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Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter 13: The Second Time Around
She tried not to wince when Jane applied a cool washcloth to her forehead, but he wasn't fooled. "Sorry," he apologized in a soft tone. She was seated on the bathroom counter with a bleeding forehead and a far-off look in her eye. He chuckled. "You know, this may be part of the reason Van Pelt didn't want to leave you alone," he teased.
She scowled, clearly not amused.
"It was a joke," he claimed.
"I know."
He sighed, dabbing the cloth on her wound again. He examined it carefully, debating on whether or not he should take her to the hospital to get stitches. "So, where are you?"
That caught her attention. Her eyes flicked to his and she rotated her head to the side. "What do you mean? I'm here."
"Where are you, really?"
She swallowed, dropping her eyes again and shrugging. "Honestly, I have no idea."
He set the washcloth down and scanned her expression. She seemed to be telling the truth. She was confused. Lost. Scared? "What's the matter, Lisbon?"
She bit her lip and brought a hand to her face, sighing in exasperation. "I don't know, Jane," she whimpered in a very un-Lisbon-like tone of voice. "I don't know anything anymore." She removed her hand slowly and looked him directly in the eyes. "I wasn't going to tell you," she whispered. "But right now, I don't think I have a choice."
"I don't understand," he confessed.
"I have been thinking about something lately," she began slowly. "I've shared my thoughts with Grace, who seems to disagree with me. I wasn't going to tell you, but I think you have the right to know." She leaned her head back against the mirror and shut her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again and straightened up. "Jane, I don't think that I did it."
"Did what?"
"I don't think that I jumped."
He flinched, taking a step back. "What are you talking about?"
"I think someone did it to me," she said.
"Who would do that to you, Lisbon?"
She dropped her head into her hands. He reached out and wrapped his hands around her wrists, gently removing them from her face. "Please look at me. I'm trying to understand. You think that someone attempted to murder you?"
Lisbon didn't say anything.
He sucked in a deep breath. "Who would do that?" he asked again.
"I don't know! Obviously someone who wanted me dead."
"No one would ever want you dead."
She huffed, hopping down from the counter. "Just because you don't know everything about me doesn't mean I don't have enemies of my own. You aren't the only one chasing demons." She turned and stormed out of the bathroom.
He was right behind her. "Enlighten me. Who would want to kill you, Lisbon? And in such a dramatic way?"
She didn't answer.
Jane reached into his pocket and clutched her suicide note in his hand. He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around, placing the note in her hand. "Is that your handwriting?"
He watched her hesitate before she unfolded the note. He watched her eyes scan it. He watched her reaction. A thousand emotions ran wild through her green eyes. She pressed her lips together, glancing up to Jane shamefully.
"What?" he asked cautiously.
She handed it back to him. "I wrote it."
He looked down. "I know."
Her eyes misted over and she turned away, refusing to let him see her cry. "You know what; I think I am going to take a rain check on movie night."
He nodded. "I understand."
She started for her bedroom door, stopped, and turned around again. "That doesn't mean anything."
"What?"
"That it's in my handwriting," she offered, wiping at her eyes. "Someone could have forged it."
Jane was quiet. He didn't know what to do. What he could do. He wanted so badly to believe Lisbon hadn't wanted her life to end, but he hated the idea of someone trying to kill her. "How do we figure this out?" he finally asked her. "Tell me how to help, and I will."
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She turned and smacked the wall in frustration. "Agh!" she screamed. She backed up against the wall and slid to the ground. "Why did this have to happen to me? Why can't I remember anything?"
Jane sat down next to her and leaned against the wall. "You really believe that someone else did it to you?"
"Yes," she said automatically, turning to look at him. "What I don't understand is how that couldn't have crossed your mind."
"Oh, it did," he told her. "I went through every possible scenario. After a while, I became too busy being terrified that you weren't going to wake up." He paused, sucking in a breath. "Then you did, and I was still too busy worrying about you." He looked over to her face. She was already watching him, lips set in a hard line. Jane touched her arm. "If somebody did this to you," he whispered. "We'll find who did it."
She swallowed. "Really?"
"Yes," he promised. "I swear."
She looked to the ground, shutting her eyes. "God, I wish I could remember."
Jane hesitated before sliding his hand down to hers. "Me too."
X
The first thing she thought when her eyes opened was, "What the hell am I doing in this meadow again?"
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She stretched her arm out and examined her hand and fingertips. She glanced down at her clothes, crinkling her eyebrows. This time, she wasn't wearing her clothes from high school. She was dressed in her everyday work clothes, the clothes she wore to the CBI. T-shirt, belt, jeans, jacket. And her Lisbon Loafers.
She stood up and brushed herself off. She waited, listening, until she could hear the sound of the stream. As she began her journey toward it, she heard someone call out her name.
She started running, sprinting, as fast as her body would let her. She halted at the edge of the river, scanning the other side. She knew what happened next.
"Lisbon?"
Jane was in the water, struggling against the current as it sucked him downstream. His blond curls were matted down and he had a crazy look in his eyes. "Lisbon!"
"Jane!" she shrieked, stepping toward the bed of the river and preparing to launch herself into the water.
"No!" he cried. "Don't!"
It was too late. She had already jumped. She hit the water, letting out a small cry underwater as the temperature disagreed with her body heat. She surfaced, gasping for air and coughing. She looked around herself, fighting the current. "Jane, where are you?" she shouted.
"Lisbon!"
She whipped around, kicking against the strong current. Jane was fine. He was on shore, running along the side of the river and shouting her name, motioning for her to come to the riverbed. "Come on, hurry!" he yelled. "Hurry up, or it will be too late!"
"What are you-"
She didn't finish. The current pulled her under, and she was drowning.
Someone shook her awake, saying her name over and over again. "Lisbon, it's okay. Lisbon, wake up. Lisbon!"
Her eyes opened in terror. Jane was standing over her, a hand on each of her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.
She swallowed but didn't answer.
"You were saying my name," he said. "I think you were having a bad dream."
Lisbon nodded, sitting up. "I didn't do it," she whispered.
Jane released her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she replied confidently. "I'm positive. I couldn't have done something like this. I could never do it." She looked down at her intertwined hands. "Don't ask me who would want me dead because I'm not sure. All I know is I didn't do it." Her eyes flicked to his again. "I truly don't believe I could have done it."
It was silent for a long while. Jane stared at the wall, avoiding Lisbon's eyes. She began to panic. Did he not believe her? Did he not want to believe her? Why wouldn't he believe her? Did he honestly believe she would want to do something like this?
After the torturous silence, he finally said, "I believe you." He looked into her eyes again. They looked so sincere that it made Lisbon choke up a little. "We're going to find who did this to you."
She leaned her head back against the wall and relaxed her shoulders, offering a very small smile. "Thank you," she whispered.
A/N: Next chapter, they get to work! Is Lisbon right? Did someone really do it to her? Or did she do it to herself? Review, and let me know what you think!