Hey Everyone! Here is the new chapter! I would like to thank all of you for reading the story, and every single one of you who wrote me even a tiny little review! You are so amazing! I tried to answer all of you… And I truly hope that you realize how much it means to me that you read my story, and even more if you take time to review! :) You guys make my days better and my life so much brighter!
Now, this chapter haven't been corrected yet, I just wanted to update it today… Of course, I will change the chapter to the corrected version once my beta sends it to me, and I tried to check for mistakes myself. Though I can't guarantee that there aren't any errors in it, and I apologize for them, and also thank you in advance for your understanding!
So, onto the chapter, I really hope you will like it! (Be warned, it's angsty!) :)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own The mentalist…
"Jane!" my voice was rasp, unfamiliar to my own ears. Even though the room was deadly silent, I didn't know how he heard it, because it was nearly inaudible. But his head snapped up instantly, his eyes racing over my body until finally, he settled on my face.
Now that I could get a glimpse of his face, I saw the trails of tears on his cheeks, his blue eyes puffy, his face worn out.
However, the moment he looked at me, his eyes glimmered with joy and relief. There was a huge amount of hidden regret and guilt in the back of them, but for that second, he was happy.
He pulled his chair as close to my bed as he could, and not bothered about the infusion tube, he gently grabbed my hand.
"Lisbon, thank God you're awake..." he murmured and bent his face, so he was hovering right above me. My heart beating shot up to the sky, and much to my embarrassment, the machines recording my signals were showing it too. Jane didn't notice though, or if he did, he didn't let me know. He just leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on my right cheek. It was too far from my lips to consider it a missed shot, and I gave him a little smile, trying to hide my disappointment.
"You okay?" I asked, still having a hard time forcing out a normal sound.
He chuckled darkly, swaying his head.
"You were shot in the side because of me, you almost didn't make it, and still here you are, asking if I am okay..."
"Jane..." I whispered, chiding him for thinking like that, and also pushing him to say that he was all right. I needed to hear it.
"Of course I'm fine! I worried myself sick for you, but apart from that, I'm perfectly fine." he stated, guilt shimmering in his eyes.
"It's not your fault!" I told him calmly, but I saw that it did nothing to convince him. "You didn't pull that trigger!" I tried again.
"No, but you were there because of me!" he said bitterly.
"No, I was there because I made the decision to go there, and save your ass! Seems like I succeeded..." I smiled lightly.
"Yeah, and it almost cost your life!" he shut his eyes closed in horror.
"I think it was worth it..." I whispered softly.
His eyes opened and I saw his pained look. Maybe I should delay trying to convince him that he was no way guilty in this!, I decided.
"Did my bullet kill him?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Who?" he asked back, completely caught off guard by my question.
"Who? Red John... Who is the only one I could talk about?" I teased him, but had to find out it was a bad idea, after his face fell more. There was something wrong, and I felt it. Seeing his tensed shoulders gave me a weird concern.
"Your shot killed that guy all right, but he wasn't Red John, my dear." he shook his head simply, and for a moment I thought I would pass out.
"What?" I asked sharply "What do you mean it wasn't him?"
"It wasn't. He sent there one of his 'friends'..." he muttered coldly, his face stern.
"But...I don't understand. He said he was Red John..." I just couldn't believe that this all was for nothing. Or almost nothing.
"Yeah, and so what? Timothy Carter claimed to be Red John too, and I believed him, yet he wasn't."
"But... How do you know?" I asked, unconvinced by his words. I felt like he wanted to deny that it was him and it angered me. Why couldn't it be Red John? Why couldn't it be over already?
I suffered, I fought, and I pulled that trigger with the thought that it was finally over. Whether I lived to see it, or not, Jane would be saved and this whole Red John crap would be over!
And now I had to accept that it wasn't even him. Jane better gave me a pretty damn good reason to believe it...
"First of all, if he were Red John, he wouldn't have left your gun down there with me, when he dragged you upstairs. Then he wouldn't have left it in the kitchen when he took me outside. If he was Red John, he wouldn't have missed his shot, and we would both be dead by now."
