A/N: So here it is! I'm typing up part four, it should be up maybe tomorrow. Quicker than usual because I can't actually do anything right now. I'm the only person who could sprain her foot falling UP the stairs.
I just realized that I have not yet added a disclaimer. If I owned this, there would be no janitors allowed on the show...ever.
Jane was pacing back and forth across the waiting room. He had impatiently waved off the nurse who had tried to clean him up. He had instead opted for a cup of tea to soothe his nerves. It hadn't helped. Patrick Jane was not a patient man. He tried to focus his mind on other images, but it was no use. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the terrified expression on Lisbon's face when she realized that she couldn't see.
He all but pounced on the nurse who came in to bring him to Lisbon. He fired a million questions at the poor woman about his boss's condition. She continually told him that she didn't know anything for certain, that the doctor would be in the room in a few minutes to talk to them and explain the situation. She left him at the door to a room that was identical to every other one in the hall. What was special for Jane about this specific door was the woman waiting for him behind it.
He entered quietly in case she was sleeping. Lisbon was. She looked like a child, curled up in a ball on her side with raven curls tumbling down around her face. He brushed them tenderly off of her cheek before settling himself in the chair next to her bed. He noticed with displeasure the gauze that was taped over her eyes, keeping them closed and protected.
It took around ten minutes for the doctor to come in, and by then the normally cool headed Jane had managed to convince himself that something had gone horrible wrong and they were notifying next of kin. The now awake Lisbon was huffing in and out, also annoyed with the long wait. When the doctor finally appeared, she walked in briskly, shook his hand briskly, drew the curtains around the bed briskly. At Jane's anxious, questioning look, the doctor began to give her report. "Two sprains, one in the left ankle, the other in the right wrist. A few lacerations and abrasions on the arms, mostly minor, few stitches. The blindness is temporary, 48 to 72 hours minimum, though."
Jane and Lisbon both let out a breath. Jane looked down at Lisbon, feeling a little less guilty than he had before. When he looked up again, the doctor continued. "Small blood clots probably formed on impact, impeding her sight. We should probably keep her here until her vision returns. She needs to rest."
Jane opened his mouth to argue, but Lisbon placed a restraining hand on his arm to stop him. The gentle coolness of it startled him into silence. It was Lisbon who spoke instead. "I'm sorry, doctor, but that's out of the question," she said. "I need to be with my team."
The doctor nodded. "That's understandable, but we still need to run some tests." At Jane's impatient look, she added, "but they shouldn't take more than a few hours. You can go back to work then, but take it easy. No running, and try not to get too excited." After Lisbon had promised to follow orders, she left.
"I'll stay here with you!" Jane said cheerily. "I'm sure you'll want some company while you wait." Lisbon didn't need to be able to see to know that his signature brilliant white, obnoxiously heart-stopping smile was plastered across his angel-like features.
"Wipe that grin off your face or I'll slap it off," she said irritably. She could almost hear his smile widen. "I don't want any company right now, thank you very much. And they'll need you on the case." Really, she just hated feeling so vulnerable, and she didn't want Jane to pick up on that. The last thing she wanted was to give him more insight into the workings of her mind. He had, of course, already picked up on it, but he liked to let her think that she could lie to him every once in a while. "Go read somebody's mind or something," she grumbled.
Jane gathered up his coat. It was covered in blood and rubble, and he knew he probably didn't look much better than the piece of clothing. He made a mental note to change on the way back. He'd change into a new suit, a clean one, presenting the carefully perfect, unafraid mask. Really, he wanted to die for hurting Lisbon. Despite feeling guilty, he couldn't help poking a little bit of fun at her. "You shouldn't get so angry, Lisbon," he smirked. "Doctor's orders."
If she hadn't been blinded, the plastic cup Lisbon hurled in his direction as he ran, laughing out the door probably would have left a welt.
