Disclaimer: We own absolutely nothing
A/N Nerwen Aldarion: Well this is a record, a new chapter the day after posting the first! Well I did say that we had most of it written already didn't I? I'd like to thank each and every person who reviewed this story. I was so nervous when I posted this because it is so different than anything else I'd ever done, I was afraid people wouldn't want to read it. I'm so glad I was wrong. I love you guys so much so this one is for you!
A/N Tinuviel Undomiel: We do indeed love reviews and I'm glad you're all enjoying this. Angst is a big seller it looks like. Don't worry, it won't all be angst. But this chapter is chock full of it since now you get to see just what happened to Lisbon. It isn't pretty.
Chapter 2: Aftermath
Lisbon's team followed the ambulance to the hospital. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt had all rushed outside as soon as Brenda had found them but they only got to see Lisbon being loaded up into the ambulance. They hadn't gotten a good look. They didn't know the full extent of the damage Lisbon's attacker had wrought.
But Jane did.
He rushed into the hospital ready to find out where Lisbon was being treated. A friendly looking nurse looked at him from behind the desk. Her eyes were wide and troubled when she asked, "Sir, are you all right? Do you need to see a doctor?"
It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about. His clothes were covered in blood, but none of it was his.
Jane shook his head, "No, I'm fine…I uh, brought my friend in."
She understood and gave him a slow nod. Before he could ask where she was, the three other members of the team burst in through the door.
"Jane!" They all exclaimed at once.
"What happened?" Rigsby asked, "Shettrick said she was hurt."
He just shook his head. "She was attacked. I found her in the parking lot."
"Did she say who did this?" Cho inquired.
"No, she wasn't in any kind of state to." That was an understatement. Jane had never seen Lisbon in a delirious state of shock before; it was a side of her that he hoped he never had the misfortune of seeing again.
"How did this happen?" Grace asked; her voice was heavy with emotion.
None of them knew the answer to that, least of all Jane. Lisbon had always been a pillar of strength and power. She was the indestructible one. It was unbelievable that she would be reduced to this, that someone could actually hurt her.
That didn't matter now though.
Jane ignored the question and stepped over to the same woman who he had spoken to before his friends had come in. "Excuse me, we're here for Teresa Lisbon."
The woman nodded, "I can check on her status." A few taps on the keys and she was pulling up a digital file on their friend. "She's been checked in and her injuries are being assessed. As soon as that's over they will let the Forensic Nurse do her job."
"We're with the CBI." Cho stepped forward and flashed his badge. "We need to get her statement on what happened to her tonight." Jane knew that was not necessarily the case but what was the use of a badge if you couldn't use it for your own ends sometimes.
"I'll let you know when you can see her."
Now all they could do was wait. At the moment that was probably the hardest thing they could do. The minutes ticked away slowly. Rigsby was the only one not sitting down; he kept pacing by their seats. The other people in the waiting room watched the four of them with curious eyes. Their gaze fell to Jane more often though, no doubt wondering where the blood on his clothes had come from.
Their waiting was interrupted when Wainwright entered the room. "Have they said anything?"
Cho shook his head. "We're still waiting for a report."
Wainwright sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "This is a nightmare." That really was an apt description of what had happened. He kept his gaze steady with the whole team. "Protocol says that you need to stay far away from this investigation." All four of them tensed immediately at his words but he held up a hand to stop them. "But I know that none of you are going to listen. So I'm pulling in some strings. Agent Cho, you'll take the lead on this case. I know you will do all you can to find this man.
"The scene is secure, but no one is touching anything until you get there. Talk to Agent Lisbon, get her statement and then process the scene. Everyone wants this guy caught and off the streets as soon as possible."
It was the one bit of good news they had heard yet. At least this time they wouldn't have to stoop down to subterfuge to get a case done. Rules wouldn't have stopped them but it definitely helped being able to use the full force of the law instead of having to work around it.
Wainwright glanced down at his phone. "I have to get back. Bertram is taking a beating with the press and guests at the fundraiser are scared. But call me when you have something, I want to know Lisbon's condition as soon as possible."
Then he was gone. That was fine; this was a family matter anyways.
It must have been at least another hour before a doctor walked in and spoke to the nurse behind the desk. She pointed towards their little group and they all knew immediately that answers were finally coming.
"You're here about Ms. Lisbon?"
"Yes we are," Cho said.
The doctor nodded. "Well she's awake and lucid. We're going to run an MRI to be sure, but I don't think her head injuries are too severe though she does have a moderate concussion. Her wrist was broken and she'll need stitches on her arm and her head but all in all she was very lucky."
That was not a word Jane would ever attribute to something like this.
"Can we see her?" Grace asked quickly.
"She's on the third floor," the doctor replied, "room 311, but I should warn you, she doesn't look like herself."
That was all they needed. It was a mad dash to the elevator and an impatient wait for it to reach the third floor before they scrambled down the hallway. Lisbon was in a private room, away from the floor desk.
She looked up as soon as she heard the door open and she gave them a very small trembling smile.
It was a hard sight to see.
The dried blood had been cleaned off but her face and neck were mottled with red and purple bruises. Her eye was swollen shut now and her hair hung limp around her. Her left arm was wrapped tightly in a thick layer of bandages; a cast would be put on later. Jane could hear the sharp intake of breath from his companions. They knew what they would see but it still didn't prepare them for the reality. It took everything Jane had not to lose it himself.
"It…it was an interesting party," Lisbon spoke, breaking the silence with her dry quip. She was trying set the tone; to make them all know she was fine. She wasn't fooling Jane.
None of them laughed but they did relax just a bit. "Yeah it was," Rigsby replied softly.
Cho focused his gaze on her. "Can you tell us what happened?"
Lisbon let out a long sigh and closed her good eye. "Um I went outside to get some air. Someone came up behind me, I…I was taken by surprise."
"Did you recognize him?"
She shook her head. "It was dark, I never got a look at his face. But he was tall, white, short hair. Ummm he was wearing dark pants and a white shirt…a bow tie, I remember feeling a bow tie." Lisbon drew in a shaky breath. "I fought him, I know I scratched him. I know I did that."
"Did he say anything?"
"No," Lisbon said. A tear slipped from her eye and began a solitary tract down her cheek. "He never said a word."
Rigsby stepped forward. "We'll find him boss." He put a hand on her shoulder and Lisbon flinched. Her body became rigid and tense. She nodded, scooting forward so that Rigsby had to pull his hand away.
Jane never took his eyes off of her.
"I'll be okay," Lisbon told them calmly, "really. This is a good hospital and I've been through worse."
That was a lie.
But the rest of the team accepted it, they wanted to believe what she was saying, that it was a lot simpler than it really was. "We're going to process the scene," Cho said, "We'll come back tomorrow to get your official statement."
"Okay." None of them moved for a long moment so she smiled once more. "I'll be fine. You can go, now."
Jane was still keeping his gaze focused on her.
Cho was the first to file out of the room. Rigsby and Grace followed him. Jane still watched her and Lisbon's smile fell slowly when he refused to look away. He left the room after the rest of the team but they were just standing outside, he closed the door.
"Van Pelt," Cho began, "stay here with Lisbon. Bring the evidence that the Forensic Nurse collects to the CBI. Call us if anything changes."
