A/n This one-shot I started writing ages ago and I found it (along with others) so thought I would finish it off and post it.
/
Wounded
How did this happen? How could this happen? How dare this happen? Lisbon is upset, angry and bubbling with such potent anxiety that she is almost physically shaking – or maybe that's the adrenaline coursing around her veins. It could have been worse, she is trying to tell herself as she sits on the cold wooden floor, her legs crossed, with Jane's head resting in her lap staring right back at her. The colour has drained from him, sweat has matted curls to his forehead and the lines by his eyes are more pronounced. He is doing very well at hiding his pain but from his laboured breathing and the clenching of his jaw she can tell that he is really hurting and that hurts her. His wound may be physical and will scar, but hers is emotional and the mental image of him keeling to the floor in agony, the sound of his strangle cry in the process, will scar her mind forever as she thinks about what she could have lost, and he still isn't out of the woods yet.
She fired a shot at his attacker, but he managed to get away, but she doesn't care, she only cares about Jane. She immediately rushed to his side, knelt beside his body to assess the damage whilst hurriedly calling for assistance and since then she's been cradling him affectionately, trying to stay strong for him. "I wish we could take the knife out. It's uncomfortable." The understatement of the century but he is trying to be brave for her, his wife. The knife in question is sticking out of his thigh proudly, the design of the handles tells him that it is a standard five-inch kitchen knife, kind that would be perfect for cutting smaller vegetables like mushrooms or carrots. They must have spooked the owner of the property who they suspected to have something to do with a drug trafficking ring, his violent act all but confirms it.
They were just surveying the property, looking for signs of a struggle or any indication of gang acts but there was nothing. Then out of nowhere the consultant was pushed against a wall in the living room, the noise alerting Lisbon to the scuffle, and she instantly darted from the kitchen with a hand on her holster. She caught a glimpse of the knife, the blade shining in the sunlight that peeps between the curtains, it made her panic, and she shouted a "Hey!" The fleeting interruption gave her partner enough time to shift slightly out of the way, so the knife wasn't plunged into his torso but his leg instead and then their suspect fled. "You know we can't. It is stopping you from bleeding out"" Her voice cracks at the end of her statement and when his blue eyes dart to meet her green ones, which are glistening with unshed tears, it makes him want to hug her tight, but he doesn't dare move from this position.
There was something eerie about the house when they arrived. It wasn't meant to be a complicated task hence why they went alone and when they knocked to receive no answer, his curiosity got the better of him, so he picked the lock claiming that his concern was with someone being trapped inside when he was actually just being nosy. His father always said his nosiness would get him hurt or worse and he supposes, whilst he lies on the floor all vulnerable, that this is one of the only things his old man was right about. "Where's Cho?" He groans, resisting the urge to reach down to his wound and touch the surrounding muscle. It would hurt a lot if he did, but the intrusion to his flesh feels irritated and amongst the sheer pain there is also an itchiness that almost needs scratching. This is probably because of the foreign object pushed amongst his skin and muscle, acting like a bung to stop blood escaping.
"He will be here." She attempts to calm, knowing that despite their remote location, it won't be too long until help is on its way. They've only been sat like this for a maximum of ten minutes, but it does feel like double, maybe even triple that. "Try wiggling your toes again."
His right shoe was shed not long after the incident and the sock with it. It has meant she's been able to monitor the discolouring of his skin and every so often she asks for him to move his toes. Their priority may be for him not to bleed out and die, but when he doesn't die, she needs him to be able to have use of the leg. It would make it very difficult to chase their children around the garden if he can't. After a deep breath, Jane tentatively attempts to move his toes, his focus shifting to his foot which has changed in colour over the past few minutes to a sort of purple. The movement is slight, but it is there, and he knows that this is a good thing. "Do I get a gold star?" He flippantly asks, now feeling nothing but frustrated about his current predicament, any remaining patience he had has dissipated and he wants nothing more than the medics to show up with some of the good stuff to knock him out.
"When we get home."
Since their wedding six years ago, he has only consulted on about fifteen cases and the rest of the time he has become a house husband and a very good one at that. This case he agreed to assist on because of a very complicated code that needed to be cracked, one that couldn't be worked out by Wylie's computers because it is too random. He finally made progress and that brought them here but the error he made is that he thought the person in the house was a potential victim, someone threatened by the gang but evidently not. If they knew that then they wouldn't have come alone. He feels so stupid for getting it wrong but maybe that's thanks to being so out of practice.
