A/N: Phew! It's been a while. Rest assured, I'm not leaving the story behind. I've just been incredibly busy in real life and didn't want to post a crappy, unedited chapter. The next chapter will be here in 2-3 weeks. Thanks for sticking with this story. CW: this chapter deals with themes involving assault and PTSD.

xxxxxxxxxx

Another Friday night, more paperwork to be done! She rubbed her belly bump as she worked on her paperwork. Soon, she would be on maternity leave. Like many other things, the boredom of paperwork was only temporary.

A knock on her door took her out of her reverie.

"Hey Teresa!" Ray Haffner stood at her door with one of his tell tale smiles on his face. Always a flirt, he was harmless even when he came on a bit strong.

"Ray, what can I do for you?"

His smile faded to a frown. His eyes grew wider. A hole grew in his forehead as blood dripped down. "Why did you let him do this to me? Why? Why me, Teresa?"

She blinked rapidly. "I…"

Before she could answer, Patrick was at the door with a stroller. "Hey, baby. Who's this?"

She looked down to her baby bump, which was gone now. "It's Ray...Haffner...you've met him before."

"Before what?" She heard his sneer before she saw him. She looked to the other side of her office where McAllister sat. "Before you let this happen?"

She heard the squalls of a faceless baby-who now lay on the floor in a heap with her father, covered in blood.

"Patrick! Charlotte!" She heard her own screams. "No. No, this can't be happening!"

He laughed as she panicked and tried to reach her husband and daughter. Only, she never could quite close the few feet of distance between them to reach them.

"I told you that you were mine, dear."

"No, please God. No. Don't hurt them."

Ray moaned again. "Teresa, why me?"

Her heart beat so fast that it might jump out of her chest. What was she meant to do right now? What could she do? She had to save them!

She kept hearing that laugh. "You did this! You could have saved them, if only you gave me what I wanted!"

"No...no...no!"

She woke up with a start, gasping for air in a strange room. Hearing the dual heart monitors, she realized she was in the hospital as she let her hand softly fall to her bump. Charlotte was safe...for now.

Every time she closed her eyes, she was back in her office. Every time, something different happened. Every time, she saw his smile. Every time, he did unspeakable things to her.

In more than one of her nightmares, he killed Patrick in Ray's place. It was Patrick who wandered the CBI, asking her: "Teresa, if you loved me, why did you let him do this to me? How could you destroy our family this way?"

Every single time, she jolted awake in sheer panic.

If it were possible to avoid sleep, she would, but the doctors told her that her sudden exhaustion was just her body recouping the blood loss-and that was a good sign for Charlotte. For her baby girl, she had to endure those nightmares.

It was easiest when Patrick was there holding her hand. Though, the way he looked at her with disappointment and pity in his eyes was its own kind of nightmare. He wouldn't say what he really thought about this. If they lost Charlotte, it would be her fault.

Would he still love her if they lost Charlotte? Their little girl was a surprise, but they wanted her. He really wanted their family, and if she'd done anything to harm their daughter, how could he ever trust her again? Not that it mattered because how could she trust herself again?

In one nightmare, she saw her father grinning at her, mocking her and telling her that of course she'd never be any better than he was at parenting. Why did she ever want to try? After all, the apple never falls far from the tree.

Not long after that particular nightmare, she sent Patrick home. Of course, he wanted to stay. He was so good to her, maybe even better than she deserved. But Annie was a little girl who didn't deserve to be abandoned because of how shitty she was at her job and at managing her family. Annie deserved at least one parent capable of loving her and not leaving her.

Though, she wished she hadn't sent him home when she woke several times that night, longing for him to be there to hold her hand even if his eyes were filled with disappointment and pity when he looked at her. A few times, she thought of asking the nurse for a phone to call him. Perhaps it was rash to send him away. She couldn't even get that right.

When did she start to need someone else so much? No. She could handle this. She could get through this on her own. Her family didn't need to carry her burden. No one had before.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On her second day at the hospital, Minnelli came for a visit. He brought a large bouquet of spring flowers for her.

Patrick excused himself so that they could talk as she tucked Charlie into her side. She wished he would have stayed at home with Annie today. If she sent Charlie, then she knew something was wrong. She didn't need to fret over her. Annie's job was to be a little girl and grow up, not worry about the adults in her life.