"Of course." Grace was happy to take over that duty, she was more than willing to watch over their boss and friend.
"We'll head over to process the scene now," Cho continued, "we'll update you when we have something."
Rigsby and Cho turned to do just that but Jane didn't move with them. "I'll catch up with you," Jane told them. They didn't question him; no one questioned Jane's motives much on anything anymore.
That was two, one more.
He smiled softly at Grace. "I think Lisbon would like some coffee, it would probably do her some good, and you too."
Grace studied him for a moment but chose, like the others, to keep her questions to herself. "All right."
Jane waited until she was gone before reentering Lisbon's room.
She didn't look surprised to see him come in again; she met his eyes only briefly though and tried to smile. "I'm fine, Jane, really."
He didn't say anything but focused his gaze on her once more. His face was grave; he wanted her to know that lies weren't going to work.
Lisbon shrugged and tried again. "It looks worse than it is."
"Oh we both know that isn't true."
The full meaning of his words hit her quickly. Her fake smile and cheerful look fell away to fear and shame. She couldn't look at him anymore; she focused on a spot on the wall beside him. "I'll be fine."
"No," Jane replied, his voice was hard and firm, "not like this."
Another tear fell down her cheek and she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it, Jane."
It didn't matter what she wanted, this was about what she needed. "I know what happened, Lisbon." She still didn't look at him, even when he stepped closer so he was standing by her bed. "You have to tell them the truth." She shook her head again. "No, Lisbon, you cannot hide this from them. They will find out, you know this isn't something you can keep quiet." He stopped for a moment, hesitant to actually say the words. He didn't want to push her, not when she was already in so much pain. But he had to.
"If you don't say something, I will," Jane said firmly, "this is not something I will keep to myself."
Lisbon met his gaze once more. He could see it. She was afraid and hurt but most of all she was ashamed. Ashamed that this had happened to her, that she had been caught off guard and abused so terribly. She was a cop.
She wasn't supposed to be the victim.
He hoped that she could see the truth in his eyes. That keeping this to herself would only hurt her more. She needed to let them know everything so that they could find the man who did this. She didn't want to be one of the many who kept silent; those women only caused themselves even more pain in the end, even if they never spoke of it.
The silence that stretched between them was interrupted by the Forensic Nurse coming in. "Oh," the older woman with a kind face and salt and pepper hair said, "I'm sorry, should I come back later."
"No," Jane told her, "I was just leaving."
The nurse smiled and stepped into the room. "I'm Wendy and I understand that you are an officer so I'm sure you know what's going to happen." Lisbon nodded slowly but the woman still explained. "I'll take some pictures and collect your clothing for evidence."
Jane was still standing in the doorway, still watching her with his focused eyes. Wendy stepped over to the table where Lisbon's clothing had been set aside after she had been put in the hospital gown. "I see only one shoe."
"I uh…lost it, it's still at the scene." Lisbon explained.
Wendy nodded and continued the inventory, placing the shoe in an evidence bag and carefully folding Lisbon's now ruined dress into another larger one. She froze and turned back to Lisbon. "I don't see any underwear. I have a bra but no underwear."
Lisbon began to tremble and she wiped away the tears that fell slowly. Wendy was not unobservant. She walked over slowly but decided not to touch Lisbon. Instead she asked very softly, "Do I need to get a SAFE kit, dear?"
There was a long moment of silence. Lisbon wasn't looking at Wendy. She was looking at Jane.
He waited calmly for her answer.
Finally Lisbon nodded slowly and simply whispered, "Yes."
Jane didn't smile but he hoped she knew that he was proud of her. Instead he just nodded his head in return and backed out of the room.
He swallowed hard as he made his way down the hallway and into the elevator. He had the vessel all to himself, which was something he was grateful for. Jane ran a shaky hand through his hair and used these few moments to try and compose himself.
He'd known.
He'd known as soon as he saw her what had happened. But to have her finally say the words just made it all real. Over the years he had the fear that Lisbon would be harmed, but it was always at the hands of Red John. He never imagined that someone else would hurt her like this.
He never thought she would be raped.
It was after midnight, but Capitol Plaza was still lit up when Jane pulled into the parking lot. Squad cars were everywhere, casting blue and red shadows over the other parked cars and people. Yellow crime scene tape sectioned off pieces of the lot to show where sanctioned officials could enter and where guests and press could stay the hell out of. Jane had to flash his CBI I.D. to an officer in order to be allowed past the security.
On the steps of the Plaza, Bertram was surrounded by an army of reporters scribbling down his statement and flashing pictures. There was very little he could actually say, only that an agent was attacked and they are confident that the perpetrator would be caught. He didn't know many details, especially not the most important one.
Jane ducked under the tape and walked towards where the forensics guys were photographing the sidewalk. Lisbon's blood was now being numbered, photographed and forever imprinted into a case file.
"Look, we already gave our statement," a man said in a strained voice. Jane looked and saw that Rigsby was standing beside a silver Jaguar. The man was in his mid forties with a scantily clad date, likely his trophy for the evening. He had the lady's arm linked through his while his free hand held his car keys. "We don't know anything about what happened. Can we please just get our car and go?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but everything beyond this tape is considered a part of the crime scene," Rigsby said. The hand that was clenched around the flashlight suggested that Rigsby was not in the mood to argue.
"We paid to come to this function," the man said, "we gave your Bureau our donation, is this the thanks we receive for it?"
"Sir, I need you to leave now."
"For the love of God, it's not like anyone was murdered."
Jane saw the flashlight quiver in Rigsby's grip. Even in the unreliable light of the streetlamps, he could see Rigsby's patient look turn into one of outrage. He turned the light to the silver Jaguar, fixing it on the smear of blood on the hood where Lisbon must have used to steady herself. "Do you see that? That's my friend's blood. She was attacked not far from here while you were drinking and dancing. Your car is evidence now, so just call a damn cab and get the hell out of here."
Jane couldn't have said it better himself.
The man let out a scoffing sound and tugged his date away, muttering something about talking to Rigsby's superior about this. This guy had no idea that in a case like this the superior wouldn't give a damn about his hurt feelings.
"Hey," Rigsby said when he saw him, "How's she doing?"
"As well as can be expected," Jane said. Not well at all was what that meant.
"Jane," Cho called out and Jane saw that he was a few yards ahead of Rigsby. "Is this where you found her?"
Jane's feet felt leaden as he forced himself to walk the several paces to Cho's location. He stood in the exact spot he was before when he'd seen Lisbon's battered form stumbling away from him. He nodded. "She was right there." He pointed to a spot Cho had marked up where blood stained the blacktop. "I called her name and when she turned around she told me she was trying to find her car." He looked away from the blood, staring at the streetlights instead. "She was in shock. She had no idea what she was doing."
Cho nodded and then gestured to his right. "She came from that way. We're still following the blood, but it will take a while since we have to mark and process every drop."
Patience wasn't something Jane was known for. Let the forensics boys do that job. He was going to find where it all happened a lot faster than them.
He turned around and headed back towards the front of the building. "Jane?" Cho called after him, "Jane, where are you going?"
