the veil that keeps me blind, 14/15
Title: The Veil That Keeps Me Blind
Chapter: 14/15 (Book IV)
Notes: One more chapter to go :-)
Book IV
Chapter 14
xxxxx
Coming back to the CBI in December makes Lisbon feel a little bit like Rip Van Winkle in that when she left, it had been June, and now that she’s back, the office is decked out in colored lights and flyers are going up about holiday parties and gift exchanges. The office kept going without her; the realization is both comforting and unsettling.
Jane takes a few days off at the end of the week after Lisbon’s return, and that breaks their carefully-constructed status quo. His absence is an unexpected shock when she arrives at work to find his couch empty and no explanation. In light of him telling her that leaving was never an option, she finds his sudden truancy all too disconcerting.
Jane calls Cho late in the morning to explain that he has to take care of a few things and will be back to the office on Monday. When Cho relays the message, he adds that Jane specifically told her not to worry.
That sounds ominous, she thinks to herself. But she smiles at Cho and thanks him for talking to Jane. She ignores the slight pang in her chest that Jane did not call her directly.
Jane’s absence forces her to consider their relationship over the past few years, and particularly over the past eighteen months. From the moment the lines between colleague/friend and something more began to blur (by the time they crossed those lines for good, they had been tested in more ways than one). He said he was in love with her, and she believes him.
So the questions that she keeps putting off are: Is she in love with him as well? Does she even want to be? And if she is, what is she going to do about it?
It has been a long time since she was last in a relationship that lasted longer than a few months, and even longer since she last considered herself in love with someone.
She knows she cares for Jane; she cares for him deeply and has for years. She enjoys spending time with him. He is intelligent and passionate and charming (arrogant and volatile and dangerous, her logical brain reminds her). And in spite of her shock and surprise, she had been so happy to see him that day in San Francisco.
But her shock then had been nothing in comparison to the moment when he told her he was in love with her.
If she hadn’t been angry and confused, she might have returned his confession.
Oh, crap. I am in love with him, she realizes suddenly. This is not good.
Because no matter what he feels or what she reciprocates, they have spent too much time skirting around the issues. If there is a chance for this to work out between them, then they have to talk about what happened six months ago and clear the air. There have been too many people and too many secrets in their relationship for too long.
She would give Jane his time off. When he came back, she would be ready. This time, she would be ready.
xxx
Lisbon arrives at work on Monday with an extra bounce in her step. Her ribs have finally begun to heal, the pain subsiding to a dull ache that only flares if she breathes too deeply or makes sudden jarring movements. It is her last week of work before taking several weeks off to fly back east to spend the holidays with her brothers, and before she leaves, she is going to have this business with Jane taken care of one way or the other.
They have no active cases, so she spends the day going through case reports and her never-ending backlog of mail (two weeks later and she is still sorting through it). Although she is preoccupied with her paperwork, she takes note of the fact that Jane, back from his two day sabbatical, spends almost the entire day in the attic. She hates the idea of him brooding up there and disconnected from everyone else as much as ever, and with concern, she wonders why he has reverted back to that behavior now.
Late in the afternoon, she finally abandons the idea of waiting patiently for him to reemerge and climbs the attic stairs, determined to drag him down by his vest if she has to.
Instead of finding him lying on his makeshift bed and brooding, however, she finds him cheerfully cleaning up the attic. The bed is dismantled, his sheets and blankets neatly folded, and several leather bound journals stacked in an orderly pile. Unidentified jazz music plays in the background; Jane is holding a broom and sweeping in time with the music.
“Oh, there you are Lisbon,” Jane looks up from his task, broom still in hand. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Lisbon is taken aback. “You’ve been waiting for me?” she asks.
“Yes. I’ve been wondering when you were going to make an appearance. I thought I’d clean this old place out as I really have no need for it anymore.”
Lisbon inspects the work he’s done on the attic so far. She’s never seen it looking so clean, but she tries to suppress the hope she feels bubbling in her chest as she takes in the sight before her.
“That’s great, Jane. What brought this on?”
“It was time,” he explains with finality in his voice. He makes a large circular motion with the broom and flashes one of his most charming smiles at her. “So, what’s on your mind, Lisbon?”
She takes a deep breath to steady herself and says, “We need to talk about what happened with Red John.”
Jane’s expression sobers immediately. The broom stills in his hand.
“You say you could never hate me,” she continues, willing herself stay calm and composed, “But you wanted Red John and I took him from you. You wanted him so much that you kept an illegal gun, and you took that gun and ran off in pursuit of him without so much as telling any of us where you were going!”
“I couldn’t have told you if I wanted to,” Jane counters quickly. “If I had waited, he could have gotten away.”
Lisbon sputters indignantly at this. “And it never occurred to you that it might be a trap? Which, by the way, it was.”
“Of course it occurred to me that it might be a trap! It was worth the risk. He didn’t know I had the gun.”
