A/N: Darn school for taking up all my spare time! I REALLY wanted to update, but Latin class has a lot of projects, soooo... It takes some time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jane can see Charlotte staring at Cho, like if she looks hard enough, he'll disappear. He has the urge to chuckle, but he doesn't want to break her out of her concentration. Cho turns around and looks back at her.
"Is there something you need?" he asks in his usual no-nonsense tone. Charlotte is unflinching in her gaze, not intimidated by him like most teenagers would be.
"Do you guys absolutely have to be here at all hours of the day? Won't he find a way to get me anyway?" she asks. Her tone isn't rude; it's blunt and to the point, yet curious. Even Cho, a hardened cop who gives sympathy to no one, seems to feel bad for her because of her situation.
"We're here to protect you," Cho tells her. Charlotte quickly nods and looks away, disappointment etched in her face. Jane hasn't exactly enjoyed the constant company either. All he wants is some time alone with his daughter so they can move past being strangers, but now she can't be alone in a room with him unless they also have Cho or Rigsby nearby. It's frustrating, to say the least, but he'll go to any length to protect his child. Besides, it's not all bad. Charlotte and Rigsby have formed a solid friendship because he acts more like someone her age than a cop his own age. 'Finally, that fact about him pays off,' Jane thinks sarcastically as he reads his book, glancing at his daughter after each paragraph he finishes.
He has noticed lately how much better she looks now that she knows who she is. Her curly blonde hair has grown down to a little bit past her shoulders and she has put on a proper amount of weight. She's still too skinny in his opinion, but she looks healthier. However, the best thing Jane has noticed is the way she glows with happiness and innocence, and the twinkle in her bluish-green eyes. That is the biggest change in her. Whenever he looks at the sparkle in her gaze, he can't help but smile at her. It gives him a warm fuzzy feeling knowing that he's partially the reason the person he loves more than anything in the world is finally happy.
This whirlwind week with Charlotte has been crazy for Jane. He's been acting like everything is normal, giving her some distance so she can readjust back into her life. However, when he's alone, he thinks back to those dark times when he would stumble across some of her old clothes or toys and then sit on the floor, holding the object to his chest and crying for hours about how much he missed her and how he wished he could have seen her grow into a young woman like her friends were so rapidly doing. He wants nothing more than to hug her every minute of every day and spill to her how much he loves her and has missed her. It suddenly strikes him that he has yet to say those words. He hasn't told her he loves her. Maybe, deep down, he's scared of being rejected. After all, she has no memory of those first eight years of her life when Jane raised her and nurtured her.
She doesn't even know anything about Angela other than her name and what her nightmares have told her. Why would she love him? He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable or make her feel like she must respond. She means the world to him. When he looks at his seventeen year old Charlotte, he tilts his head to the side and imagines that eight year old who would run around with boundless energy. It hurts sometimes, knowing he's missed so much of her life. It makes him feel robbed, cheated. It hurts even more to know that her life has been full of pain and hatred.
'I'll make up for it somehow,' Jane thinks determinedly. 'I'll make sure that she never again lives life for anything besides her own enjoyment.'
"What time is it, anyway?" Charlotte asks, yawning tiredly when she finishes her sentence. "I'm exhausted." Jane checks his watch.
"It is 11:00, and probably time for you to get to bed, sweetheart."
He stands up out of his chair and takes her by the hand, leading her to her room. Of course, Rigsby is trailing behind, waiting to search her bedroom to make sure it's safe. It annoys Jane just slightly. He wouldn't dare object to it, though. He wants to take every necessary measure to make sure nothing happens to his little girl, but he just wishes he could be worrying about her falling into the wrong crowd or getting an unsavory boyfriend like every other parent of a teenage girl. But he's not an average parent, and Charlotte's not an average teenage girl.
Jane stops short of the door and looks at Rigsby.
"Just go ahead and check the room. I want some alone time with my daughter after you're done." He still can't shake the joy he feels turning inside him when he says those words out loud; my daughter. A small smile appears on his face and, unbeknownst to him, it actually reaches his eyes. Rigsby does his search, during which Jane stays outside the door with Charlotte.
She rests her head on his shoulder, looking utterly tired. He strokes her curly blonde hair, a few shades lighter than his own. It makes him think of Angela. Her hair was that color, but straight as a board. Charlotte got the curl from him, along with her eyes and some of her personality. The likeable parts of her personality are mostly from his beloved Angie. 'She'd be better at this than I am,' Jane thinks dejectedly. 'She would have been a much better parent than I am.'
"It's safe," Rigsby announces, breaking Jane out of his reverie. Carefully, he helps Charlotte into her room. It's painted a baby blue and decorated to her liking, which also includes some decidedly non-teenage things including Star Wars posters and unique and colorful artwork. Jane sometimes can't believe she turned out to be such a well-rounded individual. Even though he knows that can't take credit for that, it makes him proud to be her father.
