You might want to read Kaytee4ever's Jane's Death before reading this. My story will make sense on it's own, but it was written as a companion piece to Kaytee's so I strongly encourage you to check it out.


This story came about because I challenged my friend Kaytee4ever to write another version of her Jane's Death story, but from Cho's POV. She ultimately accepted the challenge, but turned the tables on me and challenged me to do the same. After some hesitation and thought, I accepted. Below is a note from Kaytee. This is the story of Cho's reaction to Jane's death. Much thanks to Kaytee4ever for encouraging me to do this, I'd have most likely not written it otherwise.

Note from Kaytee: "SB has my full support and permission to write this AU follow up to my Jane/Cho fic, "Jane's Death." I like her take on it and how she expressed Cho's emotions, very raw and believable"

Jane’s Death – Cho’s POV

by stella bryce

It had happened so fast, these types of things usually do. We were standing in the CBI parking lot, having paused to watch Lisbon, Van Pelt and Rigsby getting into their SUV.  Jane had bet me ten dollars that Van Pelt would be the one to drive – I said it would be Lisbon. When Grace got in the driver’s seat Jane flashed that smile of his and looked at me. I pursed my lips, reached inside my pocket to take the ten dollars out and had handed it to him. Our fingers had touched as he took the bill from my hand, and my eyes shot to his in a moment of nervousness. His blue eyes were looking at my brown ones amusedly, and I realized I hadn’t let go of the money.

Shit. Real cool Cho. Real cool.

I slowly let the bill go, had I pulled my hand away too quickly, it might have revealed the secret that I’d been keeping from everyone.  Even after I let go of the money, Jane kept his gaze aimed at me. Did he feel the same shock of electricity that I did whenever we accidentally touched? Had he noticed my reaction? Would I ever be able to look away from his eyes? I didn’t have to answer that, a fews seconds later Jane stepped past me, stopping when we were side by side to lean closer to me.

“Last ten bucks? No worries Cho. I’ll buy you dinner after work tonight...just you and me...Sofia’s…seven o’clock.” he said, and started to walk away.

I was thinking how grateful I was that he took my reaction to our hands touching as me not wanting to let go of my last ten bucks, before the realization hit that Patrick Jane had just said he was taking me out to dinner. I felt a tingle of excitement at the thought of Jane and I spending time – social time – alone together. Did it mean anything?

I felt a small smile begin to form, and had just started turning around to follow him, when the sound of a firing gun filled the air and Jane’s body was thrown backwards. Instinctively I started to reach for my Glock, but then shifted mental gears as I watched his body falling. Instead, I bolted two steps ahead, dropping myself to the ground just in time to catch Jane before he hit the asphalt.

I heard voices: people shouting, people screaming, Lisbon taking control saying: “Cho’s got Jane, Rigsby you’re with me, Van Pelt call dispatch for the paramedics. My peripheral vision registered Rigsby and Lisbon running, guns drawn toward the direction the shot had come from. Van Pelt, her gun also drawn, was talking into her radio calling for help. Other agents began running out of the building, all were after the shooter.

I had no concern for myself. I still hadn’t gotten around to drawing my gun, a major error in judgment some would say because I was essentially defenseles,s with a gunman somewhere close by, but in the back of my mind I knew Van Pelt would cover me. All I could seem to focus on was Patrick.  

I had landed on my knees and caught him, making sure he fell onto me rather than the hard ground. My training kicked in and I moved my hands out from under him letting his upper body lay on my lap. Jane was looking up at me with bewilderment, he was conscious, that was good. I assessed that his airway was clear as my left hand went to his carotid, and my right began opening his coat. His pulse was thready and Jane's eyes closed. I ripped open his vest and shirt to find the source of the blood that was now saturating his clothes. It was crucial that the bleeding be controlled. I knew there was no exit wound, I had felt no blood on my lap and if the bullet had gone through Jane, it would have most likely hit me as as well.

Why couldn’t it have hit me instead? I’d gladly have taken this bullet for him.

