Author's note: Hi! Thanks for giving this a read! This is my first fanfic about the mentalist, and none of the characters belong to me. Moving On is just my thoughts about what could have happened after 7x10, but is in no way what I wanted to happen - I am a Jisbon shipper through and through :) Sorry about all the lines - my computer wouldn't allow for paragraph spacing I'm afraid

I gently squeeze Wylie's shoulder once more as we stand beside her coffin.

His tears are flowing freely now, and he's muttering to himself; or to her rather, underneath his breath. My hands are shaking slightly, and my own tears are stinging at the corners of my eyes. But I hold them in; knowing full well that I need to be strong for the sake of my team. Finally, Wylie looks up at me with this raw pain in his youthful eyes, and I realize for the first time that Vega was more than a boyish crush to him. Perhaps she was even his first love.

"I am so sorry."

He just nods slightly and looks back to the coffin.

I leave him to say his last goodbyes.


Cho sits in the very back of the funeral rows, just staring at his hands.

Not an hour ago I saw him scrubbing them down to the bones, trying without avail to escape the feeling of her warm, sticky blood between his fingers.

I know what that feels like.

"This is not your fault Kimball."

He looks straight through me as I approach; as if his mind is in a place too far gone for me to reel him back to the present. I repeat my words once more, urging him to understand that no one was at fault here, except for her killer.

A single tear threatens to spill from his right eye, and he shakes his head slightly. His eyes are dead, but I can see his mind whirling behind them; playing out every possible scenario that could have happened, but didn't.

I hope that he realises where the blame truly lies before the guilt consumes him.

I leave him to his thoughts.


She stumbles across the park towards her car without noticing me at all.

Her eyes are red, and her hair is tousled, and the look of sadness she carries in her eyes runs so deep that I think it may have fractured her heart.

I slowly approach her slumped frame as she scrambles to find her keys, and lay a light hand on her shoulder. With astonishing speed she whips around; a small flame of hope reigniting within her hollow eyes.

She was hoping for Jane.

Her arms fall limply to her sides and she lowers her head; trying to get a handle on her tears before addressing me.

"Lisbon? Are you okay?"

She nods slightly, but her body betrays her.

Lisbon's hands begin to shake uncontrollably, and each breath she takes hitches slightly in her throat. He really did break her this time.

A small, strangled sob escapes her lips, and I can't help but reach out and take her small shoulders in my hands.

"What did he do?"

Her gaze rises to meet mine slowly; as exhaustion and pain hide any shock she might have over my knowledge of their relationship.

"Nothing," another sob escapes from her pursed lips "I'm fine boss."

I keep my eyes on her as she once again searches for those illusive keys.

A metallic shine by her boot catches my eye, so I scoop the keys up and drop them gently into her outstretched palm.

"Teresa. This is not nothing. I know you're trying to be strong here, but you have to talk to someone."

Running her fingers through her tangled hair, she finally meets my questioning gaze with one of heartbroken sadness.

"He left."

And that was it. He'd her hanging for the hundredth time with no notion of where to go from here.

"Why would he do that? It was so obvious how happy you were together."

My voice comes out gently enough, but I can see my words grating against her pain; leaving a look of bitter cynicism across her face.

Her eyes meet mine one last time as she climbs into her car.

"It wasn't enough." She turns the key in the ignition.

"I wasn't enough to make him stay."


Two weeks since the funeral, and my team continues to search for ghosts in the bullpen. Wylie's eyes never seem to stray far from Vega's desk; his young face tainted with tearstains and pain. I begin to wonder if his enigmatic smile will resurface anytime soon. To a stranger, Cho remains the same stoic man he's been all along. But I see the shadows underneath his eyes, and the slight ruggedness to his appearance that say otherwise. He and Lisbon often sit together in the break room; not talking, but taking comfort in the compatible silence.

At least they have each other to lean on.

Lisbon is getting harder to read with each passing day. She gives me a small smile every morning, and occasionally makes small talk with the other agents in the building; asking about their weekends, but never alluding to her own. Most nights she muddles through paperwork with clouded eyes, staying as long as she can until the cleaners send her home. Then, she returns at the crack of dawn the next morning with two large coffees for her and Cho. I honestly don't think either of them sleep much these days. A week later Cho approaches me to voice his concerns for her health; pointing out her slimmer than usual figure, and the way her cheek and collar bones jut out a little more than they did before.

I just shake my head, and silently marvel at how broken my team has become.

We order in her favourite Thai food for lunch, and I watch as Cho offers her a take away container that she politely refuses. He stoops down to meet her eyes, and gives her hand a quick squeeze.

