Ricochet (19/25)
Chapter Nineteen
"You look stressed," Jane remarked when he answered the door to Lisbon. That was the way their relationship stood now, and it had done ever since he had spent that time living with her. There was no need for them to indulge in formalities; they just got straight down to business. Besides, they both knew each other so well that there was no need for them to waste time with words. Jane knew that nobody had known him quite as well as Teresa Lisbon, and he secretly relished in the emotional intimacy. Still, despite this being the day he was saying goodbye to his brother, he couldn’t help but be more than a little concerned for her. After all, it was rare that he saw his consultant looking quite so harried; usually she was fairly good at keeping her emotions under check.
"I'm fine," she answered back, unsurprisingly ignoring his comment on her appearance. "You okay?"
Jane nodded and stood to one side to let her into his apartment. Lisbon quietly said her thanks and together, they headed towards the kitchen, much like they always did whenever she found an excuse to visit him. And as always, she had the decency not to comment on the state of his new home; it was barely furnished and hardly anything indicated that it was actually lived in. Even the few boxes of possessions he owned were still firmly packed away. He said he didn’t have time to do it, but in reality, it was probably more a fear of giving himself some proper roots to live by. Still, Jane could acknowledge that a small part of himself liked that he had somewhere to truly call home. This, in theory, could become his own little sanctuary and escape from the world. Jane had noticed how at peace Lisbon had appeared in her home, and maybe, this was his chance to emulate that. And if nothing else, it was a step up from a long-stay motel room, if only just. In silence, Jane prepared them each a cup of tea. This situation felt awkward and he was beginning to regret requesting her company for the funeral once again. It was a burden she didn't need, especially when she had to contend with her father. Anyone who knew Lisbon knew that their relationship was fractious. He could read it in her eyes.
"What time is the funeral?" Lisbon asked as they took a seat in his lounge.
"11,” he replied quietly. “We'll be picked up in half an hour."
"Okay."
He let out a ragged sigh. Over the past week or so, he had been pretending that this day wouldn't happen. He just couldn't deal with the idea that his sweet younger brother had died and his body stashed in a morgue, on ice, for the past week. It felt foreign, wrong. The only time he was meant to deal with places like that was when he had to view a body or autopsy of a murder victim to assist with a case. The very thought of Edward being in the same place still felt inconceivable and unnatural. But all too soon, the day of the funeral had been thrust upon him so he had to face the stark reality of it all. His brother was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t moved onto a better place as some people liked to believe; his life was simply over. It was a natural process of life, but that wasn’t enough to stop it from hurting like hell, though.
In some ways, Jane was still grateful he had something tangible to cling onto for the cause of death. Cancer was a word that had thought and meaning. While it was devastating, people understood and dealt with it accordingly. Edward had received appropriate treatment for his condition, but it simply hadn’t been enough to save his life. His death wasn't senseless and pointless, like the homicides that Jane had spent his life solving. He understood the pain and terror of not having those answers, for not knowing the reason why a love one’s life had come to an end. Jane still didn't know who was responsible for his mom's death, how they had fled from the car crash alive even before the authorities made it onto the scene and how they couldn't have had the conscience to turn themselves in. The injustice of the world weighed heavily on his shoulders; it was why, sometimes, he believed that death row was too good for some criminals. They tore people's lives apart and did irreparable damage. What good was killing them in return in the name of justice? If the person in question did have some sort of conscience, then it merely cut short the guilt. And if they didn’t, then death row simply cleared space for more criminals to fill their place. Ultimately, life rolled on whether or not somebody got their ‘justice’ or ‘punishment’ or not. It didn’t really make a difference in the scheme of things. The Jane family was evidence enough of that.
His mind strayed promptly back to Lisbon when she reached out and allowed her fingertips to graze against his thighs. She smiled softly and he wondered, not for the first time, just how she could be so level-headed after such tragedy. Unlike so many people who lost it after the murder of a loved one, she seemed so controlled. She didn't want to kill Red John with her bare hands, nor did she break down any time he killed again. Of course, if the serial killer murdered somebody and slipped through their fingers, she showed signs of stress and frustration, but that was entirely human. What she didn't do was vow to take things too far. She was always the epitome of patience and calm. But, her father did press her buttons wrong. Even Jane wasn't capable of getting under her skin in the same way. He couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to be so stressed this morning, whether they had argued or he had done something else. Jane trusted her to talk if she needed to, but she also had a habit of bottling things up. That always made things that little more difficult.
"How do you do it?" Jane suddenly asked, ignoring the rapidly cooling tea in his hands. He wasn't quite sure what made him ask, but he felt the desperate need to do so. After all, the question had been burning in his mind for such a long while now.