Minnelli stood there, awkwardly for a moment once Patrick left. It made her feel somewhat self-conscious. He never acted awkward around her. He was one of the few guys at work who always treated her like anyone else, but now, he had that look in his eye too. Only, his look was disappointment and guilt. Of course, he didn't pity the agent who failed to do her job and cost him another agent.

"Boss?"

Finally, he spoke. "Agent Lisbon, how are you doing?"

"As well as I can be. I suppose I'm better off than Haffner."

She wasn't sure why she even said it. It didn't have to be spoken. One of them lived and the other one didn't.

"I suppose so. I hope you're not thinking too much about that instead of focusing on recovery."

"Boss, that's all I can think of. I saw him catch one between the eyes, and I just sat there."

He sighed. "Lisbon, I saw the tape. From the view in the hall, it doesn't look like there was anything you could have done differently. Your service weapon was still locked away, and you only prevailed when you were able to break free and take Haffner's gun. You did what you could do and what you had to do. I wish I had lost no agents this week, but I'm glad I only lost one and not two."

"Does it matter when 6 people are dead?"

"It does if you think those 6 deaths lay at your feet."

"If only I understood the games of a twisted freak, I guess." He was clear: everyone died because he didn't have her attention.

"Lisbon...Teresa, there's no easy way for me to say this, but I don't want you back at work. Not right now."

"Doctor says it will be six weeks before I'm mobile again. It will be time for my maternity leave by then, I suppose. No need to worry." She closed her eyes when she thought of whether she would even still need maternity leave.

"Take all of the time you need and all of the time you have. I can't tell you what to do, but I would understand if you re-evaluate your position all together."

"What do you mean? Are you firing me?"

"No, absolutely not!" He looked away. "I just don't want you back in the office until after your maternity leave is up, but if you don't want to come back, I want you to know that I'm ok with that. I'm not pushing you out. I just want you to do what makes sense for you, what makes you happy."

"What do you mean?"

"You're also a mother now. Believe me. That's a fact that has weighed heavily on me during this situation. I lost one agent, but I almost lost another and her baby."

She tried to shrug, but pain shot through her right shoulder, reminding her of part of the reason she was here in the first place. "So, what are you saying?"

"That however you come down on things, I will support you. You will always have my support. Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this. Haffner...he was the first agent I've ever lost. And that was in the building! I know this affects me differently than it does you, but it shines light on things in a different way, you know?"

She looked out the window. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I'll take the time."

"You've already been cleared of any wrongdoing. As far as I'm concerned, and I'll be writing this up, you deserve a commendation. Teresa, you were very brave. Your instincts saved your life and caught a killer."

Calling her brave was laughable at best. What about those poor women? What about Ray? Young women in the prime of their life, looking toward the next thing. Ray, who was being nice and offering her dinner. Once again, she saw his eyes looking back at her when she grabbed his gun out of his holster. She should have just screamed "danger" instead of being calm. He would have fared a better chance. They would have all fared a better chance if only she were better. What about them?

No, she didn't deserve a commendation. Six people died on her watch. Maybe she didn't kill them, but not paying attention led to their deaths. Pulling the trigger on McAllister-the act that would most likely mandate a trip to the department psychologist-didn't weigh on her the way those deaths did. And that scared her. She didn't feel that bad over shooting him, even if she still had so many questions. Why did he do that? Why did he want to play some bizarre game with her? Between that and whether Charlotte would make it, it was all she had thought about since waking up.

Well, when she wasn't thinking about the ways he personally violated her in her own office. Almost instinctively, she ran her hand over the raw skin on her neck. When she was unconscious, they conducted a forensic exam that included a pelvic exam. Of course, no one wanted to share that humiliating detail with her. A nurse casually mentioned it and told her she was "lucky." Lucky wasn't the word she'd use to describe the way his disgusting tongue felt on her neck or his hot breath on her face as he taunted her, reveling in her perceived loss of power. Or the terror that ran through her when she felt the cool air across her breasts. As soon as they let her bathe, she scrubbed her chest, neck, and face as much as she could to get him off of her.

