Warning: Things are getting a bit angsty...
Teresa was greeted at the door by a smiling man who seemingly bore his age well. "How can I help you, Miss?" he asked.
"I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon from the CBI." She showed him her badge. "May I come in? I have some information for you about your son Alexander. You are Jonathan Jane, aren't you?"
"Oh," the old man said, "Yes, I'm Jonathan Jane. Do come in, Agent." He motioned for her to follow him while continuing to speak, "but I haven't heard anything from my son in over forty years."
They'd reached the living room where a kind-looking woman sat in an armchair observing their approach with wakeful, inquiring eyes – eyes Lisbon knew all too well from the face of the man she loved. "You are here about Alexander?" Patrick's grandmother asked.
Teresa went over to her and extended her hand in greeting. "Yes ma'am."
The handshake was strong and warm.
"Why don't you take a seat, dear? I'm Elisa, by the way. Jonathan will make us some tea. Won't you, darling?" Her husband nodded and left for the kitchen. "I would do it myself, but I sprained my ankle last week. I overestimated my soccer skills I'm afraid, playing with my grandson." She chuckled.
The mischievous expression accompanying the explanation reminded Lisbon eerily of her consultant. She'd often read about certain family characteristics jumping over a generation and here, she seemed to have proof. Maybe Patrick hadn't inherited all of his looks from his mother. This woman looked a lot like him in fact, though her hair was straight and Lisbon assumed that it used to be dark before it had grayed with age.
"So what is it you want to tell us about our son?" she asked with a piercing look.
"Shouldn't we wait for your husband?" Lisbon suggested having taken a seat on the sofa and facing the old lady with a warm smile.
"Oh, he has excellent hearing. I'm sure he'll understand everything perfectly, won't you, darling?"
A voice from down the hall answered, "Yes yes. Just start, Agent. I'll be with you in a minute anyway."
"Alright. I'm afraid I've come with bad news. Your son Alexander was murdered last night. I'm truly sorry for your loss," Lisbon told them kindly.
Elisa Jane sighed but seemed to take in the news with countenance. "I can't say I'm too shocked. I didn't even know whether he was still alive or not as a matter of fact. And considering his, well, disposition, if you want, I'm actually surprised it didn't happen earlier. Can you tell us some details? Did he get mixed up in something serious?"
Jonathan returned with a tea service at that point. He sat it down on the coffee table and fixed a cup for each of them. Lisbon observed that he took great care to add the milk first and had to smile covertly. This was her consultant's family alright, she thought.
When they'd all settled down with their beverages, the Janes looked at her questioningly.
"Yes. Details. Well, this might all come as a shock and it's a rather long and complicated story, but I'll try to tell you as clearly as possible. Don't hesitate to interrupt me if there's something you don't understand." And with that, Teresa proceeded to tell them an abbreviated version of the whole tale about their grandson, Red John, and Patrick's involvement with the CBI. The old couple interrupted her several times, asking for details and inquiring about their grandson, their faces turning more and more worried and compassionate the more information they got.
When Lisbon had finished her summing-up, Elisa spoke up, "Do I get it right? We have a grandson, who happens to be your colleague and who lost his wife and child, our great-grandchild, to a serial killer? And he used to be a fake psychic?"
Lisbon nodded.
"Jonathan! Don't you remember? We saw him on TV. And we read about the murder. We didn't connect the dots, but it actually touched us a lot, because he shared our last name," the old lady cried out. "That was our grandchild!"
Her husband who sat on the sofa close to her, took hold of her hand. "Yes, I remember. We talked about it a lot. I am a psychiatrist and I often contemplated what such an awful event might do to a young man and whether the poor guy had gotten the right support afterwards. We should have… I mean, I never imagined Alex would become a father. God, we might have actually been able to help our grandson. We had no idea, Agent." He looked very distraught. "And that same killer murdered our son as well now? To spite our grandchild?"
"Well, yes. In a way. But it wasn't just to spite him, I'm afraid. Over the years of their cat-and-mouse-game, Red John's become unnaturally obsessed with your grandson. In his sick, psychopathic mind he considers him as some kind of friend. And what I haven't told you yet is that Alexander attacked my consultant with a knife three days ago. He was a very abusive father, unfortunately." She had to pause because the elderly couple showed signs of obvious distress at these news. But soon enough Elisa motioned for her to continue. "Well, part of the reason that serial killer murdered Alexander was to avenge that knife-attack on your grandson. I'm sure you know that Red John usually uses knives as well. He didn't take kindly to someone poaching in his hunting preserve, so to speak. He left a letter clarifying that."
The Janes had intertwined their hands and looked at her with deeply perturbed expressions. Elisa broke the silence. "This is so awful! The poor boy. How is he?"
"He is a very strong man, ma'am. He is doing as well as can be expected," Teresa reassured her.
The old lady released a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear. You are close to him, aren't you? I watched your eyes while you talked about him. Are you in love with my grandson, Agent Lisbon?"
Teresa blushed forcefully and mumbled, "Now I know where he got his damn perceptiveness from."
Elisa smiled at her kindly. "No reason to be ashamed, dear. I'm glad he has someone in his life. It doesn't sound as if he's been spoiled with happiness."
