Jenkins raised his eyebrows in a look of astonishment, shrugged and started. His patient didn't even flinch once during the whole process. He was impressed at the level of mental control he witnessed. He worked as fast and precisely as possible and wrapped the arm in gauze bandages afterwards. When he finished, Jane opened his eyes. "Got some pain medication for me, Doc? This is going to hurt like hell the second I'm not channeling the pain anymore. And unfortunately, I can't do that forever," he explained.
The doctor hurried to get a strong pain killer for his patient with a glass of water and Jane swallowed the offered pill greedily.
"You are a remarkable man, Mr. Jane," Jenkins said with some awe. "I've heard and read about the possibility of this but I've never seen it executed so flawlessly. How do you do it?"
Patrick, glad for the distraction from the oncoming pain, started to explain. "I redirect the body's neurological pain transmitters away from the brain, where the actual sensation of pain is created, and channel it out of my body through one of my extremities. In this case, I used Agent Lisbon's hand holding mine as a focal point. Physical contact usually helps me to focus on the exit area. Alas, this is a rather mentally exhausting technique when you practice it on yourself, so no long-term solution. And for the record," his face was contorted with pain by now, "this stings something fiercely."
"I'm sorry. The painkiller is fast acting, so you should feel better soon. And I'm really impressed. Say, have you ever considered working in palliative care? If I understand you correctly, you can actually help others channel pain even better?" the doctor inquired.
Patrick sighed with relief, his features smoothed. "Ah, the wonders of modern pharmacy. That was really fast. Thanks, Doc," he said. "And to answer your question. I've done that a few times during cases we've worked on. At one instance for example it turned out that one of the doctors in a clinic cheated with the patients' pain medications so she could satisfy her own addiction with the conserved morphine. She did so mostly with patients freshly out of surgery, so they were in a lot of unnecessary pain. Some of them even screaming. I managed to help a few. But it's rather difficult when the pain has already reached a certain level." He had a far away look on his face remembering the situation. "And to be honest: I do like helping people, I really do. But I'm not sure I could do something like this on a regular basis. I'm not cut out for it, I'm afraid."
Jenkins squeezed Jane's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "There's no shame in that, Mr. Jane. It's actually a good thing to recognize one's limits. A lot of people in medical care exploit themselves because they sympathize too much with their patients. I've seen quite a few doctors and nurses burn out like that. But it's still a neat ability you have there." Giving his patient's shoulder a light pat, he stepped back and continued. "You're ready to go now. Why don't we just cut off the sleeve of you shirt, so you can actually wear it again? It'll be a bit chilly with just your jacket otherwise. Or are you still adamant, you want to save it?"
Patrick wore a slightly sheepish expression when he answered. "Sorry I caused such a scene. I guess I was a bit out of it. Cut away, Doc."
Just then, a knock on the door of the ambulance was audible. The muffled voice of one of the officers could be heard. "Will it take much longer? We need a statement from Mr. Jane and we can't wait forever."
Jenkins shouted back. "My patient is in no condition to make any statement tonight. I advise you to talk to him tomorrow. What he needs now is to go home and rest."
Lisbon who'd just stood and watched the whole time during her lover's treatment offering silent support and holding his hand, decided to take action now. She searched for his eyes and when their gazes met she asked. "Patrick, will you be alright for a moment? I need to speak to the SacPD officers. Clear things up with them. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Jane nodded. "No problem, my dear. I'll be fine. But I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to talk to those officers today. I know they always want the facts as fresh as possible, but I assure you I'll remember all the details just as vividly tomorrow."
She pecked his lips and said, "I don't doubt that for a second, Patrick. But they," she made a motion with her head in the direction of the door, "don't know about your extraordinary memory. I'll try to convince them though. You've been through a lot, and Doctor Jenkins as your physician has already made it clear where he stands on the subject. I'm sure I can work something out with Officers Keen and Burton."
She left the ambulance and went to speak with the local cops.
"My consultant won't be able to make his statement today. Sorry, Officers, but he's in a lot of pain and was given some heavy painkillers. It would be irresponsible to put him through a questioning in his state. I hope you understand," she explained.
"Can't say I'm too happy about this, Agent. We both know that it's important to recount such events with the facts as fresh in mind as possible," Burton said.
Lisbon cast him an annoyed look. "Yes, of course. But as I just explained, he is under the influence of drugs right now. That's hardly the ideal condition to recall exact facts. Furthermore, my consultant has extraordinary mental abilities. His memory is astonishing. That's one of the reasons we keep him around. He'll be able to recollect the events in detail tomorrow, I assure you."
