A/n I wrote this mid-breakdown at 2am. I don't think it needs any warnings or anything, it is just a moment of vulnerability.

(Side Note: I am still continuing with A Blue-Eyed Surprise To Come Home To, just thought I would post this first.)

/

Almost

Lisbon felt the movement beside her. At first, she thought that it was the wind bellowing against the metal walls of the Airstream because when they went to bed it was stormy outside, but quickly she realises that it is in fact her boyfriend who is jerking and also mumbling slightly in his sleep. He sounds unsettled, anxious and it is now that she notices that he is visibly shaking. "Jane." She murmurs, her voice dripping with concern at his obviously fragile state.

In the dark she can kind of make out the outline of his features when she props herself up on her elbow, titling her body to face him. He looks distressed, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips turned downwards into a frown, she is immediately alert as she puts a hand on his chest in preparation to softly shake him awake. She can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, it is so fast, and it makes hers speed up in panic. "Jane, wake up." She almost pleads and attempts to guide him back to consciousness.

It doesn't work quite how she wants it to. Jane wakes abruptly and he's straightaway gasping for air, his curls sticking together thanks to the collected sweat on his forehead. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay." She soothes, and carefully runs a hand down his face. She lets it settle, cupping his cheek lovingly before she tentatively plants a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He's more aware of his surroundings now, where he is and who is showing him so much love. Not only is he relieved but also embarrassed, the last thing he wanted was for her to see him like this. "I'm sorry." He mutters sadly, pain obvious in his tone.

"Shh, don't apologise. Things are okay. I'm here." Her next action of nestling into his side supports her statement and she feels him wrap an arm around her form, pulling her closer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Not really, is what he wants to say, but he has been trying so hard to be more open and honest with her. Maybe it won't hurt so bad if he shares. "I just get nightmares sometimes about..." He trails off but the silence is very telling. "Well I'm sure you can guess."

The brunette knows exactly what he is getting at, and she understands, well she does her best to. She has seen the crime scene photos and they disturb her more than the other Red John victims, probably because she knows the pain their death caused to her partner. Nightmares are also something she can sympathise about, she used to get a fair few when she was younger thanks to the ordeal of being brought up by an abusive, alcoholic father. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It isn't your fault." She loves how gravelly his voice is when he first wakes, she finds it strangely consoling. Lisbon pushes that thought to one side, because right now it isn't her who needs reassuring, it is him. "In fact being with you has made the nightmares less frequent, having you sleeping beside me is very comforting."

This is something that she would agree with, since they've been together, she has not wanted to spend a single night without him. He has even managed to persuade her to stay in his trailer from time to time – although she would much rather they spend the night at hers. She doesn't mind though, as long as they're together. "Do you think something triggered it or?"

"I don't know. Brains are weird I guess." He produces a drawn-out sigh that just makes her snuggle into him further, hoping that her presence will be enough to bring him back to calmness. "I-It was a mismatch of memories but in the wrong order."

"How do you mean?"

"Well instead of it being… the night my family was murdered, me killing Red John, what almost happened after and then us getting together." Jane momentarily pauses to take a deep breath before continuing. "We were together when I killed him but then… I was holding the gun up to my temple. Involuntarily. I didn't want to hurt you, but I couldn't pull my arm away."

"That sounds awful."

"Yes." He is constantly reminding himself of what he now has, instead of what he lost but sometimes his mind isn't so kind. "As I said though, brains are weird."

They settle into a silence, the only sounds that can be heard are their gentle breaths and the slight tapping of ran on the roof of the Airstream. It is almost hypnotising. The mentalist begins to feel himself being drawn back into sleep, aided by her caring strokes on his torso, but once she begins to fully comprehend what he has just said – having taken longer than usual thanks to the early hour – a question breaks through his drowsiness. "Wait... so did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Contemplate... shooting yourself." If it is true, then it isn't something that he has ever admitted before, but his sleep-addled state has let him down and he took his eye off the ball. "You said your nightmare was a mismatch of memories, that means you did." She sounds hurt, appalled, emotional… so many things rolled into one.

The relaxing motion of her stroking his chest has halted and instead now she has subconsciously tightened a grip on his blue pyjama shirt. Not wanting to let go. She doesn't know what she would have done if he had. That would be a crime scene photo she couldn't stomach and would haunt her memories forever. "Momentarily, yes." He reluctantly confesses. "I almost did but you know me, I have always feared pain. Bit of a coward."

"No." When she shakes her head, she buries herself closer to him and he is ashamed to have brought her discomfort. "You are seeing this all wrong. You were brave, brave enough to survive the trauma."

This wasn't the response he was expecting, and he cannot help the small smile make its way onto his face. "I don't think I've ever been called brave before."

"Hm." She hums as she relaxes her grip on him and instead tries to find his hand with hers. Their fingers entwine affectionately. "How about you leave the being brave to me, I would much prefer it that way. I don't want you almost doing anything stupid."

"I have no plans to."