A/N: So Jane's back... sorta. :P Hope you enjoy. :)

Chapter 14. Can Tea Fix Everything?

I shut my eyes with a heavy sigh as Jane fell to the side, his wrists in cuffs. Rubbing my hand over my face and running it through my hair, I let my breathing, my whole self, calm before I made another move. I heard the jingle of metal chain as Jane struggled against the cuffs. Slowly, I pulled myself up, lowering my shirt again, still reeling after the feel of his hands on my skin. I was still tingling, my body still aching with desire. But I couldn't have let it continue. I wouldn't let it continue. Jane wasn't able to make a conscious decision. I couldn't let him do something that he would regret later on.

I let myself look across at him. He was sat up next to me on the bed, wriggling his wrists inside the metal embrace of the cuffs. Eventually, he seemed to realise that they wouldn't come off, and he let his hands drop to his lap. He switched his gaze to me. His soft green eyes were the same, the curl of his blonde hairs the same, his cheeks, where I longed to rest my fingers and never let my gaze wander from his again...the same. Yet his thoughts...his sped up, tangled, knotted thoughts...they created the soul of who I was looking at right now; a strange, confused soul within Jane's body. He looked hurt, confused, and my heart ached for him.

I wished I could tell him everything right now, to explain everything, and let it all out, because after all, I had him back. But he wouldn't understand. He wasn't the Jane I was so dying to talk to. He wasn't the Jane that I so wanted to hold and promise that I wouldn't let anything like this happen again. I hated the thought of what would happen when he found out what he'd done while he'd been under hypnosis. I rested my elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands. I could now feel a mist of tears begin to veil my eyes as my mind flashed back over what had just happened.

'I'm sorry, Jane...' I murmured, feeling water droplets gather on my lashes. This was my fault. I should have stayed away that night. I should have let him drive home without me following. Then maybe all of this wouldn't have been as tough as it had been, on me now, and Jane later. And then I'd gone and made it worse. I'd taken his book, and left it here at the apartment with him. I'd made his emotions turn in a backbreaking twist.

I knew he would remember all this. And if he didn't, he would press me until I told him. How was I to explain to him why I took his book? Why I invaded his privacy and took it from its place? The reasons he'd been able to find it at my apartment? I wouldn't be able to. He would hate me. He wouldn't be able to trust me again. I swore under my breath, lifting myself back up again, blinking the haze of tears back. I stood in front of him, our toes almost touching. He looked up at me, his eyes wide; windows to his lost soul.

'What...why have you handcuffed me?' he asked me quietly, 'What have I done?'

It was like he had forgotten what had just happened in the space of the thirty seconds or so between there and now. His expression was genuine confusion, a sort of vulnerability, now that the moment had passed. I studied his face, seeing a completely different look behind those pale green eyes than that of only moments ago. I bit down the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. It wasn't time for the reunited hug which I knew I would give him, whether I felt I wanted to or not. We weren't out of the storm yet. But at least I'd got him back. I didn't need to worry about where he was. I just needed to make sure that we could get him back to normal. I would never be so thankful to be subject to his ridiculous, paper-work inducing plans.

I looked deep into his unfaltering gaze, 'It's for your protection,' I replied softly, holding out my hand, 'Come on. We need to go.'

He stared at my hand, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. Just once, I wish I could tell what was inside his head. For a moment, I thought he was going to question me, ask where we were going, ask again why I'd felt the need to handcuff him, but he didn't. It took a while, but he took my hand between his own and pulled himself up. That touch, that feel of his hands on my skin again made warm ripples reverberate up my arm, but I ignored it, now just feeling the undying need to get Jane to safety; get him to the CBI. I wasn't about to run, and I wasn't about to let him run either. It was time to get him home.

I had been sat at my desk now for half an hour, simply watching Eleanor. Since she'd first sat there, she'd temporarily explored, leaving her emptied glass on Jane's desk and looking around in the consultant's corner. She seemed drawn to the space. She hadn't ventured anywhere else. It was like she had a connection with him, and I didn't know why. She had no reason to, she had never met him, never even heard of him, and yet she took to his 'company' like they had been old friends. She had continued to talk to herself, to him, since she'd first said sorry. As far as I could tell, she had been having a full conversation with him. Talking about Jacob, talking about what she remembered, asking him what certain things were that she might have seen on the way in... She never received an answer, but she appeared happy enough with it.

Despite the attachment that she'd clearly felt to me, it seemed that she was much happier in the company of someone who wasn't really there. But I wasn't too surprised after she had spent so many years in unbroken silence, with no company but a few doctors who watched her and examined her, poking at her like a specimen in a jar.

After a while, she had discovered a pack of cards that had been amongst the variety of objects on top of Jane's desk, and had seemed truly fascinated by them, taking them back to her seat on the couch. She opened them, picking them out carefully and flicking through them, examining the pictures of the Kings, Queens, Jacks and Aces. It was the same pack of cards that Jane loved to perform tricks with; make us all stare with awe, before we got called out on a case. I had felt a little twinge as she'd picked them up, almost feeling that I wanted everything to be in its right place when Jane returned.