“It’s never worth the risk,” she shakes her head, incredulous. “What if you had died, Jane? What if I hadn’t figured out what his messages meant and I hadn’t gotten there in time?”
Jane shrugs noncommittally. “He wouldn’t have killed me. He just wanted to threaten me. He knew about us, you know. He had your father’s firefighter’s shield. He had been in your apartment!”
“You think I don’t know that!?” Lisbon raises her voice. She is almost yelling now; her composure evaporating rapidly. “When I noticed dad’s shield was missing, I thought I was going crazy. I looked for it for weeks. When I found out that he had it all this time... I’ve thought about moving, you know. He broke into my apartment and neither one of us noticed.”
Jane leans the broom against the wall and approaches her. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder and gives her a subdued, almost forlorn look. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. “When you first discovered your father’s shield was missing, why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you look for it.”
“Because it was my father’s,” she answers; softly now, without raising her voice. “Because it was the one thing of his I kept, when we got rid of everything else.” She shrugs, his hand on her shoulder seems to burn through her blouse. “Because it was more personal than we were every supposed to get.”
Jane smiles sadly. “I wish you had told me.”
Lisbon recoils at this, withdrawing from his touch as she remembers the point she has been trying to make. She raises her voice again. “Like you told me about that gun? Where did you even get it? You say you want me to talk to you, but you still kept this from me. Trust and honesty only work if they go both ways, Jane. I mean, God, you had a gun! No one asked any questions, they just assumed it was Red John’s, but how could you do that to me?”
As she speaks, Jane’s posture goes from relaxed to rigid. “I was trying to protect you,” he says, the quiet desperation in his tone mirrored on his face. “After what happened to Kristina, I couldn’t risk you knowing anything more than you had to. And look what happened anyway! As careful as we were, Red John still found out!”
“Jane!” she exclaims, her eyes narrowing and locking on his. “How many times do I have to tell you that I can take care of myself? That I decide what I do and don’t need to know? I can’t keep having this same fight with you.”
“Then let’s not fight about it,” Jane moves closer to her, running his hand along her forearm briefly and clasping her hand in his. “It’s in the past now. Let’s just move on.”
“I want to, Jane. I do,” she admits quietly, trying to ignore her own involuntary physical reaction to his touch and proximity. “I love you,” she adds, giving his hand a squeeze before breaking the contact, “but I don’t trust you. I can’t as long as you keep doing things like this.”
Lisbon leaves him alone in the attic to finish what he started, but the look on his face when she tells him this haunts her for the rest of the evening.
xxxxx
Chapter: 14/15 (Book IV)
Notes: One more chapter to go :-)
Book IV
Chapter 14
xxxxx
Coming back to the CBI in December makes Lisbon feel a little bit like Rip Van Winkle in that when she left, it had been June, and now that she’s back, the office is decked out in colored lights and flyers are going up about holiday parties and gift exchanges. The office kept going without her; the realization is both comforting and unsettling.
Jane takes a few days off at the end of the week after Lisbon’s return, and that breaks their carefully-constructed status quo. His absence is an unexpected shock when she arrives at work to find his couch empty and no explanation. In light of him telling her that leaving was never an option, she finds his sudden truancy all too disconcerting.
Jane calls Cho late in the morning to explain that he has to take care of a few things and will be back to the office on Monday. When Cho relays the message, he adds that Jane specifically told her not to worry.
That sounds ominous, she thinks to herself. But she smiles at Cho and thanks him for talking to Jane. She ignores the slight pang in her chest that Jane did not call her directly.
Jane’s absence forces her to consider their relationship over the past few years, and particularly over the past eighteen months. From the moment the lines between colleague/friend and something more began to blur (by the time they crossed those lines for good, they had been tested in more ways than one). He said he was in love with her, and she believes him.
So the questions that she keeps putting off are: Is she in love with him as well? Does she even want to be? And if she is, what is she going to do about it?
It has been a long time since she was last in a relationship that lasted longer than a few months, and even longer since she last considered herself in love with someone.
She knows she cares for Jane; she cares for him deeply and has for years. She enjoys spending time with him. He is intelligent and passionate and charming (arrogant and volatile and dangerous, her logical brain reminds her). And in spite of her shock and surprise, she had been so happy to see him that day in San Francisco.
But her shock then had been nothing in comparison to the moment when he told her he was in love with her.
If she hadn’t been angry and confused, she might have returned his confession.
Oh, crap. I am in love with him, she realizes suddenly. This is not good.
Because no matter what he feels or what she reciprocates, they have spent too much time skirting around the issues. If there is a chance for this to work out between them, then they have to talk about what happened six months ago and clear the air. There have been too many people and too many secrets in their relationship for too long.
She would give Jane his time off. When he came back, she would be ready. This time, she would be ready.
xxx
Lisbon arrives at work on Monday with an extra bounce in her step. Her ribs have finally begun to heal, the pain subsiding to a dull ache that only flares if she breathes too deeply or makes sudden jarring movements. It is her last week of work before taking several weeks off to fly back east to spend the holidays with her brothers, and before she leaves, she is going to have this business with Jane taken care of one way or the other.
