Thank you to all of you who have/are reviewing. I so appreciate your comments, including your suggestions for where you'd like to see this story go. I hope you're all still enjoying! I've just started reading other Mentalist fics and am wowed by the great writers out there in this fandom. It's very humbling!
This is a very angsty chapter.
What was wrong with her? Everything should be wonderful. She was in a relationship with the man she loved, whom she had loved for a long time. She should be happy. But there was something wrong, or at least something that was not right. She wished she could figure out what it was.
Jane had been amazing. He'd been sweet and caring and romantic and had even tempered his actions at work. Both Abbott and Fischer had congratulated her, telling her that they'd never seen such good behavior from their consultant. Instead of this making her happy, it had added to the increasing tension she was feeling.
She knew that Patrick had noticed and that he was worried. So far he hadn't said anything but had been even nicer and sweeter. He was trying so hard and for the life of her she couldn't figure out what the hell was the matter.
She'd actually snapped at him at a crime seen that morning and she'd caught the hurt look in his eyes. A master of hiding his emotions, no one else noticed and he carried on pretty much as usual. Of course she noticed and felt guilty as hell. What made it worse was he didn't say anything. A part of her had hoped that he'd call her on it, the way he normally did. She'd then deny anything was wrong, then get angry and then they'd argue and she'd get whatever it was out of her system. But he didn't and she didn't and she felt like hell.
She knew she had to do something or else their relationship would end before it had even had a chance to really begin. She hadn't seen him since they'd left he crime scene, which wasn't like him. She wondered if she should look for him, but since she didn't know what to say, she instead sat at her desk and tried to focus on paperwork.
She glanced up regularly to see if he'd come back, but so far he hadn't appeared. She could go and ask one of the others or even Abbott where he was, but that might just start awkward questions, something she really didn't need right now. So, instead she put her head down and stared at the papers in front of her.
It was almost time to leave and still Jane hadn't shown up. She couldn't take it anymore and finally walked over to Cho. "Have you seen Jane?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Not recently. Not since he left."
"Left? Did he say where he was going?"
Cho looked at her with a slight frown between his brows. "Didn't he tell you?"
"Uh no. Or he may have and I forgot. I was thinking about the case and probably just – uh – missed him."
At this he swiveled his chair around until he was facing her. "What's wrong Lisbon?"
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong. I just was wondering where he went, that's all."
"He left because he said he wasn't feeling well. I don't think it was physical. And right now you look about the same. So, what's going on?"
"Nothing."
He didn't say a word but simply regarded her intently. It was at moments like these that she realized why Cho was so good at interrogations. He didn't need to say much of anything and she wanted to confess things she hadn't even done. At that thought she had to choke back a laugh. The next moment the almost laugh turned into an almost cry as the emotion began to well up. "I don't know what's wrong", she finally admitted, ever though Kimball hadn't said another word. "It should be perfect. Jane's been great and I know he – he cares for me."
"He loves you. He's crazy about you", Cho corrected.
"I know – and I feel the same about him. It's just – something's bothering me and I don't know what it is."
"Have you talked to him?"
"No, because I don't know what to say."
"Tell him what you just told me. If you don't, it's not going to work. He's not a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve – we all know that – but he's hurting and he doesn't know what to do. He's afraid he's going to lose you."
"I don't want to lose him either. What's wrong with me? Everything should be wonderful and instead I feel like it's all going to hell before we've even had a chance."
"Do you want it to work?"
She paused for a moment and stared at the man who was often hard to read but who had proved to be a good friend many times over. She finally took a deep breath. "There's nothing I want more. I love him Kimball. He's my life."
"Then tell him that", Cho told her again. "He needs to know that because I don't think he feels very confident in you or in himself. In fact I know he doesn't. He doesn't think he deserves you and if you keep this up he'll walk away, thinking he's doing the right thing."
"God no", she murmured, dropping her head to her hands. "But I don't know what's wrong. Why do I feel like this when I love him so much?"
Cho shook his head. "I don't know Teresa. But tell him" he told her again, showing a rare moment of emotion. "He deserves to know how you feel." He handed her a Kleenex and watched her silently as she dabbed her face and tried to regain her composure.
"Thanks Kimball", she sniffed and gave him a smile. "I needed that."
"You're welcome. I think he went back to his trailer. Go see him."
"I will", she gave him another smile and stood up, determined to figure this out so that she wouldn't lose the man she loved.
