A/N: I tried hard with this. Dunno how it will be because it's three in the morning.



It's funny how the body deals with feelings. It's funny how it can feel an emotion, as if it was something physical. The way it could slam into you and steal from you, take away your breath, take away the blood in your veins and replace it with itself, a poor substitute for the body. It's funny how you can feel so, so cold from just a feeling. That it has the power to take hold of your own little, insignficant world and throw it, throw it and smash it, break it. All the while, you're too busy standing there frozen, to take control. And when your body allows you to move again, when you are somewhat yourself again, it's too late to take control.

The dread hit Teresa Lisbon like a ton of bricks. Her body, that had been transformed back into something of her old self, sagged, her fingers too weak to hold the phone which clattered soundlessly to her desk. Horror began to invade her, wrapping her up in it's cold, causing tremors to shake through her. Her palms began to sting and she looked down, to realise that her nails were digging deeply into her skin. Her mouth was dry, but she could tase the wetness of blood, caused by the biting of her lip.

How could he..what am I gonna do...video, god-how alcohol robs you of sanity and then destroys you later! How could he do this-why can't he leave me alone, what am I going to do?

Her brain was in a marathon, running miles per second, and she mushed her hands against the sides of her head, trying to get her brain to get it together, because she couldn't think, and she needed to, she needed to get it together, needed to work it out. It was too loud in here, was she screaming the thoughts now? Her ears were vibrating, her heart was hammering against her chest, the clock on the wall was too loud-had it always been that loud? Why didn't someone fix that? It was too hot in here-why was she sweating, wasn't it winter? Teresa let out a strangled whimper from her abused lips, choking on the last sounds of it.

That video. Why had she let him talk her into it? Why were human beings so cruel to get what they wanted? Why couldn't he leave her the hell alone? She stared at the phone, her eyes wide as she took it all in, the predicament she was in and what was at stake. She couldn't think too rationally right now, she needed time to come to terms with the fact that her life was over. That the power she had, had been taken from her. Her freedom has been so wrongfully taken from her, and she was, she was a lot of things. She was too broken to be pissed, but she could feel the anger forming. She now had to make a choice, and no matter what choice it would ultimately destroy her. She was going to help kill herself. If she let that video get out, who knows the consquences of what could happen? Her job would be at stake, she would lose everything she had worked for, and she would lose the respect of her friends. She would always be branded by that video, it would own her no matter what she did. And she would lose a very important part of her-her dignity. No, Teresa Lisbon was a proud woman.

Which meant she would have to stay with Jeff and he might very well kill her. And if he didn't, then she would very well wish he would. To not only be beaten but to live in fear of being beaten-to have to watch every thing you did, every word you said. And even that might not be enough to save you. Going back to this she would lose a part of herself she treasured-but at least she could do it without no one else ever knowing, and that bought some comfort to her, and that's what she would hold onto.

Teresa stared at the phone for a couple of hours, ignoring phone calls and the piles of folders on her desk. She sat still and rigid for so long that her body began to ache with cramps, telling her that she needed to stretch. Teresa began to pace her small office. Her hands were shaking, and her legs felt like they were going to cave in. The desire to curl up in here under her desk was so strong and compelling that Lisbon walked over to it a couple of times, touching it. But the very real possibility that someone could walk in and see her always stopped her, and she would contine to pace with her shaky hands and legs.

The door suddenly opened and Lisbon turned, her heart slamming against her chest before stopping altogether, causing her to wheeze loudly. A shaking hand flew to her throat, eyes widening as her body took in the scene and began to relax as it realised she was in no danger. Her scared eyes met Patrick Jane's. He was holding a cup in one hand, while his other remained on the doorknob. His eyes popped at Lisbon's unsual reaction, and seconds past before anyone spoke.

"Did I..scare you?" Patrick finally asked, disbelief colouring his tone. Lisbon removed her hand and started pacing again.

"I...no, you startled me. I was deep in thought. Stop doing that." Her words were rushed, and she hopped they were too rushed to be able to hint anything to Jane.

"Mm..hmm. Alright then. Here's your coffee." He inched fowards carefully, not wanting to startle her because Lisbon looked, well, she looked wrong. That was the best way of describing it. He continued to look at her, noticed her slightly shaking hands, and the way her eyes darted around nervously. She was, Lisbon was a woman scared.

And this scared Patrick.

"You okay?"

"Peachy! Thanks for the coffee-probably had too much, can't you tell? Haha. How's your day going? Mine is going fine. Okay, nice chatting!" She waved at him, clearly dismissing him but he was not done yet. He would never be done with her.

"Lisbon talk to me."

"I need to concentrate! Gotta get back into my mojo." Patrick raised his eyebrows, biting his lip as he tried to study her. As she paced around the table, his eye caught something-a small cell phone. Patrick inched closer to that, keeping his eyes on Lisbon.

"Lisbon," he murmured softly. She stopped mid flight, finally turning to look at him. Her smile was now gone, her lips pursed and her eyes shooting out sparks. He was surprised that he wasn't on fire.

"Leave me alone! Why can't you just leave me alone? Nobody cares what the fuck I want! It's just-it's all about you isn't it? God!" She fumed, before continuing to pace. Patrick looked at her, then the phone, and then her once more.

"I can't leave you alone, but. I'm worried for you." He whispered. Lisbon just laughed, turning from him. He reached for the phone and pocketed it safely in his jeans.

"Well leave me alone-it's what I want." She finally stopped, breathing heavily, looking confused. Jane watched her, expression calculating as he tried to think how to handle this. Lisbon looked so distressed though that he decided to just do what she wanted.

"Alright then." he held up his hands in mock surrdender, giving her a smile. She breathed a laugh, her face crinkling in relief, and Patrick Jane slipped out of the room, patting his pocket as he did so.