Love From Red John-The Mentalist 'Jisbon'

Chapter Seven~Chinchillas

Patrick Jane

She stays curled up next to me as my arm snakes protectively round her shoulders. She seems to be drowsy and sick, not a great combination from past experience. Although I'll be here to look after her and keep a watchful eye on things, something I couldn't have.

I notice that every so often her stomach tenses as though trying to stay still... To stop pain... And her fingers go rigid. I calculate a few possible explanations for these happenings but there's numerous options left with a question mark hovering above.

A couple of moments later she wakes and doubles over. She clutches her side and her breathing is shallow. She sits there bouncing her leg as if that's somehow helping matters and clamping her upper teeth onto her bottom lip, it's almost as if she's forgotten where she is.

'What's wrong?' I ask urgently, not knowing what the hell is happening.

****

Teresa Lisbon

I press my fists into my side hoping to knumb the pain somehow. It hurts when I breathe... I feel Jane's hand on my arm as he looks up at me beneath my curtain of hair. He's saying something but it's as if the discomfort is blocking out all sound. I can just hear the blood rushing in my ears and I'm sure that if I listen closely I can pick up the beat of my heart. I bounce my leg as if that might mentally shake the anguish away, although it doesn't seem to be working.

'It hurts...' I cry. 'It really hurts Jane.'

He pulls me in and rests his head on top of mine. One hand is over my ear, stroking my hair, whilst the other is wrapped around my back.

The pain slowly eases after a minute or two and I feel as though I'm in an impossible situation. Do I pull away and casually walk off? Or do I stay there and enjoy the comfort?

'... How are you now?' He asks. His voice echoes in my ear as it rings throughout his body that's pressed against me. 'I think we need to take you to see a doctor-'

'No... Not a doctor.'

He chuckles and I feel his smile on the top of my head.

'Well what else? A... Chinchilla?'

I pull away and look at him, amused.

'Why a chinchilla?'

'I don't know. They're random, and that was the effect I was going for.'

'They have tiny feet.'

'And huge heads.'

We both sit picturing chinchillas and laughing but suddenly a pain shoots through my side catching me unawares. My hand automatically goes to press into it but I try to disguise it as if I'm putting my hands on my hips ready to get up.

'I'm getting you a doctor's appointment. Where does it hurt?' He asks.

'It's just a stomach bug. I'll be fine tomorrow.'

'First thing I do tomorrow is call them if there's no improvements.'

'Stop fussing.'

'I'm not fussing, I'm worrying. There's a difference.'

'Suit yourself.'

'I will.'

I huff and lean back into the couch folding my arms over my chest. We don't say anything, both of us being too stubborn to speak.