What Hurts the Most, a mentalist fanfic

I don't own the Mentalist.

What Hurts the Most

Lisbon has always hidden her feelings inside her heart. When Jane is found guilty of murdering Red John, will she keep them in anymore?

Patrick Jane had crossed the line. He had gone into Lisbon's office and messed up her desk.

"Jane!" Lisbon yelled.

"Yes, Teresa?"

"Why did you screw with my desk?"

"Because I was looking for a piece of paper."

"What piece of paper?"
"I didn't find it. You didn't loose anything. But I do need to take the rest of the day off. It is very important."

"We need you here! Red John will attack again. We can't be having you killed, not on my watch."

"Do we need me here or just you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you keep your feelings hidden but you can't hide them from me."

"How dare you! Fine, take the day off. If you end up dead, don't haunt me!"

"I don't think I will. Oh, Teresa?"

"Yes, Jane?"

"Good-bye."

"I will see you tomorrow."

The CBI was called to a crime scene at a huge house in Beverly Hills. It was the home of the guy they had pin pointed as Red John.

"Hello, I'm Jason Searn, officer here in Beverly Hills. A man was murdered inside. His head was bashed in with the blunt side of a knife. His neck was slit post mortem and his nails were painted in what we think is his own blood. A copy cat's version of the Red John smiley face was painted above the body. The scene is terrible and if I were you I wouldn't go in the house."

"Then why did you call us here?"

"Because a Patrick Jane was found on the premises, trying to escape."

"Patrick Jane?"

"That's what he said his name was. He also admitted to everything and wants to do the jail time."

"Rigsby, Cho, VanPelt, we can't do this case. Let's go back to head quarters."

"Well, this case is yours, isn't it?"

"No, Jane works with us. Our judgment might be cloudy on the subject."

"Yes, then another CBI team will handle his interrogation?"

"That I will have handled." Lisbon led the others back down to the SUV and cars so they could talk to Jane.

"Patrick, why did you do it?"

"Teresa, you knew I would. That man murdered my family and destroyed my life."

"Jane, that doesn't mean you can kill him. Putting him in jail would have done the same for him what he did for you. You killing him was what he wanted."

"I knew you cared, Teresa. I always knew you cared."

"Then why didn't you listen to me?"

"Because my conscience died with Kayla and Lacie."

"Bye, Jane. Take him away!"

"Good-bye Teresa, dear."

"I'm not your dear!"

"But you could have been."

"That's your fault!"

Two days later, Patrick was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison, without parole. At the sentencing, Jane sat there in peace and when he saw Lisbon, he just looked straight through her.

"Why does he give you the hurt look?" Grace asked.

"Because he now realizes that what he's done has hurt us both."

"You both?" Cho asked.

Lisbon had already walked away.

Teresa was in her room later that day, lying on her bed. She had her radio on and the end of "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts was playing. It was to a tee what she felt like.

I can take the interview with a suspect, that don't bother me. I can take a few tears in hiding and just let them out.

I will be afraid to cry about the time we had, going on with you gone will upset me. There will be days every now and again, I will pretend I'm okay but that's not what will get me.

What hurts the most, was being so close and having so much to say and watching you get pulled away. Never knowing, what could've been and not saying that loving you is what I was trying to do.

It's going to be hard to deal with losing you at work, but I can do it. Forcing a smile, when I see our friends will be hard.

Still harder, getting dressed, living with this regret. But I know if I could do it all over, I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart. That I left unspoken.

What hurts the most, was being so close and having so much to say and watching you get pulled away. Never knowing, what could've been and not saying that loving you is what I was trying to do.

Teresa sat in a little booth that was connected to a phone. Across from her was Patrick Jane. A plain of glass was the only thing between them.

Patrick's face was pale; his eyes were glassy, his lips formed a frown, and his hair was rough and unorganized. Jane looked like a man that had been in jail for many years, not just a few days.

After four minutes of silence, Teresa picked up the phone, Jane followed.

" Not saying that I loving you, that's what I was trying to do. " She put down the phone, stood and left. Jane sat there for a minute before the tears started to fall.