"Do what?" she asked. For once, he had her confused and Jane didn't know whether to feel proud of finally being able to do it or ashamed at what he was doing. But some parts of Teresa Lisbon remained completely and utterly confusing to him and Jane couldn't help but be intrigued. After all, she was such a fascinating person anyway.
"Be so calm in the face of adversity. You've been through so much and yet here you are, absolutely fine."
“Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Lisbon asked with a wry smile.
“It’s my brother’s funeral today. Humor me.”
She laughed a hollow sort of a laugh. "Believe me, I'm not fine Jane. I just look like I can cope."
"I don't believe you."
"It's the truth. If you had seen me two years ago, you'd have found me unrecognizable."
Jane looked at her somewhat skeptically. The sun was illuminating her features; her pale skin contrasting perfectly with her dark hair. Piercing green eyes stared back at him and all he could think was just how beautiful she looked in that instant. She wasn't smiling, she just looked pensive but that didn't matter. Jane swallowed. He wasn't meant to be having thoughts like that about his consultant. And besides, the timing was all wrong. They were about to attend a funeral; he was about to honor his deceased brother after his death. Instead, he had found himself thinking about Teresa Lisbon and what she meant to him.
"Oh really?" Jane said, gently teasing her and trying to rid his mind of inappropriate thoughts as a consequence.
Briefly, she looked as though she was considering what her next response should be. Jane couldn't imagine her being anything but like what she was at this minute. Even when she first joined the CBI and was assigned to his unit, she had been completely professional and almost too sensible. It was only because he vaguely remembered her practicing as a psychic that he believed she was indeed the wife and mother of Andrew and Eva Lisbon respectively. In the silence of many long and lonely nights, Jane researched the woman. He had to have a lot of respect for her; she could do things that he could only dream of. Unfortunately, the interception of the serial killer Red John had entirely stunted her creativity. It was like she was scared to do anything now for fear of the repercussions. Of course, that meant she was easily controllable but sometimes, he wished she displayed herself in the way that she used to.
"Yes, really,” she asserted and momentarily, he was stunned by just how forceful her words were. “Besides, a woman has gotta keep a few secrets, hasn't she?"
"Hmm that sounds like a challenge to me." Jane smiled broadly; it was the first true smile he had dared to do all day. The depression and sense of foreboding of what was to come had left him feeling low. And this was precisely why he needed her company far more than he needed Tommy's or Daniel's.
Lisbon raised an eyebrow slightly in response to his statement. "Well, it is if you want it to be."
"I'll work you out yet, Teresa. Just you wait."
"We'll..." she started but stopped at the abrupt knock at the door.
Jane was the one who ended up getting up to answer it. As expected, they were being picked up to go to the funeral itself. He shivered slightly. It was a blazing hot day and yet, he felt as though he might as well have been sitting in a freezer.
"Shall we?" Lisbon asked, breaking his reverie.
Before doing anything else, he swept her up into a tight hug. As she usually was in this kind of situation, she was initially reluctant to return the gentle embrace. Eventually, she settled into it and responded tentatively. The feel of her hand against the small of his back was immediately warming and Jane wished that they could stay like this forever.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"It's nothing," she replied, and although he knew he wouldn't be able to correct her, he also knew she was entirely wrong. This wasn't ‘nothing’ to worry about; it was above and beyond the call of duty.
They traveled to the funeral in silence and Lisbon didn't leave his side, not for an instant. The moment that Jane saw his brothers, he could feel their judging eyes on him. This was the first time they had met Lisbon although he had spoken of her - and always in an admiring tone - on more than one occasion. Without introduction, they both figured out who she was before she even had the chance to say hello to them. Jane also knew that they both believed that she shouldn't have been there at all. Although both Tommy and Daniel had expressed an interest in meeting the famous Teresa Lisbon, it was clear that they believed that the timing was completely wrong. They thought she was intruding on their grief rather than doing anything of benefit to any of them. He hadn't warned them that he was bringing her; he knew they would object, hence his evasive behavior around the subject prior to the event. Later, he would try and explain to them how and why her presence was necessary for him. For now, they would merely have to deal with their internalized rage. Jane was convinced that they would get over it eventually anyway.
