the veil that keeps me blind, 15/15
Title: The Veil That Keeps Me Blind
Chapter: 15/15 (Book IV)
Notes: Here’s the final chapter of the story! In the next day or so, I’m going to put up a master post for the story that will include soundtrack listings and more detailed notes for anyone who’s interested. In the meantime, enjoy the last chapter. Thanks for reading :-)
Book IV
Chapter 15
xxxxx
Lisbon barely sees him for the rest of the week, and although she worries she has upset their balance more than ever, she does not regret telling him the truth. She does worry about him, however, and the fact that he is still spending his time up in the attic. He can’t possibly have that much to clean. She considers going upstairs to check on him, but eventually decides against it.
The week passes quickly in spite of her concern for Jane, and before she knows it, she is wishing everyone “Happy Holidays” and leaving the team in Cho and Hightower’s hands until the second week in January. Hightower wanted her to take more time off, but Lisbon refused. She had been away for six months; she would take the rest of her time off at a later date.
She looks for Jane, but he is nowhere to be found. Impulsively, she pens a note to him and leaves it tucked in between the cushions of his couch. If he sits there anytime in the next two and a half weeks, he will undoubtedly notice that someone has messed with his couch cushions and he will find her message.
Her flight isn’t until the next afternoon, but Lisbon is already looking forward to her trip. Although she never would have taken the time off on her own, the extended vacation will give her a chance to actually spend time with her brothers and their families for the first time in several years. In the car on the way home, she even flips to a radio station playing cheesy holiday music and hums along contentedly.
When she pulls up in front of her apartment, it becomes apparent as to why she couldn’t find Jane at the office. He’s sitting on her front doorstep, one to-go cup from Marie’s in each hand, waiting for her.
Her heart starts to race in anticipation as she locks her car and makes her way toward him.
“Hi.” He greets her quietly as he rises to his feet, holding out one of the two cups. She accepts it gratefully.
“Hey.” She takes a long drink and gives herself time to gather her composure. “Do you want to come inside?”
“Please.” Jane gives a short nod and waits patiently while she searches for her keys to unlock her front door. When they step over the threshold, he studies the suitcase standing just inside the door and asks, “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“3:30,” she replies, putting her coffee down on the desk, taking off her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair. “I looked for you before I left the office.”
He frowns. “Oh.”
“It’s alright,” she says, leading him back into her living room. This time, the boxes (all of them) are completely gone; they’ve been emptied out and put away. “I left you a note.”
Lisbon sinks down onto her sofa, leaning back against the armrest, and Jane follows suit obediently, seating himself at the opposite end. She wants to ask him why he is here, but she waits to see what he volunteers on his own. This silence between them feels oddly comfortable and familiar, even as each second that passes adds to her anticipation.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said in the attic,” he begins finally. There is truth to his tone, vulnerability and honesty. To her great relief, this offers her reassurance that he is not trying to charm or manipulate her now. She does not even think he has planned out what he is going to say.
“I want to be honest with you,” he continues. “I want you to be able to trust me. I know I haven’t been forthcoming in the past, but things are different now. I’m different now. I just don’t know how to alleviate your doubts.”
His voice trails off, but he does not seem to have finished yet. Lisbon takes another sip of her coffee while she waits.
“I’ve been working on something for you this week. Consider it part of your Christmas present.” Jane pulls three leather-bound journals from inside his suit jacket. “These are the journals I kept with all of my notes about Red John. If I thought it was part of the case, I put it in here. Every last detail is written down in these. I was going to throw them out, but I want you to have them so that you know... everything.”
Lisbon’s hands shake as she accepts the proffered journals. “Thank you, Jane, but I can’t... I don’t need them.”
Confusion crosses Jane’s face. “You don’t?”
Her lips curl in a half smile, amused; she releases a low chuckle that seems to melt the puzzled expression from his brows.
“I don’t.” She raises her eyes so that she is looking directly into his, assuring that she has his attention. “The gesture is all I ever really needed.”
“Oh,” he says, once again reduced to short syllables instead of full sentences.
Lisbon shakes her head, full of warmth and affection in spite of herself. She feels like she’s spent years fighting this; they’ve passed the most difficult hurdles and she doesn’t want to fight anymore.
“We can throw them out together,” she decides, shifting forward in her seat to rise from the sofa.
“Wait,” Jane urges. He reaches out with one hand to motion for her to sit down again. “I, uh. I know you said you expected me to be angry with you for taking Red John from me.”
Lisbon nods slowly in affirmation, waiting to see where he is going with this.
“When Bosco was dying, he told me something. I know I told you that he wanted me to look after you...”
She quirks an eyebrow to let him know that she never for one second believed Sam Bosco had said that.
“... but what he really said,” Jane continues, “Is that when I got Red John, I would have to make a decision. I could kill him, and I probably should, but I would have to know what I would be giving up in doing so.”
Oh, Sam, she thinks, now able to recall his memory with fondness instead of just pain and regret. You always knew, didn’t you?
The sound of Jane’s voice draws her from the fleeting thoughts of the past.
