A/N: New chapter. Enjoy. It's a little angsty…
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sad. Chapter title and lyrics by The Sterophonics
Chapter 2: It Means Nothing
Did we lose ourself again?
Did we take in what's been said?
xxx
It takes nearly a week to solve the elementary school teacher case. It turns out that he accused another teacher of sexually abusing a student; the accusations resulted in the other teacher's firing. Apparently, the other teacher killed him as revenge.
"Poor guy," Rigsby says as they finish up the paperwork. "He was trying to do the right thing and look what happened to him."
They all nod wearily.
"Go home," Lisbon tells them. "Get some rest. I'll see you Monday." She knows she's glad it is the weekend and she's sure they are, too. Sure enough, they all make a mad dash from the building, as though she might change her mind.
Laughing to herself, she gathers her things to head out as well. They really seem to think she's an ogre or something sometimes. It's rather fun, really. (Tiny but fierce, Jane calls her.)
When she gets home, she finds him in the kitchen, standing over the stove and looking puzzled.
"What are you doing?" she asks, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
"Trying to make dinner but the sauce looks weird."
She leans around him to look. "That does not look edible," she informs him, wrinkling her nose. He's surprisingly useful in the kitchen but today is clearly an off day.
He sighs sadly. "Takeout?"
"Absolutely," she says, reaching for their pile of menus.
Half an hour later, they are settled on the couch, boxes of Thai food in hand.
"So," he says around a mouthful of noodles. "Do you have to work this weekend?"
She shakes her head. "Closed it," she tells him. "We're on call if there's another case they need us for but so far so good."
"Excellent. I have you to myself this weekend."
She wrinkles her nose. "Should I be scared?" she asks. He nods vigorously.
"Very," he says.
Xxx
When she wakes up one Saturday morning a few weeks later, she finds a note from Jane on his pillow (accompanied by his customary origami animal, of course) saying he's running errands but will be home around lunch.
She stretches, smiling to herself. She never used to enjoy lazy days at home but (she has to admit) they're more fun with Jane around. He certainly keeps things interesting and quiet time around the house is nicer with a companion.
She decides to take a run while she waits for him. (In spite of her best efforts, it's almost impossible to get him to exercise.) As she knots her hair into a ponytail, she pauses to admire her engagement ring. (She can't help it; it's so pretty and new…). She never pegged herself as one of those girls going ga-ga over the ring, but she loves it.
As she sets out on her run, she sets aside all thoughts of murder, paperwork, and even Jane. It's one of her favorite things about running—she can just be. It's a nice morning, sunny and not overly warm yet, and she enjoys being outside.
When she gets home, she notes briefly that Jane's car is still absent (where the hell is he?) before heading up to their apartment.
The door's unlocked (odd…). Wishing she had her weapon, she pushes it open carefully.
"Hello?" she calls.
No answer. She makes her way into the living room. Her brother is sitting on the couch, waiting expectantly as though this is an everyday occurrence.
"Tommy?" Lisbon gasps, staring at her little brother. "What are you doing here?"
(He's supposed to be in jail…)
"Ran away," he says gruffly. "I couldn't stay in prison, Tessa. I couldn't."
She feels her knees literally grow weak beneath her and she sinks into a chair. "You escaped?" she asks incredulously.
Her little brother is a convict on the run. She's a cop and her brother is an escaped felon (dear god…).
"You don't know what jail is like," he defends. "It's hell. And I've been getting these threats…"
"Threats?" she echoes numbly. Her protective older sister instinct starts to jump into gear but she shrugs it off (now is not the time). "You're in prison for a reason, Tommy. Why did you come here?"
"I didn't know where else to go."
She rubs her forehead, hoping Jane won't come home any time soon. "I'm a cop," she reminds him. "I put criminals away. I don't harbor fugitives. Even if it's you."
"You're my sister," he cries, anger and betrayal flashing in his eyes. She sighs raggedly.
"Did you rape that girl?" she wants to know. When he doesn't respond, she jumps to her feet. "Did you rape her?" she demands. He closes his eyes.
"Yes," he murmurs. "I raped her. And I know it was bad…"
"Bad?" she nearly shrieks. "Tommy!"
Bad is shoplifting or vandalism or saying something mean. What Tommy did goes so far beyond bad she can't even find a word for it.
"I know, I know. But she'll get over it. I can't be in jail again, Tessa. I can't."
She's suddenly livid. She's beyond trying to control her temper. She doesn't like to fight with him but damn it!
"You deserve to be in jail," she seethes. "After what you did to that girl you deserve to be locked up." She is trembling. She knows this is her little brother and she loves him, but right now he disgusts her (she's afraid she might vomit). He's a rapist and he should rot in prison.
"Tessa," he tries to reason but her angry shout cuts him off.
"She won't get over it," she cries. "She'll move on, she'll get through it. But she'll never get over it." She wants to shake him and hit him and ask him what right he had to hurt anyone, especially an innocent child. She has to sit down and clutch a pillow to her chest to keep from snapping.
"How do you know?" he demands. "How do you know she won't be fine?" He's furious now, too, his face red and contorted with rage.
He might be her baby brother but she's afraid of him. (Where did that sweet little boy go? The one she used to read stories to and help with his homework. Where is he?)
"I know you hate me," he continues. "I know you blame me for a lot of things. But can you stop judging me for once?"
"No," she says. Because she can't. She wants to but she can't. "Do you remember," she says after a pause, "how when we were first in foster care and Jason and I were placed together?"
He nods, obviously startled by the apparent non-sequitur.
"It was a relief," she continues, "to be with him. It made it easier for him." She wraps her arms around herself, swallowing against the urge to vomit. "I was raped, Tommy. By my foster father. And I didn't tell because I wanted to be kept with Jason. We were moved eventually anyway, and separated, but I wanted to stay together as long as we could." She closes her eyes, not wanting to see his face. "So, no," she says quietly, "I can't stop judging you. You are my little brother and I love you. But I don't think I will ever stop judging you."
He is silent. Several (agonizing) minutes tick by. They don't even move until the front door opens, startling them. She sighs in frustration as Jane strides in. Shit.
"Um, hi," he says to Tommy. "Teresa?" he asks her.
She clears her throat. "Tommy," she says, "this is Patrick, my fiancé. Patrick, this is my brother, Tommy."
"Tommy?" he echoes in disbelief.
She nods. "I'm sorry, Tommy," she says quietly, reaching for her cuffs. His eyes widen and he starts to bolt, but she's too quick. She pounces on him easily, securing the cuffs around his wrists (she always could beat him at wrestling…).
"Tessa," he whispers. "Please…"
He sounds desperate. He's literally begging her, pleading with her to help him. But she can't.
"I'm sorry," she repeats. "Patrick, call the police. Tell them I have a fugitive in custody."
xxx
A/N: Sorry. I can't resist angst. It's a weakness, really.