I stared quietly into the air in front of me. He was right. It couldn't have been Red John. The plan seemed perfect, the whole tea drinking and torturing part... Completely suited Red John. But now that I thought about it, this guy just wasn't paying enough attention. He didn't think about me standing up and jumping to the door, and that's why he never locked it in the first place. And the kitchen was full of knives, he should have thought about that too...
My eyes watered again, tears burning their ways until I couldn't hide them anymore. My physical pain was getting stronger and I was just so tired. This all was so frustrating, and I wanted some time away from it. I wanted it so badly. Just a few minutes when I wasn't thinking about Red John, or death, or pain, or the sound of two shots and the following panic, that what if I missed my shot! I couldn't think about anything else though, I couldn't simply drift away and have some peace in my own bubble... There was no bubble. This was the harsh reality, and I had to deal with it.
"Don't cry..." I heard Jane's smooth voice muttering and for a moment I let myself believe that his tone was my bubble. I bathed in his voice, the gentleness in it, until I could, but when the silence grew too long and I was still crying I knew it wouldn't work.
"Why couldn't it be him? I thought it was finally it. That it was over..." I sniffled and my voice was dripping with disappointment. I didn't say it why I wanted it to end so much, but I was sure Jane had his guesses.
"We will get him, I promise. Though, Lisbon, this is not your fight. You have to stay out of it!" he said and though his hand squeezed mine in a comforting way, his words just shut me out.
"It's my fight too." I muttered the words, and he stood up. When I looked at him with a surprised expression, I saw a dark flash of anger and guilt in his eyes. His forehead wrinkled and he twisted one of his hands with the other helplessly.
"It can't be!" he hissed and stepped away from my bed. I felt lonely and abandoned in that second, and I just wanted him back.
I let out a few new tears before I wiped my eyes, and that's when he broke. He shook his head and backed to the door. I wanted to shout at him, plead with him to come back and don't leave me alone, but he already turned and had his hand on the doorknob.
"I'll let the guys know you woke up. They were in the waiting room since you've been brought in. They are worried, and probably can't wait to see you..." he said, still having his back to me, speaking like that. He waited for another second before he left the room.
I took a breath to calm my ragged breathing before my team members would arrive. My side was stretching and burning and I looked around, searching for that little button I knew would be there somewhere next to my bed. I found it quickly, and I pressed it, giving myself a bit of painkiller. One thing I learned from last time I had been shot, is that never ever let the pain be so strong that you can't think straight, before you take the painkiller. I tried to be so tough back then, never taking the painkillers, and it was living hell! I was not going to do it again...
Then my attention swiftly got distracted when I heard a soft knock on the door, and my team entered, one by one. I watched them as they all walked in, Jane was the last, staying behind. My heart melted at the sight of my agents, all so caring about my well being. VanPelt's eyes were red and she still looked shaken. She sniffled when our eyes met, but she sent me a warm smile.
Rigsby had a bouquet of flowers in his hands and he was standing next to the redhead, supporting her. His eyes were worried as he watched me.
Cho, my always so cool agent, had the most fearful expression on his face that I've ever seen from him. His eyes were sparkling with emotion, and I felt like crying again, because they were all here, just for me. I was so lucky to have them...
My pain long forgotten, I let a genuine smile spread on my face and I waved them closer. VanPelt was the first one to move as she came to me, and she held my hand in hers.
"We were so worried, Boss. And, I'm so sorry I went home...I should have stayed..." she muttered, a deep blush coloring her cheeks.
"Grace, don't you ever think about that. Even if you didn't go home, you couldn't have been with me. I sent the guys away too... And I'm fine now, so there is no need to worry!" I told her firmly, and when she looked into my eyes I heard her thankful exhale. I just couldn't believe how could she blame this on herself...
She then sat down next to my bed on a chair, and turned her head towards the boys. Her eyebrow raised expectantly, and I repressed a chuckle as I saw Rigsby's resigned shrug. The man stepped closer and self-consciously cleared his throat.
