A/N: Right, here it is! The next chapter of this bad awful story :D.
Like I said, Lisbon will be in this chapter, but I'm sure I'm gonna disappoint most of you with how I put her in this chapter. Oh well :D.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Van Pelt gently squeezed Jane's hand as they arrived at the little group formed around the fresh grave. She had felt the way Jane shuddered as soon as they'd seen the tombstone, and instantly knew he was feeling just a bit guilty about this all.
Jane looked at her quickly, and she flashed him a small smile, squeezing his hand once again.
Agent Darcy waved at the team, and they all came to stand next to her. She eyed Jane, who was only just allowed to get out of the hospital for short periods of time – which was not longer than a day, but he could go outside and that was what mattered.
Jane looked like crap; he hadn't exactly done his hair really great, there were major bags under his eyes, and his once so shining eyes were cold. Van Pelt could see the shudders running over Darcy's back.
"It's not your fault, you know that, don't you? Red John gets everyone he wants, so even Wainwright."
She looked at the tombstone again. Luther Wainwright, forever in our hearts.
"I called him a child. A pathetic little boy. I insulted him and the last thing he remembered of me was me being mean and coldhearted. I've never been fair, to nobody, but especially not to him. He didn't deserve what I did to him," Jane said, surprisingly saying more about the deceased Supervising Agent than everybody would have thought. Though it was more than nine months ago, it still bothered him. Even the almighty Patrick Jane would feel guilty about it. He was not a monster. Not anymore.
The team looked at the tombstone. They knew how Jane felt now about basically everything. About Lisbon, Angela, Charlotte, about being in the hospital, and about Wainwright, obviously. It bothered him so much, not more than Lisbon but enough for the team to be utterly annoyed by it.
"That's really nice, Patrick, but Wainwright won't hear it now. You should have thought about it before you insulted him."
"It was part of my plan. If I didn't insult him, I would've spent these six months alongside Lisbon, and I wouldn't have hurt her too."
Darcy slightly rolled her eyes, and then looked at the team who kept wisely out of the conversation. "Does that happen a lot? That you start about something or someone and that he turns it into something about agent Lisbon?"
The three nodded, and Darcy sighed.
"You know what your problem is, Patrick? You dwell in the past. You don't think about the future, that's off-limits for you. You just don't want to be happy," Darcy said, and focused back on the tombstone. Jane stared at her.
"Excuse me?"
"Am I wrong? Patrick, the love of your life died. While it's okay to cry, you have to move on. Stop living in the past, just because Angela, Charlotte and Lisbon are still there. Stop it, Patrick-"
"I-"
"No," Darcy said simply, turned around and left the grave, leaving the team in a slight confusion.
"What got into her?" Van Pelt asked. The team just shrugged.
-YulianaHenderson-
"Calm down, Grace," Rigsby said at the other end of the phone.
Van Pelt was sitting in her apartment, hyperventilating and not at all sure what she was supposed to do.
One moment, she was peacefully sleeping, dreaming about Lisbon. She did that a lot, subconsciously. It made her feel relaxed, apparently, it made her somewhat happier than she could be when she ignored the pain of her death.
The other, she was sitting in a plane, Lisbon smiling next to her. They were happily talking about the men in their lives, about Matt from the mailroom, about Jane, about all the men that Van Pelt wanted but never could get. Then, a loud crack came, and the plane dissolved into a fireball and she woke up, sitting up straight in her bed, sweating everywhere and her breath accelerated. She didn't have control over her breath anymore.
She knew so bad that she couldn't be alone right now, but she was stubborn. Lisbon's death was a week ago now, sure she would be over it. Not, apparently.
The first one she could think of to call was Rigsby, though she knew it was mean of her to put this on him. But she couldn't call Jane if she wanted him to live, Cho wouldn't understand, so Rigsby was the only one she could call.
She hadn't said anything though, only panted, and that made Rigsby freak out too.
"Grace, listen to me. Take in a deep breath, okay?"
Van Pelt did as Rigsby told her.
