A/N: Hi! Just a three part story inspired by the song "Your Love is My Drug" by Ke$ha. This is kind of a slow chapter but the other two are better. I'm still working on "The Only Exception" but it should be up soon enough. Thanks to those who reminded me about it.
Louise
Xxxx
Maybe I need some rehab
Or maybe just need some sleep
I got a sick obsession
I'm seeing it in my dreams
I'm looking down every alley
I'm making those desperate calls
I'm staying up all night hoping –
Hitting my head against the wall.
Patrick Jane had one goal in life; to find Red John. Behind the smiles and the magic tricks, it plagued his thoughts. Ever since the night he had lost the family he had loved, he had dedicated his life to the cause of catching him and making him suffer.
He barely ever slept. When he did he saw horrific images of his dead wife cradling their daughter's little body. Whenever their team came up against a Red John case, it was like a switch flipped in his head. He'd change from their friendly consultant to an unrecognisable man, full of determination and hate. He had joined the CBI for that one reason. He hadn't ever considered the people there. They hadn't even registered with him. He had never guessed that he would end up loving each and every one of them. Van Pelt; always seeing whatever good she could within people. Rigsby; with his eternal hunger and endearing nature. Cho; his head always stuck in a book, piping up only occasionally with his quick wit. Lisbon; basically everything about her had given him cause to love her since day one. The fact that she genuinely cared about him (no matter how vehemently she denied it) and his problems was the first of many things about her that had surprised him.
Every now and then, Jane saw the change in himself. Some days, after a rare night of sleep, he would wake up without his thoughts shooting straight to Red John. Some mornings it would be a case, others, it would be happy memories of his family. Sometimes it would be with a new idea of how to scam Cho and Rigsby out of another ten bucks, and, some days, he would open his eyes already wondering how to make Teresa Lisbon smile that day. Those were the mornings that startled him. He felt that he deserved to wake in a cold sweat after another cruel nightmare. These people that he saw as a kind of family had begun to revive him.
He wasn't sure how it had happened but each one of them each, in their own way contributed to his growing happiness. He never dared hope that he would have someone to go to when he felt alone. He lost all value in people the day his family were murdered, but now, if someone asked him who the most important person to him was, he would have an answer. Lisbon.
And he needed her now, after this case. He needed to talk to the woman who had become his best friend, and whom he was now feeling something else for. Something he had tried to deny he felt. He picked up the phone and dialled. They had only left work an hour ago so he knew that she was probably watching TV on her couch, having come in the door and collapsing on to it. He smiled at the thought.
"Hello?"
"Teresa? It's Patrick."