Despite that feeling though, I had let her continue, curious to see what she would do. I watched as she began to move them around in the deck, slowly shuffling them up, every now and then dropping a card, which she would apologise for quietly and pick back up. Every time this happened, a flicker of an apologetic smile would appear on her face, her eyes twinkling. She'd been shuffling for a few minutes, perfecting the motion and the technique, before she suddenly stopped, looking up in front of her, as if Jane was sat in front of her.

'Uh...know any card games?' she whispered, a smile spreading across her face, and her cheeks lighting up with a soft pink, 'I don't know any...'

I couldn't help her smile spreading to me, making the corners of my lips lift.

But I tore my eyes away from her at the sound of Cho's voice behind me, just outside the bullpen, 'Jane!'

I turned at breakneck speed, my eyes rapidly scanning the area and soon finding Lisbon walking round the corner, Jane beside her. Her arm was behind him, positioned on the small of his back like she was encouraging him forward.

'Oh my god...' I murmured, jumping out of my seat and rushing forward. 'Jane!' I called, running up to meet him. 'Are you ok?' His hair was messy, ruffled, and he wasn't wearing a jacket, just his shirt with rolled up sleeves and his waistcoat undone. His whole outfit looked like it had been slept in; crumpled and creased.

He didn't give me a reply as such. More just a stare, like he was mentally absent, or like he didn't know who I was. It was then that I saw the handcuffs securing his wrists at the front, and I switched my gaze to Lisbon.

'What happened?'

'Found him in my apartment.'

'He didn't attack you again did he?' I asked, slightly quieter, maybe in the hope that Jane wouldn't hear. However, he seemed distracted by the young red haired girl watching him from his couch. He was staring at her, and I could imagine him questioning who she was, and why she was sat there. But his lips seemed sealed, unwilling to move to enable sound. Eleanor was staring back, but there was curiosity in her eyes, rather than accusation. She seemed to be taking in the man's dishevelled appearance, so many questions visible in her expression.

'Uh...no. No.'

'Are you ok?'

Lisbon appeared a little absent when she had given her slightly hesitated answer, like her mind had travelled elsewhere when she provided her reply.

'Yeah, I'm ok. I gonna take him to a free interrogation room ok?' she replied, coming back to the present time and giving me a brief, forced smile before guiding Jane away.

'Ok...' I nodded, watching them leave, Lisbon's hand rubbing up and down Jane's back as if she was trying to comfort him. It was a far cry from Lisbon's account of the Jane that tried to shoot her a day or so ago. I wondered what had changed. What had made Jane become such a different person since trying to bring Lisbon's life to an end?

I shared a look with Cho. A look that questioned what exactly was going on, but we both silently agreed to leave Jane and Lisbon to it for a moment before we went to investigate. We had both seen it in Lisbon. Something personal had happened. It had been obvious.

It was then that Rigsby rounded the corner from the direction of Lisbon's office and beyond, looking at me and Cho questioningly.

'What's going on?' he asked, stopping just beside us.

'Jane's back...' I answered, seeing an interrogation room door close behind the two just down the corridor.

'Huh? Since when?'

'Lisbon just brought him in. He was at her apartment...'

Rigsby followed my gaze down the corridor, 'Can we see him?'

'Uh...we're letting Lisbon talk to him for a bit.'

'Is he ok?'

'I don't know. He seemed a bit quiet considering what happened the other day...I hope he'll be ok...'

I felt Rigsby's hand on my back, trying to offer some support. I smiled sadly, looking down at the floor, scuffing the floorboards with my shoe before turning to return to the bull pen. I landed heavily in my chair, swivelling round to face my desk and staring at my computer screen for no real reason.

I heard a quiet voice behind me, 'Is that your friend...Jane?'

I smiled softly, letting out a short breath. I looked round at Eleanor's inquisitive face as she sat on the edge of the couch.

'Yeah. That was him.'

'Is he ok?' she asked, like an echo of Rigsby's question.

'Honestly? I don't know.'

'Can I meet him?' She smiled, perking up slightly as she leant slightly to see beyond the bullpen and down the corridor.

'Uh...not yet. He's...not feeling well right now,' I told her awkwardly. I wished I didn't have to think up the words to explain to a twenty seven year old with the mind of a five year old why she couldn't talk to Jane. I was too busy trying to think about him myself.

Eleanor cocked her head to the side, her smiling falling away, 'What's wrong?'

'I...don't really know, Eleanor.'

'Oh... he'll get better right?'

'Yeah...' I couldn't tell whether I was telling her, or myself, 'I'm sure he will.'

Eleanor smiled softly, shuffling back into the couch again, and pulling her knees up to her chin. She let her left hand sit just over the gap between the cushions, as she rested her cheek on her knee.

'Jane...'

'Lisbon?'

I took a deep breath, my hand subconsciously drifting over the smooth surface of the table towards him. 'Do you...do you know what happened to you?'

His head cocked slightly, looking at me strangely.

'What made you try to kill me? What made you kiss me?' I was surprised at how easy those two questions had been to say.

