It had been three days since they'd found Jane and in that time he'd regained consciousness a few times, but hadn't yet responded to anyone. He'd simply opened his eyes, stared for a few seconds and then had fallen back asleep.
Teresa was terrified that the head injury had caused permanent damage, even though the doctors kept telling her it was too early to tell. They reminded her that he'd been badly hurt, had lost a lot of blood and had had major surgery. Although she heard what they said, she had a hard time believing them.
The others – Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt – all tried to encourage her, but she could tell they were as worried as she was. Grace more often than not started to cry every time she saw Jane. Rigsby would try and say something positive but usually ended up saying exactly the wrong thing. And Cho – well Cho didn't say much of anything.
Teresa kept talking to Jane, telling him things she'd never say to him if he were conscious. She told him about her childhood – about her father and his drinking, how she felt when her mother died, her guilt over leaving home and leaving her brothers. She also talked about her work as a law enforcement officer and her struggle to get ahead as a woman in a male-dominated profession.
As each day went by, however, she grew more and more convinced that they'd lost the Jane they'd known and the thought terrified her. She couldn't lose him – he had become too important to her, to all of them.
"Hey boss," Grace interrupted her dark thoughts and Teresa looked up from beside Jane's bed, relieved to have someone to distract her.
"How's Jane?"
"The same," Teresa told her. She took a deep breath and smiled at her teammate and then quickly changed the subject. She didn't want to dwell on Jane's lack of progress. "How are things at the CBI?"
"Okay," Grace smiled but shrugged. "They're having the hearing about Cho tomorrow, but his union rep says there shouldn't be a problem. The disciplinary board has heard all the evidence and according to his lawyer isn't going to push for any action against him. The word is they believe the shooting was warranted."
"Thank heavens," Teresa said. "And how are you and Rigsby doing?"
"We're fine," Grace shrugged. "Just missing the team being together." She glanced over at the still unconscious consultant. "He's not doing any better," she finally asked?
"The nurse said his vital signs have improved and the brain scan looked good, although the doctor says it's still impossible to say if and when he'll come out of this. He said they won't really know anything until he regains consciousness completely.
"Poor Jane," Grace said, looking at the pale looking man in the bed. She stood silently for a few moments, biting her lip. Finally she took a deep breath and turned towards her boss. "Uh Lisbon, I did something," she grimaced, "and I hope – I hope it's okay." Grace looked down at a bag she was carrying, a worried look on her face.
Teresa regarded her curiously. "What did you do?"
"Well – you know that doll? The one Jane had on the beach."
"Yes, of course. By the way, what happened to it?" Teresa asked suddenly.
"Uh – you gave it to me, remember? Well, I took it home and was looking at it and it made me feel so awful for him." Grace fidgeted a moment and looked down at the unconscious consultant. "He seems to be so happy most of the time that sometimes it's easy to forget what happened to him, what he must still be going through. When you gave me that doll – and when I realized it belonged to his daughter I couldn't help but feel terrible."
"I know – I felt badly too," Teresa whispered softly
"And then I saw how dirty it was, and it had a cut in it – which Wayne thinks was from that Zachary guy who tried to kill Jane. And – I thought how awful if Jane has to see it like that." Grace paused. "I mean, it was his daughter's."
"I know," Teresa said gently. "What is it Grace?" She finally asked. "What did you do?"
Without answering, Van Pelt opened the bag and reached in and pulled out a doll. But this doll was wearing a pretty pink dress, her hair was neatly combed and you could no longer see the cut in the plastic as it was hidden by the collar of the dress.
"Is that the same doll?" Lisbon asked incredulously.
"Yes. I washed it up and then took it to my neighbor. She's a really good seamstress and she made a new dress to look like the old one. And then finally I took it to a toy maker, who replaced the hair. The old stuff was falling apart."
"Wow," Teresa reached out and took the doll and regarded it carefully. She had a sudden thought and quickly turned it over and checked for the label. And it was there – the label with the doll's and Charlotte's name was still there.
"I had my neighbor take the label out of the old dress and sew it on," Grace explained. "Do you think – is he going to be angry?" she asked. "I kept all the old things and I can replace this stuff if you think Jane will be upset."
Teresa sighed and looked down at the doll. She didn't think Jane would be upset, although she didn't really know! But she couldn't tell Grace that.
"That was a nice thing you did Grace and I'm sure he'll appreciate it," she told her teammate. "I think we should wait until he's better to show it to him though," She said. She smiled at Grace and then put the doll back in the bag. "Why don't I put it in his nightstand," she said. She opened the small cupboard and put the bag inside. Jane didn't need anything that might upset him.