“I don’t know what would have happened if Red John hadn’t knocked me out that day or if you hadn’t deciphered his messages and come to us, but I will always be grateful that I never had to make the choice.”
Lisbon has never seen him so calm and level-headed when it comes to speaking about Red John. Hope springs in her chest, and when he flashes a brief but genuine smile at her, the flutter of her heart is almost automatic.
“I would have made the wrong decision, and then it would have been too late. I know that now. I only wish I had known better then.”
“Jane,” she whispers, shifting her position until she is sitting right next to him.
She places one hand on his thigh, and he slides his own underneath it, clasping their fingers together and raising her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.
“I know you’re wondering where I went last week,” he adds. “I was in San Francisco. I met with some of the women at the shelter. I wanted to see what you had been a part of there. I understand now why you had to go.”
“When they told me about the case, I knew I couldn’t turn it down. I could have been one of those women,” she admits quietly.
Jane shakes his head, insistent; his hand still holds hers firmly in his grip. “You would never have been one of those women.”
She gives him a long look, silently asking if he really thinks so.
He squeezes her hand, understanding her implied question without a moment’s hesitation. “Oh, Lisbon. Surely you know yourself well enough to understand this.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Being around those women for so long, sometimes I wonder...”
“Don’t wonder,” he interrupts. “I know.”
“Alright,” she exhales softly in reply. She isn’t so sure herself, but it’s a new and refreshing feeling to have someone believe in her so wholeheartedly and without reservation.
Jane stands up from the couch slowly, taking both of her hands in his and pulling her up until she stands directly in front of him. His eyes are calm and bright, and the hope that shines in them is evident in his voice when he speaks. “So tomorrow you’re flying back east for the holidays. Does that mean you have plans tonight?”
She grins at him slyly. “I was thinking I might have dinner.”
He smirks. “Is that an invitation?”
“I don’t know.” She meets his eyes and suddenly both of their expressions turn from playful to serious. “What do you want?”
“I want to stay.” He answers without hesitation, clear and concise and confident, without putting on a show. This is the Jane she knows, the man she always knew he was, even when he himself was not so sure.
Lisbon wonders if that’s the reason he has so much faith in her as well.
There is still much for them to work through, but his confidence is infectious and she finds herself believing that she may be able to reconcile the ghosts of their respective pasts with what she wants now.
“Then I’m asking you to stay.”
She answers Jane, mirroring his confidence in a crisp, determined tone that is all her own.
She drops his grip and starts walking toward her kitchen. The moment his hand finds its familiar place against the small of her back is the exact moment that they fall into step.
xxxxx
Chapter: 15/15 (Book IV)
Notes: Here’s the final chapter of the story! In the next day or so, I’m going to put up a master post for the story that will include soundtrack listings and more detailed notes for anyone who’s interested. In the meantime, enjoy the last chapter. Thanks for reading :-)
Book IV
Chapter 15
xxxxx
Lisbon barely sees him for the rest of the week, and although she worries she has upset their balance more than ever, she does not regret telling him the truth. She does worry about him, however, and the fact that he is still spending his time up in the attic. He can’t possibly have that much to clean. She considers going upstairs to check on him, but eventually decides against it.
The week passes quickly in spite of her concern for Jane, and before she knows it, she is wishing everyone “Happy Holidays” and leaving the team in Cho and Hightower’s hands until the second week in January. Hightower wanted her to take more time off, but Lisbon refused. She had been away for six months; she would take the rest of her time off at a later date.
She looks for Jane, but he is nowhere to be found. Impulsively, she pens a note to him and leaves it tucked in between the cushions of his couch. If he sits there anytime in the next two and a half weeks, he will undoubtedly notice that someone has messed with his couch cushions and he will find her message.
Her flight isn’t until the next afternoon, but Lisbon is already looking forward to her trip. Although she never would have taken the time off on her own, the extended vacation will give her a chance to actually spend time with her brothers and their families for the first time in several years. In the car on the way home, she even flips to a radio station playing cheesy holiday music and hums along contentedly.
When she pulls up in front of her apartment, it becomes apparent as to why she couldn’t find Jane at the office. He’s sitting on her front doorstep, one to-go cup from Marie’s in each hand, waiting for her.
Her heart starts to race in anticipation as she locks her car and makes her way toward him.
“Hi.” He greets her quietly as he rises to his feet, holding out one of the two cups. She accepts it gratefully.
“Hey.” She takes a long drink and gives herself time to gather her composure. “Do you want to come inside?”
“Please.” Jane gives a short nod and waits patiently while she searches for her keys to unlock her front door. When they step over the threshold, he studies the suitcase standing just inside the door and asks, “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“3:30,” she replies, putting her coffee down on the desk, taking off her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair. “I looked for you before I left the office.”
He frowns. “Oh.”
“It’s alright,” she says, leading him back into her living room. This time, the boxes (all of them) are completely gone; they’ve been emptied out and put away. “I left you a note.”
