Mend This Tear- chapter eight
DISCLAIMER: The Mentalist does not belong to me. It is the creation of Bruno Heller. I'm writing this fiction to express my love for the series and maybe vent a little.
The first thing Teresa saw when she opened her eyes was a flickering fluorescent light over her head. The first thing she heard was Patrick's voice. He had that high pitch he sometimes got when being particularly emphatic about something.
"Can you please do something about the damn light?"
Teresa's bed was surrounded by a curtain, but there was a crack located conveniently right in her line of sight. She saw Jane standing, holding his jacket in one hand, the other in his vest pocket. He was arguing with a nurse.
"As I've ready explained, the lights in the ER cannot be turned off individually. We need to see to be able to see to administer to the other patients," the woman said patiently.
"Then call maintenance and have them remove the unit, I mean, it's not even working properly."
Lisbon snorted. The noise attracted Patrick's attention and he glanced through the gap he had purposely left open to keep an eye on her. Seeing that she was conscious, he walked over and pulled the curtain open to enter her 'room'.
"You're awake?"
As she sat up in her bed, Lisbon registered the relieved yet somewhat wary expression on his face. But like many things Jane, she didn't bother analyzing it. It would serve no purposed other than driving her crazy. She already had her hands, rather, her mind, full with what she couldn't let go of regarding her consultant.
"Your complaining is more annoying than that light," Teresa pointed out, attempting, and failing, to insert irony in her lilt.
He would obsess over seemingly insignificant details and overlook the bigger picture, she thought. He's been like that since they met and she doubted he'd ever change, especially since he was usually right.
Patrick gave her a smug smile, and Lisbon knew that despite the lack of intonation in her voice, he knew exactly what she was thinking. She wrinkled her nose at him, conveying her disgust with his ego.
Their silent chat ended when her nurse joined them.
"Hello Teresa," Isabella said with a smile as she moved forward to take her temperature, "how're you feeling?"
"Fine."
"No fever. That's good. I'll let the doctor know you're awake," said the nurse.
"While you're at it, how about you ask him if, you know, he can take a look at her?" Jane gestured his head towards Lisbon, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Isabella ignored him. Having dealt with enough worried husbands in her time she knew he meant no harm.
As soon as the nurse left, Lisbon turned to look at Jane.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here? Jane countered. He draped his jacket over a chair near her bed before resting his hands on its back.
"An ambulance brought me, I think." Lisbon said dryly, wondering how long she's been there, wondered how long he's been there.
"My car brought me," he told her, straightening up from the chair to roll down his shirt sleeves.
"Quit it."
"What?"
"Quit stalling. How'd you know I was here?"
"Oh, Hightower was kind enough to give me a call," he said with a pleased smile.
"Hightower?"
"Cho told her, and before you ask, EMT's called the first number on your speed dial when they found you. They reached him, he called Hightower, she called me.
Lisbon groaned.
"There was no need for her to find out, I'm perfectly fine!"
"Sure you are," he nodded smiling, "It's perfectly normal for someone to suddenly stop breathing and almost die."
Jane's voice had grown an edge towards the end of his sentence. He sounded almost accusing, like he was demanding an explanation. And in case she missed it, he made it obvious for her.
"You never answered my question. Why are you here, Lisbon?"
His interrogation was thwarted when Lisbon's doctor chose that exact moment to show up. He was an older man who looked a bit the worse for wear.
"I'm glad you're awake, Ms. Lisbon. You can help me clear some things-"
"Teresa," Jane interrupted. The doctor looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Lisbon knew that fact didn't bode well for the man considering how impatient Jane seemed with his tardiness, and his ill-timing when he finally showed up.
"Excuse me?"
"Really Dr…." Jane looked at his name tag, "Sherman. Has it been so long since you were a student that you've forgotten simple bedside manners? Patients feel better when you call them by their first name. It makes your interaction more intimate, thus lessens any fear they may have towards their predicament."
The befuddled man looked from the insulting blond man, to the stoic brunette patient on the bed who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. It wasn't hard to guess which of the two was really feeling fear.
"You are?"
"Patrick Jane."
"Patrick," the doctor said, using his best bedside manner, "I apologize for the oversight. It's been a long night. Now, if we can get back to the matter at hand?"
Jane, appeased, gestured graciously with his arm.
"By all means."
"Now, Teresa, I have some questions for you."
"If it means I can get out of here ASAP then, fire away," Lisbon said, giving the older man an impressed smile. Besides Mashburn, she's never saw anyone manage to handle Jane so smoothly. And Mashburn didn't really count because he and Jane just got along naturally.
