A/n Different pace to all the fluff I have been writing recently. AU/post-ep oneshot following Fugue In Red. Jane leaves with Tamara and doesn't let Lisbon drive him to Malibu to get his memories back so instead he has to remember on his own. This is about the effects of that.
Thank you to the wonderful lestrangle (on Twitter) for being the beta on this one. I was my own worst critic whilst writing this and was in a constant state of thinking that I am not doing the idea justice, but it has turned out better than I thought.
/
Still In A Fugue State
Jane pushes around the food on his plate with his fork, despite it looking delicious and it costing a small fortune for some reason he has lost his appetite. She looked disappointed when he walked out with Tamara on his arm, that Agent Teresa Lisbon.
"You're running away."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're starting to feel something inside and you don't know what to do with it."
"That's nonsense."
"Prove it. Take a ride with me. If you still wanna leave after that, you can."
"No." He had said assertively, "I have a reservation at one of the fanciest restaurants in Sacramento and I plan to enjoy it with Tamara." For a fleeting moment, Lisbon considered her options and eventually decided that arresting him before forcing him to go to Malibu with her wasn't an option. So instead, she stepped to one side and he left, with no plans to return.
There is something trying to creep into his mind, but he is trying his hardest to block it out, he doesn't need to remember anything that will potentially compromise his happiness. This, losing his memory, gives him the chance of a clean slate. His eyes flicker down to the wedding ring on his hand, and he frowns, if it is all a trick then why can't he take it off? "The dressing on this salad is so good." Tamara's somewhat annoying tone breaks through his thoughts. He almost forgot that she was here, almost. "How's your fish?"
"It is good." Her murmurs before forcing himself to make more of a dent in his food. If he is going to pay the ridiculous costs of fine dining then he needs to actually eat what he orders, even if there is a slight nauseating feeling in his stomach.
It will just be the chaos of the past few days, is what he tries to tell himself. He did almost die after all, and then when he woke, he was told that he works for the police! That doesn't seem right to him. He is a con artist, not a cop. That's why he has a lot of stolen money in his pocket and is not… eating donuts or whatever it is that they do in their spare time. It is not something "old him" ever wanted to find out.
The check was unsurprisingly ludicrously expensive, but he chucks down some cash without any trouble at all before leaving to his hotel for the night with his new woman. Tamara is good looking, that's the only thing that drew him to her because intellectually well, she isn't the best at interesting conversation but that's not why he gave her an expensive gift. It was for the company. Kind of.
As soon as he shuts his hotel room's door, he pushes her against it and she eagerly replies by kissing him, forcefully and hurriedly. This is what he thinks he should do, what he must do, but when he drops her onto the large double bed, and she starts to undress herself something makes him want to stop. It is like he hasn't done this in a while and he is unsure exactly how to continue but that is so stupid, he thinks with a furrowed brow. The expression makes her halt her action in removing her bra. "Patrick? Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He says with a brief nod of his head.
"Good." She slyly smiles before reaching up to pull him onto the bed on top of her and resumes kissing him. "You said something about rocking my world." She murmurs between kisses and once again he is feeling uncertain, a slight sense of panic hits him suddenly.
"Actually…" Jane trails awkwardly and pushes himself off her. "I'm feeling pretty exhausted from my accident. Can we take a rain check?" He finds himself saying and although there is a flicker of disappointment on her features, Tamara shrugs. She stays – of course – because why would she leave a beautiful room in a five-star hotel, but instead she just sleeps beside him and after mentally chastising himself for stopping what could have been a fun time, he also drifts off to sleep.
xxx
Lisbon stays at the office until late. She claims to her co-workers it is because of paperwork but it is actually because she doesn't want to be at home, alone, with her thoughts. The night crew are here from the organised crime unit investigating a string of bank robberies and a part of her hopes that for some reason they will ask for her assistance, so she doesn't just sit reeling about Jane.
He has to come back, surely. He will not be able to keep the memories of his past locked away forever, they will resurface, and he will be back on his quest for revenge in no time at all. Right? Is it selfish that she wants him to remember, so that he will come back to the team, to her? When right now he has no idea about the horrific events of his past and for that reason he is the most at peace he has been for years.
She was so ready to take the long drive to Malibu, to show him what is left of his home and the smiley face on the wall. Even though it would have been so tough, tough to watch him break in two as he remembers, but she would be there for him so it would end up being okay. He wouldn't have to go through the torment alone.
