Ricochet (15/25)
Chapter Fifteen
In two months, it felt like everything had changed, but at the same time, nothing much had happened at all. While Lisbon’s father’s health improved dramatically, she knew that Jane’s brother’s health was deteriorating. He didn’t implicitly speak to her about it, but she could tell by his actions and words. But then, she couldn’t judge him for it; she didn’t consult him about her father’s progress either. It was just one of those things; for now they had common suffering, but found themselves being pulled in opposite directions. If Lisbon could have changed anything about the situation, she would have. But for now, all she could do was pray for her father, Jane and the rest of Jane’s family.
Somehow, Jane had found the time to get new lodgings too. He had taken up a modest apartment not too far from her townhouse. Sometimes, they shared lifts to work, but more often, they just met up there. Lisbon enjoyed having the space back to herself once again, but she also found that she was missing him dreadfully. There had been something pleasant about having somebody to come home with each and every day. They had both known how to make sure they had space from each other; Jane had often taken to lingering in the CBI’s attic space, presuming that nobody else knew it was there. Of course, that was a lie, but Lisbon respected him enough for the most part to avoid going up there herself. Only when he fell into a particularly depressive state about what was happening to his family did she dare go up there and drag him back down to the land of the living. She knew better than most that brooding about the inevitable and the unchangeable only made things worse in the long run.
However, Jane's predicament wasn't currently at the forefront of her mind. It seemed that her spare bedroom wasn't going to remain empty for too long. Her father had applied himself diligently to everything the doctor had asked him to do. That had surprised Lisbon; usually whenever people of power told him to do something, he generally behaved contrarily. She was entirely grateful that he had realized that everything they did for him was for the greater good. If nothing else, it meant that his life would be a lot easier instead of him finding himself entirely reliant on other people - and in chronic pain - for the rest of it. But now, he was ready to be discharged, but he still needed supervision. And thus, that was where she came in.
Without having to pay, she was literally the only person who he had left. She couldn’t turn him away in his hour of need; it would be too unchristian for her. Besides, childhood conditioning constantly reminded her that he had played a pivotal role in her life. He’d been her father, her mentor, her manager, her chaperone and many other (and occasionally, less pleasant) things besides. The recent years he’d been absent hadn’t disappeared instantly; she could still feel the pain she had suffered during them in her every movement and motion. However, when it came to her personal relationship with her dear old dad, it had. And that was why she was in her spare room, fussing over just how appropriate it was for him now. She was worrying that it wouldn’t live up to his standards. At least he hadn’t broken either of his legs during his accident; that would have made hosting him… difficult. Not that he wouldn’t be difficult anyway, mind. Lisbon’s relationship with her dad had never been an easy one. And at least his return was merely a temporary one.
A small voice in the back of her mind immediately argued that point. Maybe he would stick around and maybe he would decide to live with her again permanently. Maybe, Mr. Jason Hamilton would take one look at his daughter and decide that she still needed him, possibly even more than she had ever done so in the first place. That was something that she most certainly wouldn’t have put past him. Immediately, her heart sank. If only one good thing had come out of the death of her family, it was that she had simultaneously been able to take control of her life. Lisbon enjoyed being free to decide where she lived, with whom she socialized, how she used her skills, what job she specialized in and many more things besides. As much as she had loved her husband, even he had been chosen by her father to a certain extent. It had just been fortuitous for Lisbon that he hadn’t been as ‘perfect’ for her in Mr. Hamilton’s eyes as he’d first appeared at face value.
After all, the grandson of carnival royalty had hated the circuit just as much as she had. Until the moment they had fled in the dead of the night, he had acted like the model carnie brat. He fleeced marks out of their money seemingly without a second thought, charmed the women, entertained the babies, performed his ‘magic’ tricks and worked hard with the animals. Jason Hamilton liked and respected him as a kid, and liked the familial connections even more. After all, the Hamiltons weren’t naturally born carnie folk. It had been her father’s tenacity, alongside her own skills, that had allowed them to tag along and learn a few of their deepest secrets. Behind the scenes, however, she and Andrew stole moments together, sharing illicit kisses and hatching outlandish plans to leave. Lisbon had been the only one to see that her future husband hated their lifestyle, and she’d liked it that way. It had broken her heart when her father had outfoxed them and joined them back in the civilian world.
But Andrew Lisbon was gone, even if she still clung onto his surname. Her father was not. And, as a consequence, he was her priority now. Jane had even kindly graced her with the day off to prepare, and to pick him up too. Even if the Serious Crimes Unit were required for a case, she wouldn’t be called for assistance unless it was absolutely necessary, meaning, Red John. Despite how he appeared at face value, Lisbon knew that she was blessed with a genuinely understanding boss who was happy to give any of his subordinates time off whenever they needed it the most. In reality, she knew she couldn’t have been luckier in that respect. With the CBI, she had really fallen on her feet and unbeknownst to Jane and his team, they had helped put her back together again. She hadn’t been in the right mindset when she had initially joined them, but now, she was fine. One day, when her fears of stigmatizing felt irrelevant, she would thank them for all that they had done. For now, she was happier to keep her past private. Barring a few necessary details to explain just how she had picked up her skills, she liked to keep her relationship with her colleagues entirely professional. It was just easier for everyone concerned, that way.
