Lisbon rubbed her temples as she desperately struggled to focus on the case file sitting in front or her on the desk. She'd been having trouble sleeping ever since Jane had decided to share Red John's message with her; she spent the nights tossing and turning in her bed, while all kinds of ominous thoughts swirled about her mind.
Was the seven suspect list ever to be trusted, or was their opponent just trying to pull wool over their eyes once again? And even if the list was legit, how were they going to find out which of those men was actually a serial killer in disguise?
The only answer she'd gotten so far was a splitting headache, which was threatening to turn into a full blown migraine. If there was something she hated, that was being sick and therefore unable to do her job at the very best.
It didn't help in the slightest that she felt Jane's eyes on her all the time. He was obviously worried; they both knew she was the single thing he had left to lose, and Red John would surely come after her at some point. All they could do was hope that they were going to catch him first, though such a thing didn't seem very likely at this moment in time.
If only she could stop thinking about the whole sorry mess for a little while, she thought wistfully. She was in dire need of getting some proper rest, both craved and dreaded the moment when her head would eventually hit the pillow.
In the end she gave up on her half-hearted attempt to work out a new lead on their latest case; a weary sigh escaped her mouth as she threw a quick glance at her watch, then stood to her feet. It was time to engage her now daily battle with sleep, and she found herself briefly wondering how Jane was able to cope with an entire decade of insomnia.
Speaking of Jane, he promptly walked to her side and stared her in the eyes for a silent moment; she was way too tired for his mind games, so she simply allowed him to do as he pleased.
His fingers closed gently around her wrist, and he spoke in a soft murmur.
"When you're in bed tonight, I want you to focus on the happiest memory you can recall. Let it float inside your mind, like a weightless feather in a quiet breeze. You'll feel safe, and calm, and serene; your eyes will flutter shut then, and you'll slowly drift towards dreamland."
Lisbon was vaguely aware of what he was doing, but didn't fight it for once. Peace washed over her, and she felt as safe as she'd been in his arms when he'd hypnotized her in her own living room. Even her migraine had slightly relented, and she let a small smile creep to her lips.
She closed her eyes only for a moment, and she could almost swear she felt his lips gently brushing against her temple. When she opened them again he was gone, but she was sure that for the first time in weeks sleep wasn't going to elude her tonight.