Jane had known for a while that things weren't going the way he'd hoped they would. At first everything had been good and he'd been hopeful. Soon, however, he'd begun to notice a tension in Teresa that hadn't been there before. Outwardly she seemed happy, but he could tell that something was bothering her. He'd tried on many occasions to worm it out of her – or simply to figure it out on his own. He was good at that – it was what he did. But this time he had no luck. She wasn't speaking and his skills seemed to have deserted him, at least where she was concerned.
He began to really worry. Not just to worry, but to despair. He'd finally gathered the courage to tell her, had placed his heart on his sleeve, expecting to be rejected. When she'd told him she loved him he'd been overjoyed and he had allowed himself to hope and to dream of an actual future. For the first time since that fateful day when he'd returned home and found that note on his door, he had started to believe that life held something good for him. Now things felt like they crashing down around him. He knew himself well enough to know that if they did, he would never open himself up again. He'd been given a taste of what life could be like for him, once more, but it was slowly and steadily being taken away from him.
He was trying to be the best he could be. He tried to make her feel like he deserved her – that he would never hurt her. He was on his best behavior at work, and had bit his tongue on more occasions than he could count. But it didn't seem to matter. She was drawing away from him and he didn't know why.
It had finally come to a head that morning when she'd spoken to him with such anger it had almost caused him to physically step away from her. As it was he'd had to use all his acting ability to hide from the others how devastating it was. He didn't know what he'd done, but he knew it was something. He also knew, with blinding clarity that it wasn't going to work. He just wasn't good enough for her and she had finally realized it. She should have gone to Washington with Agent Pike.
For once he wasn't able to hide his feelings and so, when she left the room for a few minutes he'd gone in to Abbott and told him he was feeling sick and needed to leave. Abbott stared at him for a few seconds and then nodded. "You don't look too good. Take care of yourself. Do you want Lisbon to drive you?"
"No, she's got a lot of work right now. I'm fine to drive. I'm just going home and to bed."
He'd left with a quick explanation to Cho and Kim. He figured Lisbon would be relieved to have him gone for the day.
Instead of returning to the Airstream however, he headed towards a nearby park. Wandering over to a bench he sat down, too tired and too discouraged to do anything but watch people as they drifted by.
She knocked for the third time on the door to his trailer, although by now it was obvious that he wasn't there. Where could he be? It suddenly hit her that she had no idea of the places he went when he wasn't working or with her. She frowned when it hit her that she had never even bothered to ask.
How horrible was that? She slowly walked back to her car and got in. But rather than start it up she sat there, thinking about Jane. He really was being wonderful, she told herself. She'd worried that when or if they ever got together she'd find him difficult to be around. He was difficult, although not in the little day-to-day ways, but he was also interesting and funny and infuriating and so very, very precious. So why the hell was there a problem?
She thought back to the last few weeks and tried to analyze what it could be. He did all the right things but – but what Teresa? What was it? What was wrong? She pictured him sitting on her couch, watching her as she puttered around her living room tidying up while they talked. She thought of his smile, the mischievous look in his eyes when he was teasing her and the gentleness when he was showing her how much he loved her. She thought of him lying out on her couch, reading, sleeping, grinning at her.
She picture his twisting his ring, telling her -. Her brain froze and her brows crinkled. What was that? His ring. That was it – that's what was bothering her.
No, it wasn't really the ring. She understood why he kept it on, had accepted it years ago and had actually thought it sweet and wonderful that he was so devoted to his wife. The issue wasn't the ring itself but rather the fact that he never mentioned it or his wife or daughter or really anything about them or even about how he felt about anything. Oh, he told her he loved her, that she meant the world to him, but she didn't know much else about his feelings.
She thought back to all their conversations both before and after they started dating. Except for a few very rare occurrences, he never spoke about his wife or daughter or their life together. She had no idea what they had been like, or what they liked to do together. She could understand that it must still be painful but surely after all these years he could say something.
And the fact was it wasn't even really about him not talking about them. It dawned on her that what was bothering her was that she didn't know if he could ever let go of the past enough to have a future with her. Not that she wanted him to let go completely. No, she knew his wife and daughter were a central part of his life and always would be. But she suspected that he hadn't really forgiven himself or that he hadn't given himself permission to move on. He was making all the right moves, but a core part of Patrick Jane was still caught up in the love and guilt he still felt for his wife and daughter. The fact that he couldn't talk about them, that he still wore his ring and that he rarely if ever gave anything away about his deepest feelings for them had subconsciously made her worry that he wasn't ready for another relationship.