I quickly took off my suit coat, rolled it up, and put it over the hole in his chest. By the size of it, and the fact that it hadn’t gone through, I thought it was most likely a .45 that had hit him. Though it was a clean cut, small hole on the outside, I knew the havoc it potentially wreaked on the inside. Did it pierce his heart? A lung? No, not a lung because Jane was breathing clearly and no blood was spilling from his mouth. But his heart.…please don’t let it have hit his heart…I pressed my jacket even more firmly on the wound.

I'd never even heard the sirens, but the paramedics were suddenly there taking over. I was pushed aside as they assessed, tried to stabilize and finally moved Jane to the ambulance. All I could do was watch, everything felt surreal. I was vaguely aware of someone putting their hand on my shoulder, most likely Van Pelt, but I pulled away and followed the paramedics to the ambulance climbing right in alongside Jane. None of the paramedics questioned it, and I didn’t bother getting the okay from Lisbon, or even looking back. I was going with Jane and that was final, there was no point in debating it with anyone. If Lisbon wanted to write me up for breaking protocol, so be it.

The ambulance began moving, and as one of the EMTs continued working on him, I, for the first time, didn’t resist the impulse to touch Jane. I took his hand in mine and, finding it cold and clammy, placed my other hand on top and gripped firmly to hold his hand between my two. I looked at him lying there and felt, I think for the first time in my life, true fear. Please don’t die. Please God don’t let him die. I became aware then that my breathing had become fast and uneven. I was feeling what might have been the start of a panic attack, such a thing had never happened to me before.

There was movement. Jane shook his head and opened his eyes, confusion clearly showing on his face, as his eyes looked to the right where the EMT was still working on him, then to the left where I sat by his side. It never occurred to me to drop his hand. He looked at me and I stared back, afraid that I might never have the chance again to look into those beautiful blues.

Do you know how much I wish it were me lying there instead of you? Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand and to look into your eyes? Do you know that I'd give anything…anything to….Something was happening and it shook me out of my thoughts. The EMT had quickly grabbed a syringe and injected something in to Jane’s IV, he had a concerned look on his face and had already started reaching for the defibrillator. I felt my panic pick up right where it had left off before Jane had opened his eyes.

“He’s crashing!” the EMT said as he started to place the paddles on Jane’s chest. I took my hands away from Jane’s quickly, and watched as his body jolted, feeling once again like it was all surreal. This couldn’t be really happening.

********************************************************************      

             
The next several hours felt like several days. By the time the rest of the team got to the hospital Jane was already in surgery. I felt like I was on auto-pilot as I relayed everything that had happened to them. Well, everything except the hand holding, and the thoughts that had been running through my mind as we had been looking into each other’s eyes.

We all settled into our roles as we waited. Van Pelt, the eternal optimist, kept reassuring everyone that Jane would be ok. Rigsby, nervous and unsure of what to do, kept making trips to the vending machine. Lisbon was alternating between sitting in the chair by the window, and standing to stare out of it. She often glanced my way. And me, I was pacing back and forth, up and down the long hallway that connected the waiting area to the operating room.

Over and over in my mind I replayed the whole scene. If only I hadn’t taken the stupid bet, then we wouldn't have stopped walking to see who had won, and who had lost. We’d have already been to the car, and I’d have maybe even been pulling out of the lot by the time the gunman had shot. That gunman was now dead, killed by Rigsby, and it turns out he was actually after someone else, but had such bad aim that the bullet ricocheted and hit Jane instead. Damn it! 

I felt my hands clench in to fists, then made an effort to open them back up as not to give away any outward hint of emotion. A stupid bet! That bullet ended up hitting Jane all because I played along with one of his stupid bets. My fist was rising to hit the closest wall when the OR doors opened and the surgeon came through. All of us headed toward him to hear the outcome. Jane had made it though the surgery, the bullet had been removed. One of the small fragments had nicked his heart and it was only by some miracle that neither of his lungs had been punctured. The surgeon looked tired; he and his team had been working on Jane for hours, and had done all that could be done. The next few hours, we were told, were crucial. If Jane survived them his odds of living a good, long life increased greatly. But it was touch and go till then.