The funeral itself was a beautiful affair. Daniel had done an exceptional job at organizing it and Jane couldn't have found fault, even if he had wanted to. It was held at the Catholic Church which Edward had attended before his terrible disease had prevented him from doing so. Even in his darkest hours, he had clung onto his faith; something which Jane couldn't quite wrap his head around. But then, Edward hadn't been quite so emotionally scarred by the loss of their parents as Jane had been. And where Jane had renounced all faith, Edward had only submersed himself further into it. He didn't judge him for it - how could he? - but that didn't stop him from questioning why they had reacted so differently in the wake of tragedy. After all, they were both products of the exact same upbringing and all four siblings had been forced to endure the father's wrath for in excess of two years. Although being in a church felt a little uncomfortable for Jane, he could appreciate that it was appropriate for his deceased brother. That was one of the very few reasons that Jane had been capable of biting on his tongue and not commenting on the overtly religious aspects of the ceremony. It was one of the last few things that Jane could do to respect the memory of Edward.
The sheer size of the congregation surprised Jane too; much of their family had been able to make it, along with numerous friends of Edward's, many of whom Jane didn't know. It didn't matter that they were flung far and wide across the length and breadth of the USA, they had all made the concerted effort to attend. Lisbon sat quietly beside him, allowing him to cling onto her hand as if his life depended upon it. She didn't complain once, just like usual; she always knew precisely what he needed. Nobody asked who Lisbon was, though several people sent curious glances in their direction. Jane assumed that they believed the chronically single Patrick Jane had finally found a beautiful woman - a soul mate - to settle down with and not before time, either. And for now, Jane didn't even care what they assumed about the pair of them. His relationship with his consultant was his own business and they could come to all the incorrect conclusions they liked. All he could do was hope that she didn't feel too uncomfortable by it all. That was the only thing of concern for him; after all, he was the one to thrust her into this predicament.
Typically, the wake was when the trouble began. Tommy started to kick off about Lisbon's presence and even the fact that his 14 year old daughter, Annabeth, was utterly mortified wasn't enough to stop the youngest Jane sibling from speaking his mind. Even though they were eventually capable of smoothing things over for now, Jane was humiliated. It was not for himself, but for Lisbon instead. She insisted she was fine and that she understood the behavior, but he couldn't entirely believe her. Even if she was telling the truth, he was more than content with feeling like this on her behalf anyhow. For the first time, he was beginning to regret his decision to bring her along; he should have been man enough to be able to handle something as routine as a funeral without a personal babysitter. But then, even at work, Minelli regularly implied that Lisbon had had a calming influence on him and that her role within the unit was sometimes reduced to reining him in. It didn't seem to bother either of them; almost as soon as she was assigned to the unit they had naturally fallen into their assigned roles. He watched as she entertained Annabeth with a simple card trick or two. Sometimes, he wished he could offer her more as a lead agent and a friend. But, Patrick Jane had always been a broken man and there wasn't much he seemed capable of doing about that. Doctors offered all manners of diagnoses, but he just didn't take them seriously. It wasn't that he disrespected their skills and training; he was just inherently a bad patient. That was yet another thing he had inherited from his father. Sometimes, it scared him just how much that he resembled the monster that man had become when he looked in the mirror. And more than that; Jane knew that they were very similar people on the inside as well. Some people said that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Therefore, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was really completely in denial about their similarities or apparent lack thereof when it came to personality.
"Hey," Lisbon whispered softly when she had finished with Annabeth. "I missed a couple of calls from Cho. I'm just going to see what he wants and then I'll be straight back."
"Hmm, it might be important, “Jane conceded. It irked him a little that Cho hadn't been ringing him, but he also knew why they had made the decision to only bother him personally in an utter emergency. But, he was the boss, ergo, Jane always felt like it was his right to know first.
"Yeah. Hopefully not though," she agreed as she started to dial Cho’s number. “It’s likely to be nothing. He probably just wants some advice on trance states or something.”
"Let me know anyway?"
"Would I even dare do anything but?" she answered back with a smirk.
Jane shook his head, but of course he knew she would tell him if she absolutely needed to. However, the problem was that he knew she had a tendency of being overprotective. He didn't want her to avoid informing him of something simply because it was a difficult moment in time for him. After all, they had been in situations like this before; by default, his job just wasn't an easy one. Killers didn't work on a schedule, and especially not one that suited the cops who specialized in homicide investigations the best. By hiding things from him, even for what was perceived as being the right reasons, it would inevitably only do more harm than good. Lisbon especially had a tendency to be evasive with information whenever she thought it best; it was clear that she had once been a mother. And of course, he appreciated that she had his best interests at heart, but it had been such a long while since he had last had to deal with a mother-like figure. Readjusting to such a relationship was difficult at the best of times and besides, their relationship had been far more complicated than that from the offset.
