AN: Four-part story it is!
Still Lisbon's POV, since I'm not even going to attempt to figure out what Jane was doing.
On an unrelated note: I spend a lot of time browsing the wonderful world of Pinterest. Yesterday, under the "Hair and Beauty" tab, I found a picture of Emmanuelle Chriqui. Don't get me wrong – she is absolutely freaking beautiful. But before I could stop myself, I realized I had wrinkled my nose and was practically hissing.
Coffee and Confessions
Part III
She was almost panting by the time she reached the door to the hotel room. There was a sick feeling in her stomach, like a lead weight.
"Kirkland!" she yelled, pushing past the splintered doorframe. "Jane!"
The first thing she saw was the crumpled body of Lorelei, hair dyed a sunshiny yellow, now stained with blood. There was a gun next to her limp fingers.
She fought off the panic.
"Here," came Kirkland's voice, and she wheeled around. He was standing, but she hardly saw him.
At his feet was Jane, lying face down on the carpet, his own blonde hair streaked with a touch of red.
She staggered over to him, heart in her mouth. Frantically, she reached for his wrist, nearly fainting with relief when she felt a steady pulse. Every stupid thing he had done, every time he had ignored her, all the pain he had caused, ceased to exist in her mind in that second. The only thing that mattered was that she hadn't lost him.
"He's alive," she breathed. "Call an ambulance."
From a distance, she heard the dial tones on Kirkland's phone. "I'm going to flag down Cho and Rigsby," he said, walking back out of the room.
With some difficulty, she got Jane to his back, heart contracting when she saw the rising bruises on his face. Carefully, she pulled his head into her lap, fingers searching for the gash in his scalp. There was a welt the size of a goose-egg behind one ear.
"Jane," she said, lightly tapping him on the cheek. "Jane, wake up."
There was no response.
"Come on, Jane," she urged, the fingers against his cheek gaining more force. "Please."
His forehead wrinkled, eyelids fluttering. He groaned, one hand coming up to run through his hair.
One eye opened slowly, then the other. It took him a moment, but he managed to focus on her face eventually.
"Oh, hey, Lisbon," he whispered, smiling. The bruise on his face caused him to grin lopsidedly, giving him an air of psychosis.
She pushed his hair off his forehead. "What happened?" she asked softly.
Jane blinked several times. "I bought a cowboy hat," he said, finally. His eyes glazed again for a moment, and she wondered how severely he had been rattled.
He found her free hand, grip unexpectedly tight. "Lorelei?" he breathed.
"Dead," she told him, and he let out a sigh.
"Damn," he told her, then groaned again, touching his ribs gingerly.
She followed the movement with a concerned expression. "Jane, what happened to you, specifically?"
"Lorelei happened," he said, turning his head toward the sound of Cho and Rigsby entering the room, Kirkland on their heels. He coughed, and she was alarmed to see a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, guys," he added.
Cho met her worried eyes. "Ambulance will be here soon," he said.
There was silence then, and Lisbon could take a moment to appreciate the picture they must make. A dead body in the foreground, three armed police officers standing awkwardly in a small hotel room, and…her. On the floor with Jane's bloody head cradled in her lap, leaning over him far enough that her hair was partially covering both of them from view. His fingers were still wrapped around hers, a detail she was sure hadn't been overlooked by the rest of the men present.
After what seemed like hours, they heard the sound of wailing sirens approaching.
Her mind was racing. Yes, he was conscious, but he clearly wasn't himself. Oh, God, what if there was some internal injury she couldn't see, something that might be killing him, even now?
And had Lorelei fired at Kirkland? It didn't seem unlikely; she had tried to cut off Jane's fingers once, for God's sake.
She should be sorry that they had lost their link to Red John, but she couldn't force the emotion. Truthfully, selfishly, she was almost glad. One more fetter that Jane could be free of. Although she was guessing it was unlikely that Lorelei hadn't told him anything.
The paramedics stormed through the door, wheeling a stretcher, and she untangled herself from Jane. As grateful as she was for professional help, she missed the warmth of his body against hers.
So she stood between Cho and Rigsby, arms wrapped surreptitiously around herself, watching as the medics checked Jane's vitals and visible injuries.