Worst: Patrick knew. He could probably spot it from a mile away. When he saw her after her shower, the color drained from his face and he looked at her with such pity. She never wanted to see those eyes filled with pity for her especially when she didn't deserve his pity. She almost got their daughter killed. Yet, he was so sweet and patient, trying to take on managing life at home and being here for her. He was much too kind to ask the question written on his face. Was his wife damaged?

Maybe she didn't even deserve him. She loved him with every fiber of her being before she even knew what was happening, but maybe she'd never deserved such a good, kind man.

Perhaps the cruelest of all jokes here was when the doctor told her she could have serious nerve damage to her shoulder such that she may have no range of motion in her right shoulder-her dominant hand. At the very least, it would require extensive physical therapy and possibly even surgery. When the doctor told her, she started to cry.

Wrapping his arm around her, Patrick told her: "Teresa, we will get you into the best physical therapist possible. This won't limit what you can do."

Patrick assumed her tears had to do with returning to work. After all, so much of their life had been about her work. Isn't this what he was afraid of before while she stubbornly refused to meet him in the middle?

In reality, her tears came as she wondered if she'd be able to hold Charlotte. Would she be able to feed her? Bathe her safely? Play with her?

Minnelli hadn't needed to come give her the push of encouragement to take more time. She wasn't sure if she deserved to see that office again, let alone if she ever desired to see that office again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After four long days in the hospital, the hospital discharged her. Charlotte wasn't in the danger zone anymore, and the doctors expected that she would likely be able to carry her to full term. That was a bit of good news. In spite of how ugly the world could be, her daughter deserved to live a full and happy life. Both of her daughters did.

As she worked her way inside, Annie ran outside to greet them. She ran up and embraced her on her right side, forcing her to halt in her tracks. Due to the nature of her injuries, the hospital sent her home with a walker, citing that she would likely be able to be mobile on the boot alone in almost no time. Though, she still couldn't hug Annie from that side. She awkwardly tapped her arm, hoping that Annie wouldn't take it as a slight.

"Mommy! You're home." She smiled sweetly at her. While she'd talked to her on FaceTime from the hospital, it was nice to see her in person.

"I am."

"I made you a card!"

"Hey, Annie. Let's wait until we get mommy situated before we start putting things in her hand. Remember what we talked about."

"I have to be a big girl and give mommy space and time to get around. If she needs help with anything, I'm supposed to help her and not ask for too much stuff!"

He nodded and smiled at her, but she wanted to be sick. He'd coached Annie on how to take care of her. An image of her taking care of her drunken father flashed across her mind.

She froze in her tracks and screamed internally. "No, this is all wrong! I take care of Annie! She's only six. She's a little girl. She needs me to protect her and take care of her. This is wrong!"

Was she a burden on her family? Was she a liability to the life they built together?

Patrick raised his arm behind her back to support her. "Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, mommy."

Patrick grimaced. "Why don't you sit in your chair, and I can push you inside?"

"I don't want to be pushed into my house."

"Okay. Well, do you want to rest for a bit?"

"No. I can make it. Just give me time please."

"Well, we have cake!" Of course, in a child's mind, her life wasn't falling apart before her eyes and cake was a proper enticement to haul ass and get inside.

"Annie! You weren't supposed to tell her yet." Madeleine came out to greet her.

"Do you need help with your things?"

She eyed her suspiciously. What was Madeleine doing here? Then, it clicked. Of course, someone needed to stay with Annie while he got her from the hospital. But what about her kids?

She put on a smile. "I'm fine."

Madeleine walked next to her as she took her time getting inside, filling her in on Annie's , she'd not seen her friend at the hospital, she was glad that she had been here with Annie.

Indeed, there were balloons, flowers, and a chocolate cake inside waiting for her. It was a nice gesture. She grimaced as Patrick helped her down on the couch, before Annie jumped up beside her.

"Mommy, do you want to see your card now?"

"Of course!"

Annie placed the card in her hands. It was covered in glitter with her imperfect lettering that said "I love you, mommy."

"See, that's me, you, and daddy." There were three stick figures with hair surrounded by a heart.

"That's a good job, baby."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

Cho and Rigsby came walking from the game room. Cho maintained a neutral face while Rigsby grinned slightly. "Lisbon, how's it going?"

