Mend This Tear- chapter eleven
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.
Jane returned to the hospital to find Lisbon sitting hunched over, her forehead resting on her knees, her fingers entwined in her hair.
"Was Hightower's visit that bad?" he joked.
Something wasn't right. Lisbon didn't stir from her position.
Patrick hurriedly set down the items he brought with him and walked up to her.
"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.
She flinched, and Jane realized it was because he'd put his hand on one of her shoulders. He removed it quickly, and she finally brought her head up from her knees. Her eyebrows were furrowed in obvious pain. A headache, Jane thought. He recognized the signs immediately; her eyes were narrower than usual, like she was trying to keep herself from wincing at the throbbing. Her face was also tight.
But Lisbon usually hid her pain better than this. At least, she tried to, Jane thought fondly, looking into her clear green eyes. It must be a really bad one.
A migraine, he concluded, wondering what Hightower said to her. He didn't bother asking though, knowing it would be useless. Instead, he pulled the chair close to her bed and, sat down.
"How bad is it?" he asked, voice throaty with care.
"I'm fine," she stated in a shaky voice, burying her head in her knees once more. It seemed to hurt less in that position, plus she could hide the tears of pain which kept trying to force their way out.
It hurt so much. Having him near only made it worse.
"I'll be fine," she said, almost to herself. The statement came out in a near whimper, but Lisbon stubbornly repeated the mantra in uneven whispers, as if saying it enough times will make it so.
If he wasn't so worried about her, Jane would have been amazed at her willpower. He wondered if Lisbon ever read up on the theory of self-fulfilling prophecy. It was almost like she was hypnotizing herself.
But Patrick feared she was experiencing an implosion of some sort.
Leaning in towards her, he brought his hands to cover hers where they rested on her knees.
"Yes you will," he said soothingly, stroking the back of her hand. Once more, she flinched at his touch, as if she hated it.
It was difficult but Patrick managed to swallow the rejection and took a deep breath. She's in pain, and she's always been wary of contact, he reasoned to himself. Besides, his feelings weren't important here, hers were.
"I could make it hurt less," he said tentatively. Lisbon shook her head, tendrils flowing with the movement even as her face remained hidden in her knees.
Jane was getting frustrated but made sure to keep it out of his tone.
Lisbon's also always been stubborn.
"Why don't you let me help you?" He said in his most enticing voice.
Lisbon raised watery eyes to look at Jane.
It would be so easy to give in; just like last time. His voice was just as tender; just as smooth.
Like she meant the world to him.
"Why are you here Jane?"
Patrick was a bit taken aback at the abruptness of the question. He decided, under the circumstances, that a straightforward answer was the best way to go.
"Because you're here," he said simply.
"Why?"
Jane studied her. She seemed to be looking for some sort assurance. It wasn't like her, just like it wasn't like him to give it. He liked to keep her on her toes; but that wouldn't do here. Not when she was sick and looking so vulnerable. Besides, he saw no reason to hide the truth. It wasn't anything that he hadn't told her before.
"I'll always be here for Lisbon," he told her easily.
It was the one truth he never had a problem revealing.
Instead of reassuring her, Jane's answer actually made the throbbing in Lisbon's head increase. She rubbed her temples anew in an effort to alleviate it.
Why does he have to be so nice? Especially now, she lamented.
"Now you tell me; why are you here?" Jane asked, unaware of her dilemma.
"You heard the doctor. Apparently, I had an asthma attack," Lisbon answered glibly.
The air had become far too heavy for her taste.
"Why?" Jane prodded.
She could barely breathe.
"Jane, I'm kind of too wiped out to remember medical jargon."
"Was it stress?" Jane specified.
Lisbon opened her eyes and tilted her chin up a bit to look at him. He was frowning, and his eyes were soft with concern. Was that actual guilt she saw there?
"Not everything is about you Jane," she said, answering his unspoken question, "but it's so typical of you to think so," she said with a scoff.
Jane's face relaxed visibly, then he gave her a small smile.
"I'm sorry you're not feeling well Lisbon. I wish you'd take me up on my offer. I really can help you."
"You want to hypnotize me," she said skeptically.
"It wasn't so bad last time was it? Beside's I wouldn't be hypnotizing you, just helping your mind overcome the pain. I can do that, it'll make it hurt less."
"For now, maybe, but what about next time?"
Jane's grin grew and his heart warmed at the prospect of Lisbon actually relenting enough to ask for his future assistance as well.
"I can't think of anything that would bring me as much pleasure as helping you Lisbon. As long as I'm around, all you have to do is ask," he told her with an encouraging smile.
Teresa regarded him for a beat before she spoke.
"I'm sorry Jane, that's just not good enough for me."
Patrick's grin froze on his face at her words. Then his mind ran a mile a second as he studied Lisbon, trying to understand what was happening, what she was saying.
She didn't look like she intended to hurt him, but she was far too astute to not know that her words would have. And she should be far too considerate to say them knowing that they would.
So why did she?
What had he said that earned him such a cruel reply? That he'd help her? It wasn't the first time he'd said it. True Lisbon always insisted that she didn't need him to protect her, just as he always insisted that he would. And he meant it. He'd save her as long as he lived-
Patrick's mind came to a staggering halt at that last thought.
Lisbon saw comprehension dawn on Jane's face and knew that the penny had dropped in his head.
He couldn't very well save her if he ended up dead.
Jane slowly moved away from her. First he sat back in the chair. Then he stood up, hands firmly in his pants pockets. Lisbon watched his every move, feeling profound sorrow at the darkness in his eyes. Their gazes met and held for what seemed like forever.
"Duly noted, Lisbon, duly noted," Patrick finally said huskily.
He picked up the bag he'd dropped from the floor and put it on her bed. Then, removing his jacket from where he'd draped it on the chair, he left.
Lisbon opened the bag he'd brought to find a wrapped bear claw and some apples. Her stomach rumbled as she realized that she hadn't eaten anything in almost 24 hours.
She was also astonished to see that there was a coffee cup on the bedside table on her right.
She'd never noticed Jane placing it there, and her eyes widened at the impossibility that she hadn't even smelled the delicious aroma until now.
How messed up am I?
Teresa closed her eyes quickly against new tears but they would not be contained. Giving up, she pressed the call button. She'd ask a nurse for an aspirin she knew would not work, then she'd start filling out the paperwork to check herself out. It was almost 8, maybe she could convince a doctor to let her leave before 12. There was no need for her to stay any longer. She'd call a cab; she wasn't some invalid who needed an escort home. Meanwhile, she had Jane's dejected image to keep her company, along with her guilty conscience and empty heart.
Author's note: I apologize for the shorter chapter. It seems I'm unable to sift through everything I have written as adequately as I'd like and posting helps sort out the plot in my mind. I'd like to thank everyone who's reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting. Having your support really helps the creative process, as do your precious reviews.