The Red Team got back to work, all official problems resolved. Lisbon, however, had no interest in forgiving Jane for his latest offense. At first, the rest of the team was more on her side, and they were all standoffish with him for a while; it made him feel very alone and very, very guilty. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone this time, really he hadn't! But he'd made a mistake, made a terrible mess, and now he had to pay for it. He accepted the passive aggression without protest or complaint.
Van Pelt was the first to move on. Rigsby followed her, and Cho went back to his casual neutral a little while after that. Jane's plan had worked, after all, and it could have been worse - he could have actually died. Besides, it was sort of impressive, what he'd managed to pull off, his keeping what he knew to himself aside.
But Lisbon, as she had said, was done. She was absolutely done with being Jane's friend, with caring about him - completely done! Every time she even thought about maybe moving on, she felt her scars, remembered what he'd put her through, and her hatred was refueled, blazing again.
And unlike the others, she got worse with time instead of better, especially when everyone else went back to being Jane's friends. She started wanting to hurt him, like she'd let him hurt her for so long.
She started wearing the earrings Red John had made for her, every day, tying her hair back so no one could miss them. Occasionally, if she found an excuse, she would casually refer to Red John's assertions that Jane was "nothing more than a complete and utter moron with a gift that allows him to feign intelligence", expressing that she was of similar opinion. If Jane got in trouble, she avoided him, tried to get the others away from him as well so he'd have to face whatever trouble he was in completely on his own.
Jane didn't fight back. He had brought this on himself, and he knew it. But after a while, the rest of the team started to feel like things were going too far. Yeah, Jane had messed up, but Lisbon's ever-increasing cruelty towards him even months after the fact was becoming really difficult to justify. If they tried to bring it up with her, though, she would get defensive, accuse them of trying to side with someone who would hurt them just as easily as she would hurt him now.
Six months after the incident, it became clear that Lisbon was beyond reason when it came to Jane. She grew colder towards him every day, and he started breaking down under the constant zings that were turning into abuse. Cases started getting iffy, work became a struggle.
Van Pelt was talking to Lisbon the day things really got out of hand: Jane walked by, and without even pausing in what she was saying to Van Pelt, Lisbon abruptly and deliberately tripped him, catching him off-guard and sending him falling into a desk and chairs, getting hit painfully by various blunt objects. Lisbon acted like nothing was happening at all; when Van Pelt turned at the clamor and exclaimed at the sight of Jane on the floor, Lisbon became irritated with her, as though Van Pelt was just daydreaming.
"Jane, are you okay?" Van Pelt exclaimed, ignoring Lisbon now.
Lisbon grabbed her arm. "He's fine," she said disgustedly; "look at me when I'm talking to you."
"Boss…" Van Pelt shook her head, stunned by her superior's behavior - physical violence signified an escalation that needed to be headed off.
"I'm fine, Grace," Jane said softly, picking himself up.
She looked at him. "Jane-"
"It's okay," he told her, gently but certainly.
Lisbon gave him a disgusted glare, then resumed what she had been saying to Van Pelt. Van Pelt gave Jane a worried look, but went back to listening. Jane walked away, likewise acting as though nothing had happened.
And it only got worse from there. Almost more than Lisbon's cruelty, what the team noticed more and more was Jane's submissive response - he wasn't even trying to stand up for himself or defend himself from anything she threw at him. The meaner she got, the more submissive he became, until he almost stopped working entirely, as though he existed only to be Lisbon's punching bag.
How had things gotten this bad? It didn't make any sense. What was Lisbon's problem, and why was Jane so accepting of it all?
They tried talking to Bertram. He in turn tried talking to Lisbon, but she expressed nothing but contempt, not only for Jane, but also for anyone who would stick up for him - based on the things she said, it seemed that she believed Jane would hurt her and anyone else for no reason if ever given the chance, so the fact that she was doing the same to him was totally justified.
They tried talking to Jane, trying to understand what on Earth was happening, but he only told them that it was okay, and refused to say anything more. After being pressed for a while, he relented enough to reveal that he felt he deserved what she was doing to him - he had hurt her a lot more than he had meant to, and he hated himself for it, too.
But still, none of it made any sense. The Red Team's reputation began to tarnish; cases became one-sided battlefields where Lisbon focused more on hurting Jane than on doing her job or letting him do his, though he still refused to even try to resist her. She was pummeling an opponent who refused to fight back, and she just wouldn't stop.
Watching from afar, Dove and Red John's other friends slowly went from entertained to confused. Lisbon's cruelty was so excessive, so out-of-place, some started to doubt that even Red John himself would have been okay with what was going on. Of course, none of them spoke to her anymore, but it was just too much; they stopped watching, stopped cheering her on even from a distance.