He didn't answer. He knew they would follow him so there wasn't any need for a response. Jane lifted the tape and threw it over his head as he made his way towards the stairs. He veered right of the crowd, hoping they would be too busy being nosy and irritating to notice him.
"Ah, and there is man who found her," Bertram said, "Our consultant, Mr. Patrick Jane. Jane, can you comment on what happened?"
He just bounded past him, ignoring the inquiries of the man-eating reporters and the demands of the buffoon of a director. He opened the door and stepped back into the foyer. Here was where the lingering guests were being questioned by security and other CBI agents. Lisbon's team was heading her case, but it was a joint investigation with all of the units at the moment.
Jane maneuvered around the onlookers and entered the ballroom. The band was gone and the cleaning had yet to begin so the tables were still cluttered with dishes and champagne flutes. He stopped in the middle of the floor where he had been with Lisbon only a few hours ago.
"Jane, what are you doing?" Rigsby asked while both he and Cho stopped just a few feet short of him.
"I'm retracing her steps," Jane explained. He put one finger to his lips as he thought back to that dance. It had just been a spur of the moment decision of his. He knew she wanted to dance and he hadn't had any objections. But this dance had been different from the one before at that high school reunion. For some reason this had been far more intimate. She had felt that shift in the wind.
"We danced," he said to his teammates. He remembered that when the song had ended Lisbon had been blushing, her breaths quick and short. She had stepped away from him and looked towards the exit, her escape. "She said she wanted to get some air."
Jane took the same path Lisbon had, leaving the ballroom through a side exit. Now he was back outside with a perfect view of the lower floor of the ballroom through the window. She probably stood right here and looked inside, trying to sort out her thoughts. Lisbon was the kind of woman who feared emotions she couldn't control. She would have come out here to collect herself and then return to the fray.
"She was alone here," he said, "She didn't have a gun and she was caught off guard. He saw this. He used this to his advantage."
There was a shiny, dark spot on the red brick wall. Jane looked closer and nodded. "It started here." He pointed to the spot of blood with one strand of dark brown hair glued to it. "He slammed her head up against the wall to stun her."
A few leaves from the bush had been pulled free of their branches and lay on the grass. He could see some of the grass was bent over or even pulled free from the earth. "She fell and he dragged her this way."
"Jane, we have to mark this," Rigsby said, but Jane kept walking. "Jane!"
"He had her subdued," Jane continued, "She couldn't fight him much." The squashed grass ended at the sidewalk, but the recent rain had left the ground moist and easily attachable to anyone who stepped in it. He could see the uneven dirt trail left by the bastard's footprints and Lisbon's heels.
"He stopped here," Jane pointed to the spot. "She started to struggle." There was some scuffed green residue left from one of Lisbon's shoes on the concrete and a tuft of her brown hair torn from the roots. "He must have subdued her again."
Jane felt cold as he stood in the same spot Lisbon's attacker had been. But it had to be done. He forced himself to take the mind of this brutal man and scan the horizon for his perfect spot. It only took a moment and then he pointed. "This way."
He stepped off the sidewalk and saw one of Lisbon's green heels was tucked against the curb. "Rigsby, Cho, it's her shoe."
The two men knelt down and Rigsby put a yellow marker next to it. They had obviously decided to hold off on pictures until Jane was done. Jane continued down around the Plaza until he was in the alley between that back of the kitchens and the Italian restaurant next door.
He stood at the mouth of the alley and took it all in. There was a green dumpster next to one wall. Broken beer bottles, crushed soda cans and other filth was scattered throughout the sidewalk. But now the crown jewel of this crap pile was the blood that was smeared all over the concrete.
"It happened here," Jane said. He didn't say it to Rigsby and Cho; they had eyes and could see for themselves. His words were just meant to fully ingrain the spot in his mind. Now when he closed his eyes, this horrible little place would join the many pieces of Hell that haunted his nightmares.
"Good Lord," Rigsby said in a gasp.
Cho surveyed the scene with his own critical eyes, searching out the little details he would need for his report. "She fought," he said, "She fought hard."
Jane nodded. He stepped towards the blood, kneeling down so he could get a closer look. "He slammed her head on the ground several times. He knew she would fight with everything she had so he had to make her submit."
"Do you think she was unconscious?" Rigsby asked. He actually sounded hopeful that maybe she had been in a merciful sleep while the man pounded on her.
Jane shook his head. "He wanted her to be aware of what was going on. This was personal."
Cho and Rigsby started laying out markers and making notes. Jane just stared at the sticky blood. It seemed like a lot, but he knew most of it had been smeared during her struggles. She had tried, she had tried but he had been too powerful. It shattered his heart knowing that Lisbon had stayed here in this alley, helpless and alone as she endured the ultimate suffering.
"I think this is part of her dress," Cho said. That brought Jane back into the world.
He stood up and glanced around the alley again for more clues. Perhaps a cufflink, a torn sleeve, a wallet if Lisbon's God was merciful.
He wasn't.
There, tucked next to the dumpster on the wall next to the Plaza was another scrap of fabric. Jane felt his blood freeze in his veins. His hands prickled as if touched by ice. But he was compelled to move forward until he stood over this terrible thing.
The panties were black satin with a lace edge to them. Some of the lace had been plucked from the stitches and worked as a sort of ragged tail. One side of the panties had been torn straight through, making them much easier to remove.
Jane was certain his face was white and he could feel his whole body shaking. He had known when he had seen her that this had happened, but to see this undeniable piece of evidence made it feel completely fresh. Here, in this dirty patch of unholy ground, Lisbon had been raped.
A part of Jane wanted pick the panties up and shove them into his pocket. They were never there. It never happened. She was only beaten by some enraged lunatic, nothing more. But this fantasy could never come true.
Lisbon had shown her courage and admitted her violation to the Forensic Nurse. Even if he spared her this small bit of dignity, the others would learn of the truth. He had meant what he had said; he couldn't keep this to himself.
But he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'rape' to them. His throat sealed that evil word, refusing to let it be born.
"Rigsby," he said, his voice flat and completely colorless. A part of him had just died and his voice showed it. "You'll have to bag this."
"What?" Rigsby said from behind him. Jane kept his eyes on the evidence. He couldn't look away.
Rigsby's feet shuffled up behind him and then stopped. He took in a sharp breath, but it never came out of his chest. Cho came up on Jane's other side and peered down as well. He seemed to have stop breathing entirely.
"Are those her…?" Rigsby couldn't bear to finish it.
Jane nodded.
"No," Rigsby whispered, "God, no."
The three of them just stared down at the panties in silence. That torn piece of fabric spoke volumes to them. It whispered how much she had suffered and screamed out the agony she was still in. It told them that this wasn't over, that it might never be over.
Cho finally turned away. He took three steps forward and then slammed his fist into the side of the dumpster, the metal gonged out in protest. Jane and Rigsby could only stand there. There was nothing they could do for him.
"Should—should we call the hospital?" Rigsby asked.
Jane shook his head. "They already know." Now he saw Cho was rubbing the back of his hand, flexing the sore fingers. "How's your hand?"
"It's fine."
"You should get that checked out."
"I'm fine."
