A/N: So I sort of backed myself in a corner here plot wise. I thought I had things figured out but I didn't quite think it all the way through. Anyway, long story short, this is what I ended up with. This part ends kind of awkwardly but hopefully the next installment will be better. Thanks again to everyone reading. I'm quite proud of this little fic. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I'm poor, blah blah, Jane and Lisbon, blah blah, OMGWTFBBQ JANE AND LISBON DANCE! *cough* I don't own, blah blah blah...
Part IX
"Here."
Jane takes the steaming hot cup of tea being offered to him.
"Thanks."
Takes a sip.
The older gentleman settles down onto the couch.
"I'm sorry about…"
Jane trails off lamely.
He wants to run.
To be anywhere but here.
"There's no need to apologize."
Jane quietly observes the man sitting across from him.
Much older than he remembers.
Yet still strikingly handsome.
Warm smile.
Grief emanating from eyes of midnight blue.
"I always knew one day you'd be back."
Jane doesn't quite know how to respond.
He doesn't have to.
"I miss them. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about them."
The guilt creeps back.
For being the reason that this man suffers.
Misery.
Shame.
"I don't blame you, Patrick, I don't and neither should you."
Anger.
He can't quite let go.
No matter how much he wants to.
He's held onto it for so long.
The urge to leave is overwhelming now.
He's already done what he came here to do.
"I should go."
The tired eyes on him offer a knowing look.
Nothing else.
Jane sets the cup down onto the quaint coffee table.
Straightens.
Slips the towel from around his shoulders.
Silently heads towards the door.
He wishes he could offer more than just heartache.
"You have to start living your life, Patrick."
The words are firm.
Stops Jane midstride.
One foot out on the porch.
The other still inside.
"It's what they would have wanted."
There's nothing Jane can say.
He wishes he could speak to them.
Just to hear their voices.
To know how they truly felt.
He wishes he could believe that someday he would see them once more.
But he can't.
So like the coward that he is, he walks out the door.
And doesn't look back.
"Thank you for coming by, Teresa."
Lisbon smiles sympathetically at the young woman.
"Don't mention it."
She's the spitting image of her mother.
Beautiful.
Poised.
But she has her father's eyes.
Strikingly blue.
"I just didn't know who else to talk to. Mom is such a mess."
"Give her some time. She loved your father very much."
"I miss him too."
Lisbon can see a little of herself in Alex.
Can feel her pain.
Her need to put the pieces of her shattered life back together.
"Did he say anything to you?"
Lisbon frowns.
"What do you mean?"
"Dad, before he, you know?"
Slowly, Lisbon shook her head.
"Oh, okay."
Disappointment.
She wished she had something better to offer.
"Listen, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me. Anytime."
Alex smiles.
Then unexpectedly, reaches out a hand.
Resting atop of Lisbon's.
"Thank you."
A nod.
"Teresa?"
Looking up, she sees an older, wearier version of a once vibrant woman in the doorway.
"Amanda."
Somewhat startled, Lisbon removes her hand from beneath Alex's.
Stands.
"What are you doing here?"
There's a slight edge to Amanda Bosco's voice.
Alex answers before Lisbon could.
"I asked her over, Mom."
Lisbon shifts under the steady gaze of Amanda.
"Oh."
It's all the woman can muster.
There's an uncomfortable silence.
Lisbon's attention bounces.
Caught in the middle.
Between mother and daughter.
She clears her throat.
"I should get going."
"Wait, before you do."
Alex pauses.
Pulls a small white envelope from her pocket.
Holds it out towards Lisbon.
Curious, she takes it from the girl's hands.
Clutches it tightly as she exits the room.
Brushes past Amanda.
And slips out the door.
TBC