A/N: Not much dialogue here, but I hope you like it nonetheless. It's also a bit dark.
And thank you all the wonderful people who have taken the time to review. It feeds the author:)
Cho sat in the quiet room. He was in that surreal world between wakefulness and dreaming, that could only be induced by a long term stress and insomnia. He listened, but didn't hear anything else than the clock ticking on the wall. It was dark, only moonlight peaking through the curtains creating a play of shadows and light on the floor.
The figure on the bed in the middle of the room was still, shrouded in darkness, hidden away from prying eyes. Cho was overwhelmed by protectiveness and although he knew the agents that were in the protective duty, he demanded to take part himself. To see that Lisbon was kept safe and to punish himself, for every time Lisbon asked for any news of Jane and he couldn't give any, the disappointment and panic grazing her eyes burned him. He welcomed the pain as he needed it to keep going, to keep looking for the people responsible.
Today was the fourth day. Lisbon had pulled through, although it had been touch and go for a while. It was decided to keep her recovery a secret as the motive behind the attack was unknown and they couldn't be sure that her life wouldn't be threatened again. He had even made an appearance at the press conference to give credit to the reporters claims and his performance was nothing but the naked truth as that had been the night when Lisbon had been fighting for her life.
No motive could be find why someone wanted Lisbon dead and Jane alive. It had been a carefully planned operation as there had been plenty of occasions when either Jane or Lisbon had been out and about alone or together with the team, but it was rare that the two of them would be out by themselves if not on a crime scene. They had been clearly targeted together, but why?
They had found evidence of the black van around the CBI building and even around Lisbon's and Jane's houses for several weeks before the actual incident, so obviously someone had put the time and effort into the plan, taking the opportunity to execute it as soon as possible.
Van Pelt had been able to track the van to a small, private airport, but then the trail had gone cold. At that point the FBI became involved as it was clear that Jane had been taken out of state. The investigation was being taken seriously as a federal agent had been attacked and a consultant kidnapped, but the progress had been painstakingly slow. Every time they made progress, someone threw up a smoke screen and they were blind for that crucial moment and the trail was lost.
All the evidence pointed towards a large and powerful organisation, tendrils infiltrating all aspects of life. How an organisation could be so slippery and invisible and why no one had paid any attention to it before, were the burning questions in the mind of FBI. They didn't like to be taken for fools.
The CBI team had been given free access to the investigation, which had made everybody's life so much easier. Even Lisbon was taking part from her hospital bed, threatening to walk out every few hours only to be reminded that her evident resurrection would possibly put Jane into a danger. It pained Cho to see how deflated Lisbon became, how the spark of hope left her eyes as she leaned back to her pillows.
Cho made sure that he always had a night shift and sometimes he just sat in her room even if it wasn't his turn to be there. Lisbon was aware of his silent vigil, but she never commented on it. Neither did he comment when he heard her crying at nights. They both occupied the same dark room and the same dark thoughts, but were still unable to cross the chasm of guilt and loneliness.
Cho silently continued to observe the passing of time as the dark and light pattern became more intertwined on the floor.
XXX
Jane sat next to the window all night, watching the moon travel across the sky. He was consumed by guilt and grief, which were slowly leading towards shut down. He was cold, but he didn't move. When the maid came to add more wood to the fireplace, he didn't stir. When she brought food, he was utterly still.
When his wife and daughter were killed, he suffered a nervous breakdown. He was utterly shell shocked and ravished by grief and guilt. He blamed himself for all that had taken place and he had become self destructive until he had learned to direct all that guilt and anger towards Red John. But it hadn't changed the fact that it was still his fault what had happened, however much he wanted to put the blame on Red John.
He was immersed in those same emotions once again and this time there was nobody else to blame but him. How due to him another amazing woman had lost her life. Again. And he hadn't even told her how much she meant to him. His last words to her had been "Thank you" instead of "I love you", which pained him above all. How selfish he had been in thinking that by not telling her, she would be safe.
It felt like his frozen soul was being twisted into a tighter coil, tighter and tighter until he would snap and he didn't have any inclination of trying to stop it. He wouldn't even have been able to as he had sunken beyond the tipping point where there was no return. Pour enough trauma on one person, whose mental health is fragile to start with and the shattering happens fast.
He sat and watched the moon until it became clouded and it started snowing. Sharp, piercing, beautiful snowflakes, falling to the ground. How fitting it was that the sky was weeping frozen tears with him.
TBC
