Another chapter was ready so why not publish? This is longish, but so much needed to be covered. Also, I do not write sex scenes. They are not my forte or my great desire to write them. However, I had to write one in this chapter as it just naturally would have occurred. So, forgive me if I am light on smut, but my more genteel nature just wanted to convey the idea of it more than spell out the graphic bits and pieces. Anyway, here we go.

The Messenger

Chapter 38

A Painful Truth

Teresa got busy downstairs while Patrick slept in her bed upstairs. She ordered in some groceries, to be delivered by the grocery store in the neighbourhood. Going out would mean Jane was left alone and she didn't want him to wake up to an empty and silent house. She started a load of laundry to make sure she had enough clean towels and sheets. Jane had effectively moved in, until he was well enough to move back to his Airstream. Just the idea of him living alone in that aluminium tube made her sad, but he loved it and the freedom it represented. She was still learning to understand his thought processes, and was quite sure that no matter how long they lived together, he would remain a mystery to her.

The washing machine was humming, the coffee maker was bubbling and Teresa put some soft jazz on the cd player while she made a salad for later that night. Neither of them would be very hungry after that huge lunch, but salad, crusty French bread with fresh cheese and ice cream for dessert would be enough. Then she went upstairs to quietly put fresh towels in the linen closet in her bathroom.

Patrick had been asleep for a couple of hours and now his brain was busy dreaming and reliving his days at the ranch. The stress of the dream was playing across his face, clearly visible to anyone who happened to check in on him. Lying flat on his back, eyes closed, Patrick heard his bedroom door open, then footsteps glided across the floor. Someone was standing close to his bed, watching him. He could feel it. Slowly the blanket covering his body was lowered to his waist and Patrick felt a hand slide inside his pajama top, rubbing his chest, playing with his nipples. His muscles involuntarily tensed up, his desire to recoil from the unwanted touching an impossibility. He wanted to roll over, get away, but couldn't, his body felt heavy and tied down. Then the hand travelled further, the sound of heavy breathing close to his face. The hand was hot, heavy, sweaty, and moved under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, exploring his groin expertly, until it cupped his genitals softly. A soft growl issued from Patrick's throat and he shifted his body away from the intruder, but still the hand remained firmly grasping his testicles, squeezing him and prodding his length curiously. Jane wanted the hand to disappear, the intruder to leave, but he was powerless to make that happen. Finally unable to endure it another minute Patrick flailed in the bed to throw off the unwanted assailant, a shout of "Get the hell off me!" rising up out of his chest as loudly as he could manage. The door sprang open and Teresa saw Patrick sitting up, panting and sweating, his eyes huge, pupils fully dilated in fear and anger.

"Patrick! What's wrong? Are you alright?" she shouted as she ran across the room to his side.

Patrick turned and looked at her in confusion, then cast his gaze around the small bedroom, trying to locate his abuser.

"I…. it was just... uh…" he muttered, turning back to face Teresa with a mixture of anxiety and relief. It was just a dream. A very real and ugly dream.

Teresa studied his face and knew this was not his normal nightmare induced panic. This was something entirely different. He always admitted it when he had had a nightmare, but now, he was speechless.

Teresa sat gingerly on the side of the bed and took Patrick's head in her arms, cradling it against her chest.

"What happened? What's wrong?" she asked him again, softly this time. Patrick held onto her like a lifeline and said nothing, for a time, then pulled away and wiped his face with his hands.

"I had a dream" he said quietly, controlling his breathing now.

"Yes, I can see that. But what about? It was pretty upsetting from the way you're acting" she agreed.

Patrick nodded and looked everywhere but at Teresa. God he had wanted to just forget about Michael and his sexual proclivities. It was just the once, and it was only unwanted touching. It's not like Michael had raped him…

But he felt violated all the same. Quickly thinking of Miriam, he could only imagine how she had felt when her Messiah destroyed her self worth with her 'graduation' rape. Jane licked his dry lips and turned back to face Teresa. She needed to know. She might see him do this again and he couldn't lie to her, not time and again.