He loved her, that she knew, but she didn't know if he was ready to move on. He tried to show her he was and she suspected he tried to tell himself he was – but she had begun to doubt. She thought of the hesitation she sometimes caught in his eyes and the fierce control he exercised over his emotions. He wanted everyone to think that killing Red John had brought him closure – but she really wondered if it had.
And if not, could they have a life together or would the specter of Angela and Charlotte get in the way of their life together?
She started her car and drove home.
Jane finally returned to his trailer, physically and mentally exhausted. The past month had been incredible, in so many ways, but also more stressful than he would have ever believed. In trying to make sure Lisbon didn't regret her decision, he figured he'd tried a little too hard. Maybe that's what was wrong. Whatever it was though, he knew he had to figure it out or he was going to lose her. He just wished he had some idea what was bothering her. It frustrated him terribly that he couldn't figure it out.
He fixed himself a cup of tea, but even that didn't seem to help. He paced around the Airstream, for once wishing that he had more space. That immediately brought to mind his house in Malibu. It was big and spacious and beautiful and a place he avoided thinking about now that - things had changed. He remembered Teresa asking him about it and him brushing her off. It still brought up memories he avoided, although he knew that one day he'd have to make a decision about it – just not now.
Now he had to try and figure out what to do about Lisbon. There was no way in hell he was going to lose her, not if he had anything to say about it. He reached down and played with his ring, trying to figure out what his next steps should be.
It was as he was thinking – looking down at his hands – that he had a sudden revelation. His ring. He was still wearing his wedding ring. "Damn", he said softly, staring down at the thin circle of gold that had stayed on his finger – except for two very brief periods – since he'd said his vows with Angela.
What had he been thinking? He was with Teresa now and yet he still wore his ring. It hadn't even dawned on him, which was rather absurd. How could it not – and how could she not notice. And then there was his refusal to talk about his house – and his avoidance of the stupid koalas without any explanation. She'd figured it out, but she shouldn't have had to.
What the hell was wrong with him? He chuckled softly, bitterly. He knew exactly what was wrong with him. He'd closed himself off emotionally from anyone and everyone for so long that it had become a habit. On top of that, he'd refused to let himself think about Angela or Charlotte – or about their lives together – in any other context than his quest for revenge.
It had been too painful to conjure up memories of his wife and daughter. For a long time after their deaths he simply existed. He went through the motions of living, his only motivation the drive to kill Red John. Slowly over time, through the friendship of his CBI colleagues, and the support and trust of Lisbon, his heart had managed to crack open a little bit. He'd let them in, slowly, surely, but he still had not allowed himself to spend time on memories of his family.
He'd never said goodbye to them and he hadn't told them how much he loved them – had loved them and still loved them. In his mind he knew it didn't matter – they were dead and it would mean nothing to them – but in his heart he knew he had been remiss. He had been so caught up in revenge, for so long, that he had closed his heart to his love for them. He had not allowed himself to remember for in remembrance he knew there was pain. But now - it was time. If he was to move forward he had to accept all that was in the past – the pain he had lived with for so long, and the love and memories from which he'd hidden. It was only then that he could truly build a life with Teresa. He suddenly knew that she had seen this, even if she didn't quite understand it.
He continued to sit, the tea in front of him untouched and the light growing dim. It was only long after darkness had come that he slowly touched his left hand. After a moment's hesitation he pulled off his wedding ring, holding it in his hand until, finally sighing he stood up. He'd put it somewhere safe, but he would never again wear it. "I love you Angela", he said softly, as he placed the ring in his night table. He slowly closed the drawer and sat on the bed, unmoving for hours.
When Lisbon arrived at work the next morning she immediately noticed that Jane wasn't in. That wasn't unusual – he wasn't always the first one in – but still she worried. Soon the office filled up but still no Jane. She was just about to ask Cho, when Abbott came by and asked to see her. With a bad feeling in her stomach she stood and followed him.
"Agent Lisbon", he motioned her to a chair. "I wanted to let you know that I've given Jane a few days off. He had some business to attend to and he asked for time to deal with it."
"Oh – okay", she told her boss. "How long will he be off? Did he – is he in Austin?"
"A week or so and I don't know where he went", he answered, looking at her with a puzzled look. He must have thought she should know. "I assumed his business was here."
"You trust him?" Lisbon asked bluntly, surprised at Abbott would let Jane go so easily.
