A Car Crash for Lorelei
(After "Red Sails in the Sunset," S5,E8)
Who: Jane, Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby, Lorelei
What: The aftermath to Jane deliberately crashing the car into the tree
When: Tagged to end of "Red Sails in the Sunset" S5,E8
Where: Miranda's Roman's mountain cabin, hospital
Why: Picking up the pieces is hard to do
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding The Mentalist series, characters, etc.
Crashing the car freed Jane from suspicion in Lorelei Martins's escape from Federal prison. But every step closer to Red John imposed higher costs and greater risks. How long would Jane's luck hold?
Jane hyperventilated, heart pounding in fear of what he was about to do. Strapped into the passenger seat, he floored the gas pedal with a branch and jerked the car into gear. Hit the tree! Don't swerve. Just do i–
The crash was deafening. The airbag exploded, gas expanding at two-hundred mph. Jane's head snapped head back and he crashed against the seat. Air knocked out of him, Jane gasped trying to breathe. Loud! Can't hear. Pain. Chest hurts. Face numb. Agony–broken neck?
Steam hissed and billowed from the ruptured radiator. Vital fluids dripped, burning on the engine. Acrid smoke drifted across the clearing.
"Jane!"
Lisbon? He felt her fingers check his pulse and opened his eyes. Relief spread warmly.
"He's okay!" she said to someone out of sight.
Hope so. Jane groaned and mumbled, "Did you get her?"
"Not yet."
Jane rolled his head to the side, trying to escape the pain. Pain worse, bad idea. Hold still! "She's, uh, she's on foot." Promised to help Lorelei escape.
In the background, "Agent Kirkland, Homeland Security. I need rescue help..."
Not Cho. Not Rigsby. "Who is that guy?" Jane peered up at Lisbon, confused.
"Don't talk. Help is on the way," Lisbon said gently, rubbing his arm.
"Hurts." His smiled thanks faded instantly.
Help soon? Not soon enough...just hang on. God, at least I can move. Arrgh, don't move! Hurry up. Jane groaned in misery, breathing heavily.
"Shhhh. It's okay." Eyes dark with compassion, Lisbon quieted Jane, forcing herself to be calm to help him stay calm.
Who's talking? Jane opened his eyes again and realized emergency medics were now helping him. He struggled to follow instructions through a haze of pain. What does he want? Squeeze his hand. Where's Lisbon? Sedative? Jane's pain folded in on itself, receding to a distant point. It was still there, but too unimportant to notice. Don't feel. Sleep.
~.~.~.~
"Nothing," Cho reported. "Cabin hasn't been used in months. No sign of anyone in the forest."
Rigsby added, "We found this trickle charger. Maybe Martins had a vehicle after all."
"Wrap it up, then. Homeland Security is lead on Martins. They'll continue the search however they want. We have Jane so our part is over."
"How is Jane?" Rigsby asked nervously, glancing toward the stretcher.
"Injured. Good vital signs. Lucid. We won't know much till he gets to the hospital."
Cho stepped over and looked down at Jane. "How can he be lucid? He's unconscious."
Rigsby jabbed Cho in the arm to shut him up. He noticed Jane was missing a shoe. He got it from the wreck and dropped it on the stretcher, hoping Jane would need it sometime soon.
Lisbon's anxiety ratcheted up. To the nearest EMT, "Is he worse? He was conscious before."
The EMT glanced up. "We gave him a short-term sedative. Keeps him still. Spared him a lot of pain when we applied the neck brace and got him out of the car. He'll come to at the hospital."
Lisbon's worry eased fractionally. "Which hospital?"
"County General. Excellent trauma unit."
"Cho, Rigsby, hitch a ride back to Sacramento with Homeland Security. I'll take the car and follow Jane."
The ambulance pulled away. Lisbon spoke with Kirkland, handing off the operation. While they waited, Cho fished Jane's suit jacket out of the wrecked car and tossed it into CBI's SUV. Minor, but I can't do anything else to help.
"Call us when they know something?"
"Of course."
~.~.~.~
Jane slowly became aware of his surroundings. Damn. Hospital. He took stock before letting on he was conscious. I'm not paralyzed! Everything works. Chest hurts but not any worse when I breathe. No broken ribs. Ouch. My face is a mess. This neck brace is annoying. At least there's only a dull ache now. What the hell did I do? Whiplash? Broken neck? Did Lorelei get away? Lisbon will know. How soon can I talk my way out of here?
~.~.~.~
Hours later. "Agent Lisbon? I'm Dr. Cohen, lead physician treating your colleague, Agent Jane. He's doing well." The doctor looked down, leafing through a thick sheaf of diagnostic printouts. "He has Type I fractures to two cervical vertebrae." Lisbon paled, eyes huge. The doctor glanced up and started to apologize for scaring her, "I'm sorry–"
Sorry for terrible news? Her worst fear surfaced. "Paralysis?" she interrupted, barely louder than a whisper.