Jane didn't want to argue with him. He knew Rigsby would make sure he attended to the injury. Besides, it was likely nothing more than badly bruised knuckles. Jane wanted to care more, he really did, but everything felt numb to him. His body was functioning normally, but his mind was partly shut down. He could only think in small, simple thoughts. He just didn't want to imagine Lisbon's torment.
Jane walked back to the blood smears, now marked by his teammates. "She fought him so she would have left some marks. Scratched his face and arms no doubt. His clothes would be torn and bloody."
"Jane," Rigsby said, "Your clothes."
"Hmm?"
"They're evidence."
Jane glanced down at his rented tux. The white shirt was badly stained with Lisbon's blood, from the collar down to the belt. Even the black jacket had the smell of iron now. "Oh," he said, his voice still hollow and dead, "I'll change and give them to you later."
Rigsby gave him a tiny nod. Their emotions were so thin and stretched it felt painful just to even feel. For a man who tried to control his emotions like he did, it made Jane feel raw. He needed to leave this place. It would break him completely if he stayed.
"You should get the forensics guys here," Jane said, "We'll need this evidence."
"I'll call them," Rigsby said.
Jane gave him a jerky nod and the turned around to flee. He didn't go back the way they came, instead he went down the untouched end of the alley and went down a set of concrete stairs. There was a widely branched tree, expertly pruned and standing alone. Jane collapsed at its base, setting his back up against the trunk.
His hands were shaking again and he couldn't breath. He tried and tried, but the air wouldn't come. He could feel his eyes getting hot with unshed tears. Jane gave up the fight and let them roll down his cheeks in rivers. He didn't sob, just sucked in heavy bouts of air and let them fall from his eyes quietly.
In this place he would let himself unravel. But she wouldn't see him like this. Now he was the one that needed to be strong.
Lisbon couldn't remember anything more humiliating than being examined by the Forensic Nurse. She knew about the exam, she'd read about it when she'd worked cases in San Francisco. It had just been another part of the case, a way to collect evidence; she never had to watch someone go through it…certainly never thought she would have to live through one herself.
First she'd had to give a detailed account of the attack, especially where she'd been assaulted. Lisbon hadn't been able to look the woman in the eye as she recited what had happened. Punched in the stomach and across the face. Head slammed into the wall and concrete. Bitten on her shoulder, licked on her face. Vaginally raped. No, he didn't have a condom.
She'd lain there and let them take the photographs, zooming in on the cuts on her arm, face and head, her swollen eye and broken wrist. It was just like when they photographed the body at a crime scene, except she was a living breathing person. She endured having her fingernails clipped and scraped for DNA, her cuts swabbed for blood and skin samples.
The worst part was having to lie back and open her legs for the pelvic exam. She hadn't been able to stop herself from shaking and tears had escaped her eyes. The Forensic Nurse had been as quiet and discreet as she could be, even as she'd swabbed for semen and combed for pubic hairs.
Then had come a long talk about the STI's, HIV, and the risk of pregnancy. She'd been given a cocktail of pills, prophylaxis and other pills to help prevent her from contracting an STD. But she would have to take a blood test later to be sure. And of course there was the morning-after pill.
Wendy had written a detailed record of the examination and then smiled reassuringly at Lisbon before finally leaving her alone. The whole exam had taken a long time. Somehow Lisbon felt even more exposed now though, she felt like she had been violated all over again.
She closed her eyes and kept them shut. She wasn't sleeping; there was no way she would be able to sleep, maybe never again. Keeping her eyes shut meant she could pretend that she wasn't lying in the hospital, that she wasn't just given a sexual assault exam, that she hadn't been raped. This was all just a horrible nightmare, she would wake up soon and everything would be better.
A lie sounded so much better than the truth.
Her eyes were still closed when she heard footsteps coming to her doorway. She didn't want to see anyone, especially not her team. They would know what happened, they would find out, if not from Jane then from the hospital. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, then they would go away. She wanted to keep pretending that this wasn't real.
"Is this her?" She heard an unfamiliar woman whisper.
"Yes, we need to bring her down to get an MRI," another woman replied. "So should we wake her up?"
"And have her walk down to get an MRI? Look at her, go get her a wheelchair."
Now she heard one set of footsteps hurrying away, the other woman was staying, she must have been the superior nurse or something like that. "Poor little dear," she whispered and picked up the chart. "Well, Lavinia, I certainly hope they find him soon."
"Who is Lavinia?" Lisbon couldn't help but ask. She opened her eyes to see an older blonde woman looking shocked.
"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep," The nurse said, her nametag read Helen. "We need to take you to the MRI, dear."
"My name is Teresa," Lisbon told her, "Who is Lavinia?"
Helen blushed a little, clearly embarrassed that she had been caught talking. "My husband is an English professor, sometimes our worlds collide a little." Lisbon wanted to say more but was stopped when a much younger woman in scrubs came up with a wheelchair. "Teresa, this is Amy. She's going to be the one that will take you down to get an MRI."
The older woman was quick to help her get out of the bed and settled into the wheelchair. Lisbon hated being treated like an invalid but her injuries did hurt her a lot, she hadn't relished the pain of walking. But she hated being dependent too.
Amy must have been an intern because she was trying very hard to start up a conversation but Lisbon remained silent. She couldn't stop thinking about what the two nurses had been saying.
They had known what happened to her, which was obvious. That meant that word was traveling quickly around the hospital that she had been attacked. Wonderful, not only was she a rape victim but now she was an object of pity.
Lavinia. The woman had called her Lavinia.
Who was Lavinia?
Jane took the spare suit he kept in his car, still tucked in a dry cleaning bag and went to the men's room of the CBI. It was close to two in the morning so it was as private a place as any, even with the more recent traffic due to Lisbon's case. Rigsby and Cho were still at the scene, but Jane had ducked away when they'd had to tell Bertram about Lisbon's rape. He knew the director would only see it as an inconvenience and not the true act of injustice that it was.
He placed the suit on the bathroom counter and then shrugged out of the coat. He let it fall heedlessly to floor. The mirror showed his reflection: tired, slightly red eyes, the lines of his face harder and more visible at this hour, the loose black bow tie that stood above the white dress shirt. The shirt made the perfect canvas for Lisbon's blood, dried now from a vivid red to a permanent rust color.
That tie felt like a hand wrapped around his throat so he tugged at it until he heard the threads pop. It slipped free of it's knot and he threw it down. His fingers fumbled at the tiny buttons of his shirt. He hated looking at it. When the last button came free, he flung it down to the ground in disgust. He hoped they burned it one day. At the very least, he never wanted to see it again.
Now bare from the waist up, Jane could see something he'd missed before. Some of Lisbon's blood had dried on his neck, probably from when he'd been holding her. Jane turned on the faucet and noticed more of her blood on his hands. Most had been wiped away, but some had bored itself into the crevices of his nails.
Jane didn't bother with soap, just scrubbed at his hands with the water. The liquid splashed back into the sink slightly browned by the blood. He slapped at the stain on his neck with his wet hands, watching as the water rolled down his shoulder and over the muscles of his chest. He rubbed at the spot until the skin was red, but the blood was gone.
The mirror showed him for what he was: exposed. He hated this feeling, but what he despised the most was knowing that Lisbon felt a thousand times worse than he.
Why?