Lisbon sinks down onto her sofa, leaning back against the armrest, and Jane follows suit obediently, seating himself at the opposite end. She wants to ask him why he is here, but she waits to see what he volunteers on his own. This silence between them feels oddly comfortable and familiar, even as each second that passes adds to her anticipation.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said in the attic,” he begins finally. There is truth to his tone, vulnerability and honesty. To her great relief, this offers her reassurance that he is not trying to charm or manipulate her now. She does not even think he has planned out what he is going to say.
“I want to be honest with you,” he continues. “I want you to be able to trust me. I know I haven’t been forthcoming in the past, but things are different now. I’m different now. I just don’t know how to alleviate your doubts.”
His voice trails off, but he does not seem to have finished yet. Lisbon takes another sip of her coffee while she waits.
“I’ve been working on something for you this week. Consider it part of your Christmas present.” Jane pulls three leather-bound journals from inside his suit jacket. “These are the journals I kept with all of my notes about Red John. If I thought it was part of the case, I put it in here. Every last detail is written down in these. I was going to throw them out, but I want you to have them so that you know... everything.”
Lisbon’s hands shake as she accepts the proffered journals. “Thank you, Jane, but I can’t... I don’t need them.”
Confusion crosses Jane’s face. “You don’t?”
Her lips curl in a half smile, amused; she releases a low chuckle that seems to melt the puzzled expression from his brows.
“I don’t.” She raises her eyes so that she is looking directly into his, assuring that she has his attention. “The gesture is all I ever really needed.”
“Oh,” he says, once again reduced to short syllables instead of full sentences.
Lisbon shakes her head, full of warmth and affection in spite of herself. She feels like she’s spent years fighting this; they’ve passed the most difficult hurdles and she doesn’t want to fight anymore.
“We can throw them out together,” she decides, shifting forward in her seat to rise from the sofa.
“Wait,” Jane urges. He reaches out with one hand to motion for her to sit down again. “I, uh. I know you said you expected me to be angry with you for taking Red John from me.”
Lisbon nods slowly in affirmation, waiting to see where he is going with this.
“When Bosco was dying, he told me something. I know I told you that he wanted me to look after you...”
She quirks an eyebrow to let him know that she never for one second believed Sam Bosco had said that.
“... but what he really said,” Jane continues, “Is that when I got Red John, I would have to make a decision. I could kill him, and I probably should, but I would have to know what I would be giving up in doing so.”
Oh, Sam, she thinks, now able to recall his memory with fondness instead of just pain and regret. You always knew, didn’t you?
The sound of Jane’s voice draws her from the fleeting thoughts of the past.
“I don’t know what would have happened if Red John hadn’t knocked me out that day or if you hadn’t deciphered his messages and come to us, but I will always be grateful that I never had to make the choice.”
Lisbon has never seen him so calm and level-headed when it comes to speaking about Red John. Hope springs in her chest, and when he flashes a brief but genuine smile at her, the flutter of her heart is almost automatic.
“I would have made the wrong decision, and then it would have been too late. I know that now. I only wish I had known better then.”
“Jane,” she whispers, shifting her position until she is sitting right next to him.
She places one hand on his thigh, and he slides his own underneath it, clasping their fingers together and raising her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.
“I know you’re wondering where I went last week,” he adds. “I was in San Francisco. I met with some of the women at the shelter. I wanted to see what you had been a part of there. I understand now why you had to go.”
“When they told me about the case, I knew I couldn’t turn it down. I could have been one of those women,” she admits quietly.
Jane shakes his head, insistent; his hand still holds hers firmly in his grip. “You would never have been one of those women.”
She gives him a long look, silently asking if he really thinks so.
He squeezes her hand, understanding her implied question without a moment’s hesitation. “Oh, Lisbon. Surely you know yourself well enough to understand this.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Being around those women for so long, sometimes I wonder...”
“Don’t wonder,” he interrupts. “I know.”
“Alright,” she exhales softly in reply. She isn’t so sure herself, but it’s a new and refreshing feeling to have someone believe in her so wholeheartedly and without reservation.
Jane stands up from the couch slowly, taking both of her hands in his and pulling her up until she stands directly in front of him. His eyes are calm and bright, and the hope that shines in them is evident in his voice when he speaks. “So tomorrow you’re flying back east for the holidays. Does that mean you have plans tonight?”
She grins at him slyly. “I was thinking I might have dinner.”
He smirks. “Is that an invitation?”
“I don’t know.” She meets his eyes and suddenly both of their expressions turn from playful to serious. “What do you want?”
“I want to stay.” He answers without hesitation, clear and concise and confident, without putting on a show. This is the Jane she knows, the man she always knew he was, even when he himself was not so sure.
Lisbon wonders if that’s the reason he has so much faith in her as well.
There is still much for them to work through, but his confidence is infectious and she finds herself believing that she may be able to reconcile the ghosts of their respective pasts with what she wants now.
“Then I’m asking you to stay.”
She answers Jane, mirroring his confidence in a crisp, determined tone that is all her own.
She drops his grip and starts walking toward her kitchen. The moment his hand finds its familiar place against the small of her back is the exact moment that they fall into step.
xxxxx