The two women sat there, talking quietly as Jane continued to sleep. Grace had to eventually say goodbye but Teresa indicated she'd stay. She had barely left the hospital in days, and for some reason felt she had to be there. She had this horrible feeling that if she left, they'd really lose him.
"Come on Jane," she told him quietly after Grace had left. She leaned forward and gently touched his cheek. "Come on, it's time to wake up." When he didn't move she sighed and covered his hand with hers. She then sat and watched him, praying hard that he would soon be better.
She was dozing in her chair, tired from the days of worrying so that, at first, when his hand moved, she thought it was simply part of her dream. When it happened a second time, however, she woke up and looked down at where her hand lay over his. She blinked when she saw his hand move. She then sat forward as it turned and slowly grasped hers. His grip was so weak as to be almost non-existant – but he was trying to hold her hand. She smiled.
"Jane?" she said, pressing his hand to let him know she was there. "It's me, Teresa. Can you hear me?"
There was another small movement of his hand. "That's it! You can hear me, can't you?"
The hand stopped moving and she worried that that was the end of any kind of awareness from him, but a few seconds later his eyes slowly opened.
Like every time before she expected him to stare at the ceiling however this time she was in for a surprise as he eyes slowly turned towards her. He blinked a couple of times, but his gaze stayed steadily on her.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Teresa again squeezed his hand and then smiled fully at him. "That's it Jane! You're here and you're safe. Can you hear me?"
His eyes began to lose focus and she feared that things hadn't changed – that he was simply responding to stimuli, but wasn't really coherent. She wanted to cry and she closed her eyes, not sure whether she could take this anymore.
His hand moved again and her eyes, once more, opened. "Jane? What is it?"
His mouth opened again, and this time she leaned forward, so her ear was close to his mouth.
"Lisbon," he whispered, so silently she almost didn't hear it.
"Yes," she said, sucking in a deep breath. She smiled and squeezed his hand. "It's me. You spoke Jane – that's great."
"Where -" he said, his voice no more than a breath of sound.
"Where? Where are you? You're in hospital, but you're going to be okay. You just need to take it easy for a while and then you'll be back helping us solve cases." She noticed that his eyes were beginning to droop, and only then remembered to buzz for the nurse.
Sure that he was almost asleep again, she was surprised when his eyes opened and he looked at her once more. His lips moved and she bent back down to hear him. "What is it Jane?" she said softly.
"Don't – like -"
"You don't like?" she asked, puzzled. Then her brow cleared and she grinned. "You don't like hospitals?"
He nodded. "Go – home?"
She laughed and reached up and gently moved a curl off of his forehead. "As soon as you're feeling better you can go home Jane, I promise. For now why don't you just sleep and let us look after you."
His eyes grew heavy but he continued to look at her. Finally he gave a tiny nod and let his eyes drift shut. She was sure, though, that his lips were curling up slightly in a smile.
Jane was back.
Of course he didn't just wake up after that and start talking. For the next few days he'd wake up for a few minutes at a time. He usually said one or two words, and then would go back to sleep. The doctor said this was normal, as his body healed, but that he was doing quite well. He seemed to be able to understand when people spoke to him, and the few words he said always seemed to make sense.
Teresa knew he was really coming back the day she walked into the room and Jane was awake, and frowning at the nurse.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully. Jane glanced at her but then looked back at the nurse, a scowl carved deeply into his brow.
"What's going on?" Teresa asked curiously.
The nurse looked at her and sighed. "Mr. Jane is asking for tea. I told him he can't have any yet. His system isn't quite up to it and the doctor doesn't want him to have caffeine at this time."
Jane was now peering at her with a look she knew well. He opened his mouth and before he had a chance to say something cutting, she interrupted. "Could he have an herbal tea – something mild?"
This time the nurse frowned. "I guess – although we don't have anything like that here. It can't have caffeine in it."
"Jane, would you like me to get you some nice herbal tea? I could put a bit of honey in it."
He stared at her, letting her know he knew exactly what she was doing – but the desire for tea – even if it was herbal – must have won out, because he nodded. As the nurse left the room he gave the nurse one last glare.
"Be good," Teresa told him. "The staff are just looking after you and making sure you get better."
"Damned – quacks!" he hissed.
"Jane! Stop that. Those "quack's" saved your life and they're just doing their job. And you don't want to make them mad or else they'll make your life miserable!"
"Not – if you – take me – home," he ground out. He was speaking more clearly now, although it was still difficult for him. The doctor said he'd improve over time, that he was still recuperating from all his injuries.
"You're not ready to go anywhere yet!" she told him directly. "You almost died, so just relax and get better – and be nice!"
"Hmmpf," he puffed, although a second later he gave her a sweet smile. "Hi Lisbon," he said quietly.
"Hi Jane," she smiled at him and patted his hand. "It's nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "Okay – sore. And no tea!" he complained.