Over the past year and a half he had spent working with Lisbon, Jane had slowly found her taking up an increasing amount of his thoughts as a consequence. Initially, he had told himself it was only natural; they worked long hours together in a confined space. When exposed to such a working relationship, people stopped thinking of their coworkers as friends and acquaintances, and began to think of them as a surrogate family. He rationalized it as being something of a necessity for his consultant; barring her father and the complex relationship that they shared, she had nobody else in the world watching her back. The team provided her with the emotional support that she had never known she needed and couldn’t get from anywhere else. And as long as she needed him, Jane was more than happy to fight for her. At least, that was what he told himself. Jane was simply too scared to think of any alternative.
When she wound herself back through the crowds of people talking animatedly and reminiscing about his younger brother, Lisbon looked incredibly harried. It didn't take a mind reader to figure out that something bad had happened. Going by the shake of her hand as she slipped her cellphone back in her jacket pocket and the frown between her eyebrows, Jane easily whittled it down to two scenarios. Naturally, they were either Red John or something to do with her father. On every other occasion, it had always boiled down to one of those two issues with her. She rarely confided in other people about other problems; Lisbon had always preferred to keep them to herself. He closed the distance between them, not even bothering to apologize to his ancient aunt who had somehow managed to make her way to Sacramento all the way from Chicago. The poor old woman had merely tried to strike up a conversation with her eldest nephew, but he obviously had far more important things to worry about at that specific moment in time. Lisbon didn't say a word when he approached, but Jane didn't need her to. The issue definitely wasn't her father; she would have already excused herself before he’d had a chance to speak if it was. As much as he knew she was here purely to lift his spirits, if something more important cropped up, then she would have had to leave. This, obviously, required the attentions of the pair of them rather than solely her.
"Red John?" Jane asked quietly and she nodded in response.
"It was called in half an hour ago. Cho only realized it was him when they arrived at the scene of the crime."
Jane's heart sank. He had to leave his own family's loss and heartbreak only to go and inflict it on another. And worse, as it was Red John, he couldn't help but feel cynical about the hope of offering this new family some sort of justice. If people stopped killing one another, he would be out of a job, but the world would become a far safer place to live. More than anything, the timing was what made him feel all the worse. Red John had been eerily quiet for almost three months now, an unsettling reprieve of sorts, and coincidentally, it had been since Lisbon's father had had his accident. Jane couldn't help but momentarily question it; it was almost as though the serial killer had known that Lisbon and the team were getting over one disaster and he thought they should replace it with another. At least Rigsby's stay in hospital had been short-lived, even though he had some killer bruises left to tell the tale.
But, that didn't change the fact that they had to leave and right at this very moment. Even though he wasn't willing to admit to it, not for an instant, a small part of Jane was grateful for the excuse to leave early. It got them both away from this unbearable storm which was brewing.
Once again, they traveled in silence and again, the silence was pregnant with thought. This time, however, it was for very different reasons. Jane wished this nightmare was over. Red John had been terrifying the state of California for too long now. Each time that somebody else died at his knife, Jane found himself questioning his techniques and wondering if it was that which meant he had failed at apprehending (or preferably, killing) Red John. Then, he merely wondered if the killer was just far too clever for any one of them to catch up with him. That thought only served to depress him further.
When they arrived at the crime scene, Lisbon remained stubbornly silent and Jane didn't even bother trying to coax her back out of her shell. He had spent far too long working with her to not be aware that this was her coping mechanism in situations such as these. The place was already crawling with forensics, LEOs and the like. Behind the yellow tape, a small group of civilians peered over excitedly, desperate to find out that little more gossip about whatever the heck was going on. Schadenfreude: happiness at the misfortune of others. Crime scenes always managed to attract this ilk. It made him feel a little ill in some ways, but however he looked at it, Jane knew that the intrigue was still human nature. Regardless, he ignored them all and made a beeline straight for the coroner. He, after all, was the one who would know the most about what they were to face.
The deceased was a blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She was dressed well in a beige wrap cardigan, now ruined by the slashes and blood stains. Her body positioned underneath the perfect Red John smiley face confirmed that it was highly unlikely to be a copycat, as he was almost hoping as they headed towards this house. While walking in, Jane had already spotted a graduation photograph and a couple of books on psychiatry. This woman, he figured, without even knowing her identity, was a shrink. Jane smiled grimly. Lisbon's abilities were obviously rubbing off on him. Lisbon herself didn't appear to be paying much attention at all and Jane immediately knew that something was wrong.
"You know her," he whispered before the others came to interrupt them.
"Her name is Sophie Miller," Lisbon answered, almost blandly. "Yes, I knew her, once."
