Silver Lining (AU)
Who: Lisbon, Jane
What: An unexpected discovery about the death of Jane's family
When: Sometime after the death of Red John (AU)
Where: Their apartment in Sacramento
Why: What if his family didn't die in the way he thought?
Disclaimer: I own no part of The Mentalist TV series, characters, scripts, etc.
AU: What if Jane's family didn't die in the way he thought? After the demise of Red John, Jane and Lisbon talk about their lives together and how things might have been different if Jane knew one key fact.
Lisbon pulled into her parking space at their apartment building, glad the workweek was finally over. She walked past the cars to the lobby and frowned, noting the Citroen was parked cater‑cornered to the lines and too close to the next car. Sloppy for Jane. Lisbon walked past the mailboxes to the elevator, then paused and stepped back to check for mail. The mail was still there. Either he was in a rush or he got home before the mail came. Wonder what's up.
Lisbon locked the apartment door and put her briefcase and purse on the foyer table. She found Jane asleep in bed. She was surprised to see his clothes piled haphazardly on the nearest chair. Odd.
"Jane?" No response. She lightly touched his shoulder. He felt unusually warm and she felt his forehead. Hot. Sick? Jane groaned but didn't wake. Lisbon fetched the tympanic thermometer and got a reading without waking him: 102 degrees. Pale, drawn, sweating a little, breathing shallow and fast. Flu. Nasty strain going around. She tucked the sheet and blanket around his shoulders and left him to sleep undisturbed.
Friday was the first of six days in bed.
~.~.~.~
Lisbon was reading the Saturday newspaper with her morning coffee when she heard Jane stirring. He was brushing his teeth in the master bathroom when she stepped in.
"Good morning. How do you feel? You slept 16 hours!"
"I feel like I look," he said, rinsing his mouth out. He cupped his hand to drink from the faucet. He shivered as his arm accidently touched the cool granite.
Lisbon got the thermometer out of the drawer. "Hold still while I take your temperature. You look like death warmed over."
"That's better than I feel."
"No wonder. Your temperature is over 102." Her forehead wrinkled with worry. "Maybe we should go to the emergency room."
"Don't be silly. I'm not under one, over 60, or pregnant. I can sleep in the hospital for a thousand bucks a night, or do it here, free. You go. I'm going back to bed."
"Jane, you are an awful patient. Here, take some aspirin to get the fever down." She fished the aspirin bottle out of the bathroom closet and handed him two tablets, which he took with more water. "I set out water and vitamin C on your night stand. Also, there are three types of juice in the refrigerator–orange, cranberry, and apple. You know–drink plenty of fluids."
He scowled at her. "Enough. Don't nag." He slid his hand along the wall for balance as he walked back to the bed. "Good night." Jane spent the rest of Saturday in bed, getting up only to use the bathroom.
~.~.~.~
By Sunday, Jane had added a dry cough to his other symptoms. As the day wore on, his temperature inevitably rose. She sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Jane, your temperature is 103 degrees. I get worried at anything over 102."
Groggy. "Can't I just be sick in peace?"
Firmly, "No. You have two choices. Either go to the emergency room. Or, get your temperature down by taking a cool bath."
Annoyed, "I'm not four. Just let me be!"
"You're acting like four. I'll be back as soon as I fill the tub."
She returned 10 minutes later. "Come on. Gotta do this." She took his arm and coaxed him out of bed to the main bathroom. She had turned the apartment's thermostat up and the bathroom was steamy, but he still shivered as he pulled his shorts off.
Jane dipped his hand in the nearly full tub. "Ah! It's cold!"
"It's tepid. It just feels cold because of your fever."
He slowly eased into the water, grimacing at the shock of the cooler water on his skin. "Wait." Lisbon laid a bath towel against the back slope of the tub and folded a hand towel as a pillow. "Now lean back."
"Thanks." Jane leaned back, eyes closed, submerged up to his neck. The waves of shivering tapered off and finally stopped.
After half an hour, Lisbon took his temperature again. "It's down–under 102. Good."
He opened his eyes. "How 'bout that? I feel a little better, too. Well, while I'm here, might as well clean up." He got up, let the water drain while getting the faucet temperature just right, then showered. Lisbon got him bath towels, fresh underwear, and a throw blanket. After drying off, he had juice and toast in the kitchen. Lisbon asked if he wanted any of the dinner she had prepared. He paled and swallowed hard to keep down what he'd eaten. He returned to bed.