We were officially allowed in one at a time, but unofficially all three of us stood in the room watching Jane fighting for his life while hooked up to various machines. None of us said a word, but as I stood at the side of the bed, still internally blaming myself for all this happening over a damn ten dollar bet, I felt a hand touch my arm. I turned my head to see Lisbon looking at me with a sympathetic, but questioning, expression. She opened her mouth to say something when the unthinkable happened. Jane’s heart monitor began sounding off and in seconds the room was filled with medical personnel and a crash cart. I vaguely recall Lisbon pulling me away from the bedside and hearing one of the nurses ordering us all to leave.

It was all happening so fast. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to leave Jane here with all these strangers. I watched as one of the doctors placed the paddles on Jane’s chest, yelled “clear” and hit him with an electric shock – for the second time today I saw Jane’s body jolt.

I heard Lisbon’s voice say my name, felt her pull me the rest of the way out of the room. Van Pelt and Rigsby were already in the hallway, and now all of us stared through the open blinds into the room where they were trying to save Patrick Jane.

God please don’t let him die. I’ll do anything just don’t take him away. I can’t lose this man. I just can’t. Please... please! But my silent pleading did no good. Seven minutes later I saw the doctor look at the clock on the wall…read his lips as he announced the time of death, saw them turn off the monitor which still showed an unmoving red line.

I heard Van Pelt begin to softly cry, heard Lisbon quietly say, “oh no,” and heard Rigsby clear his throat in an effort, I suspect, to not cry. I felt emotionless and cold, as if this still was all a bad dream that I would awaken from at any moment. The medical team came out. The doctor offered condolences and let us know we could go in and say goodbye before they took the body away.

Van Pelt cried a bit harder and Rigsby turned to her and put her arms around her. She buried her head against his chest and cried. Once the doctor walked away there was a moment of silence before Lisbon asked if anyone wanted to go in to say goodbye. Van Pelt wiped her eyes, nodded at Lisbon then looked at Rigsby. The two of them went in the room together, leaving Lisbon and I standing alone in the hallway. She looked at me, surveying me carefully before saying: “Cho, do you want to go in to say goodbye?”

 NO! No I don’t want to go in there and say ‘goodbye’. I want to go in there and be greeted by one of Jane’s chipper greetings. I want to go in there and see his bright smile, the one that makes me a get that funny feeling in my stomach. I want to go in there and say how sorry I am that this happened and tell him…tell him…dammit… I don’t know exactly what I want to tell him, but I want to tell him something and that something is definitely not ‘goodbye’  I looked at Lisbon and concentrated on keeping my voice calm.

“Yeah. Alone. I’ll go last.” I said.

Lisbon nodded, touched my arm, then turned and went into the room. I stood there feeling very alone, still telling myself this was just a bad dream. I willed myself to wake up so I could go to the office and see Patrick there, lying on the couch, turning his head toward me with a smile, raising his hand and saying, “Morning Cho!” as I walked in. He had done it this morning, as he had every morning since his second day on the job.

How was I ever going to be able to go to work without longing to see him there? How was I going to make it through the days without him in that office?  I honestly didn’t know. But it didn’t matter because this was a dream – a bad dream – the worst dream that I've ever had.

When the others were done I slowly stepped into the room and closed the door. I stood there for a long minute looking at Jane. I closed the blinds so that nobody in the hallway could see us. I went to the side of the bed and looked down at Patrick, waiting for him to open his eyes, point at me and say “gotcha!”   Gotcha indeed. If only he had known how true that was. He had me from the start in one way or another. 

I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. My chest and throat felt tight as I reached out and took his hand. It was cold just like it had been in the ambulance all those hours ago, only then it was due to hypovolaemic shock, now it was due to death. The simple act of taking his hand caused the reality of the situation to hit me. This was no dream. Patrick Jane was dead. The emotions that I had been keeping hidden inside all this time erupted and I choked on my words as tears began to fall.