By the time she arrived at the hospital, Lisbon found that she was getting increasingly agitated. She had thought she had mentally prepared for this moment, but clearly, she was wrong. Every single time she had visited her father here, he had found one reason or another to judge her. If it wasn’t her job, then it was her clothes, and if it wasn’t that it was her diet, her exercise regime, her friends (or lack thereof), or the fact that she now associated on regular basis with the police. Although Jason Hamilton had never directly crossed the path of law enforcement, he had inherently picked up the stigma and hatred of the law from the circuit. All carnies hated police officers, lawyers, DAs and everyone in between. It was easily explained: if not illegal, their work was at the very least morally dubious. She was dreading days, weeks, months, however long he stayed, of him pulling her lifestyle to shreds. Already it felt like it was inevitable that he would try and take control over her from the moment he stepped out of the hospital and into her SUV.
But it was too late now. She had made a promise and she was going to keep it.
Feigning a cheerful smile, Lisbon approached his doctor and, as she had several months earlier, shook his hand with a firm grip. He then led her to his office where he updated her on the requirements of her father after he’d been discharged. Much of it was pretty rudimentary; the only sticking point she could see was the possibility of trying to persuade him that the routine check-ups he’d been scheduled for were actually necessary. The physiotherapy ones too, for that matter; after all, he’d probably regard a physiotherapist on much the same level as he would a doctor. But he was going to go, because he was going to make a full recovery and he was going to vacate her spare bedroom as soon as he did so. All that was left to do was hope that her resolve wouldn’t crumble when they actually got into the routine of him living with her once again.
“I’ve been waiting hours,” Jason grumbled the moment that she approached. “And this is what is supposed to be my loving daughter. My only flesh and blood, all I have left in the world-“
“Dad,” Lisbon cut in and she glared at him. She’d already had enough of his lies and hyperbole. Besides, she could feel the doctor glancing between the pair of them skeptically. They both knew she wasn’t late in the slightest; if anything, she was a little early. “I promised I would be here at 1pm. It’s 11.28am.”
“If I’d had my own way, I would have left five weeks ago.”
“You were in no fit state to leave then.”
“And your opinion on that, Dr. Whitson?” he asked, ignoring her and looking straight at his doctor. It was probably the first time she had ever seen him actually ask a doctor for his opinion.
“I agree with your daughter,” Dr. Whitson answered smoothly and her father’s mouth fell agape in disgust. “But I’m very happy to see you’re looking much better.”
“Hmph.”
“Come on,” Lisbon said soothingly. “It hasn’t been that bad, they’ve looked after you. Hell, this man even saved your life. You owe them something.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” the doctor answered, clearly embarrassed by the praise. “You must feel the same in your line of work.”
“As I already told you, I don’t close cases; I merely assist.”
“Yet, you were also capable of convincing my wife to stop smoking. Something I am infinitely grateful for.”
Lisbon could feel herself blushing slightly at the praise. It was nothing, really, and she wouldn’t have even done it if her dad hadn’t mentioned she had skills in hypnosis to the doctor. It wasn’t that she minded doing such work, but, as far as she was concerned, it was too linked to her past as a charlatan, a fraud, a fake psychic. She had alienated herself as much as feasibly possible from her background and she really wanted it to stay that way. But, at least it was something that actually had positive results; it wasn’t that she was lying to make a quick buck. And she most certainly wasn’t running away when they realized they had been fooled out of their cold, hard cash either.
But her father was getting agitated again. She didn’t even need to look at him to realize that this was annoying him, but it came from knowing him so well. Still, she respected the doctor enough to let him say his piece, even if he didn’t. As she had told him earlier, he’d saved her father’s life. If he couldn’t appreciate that, then she was going to have to do it for him.
“So have you two finished gossiping and can I actually leave now?”
“Just another couple of minutes, Mr. Hamilton,” Whitson answered smoothly. “We need to update you on-“
“And you couldn’t have told me before Teresa got here?”
Lisbon rolled her eyes. Then, the doctor seized the opportunity to tell his patient exactly what he’d told her minutes earlier. As she expected, the man reacted with abject horror to the idea of having to come to and from the hospital a couple of times a week for several weeks, just for therapy. When the check-up appointments were added on top of it, he looked like he wanted to punch the man. It seemed like he had thought he could take whatever pills they threw at him and run into the sunset, and never face this place again. But she knew he was going to be hard work, he always had been.
