Mend This Tear- chapter fifteen
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.
Patrick arrived at the hospital just in time to see Kimball walking out of it.
Alone.
"Where's Lisbon?"
If the Senior Agent was surprised to see him he didn't let on.
"Nurse said she left about an hour ago."
"And her doctor just let her?" Jane asked in surprise. He'd pegged Dr. Sherman to care more about his patients than to just let them check out alone.
"Nurse said they couldn't stop her since technically she's fine. Doctor was working a double shift and didn't have the energy to argue with her. Lisbon threatened to arrest him if he didn't let her go," Cho said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Jane returned the grin as he imagined poor Sherman's reaction. But the consultant's mirth didn't last. He had something important to do. With a quick nod goodbye to his colleague Jane turned to go back to his car when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked backwards to see the senior agent looking at him intently.
"What can I do for you, Cho?" Jane asked lightly, covering how anxious he was to leave. He remembered how un-obliging Cho had been recently and hoped whatever it was he had to say, he'd say it quickly.
Kimball wanted to ask Jane about Kristina Frye. About why he seemed to think what happened to her was his fault despite the woman obviously being done in by her own ambition. He wanted to know if his suspicions that Jane was holding out on the team were legitimate. He also wanted to ask why Jane and the boss seemed so strange together ever since Todd Johnson was killed.
He couldn't. Not after he'd seen Jane barely holding it together watching Lisbon unconscious on the hospital bed. Not when the man looked like he'd aged ten years in the last two days. Not when he knew where Jane would go now. Kimball didn't think it was a good idea.
But he couldn't say any of that. So he had to settle.
"You two okay?"
Looking at the stoic agent looking uncharacteristically worried, Jane knew feigning ignorance wasn't an option. If it didn't work on Rigsby then there was no chance it would work on Cho.
"We will be. Don't worry about it," he said, trying to sound surer than he felt.
Cho's face indicated that the attempt had failed. But he removed his hand from Jane's shoulder. Patrick still felt its weight even after he got into his car; part threat, part plea.
Watching Jane drive away, Kimball picked up his phone and dialed his boss's number.
Teresa was in a bad mood. She had taken a shower as soon as she'd gotten home, to wash away the dirt and exhaustion of her short hospital stay after her ill fated run.
But the cleansing ritual had done nothing to ease her migraine, nor did it help settle her stomach, where the apples and donuts which Jane had brought her remained stubbornly refusing to be digested.
She'd changed into her favorite jersey, brushed her hair and tried to settle down for a lazy day at home. She turned on the TV but realized she hadn't recorded anything on her TiVo in ages and couldn't find anything on to interest her. She kept picturing Jane; the lines in his face deepening as he understood that she wanted him to leave her alone, his desolated figure as he walked out of her sight in the hospital, the weary shoulders…
The images just made the pounding in her head louder. Teresa had taken aspirin at the hospital after Jane had left but it hadn't helped. She was trying to remember if it was safe to take something stronger so soon when her phone rang. It was Cho.
"Hello."
"Hey boss, how're you doing?"
"Fine, thanks."
"You don't sound good," her second in command said, blunt as ever.
"I just have a splitting headache, don't worry about it."
"You home?"
"Yes," she affirmed in a tone that wondered where else he thought she'd be.
"I figured as much. I'd gone to pick you up from the hospital but you'd already gone."
"Thanks Cho, but you really shouldn't have."
"Jane said you needed a ride. Guess he was wrong."
Teresa stomach burned painfully at the warmth she felt knowing that her consultant asked Cho to pick her up. She wondered fleetingly how was it that a nice gesture could hurt so badly before shoving the thought away.
"I'm perfectly capable of flagging a taxi, Cho. Besides, you've already done more than enough. Thank you for bringing over my file."
