After a brutal leg day in the gym, going down the stairs presented itself as a nearly impossible task. Having finished their sets only moments before, the only thing that stood between Cho and Ronnie and the fresh outdoors was the gym's steep staircase.

Why do they make these staircases so freaking steep.

Cho went down first, not voicing any of the complaints running through his young partner's head. He'd powered through their workout like it was nothing, while she'd panted and struggled all the way through hers.

Crying internally, Ronnie pinned her hip to the hand rail for support, clomping down the stairs on exhausted legs that felt like jelly. It seemed harder than the actual workout, but she enjoyed the way her quads were visibly pumped below the hem of her shorts.

Her CBI/gym partner had been teaching her how to eat to best optimize her muscle growth and she'd been seeing all kinds of progress.

"What do you think, Cho? Protein shakes or eggs?" Hitting the bottom of the steps couldn't have been more of a relief if she had been reaching the summit of Mt. Shasta. She hoped he'd say eggs. She desperately needed a good plate of savory food.

Cho lifted his water to his lips and drank deeply, shuffling around in his gym bag for his car keys. He thrived in the heat and duress that they so often found themselves in, and often poked fun at her for struggling to keep up. "Real food," He finally said, catching his breath. With a wince from exertion, he glanced at her drawn expression. "We both need real food. Save the shakes for later."

They often brought stuff to make protein shakes during the day, filling up the CBI fridge with frozen fruit and yogurt.

Too light headed to respond, Ronnie nodded and pulled her own bag over her shoulder.

Their normal two and a half hours in the gym hadn't had it's usual affect on her. Instead of feeling loose, warm, and powerful, she felt tight, hot, and too weak to stand. Her legs tripped along beneath her clumsily, causing her to cast a wary look towards her feet.

Come on, legs, don't fail me now.

Cho had already stepped out into the sunlight by the time she realized she actually couldn't stand. Stumbling out after him like her legs were unfeeling stilts, Ronnie lunged for the wall and threw her weight against it. Her hands and arms scuffed the jagged brick right before it all went dark.

Crap.

At the strange gasp of air behind him, the winded older man turned to see why his partner sounded like she was about to go deep diving. She always got so dramatic on leg days.

He didn't at all expect what he saw instead.

Blanched pale, shaking violently, and grasping the wall behind her like it was the only thing she could hold onto, Ronnie's condition had shifted drastically in seconds.

He watched her go green right before she completely blacked out.

"Jeez, Masters," Cho dropped his bottle and his bag, bolting to catch her as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her legs buckled. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head, protecting her from a grisly concussion on the sidewalk. "Masters," Cho knelt next to the sickly-looking woman, feeling her pulse under her jaw.

The heartbeat he found there was weak and slow, but stabilizing. A breath of relief escaped his lips. Damn it, Ronnie. With the same hand, he peeled her eyelids back to check her eyes. She gave no response, and the skin of her cheek beneath the pad of his thumbs remained concave and discolored after he removed his hand.

It took over a second for the skin to bounce back.

Cho sighed heavily, staring down at her. "I told you to sleep more."

Getting up, he collected his keys and bag, slinging the latter over his shoulder and throwing her's over right along with it.

A couple walked by, on their way in to the gym, stopping short of the sight of Ronnie crumpled on the sidewalk. "Is she okay?"

Cho dropped to a squat, grabbing Ronnie's wallet and water bottle from where they'd fallen out of her hands. "She passed out." He explained flatly. "She's okay."

When the couple didn't accept his answer and go about their business, Cho flashed his badge at them. "I'll take care of her. She's my partner. Move along, folks."

He picked her up, cradled against his chest. At the sight of her head hanging limply against his shoulder, Cho's stomach knotted.

She was so reckless.

Sleeping either in her car or not at all, letting herself get dehydrated--she drove him crazy sometimes.

He got odd looks as he carried her across the parking lot, but he paid them no mind. It took a measure of concentration to unlock his car and open the door without dropping her on her butt, but he managed.

Careful not to bonk her head on the frame, the surly CBI agent lowered Ronnie into the backseat, propping her feet up on their gym gear.

For a moment, he just looked at her.

Pale as death, slick with sweat, hands still shaking even as they lay across her chest.

She'd wrecked herself.

