This is sort of a cross between a Fathers' Day story and a tag for 5x02, Devil's Cherry. I had always wondered what would happen if Jane got addicted to the belladonna tea, or rather, if he got addicted to his hallucinations of Charlotte. I didn't really want to write the whole addiction route, but it seemed very unlikely to me that Jane would never touch the tea again, and so that's where this story came from. I hope you enjoy it!
Fathers' Day. Another one, alone. How many has it been? Ten? Each one hurts just as much as the last, Jane thought. He was sitting alone in his attic, wallowing in grief and self-pity. He wanted so badly to turn back the clock. It had been a long day, and Jane was exhausted from pretending to be fine. Lisbon, Van Pelt and even Rigsby had been sending him concerned looks all day. At least Cho had acted normally. Even so, Jane retreated to his attic as soon as possible.
He quickly searched the drawer of his desk until he found what he was looking for. Belladonna tea. He'd taken it from a crime scene months ago. Although he had used a portion of it that night, desperate to see his daughter again, he made sure to save some. Now seemed as good a time as any to use it; he missed her so much that it physically hurt.
The last time he had used it, Charlotte had given him a lecture about moving on. She had insisted that her and her mother wanted him to be happy, to get on with his life. She swore that if he used the tea again, she wouldn't come back. He had gone to bed crying that night, convinced that he wouldn't ever see her again. Even so, he hadn't been able to bring himself to throw away the remaining tea.
Jane was thankful that he kept an electric kettle with some water in the attic; he didn't think he'd be able to go downstairs and face the others. Especially Lisbon, who would be too concerned to leave him alone. He quickly heated up the water and as he poured it into his teacup, running it gently over the belladonna leaves. As he began, there was a knock at the door. Lisbon. Jane knew it was her before she called out to him.
"Jane? You in there?"
He didn't respond; he simply finished pouring the tea.
"Jane? Come on, open up!" Her concern was badly concealed. Jane sighed, knowing she wouldn't go away until she spoke with him, so he put his tea down on the desk and opened the door about six inches.
"What is it?" He asked, his voice coming out harder than intended.
"You okay?" Her voice was soft and gentle, reflecting the apprehension in her eyes.
"Sure," Jane said carelessly. "I'm fine. I'm actually in the middle of something, so if you don't mind…"
"In the middle of what?" Lisbon was instantly suspicious.
Jane sighed and changed the subject. "Did you need something?"
"You're not okay," Lisbon murmured. "Can I come in?"
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine." It was surprisingly difficult for Jane to put his mask back into place, to keep his voice from cracking. Although he was relatively successful, Lisbon knew he was lying. Not so much from observing his behaviour, but because she knew him so well. There was no way that he was okay, not on Fathers' Day.
"I'd feel better if you weren't alone." Lisbon gave up even trying to hide her concern.
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." As soon as you leave, I'll have Charlotte to keep me company.
"I am worried. I'm going to be downstairs for a little while longer before heading out. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She sighed, knowing she couldn't force her way in. Well, technically she could, but she respected him too much to do so.
"Thanks, Lisbon. I'll be fine, though," he tried to assure her.
"Are you going to be spending the night here?"
"Probably. Nowhere else to go," he said lightly, giving her a sad smile.
"You can come with me, Jane. Any time. You always have somewhere to go."
The seriousness in her eyes caught him off-guard, and he softened just a little bit. "Thank you, Lisbon. That means a lot."
She gave him a tentative smile. "I mean it."
His blue eyes met her green ones. "I know. I'll be okay tonight, though. Thank you."
Lisbon sighed. "Okay. You'll let me know if anything changes?"
"I will," Jane promised.
"All right. Good night, Jane." She gave him one last concerned look, and turned to leave.
"Night, Lisbon," he murmured, and then closed the door again.
He returned to his desk and picked up his tea. It was still steaming, and it made him smile. He took a sip and allowed the sweet warmth to fill him.
"Happy Fathers' Day, dad," Charlotte whispered.
Jane grinned widely. "You came back." Truthfully, he hadn't been sure, but the possibility that she might not was too painful for him to fully entertain.
"Of course I did. You wanted it too badly. I'm just a figment of your imagination, remember?"