"To come back you mean?" Abbott asked, his brows raised. "Yes, I trust him. He has an – incentive – to come back. And he told me he would and this time I believed him. I'm not worried and neither should you be."
"No", she sighed, although inside she wondered. What had she done that would make him leave like this? "Well, thank you for telling me Sir", she stood. "Was that all?"
"Yes." Abbott watched as she headed towards the door. "Teresa", he called. "Don't worry so much. He will be back you know."
"I – know", she smiled. "I just – thank you again Sir, for telling me."
He watched as she left and headed back to her desk. "Jane, I hope you know what you're doing", he said, shaking his head.
Teresa didn't know what to think about Jane's absence. He hadn't bothered to get in touch with her, which hurt. She knew she'd been awful to him, but not enough that she deserved to have him take off like this without talking to her. This reminded her of the old Jane, and it was scaring her. And what kind of business could he possibly have to look after? She sighed. No point in speculating she decided. She might just as well try and relax and not think about him for a couple of days. She decided a break might be a good thing.
She went around looking and acting as if everything was fine and her colleagues all seemed to buy it. Of course most of them didn't know about her and Jane so they weren't suspicious. Even Abbott and Fischer didn't notice anything wrong. Cho, on the other hand, gave her looks, which indicated he wasn't buying her act at all. Fortunately he didn't say anything, for which she was grateful. She was pretty sure she'd fall apart if he did.
By the end of the week her worry had begun to turn to anger. How dare he just take off like this and leave her without a word. What if something bad had happened? Maybe someone close to him was sick or had died. She laughed bitterly. She didn't even know if he had someone close to him. Maybe she'd been right to worry. Maybe this wasn't going to work. It certainly wouldn't if she couldn't trust him not to take off on her.
She turned down an invite to go for pizza and beer after work on Friday. She didn't feel like maintaining the charade with her colleagues that everything was okay. Instead she decided to go home and wallow in self-pity. Then she was going to find a picture of Jane and throw things at it. After that she'd have an ice-cream orgy and watch chick flicks. Maybe then she'd be able to fall asleep. "Oh Jane – where the hell are you?" she whispered as she made her way home.
He was standing on her porch when she got home, leaning up against the door looking the same as always. After turning off the car engine she simply sat in her driveway, staring at him. He looked back at her and she could see his face becoming more worried the longer she sat. It was only as he stood up straight, probably deciding to check on her, that she moved.
"Well, if it isn't Patrick Jane", she said as she walked up to her front door. "Have a nice time?"
"Teresa -"
"I don't want to hear it Jane", she told him angrily. She pushed past him and tried to put the key in her lock but was so angry that her hands were shaking and it took longer than normal. All the while Jane stood silently behind her.
"Teresa, please?"
"What?" she swung around, just as her door popped open. "What do you want? You go away for days and don't bother even calling. Why should I simply welcome you back with open arms?"
It was only as he stood staring at her silently that she noticed. The light was fading but still, he looked tired and pale and – sad. It was a look she'd seen on him a few times over the years, usually when something really bad had happened or when something had brought the full force of his tragedy to the forefront. It was a look that made her want to open her arms and try and take away his pain. It also stopped her tirade cold.
"I – don't know", he finally got out, the words soft and hesitant. "Please just – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll go."
He closed his eyes briefly and when they opened again she could see the utter despair and sadness in his eyes. He turned slowly, as if to leave.
"No", Teresa grasped his arm and stopped him. "No, don't go. Come in."
He swallowed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes", she sighed. "I'm sure. That's not to say I'm not still really angry at you, and you better have a good reason for disappearing, but – I want you to come in."
"Thank you" he told her as he followed behind her. He waited until she took off her weapon and put it away and then continued behind her into her living room.
"Sit. Do you want some tea?"
"Uh – okay."
She took a deep breath and nodded. She was tempted to say to hell with the tea and rush up to him and enfold him in her arms, but was stopped by the doubt and anger that had built over the last few days. She hated the conflicting emotions and figured that a few minutes alone might help. "Sit down. I'll be right back."
"Here you go." She placed his favorite teacup on the table in front of him and then sat down in the chair opposite him. She watched as he took a sip and seemed to relax slightly.
"You make a perfect cup of tea Lisbon."
She couldn't help but smile, knowing that that was the ultimate compliment. "Well I should. You spent enough time teaching me."
"Yes, well, the lessons took."