"So tell me what happened," Sherman asked, pen poised to take notes.
"Nothing. I got home from work, went out for a run-"
"We recently closed a grueling case out of town, followed by a pretty exciting day yesterday, and you decided to go for a midnight run?" Jane interrupted with a frown.
"It wasn't midnight," Lisbon started, but Jane was relentless.
"It was when they found you."
"And how would you know?" she snapped.
"I read the EMT's report."
The doctor coughed pointedly. They both looked at him sheepishly before Lisbon continued.
"That's basically it. I suddenly felt nauseous and stopped to heave into some bushes. That's when I realized I was having trouble breathing and called 911."
Sherman nodded.
"Now your x-rays are clear, so you don't have pneumonia or an infection. Your toxicology report was also clean…" The doctor trailed off when he realized that Teresa was glaring suspiciously at Patrick.
"Why'd you have them run a tox screen on me?"
"What? You were out of it and we just wanted to make sure you weren't poisoned."
"We?" Lisbon replied in distress. The thought of someone else seeing her in this state was worrisome.
"Me and Cho," Jane clarified, glad to share the blame, "apparently, he's your medical proxy, which by the way, I still can't believe. Just so you know, I'm completely devastated," he said in mock hurt.
"Cry me a river," Lisbon muttered.
Sherman tried to get back to the matter at hand. He tapped at her file in his hands, to draw her attention.
"According to your medical history-"
"How'd you get my file," Lisbon interrupted, eyes wide, before turning to look at Jane with apprehension.
"Cho brought it over," Jane said helpfully, "and no I haven't read it. Really, it's insulting you think I'd do such a thing."
"Can you blame me? You're appallingly nosy," Lisbon defended.
"I have other patients, you know," Sherman didn't bother keeping the annoyance out of his voice.
"Sorry doc," Jane appeased, knowing he'd already pushed his luck with man. He didn't want to get thrown out.
"Perhaps this will go quicker if done privately?" Teresa asked.
Jane's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He didn't realize it was Lisbon he had to worry about. She continued, tone deceptively casual as she looked at her doctor, firmly avoiding Jane's gaze.
"I mean, is it usual for you to discuss a patient's condition in front of visitors?"
Jane kept his expression carefully neutral as he regarded her. He felt rather than saw the doctor glance at him before addressing Lisbon.
"I'm sorry, I assumed he was family."
"So did I," Jane, said, his tone just as misleadingly easy as hers had been. But his eyes bored meaningfully into her, knowing she could feel him staring even if she wouldn't look at him, and that she'd know what he was referring to.
A few months ago, she had chastised him for pulling away from her and the team. She'd told him that it was a betrayal because they were a family.
He was throwing her words back at her.
"Bite me," Lisbon murmured under her breath, still not looking at him.
"Maybe when you're feeling better," he shot back.
"Very funny," she said, desperately trying to quell the flush which was threatened to appear on her face.
But it spread to her ears and neck when, to her horror, Lisbon saw Dr. Sherman smile knowingly. She cursed Jane as she realized that doctor thought they were having a lover's quarrel.
Satisfied that Lisbon was too mortified to protest any further, Jane gave the doctor a disarming smile.
"Please continue," he said. Teresa consoled herself with the fact that Jane would have probably eavesdropped even if she had made him leave.
"Like I was saying, your file says that you have a running prescription for antihistamines but your previous doctor didn't bother writing down why," Sherman said, shaking his head at the negligence.
"I get allergies."
"What kind?
"Allergies," Lisbon said, widening her eyes at the doctor, as if it was obvious, "and it's not like I take the medication religiously, only when…"
Lisbon kicked herself inwardly.
That's what had felt wrong when she left her house. She'd forgotten to take her Zyrtec. And it was foggy that night, the weather had been stuffy and her running path didn't have the freshest air. Subconsciously, her body had known it was a bad idea to go out but she had been too stressed to bother figuring out why.
"When…," the doctor prompted.
"...just, when it looks like the weather won't agree with me, or when we go anyplace particularly dusty or smoggy."
"Or before you exercise outside..?"
"Yes…" Lisbon asked, looking at him suspiciously, watching him nod as he wrote something down. She was feeling very much like a suspect.
"Did you take it yesterday before your run?"
"No," Lisbon admitted.
"Why?"
"Well, like I said, it's not like allergies affect me daily I jus-"
"You'd forgotten to take it." Jane stated, tilting his head at her, looking as satisfied with his conclusion as the doctor was.
