Maybe he wanted too much.

More than just finding and subsequently killing Red John. Maybe it was Lisbon. Well, his feelings for her at the very least. Maybe it was his need for her to be in his life for as long as she would stay. Maybe it was the dreams that he had, had of their life together after Red John. Maybe it was wanting to leave the past in the past. He wanted to live again. He wanted to be free for the first time in a long time and he wanted to be free with her.

No more exploiting people for money. No more hunting down the sadist who killed his wife and child. He didn't want that. He wanted to forget. Just forget and be free again. But he should have known that, after years of dealing with the serial killer, he should never covet. It would always come with a price. People would go missing and/or end up dead. Memories were forever tainted by the bloody smiley face that seemed to be the focal point of every crime scene that traced back to Red John. Yet, when he looked at Theresa Lisbon, he couldn't help but covet. He wanted to make his dreams, reality. He wanted to make her his wife. He wanted a future with her. He wanted her. She was his best friend; he needed her.

Unfortunately for both of them, Red John knew.

In hindsight, he should have known that the bright and happy future he had planned for himself and Lisbon was never meant to be. All of those dreams of what could be, all those hopes of a bright future were always going to be just out of reach. He had been chasing after a future that he was never meant to have. A relationship with her, even a professional partnership, was risky. He had been playing with fire and they both knew it. Although he was a master at doing things he wasn't supposed to, this felt a bit more like Russian Roulette. Lives were at stake. Her life was at stake.

Or, had been.

She looks peaceful now, nestled in the crisp fabric of generic hospital bed-sheets that reeked of disinfectant and sweat. Her face harbors an expression that seems to be torn between pure serenity and gripping terror. Nothing, not even a coma, will be able to erase the memories she'll carry with her the rest of her life. He knows in the back of his mind that she'll never be quite the same, when she wakes up. She'll be haunted my memories of the torture, both physical and psychological, that she was forced to endure.

If she wakes up, that is.

Patrick Jane has never been much of a spiritual person, for the most part choosing not to believe in a higher power but he can honestly say that he's prayed more in the past week than he ever has. He had begged, pleading with her to just open her eyes. Just let him see those beautiful green eyes again. He needed to see them. For his sanity, or at least, that last little bit that was still holding on by the thread of hope that she'll wake up. Hope is all he has at this point and he clings to it like a child clings to a teddy bear after a night mare. This was his version of a nightmare. Seeing his best friend laying in a hospital bed, in a coma was his own personal nightmare.

It's been two, maybe three days since he had been home. The last time he had gone home, thoughts of Lisbon and of everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks had consumed him. He had, had a break down in the shower, tears mixing with the water and his fist slamming into the wall in a rare display of violence. He hadn't wanted to go home anyway but Cho and Rigsby had physically removed him from the hospital and forced him to go home, take a shower and find some food before his body started breaking down. He hadn't left easy but the promise that Grace would take his place by her bed and call him if anything changed, seemed to pacify him enough to at least get him to go long enough to shower and change clothes. That had been five days ago, at least.

He can't bear to leave her, not when he knew she wouldn't be in a coma if it wasn't for him.

He felt guilty.

So he sits. The hospital chair is hard and uncomfortable but if she'll just wake up, the strain on his back will be worth it. Sometimes he talks to her. He tells her of the future he had planned for himself and how he had hoped that she would be a part of it. He tells her that it wasn't just his future he wants, it's their future. Sometimes when he talks, it's just mindless prattle, more for himself than for her. He just needs to empty his mind and she's the only one that he could ever really do that with. She's the only one who understood his need to talk like that. He jokes, rather half-heartedly, that maybe if he talks enough, she'll wake up and tell him shut up. At least she'd be awake, then.

Her brothers think he's crazy, he's pretty sure. Tommy is probably the only one with a remote understanding of why he holds a constant vigil over their big sister's bed. The other two probably want to kill him for dragging her into his mess. That's okay. He'd want to do the same thing if he was in their position. James Lisbon, the next to the youngest, comes in once in a while and talks to her, tells her that she has a brand new niece. He tells her that she needs to wake up so she can meet the little girl. The youngest Lisbon, David, can't seem to work up the courage to come in the room so he holds vigil in the chair just outside her hospital room. Tommy is the oldest and the only brother that is with Theresa as much as Jane. For all of his faults, Tommy is loyal to his 'Reese', having been the first of the three Lisbon brothers at her bedside with Jane. He tells her stories of their childhood, growing up in Chicago, hoping that the few happy memories they have will bring her back and part of him hopes that it'll take Jane's mind off of things, if only for a little while.

It's only at night, when everyone's gone home. When her younger brothers are back in their hotel rooms, resting up for another day at the hospital. When the CBI team is home resting up, preparing to split their time working on a new case and visiting Lisbon. It's only then that Jane shows any emotion. It's then that the tears fill his eyes, the sting finally receding, and his voice cracks. It's when he whispers his pleas and breaks down when she doesn't seem to hear him. It's when the only sound that breaks the silence is the heart monitor and his soft cries.

Tonight will be no different. He'll find the most comfortable position he can in the plastic chair and before he goes to sleep, he'll bring her hand up to his mouth. He'll press dozens of tender kisses into the skin of her palm, relishing in the feel of her skin against his lips, and he'll whisper his mantra; "Wake up soon, Theresa. I need you."

But tonight, he'll fall into that place somewhere between the dark abyss of sleep and the bright light of consciousness, never seeing the beacon of hope that he's been waiting for. He won't notice it until the next morning when his bleary eyes find her face and he forces them into focus so that he can see her better. He won't believe it but he'll know it's real because he's never seen anything more real or more genuine. He'll feel comforted and hopeful that maybe Red John hadn't completely destroyed his future with her. All because of one little thing.

Lisbon's smile.

I've been watching this show for over a year now and I just worked up the courage to write about it. I had a hard time capturing Jane's character when it came to dialogue but he's pretty much an open book of emotions so that was easier to tap into and yeah, I think he's just attached enough to hold a week long vigil at Lisbon's bedside. So I know that there is one major hole in this story but having Lisbon in a coma was enough angst, I figured you wouldn't need the gory details of what happened. Red John should be explanation enough. If you really want to know, well let your imagination fill in the blanks because I couldn't do it. Also, I don't know if Lisbon's third brother is actually David but I needed him for this story so that's his name for fiction's sake. Anyway, leave me some love, Dolls.

Love ya,

RobertDowneyJrLove

P.S. I loved the darker side of Jane that was shone in season five. The insomniatic, slightly manic part of Jane that wants something that always slips through his fingers. That side of Jane kind of helped me figure out how Jane should be as I wrote this story.