A Rift Between Them
She has been quiet since returning from work, but he has put that down to tiredness. The further along she gets in her pregnancy, the easier fatigued she has become and despite him being pretty worn-out himself from working hard on the remodel, he never stops doting on her. He gets up early, ensuring that he has breakfast prepared for her before he heads out for the day, giving her a quick kiss prior to leaving. He then works diligently all day on whatever needs doing at the new house and then returns to her condo, showers, and gets started on dinner. He may have quit his job, but he has definitely not turned idle, in fact, he is probably more animated now than he was then. "We have water at the house." He announces cheerfully once they are both tucked up in bed. "Electricity is next." Most nights he updates her on his progress, it is generally the last thing she hears before drifting off to sleep and usually she is excited to learn of what has changed. Tonight, she appears preoccupied. "Better not mix them up." He tries to joke but she just distractedly hums in response, and this is enough to make him realise that her quietness isn't because of being exhausted, there is something on her mind. "Are you alright?"
Lisbon glances at her husband who is propped up against his pillows with his forehead creased out of concern. He is already worried, and she knows the truth isn't going to make that any better. What she is about to disclose could cause a rift between them and even though she wants to, needs to be truthful, she is fearful of what the result will be. The fact is that she has let him down, let them down, and she is very tense because of it. She knows that until the weight has been lifted, she won't be able to shake the apprehension off and he deserves her honesty.
The drawn-out silence increases his uneasiness and Jane tries his best to remain patient. His focus darts from the frown on her face and down to her sheet-covered bump. She is six months along currently and the size of her bump definitely shows that, the image helping him a little in alleviating his anxiety. Unless something is wrong with their baby? And quickly his anxiety is back with full force. "Something happened at work today…" Somewhat thankfully, she breaks her silence, but the five words fill him with dread – however the next three aren't going to be any better. "In the field."
"In the field?" He questions back at her, in disbelief that this is a subject that they're even discussing. "Teresa I thought that you weren't in the field anymore." His voice is low, almost dangerously so, as if he is trying his best to contain his emotions. She doesn't want him to have to be like that anymore. They're married, they should be able to completely be themselves around each other now, but she has broken his trust, and this is clear.
"Wylie was in a pickle about something, and I wanted to help." Is her shot at a defence but she knows it doesn't mean anything, not really. "I didn't think it would be a dangerous situation-"
"But it was." He cuts her off and she notes how his jaw clenches in ire whilst a vein near his temple begins to pop out, pulsating angrily.
"Yes." He looks like his heart breaks at her admittance, and he can't hide it, the choked exhale and his blue eyes glossing over gives it away. "I'm so sorry-"
"What happened?" He hasn't got the headspace to listen to her apologies right now, he feels betrayed. They talked about this, her working whilst being pregnant in detail and he agreed that he would be okay with it if she was careful. She promised him that she wouldn't work in the field again, especially at this stage. Early on they told Cho together and he swore that he would protect her and this thought has him upset with his friend too. It isn't that she hasn't left the office at all in months, she has done interviews but always alongside another agent and they were never with people they considered dangerous – today was no different. Although, she is now meant to be solely assigned desk work.
"Shots were fired." Her story gets worse and worse, yet she has the audacity to try and make light of the situation. "Terrible aim really-"
"You could have both been killed." Jane harshly states, pushing himself up and swinging his legs around so that they are hanging over the side of the bed, he faces away from her. He is gripping the edge of the mattress, his knuckles turning as white as the sheet whilst his demeanour is hunched and to her it looks as if he is staring at the floor when in actuality his eyes are screwed shut. He is trying desperately to stay composed, to not get angry because he never wants to be angry at her, but in this moment, he is finding it incredibly difficult not to be. He is hurt, more than hurt, he is distraught. He feels sick, nausea is readily washing over him, and it is like his heart is beating in his head, he can hear it too loudly. "I am not losing another wife and child. I can't do it." His voice cracks, adding to her guilt and inelegantly she attempts to move closer to him, so she is able to place a comforting hand on his back, but the contact has him flinching before jumping to his feet and she gets the message.
He starts to pace the room, gravitating to the foot of the bed endeavouring to get some distance between them. Things have been largely better in his head since leaving law enforcement for good. He isn't consumed by his grief or the trauma of his past, it will always remain a part of his life, but he has more of a lid on it. Weeks and weeks can go by without him experiencing an ounce of sadness, he can talk about Angela and Charlotte freely with her without a pang in his heart and he doesn't stress as much about his wife because he is oblivious to what is happening to her at work until after she comes home. Now, he is regretting the latter. Maybe he should have stayed at the FBI, to ensure her safety… but he has an inkling that it would have been their downfall as couple.
