Authors Note: This was written for Yana/Yaba for the Summer Secret Santa over on Jello Forever. Thought I might start to post some of the stuff I wrote for it. Spoilers for...well to be safe lets just call it most of season 2.
Prompt: "Stop lying to me okay? Just stop it! Just tell me what Sam told you before he died, I know it was about me." Lisbon finally has enough and forces Jane to tell her the truth about what Bosco told him.
Lies to Comfort; Truth to Heal
I hate to see her like this. It's been six months now since that day and she's like a shell of her former self. Oh, sure, she can hide it well; I doubt anyone on the team knows that something's going on with her.
I admit, I haven't been the best of friends. Instead of taking away from her stress I add to it. I can't help it, it's a compulsion that I am powerless against. I need to act out, I need to run my schemes, I need to make her life a living hell. Because when I do, she gets mad, she yells, she shows some emotion, and lately, that's all I can get out of her. She's stopped smiling, stopped laughing, stopped smirking.
I know that Bosco's death affected her a lot more than she let on; she was in love with him after all. Not in love with him like she wanted to have an affair with him, but something deeper. She had true feelings for him but loved and respected him enough that she wouldn't do that to him or his wife.
It's getting to be more than I can take. I can tell she struggling. I caught her staring at the bottom drawer in her desk the other night when she thought everyone had gone home. I waited until the next day when she was out and picked the lock on the drawer…I can't say I was surprised to see the large bottle of alcohol that was there, just saddened. I hated seeing such a strong and ferocious woman brought to her knees by something like the death of a loved one, especially since she'd already survived two such deaths at such a young age.
But this is the night. I'm done watching her suffer; I'm done watching her punish herself because she didn't save Bosco. She needs to talk, and she needs to do it now. I know she should probably talk to a shrink, but since Minelli left right after the shooting, and with the issues with the last department shrink…I think it fell through the cracks.
The lights are on in the lower windows of her condo when I get there, no lights upstairs and I wonder if she was planning on staying downstairs all night or if she just hasn't made it near her room yet. A silly concern I know, but she's not the type to bring a drink to bed with her, so if she goes to bed she won't be drinking. I try not to think about the fact that I'm even considering her drinking, what with her family history, she'd always been so careful not to overdo it. At least with the team around.
I knock on her door, not sure if she's going to answer, not sure what I'll do if she doesn't. I'm almost ready to knock again, or pick her lock, when the door swings open and an almost very inebriated Lisbon opens the door.
"Jane." Her voice is only slightly slurred, if I hadn't known to look for it, I wouldn't have noticed. She walks away from the door, leaving it open, an invitation to enter.
I didn't know quite how to begin the conversation that I knew I needed to happen. I'd done this sort of thing before a hundred times before, but never with someone I cared for like Lisbon.
"I know why you're here." I guess I didn't need to be the one to start it.
"Oh? Why am I here then?" I kept my tone light, as if this was just another day at the office. As if I usually came by her house unannounced late at night.
"You're worried about me. I've not been myself since Sam died, and you're here to see if there's anything you can do about it."
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't deny it; she'd gotten it spot on. "I am worried about you Lisbon."
She had walked further into the living room after I'd shut the door. I was reminded of another night, not too long ago when I'd watched her fake a nervous break down. I wondered vaguely if a real one was coming and if it would look anything like the one from all those months ago. "Yeah, I'm sure you're so worried. So worried that you manage to make my life at work a living hell."
"I don't do it on purpose Lisbon. It just happens. It's just the way I am."
I watched as she picked up the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and took a drink straight out of the bottle without a glass. "You know what Jane, I don't think you care. I know it's the way you are. And you know what? I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the lying. I'm sick of the way you think you can get away from everything. I can't believe when you lie to me. I can't believe that you would lie to me the day at the hospital."
She paused to take another drink and stumbled slightly as she stepped towards me. I was struggling trying to keep up with what she was talking about. I thought that perhaps she was talking about the day that Bosco died, but I wasn't sure.
"Stop lying to me okay?" Yelling now. Not so loud, but defiantly fiercer and more forceful than before. "Just stop it! Just tell me what Sam told you before he died, I know it was about me."
I was speechless. I had no idea what to say. I didn't know where she'd come from with that question. "What?"
"You heard me."
"I already told you that he told me to take care of you." I kept my voice calm, gentle, without the hint of confusion I was feeling.
"I know that's not what he said." She took another step towards me and I put my hands out to stop her from coming closer, grasping her upper arms gently.
"You're right, that's not what he said. But Lisbon…Teresa, I don't think that tonight, of all nights, is the time for me to get into this with you."
She broke out of my weak grasp and flung one of her fists against my chest. I knew from personal experience that on a normal occasion a blow from one of her fists could cause serious injury, but in her inebriated state it was little more than a tap on my chest. I debated only briefly about whether I should tell her before again grasping her arms and leading her to the couch. I positioned us on so that I was turned slightly facing her.
"I'm going to tell you, not because I think you need to know, but because I care about you and can see that this is clearly bothering you. Lisbon, Bosco's last words to me were 'Kill that Bastard Red John; I don't care what anyone else says.' Given your stance on revenge, I figured you wouldn't want to know." I waited for her response, not knowing how she was going to respond in the state she was in.
"Really?" I could hear the disbelief in her voice, and knew that she had been hoping for something else.
"That's what he told me Lisbon." Her silence was unexpected, and it took me a moment to realize that there were silent tears streaming down her face. "Hey, are you ok?" I pulled her to me slightly, not sure what to do with an emotional Lisbon.
"He always was the good cop, you know? Always wanted to get the bad guy." Her voice was trembling from the tears and I stroked her back slightly in what I hopped was a comforting gesture. It had been ages since I'd had to comfort a crying woman, and the last time in was in this very apartment, with this very woman, and I'd gotten out of it as quickly as I could manage.
I don't know how long we sat there like that, but eventually I noticed that her breathing had evened out and her quiet sobs had ceased completely. I leaned her back from where she had been resting in my shoulder to see that she had fallen asleep.
I gently laid her down on the couch and stood, searching quickly for a blanket to throw over her I covered her and headed to the kitchen. I got a glass of water and a few aspirin, placing them on the coffee table in front of her I went into the bathroom and grabbed the small trashcan she kept there. She would probably need it sooner rather than later.
I stood there, looking at her, sleeping. I knew it was more just passed out drunk than truly a restful sleep, but I could pretend that for the moment, that she was at peace. I didn't know how to solve her problems, that's something that she's going to have to figure out on her own. I know that guilt; real or imagined is something very powerful, I just hoped that it didn't destroy her as it did me.