She's stood besides Jane plenty of times, but this time something's different and she just can't put her finger on it; well, besides the fact that its dark.
It's so dark in fact she can't see anything, so, if she can't see anything, then how does she know she's next to Jane?
That's when everything shatters and blooms into color, the first thing she see's is the wooden floors bathed in a golden light coming from a half-dead light bulb in the hall. The second thing she see's is the always recognizable sight of blood, the third, is Patrick Jane holding a body and sobbing, silently, but hysterically.
The fourth thing she see's is her own face, which is pale, cheek bones dusted with smeared blood; eyes wide and glazed over, staring up at the ceiling, a soft smile on her face.
Her breath hitches at the sight and panic floods her chest, she staggers backwards, beginning to hyperventilate; when suddenly she's standing the same spot she was before, breathing calmly.
"Teresa," A voice says from behind her, closer to where Patrick Jane crouches.
She turns slowly, her hand going to her hip on instinct; she feels panic once again as her fingers brush over where her gun should be.
A beautiful woman stands a few feet back; just behind Patrick. Wearing a blue blouse with incredibly detailed sun flowers splattered in places, and dark blue jeans. From where Teresa stands she can see the woman has freckles dusted along the bridge of her nose, her hair is a dirty blond and her eyes are a dark brown.
At the woman's side stands a child (who is currently staring at Patrick); with the same brown eyes but her hair is a light blond, locks made up of thick curls, she holds her mother's hand and as she looks away from Jane she casts a small smile at Teresa.
"Teresa," The woman repeats softly.
"W-who are you?" Stutters the woman in question, the woman in the blue blouse blinks; her face a calm mask when she speaks again.
"I'm Angela Jane; I believe you know my husband." She answers softly, her gaze moving to Patrick and with her free hand she gestures to small child at her side, "This is Charlotte."
As she speaks the vision of the child morphs and changes to a teenager; still the same blond hair but instead of the curls in her hair being tight they've loosened; her eyes are the same sharp blue as her fathers, and this time she's dressed in a purple plaid button up, with a pair of jean shorts.
She rolls her eyes and drops her mother's hand, "Honestly mom, you don't need to introduce me." She looks away from her mother to Teresa, "It's an honor to meet you." She says, moving to extend her hand, only to step back a moment later, her hand dropping back to her side.
"But – you, you two are dead." Teresa says softly.
Angela nods, "And so are you."
"I figured that out," Teresa comments, glancing towards Patrick Jane at her right; who's clutching her body and sobbing, for a moment the noise fills her ears and her breath hitches, she feels tears of her own prickle at the corner of her eyes and despair fills her chest at sound.
It stops abruptly and she's left with the visual, "Oh god –"She begins to say, a hand fluttering up to her mouth, she presses the backside of her hand against her lips and sucks in a breath.
From the corner of her vision she see's Angela tilt her head ever so slightly.
Guilt blossoms in her chest; pushing back the horror, guilt at the thought that she's left him alone for good, that she can't be beside him and help him through the death of the man who ripped apart his life, and the second one he'd begun to build; the second life they could have built together.
"You couldn't have done anything, Reese." Charlotte says softly.
"We all have to leave sometime." Angela continues.
Her hand rips away from the back of her mouth and smacks against her side fiercely and her gaze snaps from Jane to his family, "So – so now what? I just leave him too?" She snaps; she expects looks of hurt to fade into their expressions, and she's surprised when it doesn't; when the looks on their faces remain calm and even, if not a little sad.
Charlotte tilts her head back slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You can stay." She offers, her mother glares at her as she speaks but she ignores it. "You can stay with him, for a bit, watch over him." She clears her throat and glances downwards at her father after she speaks.
Teresa pauses, letting the words sink into the back of her mind, and she inhales and glances at Angela, "Did you stay?" She asks.
His wife shakes her head, "I had other things to watch over," She glances at Charlotte as she speaks who lets out an irritated puff and shakes her own head, her gaze staying on her father. She turns back to Teresa, "But I would have if I could." She adds.
