On the run (Mentalist Fanfiction)

Chapter three: Fainted Memories

How's it going guys! 22 readers in 2 days :D I'm so happy, people are actually reading this story! Thank you guys so much. If you have ideas for this story, feel free to message me! I would love to hear your ideas. Anyway, I can write a lot now because i'm laying with a icepack on my knee. Made a wrong move with it I guess. Idk, it's very stupid. But i've got a lot of time to write now! So, what'll happen with Lisbon? Will Red John kill her? And how's Jane mental health? Is he going to lose it? So many questions. And I don't know the answers yet. However, let's continue with the story!

Then he remembered it. A wave of sadness overflowed him and a tear slid down on his cheek. He wiped it away, Looking at the white sheets. He imagined his daughter Charlotte, playing piano. He closed his weary blue eyes and tried to remember what clue could be hidden in this painful memory.

"Jane, are you alright?" Asked Van Pelt, gently taking place on the edge of the hospital bed. She looked at him. His skin was still pale and the dark circles under his eyes told her he hadn't slept properly since the abduction of their boss Lisbon. The always talkative consultant was completely silent now, which was very strange. He was looking at the bright white sheets which were laying cluttered on the hospital bed. She could tell he was thinking about something painful, derived from the look on his face. His eye color has faded from blue to grey, which meant he was sad. Grace noticed the tear on his cheek. Jane quickly wiped it away before she could say anything about it. She wanted to comfort him, but she knew this wouldn't be a good idea. He would probably be embarrassed and would probably refuse the help she was offering. He still hadn't said anything, which made her worry. Where was he with his thoughts?

"Daddy! Will you please read me a story before you go?" A young girl with long curly blond hair jumped in front of him, looking at him with her bright blue eyes. The man with the same blonde curls was standing in front of the mirror, straightening his hair backwards. The two of them were standing in the bathroom. "Didn't you learn to knock?" Asked Patrick Jane murmurous, lifting up the little girl and placing her down on the free, flat space of the washbasin. "You taught me not to knock" Giggled the girl, rolling her golden locks around her small index finger. "Don't try to look innocent on me Miss Charlotte I-can-go-wherever-I-want Jane" He smirked, lifting her up in the air which made the little girl giggle loudly. "Did you try to learn more songs on the piano?" Charlotte nodded in response and wrapped her arms around her father's neck. "Will you play for me?" Asked Jane, while turning off the lights in the bathroom. He walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him, still holding his little angel who was still hugging him. He went downstairs after checking all the rooms if his wife, Angela Ruskin was there. She wasn't upstairs, which meant she was cooking something delicious in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he couldn't have dinner with his family this evening because he needed to go to a show where he would help the cops catch a serial killer named Red John. His appearance on the well-watched show should rise his popularity, which meant: more people on his show. And that meant: more money. As he walked downstairs, he smell the aroma of the famous, delicious pasta with tomato sauce Angela often made. She knew Charlotte and her husband liked it a lot.