Abbott

The bullpen feels like a morgue.

The empty desk draws and repels focus, according to how each team member grieves. Wiley casts furtive glances that occasionally turn into vacant stares as he tunes out everything but his new grief. Cho subtly orients himself elsewhere, his face and posture stiffer and more grim even than usual.

And Lisbon...

She appears to be very focused on her work, but I know better. She has a harder job than most, because she has two focal points for her grief. The empty desk, and the empty couch.

She has avoided the topic of Jane's absence as much as she feels that she can. In other words, as much as I let her. She says that he's "working through" some things. But I can see in her tension that she isn't entirely okay with how he is handling it. Her evasions reveal her uncertainty. She isn't even sure that he will come back of his own free will.

I am so glad that I can pretend not to know this.

On the other hand, I can find no comfort in the thought that soon it will no longer be my problem. Professionally speaking, that is. Cho will take over as supervising agent, and I will move to the DC office.

But my gut tells me that it's my mess, and I ought to take some responsibility for cleaning it up.

I should have known that dropping my guard was dangerous. In fact, I did know. I was trained to believe that you keep the private and the professional strictly separate. Less messy. Fewer distractions. But ever since Jane came, I have had to adjust for his style. It meant trying things that were not strictly according to regulations. And there was little point in maintaining professional distance with a man who seems to pluck your thoughts right out of the air and publish them in the most annoying way possible.

Opening up was worth the risk, I decided, because the job became that much more productive and enjoyable when I went with the flow. I maintained just enough reserve to preserve my authority and keep my team out of trouble.

Otherwise, I let myself be human and approachable. To my unit, at least. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

And now the office has been drained of its energy, every team member mired in their own unique blend of survivor's guilt, loss, and emotional turmoil. Because Wylie has essentially lost not just a team mate but his first love. (I encouraged that. Was that a bad move on my part?) Cho feels responsible for Vega's loss, and it has shaken his confidence about his leadership. He's still processing that. I can see how much more emotional he is, even under his typical stoicism.

And again, Lisbon. I knew when Jane insisted that she be included in his team that he carried a torch for her. I had suspected since the disassembly of the CBI that Lisbon was infatuated with him. Tried everything that I could think of to avoid that potential train wreck. And finally gave in. With predictable results. In spite of its professional success, my team developed the personal drama of a poorly written soap opera. My attempts to steer it towards a positive resolution were ineffective at best. I breathed a sigh of relief when it seemed that they had finally resolved it between themselves. Nor did I mind when the two decided to keep their relationship... well, secret would be putting it too strongly. Quiet might be about right. Whatever the office gossips said about it, they had to make up from fairly scant evidence into threadbare speculations that didn't hold much interest.

At least, not to anyone whose professional reputation didn't depend upon their relationship's continued success.

But while I admit to being somewhat of a romantic at heart, I knew better than to suppose that "true love" would fix the worst of the conflicts between Jane and Lisbon. I've been married too long to think that romance is a magic formula for solving all life's problems. And if anything, sexual involvement is more of a complicating factor than the panacea that popular fiction makes of it. It takes bone deep commitment and continual effort to sustain even the best of relationships.

Whether either party had what it took to make that attempt was something I had to take on faith. After all, what choice did I really have?

I know exactly how useless it would have been to forbid interoffice dating.

So perhaps this was not something I could have avoided.

Even in the midst of this crisis, I must acknowledge that the very attempt would have been wrong headed. Would I want to be responsible for a team that was not emotionally involved enough to feel it deeply when its newest member was killed? The fact that we care for one another makes us a better unit. Certainly I can only be grateful that every member of the team, including Vega, stuck their necks out so that Lena and I would not be smeared and undermined for the purposes of political power and vengeance.

Wasn't my biggest regret in the wake of Vega's death that I hadn't taken time to speak to her personally that day? If that's the worst thing I had on my conscience in this instance, I'm doing pretty well. And a man who wishes to be more involved with the people he works with... I can't help but feel that such a man is to be admired. Even envied. Whatever the FBI training protocols say.

But I'm still not in the clear. A healthy sense of loss in this office can be worked through. But what is happening with Jane is not a healthy response to loss. There's no question that the man is passionately in love. But instead of sharing his grief with Lisbon, he heads for the hills. I don't think it's a lack of commitment. The man spent 10 years hunting down his late wife's killer, and still wears her ring. It seems to me that the reason he left is that he lacks the coping skills to face further loss. And I should have seen that coming.

I can't even fathom the trauma he must have endured from the death of his wife and daughter. I spent enough effort investigating him and his team in the wake of the Blake Association that I know something of the emotional toll it took. I know he spent some time in an institution. Suicidal tendencies and vengeance may be very natural initial responses to the horror that he endured. Had I been in his shoes, I can't imagine responding better. Can't imagine it at all, it hurts to think about. The fact that Jane worked through it and came out passing for sane is remarkable. But his approach didn't help him build meaning and resilience that would last in the long term. So when he faces death like this, he bolts.

And who knows what's been going on beneath that calm, cool facade since he and Lisbon got together? He never let on, but the idea of Lisbon's death had to have crossed his mind several times over the past few months since Miami. Perhaps this escape response has been building up since then. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until something had to give.

When I first brought Jane back to the states, having him disappear this way was reason to hunt him down and lock him up. I know better, now. I should never have sought him out under these circumstances. Forced him to perform, continually exposed him to death and ugliness. He's done enough for the greater good, and under the worst of circumstances. How can I, in good conscience, allow him to continue to be exploited for talents that have already cost him far too much?

Cho understands this. I'll make sure to encourage him to let the agreement slide, if it is necessary for Jane's well-being. The higher-ups might not like it. He can put the blame on me, if necessary. Meanwhile, I owe Lisbon, too. Sure, I helped to reunite her with the man she loves. But I delivered him in worse shape than I found him.

So she can use this case as an excuse to get him back here. I think he will have to work this out with her eventually, but the need of the team might help make that sooner rather than later. And whatever happens between them after that, I will not let the FBI be a factor. If they can find some peace out of all this, then I will have eased my conscience.