"Lay down and think about something happy. Think about Benjamin, I don't care. Something not Lisbon related. Do you have something?"
Van Pelt swallowed.
"Yes," she breathed, picturing her father, teaching her how to throw a ball in the right direction.
"Okay. Bend your knees, and place one of your hands on your belly. Yes?"
"Yes," Van Pelt managed to blur out, her voice high-pitched.
"Take a deep breath and let your belly push your hand out."
Van Pelt did, and she instantly felt relaxed. She had to give Rigsby a gift to thank him.
After a few minutes, her breathing had calmed down and she was shaking softly by the force of what had just happened.
She heard a breath of relief coming out Rigsby when he heard too that her breathing had become somewhat normal.
"You're gonna kill me one day, Grace," Rigsby said, his voice shaken a bit. Van Pelt let out a shaky laugh.
"I will come and get you," Rigsby said. Van Pelt shook her head.
"That's not-"
"You didn't really think I was gonna let you stay alone right now, did you? There will be no discussion. Sarah will stay with Benjamin, I'm coming for you right now," Rigsby said, and hung up.
Van Pelt sighed. She hated to be found the patient. It made her feel weak and she didn't want to be weak – even though she showed weakness more than she intended. In a team with Cho, Rigsby and Lisbon, it was hard to be yourself. Really, they were strong, and they were all masculine, even Lisbon. Van Pelt had always been a girly-girl, and cops weren't that at all. She wanted nothing else than run around in skirts all day, but that just wasn't practical when catching bad guys. And she always envied the guys; they weren't pulled back by their pony tails.
Rigsby arrived sooner than she had thought, and she was still on the floor, not being able to find the strength to get up.
Rigsby came to stand beside her, looking down at her.
"Now, what do I do with you?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.
"Thanks for your understanding."
Rigsby shook his head.
"No, really, I understand. Of all people, I wouldn't have imagined you to be laying on the floor. More Jane, or me. You were so understanding with Jane, I thought you had found peace with everything already. Apparently, not so much," he said, offering her his hand, which she gladly took.
She again let out a shaky breath when she tried to stand on her legs, which had apparently lost all use. Rigsby swung his arm around her, keeping her upright.
"Yeah, you're staying at my place," Rigsby concluded, leading her to his car outside. He grabbed the suitcase she had always present – which was honestly a necessity when you were law enforcement and were away from home quite a lot – and put it in the trunk of his car.
When Rigsby drove away, he noticed Van Pelt's slight blush at the fact that Rigsby took her with him now, and offered her to stay at his place. He shook his head.
"I held Jane's hand. Nothing shames me anymore."
-YulianaHenderson-
Silence.
That was pretty much all Jane heard. And where he always wanted silence in his life, not right now.
He clutched his chest, as if the pain in his chest got less by doing that. He let out a somewhat shaky sigh.
"Hey," a familiar voice said, and Jane's head shot up. In the corner of the dimly lit hospital room was none other than Teresa Lisbon standing.
Jane, for a second, doubted his sanity, was on the edge of screaming for the nurses, when he realized that this must be something he himself created to cope with everything.
"Hey yourself," Jane replied. Lisbon rolled her eyes.
"Why are you in the hospital?" Lisbon asked. Jane paused for a bit, and looked at her. She looked even more beautiful than she always did.
"You're not real."
"Of course not. I'm a phantom. An illusion. A phantasm."
Jane frowned. "Phantasm?"
Lisbon shrugged. "Don't ask me, you made it up."
Jane sighed, looked outside through the average hospital windows, to the scenery there. Nobody seemed to stop doing their things after Lisbon died, while they should all be grieving.
"That's nonsense, Jane. You're the only drama queen here," Lisbon said, addressing what he said about the rest of the world. Jane smiled faintly.
"Why are you here?"
"And I ask you again: Why are you in the hospital?"
"Because you are dead. You thought I could just continue my life like nothing happened, Lisbon?"
Lisbon shrugged. "I hoped so."
"Well, you hoped incorrectly. I can't live without you, Lisbon. You're everything to me-"
"You know too that that's just stupid, right?" Lisbon interrupted. Jane crooked an eye at her.