He hasn't missed the consulting work like she thought he would. She thought that he would need the mental stimulation, but it turns out he got enough of that from building their wonderful forever home and now from looking after their energetic children. They're both thinking of them in this moment, knowing how important it is that they get out of this situation so that they don't have to grow up without a father. Jane and Lisbon both grew up without a mother, they understand the difficulties that can be faced when only having the one parent especially after losing the other to tragic circumstances. It can tear a family apart and they can't let that happen.
So when she watches as his eye lids become heavy and his breathing shallows, she is immediately lightly tapping him awake. "Don't fall asleep." She demands, knowing the risk that once he shuts his eyes that he could never open them again and he knows that too. It is difficult, but he manages to let his eyes flutter open once more and he's trained his sight on her face, trying to focus on its details.
Her appearance has changed over the past few years. Slight changes that come with natural aging and having to rush around after two young children, but she is still as beautiful as the day he met her, but right now her concern is obvious and has made her small wrinkles more pronounced and the skin under her eyes darker. "You have the exact same anxious look as Cassie gets." Cassie is their nearly three-year-old daughter who is the spitting image of her mother, with dark hair (that has the slight trace of curls) and stunning green eyes. It is her birthday next week and they both want this case wrapped up so she can take her planned leave, they are meant to be taking a trip to Port Arthur, but it won't happen now that he is injured. As irritating as that is, it is just a relief that he is alive.
"Like mother like daughter I guess."
"It is the same look she gave me last week before telling me that she had an accident." He recalls, a slight trace of a smile ghosting his lips although it appears like more of a grimace. "I don't know why she was so nervous. I was never going to be annoyed at her." His thoughts drift off to his children and she manages a smile when she notes his content expression, it is like he can't feel the pain anymore and it won't be the first time his children have cured his anguish. "Nicholas has his talent show in a few days. I have to go to that, I promised."
"You will be recovering-"
"But I promised." And Patrick Jane doesn't break promises, not anymore. Nicholas is their five-year-old who has a mop of dark curls and his father's blue eyes as well as his showmanship. His talent show act is of course a magic one, he has been taught all sorts of tricks from the moment he could comprehend them. He will definitely dazzle the audience and will be taking home the trophy. Jane is sure of it. "Kid is a magician."
"A troublemaker more like." She corrects although she is smiling. Their kids have different traits from their parents. They're intelligent, witty, and never fail to make them laugh. Although Cassie is much more cautious compared to her older brother, she also has a naughty streak. Just last week her mother came home from work to find her sneakily engineering a plan to get a cookie from the jar. The young girl went wide eyed when she was found out.
All this talk of their children has her smile faltering before it turns into a frown, tears springing at the corners of her eyes. "Why did you have to get hurt dammit?" She questions, now not being able to help a tear fall and even though he is weak, he manages to reach up to lovingly catch it, stroking her cheek gently. "Almost on a weekly basis I tell you not to worry about me. That this is my job and I'm very good at it, but now you've been stabbed."
"It could have been worse."
"I know, I know." She sighs. "But I think I'm now understanding your worries."
He wants to say something along the lines of I told you so just because he wants her to close the dangerous FBI chapter in her life, but she needs to do it if she thinks it is right, not because he wants her to. That much he has learnt to realise since he formally left their employment after they got married. "We will talk once I'm on the mend but don't make any rash decisions." He decides on and it definitely takes her by surprise. She thought that he would leap at the chance to tell her to quit her job, but that hasn't come. Maybe she shouldn't be so shocked, he has definitely made personal growth the more they've settled. "But we shouldn't go on missions together anymore..." Even though he feels much better having her at an arm's length. "...if we were both to get badly hurt or worse, who would look after Nicholas and Cassie?"
Technically their legal guardians if something were to happen to Jane and Lisbon are the Rigsby's, but they've already got four kids in their household and who knows how they would cope with two more. This isn't a depressing thought she wants to dwell on. "You're right." She agrees and strokes a hand down his chest comfortingly. "And we will talk."
It isn't long before Cho come hurtling through the door with other agents and medics in tow. Even he manages to look worried at the scene in front of him, one of his friends is wounded being cradled by his other friend. He promised them both – separately – that he would look after them. He understands what is at stake with them having two young children at home. Today, this has been a disaster, and if they had lost either of them or both he doesn't know how he would have handled it. Being in charge, the boss, is a big responsibility and he doesn't want to lose any agents, especially two of his oldest friends.
