Hi guys!
Before you ask – yes I am still working on Nursing Jane.
This idea has been floating around my brain for the last week or so. I had to get it down so I could continue with Nursing Jane with a clearer head!
Tag for 2x10 – Throwing Fire.
Hope you don't mind!
Lisbon sighed, filing away the last of her paperwork. She blinked blearily, the hours she had spent writing taking it's toll on her vision.
She sipped at her now lukewarm coffee, glancing out of the window towards the bullpen. She was hoping to find Jane asleep on his couch, and was more than a little disappointed to find he wasn't there.
She'd never tell him, but it was one of her guilty pleasures, watching him lounge on his couch. She loved how his soft blonde curls peeked above the arm rest, his chest falling peacefully with his every breath.
But that wasn't the reason she had looked tonight, and concern began to settle in her stomach when she found his favourite spot empty.
She wasn't completely convinced that Jane was actually okay. He had been a little off all day, despite his protests.
She had taken him to see a doctor on the way back to the office. Cho had informed her that he had passed out at the baseball academy, and she had seen herself that he wasn't as self-aware as he usually was.
She had let him off when he'd first been knocked unconscious by the ball, knowing how much he hated hospitals, but as the day progressed she was only convinced further that he needed to be seen.
As she expected, the doctor had told her that he had concussion, and mustn't fall asleep for more than a few hours at a time. He'd have a headache for the next couple of days, but if Lisbon felt that his condition seemed to worsen over the next 24 hours, she was to bring him back.
Jane had laughed them off and insisted that he was fine – nothing a good cup of tea couldn't solve – but Lisbon had thanked the doctor and had taken his advice seriously.
Jane had been very sleepy on the journey back, his head lolling against his seat belt. Lisbon had reached over once or twice to encourage him to lean back, but he'd simply woken and frowned at her, before mumbling and closing his eyes again.
Lisbon had happily let him lounge on his couch for the remainder of the day, hoping that he'd sleep off his wooziness and be 'right as rain' once again.
She had been meaning to check up on him frequently, wake up him every few hours should he fall asleep. She had seen Cho shake him awake every now and then, but she'd gotten so caught up in her work she had forgotten to check up on him once the team had left for the night.
Lisbon stood, switching off her lamp.
She supposed in a way it was a good sign that Jane wasn't on his couch, it meant that he wasn't sleeping. Or at least he'd woken and gone back to sleep somewhere else, which gave her some leeway on her check ups. She suspected he was in his attic, so she'd pop up and check on him before heading home. He should be okay between now and when she came back in a few hours.
Swinging her bag on her shoulder, she made her way to the elevator, stopping in her tracks when the light in the kitchen captured her attention.
The cleaner must've forgotten to switch it off.
She backed up a little, reaching for the switch when she paused.
Suddenly, she realised why the light was still on.
There, on the floor, was Patrick Jane. Surrounded by a conspicuous amount of tissue paper.
"Jane?" She frowned, approaching him as he knelt on the kitchen floor. He seemed to be unaware of her presence. "What are you doing?"
He didn't respond, but instead rose to his feet slowly. He approached the counter, pulling some tissue from the dispenser. Then, after a few steps, he fell back to his knees, placing the tissue on the floor.
"Helloooo?" She tried, chuckling slightly. He must have spilled some tea.
When he failed to answer again, she frowned.
Something wasn't right.
There was a huge pile of paper now scattered across the floor, and when Jane rose to his feet again, she approached him slowly.
He reached for more tissue paper, his movements slow and lethargic. Lisbon stood beside him and tilted her head to capture his gaze.
His eyes were hooded, his pupils hazed and unfocused. Immediately she understood what was happening.
He was sleeping walking.
She allowed him to continue his ministrations as he fell to his knees, adding the paper to his messy pile on the floor.
She wasn't sure what she was meant to do.
She had heard that it was a bad idea to wake someone who was sleep walking. It could startle them, leave them confused and potentially violent. The best course of action was to be gentle with them, and hope that they'd let you walk them back to bed.
But did that apply to someone who had cranial trauma? The doctor had warned that he shouldn't sleep too much. What if he was sleepwalking because he'd been allowed to sleep for too long?
He had never done this before, which was a little unnerving in itself, but the fact that he was still recovering from a head injury made this a little terrifying.
Clearly he wasn't okay.
Lisbon placed her bag on a nearby chair, watching as Jane got to his feet. This time he leaned back against the counter and stared at her, folding his bare arms. He sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging.
"Jane?" She approached him carefully, running a gentle hand up and down his arm. "Are you okay?"
" 'this good?" He mumbled, his bleary eyes blinking.
"What are you doing here?" She asked gently, gesturing to the pile of tissue.
She had already noticed the spilled tea on the counter surface, the half empty cup in the sink, but she wanted to get him talking. She needed to see how lucid he was. If he needed to go back to hospital.
"I's jus' makin' some tea and I realised why it was'o weird." He sighed, gripping the counter either side of him. "Ang'la was younger than me but she still danced y'know?"
She frowned, his incoherent speech only worrying her further. He held her eyes, waiting for her response. He clearly wasn't aware he was talking gibberish.
"What?" Lisbon replied sweetly, "Why is there tissue on the floor?"
She tried her best to speak as clearly and as softly as possible. She didn't want to wake him, but it was obviously important to keep him busy. She couldn't let him go back to sleep just yet. She wasn't entirely sure it was safe.
His eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, flickering left to right as he processed her words. "I dunno... I jus' feel like...I jus' feel Lisbon knows what's un'er it but rains a lot right?"
She paused for a second, trying to interpret his meaning. "Is that why you put tissue on the floor?"
"No." He told her firmly, as though her question was ridiculous. "Because I made tea in my sleep."
