'Till Death Do Us Part

A/N: This one's filled with MeganDon fluff, and a bit of Jisbon angst. You can't miss it, trust me. ;D

Oh, and another visit from the Cliche Fairy. You might see her flitting about right after it says "He looked into her eyes."


Chapter 13: Comfort

Hearing was the first sense to return to him. There was a quiet beeping in the background. Somehow, it managed to keep time with his heart, which was pumping at a normal rhythm. He wondered why that surprised him.

Smell came back second. There was a distinct antiseptic smell to the air.

Great, he thought. Hospital. It was a sign of too many trips that he knew where he was just by the smell of the air.

Deciding it was time to return to the world of the living, he tried to open his eyes. The bright overhead lights blinded his vision for a moment, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the light. Once the impressions had faded from the backs of his eyelids, he slowly opened one eye at a time until he could see perfectly.

Okay, got that down.

He turned his head slowly to see a sleeping Megan slumped in an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair. One of her hands was wrapped around his. He couldn't keep from smiling.

He gently squeezed her hand, and she woke with a start, her eyes open wide. She took a moment to take in the room, and then she was sitting forward, hands on his arm.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she said quietly.

"Hey." His mouth and throat were so dry that it was the only word he could get out.

"Oh, here." Megan hurried over to a sink in the corner and filled a small paper cup with water. She held it to his lips, seeming to know that he didn't have enough strength to hold it himself just yet.

"Thanks," he said when he was done. He let his head fall back on the pillows. "Did we get him? Brownfield?"

"Yeah." Megan's face darkened. "He's dead."

Don blinked in surprise. "Dead?" he echoed. "Who shot him?"

"Our good friend, Mr. Patrick Jane," Megan said dryly.

Of course. Despite Don's warning, the idiot had shot Brownfield anyway. Don closed his eyes. He was unable to stop himself from flashing back to Crystal Hoyle, driving her car full of grenades right t their barricade, himself, pulling the trigger, watching the explosion…

"Don?" Megan's worried voice and her hands tightening on his arm brought Don back to the present. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Don tried to steady his voice. "I told him not to."

Megan was silent for a moment. "It's not your fault, Don."

"I should have gone to find him before we left."

"Lisbon might have ended up dead if you had," Megan pointed out.

"We got her out then?" Don asked.

"Yeah. Got her statement and everything."

Statement? Already? "How long was I out," Don asked, bewildered.

"Two days," Megan admitted.

Two days?! "Charlie? My dad?" he asked anxiously.

"I already told them," Megan assured him.

"I should have been the one to tell them," Don said.

"You were unconscious in case you forgot," Megan said dryly. "Besides, they were starting to get curious when someone mentioned that the case was closed and we hadn't gotten back yet."

"Granger," Don groaned. "Doesn't he ever think before he says things?"

"He didn't know right then, either," Megan admitted. "The only people who knew were the people who were there."

"Is everyone else okay?" Don asked. "No one got hurt?"

"No," Megan said quietly. "Everyone's fine. Everyone but you." She was silent for a moment. "I thought you were going to die."

Don was stunned into silence. "W-What?"

"You were so pale," Megan whispered, "and there was blood everywhere." She looked down at her hands.

"Megan?" Don tried to get her attention, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"You couldn't stay awake, and Cho was trying to stop the bleeding, and you kept talking about Ian, and I was trying so hard not to cry, but I – "

"Megan!" Don put a hand to her face. "Megan. I'm okay. I'm right here. I'm fine."

She looked up. "You could've died, Don. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Well, it obviously bothers you," Don said. "Megan, what's wrong? You okay?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah. Fine now. Sorry."

"Megan..." He looked into her eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Don." She looked up, meeting his gaze.

They both seemed to freeze. The hospital seemed to go silent, and the antiseptic smell faded from the air. Even the sound of the heart monitor seemed to stop.

Don leaned forward slowly...

Their lips met only for a few moments, but it felt like hours.

When they pulled away, Don couldn't tear his eyes from her face. He swallowed hard.

