Red Silences

Chapter Warnings: Self Harm.

Thank you to Jisbon4ever and krolinette for their lovely reviews and encouragement, as well to all the alerters for this story. I plan to update this story everyday, unless something prevents me from doing so.

Enjoy!


Chapter 2:

Broken

"Hey, can we talk?" Jane glanced at Lisbon from his position on the worn leather couch, his blue-green eyes focused on the dark haired woman who held her arms crossed against her own chest.

"It depends."

"On...?" Jane did not respond, which left Lisbon somewhat annoyed as he just smirked instead. "Jane?"

"Oh, you're still here?" Lisbon gritted her teeth, but otherwise kept somewhat of a small calming smile on her face.

"Jane, my office..." When he did not move, she leaned down and tweaked him on the nose as she had done with the Prescott case. "Now!" Jane grumbled but began to move from the couch to follow Lisbon.

"Dead man walking..." Rigsby uttered, and Lisbon rolled her eyes in mild annoyance-Jane wasn't in trouble, but they needed to talk.

"If you don't stop it, I'll have you on stake duty until you retire." Lisbon snapped, which caused Rigsby to glue his eyes back on the computer screen. The two continued forward into her office, and she opened the door for him to which he stepped forward to sit on her couch and she closed the door behind her, she then crossed the distance to her desk and leaned against the outside of her desk before she peered at Jane. "J..."

"I didn't do anything." He stated, as his eyes gazed upon hers. "I..."

"Exactly." Lisbon interrupted with a frown. "You haven't done anything."

"I thought you'd like that..." Jane began and Lisbon shook her head.

"I do." She said. "I think it's thoughtful that you'd think of me before you pulled any of your half-assed stuff, but I'm worried that things may not be alright." Jane cocked his head to the side, a huge smirk plastered across his face.

"Aw, Lisbon...I never thought I'd see the day that you were concerned about me." Jane cockily responded, he leaned back on the couch and opened his mouth again to say something when Lisbon interrupted.

"You think nobody notices the things you do," Lisbon quietly told him, her eyes focused intensely on him. "It's not hard to see that you've been shutting us all out…"

"I haven't…"

"Don't lie to me," she told him quietly. "I thought you had more respect for me that that."

"I do." Jane defended his self, as he grinned brightly up at the senior agent. "I don't know why you think I'm closing you out; I'm still talking to you and…"

"You haven't gotten us a lawsuit in days."

"Meh," Jane told her. "I just don't feel like being punched in the face…"

"Jane, you've been like this since…"

"Don't." Jane interrupted her, coldly. "I don't want to talk about this, Lisbon."

"Yes, well everyone at some point has to talk about things that they don't want to discuss." She explained, and Jane raised his eyebrow in response.

"Oh, you would know wouldn't you?" Jane asked. "Considering you've been very forthcoming with talking about Bosco, or Hightower…" Lisbon grew silent. "I'm not ready to speak about what happened and…"

"You lied to me."

"What?"

"You heard me, you lied to me."

"No…"

"Oh really?" She asked. "You want to know how I know." He didn't say anything but instead glanced at the floor beneath his feet as she stepped over to her desk and pulled out the evidence bag, which contained the video tape. "You told me he said nothing to you."

"He didn't."

"Now this is just insulting." Lisbon stated. "You know I've got the tape in front of me, you know what the bureau can do to undercover audio and yet you still insist nothing was said?" Jane hesitated before he nodded.

"Yup."

"I…I…" She managed, and he shrugged.

"What does it matter if he says something or not, we're never going to catch him…?"

"It does matter." Lisbon responded. "Justice…"

"Who cares about justice?" Jane asked. "You've recently lost two important people in your life, and you still care about justice?" It was obvious that he found it slightly hilarious. "Do you think Van Pelt or Rigsby would care about justice if it came between them and their romance?"

"There's a difference between office romance and catching Red John." Lisbon remarked and Jane glanced at her.

"Why? Some days I actually believe that there's no difference in either-because both result in an end of something." Jane stated. "I'm sorry Lisbon, but it's not important…" She slammed her fist down on her table, which caused him to stare at her in surprise.

"Do you want to know what I heard the other day?" Lisbon asked which caused Jane to raise his eyebrow at her again in question.