She shrugged her left shoulder. "As good as I can be, I suppose. I may never have range of motion in my arm again, but I'm alive, if that's what you're asking."

He nodded awkwardly as Cho hit him in the arm. He'd probably warned Rigsby off from saying something like that. She shared a temperament with him where they didn't often ask stupid questions, but Rigsby was trying to be nice. A lot of people were just trying to be nice right now.

Then, there was Van Pelt who hung back. She spoke softly. "We stocked the fridge with food for the next few weeks. We knew going out for things would probably be hard for a bit."

Van Pelt's guilt was written across her face as she avoided all eye contact with her. Of course, he used her ID card to get in. It wasn't her fault, and she wasn't mad at her. Though, they'd eventually have to have that talk.

"Thank you." While the gesture was sweet, she was suddenly all too aware of how her team-and their friends-were in their home, taking care of things. She didn't need to be handled.

"So, what are you guys doing here?"

Cho shrugged. "We just moved the game room around and put a bed in there for you. Just wanted to welcome you home."

A bed in their game room because she couldn't go up the stairs. She swallowed thickly. Even people who didn't live here were here trying to help her. She didn't need their help. She didn't even deserve the pity they decided to bestow upon her.

They're just trying to be nice, Teresa.

"Guys, thank you for all of your help."

"No need to thank us! Besides, I heard there was cake!" Van Pelt elbowed him at that, making her smile a bit. There was always an earnestness about Rigsby that she appreciated. It reminded her of Stan.

Stan. Had Patrick called her brothers? Her phone was locked in evidence. She would get a new one some time this week, but she should call Stan and Jimmy. But what would she tell them? Or Uncle Evan?

Perhaps a bit selfishly, she wished she could talk to Tommy. She needed Tommy. He would know what to say right now.

Annie leaned in with a bit too much pressure on her left leg, making her gasp.

Patrick was there to move her away almost instantly. "Annie! Sweetheart, remember what I told you! We have to be careful with mommy's injuries."

Annie looked at him wide eyed, and then, she turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, mommy."

"No, baby. You didn't do anything wrong." She tapped the seat to her left, prompting Annie to return before placing her hand in the little girl's hair. She wanted to cry again, but she would at least hold it all together in front of these people.

How could closeness with her daughter hurt? Annie needed her affection. Charlotte would need her affection. Did he take away her ability to give them that? She looked at the card in her hand that said "I love you, mommy." Did she even deserve that? Was she just another person who was going to let Annie down?

"Mommy, can we have cake now?"

"Have you been good for Grace and Miss Hightower?"

"Yes."

"Good enough for chocolate cake?"

"Yes!"

She smiled at her. "Then, let's have cake!"

Once they got the cake slices apportioned, Madeleine sat and spoke with her. She wanted to thank Grace for looking after Annie, but she kept her distance.

"Did I miss anything while I was gone?"

Madeleine grinned. "Well, Mimi and Annie are on the same soccer team."

"I heard. Thank you for taking her to sign ups. I know she's very happy." When she spoke to Annie on FaceTime, that was the one thing she wanted to tell her. And she was happy to talk about literally anything else besides what happened.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

"Not since the first night at the hospital. I guess he's also keeping his distance." She looked to where Grace was now playing with Annie.

"We've all told her that it's not her fault. Just like it's not yours."

A heavy silence hung between them. "Six people are dead, including another CBI Agent." The nightmares made it increasingly hard to say his name. "They didn't deserve that. And then, I didn't know if Charlotte would make it for days."

Madeleine raised her eyebrow. "Charlotte?"

She nodded, before placing her left hand on her bump. "Charlotte Teresa Jane. Patrick said we should give her the name of a fighter."

Madeleine grinned. "Of course. That's a beautiful name."

"Thanks."

"I think he's right, you know?"

"About what?"

"That you're a fighter."

"Madeleine…"

"I know. You don't want my pity. That's not what this is. Do you know why we are here today?"

"Everyone is being nice to me."

"Everyone here loves you. That's why we are nice. Besides that, it's the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Minnelli gave us the week off and mandated counseling for all of us. We wanted to see you make it home. I told Sam we were gathering. I thought he would come by."

Did Sam think it was his fault? Jesus, how many people were going to assume the blame for this?