"That..." Megan seemed to be at a loss for words. "I... I don't even know."

Don laughed weakly. "Me neither, Meg."

"You're sure you're alright?" Lisbon questioned Cho. "You fell three stories."

"I'm fine, Boss," Cho promised. "Don't worry. You might want to go make sure Jane's hovering doesn't scare away Rigsby and Van Pelt." He nodded over towards where Jane was standing by Rigsby's desk, obviously torn between going to his couch and staying where he was.

Lisbon glanced over at him. "I think it's kind of sweet," she admitted. Annoying, but sweet. Jane had hardly left her side since she had left the studio. In fact, the only time when he had was when the paramedics denied him entrance to the ambulance. It had been crammed enough with Reeves in there already.

The memory of the ambulance ride brought Lisbon shivers. Eppes had nearly died on the way to the hospital. If they'd arrived ten minutes later, he might have.

Reeves had been a mess, attempting to keep herself under control enough to tell one of the paramedics Eppes's name.

"It's a good thing the guy's dead," one of the EMT's had muttered later. "Or else I'd be afraid she'd go after him."

And that was the other thing that sent chills down Lisbon's spine. Mac, dead, lying on the hard floor of the studio. She knew it was a good thing that he was dead, gone from her life, never to terrorize her again, but she couldn't help thinking that it was her own damn fault. All of it. Mac wouldn't have died, Eppes wouldn't have gotten shot, and Cho wouldn't have fallen three stories.

And Jane wouldn't have the murder of a man on his conscience, not that Lisbon thought it was troubling him too much.

"Lisbon?" A worried voice brought her out of her thoughts.

Speak of the devil...

Lisbon looked up to see Jane hovering over her protectively. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she promised. "Just lost in thought."

Jane nodded uncertainly. He shot a glance over Lisbon's shoulder, and she heard Cho leave, his footsteps fading quickly.

"Lisbon, is there something wrong?" Jane asked quietly. "Something happened back at the studio. You were off then, too. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Jane," Lisbon said. "I'm fine."

"It's not your fault, you know," Jane said. Of course, reading her mind again. "None of it is."

Lisbon couldn't help a snort. "If I had been a little smarter to begin with, none of this would have happened."

"As much as I wish that it didn't," Jane said, "the fact is that if it didn't, Brownfield never would have been gotten rid of. He would have found some other poor girl, or he would have done whatever he could to get you."

"His name was Mac," Lisbon snapped irritably. "And he didn't need to be 'gotten rid of!'"

"Lisbon, that man was a monster," Jane said seriously. "He would have killed you to keep us away from you. He would have done anything."

"He wouldn't have done that," Lisbon said. "You didn't know him."

"Neither did you!" Jane shot back. "Lisbon, you knew him for all of what, two days?"

"He had a daughter, Jane!" Lisbon snapped. "He would never have hurt her like that!"

Jane stared at her. "A... A daughter?" he stammered. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't know you cared," Lisbon sneered. "I thought he just needed to be 'gotten rid of.'"

"Lisbon, I..." Jane's eyes were pained and dark. "Lisbon, if I had known..."

"What, Jane?" Lisbon looked up at him angrily. "If you had known, what?"

"I would never have done that to him," Jane whispered. "A daughter..."

Suddenly, Lisbon made the connection. Jane, and his daughter, Red John separating them forever. And now it was reversed. Jane had ripped apart father and daughter, Mac and Megan. The girl would never see her father again.

"Oh, Jane," she whispered. "I- I'm sorry."

"I never should have touched him, Lisbon," he whispered. "You have nothing to be apologizing about. It's me who should be sorry."

"You didn't know..." Lisbon tried.

"I should have," Jane whispered. "I should have – "

"Jane, stop, it's not your fault," Lisbon said, the roles suddenly reversing.

"But I –"

She shut him up, pressing her lips to his.

A/N: Well, finally! Thought she'd never take a hint. ;D

So anyway, only the epilogue left! :(

Review!

Off to take over the world,

Crazy Girl