"No, he hasn't," Lisbon admitted silently. "But he's a remarkable man. Strong, kind. Even though he's damaged and complicated. I love him very much." Her blush intensified again.
Jonathan chimed in at that moment. "What's his name? You haven't given us his name yet. And I'm afraid I can't remember it from TV."
"His name is Patrick. Patrick Alexander Jane. Would you like to meet him?" Teresa asked.
"We would love to!" Elisa said, and her husband nodded eagerly.
Lisbon smiled with relief. "He's waiting outside in the car," she said.
"What? He's here? Why didn't he come in with you?" Elisa asked with astonishment.
"I'm afraid he isn't the most self-assured man, and considering the circumstances, he wasn't sure you would want to meet him. Partly because of being his father's son and he assumed that you didn't have the best relationship with him. But to be honest, I think it's mostly because he's afraid he won't measure up. But don't tell him I said that," Teresa explained.
"Well, go get him. I want to take a look at my grandson now," Elisa ordered.
Teresa got up and Jonathan followed her to the door. "I'll wait here for you to return with him. I think I might have a good idea about his state of mind after what you've told us. Remember, I'm a psychiatrist. We'll tread carefully with him, so don't worry. My wife might appear a bit rash, but she's very considerate when it counts." He gave her shoulder a comforting pat.
Lisbon smiled at the kind gesture and went to her car. She was extremely relieved the meeting with the Janes had gone so well. They were lovely people and she was sure they'd welcome their grandson with open arms. A feeling of happiness filled her.
When she was closer, Patrick opened the door and looked at her expectantly. "Well? How did it go? You seem, dare I say it, elated."
She bent down and kissed him. "Yes, that just about covers it. Get out of the car. You have some grandparents to meet, imp," she said afterwards.
He looked at her doubtfully. "Do you really think it's the best of times for this? They just heard about their son's murder and I presume they also know it's partly my fault he's dead."
"Not that nonsense again, Jane. Stop it. They insisted I should go and get you. They are ecstatic to meet you. And believe me, your grandmother is a very demanding and feisty old lady. I'm not willing to ruffle her feathers. Come on. Don't make me call you a wimp again," she threatened.
Patrick got out of the car with great reluctance. Teresa had hardly ever seen him so insecure before. She could even notice his hands shaking slightly, though he made a big effort to rein in his emotions. He stood before her with sad eyes and asked, "Are you sure? I'm not… I mean… They'll be disappointed. Maybe it's better to just leave, Lisbon. So they can keep their illusion that I'm… you know… someone worthy, not such a… a…" He stopped talking.
She pulled him into a hug. "Oh Patrick. Don't talk about yourself like that. They are gonna love you, I'm sure of it. Please believe me. They are very anxious to meet you. Give it a chance, please." She released him and grabbed his hand instead, pulling him to the house. He followed her on unsteady legs.
They were greeted at the open door by Patrick's grandfather. "Hello son," he said warmly, looking the younger man straight in the eyes. Long years as a therapist made him recognize at once that his grandson only pretended to be collected. Other than that, he was delighted to see that the young man had inherited his wife's eyes. He grabbed Patrick's hand gently and squeezed it for a moment in a reassuring way. "I'm Jonathan. Come on in. Your grandmother has probably reached the end of her patience by now. She wants to meet you so much."
Patrick just nodded feeling completely tongue-tied. He followed his grandfather into the living room where the keen old lady awaited them. Elisa Jane had even gotten up from her armchair ignoring her hurting food. She wanted to take in her newfound grandchild standing up.
When the curly blond man entered, she exclaimed, "My, aren't you a handsome one! Come here, Patrick. Let me take a closer look at you."
Reluctantly the CBI consultant complied. "Don't be shy. I won't bite you, dear." She retook her seat in the armchair and patted the spot on the sofa closest to her, "Sit down with me. Please excuse my discourtesy. I'm not allowed to stand up for too long. Doctor's orders. Complete overreaction of course, but your grandfather insists… It's just a sprained ankle. One would think I was on my deathbed with how they behave," she mock-huffed.
She'd taken in the situation at once. Her grandson seemed to be on the verge of bunking, fear and insecurity clearly visible to her keen sense of observation though she had to compliment him on his effort concealing it. A bit of meaningless ramble might just do the trick and calm the young man. She seemed to succeed because a small, mischievous smile had found its way on his lips.
"Well, Patrick. How about a cup of tea? Jonathan was just about to make another pot. I hope you like tea. We're not much of coffee-drinkers in this family." She smiled at him warmly while her husband took the empty pot and left the room.
"I… actually… I certainly wouldn't mind a cup," he managed to say. "I love tea," he added quietly. "Always have."
"You are a Jane alright, my boy." She patted his thigh gently. "Welcome to the family."
The two women still present in the room saw that Patrick fought to keep back tears.
"Teresa, dear, why don't you come and sit with us? There's enough space for you on the sofa," Elisa said, intending to deflect the situation and give her grandson time to compose himself.
