Chapter One.
It was not often Patrick drank anything other than tea or water, let alone something alcoholic. For man whose commodity was his mind, it was detrimental to do anything to compromise that commodity. Every rule has an acceptation.
Stairs, white light, a sinking feeling in the stomach, scrawled words, light headedness, a door, blood, horror and their empty faces under a smile they could never show again.
Jane woke with a start, his chest pounded heavily and breath did not come easily past his lips, there was a fine sheen of sweat resting like a mist over his body and he could feel the uncomfortable track of one bead making a sticky track between his shoulder blades. He blinked once, eyes stinging with tears, he felt damp and wrung out all at once. It was always the same, the dream never changed, memories cannot change, the past is the past, always as frightening and heart-breaking as it was.
There is a saying that time heals all wounds. Wounds like his were never supposed to be healed, that was exactly the point.
It took a moment for the blonde to realise that he was still in the office on the couch he had had brought in for these very moments.
The team said nothing, they did not judge him when he fell asleep to the sound of phones and fax machines, and did not wake him when he slept through meetings. Jane was a serial insomniac, and they had all had the misfortune, on occasion, to see him waking from those nightmares, they had all glanced at the fear in his eyes and the seen the shame radiating from his body as he swung his feet to the floor. They had all pretended to see nothing, and when Patrick smiled widely, the sentiment crinkling his eyes in a charming fashion, and made some quip about the colour of Lisbon's shoes, or told them a strange fact about the stars , they all nodded along, and smiled back, because truly, not one of them knew how to help him, and each of them feared he would refuse anything they tried.
This was a place of work, of distraction. If the team attempted comfort, or friendships It broke the illusion.
The office was empty now, and dark Patrick realised. Everyone must have left for the day. The vividness of his nightmare should have alluded to that fact, usually the sounds of people working around him acted like a wave machine, kept him calm through sleep. Knowing everyone about him was moving meant that nothing bad could happen, in theory.
The day was over however, and the team must have decided to let him lie. The office was strangely eerie by night, a place usually always moving and full of life, dead and subdued. The streetlights flooded the room with a strange light, golden and disorientating, shadows gathered in corners of the rooms, and clung under desks and around chairs. Jane shook his head, feeling wraiths gather there too, in the corner of his mind. A great shadow was heavy on him, the nightmare had settled and wrapped its arms around his stomach and chest and heart and would not let go. He blinked a few times and cast a glance around. No one to distract him now. The blinking clock in the corner told him it was 11pm, he had been asleep four hours now, a record for the week. He stood and stretched, his back creaking from the position he had taken on the sofa. He would not sleep again tonight, he was sure of that.
Jane turned to cast a gaze over the city, the windows reflecting himself like a ghost on the skyline. He was like the city- they never slept, never rested. Always buzzing and busy and screaming and above all, waiting.
He took a moment to smooth out the line of his jacket and run his fingers softly through his hair and over his face. He considered for a moment simply staying in the office until morning, reading with endless pots of tea. Another glance to the lights before him told him otherwise, and he found his feet guiding him away from the bullring, down the stairs and out into the streets of Sacramento. He fingered his car keys in the pocket of his jacket, cold metal rubbing softly against the warm pads of his fingers, but decided otherwise, and followed his feet towards the outskirts of the city where the bars never closed and questions were never asked.
It was nearly two in the morning by the time Jane emerged from a bar named "Howard's" a small club with soft black leather seating and even softer Jazz playing in the background, the air had been hazy with smoke and the conversations low and amiable. Jane had taken a corner seat and ordered a scotch- when the barman had brought him the bottle saying he looked as though he would need it, he did not argue, simply leant back further in the booth and let the warm burn of the liquor across his tongue ground him.
Now however, three hours later and a hundred dollar bottle of whisky, Jane was far gone, and despite himself enjoying the buzz around the edges of his mind and his eyes. He smiled at the sight of the stars and the coolness of the air, he breathed heavily taking in the scent of the city, dirty and deep and warm, and he didn't begin to notice the sounds of the city, the jazz from the club, the shouts of men more drunk than he, and the strong revving of engines as two youths raced towards him in muscle cars.