"Forget it, what are friends for," he said rhetorically. Again, the friendliness of the words actually caused her pain, a mixture of warmth and uneasiness. Teresa vowed to never need anyone's help again. It wouldn't do appear weak in front of her subordinate, Teresa thought, before tuning into what Cho was saying. "Listen at the risk of worsening your headache, you should know that Jane's probably on his way to your place."
"What? Why?" Lisbon asked stunned.
"Well, he came to the hospital to pick you up, even though we'd agreed that I would. He looked like he needed to talk to you about something."
Crap.
"What did he do anyway?" Kimball asked.
"What makes you think he did anything?"
"He looked guilty as hell."
"Maybe I should get sick more often," Lisbon joked to cover up her dread.
"Yeah. Anyway, doesn't take a detective to figure out where he'll go next."
Under different circumstances, Lisbon might have called out Cho on his assumption. Not this day. She was still (fruitlessly) trying to kick Hightower's speech out of her mind; set it free as Jane would say. And while Cho wasn't much of a talker, his words could be as sharp as his wit. She'd rather not deal with whatever his opinion was on Jane's demeanor towards her.
"I don't think he will, Cho, but thanks for the warning anyway. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You're coming in?"
"Yes. I'm fine now, just have to start being more careful to not skip on my antihistamines."
"Guess you will," Cho said, letting Lisbon know he thought there was more to it than that. She ignored his skepticism. "Have a nice day boss."
"You too Cho, thanks again."
]'Hanging up, Teresa told herself not to panic. Whatever it was Jane wanted would wait until tomorrow. Looking at her watch, Lisbon saw that it was only noon. Probably, since he didn't find her in the hospital, Jane would go back to work, or wherever else he's been disappearing off to.
I do not need this, I do not need this, Lisbon said inwardly over and over, in time to the drumming in her head.
Jane sat in his car parked in front of Lisbon's house. He'd been sitting there for 20 minutes fighting himself. The time it had taken him to arrive to her home from the hospital had served to calm him down somewhat, and make him rethink what he had come to do.
He'd go to Lisbon, then what? Tell her that he thought she might be targeted by Red John? She'd want to know how he came to that conclusion. He couldn't tell her about Todd Johnson's message, because then she'd ask how he knew that it referred to Red John, then he'd have to tell her that he'd lied about Red John not saying anything to him after he saved his life…
He could already see the disappointment on her face. It wasn't a look he ever wanted to see on her. Sure he'd kept things from Lisbon before, all in the spirit of surprising her, of showing her that he was good for something, of impressing her with his cunning.
But this, she would take this secret personally. Because this is the one case he would not solve for the bureau. This would be for him. And that would hurt her because she still held out hope that he'd see that "violence wasn't the answer". The naïve fool, Patrick thought. She refuses to see me for what I am.
He tried to tell her. He told her that he'd kill Red John, that the reality of the situation will be different than what she had in mind. And yet, for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to give her the ultimate proof that there was no hope for him: tell her the secrets he'd been hiding from her. If she knew...then maybe she'll really start to believe that he was a lost cause.
And as much as Jane loathed her hope, he wouldn't deprive her of it either. If she of all people stopped believing in him…then he really was done for.
Despite what Teresa may think, Patrick didn't want to die after killing Red John. She made that happen.
Jane hit his head firmly on his Citroen's steering wheel. What was he thinking? What did hope matter? He needed to kill Red John. End of Story. Lisbon wouldn't let him do hence can't tell her anything.
But maybe he could get her to see reason. After all, this wasn't just about his revenge anymore.
Fully charged once more with adrenaline, Jane got out of his car.
Author's note: Hello everyone. Yes I'm alive. Sorry for the disappearing act. The last episode's review really did a number on me. I couldn't even look at a computer screen for days afterwards. Then I got sick, then my baby girl broke her arm, and Prof's keep hassling me to submit my work in early…ugh. Anyway, I'm back now 'and hope to have the next chapter out before the next episode airs. It's the last chapter and has been done for a while now but I'm working really hard on making it perfect so that it'll (hopefully) live up to expectations :)