Even Charlotte was baffled - she had never seen her sister like this, ever. As time went on and things got worse, she started backing off, even avoiding Lisbon, first as a reporter, then as her sister - Lisbon was beyond reason, and Charlotte, if she was honest with herself, was afraid of this person Lisbon had become.
It wasn't like Lisbon to hold such a grudge or be so offensive and hateful - she was almost a completely different person now, one nobody wanted to be anywhere near.
So what was happening?
Lisbon couldn't stop thinking about all the nightmares Jane had put her through - even when she tried to think of something else, anything else, she always came back to what he'd done to her, her scars burning as though torn open again. It was as though her mind refused to let her see or think about anything else, forced her to focus on her pain, pick at scabs to keep wounds fresh. The constant hurting made her more and more hateful in turn; it was a vicious cycle that just meant more hurt, not only for Jane, but for Lisbon as well.
And it wouldn't stop. It wasn't even really under her control anymore - there was only hurting and reacting, on both sides. She wasn't enjoying it, not really; the cold smiles she gave when she hurt Jane especially badly weren't joyful. In truth, both sides were falling apart, and neither of them felt inclined to make it stop.
Until, at last, after a year, Jane had had enough. This would go on indefinitely, he accepted that now, and he couldn't take any more. He started making arrangements; one way or another, this needed to end.
~o~
Another case barely closed, and no thanks to Lisbon's bitching. The media wasn't so interested in the Red Team anymore, thanks to what Lisbon had turned them into over the past year - Charlotte wasn't the only one avoiding Lisbon now, not by a long shot.
Jane had spoken to Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt about what he was going to do that night; when they went home, all of them were deeply worried about what would become of him. Lisbon tried to leave as well, later, but Jane cut her off, stopping her.
"Lisbon, I need to talk to you," he told her.
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," she said coldly, and she tried to push him out of the way.
"I know," he said, taking hold of her arm and forcing her back in front of him; she followed his direction, if only because the gesture was so unexpected given how submissive he'd been lately. "That's why I need to talk to you."
"You make no sense, you know that?" she said mockingly.
Jane sighed. "Look, Lisbon, I'm sorry for what I put you through," he began.
"No, you're not," she spat. "You never are."
"I am," he said firmly, "and I can't take this anymore."
Lisbon's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked suspiciously.
He had her attention now. "Lisbon, this can't go on," he told her; "I realize you hate me, and you have every right to. I'm sorry for what I did to you. But one way or the other, this has to end. Now. Tonight." He took a breath, then said, "If there is anything I can do, anything at all, to get you to forgive me, tell me now and I'll do it; and if there's nothing, then please, kill me."
Lisbon blinked.
"You won't get in trouble," he told her; "I've talked to the rest of the team, and Bertram - if you kill me, it will be deemed assisted suicide, and you can get back to your life."
"Wait," she said, "you're serious about this? You really want me to kill you? Literally kill you?"
"If you can't forgive me, yes," Jane told her, looking her straight in the eye. "Shoot me between my eyes, if that's the only way to end this." He patted his jacket. "I have a suicide note in my pocket, and I've told the others to hold to it; you won't get in trouble. I just can't do this anymore, and neither can the team or anyone else."
"Why would you…?" Lisbon's suspicious glare sharpened. "This is a trick," she said coldly.
"No, Lisbon, it's not," Jane said; "I'm not bluffing, I swear to you I'm not." And in fact, he wasn't - he really did have a suicide note, wanted it to be called assisted suicide and nothing more. If he had really hurt her that badly, he deserved it, and she had every right to end him…it was even what he wanted, if he had really messed up that much. "I'd do anything else to earn your forgiveness, too - I'd shoot myself if you wanted me to."
"Why would you go that far?" she demanded. "Why would you do that?"
He sighed sadly. "Because I can't live in a world where you hate me," he replied honestly.
She gave him an odd look, one that even he couldn't quite read. There was silence for a long minute.
"I'm sorry, Lisbon," he repeated.
She closed her eyes; Jane couldn't tell if this was because she was going to forgive him or because she was about to draw her gun and shoot him in the head. It didn't really matter by then, anyway - all that mattered was that, whatever she did next, this fight would end here and now.
"No," she said at last.
Jane bowed his head, ready to die.
"…I'm sorry," she finished.
He looked up at her, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
"I…" She turned away. "I can't stop thinking about how…how much I've…" She shook her head, her back to him still.
Jane didn't move, didn't speak.
"I didn't survive with Red John for three weeks because I wanted to live," she told him at last in an odd tone of voice. "I didn't care, not really…The reason I held on was because…I knew what my death would do to you."
