Oh, lovely readers, please leave a review! I am starving for them right now and would so love to hear your thoughts! Thanks so much, and enjoy!

NNNNNNNNNN

Nightmares

Lisbon bit her lip as she stared at the sheet of paper. She had been trying to read the same line for the past five minutes, but she finally had to admit that she wasn't absorbing any of it. She tossed the paper down, braced her elbows on her desk and rubbed her eyes. It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, and she hadn't gotten any work done for the past two hours.

First the Red John impersonators—sick college kids—then the murder of the TV interviewer, then Kristina Frye's disappearance—all of it had been a lot to swallow lately. However, it had only been a few clicks above business as usual—nothing they couldn't handle—until Jane had been kidnapped.

Lisbon tried not to think about how her heart had stopped dead in her chest when she had burst into the old hotel Jane had specified and he was not there. And then a sick tension had gripped her gut when she and her team found evidence of a struggle.

Later, when they had caught up to him, she had wanted to run to him, make sure he was okay, maybe throw convention out the window just this once and give him a quick hug. But a single glance at his face made her stop where she stood. His expression was pale, stark—absent. She had known if she asked if he was okay, he would lie. She asked anyway. And he did lie. She would have pushed it if it had been any other case. But he had almost been knifed.

And he had looked Red John in the eyes.

Ever since, the team had slipped right back into routine, pretending like nothing had happened. They had to. Jane wouldn't say a word about it, and no new leads emerged. But they couldn't quite force their masquerade to become reality. Jane wasn't the same. Sure, he still occupied his couch and wandered around inserting witty and annoying comments into other people's conversations, and he came with Lisbon on every call. But he didn't smile—not genuinely. He offered a few quick flashes, but it was like a candle in a cave when she was used to a sunlit lawn. Before, she had been irritated by his know-it-all smirk. Now she found she missed it.

But she wasn't going to say anything. She got the sense that he was holding his composure together with threads but that it was getting easier. She didn't want to disrupt that or do anything to nudge him back toward that old, dangerous ledge.

And then he started slipping. He made a mistake out in the field, then another. Once, he locked up in the middle of an interview and Lisbon had to make him leave. Afterward, she had demanded to know what the matter was, and he had simply said that he hadn't been sleeping well. At that confession, Lisbon realized that he probably hadn't been sleeping at all. But still, she was willing to give him some leeway.

Hightower wasn't.

"If he doesn't start getting it together, I'm going to have to kick him out of here."

"He'll be fine. He just needs some time," Lisbon had insisted. Hightower had fixed her with a gaze and folded her arms.

"Figure it out, Lisbon. He's becoming a liability rather than an asset, and if that continues, he's a danger to the unit. I won't have that."

"I'll figure it out," Lisbon had promised. And that was the reason she hadn't gotten any work done since that conversation with Hightower. She knew what she needed to do, but it was going to be really difficult. She was never very good with subtlety, let alone tricking Jane. She was too transparent. But maybe his tiredness and preoccupation could work to her advantage. Taking a deep breath, she got up and went to her door.

She had just opened it and stepped out into the hall when Hightower passed on her way to the elevator. She gave Lisbon a pointed look.

"Fix it," she ordered.

"I'm fixing it," Lisbon assured her, then gritted her teeth and headed to the break room.

NNN

"Hey."

Jane lifted his head when Lisbon spoke. He had been sitting on his couch, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. She smiled at him, holding the saucer and hot tea in both hands. He managed to give her a friendly look—it appeared bleak next to his old radiance.

"Hi," he greeted her. "Heading home?"

She shrugged and stepped up to him.

"I've got a little more work to do—thought I'd take a break." She handed the tea off to him as if he had asked for it. He took it absently, returning his gaze to the floor. She swallowed, briefly relieved, then sat down next to him. He stared down at the tea in the cup.

"You know, this tea…" he murmured. Lisbon tensed.

"What about it?"

He glanced at her.

"It's exactly the way I like it," he said. "How'd you know?"

She gave him a crooked smile.

"Despite what you may think, I do pay attention sometimes."

"Oh, I know you pay attention to everything," he answered, lifted the cup and took a long, slow sip. Lisbon let out a breath and leaned back into the cushy couch. He lowered the cup from his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Lisbon blinked, and folded her arms.

"About what?"

He cleared his throat.

"About the mess I made a few days ago. I know you and Hightower and the rest of the team have been untangling it ever since."

Lisbon shrugged.

"No big deal. Actually, it's made us realize how spoiled we've gotten."

He shot her a look.

"How so?"

"Well, we haven't had to deal with much of that kind of red tape since you started working with us. You've made things a little too easy in some ways."

A smile flickered across his face.