"What?"
"This complete play that you seem to perform. Do you really think I'll come back when you act like this? You're freaking hallucinating, Jane. Why would you hallucinate over me?"
"Because I love you."
"Stop it Jane-"
"And I'm in love with you."
Lisbon stared at him. "You do realize that you just told a ghost that you're in love with her?"
Jane shrugged. "I've told stupider people. I told Lorelei."
Lisbon again stared at him, but now one eyebrow raised. Did he see hurt in her eyes?
"You told Lorelei?"
Jane smiled an innocent smile. "Why, you a little jealous, Lisbon?"
"I'm not jealous. You wish."
"Really? Not even a bit-"
"Mr. Jane?"
Jane took his eyes off Lisbon – though reluctantly – and saw a nurse standing in the doorway. He sighed.
"Whom were you talking to?" she asked.
"Lisbon," Jane answered simply, and the nurse frowned a bit, before she got her phone and began calling people while leaving the room.
"They think you're crazy," Lisbon said, and Jane looked at her.
"Says you."
"Hey, I'm a part of your mind. I can't be crazy," she said, raising her hands. Jane smiled.
"Why are you here, Lisbon?"
Lisbon sighed, and walked over to him. She sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Because your mind is trying to find a way to cope with my death. Trust me, if I was really here, I would've kicked your ass because it's stupid. But..."
She paused, and looked him into his eyes, "but since I'm not really here, I think I'm free to say that... that despite finding it entirely stupid that you act like this, I..."
She looked down at her lap, and Jane swallowed.
"I love you, Patrick," Lisbon whispered, and Jane closed his eyes. What was wrong with him?
The next day
"Grace, could you hold Ben for a moment?" Sarah asked as she barged into the living room. Van Pelt felt awkward at first, since she still had some feelings for Rigsby, but Rigsby had feelings for Sarah and they even had a child together, but it left her mind rather quickly. It felt great to be surrounded by people, and not to be alone when she was having a tough time. And though Rigsby wouldn't admit it, he was happy she was here too.
They were in such a difficult love triangle.
Van Pelt nodded, and took the little boy from Sarah. Her heart clenched.
She wanted a family of her own so badly.
This was what she and Lisbon talked about. They had the same problem: a child wish, but no man. They could always start a family together... no, that was so not an option.
Where Van Pelt's wish to start a family was more obvious – she almost melted with every young couple that passed them – Lisbon's need was less obvious, and therefore, no one knew of it. She should have told Jane, though. He was the only one Lisbon wanted to do that with. Van Pelt didn't get what Lisbon saw exactly in Jane, but Van Pelt also knew that Lisbon never went for 'easy and uncomplicated'. That made a relationship much better, Lisbon had always told Van Pelt. What relationship? She hadn't had a proper one since... Greg. And that had ended when she was eighteen.
Van Pelt brushed the boy's cheeks gently. He was fast asleep, oblivious to all the problems his father and the people around his father were coping with. Van Pelt was glad. Sarah cared, though, but not enough to actually be of use for the grieving process.
Sarah and Rigsby barged into the living room at the same time then, almost crushing each other as they did. Sarah was holding Benjamin's pacifier and a bottle, Rigsby the phone.
Sarah hurried – she was way too stressed – to Van Pelt and Benjamin, while Rigsby ran a hand through his hair.
"Grace, do you see any way in coming with me to the hospital? Jane, he..."
Van Pelt sighed. Couldn't that man just accept the fact that Lisbon was dead? He was genuinely ripping the team of their right grieving process.
"What now?"
"Don't be so mean. He started hallucinating."
-YulianaHenderson-
Jane's doctor was already awaiting Rigsby and Van Pelt, behind him Cho, his arms crossed.
"Great, you're all here. It turns out we did well with keeping Mr. Jane-"
"What is wrong with him?" Van Pelt cut in, and the doctor raised his hand.