The brunette shakes her head and sighs when she spots the time on her computer monitor, she really does have to go home or else she may as well stay until morning. Tomorrow, she will try getting into contact with him one more time.
xxx
He is awoken suddenly by a nightmare plaguing his mind, but it didn't make any sense to him. It was like it was all familiar, but he doesn't remember why. The piano music, the red corridors, the house by the beach. Is that where he lives? The motel address that the CBI gave him surely isn't what he is meant to call home? Although he is trying to keep his memories at bay, it is frustrating. Not knowing who you are.
When there is a sign of first light, Jane gets out of bed to shower, sleep having alluded him since his bad dream. He knows that he needs a plan, he can't just blow away the money he has on top hotels, nice food, and expensive gifts for random women. Tamara is hardly a future; she was just meant to be a bit of fun, but he didn't end up going there and he is still confused as to why he didn't. It doesn't make sense.
After his shower, he has to get dressed back in the clothes he was wearing the day before. That's one thing he must do before continuing with his life, buy new clothes because these suits that he's apparently been living in are certainly not to his taste. If he is going to go on the con again, probably in Las Vegas because it is a playground for conmen, he needs better, shinier suits.
He shrugs on the jacket and puts his hands in the outer pockets, finding a key in the process. It isn't his car key, that was in the pocket of his pants, instead it looks to be some kind of property key. To the place in his nightmare? Maybe. "Patrick?" The tired voice of Tamara forces him to look her way. "What time is it?"
"I'm not sure. Early." There is a huff from the bed as she drops her head back down onto the pillow. "I've got somewhere I need to be. Check out is at eleven, I will leave the key for you."
"You're leaving?" She sounds seriously unhappy at the prospect, mainly because she was hoping to get something more out of him yet.
"Yeah, but I will call you." Maybe, he ponders, but he knows it is unlikely.
Holding the mystery key in his hand he flips it a few times whilst wondering if he will be able to find the door it fits without actively knowing where it is. The mind is a strange thing as he is very much aware, so maybe if he starts driving then something within him will take over and he will find it. Is that wishful thinking? Does he actually want to find the place?
Patrick Jane is naturally a very curious individual and that hasn't changed since being in a fugue state. If it weren't for his curiosity, then he wouldn't be so good at what he does… whatever that is.
Without another thought he departs the hotel room and goes to look for where he parked his car.
xxx
Lisbon was inundated with questions when she stepped into the CBI building. Everyone from security guards to SacPD officers wanting to know if it is true that the consultant won't be returning to his role. Yes, is the answer she gave them, but she is not yet ready to believe it. She tossed and turned all night, contemplating what she could do that makes the mentalist see sense. "Boss." She looks up from the file in her hand to Cho stood in the doorway to her office. "Any news on Jane?"
"No. Nothing." She lets a sigh escape her, showing a momentary trace of defencelessness that if the man wasn't so stoic would definitely make him frown. "I am going to call him in a minute, but I doubt he will pick up."
"He will be back when he remembers." She knows this, of course she does, but she is more worried about him coming to terms with remembering on his own. "The press wants a comment about the arrest yesterday."
In all the chaos she almost forgot about the case all together. "Talk to Brenda, not my problem."
"Yes, boss." He states before leaving her alone once more, the door softly shutting behind him.
Psyching herself up to ring her partner is the most difficult thing. The past few days have been really tough, not only having to walk on eggshells around him but also dealing with his terrible behaviour. Him not knowing who she was also stung, especially when she first discovered this was the case. The relief she felt when she was told that this memory loss should be temporary was huge.
They've been through a lot together, she and Jane, having to start completely again albeit temporarily was difficult. She couldn't dwell on it too much because she oversees the unit, and they had a pressing case attracting all sorts of media attention. She is also still shaken having had to pull him from the lake in the first place. She thought, for a short time that seemed like an age, that he was gone for good.
Distractedly, she reaches for the cross hung around her neck and plays with it between her fingertips whilst staring down at her phone on the desk. Just do it, she tells herself, the worse he could do is not answer… although that would be pretty crushing.
The brunette can't hide the surprise in her tone when he answers on the third ring with a "Hey Teresa." The use of her first name is a clear indication that he is still struggling with his memory, but she is baffled that he has greeted her so warmly when he was rude yesterday.
"Hi Jane." It sounds like he is in a car, she notes, which leads to her next question of, "Where are you heading?"
"I don't really know. Somewhere that came to me in a dream." She leans forward in her chair, her mind whirring as it tries to work out where he could be going. "I found a key in my jacket. I think I am going to the place said key fits." Malibu. He is going to Malibu. Lisbon almost leaps out of her seat but manages to control the action, whilst pulling at the jacket hung from the back of her chair. "Do you know what the key is for?"
