Notes:Happy Birthday to Country2776; here there is, even if I fear I didn't follow the prompt as you'd like it to be...
Disclaimer:The Mentalist mine? Yes, I can keep dreaming about it, but no, I don't own them...
The first few weeks she had simply been sad and distant, closed in herself, but the team could see that she was still, at some level, kind of functioning- she still had hope of seeing him again, to have him back.
Another couple of weeks, and she wasn't herself any longer- she barely spent time around them, even on the job, she wasn't tolerant or lenient any longer, ready to scream and jump at them for the smallest things, the dark circles around her eyes showed that she was losing sleep, and the clothes, always the same old ones, getting bigger and bigger with each passing day, were evidence that she was losing weight, giving up food and nourishment, and all because of one man and one man only, Jane.
All because she had finally given up hope of seeing him again waltzing into her office like nothing happened at all.
Regrets and fears and sorrow and what ifs were tainting here very existence, until, one night, Van Pelt returned late at the office to retrieve the scarf she had left there, and heard the sobs coming from the boss' office; she entered slowly, carefully, in silence, just to see the older, dark haired cop stiffing as soon as she realized that someone else was there with her. Grace just said that she had cried both for Craig - despite who and what he was- and for Wayne, even if she had been the one breaking it up with him, because, even if in different ways, she had lost them both at some point of her life, had lost two men she had loved with all her heart.
For the first time in years, Lisbon fell in pieces, breaking, shattering, in front of someone else; she buried her head in the crock of Grace's neck, crying her heart out for man who wasn't going to love her, never, ever in his life.
With Jane back from his trip to Vegas and fake-neurosis, she was, and felt, if not better, at least kind of normal. Until that very evening, at least, when few words shattered the balance turning her world upside down, breaking the fragile equilibrium he had tried to rebuilt in just a matter of days.
"We were lovers, didn't he tell you? Why, lover? Are you ashamed of me? Did we do something wrong?"
The words weren't spoken, more likely threw at her to show what a nothing she was for the man at her side, the nothing she had always been and was always going to be for him, and to say them was an evilly smiling, beautiful woman, whose only fault was being Red John's disciple, a young beautiful woman who, at first sight, had no issues whatsoever…
A beautiful, young woman Jane had slept with, throwing in the air almost 10 years of celibacy, the memory of his wife's body against his own. And he had done it because he didn't care. He didn't care what he had to do to get Red John, he didn't care who was going to pay or get hurt in the process, until he got what he wanted, because it was worth it, and he had used Lorelei like he had, and was going to, use everybody else along the road to vengeance.
Few minutes later, she was in the bathroom, with Grace holding her hair while she was throwing up bile, sobbing. "I guess this is what happens when you love the kind of man who will never love you…." She admitted, like an afterthought. She was definitely not herself any longer.
One evening, the team was at a bar called O'Malley, drinking and celebrating their last closed case- Lisbon was still at the office doing paperwork, while Jane was whatever he used to be alienating himself yet again from everything and everyone, like he did every time with every post-Red John outcome.
It had been two long months of silence, coldness and avoidance since Lorelai dropped the bomb that faithful night in the interrogation room.
"The boss is in love with Jane" she suddenly blurted out, quickly, almost eating the words as she said so- she even felt slightly guilty for having shared such a private secret, so much she kept staring at her feet blushing of a dark red nuance, almost the same as her hair.
Rigsby coughed as the food went the wrong way, the plate of hamburger and fries pushed away, cringing, suddenly unable to eat any longer. "Grace, that was an image I so didn't need in my mind while eating…"
"Nothing ever happened between them" Cho clarified looking in the distance at crossed arms, like it wasn't really his own problem.
"Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm not so keen on picturing them naked going at it at the office…. Oh God, I did it again…"
"Don't you think we should do something? She is so sad…"
"Playing matchmaker? Thanks, but no thanks. Think that I'll pass this time around."
"Rigsby is right. It's not our business."
"Yeah, well, but she is sad because she loves him and she thinks he doesn't reciprocate…. Even if he does." They stared at her, eyes wide open in surprise- yes, even Cho. He had to admit, that was a development he hadn't see coming. Jane with feelings was… a weird sight. "I kind of overheard him confessing his own feelings before he shoot her at the office. He probably had some kind of epiphany while in Vegas, you know? Realized he couldn't live without her…"
"Yeah, and he loved her so much that he slept with another woman to get Red John… and with all respect, Grace, don't think he wouldn't do it all over again if it could help him finding the monster."
"He has changed a lot since he returned… and you know I was the one who was against him returning to us the most!"