He seemed to think about it, his face contorting with confusion. He didn't reply. I could almost hear the cogs whirring inside his head, but I didn't know what those cogs were spinning for.

'W...what are you thinking?' I murmured, my head tilting to mimic his.

From where his eyes had been staring just past my head, they came back to rest on mine silently. I wished that this barrier between us was gone, so I could just talk to him; see what his mind was trying to say. I shifted in my chair, beginning to feel uneasy in his sudden silence...under his penetrating gaze.

'Do you remember anything?'

'My head...it hurts,' he replied, slowly closing his eyes and bringing his elbows up onto the table, his head falling into his hands. His fingers tangled in his hair, rubbing at his head.

'What happened?'

'I...don't...I don't know.'

'How about I get you a cup of tea?' I suggested softly. It was something which I thought might help him relax, cheer him up... whatever he needed right now. Tea was bound to help to some extent. Jane without tea was like... Van Pelt without Rigsby, it was just never going to work.

Despite his silence, I stood from my chair and stuck my head out the door to call for someone to make Jane a cup.

'Van Pelt?' I called down the corridor to the first person I had seen.

'Yeah, boss?' she replied, seeming to have jumped when she heard my voice.

'Can you make a cup of tea please? You know...in that greeny blue one Jane likes?'

'Uh...sure...' she replied, creasing her eyebrows a little in confusion, '...How is he?'

'I don't know...confused,' I told her, 'Bring that cup of tea down here when you've made it.'

'...Ok.'

I retreated back into the room, softly shutting the door behind me as I returned to my seat. Jane hadn't appeared to have moved, his face still buried in his hands. I sat quietly, not wanting to cause further disturbance to his obviously fragile state. We sat in silence for a while, and I could find nothing to do with myself except watch Jane's slouched figure. I was trying to understand why his head hurt, but I was no expert on hypnosis, and I was certainly no expert on him.

I imagined ideas in my head. I imagined his suppressed conscious, the real, normal Jane, trying to claw through the layers of damage that Red John had forced on him, trying to resurface. The image in my head was making my throat feel dry and tight, choking on the feelings that I was imagining I had, from Jane's perspective. It felt like I was having a dizzying, sickening head rush, continuously losing my balance and falling to the ground. Before I could bring myself back to my own feelings, my hand was reaching out, fingers brushing over Jane's bare forearm. His skin was hot to my touch, like he was battling a fever. He didn't respond to my touch though...

When I heard the knock on the door, I jumped slightly, my hand recoiling quickly as I composed myself again.

'Come in,' I said. When nothing happened, I realised my voice had been far too quiet for anyone to be able to hear. I pulled myself up and reached for the door myself. Van Pelt stood outside, a steaming cup of tea in her hand, in the cup that I had asked for.

'Thanks,' I smiled weakly.

'What's going to happen now?' Van Pelt had almost turned to leave, before the obviously pressing question had turned her back round again, 'What are we going to do?'

There was worry deep in her eyes, and I could suddenly see how much she had been holding it together when she was around me. I had been a wreck, leaving no real room for anyone else to be able to worry. I felt guilty.

'Uh...' I collected my thoughts a moment to try to answer her question, 'Could you call Dr Daniel for me?'

She seemed to take a moment to realise who I was talking about, but eventually nodded. 'Sure.'

I knew that Dr Royston Daniel was an experienced hypnotherapist, and if that's what Jane was; hypnotised, than he would surely be the most likely person to be able to get him out of it. Besides, he could return the favour that we had given him; saving his life. Now he could save Jane's for us.

I took the cup of tea to the table, placing the cup lightly on the table top and pushing it toward Jane. I saw his arm twitch slightly, whether in the recognition of one of his favourite smells, or something else, I couldn't tell, but he lifted his head all the same.

'Got some tea for you... maybe it'll help with the headache.'

He stared at the warm brown liquid filling his favourite cup. I didn't know if he recognised that it was his favourite...but anything could help, and I would try what I could without being a qualified hypnotherapist.

I reached for the keys clipped to my waistband to un-cuff him. I figured that Jane was too weak to try anything right now, and I wanted him to be able to drink his tea, even if it wouldn't help all that much. Pulling the metal away from his slightly reddened wrists, I stowed them back on my belt along with the keys. He rubbed at the red circles on his flesh, flexing his wrists before he gingerly took up the cup in his hand, delivering a sip of tea to his lips.

'It's gonna be ok,' I murmured, gently resting my hand over his tea-free hand as it lay on the table, 'We're going to get someone in to help you.'

Jane looked up from his cup of tea, studying me as I made my promises to him. His eyes seemed a little brighter now.

'We've got so much to talk about once this is over...' I told him with a sad flicker of a smile, 'So much.'

I ran my thumb over knuckle to thumb joint, feeling the subtle roughness of his skin underneath my own flesh, 'I love you.'

I didn't care if he remembered those words once he was ok again. They were true, and I was sick of trying to hide them behind a mask that I was forced to wear. I loved him. And there was no running from it. Not anymore.