It was a question he had no answer to. Why had this happened to her? It wasn't fair, nothing in life was, but that wasn't an excuse this time. Of all the people in the world, Lisbon was the last person who deserved this.
If he believed in God then he would have railed at him for this. But he wasn't a believer so he had no one to argue with…except himself.
He should have stayed with her. He shouldn't have let her walk away. His damned need to be alone had gotten her raped. If he had been a better man, he would have danced with her some more. He would have guided her off of the dance floor, chatted with her over champagne and then walked her back to her car when the night was over.
He might as well have just handed her to the bastard.
Hating himself was easy; he'd done it for nearly a decade now. What was one more piece of guilt? It only proved that he truly was a curse to those he cared about.
But berating himself wouldn't catch the man who did this. He had to find him and make him suffer for what he had done. That was the only way to make amends to her for this.
Jane changed into his spare suit and carefully folded up the ruined tuxedo. He only did it for show, he would much rather have left it in a crumpled ball. Better yet, he would like to just toss it all into a fire and be done with it for good. He did what was expected and dropped it off at the forensics department.
They were already on top of Lisbon's case so they took the clothes and didn't ask many questions. He was grateful for that.
Van Pelt was back at her desk now; it looked like going through the guest list and the staff of the party. He decided to let her work in peace and didn't even say hello to her on his way out. He needed to be back at the hospital.
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A nurse was just leaving Lisbon's room when he arrived. She smiled and nodded her head to the door. "I'm sorry, but she's sleeping right now. You may want to come back later."
"That's all right," he said, "I promise I won't disturb her. I just hate the idea of her being alone right now."
The nurse nodded. "Okay, but please be quiet. She needs her rest."
"Just call me a church mouse," he said, flashing her his most reassuring smile. He knew she was watching him as he opened the door so he made sure to slip in quietly and then carefully slip it closed.
Now that he was in the room alone with her, Jane glanced over at Lisbon's bed. She lay there, her blankets up to her chin with her eyes closed. "You are a terrible actress."
Lisbon's eyes opened, but she didn't glare at him like she normally would have. "I just wanted her to go," she said.
Jane nodded a little. "I understand, would you like me to go?"
"No, you can stay," she said, "At least you're not putting on some fake smile and overly cheerful conversation."
"Yes well, she's a nurse, being overly friendly is part of her job." Jane took up the chair next to Lisbon's bed. She looked at him once and then settled back into her pillows. Now that he was to her left, he could see a red line that ran down her neck, arcing towards her collarbone. "Did he scratch you?" Jane asked and traced an imaginary line in the same spot in his neck.
Lisbon reached up and felt the mark with her good hand. "No," she said, "not exactly."
He opened his mouth to ask for further details, but then he noticed something odd about the scratch. It was too thin to belong to a fingernail and it had a sort of serrated pattern to it. The only thing that could have made such a mark was a small chain, like the one that held Lisbon's cross.
"He took your necklace," he said. It took her a moment to give him a numb little nod in response. For some reason this cut into Jane. Back when they'd first met, he'd zeroed in on that little gold cross and known it had been a gift from her mother, her most cherished possession after her death. He had seen Lisbon clutch at that cross in prayer when she was frightened. He could call it a crutch, but if that belief in its symbol could help her through tough times then he wouldn't criticize.
It was a source of comfort to her and that bastard had taken it to use as a trophy. There was something inherently evil in that. Right then, Jane made a silent vow to return that cross to her. He couldn't allow someone so cruel to possess something so precious to her.
"You should try and get some sleep," he said just to change the subject away to something a bit more comfortable for her.
"Sleep. That's funny," she replied flatly. He knew all to well how she felt in that, but he did want her to rest. He could hypnotize her but right now he needed her trust. It was best not to push her.
She looked at him as if she expected him to say something else, but she was wrong. He had no intention of forcing her to engage in any conversation if she didn't want to. He wanted her to be relaxed in his presence. He knew he couldn't treat her experience as something minor, but he could let her talk about it on her own time.
The silence sat between them for a while, but he refused to let it bother him. He wanted her to see that he didn't come here to talk to her, just to be there for her. He hoped she took comfort from his presence. Only she could say that for certain.
"Who is Lavinia?"
The sudden question surprised Jane. "Hmm?" he asked and met her eyes.
"One of the nurses called me Lavinia," she explained, "I asked what that meant but she only said that her husband was an English professor. I thought you might know what that meant."
He did and he was sorely tempted to lie and say he hadn't the foggiest idea. Shame on that nurse to say such a thing. She had no right to discuss something so distasteful in front of Lisbon. Jane might have even discussed this with the head nurse, except he knew Lisbon had endured enough drama for now. He had no choice but to let it go. He also had no choice but to tell her the truth. Right now, it really was impossible to convincingly lie to her.
"She's a character from Shakespeare's sixth play Titus Andronicus," Jane explained, "She's the daughter of the titular character. The play is set during the Roman Empire, but it isn't one of his histories. It is actually a revenge tragedy."
"Revenge tragedy?" Lisbon repeated, "What does that mean?"
"It means it's a very bloody play."
"Bloody like Romeo and Juliet?" she asked.
Jane shook his head, grinning just a little. "Bloody like Friday the 13th."
She quirked her brows in surprise. Clearly she only knew Shakespeare's more popular, less gory works. "Why would that nurse say I was like Lavinia then?"
Jane was careful to time his response, not speaking too fast and not waiting too long to answer. "I honestly don't know."
He thought he'd done pretty well, but the way she narrowed her eyes at him in disappointment said he'd failed. He may not have any tells, but she could still see his lie clearly. "Cut the crap, Jane. Just say it, she gets raped."
He still flinched at the word. Perhaps he would always do that from now on. He finally just nodded a little.
"What else happens to her?"
The mutilation of Lavinia was one of the most well known aspects of the play, but he couldn't tell her that. She had endured enough torture for a lifetime; he didn't want her to feel the pain of a fictional character.
"It's a tragedy," he said instead, "most everyone dies in the play."
That was answer enough, hopefully it would appease her. She eyed him for while, but he didn't turn away with a guilty look. He knew this game well. Instead he just stared back at her until she finally gave up.
Lisbon shut her eyes and shifted back in her bed, but he knew she wasn't going to sleep. She opened her eyes after a few minutes and stared back at the closed door. Jane just watched her. All he could for her was be there. Somehow, that still didn't seem enough.
The sun was finally rising when Cho and Rigsby made it to the CBI. They had spent an inordinate amount of time at the scene of Lisbon's attack, scouring every inch of the pavement, double-checking every piece of evidence. They were being overly cautious but they didn't really care, they wanted to make sure that nothing was overlooked. They wanted to catch this guy as soon as possible.
Van Pelt was at her desk; the work attire she kept at the office replaced her beautiful red dress. Cho and Rigsby had changed out of their tuxes as soon as they could as well. No one had gone home though; no one had taken a break to sleep. They were all running off of concern, anger, adrenaline and most of all, caffeine.
Grace's desk was littered with empty coffee cups and reports; she had been taking down any reports of suspicious people and other crimes that had occurred in the area where Lisbon had been attacked. Not that she knew what she was actually looking for, but like her friends, Grace was going the extra mile in her efforts to find the man that had hurt their boss.
