From One-shot,. the story has been promoted to multi-chapter, although I'm not quite sure how many more you'll have; Many of you asked for a sequel, and so, I thought about giving a bit more of space to Annie and the marvelous Jisbon romace we're still waiting to see in "reality"...As always, thanks to everyone who, with reviews, or putting me and the story on alert or on fav, gave me resons to go on with this story- and soprry for the delay, but work was too much to handle, tand i had few problems at home as well. 8actually, I just come back from the hospital, where I spoent the night watching over my granpa, and I'm kind of working on sleep privation..)
Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)
It wasn't happening; one of the best days of his life wasn't turning into his new personal hell. No, no way, it wasn't right, it wasn't supposed to go this way. He wasn't supposed to seat outside surgery waiting for Abby to tell him if Teresa and the twins were going make it. He could see the fear on Mick and Tommy, and Robert's rage. The former marine seemed close to hit someone (he had already hit his something, a wall, several times). Grace and Claire were at Mick's, with the children; when they had to bring Lucas away, he was still crying for his mummy and his daddy, and Annie and Tony were both in shock; the poor girl was so pale and scared, but she hadn't cried. Rigsby and Cho, instead, had taken upon themselves a special task…
"We suggested him to leave Sacramento in the next 24 hours and to not bother you again. He was after your money, seems he hoped you could decided to come back to your old fake psych days" Even if his voice was the same, Jane knew Cho, and knew that, like Wayne and Grace, they saw Teresa not like just a boss, but a member of the family as well. As Rigsby sat at his side and put an arm around his shoulders, Patrick did something he hadn't done in a long time. He cried, out of desperation, out of fear, like a broken child; he didn't give a damn about anything, he knew even that Teresa was a strong believer, but he didn't care. If God existed, if God really existed, he didn't have to take her away from him. Was he that bad as a person that he deserved to lose two families? What about Lucas? He was only a child, he needed his mum, and her friends, all the people she could still help… he didn't care if Heaven needed another Angel. They all needed her there, still.
After hours, finally, Abby and her husband, a surgeon called Luka, approached them, and the only thing Patrick could see was the blood on their clothes… there was so much blood, and Teresa was so petite…
"Mr. Jane, I'm Dr. Luka Kovatch. I wanted to inform you – he said with a hint of a smile - that your wife is sleeping in her room. The twins…"
"Juliet and Patrick are fine, but we preferred to put them in an incubator for a couple of days – squeezing his shoulder gently, Abby faced Patrick, trying to reassure him – c section at this stage of a twin pregnancies are rather usual, Patrick. It's not abnormal; we just wanted to make sure they'll be all right."
"Mr. Jane, bleeding is normal, you knew it, right? It just always look worst than what it really is."
"C'mon Patrick, you'll even be able to have that forth child you two talked about so much – she kept smiling at him – maybe your little outburst scared her enough to detonate the birthing, but it wasn't you. If not in church, her water was going to break maybe in the evening"
"May I..." he asked tentatively, without daring nor to end the sentence, nor to look at Abby's face; the woman decided to answer him with an action, and, took him for his shoulders, he guided Patrick inside the nursery, where, inside the incubators, lied two small, perfect, healthy and extremely active and crying newborns twins. As he cried out of relief, he finally registered the information the doctor gave him earlier: Patrick and Juliet, soon to be known as PJ and Jules, a blonde boy with blue eyes and a raven-haired girl with green eyes, his daughter and his son were in front of him, alive and well, busy crying.
"Thanks – he whispered, without breaking eye contact with them, skimming over the glass surface that was hiding them from the world – for remembering how we had decided to call them, I mean."
"Believe me, forgetting you and Teresa it's impossible – she said smiling, looking at the twins like she had done with her child few years prior, captivated, every time, by the sight of new life coming into the world - Teresa's resting in a private room . I could ask the staff to arrange a bed for you, if you want to spend the night at her side."
He wanted, and he did; he spent the night at her side, awake, holding her hand, checking that she was with them for real, that he hadn't lost her as well. Come morning, he smiled a bit, that kind of smile that was mixed with tears of relief, and, given her a quick kiss on the forehead, he thanked Lily and her mum, and Teresa's mother, Susan, for having look after her.
"You didn't shave- she whispered, feeling already the two days beard, something she wasn't used to, on her skin. Patrick smiled, holding her hand stronger, kissing her fingers like he had done so many times in the past; her other hand went immediately to her abdomen, and Teresa panicked as she felt the lack of something – the twins… Patrick… I…"
He sat at her side, on the bed, and took her in his arms, circling her shoulders with his arm and kissing her hair to reassure her "They are fine, Teresa. PJ and Jules are fine. They are keeping them inside the incubators for precaution, but Abby said it's just a matter of a couple days before they'll bring them here. – He paused, a bit, breathing deeply, at closed eyes – they had to perform a C section, though, but Abby said it's not unusual. She said we could even try for another baby, one day."
Teresa rested her head in his dress shirt, the same shirt he had wore for the wedding, their wedding, the one that didn't take place, and noticed how, even if mixed with hospital smell, he was still himself, that cologne she didn't recognize, that unique combination that was Patrick.
"You know, this thing helped me to realize what's really important; I've been childish and stupid with this idea of the big white wedding; our ceremony had been perfect, it had everything I could ask for… I don't want it any different…"
"If it's the religious wedding you want, Teresa, I'll give it to you. Maybe a little ceremony, on our anniversary, when we'll baptize the twins…" he whispered into her ear, as his heartbeat calmed her down, slowly allowing Teresa to fall asleep again.
"I've never asked you if you are happy with me…" he whispered, more to himself, and was a bit shocked when she actually answered him, a playful smile on her lips.
"I've always been happy with you, Patrick, and only being home with our children will make it even better." Smiling a smile of his own, he closed the gap between them, pressing a soft but quick kiss on her lips- the kind they've always shared and loved, that were screaming one word and one word only: love.
In that moment, Teresa realized something she had never really thought about since the day they met; it wasn't only that Patrick had changed her life; it was HOW he had actually changed it. He had brought out her playful side, he had made her a bit more reckless, less straight, more open and willing to share, and, mostly, he had brought fun (because, even if he was always in some kind of trouble, he was, indeed, a funny man- that was one of the reasons he was simply great with children) and the need of a sense of family she had lost the day her mother died. In a certain sense, Patrick Jane, her husband, was her drug, her favorite brand of heroin. She was addicted to the man, always been, really, but getting together had made things, in a certain sense, worse. She couldn't picture her life without him, couldn't understand how she could have lived so long without him being her man, without kissing him, touching him, making love to him, cooking together, sharing everything with him, without cuddling at his side, being the mother of his children. Yes, she was addicted to Patrick Jane.
And that was an addiction she had no intention of getting rid of.
o, so sorry to tell you this, but I'0ve finally found a way to end this story, and so.. next chapter will be the epilogue- and this time the real one!