Eventually they left and he was still complaining. Lisbon ignored most of his comments, quite frankly, she didn’t even care. They had far bigger issues to work out. Such as, where the heck he’d been since her family had been brutally killed by Red John.
xxx
It started off as a normal enough morning. Or at least, it was as normal as any morning for Patrick Jane could be. He wasn’t abruptly awakened by a phone call from Director Bertram, Minelli, or even an ADA or a member of his team. He did, however, have the same old trouble getting to sleep - and the same startled reaction when he’d woken up two hours later and momentarily forgotten that he had moved into his own private apartment. But insomnia was an age-old demon for Jane, and as far as he was concerned, those two hours were far better than nothing at all. He’d been able to get up, shower, eat some breakfast and take the leisurely drive into work.
At work, he stopped by the empty bullpen for a second. Lisbon had the day off due to her father’s discharge from hospital, but Jane couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at the sight of her empty desk. When he had first moved out of her home, he found that he missed her terribly despite seeing each other almost daily at work. Even now, he was still adjusting to the fact that they had two different homes to go to. It was funny, but part of him felt safer with her nearby. He hadn’t felt that way about anybody since he was twelve years old.
The morning was uneventful. He had a meeting with Minelli about their current cases, much to his dismay. However, Minelli always managed to keep these occasions short and sweet, but only provided that he hadn’t royally screwed up any cases lately. As the only ongoing investigation was Red John and his murder house, there were no issues whatsoever and he was free to leave comparatively early. Except, he felt like he could almost do with the distraction of an arduous meeting, one where he only had his wits to defend his good name. The office walls were beginning to close in on him; his whole team was beginning to go slowly mad. This was the issue with having so many bored individuals within close proximity to one another. They all really needed some sort of entertainment just to ensure that monotony never dared to seep in.
In the end, Jane got his wish for a break to the monotony. Or at least, it was a break for him, alone. But, it was also the phone call that Patrick Jane was dreading the most arrived at precisely 11.37am and his heart sank when he heard Tommy’s tearful voice. Edward’s health had taken a sharp decline, and apparently he had just been moved onto palliative care and given a matter of hours to live. Without a word to anyone but Cho and Minelli, he immediately left. Suddenly, he found himself inordinately grateful for the simple fact that they currently didn't have a case in their hands; it made things a hell of a lot easier on him. Despite the fact Jane knew he could trust Cho to fill in for him, they still simply couldn't operate with both a lead agent and consultant down. It would be too stressful; the members of his unit would be stretched too far. And of course that wouldn't be fair on both his team and the deceased and their family. Their ability to close cases would be compromised and thus, it would diminish the chances of closing the proverbial case and bringing another killer to justice.
But, even if they had gotten a new case, he would have left anyway. This was an emergency and sometimes, family just had to come first. Even though he had a tendency to avoid his brothers and their petty squabbling, he still loved them all dearly. He would never forgive himself if he didn't make it in time now. That was why he wasn’t bothering to waste any time on this journey now.
He pushed his dear little Citroen to the very limit of what it could achieve. It was a design classic and Jane knew that he was very lucky to own it. Even so he couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t let him down now. Then again, it had always been a good runner and he’d been absolutely fine with it until now. On one memorable occasion, when he’d been operating undercover, he had managed to chase down a drugs’ dealer who was guilty of murder and arrest him in the thing. And this time around, Jane didn't even care if he got a speeding ticket; it wouldn't have been the first time.
Jane’s heart thrummed erratically in his chest. He had always known that this day would come sooner or later; Edward's cancer was terminal. However, there were drugs that could prolong life and keep him comfortable. Terminal didn't always necessarily mean imminently. Jane and his brothers had all hoped that they would be able to keep hold of their brother for just a bit longer than this. After all, they had only just gotten to the stage where they could be in the same room and actually be glad of each other’s’ company rather than just being civil for Eddie’s sake. Damn it, he was too young to die. Coincidentally, he was the same age their mom had been when she had died in that fatal car crash. That thought settled uneasily in the forefront of his mind, just as it had done when Daniel had told him that Edward had taken a turn for the worse. Now that it was there, Jane found it virtually impossible to shake again.
He pressed harder on the gas pedal, urging the little blue car to go just that bit faster than it already was. It was ironic; considering what had happened to his parents, he should really have learned from their mistakes. All three of his younger siblings had to a certain extent, though it obviously hadn’t done Edward any good in the long run. Instead, Jane had eschewed the responsibilities of fatherhood and chosen to live recklessly, just like their father had done. His job alone was a risk in itself. That was why he had always avoided marriage too; he didn't want a wife who would suffer the heartache of losing her husband. Jane had witnessed first-hand just how damaging becoming a widower could be at any given age. First, he had lost his maternal grandmother, leaving his grandfather desolate. Then, there was his mom and the disaster that had occurred following that. Besides, it was easier on his conscience this way. Of course his brothers would miss him terribly if he died - his coworkers and especially Lisbon too - but there were no dependents for him to cripple.