"Hey," she said, her voice was soft with fatigue. "Did you guys find anything at the scene?"
Cho and Rigsby exchanged shameful looks. They had actually found quite a bit at the scene, more than they had wanted to. "Yeah, we did," Rigsby replied finally, keeping the details to himself.
"Nothing that would help up us identify the suspect though," Cho admitted and threw his jacket down on his desk. He looked around the room and noted the empty couch. "Where's Jane?"
Grace shook her head. "Forensics said he dropped of his clothes and left. I think he went back to the hospital."
"Did you get the evidence from the Forensic Nurse?"
She nodded. "I haven't look at it yet though, I just can't bring myself to read the report." Grace had been looking down at her hands when she said this. She looked up again to see Cho and Rigsby exchanging uncomfortable looks again. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rigsby said a bit too quickly.
She narrowed her eyes at them. "What aren't you telling me? Is it about Lisbon? What happened? Did the hospital call?"
Rigsby looked back at Cho who simply nodded his head a little. "Grace…the guy…he didn't just attack her." Rigsby just couldn't bring himself to spell it out.
For a moment Grace considered his words. Finally the truth hit her quickly and her eyes widened with a sharp gasp. "You mean he…?"
Cho nodded. "Yeah."
"Oh God," she exclaimed and covered her face with her hands. They knew that she was crying quietly for Lisbon. It hurt her more in a lot of ways because she was a woman. She lived with that same fear but always said that it would never happen to her, never to someone she loved.
How horrible it was to be wrong.
They were quiet for a while until Grace finally looked back up, her eyes were red but she wasn't crying now. "We're going to go back to the hospital and get Lisbon's complete statement about what happened," Cho said stiffly.
"I'll stay here and monitor the phones," Grace offered very quickly, "maybe someone will report something."
It was an unusual thing for Grace to volunteer for. When someone from the team got hurt Grace was usually the person who stayed at the hospital, compassionately making sure that they were all right. Now she didn't want to go.
It had to be because of what happened.
But Cho just nodded and Rigsby said. "It's okay…we'll be back soon."
Grace watched them go with a terribly sad expression on her face. Dozens of questions flashed through her mind. Most of all: Why?
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Grace had been right, Jane was still at the hospital; he'd stayed the whole night. He wasn't entirely sure if he had helped Lisbon at all, they hadn't spoken much and neither one of them had gotten any sleep. But he didn't want her to be alone and he had a feeling she didn't either.
There hadn't been any safe subjects to discuss. Trivial topics seemed ridiculous and any mentions of her attack were much too painful for them both. He'd done his part to try and get her to speak about anything but Lisbon hadn't been willing to contribute much. It was just as well; he hadn't felt like talking either. So for the vast majority of the night they had been silent.
Despite the tension in the room Jane had stayed in the chair by her bed the entire time. He excused himself this morning only because the doctor had returned and wanted to check on Lisbon's injuries and perform another pelvic exam. Jane had left quickly after the doctor's explanation; he could see the desperation and shame on Lisbon's face. That had been harder to see than any of the injuries that marred her skin
Jane procured himself a to-go cup of tea from a cart outside and planned to make his way back to Lisbon's room to wait until the exam was finished. That is how Cho and Rigsby found him.
"Jane," Rigsby called out from the entrance, he walked over and met them halfway there. "How is she?" Jane gave him a look and Rigsby corrected himself. "I mean I know that it must be bad but…is she doing…okay?"
He sighed a little and shook his head. "She didn't sleep at all, but then again none of us did."
"Did she say anything?" Cho asked.
"No, she hasn't spoken much," Jane admitted, "she's ashamed."
"Of what?" Rigsby said genuinely confused, "this wasn't her fault."
Jane shrugged a little. "Tell that to Lisbon. Right now she's questioning everything she thinks she did or could have done to prevent this."
"That's ridiculous."
"You won't get any arguments from me."
Cho decided to get back to business. "Can we speak with her?"
Jane nodded. "She was being examined again, but she might be alone now."
They were prepared to head back towards Lisbon's room when a slight commotion caught their attention. A man was frantically speaking to one of the nurses at the front desk, he was almost shouting. "Teresa Lisbon, what room is she in? Can you tell me where she is?"
They had met Lisbon's younger brother, Tommy. But even if they hadn't Jane knew he would have recognized her brother anyways. They had the same dark hair, the same shaped ears, the same strong and determined chin, they even stood the same way, straight and firm.
Before the nurse could answer Tommy's questions he looked up and spotted Lisbon's team. "Cho, Rigsby, Jane!" he shouted and rushed over towards them. "Where is she? What the hell happened?"
"She's upstairs," Jane answered. He couldn't say anything else, he certainly wasn't going to lie and say that Lisbon was fine.
"I just got a call last night from James, he said the hospital called him and said that Reese had been admitted but they didn't say anything else," Tommy explained, "So what happened? She's okay, right?"
"She's conscious and her injuries are not severe."
That calmed Tommy down just a little. He took a steadying breath now that he knew that his sister wasn't lapsing in a coma or recovering from surgery. He had no idea that the worst injuries were never physical. "So what is it? Did a suspect get too rough or something?"
Rigsby shook his head. "We were at a fundraiser last night and someone attacked her outside."
Tommy's eyes widened and he took in another sharp breath. "But she's okay." The answering nod was weak but it was enough. "I want to see her, what room is she in?"
"311," Rigsby said but quickly cut in before Tommy could rush towards the elevator. "But Tommy, there is something you should know…"
"You need to prepare yourself," Jane told him, "she doesn't look like herself right now."
"She's my sister, I'll be fine." Tommy replied confidently.
Yes, she was and no, he wouldn't, not when he finally understood the full extent of what happened to his sister.
"There's more," Cho said. His voice was grave, something that Tommy picked up on. He turned towards Cho reluctantly; he knew that he was about to hear something absolutely horrible. "She was raped."
Jane watched as Tommy's face went completely white and then quickly flushed red. His eyes narrowed in outrage. "Shut up!" he shouted and before anyone could say anything, had shoved Cho up against the wall. "That's not true, that couldn't have happened to her."
Rigsby pulled Tommy off of Cho who simply stepped aside. "I'm sorry," Cho told him.
But Tommy was still struggling with his anger. "What is wrong with you people? You are the cops! You're supposed to protect her! How could you let this happen?"
That was a good question. One they all felt but were too ashamed to answer.
Tommy stopped fighting and suddenly went limp. "Oh God this shouldn't have happened to her. Oh God, oh God." Rigsby lost his grip on Tommy who sank down to his knees and began to cry.
The three men stood close by, ignoring the stares from the hospital staff and other visitors, and quietly waited for Tommy to pull himself together. Finally he stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes and took in a shaky breath. "Where is she?"
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Lisbon was doing the same thing she had been all night, lying in her hospital bed and quietly waiting for this nightmare to come to an end. She knew that it wouldn't, that for the rest of her life she would have to live with the fact that she was one of those unfortunate women who knew what it was like to be violated. Now she was another statistic, another case file, a piece of evidence. She wasn't just Agent Teresa Lisbon anymore.
She was a victim.
