Summery: A confrontation of sorts that leads to confessions of sorts.
Prompt: Post-ep tag for 2.05 (Red Scare) where Lisbon notices that something upsets Jane after he spoke to the widow and she asks him again when they're alone, leading to Jane confiding in her.
That widow said something to Jane. He thinks he can lie to me, but I know. I knew what it was that she said: I heard her talking to Jane. I know, I was supposed to be helping Cho carry the pizza, but I was coming to grab plates out of the kitchen when I heard their voices.
Growing up, I always held firm to the belief that my mother knew that we missed her, that we wanted her to still be there, and that I was upset that my last words to her had been in anger. I always believed that she knew how very truly sorry I was that the things hadn't ended differently.
Hearing Jane tell that widow that he didn't think that his wife and child believed that he was sorry…unless I miss understood and what he was saying was that he didn't want things to have been different, but I knew that wasn't the case. Jane loved his wife and child almost more than anything. The amount of guilt and remorse that he carried over their deaths and his role in them was almost more than he can bear sometimes, even I can tell that.
I waited until the rest of the team left before talking to him. It had been a difficult case, fuelled with lies and deceit and memories that should have staid berried for all those involved. I knew from experience that Jane wouldn't be sleeping when I walked into the bull pen, even though his eyes were closed.
I debated for a few seconds on the best way to approach him, and in the end settled on just sitting beside his prone form on the couch.
"Jane, I know you're not sleeping." I said by way of beginning. "I know that you're not sleeping, because I overheard the conversation that you had in the kitchen before." I paused, not knowing if he was going to respond. When he didn't I continued. "Jane, I know you think that you're the only one who's ever gone through a tragic lose. But it's not true. I lost my mother as a young child…though you know that. The last words I ever spoke to her were that she was mean and not faire because she wasn't letting me come with her to the store. It was stupid, and I didn't mean it, but I'll always remember that my last words to my mother weren't ones of love."
I paused again, looking down at him. Someone who didn't know him like I did wouldn't t5hink he had moved at all, but I could tell. There was an ever so slight tightening of his jaw, a slight stiffness in his arms that hadn't been there when I had begun to speak.
"Jane, knowing that my mother is somewhere looking down on me, that she knows how truly sorry I am that my last words to her were spoken in anger. That she knows how much I would go back and change things if I could." I paused again, wondering if he was even listening to what I was really saying. "I know it's not quite the same Jane, but you have to know that your wife and daughter don't blame you, that they know how sorry you are about what happened."
I looked at him again, his posture still slightly tense, and sighed. I waited for a few seconds for him to say something, anything, before getting up and walking back towards my office.
"Lisbon." I stopped when I heard his voice and turned around. He was sitting up on his couch, turned towards me. "I know."
That's all he said before he laid back down. "Jane…"
"It's still just hard. Hard to know that if I had been there…and I know that if it was me, I'd still carry a grudge, I'd be upset, and I don't know if my wife would ever be able to forgive me."
I wanted to go back to him, wanted to comfort him, but I knew he wouldn't let me. That's just the way it was. We both suffered in silence…one day, maybe that would change. But for now, we would just be alone together.