Chapter Two.
Lisbon grumbled and frowned as her phone buzzed noisily on the nightstand, and he grabbed it with her eyes closed and her face screwed up,
"Hello" she managed, voice croaky from sleep
"Hello there, is this a ?" the voice asked. A woman, in her mid-forties and African American by the tone of her voice
"Yes, it is, who's this?" she asked, more awake now, eyes glancing at the nightstand as she spoke to confirm suspicions that it was only 4.30 in the morning.
"I am calling from Mercy General Hospital" the voice replied, and Teresa found herself fully awake now, alert, her heart picking up pace in her chest. "A Mr" there was a short pause as the nurse obviously looked on her clipboard for the name "Patrick Jane here, you were second name on his speed dial, we tried his wife, but the line was disconnected. If you could supply us with a way to contact her we would be very greatful"
Lisbon's stomach twisted for a moment, and her face fell stony.
"Shes…they are not together any longer" she spoke in the receiver, her voice strained and awkward "Please, is Jane ok…Patrick, is Patrick injured?" he corrected herself.
"Very well thank you for the information" the nurse continued frustratingly "Patrick has been in a hit and run incident, the ambulance was called out to his location early this morning, I am afraid he is in the intensive care unit, would you come and sign some forms for us as next of kin? Or please inform us of family that could do this for us?" the tone was matter of fact, the nurse did this every day, saw things like this every day.
Lisbon felt sick, her heart hammered against her chest. How the hell did this happen? What was Jane doing at that time in the morning. Her stomach knotted and when she spoke, she found her voice wavering despite herself.
"I'm his boss, he has no family. I'll be there in twenty minutes" she hung up, she had no time for hospital bureaucracy, and would flash her badge around if they attempted to tell her otherwise.
It was five minutes later when Lisbon was dressed and driving, she had called Cho and Cho had called the others in a round robin. She had coffee on her dash, but the call had already set her wide awake, her heart and her driving far too fast. It would be the same for any member of the team, at least, that's what she told herself.
It was twenty minutes since the call near to the dot when Lisbon strode into the waiting room at Mercy General hospital, flashed her badge but no smile and demanded to see Patrick Jane. It was against regulation, both hospital and CBI but she didn't have time to fill out forms, perks of the job.
When she was shown to his room, she discovered the rest of the team already there, and didn't bother asking how they had achieved it so quickly- Cho and Rigsby lived closer than she did, and both drove like the wind when they needed to. She wouldn't think about how Grace managed to get there- that would lead to allegations she had no time for right now.
They were not allowed into the room, but there was large glass windows and thin blinds shuttering them ineffectively. Lisbon didn't need to look to know it was bad, the look on Grace's face as she approached said it all. Even Cho had a small frown between his brows. They nodded as she approached, and Rigsby said "hey boss" his voice low and quiet. Lisbon gave a thin smile to them all before peaking in.
Jane looked awful, dark circles rounded his eyes and one was swollen shut completely, his wrist, ribs and knee were heavily bandaged and bruises peppered his entire body. He had obviously bounced when he was hit. The worst was his head, a square of bandage was covering the place just above his right ear between his ear and eye, the hair had been shaved back there almost to his crown, and Lisbon couldn't help but begrudge that. The bandage was almost as large as her palm, and stained deep ruby red. She closed her eyes for a moment and looked away, swallowing heavily against rising panic, before turning back to the others.
"Has anyone spoken to a dr?" she asked, knowing the others probably all flashed their badges too. So many people wouldn't normally be allowed into the unit at all.
Cho nodded, ever stoic, he repeated to his boss what the Dr had told him when he had arrived, first on the scene so to speak.
"He was hit just outside of the city centre, near the latin quarter, they estimate it was 40 minutes before someone called an ambulance and another thirty before the ambulance arrived. Four broken ribs, three cracked, the knee and wrist are fractured heavily, cracked collarbone, no internal bleeding as yet. Fractured skull."
