AN: Hello lovely people! This came from a conversation I had with some friends while watching 5x02 this weekend. I wasn't originally going to write it, but I listened to the Robyn Hitchcock cover of The Ghost in You and decided to go for it. Shoutout to mamacrime25 for asking the question that prompted this! 3
The Ghost in You
"Jane?" Lisbon called from the stairwell. It was late, and he had had a long day. They all had. She didn't expect him to answer, but she knew he was still there. He always was. "Where are you?"
No response. She knocked on the door to his attic, but he didn't say a word. Lisbon had every reason to be concerned about him, especially after his accidental drugging. From what she understood, his hallucinations had been pretty intense for most of the day. Maybe he was taking a much-needed nap.
She rolled the heavy industrial door aside and stepped in quickly, shutting it behind her. Jane was near the window, staring off into space. "Jane?"
He whipped around, noticing her for the first time. "Lisbon."
"What's that?" She picked up the bag next to his teacup, catching a whiff of the hot tea he had been holding in his hand. "What the hell? This is belladonna! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"Not killed," Jane said, setting the cup down on the window ledge. "I was being careful."
Lisbon looked sad. "I'm glad I came up when I did. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?"
"I knew what I was doing. I diluted it, nothing bad was going to happen."
"Still, I don't like it. You're scaring me, Jane. I already had to take you to the hospital once today."
"I know. And I appreciate it. But I have to see her again."
Lisbon pulled a wooden crate over to where he was sitting. "Your daughter?"
He nodded. "I saw Charlotte today for the first time in over a decade. Of course I'd like to see her again."
"She wasn't really there. You know that, right?" Lisbon knew it was going to hurt him, but it had to be said. She was nothing if not honest with him.
"Yes. But this tea, whatever else it does, helped me to see her one last time. And I didn't want it to be the last time."
"I understand." They sat in silence for a little while. "Do you want to tell me about her?"
Shadows flickered over his face, light from the city as well as from his desk lamp casting a glow over his golden curls. She noticed the pain in his bright eyes, something he was trying so desperately to hide from her. He looked tired. Not just as if he was lacking sleep, but the kind of true exhaustion that seeps into the bones. Lisbon's heart ached for him, wishing there was something more she could do to help.
He took a deep breath. "Charlotte was the loveliest girl you'd ever meet. So smart and sweet. She made friends wherever she went."
Lisbon smiled. "She sounds amazing."
"She was. Such a curious kid, always asking questions about why things worked the way they do. I think she got that from me." He paused, trying to remember something. "And music, she loved music. Ever since she was very little."
"Music?"
"Yes. Angela taught her piano, she was a natural. But she always preferred the more fun pieces to the classical ones."
Lisbon noticed that he had slid the teacup away from him, a few inches towards her. She had moved the bag of loose tea as soon as she realized what it was, in a subconscious effort to keep it away from him. If she could get it without him noticing, it was leaving with her and headed for the nearest garbage can.
"And she loved the beach," Jane continued. "I taught her the backstroke. She remembered it today. When we were in the garden."
"I have a question," Lisbon said quietly. "But tell me if it's too personal, okay?"
"Sure."
"Is she like you imagined she'd be? As a teenager?"
"She was a lot like me," he said. "But I suppose she is a figment of my imagination, so it makes sense. She's clever. Sarcastic."
"So you could talk to her?"
He nodded. "These hallucinations...they're so real. I could feel them, talk to them. And they talked back, although I suppose that was me as well."
"It sounds dangerous, Jane. I don't want you to drink any more of that tea."
"Lisbon," his voice strained. "All I want is to see her again. I need to tell her everything. That's why I drank this tea. But she's gone. I can't feel her here."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "What else do you remember?"
"Charlotte likes you. She asked about you."
Lisbon didn't say out loud what that implied. "She did?"
"Yes. Wanted to know what your story was. I didn't tell her."
"It would have been okay if you did, you know."
"I know. But I also know you like to keep your personal life to yourself, even if I would only be telling a hallucination about you. You two would have gotten along, if you could see her."
"Really?" Lisbon asked, chuckling a little. "Your subconscious works in mysterious ways."
"You're both stubborn. Ambitious. You both think my obsession with Red John is a little bit weird."
"Did Charlotte say that?"
