A/N: So, here's the final chapter of Verdigris.

It's taken a lot of hard work to get to this point, more than I ever envisaged it would take. This story has cut me open and bled me dry on more than one occasion. And yes, it's taken real blood, sweat and tears to actually finish it.

To everyone whose encouraged me, favourited this and stuck along for the ride: thank you, from the very bottom of my heart. I wouldn't have been able to finish this one without you.

To twin and snap: this green fic didn't beat me!

To Miss Peg: this fic wouldn't be finished without you either, and you haven't even finished reading it yet! (or at least, at the time of writing.)

Thank you to: , misfit 1-3, krolinette, Ebony10, AngryLittlePrincess, MerriWyllow, jbr12476 and misfit 1-3 (again!) for reviewing part nine.

Sorry for the long A/N and I hope this last chapter has been worth the wait.

x tromana

Part Ten

Everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Patrick Jane was grateful for that. His nerves were frayed due to the tension, and Lisbon's condition only seemed to be worsening. The moment that a breathless Grace Van Pelt appeared on Cho's doorstep, Jane whisked Lisbon away to the hospital. It was a blessed relief that she didn't argue about the treatment. Half of him had expected her to do so. After all, since their disaster of a marriage had begun, she had only grown increasingly contrary with him. He couldn't blame her for that; if their roles were reversed, he would have probably behaved in exactly the same manner. Heck, he was difficult enough to deal with as it was.

But this time, she seemed to understand that it was for the best. The false bravado quickly disappeared and all he saw was a tired, exhausted woman who was in an incredible amount of pain. Deep down, she knew that she needed help in order to deal with it all and she actually trusted him to get her it. Jane tried not to read too much into her actions, but a tiny part his heart couldn't help but sing out: she still trusted him. However, levels of trust and mere hints of possibility for the future were currently unimportant. If something happened to Teresa Lisbon because of his distraction, he wouldn't forgive himself. After all, she would be the second wife he'd lost due to his folly. And, somewhat more selfishly, if she didn't live to fight another day, then there was no hope for them in the future at all.

She clung desperately onto him as she was passed from pillar to post in the hospital, from doctor to surgeon. Nobody shooed him aside, they understood that Lisbon needed him to be there and Jane was grateful for that. He heard whispers of what was wrong – details about her symptoms, in shock, other little complications, and the key word: appendicitis – and he remembered it all from when his daughter had suffered from the illness, aged three. That was why he had been so concerned about the symptoms she had had been displaying back at Cho's house. However, Jane knew that most of the situation was still going straight over Lisbon's head. She was too far gone; too ill to even understand. Jane didn't want to think about what could have happened if he hadn't managed to persuade her to come along with him, but it didn't matter. The doctors knew what they were doing. They would save her life. And that, of course, was the main thing.

Eventually, they had to be parted. He desperately wanted to stand beside her, to hold her hand as the anesthetic took control of her body. Really, all he wanted to do was show that he would be there for her, no matter what. Tears stung in the corner of his eyes as she was wheeled away on the gurney. Jane couldn't help the reaction; it was all autonomous. It had triggered the dark questions in the back of his mind, the ones he didn't want to face. What if she didn't make it, what if it was too late, what if something went wrong? Without the operation, she had no hope, but even with it, something could still go wrong.

He paced desperately around the waiting room, practically wearing a hole in the linoleum flooring. As a distraction, he called everyone who needed to know: their boss, her brothers, Rigsby, Van Pelt. Each one expressed their concern and insisted they pass on their well wishes once she was conscious. But, as fast as time seemed to have been for him to get to this point, it now seemed to go in the opposite direction. It was almost as if the hands of the clock were stuck in place. But that was only natural; he was waiting for important news, something which could indicate the direction of his life in either way.

Essentially, as far as he was concerned, Teresa Lisbon's life hung in the balance, and thus, so did his.

He could remember the time he was waiting in hospital with his first wife, for news on the prognosis of their little girl. For hours, they held one another's hands tightly, gripping onto each other as if that were the only way to keep them both in this world. When they had said she was going to be okay, his heart had leapt up to his mouth and his wife was beaming from ear to ear.

This time, he was alone.

There was nobody there to share the joy – or potential desolation – of this current predicament.

Everyone else who cared about Lisbon was busy, or at the very least, otherwise engaged. The fact that they weren't present didn't say anything less about how much they cared about her. If they could have been there for her, for them, they would have.

Eventually, Jane settled down on one of the plastic formed chairs and buried his head in his hands.

He didn't even notice when the blood-spattered surgeon opened the door to greet him. Instead, he just heard a single sentence, a few words that meant everything to him.

"She's out of surgery. She's going to be okay."

xxx

Everything passed in a dreamless haze.

Or at least, if Lisbon had dreamed during the surgery, she couldn't remember it.

Prior to the anesthesia, but after Jane had left her side, she had spoken in a babble. Teresa Lisbon never babbled, except it seemed, when her life hung in the balance.

She spoke of her marriage dilemma. Of how Jane had let her down so badly and how she still loved him. Then, she informed them of just how much he had changed in the past couple of weeks, since Cho's accident. And then, she told the medics about work, and how she had met him, and how she could never really escape him.

