Hey guys! Thanks sooo much to everyone who reviewed, you people who just put me on story alert, well meh is all i have to say! :P This chapter is a bit less emotional, and i think it's pretty OOC so i apologize. But enjoy :)
Chapter 2
"Teresa, Teresa talk to me." Jane said, driving in the car.
"You shouldn't be on the phone while you're driving Jane, it's dangerous."
He heard the worry in her voice, and knew she was probably thinking of her mother.
"I've got hands free," Jane lied.
"No you haven't," Lisbon said, "I've been in your car before, and you haven't."
"If you think I'm going to put the pone down you have another thing coming." He said firmly.
"Ok," she said, so quick to be defeated, it was not like her.
Then he reminded himself she wasn't herself. She wasn't ok.
He swallowed; he just had to get there quickly. He'd promised, if she needed him he'd be there. He was going to be there now. But it was too late, really if he was honest with himself. If he'd have been able to protect her she wouldn't be in this position. But he'd been unable to protect her. Just like he'd been unable to protect his wife and daughter.
"Are you hurt?" he said, trying to keep his voice under control.
Tearfully she replied, "Um, I don't think so. Some cuts on my hands…" her voice trailed off.
"Are you stood up?"
"No I haven't tried yet."
"Ok, wait for me to get there, just, just stay where you are."
"I'm cold."
"I know honey," he cursed himself for use of that word, "I'm nearly there I promise."
She curled up again on the ground, the phone clutched to her ear and the rain beating down.
"How far?"
"Just a few more minutes Teresa,"
"I'm so cold," she whispered.
"I know, I know, you're going to be fine." He said soothingly.
"How can you be so sure?" She whispered again shaking.
"Because you have to be."
"That's not a very good reason."
He paused slightly. "Yes it is,"
"Patrick?" He noted the use of his first name.
"Yes." He replied, keeping his tone steady and even.
"Please don't make me go to hospital."
He sighed, damn her, "We'll see."
"I just want you to take me home," she begged, crying.
The soft, helpless tone in her voice hurt him so badly, "How about I take you home first, then we'll see." It was only a few blocks away, then he could assess her and decide whether she needed hospital treatment or not.
"Ok. Are you nearly here?" She asked, trying not to sound desperate.
"Very nearly, I think I'll be near you very soon, can you see car lights yet?"
"Ummm… yes, there, there."
"I'm going to hang up now, ok?"
"Ok," she said softly. And the line went dead.
"Lisbon? Lisbon?" His voice yelled, finally showing the fear and worry he'd been feeling all this time.
"Over here," she tried to shout, holding her phone up so the light from it would show him her location.
He saw her phone and ran over to her, he could see her, knees clutched to her chest and lying on the cold floor.
"Jane," she whispered, her voice flooded with relief.
He couldn't speak, he just looked at her. And it broke his heart. Her beautiful, normally bright and shining green eyes were filled with pain and fear. And helplessness. She was soaked through, shivering and crying silently.
Finally coming to his senses, he spoke, "I'm here now,"
"Patrick…"
"Shush, don't speak." He gently tucked some hair behind her ear, and pressed a finger to her freezing cold lips.
"I'm going to carry you to the car,"
"You don't need to do that…"
"Come on, this will be quicker, and then I can get you home."
"Ok." She said, not bothering to put up a fight.
He put a hand under her back, and saw her flinch. "It's ok, it's me I'm not going to hurt you."
She just nodded.
He put his other hand under her and she flinched again, he didn't comment – he knew it was normal after…. After what she'd been through.
He pulled her up, she was light as a feather her form in his arms was so small, so petite and delicate. Her t shirt was ripped open, showing her bra and bare some bare stomach. The skin was such a pale white in contrast to the dark, cruel red cuts and deep purple bruising. He could feel the familiar anger swelling up inside of him, except this time it was fresh. He wasn't used to it.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"What?" He asked, stunned.
"I'm sorry, for making you come out here"
"You have nothing, to be sorry about, do you hear? Nothing. I'm just glad you called me, instead of being stubborn and insisting on doing everything yourself."
"Yeah, well the thought had crossed my mind…" she said wearily.
"Sorry, you shouldn't talk."
"Fine," she said sighing, and turned her head so it was buried in his chest. He watched her and felt his heart break again.
"Can you stand?" He asked as they reached his car.
"Yeah, I think so."
He gently put her feet down, but still supported her with one arm as he opened the car door.
A few minutes later they were on their way to Lisbon's apartment, they were both silent no words were wanted, nor needed.
When they got there, they were still silent.
As he carried her up, she didn't protest, just was tense but otherwise lifeless in his arms, her eyes shut.
She felt ashamed, embarrassed – and she knew she shouldn't ate least she'd managed to hide that from Jane so far, but he'd realize in her apartment. Maybe she could make him go away… that was definitely wishful thinking.
He found her spare key (damn him), apparently it was obvious.
When they got in, he laid her down on her couch, and sat on the floor beside her.
"Go away Jane," she said hiding her face and trying and failing to make it sound like she was in control.
"I wouldn't consider that as an option, even if you weren't still crying and attempting to hide it." He said, but softly, not in a taunting way like he sometimes did.
"Please," she said her voice cracking,
"Look at me," he said, "please"
She turned, but avoided his eyes.
He sat, and searched her gorgeous tear stained face, "You shouldn't be ashamed,"
Damn him, she tried so hard to stop crying, but it seemed the harder she tried the faster the tears fell. He placed a hand on her cheek, and she flinched, "Sorry," he said, removing it.
"Don't." she whispered.
"Ok," He said, putting it back, but she flinched again, "I'm not going to hurt you,"
"I know, I, I just, I'm sorry it's not me, it's…"
"Shush, I know."
"Do you want to talk about what happened?"
"No,"
"Ok. What do you want? Are you hungry?"
"I've lost my appetite." She said, "But I want to have a shower."
"Ok. But you should eat something."
"If I promise I'll eat something will you go?"
"No,"
She sighed, "You're not gonna leave are you?"
"Look at you, what do you think? Are you still cold."
"I'm a bit better, but, I want to shower, I feel, I feel dirty," she admitted,
"Don't be embarrassed," he said, looking into her eyes, "come on, I'll help you up,"
"Ow," she said, and Jane quickly supported her other shoulder, "My ankle's a bit sore."
"I'll take a look after you've had your shower." He said looking down at her still tearful eyes.
"Come here," he said opening his arms, "It will help," he said softly.
He very, very gently wrapped his arms around her. She flinched, and tensed up.
"It's me, you're safe."
"I know," she whispered.
She relaxed a little.
"See, you're doing great."
And a bit more.
Bit by bit until she was completely relaxed, pressed into Patrick Jane's safe, warm arms.
And she cried.
"That's it, let it out," he coaxed, it was good to cry, it was unhealthy to bottle emotions like that up.
She sobbed till her body was shaking in his arms, but he just held her tight.
"You safe," he murmured.
And she did, for the first time in the last couple of horrific hours, she felt safe and secure.
"If you tell anyone about this I'll shoot you," she managed to get out in between sobs.
He smiled just a little, his Lisbon was definitely still there.
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