While everyone had been getting along better since Edward's diagnosis, there were still major arguments between the four of them. He'd hoped that they would be capable of sticking together and standing beside one another. It wasn't the first time the Jane family had been faced with a major tragedy. Jane had managed to pull his brothers together back then, despite his tender years at the time. But, this time, he seemed to be failing dismally. They may have all been living in the same state once again but it wasn't enough to close the gap between all four of them. Not one of them could seem to agree what type of treatment was most suitable for their ailing sibling. What Tommy thought was best, Daniel found ludicrous. Then Edward - the actual patient in this sorry scenario - disagreed again. For the most part, Jane tried to avoid having an opinion; as far as he was concerned, Edward's choice was the one that had the most weight. Instead, tried to soothe tempers and encourage them to see it from one another's point of view. Somehow, whatever he said just made it all the worse. Still, he had to be grateful that they were all actually talking again; that was a small mercy in itself.
Once again, Jane felt like his life was a mess. He was being pulled in so many different directions. If he spent too much time focusing on work - a blessed distraction from all the familial drama - then his brothers turned on him instead of each other for a change. But then, if he spent too much time tending to Edward or trying to stop the other two from killing each other, then his boss raised an eyebrow and Jane himself felt like he was failing at work. After all, Red John's murder house had delivered them twenty-seven bodies and each family needed to be informed of their loss. Even worse, in Jane's honest opinion, some of them had yet to be identified due to the state of decomposition. In some ways, losing a loved one to a dreadful illness was easier. Jane had his answers, unlike when his mom had died. Unlike poor Lisbon too, who was in the same state as these newly emerged relatives. Cancer may have been an utter bastard, but at least it was explainable. And with a disease such as that, you couldn’t wage war on it, or threaten to kill it in return. All that could be done was find suitable treatments and then, help fund charities to find the cure.
About halfway into his journey, Jane’s cellphone started to ring, but he couldn’t justify stopping to answer it. Then, the ringing became persistent but Jane continued to ignore it. He could imagine the irate messages from Daniel and Tommy without hearing them anyway. They would claim that he'd been irresponsible, loitering at work for so long. They would insinuate that he cared more about the dead bodies whose murders he was investigating over his own flesh and blood. They would try and guilt-trip him for not spending Edward's final living hours beside his bed. But, while Jane knew he was cutting it fine, he also knew that it should be okay. This drive, however, was driving him insane. That was why all he could think about was the past and what could be happening right now. One of these days, he swore his imagination could kill him. Sometimes it was far too vibrant and macabre.
Edward Jane had been moved to a beautiful hospice approximately three hours from Sacramento, if the traveling was good. At the moment the roads were clear, and Jane was relieved. Still, as beautiful as it was and as fantastic as the nurses were, Jane couldn't help but feel a little bit bitter about the distance; there were many equally great places that Edward could have stayed in in Sacramento alone. If Edward had settled a little closer to the state capitol of California, then maybe he would have been able to visit more frequently. Even though Jane was more than comfortable traveling long distances by car or plane - his job took him across the length and breadth of California - sometimes, it was just too much. He just couldn't justify traveling for three hours there and then back again after a long shift at work. It just wasn't physically possible. But this had been what Edward had wanted, so who was Jane to judge? He was as happy as he could be, given his imminent demise and lived equidistant from Daniel and Tommy. They had more spare time to spend with him, anyway. So, all Jane could do was be grateful that he was in the same state. If he had still lived in Illinois as he has done five years ago, then this mad dash to the hospice just wouldn't be possible. Even though Minelli understood the importance of family, he wouldn't have been able to spare him for an indefinite stretch of time.
Despite being in a rush, Jane did spend a minute stretching after he got out of his car at the hospice. His back ached after the long ride; three hours without stopping was more than enough for anybody. He had already noticed that both Tommy and Daniel’s cars were parked up nearby. Then, he made his way in. Usually, the building was very cheerful, despite it being a place where people lived up until their deaths. The staff always did an excellent job at keeping people’s spirits up and never dwelled upon the negative aspect of their work. However, on this occasion, the utterly polite and professional receptionist looked upon him with watering eyes. Already, he felt a spasm of fear rush through him. When she ushered him to the manager’s office, he felt his knees shake. Jane didn’t need to be a psychic (fake or otherwise) to know what was going on. Usually, they just waved a cheerful ‘hello’ to him and encouraged him to go right on through.
Nervously, Jane knocked on the closed door. Normally, he wasn’t inclined to knock once inside a building, but he knew he was just trying to delay the inevitable. He couldn’t help it; it was human nature.
“Mr. Jane, please take a seat,” the manager said, indicating to the chair opposite her.
“I’d rather not,” he answered back. “Please, just tell me what’s happened.”
“Patrick…” the woman started, already resorting to the use of forenames in order to inject a more personal bond into the situation. It was a tactic he had often used in order to get criminals to confess. However, he knew that she was trying to do it to make the bitter pill just that easier to swallow. “I’m so sorry, but your brother passed away an hour ago.”