In the meantime, a second ambulance arrived, and was tending to Lorelei's body.
"Does she have anything on her?" she heard Kirkland ask. "Anything at all?"
"Not that we found," an EMT replied. "We'll let you know if we come up with something, though."
The paramedics refused to let her ride in the back of the ambulance with Jane, which made her very nervous.
"Let's go, boss," Cho said. "Rigsby can go with Kirkland this time."
Shrugging, she followed her second in command to the Suburban. She needed to focus, she knew, needed to get back on track. But, like every time Jane had been hurt, her world revolved around him, and everything else be damned.
They had driven several miles before Cho spoke.
"Boss," he said in his usual emotionless tenor. "About that conversation you had with Jane back at HQ."
She turned, brows furrowing. This was a decidedly unexpected topic of discussion, especially from Cho, whom she suspected would rather be hit by a car than discuss feelings – his or anyone else's.
"What about it?" she asked, with just a hint of warning in her tone.
"When he recovers…" he said slowly, "do you want me to kick his ass?"
For the first time in what seemed like days, she laughed. "It's something to consider, I suppose."
"The offer stands indefinitely. Rigsby is in on it, too."
She felt a wave of affection for her team. Despite all the trouble she had gotten them in, the suspensions, the investigations, they were still loyal to a fault.
"I appreciate it," she said, smiling. "But hopefully it'll be something we can work out on our own."
Cho nodded thoughtfully. "But if that doesn't work, ass kicking makes a solid back-up plan."
She resisted the urge to throw her arms around the man. "It certainly does," she agreed.
XxXxXxXxX
By the time they reached the hospital, Jane had been taken for a CT scan. Rigsby had gone in search of coffee, leaving Kirkland to lounge in the forest green vinyl chairs in the waiting room.
Lisbon took the empty seat on his left. "What happened in there?" she asked, pulling her professionalism around her like a cloak.
"I kicked the door in," he said, clearly replaying the scene in his mind. "I identified myself. The first thing I saw was her, Lorelei, pointing a gun at me. I told her to freeze, but she fired. She missed, wide to the right. I think the bullet is still in the wall, actually. Then I returned fire." He ran a hand through his hair.
"After I knew she was dead, I started checking the rest of the room. I had just found Jane when you came inside." Kirkland's eyes glanced over her shoulder, and she heard approaching footsteps.
A white-jacketed doctor stood in front of them, the ubiquitous stethoscope around his neck. "You're with Mr. Jane, yes?"
Lisbon stood, aware her heart was pounding wildly. "Yes."
The other man sighed. "He has some significant internal bleeding," she said. "We're prepping him for surgery right now."
"Oh, God," she whispered, and she felt Kirkland lightly touch her back.
"However," the doctor continued, "the good news is that his brain is completely fine. He'll have one hell of a headache for a few days, but all things considered, he's very lucky."
"As far as this surgery goes…" Kirkland began, but seemed unsure of how to word his question.
"I see no reason why it wouldn't go well," the doctor said. "Although there is always a risk with surgery, I am very confident in Mr. Jane's chances of making a full recovery." He held their eyes for a moment, making sure they understood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get scrubbed in."
She ran her hands down her face, fighting for control. She was a Senior Agent of the California Bureau of Investigation, for God's sake, and she would not break down in some dingy waiting room in the middle of Nowhere, USA.
"I need to call my director," she said in the general direction of Kirkland.
Bertram answered on the second ring. "Tell me you have good news."
She took a deep breath. "Lorelei is dead. She fired on Kirkland. Jane is on his way to surgery right now. From what we've gathered, Lorelei beat the hell out of him before we arrived."
There was a pause. "Lorelei beat him up? Why? Wasn't he helping her?"
"I have no idea, sir. Jane wasn't particularly coherent. But given the apparent evidence, it certainly doesn't look like they were on the same team." She tried to inject more certainty into her voice than she felt. Maybe, just maybe, she could get Bertram on her side.
"Then why was he even there in the first place, Lisbon?" There was a decided note of skepticism in Bertram's voice.