"I'll have to give him a call when I get a new phone."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"What made you think there was a serial killer in the first place?"

"I'm not sure. It's just…the suffering of those women seemed very similar. It was just a sense I had. I can't believe it was right. I wish I weren't right."

"You caught a killer. That was good work."

"Yeah. So, what aren't you telling me?"

Her friend shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "There was a pattern that we discerned after your attack. I don't think we need to talk about it now."

"Well, you kind of brought it up. What was it? What did I miss that allowed five women plus one of our own to be killed?"

She took a deep breath. "It's not your fault. You didn't miss anything."

"Ok. You know, I don't need everyone to treat me with kid gloves. What was it?"

"He killed women who had some kind of likeness to you. Each victim had some sort of likeness to you, but none of them were exactly like you, if that makes sense. It was hard to spot, and I doubt anyone would have spotted that pattern if he didn't make a move on you."

So, those five women had died because of her. No one wanted to tell her the truth of it.

"Fantastic."

"Teresa, believe me when I say this: it is not your fault. He was deranged."

"Oh, I know that. Believe me. I know. I had front row seats." She chuckled darkly. "He wanted me to basically agree to be his girlfriend before he tortured and killed me. Told me how he fantasized about killing my husband and asked if I wanted to protect my daughter. And that was all after he'd shot Ray in the head as I watched. Pretty sadistic son of a bitch, if you ask me."

Madeleine took her hand, the contact startling her a bit. "You don't need my pity. But you have my support. You're going to get through this."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two weeks later….

While Patrick did everything he could to maintain her comfort, she'd never been so bored in her life. All she could do was sit on the couch or lie in bed.

"What do you want to watch?"

"Not another one of your cop shows. Please."

He grinned before kissing the side of her head. "Of course not. How about we marathon some of your movies?"

"I guess." She was sick of tv. She wished she could be literally anywhere besides cooped up in the house.

The doorbell rang. "I will go get that!"

Beyond her mobility issues, he'd taken to screening all phone calls and visitors. Some reporters picked up what happened, and they wanted to talk to her. She had little interest in speaking to them.

Patrick came back to the game room. "Honey, Sam Bosco is here. Do you want to see him?"

"Yeah. I'll be right out."

He narrowed his eyes at her, indicating he absolutely would not be letting her go out to the living room alone. She appreciated his attentive care, but she was in her own home. It was getting a bit ridiculous that he'd let her go nowhere alone.

Instead of fighting him on it, she let him help her to the living room.

"Here." He fluffed the pillow behind her before she sat back and he placed a pillow on the chaise to help prop her leg up. "Can I get you anything, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm fine." The way Sam watched her get settled in made this seem even more ridiculous.

"Can I get you anything to drink, Sam?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Ok, then, I'll leave you both to it. Just call if you need anything." With a kiss to her forehead, he was gone.

She met Sam's gaze. "I'm sorry about all of that. He's just…a little over the top sometimes."

"He cares. I don't think there's anything there to apologize about. How are you doing?"

"As good as I can be, I suppose. Bored out of my mind. I thought the paperwork was boring, but all I can do now is shuffle between the bed and couch."

He nodded. "It's better than the alternatives."

"I guess so. What brings you by?"

"Just wanted to come and check on you. I know I've been a bit…"

"Silent?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that." He paused before continuing. "It's just…I thought about what you said at the hospital. And I thought about all that's happened between us. Well, what's happened between us because of me. I don't think any apology could ever make any of that right. I didn't want to bother you."

"What I said at the hospital?"

"California's most eligible bachelors. That man…pursued you. Granted, it was all sick and twisted. I became all too aware going through the files and assessing the scene. Men like me made you lower your guard because we are all creeps to some extent. Makes it hard to tell the creeps who want you dead from the regular creeps."

"Sam, I don't think that it's your fault. I wasn't even fully aware of the situation."

"Teresa, I didn't come here to seek absolution. I know you weren't aware. I wasn't really aware. I just picked up on a different angle, and I certainly never would have pegged him for a cop you'd interacted with multiple times. It's just that finding you there and having to comb through everything that happened provided perspective on what I am at fault for."

"I don't think you're at fault for anything. He wanted to fuck with me. That had nothing to do with you."

