A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back from my writer's block (I know, it wasn't that long, but the days in school are VERY long, and that makes me tired and unable to write more stories. Sorry!), and I came up with this story! At first I wanted this one to be a one-shot, but now, I've already written three chapters, so yeah...
Anyway, this story is my first M-rated story that contains, well, adult themes :D. So don't be too hard on me, I mean, I'm only 16, so you can't blame me, right?
So this story is M. M! If you don't like that, don't read it! :D
Read and review this story, please!
Disclaimer: The Mentalist is not mine.
"Jane, shut up!" Lisbon exclaimed, as she jumped out of the car. Jane was rambling on about things again, and it annoyed her. They were on a crime scene now, for god's sake, he had to show a little respect.
"Sorry, Lisbon," he said, and let her walk into the house first. Lisbon rolled her eyes. Like being generous was going to help him.
"Hey Boss," Van Pelt, who was waiting in the hall, said. Lisbon looked at her, and nodded. Van Pelt walked towards the room where the victim was, apparently, and opened the door. When Lisbon and Jane entered the room, they were caught with an awful sight: A young girl, around the age of fourteen, was laying on a bed, her hands cuffed to the headboard. There were sheets covering her, but Lisbon guessed she was naked.
For Lisbon, it felt as a punch in her stomach. Jane noticed.
"Something wrong?" he asked, and Lisbon shook her head.
"Excuse me," she said, and ran outside. Jane looked at Van Pelt, but she raised her shoulders as well.
Lisbon ran into the bathroom, locking it behind her, and fell to the floor. She buried her head into her hands, and felt she was crying.
What was she doing? This was ridiculous. But the sight of the young girl felt all too familiar for her, and it was too much.
Her dad raised his arms. Teresa braced herself, expecting his fist to hit her jaw, slamming her unconscious.
But it never came.
Instead, he grabbed her arms, and pushed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers. Teresa's eyes widened.
"Dad," she said, but he didn't listen. Instead, he bowed down, placing small kisses on her cheek.
"You know, Tessie, you're really beautiful," he whispered in her ear, which made her shudder. She wanted to push him away from her, but she knew that if she did that, he would become angry.
These kind of things always happens when he was drunk; always. But this beats everything. It usually stayed at hitting her or her brothers, seconds later regretting it and saying he's sorry and asking for their forgiveness. They knew they could only obey, and give him what he wanted.
She just hoped it wouldn't aggravate if she just kept quiet.
But her father didn't stop. He suddenly placed one of his hands on her breast, and Teresa gasped.
"You know, you look a lot like your mother, Tessie."
He placed his other hand between her legs, and she suddenly felt tears escaping her eyes.
"Daddy, please," she whimpered.
"Tessie, I need this, okay?" her dad muttered, and Teresa cried. He caught her lips with his, and Teresa wanted to escape, wanted to push him away from her, but she couldn't. He was too strong for her.
The hand that was fiercely placed on her breast now went down as well, underneath her shirt. Teresa slapped his arm, and he finally pulled away.
He was suddenly angry, and it scared her.
He lifted his arm, and hit her face.
"Why don't you listen to me?" he exclaimed, and Teresa lifted her hands in defense.
"Leave me alone!" she replied, and walked past him. But he grabbed her arm, turned her around and pushed her on the bed. Her chin hit her chest in the fall, and she saw stars for a moment.
"Why don't you listen to me!" he exclaimed again, but when Teresa just started crying, he sighed. He sat down on her legs, painfully pressing Teresa into the bed, and she once again tried to shove him away from her.
He reached out, and covered her breasts. He grabbed her arms, and laid down on top of her, placing her arms above her head.
He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and Teresa felt her stomach turn. Were dads supposed to do this?
He kissed her lips, her throat, his hands all the while supporting every little move he made. Her breath caught in her throat when he planted a small kiss on her abdomen.
"Dad, I don't want this."
"You should know what I didn't want," he said, placing his hands on both sides of her panties, and slipping them down her legs. Teresa just laid there, frozen, and had no idea what to do.
It was not until she realized what her father was about to when she found out that she had to escape: She was going to lose her virginity to her dad. Dads weren't supposed to do such things, dads were supposed to support their children when they needed it. Not the other way around.
She was fourteen, for god's sake!
She suddenly kicked around with her feet, swinging her arms around frantically, trying to escape.
She looked up, and saw her dad, grabbing his member out of his pants, and she felt tears running down her cheeks.
When he entered her, she saw stars.
An excruciating pain coursed through her body, ripping her lower body apart, and she cried.
What if she screamed? Maybe her brothers would hear her? But then she realized that they weren't at home, they were at school.
A million thoughts ran through her head, as her dad thrust in to her, every one more painful than the previous one. She had to get away from here, had to get him out of her body. Her body wasn't even supposed to do this, wasn't supposed to suffer from this.
He stroked her breasts, and Teresa was able to push his hands off of her. She closed her eyes, and she felt her dad coming inside of her. Teresa saw stars again, tears still streaming down her face.
Her dad pulled out of her, and laid down beside her, and, even though she struggled with all her might, managed to pull her in his arms. He placed small kisses on her forehead, tears now streaming down his face as well.
"I'm sorry, Tessie, I just miss your mother so much...," he whispered, in her ear, and Teresa felt like throwing up.
"I love you."
Teresa pushed herself out of his arms, and then ran into the bathroom, trying to wash away the awful feeling she now had. She felt dirty. And sad.
"Lisbon?" Jane asked, knocking on the door, which pulled Lisbon out of her thoughts. She felt her cheeks, and found that they were drenched. She couldn't say anything, didn't want to say anything. She just wanted Jane to leave her alone.
"How old were you?" Jane asked, and Lisbon's eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, from the way you reacted when you saw the girl I can see that you've experienced it as well. Knowing you for almost eight years now, I know nearly everything about you from the moment you left the police academy, so that means it was when you were a girl. When?" he asked, and Lisbon stood up. How could he be that right? She opened the door, and let Jane enter the bathroom. She closed the door behind him, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
He knelt down in front of her.
"I was fourteen."
"It was your dad, right?" Jane asked, and Lisbon looked at her lap. She nodded. Jane placed one of his hands on her knee.
"Tell me," he said, and she looked into his eyes. His bright, blue eyes, to which she could never say no.
She knew she couldn't keep shutting down when it became too personal. She knew she had to tell him one day, had to open up.
So she told him. Told him about how at first her dad 'just' hit her and her brothers. How her father finally missed her mother too much, and used Lisbon as some kind of replacement. Of course, he was drunk, but then again, he always was.
At the end of the story, she found she was looking at her lap again, but she looked up to see Jane's reaction. Disgust was clearly visible on his face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, and Lisbon swallowed.
"Because it's unprofessional and unethi-"
"No, really Lisbon, why didn't you tell me?" he asked, and a tear escaped her eyes.
"Because it still hurts," she said, and Jane nodded. He hugged her.
Lisbon knew that Jane would help her. Though she didn't always want it, she was certain she would get to deal with this. But for now, the hug with Jane was all that mattered.
A/N: So, what did you think? Let me know!
