Homeward Bound
Chapter 2
It was almost evening when Jane was finally, blissfully alone.
He had collected his stuff from the county jail and stood in front of the large building- unsure of what to do now.
He simply didn´t know where to turn to.
First of all he went to the next ice cream parlor and tried to make his pick from a ridiculously huge choice of ice cream. After all these months in prison it felt hard to decide for himself. What was it he truly wanted?
He settled on cinnamon at last and sat down with his ice cream on a bench in the sunshine, close to a nice little park.
Hmmmm- the treat smelled delicious. The sweet, warm scent, spicy, cosy, energetic, reminded him of- agent Lisbon. He remembered the case they´d solved when he´d been temporarily blind. He had touched her face and she had smelled like cinnamon…wrapping his nostrils in pure sweetness, urging him to come closer, to press his face against her neck, touch her pulse point with his tongue…slant his lips across her soft white skin, kissing, sucking, licking…he suddenly noticed that he lapped at his ice cream in a rather obscene way and smiled slightly to himself. At least his…masculine senses seemed to be intact after all this years. He hadn´t had indecent fantasies for quite a while.
Hell, what now?
He sat on the bench till darkness fell, quietly musing his options.
XXMentalistXX
He got busy the next couple of weeks.
The house in Malibu went on the market immediately. But he was sick of hotels, so he started searching for a new domicile. Eventually he found a small, well-kept beach bungalow with a spectacular view over the ocean- he could afford it from the Malibu villa´s sale, so he bought it without thinking too long.
He had no furniture, so he purchased a rather large bed (no bunks for him anymore), a closet and a table with matching chairs for the kitchen. Then he took his time to find the perfect couch- in the end, it wasn´t really perfect, but a close call. He got two deck chairs and a very small table for his porch and a cupboard for his books.
He thought about changing his style…he went shopping and tried every pair of jeans he could find before he realized that he simply couldn´t stand them- too heavy on his frame, the fabric too rough for his liking. T-shirts were too skimpy- he almost felt naked when he wore them. And he disliked the way they emphasized his biceps and pectorals- his muscles weren´t that spectacular, but he found them too bulbous in the close-fitting, short-sleeved shirts. He hated to look like a hunk.
So he went to his favorite tailor instead and ordered some new suits with matching vests. He thought about buying some fancy shirts in flashy colors, but found he looked ridiculous in turquoise or dark red. So he chose the usual unobtrusive shades of white and light blue.
One night he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror, twiddling with his wedding band. He should take it off, he knew it. This was a new life. He would never forget his family, love them forever. The nightmares hadn´t stopped, the guilt still tore at his heart. He was unbearably lonely. But he had to move on. To whatever. Something…different than just suffering.
He fought a fierce battle with himself for hours. And finally took the ring of with a vehement, quick motion.
But when he dined in a restaurant that evening and several attractive women tried to flirt with him, he suddenly felt suffocated, unbelievably scared, vulnerable, defenseless- he fled from his table, raced home and put the wedding band back on immediately.
This night, his nightmares were especially bad. Blood and gore everywhere, his wife´s toenails painted in her own blood. The smiling face on the wall. He woke up with a scream, his body coated in sweat. He ran to the bathroom and threw up, his stomach clenching painfully again and again until it was completely empty. He curled in front of the toilet and cried for hours.
He still felt sick the next morning. He sat on the porch, wrapped in a thick blanket despite the warm sunshine, watching the waves lapping at the beach.
He felt lost.
Suddenly he sensed a presence behind him and turned- The corners of his mouth curled upward before a full-fledged smile lit his features.
Madeleine Hightower answered with a smile of her own.
"How nice of you to come for a visit.", Jane said, "Please, have a seat, Madeleine."
His voice sounded raspy to his own ears- how long had it been since he had talked to somebody? He always seemed to be alone these days.
Hightower sat down.
"Well," Jane smiled, "how are things at the CBI?"
"Fine," she answered, her face a model of calm, "how are things here?"
He knew he should possibly lie to her. But after all that had happened, he found he just couldn´t. So he stayed silent, his smile still firmly in place. She unmasked the truth when he looked at her. She immediately saw the pain in his eyes, the woebegone , forlorn desperation hidden in their depths. He was like a small boy who wanted to go home and couldn´t find his way.
"You know," she said quietly, "you could always come back."
"Meh," he answered," you know I can´t. She wouldn´t have me. She never saw me in prison, she didn´t even attend the trial."
"Just because you didn´t see her, it doesn´t mean she hasn´t been there."
The smile vanished from his face. He was stunned- the thought that Lisbon had been there after all left him speechless. How had she managed to hide from him? He had looked for her every day. Longed for her to be there, to give him strength.
"Promise me something, Patrick.", Hightower said, putting her hand on his arm, "When the pain gets too strong, turn to us. We are your friends- every single one of us. We´ll find a way."
She lightly patted his arm, got up and left.
Jane sat alone in the growing darkness. He still had no idea what he should do now.
XXMentalistXX
Some hours later he lay in his bed, painful sobs wracking his body. Another nightmare had woken him, now the sweat cooled on his body and he shivered violently.
He found himself whispering her name, crying out for her. Lisbon. Come here and take me home.
Nothing had changed. He was lonely and sad, he had nothing left that was worth going on- nothing except his sweet memories of her. And she wouldn´t have him back. She wouldn´t see him. She had extinguished him from her life. He cried unconsolably. He hadn´t cried in years- but he simply couldn´t stop these days. He had lost everything. And nobody was there to protect him.
His life was gone.
XXMentalistXX
Maybe he should travel- see something different. Head to new shores, so to say.
He decided to start with small steps. So he drove to Los Angeles one sunny morning to try out this new freedom of his. Maybe he should start over in a new city. Maybe somewhere abroad. Europe? He´d always wanted to see Italy. France. He could go anywhere. Reinvent himself.
His mood wasn´t bad when he started at his house close to Sacramento.
He did some sightseeing in L.A.. Had lunch at a very fancy restaurant. Tried to shop a little bit and found out that he simply couldn´t bear it.
He felt alien, unwelcome, his loneliness ate at him like a disease. He was a stranger, and he would be one at every place in the whole wide world. He couldn´t escape his loneliness. Couldn´t elude the pain or his fear.
He would always be a man who had lost his beloved family. Damaged goods. Bound to suffer. Deep inside he would always be a small little boy, trying to find someone who would take him home, longing to be held.
Lisbon.
He sobbed quietly. He would give everything to have her back in his life. Even if she just scowled at him. Even if she hated him with all her might. To see contempt in her eyes would be better than not to see her at all.
He raced to his car and drove back to his house on the beach.
Evening found him sitting on his porch. A storm was coming up, darkness started to obscure the sky, and Jane sat in the whipping wind.
And when he watched the waves crash against the beach under a sky full of angry grey clouds, Patrick Jane suddenly understood that there was just one place in the world where he truly felt at home: next to a fierce little dark-haired woman with huge green eyes and the sweetest pout he had ever seen. She was his home. And he missed her so much he hurt inside and out.
He allowed the tears to fall again. And he almost welcomed the searing pain that consumed his heart.
There was only one place where he wanted to be- and he had to get back there. At all costs.
3rd chapter is already in progress- thank you so much for your reviews and/or alerts!