Hi guys, I'm back :D I don't normally write for Jane & Lisbon as a couple but this idea just wouldn't get out of my head. Hope you enjoy.
She curls up on the bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around herself. Her eyes are vacant and the haunted look on her face is heart-breaking. Her hair, for once, is a mess. The remnants of the day's make up is there but it's smudged and faded. Her usually soft lips are dry, cracked and starting to bleed. Her clothes are caked in dirt and her body is covered in cuts and scratches. She has 9 stitches near her left temple.
But to you, she's never looked more beautiful.
You watch as she lies there, silent and hardly moving. You're not even if she's still breathing. You want to go and check, but you're afraid that if you get too close to her, you'll never be able to leave. Not that you want to leave, but you know that you don't have a choice. You know that in the long run, it's best for both of you to leave it this way. Maybe you should have let it be a long time ago, but it wasn't really an option then. You loved her. You still do.
As you take a step towards her, you notice that her delicate hands are stained with blood. Your blood, to be precise. She shudders suddenly and her hand flies to her hip, her natural cop instinct kicking in. It comforts you to see her do that in a way, but it frightens you at the same time. Can she feel your presence? Can she see you? Can she smell you the way you can smell her? Blood, sweat and cinnamon. If anything, you wish she could hear you, just so she could hear you tell her that you love her one last time. Would that comfort her? You hope so, but maybe it wouldn't.
Maybe it would make it worse for her.
She's staring in your direction now. Not looking at you, but looking through you. It's kind of creepy. It's like she knows. She knows that you're there.
You notice tears forming in her sparkling emerald eyes. Slowly, one by one, they begin to roll down her cheeks, leaving tear tracks on her porcelain skin. Before you know it, she's sobbing. Agonising, heart-wrenching sobs that rippled through her body, her eyes completely giving way to the onslaught of tears. You want to wipe them away, but if this is how she responds to your presence, how will she respond to your touch? Maybe just once. You could brush your fingers against her smooth cheek or run your fingers through her hair or plant one last tender kiss on her lips. What you wouldn't give for that chance… But you can't. You shouldn't.
Her eyes, still glistening with tears, travel up to the window beside her bed and your eyes follow hers. It must be late, it's dark outside. You don't know what the actual time is, of course. It's hard to know when you're dead. The sky is cloudy but the few stars that you can see are twinkling against the velvet black of the night sky. A light rain drizzles against her window. You watch the raindrops sliding down the glass, chasing each other, eating each other up, racing to the bottom of the window. You smile. Simple things. She smiles too, only a faint smile but still a smile. Maybe she's remembering all the rainy mornings that you spent together, snuggled up in bed or on the sofa watching the cheesy romantic films that she secretly loved.
They're waiting for you, you know that. Your girls. They've been waiting for nearly ten years now and they're getting a little impatient. Late at night, you used to hear them calling for you, screaming, begging for you to join them. You want to let go of this, to go and spend the rest of forever with them, but you can't go yet. There was a time when you would have gladly followed them into the light but it's different now. You're with her now.
She always had your back, no matter what. Whether you'd been arrested and taken to prison or you'd been kidnapped by a deranged psychopath, she was there to get you out of any scrape you'd managed to land yourself in. You were there for her too, every moment of every day. She knew that. She could always rely on you to cheer her up or save her life.
It wasn't until you finally killed Red John that she realised why you did all that.
She even helped you to kill him. Her and the team, you probably couldn't have done it without them. Not that you would have ever admitted that. But between you, you did it. You found him; you held the gun and you shot him point blank in the chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.
They didn't even charge you because she had your back.
Less than two hours after that, you told her that you loved her. She was surprised, shocked even, but she finally confessed that she felt the same.
A year later, you were engaged.
And now you're dead and she's all alone.
You can hear the hum of traffic outside her window, the sound of children laughing and chatting, the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the window. Strange, how one person's life can be crumbling around them but the rest of the world is carrying on as if nothing happened.
You were working a case when it happened. It was just supposed to be a normal bust, straightforward as ever, but it wasn't. Shooter came out of nowhere. Even you, with your superpowers and amazing reactions had no idea he was behind you.
She knelt beside you, dumbstruck, holding your hand and praying silently. You watched her mouth the Hail Mary over and over again. All she ever wanted was to save people and there she was, on her knees, trying desperately to save you. You remember someone shouting for an ambulance. It was too late though, you were dead within the minute.
Not, of course, before you gave her trembling hand a gentle squeeze and forced your last three words out into the cold night air.
Now you look back at her, huddled in the blankets, just in time to see her kiss the white gold ring on her finger. A final tear slips down her cheek as she whispers.
Goodbye, Jane. I love you.
Thanks for reading, hope you liked it.