“You’re gone. You’re really gone…”

I dropped my head onto him and closed my eyes. I wanted to feel his chest rise and fall. I wanted to hear his heart beating. I waited to feel his hand come up and rest on my head, to comfort me and tell me it was time to wake up from the nightmare. I waited, but nothing changed. No chest rising and falling, no heartbeat, no hand on me and no Jane’s voice telling me to wake up. I suddenly felt as lifeless as the body my head was resting on. That’s all it was now, a body, Jane was gone. I needed to accept that. I slowly sat up, but still held his hand in mine. I looked at our hands, at the way his fit so nicely in mine. I wondered how it would feel if he was able to hold mine back.

“I always wondered what it would be like to touch you.” I said to him. “Did you ever know that? I always wondered…if you knew. You with your keen observations. I kept up a good façade, but did you ever sense how I felt? Sometimes I thought you did.”

I looked at him, waiting for him to answer me. Of course he didn’t.

“You know,” I continued, “about now we’d be at Sofia’s. You know, I was pretty elated for a few moments there, that you had asked me to have dinner with you.  It made me wonder even more if you knew how I felt. Did your invitation mean anything? Or was it just dinner?” I paused again hoping for an answer. Nothing. I looked down again at our hands.

“Anyway, we’d be there now. Me trying to maintain my calm. To hide the nervous school boy on his first date feelings that would have been running through me.”

I laughed before continuing.

“Listen to me…I called it a ‘date’. I don’t have a clue if this was a ‘date’. It could have just been two co-workers having dinner. You feeling you owed me for taking my last ten bucks. By the way, it wasn’t my last ten bucks. I know I don’t have the money you have, but come on - ten bucks? I had a fifty in my wallet. I’d have never told you that though. Would've been afraid you’d have cancelled our dinner.” I laughed, “Funny, you didn’t ask me to dinner really, you told me you were taking me to dinner. Why would you assume I didn’t have plans? Maybe you assumed if I did have plans I’d cancel them to have dinner with you. You always were a bit too arrogant for your own good.”

I put my head down again onto his body. My voice was muffled because of it as I said: “Your assumption would have been right though. I'd have cancelled any plans to have dinner with you. I'd have pretty much done anything for you Jane, all you ever had to do was ask. If only you'd come back. It's only now that I've figured out that I love you. Too late. Now you’re gone, and I don't know how I'll go on without you."

I closed my eyes, felt my chest get tighter. I knew I had to get a grip and not let myself fall apart – not with the team right out there in the hallway. They were probably wondering what was taking me so long. I had to force myself to accept that I had lost him. I felt so defeated, so shaken. Eyes still closed, I took a deep breath, was trying to force myself to sit up. I still held Jane’s hand. I didn’t want to, and couldn’t, let go of that hand. I gripped it tighter. Then the impossible happened. I heard his voice.

“Cho!” he gasped.

I was startled and sat up thinking surely I imagined it, but I hadn’t. There was Jane, eyes opened and looking at me. I had no idea what to think. Was I losing my mind? My hand began acting on its own and compulsively started gripping and releasing Jane’s hand. My breathing quickened. I was shocked and couldn’t seem to process anything, all I could do was look at him, not sure if I could trust my eyes and ears.

Jane frowned and reached out to touch my face with his free hand.

“Cho?” he said, as his hand made contact. My mouth dropped open, literally. I felt it! I had actually felt the touch of his hand. This has to be real. But it can’t be real. I gripped his hand tighter, and was snapped back into some form of reality.

“Here! In here! He’s back!” I yelled.

In a moment doctors and nurses filled the room, looking like they had seen a ghost. Once over the immediate shock, they quickly began working on him, shoving me aside. I stood there in the corner, trying to makes sense of what was happening. I heard one of them say his blood pressure was rising dangerously high. I heard Jane telling them to back off, that he was revoking his permission for them to do anything more until they let me back by his side. Despite their protests, that they needed to get his blood pressure under control, he didn’t back down. They looked at me and nodded me back over.

