A/N: All characters, cases, and locations belong to Bruno Heller, CBS, and affiliates. Thank you for all the reviews. We're going to see what the videos and Lisbon's family emergency have to do with each other in the next chapter. As always, please review.

There was only a heartbeat before the sound of the mouse clicking on the second and last video file. The file opened to reveal a very white looking hospital wing.

The camera moved slightly only to settle on a view of the empty bed, filled with ruffled sheets and a table filled with bloody bandages and tape.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," the voice of the male detective from the other video spoke as he walked into view. The camera view followed him to expose a dark hair girl in curled up in the window seat, looking out into street below the window.

She wore a white and blue hospital gown and had detached the IV cords from the monitor to have them hanging from the back of her hand, nearly brushing the ground from where she sat. She didn't turn to face him.

"When can I take my brothers home?"

"You were shot, Teresa," the man said gently.

"I'm well aware of that. You can't lock me in a room when I've done nothing wrong. I have a right to see them."

She was small and terribly thin. She had a thin build with pale and freckled skin. Purple and blue bruises could be seen on her bare legs, folded under her. Her hair was dark and curly. It was messily plaited away from her face to reveal bright and brilliant green eyes and a sprinkle of freckles along her nose.

"It's for your protection," the man said gently, seating himself in the plastic chair near her. "You could still be in danger."

"My father shot himself after he put three rounds through me. I doubt he can do any more harm now," Lisbon said briskly, watching the man carefully for a few seconds before turning back towards her window.

The detective ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward towards the girl. "Teresa, four years ago you were at the top of your class, taking AP classes, you were first chair in clarinet, star track runner, and then nothing. No clarinet, no track, nothing. You dropped out of everything. Why?"

The girl laughed bitterly. "Someone had to do something after my mother died," she said after a moment quietly. "Everything was a mess and somebody had to fix it."

"That's an awful lot of responsibility on a thirteen year old girl."

Lisbon didn't answer, but wrapped her arms around her torso, as if she needed more warmth.

"What have you done with my brothers?"

"They've been checked out by the doctor and other than the scrapes and bruises, they seem to have no long lasting damage, unlike you, I might add. They're at a hotel with a social worker and two of our detectives."

"When can I see them?"

"Soon. The doctors almost lost you twice in surgery and it took you three days to come out of the coma. They want to keep you for the rest of the week. You're not even supposed to be out the bed yet," he said slightly frowning, "they're a little more worried about the internal damage you've collected over the past few months. They could have killed you if you hadn't gotten medical attention soon. Teresa, I need you to tell me what happened with you father."

"You already have the report. He came home drunk, he had a gun. He shot at me and then took his own life. End of story. I assume one of my brothers called 911 and you people ended up there," she snapped, coldly.

"I need more than that. I need you to go through it with me, I need all the details. I know it's hard, but I need you to trust me with those details."

"Trust you? I don't even know you. You've locked me in a hospital room, you've confiscated my brothers, and you refuse to let me see them," she said, whirling around to look at him.

A long and angry scar started and her collar bone and trailed down into the hospital gown. Her eyes had deep bags under them from stress and sleepless nights. She had purple handprints on her forearms where someone had grabbed her and handful of cigarette burns on her upper arms. No one could guess what lied under the gown.

"I told the last officer that was in here demanding answers. I was in the study doing homework when the front door opened and my father came inside. It was maybe two thirty in the morning. I had already put the boys to bed upstairs. He stumbled in, yelling about gods knows what and I thought he had a bottle in his hand so I got up to try and get it from him.

"The last time he brought one home, he tried to slam it down on Tommy's head and luckily I was home to stop it or else Tommy would be dead. I coaxed the bottle from him and he got angry and it shattered on the wall.

"Then he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a gun. Look like a revolver, probably a 32 caliber. He pointed it at me, mistaking me from my mother and getting angry about an affair that didn't happened, saying something about leaving everyone. He does that; making things up in his head that never happened when she was alive," she reeled off without stopping.

Lisbon took a breath and folded herself back in the corner of the window seat. Detective Moore didn't move or speak, but kept intently watching her.

"Then he cocked the gun and fired it once. I got out of the way and the bullet hit the kitchen counter. The noise startled him out of whatever fantasy he was in. He got even more upset with me. I thought he was going to fire again and I started to try and take the gun. The next thing I remember was feeling…like I had been set on fire. I landed on the kitchen floor and I heard another two shots. Then nothing."

She hadn't broken eye contact and her emeralds of eyes continue to bear into the officer's until he cleared his throat. "There were drag marks of on the hardwood floors, from where you landed to where your father's body was found DOA when the first responders came. You tried to reach him. The first bullet hit your shoulder, a threw and threw. The second buried itself in your stomach missing any vital organs. That was probably why you fell. The third bullet hit you in the chest. Another three centimeters and you would be paralyzed from the neck down, but you still managed to drag yourself ten feet to try and resuscitate the man who just shot you."

"Was there a question in that, Officer?"

He took her tone as a good reason to leave her alone. "I will tell the doctors that you can be released as soon as possible. Some of your father's fire fighter coworkers have been coming by trying to see you. Something about the funeral arrangement, but the officer outside has refused any entrance. Do you have someone we can call for you? Another family member?"

Teresa turned back towards the window. "No. My grandparents are dead and my parents were only children. There's no one."

The man frowned, sadly as the girl seemed to lose herself in the reflection outside again

"You protected them, you know. You managed to keep them all alive and now you can move on with your life. As the bravest of them, you survived Teresa."

"Goodbye Officer Moore."

The man sighed and cut in front of the camera, clicking it off, turning the screen black.

"We should have left it alone," Rigsby said as Grace scrubbed at her tear filled eyes. "She wouldn't like that we watched this."

"There's nothing we can do about it now."

The hard tone Jane had adopted made the others turn towards him. His face was expressionless and his hands curled into fists at his side.

"Act normal. If you don't you'll tip her off that we know and she'll never forgive us. Just…just forget you saw it."

"We could just tell her. I don't want to have to look at her every day and think about how not to mention the video," Grace began, but Jane cut her off.

"No. You don't know Lisbon like I do. She doesn't want any of you to know. Just…just leave it alone and go home," he said angrily, stalking back towards Lisbon's empty office and slamming the door.