To Chapter Twenty
"You look stressed," Jane remarked when he answered the door to Lisbon. That was the way their relationship stood now, and it had done ever since he had spent that time living with her. There was no need for them to indulge in formalities; they just got straight down to business. Besides, they both knew each other so well that there was no need for them to waste time with words. Jane knew that nobody had known him quite as well as Teresa Lisbon, and he secretly relished in the emotional intimacy. Still, despite this being the day he was saying goodbye to his brother, he couldn’t help but be more than a little concerned for her. After all, it was rare that he saw his consultant looking quite so harried; usually she was fairly good at keeping her emotions under check.
"I'm fine," she answered back, unsurprisingly ignoring his comment on her appearance. "You okay?"
Jane nodded and stood to one side to let her into his apartment. Lisbon quietly said her thanks and together, they headed towards the kitchen, much like they always did whenever she found an excuse to visit him. And as always, she had the decency not to comment on the state of his new home; it was barely furnished and hardly anything indicated that it was actually lived in. Even the few boxes of possessions he owned were still firmly packed away. He said he didn’t have time to do it, but in reality, it was probably more a fear of giving himself some proper roots to live by. Still, Jane could acknowledge that a small part of himself liked that he had somewhere to truly call home. This, in theory, could become his own little sanctuary and escape from the world. Jane had noticed how at peace Lisbon had appeared in her home, and maybe, this was his chance to emulate that. And if nothing else, it was a step up from a long-stay motel room, if only just. In silence, Jane prepared them each a cup of tea. This situation felt awkward and he was beginning to regret requesting her company for the funeral once again. It was a burden she didn't need, especially when she had to contend with her father. Anyone who knew Lisbon knew that their relationship was fractious. He could read it in her eyes.
"What time is the funeral?" Lisbon asked as they took a seat in his lounge.
"11,” he replied quietly. “We'll be picked up in half an hour."
"Okay."
He let out a ragged sigh. Over the past week or so, he had been pretending that this day wouldn't happen. He just couldn't deal with the idea that his sweet younger brother had died and his body stashed in a morgue, on ice, for the past week. It felt foreign, wrong. The only time he was meant to deal with places like that was when he had to view a body or autopsy of a murder victim to assist with a case. The very thought of Edward being in the same place still felt inconceivable and unnatural. But all too soon, the day of the funeral had been thrust upon him so he had to face the stark reality of it all. His brother was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t moved onto a better place as some people liked to believe; his life was simply over. It was a natural process of life, but that wasn’t enough to stop it from hurting like hell, though.
In some ways, Jane was still grateful he had something tangible to cling onto for the cause of death. Cancer was a word that had thought and meaning. While it was devastating, people understood and dealt with it accordingly. Edward had received appropriate treatment for his condition, but it simply hadn’t been enough to save his life. His death wasn't senseless and pointless, like the homicides that Jane had spent his life solving. He understood the pain and terror of not having those answers, for not knowing the reason why a love one’s life had come to an end. Jane still didn't know who was responsible for his mom's death, how they had fled from the car crash alive even before the authorities made it onto the scene and how they couldn't have had the conscience to turn themselves in. The injustice of the world weighed heavily on his shoulders; it was why, sometimes, he believed that death row was too good for some criminals. They tore people's lives apart and did irreparable damage. What good was killing them in return in the name of justice? If the person in question did have some sort of conscience, then it merely cut short the guilt. And if they didn’t, then death row simply cleared space for more criminals to fill their place. Ultimately, life rolled on whether or not somebody got their ‘justice’ or ‘punishment’ or not. It didn’t really make a difference in the scheme of things. The Jane family was evidence enough of that.
His mind strayed promptly back to Lisbon when she reached out and allowed her fingertips to graze against his thighs. She smiled softly and he wondered, not for the first time, just how she could be so level-headed after such tragedy. Unlike so many people who lost it after the murder of a loved one, she seemed so controlled. She didn't want to kill Red John with her bare hands, nor did she break down any time he killed again. Of course, if the serial killer murdered somebody and slipped through their fingers, she showed signs of stress and frustration, but that was entirely human. What she didn't do was vow to take things too far. She was always the epitome of patience and calm. But, her father did press her buttons wrong. Even Jane wasn't capable of getting under her skin in the same way. He couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to be so stressed this morning, whether they had argued or he had done something else. Jane trusted her to talk if she needed to, but she also had a habit of bottling things up. That always made things that little more difficult.
"How do you do it?" Jane suddenly asked, ignoring the rapidly cooling tea in his hands. He wasn't quite sure what made him ask, but he felt the desperate need to do so. After all, the question had been burning in his mind for such a long while now.