Cho rattled off the details as they would at a crime scene, keep distance. He swallowed hard when he finished, the only indication that he was worried.
"He's been unconscious since then" Rigsby finished, his hand resting in the palm of Grace's back as her lip quivered softly and her eyes found the floor.
"Ok" was all Lisbon could manage in return for a moment, her eyes flitting back to Jane's form for a moment.
She wasn't used to this, Jane was always perfect, hair and suit, no matter how often he slept on them he would wake looking like a catalogue model, smiling widely and making fun of the team. He was full of pain, always, his eyes always twinkled to cover the sign of grief in their depths, but this? Bruises and lacerations. It was wrong. They'd all been shot at, all suffered bruises on the job, or scrapes from climbing fences; not Jane, he was all talk no action and that was how it was supposed to be.
"Ok" she managed again, her voice lower.
"This is crap" the statement from Cho was angry and strange from his lips, and the team all turned in surprise to look at him, unused to sentiment. "We are supposed to help people, and we cant do a damn thing." his eyes raising to the others for a moment before looking almost sheepish "its crap" he finished a little lamely.
It was a week before anyone was allowed in to see Jane, and another until he even begun to heal, and look anything like his old self. Another week and the doctors told them he might not wake up. Lisbon had punched a suspect that day. Cho and Rigsby said nothing, none of them needed suspension, they had to keep busy, and without Jane, that was easier than ever.
It was a month almost to the day that Jane had been hit when Lisbon's phone rang, seeing the number of Jane's doctor flashing on the screen of her mobile phone made her stomach twist and turn, her face must have reflected it because Cho was on his feet, and Grace grabbed Rigsby's hand. She took a breath before answering it, the conversation was less than ten seconds and she hung up quickly. "Boss…" Cho asked, the words the doctor had said could be one of two things.
He's dead
Or
"He's awake" Lisbon said, a smile curling her lips and a weight lifting from the entire room as the others breathed a sigh of relief.
Hightower granted them all permission to go and visit the hospital immediately on the assurance that they would be back to work tomorrow without distractions.
Chapter 3
The doctor stopped the team when they reached the hospital and told them in no uncertain terms that they could only visit him one at a time, and that those visits must be brief, he was still healing and under a lot of stress. It was only now that they would be able to tell the full extent of his damage. Apparently the first thing he had asked for was a cup of tea.
Lisbon was nominated as the best to enter first, and she didn't argue.
Jane looked like hell, to be honest, but at least he was awake. His eye was fully healed, but his bones would only mend properly when he was able to put weight on them.
Lisbon pushed open the door slowly, with what she hoped was an encouraging smile, it made her heart jump to see Jane's head turn slowly to face her, a smile on his own lips broadening as she approached.
"Hey there sleeping beauty" she said softly then laughed "I never thought I'd be calling you that" a small expression of confusion passed over Jane's face, but it seemed to pass quickly enough.
"Hey" he said, his own voice small and scratchy in a way that made Teresa's heart ache a little.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer
"Better, now you're here at least" he said, his smile widening a little more, and oddly his hand reaching out towards her. She took it without a thought, his palm was soft and warm. She pulled a chair to sit near the bed so as he could continue to hold her hand. She wondered if he was making fun of her, it would only be right, but decided to humour him at least for the time being.
"Those drugs you are making you high" she observed in an attempt to break the ice a little more
"a little" he admitted.
He squeezed her hand and looked at it for a long moment before bringing it to his lips, chapped as they were with sickness, and pressed a small kiss to her skin. It tingled and made her brows furrow over her eyes. She wanted to break the ice, Jane seemed adamant to melt it.
"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice a little strained.
Jane looked up and nodded, "Just happy to see you" he said "Where's charlotte?" he asked then, something that made Lisbon want to pull her hand away.
"Who?" she managed to get out after a moment, a question that made Jane's expression twist for a moment.
