A/N: I told you there would be a delay, and I am back now! Thanks for sticking with this story, and to the guest review who said they come every day to see if there's an update: I see you!

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For days, he'd watched Teresa try to go about her life as normally as possible without his help. When he tried to offer his help, or support in the case of her nightmares, she turned from him. It was rejection over his words about her brother. Only, he didn't really know what to do with it because on top of everything else, this rejection from her-the space that she sought from him-pained him to no end.

"Do you want to get lunch on the way to your appointment?"

She exhaled sharply. "No."

After days of her being extremely closed off and standoffish after Tommy's latest intrusion in their lives, she still wasn't talking to him. He had hoped it would subside, but Teresa was much too stubborn to let that go, even if he knew what she was really upset about now.

With time to think about it, the whole Tommy thing made a lot more sense. If he'd taken even a minute to think about it before throwing up his own defenses in an attempt to protect his family, he would have seen it more clearly and been able to approach the conversation differently. He was just...angry. He never expected Teresa to cut family off to be with him or anything like that, but he thought they had an understanding about Tommy. He thought she saw him for who he was. Why would she want their family near whatever hot water her brother found himself in this time? He certainly didn't.

Didn't she trust that he was there and that he wanted to protect their family?

As she issued curt, one word answers to him and padded around the house in a depressive state, barely eating, it was clear this was so far beyond Tommy. He wished he hadn't been so quick to shut her down, to help her through what it was she was looking for with Tommy. Usually, that was something he was well-equipped to do. This time, though, he was in full protective mode.

Maybe he should give her time to work through it. Only, by day two of her barely responding to him, his own patience wore thin. The hurt that came from her temporary rejection compounded on everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Losing Teresa in any form, whether it was her shying away from him or the fear of her dying and seeing her that way, hurt him.

After all, if this situation had taught him anything, it was that he wasn't sure who he was without her anymore. Everything about their life had taught him something new about himself and pushed him to somehow be better. For her. For himself. For their family.

After days of the silent treatment, it was too much for him to keep sitting on. He could not take this emotional separation any longer, especially when it was about way more than Tommy.

He sighed. "I wish you would stop edging me out. You've made your point."

"And what point is that?"

"I should just let you mope around the house and stay in your own world to deal with everything the way you want."

Almost immediately, he chided himself. Coming at her that way wasn't the way to handle this. When did he become someone who let his emotions get the better of him?

"Oh, screw you!"

"Yeah. Ok. I'm going to go upstairs until it's time for your appointment."

He turned to walk away. Perhaps it was unfair to abandon her down here, but at least this way, he wouldn't continue to let his emotions get the best of him and make this situation worse.

"Oh please! Stay! Tell me about how you feel about your trashy ass wife and her trashy ass family that you can't stand."

He stopped in his tracks, taking time to calm his voice. "I've never called you trash, and I'd damn sure never let anyone else say that about you!"

"Well, that's what you think! That's incredibly clear. There's no room for any imperfection in this little life that you've curated."

Okay, they were going to do this now. Under no circumstances would he let that stand. He tried to calm himself, which was becoming more difficult to do with his increasing heart rate and drumming in his ears.

"Do you want to know what I think? I'm tired of this emotional toll that everyone gets to run on you-that you have decided you have to handle all by yourself even if I am here. It's not a life I've curated. It's our life! I know you were the one injured and carry that burden…

"Just stop! I don't need you to tell me how you get what I'm going through. No one could possibly understand this!"

"I don't know what you're going through, but I want to tell you what I'm going through." She rolled her eyes. "I want to protect you, and no, I'm not some gun slinging cop. I'd never be able to do what you do, but it terrifies me that I can't protect you even in the smallest ways because you don't trust me enough to let me in."

"You think I don't trust you? You are one of the few people that I trust, but you apparently don't trust me or my instincts."

"I absolutely trust you!"

"No, you don't. Or you wouldn't immediately take charge and tell me how I'm endangering our family because I won't abandon my brother when he really needs the help the most."