Lisbon was feeling oddly trapped.
"So I forgot to take my Zyrtec, it's not a big deal," Lisbon stated, as nonchalantly as she could, carefree to keep her eyes firmly on her doctor's. "It's just allergies," she repeated.
"I highly doubt that, Teresa. I suspect you've actually had asthma for years now, but it was misdiagnosed as allergies. Now, asthma is triggered by allergens such as dust, changes in weather etc. This is why you've been fine. Up till now, you've been taking the antihistamines which help prevent asthma attacks due to those factors. Realizing that you never experience discomfort on days when you took the medication, you foresaw the exacerbating symptoms and have been self-medicating yourself using your past experience. At least you're smarter than whoever your doctor was."
"How can you be so sure?"Lisbon demanded.
"You said your breathing got difficult while you were running. Exercise is another trigger for asthma. In fact, a lot of athletes have it. But the fact that you're okay now is all the proof I need. You got better on the medication we use that treats it. Make sense?"
Lisbon slowly nodded in grudging acquiescence.
"Good. Now, it's also possible for the attack to be triggered by emotional stress. So, any extra pressure recently? Maybe job related?
Lisbon didn't miss Jane's instant interest in this new line of questioning, even if she was only seeing him using her peripheral vision.
"I'm a cop. Stress come with the territory, that's not unusual," she said bluntly.
"What about personally?"
"Seriously doctor, this is just cause I forgot my Zyrtec. Now you can call it asthma or allergies or whatever you like, but I'm fine now so I'd like you to sign me out." Lisbon said in her strongest 'you'd better not cross me tone."
Jane found it amusing that Agent Lisbon only made her appearance when asked about her personal life.
"Sorry, Teresa. But you had a pretty bad attack. I can't let you leave before I make sure your oxygen levels are stable without help."
"He means, those tubes in your nostrils," Jane removed his hands from his pockets to point to her nose.
Lisbon promptly removed them.
"Hey," the nurse started.
"What? It's the only way to prove I'm okay, right. So how long before I can go?"
Sherman sighed. He hated cops. In reality, he could probably sign her out right now, but he wanted to observe her for a while, make sure she was okay. Plus she looked like she could use the rest. Looking at his watch, he saw, thankfully, that his shift would be over in a couple of hours.
"Keep measuring her oxygen levels. If it goes lower than normal let me know," he told the nurse, then turned to Lisbon, "If all goes well, you'll be out of here by noon at the latest."
Her frown told him she wasn't pleased, that she wanted out now.
I really hate cops, Sherman thought, before moving to his next patient.
The instant the doctor left, Jane grinned at Lisbon and sat in the chair facing her.
"And you accused me of being a bad patient," alluding to the time he was blinded and had to stay at the hospital.
"I'm not a bad patient, you're just a bad visitor," Lisbon retorted, disheartened that she still wasn't able to inject her usual bite into her replies. She suddenly felt really exhausted. Looking at her watch, she saw it was 4:30 a.m.
Jane saw her practically deflating before his very eyes. As he suspected, she had just kept up a strong front for the doctor, hoping to be released quickly.
"Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll be here when you wake up."
"Oh joy," Lisbon she said, her voice barely higher than a whisper now due to fatigue. She lay her head back down on her pillow and closed her eyes as she brought the blanket up closer to her.
A tiny smile played on Jane's lips as he thought of how young she looked. He was about to tease her about it, but realized that she was practically gone.
"Sleep well," he whispered, unaware of the soft look on his face.
Author's note:
We're getting closer to the end. Thanks to everyone who favorited, alerted, and reviewed. Those I have been unable to respond to, please do log in so I can thank you privately (MeltedChoccoButton: about your comment that Jane's dialogue with Angela belongs to a different genre. Did you mean it's too humorous for an angst fic?)
As to the medical "facts" in this chapter; I am not a doctor, and do not pretend to be an expert on this subject, but I based the information on my personal experience with the disease and bit of internet research. Now that that's out of the way; how awesome was the last episode? It doesn't seem fair that I can equally love and be frustrated with it (enough with the thrillers!) Good news is, we have till may 10th to recover. Bad news is, that's a long time to wait for a new episode. I'll try to wrap this up in the meantime. Looks like I'll be missing my February deadline, but at least I have a new one now Don't miss Donnamour1969's Red Queen episode tag. Also, I was really nervous over it this chapter so please let me know what you think. I know they haven't really talked, but it just didn't seem like the right time.