"You need to eat something."

Her reply is too soft for me to make out, but for the first time since Vega's service I can see tears brimming in her eyes. I take a step closer.

"I get it. But as your friend I'm telling you that not eating isn't going to bring him back. It isn't going to ease your pain, and it certainly isn't putting you in a strong position to keep on working."

She glares back at him defiantly, and replies "and what about you Cho? Do you think that blaming yourself is going to change the past? Bring her back? Because it's not; she's gone as much as Jane is, and I think that's something that you need to come to terms with." Cho looks taken aback for a moment, but soon recovers enough to stand up, push the food back into her palm, and return to his own lunch. She only eats a third of her meal, but it's a start.


I walk towards the elevator at around six, ready to head home after another exhausting day. For the first time in almost a month, both Lisbon and Cho join me in going home early, and for that I am so thankful.

We chat quietly while we wait, just about the current case and where the investigation seems to be leading. It feels like the first streak of normality in a long time. Finally, as the conversation dries up, I feel the need to address a phone call that I received this morning. I just hope that they're ready for this.

"The head of the FBI wants to assign a new member to our division; a rookie agent from the Boston academy. He also suggested hiring a new consultant to help us to see things from a different angle."

Cho closes his eyes, face growing paler by the moment; while Lisbon looks like she could be physically sick. Neither agent replies.

"I've told them that we're not ready for the transfer, not yet. But it has to happen at some stage; you both know that. Life has to go on."

Cho looks up at me with his stoic glare. "And you think that the way to do that is to replace them? To pretend that everything is alright when it isn't?" He glances back at Lisbon, tears streaming down his face. "You keep telling me not to feel guilty Dennis, but it was my fault that she was shot. I should have been watching out for her but I wasn't, and that makes me solely guilty for her death, and everything that came afterwards."

"Cho-"

"Lisbon isn't eating, Wylie is heartbroken, and I can see Vega's face every time I close my eyes. Things are not okay here."

He takes a few shaky breaths, and Lisbon quickly interjects.

"You needn't worry about me, Cho. I'm fine." She says quietly; hastily applying a fake smile that cracks the moment she puts it on. Cho glares at her thin wrists and hollowed-out cheekbones dubiously, before turning back to Abbott and continuing.

"If you think that replacing our missing team members is the way to fix things, then go right ahead. You may just find yourself needing to replace all five of us." He stalks off into the break room and starts angrily slamming cupboards.

"He doesn't mean that." Lisbon says softly as she glides passes me; her eyes still glued to the floor.

I watch as she tries to console him with empty words; watching from the doorframe as he throws glasses and plates to the floor in anguish. Eventually her voice grows strained, and with tears running down her cheeks she takes a seat; just waiting for it all to be over.

Within ten minutes, the break room floor is carpeted with porcelain debris; resulting in Cho slumped over the counter, fighting for each breath.

His tears still haven't stopped falling.

Slowly and cautiously, Lisbon arises from her chair and walks across the shattered dishes towards him. She opens her arms, and envelops him into a tight hug; perhaps hoping that if she squeezes him tight enough, some of his broken pieces might fuse themselves back together. He does nothing at first except shake in her arms, but slowly I see his arms make their way around her small frame, and clasp together just behind her head.

I leave them to their grieving.


Things begin to get better after that.

It's been three months since the funeral, and the ghosts my team were chasing are becoming dimmer by the day. Cho and Lisbon are back in the field with our new rookie, James. They've become more reserved since Vega, but I can see my team trying to make him feel welcome despite the heavy shoes he now must fill. I walk into the bullpen and catch him filling out the paperwork from our most recent case; closed not an hour ago.

"There's no hurry to finish tonight James." I spoke a little too curtly for such youthful enthusiasm, but he didn't seem to notice. With stars in his eyes, he looks up at me; a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Cho and Lisbon went out to buy us all some dinner, so I figured that this was the least I could do." He smiles down at the paperwork in front of him, and murmurs almost unintelligibly under his breath.

"My first case closed pizza."

I walk away smiling.


In my office I mull over the list of new consultants that I have to choose from. From ex-cons, to writers, to artists; the possibilities are so varied that my head starts to hurt just thinking about them all. But for all of their strengths, even I know that Jane is irreplaceable. I call my boss, and let him know that having another consultant will only make things worse for the team. I know that he's just trying to replicate the team dynamic we had before, but eventually I manage to convince him to let this one go.

Who knows, Jane might even come back someday.


Later, I can hear soft laughter echoing through the bullpen for the first time in a long while. I walk out of my office, to see two of my agents carrying large pizzas piled up haphazardly in their arms. One begins to slip from Lisbon's grasp, so I quickly reach forward and catch it before it has a chance to fall.