I stepped up to Jane’s bedside and, forgetting myself, took his hand. Soon his blood pressure began to even out. The doctors continued examining, saying it was a miracle and that they had never seen anything like this happen before. All initial assessments seemed to say that he was going to be okay. His heart was beating strong. His mental acuity was most certainly intact. That of course was easy to figure out due to the comments Jane kept making to, and about, them. They eventually left the room to get the additional medications he’d need, and saying he needed rest. One of the nurses said she’d go tell the rest of the team, they had gone to the cafeteria. It was suddenly and strangely quiet.

So it was real. Patrick Jane was alive. He was back in my life just like that. I wasn’t aware that I was mouthing my thoughts, which I was repeating over and over in my head like a mantra. You were gone. Dead. You were gone. Dead….”

Jane pulled on my hand to urge me closer. He was looking at me with a frown then said, “What is it?”

I still couldn’t quite believe this was real. I remembered how he had been lying here - dead - and pain filled my heart all over again. I took a deep breath and felt shaky as I looked at Jane, and said, “You were gone. Dead.”

Jane shook his head, I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. “No, I wasn’t. I was here, sleeping. Had the strangest dream.”

My eyes widened. My God, was this all an elaborate joke? Was this possibly one of Jane’s antics? How the hell could he have pulled that off? Would he do such a cruel thing?

I suddenly felt angry at the thought that he might play such a trick. Didn’t he know how much that would hurt? No, even Jane couldn pull something like that off. I was here! I saw the machines!

 I looked him in the eyes, “No! You were dead. I was here, you flatlined. They worked on you for seven minutes then gave up. They called it. You were dead!” 

My emotions were all over the place; joy as well as surprise that he was alive, anger that he might have been playing a joke this whole time, sadness still lingering because he had been dead. I was an emotional mess and knew I needed to reel myself in and get control.

Thankfully it was that moment that Lisbon, Rigsby and Van Pelt came rushing in. Instinctively, I removed my hand from his and put it on the bedrail before they could notice. I barely heard what they were saying, I became very focused on keeping some semblance of self control. I put on my usual, unreadable face while Lisbon was trying to make Jane understand that he had died. 

She finally got the message through.

Jane, said: “Dead? But...you mean….dead?” he said, then he looked at me.

It was really taking every effort to feign a state of calm, my jaw was clenched. Jane hadn’t been playing a joke, he really had died, he really had come back, and now he understood it all. I wanted to lean toward him, embrace him. I wanted to hold him, comfort him, and tell him it was all okay because he was alive now and that’s what mattered. But instead, I took my hand off the bedrail, leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms over my chest before saying, “As a doornail.”

How cold that had sounded. I knew it even before I said it, but I was so damned intent on hiding my feelings for this man from my co-workers that I said it anyway.

The nurse came in and I was grateful because she gave Jane his meds and told us, without telling us, that we needed to leave because Patrick needed to rest. She suggested we return several hours later. The others said their goodbyes and cleared out. I stood up last, feeling like a coward as I looked in to Jane’s eyes, wanting to tell him…I love you…but instead, backing away from him slowly. Jane was watching me. I accidentally thought out loud, “You were gone….” And I’m just as alone now as I was when you were dead. I felt lost and defeated as I turned and left the room without looking back.

My car still in the CBI lot, I declined offers of a ride home and took a taxi. I wasn't up for talking about the events of this day to anyone. As I took the money out of my wallet to pay the cab driver, I was reminded how Jane thought he had taken my last ten bucks. As I took a frozen dinner out of my freezer, I was reminded how Jane had asked me to dinner tonite. I put the dinner back in the freezer and went in to my bedroom unbuttoning my shirt as I went and taking if off when I got there tossing it into the hamper. As I looked at my bed, I wondered if after we had that dinner would have possibly…

