First Mentalist fic... kinda anxious about posting it. The lyrics at the end are from the song "In My Sleep" by Austin Hartley-Leonard, it's really quite beautiful. If you get a chance, please go listen to it. This is my first Mentalist fic (yes, I say it again), so I'd love to get a review from you to tell me how I'm doing. Praise, constrictive criticism, heck, even flames are welcome. Just know that I feed flames to my evil French teacher.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine -sob-. Not beta'd, errors are entirely mine. I apologize for any my proofreads missed.
Everyone at the CBI knew that Jane didn't sleep. They had their suspicions, but they couldn't be certain. And being Jane, he knew what their suspicions were, and he knew that they were wrong. Lisbon and Cho thought his thoughts were too tormented by guilt and self-loathing to sleep, Rigsby thought he had unbearable nightmares, and Van Pelt thought he was wracking his brains to find a new lead in the Red John case.
No, the reason he couldn't sleep was because every time he did, he dreamed his wife and daughter were back in his arms.
Those dreams—those memories—they were too much for him. Jane had slowly learned how to steel himself to everything in life that reminded him of them, but these bittersweet moments, never real enough, they hurt him too much. So he simply rested. He would never willingly sleep unless it was the dreamless stupor induced by sleeping pills. He had never been prone to sleeping on couches, one reason why "his" CBI's couch made a prime resting place. He could give his body some downtime without worrying about actually falling asleep.
He had plunked himself down and shut his eyes when he heard the door open. He didn't need to see her to know it was Lisbon. He kept his eyes shut and feigned sleep, knowing she would be too relieved that he was sleeping to bother him. It would be better to just wait for her to leave. Jane heard her slip into her office, and he could hear the rustle of paper from the couch. She was taking her time, considering the hour. Before he could stop himself, the fatigue had taking over and he had drifted off to sleep.
His beautiful wife was standing in front of him, her arms wrapped around his little daughter. They were smiling, looking at him with eyes full of undying love. His throat constricted, and he felt the first of the tears slipping down his face.
"Daddy, why are you sad?" his daughter asked, all innocence and hope. Her voice made him sob even harder.
"I miss my girls," he managed to choke out. He wanted to go to them, hold them and never let go, but his dream self wouldn't move. He could only stand and watch.
He felt his wife's arms wrap around him, she smelled the way she always did. His daughter grabbed him around the knees, pressing her smiling face into his knees.
"We love you, Patrick. So much. We'll only ever love you, but don't you be the same way," his wife said softly. "You've got the rest of your life ahead of you. Remember us, but you're ready to move on. It's okay to love again."
Jane buried his face in his wife's shoulder, sobbing convulsively.
His daughter looked up at him, sweet and innocent, still as carefree as she had been in life. "I don't like it when you're sad. Be happy, Daddy. For me and Mommy. Please?"
He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay with them forever. But Jane could already feel his dream starting to slip away again, his wife and daughter slowly retreating and fading.
"Promise me," his wife called. "Open your eyes to what's in front of you."
"Goodbye, Daddy!" his little girl called, one last time. Somehow, he just knew.
"Promise me," she begged.
He strained his eyes, forcing himself to memorise every detail, every tiny thing about his family. "I promise," he sobbed quietly, but he knew they heard him.
And then his dream gave his way to reality.
"Jane? Jane, wake up!"
Someone was shaking his shoulders. Lisbon, he could tell. He opened his eyes, and he was startled to find his face wet and tears still running down his face. Lisbon was looking at him, worried.
He didn't even bother trying to hide his emotions. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and cried. She sat down beside him on the couch, pulling him into a compassionate hug. She rubbed his back soothingly and waited for him to finish crying his heart out.
Slowly, his breathing evened out and the tears falling from his eyes slowed to a stop. Lisbon didn't move, just kept rubbing circles on his back.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she said it quietly, almost hesitantly.
He debated lying to her, shaking her off, but he couldn't do it. After all this time, he needed someone to share his story with. And Lisbon was a perfect choice. He was just about to open his mouth when the realization hit him. He was falling for Teresa Lisbon. That was what his wife was talking about.
"Jane?"
Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Um, right. I just...dreamed of my wife and little girl. They were... with me again... they told me to move on," he said, the words barely audible. He didn't say any more, he didn't think he could.
She seemed lost for words. There was a slight pause before, "I'm sorry, Patrick."
Despite his current state, he caught the use of his first name, as well as the implications it might present. He could tell she was hiding feelings for him too, he had known for some time. So he threw caution to the wind.
"Lisbon?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you have feelings for me?"
She let go of him immediately, as though his skin had burned her. "No," she replied, too quickly. A blush spread up her neck and over her cheeks.
"Liar."
She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. She was just about to say something highly intelligent and convincing when Jane's lips brushed hers ever so gently, his hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. He pulled away before she could process what had happened, and studied her carefully for her reaction.
Her mouth tried to form words, but she was once again speechless. Jane could see the smile she was trying to hide. Smiling, he closed the gap between them once again. This time, she responded gently, teasing his lips softly. As far as they were both concerned, he broke away far too quickly.
Jane held Lisbon close, her head resting on his chest while she tried to find words.
"Don't bother, Lisbon. I know what you're thinking."
Lisbon was about to answer rather indignantly, but the disarming smile on his face defeated her and she apparently gave up. "Fine," she said, trying to scowl at him but failing miserably.
They sat there a long while, until Lisbon's eyes started dropping and Jane's head had dropped to rest on hers.
"Thank you, Teresa," he whispered, right before she drifted off to sleep in his arms.
She could have asked, normally she would have, but she didn't. "You're welcome."
Someday, get up on my way
I think I'll be okay for a while
I know you were never mine to keep
But I know that I'll see you in my sleep
Fin
Thanks for reading, Jenn.