To Chapter Sixteen
In two months, it felt like everything had changed, but at the same time, nothing much had happened at all. While Lisbon’s father’s health improved dramatically, she knew that Jane’s brother’s health was deteriorating. He didn’t implicitly speak to her about it, but she could tell by his actions and words. But then, she couldn’t judge him for it; she didn’t consult him about her father’s progress either. It was just one of those things; for now they had common suffering, but found themselves being pulled in opposite directions. If Lisbon could have changed anything about the situation, she would have. But for now, all she could do was pray for her father, Jane and the rest of Jane’s family.
Somehow, Jane had found the time to get new lodgings too. He had taken up a modest apartment not too far from her townhouse. Sometimes, they shared lifts to work, but more often, they just met up there. Lisbon enjoyed having the space back to herself once again, but she also found that she was missing him dreadfully. There had been something pleasant about having somebody to come home with each and every day. They had both known how to make sure they had space from each other; Jane had often taken to lingering in the CBI’s attic space, presuming that nobody else knew it was there. Of course, that was a lie, but Lisbon respected him enough for the most part to avoid going up there herself. Only when he fell into a particularly depressive state about what was happening to his family did she dare go up there and drag him back down to the land of the living. She knew better than most that brooding about the inevitable and the unchangeable only made things worse in the long run.
However, Jane's predicament wasn't currently at the forefront of her mind. It seemed that her spare bedroom wasn't going to remain empty for too long. Her father had applied himself diligently to everything the doctor had asked him to do. That had surprised Lisbon; usually whenever people of power told him to do something, he generally behaved contrarily. She was entirely grateful that he had realized that everything they did for him was for the greater good. If nothing else, it meant that his life would be a lot easier instead of him finding himself entirely reliant on other people - and in chronic pain - for the rest of it. But now, he was ready to be discharged, but he still needed supervision. And thus, that was where she came in.
Without having to pay, she was literally the only person who he had left. She couldn’t turn him away in his hour of need; it would be too unchristian for her. Besides, childhood conditioning constantly reminded her that he had played a pivotal role in her life. He’d been her father, her mentor, her manager, her chaperone and many other (and occasionally, less pleasant) things besides. The recent years he’d been absent hadn’t disappeared instantly; she could still feel the pain she had suffered during them in her every movement and motion. However, when it came to her personal relationship with her dear old dad, it had. And that was why she was in her spare room, fussing over just how appropriate it was for him now. She was worrying that it wouldn’t live up to his standards. At least he hadn’t broken either of his legs during his accident; that would have made hosting him… difficult. Not that he wouldn’t be difficult anyway, mind. Lisbon’s relationship with her dad had never been an easy one. And at least his return was merely a temporary one.
A small voice in the back of her mind immediately argued that point. Maybe he would stick around and maybe he would decide to live with her again permanently. Maybe, Mr. Jason Hamilton would take one look at his daughter and decide that she still needed him, possibly even more than she had ever done so in the first place. That was something that she most certainly wouldn’t have put past him. Immediately, her heart sank. If only one good thing had come out of the death of her family, it was that she had simultaneously been able to take control of her life. Lisbon enjoyed being free to decide where she lived, with whom she socialized, how she used her skills, what job she specialized in and many more things besides. As much as she had loved her husband, even he had been chosen by her father to a certain extent. It had just been fortuitous for Lisbon that he hadn’t been as ‘perfect’ for her in Mr. Hamilton’s eyes as he’d first appeared at face value.
After all, the grandson of carnival royalty had hated the circuit just as much as she had. Until the moment they had fled in the dead of the night, he had acted like the model carnie brat. He fleeced marks out of their money seemingly without a second thought, charmed the women, entertained the babies, performed his ‘magic’ tricks and worked hard with the animals. Jason Hamilton liked and respected him as a kid, and liked the familial connections even more. After all, the Hamiltons weren’t naturally born carnie folk. It had been her father’s tenacity, alongside her own skills, that had allowed them to tag along and learn a few of their deepest secrets. Behind the scenes, however, she and Andrew stole moments together, sharing illicit kisses and hatching outlandish plans to leave. Lisbon had been the only one to see that her future husband hated their lifestyle, and she’d liked it that way. It had broken her heart when her father had outfoxed them and joined them back in the civilian world.
But Andrew Lisbon was gone, even if she still clung onto his surname. Her father was not. And, as a consequence, he was her priority now. Jane had even kindly graced her with the day off to prepare, and to pick him up too. Even if the Serious Crimes Unit were required for a case, she wouldn’t be called for assistance unless it was absolutely necessary, meaning, Red John. Despite how he appeared at face value, Lisbon knew that she was blessed with a genuinely understanding boss who was happy to give any of his subordinates time off whenever they needed it the most. In reality, she knew she couldn’t have been luckier in that respect. With the CBI, she had really fallen on her feet and unbeknownst to Jane and his team, they had helped put her back together again. She hadn’t been in the right mindset when she had initially joined them, but now, she was fine. One day, when her fears of stigmatizing felt irrelevant, she would thank them for all that they had done. For now, she was happier to keep her past private. Barring a few necessary details to explain just how she had picked up her skills, she liked to keep her relationship with her colleagues entirely professional. It was just easier for everyone concerned, that way.