"I'm glad you're okay, Boss!" he stuttered, then put the flowers on my bedside table.
"Thank you Rigs, the flowers are beautiful!" I smiled at him, happy to see his shoulders relax.
At last, I looked at Cho. Seeing him reminded me of my weird hallucination, or God knows what. I knew he wasn't the man of words, but I also saw in his eyes just how much he cared. The small wince on his face told me what he was feeling, and I felt tears in my eyes again. I was so... Touched. By their concern, by their hope and trust in me.
My train of thought was cut off when Cho stepped to the end of my bed, and put his hand on the railing above my leg.
"You should have called for back up!" he said professionally, a stoic mask now on his face. But his eyes gave him away, the hidden meaning behind his words clear.
I grinned and nodded. That was fair.
"I'm happy that you are fine, though..." he muttered, and my smile widened.
"Thanks Cho, I'm happy to see all of you too!" I said and I looked at them. My team. My loyal, brave, badass team. I was lucky indeed...
Then I glanced at Jane, but he was busy staring at his feet. Avoiding any contact with the people in the room.
Well, at least he was there. I could just talk with him a bit later. When the effect of the painkiller wasn't clouding my brain, and the rest of the team wasn't in there with us, chatting and trying to entertain me.
I just hoped he wouldn't flee and shut me out, but give me the opportunity.
Almost an entire week passed by without me acknowledging it. I spent my days reading and doing my physical therapy. I was still in hospital, but my doctor told me I would get released in three days.
My team stopped by every day, bringing me sweet little nothings, that I was so grateful for. Jane spent most of his afternoons beside my bed, and was happy to accompany me in my short walks around the hospital, when I was healed enough to go. He sometimes sneaked in some coffee or chocolate for me. The first few nights he argued with the nurses, until they let him stay in my room, and he sat beside my bed all night long.
But never once did he let me bring up that sensitive subject. He was there with me, babbling about everything he saw or heard of that day, filling me in on the latest case, or just telling me the newest rumour in the CBI. But he didn't even mention that night, let alone those fateful words he whispered to me. The words that made me want to fight for my life even harder.
And it was driving me nuts. Every moment that I was alone, my thoughts went back to that night. And I wondered why did he say those words. I could hear he meant them. Or didn't he? I didn't know what to do, should I confront him about it, or just tell him how I feel, or forget it- not that I could ever do...
Some nights I woke up, covered in sweat, panic rising in my chest and a scream threatening to burst out of me. Those were the worst times, the hardest to understand why Jane is so determined to deny what he said. Those nights I wished he was there with me, holding me close to him, loving me just as he said.
And one day, when he sauntered in my room without knocking, his trademark grin lighting up his features, I couldn't let him avoid the subject anymore. Before he could start his usual review of the day, I sat straighter up in my bed and fixed my searching eyes on him.
"Jane, why are you doing this?" I asked him seriously while he sat down into his usual seat next to me.
"What? Visit you? I thought you needed some company besides the lovely nurse and your doctors. Also, I don't have anything else to do..." he said lightly.
"You know what I mean..." I scowled.
"I have no idea, dear!" he held up his hands in surrender, but I saw the gleam in his eyes.
"Why are you avoiding so much to talk about what you said? About what did you mean?" I asked, deciding not to beat around the bush.
"When?" he still played the know-nothing.
"That day, when that guy shot me. Just before I fainted..." I said, unresponsive to his confused mask.
"What did I say?" he asked innocently, and I sucked in a sharp breath as déja vu hit me with the force of an elephant.
"Oh no Jane! You don't get to do that again! No, not right now, not like this..." I snapped, my voice raising with each word.
"Lisbon..." he muttered, his pretend falling apart as pain slipped into his voice.
"You said you loved me..." I said harshly, my tone dry and I found myself unable to look away from his eyes. Jane swallowed before he opened his mouth to speak.
"I did?" he asked, still intending to act like he didn't remember.
"Yeah." I nodded, with the hope in my heart that for once, he would take responsibility for his words and be honest with me.