"Are you able to give yourself that same grace?"

Five women died because he found something about them that reminded him of her. If she'd yelled out at Ray as soon as her internal alarms went off, he might still be alive. How was it not her fault?

After a heavy pause, he spoke again. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

"You don't want absolution. So, why did you come here?"

He sighed. "Well, I wanted to check on you. But I also need to tell you something."

"Related to the case?" She thought Internal Affairs had taken all of that when she was still in the hospital. They cleared her and everyone else at the CBI, confirming that he had indeed worked alone.

"No. Related to your brother."

She blinked. "My brother?"

He nodded. "Tommy."

A chill shot up her spine. "Tommy?"

"Yeah, have you talked to him recently?"

"Not since I was in Chicago. He's hard to get in touch with." In more ways than one.

"One of my old buddies called me. He knows about you from when you were a rookie. He told me Tommy is getting sent up. He's looking at 25."

"25 years? For what?!" Nothing Tommy could be guilty of carried that kind of sentence!

"He was in County. A fight broke out and some guy ended up dead."

"Tommy…Tommy isn't a killer! When our dog died, he wouldn't come near her. I had to bury her by myself!"

"Well, it's looking like he's going up for it. No one is sure who started the fight, or did the killing, and none of the guys are talking. They've all been charged with conspiracy."

"I can't believe this! He was only in on some bullshit charges! I hoped he would clean up there!"

"I'm sorry. I wanted to let you know."

"Does he have a lawyer?"

"I don't know."

"God. I need to see him."

She needed to go to her brother and make him see sense. If he told the truth of what happened, he would go home. He may be a fuck up, but he wasn't a killer. He was her brother. He wasn't like that man...or her for that matter. After all, he'd made her a killer in the end, too.

"I'll find out what I can. I can arrange a phone call, if you'd like."

Of course, Tommy would never call her about this, and seeing him right now wasn't a real option. "I would like it if you could. I don't think my brothers know. I spoke to them last week to tell them what happened."

Stan wanted to fly out, but business kept him home. Later, she learned that he'd chastised Patrick for not calling immediately. Jimmy was coming out next week.

"I'll get a phone call arranged."

"Please don't say anything to Patrick."

"I won't."

Sam stayed, talking to her a bit longer. Baseball started, and the Cubs were not playing so well, so they had a lot to talk about.

True to his word, Sam arranged the call two days later.

"Hey George." Tommy didn't sound himself when he answered. He also thought he was talking to his lawyer. That was the string Sam pulled.

"Not George."

"Reese?"

"Yeah. How are you doing?"

"I'm alright I guess. You?"

She closed her eyes. She had so much to say about why she wasn't alright. Beyond the physical ailments McAllister caused, she was nowhere close to alright having to talk to her brother in jail on potential murder charges.

"I'm ok."

"Why are you calling? I thought this was my lawyer."

"An old friend heard something from an old colleague. He pulled some strings to get me a call since you'd never call me about what happened. Tommy, you need to talk to them."

"Talk to the cops? I know that's who you're comfortable around, but are you out of your fucking mind?"

There was no way he could know how she cowered when she saw unfamiliar cops at the hospital, causing an almost immediate embarrassment.

"Tommy, you don't belong in prison for 25 years. Do you know how long that is? Please just tell them. They will offer you protection."

"Yeah right! Why are you calling about this? Just being a good cop or feeling guilty that you're the reason I'm here in the first place?"

"Tommy, I didn't file charges against you. I tried to stop you from smarting off to the cops before you assaulted one of them!"

"Yeah, but you could've helped me out!"

"I'm trying to help you right now. This is serious!"

"I know!"

"Then, talk to the cops. Tell them what happened. We can get you protection. If you want, we can even bring you out here."

"To California?"

"Yes. I still have my old house. You could stay there and work on things. If you got clean…Annie would love that. She misses you."

"She doesn't need me. Not anymore. That's what she's got you for. You're her parents now, remember? I'm just some fuck up."

"You're still her father. And you're my brother. I need you." She started to weep softly. She needed him to come and help make sense of all of this.

He scoffed. "Seriously? You're just saying that. And tears? Really? You've not done that since we were kids to get me to do what you want."