"Do what?" she asked. For once, he had her confused and Jane didn't know whether to feel proud of finally being able to do it or ashamed at what he was doing. But some parts of Teresa Lisbon remained completely and utterly confusing to him and Jane couldn't help but be intrigued. After all, she was such a fascinating person anyway.
"Be so calm in the face of adversity. You've been through so much and yet here you are, absolutely fine."
“Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Lisbon asked with a wry smile.
“It’s my brother’s funeral today. Humor me.”
She laughed a hollow sort of a laugh. "Believe me, I'm not fine Jane. I just look like I can cope."
"I don't believe you."
"It's the truth. If you had seen me two years ago, you'd have found me unrecognizable."
Jane looked at her somewhat skeptically. The sun was illuminating her features; her pale skin contrasting perfectly with her dark hair. Piercing green eyes stared back at him and all he could think was just how beautiful she looked in that instant. She wasn't smiling, she just looked pensive but that didn't matter. Jane swallowed. He wasn't meant to be having thoughts like that about his consultant. And besides, the timing was all wrong. They were about to attend a funeral; he was about to honor his deceased brother after his death. Instead, he had found himself thinking about Teresa Lisbon and what she meant to him.
"Oh really?" Jane said, gently teasing her and trying to rid his mind of inappropriate thoughts as a consequence.
Briefly, she looked as though she was considering what her next response should be. Jane couldn't imagine her being anything but like what she was at this minute. Even when she first joined the CBI and was assigned to his unit, she had been completely professional and almost too sensible. It was only because he vaguely remembered her practicing as a psychic that he believed she was indeed the wife and mother of Andrew and Eva Lisbon respectively. In the silence of many long and lonely nights, Jane researched the woman. He had to have a lot of respect for her; she could do things that he could only dream of. Unfortunately, the interception of the serial killer Red John had entirely stunted her creativity. It was like she was scared to do anything now for fear of the repercussions. Of course, that meant she was easily controllable but sometimes, he wished she displayed herself in the way that she used to.
"Yes, really,” she asserted and momentarily, he was stunned by just how forceful her words were. “Besides, a woman has gotta keep a few secrets, hasn't she?"
"Hmm that sounds like a challenge to me." Jane smiled broadly; it was the first true smile he had dared to do all day. The depression and sense of foreboding of what was to come had left him feeling low. And this was precisely why he needed her company far more than he needed Tommy's or Daniel's.
Lisbon raised an eyebrow slightly in response to his statement. "Well, it is if you want it to be."
"I'll work you out yet, Teresa. Just you wait."
"We'll..." she started but stopped at the abrupt knock at the door.
Jane was the one who ended up getting up to answer it. As expected, they were being picked up to go to the funeral itself. He shivered slightly. It was a blazing hot day and yet, he felt as though he might as well have been sitting in a freezer.
"Shall we?" Lisbon asked, breaking his reverie.
Before doing anything else, he swept her up into a tight hug. As she usually was in this kind of situation, she was initially reluctant to return the gentle embrace. Eventually, she settled into it and responded tentatively. The feel of her hand against the small of his back was immediately warming and Jane wished that they could stay like this forever.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"It's nothing," she replied, and although he knew he wouldn't be able to correct her, he also knew she was entirely wrong. This wasn't ‘nothing’ to worry about; it was above and beyond the call of duty.
They traveled to the funeral in silence and Lisbon didn't leave his side, not for an instant. The moment that Jane saw his brothers, he could feel their judging eyes on him. This was the first time they had met Lisbon although he had spoken of her - and always in an admiring tone - on more than one occasion. Without introduction, they both figured out who she was before she even had the chance to say hello to them. Jane also knew that they both believed that she shouldn't have been there at all. Although both Tommy and Daniel had expressed an interest in meeting the famous Teresa Lisbon, it was clear that they believed that the timing was completely wrong. They thought she was intruding on their grief rather than doing anything of benefit to any of them. He hadn't warned them that he was bringing her; he knew they would object, hence his evasive behavior around the subject prior to the event. Later, he would try and explain to them how and why her presence was necessary for him. For now, they would merely have to deal with their internalized rage. Jane was convinced that they would get over it eventually anyway.
