A/N Yes, another Mentalist one. Spoilers for 4.10 obviously.

"I'm sorry," she said. Jane remained silent. The memories were still rushing in, making him gain and lose the love of his life and that little wonder that was his daughter in a matter of seconds. For a short while, he felt numb. Like an outside spectator watching a beautiful, tragic, utterly destroying movie.

Then, the emotions came rushing in. Fury, hot bubbling, making him dizzy. There was anger everywhere. A bit at who had done this but mostly at himself for being a money grubbing, selfish, family-endangering fraud. He didn't even notice that a strangled, desperate sound tore itself on his throat and his legs gave in.

Once on the floor, he registered a distant pain in his head and he found himself desperately wishing that all of this was just a terrible dream, a result of an injury, that he could still stop all of this. He dared to hope for a second.

Then, There were hands on him, rolling him onto his back, grasping for his hands, stroking his tear-stained face, holding him close. That's when he finally gave in to the sobbing and whimpering that had been building up inside him, threatening to spill over. He curled up into a ball and cried with all his might. Suddenly, it felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room, leaving him gasping and breathing frantically. The hands were urgently pulling him up now and he didn't have the willpower to resist. The momentum sent his head spinning and made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Theresa had been standing there, watching as the memories returned to her consultant. No, that's not right. She had been standing there witnessing the memories assail her friend. He had screamed before falling to the ground. He hit his head in the process and Theresa jumped to catch him but didn't manage to get to him quickly enough. She thought for sure that he was unconscious and therefore nothing prepared her for the brief glimmer of hope on his face that broke her heart completely. She reached out to comfort him, turn him onto his back when he started crying heart-wrenchingly. He curled up into himself while his sobs turned hysterical. Theresa was worried that he might hyperventilate but surely, their bad luck had finally- nope, scratch that. He started hyperventilating before she even had the chance to finish that thought. Theresa didn't even roll her eyes because Janes gasping sounded frankly scary.

"Jane, come on, sit up." No reaction.

"Patrick!" He didn't even seem to hear her.

Theresa sat him up and after a while he had calmed down somewhat.

Once he was better, Lisbon dragged him to the bathroom and cleaned his flushed, tear-streaked face with a cold cloth. Then, she went through his cabinet to find some clothes for him - his suit was drenched in sweat. She only found two of his usual suits instead of some comfortable clothing she had hoped for. Lisbon decided to ditch the vest and jacket and simply wrestled him into a clean shirt.

Jane complied with every gentle command she gave him and bonelessly let her guide him but showed no initiative to do anything by himself. If he hadn't raised his arms whenever prompted, Theresa might have thought him to be completely catatonic.

When she was done, Lisbon considered her next steps while watching him carefully. The disheveled hair, the crumpled dress shirt, the destroyed expression on his face - he looked like the man she had met all those years ago who had asked her about the Red John files and then had somehow managed to sneak his way into the CBI. All his progress, as insignificant as it sometimes seemed, was completely gone.

He couldn't stay here on his own and Theresa was sure as hell not spending her night in the same house as that creepy smiley on his bedroom wall. Lisbon sighed and said:

"Jane, listen to me. We are going to my place. Do you think you can manage the drive?"

He stared into nothingness for a few seconds before nodding minutely.

"Come on then, up you get."

Jane slept through most of the drive back, though "passed out" was probably a better way to describe his extreme state of exhaustion. On the upside, he had no nightmares or any other disturbances. Upon arriving in Sacramento, it was already late and Lisbon let out a sigh of relief that this day was finally over. She guided Jane into her flat, deposited him on the sofa and got him a blanket.

"Good night Jane. Try to sleep. If you need anything, just give me a shout. I'll be in my bedroom."

A nod. She counted that as progress and hoped that the next step might be to get his eyes to actually focus on something.

The next morning, the alarm woke her up at 7 AM. Lisbon got up to check on Jane. Her greatest worry, him having run off, turned out to be unfunded, he was still lying on the couch. His yes were bloodshot and had dark bruises underneath them. So much for her hopes of him sleeping this off. By the looks of it, he hadn't slept at all and instead cried through the whole night.

