FIC: stop living in the moment (1/1)
Title: stop living in the moment
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: She'd told herself time and time again to stop thinking of him.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Up to 3x08 Ball of Fire
Notes: Used prompt 037: alone on mentalistprompt . Written as a break from Big Bang. I think I deserve one every so often. Beta'd by miss_peg .
stop living in the moment
She stopped and turned.
Nothing.
Teresa Lisbon shook her head; clearly she had been hallucinating again. Gotten so caught up in her own thoughts, her own feelings that she had confused that fine line between fantasy and reality.
But she could have sworn that…
Well. Obviously she had been mistaken. There was nobody following, stalking her. Why would they bother?
Least of all Patrick Jane.
He was out of her life for good and the sooner that she accepted that simple fact as reality, the better.
Otherwise, she was only going to drive herself insane.
xxx
When she woke, his name was dying on her lips.
Normally, she forgot her dreams instantaneously. Either that or immediately placed them to one side in order to focus on the day ahead and the task in hand. If she dwelled too much on them, she wouldn't be able to work proactively and that would never do.
This time, however, she needed no prompting or reminders. The thoughts just lingered, unwelcome and stifling. Lisbon knew exactly what she was thinking about moments before she awoke. Moments before her alarm clock rudely interrupted her slumber with its altogether too cheerful tones. And why. She always knew why.
Jane.
Of course it was him, why would it be anybody else?
She'd told herself time and time again to stop thinking of him. To pretend that he didn't exist or that she had never known him in the first place. It was for her own sake as much as anyone else's.
Only thing was, her subconscious had other ideas.
And try as she might, she had no control over her dreams whatsoever.
xxx
Another day meant another crime scene.
There was no rest for the wicked. Or those who dedicated their life to catching them.
With a heavy heart and a gentle sigh, she lifted the yellow tape and ducked underneath it. Lisbon hated it whenever kids were involved; it always seemed like a pointless waste of a life. It made her dwell on their lost potential, the futility of it all.
Sooner or later, everyone died.
It just felt like sometimes, it was a little too soon.
She always wondered how her mother had felt whenever she and the doctors she worked underneath lost a patient. If it was anything remotely like what she felt when faced with a dead child.
Despite only being a nurse, her mother probably blamed herself whenever a patient lost their battle against whatever illness, whatever injury. Though she hadn't been the one ultimately responsible for them, she still had some input. It was probably where Lisbon inherited some of her martyr-like characteristics.
Still, at least her job had purpose. She was there to work out who was responsible for cutting this life tragically short.
Her eyes scanned the crime scene and she tried to make note of the little details. To read between the lines. So many times in the past, their cases were solved by a small incongruity at the scene, something that was easily overlooked. Or if not solved by it, it gave them an important lead.
Normally, Jane did that for her.
Not anymore.
Besides, she'd become too reliant on him and his skills in the past. They had lost their way a little. Lisbon told herself she was a good cop and that therefore, she had exemplary policing skills. She didn't need him and could solve this one on her own.
Like she had before they had ever been introduced.
xxx
"She looks lonely," Van Pelt remarked to no one in particular.
Three sets of eyes fixated on their boss. Lisbon was pacing around her office, only pausing occasionally to rearrange something for what seemed like the thousandth time. She remained completely unaware of her team's attention and their concern.
"She has been since Jane left," Cho answered and the others nodded in agreement,
Each one of them wished there was something they could do about it.
They also knew, short of attempting to track down Jane, there wasn't.
xxx
The hot water scalded her skin.
Lisbon ignored the slight pain and instead, lathered up some soap. She'd been horrified by the explosion, genuinely feared for her life. Especially so when the building burst into flames and it was a struggle to get out alive.
If it hadn't been for Rigsby…
She shook her head and tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, she picked up a sponge and scrubbed viciously at her skin. The smell of smoke seemed to linger, as did the stench of gasoline.
Her knees buckled and she coughed a little. Helplessness was something she was keen to avoid at all costs. You couldn't always rely on other people to help you out of sticky situations and yet, every time she had nearly burned to a crisp, that was exactly what had happened.
Without Rigsby, without Jane, she wouldn't be here.
Choking back a sob, she cursed herself for her weakness, for her emotions. For remembering the slight quiver in Jane's voice when faced with Rachel's threats, for wondering how he'd have reacted if he'd been with them earlier today.
If the outcome would have been any different.
Really, she should have been grateful that the case had been solved. That the little girl's murderer had been caught. But she couldn't think of that, couldn't see the positives in the situation simply because of all the other overriding emotions.
Salted tears streamed down her face, mixing with the water pouring from the shower head. There was nothing she could do to stop it; she would just have to let it out of her system.
Later, she was simply grateful that her humiliating outburst happened in the solitude of her own bathroom.
xxx
Spring turned to summer, summer to fall and within the blink of an eye, it was already winter again.