She was exhausted but not sleepy, she wanted to sleep. She wanted to curl up into a ball and escape her thoughts for days but she was afraid to. Lisbon was afraid of what she would see when she closed her eyes; she knew it would be absolutely horrible.
Footsteps approached her closed door and Lisbon immediately assumed that more doctors or nurses were coming by for another exam. Why not? It seemed like she had been poked and prodded by everyone, even worse, gone through two different pelvic exams. It was impossible for her to be anymore humiliated than she already was.
But when the door opened, it was not an overly friendly nurse or a quiet methodical doctor.
It was her younger brother.
"Tommy," she breathed out as soon as she found her voice again. No he shouldn't be here. She didn't want him to see her like this.
For his part, Tommy was clearly taken aback by her appearance. He stood in the doorway completely stunned as he took it all in. Her swollen eye, the cuts on her face, the cast on her wrist and the bruises that seemed to cover every inch of her. She looked absolutely horrible and nothing like the sister he knew.
"Hey Reese," he managed to choke out.
"What are you doing here?
"The hospital called James since he's your emergency contact. He told Will and me. I was the one that could drop everything on a moment's notice." Tommy was still standing in the doorway with a slightly stunned look on his face. Lisbon could see her team over Tommy's shoulder, silently waiting in the hallway. He must have met them on his way up.
She kept her eyes on him and saw the anguish in them, and it wasn't just from her appearance.
Tommy knew what really happened to her.
"They told you didn't they?" Lisbon said quietly, her face becoming impassive and cold. She didn't want to look him in the eye now. Tommy didn't say anything but solemnly nodded his head, filling her heart with shame.
She tried to smile just a little. "I'm fine, Tommy. You shouldn't have come."
"A guy attacks my sister and I'm not supposed to care?" Tommy asked incredulously. "That's bullshit, Reese, and you know it."
"You have a job and a daughter, you can't just forget about that."
"You need me now," Tommy pointed out.
"I'm fine."
"Stop putting on that act, Reese. You've been playing that same part since we were kids, bottling everything up to try and protect us." Tommy told her, a slight edge to his voice. "You can't fool me. I know you."
Lisbon looked away from him. "I can't do this. I can't do this with you looking at me like that. I just want this all to go away and with you here…" Her voice trailed off as her emotions choked her up. Tears fell down her cheeks but she still couldn't look at her brother. As long as Tommy was here she couldn't pretend that everything was going to be okay, she couldn't stop seeing that horrified look in his eye that told her that she was completely broken.
"I'm staying, Reese." His voice was firm and unwavering, she knew that if she told him to go it would be like whistling in the wind.
"I didn't want you to see me like this," she admitted.
Tommy stepped beside her bed and smiled a little. "This is nothing, I saw you when you had the measles and that was worse." It was a lie and a poor attempt at humor but it was something at least. "I'm your brother," he reminded her, "nothing in this world is going to make me stop caring about you."
Then Tommy put a comforting hand on her arm and Lisbon felt what little ease she'd had before completely vanish.
She tried to scoot away from him discreetly but Tommy didn't catch the hint. Instead he tried to reach over and give her a small hug. The closer he got the more her heart raced painfully, a cold sweat broke over her. For moment there she was back in the alley and someone else was looming over her with much more sinister intentions.
"Please," Lisbon whimpered out and turned away from him. "Please don't…"
"What?" Tommy asked completely off guard by her request. Lisbon pulled the blanket tighter around her, as if that would be a barrier to protect her. Suddenly he realized what was making her so afraid.
Him.
"Oh," he said and stepped back so that he was at comfortable distance away from him. But he was upset; she could see that clearly.
"I'm so sorry, Tommy," she told him, "It's not you I just…I can't…" Tears spilled down her cheeks and she was having a very difficult time keeping herself from outright sobbing.
"It's okay," Tommy told her, "I understand."
He needed to leave. She needed to be alone when she finally lost her control over her emotions; she knew that now. "Tommy, could you please get me some coffee?" she asked him very softly.
Tommy nodded. "Sure," and slowly he backed out of the door leaving her alone again.
When the door closed behind him Lisbon grabbed one of her pillows and buried her face in it to muffle her sobs.
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When Tommy finally came out of Lisbon's room he looked completely shocked. Obviously things hadn't gone so well. But Jane knew that was the best they could hope for at the moment. He didn't say anything, just waited for Tommy to speak first.
He looked up at the team and his eyes met Jane's. "She won't let me touch her. She was actually afraid when I tried to…I'm not going to hurt her!"
"She knows," Jane told him.
Tommy shook his head. "Then why was she afraid?"
"It isn't you," Jane explained to him, "haphephobia is a pretty standard reaction to this sort of trauma. It's not specifically your touch that upsets her, but anyone's."
Tommy covered his face with his hands. "This just can't be happening." He took his hands away and looked back towards the closed door. "The way she looks…" His hands curled into fists and he turned towards the members of Lisbon's team. "Do you know who did this?"
They slowly shook their heads. "Then what the hell are you doing? Find him!"
"We're doing everything we can," Cho assured him. It was a cliché line but it was the truth. Not one of them had slept since Lisbon was attacked. Unfortunately there was only so much they could do.
Tommy shook his head again and sighed, he was accepting their answer as best as he could. "I have to call my brothers. I don't know what I'm going to tell them," he admitted.
Jane smiled softly. "Tell them the truth. That you are going to be here and help her because you will. She does need you, but more importantly, she needs you to be strong for her."
Tommy took in his words and then slowly nodded his head. "I'll do that." He took a few steps down the hall and turned around quickly. "Just get this guy, all right?"
"We will," Jane promised.
He meant it.
While Tommy had done the unenviable task of informing his brothers of their sister's attack, Lisbon's team had returned to their original purpose. She'd done what she could to put on a mask of stoicism but Jane could tell that really she was just numb. It had been an awkward scene when she was reminded that they needed a complete statement of the attack. None of them wanted to hear the details and Lisbon really didn't want to tell it. The solution had been for her to write it all down so they could go over it later.
With her brother now staying with her, Jane felt comfortable enough to leave the hospital. Not that he wouldn't be constantly worried about her but Jane knew that he really wanted to figure out where they were on the case. He needed to find this man.
Grace was still at her desk when her teammates filed in. "How's Lisbon?" she asked quietly. It really was an absurd question to ask but what else was there to say?
"She's doing the best she can," Jane offered but it was obvious what he really meant.
"Maybe one of you guys should have stayed there." He didn't miss that Grace wasn't volunteering for that task. This was hurting her badly.
"Her brother Tommy is there now," Rigsby explained.
Grace nodded and looked away from all of them. "I was looking up reports from around the area. Beyond a few calls about vagrants and a mugging, there wasn't much."
"Nothing fit the M.O.?"
"No," Grace explained, "nothing in Sacramento or the surrounding areas."
"Did you send the evidence from the hospital down to Forensics?" Cho asked.
"They said it's top priority but it will still take time to see if there is a match in the system," Grace replied, "but they do have plenty of DNA to work with." She looked back up to her teammates. "Has Lisbon said anything?"
Rigsby held up the sheaf of papers. "She wrote out her statement." He put the papers back down on his desk but fiddled with the top sheet. "But I don't really know if I want to read it," he admitted.
