This was inspired by a certain picture in Red Badge. I noticed how we don't really know that much about Lisbon's family, so this is my take. Enjoy!

--

Theresa Lisbon looked around the office nervously as she rifled through her messenger bag. There was mostly paperwork in it, seemingly endless reports she had to complete that she decided she could do at home and not have to be chained to her desk. She reached the end of the papers and groaned quietly, starting over at the beginning to search for her lost item.

This item was no mere piece of paper. It was a picture, a very important picture, to her. She cursed herself for bringing it to work in the first place. If Jane had taken it…

Ah, there it was, in the inside pocket. She sighed, both tired and relieved. Taking it out, she examined it to make sure hadn't been damaged by being in the bag. She looked around again quickly, no one was there except her. Hopefully, her team was still at the bar they frequented, laughing and enjoying themselves after a job well done. Jane had even come with them; he usually stayed with on his couch, sleeping or pretending to sleep but really thinking. She had felt his eyes on her back as she left early, giving the excuse that she was tired and wanted to go home. Then she came back here, to finish what work she could and take the rest with her.

But she still scanned the doorway every few minutes because Patrick Jane had the habit of turning up at the worst times.

Like now, for instance.

"I knew you didn't go home," he said by way of greeting, waltzing through the door to her office.

"No," she replied after hiding the tiny jump she gave when he entered the room by reaching for another file and stuffing it into her bag, "but I am now."

"Are you okay, Lisbon?" he asked suddenly, coming up to her. "You seemed… distracted today."

"Fine," she replied, wondering how long he was going to continue talking to her. She really just wanted to go home.

"Anything to do with that?" he continued, gesturing to her hand.

She looked down and realized she was still holding the picture. She muttered a stream of curses in her head; now she was going to have to explain.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, "I broke the frame on accident this morning. I was going to buy a new one, but I didn't have time."

He nodded calmly, "I see… May I?"

She took a few seconds to think and passed him the photo, but he didn't take it, only looked at it in the dim light of her desk lamp. She could've sworn she saw his expression soften, but it might have been the lighting.

"You don't talk about them very often," he commented.

Lisbon recognized this innocent comment as a lead in to a conversation that she definitely did not want to get into.

"I really don't need this right now, Jane—"

"Tell me about them, Lisbon."

She didn't know if it was the gentleness in his voice or the simple fact that she was too tired to get into a full blown argument with him, probably a combination of both, but she complied, looking down at the picture in her hand.

The unsmiling faces were those of her brothers. She sighed.

"That's John," she said, pointing to the boy in the middle, "and Michael," the one on the left, "Twins. Fraternal, but you'd never know it; they look so alike. Their full names are John Michael Lisbon and Michael John Lisbon; reversible. I still have no idea why my mom did that. They used to torture me with it, saying that one was the other. They fooled me for whole days sometimes." She shook her head, smiling a little. "Never outgrew that inner child."

"What do they do now?" Jane asked.

"John's an architect, builds houses. He's married and has a two year old, Sophia, who, fortunately, has not yet inherited her dad's weirdness, but I'm sure it will come," she noticed she had Jane smiling now, "Michael is a firefighter, much to my dismay. But of course, his argument is that he can put out fires if I can shoot bad guys, and I haven't yet found a way to oppose that. He's engaged, finally. He could pull people out of burning buildings but couldn't figure out a way to ask his girlfriend of however many years to marry him. John and I eventually talked him into it; his face was priceless when he told me about it."

"And the youngest?"

She grinned, "Nathan. The baby. Nine years younger than me, and way smarter. He's in medical school, to be a doctor." Jane smiled at the note of pride she couldn't keep out of her voice. "My kid brother was in pre-calculus and advanced chemistry when he was a freshman in high school. He helped me with my homework. It's supposed to be the other way around. It was kind of nice though," she chuckled, "John or Michael would walk passed his room, stick their head in the doorway and spout some ridiculous math problem, and he would think for a minute, and then give the answer. And he was usually right."

Jane couldn't believe what he was hearing. Well, he could believe what he was hearing, what he couldn't believe was that she was telling him any of it. Granted, she had put up somewhat of a fight when he first prodded her, but not as big a one as he expected before she digressed. He had noticed a distinct change in her today. The way she talked, the way she moved, everything was off somehow.

"Do you talk to them often?"

She nodded, "I call them every once and a while. Being the responsible adult in the family isn't something you easily shake off."

There was a brief second of uncomfortable silence, and then Jane commented, "It's really amazing."

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, "What's amazing?"

He shrugged, "Well, they all could have turned out so differently. These boys went through the hardest time of their lives, their mother passed away, their father was depressed, with no one," he paused and looked at her pointedly, "Except you. Their big sister. By all rights, they should be far more messed up. But instead," he pointed to the boys in turn, "They help people. A firefighter, an architect, and a doctor. Because you were there for them; you took care of them, you wouldn't let them go down the wrong path," he shrugged, "It's pretty amazing."

She didn't say anything; the power of speech was taken away from her. She didn't think she had ever received a bigger compliment. On today of all days. On this day, she always couldn't help but think, could I have done better? Should I have done things differently? It was her nature, and when it came to her brothers, she had to wonder. Would her mother have told them the same things she did?

"It's my mom's birthday," she confessed.

He nodded sagely, his answer revealed, and turned to the door, opening it for her. She threw the paperwork-laden bag over her shoulder and walked out into the harsh light of the hallway. He headed for the couch, and she watched him flop down on it.

"Amazing, huh?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Amazing," he repeated, his eyes already shut.

She gave a small nod, "Night, Jane."

"Night, Lisbon," he replied.

She missed the small smile on his face as she left.

--

She walked into her apartment and shut the door behind her, immediately setting the bag down by the couch. She searched the fridge for a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass, returning to the sofa. She sat down in a very-unlike-Jane fashion, pulling her legs underneath her, and contemplated turning on the television.

She thought for a moment, took a sip of wine, and reached in her pocket for her phone, instead.

She dialed the number she knew by heart; he answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Nate," she replied.

"Hey, sis. I was just studying; I'm scrubbing in on this awesome surgery tomorrow. What's up?"

He was studying. For a surgery. Not out on the streets, not sick, not jobless, not messed up in any way shape or form. Normal. Above normal. You wouldn't let them go down the wrong path, he said. Damn right, she wouldn't. She didn't. She didn't let any of them down, leave any of them behind.

Amazing.

"You still there? Something wrong?"

"No," she snapped out of her thoughts, "Everything's fine. Just wanted to hear your voice."

--

Good? Bad? What did you think?