The wind was bitter and slicing through Lisbon's jacket with practiced ease. She stared resentfully at the balding man in his late fifties, who just had to get himself killed outside. In this kind of weather, standing by a riverside, ankle-deep in mud, was one of the last places she wanted to be. Van Pelt kept shooting furtive glances in her direction and Lisbon let out a measured sigh. She wasn't about to fall down, she was fine, if a little cold.
It was just a normal day, a normal crime scene for them.
Nothing special whatsoever.
Eventually, the coroner wrapped everything up and Lisbon thanked her for her time. They had everything they needed and it meant that the body could be left for forensics to deal with. More importantly, it meant that she could find respite in the warmth of her SUV.
It was only when she called Hightower to update her on the situation that she noticed the date.
Exactly one year ago, Red John had been apprehended. The serial killer was now on death row.
It was also the day Jane left them for good.
What did he have left to give them? He'd always made it clear that he was only helping them out until Red John had been dealt with. She thought, occasionally, that they were closer than that. That he actually saw them as some kind of dysfunctional family.
Obviously, she had been wrong.
For the first time in a very long while, she found it didn't bother her much at all.
Instead, she merely shook her head and dialed Hightower's number. She had much more important things to do instead of getting caught up in the past.
xxx
The bullpen was silent.
Lisbon wanted it that way. She was happy to be working the graveyard shift alone. It was Christmas Eve and that meant she got to avoid having the festivities unwillingly thrust upon her, something she was keen to avoid.
She barely saw her family these days and surprisingly enough, it didn't bother her in the slightest. What was the point in forcing civility for a few hours a year just because society dictated they should? Besides, crime didn't stop just because it was the holiday season. If anything, it brought out the worst in people and meant that they needed to remain vigilant.
With a sense of satisfaction, she signed off yet another form. She was pleased that they managed to close the riverside murder case so quickly; it always felt good to achieve such a resounding win. Lisbon didn't even notice the door swing open.
"Hello, Teresa."
"Jane?"
xxx
They talked non-stop for hours.
They didn't even notice as the clock hand pulled past midnight, signifying the start of Christmas Day.
It felt as though no time at all had passed since they'd last seen one another. The bitterness and resentment had washed away from the moment he said 'hello' to her.
She'd known she'd missed him, of course she had. It was something she had been altogether far too aware of until the past month or so.
Now, Lisbon was just grateful to have him back in her life.
Whatever happened to them next would be something she was willing to deal with whenever it arose.
end
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: She'd told herself time and time again to stop thinking of him.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Up to 3x08 Ball of Fire
Notes: Used prompt 037: alone on mentalistprompt . Written as a break from Big Bang. I think I deserve one every so often. Beta'd by miss_peg .
stop living in the moment
She stopped and turned.
Nothing.
Teresa Lisbon shook her head; clearly she had been hallucinating again. Gotten so caught up in her own thoughts, her own feelings that she had confused that fine line between fantasy and reality.
But she could have sworn that…
Well. Obviously she had been mistaken. There was nobody following, stalking her. Why would they bother?
Least of all Patrick Jane.
He was out of her life for good and the sooner that she accepted that simple fact as reality, the better.
Otherwise, she was only going to drive herself insane.
xxx
When she woke, his name was dying on her lips.
Normally, she forgot her dreams instantaneously. Either that or immediately placed them to one side in order to focus on the day ahead and the task in hand. If she dwelled too much on them, she wouldn't be able to work proactively and that would never do.
This time, however, she needed no prompting or reminders. The thoughts just lingered, unwelcome and stifling. Lisbon knew exactly what she was thinking about moments before she awoke. Moments before her alarm clock rudely interrupted her slumber with its altogether too cheerful tones. And why. She always knew why.
Jane.
Of course it was him, why would it be anybody else?
She'd told herself time and time again to stop thinking of him. To pretend that he didn't exist or that she had never known him in the first place. It was for her own sake as much as anyone else's.
Only thing was, her subconscious had other ideas.
And try as she might, she had no control over her dreams whatsoever.
xxx
Another day meant another crime scene.
There was no rest for the wicked. Or those who dedicated their life to catching them.
With a heavy heart and a gentle sigh, she lifted the yellow tape and ducked underneath it. Lisbon hated it whenever kids were involved; it always seemed like a pointless waste of a life. It made her dwell on their lost potential, the futility of it all.
Sooner or later, everyone died.
It just felt like sometimes, it was a little too soon.
She always wondered how her mother had felt whenever she and the doctors she worked underneath lost a patient. If it was anything remotely like what she felt when faced with a dead child.
Despite only being a nurse, her mother probably blamed herself whenever a patient lost their battle against whatever illness, whatever injury. Though she hadn't been the one ultimately responsible for them, she still had some input. It was probably where Lisbon inherited some of her martyr-like characteristics.