"Yes. In as many words. She told me that revenge wouldn't bring them back, that there was nothing more I could do for them." He was quiet. "She's right."
"What does that mean?"
"It means my subconscious wants me to stop. I know killing Red John won't bring them back. But I have to do it for them. They deserve that much."
"Jane."
"I have to."
Lisbon pulled her legs closer to her, crossing her arms. "There's other ways."
"This is the only way for me. There might be other options for you, but we aren't the same."
"No, we aren't," she agreed. She decided not to press him further about it. "Do you remember anything else? Besides the rabbit and the Scandinavian couple?"
"Yeah. I also imagined the maid and the necklace. And the workshop. It was much nicer than the real one. Charlotte led me right to it."
"What was it like?"
"Colorful. Bright. But dark at the same time. Not because of the lighting, but you…"
"I was there?"
"You and Cho were there," Jane said slowly, trying to remember. "And Charlotte."
She hummed softly, not pressuring him to go on, but implicating that she would listen if he wanted her too. He wasn't usually so open with her, especially about personal issues. But, she supposed, the side effects of the tea she caught him drinking hadn't worn off yet.
"You were happy to meet her," Jane mused. "You told her you'd heard a lot about her. But you haven't, not until tonight."
"No, I haven't. But maybe that was your subconscious wanting to tell me about her."
"Hm. Apparently I was having another episode."
"Another episode of what?"
"I don't know," he pleaded. "It's confusing. But you and Cho wanted me to sit down, and someone said I was having an episode. I think that's when I passed out, but I'm not sure. It's all blurry."
"I'm sorry," she said. "That has to be frustrating."
"It is. You don't know what it's like to not be able to tell what's real and what wasn't."
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I do. Just the one time, but at least I had you to help me."
Belatedly, he recalled her therapist who had drugged her. "Right. We help each other out, don't we?"
Lisbon smiled. "We do. I'm glad you were there."
Her heart was pounding. This was the most he had told her about his feelings in a long time, and she was happy he was finally letting her in. But in her heart, she wished he was doing it without being under the influence.
"And I'm glad you're here now. Although part of me wishes you would have let me finish my tea."
"Jane. The more of that you drink, the further away you'll get. It messes with you, that's what makes it addictive."
"I just want her to come back."
"She's not going to come back," Lisbon whispered. It broke her heart to see him like this, but she had to tell the truth. "She's moved on, wherever you choose to believe she's gone. It's what's best for both of you. You need a clear mind."
"I know you're right. You're my better half." He smiled, but one of those grins filled with sorrow instead of happiness. "Thank you for sitting with me."
"You'd do the same for me." They sat in silence, staring out the window. "Jane, why do you think you hallucinated me? What do I have to do with it?"
He looked up, surprised. "You're my friend. Of course you'd be there. And I know it hasn't been easy, but I like to think it was my subconscious thanking you for standing by me. Even though it doesn't make much sense."
She looked confused. "Thanks. But what do you mean by 'standing by'?"
"You've stuck up for me even when I didn't deserve it, Lisbon. I don't know how much of it was the drug, but I think my brain was trying to tell me I'm connected to more than just the job. The people I know are more important than I give them credit for."
"I'm important to you?" she looked slightly surprised.
"Yes. I don't always say it or show it, but you are. I hope you never think otherwise."
Lisbon smiled softly, taking one of his hands in hers. "That means a lot, Jane. Thank you."
He laced their fingers together, swinging their hands a little bit. "Thank you for coming to find me."
"Do I need to worry about you drinking more of this tea?"
"No. I know she's not coming back. But it was nice to talk to you. I'm glad you're here."
"Anytime, Jane." She stood, taking the bag of loose tea with her. "You need to get some rest, it's been a long day. Promise me you'll dump that tea out." And with that, she left, tossing the bag in a trash can on her way to the elevator.
He stayed in the attic, contemplating everything he had just told her, and remembered his promise to not drink the tea anymore. Stretching, he carried it out to an empty planter on the rooftop, dumping it in the dirt. Jane wasn't sure why he had told her everything. Maybe it was the tea, or maybe it was just the kind of late-hour conversation friends would have. Regardless, it felt right.
As he lay on his pallet mattress that night, trying to sleep, his mind did not torture him with memories of his family. Instead, he thought of Teresa.