"And that's exactly what troubles me, Teresa! We're not even having the same conversation, and I don't even think you realize that."

"Then, what is the conversation, Patrick? Enlighten me!"

"We are fighting about Tommy and the level of nonsense you'd take from him when this is really about the elephant in the room."

"What's that? Jimmy will be here in a few days. Is that also something you don't want in your house?"

He shook his head. "Your outlook on Tommy changed after Chicago. After you saw him and after he hit you, things changed. You checked in on him the first week, and after that, you let go."

"I…you can't possibly know that! I wouldn't give up on my brother!"

"No, of course not. You knew, and still do deep down, that before anyone could help him, he would have to want to help himself. It's beyond clear that he's not there. But there were six people who deserved your help, and through no fault of your own, you couldn't help them. And that has everything to do with your return to trying to fix your brother's life."

She shook her head vigorously, and but for the fact of the seriousness of this conversation, he would have laughed. It reminded him of when Annie vehemently refused to eat something. "No, it doesn't!"

"You are very brave, and because of that, you don't want people fretting over you especially when you think we should be more focused on those who you think you failed. You said it a few times at the hospital, but tried to bury it way below the surface after that. If you didn't attract the murderous freak's attention, they'd still be alive. But you know that's not true."

She shook her head. "I don't need your psychoanalysis!"

"Of course not. You'd just as soon take up self-destructive behavior like trying to fix your brother when you know what the result will be. And to what end will that be? So you can bring him back to you?"

"Dont!"

"I can't pretend it's not right in front of me. The nightmares…do you see the bodies? You cry when you think I'm not paying attention or won't notice. I've read about PTSD online…"

"Just stop!"

"Baby, I think it would be good if you talked to someone."

"I don't need to talk to anyone!"

"Okay, then don't. You can always talk to me, or work through it in your own way. But this is not the way."

"I just need to help my brother. It's that simple! I don't need you assigning ulterior motives to what I need or want to do."

"Oh bullshit! It's absolutely not that simple! You're waiting for me to rage at you and to confirm your feelings that this is all your fault. It's not, and I won't rage at you! Never about that! You fought to get home to us. You caught a killer."

"You don't know shit! You don't know what it was like!"

"Of course I don't. You went through something unimaginable."

"You don't understand!"

"I know, but do you think your brother would understand any better?"

She inhaled sharply. "Do you know what the thing is about a headshot?"

Momentarily, he was taken aback not only by her words but her suddenly calm demeanor. "A headshot?"

"Yeah, when someone is shot in the head, their eyes freeze open sometimes. It's a physiological response."

"Okay?"

"So, when I crawled over to Ray's body and took his gun from his holster, not only did I smell the scent of urine-because you see that also happens at the moment of death sometimes-but I saw those frozen eyes staring back at me in surprise. And all I could think about was how I had to get home to my family."

By the time she finished her words, her voice was in a near whisper. Even if he suspected where her mind was, he was still stunned for a moment until her next words came in a near shout.

"I just wanted to get home to my family! Do you get that? All I thought of was how I could get us out of there and bring us home. Me and Charlotte. We had to live. I didn't care about anything else, not even my brother in arms who laid dead right there on the floor. And you know, they say that how we act in the toughest moments really define our character."

He felt his eyes start to water at her rather vulnerable, blunt disclosure. "That's not...if you want to talk about how you acted in the toughest moment, you were absolutely brave. There's nothing you could have done for Ray, but you made it home. Both of you made it home."

She scoffed. "Did I make home? You want to talk about this? Let's talk! You're right. I do cry. You think it's because I fear I can't be a cop anymore…"

"Baby, you have time…"

"No! I don't have time because you see, I don't know if I can hold her. I don't know if I can hold our little girl! After everything, what kind of mother did he leave behind? You think that being a cop means more to me than anything in the world when it doesn't. I'd do what I..." She broke as her voice became tearful. His instinct was to grab her and hold her, but she needed to do this. "I'd do it again, Patrick. And I'm not sure what kind of person that makes me because my family does mean more to me than anything. And now, I don't even know what I can give my family."

