This picks up after the finale…Lisbon takes care of Jane's wounds. Rated M for what comes eventually. I have a 14 month old, so updates may be sporadic. I'll do the best I can, lol.
Patrick Jane sensed, rather than felt, the tug at his hand. He heard a voice, but it sounded like the adults in an old Charlie Brown cartoon, "Wah wah, wah wah wah." A sharp yank to his arm brought him back to reality.
"Sit down and let me tend to this, Jane!" Lisbon held his hand in her own, picking shards of polymer and plastic from the many gashes in his palm. Jane studied the had with a sense of detachment…geesh, that's got to hurt…wonder what happened?
Reality intruded with a bang when the alcohol splashed over the open wounds. Jane hissed and jerked his hand from Lisbon's grip. She leapt back, eyeing him warily. Jane looked at the dripping limb before returning to meet Lisbon's gaze.
" You don't remember?" He simply stared.
"Lorelei sent you a CD-ROM, from Red John. You broke it and cut your hand. I was trying to clean it for you." Lisbon reached out tentatively, gauging whether or not Jane was truly with her before taking his hand again and winding a strip of gauze around the palm. She secured the bandage with a piece of tape and turned from him to gather the first aid supplies she had used.
"She knew she was going to die."
"She knew he was going to kill her, she had no hope."
"I know, Jane."
Jane sighed, crossing the attic room to sit on the door that was serving as his bed. He studied his hand, which was beginning to throb with every beat of his heart.
"Jane?" Lisbon stood near the door, the first aid kit in her hand.
"I'm going to put this away. I'll be back in a few minutes." Jane shook his head.
"No. It's late. You should go home and rest." Lisbon returned the negative gesture.
"Not happening. You need company, whether you want it or not. If you won't let me stay with you up here, and I won't if you say no, because I promised, then I'll sleep in my office. I'm not leaving you alone after that ass did what he did. No offense, Jane, but I don't trust you to be by yourself right now. I'm worried about you."
"Right. Sorry, Jane. Not buying it. Either I stay here with you, wherever I land, or you come with me."
"Where am I going to sleep at your house?"
"I have a guest room. Or you can have my couch. I don't care. I have a spare set of clothes here, and I can shower in the locker room. I'm not picky. But I'm not leaving you alone, either." Jane knew that look. She wasn't backing down.
"Because. You're my friend, for whatever reason, and I care about you. You've had a horrible day, this clown is messing with your head, and you'd do the same for me."
"You shouldn't get too close to me, Lisbon." Jane's head was down, speech directed at the floor.
"Why not?" When she didn't get an answer, Lisbon set the kit down and crossed the room. "Jane. Jane, look at me." When he didn't raise his head, Lisbon knelt in front of him, between his spread knees.
"Jane? Why not?" No answer, but a single droplet splashing to the concrete floor between them. Lisbon looked up, seeing a shimmering streak down Jane's left cheek. He shuddered.
"He goes after people I…care about. People that matter to me. You can't get close to me. He'll hurt you. He'll do the same thing to you he did to my…to Angie and Charlotte."
"Were those their names?" Lisbon reached up to hold Jane's uninjured hand. "You never said before."
"Yes. And they died because of me. If you…" He trailed off and shuddered again. Lisbon stood, closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around the quaking shoulders.
" I'll take my chances."