Disclaimers, etc. in Chapter 1.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews! I will try to respond individually as soon as I can-at the moment, I am still in frantic writing mode. Hope a new chapter is a reasonable compensation in the meantime.

xxx

Cho's surgery lasted fourteen hours. When it was over, he was moved into a private room in the ICU.

When the doctor came to tell them the surgery had gone as well as could be expected, Rigsby released a loud sigh of relief and Grace hugged him. Lisbon murmured a short prayer of thanks that Jane was certain was audible only to him. Jane closed his eyes, well aware that though they had cleared the first hurdle, the danger was far from over.

The doctor advised them that it would likely be several more hours at the least before Cho was likely to wake, and Lisbon sent Rigsby and Van Pelt home with orders to get some rest. They protested, but she overrode their feeble objections without much effort. They were all exhausted, and as Lisbon pointed out, at least some of them should get some rest. She, however, stayed.

Jane stayed with her.

She took the visitor chair next to the bed in Cho's new room and collapsed into it, staring at Cho's unconscious form with a lost expression on her face.

Jane tried to think of something reassuring to say, but he was unable to come up with any words that weren't hollow platitudes, so he left in search of more tangible comforts. He went to the hospital cafeteria and managed to acquire a couple of almost edible looking sandwiches, a cup of coffee for Lisbon, and a cup of the vilest tea he'd ever encountered for himself.

When he returned, Lisbon was praying. He sat down in the chair behind her and listened. Despite his firm lack of religious beliefs, he found he liked the sound of Lisbon praying. Her voice was soft and though he knew from experience that she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, her words had an almost musical lilt to them as she prayed for Cho's strength and safety.

He'd never realized how poetic prayer could be, before this.

When she finished, she sat back in the chair and accepted the coffee that Jane had brought her. "Thanks, Jane," she said tiredly.

He watched her. Her face was pale and drawn. "You should get some rest."

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She looked over at him. "You don't have to stay, though."

He smiled wryly. "I think it's a safe assumption that I wouldn't be able to sleep right now, anyway."

She nodded, and turned back to Cho.

Cho didn't wake up for two days. Lisbon stayed with him. Jane left on occasion, mainly to get food so he could make sure Lisbon ate something. Once, even he was defeated by exhaustion and left to get a few hours of sleep. When he returned, he found Lisbon fast asleep in her chair, her body pitched forward and her head resting on Cho's bed. She was gripping his hand with her own in her sleep.

Jane watched her, and he realized with a pang that he was rather jealous.

It was ridiculous, he knew. A clear indication of his own narcissism if ever there was one. It was just—he supposed he'd thought that if Lisbon was ever going to stage a marathon bedside vigil for someone… well, that it would be for him. He was the one always getting into scrapes, after all. The one who'd sworn to give his life to capture Red John. The one who always needed rescuing. Not calm, steady Cho.

It would have been better that way, he reflected. He should have been the one to take that bullet. Then Cho would have been spared and he would have reaped his just reward for not listening to Lisbon in the first place. Plus, Lisbon would have had to forgive him if he'd been shot. As it was, he had no illusions about what she must think of him now that he'd gotten one of her team members shot. Her worry over Cho had granted him a temporary reprieve, but he was certain there would be hell to pay once Lisbon could be reasonably assured that Cho would be all right.

Yes, all in all, he'd have preferred to suffer the physical pain of being shot to the possibility of Lisbon determining that he'd crossed one line too many and deciding to shut him out for good.

Not long after that, to Jane's immense relief, Cho woke up.

Jane saw him squeeze Lisbon's hand, and when she raised her head to look at him blearily, he was looking right back at her.

"Hey," Cho said.

"Hey," she said softly, her face splitting into a wide smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot." He took note of the crease on her cheek from the wrinkled sheet she'd been resting her head on. "You been here long?"

She wrinkled her nose and smiled in that way she did when she was trying to make light of something. "Nah."

"You're a terrible liar," Cho remarked. "How long have I been out?"

"Two days," Jane told him.

"Think that's enough beauty rest for you, Kimball?" Lisbon teased him gently. "Because let me tell you, I've had about enough of you sleeping on the job."

