A/N: Oh, wow, guys. You have no idea how nervous I am about this chapter. Seriously... It's killing me right now!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.
"Close your eyes," Jane whispered, and Teresa did, grabbing his hands.
They entered his old house in Malibu. It gave him chills to be back here. The last time he had visited this house was when Lisbon'd tried this on him when he lost his memory. It wasn't his favorite house, that's for sure.
He led her to the stairs. How was he going to do this when she had her eyes closed?
He came to stand before her, and grabbed her arms, swinging them over his shoulders. He didn't know why he wanted her to close her eyes. But for him it gave some kind of comfort. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it.
When she jumped up and swung her legs around his waist, he could feel she was nervous. But he didn't feel that she didn't want it.
He walked upstairs, and felt shivers running down his spine as he saw that one door.
He wanted to place her down again, but she only partly complied. She kept leaning on Jane by placing her arms around his waist.
When they reached the room, he hesitated a bit. But she gave him a gentle squeeze, and that made him move again. He opened the door and was met by the bloody red smiley. But he didn't feel anything. No anger, no sadness.
"Look," he whispered, and she opened her eyes. But as soon as she did, she collapsed. Because of her arms, he could hold her uptight.
He sat down in the hall, after he'd closed the door, and placed Teresa's head on his chest.
He concentrated on his breathing, making sure he inhaled and exhaled properly, but found that rather difficult with an unconscious Teresa in his arms.
He planted small kisses on the top of her head. He didn't knew what to do anyway, so he just sat there, with Teresa in his arms, waiting until she awoke.
But she wouldn't wake up. After half an hour, she was still unconscious, and he was growing worried.
While Teresa was still in his arms, he grabbed his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, and dialed 9-1-1.
After explaining what was wrong, he hung up, and looked at Teresa again.
"Oh Reese, I hope this will result in you getting your memory back again," he whispered, and swung his arms around her again.
-YulianaHenderson-
"Mister, you can't go in here," a nurse asked, but in vain.
Jane ran inside the hospital room where they kept Teresa.
She immediately looked up.
But instead of the relieved smile he was expecting, the kind of relieved you got when you had amnesia and were suddenly cured, he saw fear. Or something like that. Nothing like relief.
"What can you remember?" he asked, as he rushed to her side. But when he grabbed her hand, she moved away from him.
"Teresa?" he asked, but she closed her eyes.
"Don't call me Teresa. I can remember everything from before the accident, but also from after it. And what we've done together was... not good," she said, in that serious way she got taught at the police academy.
Jane now felt seriously panicked.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. I want you to leave, Jane, I never want to see you again," she again said, and Jane had to swallow to get rid of the giant lump forming in his throat.
He nodded.
"I... I understand. Well, if you want to speak with me, you know where to find me," he said, and she nodded. Not a single emotion was on her face. Not one.
He turned around, and decided not to look over his shoulder again.
He felt ashamed, because he thought that Lisbon felt the same for him as well. But he assumed he'd read her wrong. All these years.
The big Patrick Jane, known for tricking people to death, was being turned down, by the only woman he truly loved.
He felt horrible. Someone tricked him. His own Lisbon tricked him into thinking that she felt the same. All these stares, loving smiles, words of love, were just all signs of friendship, and not actual love.
When he arrived at his home – his home in Malibu – the horrible feeling hadn't disappeared yet.
So he sat down underneath the red smiley in that one room, and for once, he didn't feel the sadness of his deceased wife and child. He felt the sadness of the loss of Special Agent Teresa Lisbon. And he wasn't sure what was more difficult to bare. But considering he was now crying about the past few days, he assumed the latter one.
-YulianaHenderson-
Teresa Lisbon lay in the big hospital bed.
And was crying.
And she was sure that was because of her broken heart.
That she caused herself this time. It wasn't anybody's fault. Only hers.
So why did she do it? Why did she send him away?
She didn't get it herself. She felt as if the last few days had been the happiest days she'd had in years.
Lisbon slit down in her bed, and threw the blanket over her head.
She was a moron, a nitwit. And she knew it.
A/N: Can you... Can you just review this, please? I want to know if this is bad or not, and if it fits what you want to read and all... Please, I want to know!