"Let me finish, Miss van Pelt. Now, I consulted one of our therapists for Mr. Jane. I'm just a doctor, not a psychologist. But this is what he told me. Every person grieves in his own way. For Mr. Cho here, you can't see on the outside that he's grieving. You all cope quite well with the loss of Miss Lisbon, but Mr. Jane doesn't. There is a thin line between grief and a depression. Grieving can consist of different feelings, such as shock, disbelief, sadness, guilt, anger and fear. If I'm right, Mr. Jane went through all these feelings. Grief goes away after time. If it doesn't, though, it may signal that the grief has developed into a more serious problem, such as complicated grief or major depression," the doctor explained. The three looked at him, not knowing exactly where he was going to - or they knew, but didn't want it to be real.
"So?"
"Complicated grief has symptoms as extreme anger or bitterness over the loss and intrusive thoughts or images of the loved one. I checked Mr. Jane's record: after his family died, he was suffering from complicated grief. Not many people were there to help him over it, so he kept in that tunnel. Now that he was already in that state, the death of Miss Lisbon was the final straw for him. We've been checking Mr. Jane's reactive power lately. One prominent symptom of depression is slow speech and body movements. Though there's nothing wrong his ability to talk, as everybody might know, he is slower than he was before which made us a bit worried. Now that he began seeing Miss Lisbon at the other end of his room, we knew for sure that Mr. Jane is in a depression."
The three stared at the doctor, taking in so many information. They were flabbergasted. Jane was not good in showing his real emotions, but he didn't seem depressed to them.
"But he keeps making jokes-"
"Which are not from him. He only repeats what the people around him say. Did you have a pleasurable or happy moment after Miss Lisbon's death?" the doctor asked. The team looked at each other, and then all nodded.
"There was a little girl that dropped by me and asked if I wanted to buy cookies from her," Van Pelt said.
"I enjoy every minute with my son Benjamin and my girlfriend Sarah," Rigsby explained. They turned towards Cho, who shrugged.
"I'm not telling mine."
"That's not necessary. You see, in a natural grieving process, the person will have moments of pleasure or happiness. They may be rare, but they are evident. With a depression, on the other hand, the feelings of emptiness and despair are constant. Me and one of our therapists have examined Mr. Jane for a few days now. As his doctor, I'm unbiased. We saw that his smiles are forced, his eyes are full of pain."
Van Pelt nodded. "Can he come home?"
"He can, for now. He has to come with one of you, though. Precautions. When he forms a threat for himself or you, we advise you to bring him back to us."
"I understand."
"I assume you'll be the person to take care of him? He trusts you the most," the doctor said. Van Pelt looked at Rigsby and Cho, who nodded.
"We'll be supporting you when you'll need it, Grace," Rigsby said, and Van Pelt sighed.
"He'll come with me."
"Great. I must ask you, Miss van Pelt-"
"Grace."
"Okay, Grace: Are you sure you're ready for it? What happened to Mr. Jane here is nothing compared to what might happen to him at home."
"I'm a police officer, I'm-"
"Human? I'm afraid I'm deadly serious, Grace. Taking care of stubborn children is easier than taking care of Mr. Jane in this state."
Van Pelt nodded. "And I'm serious too. He'll come with me."
The doctor reached in his clear white doctor's coat and got her his card.
"If something is wrong, doesn't matter what, call me. I'll be able to tell you what to do. Don't do rash things like trying to figure out yourself. Okay?"
Van Pelt nodded.
"See after him, Grace. Good luck."
-YulianaHenderson-
On the way from the hospital, Van Pelt and Jane had stopped by Jane's apartment to gather some of his clothes and then drove to her place.
This was something so very different than these moments in the hospital. She had laid in his bed then, but it felt different. The rest of the team was there, it just felt more comforting to her. She had always seen Jane as the brother she'd never had. Even if they didn't see eye to eye sometimes, she really cared about him, and she knew he about her.
She tried to make dinner with him. She explained everything he had to do, but he would just stare at the things as if it was the first time he ever cooked, had even ever seen these things. Van Pelt gave up eventually, settling him in her couch and finishing the dinner herself.