"Very well, Agent Lisbon. We can send someone over to the CBI to question him tomorrow. That might be more convenient for your colleague, considering he was injured," Keen offered.
"That's a very nice offer, Officer. I appreciate it and I'm sure Mr. Jane will as well. I'm sorry we kept you waiting but there were some medical details that needed my attention," Teresa said.
"No problem. We took the statement from Mr. Timmons here in the meantime. Unsurprisingly, he confirmed your recollections of the events this afternoon. I don't think we'll need to interview the other witnesses, but we've got all the names and numbers we need. Have a nice evening, Agent. And give our best wishes to your partner," Officer Burton concluded politely.
Both cops walked off. It was just now Lisbon realized that Andy was still present, albeit slightly hidden in the shadows. He stepped forward. "How's Rick? The truth, please, Teresa."
"He's okay, Andy. He has a nasty slash but the doctor managed to fix it without stitches. Patrick was a bit out of it and wasn't cooperating at first. But he's back to his old, annoying self now. He should be out any minute," she explained with a warm smile.
As if on cue, Jane opened the door of the ambulance and stepped outside. He wore his shirt and jacket, but kept his right, bare but bandaged arm cradled to his chest. "Oh, hi Andy. What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise. "Shouldn't you be eating dinner with your folks?"
"Rick! Good to see you up and about, bro." The large man came over and examined his friend critically. "You know how it is. News travels fast at a carnival. I heard about what happened and wanted to make sure you're not severely injured. I'm really sorry, man. I didn't expect him to stoop so low. He'll get his due now."
"I would rather not talk about this now, Andy. Sorry I kept you from your family. I know you don't see them very often," Patrick said.
"Oh shut up, Rick. You're family too, and my parents insisted I should go and find out what happened to you. I'm glad you're doing alright. We'll talk later. I'll call you tomorrow, okay mate?" he inquired.
"Sure. Give my regards to your parents. Thanks for your concern. I'm fine, but I'd really like to go home now," Jane answered tiredly.
His friend nodded and wished them goodbye. Just before he left, he held out the plush elephant to Lisbon. "Ah, I nearly forgot: you left that at my parents'."
Teresa took the toy and thanked him. Afterwards she went over to her lover, put her arm around his waist, and steered him in the direction of the car. "Guess, I'll be the driver after all. But debts of bets are debts of honor. You have a rain check for a drive some other time, love," she said tenderly.
She opened the car door and helped him in before she got into the driver's seat and started her SUV. Patrick fell into an exhausted sleep mere minutes later and Teresa drove them home in deep contemplation.
She was very troubled by what had happened, especially because she couldn't even envisage what a barrage of ramifications the events would entail. This would most probably go to court, and she wasn't sure Patrick was up to the consequences. Would he be able to face his father in a lawsuit? Testify against him? Would other questions about his relationship with Alex come up in the process? That was very likely. How would that affect Patrick? Was he ready to confront his childhood traumas in a semi-public setting? She had her doubts. It had been only two days since he'd started to open up about it, and that had been forced as well.
She cast a worried sideways glance at her sleeping lover. This was turning into a complete disaster. Maybe she could use her influence and call in some favors at the DA's office and try to cut Jane senior a deal? Would the bastard even accept a deal, or would he prefer to humiliate his son in public? She was afraid, that the last option was the more likely scenario. She decided, she had to talk this through with someone, but in this case, unfortunately, that someone couldn't be her best friend.
Should she talk with Andy? It was an option, but the man didn't know the least bit about law enforcement and juridical procedures. She opted to think this through more carefully before acting. Her first priority was to get Patrick home, preferably into bed and comfortable as fast as possible. How much more stress could the man take before he lost it? The last days had been a a great strain already. It was obvious that during the last 48 hours his control had worn thin several times. He'd probably cried more in the space of mere days than he'd done since his early childhood. With everything that had happened his armor had received multiple cracks.
Given a little time she was sure he'd be able to re-fortify his control. He was a very strong individual after all. But at the moment, the blows were coming a bit too frequently for her taste. Everybody had a breaking point. And how vulnerable he felt right now had become glaringly obvious to her in that ambulance, when his deep seated fear of being compulsorily hospitalized had surfaced. She would do everything in her power to prevent this from happening. Fortunately, she was now in a good position to actually help and comfort him. Should he reach his limits, he wouldn't be alone this time around.
