Stronger

I got the idea for this fic while reading another fic. For my life I can't remember which one, but the idea was implied. So thank you, mystery writer, for inspiring me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

She's stronger than him.

This he knows too well.

And he doesn't mean physically (which she is, defying all known laws of physics by having such strength in her tin body), but morally, emotionally. Her soul is stronger.

He lies on his couch and thinks about her.

Thinks about what she's thinking, feeling, sitting at her desk. She's lived through so much in her life, so much dread and destruction, and yet she still comes through it with her soul white and pure.

He thinks about her history.

Reading through her files (which he sniped from Minnelli's file cabinet way back when) told him about her horrid childhood.

Her mother, killed by a drunk driver. (How doesn't she wish vengeance on the killer? He survived the crash, after all? How doesn't she track him down and kill him for, essentially, ruining her life?)

Her father, broken-hearted, turns to alcohol to numb his pain. Hitting her. (How doesn't she hate him? After years of having to act mother while her piers were still being kids, doesn't she hate him?)

Her brothers, Tommy, Brian and Peter, who are fighting after all these years. Probably over something remedial and silly, but pulls her into the middle. Her, who looked after them when they were young and vulnerable, protected them against their father's violent outbursts. (How does she forgive them? How does she still love them unconditionally and forgive their ungratefulness for her sacrifice?)

She's stronger than he is. It's plain as day.

As he lies there, he starts thinking of himself.

His own broken childhood.

His father, a gutless conman. (Why couldn't I forgive him for his faults? Why did I run away and leave him? Why couldn't I make peace?)

His young years, deceiving the world as a fake-psychic. Meeting Rebecca. (Why do I still hate myself? Why can't I get past the past?)

That night… walking to the room. Finding them, bloody and broken, violated by a psychopath serial killer. (Why can't I move on? Why must I be forever engulfed in this dark world of vengeance and hurt? Why can't I be stronger?)

He becomes overwhelmed with these faults and get up, making way to the kitchenette to make himself some tea.

He meets her on the way.

"Jane, we have a new case…. Are you okay? You look… sad?"

"I'm fine, Teresa. Don't worry about it. Just making myself some tea!" He flashes her his charming smile, his camoflauge against the world. It falters when he sees her face. Since when is she the psychic one?

He looks down. He knows she sees the vulnerability in his eyes. He hates these rare moments where his past overwhelms him.

He needs her now, he needs her strength to help him through it.

She takes him in a comforting embrace, rubbing circles at his back while he breaks down in her arms.

When his breathing becomes regular again and his shoulders stop shaking uncontrollably, he stays in her arms.

Softly, she whispers, "You're stronger than you think, Patrick Jane…"

So a little angsty, a bit of hurt/comfort going on there… What do you think? Please review!