"I guess I could have said that." he admitted and my eyes widened. My heart fluttered and I fisted a handful of the sheet in my hand in anticipation. "I mean, you are my best friend Lisbon, and I care about you. I suppose that's why I said it, to reassure you of my friendship and to let you know that you can not die and leave me alone." he said and fresh tears welled up in my eyes. My lungs closed up and I fought with the lump in my throat. "I don't know what you thought, how else could I mean it?" he raised his eyebrow and it felt like he was mocking me.
"Yeah, how else..." I murmured and blinked back my tears. I lay back on my pillow, feeling like a puddle of mud. My heart shattering into tiny pieces in my chest. The rejection hurting me much worse than any physical pain could be. "Jane? I'm really tired. Could you leave me alone, please?" I forced out softly, normally like he didn't just crush me with his words. I didn't look in his way though, my eyes on the ceiling above me.
I was on the verge of sobbing, but I wouldn't let it out until he was there. I wouldn't let him see my misery...
"Uh, yes, of course!" I heard his voice, and the creak of his chair as he stood. Then his steps sounded before he opened the door. "Bye Lisbon!" he said and exited.
I pursed my lips together, and when I heard the click of the closing door I let my tears flow down my cheeks uncontrollably.
I curled into a ball on the bed, my arms sneaking around my sides, hugging myself as I shook violently. My eyes were hurting from my salty tears, but I couldn't stop them, they kept rushing down my face to disappear onto the pillow, or the blanket.
My wound was stretched in this position, the ache was unbelievable. I couldn't care less though, it crossed my mind, that it would be better just to die.
I wasn't sure my life was worth living like this. These slaps from the iron hand of life were my reminders not to hope, not to fall in love...
Mostly not with the wrong guy. I seriously didn't know what was I thinking, falling for Patrick Jane when I was completely aware of the fact that he wouldn't feel the same way. That my attraction to him couldn't be mutual.
I ignored it so long, repressed my feelings for him, that it became a built up, daydream world for me. A world where I could hope, that one day he would try to move on, and that on that day maybe he would see me.
But it seemed like I could never wake up from this Red John nightmare. And over the years, this hunt became more intense, more dangerous. And as Jane got more and more determined to catch the killer, and Jane and I got closer together, somehow this became my fight too. Only, I wasn't fighting for his revenge, but for the idea that maybe once this was over he would try to move on, that I would have a chance...
Well, a girl can dream, right?
I should have expected to eventually fall. It was inevitable. After all, why would Patrick Jane see anything more than a friend in me? And I felt so bad for even wanting him to see me differently. Why couldn't I be happy with what I've got? Why did my stupid heart swell and flip every time he smiled at me, or accidentally touched me...?
I was breathless, gasping for air while my sobs bubbled out, escaping my mouth unstoppably. The ends of my hair was getting wet from the tears, my pillow soaked.
My eyes were squeezed shut, and I willed my brain to stop throwing images, and thoughts at me.
I didn't want to think. Or move. Or be aware of the world around me. I wanted to stop feeling altogether.
I didn't want to hear his rejecting words in my mind over and over again, the lethal way he pushed me away without even noticing.
No, that is not right. He noticed all right, that something was wrong, he just didn't know what.
I just sank deeper into my sadness with every passing second, and I ended up crying myself to a restless, fuzzy sleep.
This was it! What do you think? Good? Bad?
Please please tell me your opinion, and write me a small review! I tend to get really worried that some of you don't like what I write sometimes… So every single word you write makes me happier!
I just happen to be in a horrible writer's block, and I can't for the life of me figure out what the next story should be about. This story will end soon, I think there are 2-3 more chapters, and I really would like to write something else, but inspiration just keeps avoiding me. So, if anyone has any idea… Anything specific, or just the type of story you would like to read, I would be happy to read your thoughts!
Thank you again for reading, and you know how much I would love to hear your opinion about this chapter! So please review! It would definitely make my day happier! :)
I will try to update the next chapter soon, and for those of you who has been craving some fluff (okay, okay I was craving it too!) it will be a really good chapter! So, romantic fluff coming in the next chapter! :)
Until then, xxx