Authors Note: This was my secret Santa gift for Tromana over at the jello forever forum. Not sure it fit the prompt "I don't want you but I don't want anyone else to have you either", but it's what came out when I sat down to write. Ok, so not quite. I've got another one that really fit, but it just...it didn't come. I'm two chapters into that and have no where to go because I just can't feel it. one day...Anyway, so this was also in part inspired by the songs "Being Drunk's a lot Like Loving You" by Kenny Chesney and "Who am I" by Smile Empty Soul. This is a dark fic, and I mean really dark. Not the darkest I've ever done, but still pretty dark. As such, I needed mood music :) to get in the mood. SO the sound track to this fic was provided by Cellofourte for the most part and also a bit of A Fine Frenzy and Amy MacDonald. A special thanks to lgmtreader for the beta and dealing with all my hemming and hawing over this. Some of this is her fault.
Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure when you read this you will know I don't own them, but to be on the safe said, I don't :)
Red Demons
The case had been hard on all of them. Cases with children always were, but Lisbon and Jane had taken it harder than the rest. Jane because he saw his daughter in the lifeless body of the six year old little girl that was found trashed by the side of the road, and Lisbon because it brought up memories of her childhood and her father who didn't know how to handle his grief.
They found themselves the last two left in this godforsaken town. The rest of the team had left early that afternoon when the murderer had been caught – the poor little girls own father – and it was clear that the local PD could handle the rest of the case. Lisbon and Jane had stayed around to make sure all the paperwork was complete; or rather Lisbon had, and Jane had just stuck around because he'd rather spend time with her than in a car with Abbott and Costello.
Jane and Lisbon ate dinner in silence at the same diner that they'd been eating at all week. The wait staff knew to ask minimal questions and basically to just leave them alone and the blond man would give them a huge tip; so they were able to just sit in the corner booth and think about the case, wallowing in the pain of remembering.
"My dad wasn't always violent," Lisbon said out of the blue, startling Jane from his memories of golden curls dripping with blood.
"No, I imagine he wouldn't have been," Jane said, in an attempt to bring himself into the conversation and away from his memories.
"He didn't start out violent when my mom died, he was just sad. It started slowly, the yelling and screaming; then he'd break furniture… it was me that he started hitting first, but my brothers, they always tried to protect me. There was one time, right before he died, that he got really drunk. I'd been out late at a friend's house, and when I came home he was in a rage, furious that I hadn't been there when he got home from work. He started going at me with his belt and then throwing glasses and books. My baby brother Jack…" she paused slightly, taking a deep breath. She wasn't looking at anyone or anything just staring off into space. Jane wondered if she was really talking to him, or if she was just talking to talk.
"My baby brother Jack, he had fallen asleep on the porch waiting for me. He woke up when the first glass broke; he tried to get my dad to stop. I don't think he really knew what he was doing by trying to stop him but it made my dad worse. He started using his fists, throwing punches – he was pummeling Jack with his bare hands. I tried to peel him off of Jack, but he was bigger, stronger than me. I had to hit him over the head with a lamp to get him to stop. I managed to get us all loaded up in the car and drove off to the hospital. When my dad woke up in the emergency room he couldn't remember how he got there or that he had beat Jack so bad that he was still unconscious. It was almost 24 hours before Jack woke up. He wasn't ever the same after that. Permanent brain damage. And my dad couldn't remember doing it."
She stopped talking then, the pain in her voice clearly evident. He didn't know what to say; he was at a loss. She didn't usually open up to him like that and now it was still shocking to him how his Lisbon, his strong confidant woman could have been a scared teenager. Someone who was attacked and beaten by a man who was supposed to love her.
"That little girl in the case…" Jane started talking, not sure what had possessed him – whether it Lisbon's story or his own desire for self-disclosure, he didn't know. "She looked like my little girl. So much like her. From the curls to the blue eyes just like her mom's. I try to remember the good times, the happy times and the smiles, but at night when I close my eyes the only thing I see is Abby's lifeless little body covered in blood." He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes; feel the lump in his throat.
"We really are a sad pair, aren't we?" Lisbon turned to face him now, the first time in over 20 minutes. Her meatloaf sat untouched on her plate. She placed her hand over his where it rested between their plates on the table, her thumb gently stroking his. He shifted slightly closer, not sure if it was a conscious decision or not.
"Misery loves company." He signaled for the waitress. He turned his hand over, now holding hers; his turn to caress her hand with his. The slight shiver didn't escape his notice, and he wondered about it. They paid, her the bill, him the tip, and went back to the hotel, not really touching, but close enough to be mistaken for lovers if it came to it.
They stopped outside the hotel room, only one now that it was just the two of them. The CBI wouldn't spring for another night for just them; this was on Lisbon's dime. He worked the key card with the mastery of someone who spent too much time in hotels and they walked in together.
Now in the room Jane took the chance to look at her, really look for the first time that week. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying or holding back tears, and they had the sunken appearance that comes from not sleeping. He knew she was looking at him and seeing the same thing. He took a tentative step towards her, pulling her into his arms, cradling her, stroking her back.