Lisbon gives him the time to think things over, understanding that now is when patience really matters but witnessing his internal battle is truly agonising. She has seen him in pain before, many times, even when he has tried his best to mask it but being the cause of it is tough to take. Perhaps she deserves the anguish, perhaps it is her own punishment for making him like this. Her fingers on one hand nervously tap the bed as she focusses on keeping her breathing calm, the last thing either of them need is for her to hyperventilate. In for seven and out for eleven, she tells herself, homing in on her deep breaths and if it weren't for his own panic setting in then he would most likely notice hers.
The cold wooden floor has warmed up by him continually striding over the same boards, his bare feet making one in particular creak slightly as he puts pressure on it. How frequently it sounds is an indication of his speed and when the number of creaks lessens, it is obvious that he has begun to calm down by his pace dropping. "I just don't get it." He eventually comes out with and turns back towards her, halting in his path. His hurt is evident on his face because it has been etched into his features, the pain so obvious that it is making her forget what he looks like when he is happy. This thought festers at the back of her mind. "We talked about this. I agreed to letting things be if you were careful." He never wanted to be controlling, he doesn't want her to leave the job she loves because he wants her to. Her happiness is the most important thing to him, and he appreciates that her job is a big part of that. However, he cannot help some of the things he is feeling because he is damaged by his past. "You don't understand what it is like Teresa. Losing the people you love. Losing a child." His voice breaks again, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat, his face twisting in agony, thinking of his beautiful daughter and how brutal her end was. "Maybe if you did then…" He trails off, hating that he even uttered the words, but she catches on too soon.
"You think I want harm to come to our baby?" And now it is her turn to be hurt.
A tear that has been threatening to spill for some time escapes her and runs down her cheek before unceremoniously dropping onto the sheets. The sight has him flustering, a different kind of panic setting in and immediately he is waving his arms in haste. "No, no, no." He chants, stuttering in the process as he quickly takes the few steps towards her so that he is now stood on her side of the bed, not knowing whether to hug her tightly or reach for her hand or to give her the space she gave him. "I didn't mean it like that." His urgency making her believe him. "I just…" Jane sighs before making his next move. He slowly lowers himself to perch next to her near her hips and gathers her agitatedly shaking hand up off the bed, into his own. His thumb lovingly runs over her knuckles, hoping to relieve her of her anxiety and she does start to destress under his touch. "I just love you both so much and I don't know what I would if any harm came to you." He solemnly confesses and bites hard on his bottom lip to try and stop the emotion getting the better of him.
Her face softens as she changes the positions of their hands so that their fingers can affectionately entwine, and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "I know and we love you too." They don't fight, not anymore. Back at CBI when they had disagreements it was usually because of him being so driven by his obsession of revenge. Now they only tend to disagree about minor things that couples do like who should do the ironing and what is the best way to stack the dishwasher. This situation tonight has been their biggest "fight" since they have been married and although they both sense that resolution is coming, they hope to not experience it again in a hurry. "I swear I won't be leaving the office from now on." She promises, the insistence in her tone showing him how much she really means it.
"What about after?" After she has had the baby.
Lisbon releases a long sigh, unsure how they are ever going to resolve this line of conversation. "Jane, we have-"
"Talked about this." He finishes her sentence and shakes his head in the process. "I know, I know." Jane uses his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in bid to ease the headache he has coming on. He needs to get a hold of himself, he knows that, otherwise she is going to bring up the dreaded T word again – therapy. Although because of this being the thousandth time they have discussed her job and her safety, he is beginning to wonder if it isn't the worst idea in the world. "I'm sorry." He utters, feeling ashamed for blowing up.
"Why are you sorry?"
"I said I wouldn't do this anymore. Make you feel shit about your job."
"And I said that I wouldn't go into the field, and I did." His gaze snaps to meet hers, the black bags under his blue eyes making them appear sunken. He needs rest, proper rest, and a few days away from the remodel. Maybe this weekend they can both take the two days to chill. They can go for a walk, watch movies, chat about potential baby names and put this whole incident behind them "We are both at fault here. Let's just move on… okay? Please." She almost begs and how she pleads has his heart aching. Teresa is very relieved when he replies with a gentle nod, and she lets out a breath she didn't realise that she was holding. "Come back to bed."
He unlinks their hands and straightaway gets up off the bed before he marches around to his side and clumsily clambers back under the sheets. It is all very brash but when he settles back against the soft pillows and takes a deep breath, he regains his poise. Jane carefully pulls her into his side, tenderly encasing her with his arm. She nestles against him feeling nothing but relief that they are okay. "Are you sure that you're alright though?" He asks after a few minutes of quiet. "I know you're physically unharmed, but it must have been frightening."
"I'm fine." She candidly says in response. "I was just dreading telling you because I don't want my stupidity to be the reason you implode again."
"I would have never blamed you." He declares, without skipping a beat. He loves her too much to ever blame her for anything, his short blow-up was simply a moment of weakness. He is okay now. They are going to be okay. "I'm sorry for not taking it well. I need to do better. For all of us."
"It is all good. Don't beat yourself up." She has seen enough of him beating himself up to last a lifetime and it isn't a pretty sight. "I love you Patrick."
"I love you too."