Wait. So he knew he was sleepwalking?
"I din't know I had to consul' you 'fore makin' tea." He puffed, shaking his head. "Sorry Miss Perfect."
Lisbon almost laughed. This would be hilarious under different circumstances. She was hearing a new side to him, one she imagined was very similar to his drunken state.
She knelt to clear the mess off the floor, hearing Jane sigh dramatically.
"I jus wanna sleep. I'm so tired."
"I know Jane," She stood, dropping the tissues in the trash. "but I'm not sure that's a good idea yet, okay?"
He was silent for a moment, and Lisbon reached out once again to place her hand on his shoulder. He eyed her, his face solemn.
"I jus wish you'd love me." He said quietly, bowing his head.
Her breath caught in her throat. "What?"
"I jus' really wish you'd love me."
She knew he didn't have any idea what he was saying, but her heart broke a little for him. He was very confused.
"Jane." She spoke softly. "It's okay. I just need to know you're all right."
He rubbed his neck, closing his eyes. He swayed slightly, and Lisbon used both her hands to steady him.
"Please jus' let me sleep." He begged, his face close to hers. His eyes were barely open, his gaze passing straight through her. "I won' change the spiders for you I promise."
She smiled slightly. He may not be making sense, but he was sweet while doing it.
"Jane, you're talking gibberish."
"I'm jus' so tired." He repeated.
"Is it because you hurt your head?" She asked, "Do you remember that?"
"Yeah that hurt." He rubbed his head, wincing when his fingers grazed a sore spot.
She pulled his hand away from his hair, standing on her tip toes to take a look. The area was aggressively red and she carefully pushed his hair back, caressing his curls soothingly.
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
She knew he wouldn't usually act this way. He didn't like to be touched unless he initiated it. The fact that he was allowing himself to be cared for was a testimony to how out of sorts he was.
She made a decision. "I think we need to take you to the hospital."
"No." He shook his head, pulling away from her. "It doesn' matter any more. The plate's pretty much gone anyway."
"Jane, you've hurt your head." She levelled her eyes with his, desperate to get through to him. "You need to see a doctor. Then you can sleep okay?"
"Okay but they're not gonn' steal me." He said seriously.
"No they're not gonna steal you, Jane." This time she did giggle. Even confused he hated the thought of hospitals. "I'll stay with you, don't worry."
With sudden clarity, she was immensely relieved that she had stayed so late. Who knows what Jane could've done had no one found him.
She grabbed her bag, then slung Jane's arm over her shoulder, guiding him out of the kitchen. She was careful to slow her pace, mindful that Jane was in fact asleep.
As they passed the bullpen, Lisbon debated whether she should grab Jane's jacket from his couch, but decided that it was far more trouble than it was worth. It wasn't too cold out anyway.
She stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button.
"Where're we goin'?" Jane mumbled.
"Hospital." Lisbon whispered in his ear. "You have a poorly head, remember?"
"Oooh."
The elevator pinged, and Lisbon helped him in.
"I've never used paint before." Jane suddenly declared.
Well she had no idea where that had come from. "What do you mean?"
"Summin' like... 1.6 billion gallons sold in the US each year."
Of course he knew a useless fact like that. "What's that have to do with your head, Jane?"
"I'm jus' talkin' about features." He mumbled, clearly becoming a little frustrated.
Lisbon opted to stay quiet.
She thought that talking to him would make him a little more lucid, and that once she knew he was all right, she could leave him to sleep until the morning. But this little talk had only proven that he needed immediate medical attention.
He definitely wasn't okay, and he wouldn't be until he was in hospital.
She helped him out of the elevator and slowly walked him to her car. Once she had him seated, she buckled him in, reaching for a bottle of water from the back seat.
"Drink this, Jane." She told him gently, twisting the lid off for him.
He stared at the bottle for a moment, his bleary eyes unable to focus. She covered his hand with her own and lifted the water to his lips, waiting patently as he drank. He pulled away, dribbling slightly, and Lisbon wiped his chin with the back of her hand.
She screwed the lid back into place, handing him the bottle to hold. He took it easily, the object capturing his full attention.
Lisbon made her way over to the drivers side, throwing her bag onto the back seat as she climbed in. She jammed her keys into the ignition, eager to get to the hospital quickly.
"I'm sorry." Jane whispered as she started the engine.
She glanced at him, finding his guilty expression staring back at her.
"Hey, it's okay." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault."
"I'm jus' really sorry." He muttered sadly, and Lisbon was sure he was going to cry. "For everything."
She reached a hand to his hair, pushing the unruly curls away from his forehead. "Jane. Everything is fine. Just relax."
The poor man really wasn't well.
As she pulled out of the parking space, Jane reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly.
He knew, on some level, that something wasn't right. She could sense it. He was an intelligent man, after all.
She was just glad she had been there for him.
"Bosco was right," He suddenly whispered. "You're one in a million."
Lisbon squeezed his hand, refusing to acknowledge her eyes were a little misty.
Jane was a pain in the ass at times, constantly testing her patience. He could create havoc no matter what the situation, using his words to manipulate and deceive.
But when he was being sincere, when he truly meant what he was saying, it came from deep within.
She parked the car and quickly rounded to the passenger side, helping Jane out of his seat.
He wrapped his arm around her, allowing her to guide him to the entrance.
She held him tightly, taking as much time as he needed. He leaned heavily against her, struggling through his fatigue.
As they crossed the parking lot, Jane turned to her, giving her a loopy smile. She grinned, shaking her head.
"So are you, Jane." She whispered to him as they entered the hospital. "You're one in a million too."
Well there you are. I know this was a little random, but I hope you liked it. Any mistakes are my own.