His eyes skated her well-built frame, the bulge under her shirt sleeve where she'd bandaged her burn, the bruises on her arms, the thick glove on her left hand that covered the other bandage.

She'd insisted on the glove.

They had to do dead-lifts that day, and she'd said the burn would hurt too much without it. She hadn't complained about pain, so he'd assumed her plan worked out well.

Cho closed the door, sealing her in his hot car. He would take her to the hospital, but he wouldn't call an ambulance. She'd kill him if he called an ambulance because she passed out.

He kept his eyes on her in the rearview the whole way.

She never changed.

He'd stopped short when a light turned red and she'd nearly rolled off the seat, but she still didn't wake.

Damn her.

Damn her mother.

Cho bit his tongue to stop himself from hurling abuse at a woman who wasn't even there.

His badge earned Ronnie a bed immediately, and he watched the nurses cart her away from him. The nurse at the desk was still waiting for information. Tearing his eyes away from the doors she'd disappeared behind, Cho put his hands in his shorts pockets, fishing around for his phone. "Her name is Veronica Masters, age 25. She's an agent with the CBI. We were at the gym, finished a workout, she came down the stairs and passed out. Appears to be dehydrated. I believe it's fatigue, but I want to be sure."

Turning on his heel, Cho snapped his phone open and dialed Lisbon.

"Morning, Cho," Her soft voice greeted almost instantly.

"Lisbon. I'll be in late this morning. Just wanted to let you know I have Masters in the hospital--"

"What? What happened?"

"I think she's fine. She passed out, likely from exhaustion. I'll wait to talk to her doctor and then I'll be in." Cho lowered himself into a waiting room chair, suddenly jittery. His partner always made him so freaking nervous.

"Okay, no rush. Sounds like Jane's trying to have us chase a wild hare today. Take your time. And let us know how she's doing."

In typical Lisbon fashion, she hung up before he could respond.

The MENTALIST

The first thing Ronnie noticed when she awoke was that she had awoken on her back. She never slept on her back. An IV needle protruded from her arm. She could feel it before she opened her eyes.

Hospital.

Scratchy sheets, needles, the smell of plastic and antiseptic--how did she end up in a hospital? How bad had she screwed up at the gym?

Ronnie opened her eyes to find the IV drip she'd felt, plus a heart rate monitor. Her gym clothes had been replaced by a white hospital gown. She kind of wished she'd been able to see the nurse's face when she'd changed her clothes. It was always fun to watch people react to her scars.

They had better have been careful with her gym clothes.

They were expensive.

"I told you you need to sleep more." The deep, throaty voice came from somewhere to her left, and she instantly knew she was caught.

Ronnie flinched, turning her head to find Cho in the doorway, leaning on the frame, arms crossed. He'd changed out of his black workout clothes into black slacks, a white short-sleeve, and a dark blue tie.

He'd gone to work.

On top of everything, she was also late for work.

"How long have I been here? Did I pass out?" Ronnie looked for her watch, but they'd taken that off, too. She huffed and leaned back into her pillow, feeling the weight of her eyelids. Sleep called her back to it's warm embrace.

Scanning her up and down, though not like a person who was seeing her as she was for the first time, Cho moved into the room and sat down. He rubbed his hands over his thighs twice and then knitted his fingers together and rested them on his lap. "On the sidewalk. You've been asleep for three hours."

His eyes searched hers, worry making lines between his eyebrows.

Only three?

Ronnie had had weekend naps longer.

"Okay. How did I get here? You didn't--"

"I drove you. You slobbered on my backseat."

Ronnie rolled her eyes. She highly doubted his claim, and knew very well that he was trying to cover up the fact that he was concerned about her. "Okay, well, let's check me out. I'm ready to go." Her head was pounding and her arms felt like bricks, but she could go.

Lisbon will give me one of those stern motherly looks and then I'll be on paperwork duty for three days.

Cho held up one hand. "Sorry. Doc wants you here for at least eight hours. He said you've suffered acute exhaustion. You're at risk of passing out again, puking your guts out, and migraines until you get your feet back under you."

That was ridiculous.

"Eight hours? Did you call Lisbon? That's crazy. I have to go."

