Disclaimer: Not mine.
CHAPTER 11: Another Funeral
Lisbon leaned her head against the seat as Van Pelt drove them back to her apartment. Teresa let her eyes flutter shut, sighing. She despised it when Jane suddenly shut her out. She despised it when anyone shut her out. It made her feel weak, insecure. She hated feeling like this.
"Boss, are you alright?" Van Pelt asked, glancing briefly over to Lisbon. "You've been awfully quiet."
"My godson died," she replied flatly.
Grace blushed, ashamed. "I know, and I'm so sorry." She paused. "Did you and Jane get into a fight or something? Because when he was walking to his car, he looked pretty upset about something."
Lisbon shrugged, gazing out the window.
Van Pelt, smart girl she was, figured that this was her cue to drop the subject. "So, physical therapy seems to be working," she commented lightly without taking her eyes off the road.
Lisbon smiled, pleased to be away from the previous subject. "It really is," she confessed. "My hips are completely healed, and the pain in my head seems to be shrinking every day. Dr. Ellis said that my arm should be out of this sling this week, and I can graduate to a walking cast."
Grace beamed. "That's great!" she exclaimed excitedly. "That means you will be out of that wheelchair."
"Finally."
"That's wonderful, boss."
"Thank you." The smile faltered slightly as she glanced down at her lap.
Grace frowned. "What is it?"
"It's... killing me. Not remembering, I mean."
"I know."
"Even Asher is beginning to grow frustrated." Lisbon sighed. "He's tried everything. He's tried the cliché little trips down memory lane. He's tried having me 'retrace my steps.' He's even tried hypnosis. Jane tried hypnotizing me, too. That didn't work either."
"Maybe you shouldn't try to force the memories back to you," Grace suggested as she turned down Lisbon's street. "I mean, maybe the reason you're having such a hard time remembering is because you are trying too hard. Just relax, go with the flow, and it will come back to you." Grace. The optimist.
Teresa shook her head. "I really don't think that's it," she argued. "Remember Jane? I don't think he would have remembered anything if something hadn't triggered his memory."
"But you didn't lose years and years of your memory," Grace countered. "You only lost a few hours."
"Exactly. That is why it is so damn frustrating!"
Grace pulled her car into her usual parking spot next to the apartment complex, throwing the car into park and turning to her boss. "Okay. You lost me."
"I only lost a few hours of my memory. I know for a fact that before I lost it, I had no intention of committing suicide. That means that I must have made a very, very quick decision to jump, to end things, or..." Lisbon trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Or... what? What the hell happened that night, and why on Earth couldn't she remember?
"Or what, boss?" Grace asked.
"I have no idea."
"You think someone might have done this to you?" Her voice was flat, doubtful.
"Possibly," she murmured. "But then again, it's highly unlikely."
"How so?"
Lisbon shifted in her seat so she could face Van Pelt more directly. "Well, first, I left a note." That reminded her. She had forgotten to get the note from Jane. Again. "Second, I can't think of anyone who might want me dead. Sure, people hate cops, but most of the people who hate them are in jail. And three, even if there was someone who wanted me dead, why would they hike me a mile away from my home and shove me off that cliff? I mean, why wouldn't they gun me down in my own home or something quick and easy?"
"I really don't know, boss."
"You think I jumped, don't you?"
Grace looked down, embarrassed. "It is the only logical explanation. Like you said, you did leave a note, and nobody would want you dead, Lisbon. Honestly."
Lisbon nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm sorry," Grace apologized. "I know that isn't what you wanted to hear..."
"No need to be sorry. I'm the one who brought it up. Just do me a favor, okay? Please don't mention any of this to the team. Jane especially."
"I promise." Grace smiled. "Alright, let's get you upstairs."
X
He plopped down onto his makeshift bed in his attic at the CBI, running his hands over his face in exasperation. It was hard not to think about that awful day when it was constantly running through your mind day and night.
He supposed he couldn't exactly blame her for bringing it up. She wasn't working, and she was cooped up in her apartment 24/7. It was probably tormenting her, not knowing the whole story. The truth was, no one knew the whole story. No one knew why she did it. She didn't even know why she did it.
Why the hell had she done it?
He wasn't thinking clearly, and his very first instinct was to jump.
He almost did, too. It took a few seconds to realize that it would do neither of them any good, and he slowly backed away from the ledge of the cliff. At this point, he was having trouble breathing, seeing, hearing. It was like his senses were temporarily taken away from him.
As he backed away from the cliff, he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his back, landing in the grass. The impact was enough to bring him back to reality, he immediately got to his feet. He stumbled toward the ledge of the cliff again, sinking to his knees and crawling the rest of the way. He shut his eyes. This isn't happening, he thought. When I open my eyes, I will be on the couch in the CBI. Lisbon will be standing over me, glaring at me the way she does. She is not at the bottom of that cliff.
When he opened his eyes, he was not at the CBI. He was at the ledge of the cliff.
And Lisbon was not standing over him. She was at the bottom of that cliff.