"Your house I'm guessing." Clumsily she is putting on the jacket and her team from the bullpen notice her somewhat frantic movements and share confused expressions. "I will meet you there."
"Why?"
"Err…" She can't tell him the truth, so she claws for a lie instead. "Your last pay-check! It was wrong, you were right we had underpaid you."
"Okay…" It is obvious that he doesn't buy her explanation but the fact that he hasn't called her out on it is very telling. Maybe he is subconsciously aware that he is about to unearth something upsetting.
xxx
Somehow, he arrives at his desired destination and fleetingly he marvels at the power of his mind for getting him here without really knowing where here is.
The casualness of how he exits his car and wanders up to the front door of the lavish property will perhaps trouble him in the future. There is a slight trace of trepidation within him when he sticks the key into the lock but the sound of waves lapping on the beach not far away distract him from that thought.
Why is the place empty? Not a piece of furniture in sight when in his dream this was not the case. There was meant to be a side table in the entrance with a round lamp placed on top of it. A comfy couch, a piano, a kid's bike… wait a second. A sudden feeling of dread slaps Jane in the face as he recalls his dream, or even his vision that he had last night. There was a child's bike, small, for a young child, why was that there?
His blue eyes dart to the staircase, his breaths are shallow, and he doesn't know where his legs are taking him when he heads up them. It is like he is functioning on autopilot; his body is moving but his mind is only just catching up, slowly, too slowly for him to fully understand what is happening. What happened here a little less than a decade ago?
The red walls. He remembers the red walls. They are much more garish when the pictures that were hung up on them are not there. He notices the marks where they would have been, scuffs at the corners, holes where the nails were. It tells him that what he dreamt last night is actually more real than simulated. He remembers opening the door but there was nothing after that, but screams, high pitched, grating, female. It was that which caused him to awake.
His heart is hammering in his chest, so hard that it is like it is going to jump right out of his ribcage, but he doesn't apprehend why. "You're starting to feel something inside and you don't know what to do with it." Why would Agent Lisbon say that if he didn't have demons in his past that he would possibly want to run from? With his palm resting on the handle to the door at the end of the corridor he realises that whatever that demon is, it is behind this door.
Jane presses his lips in a tight line as he forces himself to turn the handle and steady his nerves simultaneously. This is fine, it is going to be fine.
But it isn't fine. Immediately when he sees the now brown smiley face on the wall, he knows that none of this is at all fine. An event of a monstrous nature took place here and he caused it. His wife, Angela, and daughter, Charlotte, are dead because of him. "No, no, no." He begins to quietly chant whilst his breathing becomes quickly laboured. How could he forget the two people he cares about more than anything else in the world?
How could he forget what Red John did to them?
He wants to swiftly shut the door again so he doesn't have to look at the taunting face staring back at him, but he loses his footing out of panic and ends up on the floor, in the doorway, leant up against the frame. The abrupt memories hit him over and over again, and it is all too overwhelming to the point that it feels like he could pass out from hyperventilating. He has to find a way to calm himself, use all the techniques he has taught himself in the past but right now he's struggling to remember them. His mind is screaming. It is being overloaded and it hurts.
xxx
The front door is still open when Lisbon arrives, and she is quick to leave her vehicle before darting inside in search of her consultant. She hopes he hasn't been here long because she dreads to think the effect remembering what happened in his past is having on him. It shocks her how empty the place is, she has never been here before and has only seen pictures taken after the events of that dreaded night all those years ago. The house has the makings of being a wonderful home but now it just carries an air of desolation. She wonders if he will ever sell it.
Shaking her head to try and find her focus, she shoots up the stairs and is straightaway met with the sight of the curly-haired man slumped in a doorway quaking severely. "Jane." She murmurs with a pang to her heart as she rushes to his side. He is immediately grabbing at her arms as he gasps for breath - she can see that he is struggling to regain composure from the obvious agony in his dull eyes. "It's okay I'm here."
He pulls her into him, taking her by surprise, but she quickly comprehends that he needs to feel her close. Any uncertainty is quickly swept away when she starts to sense him shaking in her arms as he cries.
When it comes to displaying emotion, they are both guilty at keeping things to themselves no matter how bad things get so this is not only very out of character but incredibly gut wrenching. Sometimes she does wonder what it would have been like, being the detective first investigating the death of his wife and child and meeting him shortly after the tragedy had occurred. She always stops herself from thinking about it because she hates to see him in anguish, so this is hurting her.
