Author's Note:: this fic is a dark one. It is intended to be a oneshot, however, since it ends on a downer, if I get some reviews I will possibly write another chapter. I've written this oneshot as part of a Sexual Assault Awareness month series of things, which I am hoping get up soon. Thank you for reading and please review.


"No, I won't kill you…rape you! Maybe. But kill you? No."

"You're clearly trying to frighten me."

He sneered down as he looked to her bloodied face, as she lay there after he'd had his sadistic way with her, against her will. He had promised himself that this would come to her, part of him wanting it because she spent a lot of time around his Jane, he wanted this woman to suffer because he couldn't have the Italian Detective, and he wanted nobody other than himself to get the attention from Detective Rizzoli. He did not intend for the Doctor to lose her life by his hands, but for her to live with the scars; emotionally and physically. For her to carry them around with her, to remind her of the things he could have done to her best friend, and what he wanted to carry on afterwards, to finish off he best friend.

Hoyt looked over the Doctor's limp body, her designer dress was torn and ruined, from the force he'd used when he'd been fierce with the attack that had been forced upon her. It had been fairly brutal upon the Doctor, but this was something he'd been waiting for, for a while. And to have this moment with the good Doctor Isles was something Charles Hoyt had been picturing, planning and enjoying this moment for months after he'd spoken with Maura when she'd brought him in for interrogation.

Hoyt zipped up his jeans zipper as he focused upon Maura's face; lacerations across her left eyelid and brow, cut lip and bloodied nose, and bruises were already forming across her left cheek and jaw line. As Charles Hoyt popped the button back through its hole, he let his eyes wander down past the poppy bruises on Maura's jaw, to the elegant, swanlike neck she possessed and he lifted his hand to stroke his finger along the delicate skin there, watching as Doctor Isles' pulse weakened, evening out slowly. Maura's hands were either side of her head, from when she'd given up struggling against Hoyt as he'd been too forceful and covered her mouth while he'd done the dirty deed, inflicting that shameful pain upon her like he'd said he would do. And as he continued to look down on her, sneering still, he was reminded of a scene he was adding climactic suspense to finishing; Jane, on the basement floor with the scalpels jammed through her palms as he held a third to her throat and taunted her.

His mind flashed between the two scenes, Jane's cries out when he pierced through skin and tissue of each palm, trapping her, like a butterfly in a display case for the world to see. He didn't want the world to see 'his Jane' though, he wanted her all to himself, and that time would come. Hoyt had been so close the last time, Korsak had ruined that for him though, and he'd gotten at least some revenge on the older Detective when he'd knifed him in the park the night the team and Agent Dean had been there surveilling the area, waiting for him to return.

The man who called himself a doctor looked back at Maura's almost lifeless body laying out before him, in the same position he'd fought her to the floor, legs fell open and alien from one another where his body had been between them. Hoyt lifted his finger from Maura's delicate, refined neck and he reacquainted it with the rest of its phalange family members of the same hand, even if he couldn't move them as well and meticulously as he was once able to due to the round that Jane had punched through both hands the night he and John Stark had kidnapped her to perhaps finally end his quest with her. He moved his hand towards Maura's neck, as he pictured her with Jane, enjoying coffee, a bottle of wine, a movie with his Jane. He couldn't bare anybody that wasn't him being with her.

He saw Maura's eyes seemingly moving under her lids, her eyelashes were fluttering as if telling her lids to wake up and move so she could see. She was coming round to consciousness, and he was still there. He could hear her cell ringing in her Birkin he'd flung off to the side when he'd grabbed her from behind and bashed her into the wall of the Police Department parking lot. Hoyt panicked, knowing he shouldn't be there when and if she woke up, so he decided to relent on his promise and finish Maura off, she couldn't have much strength left in her body from the force he'd used to drain her.

Charles Hoyt heard noise above the level of the parking lot he was on, and he could see Maura was coming round faster than he thought, he was panicking even though externally he probably looked as cool and collected as he usually acted. But no, Hoyt wrapped his hand around Maura's delicate neck, seeing her eyes snap open in terror as she looked almost blindly through him, feeling the pain surge through her body in a white hot sear. Hoyt moved his other hand to join the first and he closed his fingers tightly around the Doctor's neck, almost wringing her, willing the life to leave her body. She let out a few strangled chokes as the movement above seemed to grow gradually nearer to their position.

"Maura? Maura, you down here?" came her voice. His Jane's voice. She was there. He couldn't be seen here though, not with Maura laying there, dead.

Again, Maura's cell began to ring out, and he decided to flee, ducking between cars and staying in the shadows as he heard three sets of footsteps and finally a fourth as they neared the spot where he'd just been.

"Maura? Where are you? Your pur- Oh my GOD!" Jane was panicked as she rushed to the Doctor's side, "MAURA? Maura!" she looked down to her friend, seeing clearly that this was something she feared happening to anybody she knew. Jane had saw the tape of Maura interrogating Hoyt, of what he'd said to her and now she couldn't do anything, this was a crime scene, and Maura was a victim now. Jane couldn't cover her up and give the Doctor some privacy from showing her upper thighs and bloodied genitals, it all had to be photographed and recorded first, "Why are you just standing there, Frankie? Call an ambulance! DO SOMETHING!" she bellowed at her younger brother, feeling her throat tighten as she looked over Maura.

Hoyt hung back just a few seconds as he saw Jane standing by Maura's limp form, processing the scene in her mind. Her hand moving from hip, to mouth, to brow and finally she did it. She rubbed over her scars. The scars that he had caused her two years earlier.