"So, I hear that you work with the police, Patrick. But as far as I understand it, you're not a cop. What's your job exactly?" she inquired curiously, hoping to ease him into a conversation.
He looked up and really gazed at his grandmother for the first time. Both gasped a bit when they realized just how similar their eyes were.
"I'm a consultant. I guess I'm rather good at spotting things," he explained shyly.
Elisa snorted. "Somehow I think there's quite a bit more to it. Come on, my boy. Give your poor grandma the juicy details."
Patrick couldn't suppress a light chuckle. He had decided right from the start that he really liked that woman. She was very perceptive and he presumed her keen mind could easily challenge him. Besides, she seemed to possess a sense of humor he could relate to perfectly. And she exuded genuine warmth.
It was hard to believe that this was actually his father's mother. But somehow they'd grown apart so much, they'd severed all ties, and that made him wary. She might renounce him as well, when he didn't manage to measure up, and chances were high he wouldn't. He wasn't someone to be proud of after all. This was a highly educated family and he didn't even have a high school diploma. Had grown up amongst carnies instead. Furthermore, he'd made his living conning people most of his life. He certainly didn't qualify as a member of this kin. And he was very afraid they'd show him to the door the minute they learnt more about him. Best to keep his cards close to his chest, he decided. The less he revealed, the longer he could pretend to be a welcome addition to this family.
"There isn't much to say, really. I just help the police on occasion. Nothing special," he said vaguely.
Now it was Lisbon's turn to snort. "That's the biggest piece of rubbish I've heard from you in a long time," she chided him. "Why don't you tell Elisa what you really do?"
Patrick glared at her angrily. "Butt out, Lisbon," he hissed.
"Now, now, my dear," his grandmother said, patting his thigh again. "No need to fight. I don't know why you're so reluctant to tell me, but maybe you'll be more comfortable about it the next time we meet."
"The next time?" he asked with honest astonishment. "You want there to be a next time?"
At that moment Jonathan returned with the tea pot and a fresh cup for Patrick. "Why certainly we want a next time. What kind of question is that? We just found out we have another grandson. Of course we want to get to know him. You're family. You won't get rid of us that easily," he said with a warm smile. Deep down he was worried however. This was one troubled man for sure, he thought. Remembering Agent Lisbon's words from earlier about Patrick being afraid of not being worthy, he concluded that his reluctance to share details about himself was caused by his fear of rejection. One look at his wife confirmed that she'd come to the same conclusion.
"Here, have a spot of tea and let's talk about something else, shall we? Did you know you have an uncle and two cousins? How about I show you some pictures?" The retired psychiatrist stepped in to save the situation.
The youngest Jane nodded his consent to both the drink and the change of topic. Jonathan prepared a cup of tea for him, then went over to the bookshelf and returned with a photo album. He sat down on the couch between Teresa and Patrick and opened the book. The next hour was spent looking at pictures and Elisa and Jonathan entertaining them with stories about the rest of the family. The consultant relaxed more and more and soaked up all the information he could about his newfound family. This was such an alien feeling for him, knowing that there were people around who he was related to, he hadn't quite managed to comprehend it all. Suddenly he felt a bit overwhelmed and decided he needed a moment to compose himself. He asked for the bathroom and was sent upstairs by his grandfather.
"Second door on the right," the old man explained.
Patrick nodded and left the room.
When he was deemed out of hearing range, Jonathan addressed Teresa quietly. "You didn't exaggerate. He's really insecure, the poor lad."
She confirmed this with a nod.
"Is there a way we could ease his mind a bit? It seems like he expects us to throw him out any minute," Elisa asked her.
Lisbon contemplated the question for a moment. "I don't know, really," she finally said. "The last few days have been exceptionally taxing for him. He isn't always that apprehensive. Just give him time and show him that you truly want him in your life." She paused, glancing at them seriously. "Maybe you could tell him a bit about your discord with his father. I'm sure he's anxious to find out why he's never heard of you before. It might reassure him." She considered her next words carefully. "It depends on the situation, I guess. I mean, I don't know what happened between you and your son either," she said.
Jonathan answered, "That might be a good idea. But the tale isn't a nice one exactly. Our son just died. It would feel a bit indecent to talk ill about the dead like that." He paused shortly to ponder the situation. "On the other hand, I really want my grandson to feel comfortable around us. Our problems with Alexander shouldn't interfere with our relationship with Patrick. I've only known him for a couple of hours, but I'm quite sure that he isn't like his father. Well, maybe not entirely different either. I understood from your earlier revelations that Patrick has quite the manipulative streak and that he can be both ruthless and cruel."
He paused, not sure whether he had heard something from outside the room. The sudden slam of the entrance door confirmed this. "Damn," he exclaimed jumping up from the sofa at the same time as Teresa, both rushing to the door. Elisa shouted after them frantically, "Please get him back!"
TBC
Some major Jane angst ahead... poor guy never gets a break in this fic. I'm a bit cruel, I know...
To keep you updated on the weather situation where I live: that damn winter has decided to be extra stubborn and has returned with full force! The temperature dropped by 20 degrees (Celsius) from one day to the next and it's been snowing constantly for two days now... Hopefully, it's the last great hurrah...