Charlotte snuggles under the covers of her bed, still holding Jane's hand. He sits next to her on the bed, tucking her in like she's eight again. He smiles winsomely at the memory of her.
"You know I haven't tucked you into bed for nine years?" She grins at him, squeezing his hand.
"Well, if it helps, you can tuck me in anytime you want to. It feels nice. I can't remember ever being tucked in to bed, probably because I can't remember being a kid below age eight." Jane sighs. He wishes she could remember. He wishes it so badly. Maybe then she would remember how much he doted on her and how much she loved her 'Daddy'. He smiles at her suddenly.
"You're so much like your mother," he blurts out. Of course, she's a great mixture of both of them, but she holds so many of her mother's features. Immediately, she perks up at the mention of this mysterious fixture in her past life.
"What was she like?"
Jane smiles and laughs lightly at her eagerness. Then he sighs. There's so much about Angie that she could never know unless she suddenly remembered her. How could he possibly manage to tell her about this wonderful woman who he hasn't really talked about for years? Of course, he has to try.
"She was… kind. She was kind and gentle and generous. She loved people for everything they were instead of hating them for everything that they weren't. It was peculiar, really. She would hate someone if they purposely hurt other people for their own gain, which is why she hated living the carnie lifestyle. At the same time, she looked past my faults and the faults of her brother and loved us in a way I know we didn't deserve. She was the most amazing woman I've ever known." She looks at him curiously.
"She was a carnie? I'm guessing you were too, weren't you?" He nods.
"We ran away together when we were sixteen. We got married and you came along not that long after. She knew you were going to be a girl right after she found out she was pregnant. Sometimes I swore she was more of a mentalist than I was." Charlotte smiles and looks off into the distance, seemingly trying to picture Angela in her mind. With her light blonde hair, warm hazel eyes, and delicate stature, she's a very easy person to conjure up in your mind. If Jane can't have Angie back, at least he has their daughter.
Jane leans forward and hugs Charlotte, a gesture she surprisingly accepts and responds to by wrapping her arms around his neck while sitting up slightly in her bed. He makes no attempt to break the hug. It still feels good to have his daughter materialized in front of him instead of having to imagine her.
"I love you," he blurts out. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he can feel his eyes widening. He's finally said it, those words he's been agonizing over for weeks. He's never doubted that he loves her, but he doesn't think his heart can take it if she rejects him. At first, there's no response from her, and Jane begins to think the worst.
Then, she whispers, "I love you, too." It catches him off guard, but in a wonderful way. He berates himself for ever feeling nervous in the first place. This is his daughter. Of course, she only has a few weeks full of memories of him while he has years, but he still feels absolutely silly for worrying that she wouldn't say the words back.
Jane reluctantly backs away from the hug so he can leave his exhausted daughter to sleep.
"Goodnight, Charlotte," he says with a small smile on his face.
"Call me Charlie," is her simple response. Jane smiles even wider than before.
"Goodnight, Charlie."
She sighs in exhaustion and gives him a smile back. "Goodnight, Dad." Jane kisses her forehead and leaves the room, keeping the door cracked open and walking back to the living room where everyone is barricaded.
"Hello, everybody. I'm sorry you're here on this beautiful night on account of Charlie and me, but I appreciate the effort. Just look at you all. You're practically bursting from the seams with enthusiasm!" It's a usual Jane-like jab at the haggard team, but this time, it falls flat.
"Charlie?" Cho asks. Jane shrugs.
"It's been her nickname ever since she was little. I just took to calling her that again." Van Pelt gives her usual child-like smile that appears on her face whenever something even mildly heart-warming takes place.
"I think it's a great nickname. It suits her." Jane can't help but agree. It's quirky, yet beautiful, just like his Charlie.
"Alright, everyone, you deserve some sleep. How about calling it a night? I know I'm beat." He yawns for effect and heads to his bedroom before anyone can answer. Of course they'll sleep, but it'll be in shifts. He's not required to take a shift, as he is one of the people who require protection.
He enters the bedroom he once shared with Angela. It's more furnished now, with an actual bed, a dresser, a desk, and a rug. However, the red smiley face made of his wife's blood remains. It's unsettling to Charlie, but she doesn't put up much of a fight when Jane insists it stays on the wall. Maybe he hopes that if it stays, he can hold onto the past. Maybe then he doesn't have to move on, he thinks as he lay on his bed. He wants to move on for Charlie, but with Red John still out there, it's not possible. Besides, he doesn't want to forget about his wife. He'll consider moving on when that man is dead, and only then.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please REVIEW, FOLLOW, and FAVORITE!