A/N: First off: A MASSIVE thanks to everybody that reviewed as some kind of birthday present yesterday! I owe you something!

I must tell you that I don't think I will be able to upload a new chapter the next two, three or even four days. I'm seriously busy with school right now (I'm in my last year of High School, so...), so don't blame me for a big delay on this story. I might promise to upload a new chapter this Saturday, but I don't know if I can keep my promise :D. I'll try, at least :D.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.

Jane looked up.

Teresa was eating her breakfast, not once looking away from the plate with the cereals.

Jane ran through all the options he had now.

He could just confront her with it. But that would just be plain mean, Teresa was already coping with a lot, being direct would only make it worse.

He could also bring it subtly. But in the end, it would end the same way as the first.

"Teresa?" he started, and she still stared at her cereals.

"Yes?"

"About... about this night," he said, and she swallowed.

"What about it?"

"Your dad, he... did he... do anything... bad to you?" he asked, and she looked up.

It scared him, the way she looked at him. So... deeply hurt.

"No."

He coughed. This was not going anywhere. He needed to do something, now.

"Teresa, you can-"
"Would you please stop it? I don't want to talk about it."

"But you have to-"

"Shut up! Seriously, I don't want to talk about it, if there was even something to talk about! I'm getting sick of this crap, I just want to go to my brothers!" she exclaimed, while jumping up and running away, into the direction of her bedroom.

Jane groaned. This was what he'd expected, yet he'd still started it.

He grabbed his phone, and dialed Van Pelt's number, maybe she knew what to do. She was still a girl at heart.

"Grace van Pelt," Van Pelt stated when she answered her phone.

"I need your help!" Jane immediately exclaimed.

"Oh, hey Jane, what's wrong?" Van Pelt asked, and Jane explained what happened. About the nightmare Teresa had had, and about their little fight.

"The thing right now is to let her think about things, alone. I assume you haven't left her alone in the past two days?" Van Pelt asked, and Jane blushed. It was true. Since the accident, he didn't want to leave her. What if something happened to her? She wasn't in the right state to manage with bad things herself, especially not because she was twelve. She had to take care of herself when she was officially twelve, he didn't want her to do that again. He was here for her, he could help her.

So why would he leave her alone?

"True."

"Leave her alone, even if it's just for an hour. Then you can talk to her. But you have to bring it subtly. Straight forward is never a good thing," Van Pelt said, and Jane sighed.

"Okay, thanks Grace," he said.

"Who's that?" a familiar voice at the other end of the conversation asked, and Jane smiled.

"Shh!" Van Pelt said.

"Why?" Rigsby asked, and Jane laughed.

"I'll leave you two alone, thanks for your help, Grace," Jane said, and hung up. He stared at the hall where the bedrooms were located.

He would give her one hour, then he would talk to her. It would give him enough time to think of what he would say.

-YulianaHenderson-

Teresa ran into her room, and fell down on her bed.

Patrick had been a hundred percent right. But why would she admit it? Because honestly, it wasn't his business. She didn't even know who he was. Maybe he was just as bad as her dad. Maybe he would hit her as well if she didn't listen to him.

But she knew he wasn't like her dad. Her dad would rather kick her and her brothers out of the house, so that he could drink on his own again.

Patrick would let her stay here as long as she needed.

So apparently, she looked like 38. She is 38.

Then why did she have the feeling that she was twelve?

It just didn't make any sense.

She walked over to the mirror that was hanging on the wall.

She had to admit: the 38 year old version of her was not ugly.

She touched her face, to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Of course she wasn't dreaming. She just didn't know how to deal with things yet.

If only her mother was here. She could help her with everything. With her dad, her brothers, this whole "I'm-supposed-to-be-38-but-I-feel-like-twelve" thing, and Patrick. Patrick.

She didn't really know him, but she could see that he cared about her.

She got up, and walked out of her room, into the living room.

-YulianaHenderson-

Well, of course Jane didn't know how to react when Teresa suddenly walked into the room. He was still thinking of a good thing to start with, but he assumed he could stop thinking about that, now that Teresa seemed to be starting with it herself.

"I need to talk to you," she started, but didn't walk over to the couch where Jane was laying. Instead she chose to stay in the doorway, causing Jane to sit up. Smart girl.

He looked at her. He saw that her eyes were red. She'd presumably cried.

He nodded, sat up straight, and tapped the spot next to him on the couch.

She now walked over to him, and sat down on the couch, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between them.

She looked at him.

"About my dad... You were right," she said, and Jane nodded.

"He... hits me and my brothers. Ever since my mum died, he can't control himself anymore."

Jane nodded again.

"He's an alcoholic," she said, and once again, Jane just nodded.

"I know."

"How do you know?" she asked, and he smiled, awkwardly.

"Because, my dear Teresa, I'm a genius," he said, and she smiled.

She leant back into the couch, placing her head on the back of the couch. After staring at the ceiling for a while, which seemed utterly interesting all of a sudden, she looked at him again.

"Well, now you know. Does it make you happier?" she asked, and Jane frowned.

"What do you mean?"
"You've been dying to hear it. About my dad, and all. Does it feel different?" she asked, and Jane sighed.

"Tell me about the older me," Teresa suddenly said, which startled Jane at first. But he regained his posture quickly, and looked her in the eyes.

"The older you?"

"Yeah, the older me. The one you seem to know," she said, and Jane swallowed.

"Yeah, I know her yes," he said.

"So?" Teresa asked, when Jane suddenly fell silent, because he didn't knew what to say.

"So what?"

"Come on, I want to know how I am like when I'm older!" Teresa exclaimed, and Jane was startled by her sudden outburst.

"Well, you're...," he started, but he didn't know how to proceed this. How do you tell somebody, who didn't even knew who she was, that you're in love with her?

A/N: And? AND? Let me know what you think in a REVIEW, thank you! I live on reviews these days :D.