"come' on" he said, his voice keeping light through restraint "I've been out for four weeks, don't kid around, I bet she's grown already…or I guess it's a school day? I lost track" he said looking down towards his lap for a moment.
"Ja..Patrick" Lisbon started "I have to talk to your doctor, just for a moment, I'll…I'll be back ok?" she said, panic starting to show in her voice. He would know, of course, he's too clever, always too clever.
She near fled the room, and when Jane seemed reluctant to let go of her hand and gave such a sentimental squeeze, she felt nausea rising from her stomach and resting heavy in the back of her throat.
Lisbon near raced into the waiting room, and the others rose, they didn't need to be a mentalist to see that the look on her face told of fear, panic. She said nothing, only cast an eye around the room, then down the ward and heading in the direction she glimpsed Dr Fields.
It was half an hour later when the Dr had time to sit down in his office with the whole team and explain things to them.
"It is possible" he started "that due to his head injury, Patrick will have suffered some memory loss and be a little confused over things now and then. It might go away over time, or it may be that he never recovers certain memories. We have not, until today been able to talk to Jane and really begin to understand the extent of his damage. He knows for certain the presidents, what year it is, and many other facts, he is obviously sound of mind in trivial matters. You tell me however that you think he believes you, Agent Lisbon, to be his late wife, and he asks for his daughter, who is also deceased?"
Lisbon could only nod and blink against the tears threatening to rise.
"That is very difficult, as I say, it is likely to only last a short time. I would ask, at this moment that you do not reveal to Mr Jane the true nature of his family's death, it could cause a strain that might make him very ill."
"are you asking me to pretend to be his dead wife?" Lisbon asked with alarm. She felt Cho put a warning hand on her wrist, grounding her a little.
"No, no, by all means, but perhaps indulge him a little. You are friends as well as colleges as I understand it, show him compassion until he regains his memory, or at least until we know more. Whether you tell him he is mistaken is up to you, I cannot and will not give advice on such matters, I can however refer you to the hospitals physiatric department if you so wish"
"no!" Lisbon replied quickly, before checking herself, "no, thank you doctor, we'll…take care of it" she said softly, before pushing herself to her feet and spinning on her heels to exit.
Cho found her first.
Teresa had made her way to the roof somehow, but was glad of the air. She lent against an air conditioning unit in the sun breathing for a moment.
"Boss?" Cho asked, his face stony once more, as he made his way towards the brunette.
"What do I do?" she asked him honestly, her face open, rife with confusion and irritation.
"Surely he'll work it out, he's too clever"
"Seems to me like it doesn't matter" Kimball stated flatly, he was greeted with a raised eyebrow and a soft snort of confusion.
"Doesn't matter who you are, right now he's in pain and needs someone to look after him, that's all that matters." He finished. Always to the point, always hits the nail on the head.
"Or you could just let him suffer through it all on his own" he shrugged before turning to walk back towards the fire exit that let out onto the roof. "I'll let the others know I found you" he said to the wind, before disappearing down the grey flight of stairs.
Cho was a lot more clever and observant than people gave him credit for, she hated him a little for it.
It was half an hour later still when Teresa Lisbon worked up the courage to re-enter the hospital room of her friend and colleague. She had stood on the roof out in the elements, trying for a long time to decide what to say to Jane, what to do, in the end she decided that action spoke louder than words, and she would never think of a thing up here. She took a deep breath before entering, and stood in the door way for a moment as he looked up. His face was drawn and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair was just beginning to grow back onto the section that had been shaved and plastered the night of the accident. He looked worried, and lost. Again, she felt that strange place within her twist, and her own face melted into worry lines as she bit softly on her lip. She crossed the room quickly, and fell easily to her knees at his bedside, taking both of his hands in her own and smiling weakly as she allowed her eyes to meet his.
It was hard to get here, difficult to enter the room, tough to know how to proceed, easy however to kiss him. So easy.
She would think of the rest later, for now all that mattered was the soft sigh from Jane's lips and the feel of his hands squeezing hers like a life line.