a/n: this might just be the longest oneshot i've ever written. this was for my english class, you will have to excuse the mix of last names, but still same characters(: in case you haven't heard, a few days ago i learned that for english we had to write a short story of our choice! of course, i just had to pull a Jisbon(: anyways, its all correct grammar and that fun stuff nobody likes. kind of like chapter 6 of Hey, Look! Strawberries! but then its sadder. character deathh, made me upset and those who read it tooo. review, it would make me feel like my hard work paid off.
disclaimer: how could i possibly own the mentalist if i was stuck in my room forever perfecting this paper? yeah.
Teresa Jane flashed her badge to the man guarding the door, and walked towards the elevator. Her wavy black hair rested softly on her shoulders, and played along the edges of her pale face. She hopped onto the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, a man's hand shot in the free space, pushed the doors back open, and shot Teresa a wide grin.
He sauntered over to her. "Why, if it isn't Teresa Jane."
"Why, if it isn't Patrick Baker." she sarcastically replied.
"How was your weekend?" his sky blue eyes twinkled.
"Just fine and yours?" Teresa replied with a frown.
"Just lovely." he ran his fingers through his curly blonde hair. "You know what, Teresa? I get the feeling you don't enjoy talking to me!"
"Why would you ever think that?" she rolled her eyes.
"Oh, sarcasm. That's cold, Teresa." he pretended to look hurt.
Teresa just smiled and stepped off the elevator. She walked into the Washington D.C. Bureau of Investigation squad room and into her office, dropping her bag and shutting the door. There was a man standing behind her desk. She saw a red blur and heard a gun explode with a loud bang. Before she could figure out what was happening, she dropped to the floor and passed out.
She woke up, hearing a beep every few seconds. Her abdomen hurt, and her chest was heavy.
"Teresa, what do you remember happening?"
Her heart was throbbing in her head, her body feeling woozy, and she was lightheaded.
"Teresa?"
"Alright, already! Dang, don't you have any patience?" she yelled at the man. She heard someone chuckle in the background.
"Alright, doc. Let me take over. I'll talk to her; otherwise somebody's going to get hit." she couldn't put a finger on it yet, but she recognized the voice. Everything was in slow motion, yet it felt like she had already been awake for years.
She heard footsteps, and a door closing. A hand then gripped hers, and calming fingers came up and brushed across her forehead.
"Tess, what's up?"
She groaned. "Patrick? Is that you?"
"Yes ma'am, it is!" he piped.
She smiled a bit, before gripping his hand as if it were the only thing keeping her conscious.
"What do you remember?" he whispered softly. "Tell me with as much detail and description as possible."
"I remembered gripping on to your hand as I was getting rolled into the hospital. I remember the bullet throbbing in my abdomen, and somebody's hands applying pressure to the wound. I remember the red stains on my shirt, and everywhere else." Teresa shut her eyes and her throat closed up. "There was red everywhere." she whispered.
He leaned forward, his blonde curls tickling her face as he looked her in the eyes. "Somebody got into your office. We are going to catch him, Teresa."
She calmed down quickly, breathing shallow and through her nose. She suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion flow through her. Slowly, her thoughts began to come back.
"What do the doctors think?" she stared off into space.
He paused, and looked away. "They don't know yet. You lost a lot of blood."
"So, I'm going to die." she answered her own question.
"Don't be a pessimist! Teresa, you are unbreakable. You are going to make it." Patrick brushed his hand over her wound, making her flinch a bit.
"What makes you think that?" she looked away.
"Well, you are Teresa Jane. You are so strong, and you are a fighter. Nobody can tear you down." he paused.
She looked away, tears filling her emerald green eyes.
He slid his hand over hers and brushed over her soft skin before turning over her palm, tracing lines with his finger. He played with her hand before leaning down to kiss it. He stood up, and left the room in silence. He took one last look at Teresa, her lightly freckled face. Her face was pale, but now it seemed paler than ever before. Her eyes were closed, and he watched her chest for the rise and fall, watching her fall asleep. He turned his head and closed the door softly.