Teresa frowns, and looks at his daughter, "When you say stay, what does that mean?" She asks.
"Just like what it sounds, you stay with him, watch over him, watch him live is life."
She thinks about it, she wonders if she could do that; be with him, be around all her friends, and the people she loves and never be able to say a word, never be able to influence a single thing.
"Would he be able to see me?" She asks.
"That's up to you." Answers Angela.
She considers it, she turns this new thought inside and out; she could stay with him, watch him live his entire life, or talk to him whilst doing it; that thought, is rather disturbing because she knew it would drive him mad, it would torture him, being able to talk to her and only doing so when they were alone.
"And if I don't stay?" She asks.
"There's a woman waiting just around the corner for you." Angela answers; she gestures to the door way as she speaks, and Teresa can make out another silhouette just beyond the half-dead light bulb.
It's her mother.
"Will I be able to see him again?" She asks, Angela crosses her arms. "If you leave now, you will never see him again, even after death. If you leave now, he will die, and he will come with us."
"And if I stay with him, what happens when he dies?"
"Oh, he'll go with you, and the rest is up to you, who you see after, where you go, it would all be up to you Teresa."
She shifts in her spot, considers her choices, but even as she does that she knows what she's already decided. "I'll stay with him." She says.
Angela graces her with a smile and nods, and begins to turn away, walking from the room.
Charlotte remains though. "Teresa," She says.
"Yes?"
"If you change your mind, about talking to my dad, will, you just…" She trails off and swallows. "Just tell him that I love him?"
She knows that she won't change her mind about being able to talk to him, but she nods none the less.
"Thank you, and, good luck."
"Wait Charlotte," She says and the girl stops, turning around and looking back.
"Tell my mother I'll be right back." Teresa says.
"I will." Charlotte promises and then she's gone; following in her mother's foot steps.
The next thing she knows she's sitting across from Patrick Jane and he's sitting on the edge of an ambulance with tear stains on his face and having his arm stitched up. His crest fallen expression doesn't falter as she settles in front of him.
She stares at him; and she can see him in a new clarity. She can see the broken man before her; she can see the victor, the victim, and the good man he could be.
She can also hear the way his breath hitches with every intake, like he's holding back a sob, but the noise is gone by the time he exhales, only to start again with another breath.
She turns away from him, not bothering to look back at the pathetic excuse for a house behind her; she saw enough of that when she was alive to last a life time. Instead, she looks at Cho; who's staring at one of the body bags with a somber expression about ten feet away, his gaze flickers to the bag besides it and she sees the barely conceleaded rage on his face that follows.
It's easy to see which bag belong to whom then.
She slides down from where she's sitting (a fence post, she realizes) and walks across the yard, over to Cho and stands beside him.
"Don't blame yourself." She says, crossing her arms as she speaks.
He doesn't hear her.
She wonders if she could live like this for the next eighty years or so, her gaze flicks to where Patrick sits and she knows she can; and she'll do it happily for him.
She shifts her gaze to the cars spreading down the dirt road, one skids to a stop and she can hear that the engines still purring as the doors pop open and the rest of her team files out, she watches as Rigsby and Van Pelt stagger towards them, Rigsby finding his feet first jogs over.
"What happened?" He asks, breathless.
"Red John's dead." Cho answers and it hurts her to hear the rage bubbling below the surface as he speaks.
It hurts even more to see the joy on Rigsby's face, because any second now he's going to be grief stricken. "That's – that's great, where's the boss?" He asks. "Where's Jane?" He asks.
Cho doesn't say anything; instead, he bends down and unzips the body bag on the left.
She's a coward, and she looks away as Rigsby realizes that it's her in the second body bag; but she still hears the gnarled noise he makes, and the 'Oh God'.
"Jane is over there." She watches as Cho points to the man in question sitting on the edge of the ambulance; he's crumpled in on himself. "Make sure someone's got eyes on him at all time." He says, it's a command not truly addresses to anyone but instead a general command.
"She's smiling." His voice sounds hollow when he speaks, it cracks as he does, and he inhales sharply, the base of his hand flutters up and presses against his eyes.
