Teresa Lisbon unlocked her apartment door and entered. James and Jack were right behind her.
"Dibs on the couch!" James shouted.
"James! Shut it! There are people in this building trying to sleep, you know!" Teresa snapped.
"What the heck? It's only 11!" They'd left the office at seven, but had gone out for ice cream and then Jack had taken the keys and they simply went on a joy ride.
"And you aren't at college anymore. People in the real world have to wake up at the same time every day for work, and try to get enough sleep!"
"Pfft," Jack said, heading over to the recliner, "Sleep is far overrated."
Teresa glared at him. He'd been sleeping just fine the past couple of nights. She had a load of cover up on under her eyes to hide the fact that she hadn't been.
"Just keep it down to a dull roar."
"Yes, you're Highness!" James mocked and flopped down on the couch.
Teresa retreated to her kitchen. They'd be asleep in 15 minutes, she was sure. She opened a cabinet and looked at one of the small bottles that greeted her. She didn't know whether she wanted to try sleeping without help tonight, or just go ahead and be safe and take a couple of sleeping pills. Shaking her head as she replaced the bottle on the shelf, deciding that she didn't need it, she went back to the front room.
The TV had been turned on, and her brothers were already asleep in front of it. Teresa smiled and went to her own room. She washed her face and got into bed. She didn't realize how much she missed it. Amazing what sleeping on the floor for two nights could do.
"Teresa! Come on! Get up!" shouted her father from the doorway of her room.
She looked at her clock. It was 2:30 in the morning, and she had school tomorrow. None the less, she put her slippers on and followed him out the door, thinking that it'd be best to cooperate. She reached the front room. Her brothers were already gathered up and leaning against each other on the couch.
Her father grabbed his keys and opened the front door. "Come on! Let's go, children!"
"Where are we going, Dad?" Jack asked, rubbing his eyes.
"We're going on an adventure!" Her father smiled and seemed to be very cheery. Teresa checked the counters and kitchen table quickly. There weren't any empty bottles… What was going on?
The family piled into the car, Teresa in the front. Her father took off…
Lisbon leaned up in bed. She could feel the blood rushing through her. She pulled the covers off her and went back to the kitchen. Two small pills fell out of the bottle and into her hand. She swallowed them dry and went back to her room. She'd tried, but she couldn't sleep peacefully without help; not tonight, at least.
Patrick Jane lay awake in bed, staring at the bloody smiley face on the wall. It was taunting him. He hated it. He hated it with every fiber of his being. Its existence was the bane of his own. As long as the man that put it up there with his wife and child's blood was alive, Jane wouldn't sleep peacefully.
The last couple of days had been painful. So many things had come into Jane's mind that he'd managed to shove away for years. And in spite of all of it, he had to smile and act like nothing was wrong. It was that little girl! She reminded him so much of his own daughter. She was smart, happy, bubbly, and demanding, in a good way.
Jane got up and started wandering around his house with no purpose in mind. He didn't have to go to work tomorrow, which just made things worse. He'd be left alone with only his thoughts as company.
As painful as the last days had been, they'd also been strangely enjoyable. Jane had forgotten how fun it was to play all the childish games. He'd also learned a lot about his coworkers and was filling holes in their pasts rapidly.
Grabbing a rag to mindlessly dust the first floor, Jane began weaving together Van Pelt's past. From little bits about her past that she'd let loose over the time she'd worked at CBI, he had gathered that her father was a football coach, she had no siblings, and her family was deeply religious. He also knew that she'd grown up without a mother. His best guess as of now was that Mrs. Van Pelt had died during childbirth.
As she'd grown up, her dad brought her to every football practice and every game. She was appropriately feminine, although she could shout louder than any girl in her class and there was no one in the school that dared messed with her. She hadn't ever dated while in school. Between the team and her father, all the guys that would have were too frightened. If they so much as laid a hand on her, that hand would promptly be snapped off.
Jane guessed that her father had been attacked in her junior year. She'd been there, in the locker room, and so had a few members of the beloved football team. Considering it was most likely drug dealers that had come for vengeance, there had probably been shots fired and punches thrown. Van Pelt hadn't been a part of that though. No… the dealers would have wanted her father to suffer as much as possible, but not to kill his princess. She had to stay alive as a reminder…
Jane shook his head violently. He was getting too far into it. He pulled himself out of his musings.
He lowered the dusting rag to his side. He'd already gone through the entire front room thoroughly. He looked to his kitchen for something to do without any positive results. The dishes were all clean, the cabinets were perfectly organized, the floor might as well have been sparkling, and the table and counter were cleared.
The vacuum cleaner! That's what he needed! Now where had he put it?
Jane eventually found the vacuum cleaner in the coat closet. He plugged it in, turned it on, and started cleaning off his couch. As he did, he started looking at the puzzle pieces he had of Lisbon's past. He was still missing some of the boarder pieces, which was just making it harder to put her story together.
Jane knew Lisbon had been forced to grow up overnight. Her mother had been hit by a drunk driver, although there was more to that story than he knew. That had left her as the woman of the house, caring for her three younger brothers. Lisbon had admitted to a man that was in the same situation her father had been that her father became a hopeless drunk after the car crash. He'd committed suicide and almost taken Lisbon and her brothers with him. The thought made Jane cringe. He looked at the CBI team as his. They were all he really had in life now. The thought that even one of them almost didn't make it to be CBI agents actually hurt. He shrugged it off and continued thinking.
That left Lisbon as the sole caretaker of her brothers. James and Jack frequently mentioned their grandparents, which suggested that they'd moved in with them after their father's death. However, they'd only mentioned their grandfather a couple of times, which made Jane suspect that he either wasn't there too much, or that he wasn't there. Lisbon had probably began baby sitting like crazy, grabbing every opportunity she could. People more than likely hired her out of pity. They knew that the Lisbons needed money. Thomas started mowing lawns on the weekends, and during the week he'd take care of the twins for Teresa.
High school graduation had come around. Teresa and her grandparents combined couldn't afford to send her to college right away, so she stayed at home for a couple of years, working at a law firm as a receptionist.
When it came Tom's turn to graduate, he went into the Army instead of college. He knew it would save a lot of money, and he'd be able to make money right away.
When Teresa Lisbon was 21, she and her brothers had probably moved out of their grandparent's house. Jack had told Jane that they were thin on money. The twins made their way through high school, working after school and on weekends to help their siblings come up with much needed money.
And that's all Jane was really able to gather. It bothered him to a degree. Ever since James had told Jane that he found it funny that the team didn't really know that much about each other, it had been on Jane's mind. James couldn't have been more correct. No one knew about anyone's past. Well… everyone knew about Jane's past five years, but that was it. And Jane, being Jane, had outlines of all their lives, but nothing was definite.
He sighed angrily as the vacuum cleaner turned itself off. It'd overheated. He unplugged it and left it out, retreating back to his room. He resumed his staring contest with the damned smiley painted on his wall, determined to win.
Me is wanting to make a point. The pasts I'm weaving together is guesswork. We have very little back ground for anyone on the Mentalist. So, if something comes up that contradicts anything I've written, I'm wrong. The writers of the show are always right! -sigh- Those darn writers.
Anywho... reviews are much appreciated, and they make me leap for joy!