11It's been quite a while since I've written anything and this is my first Mentalist fic. It'll probably only be two or three chapters since I'm horrible with multi-chapter stories. Hope you enjoy it.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Just a heads up: I'm the worst updater in the history of fanfiction...in the interest of full disclosure.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The ride back to the CBI was quiet. He could feel her gaze shift to his face numerous times, but she remained silent. For that he was grateful. For the first time in a long time he couldn't get his thoughts in order. His memory palace was in ruins and he was scrambling to erect it again before the panic and anxiety, the unwelcome guests that had accompanied the return of his memories, completely overtook him.
Before he knew it they were back, but he could hardly move from his seat. It seemed that now that he could recall all the tragic events that his mind had refused to admit after his near death experience, he couldn't seem to remember how to perform basic movements, like opening a car door.
He felt her hand on his arm, lightly pulling him from the vehicle and guiding him into the building.
When he was finally settled on his couch, he watched as she turned to head to her office. He suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He didn't know what he was feeling, only that watching her walk away from him was causing a panic to well up in him like he had never experienced. His previously numb limbs sprang to life as overwhelming fear spurred him into action.
He grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.
"Don't leave me." That pathetic whimpering voice was his own. He cringed and knew that these actions would come back to haunt him, but he couldn't help it. In this moment he needed her and the shame could be dealt with later, when he didn't feel as though his world was falling apart.
Then her hands were on his face, forcing his eyes to meet hers. His pain-filled eyes met hers and he was surprised to find hers glistening with tears.
"Jane," she said, pleading with him to focus on her eyes, her words, and not the panic. "Jane, look at me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here."
She lowered herself to the couch beside him and placed her arms around him.
"I'm here."
She was moving her hand up and down his arm, calming him down, anchoring his fragile mind to something he knew, something he trusted. For the last couple days his mind had been playing cruel tricks on him and he just needed something solid to cling to. He needed her, his constant.
He could already feel himself withdrawing from her though. His mind and body needed her, but they were traitors to his cause, to everything he stood for. As his old personality regained dominance, the protective emotions that he had fostered over the years since his wife's death began to take over. He couldn't allow himself to need anybody, and here he was clinging to her like a frightened child.
This wouldn't do, but he would deal with it later. Right now he needed her. He knew he was being a selfish bastard. He knew that he was relying on her unwavering loyalty. He knew that he was taking when he had no intention of giving, no matter how much he wanted to give.
His memories from the past few days were hazy, but her friendship, her vague, supportive presence was always there. At this moment in time, she was everything to him; everything that held him up when heavy, burdensome memories were returning with ferocity, threatening to drag him under.
He just needed a few more minutes. A few more minutes in her arms, feeling her surrounding him with peace before the walls could go back up.
"Jane?" He felt her warm breath against his cheek.
"Yeah?"
"Do you…did everything come back?"
His heart felt heavy, but it also felt relieved. He was himself again.
"Every bit of it."
He felt her nod, accepting that her plan, for better or worse, had worked. That she had him back.
He stayed where he was for about ten minutes. He knew he was being too comfortable around her, accepting something he had no right to accept.
He pulled away from him and stood up.
"Well, thank you Lisbon." He looked around the bullpen, anywhere but at her.
"What?" The confusion was evident in her voice.
"Thank you for what you did. I'm clearly myself again and now we can move on from the unfortunate experience that was the last few days. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant…for either of us, from what I can remember."
She continued to stare at him, only now the confusion was being replaced by something else…pain. Her own pain now caused him confusion. Shouldn't he be seeing relief? Shouldn't she be glad to just put it all behind her? Shouldn't she be glad to get her consultant back to focusing on cases instead of the perverted lifestyle he'd reverted to living over the last couple days?
A though occurred to him, one that he rarely allowed himself to consider. Maybe she cared more than he realized. Maybe she felt the same need for him that he did for her. It was crazy, but maybe... What was the use anyway? So what if she did? Why did he have these walls in the first place? So that no one, him or anyone else, could be hurt again. He knew his own defence mechanisms inside and out: the purposes they served, the people they protected. For a while now though, he had felt as though they were all functioning purely for her benefit, the woman he had unfortunately come to love.
Yes, he loved her. How could he not? She was his whole world apart from his need for revenge. She was a one-woman support system. He needed her desperately, in a way that he had no right to. He had already accepted that even if he did catch Red John, he would go on working here forever simply because he couldn't imagine his life without her. That wasn't fair to her though. She didn't need him the way that he needed her. She was strong, could survive anything. And for the good of everyone being drawn into his standoff with Red John, he had to appear as though he could do the same. He couldn't afford to drop the persona, even around her. His presence in her life spelled out danger with a capital D and he knew he'd never be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to her.
Even if she did want him, he couldn't even promise her that he'd give up on his plan. He could only promise part of himself even if that part of him was wholly devoted to her, it was still just a part of a whole, attached to dark and vengeful part of him that she would never accept.
He glanced again at the woman who had come to mean so much to him; looked at the inexplicable hurt painted across her face.
Suddenly that pain disappeared, hidden behind…nothing. Her eyes were hauntingly vacant. For the first time he couldn't read those expressive orbs that were finding their way into his thoughts quite often as of late.
"You're welcome," she said, before standing and striding out of the bullpen.
Damn it! How had she let this happen?
She half ran back to her office, needing to get away from him. He had dismissed her.
Maybe he could recover that quickly for the horrible events of the last few days, he barely seemed to remember half of them, but how could she, who had suffered through every minute of them, and was now forced to live with the memories…how could she recover? How was she supposed to move beyond the events, and more importantly, the realizations that they had moved her to?
She hadn't known the extent of her feelings for her consultant before that moment when she pulled his nearly lifeless body from the river.
The tears had been unexpected. Caring for Jane was something she had done almost from the very beginning. He had been such a pathetic mess, still was mostly. He was more than what he projected to the world. She had known that from that start and had ached for him. That pity had turned into caring, and a fierce loyalty that she felt for everyone she took under her wing. When that friendship had evolved into love, she couldn't say. But it had, and now she was forced to admit to herself that she was now living a pathetic existence in which she loved someone who was clearly emotionally incapable of ever returning that love.
If the last couple days hadn't happened, would she even have known?
It was only when he had told her that he was giving up the CBI, and his place on her team, that she had felt it. What she felt in that moment could hardly be described. A part of her had almost accepted that they never would catch Red John, that Jane would never get his revenge and that they would hang in a bizarre balance that consisted of him living unsatisfied and consequently making her life hectic…for as long as they both shall live.
Oh God, she really had begun to live her life as though Jane would be around, in some way, shape or form, forever. Was that twisted or what? And when she had been faced with the possibility of a life without him, the bottom had dropped out of the illusion and she was faced with going back to living a life where no one had really known or understood her. Jane might have been using her, sticking by her side for purely selfish motives, but she had still taken his place in her life, and the role that he was unwittingly fulfilling, for granted. She knew he cared about her and she had begun to rely on that. But she had forgotten that despite what they meant to each other, Red John and his dead family would always take precedence.
Where did that leave her?
Why bother to ask when she already knew. It left her right where she was before. As hard as it might get at times, she would continue to stand by him, fight the battle with him, and when the day finally came when everything ended, be it in a bloodbath or with a mercifully painless arrest...well, she'd still be here, hopefully he would be too. She might not survive if he wasn't.
TBC...
This wasn't edited, so sorry about the mistakes.
I'd love to hear your thoughts.