"Sorry to be so over-indulgent."

Lisbon almost smiled in return, but then Jane's brow furrowed and he closed his eyes. He ran a hand over his forehead.

"I, um…" He started, setting his tea down on the floor and leaning back in the couch. "I wanted to tell you something…earlier…but I never really had the chance." He opened his eyes again and tried to focus, but it appeared to take more effort. Lisbon closed her hands into fists, but hid them by keeping her arms crossed.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, I…You asked me a couple times if Red John…if he said anything." Jane swallowed, and he gazed out in front. But when he spoke next, his voice was rough, shaky. "And um…he did."

"Jane, you don't have to tell me right now," Lisbon said quickly. "Really, you don't. Not if it bothers you."

"What bothers me is lying to you, especially when I don't need to," he answered back, frowning hard again as if his vision had gone blurry. "He didn't say much, but what he did say…" He cleared his throat again, closed his eyes and leaned forward. Then he sat up, sucked in a breath and opened his eyes wide.

"Lisbon?"

She sat up.

"What?"

He leaned his shoulder against hers, concentrating on a space just in front of him.

"I feel drugged."

Lisbon sighed and rolled her eyes, glancing over at him.

"It's a heavy-duty sleeping concoction—it'll help you sleep for once."

"Who drugged me?" He asked, his eyelids drifting shut as he drooped even more heavily against her. She shifted.

"I did."

"Oh," he said lightly, nodding. "Okay. Just making sure."

And his head leaned down and rested on her shoulder. He was out. For a moment, her cheek pressed against his golden curls. Then, she managed to get out from under him, turn him and carefully set him back onto the couch where his head laid on the armrest. She lifted his feet up onto it so he was horizontal, then stood beside him, studying his face, marveling at how the pain that drew lines in his face when he was awake had no power to do so now. Resisting the reflexive urge to brush a strand of hair away from his brow, she turned and went back to her office. She would bring her paperwork out here to Van Pelt's desk and stay with him a while, at least until she finished.

NNN

Okay, work was taking a lot longer to finish than she thought. At first, she told herself she was just tired and couldn't focus. Then she told herself that the stuff was boring. But truthfully, it was Jane.

Just when she was starting to get something done, he would twitch hard, and gasp. The first time it happened, Lisbon almost hit the ceiling. It came to her that he had to be dreaming. But that didn't make her less worried about him.

At about ten o'clock, though, he adjusted restlessly, and wrapped his arms around himself. Lisbon frowned, and got up.

"Must be cold," she muttered. She went to the coat rack, pulled off her long blue jacket, approached him and spread it out over him, tucking it up around his shoulders. A frown crossed his face.

"Kristina?"

Lisbon's hands went still, then she straightened. She crossed her arms and glared down at him. He was dreaming about her? The woman who had pretty much spat in Red John's face and gotten a woman killed, then disappeared herself, causing everyone here—especially Jane—to teeter on the edge of panic and uncertainty? She was the one invading Jane's sleep and keeping him from resting like he—?

He twitched again, then turned his head sharply. Lisbon stayed motionless, watching him.

He sucked in a sharp breath, then another.

"Annie?" he murmured, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids. "Honey?"

Lisbon went cold. She pressed a hand to her throat, staring at him. She shouldn't be here right now. She should go to another room and let him fight through this. He wouldn't want her to watch him this way…

He flinched again, his face twisted and he gulped.

"Sweetheart?" he gasped. Lisbon covered her mouth. Never mind. She should wake him up. She should—

He relaxed. He let out a long, shuddering breath. His face gained a stony aspect. And a single tear trailed from the corner of his eye down his temple.

"Oh, Jane," she murmured, kneeling down beside him before she thought about it. Helpless, pained, she reached out and wiped the tear away with her fingertips.

"Lisbon?"

She jerked and almost leaped up. His voice was so different—so clear. He had to be awake—

He wasn't. His eyes were closed. But his left hand was searching, fumbling against the leather couch.

Wondering what he wanted, she touched his arm. He snatched up her hand.

Lisbon jumped, but he closed her left hand in both of his, brought it up and pressed it against his heart. Then he sighed. His thumb stroked back and forth on the back of her hand.

Lisbon stared at him, gauging whether or not he was about to twitch again, or wake up. He breathed slowly, evenly. His fingers held hers in a gentle hold, but she got the sense that if she tried to pull away, he would tighten down. Lisbon adjusted her legs under her so she could sit more comfortably, and leaned against the side of the couch. Okay, fine. This was awkward, but if this is what it took to "fix" the Jane problem and keep him on her team, so be it. She would do this, and more, if he needed her. Sighing, she rested her head on her upper arm and dozed off, memorizing the feel of Jane's heartbeat beneath her hand.