The funeral itself was a beautiful affair. Daniel had done an exceptional job at organizing it and Jane couldn't have found fault, even if he had wanted to. It was held at the Catholic Church which Edward had attended before his terrible disease had prevented him from doing so. Even in his darkest hours, he had clung onto his faith; something which Jane couldn't quite wrap his head around. But then, Edward hadn't been quite so emotionally scarred by the loss of their parents as Jane had been. And where Jane had renounced all faith, Edward had only submersed himself further into it. He didn't judge him for it - how could he? - but that didn't stop him from questioning why they had reacted so differently in the wake of tragedy. After all, they were both products of the exact same upbringing and all four siblings had been forced to endure the father's wrath for in excess of two years. Although being in a church felt a little uncomfortable for Jane, he could appreciate that it was appropriate for his deceased brother. That was one of the very few reasons that Jane had been capable of biting on his tongue and not commenting on the overtly religious aspects of the ceremony. It was one of the last few things that Jane could do to respect the memory of Edward.
The sheer size of the congregation surprised Jane too; much of their family had been able to make it, along with numerous friends of Edward's, many of whom Jane didn't know. It didn't matter that they were flung far and wide across the length and breadth of the USA, they had all made the concerted effort to attend. Lisbon sat quietly beside him, allowing him to cling onto her hand as if his life depended upon it. She didn't complain once, just like usual; she always knew precisely what he needed. Nobody asked who Lisbon was, though several people sent curious glances in their direction. Jane assumed that they believed the chronically single Patrick Jane had finally found a beautiful woman - a soul mate - to settle down with and not before time, either. And for now, Jane didn't even care what they assumed about the pair of them. His relationship with his consultant was his own business and they could come to all the incorrect conclusions they liked. All he could do was hope that she didn't feel too uncomfortable by it all. That was the only thing of concern for him; after all, he was the one to thrust her into this predicament.
Typically, the wake was when the trouble began. Tommy started to kick off about Lisbon's presence and even the fact that his 14 year old daughter, Annabeth, was utterly mortified wasn't enough to stop the youngest Jane sibling from speaking his mind. Even though they were eventually capable of smoothing things over for now, Jane was humiliated. It was not for himself, but for Lisbon instead. She insisted she was fine and that she understood the behavior, but he couldn't entirely believe her. Even if she was telling the truth, he was more than content with feeling like this on her behalf anyhow. For the first time, he was beginning to regret his decision to bring her along; he should have been man enough to be able to handle something as routine as a funeral without a personal babysitter. But then, even at work, Minelli regularly implied that Lisbon had had a calming influence on him and that her role within the unit was sometimes reduced to reining him in. It didn't seem to bother either of them; almost as soon as she was assigned to the unit they had naturally fallen into their assigned roles. He watched as she entertained Annabeth with a simple card trick or two. Sometimes, he wished he could offer her more as a lead agent and a friend. But, Patrick Jane had always been a broken man and there wasn't much he seemed capable of doing about that. Doctors offered all manners of diagnoses, but he just didn't take them seriously. It wasn't that he disrespected their skills and training; he was just inherently a bad patient. That was yet another thing he had inherited from his father. Sometimes, it scared him just how much that he resembled the monster that man had become when he looked in the mirror. And more than that; Jane knew that they were very similar people on the inside as well. Some people said that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Therefore, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was really completely in denial about their similarities or apparent lack thereof when it came to personality.
"Hey," Lisbon whispered softly when she had finished with Annabeth. "I missed a couple of calls from Cho. I'm just going to see what he wants and then I'll be straight back."
"Hmm, it might be important, “Jane conceded. It irked him a little that Cho hadn't been ringing him, but he also knew why they had made the decision to only bother him personally in an utter emergency. But, he was the boss, ergo, Jane always felt like it was his right to know first.
"Yeah. Hopefully not though," she agreed as she started to dial Cho’s number. “It’s likely to be nothing. He probably just wants some advice on trance states or something.”
"Let me know anyway?"
"Would I even dare do anything but?" she answered back with a smirk.
Jane shook his head, but of course he knew she would tell him if she absolutely needed to. However, the problem was that he knew she had a tendency of being overprotective. He didn't want her to avoid informing him of something simply because it was a difficult moment in time for him. After all, they had been in situations like this before; by default, his job just wasn't an easy one. Killers didn't work on a schedule, and especially not one that suited the cops who specialized in homicide investigations the best. By hiding things from him, even for what was perceived as being the right reasons, it would inevitably only do more harm than good. Lisbon especially had a tendency to be evasive with information whenever she thought it best; it was clear that she had once been a mother. And of course, he appreciated that she had his best interests at heart, but it had been such a long while since he had last had to deal with a mother-like figure. Readjusting to such a relationship was difficult at the best of times and besides, their relationship had been far more complicated than that from the offset.