Somehow, his heart rate quickened even more. She was the same person she'd always been. Even her reaction to the attack demonstrated that. Of course, she was still a good wife and mother with a lot to give her family-and also a good CBI agent with a lot to give her team.

"You're just starting your physical therapy. I'm sure there are ways to find modifications to help use your arm if it comes to that. We have resources to make this happen, and no matter what, our girls will always know you love them."

"You're so goddamn understanding and always with the solutions!"

He shrank back a bit. Her voice held rage and pain. She'd never talked to him like that before, but he opened these floodgates.

"Because it's not your fault."

"It is. You just don't understand how!"

"He killed you five times over before trying to kill you. It's not your fault. He was deranged."

"I sat there while he shot Haffner! He never even knew it was coming! I was worse than useless!"

"You did what you thought was right! You didn't know what he was capable of or what he had planned."

"Maybe, but the deranged fucker destroyed my life! My life! When I pulled the trigger, it wasn't about justice, it was about getting home to my family."

Of course, taking a life went against every moral code she held. Her admission that she would do it again to ensure that she and Charlotte lived challenged those moral codes, but he didn't think less of her for wanting to survive and wanting their child to survive.

"I'm glad you did it. I know it doesn't fit with your outlook on things."

She cackled, almost hysterically. "That's just it. I don't give a shit that I shot him. It's literally everyone else I let down."

He took a momentary pause. He doubted that was true, but in trying to gain power over her, that sadistic piece of shit exploited her one weakness. Over everything else, Teresa valued her role as protector. That animal challenged that in the most debased way.

"You did what you had to do, and you can't blame yourself for what he did."

"I don't need you to give me therapy."

"No, you don't. But I'm here, and I will always be here." Her face was blank. "Every day when I wake up, I'm glad you're still here with me because baby, I don't know that I could live without you."

She rolled her wet eyes. "Don't…"

"No, I mean it. At the hospital, all I could think was that if there was a God, then he would take me and leave you and Charlotte because you'd done everything right. You're good, and she's perfectly innocent. Then, I realized that maybe if there was a God, he'd see you prevail over evil. And you did. Not without scars to show for it. I know there are things you won't tell me—and maybe they're things I never need to know. But the one thing I know is that I love you. That will never change. I know your nightmares…"

"You don't know about them!"

"I see the terror in your face."

"Oh? Do you want to know what I see?"

He shrugged. "You can tell me. You can tell me anything you want. There's nothing you are going to say to me that will make me look at you differently or turn away in shame. I love you and will always be here."

"I see you. Shot in the head. Sometimes, you're holding Charlotte. And asking me why I let this happen."

"Teresa, you didn't let anything happen."

"I did."

"No, and I think you know deep down, he played mind games with you."

"Doesn't matter. And I don't see how this has anything to do with Tommy."

"It does when it's self-destructive behavior disguised as an attempt to save someone. You called Ray a brother, and you couldn't help him. Now, you want to help your actual brother because he's still alive.."

"Looking after my brother isn't self-destructive."

"Let me ask you this: why do you want to fix this so bad?"

"Because I need him!" She'd never looked so vulnerable before. It was almost like he was talking to Annie right now.

"You need him?"

"You don't have siblings. You wouldn't understand."

No, he hadn't before, but he was really starting to understand. "He...took care of you after your father…"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Something reminded you of your father…."

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"No, of course not. Teresa Jane is a strong, independent woman. She takes care of others. Reese Lisbon, is a little girl who needs her brother to protect her because she's only pretending to be strong. Because she's hurt."

"Just...stop."

"Being hurt doesn't make you any less Teresa Jane. Latching onto your brother, and trying to mend the one broken piece that you think you can fix, won't make the hurt stop."

She started to sob. "I'm not damaged!"

He took her hand, rubbing his thumb along the backside of her hand. "I know that. Teresa Jane can hurt, too. You see, she's my green eyed girl. Sometimes, she thinks she's responsible for the world, but she's not. Right now, she's hurting. I'm not angry with her, but I am terrified that she doesn't know her blue eyed boy loves her more than anything. He has never feared anything more than losing her that night or even right now."