The doctor tried again. "He's doing well. I didn't mean to alarm you–"
Lisbon regrouped. "I apologize, doctor. He's a close friend and I'm concerned." Terrified.
"Your concern is well-placed. Cervical fractures can be devastating. Fortunately, not in this case. Two vertebrae have hairline fractures from the MVA. We finished a complete diagnostic work-up. The fractures are stable and there is no spinal cord involvement."
Cohen paused until Lisbon met his gaze. He repeated slowly, "No spinal cord injury. This is as good as it gets with any type of cervical fracture. He has no other internal injuries although a mild concussion isn't definitively ruled out. The facial bruising is extensive but not medically important. In short, he was very lucky."
"What, um, how are the fractures treated?"
"The neck-and-jaw brace will immobilize the site while the fractures heal over the next eight-to-twelve weeks. Later, he may need physical therapy to restore range of motion and strengthen the neck and shoulder muscles. The brace is critical until x-rays confirm the fractures have healed. I've referred him to a Sacramento specialist. He needs an appointment in the next day or two–and should follow instructions closely."
"The next day or two? When will he be discharged?"
"Well, actually he hasn't been admitted because in-patient care isn't medically necessary. The fractures are stable and there is no significant collateral injury. Mr. Jane is adamant about leaving if at all possible. I don't see a compelling reason to keep him."
Lisbon's jaw dropped, "Is that–is that standard care in cases like this?"
"'Cases like this' is misleading. Neck trauma is highly variable. It can be life-threatening and require intensive, complex treatment. It can also be serious but stable and limited, as in this case. The examination and work-up are complete. After several hours there are no signs of emerging problems. His condition is stable. The brace and a prescription are all that's needed. He can be released safely."
"If problems were to crop up, what should we look for? What should we do?"
"I don't expect problems. However, take him to a trauma center immediately should he experience acute neck pain or neurological symptoms such as loss of sensation, paralysis, syncope or fainting, unresponsiveness, or delirium. The written discharge instructions cover this information. If he has someone to accompany him, he can leave as soon as he's dressed. Someone needs to stay with him for at least 24 hours."
"I'll take responsibility for that. Thank you."
"He's dressing now. Nurse Chang will take you there."
~.~.~.~
Lisbon tapped the steel frame of the curtained divider. She was determined to be upbeat, low key. "You decent?"
"Hey, Lisbon. Come in." Jane's speech was muddy from the swelling and the brace. He was buttoning his vest, dressed except for shoes. Other than the brace, he looked almost normal from the left. He turned to face her. Dark bruises, swelling, and raw abrasions stretched from temple to jaw on his right side. He eyed his shoes, then awkwardly crouched to untie the laces. He stood, slipped them on, then crouched again to tie them by touch. Belatedly, Lisbon thought to help, but he already was done. "Shoelaces are a challenge," he commented lightly.
It felt surreal. A minute ago I was worried about paralysis and now we're discussing shoelaces. Cool it. A big emotional scene won't be helpful. She took a deep breath and said, "You came out of this better than I could have hoped a few hours ago."
Without irony, "I lucked out. My face aches and I'm sore. But my neck barely hurts with this brace." He turned his whole torso to look around. "Is my suit jacket here somewhere?"
"It's in the car." Intensely, "Jane, I know you hate hospitals, but are you sure you feel well enough to just, well, go home?" He should be hospitalized! This is crazy.
Firmly, "Yes. And the doctor okayed it."
"Without you conning him?"
"Yes." Plaintively, "All I want is tea and sleep. Please, Lisbon?"
Lisbon vowed she'd never let on how hard it was to refuse him when he asked that way. Sternly, "I'll help get you released. But only if you promise to tell me if you develop any symptoms. Otherwise, I don't want the responsibility."
"I do promise." He looked like he meant it. "Thank you." He gathered the paperwork. "Let's go."
Lisbon led the way. Jane limped a bit, beat up but basically sound, awkward in the newness of the brace. They got the prescription filled at the hospital pharmacy. The wait was short at the late hour.
Getting into the car was complicated because Jane could bend only from the waist. He was asleep before she pulled out of the hospital parking deck. His soft, even breathing reassured her. He really is going to be okay. Beat the odds again.
Lisbon called her team with the good news, then sagged tiredly in the driver's seat. Emotion washed over her. In the darkness she shed a few tears of relief, tears softly tapping as they struck her clothes. She made no other sound to avoid waking Jane. She needed privacy to come to terms with this latest round in the dangerous game they were playing against the serial killer.
Lisbon regained her composure, but the cold knot of fear didn't dissipate. She wasn't at all convinced the car crash that broke Jane's neck was accidental. The car crash meant no one would suspect Jane of breaking Lorelei Martins out of prison if he did, in fact, engineer it. But every bit of information bringing them closer to Red John required Jane to take ever-greater risks, pay an increasingly high price. How long can his luck hold?