Over the past year and a half he had spent working with Lisbon, Jane had slowly found her taking up an increasing amount of his thoughts as a consequence. Initially, he had told himself it was only natural; they worked long hours together in a confined space. When exposed to such a working relationship, people stopped thinking of their coworkers as friends and acquaintances, and began to think of them as a surrogate family. He rationalized it as being something of a necessity for his consultant; barring her father and the complex relationship that they shared, she had nobody else in the world watching her back. The team provided her with the emotional support that she had never known she needed and couldn’t get from anywhere else. And as long as she needed him, Jane was more than happy to fight for her. At least, that was what he told himself. Jane was simply too scared to think of any alternative.
When she wound herself back through the crowds of people talking animatedly and reminiscing about his younger brother, Lisbon looked incredibly harried. It didn't take a mind reader to figure out that something bad had happened. Going by the shake of her hand as she slipped her cellphone back in her jacket pocket and the frown between her eyebrows, Jane easily whittled it down to two scenarios. Naturally, they were either Red John or something to do with her father. On every other occasion, it had always boiled down to one of those two issues with her. She rarely confided in other people about other problems; Lisbon had always preferred to keep them to herself. He closed the distance between them, not even bothering to apologize to his ancient aunt who had somehow managed to make her way to Sacramento all the way from Chicago. The poor old woman had merely tried to strike up a conversation with her eldest nephew, but he obviously had far more important things to worry about at that specific moment in time. Lisbon didn't say a word when he approached, but Jane didn't need her to. The issue definitely wasn't her father; she would have already excused herself before he’d had a chance to speak if it was. As much as he knew she was here purely to lift his spirits, if something more important cropped up, then she would have had to leave. This, obviously, required the attentions of the pair of them rather than solely her.
"Red John?" Jane asked quietly and she nodded in response.
"It was called in half an hour ago. Cho only realized it was him when they arrived at the scene of the crime."
Jane's heart sank. He had to leave his own family's loss and heartbreak only to go and inflict it on another. And worse, as it was Red John, he couldn't help but feel cynical about the hope of offering this new family some sort of justice. If people stopped killing one another, he would be out of a job, but the world would become a far safer place to live. More than anything, the timing was what made him feel all the worse. Red John had been eerily quiet for almost three months now, an unsettling reprieve of sorts, and coincidentally, it had been since Lisbon's father had had his accident. Jane couldn't help but momentarily question it; it was almost as though the serial killer had known that Lisbon and the team were getting over one disaster and he thought they should replace it with another. At least Rigsby's stay in hospital had been short-lived, even though he had some killer bruises left to tell the tale.
But, that didn't change the fact that they had to leave and right at this very moment. Even though he wasn't willing to admit to it, not for an instant, a small part of Jane was grateful for the excuse to leave early. It got them both away from this unbearable storm which was brewing.
Once again, they traveled in silence and again, the silence was pregnant with thought. This time, however, it was for very different reasons. Jane wished this nightmare was over. Red John had been terrifying the state of California for too long now. Each time that somebody else died at his knife, Jane found himself questioning his techniques and wondering if it was that which meant he had failed at apprehending (or preferably, killing) Red John. Then, he merely wondered if the killer was just far too clever for any one of them to catch up with him. That thought only served to depress him further.
When they arrived at the crime scene, Lisbon remained stubbornly silent and Jane didn't even bother trying to coax her back out of her shell. He had spent far too long working with her to not be aware that this was her coping mechanism in situations such as these. The place was already crawling with forensics, LEOs and the like. Behind the yellow tape, a small group of civilians peered over excitedly, desperate to find out that little more gossip about whatever the heck was going on. Schadenfreude: happiness at the misfortune of others. Crime scenes always managed to attract this ilk. It made him feel a little ill in some ways, but however he looked at it, Jane knew that the intrigue was still human nature. Regardless, he ignored them all and made a beeline straight for the coroner. He, after all, was the one who would know the most about what they were to face.
The deceased was a blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She was dressed well in a beige wrap cardigan, now ruined by the slashes and blood stains. Her body positioned underneath the perfect Red John smiley face confirmed that it was highly unlikely to be a copycat, as he was almost hoping as they headed towards this house. While walking in, Jane had already spotted a graduation photograph and a couple of books on psychiatry. This woman, he figured, without even knowing her identity, was a shrink. Jane smiled grimly. Lisbon's abilities were obviously rubbing off on him. Lisbon herself didn't appear to be paying much attention at all and Jane immediately knew that something was wrong.
"You know her," he whispered before the others came to interrupt them.
"Her name is Sophie Miller," Lisbon answered, almost blandly. "Yes, I knew her, once."
To Chapter Twenty