She had a stricken look on her face. "I wouldn't...I don't mean...to ignore your feelings."

"I know that. It's just that my green-eyed girl has a great big heart and carries a lot of weight on her rather tiny shoulders. Sometimes, she doesn't recognize that my shoulders are just a little bigger, and that it's okay to let me carry some of it, too."

She cracked a smile at that. He had her. "Come here, baby."

She leaned her forehead on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Her sobs continued as he held her and she tightened her grip around his shoulders.

"I love you. I don't mean to be so stuck in my head sometimes."

"You're not. Just let me love you through this. Your family and your friends are here. No one is put off by a Teresa Jane-or an Agent Lisbon-who's less than invincible and unable to take care of everything in the world. It's ok to need things from us and provide nothing in return."

He stayed there, holding her into his chest for a little while. Come rain or shine, he loved the woman before him more than anything. And he knew she felt the same. Even a downpour couldn't dull the shine of what they'd created.

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In the few days leading up to Jimmy's visit, Teresa started to open up to him a bit more. Though, perhaps he should have been careful what he wished for.

For the first time, she explained her assault to him.

After sliding into bed next to her as she watched Pretty Woman, he rubbed Charlotte and kissed her lips softly. "How are my fighters doing?"

She grimaced before trying to remask. He'd noticed that before, so he took a deep breath before approaching. "What is it, Teresa?"

"What is what? We're fine."

"You grimaced when I called you a fighter, just like in the hospital. There's something about that that puts you off, isn't there?"

She sighed before looking away. "He called me that."

"A fighter?"

She nodded. "After he'd shot me and I tried to fight him with a hammer-the hammer was the only thing I could reach without tipping him off-he knocked me to the floor. He hit me in the leg and told me that I was a fighter. He laughed because he liked that."

Of course, he twisted her natural fight or flight response to suit his needs and disempower her. That was probably part of the thrill for him. As he mulled over her words, he noticed her gaze growing distant. He needed her to stay with him.

"You know, he probably said that to disempower you, to make you feel hopeless."

"I know. He wanted...he wanted to torture me. He wanted me to beg for my life. He even tried to offer me a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I don't really know. I didn't bite. He kept making suggestions."

It was the words that she didn't say that spoke the loudest. "He wanted you to give yourself to him?"

"But I didn't!"

That bit of power she clung to was that she'd stood her ground. She used her skills to see through him and stand her ground-to survive. His wife was a survivor, whether she knew that or not.

"Hey, I know that you fought to get home. I know you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing! Even if you had, it's still not your fault. I'd never be angry with you."

"Sure."

He reached for her hand. Not only did she let him take it, but she squeezed his hand in return. As they worked through this, he could see the little ways in which she clung to him and affirmed the ways she needed him. Not that he needed her affirmation-but it was nice to know she was still there.

"You are a fighter, though. And that's a good thing. Your fight brought you home to me. Both of you."

He noticed she swallowed thickly, clearly trying to push down the words that would surely be her laying the blame of six deaths at her own feet again. He brought their hands to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I know what you want to say, but it's not your fault. No one believes that. If you can believe that he wanted to torture you that way and couldn't, isn't it likley he wanted to get a rise out of you in another way?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know. Maybe."

He could never fully understand, but what she'd been through was a lot for anyone.

"I'm glad you're here with me."

After a brief moment, she smiled. "I'm glad I'm here, too."

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The following Thursday, after leaving her doctor's office with a clean bill of health, she was ready to eat.

"Would you like a sandwich when we get home?"

He grinned. "I'm sure there's a joke in here about me telling my woman to get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich."

With her left hand, she swatted at him.

"Hush! But I would make you a sandwich. I am going to make myself a turkey sandwich."

"No, you're not."

She narrowed those beautiful green eyes and stared at him in disbelief. "And why aren't I?"

"You'll see."

