I absolutely could not get this idea out of my head. Right when I'm telling myself "Okay, Tygie. Time to update your stories," the other side of my brain pulls a plot bunny out of the long forgotten files.
On the bright side, it's a Jisbon plot bunny, and, heck, who doesn't love Jisbon?
Disclaimer: Ask yourself if you truly believe I own The Mentalist. The answer is I don't.]
i.
Jane poked his had into her office. "Lisbon?" he asked. She didn't look up.
The consultant eased himself into the office, just standing there. He didn't sit on his (or is it hers? or maybe their?) couch, didn't lean against her desk, just stood there, hands in his coat pockets.
"Look, Lisbon, I-"
He was cut off by Lisbon standing and storming past him, her hair streaming behind her as she rushed out of the office, her head down. "Don't Jane. Just don't"
ii.
Patrick sat on his couch, sipping a cup of earl gray from his favorite teacup. He stared off into space, frowning. His head jerked up, however, when Lisbon entered. "Teresa! I've been waiting for you!" he stood, his grin half-returning.
It dropped when she didn't make eye contact with him like she used to, didn't retort like she used to, and simply stated, "Good. Get used to it," her voice cracked. "I sure did."
She scooped a file from Van Pelt's desk and went back to her office.
Jane sank back into his couch, glancing around at his colleague's faces. Cho had a frown, and eyes that showed that Jane had hurt someone the asian man cared about, and even though Jane was a friend, it would take a heck of a long time for Cho to accept an apology.
Rigsby didn't meet Jane's eyes, and Jane could sense a melting pot of anger, confusion, dissapointment, and a broken trust.
The third face, the one belonging to Jane's favorite redhead, was full of unbelieval, disgust, horror, and...fear.
And Jane didn't blame them. He hated himself for doing it. Hated himself more than he ever had. And so, in a state of blankness, he dropped the teacup (his teacup, the one thing that still seemed to care about and love Jane) and put his head in his hands, letting it (and it seemed his life was riding along) shatter.
iii.
Jane parked his car, shuffling up Lisbon's driveway. As he rang the doorbell, he thought of what he would say (becaue God knows how good Jane is at winging apologies). Thought, maybe, just maybe if he was able to get her to just listen he would be able to sew up the patches.
Lisbon opened the door, clad in sweats and a ponytail in her hair. Jane winced when he saw her.
Had he really done that much?
She seemed, if possible, skinnier, her once form-fitting shirt hanging off of her. Her bare arms, once muscular, yet lithe, were skinny as noddles. What hurt Jane most, though, were her eyes. Her once bright green eyes now seemed dead, with dark bags surrounding them.
"What do you want." Lisbon stated, her voice flat.
"To say I'm sorry, Lisbon. So here goes - I'm sorry. Please, please, please if you can just find it in your heat t-"
"Should have thought of my heart before you freaking left me, huh?" Actaully - scratch Jane's last comment. This was what hurt most. Lisbon had simply given up. Her voice sounded dead, unwilling to even muster up any emotion.
And then, she slammed the door in Jane's face.
Jane ran his fingers through his curls, pulling the paper and pen out of his pocket.
Two minutes later, the paper airplane stating I'm really sorry on it was going through Lisbon's window.
And ten seconds later it was in shreds, scattered below the same window.
iv.
Jane knew he wouldn't give up. So, as he knocked, then entered Lisbon's office when everyone, even hard-working Grace had retired for the night, he made sure he was blocking the door so she couldn't leave.
Like before, Lisbon didn't look up, didn't speak.
"I meant it." Jane started. "What I said. When I was standing here. And you were standing right by me. I pulled out that gun, and knew I would finally tell you."
Lisbon abruptly stood, walking towards the door (and, subsequently, Jane). But Patrick lightly, but firmly, stopped her by grabbing her arm.
"It was the worst mistake I ever made. Leaving you, I mean." Lisbon's eyes softened slightly.
"But I think you should just give me one more chance."
And they hardened again, growing angry. "Look, Jane," Lisbon's voice shook. "I don't really care if you think you can walk all over me. I really don't. But when you have the nerve to...to...betray your wife, betray me, betray yourself by sleeping with your nemesis's girlfriend, I think it's enough. So don't you come here having the nerve to ask me to forgive you. It's going to take more. You can't win me over like you usually do, with a few charming words and your smile. It won't work this time."
"But, Lisbon-"
"Don't 'but Lisbon'" she mocked him, "me!" she was positively yelling now. Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she backed away. "It's done, Jane! I want you to leave! Go find Red John! Just go! Get out of here! I want you to leave, and this time, don't come back! Ever!" She hurled a box of paperclips at him, collapsing on the couch, silent sobs racking her body.
"I'm sorry, Teresa," Jane whispered as he ducked out of the door. "I'm so, so sorry..."
v.
Of course, he was back the next day. He would always be back, right? And he decided to try just once more.
Once more.
All he did was poke his head into her office door, taking a deep breath, and saying,
"Look, I know you told me not to come back, but I feel like I need to, Teresa. I need to be with you. I didn't realize until I heard it coming out of my mouth one night when I couldn't sleep, but you are my lifeline and I love you. Okay? I just wanted to say that." But suddenly, he couln't stop.
"And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for thinking I could just walk out, sorry for betraying you and everyone else, I'm sorry for sleeping with Lorelei, I'm sorry for not texting you back, I'm sorry I'm so obssessed.
"Red John is like a drug, Lisbon. He's the most addicting substance in the world, but he's also ruining my life. I wanted to come back to you, I really did, but I knew Red John would kill you if I did. He won't stop until I'm miserable for the rest of my life. And that's why it matters to me so much. It doesn't matter to me because of Angela and Charlotte as much anymore, it's more because if he's not dead he'll kill everyone else just to get at me.
"So right now I'm just going to tell you that if you don't forgive me quick, I'm going to have to leave again. I have to go find him, aand hunt him down once and forever. Because he will make a mistake eventually, and I will find it.
"And I'm saying right now that I won't be able to answer your phone calls, emals, or texts if I go, because it will draw me back in and bring me back to you, Lisbon. I wouldn't be able to control myself.
"Please, Teresa. Forgive me. I'm pleading with you. Please." He finished, surprised that she hadn't interrupted him through his speech.
But there was silence. Lisbon just turned a page, and continued writing.
And so Jane waited for what felt like forever, then left the office.
I guess it's over, he thought. I guess it's really over.
He didn't look back, and if he would, he would have seen Lisbon staring after him, eyes full of bitter sadness, and maybe even longing.
vi.
Jane was sipping tea out of a normal black mug at his kitchen table when there was a knock at his door. Wearily, he stood, throwing open the door without seeing who it was first.
Immedately, he stumbled backward, having been attacked by skinny, frail arms encircling him.
As a faint scent of cinnamon hit his nose, he knew who it was. It was his Teresa.
He awkwardly patted her back, as the brunette was holding his arms to his sides, preventing him from properly hugging her back.
"I'm sorry, Jane." she murmured into his vest.
"You have nothing to be sorry about."
"I'm still sorry."
"I know."
"I forgive you."
" I hoped."
She pulled away, looking up at him. "Please don't leave me again."
He cradled her face with his rough hands, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I won't. Never again."
"I believe you."
THE END