Lisbon gets to her feet and reluctantly steps away from her husband, giving the medics space to work on him but she makes sure that she stays within sight, for both her comfort and his. She senses her boss walk to her side and straightaway she is saying, "He will be fine." But that may be to put her own mind at ease.
"The knife will have stopped him from bleeding out." She takes this as an agreement to her statement and distractedly hums. The vision of Jane being looked after by the medics is almost difficult to watch. They are all working in a frenzy, each with their own separate jobs, but to her it just looks like a mass of moving arms and him lying motionless. Her hand makes its way to the cross and ring hung around her neck, she plays with them both as a way of seeking reassurance. It does eventually come in the form of Cho's hand laying on the small of her back and when she leans to rest her head on his shoulder, he properly wraps his arm around her waist. He doesn't care if this is professional or not, Teresa Lisbon is like a sister to him and in this moment, she needs support and there is no-one else here to give it to her.
Jane is sedated at the scene, so he is drifting out of consciousness as they leave the house and head to the hospital and he doesn't rise for many hours; six, maybe even seven, but when he does, she is sat at this bedside, in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, sloping forward with her head in her hands. It is an image he hopes to never see again. "Hey." He croaks and immediately her head lifts, a relieved smile forming on her face. "What did I miss?"
"Hey yourself." What she wants is to be able to engulf him in a hug and kiss him senseless, but she knows that this isn't wise right now. He will be really sore. "They took you into theatre to remove the knife and stop the bleeding. It went as smoothly as it probably could have done." She says with great gladness.
"That's good." This may all be the case, but he still feels like he has been hit by a train. Mass exhaustion has consumed him probably down to the concoction of drugs and anaesthetic. His leg is a little tingly, but he supposes that is better than the agony he was experiencing at his attacker's house, although where his wound is feels inflamed. This will be because of the stitches, and it is deeply unpleasant. "Have you ever been stabbed before?"
"No."
"I wouldn't recommend it." He tries to joke but the look on her face is serious, and he quickly appreciates that this isn't the time to make jokes. "I'm sorry, I love you."
"I love you too." Her hand finds his on the edge of the bed, and she lovingly runs her thumb over his knuckles as she holds it in his. "You will be staying here tonight, maybe tomorrow night too. They need to make sure you've got no nerve damage or anything and there will need to be discussions on rehabilitation."
"Okay." This is the first she has heard him agree to doctor's orders and it is almost worth smiling about. Almost. "What time is it?" He asks but then another question hits him, and she observes the brief expression of panic that flashes across his features. "And where are the kids?"
"It has gone seven and the kids are with their Uncle Cho at our place." Cho offered when they started to load the mentalist into the ambulance and she was, is, very grateful for it. "He has said he will feed them and get them to bed. Visiting time ends here at eight so I will leave then for home." Home. It has been six years and he still gets a flutter in his chest whenever he hears her say it, he is surprised that his heart monitor doesn't pick it up. "And we do need to talk about the future and my job."
"Teresa. It's okay, you-"
"No." She interrupts with a shake of her head. "I want my children to grow up with two parents unlike what me and my brothers had. I also worry about what will become of you if something were to happen to me." Her mind thinks back to her own father and what the grief of his wife's passing did to him, did to their family. Lisbon knows that Jane wouldn't be neglectful or abusive to their children, but she has seen what grief does to him and he doesn't deserve to go through that again. "I'm not saying I want to leave the FBI or law enforcement, but there must be something I can do which isn't in the field so much."
During her spiel, her attention drifted to their hands and the IV line leading into the back of his. An indication of his vulnerability, of humans' vulnerability, and of how precious life is. It could just be taken from either of them in a moment. For a long time, all life was to her is her work and although that still remains an important part of her, priorities change. She has three priorities; one is in this bed and the other two are monkeying about at home. "We will talk." He agrees and when her focus shifts to him, she sees the earnest yet loving expression on his face. "Let's wait for this to blow over before you go make any momentous career decisions. Okay?"
"Okay."
Like most of the time, their conversation then changes to talk about their children. Discussing what could be done about Nicholas' talent show and what new plans could be made for Cassie's birthday. They chat until he is too fatigued to anymore and she is gently pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, with him slipping into the land of nod, before she leaves him be for the night, with promise to return in the morning.