"It could be true, Grace, but what about the boss? She doesn't seem too keen in having him back full time on the job… I doubt she'd like to allow him in her private life right at this point."
"Yes, but, as I gave him a second chance, so should you, and Lisbon as well, he deserves it!" the men exchanged a pretty dirty look, and then eyed Grace, lifting, quizzically, their eyebrows, and grinned a little, almost laughing behind their teeth. "Ok, not the second, maybe the millionth, but I still think we should do something for them!"
"No"
"Sorry Grace, but Cho's right. Looks like you're all alone in this"
"Yeah, well, but I want you to remember that when she'll crash, we'll be the ones facing the consequences of their rage just because some lack of communication between those two idiots." She paused, smiling evilly, almost grinning. "I wonder if she'll put me, the one who picked up her pieces, or you, males like the one who destroyed her hopes at happiness, on stakeout and third watch for weeks at time…"
They exchanged a look, and gulped a mouthful of air before Cho spoke again. "What's your plan?"
She smiled triumphally.
She reached the attic in quite an hurry, after Grace frantically begged her to, saying that Jane had finally lost it, had gone crazy, this time for real, showing up completely drunk, stating that he had no reason left to live, barricading himself in his man-cave or whatever the attic was for him- like Grace had thought, she didn't wait for her, just run to him, like, whatever she wanted to admit it or not, she had always done, and always will.
Running to catch up with her boss, on her way to the attic, Grace showed her co-workers a thumb up, waiting for Rigsby's nod of approval that he had done his part and Jane had believed him when he had told him Lisbon had touched his things - everything is all right and everyone is where they are supposed to be, they silently said in a language known only to themselves.
When she reached the attic, he was frantically looking around, clenching a piece of paper in his fists- she hoped it wasn't his goodbye letter.
"Jane, please, don't do anything foolish!" with tears in her eyes, and with sobs in her voice, she reached for him, run to him, and embraced the man, hold him like for dear life, getting lost in his green-azure eyes, his azure-green eyes that were quizzically staring at her. Very sober eyes. "Jane.. you… aren't drunk….?"
"Uhm…nope?" He wondered. He may had an idea where she was trying to go, but he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of many things any longer; he may wanted to say something else, but there was a sound stopping him to inquire in their situation furthermore, the door closing, shouting, lock clicking.
"Oh, well, I guess that this was what they meant when they told me in their letter that we could talk as much as we wanted because we had enough food for the weekend… interesting, really."
"Interesting? We are closed here, locked in a room with you, and all you can say is that this is an interesting situation? What kind of idiot are you, Jane?" She screamed at the top of her lugs, facing him, teary. And then, he knew, it wasn't because of the closed door. It was much more, much worse. And it was all his fault.
"Lisbon…. I'm sorry for Lorelai, and because I didn't tell you sooner. But…. Had I knew how much I was going to hurt you, I would have never done it to begin with."
"You know what? Just…. Shout up. I've heard enough particulars about your magnificent night in bed with the dirty, sexy waitress by the witch's own mouth!"
"They want us to talk, Lisbon, and they are right! We need to clear the water and…"
"SHOUT UP!" She screamed, sobbing and crying, just like she had done for months, weeks after he had gone. "Didn't you and your beauty punish me enough? She already told me more that I would have liked to know… Why can't you shout up about this? Why can't you…. Why don't you leave me alone, why can't you just vanish from my life?"
"Because I missed you, all those nights, I kept thinking about you." He paused, a lingering and sad look on his beautiful features. "I still miss you. I want you back so badly…. You don't even know the half of it."
"I've never been yours, Jane…and even if I were been, this time there's nothing you can do to make it better."
"I meant it when I told you I loved you." He admitted, having to use his last card, a plea for forgiveness and acceptance and the return to a life he couldn't fathom any longer if she wasn't there, in any form, friend, boss, lover, he didn't care. He just needed his Lisbon back, where she belonged: his life, in any possible way.
"I'm not so sure I should trust you this time…."
"I'll show you that you should have faith in me, that you still can do it." He whispered, huskily, and when she opened her eyes, she gasped, seeing him so close, just a breath apart; he leaned toward her, and kissed her, one kiss, small, delicate, until she opened her mouth to him, allowed his tongue to pass its confine, and deepened the kiss, taking hold of an handful of curls.
Holding her, they walked backward towards his makeshift bed, until his knees hit the wood and they fell on the rough, unclean covers, and kissing her some more, he cuddled her in his chest, close to him, holding her like the most precious thing in his life -he held her, and cuddled her, and talked to her and loved her for a long weekend.