She woke him gently when they'd arrived at her apartment complex. He got out of the car wordlessly and went ahead to her entrance door. Fumbling clumsily, he tried to find his keys in the pocket of his suit jacket, but she'd caught up with him at that point and said, "Here, let me, love."
Still not uttering a word, he went inside, up the stairs, and disappeared in her bedroom.
She sighed but decided to give him some space. She went to the kitchen to prepare a sandwich for herself. It was nearing ten pm and she was a little hungry. After she'd eaten, she made a cup of chamomile tea for Patrick. Beverage in hand, she made her way upstairs to check in on him. He was lying on the bed, still fully clothed, sans shoes. At first glance he appeared to be asleep, but he opened his eyes when she approached.
"How are you doing, Patrick?" she asked carefully.
"I'm fine," was his rather unconvincing reply. "Thanks for the tea."
He propped himself up a bit, an action that seemed to cause him quite some pain judging from his expression, but he didn't complain. Teresa took that as a bad sign. Normally, he was prone to whine about even the slightest pain and milk the situation for all it was worth. Obviously, this didn't hold true when he was really injured and hurting. How very typical, she thought.
She handed him the cup and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. "Do you want me to help you with your clothes? I guess it's a bit difficult to undress with one arm out of commission," she inquired.
"Nah. Yes. Maybe. The buttons are a bit of a challenge. But it's alright. I'll manage somehow," he replied in a rather non-committal way.
She chuckled. "Come on, imp. No need to strain yourself. I'm perfectly willing to undress you. I'd prefer it to be under different circumstances, but I'll take what I can get."
She leaned closer and started to unbutton his shirt without waiting for further response. She was happy to spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.
She stroked his newly exposed chest gently, comforting him. "How are you really doing, Patrick? We don't need to talk about what happened, but I'd like to know how you are doing. You know you're not alone anymore, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. And I appreciate your concern, Teresa, but I honestly don't know what to answer. Right now, I feel kind of numb. It got to be a bit much earlier, so I have just blocked my emotions for the time being. I need some time to work through this. I'll deal with it, love. Don't worry. I've got it under control," he answered calmly.
She shook her head in honest astonishment. "You can just block your emotions? I'm not sure it sounds very healthy, but I'm impressed. I think I'm only slowly realizing just how distinct your mental abilities really are. I already knew part of it, but I have to admit I underestimated your control. Take that display in the ambulance for instance. That was absolutely amazing, Patrick."
"Oh, it's just a matter of training, Teresa. Anyone could do it. Pain exists only in our minds after all. Thank you for the compliment anyway."
He sat down the empty cup and motioned for Lisbon to help him out of the shirt and his pants. He redressed in his usual sleeping attire consisting of shorts and a t-shirt and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Teresa decided to stay and wait for his return and make sure he was comfortable. When he was safely in bed, all tucked in, she left to start her own evening routine.
Fifteen minutes later she came back in. His breathing had evened out and she was pretty sure, he was asleep. She put his pain medications and a glass of water on his nightstand so they were in easy reach for him.
Her gaze landed on the golden ring resting there. She couldn't resist to take and inspect the symbol of her lover's deep loyalty and commitment. There was an inscription on the inside of it. Before she could take a closer look, Patrick mumbled from the bed. "With love. Forever, Angela."
She winced violently.
"Sorry, my dear. I didn't mean to startle you like that," he croaked with a tired voice. "It's just rather dark in here. You would've had a hard time deciphering it."
"Geez! You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought, you were sleeping," she scolded him "I hope it was alright for me to look at it," she added carefully.
"Yes, no problem. No need to sneak a peek. You could've just asked, you know," he teased. "Come to bed, now, please. I'm really tired."
She returned the ring to its spot on the nightstand and bent down to press a gentle kiss to Patrick's cheek. "Good night, Patrick. Sleep well. I love you," she whispered in his ear before moving away.
"Love you too, Teresa," he mumbled drowsily.
She walked around the bed to her side and got under the comforter. Despite her mind being full of worry and unanswered questions, she fell asleep only minutes later.
TBC
And thus ends their first Sunday as a couple...
How will their first day back at work turn out? You'll just have to wait and see... or you could send me your guesses and I'll tell you whether you're right or wrong.
This Saturday I was at a symposium on brain research and I was very impressed with the latest insights into the workings of the mind. And I must compliment the makers of 'The Mentalist' on their accuracy when it comes to describing Jane's abilities.
By the way, you should ALL be proud of your brains, folks. The mind really IS a powerful tool and we're all incredibly complex beings. Never forget that.