Jane sat up and leaned against the headboard. "Could I have a glass of water please?" he asked, gathering his thoughts. Lisbon got up silently and returned with a glass of cold water, putting it in his hands. She waited.

Jane drank all of it and placed the glass on the night stand, then turned to his worried woman.

"I had a dream. Actually, more like a flashback, about the Ranch, and what happened there" he began. Teresa waited, letting him spool out the story at his own speed.

"I was stuck in the hospital with a broken foot and a pretty bad migraine from the concussion. They kept me well sedated…."

Lisbon took his hand, and just nodded. This she knew, so what was he working up to?

"Michael was very interested in me. Not just as a potential convert, but...as an object of his desires" he explained.

Lisbon looked pained. This was sounding ugly very quickly. "His desires?"

"His sexual desires. He was attracted to the young and pretty girls who joined the cult, but he also was drawn to some of the men. He was bi-sexual, apparently, and he wanted…..me."

Teresa felt a wave of revulsion rise up in her at what she was hearing, at the realization that Jane's time at the Ranch was not just about trying to get home, but also about avoiding Michaels unwanted advances towards him.

"He didn't… with you… ?" she tried to ask, but found the words hard to say.

Jane sighed heavily, smirking cynically. "Oh he tried, he certainly took his chances when I was out cold. That broken nose of his is my handiwork."

"I wondered how his nose got broken" Teresa admitted. "How'd that happen?"

Jane had told her so much, he might as well finish the story. "Michael ordered his head nurse Martha to keep me sedated enough to be confused and groggy. He came into my room when I was asleep. He put his hands on me, began touching me. I could feel what he was doing but was so out of it that I didn't realize who was there...not at first. Michael was certainly enjoying himself, so much so that he didn't notice me wake up and, well, I punched him in the nose to make him stop" Patrick said in a rush. There, he'd said it. He gazed at Teresa and gauged her reaction. Gradually a sly smile crept across her face.

"Good for you. Too bad you didn't break his jaw at the same time!" she said firmly. "Is that what you were dreaming about when I came in?"

Patrick nodded. "In my mind I was back in that bed and he was doing it again. I couldn't move. It was like my body was made of concrete and I couldn't fight back. I feel so stupid to be upset by it now."

"Don't say that Patrick! You feel what you feel, that's normal. The fact that he molested you but didn't rape you makes no difference. He sexually assaulted you when you were purposely drugged and helpless. That's a whole new set of charges that can be brought against him Patrick, if you decide to go tell the court."

Teresa took him into her arms again and stroked his hair, like a mother consoling a frightened child.

"You have every right to feel violated because you were Patrick. If Michael had done the same thing to me, how do you think I would feel about it?" Teresa asked him reasonably.

Patrick sat up and stared into her concerned eyes. She was right. What difference did it make that a man was molested instead of a woman? He shook his head, frustrated by his feelings and humbled by her unwavering support and love.

"If Michael had touched you Teresa...I would have done more to him than a broken nose" he said softly.

"That's not what I asked and you know it. I would have felt used, violated, like a piece of garbage, a thing to be played with and then discarded without a second thought. That's how I would feel. And that's how you feel, isn't it?"

Patrick looked off into the distance, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings. Shame, anger, relief that Teresa understood, a desire for vengeance, worry...worry that he would continue to re-live the attack over and over again.

"Yes, that's exactly how I feel. Usually you want me to sleep, but now, when I do, I just see Michael hovering over me time after time."

"Then you need help" suggested Teresa. Jane shook his head emphatically, no.

"I don't want some quack inside my head Teresa! Dr. Miller was an exceptional doctor and if she was alive today, maybe I'd go see her, but no. I'm done with that."

Sighing deeply, Teresa shifted herself more onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard like Patrick.

"So what do we do now Patrick? This could go on for quite a while. Is that what you want? Because I don't want to see you go through another bout of insomnia and night terrors caused by a madman. Not again!" she added, upset that his newly happy life was upended again.