She regarded him for the next few moments as he sat quietly drinking tea. She was even more worried now that she could see him plainly. He looked exhausted and so very unsure of himself. It reminded her of the first time she met him – when he'd been a man thoroughly broken by the tragic death of his wife and child. She had never wanted to see him like that again – and it frightened her horribly.
"Uh, I got you a present", he suddenly said. Placing his cup down he reached into his pocket and drew out a small wrapped package and handed it to her.
"A present?" she frowned down at it and then back up at Jane. He was sipping his tea again, not looking at her. With a soft shrug she began to rip off the paper.
Her breath caught at what she was holding. "Jane?"
"I – I'm sorry about that too. I should have said something then."
"You didn't have to Jane. I told you, I should have realized."
"Why?" He gave a crooked smile. "Why should you always have to guess and figure things out about me? I should just have told you but – I'm not good at that and I'm sorry."
"Oh Patrick", she looked down again at the small stuffed koala. Tears gathered in her eyes and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop them from escaping down her cheeks.
"I'm going to try Lisbon. I know I'm not good at sharing what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. But I know I have to. I just – please, please let me try?"
What had she done? She looked at the man in front of her and it suddenly hit her how much power she had over him – the power to hurt him, to destroy him – or the power to soothe him. She could never heal him completely and she wasn't about to try – but she could bring him a measure of peace and happiness. It could be a terrible burden – or it could be a wonderful, frightening, beautiful journey together. Because, as much as she had the power to hurt or help him – so too did he have the same power over her.
"Jane, I know you", she finally spoke. "I know it's hard for you and there will still be times where I get angry – and sometimes even hurt when you don't talk to me. But I love you and I know you love me. All I can do is ask that you keep trying, even knowing that you won't always succeed. Just please – promise me you won't take off like this again. I was scared."
"I'm sorry", he told her. "And I won't do it again, I promise."
"Thank you." She gave him a wobbly smile and looked down again at the koala. She wondered if he had any idea how much she was going to treasure it. It spoke volumes about his feelings for her – things he couldn't even say in words. She brought it up to her face and laid her cheek against it. "I love you, you know."
"Uh, I hope you're talking to me and not the stuffed animal", he suddenly told her.
She choked back a laugh and lifted her eyes to his. "I think the animal would be less trouble."
"Of course it would", he nodded, pleased to have made her smile. "But it's not nearly as much fun."
"But it's cute."
"Yes, but I'm cute too."
"Yes, yes you are", she said, considering him seriously. "But the animal is here, with me, and you're over there." The words had barely left her mouth when Jane was suddenly kneeling beside her chair, her hands in his. He leaned his head forward until it was lying in her lap. Of course she couldn't help but put her hands on his head, stroking gently. She felt herself begin to relax, for the first time in weeks.
"So", she said after a few moments. "Where were you?"
It took a second, but eventually Jane sat back, although he continued to kneel in front of her. "I went to get something", he told her. When she raised her eyebrow at him he smiled. "No, I'm not trying to keep it from you, in fact, I want to show you."
"Show me?"
"Mmm hmm. It's in my car. But we don't have to do it now", he told her. "We can wait."
She observed him carefully, noticing that although he seemed better he was still pale and tired looking. "Do you want to wait?" she asked.
"Uh -" He laughed softly. "Yes, but I'm afraid if we do I'll lose my courage."
"Your courage? Is it something bad."
"No – oh no, not bad, I promise." He gave her one of his brilliant smiles – the one that said he was hurting but didn't want her to know.
"It's not a tongue or anything is it?" she asked, remembering LaRoche's Tupperware box.
That made him laugh and relieved a bit of the tension. "No, I promise no tongues or any body parts. It really isn't bad Teresa – just – hard."
"Okay then, let's look at it now."
"Okay." He sat for another few seconds and then pushed himself up, looking even more tired. "I'll get it. Uh – could I have another cup of tea?"
"Of course." She stood up but before he had a chance to move she reached out and pulled him to her. Putting her arms around him she laid her head on his chest. "I missed you."
She could feel him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I missed you too."
They stayed there for a long time, simply holding each other and letting the peace of the evening wash over them. Jane took his hand and gently stroked her hair. "I love you."
She smiled up at him, loving him more now than yesterday or the day before. "I know – and that means everything", she told him.
He pulled back, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. "I'll be back in a few seconds", he told her. "Don't forget my tea!"
"I won't", she laughed. She watched as he headed for the door, her heart warming as he turned and gave her a gentle smile. It was only after he'd gone, and she moved towards the kitchen that she realized.
Jane wasn't wearing his wedding ring.