An awkward pall came over all four of them. Nobody wanted to read what she had written; nobody really wanted to know the details of her attack. It was hard enough just knowing that it had happen, to know the particulars of what this man did to her…it was a nightmare none of them wanted to face.
They were still searching for a way to break the silence when Wainwright walked into the bullpen with a very anxious expression on his face. "I've been hearing some things…" he said to the team very slowly. "Is it true? Was Lisbon sexually assaulted?"
The accompanying silence was answer enough.
"Oh God," Wainwright breathed, putting a hand to his mouth as the terrible news finally sank in. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Have you…what have you found?"
"Lisbon gave us her statement."
"She said he was wearing a dress shirt," Jane reminded him. "He was at the event."
Wainwright nodded. "Keep me informed, I want to know everything about this investigation." It was no real surprise there. Wainwright had the good sense to quietly leave Lisbon's team to their job.
It took a moment for them to regain their senses. Cho was the one who spoke first, immediately taking over. "For now, we assume that our suspect was at the fundraiser. Van Pelt, get a list of the people who staffed the event, we start there."
Now he turned to Rigsby. "The Plaza had security cameras. We need that footage if only to establish when the attack took place."
"On it," Rigsby said immediately picking up his phone to call the Plaza.
Cho returned to his own desk to start checking through the statements of the witnesses they had spoken to, not that it would do much good, no one had seen anything of note. Working allowed a certain amount of normalcy to return to the group, they could almost pretend they weren't working their boss's assault case.
Rigsby looked up from his desk where he was on hold and noticed one thing out of place. "Where's Jane?"
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Jane sought out the privacy of his dreary attic space for the moment. The slips of paper that contained Lisbon's statement were tucked neatly under his arm. He'd stealthily taken in from Rigsby's desk knowing that it would be best to look through it away from anyone else's eyes.
Still when he finally sat down with the papers at hand…he couldn't do it.
He looked at the letters but couldn't read the words. He ran his fingertips over Lisbon's neat even handwriting, noting the little subtleties such as the way her t's were slanted and how her r's almost looked like n's. It was hard to believe that these letters comprised a horrifying attack on the living person he cared about most.
He had to read it. He had to know all of the information so he could find the man who did this. That person needed pay dearly for the damage he had wrought and Jane would see to it.
But he still didn't read it.
For the moment he preferred to live in the fantasy of yesterday when he was annoying Lisbon into another migraine and watching her smile. When she wasn't bruised, beaten and abused. When the only tragedy he knew was him self.
It was dark.
Not late in the evening dark, but a total blackness with no guiding light. Lisbon had never seen such a place before. It was like being trapped in the deepest dungeon with no hope for release.
The darkness was bone chilling. Lisbon could only lie there on the cold, hard ground with no touch of heat to relieve her. She didn't even know where she was. All she could see was black and feel the cool air against her bare skin.
That was another thing: she was completely naked. How had she gotten to this terrifying place without any clothes? Well she wouldn't find the answer to that lying down.
Lisbon ordered her arms to move but they remain outstretched. Her legs wouldn't move either, only her neck was in working order. Dear God, why was she completely paralyzed?
There was a warm breeze that tickled her face. It came again and again. Then she heard that hideous laugh.
Lisbon struggled against her invisible bonds, urging her limbs to move. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She grunted in her efforts, but they were in vain. She belonged entirely to him.
One of his hands circled her ankle and then slowly inched its way up her calf, over her knee and onto her thigh. No! she tried to scream, Stop! Her mouth would open but no sound came forth.
His other hand was caressing her bare stomach, making lazy rings around her navel. Her skin crawled wherever he touched. She felt his breath in her face again. Lisbon could only twist her head away from him.
His laughter filled the entire black space. He touched her hair, her face, her breasts, no inch of her was safe from him. She was his plaything. His toy. She had no way to fight him.
Scream! she told her self, Scream! Fight! Stop!
He laughed out her name. "Teresa," he said, "Teresa."
"Teresa!"
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Lisbon opened her eyes and slapped at the dark face hovering over her. He jerked away so she came away with nothing by empty air. "Reese, calm down, it's me."
Tommy.
Now that her eyes were adjusting to the light she could make out her younger brother perfectly. He was standing by her hospital bed, one hand wrapped around the safety rail. She panted out his name and then rubbed one hand across her forehead. She was completely covered in sweat, so much that her hospital gown was sticking to her body.
"It's okay," Tommy said, "it was just a dream."
Yes, that was it. She'd been watching some crummy daytime soap opera when she'd felt the cold fingers of fatigue reaching for her. She'd tried to fight it, but obviously she had succumbed.
It had all been a dream. The dark, immoral place. His laughter. His breath. It all been a figment of her fragile mind. Her first nightmare, the first of many.
But she could still feel his sinful touch. She rubbed at her arms, her stomach, but it couldn't erase the sensation. She was covered in him.
The door opened and Helen the nurse walked in. "Is everything all right? We heard some shouting."
"I'm fine," she said. Her voice quivered out the words.
"Just a nightmare," Tommy said.
Helen picked up Lisbon's wrist before she could protest. Her whole arm was shaking in the woman's grasp. She fingered the radial pulse and frowned. "Your pulse is racing. Let me get you a sedative."
"No!" The last thing she could possibly want was more sleep.
"It will only hurt for a second." Helen held up the needle containing the poison that would bring her back into that dark pit of Hell.
"No! Don't! Please, don't!"
"It will help you sleep."
"I don't need anymore sleep," she begged. She looked over at Tommy with her one good eye. "Please, don't make me sleep anymore."
His brows were knit in concern but he nodded. "I think she's all right," he said to Helen, "You don't need to do that."
Helen looked down at Lisbon for a moment and then capped the needle. "Okay then. If you need anything just press the button."
If that meant more sedatives then she sure as hell would never press that button.
Helen left them alone again. Lisbon could feel her heart rate slipping back into it's normal rhythm. Her body wasn't shaking as much, but she kept rubbing at her skin. She wanted to shower. She needed to wash him off of her.
"It'll be all right, Reese," Tommy said. She saw his hand come up, aiming to be placed as a source of comfort on her shoulder.
She flinched and shook her head furiously. "Please, Tommy, please don't."
He withdrew his hand and nodded. "Sorry, I was just—."
"I know, but I really, really don't—."
"I know," he said, "It's okay, I understand."
She wasn't really sure if he did, but he didn't try to touch her. He sat back down in his chair and picked up his phone again. Maybe he was checking his e-mail or scanning the news. Lisbon turned over onto her side so he wouldn't see the tears rolling down her cheeks. She kept rubbing at her skin, ignoring the pain it caused to her sore muscles and bruises. She needed to forget his touch. She needed to feel clean again.
A/N: Well what did you guys think? Tommy will stick around for a while as his older sister has to recover from her physical injuries, the mental ones will take A LOT longer to heal as you can imagine.
Next chapter the case amps up a bit as the first suspect is brought forward? Who is it? Is he Lisbon's rapist? Who do you think it is? Hehehe you'll have to wait and see! But stick around, the final scene of the next chapter will really define the Jisbon relationship in this story, you won't want to miss it!
Please review!