NNN

Lisbon jolted awake. Panic and confusion jarred her when she wondered where she was—and then Jane thrashed. Hard.

She pulled her hand loose of him. He threw the jacket off. His breaths came in short, tight bursts.

"No," he said through his teeth. "No, no."

"Jane—" she tried, afraid to touch him in case he decided to lash out.

"No, don't. I told you, she…" he choked. He took a deep breath and said, almost as clearly as if he were conscious: "She has nothing to do with this. You let her go."

"Jane, wake up." She decided to risk it. She took hold of his shoulder and shook him. His head turned one way, then the other. He groaned, then reached up with his right hand and took a fistful of the couch cushion.

"No…" he gasped. "No, don't!"

"Jane!" she shouted.

"Lisbon!" he cried.

He sat up so fast that Lisbon fell backward. He panted, gasping, his eyes wide open. He pressed his fingers to the sides of his head. Lisbon clambered up off the floor and sat down on the edge of the couch. She grabbed both his shoulders and leaned her head down, trying to see his face.

"Jane, are you awake?"

His eyes flew to hers. She frowned. He didn't look right—like he wasn't above the surface just yet…

"Lisbon?" he repeated.

"Yeah, it's me—"

He captured her face in both his hands. She sat up straight, her thoughts gone. His eyes earnestly searched her every feature.

"Are you okay?" he demanded.

"I'm fine," she answered, breathless. "I—"

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise—"

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Lisbon's breath caught, and her heart gave one hard pound. He did not move—he just held her there, soft, certain, as if he had waited too long. As if he had almost been too late. His mouth lingered on hers for another moment, then slowly withdrew. Lisbon blinked when their lips broke apart, her face hot, and dared to meet his eyes. But his eyelids fluttered shut and he rested his forehead against hers. His hands fell down to her shoulders and he sighed deeply again. He was asleep.

Lisbon swallowed hard, reached up with shaking hands and took his shoulders and laid him back down on the couch. She picked up the jacket from the floor and covered him with it, just as he turned his back on her and lay on his side, facing the couch.

Lisbon gave into her impulse now. She couldn't help it—she felt on the edge of inexplicable tears, anyway. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and rested her hand on his head for just a second. Then, she sat back down and leaned against the side of the couch, knowing she couldn't leave him now even if she wanted to.

NNN

At about five-thirty in the morning, when the sun was coming up, Lisbon left Jane—who had not stirred at all since the last time—and went home. She took a shower, got cleaned up and put on fresh clothes, then came back to work. By the time she got there, Jane was still asleep but Van Pelt and Rigsby had shown up, so she went to her office.

It was ten in the morning and she was elbow deep in paperwork before Jane made an appearance. She forced composure and kept her gaze fixed on her computer screen as he wandered in, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I fell asleep on the couch," he said, as if surprised.

Lisbon raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I saw that."

He sighed and rubbed his face. She glanced at him.

"Get any rest?"

He shrugged.

"Meh. More than usual, I guess." He paused. "I had some weird dreams."

"Oh, really?" Lisbon said, pretending to work but actually typing "as;lfkja;slkdjfasl;kasjfsl" over and over.

"Yeah, my dreams get pretty strange sometimes," he admitted. "Stuff about clowns and carnivals—really disturbing stuff."

"I can imagine," Lisbon said. He stayed where he was. She finally looked up at him. He was standing there, as if off-balance, hesitating in mid-thought.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said smoothly, sticking his hands in his pockets. "It's just that I've been known to sleep walk and…I dunno, get a drink from the tap or…insult relatives or…" His blue eyes met hers and he gave her a matter-of-fact look. "I have very vivid dreams, and sometimes I can't tell if I just dreamed something…or did something."

So—he did remember. But he thought it was a dream. Or he hoped it was a dream? Or hoped it wasn't…?

Lisbon tried to keep her face from flushing—and met his gaze squarely.

"Look, don't worry," she assured him. "You didn't do anything unexpected."

"Ah," he kicked his head back and smiled. "Good to know." But then the smile faltered, and she caught a trace of discomfort—or disappointment.

Lisbon got up and came around the desk, heading for the door.

"Hey, since you slept all night on the couch, feel free to go home and clean up," she said over her shoulder as she grabbed the door handle. Jane shrugged.

"I'm fine."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

He frowned.

"No, why?"

"Because you've got a little lipstick right there." She pointed to her own lip. His hand flew halfway to his mouth. He stopped himself. He stared at her. And he blushed.

Lisbon grinned at him, and held his gaze for just a moment. Then, she turned, left the office and headed for the break room to get herself some coffee.

FIN

Annie