Twisting in his arms, partially to try and escape a potentially awkward situation later, she eyes up the haunting graphic on the bedroom wall and a wave of sickness hits her. Whenever she sees Red John's mark she is disgusted, infuriated, and massively frustrated that they haven't caught him yet. How many more victims, how many more Patrick Jane's will there have to be before they do?
He does seem to calm gradually, and she knows this by the loosening of his grip around her form. She takes this as an invitation to pull away. He looks so helpless and when he drags his gaze away from her to look back at up at the smiley face, she sees him in an unusually vulnerable light.
Jane clears his throat and screws his eyes shut, and she notices the heavy movement of his shoulders as he attempts to relax his breathing. "Let me help you up." She states gently, not wanting to raise her voice as if any loud sounds will spook him. His eyes flutter open and their gaze fixes, mainly so neither of them has to look back into the room. Her hands feel soft in his when she guides him to his feet. She is also pulling him up at an angle, turning him away from Red John's mark before she quietly but swiftly closes the door. "How did you find this place?"
"I don't know." He utters weakly, "I just kept driving and found myself here." It is a long way from Sacramento to Malibu, six hours or so, meaning him aimlessly driving is a clear indication of his current mental state and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't worried. "Lisbon I..." He starts but is unable to continue so instead she takes pity on him. Hearing him refer to her as Lisbon once more giving her an almighty sense of relief.
"Let me drive us back. I will organise for your car to be transported on the back of a truck."
This sounds like a good idea; he would certainly struggle to safely make the journey himself when his head is so full of… everything. The pain is almost intolerable. "I need some air first."
They make their way back to where their cars are parked, he lets her lock up whilst he props against the bonnet of his vintage car. The quality of the air seems richer like it has twice as much oxygen packed up in compared to usual, but he puts that down to his moment of panic.
Lisbon gives him some space, deciding that it is what he needs right now more than anything. He appears more composed now, his usual mask that he hides behind has returned and she studies his now relaxed posture. When she helped him just minutes ago, he felt tense in her arms, and she wanted to do whatever she could do to aid him through it. Now, she knows that he will not want to talk about before but for once she isn't going to let him hide his sentiments from her. She needs to give him an opportunity to vent. "Do you want a drink? I've got some water in the car…"
"I think I need more than water." He mumbles in response and glances back to his front door. Being here, is always so difficult but in these circumstances, it is even harder. "Let's go, shall we?" He is already strolling towards her car before she can even reply.
xxx
Spending twelve hours in a car is not something that anyone wants or enjoys but long journeys when the atmosphere is a little awkward is even worse. The more he recovers and processes what had happened the more he avoids peering towards her. After an hour of uncomfortable silence, she has had enough and decides that he has had plenty of time to get some of his bearings back. "How are you feeling?"
"I don't know it's strange. A lot to deal with." Jane's non-committed answers make her audibly sigh and he quickly understands why. For once he needs to give her more, actually dig deeper than playing today's incident off because although he is the biggest victim in this situation, it has also had an effect on her. "Can you imagine having all your traumatic memories rush back to you at once? Not even my mind can take it and it is pretty used to it."
It is difficult to put herself in his shoes in this scenario, but Lisbon is sure going to try. If she had gone from living in blissful ignorance about her past and then suddenly remembering about her mother, and father, and everything she had to do for her brothers it would be devastating – and her family weren't violently murdered by a serial killer. "You can talk about it, if you want?"
"Hm, I think I'm okay." Being okay in this situation is actually being a lot less okay than normal but he will mend. He has to. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? What for?" She sounds genuinely confused at what he could possibly be apologising for.
"For being an ass..." What's new? She thinks, but doesn't say, because now isn't the time for cheap jibes. "…and for forgetting who you are."
"It isn't your fault."
This might be true, but he cannot help feeling slightly guilty. He can't imagine how difficult it was for her and for the rest of team, he being like he was over the past few days with no signs of improvement. "And thank you, for not only saving my life Lisbon but for being there for me. I don't deserve you." The last comment (and a touching one at that) is cut off by him breaking out into a yawn that makes him lean tiredly against the window.
"Tired?"
"Hm. Turns out returning from a fugue state is tiring." His tone is dripping with sarcasm, and it almost makes her smile, almost.
"Get some sleep." She doesn't have to tell him twice, it doesn't take him long to nod off, the sheer exhaustion of the past few days taking over.
When they're comfortably cruising on the highway, Lisbon glances across at Jane sleeping in the passenger's seat and produces a small smile at the relief that he is not only okay, but he is also at peace – even if it is just for a short time.