"Good morning, Jane. I'll quickly call the boss and then we'll have breakfast, okay?"

"'m n't hungry," he said softly. His voice was hoarse and without any strength.

"I wasn't asking," she said as gently as possible before getting her phone.

"Hi boss. Jane and me are taking a personal day," Lisbon said.

"Agent Lisbon. I have been informed that you took Jane to Malibu to make him remember against medical advice. I take it that it didn't go well." Wainwright sounded slightly amused but there was some worry there as well.

"That's right, sir. He really shouldn't be alone right now," Lisbon answered sheepishly. The doctors had warned her.

"Well, I'm sorry but this will not be possible. There is a new case in Bakersfield and you are needed."

"But sir! Jane's in no condition to-"

Wainwright cut her off. "He can have the day off. You are going to work the case."

"But he needs help!"

"Agent Lisbon! You are a member of the CBI, not a nurse. If he's unstable, get him into a hospital and we'll sort this out later once the case is solved."

"What? We can't do that to him!"

A pause, then a deep breath. Teresa pictured him pinching his nose.

"All right. Bring him here, then. You and your team can take turns watching him. And that is my last offer," he said with finality but not without a certain kindness.

"I'll let him decide if he's up to that. We'll be at the CBI within the hour," Theresa answered gratefully and hung up.

"Jane, we need to hurry a bit. There's a case."

He looked at her and nodded. The sense of normalcy seemed to appeal to him. However, he made no move whatsoever. Theresa sighed. She pointed at the neatly folded pile of clothes, taken from his cabinet back in Malibu, and said:

"Come on. Shower, put on some fresh clothes and join me for breakfast when you're done."

He slowly did as he was told. He seemed wobbly and disoriented. Lisbon ended up forcing Jane to have a slice of toast and a cup of tea (the latter needing less persuasion that the former), which was better than nothing, she reasoned. The car drive was silent. Jane seemed busy trying to keep his breakfast inside.

When they arrived at the CBI, Lisbon had to draw Patrick's attention towards the fact that the next reasonable step would be getting out of the car. When they entered the building, she could feel peoples' stares on them and quickened her pace. Before long, Jane was out of breath. When they finally got to the elevator, he was almost wheezing. Theresa silently chastised herself for neglecting his health like that. They entered the Bullpen where the team was already busy doing research. They all were nervous after the heads up that Luther Wainwright had given them about Jane's condition. They tried to act as causal as possible but that shadow of the man they had seen only hours ago caught them off guard. Cho managed to hide it behind his usual facade, Rigsby stared open-mouthed and van Pelt gasped quietly.

"Good morning. We are going to have a briefing right now. Jane, would you like to lie down here or in my office?"

His answer was to make his way to "his" couch in the bullpen.

"Alright then. My office, everyone. Now."

They first went through the details of the new case and it was decided that Lisbon would go to have a look at the crime scene herself. Once that was all cleared up, they got to the part they were all interested about.

"So, what happened with Janes memories?", Rigsby asked.

Lisbon sighed and explained what happened.

"Are you sure we shouldn't get him professional help?", asked van Pelt.

"Give the guy a chance to deal with this by himself before locking him in an asylum. It's hardly been a day since," reasoned Cho, letting all indifference go to hell for once.

True. What seemed like a lifetime to Lisbon had only been 19 hours.

"Right. I'm going. Good luck with him," she said before making her way to the crime scene.

Grace made Jane some tea and the others turned back to their task at hand.

"Th'nks," Patrick said quietly and drank the hot beverage numbly and slowly. He made no judgment for once. Before long, he was asleep, causing everyone to breathe a sigh of relief. He certainly looked like he needed it.

An hour later, it was already time for lunch, Rigsby, Cho and van Pelt set out to get some food. They settled for Chinese.

"You know, I almost wish he hadn't seen the smiley," Grace said quietly.

"If he'd remembered later, he might have been worse," Cho stated.

"Why?", Rigsby said.

"He feels guilty about his former lifestyle. There'd be more reason to hate himself if we had let him continue to behave like that." Chos voice was as matter-of-factly as usual. It gave then the feeling of some normalcy.