~.~.~.~
By Monday, Jane's temperature stayed below 102 degrees and Lisbon was comfortable leaving him to go to work. She left a few books and articles on his night stand in case he wanted to read. He still had the cough, but felt and looked better.
"Hi, Marin County Police Department? Chief Reinholdt, please. ... Could you give him a message? Patrick Jane will be out with the flu, at least for the first part of this week. ... I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon with the CBI. He can call me at 398-1517 if there are any questions. Thank you."
When she got home, Jane had dressed and was sitting on the sofa. He was asleep, but joined her in the kitchen when she made dinner for herself. He drank juice and tea.
Neither got much sleep that night because he coughed whenever he lay down. The OTC cough suppressants suppressed nothing. Jane considerately relocated to the living room after midnight, but his coughing still kept her awake.
~.~.~.~
Both rose early Tuesday morning. They weren't getting much sleep anyhow. Lisbon was merely tired. Worried, she noted Jane looked worse. Still sick, the lack of sleep had set him back. When she left for work he was dozing, sitting upright on the sofa under a throw blanket.
Lisbon called Jane's primary care doctor from work. She talked him into prescribing codeine to quell Jane's coughing, despite the doctor's reservations about prescribing an opiate without an exam. She knew he wouldn't have done it without her CBI credentials, Jane's lack of drug use/abuse problems, and Jane's well‑known reluctance to see doctors. She used her lunch hour to fill the prescription and get more OTC decongestant.
When Lisbon got home, Jane was asleep at the kitchen counter, head on folded arms on top of the newspaper. There was an empty juice glass and half a cup of tea. He took the codeine immediately and she knew the coughing had been making him miserable. At least the congestion in his chest was breaking up and the coughing was doing some good. He sat at the kitchen counter as she made dinner for herself. Jane still turned down her offer of food, but was feeling well enough for real conversation.
"Thanks, Lisbon. Sorry to be so much trouble. I know I'm a pain in the ass when I'm sick."
"Only then? Hadn't noticed much difference." Her smile took the sting out of the words. More seriously, "Jane, I can do this TLC stuff with my eyes shut. I spent 20 years raising my younger brothers, remember? Besides, it's actually kinda comforting to be worrying about ordinary problems."
"As opposed to–?"
"Red John. Organized corruption. Death threats."
"Hard to disagree when you put it that way." He sipped his juice. Frowning, "Teresa, you did spend 20 years raising your brothers."
"Sure. You knew that."
"I hadn't thought about it that way... Umm, how do you feel about taking on another 20-year commitment to raise our family?"
She looked at him in surprise. "We talked about this. We both want children."
"Do we? Or are you just going along knowing how much I want kids?"
Lisbon put down the hot pan holder and turned to face him. She paused a moment, taking the care to organize her thoughts commensurate with the weight of the question. "This is important. Not just about kids, but about anything major. I am not just going along. In fact, I'm surprised you'd think I was."
"Just concerned. I want to be sure I'm not unreasonable because of my needs."
"Jane, I own my decisions. I'm not going to agree to something, then claim you made me do it."
"Never thought you would. Having a family is a huge commitment. You've already stepped up to raise your brothers."
"My options weren't great. But that was my choice. I don't regret keeping the kids together rather than going the foster care route."
"What do you want, Teresa? Kids are a big complication for women with demanding careers. I don't want to get my way at your expense."
"You won't. I want kids with you and I've wanted that for years. I'd think long and hard before buying into a traditional marriage. I've seen you with kids. -I've seen you in every conceivable situation over the last 10 years. I'm confident I won't end up doing most of the work. Am I wrong?"
"No."
"Marriage should be a win-win proposition. We help each other get the most we can out of life. We're marrying because what we want is largely compatible. You're slippery about a lot of things. But once you accept an obligation, I've never known anyone go to greater lengths to live up to it."
He sighed. "Comforting. I do want kids. I'm glad you want them, too."
It was a quiet night. Both turned in early to make up for the previous night. Since Jane was able to sleep without coughing, they both had a good night.