NO! Stop that train of thought immediately! The man died and you’re wondering if he’d have slept with you after dinner! I shook my head vigorously to clear it before undressing the rest of the way and heading into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

I stood under the hot spray and became unglued. I blame it on all the events of the day, they finally overwhelmed me. I leaned forward resting my forehead on the wall under the showerhead and began to cry for the second time today. First I cried for Jane being shot, then for Jane dying, then for it all being my fault, then for missed opportunities. Finally I shed tears of joy that he was alive, that he had come back. I had a second chance. But, would I be able to work up the courage to tell him? If he didn’t feel the same way I’d make a fool of myself, I’d ruin everything. He’d want to stay away from me. I’d lose him again, just in a different way.

The tears finally dried up. I took a deep healing breath and began to soap myself up. I thought about Jane some more, again found myself wondering how the evening would have played out had the tragedy not occurred. I closed my eyes and imagined us at Sofia’s talking, smiling and laughing. How I loved Jane’s smile, and the way his blue eyes danced with amusement, often at his own cleverness. I smiled at the thought.

After dinner, perhaps we’d have come back here to my place. Jane had mentioned wanting to read a book that I had recently finished, so why shouldn’t I ask him if he wanted to come in and get the paperback? We’d be standing as I handed him the book, our hands would touch just like they had when he took the ten dollars from me. I could see it all so clearly in my mind. I’d look at him, and he’d look at me, only this time instead of me slowly taking my hand away I’d keep it still. Jane would look at me and pull me toward him, till we were so close that I'd feel his breath on my face. After a long moment he’d close the gap, and would kiss me, pulling my whole body against him as he did. Ohhh God...how good it would feel to be that close to him.

I felt like my head had just about hit the pillow when my cell rang. Instantly awake, I grabbed it and greeted the caller with “Agent Cho”.  It was the hospital. My first instinct was to panic, but then the doctor was saying that Jane was upset, fighting meds that should have been sufficient enough to put a man twice his size to sleep, and asking for me. They were sorry to be asking, but wondered if I would mind coming back to the hospital so ‘the annoying man’ could heal.

I was already out of bed, grabbing some clothes, before they had even asked if I would mind coming back. I smiled at the annoying man comment and told them I was on my way. Patrick was restless when I arrived, but seemed to calm once his drug addled mind registered that I was there. He grabbed my hand and I held his back all night long while settled into a chair that the nurses had made as comfortable for me as they could with a pillow and blanket – which still wasn’t very comfortable – but I appreciated the effort. I, for once, didn’t care if anyone came in and saw me holding this man’s hand. Jane had asked for me, this had to mean something. It had to. I dozed off and on as Jane slept peacefully for the rest of the night. I was tired, but happy, and at peace with myself and my feelings for Patrick. I had completely convinced myself that the fact that he asked for me meant he felt the same way. He could have asked for anyone, but he asked for me.

Around 7 a.m. his eyes began to flutter open and I knew he was waking. I couldn’t resist speaking.

“About time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty,” I said trying not to smile. I felt hopeful – joyous even.

Jane finally managed to get his eyes all the way open and looked at me. He smiled and my heart sang. I’m surprised nobody could hear it.

“Cho. You’re here.” he said softly. He had the most beautiful expression on his face, one I hadn’t seen before. It nearly took my breath away.

I got my senses back and said with a bit of a jokingly sarcastic tone, “Of course I’m here. You wouldn’t rest until I came back.”

I couldn’t stop the small smile that played on my face.

“Huh?” Jane said, clearly confused. He must have then noticed I was holding his hand because he looked down at them. I felt nervous all of a sudden, but I also felt a warmth spread through me, and that same tingle of excitement I had had when our hands had accidentally touched while exchanging the bet money the day before. I was so tired…maybe I was imagining this all afterall.

Patrick tightened his grip on my hand and I automatically tightened mine back. I felt a surge of love flow through me. There was no doubt: I was in love with Patrick Jane. He looked up at me, I had no idea what he was thinking.