"Thanks," Lisbon says with a sigh of relief and a gentle chuckle "I thought it was a goner for sure."

I follow her and Cho into the bullpen where James is putting the finishing touches to his paperwork.

"Did you do all of that tonight?" Cho asks with raised eyebrows.

James' cheeks turn a pinkish colour and he nods slightly; eyes down.

"I thought you two could use a break from the paperwork." His words are quiet, but they manage to extract smiles from the whole team, including Wiley.

Perhaps James is just the addition we need to make things work again.

"Thankyou." Lisbon replies, even softer than James.

She and James lay the pizzas across Cho's cleared desk, and everyone takes a piece; delighting in its warmth and deliciousness. We remain in comfortable silence for a long time, until finally Cho lifts his paper cup to make a toast.

"To James' first closed case."

"To James" comes the chorused reply.

It's still too early to go home, so we draw up chairs around the pizza.

Wiley and James get into a heated discussion about video game politics, leaving the rest of us to sigh in fake exasperation. Cho and Lisbon talk quietly between themselves; arranging a catch up with VanPelt and Rigsby from the CBI. For just a moment I see a shadow of grief stretch across Lisbon's eyes, as her mind wanders to the missing member of their old team.

I blink and it's gone, a small smile in its place. Perhaps I'd imagined it.

Wiley begins making faces at James, and we all laugh. Things feel right again.


One year since the funeral, and the ghosts of Vega and Jane rarely show their faces anymore. Cho is readying himself to take over the unit; stoic face fixed, and reverted back to his put-together self. Wiley is cheerful most days, but no longer with the same childish innocence. He walks taller now, towering over both Lisbon and Cho. Since her death they treat him differently too; less like a younger sibling, and more like a dependable friend and co-worker. James doesn't know the whole story of what happened to our unit, but he quickly found a place in the team that suits us all. He's a good kid, and will learn a whole lot about teamwork from being here. Lisbon is doing better I think. Her eyes have regained a spark that was previously lost, and her bones don't stand out as much as they once did. Cho still keeps a very close eye on her eating habits though, ensuring that his partner is staying strong enough to work. She's moving on, even accepting a date from an agent in narcotics who's been chatting to her for weeks. I watch as she emerges into the bullpen, wearing a simple but elegant black dress with her hair tied up. Wiley grins and gives her two thumbs up as she walks by, understanding that this is probably her first date since Jane. She chats quietly with Cho for a few minutes, then grabs her coat, and heads for the elevator. Lisbon gives me a small wave as she steps into the lift, silently questioning herself if she's ready for this.

For her sake, I sure hope so.


A year and a half since the funeral, and I am finally leaving to work in DC with Lena. It's been hard living in a long distance marriage, but she understands why I couldn't leave so soon after my team fell apart. I hug Wiley first, knowing that his cheerful and innovative conversations are ones that I'll miss. Cho comes second. He deserves to have a leadership role at last, and despite everything he's gone through over the last year I know he will do a fantastic job. I clasp his hand firmly in my own; literally handing over the team to him. Along with the added paperwork, I think to myself with a chuckle.

James reaches out to shake my hand, and I grasp it with a smile. We may not have known each other for long, but I've come to realize how important he has been to the team's overall dynamic and recovery.

Last but not least, I reach over and give Lisbon a quick but meaningful hug. She reciprocates it, and whispers a quiet thankyou into my ear as we pull away. Almost three years ago, Lisbon and Cho were sitting arrested and handcuffed in the back of my SUV. To think that now they're among my most trusted friends.

I give them all a final smile and head to the elevator, about to press the button when it dings open by itself. There, staggering awkwardly from the lift is an unmistakeable face framed in dirty blonde curls. His suit falls in tatters, and appears to be stained with a mixture of both fresh and dried blood. I glance over at Lisbon, who is eyeing off the man with a cocktail of shock and anger and guilt.

Nobody thought he would come back.

He finds her glassy eyes immediately, as if drawn back along a tethered connection. She shivers slightly.

The world slows down before me, as we wait for her reaction towards the man who caused her so much grief. Cho stands a little taller; bracing himself to tackle Jane if he tries to get near her.

Perhaps in hindsight, he should have been watching out for her move instead.

Suddenly it's like the tension has moved from slow motion, to fast forward.

Her glock is carefully aimed at his head within milliseconds; her actions so fast and unexpected that no one could stop them.

She takes two deep breaths in, just like he taught her, and gently squeezes the trigger.

Bang