It didn't take long for her to touch him back, bringing her arms up to his back, resting her head against his chest, pulling him close almost as if she was afraid he would disappear if she let him go. She felt him rest his head on top of hers and that was her undoing, she felt the tears she'd been holding back for the past week falling down her cheeks landing on his chest. He felt her begin to tremble as the tears began to fall, and it broke his heart; she shouldn't be feeling like this.
Not thinking, he pulled back slightly, bringing one hand up to tilt her chin up so that he could look at her. "Don't cry Lisbon, you're safe now, it's safe now." He knew the words were hollow, that they didn't hold the same meaning that he was trying to convey. Knew that she was feeling the same as him, like the world had let them down, and knew that he just wanted the comfort that touch could bring. Not asking, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers, soft and not demanding, giving her the chance to pull away.
She didn't. She met his kiss with a temperance he thought was only possible by her, moving her lips across his slowly, softly, not deepening it. He broke it off, looking at her with a question in his eyes. This time she leaned in and kissed him, not as gently as before; a little more hunger behind this kiss. She broke it off before either could intensify it, though Jane had wanted to. There was a flash of something else in her eyes now, behind the pain and the sadness, an emotion Jane never thought he'd see in Lisbon's face: lust.
They both leaned in for the kiss at the same time, neither breaking it off when the urge to deepen it came. She felt his tongue against her lips, urging her to open her mouth to him; and she did, darting her tongue out to meet his, letting them duel quickly before moving to taste him, licking him. She nipped at his lower lip, sucking on it slightly, he made a sound that wasn't quite a moan, but had the same feel behind it.
She started kissing along his jaw, nipping, tasting, scraping her teeth along his neck, sucking and nipping as she wanted. His hands were in her hair, his neck thrown back to give her better access. She worked the buttons on his vest and shirt, pushing them off his shoulders. No undershirt and her hands were on his chest, feeling the subtle but obvious muscles that spoke of a hidden strength and power.
She scraped her nails across his flat nipples; feeling him shudder beneath her as it grew taught; and then his hands were on her shoulders, his lips on her neck, kissing on the soft spot behind her ear. A gasp that was almost a roar in the silent room, and he was slowly kissing his way down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse, following his hands with his lips, walking her backwards towards the bed and pushing her down as he reached the last button and pulled the shirt off.
He looked at her then, as if memorizing the sight of her in her almost-too-fancy-for-work bra; she'd always had a soft spot for fine lingerie. Having to grow up so fast, working in a mans world, sometimes she just wanted to dress up, and on days when she knew she wasn't going to be taking in people she wore her nice things. This one in lavender with matching panties he hadn't even seen yet. He cupped her breasts through the lace; thumbs tweaking her nipples, watching them form peaks. He reached behind her, taking care to remove the garment slowly as if unwrapping a gift; a deep breath in when he finally slid it off her arms.
She didn't have time to thinks before his mouth is on one nipple, his hand teasing the other, working in sync to bring them to hard peaks. He moved his mouth from one to the other, sucking and licking, a soft bite that made her buck against him. Hands trailing down her sides to her flat belly and her hips, fingers working the button on her pants, the zipper, like a pro.
His mouth followed his hands, leaving a trail of wet kisses that shivered in the cool air; he slid her pants down, smiling slightly as he saw the matching lavender panties. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he slid them off of her, not noticing where they went. He knelt in front of her and bent to place a kiss right on top of her mound, barely touching. He brought one hand down and parted her folds, letting one finger trace along her center, testing to see if she was ready before his tongue followed the same path.
She pulled him up then, holding his face in one hand while the other worked at the button of his pants. Nimble fingers made quick work of them as the hand used to undo his pants snaked their way inside his boxers to feel his already impressive length. Grasping him with her hand, she began to stroke his length, rubbing her thumb across his tip, rewarded with a hiss and a quick intake of breath.
He rolled off of her, shedding his shoes and pants before he rolled back on top, looking her in the face and leaning in for an open mouthed kiss.
She sucked his tongue into her mouth then thrust her tongue into his mouth in a rhythm that he matched with his hips, getting closer and closer to her opening each time. He broke the kiss to look down in a silent question, a quick nod and with one thrust he was in her, pleasure radiating from within.
He set a lazy rhythm at first, not wanting to rush. She brought one leg up around his waist, pulling him in closer, matching him thrust for thrust until he was losing control. He reached between their bodies and placed his thumb on her sensitive nub, letting their movement and thrusts set the pressure and friction. Holding on, hanging on until he felt her tightening around him, until he could feel her coming, and then he let go, riding out her wave of passion with one of his own.
He collapsed next to her spent and breathing heavily. She recovered first and lay on her side, pulling the blanket out from beneath them to cover their prone forms. They needed to talk, but for now that was forgotten, now all that mattered was they were spent and that they would be able to sleep tonight, sleep and not worry about fathers who hit and daughters who died.