Broken wings
On the day when Red John was apprehended there was a thunderstorm over Sacramento.
Jane was soaked wet when Lisbon finally dragged him into her apartment. She forced him to take off his clothes and wrapped a warm blanket around him.
As she brought him a steaming cup of Earl Grey he raised his forlorn eyes and let out a trembling whisper.
"Please, don't leave me."
She didn't. He slept on her couch for weeks, until the serial killer was finally sentenced to death.
Then he asked her to marry him.
It's wasn't particularly romantic or anything, but she knew he needed her at his side.
So she simply said yes.
Nothing changed after their marriage. He still slept on her couch, but never went as far as kissing her.
She was something between an old friend and a sister to him. Or maybe a mother.
Sometimes he hugged her or held her hand. That was all.
She didn't know what to think of it, but she still waited patiently. Waited for him to heal and be whole again eventually.
After a couple of months it became clear that what he'd been looking for was just someone to come home to in the evening – or come home with, in their case.
He didn't consider her his wife, and he probably never would.
Lisbon blamed it entirely upon herself. After all, she should have inquired about his intentions before they got married.
She didn't stop holding him when he cried. She didn't say anything whenever he crept in her bed after a nightmare and wrapped an arm around her waist.
Maybe he was too broken to ever heal again.
What she hadn't taken into account were her own feelings. She couldn't go on repressing them for forever – even if she would never admit as much.
It was late one night when she heard him slipping inside her bedroom once again. He lay down and cuddled up to her, as silent sobs shook his chest.
This time she wrapped her arms around him and began placing soft kisses all over his face.
When her lips found his mouth she felt him stiffening all of a sudden.
"I can't… I'm sorry."
That was too much even for her. Without a word she jumped out of bed, grabbed her clothes and almost fled from her apartment.
Jane resembled a beaten dog when he joined her in the office the following morning.
She didn't dignify him with a greeting – just went on filing paperwork as if he wasn't there.
"Teresa, I…"
He broke off as she jerked away from his touch. Her hurt eyes finally met his own.
"What do you want to say, Patrick? That you can't cheat on your late wife with me? I guess you've already made that quite clear."
"It's not like that. I…"
"Yes, you're right. It's probably me – I'm not good enough for you."
She bit her lip when she saw his eyes brimming with tears. There was a quiet sadness in her voice as she went on.
"You know what? You slept with Red John's girl, but you can't let me kiss you. I'm not even worth your time."
He stumbled blindly out of her office, tears running freely down his cheeks.
In the evening she found him packing his things before leaving. He was still crying – probably hadn't stopped since the morning.
"I'm sorry for hurting you. I'll make sure to set you free as soon as possible."
All of a sudden she felt unspeakably tired. "Patrick, please."
"I've never deserved you. I was a fool to think otherwise."
He paused in the doorway, longing to touch her but not daring to do so.
"It's your eyes, Teresa. They're so clear and innocent – just like Charlotte's. That's why I can't… I'm afraid… to do you harm."
She froze as if she'd been slapped in the face. It wasn't because of Angela that he shied away from her affection.
He was scared stiff to hurt her. That was all.
Slowly she approached him and placed an hand on his cheek. Her tone was very gentle when she finally spoke.
"I'm not a china doll, Jane. I'm not going to shatter into a thousand pieces if you lay your hands on me."
His whole body was trembling now. She hugged him tightly and refused to let him go.
"It's okay if you need more time. I'll try to be patient, I promise."
He buried his head on her shoulder. "I need you to help me, Teresa. I'm sick and tired of waiting."
She rubbed her hands soothingly against his back until he calmed down and relaxed in her embrace.
Then she guided him to her bedroom and started unbuttoning his vest. She could feel panic rising inside him as her fingertips grazed the bare skin of his neck.
"You have to trust me, Patrick. Close your eyes and let yourself go."
An affectionate smirk showed on her lips when she woke up in the morning to find him sleeping like a child with his head buried against her chest.
The smirk turned into a full-blown grin as a weird thought crossed her mind.
Different kinds of trust falls suited different kinds of people. Now they both knew they were going to be there for each other, no matter what.
She kissed him on top of his head and allowed sleep to take over again.