The sound of the doctors rushed words and rapid movements woke him. He stood up and sprinted into the room. Teresa lay unconscious and hyperventilating on the bed as multiple doctors rushed in and out, bringing tools and syringes with them. The fast and shrill beeps reminded Patrick of a young child screaming helplessly. He was not about to lose Teresa Jane, his best friend and partner. As time passed, the room became tenser. The doctors were moving faster and shouting out orders to one another. Patrick was holding his breath. There was a long steady beep and a red line horizontally crossing the Heart Rate Monitor machine. One of the doctors yelled for a crash cart, and opened Teresa's hospital gown. He put two paddles on Teresa's chest and held them down.
"Charging... clear!" the man shocked Teresa's chest, making her whole frame seem to leap out of the bed, with her neck flopping helplessly.
"No pulse." said the nurse in a panicked voice while looking at the screen.
"Charging... clear!" this time after the shock, the machine quieted down. The head doctor injected a syringe into her IV and walked over to Patrick.
"We put her in a medically induced coma." the doctors pained face worried Patrick. "It's what's keeping her living and breathing right now." he paused and looked back at Teresa. "We can give you a few moments alone, but then we will have to take her out."
Patrick's heart dropped. He stared at the man as if he had heard wrong. "Take her out?" he could barley manage to choke out the words.
The doctor nodded sadly. "There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry. Do you want me to call anyone?"
Patrick thought about the other members of the team. "No, I can handle it."
The doctor patted him on the back before he walked out the door.
He walked over to Teresa. Looking down at her and seeing her exhausted face and pale skin frightened him. Her small frame looked cold and uncared for against the harsh white hospital sheets. Patrick sat down and took Teresa's hand, knowing it may be the last time. The thought of a world without Teresa was unthinkable. Patrick leaned forward, and kissed her cheek softly. He sat back against the chair, and began to think out loud.
"How could somebody do this? How could you want to take somebody out of the world in such a cruel and painful way to those around them?" He muttered, staring at the ground with squinted eyes. "They say there is a God, but I don't believe them. If there was a God and he was as great as everyone says he is, then Teresa would not be here, not here lying... dying on a hospital bed, hopeless and unknowing. I'll never be able to talk to her again... hear her voice when she was interrogating a suspect..." his rambling faded off, and he listed reasons in his head.
The way she yelled at him when he goofed off or the way she talked with a smile. Hearing her laugh, the sun shining against her face and the twinkle her green eyes got whenever she was playing sarcastically with Patrick were his reasons to carry on. They were being yanked from him faster than he could comprehend. Those days were over, and Patrick just wasn't ready.
The red alarm clock sitting on her bedside table was counting down the seconds. He leaned forward and kissed her hand just as the alarm went off, as if telling Patrick that it was time. The doctor came back into the room. He looked at Patrick, sympathy written across his face. He walked over to a machine that had a tube in Teresa's arm, and began shutting off the buttons, one by one. With each flick, his heart ached more. The final machine shut off, and it was silent in the room. The doctor looked at his watch, and then Teresa.
"It should take about a minute."
Patrick nodded, and the man left again.
Patrick leaned forward, and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on her lips, and allowed the tears to drop onto her face. He closed his eyes and pulled back, still holding onto Teresa's hand. When the minute was up, he stood up.
"I'll love you forever... forever and always." he whispered into the air. He looked down at his hand, and saw the ring, with the red jewel shining in the middle. He took it off his finger and slid it onto Teresa's.
He took one last look at her and left. He stood behind the glass window, watching as the nurse adjusted Teresa's bed so she was lying with her upper body propped up, and she pulled the white sheet over Teresa's small frame.
He watched until the tears blurred his vision. Patrick then dried his eyes, took a deep breath and then turned around and walked away.
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