He gave her a firm look, displeased with her suboptimal condition. He wouldn't let her get out of that bed even if the President called for her. "Lisbon requested it. You're on one day's worth of medication, to be administered eight hours apart, and Lisbon ordered that you stay here and sleep between doses."

Ronnie's face turned into a pout at his cold and uncompromising tone. "Come on, Cho, get me out of here." She couldn't stay at the hospital for eight hours. She had to work. She had to go in.

Hospitals were sitting ducks for her mother, anyway.

Cho crossed his arms again, unblinking. "No."

"Well, what good are you?"

Cho checked his phone and then put it away, momentarily moving off the subject of her frail constitution. "Jane quit this morning."

Suddenly wide awake, Ronnie stared, jaw dropping. "What? He quit? He's gone?" Jane would never just up and quit the CBI. It was his surest way to the man who killed his family. He wouldn't just leave.

At the horror in her voice, Cho frowned. He'd been paying attention to her reactions to Jane recently, and there had been quite a few. "He won't be. Minnelli says hi."

Strange.

"He said to tell me hi?"

Cho shifted uncomfortably. "He said to tell you his thoughts are with you."

Ronnie grimaced. Gross. "Weird."

"So, anyway, Jane ruffled the feathers of some rich muckety-mucks and Minnelli told him to give it up or get out. So he left." Cho was watching her heart rate monitor. He liked having a little window into her identity, a personal indicator of well-being.

Ronnie couldn't process the information. It was too much while she felt like she hadn't slept in months. Her head felt heavy, like it was full of gravel. "Who's the muckety-muck?" Her voice was petering out, like a children's toy losing battery life.

"Family of an allegedly falsely convicted rapist and murderer. Guy says he can connect Jane with Red John."

Crap.

Well, that made more sense.

"So Jane won't give it up."

"No," Cho reached out and read the IV bag for a second, then grabbed her hand.

Ronnie frowned. "Are you taking advantage of me, Cho?"

He ignored her, turning her hand over and pressing his fingers to her knuckles. When he pulled his fingers back, he watched the color return and the skin bounce back instantly.

He put her hand down and leaned back again.

Ronnie raised an eyebrow.

"You were dead skin a couple hours ago." He explained.

"Thanks, Cho."

He shrugged at her sarcasm. "So, anyway, the rest of us are suspended."

And the hits just kept coming.

"You're what?"

She'd missed so much.

Of course her body decided to give out on the day they get a crazy Red John case.

"We weren't going to just let Jane quit."

Of course they weren't.

"So I'm the only one on active duty?"

"Yep."

The MENTALIST

The next time Ronnie woke up, Cho was set up in the corner of her hospital room with his laptop. He had one elbow propped up on his knee, his chin propped up on his fist. His concentration prevented him from noticing her stirring.

"Cho?" She mumbled sleepily.

Eyebrows jumping at the sound of her voice, he looked up, putting down whatever he had been working on. "Hey, killer," He greeted, getting up and stretching his legs. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he approached her bedside and smiled fondly. "How you doing?"

"I'm starving." She pushed herself upright and tossed her blankets back, tired of laying down. Even after a few more hours of sleep, exhaustion tugged at her thoughts, but she couldn't bear to be laying down anymore.

"Don't get up," Holding out a hand to signal for her to stay, Cho was already moving to the door. "I'll get food in here." He ducked out for only a second, and by the time he got back, she was sitting in front of his computer, her IV hanger hauled across the room to sit next to her.

He threw up his hands in frustration, taking quick strides to stop her from stressing herself out. The doctor had said that her cortisol levels were astronomical. "Masters, would you get back in bed?" He moved to her side, hands extended toward her shoulders, like she was just going to get up when he told her to.

But Ronnie just sat with her knees up in his little armchair, wrapped in her thin, scratchy hospital blanket. She looked like the young girl he'd rescued all those years ago, small and frail and trying to steal his jacket. "Renfrew is the alleged murderer?" She questioned, scanning his files. She forced her arms into his sport coat sleeves and wrapped the garment snugly around her before hiding under her blanket again.

She was just so darn bullheaded. Sighing, giving up on convincing his stubborn partner to rest again, Cho sat on the arm of her chair to confer with her over the computer screen. "Yeah. Red John messaged Jane--"

Stunned by this far-too-casually-revealed information, Ronnie's head whipped around, eyes wide and alarmed as she gaped at him. "Red John?"