His lips twitched ever so slightly. "I'll try not to let it happen again."

"You'd better not. I'm going to dock your pay for worrying me like that."

"Thanks for staying."

"Please. I just wanted to make sure you didn't get any funny ideas like kicking the bucket on me," Lisbon said, giving him a slightly watery smile. "You know how much paperwork I would have had to fill out if you'd died?"

The exchange continued on in this vein, and once again, Jane felt rather jealous. It was petty of him, he knew. He should be focused on how grateful he was that Cho was alive. And he was. Truly. But he'd always been a selfish bastard, and he figured it was too late to expect himself to change now. So he was mildly disgusted with himself, but not particularly surprised, to find himself distracted from his relief by watching Lisbon smile at her second-in-command.

He knew there wasn't anything romantic between Cho and Lisbon—about ninety nine point nine percent sure, anyway—but they had a straightforward camaraderie that he envied. Like-minded, they understood each other instinctively-they were twin souls. That gave them an easy intimacy that Jane and Lisbon had never quite managed to achieve. The two of them had world-views so diametrically opposed to one another that much of the time it was as though they were from different planets. They made each other crazy, each finding the other puzzling and frustrating. And fascinating, he supposed. That was the other side of the coin. But though they had their own brand of intimacy, no one could ever say it was easy.

Lisbon called Van Pelt and Rigsby and was waiting for them outside Cho's room when they arrived.

Grace broke out into a brilliant smile when she saw her. "He's awake?" she said eagerly.

"Yes, the doctor's with him now," Lisbon told her.

"And he's going to be okay?" Rigsby asked anxiously.

Lisbon smiled at him. "He's going to be fine."

"Thank God," Rigsby sighed.

The doctor came out then and told them they could go in to see the patient.

Rigsby went straight in, but Grace hesitated on the threshold, taking Lisbon's hand. "Boss…"

Lisbon squeezed her hand back. "I know. Go on, now."

Grace shot her a grateful look and then she followed Rigsby inside.

Lisbon let her smile fade once the other two were safely inside. The mask fell and she leaned against the wall, looking weary.

"He's going to be okay," Jane reminded her. "They all will be."

"This time," she said darkly. "We were lucky."

He watched her. "You know, I really don't think you're going to be able to avoid saying it this time."

She looked at him blankly. "Saying what?"

"'I told you so.'"

Something in her face changed. She looked grim. "I'm not going to say it, Jane."

"You blame me for Cho getting hurt, as well you should. I admit it, I was wrong. You should let me have it. I deserve it. I'm sorry. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I hope you can believe that."

"I don't blame you," she said woodenly. "I blame myself."

"How can you blame yourself?" he asked incredulously. "It was entirely my fault!"

She sighed. "You were right, Jane. I always go along with you in the end. The team knows that. They were just following my bad example."

"You told me not to go," he insisted. "You told me not to involve the team. You said it yourself, right before it happened. You said you were going to blame me when things went wrong, and you were right."

"Jane, do you have to be so damn literal? It was just… something I said. I didn't mean it."

"You can't possibly blame yourself for this," Jane said stubbornly. "The idea is ludicrous."

She shook her head. "If a toddler wanders into traffic and causes a six car pile up, do you blame the kid? Or do you blame the adult responsible for him for not watching him closely enough?"

"This is what you think of me?" he said bitterly. "That I'm no better than an unruly child and that you're nothing more to me than a glorified babysitter?"

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "It was the closest analogy I could think of."

"You can't blame yourself for this," Jane repeated.

She sighed. "Jane, I'm the team leader. I'm the one who is ultimately responsible for ensuring the safety of my team and managing how investigations are carried out. When someone on my team gets hurt, I'm the one that failed."

Jane stared at her, at a loss for words.

She straightened up and looked at her watch. "I'm going to go home and get cleaned up."

"Good," Jane said, sidetracked. "You should get some rest."

She shook her head. "I've got to go into the office for a couple of hours."

She left.

Still reeling from the revelation that Lisbon blamed herself for his reckless mistake, Jane could do nothing but watch her retreating figure make its way down the hall with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

This was far worse than he'd feared.