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To say he was angry would be the understatement of the year.
He was livid. More than that, actually. He was blazing with fury, and it was all because of a certain brunette who insisted on putting herself in danger all the damn time.
Teresa Lisbon was a hard-assed cop; he knew that. Everyone knew that. But just because she was fine with danger didn't make her immune to it. She seemed to have trouble understanding that.
He knew that her job was to fight crime and protect people, and it was something she excelled at. She was the best agent he knew. But being a cop means dangerous things could happen with dangerous people. He still wasn't used to that, wasn't used to seeing her in harm's way. It frustrated him that he couldn't do anything about it. He could try and protect her, and he usually did, but what would happen if he wasn't around? He wasn't there when she got shot once, wasn't there when she was left in a house with a bomb. It drove him insane that he couldn't be there to help her.
Lisbon was the type of woman to insist she could do anything and everything without assistance. She was her own boss, and it was something he admired about her. But sometimes her stubbornness pushed him to the very edge, and this was one of those times.
He'd long fallen off that edge ever since she stumbled into the CBI with a busted lip and blood sliding down the side of her face.
"Lisbon?!" His voice was alarmed as he rushed to her side, getting a closer look at her injuries. Her left eye was starting to bruise, the color of her skin turning a mottled purple. "What the hell happened?"
She waved off his concern. "I'm fine, Jane."
Of course she would say that. The almighty Lisbon never got hurt. "You're clearly not fine and that isn't what I asked."
She huffed. "I had to tackle some guy down; he put up a fight. Everything's fine."
"So he punched you?" His fists clenched at his sides. If he saw the guy, he was going to give him a piece of his mind.
"Among other things." She trekked to her office, obviously not worried about her bruising eye, bleeding lip, or throbbing temple, which he knew had to hurt.
"Lisbon, you need to see a doctor."
She snorted. "That's rich coming from you, Mr. Doctors-Are-Unnecessary-And-Useless."
He ignored her comment. "I'm serious. You're bleeding."
"Well, getting hit with a gun will do that to you." She started to shuffle through her case files, unnerved.
"He had a gun?!" Jane was more than just worried now; he was infuriated. "You could've gotten shot!"
"Calm down. Rigsby was with me; he managed to get the gun away before he could do any damage."
"And if he wasn't with you?" Jane saw red in the corners of his eyes. "What would've happened then? The guy would've shot you."
Lisbon sighed and turned to him, but he couldn't stand looking at her marred face. The thought of her in a dangerous situation terrified him and left him feeling sick. She could've died, and she was acting like everything was perfectly fine.
"Jane, relax, okay? I'm fine. See? Completely fine." She plopped down at her desk and hunched over her files. "Getting hurt comes with the job. I'm trained for it. I know what I'm doing."
Her words frustrated him. How could she say that? Just because she's okay with getting hurt didn't mean he was. He hated this job for her, but never spoke on it because he knew how much she loved it. She loved helping people and giving them justice and catching bad guys. It was something she was good at. Nothing could pull her away from her job.
He didn't want to pull her away from it, he just wanted her to be careful. But she never was. She just threw herself into peril without thinking. She was so focused on saving someone's life rather than protecting her own. She was so selfless and it fucking scared him.
Couldn't she see that her life mattered too?
Steadying his breathing, he spoke in a low voice. "You could've died, Lisbon. You could always die and you never seem to care."
She jumped at a response. "Because it's my job."
He clenched his jaw. "You always say that. But what do you think would happen to people if you were killed? What do you think would happen to me?"
His question held so much intensity that she had to meet his eyes, which were dark instead of their usual brightness. The sea in his eyes brewed into a storm, almost startling her. She'd never seen him look so...profound.
"I don't know," she eventually answered softly. "You'd move on?"
He let out a harsh laugh, but he wasn't at all amused. "You've seen how hard it is for me to do that. I wouldn't be able to just move on if you died, Lisbon. I would fucking kill myself."
"Don't say that, Jane. It's not true."
"It is true!" He saw her eyes dart quickly to the door, afraid someone could hear them, but at the moment he really didn't give a damn. He needed to get this through her head, needed her to know that he'd be blasted into pieces without her. He needed her like he needed lungs to breathe.
She still didn't look convinced. "Look, Jane, we're friends and we care about each other. I get that. But...let's be honest, okay? If I died, you might be sad for a little while, but you'd get over it. You'd move on. I'm not your wife or daughter. My death wouldn't affect you as much as theirs did."
She wasn't getting it. His throat felt tight, like he was swallowing down sandpaper. He didn't want to think about her lying lifeless on the ground, her gorgeous green eyes blank. He couldn't handle it. He would lose himself.
"You don't understand," he whispered. "I've already lost my wife and daughter. I can't lose you too. You're the most important person in my life, Teresa. The only person I really care about."
His confession and the use of her first name left her aghast. She saw nothing but sincerity in his now-gentle eyes. She almost swore she saw them shining, but that could just be her mind playing tricks on her.
Because surely she couldn't mean that much to him.
"If I ever lost you…" he swallowed desperately. "I can't even stomach the thought."
Sympathy clouded her eyes. "You're not going to lose me, Jane. I'm right here."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Teresa. One of these days you're gonna be in a situation where you'll need my help and I won't be there. I won't be able to save you."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don't need saving."
"I don't care. I've said it once and I'll say it again— I'm always going to save you, Teresa. Whether you like it or not."
Just like his other promises, she didn't doubt this one for a second.
Standing up, she crossed over the threshold to him and looked up at him with an indignant expression. She was three inches shorter than her blonde consultant, but she always managed to make him feel less superior. It was one of her many talents.
With a shaky hand, he brushed his fingers along the lip that was caked with dry blood. Even bruised and dented, she was still beautiful. Achingly so.
"I can't make you stop doing what you love," he murmured, "and I won't try to. But you need to be careful out there. Really careful."
"I am careful," she said stubbornly.
"You need to be more careful." He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along the bone of it. He was surprised she let him. She even looked content with the soft touch.
"I'm gonna be out in dangerous situations, Jane. That's just how it is. You need to accept that."
"Just because I know it doesn't mean I'm any less afraid of what could happen to you."
She looked at him through her lashes. "Do I really mean that much to you?"
He ached to kiss her, the craving so large he felt he was going to explode if he refrained himself. But he did anyway. "Teresa, you mean everything to me. I was too much of a coward to tell you before, but today I nearly lost you and I can't go through another day without telling you how I feel."
Her eyes were glassy with emotion. Without a word he took her into his arms and hugged her tight, resting his chin atop her head while her own laid against his chest.
Eventually, she said into his chest, "you mean everything to me too. And I wouldn't be able to handle losing you either."
"I guess that makes us in the same boat, then."
"I guess it does."
They stood there for countless minutes, enjoying each other's warmth and presence and heartbeat. They couldn't control the future, didn't have any say in it, but they were living now. And that was all that mattered.
"Lisbon?" He said into her mass of dark curls.
"Hmm?"
"Can you go see a doctor now?"
He made sure to store her laugh into a bottle and stuff it inside his memory palace for the rest of their lives, but he had a feeling he would be hearing that sound many more times in their future together.