Author's notes: Thank you reviewers, you are so kind and supportive. A heavier chapter today, lots of reference to Pink Envelopes.
Teresa pulls away and Patrick hands her a handkerchief he pulls from his pocket. She takes it from him and dabs at her eyes, giving an embarrassed laugh, not looking at him.
"I'm sorry I don't understand what came over me."
"That's okay Teresa."
He gently takes her by the shoulder.
"Let's sit down"
"You need to clean yourself up Jane."
"oh oh, I'm in trouble again."
Lisbon smiles:
"No you're not, sorry."
She looks at the handkerchief and holds it out to him.
"It's still usable. luckily I haven't blown my nose. Let me help you"
She dabs at the blood, dripping from his scratches. Patrick winces at her touch, she hesitates.
"Carry on, I was taken by surprise."
After she's finished he sits down on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
He pats the ground beside him.
"Come on, Teresa."
She doesn't budge.
"Let's get going.."
"Come on Teresa, you were too worried about me to get real help for yourself, for what you went through. Let me help you now. The tears had something to do with when Red John took you?"
She still doesn't move. He pats the ground once more and gives her his best smile hiding the sting it causes from his scratches
She lets out a sigh and sits down.
"Good."
They sit side by side, both with their legs pulled up with their arms around them. Both looking out at the scenary. Patrick allowing Lisbon the time to remember before speaking, his voice soft and low.
"I was pretty out of it, so I don't know what happened to you and I've selfishly ignored it, dealing with my problems.''"
He turns his head and looks at her.
"You, however, unselfishly ignored it so you could help me. I know you didn't really talk to the shrink.."
Lisbon interrupts:
"...a good job since she was a Red John operative."
"True. Now you've unselfishly taken time off work to come with me, to help me, once more and there's no reason why it can't help you too. In fact, I insist on it.
"I don't want to re-live it, I want to forget it."
"You already are re-living it."
Patrick lowers his voice to a whisper.
"Tell me about it, Teresa."
Teresa looks to the ground, shutting her eyes tight against the tears that are forming. Jane lays his hand on top of hers and gives it squeeze.
"It's all right, it's just the two of us."
She looks up to the sky, blinking hard. She takes a deep breath and starts talking to the view.
"It was Monday lunch time before we realised what had happened. Red John sent a chocolate, wrapped in a pink box, he'd included, one of those shiny, smiley face, confetti, things, like he put in the envelopes he sent to you."
"I remember."
"It must have fallen as I opened the box, because I didn't find it until later. I'm sorry Jane, I missed it, we could've saved you earlier, if I'd just seen it."
"Don't blame yourself, he'd already done his worse."
"We knew Red John probably had you the whole weekend and we didn't know where. There was nothing to go on. So I came up with the idea of the press conference and baiting Red John to take me too."
Patrick bites back his instinct to chastise her for taking such a risk for him.
It didn't take long, I was rendered unconscious and woke up tied to a chair, you were..."
She's unable to stop the tears falling down her cheeks. He tightens the hold on her hand.
"...you were in front of me, you're body bleeding and scarred."
She shakes her head:
"The way he had you tied to the chair..."
She wipes at her tears and composes herself. She's still talking to the view.
"You were unconscious. He spoke from behind me and accused you of being rude and brought you back to consciousness with a whip. He cut you, all over your body, just enough to cause you to bleed. You didn't react, you stared at the ceiling, hardly blinking. I was afraid we were too late, that there was nothing left to save. That maybe where ever you had gone, you couldn't come back from. Then when Red John left, you said my name."
Sometimes having a perfect memory is a curse, he remembers that time more vividly than he ought. In others, their brain, would've blocked it out, to save them from suffering, but, at least, he can help Teresa now. He looks at her. Her face is in profile.
"Look at me Teresa"
She slowly turns her head.
"I'd given up, I wanted to die, the pain was unbearable, I'd had enough. I couldn't process anything but the pain, and then I could feel the blood dripping and was happy, my life was draining away. I struggled to regain a hold on the world so I could thank Red John for what he was doing, somehow I thought it would be a victory for me. And then, I heard your voice, and it brought light and warmth in to my world. You have nothing to blame yourself for. You saved me, at a risk to your own life. I can't take away the images in your head...well I could but you wouldn't let me.."
"You're right about that."
Patrick can't suppress a smile, at the predictable response, which makes Lisbon laugh.
"That's good to hear...You saved me Teresa, in every way, in Red John's lair, in the hospital and you're still doing so, in this beautiful place."
Teresa turns and stares at the view once more, Patrick stares at Teresa, she smiles and pats his hand.
Later that night Patrick is standing in his boxer shorts staring at himself in the full length mirror. His eyes move over the scars that cover his body and that he's tried his best to ignore. Some are faint and will disappear over time, some will stay forever, the one on his thigh is particularly ugly from his abuse of the stitches. Red John's mark all over him, they are a constant reminder. It takes all his will power to stop himself smashing the glass.