By the time she arrived at the hospital, Lisbon found that she was getting increasingly agitated. She had thought she had mentally prepared for this moment, but clearly, she was wrong. Every single time she had visited her father here, he had found one reason or another to judge her. If it wasn’t her job, then it was her clothes, and if it wasn’t that it was her diet, her exercise regime, her friends (or lack thereof), or the fact that she now associated on regular basis with the police. Although Jason Hamilton had never directly crossed the path of law enforcement, he had inherently picked up the stigma and hatred of the law from the circuit. All carnies hated police officers, lawyers, DAs and everyone in between. It was easily explained: if not illegal, their work was at the very least morally dubious. She was dreading days, weeks, months, however long he stayed, of him pulling her lifestyle to shreds. Already it felt like it was inevitable that he would try and take control over her from the moment he stepped out of the hospital and into her SUV.
But it was too late now. She had made a promise and she was going to keep it.
Feigning a cheerful smile, Lisbon approached his doctor and, as she had several months earlier, shook his hand with a firm grip. He then led her to his office where he updated her on the requirements of her father after he’d been discharged. Much of it was pretty rudimentary; the only sticking point she could see was the possibility of trying to persuade him that the routine check-ups he’d been scheduled for were actually necessary. The physiotherapy ones too, for that matter; after all, he’d probably regard a physiotherapist on much the same level as he would a doctor. But he was going to go, because he was going to make a full recovery and he was going to vacate her spare bedroom as soon as he did so. All that was left to do was hope that her resolve wouldn’t crumble when they actually got into the routine of him living with her once again.
“I’ve been waiting hours,” Jason grumbled the moment that she approached. “And this is what is supposed to be my loving daughter. My only flesh and blood, all I have left in the world-“
“Dad,” Lisbon cut in and she glared at him. She’d already had enough of his lies and hyperbole. Besides, she could feel the doctor glancing between the pair of them skeptically. They both knew she wasn’t late in the slightest; if anything, she was a little early. “I promised I would be here at 1pm. It’s 11.28am.”
“If I’d had my own way, I would have left five weeks ago.”
“You were in no fit state to leave then.”
“And your opinion on that, Dr. Whitson?” he asked, ignoring her and looking straight at his doctor. It was probably the first time she had ever seen him actually ask a doctor for his opinion.
“I agree with your daughter,” Dr. Whitson answered smoothly and her father’s mouth fell agape in disgust. “But I’m very happy to see you’re looking much better.”
“Hmph.”
“Come on,” Lisbon said soothingly. “It hasn’t been that bad, they’ve looked after you. Hell, this man even saved your life. You owe them something.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” the doctor answered, clearly embarrassed by the praise. “You must feel the same in your line of work.”
“As I already told you, I don’t close cases; I merely assist.”
“Yet, you were also capable of convincing my wife to stop smoking. Something I am infinitely grateful for.”
Lisbon could feel herself blushing slightly at the praise. It was nothing, really, and she wouldn’t have even done it if her dad hadn’t mentioned she had skills in hypnosis to the doctor. It wasn’t that she minded doing such work, but, as far as she was concerned, it was too linked to her past as a charlatan, a fraud, a fake psychic. She had alienated herself as much as feasibly possible from her background and she really wanted it to stay that way. But, at least it was something that actually had positive results; it wasn’t that she was lying to make a quick buck. And she most certainly wasn’t running away when they realized they had been fooled out of their cold, hard cash either.
But her father was getting agitated again. She didn’t even need to look at him to realize that this was annoying him, but it came from knowing him so well. Still, she respected the doctor enough to let him say his piece, even if he didn’t. As she had told him earlier, he’d saved her father’s life. If he couldn’t appreciate that, then she was going to have to do it for him.
“So have you two finished gossiping and can I actually leave now?”
“Just another couple of minutes, Mr. Hamilton,” Whitson answered smoothly. “We need to update you on-“
“And you couldn’t have told me before Teresa got here?”
Lisbon rolled her eyes. Then, the doctor seized the opportunity to tell his patient exactly what he’d told her minutes earlier. As she expected, the man reacted with abject horror to the idea of having to come to and from the hospital a couple of times a week for several weeks, just for therapy. When the check-up appointments were added on top of it, he looked like he wanted to punch the man. It seemed like he had thought he could take whatever pills they threw at him and run into the sunset, and never face this place again. But she knew he was going to be hard work, he always had been.