"Oh, Lisbon…" He hadn't known this, and it made things so much clearer; it really was how much she cared about him that had put her through hell repeatedly - not just him, but her feelings for him.
"And there's been so much more…You've nearly died and worse so much, and I've always had time to be afraid for you, and I told you that back when…back before you…" She shook her head again.
Jane said nothing, his heart ripping into pieces.
"When I thought you were dead…I wished I was," she went on at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "What Red John did to me was nothing in comparison to how I felt that night, nothing at all."
"I'm sorry," Jane said. "I knew you'd be upset, but I…didn't realize it would be quite that much."
Lisbon was still.
"I really did think about it," Jane told her. "I didn't know if it might happen, I didn't know when it might happen, I didn't know if I'd be able to make my heart stop without losing consciousness, I didn't know if I'd be able to restart my heart even if I did manage to stop it willingly, I didn't know if I'd survive to make my heart stop…I had no idea what was going to happen, Lisbon - nothing may have been going to happen, for all I knew. I thought it was for the best that I not tell you ahead of time because of that." He bowed his head. "I was wrong. I'm sorry."
"You couldn't have known," she said tonelessly. "I…understand. I just…"
"You've been through a lot because of me," he finished for her, nodding. "I understand that now. I never meant to hurt you, Lisbon, ever - I mean that."
"I'm not sure I believe you," she said.
Jane had no response to this.
There was silence for a long minute.
"If I had told you what was going to happen, I probably would have died," Jane admitted to her at last.
Lisbon said nothing.
"Whether a person's heart shuts down of their will or not, the brain needs oxygen," he told her; "if you hadn't given me CPR that night, I would have died."
"And that's supposed to help me forgive you?" Lisbon asked, a cold edge creeping back into her tone.
"You have a right to know," he replied. "I'm grateful to you…You've saved my life several times, not just that night; if there's anything I can do to make this right, anything at all, I'd be more than happy to do it. I owe you that much and more."
Again, there was a minute of silence.
"I…I'm sorry…for the way things have been. I've been horrible," Lisbon admitted at last. "You scared me almost to death, but…you don't deserve the way I've been treating you. I just couldn't stop hurting…"
"It's okay," Jane lied.
She gave a mortified laugh in spite of it all. "No, it's not," she said.
Jane smiled momentarily himself, despite everything. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked her.
"I…" She hesitated.
Jane didn't push her.
"I…should be asking you that," she said at last.
"Of course I forgive you," Jane said without hesitation. "I've made your life hell; it's only fair that you did the same to me."
"Not to the extent that I have," Lisbon said.
He couldn't disagree. Instead he said, "I admit I never thought you were capable of being so cruel." He hesitated, then asked, "Why…were you?"
"I don't know," Lisbon sighed. "I couldn't stop thinking about it…My scars wouldn't stop hurting, and I couldn't stop remembering…I felt like you had put me through hell…either because you wanted to, or because you didn't think or care enough to realize you would. But that's not…not the way it was. Was it?" Looking back now, she herself wondered what had happened, what she had turned into and why. It was like looking back on all the time she secretly spent with Red John - it was so clear, in hindsight, how stupid and wrong her behavior had been. Yes, she had been in constant pain, but…
"No," Jane said sincerely, "and I'm sorry I've hurt you so much."
"I forgive you," she said, "and I'm sorry I overreacted." She felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted with these words. This was a grudge she was happy to let go of, and she really wasn't sure why she had clung to it so adamantly. Maybe because she…?
"Can things please go back to normal now?" Jane risked asking.
"I hope so," she said; "I will if you will."
"I will." He smiled. "Good night, Lisbon."
"Good night yourself," she said. She hadn't turned to face him once during the entire conversation.
Jane nodded, then turned and left, leaving her alone.
Lisbon stood still, but there were so many things raging around inside of her…one urge, another, another, fighting for dominance; thoughts, feelings, contradictions in the hundreds…Why had she been so horrid? What did she want?
Her hand went to her necklace.
I…want…
She turned; Jane was already walking away. She hesitated, just for a moment, then ran after him.
"Wait!" she called. "Patrick! Wait!"
He stopped and turned to face her. She ran up to him, hesitated for a split second, then wrapped her arms around his head and kissed him. He gave a start, making a surprised sound, then slowly leaned into her and kissed her back, his arms closing around her.
I'm sorry, I couldn't think of any NOT-stupid way to write this, so after a couple of days of deliberating, I just had to go with this. For the record, the end bit IS psychologically rational - it's called the spill-over effect, where an extreme of one emotion turns into an extreme of another emotion.
And because I don't say it enough: Thank you all for your support for this series, you few dedicated fans; again, I'm so glad to be writing it out at last, and I'm glad to have you all along for the ride with me. :)