Grace sighed. "But it might not have been as forceful."

After picking up some soup for Jane, they made their way back to the CBI upon entering the bullpen, they found the couch empty.

"Crap!", exclaimed van Pelt and started digging for her phone.

Meanwhile, Cho had fully entered the Bullpen and found Jane underneath a desk next to his couch. He was evidently trapped in a nightmare and moaned and flinched restlessly.

"Right here," Cho informed his collegues and then addressed Jane. "Jane. Wake up. You're safe." He shook the consultant and finally managed to rouse him somewhat. Rigsby knelt down next to him. "Welcome back. Why don't you take it easy. Nothing's gonna harm you here." His words barely reached the panicking man in front of him who curled up protectively and trembled. The team looked at each other somewhat helplessly.

"Patrick, would you like us to help you back onto the couch?", Grace asked the Consultant. He didn't react which they took as silent consent. Back on the couch, he fell asleep again quickly. Shortly after, Lisbon came back and started giving out assignments for the case. When Patrick woke up next, van Pelt quickly went to the kitchen and warmed up some soup for him. He ate it quietly but not with the appetite of someone who had had one slice of toast all day. After he had eaten half a bowl, he was asleep once more. For the time being, the case came first and the team sat in Lisbons office, discussing findings, suspects and angles for an hour until they had a pretty decent timeline.

"How's Jane doing?", Lisbon questioned eventually.

They all took a deep breath, reluctant to discuss something so delicate behind Janes back. In the end, Cho informed his boss about all that had happened.

"...he seems calmer now, mostly asleep and increasingly responsive," he concluded.

"So, what do we do? Will he bounce back from this or shall we get him to a hospital?"

"Last time he needed one, right?", Rigsby said.

"He had a breakdown, apparently," Lisbon recalled.

"Is he having one now...?", Grace asked a bit helplessly.

They all had no idea. Theresa sighed, then made the decision, something she was quite used to.

"I'll take him home with me and we'll monitor him for one more day. If he doesn't make considerable progress, we have to get him professional help."

The next morning brought many surprises to Lisbon. When she went to wake Jane, he was already fully dressed in her kitchen, preparing breakfast.

"Good morning!", Lisbon exclaimed in happy surprise. Jane looked up from his task of scrambling eggs. He seemed a bit startled. His smile was shaky and weak but bonus points for the attempt.

"So, you're making me breakfast," Lisbon stated since he didn't seem to have anything to say.

"It's the least I could do," Patrick replied quietly. The table was already set and the two of them had breakfast. Lisbon noted that he was trying very hard to eat despite the obvious lack of appetite. When they were finished, he cleaned the table and kitchen while Theresa showered.

In the CBI, Jane attempted to greet everyone in the hallway to stop them all from staring. It had little resemblance to his usual beaming greeting but, again, they all appreciated the attempt.

"Morning Jane," Cho greeted him, being the first one to show up to work.

"Good morning Cho," the consultant answered with a smile. It was a bit forced but Cho didn't say anything. Instead of going to his couch, Jane spotted the most recent case files on van Pelt's desk and began reading. When Grace and Wayne entered the bullpen and greeted him, all they got was a distracted wave as a response. They all grinned at this little slice of normalcy and busied themselves with solving the case. Jane offered some input a few times and even came up with a scheme to reveal the killer which he suggested to the others. It was actually reasonable for once, devoid of any mischief that might turn out to be a problem in court.

When the case was solved and everyone tucked into their pizza, Jane cleared his throat and said:

"Thank you all for not giving up on me. I know that it would have been easier for you if you had just put me back into..." he trailed off.

"It's fine, Jane," said Grace kindly. The others gave him encouraging smiles. Even Cho. In his own way.

As the days progressed, Jane steadily deposited of the air of vulnerability, or, as Lisbon had put it many years ago, his "homeless vibes". He didn't bounce right back from it but this time, he had an advantage over the Patrick Jane who had just lost his family. He had a new family. And maybe one day, he'll open his eyes and realize that.

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