"I'll go and get you some in a little while – unless you want me to go now?"
He shook his head and gestured for her to come nearer. She did and reached down and took his hand. "I really am happy you're getting better. You had us worried."
"Hard – head," he told her with a grin. He clutched onto her hand tightly and didn't let go. She wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
She grinned back at with, although she was still worried about him. He had lost weight and was terribly pale. There was also a bruised look around his eyes – something that she was pretty sure was more emotional than physical. What he had gone through would affect anyone – but in his case it must have brought up memories he didn't need.
Charlie Matthews – the criminal who had been captured by Cho – had given them a full statement. In it he told all about what they'd done to Jane – although he claimed he hadn't participated. He even claimed to have tried to help.
So Teresa knew pretty much everything that had happened to him after he'd been kidnapped. What she didn't know what how he got away, and what had happened in afterward.
She then thought back to the doll and him repeatedly asking for his daughter. That memory still haunted her.
"What – happened?" Jane's voice broke into her thoughts and she returned her attention to him. He was looking much more alert today, for which she thanked God.
"You mean – what happened to put you in the hospital?"
He nodded, although this time he grimaced slightly. His head must still be hurting.
"Do you remember any of it?" she asked gently.
He seemed to think for a few seconds and then turned back to her. "Remember – car – being kidnapped?"
"Yes, that's right. For some reason you were just north of Point Mugu, on a deserted lookout when the three bank robbers found you."
"Bank robbers?" he said with a frown.
"Yeah, didn't you know? They'd just robbed a bank in Calabasas and shot and killed the guard there. According to Matthews – he was one of the robbers – they were looking for a place to hide out for a few days when they came across you."
He was frowing slightly, but then he nodded. "I – think – I remember. Charlie, Ed and – and there was another one."
"Zachary Davis."
"Zack," Jane closed his eyes. "Not – a nice – guy," he stumbled over the words, but got them out. "Tried – to – kill me?"
"Zack? Yes, we think so. He had a knife and it was covered in your blood. He'd slashed your chest and arm, but fortunately -" Teresa's voice faded as she wondered if he was recovered enough to hear this.
"What?" Jane was nothing if not sharp, even when recuperating from a head wound.
"Fortunately you defended yourself," Teresa told him. She couldn't help keep the pride out of her voice.
"I – did?" he asked, surprised. "How?"
"You knocked him out with a rock," she told him, watching him carefully.
Jane had to think hard – and go back in time – to remember hitting anyone with a rock. A second later his brow cleared. "Orange!" he said triumphantly.
"Uh – orange?" She wondered if Jane had actually had some permanent damage!
"My rock – size of an – orange. Didn't know if – I could – do anything with it."
"Well you did," Teresa told him, with a strange look.
"He – okay?"
Teresa let out a slow breath. "He's alive," she told him, stopping there.
He observed her carefully, clearly seeing something in her expression. "And?" he asked.
"And what?" her eyebrows went up and she tried to look innocent. But Jane, even a wounded, still ill Jane, could read her.
"And what – aren't you – telling me?"
She sighed. "Nothing really. He is alive, but he's – uh – in a coma. I guess you hit him pretty hard."
Jane frowned. "Don't – remember," he said, closing his eyes. "What are – his chances?"
"They don't know. Jane, don't worry about it. He tried to kill you and you defended yourself. If you hadn't you'd be dead. He's not a nice guy. In fact, he was the one who killed the guard."
Jane nodded slightly, and then grimaced.
"Your head still hurt?" she asked sympathetically.
"Mmm," he replied. "What about – the others?"
"Well, Cho captured Charles Matthews and he's given us all the details. The guy in charge was Edward Bigelow –"
"Ed," Jane interrupted. "Another – mean guy."
"Yes, he was," she answered.
"Was?" he asked, catching the past tense. "What – happened to – him?"
"He's dead," she said gently. "He was going to kill you and Cho shot him."
There was a pause while Jane lay there quietly, his eyes closed. After a couple of minutes he opened them and looked at Lisbon. "Tell Cho – thanks."
She smiled and patted his hand. "Sure, although he's coming to see you later."
"He didn't get – in trouble?"
"No. They had a hearing but it was deemed justifiable. He's back on duty." Teresa was looking closely at Jane and realized that he was looking paler than ever. "You're tired Jane – you need to sleep. I'm going to go and get you some tea but it'll take me a while, so you just rest, okay?"
"Kay," he nodded, his eyes almost shut. She was almost out the door when she heard his soft "thank you – Teresa."
"You're welcome Jane," she said gently. She watched him for a moment, until he was sound asleep. With a much lighter heart than she'd had in days, she smiled and left to find him some tea.