Eventually they left and he was still complaining. Lisbon ignored most of his comments, quite frankly, she didn’t even care. They had far bigger issues to work out. Such as, where the heck he’d been since her family had been brutally killed by Red John.
xxx
It started off as a normal enough morning. Or at least, it was as normal as any morning for Patrick Jane could be. He wasn’t abruptly awakened by a phone call from Director Bertram, Minelli, or even an ADA or a member of his team. He did, however, have the same old trouble getting to sleep - and the same startled reaction when he’d woken up two hours later and momentarily forgotten that he had moved into his own private apartment. But insomnia was an age-old demon for Jane, and as far as he was concerned, those two hours were far better than nothing at all. He’d been able to get up, shower, eat some breakfast and take the leisurely drive into work.
At work, he stopped by the empty bullpen for a second. Lisbon had the day off due to her father’s discharge from hospital, but Jane couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at the sight of her empty desk. When he had first moved out of her home, he found that he missed her terribly despite seeing each other almost daily at work. Even now, he was still adjusting to the fact that they had two different homes to go to. It was funny, but part of him felt safer with her nearby. He hadn’t felt that way about anybody since he was twelve years old.
The morning was uneventful. He had a meeting with Minelli about their current cases, much to his dismay. However, Minelli always managed to keep these occasions short and sweet, but only provided that he hadn’t royally screwed up any cases lately. As the only ongoing investigation was Red John and his murder house, there were no issues whatsoever and he was free to leave comparatively early. Except, he felt like he could almost do with the distraction of an arduous meeting, one where he only had his wits to defend his good name. The office walls were beginning to close in on him; his whole team was beginning to go slowly mad. This was the issue with having so many bored individuals within close proximity to one another. They all really needed some sort of entertainment just to ensure that monotony never dared to seep in.
In the end, Jane got his wish for a break to the monotony. Or at least, it was a break for him, alone. But, it was also the phone call that Patrick Jane was dreading the most arrived at precisely 11.37am and his heart sank when he heard Tommy’s tearful voice. Edward’s health had taken a sharp decline, and apparently he had just been moved onto palliative care and given a matter of hours to live. Without a word to anyone but Cho and Minelli, he immediately left. Suddenly, he found himself inordinately grateful for the simple fact that they currently didn't have a case in their hands; it made things a hell of a lot easier on him. Despite the fact Jane knew he could trust Cho to fill in for him, they still simply couldn't operate with both a lead agent and consultant down. It would be too stressful; the members of his unit would be stretched too far. And of course that wouldn't be fair on both his team and the deceased and their family. Their ability to close cases would be compromised and thus, it would diminish the chances of closing the proverbial case and bringing another killer to justice.
But, even if they had gotten a new case, he would have left anyway. This was an emergency and sometimes, family just had to come first. Even though he had a tendency to avoid his brothers and their petty squabbling, he still loved them all dearly. He would never forgive himself if he didn't make it in time now. That was why he wasn’t bothering to waste any time on this journey now.
He pushed his dear little Citroen to the very limit of what it could achieve. It was a design classic and Jane knew that he was very lucky to own it. Even so he couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t let him down now. Then again, it had always been a good runner and he’d been absolutely fine with it until now. On one memorable occasion, when he’d been operating undercover, he had managed to chase down a drugs’ dealer who was guilty of murder and arrest him in the thing. And this time around, Jane didn't even care if he got a speeding ticket; it wouldn't have been the first time.
Jane’s heart thrummed erratically in his chest. He had always known that this day would come sooner or later; Edward's cancer was terminal. However, there were drugs that could prolong life and keep him comfortable. Terminal didn't always necessarily mean imminently. Jane and his brothers had all hoped that they would be able to keep hold of their brother for just a bit longer than this. After all, they had only just gotten to the stage where they could be in the same room and actually be glad of each other’s’ company rather than just being civil for Eddie’s sake. Damn it, he was too young to die. Coincidentally, he was the same age their mom had been when she had died in that fatal car crash. That thought settled uneasily in the forefront of his mind, just as it had done when Daniel had told him that Edward had taken a turn for the worse. Now that it was there, Jane found it virtually impossible to shake again.
He pressed harder on the gas pedal, urging the little blue car to go just that bit faster than it already was. It was ironic; considering what had happened to his parents, he should really have learned from their mistakes. All three of his younger siblings had to a certain extent, though it obviously hadn’t done Edward any good in the long run. Instead, Jane had eschewed the responsibilities of fatherhood and chosen to live recklessly, just like their father had done. His job alone was a risk in itself. That was why he had always avoided marriage too; he didn't want a wife who would suffer the heartache of losing her husband. Jane had witnessed first-hand just how damaging becoming a widower could be at any given age. First, he had lost his maternal grandmother, leaving his grandfather desolate. Then, there was his mom and the disaster that had occurred following that. Besides, it was easier on his conscience this way. Of course his brothers would miss him terribly if he died - his coworkers and especially Lisbon too - but there were no dependents for him to cripple.