"You probably heard Rigsby…"

"I heard you." Lisbon interrupted, and he blinked. "I heard you, crying." Jane blanched.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did." Lisbon stated. "Unless you weren't the man I fell asleep on top of last weekend." Jane shrugged his shoulders.

"…it must have been someone else."

"Come on, don't do this to us…" he didn't respond, and she continued. "…to me."

"Can I ask you a question?" Jane asked, and she nodded. "Have you ever done something that you know you shouldn't do, but you did it anyway?" She peered at him.

"What did you do?" He glanced around, before he shook his head.

"Nothing…" He shifted in his spot and Lisbon sighed.

"I want you to know that I'm here to help you whenever you need it." She explained. "But…if you're doing something…"

"I'm not." He rushed and she raised her eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He lied, as he stood from her couch. "Thank you Lisbon, I'm perfectly fine now." Lisbon opened her mouth to respond, but he left and her words spilled out into the room.

"You're not fine," Lisbon muttered, her voice only hitting the empty office. "Please stop lying to me."

OoO

Jane let his smile slip as soon as he stepped into his apartment, on most nights-he'd either stay at the CBI or go to his apartment, but if he ever needed the comfort or a reminder of why he still worked with Teresa Lisbon and her unit, he'd end up back in his Malibu home without it's furniture and the red smiley smeared across the walls.

Tonight however, he just needed to be alone especially after his confrontation with Lisbon.

His hand reached for the leather book, and opened it to carefully reveal the knife nestled within its scarlet stained pages; he tilted the book over and the smooth knife fell into the palm of his hand, where he wrapped his large fingers around the dark handle and pulled back the sleeve of his white dress shirt to grant enough room to allow him to lick his own wounds with the silver of the blade.

This is for all the lies, I shouldn't have told.

The blade slid through his soft skin, as if the knife were slicing through melted butter-in fascination, he watched as the blood bubbled from the wound, ran down his arm and stained his fingers as he placed his bloody fingers on the carpet, an impression being left behind; Jane couldn't even remember a time after his wife and daughter's death that he hadn't done something stupid like this to himself.

Sophie had told him that he needed help, but he refused to get that help because nothing was wrong with him.

He let bitter laughter hit the darkness, and his eyes flashed in anger.

This is for what I can't do, this is for what I can't give up.

Another slice, in a different part of his already scarred skin.

Another trail of tears, which would mix with the bloody mess to remain on his clothing, on the floor, on his hands, on the blade...

This is for….

Someone was at his door, and Jane panicked as he thumbed to place the knife back in its spot.

"Jane?"

It was Lisbon, shit.

OoO

Teresa Lisbon stood outside Patrick Jane's door, her black jacket folded in her hands as she waited patiently for the man to answer the door.

"Jane?"

Lisbon heard a soft moan and then a heavy thump behind the door, and without even thinking-she pulled her off-duty gun from her holster and held it in her hand as she kicked the door open with her foot.

"Jane?" Lisbon called again, and when he didn't respond…she rushed forward, and threw her gun on the bed as she came across the sight of her bleeding consultant, a knife jutting out of his abdomen. Lisbon didn't hesitate to pull her phone from her pocket, hold it up to her ear and call 911 as her heart pounded in her chest; how could she not have noticed these things, especially when they were right under her nose?

On their way to the hospital, his heart gave out twice and she held onto his hand for dear life, don't you dare leave me yet.

OoO

They say that waiting is the hardest part, especially when someone you care about is in surgery because of a stupid stunt he pulled. For Lisbon, it's no different especially as she sits in the deserted sterile hospital waiting room at 2 AM in the morning. Jane's been in surgery for more than two hours now, and the doctors aren't any surer of his progress than they were when he had first arrived.

She called the unit, and told them not to come—Jane probably wouldn't be awake straight out of surgery anyway and she doubted that he'd want them to see him like this.

"He's fine." The doctor finally told her, after two more hours of anxious waiting and three more hospital room coffees flowing through her system to keep her wide-awake and alert.

Jane was fine.

He was perfectly fine.

Then she could feel the relief slam her, and as she ran down the hallway to Jane-she didn't realize she was crying, her mascara running down her pallid cheeks, or the fact that she suddenly could breathe again.