Jane was starting to panic. He tried to deny it to every person who asked, including that little voice inside him that whispered at the edge of his mind. He had told Grace that she was probably just late after spilling coffee on her shirt. He had tried to listen to Kimball when he had said it was the first time she had ever been late, and she deserved some leeway. He had tried hard and almost failed and restraining himself from hitting Rigsby when he had suggested that maybe she was out the night before and was recuperating after it, after someone.

Jane knew this wasn't true. Sure she had been angry, but she wouldn't have done something stupid. She was smart, responsible and reliable.

But there was the heart of the problem.

Teresa Lisbon was so damn reliable. Everything she did had a lot of thought behind it. She never made a decision without thinking it through, the polar opposite to him. He liked to leap and rush into everything, while she liked to hang back and gather her thoughts. So she wouldn't just not turn up to work unless there was a reason behind it.

Then he let the first tendrils of worry take their grip working their way into his stomach, his throat, his finger making each strained and cold. He abruptly stood up from his spot on the couch to seek out the team which he soon found in the break room.

"Rigsby, Grace, Cho, have any if you seen Lisbon yet, it's getting late and I'm bored". He tried, but he couldn't keep the tightness out of his voice and groaned inwardly when he saw the team had heard it.

"Not since Friday night when she said goodnight and said she was going to say goodbye to you in the attic for the weekend" said Grace a little more cheerfully than the situation called for thought Jane.

"The boss left before you?" asked Rigsby sounding thoroughly perplexed. "She didn't finish her paper work, I saw it on her desk, thats a good thing, right?".

Cho was the one to answer this, his immovable face trained on Jane's. "No. No it's not. She Works way to hard, but she would have finished her paperwork after talking to Jane instead of going home straight away. Remember the last time she didn't show up for work?"

All eyes trained on Jane and he read their faces, seeing the anger, the blame and the hurt that was there for all of them. He didn't need to be a mentalist to tell that they were all thinking about the one time no one would discuss with him. The time while he was in Vegas. He asked them what she had done, desperation seeping into his voice. He needed to know she was okay, needed to know she had been okay when he hadn't been there. Instead of the reply he was looking for he saw Cho shift and ask him what he had said to her on Friday to make her react like this.

He quickly put his tea down onto the bench and walked out of the room. When he turned his key in the ignition, he realised he hadn't even known he was holding the mug until he put it down.

He let his head rest gently on the steering wheel before pulling out of the CBI parking lot and driving to Lisbon's apartment.

In the silence of his car he finally let his mind drift to Friday and he let guilt flood his system, for once happy it was there, if only to drown out the nagging voice of fear.

...

Teresa stood next to him trying to convince him it wasn't his fault.

"Jane, you couldn't have known. There was no way you could've seen it coming". She looked at him like he was a lost puppy that she had taken in. It angered him, he knew it shouldn't but it did.

"Of course it was my fault!" He practically yelled. "I gave him the information thinking he would try to get to her in the safe house, not thinking the killer would torture him for an address. He wouldn't have died if I wasn't here". Lisbon visibly flinched when she looked in his eyes, seeing only cold and despair in their depths.

"Jane, how can I help you if you don't listen to me?" She was hurting. He had been this way for weeks and it was clearly taking its toll on her. She had stopped eating again, apart from light meals and what the team had been offering her. She had also started falling asleep in her office during the week, that is when she slept at all. He knew she had barely survived his trip to Vegas; the team still couldn't look him in the eye. He had asked what she had done but no one would talk about it.

Now he was pulling away from her again and she had panicked, going into caretaker mode. She had been checking up on him and forgetting about himself. As Jane studied her further he could see what he had done to his closest friend. He hated himself for it. Why couldn't he stop hurting her? Why couldn't she just take care of herself and leave him to mope? Why couldn't he stop observing her when she thought he wasn't looking? Why couldn't he distance her from his mind when she so clearly needed to be anywhere but next to his side?

And those questions churning in his mind he made a decision. He needed her to get to a safe distance from him. So he looked her straight in the eyes and conjured up the most painful lie he ever told.

"I don't need you Lisbon"

Five words. As soon as he said them he regretted it. The silence after was painful, cutting into him. He had those words loaded with spite and cruelty. She had felt it more than anything else he had ever said. When he had managed to look at her again, he saw her face slowly lose all expression.

She didn't become angry or yell and no tears escaped. She just stood and turned in smooth mechanical movements. Gone was the usual lightness in her steps, the relaxed way she occasionally let her hips swing when she walked. As she reached the attic doorway she looked over her shoulder and with a voice that Jane didn't recognise she told him she was going home and she would see him on Monday.

It almost killed him. Seeing her put her mask back on knowing she wouldn't let it down for anyone again. It had taken Jane a long time to break down her walls and see her the way she was, not just the way she displayed herself. Five stupid, insignificant words had taken it all away. He just meant to create some distance, not to lose her so completely.

He slammed his hand against his dash board and swore. He couldn't lose Teresa. He faced long ago that he couldn't survive in a world that she wasn't in. He now knew surviving a world where she was still near him every day, but alienated towards him may be an even deeper level of hell. He wouldn't disappear or die for fear of what it might do to her, but he would never see her warmth, her lingering green eyes or her small secret smiles that he needed more than oxygen ever again.

A shrill ring interrupted his thoughts and without stopping or even slowing to the legal limit he pulled out his phone.

"Jane? I just got a call from Lisbon" said a sharpened version of Van Pelt's voice.

"What is it?" Jane needed to know. Panic overtook him once more and he pulled over, if Grace was calling him after the looks he has received in the break room, something must be wrong.

After a long shuddering few breaths Van Pelt responded "Jane she said she was fine, said she was just sick and saw her doctor and may not be back for a few weeks, but Jane, she sounded like she did while you were gone. I think she was crying before she called and she sounded broken Jane."

Jane punched the door next to him, vaguely thinking he was surprised his hand didn't go through the glass. He told Grace not to worry and he would help her, he was on his way right now. He was barely aware of the rest of their conversation and was on the road to her house again.

What had he done?