"I honestly don't know Teresa. I was hoping I left it all behind at the hospital. But now...maybe I just have to give it time and hope my dreams go away by themselves."

Teresa turned to face the man she loved. "Will you mention the attack in your statement to the FBI? And don't just say no without thinking Patrick. Keep in mind that Michael did this to many people, not just you. Those people need backup and validation. Michael needs to be charged with sexual assault and rape along with his other crimes. Before you decide to sweep it all under the rug, consider what you would counsel another victim to do" she said seriously.

Jane turned back to her, knowing she was absolutely right. If he was talking to a victim he would tell him or her to lay a charge, to send the bastard to jail for as long as possible. He had to be as brave as those people. To do any less would be a cop-out.

"Give me some time, to work through it. Please" he added. "I can't argue against anything you've said, but, I just have to come to terms with it."

"Take the time you need, do what you have to do, and promise me you will come to me when you need help" Teresa agreed.

"OK. Thank you."

Jane sat up and ran his hands through his hair, emotionally wrung out. He felt dirty and badly wanted a shower, more to lift his spirits than for reasons of cleanliness.

"Help me into the shower?" he asked Teresa.

"Sure. That will feel good. We'll need to wrap your foot up in a big plastic bag first. Then, how about I join you in there?" she smiled, glad that he was willing to try to deal with his issues.

"Best idea so far today" Patrick said as he made his way over to her small bathroom.

Teresa ran downstairs and returned with scissors, packing tape and a large garbage bag. Jane had removed his clothes and was standing with a towel loosely tied around his waist.

"This won't be pretty but it should work for a while" she said, bending down to cover his cast in plastic. It took some fiddling, but eventually she managed to cover it enough to ensure that the whole foot remained dry during the shower.

Turning on the water, she put a small plastic stool inside the shower stall and commanded Jane to sit on it. He dropped his towel and got inside, sitting in the warm spray of water while she disrobed, then joined him.

"Teresa, you think of everything!" Jane said enthusiastically, looking up at her glistening, beautiful body. "I should sit in the shower all the time!" he grinned, as he enjoyed the view from his lowered position. Teresa just whapped him in the shoulder as he grabbed her around the butt and drew her into his embrace. His face was about level with her belly button and the soft nest of dark curls sitting directly underneath.

"Yes, this will do nicely" he murmured, running his hands gently up and down her backside. As his tongue poked into her bellybutton she let out a moan of pleasure.

Teresa smiled deeply, a warm rush of sexual desire rising up from her core to her foggy brain. This man drove her crazy! She wanted him so badly but would enjoy this little interlude first, to let him unwind and relax, in his own way. While he sat with his face buried in her pubic hair, she reached for the shampoo and gently lathered up his hair, running her hands through his wet curls, massaging his scalp as the water pounded down on their intertwined bodies.

"Ohhhh…. that feels wonderful Teresa" Patrick moaned. She worked his hair into a rich mass of bubbles then let the shower stream rinse it clean. Next came the conditioner that he preferred to use to tame his unruly curls. She loved watching him get ready in the morning when he slept over at her house. He had a precise method to set his curls and keep them under control, for the most part. For years she had wanted to touch his hair but never dared. Now she could play with his curls any time she pleased. Teresa rinsed off the conditioner and then sat on his knee, leaning in to kiss his wet face. His hot tongue pierced her lips and searched every corner of her mouth, sucking her tongue in and out, ravishing her mouth with desire.

Coming up for air, he stared at her flushed face and breathed out his love for her.

"I never want to be away from you again. You saved me Teresa, you saved me from myself so many times. I love you with everything in me" he whispered in her ear, kissing her pink earlobe softly.

"I love you Patrick. I always did, from the first time we worked together. God help me...I loved you even then."

Their embrace tightened and when they both were on the verge of drowning in the heavy stream of water they finally broke apart and laughed at themselves.

"I know, I know...we're acting like a couple of horney teenagers!" Teresa laughed.