When they were done eating, Van Pelt had put on the TV and switched to the crime channel – she figured that added up to both their depressed mood. She watched, slightly bored, as Gibbs' team solved yet another murder. It looked so easy on TV, she had to admit. It was much more difficult in real life.
"Grace?" Jane suddenly asked, startling her. He hadn't said anything since she'd taken him outside of the hospital, had just stared in front of him, occasionally looking over at her. She hadn't expected him to say anything either, and she didn't even want him to talk, since the only thing on Jane's mind was Lisbon and she didn't want to think about her.
"Yes, Jane?"
"What do you know about Lisbon?" Jane asked, his voice small. Van Pelt sighed, thinking of dodging the question and retiring to bed, when she realized that he would probably probe until he got his answers.
She put the TV on mute, and turned towards him. "How much do you know about her?"
She wasn't sure if this was a smart move, since she already knew the possibility of him shutting down was big, but she had to know. She wasn't sure with whom Lisbon shared more.
She had no idea what had happened between these moments they sat on Jane's hospital bed, happily cheering about Lisbon, and Jane now sitting here on her couch, utterly depressed and on the edge of breaking.
Jane shrugged. "Her mother was killed in a car accident when Lisbon was only twelve. Her father became an alcoholic after that, blaming his children for her death, and when he died two years after that, Lisbon and her brothers vanished into the system. When Lisbon was old enough, she began to take care of her brothers herself. That's what I know."
His voice was as deadpanned as Cho's, even better. How long would it take before the entire team would talk like Cho?
It was somewhat funny how Jane knew everything from before police academy, and Van Pelt everything from after. She wasn't sure which one was better to know. Lisbon had endured a lot in her life.
"You?"
Van Pelt swallowed. "Everything from the moment she signed in at the police academy. Her break-up with Greg, the people that still tried to separate her and her brothers, the...," she paused, before she gathered the strength to talk again – they entered the personal zone now, and she wasn't even sure Jane knew it – and cocked her head to the side, in an attempt to make the next thing less audible, "her affair with Bosco."
She saw a faint flicker in Jane's eyes, and she swallowed. It was the prove that there was still something living inside him. He wasn't completely dead.
Jane slowly leant back against the backrest of the couch – it wasn't an expensive one, but it looked like it – and closed his eyes.
"I shouldn't be here. I should be with Lisbon."
"That's not true, Jane, and you know that too."
Jane sighed, opened his eyes to rapidly blink them.
"You tired?" Van Pelt asked, and Jane shrugged.
"I have two bedrooms; mine and a guestroom. You can pick if you want," Van Pelt said, and got up. Jane hesitated a bit, before following her.
Eventually, Jane had settled on the guestroom – he wouldn't sleep anyways so it didn't matter where he was going to suffer from insomnia – and Van Pelt had left the man alone.
She hoped he would be able to find some rest. Now that they weren't in the safe confines of the hospital, she knew it would be more difficult for him. She wasn't entirely sure if she could deal with him being depressed in her bed.
When she almost drifted into sleep though, she heard a faint knocking on the door, and she sighed.
She wished silently that she could switch with Lisbon now.
A/N: Yeah, Lisbon! You know, writing that part made me so happy, even though it was so sad. I miss Lisbon, seriously, and that makes me wonder how in hell I could proceed with this story.
Oh, and about the explanation part from the doctor about depressions: I tried my best in understanding grief and depressions, but I'm not a therapist or a psychologist/psychiatrist. I don't know if the direction this story is heading in right now is realistic, but I hope it is.
And I just watched an episode of Dance Academy, where one of the characters, Sammy, died in a car crash and the main character begins hallucinating about him. It looks so sad, so Jane: Sorry I'm putting you through this! Remember: Happy ending! :D
I know that Jane was seriously acting weird about the RJ case in the previous chapter, but he's confused :D.
And I think a lot of people have already figured out my 'secret' about the happy ending. Oh well, we'll see when we get there, won't we? :D
Let me know what you think in a REVIEW, thank you!