They have no active cases, so she spends the day going through case reports and her never-ending backlog of mail (two weeks later and she is still sorting through it). Although she is preoccupied with her paperwork, she takes note of the fact that Jane, back from his two day sabbatical, spends almost the entire day in the attic. She hates the idea of him brooding up there and disconnected from everyone else as much as ever, and with concern, she wonders why he has reverted back to that behavior now.
Late in the afternoon, she finally abandons the idea of waiting patiently for him to reemerge and climbs the attic stairs, determined to drag him down by his vest if she has to.
Instead of finding him lying on his makeshift bed and brooding, however, she finds him cheerfully cleaning up the attic. The bed is dismantled, his sheets and blankets neatly folded, and several leather bound journals stacked in an orderly pile. Unidentified jazz music plays in the background; Jane is holding a broom and sweeping in time with the music.
“Oh, there you are Lisbon,” Jane looks up from his task, broom still in hand. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Lisbon is taken aback. “You’ve been waiting for me?” she asks.
“Yes. I’ve been wondering when you were going to make an appearance. I thought I’d clean this old place out as I really have no need for it anymore.”
Lisbon inspects the work he’s done on the attic so far. She’s never seen it looking so clean, but she tries to suppress the hope she feels bubbling in her chest as she takes in the sight before her.
“That’s great, Jane. What brought this on?”
“It was time,” he explains with finality in his voice. He makes a large circular motion with the broom and flashes one of his most charming smiles at her. “So, what’s on your mind, Lisbon?”
She takes a deep breath to steady herself and says, “We need to talk about what happened with Red John.”
Jane’s expression sobers immediately. The broom stills in his hand.
“You say you could never hate me,” she continues, willing herself stay calm and composed, “But you wanted Red John and I took him from you. You wanted him so much that you kept an illegal gun, and you took that gun and ran off in pursuit of him without so much as telling any of us where you were going!”
“I couldn’t have told you if I wanted to,” Jane counters quickly. “If I had waited, he could have gotten away.”
Lisbon sputters indignantly at this. “And it never occurred to you that it might be a trap? Which, by the way, it was.”
“Of course it occurred to me that it might be a trap! It was worth the risk. He didn’t know I had the gun.”
“It’s never worth the risk,” she shakes her head, incredulous. “What if you had died, Jane? What if I hadn’t figured out what his messages meant and I hadn’t gotten there in time?”
Jane shrugs noncommittally. “He wouldn’t have killed me. He just wanted to threaten me. He knew about us, you know. He had your father’s firefighter’s shield. He had been in your apartment!”
“You think I don’t know that!?” Lisbon raises her voice. She is almost yelling now; her composure evaporating rapidly. “When I noticed dad’s shield was missing, I thought I was going crazy. I looked for it for weeks. When I found out that he had it all this time... I’ve thought about moving, you know. He broke into my apartment and neither one of us noticed.”
Jane leans the broom against the wall and approaches her. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder and gives her a subdued, almost forlorn look. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. “When you first discovered your father’s shield was missing, why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you look for it.”
“Because it was my father’s,” she answers; softly now, without raising her voice. “Because it was the one thing of his I kept, when we got rid of everything else.” She shrugs, his hand on her shoulder seems to burn through her blouse. “Because it was more personal than we were every supposed to get.”
Jane smiles sadly. “I wish you had told me.”
Lisbon recoils at this, withdrawing from his touch as she remembers the point she has been trying to make. She raises her voice again. “Like you told me about that gun? Where did you even get it? You say you want me to talk to you, but you still kept this from me. Trust and honesty only work if they go both ways, Jane. I mean, God, you had a gun! No one asked any questions, they just assumed it was Red John’s, but how could you do that to me?”
As she speaks, Jane’s posture goes from relaxed to rigid. “I was trying to protect you,” he says, the quiet desperation in his tone mirrored on his face. “After what happened to Kristina, I couldn’t risk you knowing anything more than you had to. And look what happened anyway! As careful as we were, Red John still found out!”
“Jane!” she exclaims, her eyes narrowing and locking on his. “How many times do I have to tell you that I can take care of myself? That I decide what I do and don’t need to know? I can’t keep having this same fight with you.”
“Then let’s not fight about it,” Jane moves closer to her, running his hand along her forearm briefly and clasping her hand in his. “It’s in the past now. Let’s just move on.”
“I want to, Jane. I do,” she admits quietly, trying to ignore her own involuntary physical reaction to his touch and proximity. “I love you,” she adds, giving his hand a squeeze before breaking the contact, “but I don’t trust you. I can’t as long as you keep doing things like this.”
Lisbon leaves him alone in the attic to finish what he started, but the look on his face when she tells him this haunts her for the rest of the evening.
xxxxx