"She died smiling." Cho comments, crossing his arms again, she can see the pain clearly on his face, and she feels it reflected in her chest, and it brings own tears to her eyes at how intense it is. "Something she said to Jane." Rigsby inhales sharply.
By then Grace is making her way over, and Rigsby spins around, dashing over to her. "Hey, what is it -"She begins to ask as she sees the pain written across his face, and then her gaze drops, making its way over to the body bags, and landing on her body bag a strangled noise is ripped from her throat in response.
Rigsby doesn't break stride and just pulls her into a hug, and doesn't let go.
Cho turns away from her body, leaving it unzipped and makes his way over to Jane.
She stares at her body.
She thinks of the joy she felt when she died, the content, the peace.
She lifts her hand and pushes the locks of hair from her forehead, and as she does she can hear the echo of laughter in her mind.
"Hey – Hey that's my sandwich!" She hears her own voice shriek, followed by a image of Jane's face with fake horror on it as he turns and runs from the building, her sandwich in his mouth and hands, she hears her own footsteps echo off the floor as she chases after him.
"Oh god..I loved this song." "You love this song?" "Yeah.." "So obviously you wanna dance." She's suddenly pressed against him, holding one of his hands and the other resting on the back of his shoulder, her head leaning into the crook of his neck and they're swaying softly to the music playing in the background.
Suddenly she can feel the sun pressing down on her and the sand underneath her legs as she turns and falls into the bank besides Jane, who pants from where he lays, she rests her arms across the tops of her knees and he blinks, squinting at her as he extends one arm; a hand sliding down one of her own arms and he eventually takes her hand silently.
"Hey – is he gonna be okay?" And all she see's is the white curtain being yanked shut, shielding him off from view; and she feels the panic she did that day as if it was happening for the first time.
"Jane?" Her voice echo's and she can feel the crunch of leaves underfoot, "Jane you out here?" She sighs, "Jane come on!" She increases her pace as she walks, turning a shrub and stomping now as she walks. She turns into the clearing and she sees the lake spread out before her, hears and feels herself whisper, "No" before she plows into the icy cold water and grabs him.
"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."
Her fingers drift across the bruise on her forehead and she can hear muffled voices, muffled scenes playing in the back of her mind.
It's her own memory palace, she realizes; that's what she's viewing.
"I wanna know what your face feels like when you're smiling."
And it's filled to the brim of memories that all focus around him.
She swallows, a hand drifting down to her own cheek. She rubs her thumb across the cold skin; watching the blood smear as she does.
And suddenly she's cold, she can feel the water trickling down her lips as she smiles for the last time, she can feel the way her eyes drifted shut.
Only this time she opens them.
She opens them and shoves up against the dark trash-bag like material surrounding her and she squirms, gasping and heaving for breath and she falls over, smashing into the ground with the movement.
She can hear the sound of rushing footsteps and suddenly she's on her back and she can hear the rest of the bag being unzipped in a rush, there's hands grasping at her and the bag vanishes from underneath her and she's sitting on the ground.
She's alive.
"Someone get a gurney!" She hears someone holler, and she notices distantly that it's Rigsby.
She's moved and she feels something strapped onto her mouth; it's dark again and she can't see anything, but she knows that Jane's standing beside her even if she can't see him.
She hears people speaking, she can't make any off it out though, and she feels someone take her hand.
"Charge!" She hears someone say; and her world shatters into color and she gasps again, struggling to breath.
But she's alive.
AN: I'm sorry if this is grumbled and confusing for anyone, a recap is that Teresa dies, meet's Jane's family, they offer her to go with her mother, or stay with Jane and watch over him. She chooses the latter and begins doing that when she comes in contact with her own body, suddenly comes back to life and it ends there.
I've got a lot of versions of this in my head and it's hard to pick one; one where she does die, and stays dead and watches over Jane for the rest of his life, and then there's this one where she comes back and I don't know where to go with it, because I normally just write one-shots.
Anyway it means A LOT to me for all of you who reviewed and if anyone wants this story to continue I'll continue writing it.