He drove to the park near Annie's school. She looked around for a moment. "Why are we here? Babe, I'm hungry!"

He pointed toward the backseat. "Believe me: I know. That's why I packed a lunch for us to enjoy in the park on this gorgeous day."

She looked a bit unsure before quietly responding. "I wish you would have asked me first."

He nodded. She was still a bit iffy about being in public, but she was getting better about it especially since she could just walk in her boot now. Though, it was just her injuries; it was the attention she could draw. The reporters were taking the hint, but a few were rather tenacious and still wanted to talk to her. She needn't worry. He would use his own skills to avoid letting any unwanted visitors get too close to her.

He decided a bribe might work best here, so putting on his flashiest grin and batting his eyelashes, he got to work.

"I know, but I think that would have ruined the surprise. Come on. I made you a turkey and cheddar sandwich. I even packed some of your favorite cookies."

Slowly, but surely, a grin appeared across her face. She was so beautiful when she smiled for him. Even if it were a cliche, sometimes, she made him feel like the only man in the world when she did that.

"Ok, are we going to sit here all day or what?"

"Ah! That's the spirit!"

He grabbed the bag out of the backset before helping her out of the car. Well, he was doing his best to let her be as independent as possible, so he just held out his hand. With a smile, she accepted it. Hand in hand, they walked to a bench under a large oak tree. Spring really was one of the best seasons in Sacramento.

"Alright, Mr. Jane, where's my turkey sandwich? I am eating for two, and I'm starving."

"Can't we just enjoy the beauty of our surroundings for a bit? I'd like to enjoy the beauty of my wife."

Though a rosy blush was forming across her cheeks, she didn't miss a beat. "If you don't feed me soon, 'beauty' is not the word you will be using to describe me."

He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Fair enough."

Once he handed Teresa her sandwich, he grabbed his own before wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She was mostly quiet as she ate, so when she finally spoke, it startled him a bit.

"You know, this is a nice little date."

"It is. I thought a nice, quiet moment out of the house was a bit overdue."

"Hmm. It sure is nice. Not sure how my husband would feel about me being on a date with such a thoughtful, handsome man."

"He'd be sad that his green eyed girl was out with another handsome man." She laughed as he feigned hurt with a frown.

"I'll have to show him just how well my blue eyed boy treats me and how he's really raised the bar of my expectations."

There was a little hint of seductiveness in her voice. They'd not been intimate since before her attack, and with her advancing pregnancy on top of the injuries, it really wasn't something that was at the forefront of his mind. But her tone and the tap of her palm on his thigh got his blood flowing. He just swallowed thickly and quietly put those thoughts to rest.

However, that night, he was thoroughly surprised when she reached in for a goodnight kiss and slid her hand under the band of his boxers.

"Uh, baby?"

She smiled at him sweetly. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"What we usually do after a date?"

He cleared his throat as she palmed his penis. It wouldn't take much for him to be completely gone, but he needed to be sure about this.

"Are you sure about this? I don't...I don't want to hurt you."

Though he left the words "because you were injured" unspoken, she knew what his question meant. He didn't want to offend her or turn her away because as she'd said when they argued, she wasn't damaged. He just had to know she wasn't doing this because she thought she owed him, that it's what she wanted too.

She kissed his cheek. "You would never hurt me, my love."

She spoke with such a deep sincerity that he thought he might combust right there. No, he would never hurt her. He loved her unconditionally and without any reservations. Her recognition and trust made his heart beat faster.

He held her into his body and started to massage her thigh. "Okay, well, how should we do this?"

"Mmm...how about whatever feels right?"

If any phrase described who they were as a couple, as a family unit, it would be that one. She made everything feel right.

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A/N 2: So, the Tommy stuff...I included that because I can see a part of Lisbon's personality as this fixer, or the one who holds everything together, and how trauma might amplify that in other ways. Also, Tommy (as portrayed here) reminds me of a close relative whose loss of closeness I've mourned the same way. Just thought I'd put that part of the story in context a bit more! As always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!