She closed her eyes. The truth was that she really did need him. Maybe even more so than Annie now. He was the only one who understood. These weren't the crocodile tears of their youth when she wanted to bend him to her will.

"I'm being serious, Tommy! I miss you. I want my brother back. Please. Just talk to them. I can call in some favors and get your probation set up out here. When the time is right, maybe you can start spending time with Annie again."

"If I do that, I may as well sign my death warrant. I guess I'll see you on the other side, sis."

"Tommy, you need help. Not prison!"

"Reese…just stay out of it! I don't need you trying to dig me out of this. Manage your family. Take care of Annie for me." With that, the line was dead.

She held her breath, waiting for him to come back, hoping he would come back on the line. Her soft weeping turned to sobs, bringing Patrick back to their makeshift bedroom.

"What is it, baby? Are you okay? Was it another nightmare?"

A nightmare, for sure. Her brother was ready to serve 25 years for a crime he didn't commit because he was too stubborn to take her olive branch.

"It's Tommy. He's going to prison!"

"Okay."

"It's not okay. He didn't do it!"

"Didn't do what?"

"They said he killed someone in a jail fight. Why won't he listen to me? I even told him we would bring him out here and help him get established. He needs help, not prison!"

"Baby, he's a grown man. If that's his choice…"

"This is always so clear cut for you! He's my brother!"

"I know that."

"No, you don't. He was my best friend. He has a problem. He needs help. I have to help him." He needed her, just like she needed him. Just like it had always been.

"Help that he doesn't want to take. And you offered to bring him out here?"

"Yes! I still have the old house. He could stay there, and when the time is right, maybe he could start visits with Annie again. That would be so good for both of them."

He huffed. "Teresa, I know you've been through a lot recently…."

"I said when the time is right!"

"You can't use our daughter to try to entice your brother to do better! If he's going to get clean, he has to do that work. She's not a rehabilitation center. Neither are you!"

"You don't understand."

No one ever understood how Teresa and Tommy Lisbon could get through anything together. Whenever something needed done, there was nothing they couldn't do together. When dad hurt her, he was there to help clean her up-or at least make her forget the pain for a bit.

"But I do. You want to help him because he's your younger brother. You feel responsible for him and think you can put him back together."

"He needs help. If I needed help…"

"He'd do what? Did you tell him what happened?"

"No, because he needs my help."

"And that's the problem. You also need help, but you worry more about trying to fix his situation after everything he's done than your own needs. Whenever he's in the mix, you prioritize him over yourself."

She waved her arm around. "I have everything I need! I have you! I have people who want to help me! He has no one besides me."

"He has no one because he's driven them away. You hold onto a little boy who was your best friend, when he's a man who's made his choices. I don't want this in my home."

His home?

"It's my home, too! Or is it only my home when I do what you want?"

"Baby, I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, what the hell did you mean?"

"I mean, that I can see how lousy anything to do with Tommy makes you feel! It affects Annie too! She knew he was there that day. At the park, she told me she knew that's why she was sent away. It still hurts her just like it hurts you."

He didn't understand. "And if he got the help he needed…"

"Please! That's a hope that you hold onto! It's not reality. I love you, and I love Annie. She needs stability. You need stability. Right now, this is a toxic situation. I don't really know where this is coming from."

"A toxic situation? I almost died two weeks ago! I could be dead never having made things right with my brother!"

"That's the thing. You have nothing to make right, but he has everything to make right! You'd do anything to appease him and let his shitty decisions and treatment of you slide. That's what I don't want in my home. You're my wife. You don't deserve to be treated that way. You're no one's doormat. And I thought you could see that, but this situation has affected your thinking."

"This situation affected my thinking? Maybe I'm just not who you think I am."

No. No one ever truly understood Reese Lisbon quite like Tommy.

"There's not a lot you can do if he refuses to listen or accept your help. You're one woman. You can't fix everything, especially when our focus needs to be on you getting better and preparing for Charlotte to arrive."

On that point, maybe he was right. She couldn't even fix herself. Maybe Teresa and Tommy Lisbon were two peas in a pod.

He tried to kiss the top of her, but she jerked away from him. She didn't speak to him for two days.

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: See you again in a few weeks! Don't forget: I love happy endings ;)