"Again, sir, I won't know until I talk to Jane, but I imagine he has a reason." She waited for a moment, trying to figure out the direction she wanted to take. "Has anyone from the supermax found evidence linking Jane to the breakout?"
Bertram sighed. "Not a bit. In fact, as far as they can tell, Lorelei orchestrated the whole thing totally without help. That's impossible, I know, but they haven't managed to make a connection with anyone else."
Deep in her heart, she felt a small stirring of hope.
Over the line, she heard a knocking. "Lisbon, I need to go," Bertram said. "I want regular updates, just as soon as you learn anything new."
"Yes, sir," she said, but the call had already ended.
Would it be possible to get Jane out of this?
Abruptly, she remembered that she had sworn she was washing her hands of all of this. All Jane did was manipulate her, use her, and give her nothing in return but paperwork, headaches, and a broken heart.
I'm thinking that love is strange. She heard his voice clearly in her mind, and she knew that she could no sooner walk away from him than she could stop breathing. It was unhealthy, ridiculous, and she hated herself for it, but there was nothing she could do.
Besides, it was all probably irrelevant at the moment. He had to make it out of surgery before she worried about his career.
Hell, forget about his career. The first thing she would need to worry about was keeping him out of jail.
Three hours and countless cups of coffee later, the doctor returned to tell them that Jane had tolerated surgery very well, and that he was now in recovery.
By that time, the small room was filled with a small army of law enforcement officers. Kirkland had pulled some strings and had managed to get an assurance that Lisbon could talk to Jane before any formal charges were made. He had repeatedly pointed out that there was no proof Jane had actually helped Lorelei escape.
She assumed he had been on the phone with his Homeland Security colleagues. He seemed better informed than she was. From the way the other officers deferred to him, she realized he had more power than he let on. She wondered what else he did at DHS.
A half hour went by before she was taken back to see Jane. His eyes were opened, though heavy, and under the fluorescent lights, he looked almost ghostly.
"Hey," she said, coming to stand by his bed.
"Hey, yourself," he all but whispered.
"Jane," she frowned, ignoring her instincts to keep the conversation light, "you need to tell me what happened before someone charges you with a felony. There's an entire room full of men in suits outside of those doors, and they want answers."
He cracked a small smile. "I feel great, Lisbon, thanks for asking."
She tamped down her annoyance. "Jane. How did you wind up with Lorelei?"
He read her face, noting her deadly serious eyes, and sighed, shifting himself with a wince. "I was out driving," he said, and she perched on the edge of his bed. "Out of nowhere, I saw her. Obviously, people wandering free from a supermax facility is a bad thing. So I stopped and asked her if she wanted a ride."
"Instead of calling the cops?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"I was trying not to spook her," he said. "Anyway, I decided to take the opportunity to get some more information from her. I thought that if I could make her think that I was going to help her escape, she would give me something I could use in return."
"And what were you really planning on doing with her?" There was an edge to her voice that she hadn't intended.
"Leading her back to you, of course," he declared, eyes widening innocently.
She sighed. "You're going to need to lie better than that, Jane."
"Who said I was lying?" He frowned at her. "Lisbon, do you seriously think that I was intending to help a Red John disciple escape? Really? Do you know me at all?"
She held his eyes. "Sometimes I don't, Jane. Not at all. Sometimes I think you're capable of anything."
There was genuine hurt in his expression now, but she found she didn't care. "You'd better get the holes in your story worked out," she told him. "One mistake and you're in prison."
His remark about her knowing who he was had rankled. What she had said was absolute truth – some days, especially lately, he was a total stranger. And he could go to hell for thinking that she should know better.
"I'm sending the rest of the police in now," she said, softly. "Be careful what you say."
She was almost at the door before he spoke again. "Don't you even want to know what Lorelei told me?"
Lisbon turned. "Do I?"
He was smiling again, but it was harsh. "You do. I'm not telling you now, but rest assured, this wasn't all for nothing. I have more than enough leverage to keep me out of prison, Lisbon."
"I hope so," she said, emotionlessly.
She kept her face stoic as she returned to the packed waiting area. Quickly, she scanned the room, eyes finding Kirkland after a moment. He hurried over to her.
"Well?" he asked.
She shrugged. "He's all yours."