“Oh!” he said suddenly, and tried to sit upright, wincing at the unexpected pain he felt. I stood and settled him back comfortably as he said, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

My heart began beating faster. Was Jane about to tell me he loved me? I felt sure of it and couldn’t stop a smile from forming.

“What’s that?” I asked, and I allowed myself to stroke my thumb up and down the back of Jane’s hand.  There was no turning back now.

Jane looked at me, kept looking at me. There was something going on in those eyes of his, but what was it? The wait was killing me so I prompted him, hoping so much that I’d hear him profess his love for me, and that he’d figured out that I loved him too.

“Something you wanted to tell me, Jane?”

“Well,” Jane said, he grinned, then looked toward the door before looking back at me and continuing, “It’s going to sound silly.”

I raised an eyebrow. I was both amused and intrigued. He was obviously having a bit of a hard time coming out and saying the words so I thought I’d lighten things up a bit.

“As silly as the reason I got called back up here after a half hour of sleep?”

Jane blinked, “You.... What?”

I smiled. Jane was a bit flustered and I loved that.

“You were in distress, fighting sleep and the meds, calling my name. The docs finally called and asked me to ‘please come and calm the annoying man down so that he can heal.’ So I dragged myself out of bed and came up here, where you promptly latched onto my hand like it was a favorite teddy bear and finally slept. Not that I got much rest.”  I was smiling, like the cat that just ate the canary.

“Erm. Sorry?” Jane said with an odd tone in his voice.

“Eh, we’ll talk payback later.” I said with amusement, wondering if he understood that payback had nothing to do with money.

Jane kept staring at me, for the first time since I’d met him he looked like he had been caught at something. Suddenly he blurted out, “My wife and child told me to stop being an idiot.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I straightened my posture and pulled back slightly, preparing myself for whatever was coming next. I raised an eyebrow and said, “Go on.”

Jane tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me in closer, till I was in the same position I had been in before. Then he continued, “In that dream. It had to be a dream. I don’t believe in an afterlife.” Jane paused then his voice became wistful, “It was nice though.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.  I was frustrated. What was he going to say to me?

“Jane!” I said urging him to continue. My voice sounded like a low growl, betraying my attempt at appearing calm.

Jane shook himself out of it, “Right, sorry. This is for your ears only; definitely do not tell Grace or I’ll never hear the end of it!”

I smiled at the shared joke and took a slow, deep breath…still preparing for whatever he was going to say, or maybe not say.

“They told me I was being an idiot, missing something right in front of me,” at this Jane slowly raised his free hand and lightly, a bare whisper of a touch, stroked my face, “They told me that I was loved. That I also loved, in spite of myself. That I needed, and was needed. That I had someone to make it worth hanging around for even after Red John…” his voice trailed off.

I could hardly breathe while staring at Jane’s mouth. Was there someone else? How would I miss something like that? Or was he speaking of me? I didn’t know what to think. My head was spinning. Finally I couldn’t take it, I was barely able to find my voice, all I could muster was a whispered, “Who?”

Jane smiled, “Agent Cho, for an investigator you make a lousy detective.” he shrugged, and whispered, “It’s you.”

I felt my world shift. I closed my eyes.

Thank you God

I felt happiness, hope, and an excitement that I never had before. I gave in to my desires and leaned forward, pressing my cheek against Jane’s and feeling like my normal self, I simply said, “It’s about time you saw it. Idiot.”

“Hey….” Jane started to jokingly protest, but I couldn’t stand it anymore and pressed my lips lightly to his. I stroked his face, completely relishing the feel of his skin. He didn’t resist. In fact he only broke the kiss to shift over in the bed and tug my hand saying, “C’mere.”

 I didn’t think twice about it, didn’t care if our co-workers walked in and caught us. I loved this man and I was not going to hide it any longer. I lied next to him, and gently, carefully wrapped my arms around him. I would stay here with him as long as he wanted me to. He made me feel things I had never felt before. I smiled as Jane rested his head on my chest and sighed as if he had just returned home from a long solo journey.  From now on we would journey together.