Alone
Songfic, post Season 3 finale. Song is Alone, originally by HEART, but it was redone by Celine Dion.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine
"And in an incredible turn of events, Patrick Jane, the CBI consultant who killed the notorious serial killer Red John almost a year ago, was acquitted of all charges in his final court hearing earlier today. This is, of course, the same serial killer who murdered his wife and child years ago. After many long months in trial, he was found innocent of murder charges and was released a free man. A happy ending, to a very tragic story."
The lady on the news smiled her bright, happy-go-lucky smile at the camera.
What the hell do you know? I think to myself. You don't know anything...
I bitterly take another forkful of take out. This night is dragging on forever. I just want to fall into exhaustion and have the Earth swallow me whole.
I hear the tickin' of the clock
I'm lying here the room's pitch dark
I wonder where you are tonight
No answer on the telephone
And the night goes by so very slow
Oh I hope that it won't end though
Alone
Somewhere in the apartment a clock is ticking; tick-tock, so very loudly that I can hear the distinctive, taunting, rhythmic ticking over the low volume of the TV.
I stare at the phone that's lying beside me on the couch; I contemplate calling. Should I? Shouldn't I?
I take a deep breath and dial his number, but my finger hovers over the "call"-button.
Finally, I make myself take the plunge and press the button, listening to that horribly loud ringing, and I wait.
Ring, ring, the phone goes.
I want to see him. I haven't seen him for nearly a year. Right after that day, in fact. I went to see him when I was released from the hospital, with my arm still in a sling. I saw him through the soundproof glass, saw him smile that tragic smile of his and shrug.
Ring, ring, it rings on.
"I'm sorry, Lisbon." He said. "But I told you this was going to happen. It had to happen." The sigh, deep and honestly regretting. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Teresa." His eyes were on my shoulder. "I never meant for you to get hurt..."
Ring, ring... No sign of stopping.
I wonder where he is now. He's been released – surely he'd want to get out of Sacramento as soon as possible. I know I would, if I was in the situation he was in.
Still, I wish he'd show up at my doorstep. I wish I could have him come to me, for once, and turn this night – this year – around. Because I know, despite the fact that I'm so incredibly mad at him for everything he did, if he showed up at my door and smiled that tragic smile of his at me again, I'd take him into my arms and hold him until everything was alright.
I press the button and hang up. No answer.
Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone?
How do I get you alone?
I've always been extremely independent. I guess it was my childhood, or my job. Or just my shitty personality.
Whatever.
All I know is that when the other young ladies were swooning and drooling over prospective Prince Charming's, searching for the illusive "One" who would sweep them off their feet and love and protect them forever after, I was perfectly content with looking after myself. I only let myself fall for the unavailable ones – married or taken, too committed to their jobs, like me, or simply just uninterested. I didn't need anyone else.
But then something happened that I never planned, and it scared the hell out of me.
I fell in love with Patrick Jane.
Which wasn't part of the plan.
But I hid it. I buried the shocking, unplanned feelings right down, promising myself they'd fizzle away with time.
Of course, it doesn't work that way. If your heart decides it wants to be in love with your infuriating, trouble-making, absolutely and completely broken consultant, then love him it shall.
And if he shoots a serial killer and gets put away in prison (possibly for life), apparently the heart doesn't stop loving him.
Instead it hurts.
A lot.
You don't know how long I have wanted
To touch your lips and hold you tight, oh
You don't know how long I have waited
And I was going to tell you tonight
But the secret is still my own
And my love for you is still unknown
Alone
And now?
Now he's released from prison, acquitted of all charges.
And I'm sitting here, alone in my cold and dark apartment, watching late night television and eating greasy take out, completely stumped on what to do now.
If I still believed in love and happy endings – like the lady on the news might – I'd run into the night and go look for him. Confess my love. Beg for him to return the love, and to love me and me alone.
But I'm not doing that.
Because I'm terrified. I, Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, the woman with the stellar reputation that any man would dream of, am shaking in my boots.
How do I get you alone?
How do I get you alone?
Alone, alone
He's all that I want, but he's also the one thing I will probably never have.
I'll never own his heart; he'll never know that he owns mine.
And since my heart will never get what it wants – since I'll never get him alone, to be mine and no one else's – I guess that means that this'll be my life then.
Just me. Alone.
Without him.
So this was a bit of a stretch I think, but I heard someone sing the song and it reminded me of Jisbon, so...
I'd love some reviews? They're pixelated sunshine.
Much love, Zanny