While everyone had been getting along better since Edward's diagnosis, there were still major arguments between the four of them. He'd hoped that they would be capable of sticking together and standing beside one another. It wasn't the first time the Jane family had been faced with a major tragedy. Jane had managed to pull his brothers together back then, despite his tender years at the time. But, this time, he seemed to be failing dismally. They may have all been living in the same state once again but it wasn't enough to close the gap between all four of them. Not one of them could seem to agree what type of treatment was most suitable for their ailing sibling. What Tommy thought was best, Daniel found ludicrous. Then Edward - the actual patient in this sorry scenario - disagreed again. For the most part, Jane tried to avoid having an opinion; as far as he was concerned, Edward's choice was the one that had the most weight. Instead, tried to soothe tempers and encourage them to see it from one another's point of view. Somehow, whatever he said just made it all the worse. Still, he had to be grateful that they were all actually talking again; that was a small mercy in itself.
Once again, Jane felt like his life was a mess. He was being pulled in so many different directions. If he spent too much time focusing on work - a blessed distraction from all the familial drama - then his brothers turned on him instead of each other for a change. But then, if he spent too much time tending to Edward or trying to stop the other two from killing each other, then his boss raised an eyebrow and Jane himself felt like he was failing at work. After all, Red John's murder house had delivered them twenty-seven bodies and each family needed to be informed of their loss. Even worse, in Jane's honest opinion, some of them had yet to be identified due to the state of decomposition. In some ways, losing a loved one to a dreadful illness was easier. Jane had his answers, unlike when his mom had died. Unlike poor Lisbon too, who was in the same state as these newly emerged relatives. Cancer may have been an utter bastard, but at least it was explainable. And with a disease such as that, you couldn’t wage war on it, or threaten to kill it in return. All that could be done was find suitable treatments and then, help fund charities to find the cure.
About halfway into his journey, Jane’s cellphone started to ring, but he couldn’t justify stopping to answer it. Then, the ringing became persistent but Jane continued to ignore it. He could imagine the irate messages from Daniel and Tommy without hearing them anyway. They would claim that he'd been irresponsible, loitering at work for so long. They would insinuate that he cared more about the dead bodies whose murders he was investigating over his own flesh and blood. They would try and guilt-trip him for not spending Edward's final living hours beside his bed. But, while Jane knew he was cutting it fine, he also knew that it should be okay. This drive, however, was driving him insane. That was why all he could think about was the past and what could be happening right now. One of these days, he swore his imagination could kill him. Sometimes it was far too vibrant and macabre.
Edward Jane had been moved to a beautiful hospice approximately three hours from Sacramento, if the traveling was good. At the moment the roads were clear, and Jane was relieved. Still, as beautiful as it was and as fantastic as the nurses were, Jane couldn't help but feel a little bit bitter about the distance; there were many equally great places that Edward could have stayed in in Sacramento alone. If Edward had settled a little closer to the state capitol of California, then maybe he would have been able to visit more frequently. Even though Jane was more than comfortable traveling long distances by car or plane - his job took him across the length and breadth of California - sometimes, it was just too much. He just couldn't justify traveling for three hours there and then back again after a long shift at work. It just wasn't physically possible. But this had been what Edward had wanted, so who was Jane to judge? He was as happy as he could be, given his imminent demise and lived equidistant from Daniel and Tommy. They had more spare time to spend with him, anyway. So, all Jane could do was be grateful that he was in the same state. If he had still lived in Illinois as he has done five years ago, then this mad dash to the hospice just wouldn't be possible. Even though Minelli understood the importance of family, he wouldn't have been able to spare him for an indefinite stretch of time.
Despite being in a rush, Jane did spend a minute stretching after he got out of his car at the hospice. His back ached after the long ride; three hours without stopping was more than enough for anybody. He had already noticed that both Tommy and Daniel’s cars were parked up nearby. Then, he made his way in. Usually, the building was very cheerful, despite it being a place where people lived up until their deaths. The staff always did an excellent job at keeping people’s spirits up and never dwelled upon the negative aspect of their work. However, on this occasion, the utterly polite and professional receptionist looked upon him with watering eyes. Already, he felt a spasm of fear rush through him. When she ushered him to the manager’s office, he felt his knees shake. Jane didn’t need to be a psychic (fake or otherwise) to know what was going on. Usually, they just waved a cheerful ‘hello’ to him and encouraged him to go right on through.
Nervously, Jane knocked on the closed door. Normally, he wasn’t inclined to knock once inside a building, but he knew he was just trying to delay the inevitable. He couldn’t help it; it was human nature.
“Mr. Jane, please take a seat,” the manager said, indicating to the chair opposite her.
“I’d rather not,” he answered back. “Please, just tell me what’s happened.”
“Patrick…” the woman started, already resorting to the use of forenames in order to inject a more personal bond into the situation. It was a tactic he had often used in order to get criminals to confess. However, he knew that she was trying to do it to make the bitter pill just that easier to swallow. “I’m so sorry, but your brother passed away an hour ago.”
To Chapter Sixteen