She asked if love was truly enough, if she should forgive him.

Lisbon never got an answer for that question. Or if she did, she had already gone under.

When she awoke, she was thirsty and water was all she could think of. The nurse obliged willing with the first, second and third glassfuls. However, when it came to the fourth she insisted upon her slowing down and with considerable difficulty, Lisbon managed to obey the instructions.

As she sipped at the drink, she slowly began to remember how, and why, she had ended up here. Much of it was a haze, just like her dreams while unconscious. However, she could remember fighting with Jane again, trying to prove that there was nothing seriously wrong with her. She had eventually relented, and it was a good job too. In the end, he had been right after all.

He'd saved her life.

Probably.

But still, she knew she felt torn.

She'd given him her heart and soul, and yet he had thrown it all back in her face. If anything, he had treated her in the worst possible way and shown her so little respect, it was unbelievable. Could she really forgive him for such a thing?

And yet, in a short space of time, he had been trying to make amends. Really trying, and for the first time ever, it seemed like he genuinely meant it as well. She knew him; she could tell the difference between his lies and the truth. That was something which Lisbon had learned the very hard way. When it came to Patrick Jane, this behavior had to mean something. It couldn't just be another lie to stack on top of all the others.

Why would he fight so hard for her when he knew she'd already given up on their marriage?

But she had to know, where had this sudden change in demeanor had come from?

Had he realized that he had genuinely loved her all along? Had the feelings simply been laying, latent, inside of him?

Was it just a fear that he might have lost the only person who had ever shown him that they cared about him? (Or at least, she was the only person to do so since his first wife.)

Lisbon knew that she had to talk to him – really talk to him – to set her feelings straight.

But for now, she was exhausted, numb and still in a little pain. However, that was only to be expected after having to endure emergency surgery.

xxx

He had absent-mindedly started to stroke her hair when her eyes flickered open. Reflexively, Jane pulled away; he was well aware that Lisbon may have still found this kind of behavior inappropriate. After all, the last time they had talked – properly talked – she had still been insistent upon them divorcing one another.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lisbon stared at him searchingly and Jane could tell that she was trying to figure out whether or not he genuinely meant it. Eventually, she nodded slightly and smiled weakly. Relief washed over him; there was the Teresa Lisbon he loved.

"S'okay," she answered and they fell into an awkward silence before she continued. "Stupid appendix."

"Good job it's a redundant body part," he said with a wry grin.

"Yeah," she agreed.

Again, they fell into that uncomfortable silence and Jane wished he knew how to transition the conversation into the area it needed to be. But Lisbon was still ill, even if she was now on the road to recovery, and contrary to popular belief, he did have some decent bones in his body. In reality, he knew that she needed time to recuperate before she even thought about where she stood with him.

For now, he tried to enjoy the physical closeness. It was something he'd had to live without during the time she had shunned him and only now was he beginning to realize just how much he'd enjoyed it.

Slowly, after another drink of water, she moved her hands to clasp hold of his. The action took Jane by surprise, but then, Lisbon was one of the few people who could do that. Despite his impressive skills, it didn't mean he could read every single person all of the time. And Lisbon, naturally, was one of the people he found that little more difficult to get a read of.

"Teresa," he started tentatively.

"We need to talk," she said, surprisingly abruptly.

"It can wait. You need to get better first."

"I can't wait," she asserted. "And besides, they have really good drugs here."

"I'll bet."

Slowly, she started to ask the questions that had been plaguing her and he answered each one to the best of his ability.

Jane explained his initial intentions, how he had gotten everything so wrong (again) and how he couldn't have been sorrier about it, even if he tried. He promised her that things had changed since then, that he did genuinely love her and how he suspected that deep down, he always had done. Otherwise, why would he have even considered suggesting marriage in the first place?

Why it had taken a risk to her life, and Cho's injury, to realize just how much she meant to him, he couldn't explain.

He told her just how much he feared for her life, that day. How much he feared not having her in it all.

And he informed her just how scared he'd been to potentially lose her for good, again, today.

Eventually, Jane finished with three short words, something which he should have said a long time ago.

"I love you."

By the end of it all, he felt like he had been cut open and let everything he possibly had out. Jane still didn't know if he'd done enough, if she had even believed that he had been telling the truth the entire time. The only benefit to doing it in such a position was the simple fact that Lisbon couldn't walk off in disgust if she hadn't believed it. Instead, her green eyes stared at him, daring him to go further and further and he had.

But now, he only had one question for her in response.

"And what do you think about me?"

"After everything, I really shouldn't, but I still love you," she whispered quietly. He nodded and accepted her stance, but she still wasn't done yet. "Where do we go from here?"

"Do you still want that divorce?" he asked nervously and gripped hold of her hand tightly. "If it's what you really want…"

She shook her head. "But we need to start again. Do this properly. Reconsider our options after we've sorted ourselves out."

"As a couple?"

"As a couple," she echoed.

For now, Jane knew that that was enough. Their marriage – their relationship, really – had never been perfect. Far from it, in fact. But that didn't mean it couldn't, at some point, hold some kind of beauty. Almost anything could be beautiful if you looked at it in the right way.

And it was going to be hard, but Jane knew that this was something he could make work.

end