"Isn't that what we are?" teased Jane, reaching for the body wash. Grabbing the shower pouf, he filled it with soap and began to wash every inch of Teresa's body, building up a mass of bubbles, sculpting them across her flat abdomen and around her breasts like a road on a map.

"Turn around" he asked her softly, intent on his work. She complied and he admired, yet again, the dimples above her butt and the soft curve of her spine. She was perfection. He ran the shower pouf up and down her back, then lathered her ass lovingly, massaging her cheeks with his hands, then let them stray further down, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Lisbon's throat.

"I want you, here, now" he said huskily, his passion rising, both emotionally and very physically as well.

Teresa turned around and looked at his erect penis, then saw the gleam in his eyes. She wanted him now too, but to have a lusty encounter in the shower might cause another accident, so she reached for the dial and turned off the water.

"Hurry...let's get dry and keep this going" she encouraged Jane, helping him out of the shower. They both dried each other off, further increasing their need for release.

"Enough!" barked Jane, dry enough for now. He had other things on his mind. Grabbing Teresa's hand for balance, he thumped his way over to the bed and then let his body flop down on the mattress. He lay splayed out, his plastic encased foot an odd sight considering their naked state.

"Come here woman" he whispered, reaching out for Teresa. She fell into his arms and lay down full length on top of him.

"Oh hello there Mister!" Teresa teased, feeling his stiff penis grind into her belly.

"Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?" asked Jane before he kissed her like she had never been kissed before. Her hands caressed his face, wiping his dripping curls off his forehead. Jane reached around and grasped her back, drawing her in tightly to his chest.

"Care to dance?" he breathed out as his legs encircled her body.

"Only if we do the Mambo" she replied, reaching down to feel his length as it tried to find her core. She lifted herself up and then settled down on him, their rhythm slow and easy at first, then faster as they both lost themselves in making love. Jane thought of nothing but how much he loved this wonderful woman, here finally with him and letting him give 100% of himself to her. She was the vessel he needed to feel alive again, worthy again, whole again.

Teresa let all of her passion flow out and into Jane as well. She had feared just a couple of days ago she would never see him again, and yet here she was, being made love to by a man who left her breathless, sated and fulfilled. They moved as one, in tune with each other in a way that only comes with complete trust and the desire to make the other person happy. It was love, pure and simple.

Their bodies could no longer hold off the need for release and they came together, moaning and sweating, kissing each other hungrily, then laughing at themselves.

"Yep… definitely 17 years old again" Jane mumbled, wiping a wet hair out of Teresa's eyes.

"At this rate we'll never grow old" Teresa reasoned. "I think we just found the Fountain of Youth."

"Good. Because I could go again" Jane said lustily.

"Maybe you could, but not me. Come on! Get up and put some clothes on!" Teresa commanded him.

"Whatever for? This is just fine with me" grumbled Jane, reaching for her body again.

"Trust me, we'll be doing this little dance again very soon, but I need a cup of coffee, some supper, and that ice cream you assured me was the best ever" Teresa teased him as she got up and put on some pretty underwear. She made sure to wiggle her ass enticingly as she headed for the bathroom to put on some body lotion. Jane lay back and moaned like a spoiled child.

"You never let me have any fun!" he huffed, then he got up and grabbed his crutches, thumping his way to his set of drawers to find some underwear and a robe. No need to get completely dressed so late in the day. He joined Lisbon in the small bathroom and applied mousse to his hair before it dried in a tangle of curls. She watched in fascination, never tiring of seeing his artistry with his hair.

"Ready for some tea and a bit to eat?" she asked as he headed out of the bedroom.

"Sounds good. But you go down the stairs first" Jane advised her.

"Oh? Why?" she asked innocently, falling into his trap.

"So that I'll have something soft to land on if I fall" he smirked, hobbling over to the top of the stairs.

"Be careful, I could just give you a push and then eat all the ice cream myself."

"You're a wicked woman Teresa Lisbon!" Jane admonished her as she stepped in front of him.

"Yes I am, and don't you ever forget it!" she smiled, guiding him down each step.