She knocked on Abbott's door and waited for his "come in" to enter.
"Lisbon," he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"
"Uh – I just saw Jane leave," she said, sounding somewhat hesitant. "Do we have a new case?"
"No," he told her, a strange look on his face.
"Oh – it's just – I wondered," she shrugged.
He suddenly leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. "Congratulations again on the D.C. job," he told her.
"Thank you," she answered, although far from looking happy her face contracted into a frown.
"You'll do well," he told her with a small smile.
"I – I hope so. It was a hard decision. I liked working here."
"We'll really miss you, but it's a good career move. And Pike is a good guy."
"Yes," she nodded, although the frown remained on her face. "Yes he is."
She stayed quiet for a moment, but finally lifted her head and looked directly at him. "Uh – is Jane – coming back soon? I need to tell him that I'm leaving."
"You didn't tell him yet?" Abbott asked, surprised. He knew, of course, that Jane knew but was surprised that she wasn't the one who had told him she was leaving.
"No – I – it was hard," she said, sounding defensive. "We've worked together for a long time and – I didn't know how to tell him."
"Mmm," he said. No wonder Jane had been in the state he was. That had to have hurt.
"Do you know – when he'll be back?" she asked again.
"I'm afraid he's gone," Dennis said gently. "He asked for some personal time and I gave it to him. He won't be back for a couple of weeks. He didn't say where he was going."
"But – but I'll be gone by then," she told him, sounding hurt. "How could he just leave like that and not say goodbye?"
"Maybe he felt the same way," he told her gently. Her eyes got big and her face flooded with color. He felt like he had kicked a kitten, although part of him wanted her to feel bad. She had really hurt Jane.
She wanted to cry, but refused to allow herself to do so while sitting in front of her boss. With a tremendous amount of courage she sucked up her emotions and gave him a smile.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you," she said, standing up. "I really appreciate all you've done for me. I've enjoyed working with you."
"Teresa," he stopped and sighed. It really wasn't his place to interfere in the lives of his employees, even when they were acting like fools. "Good luck with everything. And if you decide to change your mind – you're welcome to stay." There – that's all he would say to her but he hoped – for her sake and for Jane's that she would consider it.
"Thank you Sir," she told him, a small and wobbly smile on her face. With that she turned and left the room.
He sighed once more and slowly shook his head. He was thankful he had a wife whom he loved and who loved him. He wouldn't want to be going through what those two were for the world.
Teresa slowly walked back towards her desk, not sure how to feel. Part of her was numb – but she expected that would wear off soon and then she'd be – what? Angry? Hurt? Sad? Relieved?
She suspected it wouldn't be that last one, although part of her wished for it.
"Jane," she whispered to herself. "What the hell are you doing?"
What he was doing, at that precise moment, was driving out of Austin. He had no idea where he was going – wasn't even thinking of a destination. All he knew was that he hurt and he had to get away. Maybe distance would lessen the pain in his heart. Maybe if he didn't see her anymore, didn't watch her at her desk, didn't hear her say "Jane" in that tone of voice, his heart would heal and he would go on.
Except he knew that wouldn't happen.
He didn't often spend a lot of time thinking about himself. For years he had hated who he was, what he had done, so the less time thinking about himself the better. But he wasn't stupid and he wasn't unaware. He knew that he wasn't a person who opened himself up to other people, who trusted, who loved. He'd been raised by a selfish, egotistical father who taught him to trust only in himself and to love no one.
Fortunately, he had enough of his mother in him that that lesson had stuck only partially. In fact, he had craved love and had looked for someone he could trust and someone who would love him in spite of himself.
He had found that person in Angela Ruskin. He had known her practically all his life but as she grew up he had realized that the little girl who had followed him around, had turned into a beautiful woman, both inside and out.
He'd been so very lucky that she had loved him, no matter how worthless he was. But he had thrown that love away – that, and the love of his innocent daughter – through his arrogance and pride.
And then, even though he hadn't deserved it, he had found love again. He had found another beautiful woman who stuck with him through all the stupid, reckless, cruel things he had done. The only problem was – this time, this woman didn't love him back.
He barely noticed the tears that had escaped his eyes and were running down his face. All he knew was that he had to leave – to flee – to run away from the pain that was building.
He couldn't do this again. He couldn't live through the hurt, the agony, the loss. Who was he without Teresa by his side, protecting him, standing up to him, pushing him, demanding that he be the man she believed in.
Without her, he was nothing. He was just Patrick Jane – former psychic, former conman, former husband, former father – and now – nothing.
He continued to drive, knowing deep inside, that there really was nowhere to run. The pain was following closely – staying beside him and in him every mile that he drove.
"Damn him, damn him, damn him," she muttered, slamming the paper on the table.
"What's up?" Cho stood beside her desk, looking down at her with a frown.
"Jane," she said shortly.
"What did he do this time?" Cho asked, an eyebrow raised in question.
"He left," she told him, without further explanation.
"He left? Where did he go?" Cho was confused so Jane must not have said anything to him. That made her feel slightly better.
"He left on personal business," she told him, putting air quotes around the personal.
"Really? I didn't know he had any personal business."
"Oh – he's leaving because of me," she said angrily. "He's mad that I'm leaving."
"He told you that?" Cho asked, sounding surprised.
"No – he didn't say anything to me, anything at all. I just found out from Dennis."
"I – see," Cho said slowly, looking at her closely. "So he didn't take the news of your leaving well?"
She shrugged. "Obviously not."
"But – what did he say, when you told him." He decided not to tell her that he was the one who had let the cat out of the bag. He was sure, however, that she would tell him soon – or that Jane would ask her about it.
She appeared uncomfortable and avoided looking at him. She fiddled with her papers and then finally glanced up – and down again as quickly. "Uh –I didn't,"
"You didn't – what?"
"Tell him," she admitted with a defiant look.
"You didn't tell him you were leaving?" he asked her. "But you told everyone else days ago."
"I know. I was an idiot – but it was hard."
"He was hurt," Cho said, and it was a statement, not a question. He'd known Jane for a lot of years and had seen how much the man had been wounded by her silence.
"Probably," she agreed. "I was going to tell him today but – now he's gone."
Cho sighed and wished suddenly that Grace and Wayne still worked with them. As nice as Abbott and Wylie were, they weren't the family that they had had in Sacramento.
"Call him," Cho suggested. "Tell him you're sorry and why it was so hard to tell him. He'll probably come back."
"I tried," she told him. "His phone isn't working, or he has it off."
"Email," Cho said shortly.
"It seems so – impersonal."
"Better than not saying anything. Look Teresa," he finally decided to be blunt. "You're the one who hurt him and I think you're the one who has to fix this. I can't say as I blame him for leaving. He didn't deserve this." With that Cho turned and walked away. It wasn't often that he liked to interfere in his friend's lives – but this time he was totally on Jane's side.
Teresa now felt guiltier than ever. Why the hell hadn't she told him? She should have invited him out for coffee and explained. She should have told him first!
Why the hell had she decided to even go to D.C. She stopped herself there, and took a deep breath. She'd been over this a hundred times already and had finally made the decision. She wasn't about to go back on that now.
But what to do about Jane? God – how could she have fucked this up so royally?
