Mother Love
He laid his forehead against the cold surface of the door, as he waited for her to answer the phone.
He felt guilty about waking her up at such an unearthly hour, especially after the exhausting day she had had. He just couldn't help it. Not this time.
...
She picked up her cellphone more on an automatic response, mumbling something close enough to her own name.
"Lisbon, I'm truly sorry for this. It's just… I can't stay at the CBI, and I can't go home. May I sleep on your couch? I won't bother you any further, I promise".
She was fully awake now. She knew that their latest case had been taking his toll on Jane, even if he desperately struggled to hide the fact.
Her voice became softer. "Come here straight away, Jane. I'll wait for you".
There was a pause. "I'm outside your front door, actually".
"Good. Give me a second and I'll let you in".
...
As he sipped the cup of tea she had just made for him, he felt he owed her an apology.
"I'm a terrible nuisance. It's half past one in the morning, and you had a tiresome week. I should have let you sleep".
"Hush, Patrick. You know I hate to leave you brooding alone in the attic, or in that horrible motel of yours. I'm perfectly fine with staying up all night if I can help you feel better".
"Thank you", he whispered warmly – her familiar presence already calming his shattered nerves.
They were silent for a while. At length Lisbon spoke, her hand resting gently on his knee.
"It's not your fault, Jane".
She could see pain and guilt in his eyes – he was too weak just now to be able to mask them behind his usual smile.
"He did it because of me. I am the reason for that child being killed".
There was a sudden firmness in her tone. "He did it, Jane. Not you".
"He wanted to hurt me. That's why he chose a little girl who resembled Charlotte so much. Another innocent kid has paid for my sins".
"Patrick, look at me".
He hesitated a moment, then complied.
"Red John is trying to break you. Don't let him win. Please".
She had never allowed herself to show her affection for him so openly. Jane felt deeply touched.
"You're right, Teresa", he finally admitted.
Lisbon knew he wouldn't stop blaming himself so easily. She'd be there for him, anyway.
"Time to sleep now".
She took the empty cup from his hands, then came back with a spare blanket. Jane had taken off his shoes and jacket, and was snuggling into a more comfortable position on her couch.
"Goodnight, Jane".
His eyes met hers, and she could clearly see the silent pleading behind them. Like a child who wishes for his mother to stay next to him – so that his nightmares won't come back to haunt him.
"Make room for me", she said softly, as she curled on the couch and wrapped her arms around him.
He buried his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes – too tired even to wonder at her sudden disregard for her own strict views about personal space.
"Please, don't tell the others", he begged quietly, ashamed of his own weakness.
She placed a small, motherly kiss on his hair.
"I'm not going to tell anyone".