There were those reactions again. Cho watched her face; he watched the information process.

"It's really him?"

Cho wished she was still hooked up to her heart rate monitor. Of course she's pulled it off. "It sounds like it. And from the looks of it, he wants Jane to prove Renfrew's innocence. We think he's targeting him."

Ronnie blinked. "Messy."

"Yeah."

She couldn't believe how close Jane was to Red John. He must be ecstatic. She wished she could be there to watch him work.

He was so close.

"Yeah, so," Cho continued, suddenly shifting uncomfortably again. "Jane's following up an angle and he and Lisbon and Rigsby are currently in the process of blackmailing the Renfrews."

What the heck.

"I need to lay down." She couldn't believe she was missing all the fun.

Cho jumped up from his perch to help her back into the bed, as though she'd been mortally wounded. She slapped his hands away. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I just hate this stupid hospital."

He didn't blame her.

She looked better than that morning, but still drawn and pale. The doctor had said it wasn't likely that she'd slept properly in weeks.

Cho had no problem believing that.

"I'll be good after lunch, Cho. Thanks." Ronnie curled up under her blankets, careful of the needle in her arm. Weariness washed over her all over again.

What a crummy day.

He let her hold onto his jacket.

The MENTALIST

Cho showed up to get her discharged from the hospital that evening.

Finally feeling able to stand without getting dizzy, Ronnie had been standing at reception when he arrived, and one look at him told her everything she needed to know.

Kimball Cho was pissed.

The skin around his eyes was bright red. His shoulders were taught with anger, his fists clenched. She stayed clear of him while he dealt with the nurses and doctors and provided her CBI insurance card. He signed her release papers without a word, then turned to finally face her.

At the innocent confusion on her tired face, some of his exasperation seeped away. There was an undeniable comfort and feeling of home about being back with his partner. "Let's go." he extended an arm to her, placing a gentle hand at the middle of her back to make sure she was steady.

It wasn't until they were in the parking lot that she faced him, waiting silently for an explanation.

He knew she wanted one.

Groaning to himself, Cho put his hands through his hair, and then met her eyes. Mouth set in a hard line, he just started shaking his head. "We got Renfrew out. He played us."

Pacing with frustration, Cho left her to lean against his car while he blew off steam. Fury, worse than he'd ever shown towards her, had him all bunched up and explosive. She'd never seen him like that before. "He got away. Disappeared in a crowd. Just--gone."

She could see him kicking himself. It scared her and angered her at the same time. Cho wasn't one to drop the ball. He never did things halfway. He never would have just let a felon go. "What happened to your face, Cho?"

He fell still, shoulders slouching. "He hit me with a cup of coffee. Right in the eyes. That's when he ditched."

That cup of coffee must have been scalding for it to still have a mark on his face.

Rage burned in her throat like bile rising and she forced it down. He needed some perspective before he started kicking his own windows out.

Ronnie got off his car, no longer able to abide him punishing himself. She caught his elbow as he punched at the air. "Dude."

Torturing himself, he met her eyes. He almost looked like he was begging for some sort of vindication.

Losing herself for a moment, Ronnie's fingertips ghosted over the inflamed skin above his cheekbones. It was hot and rubbery to the touch, like her own burned palm.

He took a deep, bracing breath at her touch. His dark eyes delved into hers, waiting.

"You got hit," She said it with a one-shouldered shrug. "You didn't screw up."

"I let him get away." Cho argued.

She'd kill Renfrew for what he did. For what he'd done to Cho's head.

"You got hit. He got away." She lowered her hand to his arm. "Are you okay?"

He gripped her arm back, appearing to accept her words. "Yeah, I'm okay." He unlocked his car and helped her in, then went around to the driver's side.

As he settled in, still terse at himself, Ronnie picked at the sleeves of his jacket that she still wore. "Thank you for picking me up."

"How are you feeling?"

"Good enough to help you guys finish."

It was a lie. She felt like she'd been run over by a truck. Sleeping all day had never been so exhausting.

"Lisbon won't let you. We're not officially working anyway. She said to take you home." Cho turned on the A/C.

A little part of her was relieved. "You'll let me know how it ends?"

At her tiny, sheepish voice, Cho actually smiled. "I will."