Still, at least her job had purpose. She was there to work out who was responsible for cutting this life tragically short.
Her eyes scanned the crime scene and she tried to make note of the little details. To read between the lines. So many times in the past, their cases were solved by a small incongruity at the scene, something that was easily overlooked. Or if not solved by it, it gave them an important lead.
Normally, Jane did that for her.
Not anymore.
Besides, she'd become too reliant on him and his skills in the past. They had lost their way a little. Lisbon told herself she was a good cop and that therefore, she had exemplary policing skills. She didn't need him and could solve this one on her own.
Like she had before they had ever been introduced.
xxx
"She looks lonely," Van Pelt remarked to no one in particular.
Three sets of eyes fixated on their boss. Lisbon was pacing around her office, only pausing occasionally to rearrange something for what seemed like the thousandth time. She remained completely unaware of her team's attention and their concern.
"She has been since Jane left," Cho answered and the others nodded in agreement,
Each one of them wished there was something they could do about it.
They also knew, short of attempting to track down Jane, there wasn't.
xxx
The hot water scalded her skin.
Lisbon ignored the slight pain and instead, lathered up some soap. She'd been horrified by the explosion, genuinely feared for her life. Especially so when the building burst into flames and it was a struggle to get out alive.
If it hadn't been for Rigsby…
She shook her head and tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, she picked up a sponge and scrubbed viciously at her skin. The smell of smoke seemed to linger, as did the stench of gasoline.
Her knees buckled and she coughed a little. Helplessness was something she was keen to avoid at all costs. You couldn't always rely on other people to help you out of sticky situations and yet, every time she had nearly burned to a crisp, that was exactly what had happened.
Without Rigsby, without Jane, she wouldn't be here.
Choking back a sob, she cursed herself for her weakness, for her emotions. For remembering the slight quiver in Jane's voice when faced with Rachel's threats, for wondering how he'd have reacted if he'd been with them earlier today.
If the outcome would have been any different.
Really, she should have been grateful that the case had been solved. That the little girl's murderer had been caught. But she couldn't think of that, couldn't see the positives in the situation simply because of all the other overriding emotions.
Salted tears streamed down her face, mixing with the water pouring from the shower head. There was nothing she could do to stop it; she would just have to let it out of her system.
Later, she was simply grateful that her humiliating outburst happened in the solitude of her own bathroom.
xxx
Spring turned to summer, summer to fall and within the blink of an eye, it was already winter again.
The wind was bitter and slicing through Lisbon's jacket with practiced ease. She stared resentfully at the balding man in his late fifties, who just had to get himself killed outside. In this kind of weather, standing by a riverside, ankle-deep in mud, was one of the last places she wanted to be. Van Pelt kept shooting furtive glances in her direction and Lisbon let out a measured sigh. She wasn't about to fall down, she was fine, if a little cold.
It was just a normal day, a normal crime scene for them.
Nothing special whatsoever.
Eventually, the coroner wrapped everything up and Lisbon thanked her for her time. They had everything they needed and it meant that the body could be left for forensics to deal with. More importantly, it meant that she could find respite in the warmth of her SUV.
It was only when she called Hightower to update her on the situation that she noticed the date.
Exactly one year ago, Red John had been apprehended. The serial killer was now on death row.
It was also the day Jane left them for good.
What did he have left to give them? He'd always made it clear that he was only helping them out until Red John had been dealt with. She thought, occasionally, that they were closer than that. That he actually saw them as some kind of dysfunctional family.
Obviously, she had been wrong.
For the first time in a very long while, she found it didn't bother her much at all.
Instead, she merely shook her head and dialed Hightower's number. She had much more important things to do instead of getting caught up in the past.
xxx
The bullpen was silent.
Lisbon wanted it that way. She was happy to be working the graveyard shift alone. It was Christmas Eve and that meant she got to avoid having the festivities unwillingly thrust upon her, something she was keen to avoid.
She barely saw her family these days and surprisingly enough, it didn't bother her in the slightest. What was the point in forcing civility for a few hours a year just because society dictated they should? Besides, crime didn't stop just because it was the holiday season. If anything, it brought out the worst in people and meant that they needed to remain vigilant.
With a sense of satisfaction, she signed off yet another form. She was pleased that they managed to close the riverside murder case so quickly; it always felt good to achieve such a resounding win. Lisbon didn't even notice the door swing open.
"Hello, Teresa."
"Jane?"
xxx
They talked non-stop for hours.
They didn't even notice as the clock hand pulled past midnight, signifying the start of Christmas Day.
It felt as though no time at all had passed since they'd last seen one another. The bitterness and resentment had washed away from the moment he said 'hello' to her.
She'd known she'd missed him, of course she had. It was something she had been altogether far too aware of until the past month or so.
Now, Lisbon was just grateful to have him back in her life.
Whatever happened to them next would be something she was willing to deal with whenever it arose.
end