Jane reached out to touch her. She felt solid enough, so he embraced her. A few tears fell down his cheeks, but he didn't let himself cry any further. He had a limited amount of time with Charlotte, and he wanted to make the best of it.
"Dad. You need to stop torturing yourself like this. You need to move on with your life. You know, shift into drive?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him.
"This isn't torture, Charlotte. Torture is you and your mother being gone."
"We're still gone, dad. You're talking to yourself right now. You pushed Lisbon away, a real person who can help you, so that you could sit up here in this pathetic attic, all alone and talking to yourself."
"Spare me the lecture, Charlotte," Jane pleaded. "I know, okay? I know you're only in my head, I know it's pathetic. But today, can't you just let me have this? I miss you so much."
Charlotte smiled, but it was full of pity. "Do you remember our last Fathers' Day together?"
"Of course," Jane smiled, both because of the happy memory and because he was so grateful that she had stopped lecturing him. "We made mud pie together. It was my favourite dessert, and you had begged your mother to buy the ingredients so that the two of us could make it together. And your mom was glad not to have to bake, so everyone was happy."
"You haven't had the mud pie since," Charlotte commented.
"No. It's not the same, making it by myself," Jane whispered.
"You should do it. You loved that stuff!" Charlotte urged.
"Maybe," Jane shrugged noncommittally.
"Why did you want to see me today, Dad? Why am I here?" Charlotte fixed him with a piercing stare.
"I just wanted to spend time with you. To see you, talk to you, anything. I just want you back." Jane's voice cracked slightly.
"Okay. We can do that," Charlotte said, giving him another pitying smile. "But I won't be here forever. You've got maybe an hour or so before the tea wears off enough for the hallucinations to stop."
"I know. But I'll take whatever I can get," Jane said dejectedly.
"After I'm gone, can you do me a favour? Can you call Lisbon? Tell her about this. Tell her about me. The real me, and your imagined version of me. I know we've been through this before and you're sick of hearing it, but you need to move forward. So today, we should spend some time saying goodbye. Okay?"
"The last two times you left without saying goodbye," Jane whispered. "Promise you won't do that this time?"
"Yeah, I promise," Charlotte told him. "As long as you hold up your end."
"Done," Jane said, smiling shyly.
Jane spent the next hour reminiscing with his daughter. There was no point in 'catching up', since she was dead and a hallucination, but he enjoyed talking with her. It was surprisingly easy, and he relaxed in a way that he hadn't in ages. That was why his daughter's next words nearly crushed him.
"It's time for me to go, dad," she murmured, giving him a sad smile.
"Now?" Jane realized how pitiful he sounded, but he didn't care.
"Now," she told him, soothingly but decisively. "Remember your promise."
Jane nodded. "I remember."
"I love you, dad. Mom does too. We both miss you, and we want you to be happy. I know you know that already, but I think you needed to hear it anyways," Charlotte whispered, wrapping her arms around her father.
"I love you, too," he muttered, tenderly returning her hug.
Charlotte giggled. "We know. You're not nearly as alone as you seem to think. Oh, and even though the hallucinations are nearly gone, you still shouldn't drive. Ask Lisbon to come here. She'll do it. She'll be glad you called."
With that, the feeling of her arms around him vanished. He instantly felt cold and lonely. With shaking hands, he picked up his phone and hit #1 on his speed dial.
"Lisbon? Yeah, hi, um…can you come here? I need you," Jane whispered, echoing the plea that she had made to him weeks earlier. "Yes, I'm still in the attic. Thank you, Lisbon."
Jane pressed a button to end the call, and then sat on the bed to wait. Ten minutes later, he heard a knock on the attic door. A small smile danced on his lips, but his grief wiped it away. He wasn't going to wear his mask or pretend that he wasn't hurting. "It's open," he called weakly.
Lisbon pushed the door open. "Hey," she said gently. "What's up?"
"I need to talk to you, if that's okay," he said softly. He forced a quick smile to try to put her at ease. It seemed to help, a bit.
"Sure," she responded. She walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. "What do you want to talk about?" Lisbon was worried that something was seriously wrong, but she was trying to act as casual as possible. She knew that if she were too concerned, he would keep everything to himself in a misguided attempt to protect her.
"I need to talk to you about Charlotte," Jane whispered. His voice was shaking, but he took a deep breath to gather every ounce of courage he had, and he slowly told Lisbon everything.