The first thing he did was whip out his phone and call the paramedics. In a shaking voice, he reported his location and his situation. Once he hung up the phone, he scanned his surroundings, urgently searching for a place he could climb down. There was a spot about a quarter mile away that looked as if the cliff was not as steep or high. He sprinted to the spot as fast as he could.
It took him less than five minutes to make it to the bottom of the cliff. As soon as his feet hit the bottom, he was running to her. Tears were streaming freely down his face but he brushed them away. His cell phone was ringing but he ignored it. Obstacles stood in his way but he dodged them. He was on autopilot. His mind was only with her.
X
Lisbon woke from her nap to the sound of Grace weeping.
"Grace?" she called out, rubbing her eyes and pulling herself up with the railing Jane had installed. She carefully eased herself into her wheelchair and wheeled herself out her bedroom door and to the top of the staircase, glancing over the banister. She could see Grace seated on the couch, head in her hands, shoulders shaking.
"Grace!" Lisbon exclaimed. "What's the matter?"
Grace looked up, eyes red and swollen. She stood from the couch, wiping at her eyes and walking to the bottom of the staircase. "My father just called," she blubbered. "My favorite aunt passed away earlier today."
"Oh, Grace," Lisbon murmured. "I am so sorry."
"Thank you." She swallowed. "Would you like help down?"
"Yes, please."
When Lisbon was settled onto the couch, she patted the spot next to her and Grace plopped down, sniffling. "I'm so sorry, Grace."
"Thank you."
"When is the funeral?"
"Next weekend."
"Where?"
Grace wiped at her eyes. "Boston. That's where my aunt and her family lived." She blew her nose with a tissue. "The rest of the family is flying to Boston on Wednesday, and the funeral is on Saturday. Kind of like a... family reunion. Sort of."
"You will probably need to book the airfare as soon as possible."
"Boss, I can't go."
"Of course you can."
"But you-"
"Me, nothing," Teresa argued. "This arm cast is supposed to come off this week, and I'll be out of the wheelchair." She smiled encouragingly. "Go. I can take care of myself."
"No way. I am not leaving you alone."
"Grace, I'll be fine."
Van Pelt shook her head stubbornly. "Jane will stay here."
Lisbon snorted. "No chance."
"He would be absolutely thrilled to do it. You know that."
"Grace, no."
"Lisbon, I am not leaving you here by yourself," Grace said firmly. "If you would rather have Cho or Rigsby here, that's fine. But I am not leaving you here by yourself."
"I'm not twelve. I can stay by myself."
"I would feel better if someone were here with you."
"If you are worried that I'm going to go back to that cliff-"
"I'm not," Grace cut her off. "Please. Just let Jane stay here. It will only be for a few days."
"A few days with Jane is like a year in hell."
Van Pelt smirked. "It really would make me feel better if someone were here. That way I wouldn't be worrying about you the entire time..."
"You don't need to worry about me! I'm not twelve," she reminded her, again.
"Why must you be so damn stubborn?" Grace pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. "I'm calling Jane. No arguments. We've both had a bad enough day already."
Lisbon couldn't argue with that.
X
He clung to her.
He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into his arms and take her away from this rocky, terrible place, but he was afraid he might hurt her. Surely she must have several broken bones. The fall was a good thirty or forty feet. A small pool of blood had formed beneath her. He checked for a pulse. Thankfully, she still had one. "Stay with me, sweetheart," he whispered to her, over and over again. "Stay with me. Please."
What had she been doing out here? How had she fallen? Had she slipped, or tripped? Why had she been so close to the ledge?
The paramedics and rescue team arrived shortly after his tearful phone call and Teresa was up on the main ground in minutes. Jane watched them ease her onto a stretcher and haul her up to the top of the cliff, dazed. Officers tried to question him but he was so far gone. "I have to go with her," he had mumbled. "I need to go with her."
"You can follow the ambulance back to the hospital," one officer had told him.
He shook his head. "No. I need to go with her." He looked at the officer. "It's what she would want. She wouldn't want to be alone." He started up the hill, the same spot he had used to climb down.
"Sir, we still have questions. Sir!" the officer had called after him.
The shrill sound of his ringing cell phone jerked him from the painful memory as he sat alone in his CBI hideout. He glanced at the caller ID. Grace Van Pelt.
"Hello, Grace," he answered.
"Hi, Jane," she said. "Sorry to bother you."
"You're not bothering me," he insisted. "What can I do for you?"
"I just found out that I have this... family thing next week in Boston," Grace began. "I was wondering if you could stay with Lisbon for a few days and-" She was cut off by the sound of Lisbon's protests and Jane couldn't help but smile. Grace raised her voice to drown out Lisbon's. "And help her out with the cooking and stuff. She is certain that she can do everything on her own, but I would much rather have someone here. She will be out of the wheelchair and everything but just in case anything goes wrong-"
"I don't need a babysitter!" Lisbon barked.
Jane chuckled. "Sure, Grace. I can do that."
"I wish you the best of the luck," Grace muttered. "She is very stubborn."
A/N: This wasn't necessarily the most exciting chapter, nor was it one of my favorites. It was more of a... filler chapter. Nevertheless, I still would appreciate reviews! Predictions? Thought?