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Jane hadn’t been awake long – that much, he knew, but he wasn’t sure if it was the rustling coming from outside or if it was his old friend Insomnia who had startled him. Slowly, he sat up, looking towards the picture window. Something had brushed against a tree, knocking pine needles their way. A muffled thump sounded. On impulse, Jane reached across his sleeping wife towards the nightstand, pulling out the loaded weapon she kept for times like this, hoping that he wouldn’t need to use it. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he wasn't willing to take a chance with his family, would rather risk looking a fool if there was no threat.
“Patrick, what are you doing?” Lisbon's sleepy voice startled him, blinking at him in the dark.
“I heard a noise. I’m going to go check it out. Stay here okay?” He patted her arm.
“M’kay,” Within seconds, her breathing had slowed once more. At seven months pregnant, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to sleep for long periods of time, despite her lingering exhaustion and Jane had vowed to do everything in his power to ensure she was safe and rested. Pregnant Lisbon shouldn’t have to deal with things that go bump in the night. Stopping to toe on his loafers, he stepped through the back door, waiting for it fully close before he ventured into the small clearing. It was almost pitch black, save for a bended strip of white from the left. Jane tightened his grip on the gun, trying at using his bio-feedback tricks to calm his breathing.
“Patrick.”
“Danny?” He managed to keep his voice from shaking. Once he had found himself wondering if Danny would forever consider him a brother – after all this time, and now –
“Listen, I know it’s late, but I needed to talk.” The taller man pushed forward, brushing a hand through his hair. Jane chastised himself for not expecting to see him sooner.
“Come on in - but keep your voice down.” Jane held the door open, reaching around to switch the lamp on and set Lisbon’s Glock on a bookshelf.
“I heard rumors. I had to see it for myself,” Ignoring the offered chair, Danny looked around with his arms crossed, wearing an expression Jane had once been familiar with.
“Yeah, well, no one’s been able to get in touch with you for a while,” Spoke Jane. The last time he’d bothered to ask Sam if she’d seen him, he’d received a ‘that boy doesn’t want to be found, Paddy. Best leave him be ‘less he shows up at your front door.’ Jane figured the back door held equal weight.
“You moved on.” Danny picked up the grocery list Jane had left on the counter the day before, filled with Lisbon's messy scrawl.
“Moved on? That’s what you think this is?” On impulse, his right hand went to his left where his new wedding ring sat, a becoming deep gray. “I moved forward.” He wanted to voice that he loved Angela with all of his heart, just like he had a decade ago – and the decade before that when they were just kids. And at the same time, he loved Teresa with everything he had. It never would have occurred to him how this would feel. “I’m happy again. There’s no comparing the two situations, Danny. But you know your sister would want you to be happy too,”
“Who’s to say I’m not?” Daniel asked in a growl. He had crossed over to the kitchen, leaning against the fridge.
“Let me guess, you recently were let out on good behavior. You’ve been staying with a friend from the circuit looking for work. And you’re dissatisfied with where you’re at, yet reluctant to return to the fold.” The scowl that followed Jane’s words let him know he hit home. “What did you think you’d achieve by coming here?” In the near silence of the Janes’ kitchen, the question seemed to echo.
“Maybe I made a mistake,” Danny said, rising from his position to leave.
“Maybe, maybe not.” He made a move to block the door. Daniel Ruskin was still family, through and through. It looked as if the man might be nearing the end of his rope – and needing counsel, needing closure of some sort he decided to see Jane once more. No doubt his grief was intact though his resentment towards Jane had lessened to a degree. “I can find you work, Danny. You remember Pete Barsocky? He’s in Batrsop for the season.” His mind flashed back to one blistering hot summer where he and Angela joined forces to keep Danny out of harm’s way. The kid was fourteen going on twenty-one and had less impulse control than Jane, even. “I’ll do what I can to help you…it’s what your sister would have wanted. Angela would set her hands on her hips, golden hair framing her face. Even now, Jane could hear her say; “Danny, you’re going nowhere with that attitude.” He'd resented her attempts at interference, but since her passing, it was clear he would've done anything to rewrite the script he'd been reading off of as a kid.
“What’s the catch?” Though interested, there was no way Danny wasn’t folding unless he knew what Paddy’s plans consisted of.
“No catch,” Jane threw up his hands in a placating gesture. It would have been in Danny’s nature of course, to form an argument and slip away, but the mentalist knew he’d stay, that he’d heard too much. “Tell me, when are you likely to receive another opportunity like this?”