Chapter Thirty-Three: The Guardian
Buck Hoskins strolled into the office, grinning like he was an extra-special gift, waiting for Grace under the Christmas tree. He had a small bag of Doritos in one hand, a steaming coffee in the other. "Miss me?" he teased.
Grace's own smile was feral. "You have no idea."
Hoskins chuckled. He deposited the coffee and chips on the desktop, then glanced at the computer, which had been turned off. "All done?"
"I've seen everything I need to," she told him.
Relief melted a few lines off the CEO's forehead. "Great! Should we head out, then? It's getting pretty late, and they're holding a fantastic table for us. We'll take my Mercedes. You can eat your chips on the way…"
"Sounds perfect," Grace purred. "Except for one thing."
Hoskins raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"I don't think you'll be able to drive with these on." She dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of him, and took a deep breath. "Buck Hoskins, you are so under arrest."
Grace allowed herself one moment of vicious pleasure, watching that smile drop right off his face.
XxXxXxX
Jane and Penny settled in for the night under the majestic arch of their dragon's neck.
Jane was reminded of stone gargoyles on ancient castle turrets, and the miniature versions people nowadays put on porches and beside walkways. Guardians to ward off intruders. Protectors, keeping homes and families safe.
It was all superstitious nonsense, of course.
Plaster demons didn't keep the real monsters away…
Jane sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning his head back until blonde curls brushed stone. Sitting was a beautiful thing. He decided that he had never truly appreciated it before this moment. With Penny curled up beside him, a warm ball at his hip, Jane felt every tense, fearful, painful moment of the day slowly begin to seep out of him. Tendons uncoiled, and nerves smoothed. Muscles melted into quivering Jell-o. Relief rolled over him in blissful waves, and his body sang its approval.
Jane closed his eyes.
Sitting had never ever felt so good…
He thought of his soft brown couch, how comfortable it was…much like riding in the back of the CBI van on a warm afternoon, the rumble of road beneath him, bass beats bleeding from Rigsby's headphones, Cho reading, Lisbon and Van Pelt up front, talking low about yoga and girl-movies…The sun, warm on the seat…
Something touched Jane's thigh. He gasped, eyes startling open.
Penny had just rested her head in his lap. Jane stared down at her, his heart beating a fast-paced warning to his brain:
The quiet un-spooling of his tight-wound thoughts. Long, deep breaths, sighing in and out of his chest. His jaw going slack…
Sleep. He'd been falling asleep.
Jane wasn't used to it happening like that – quick and easy, without any pills at all.
He sat up straighter, and made his eyes stay open. Jane gave his weary brain a task: identify the constellations by name, and give a few facts about each. For a little while, it worked. Jane found Aries the Ram, and Bootes the Herdsman. He spotted Corvus the Crow, and Canis Major, with its twinkling bright luminary, Sirius.
After twenty minutes, though, the gears started winding down. His slow thoughts ambled from Andromeda the Chained Lady, to Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights. He remembered the one time he had seen them, how the beauty had burned right into him. A rainbow of fire, dancing and twisting across the midnight sky. He remembered looking up and thinking, just for those few breath-snatching moments, that maybe people weren't fools to believe in the afterlife…
He could hear Grace Van Pelt's voice, in all its conviction:
The Kingdom of God is a real place, Mr. Jane…
His mind cycled back to when she'd first joined the team, reliving lobster dinner and magic tricks, hardly aware that his eyelids were growing lazy. Rigsby had almost choked, that night…
Penny's exhales were soft and even, steady as a metronome. Hypnotic…
Rigsby was a good man…
This time when Jane jerked awake, it was with a flash of anger. He fisted his uninjured hand and pounded it against the rock.
No. No sleeping.
Jane almost laughed, as soon as he thought the words.
"No sleeping."
Today was just chock-full of irony, wasn't it?
All those years, waging war with insomnia…And now the one time he could sleep – easily, deeply, completely – he wasn't allowed to. Because succumbing to slumber, that would be like leaving Penny. He couldn't leave her alone.
Not like he had left them, that night.
That thought kept him sharp for a while; nothing like the old whip-crack of self-flagellation. But the sting gradually started to wear off, and Jane knew he had to do something else – something to keep the pain alive…
He shifted his broken leg, pressing it hard against the ground. A fresh fire-burst of agony popped his eyes wide. Acid swirled in his stomach. Jane breathed raggedly, watching the stars swim across the sky.
Well, that worked quite nicely, he thought. He now had no desire to sleep, and a very powerful desire to cry.
He started shivering instead. Jane's teeth clacked and he huddled, utterly miserable, wishing for the pain to go away and stay at the same time. The chattering must have disturbed Penny, because she turned her head to look up at him. Jane smiled feebly, sure there was no blood left in his face. He stroked a shaky hand over her copper hair. Penny gave a soft sigh, and rested her cheek on his leg again.
Jane rubbed at his eyes. He wished Lisbon would get here soon…
Relief came slowly, in trickles and drips. His tremors eased, and his teeth stopped rioting. He was able to take full breaths instead of short gasps. The shrieking nerve-endings in his shattered leg went from opera-scream down to regular-person scream, and Jane let it all happen, let it all fade…right up until the moment he wanted to close his eyes.
Then, weary and resigned, he braced himself to do it all over again.