The first time he abandoned the CBI and the case, it had all been a ruse to get to Red John. And it had worked, even if backfiring, the killer demanding Lisbon's head, Luther dying, and everything going to hell. The second time he did, it was for real. His idea was getting out of the case and then work on it, only, just on his own.

He and Lisbon had gotten too close, consuming their love without actually saying the words, and the madman had sent him a message, in the shape of the butchered bodies of two lovers and pictures of them, to show that he wasn't pleased and that he knew everything. He thought that, given the chance, Red John would have chosen him, followed him to the end of the Earth and back, but sooner rather than later, Jane discovered that he had been wrong, for the killer decided to go after Lisbon instead.

He heard about the operation on TV, while he was in a small town in North California. When the anchorman said that the infamous serial killer had been killed in action by CBI Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon he remained speechless. He felt void, he didn't know what to feel. If he was feeling at all. He guessed he was mad, but he didn't know if it was with Red John, for he had chosen Lisbon, Teresa, who had taken away revenge from him, of himself, for having left her lone to deal with a crazy killer.

He didn't return, but traveled from town to town, playing the role of the magician for the kids, like when he had been one himself and he had traveled with the carnie. He guessed he needed time to heal, to properly mourn his beloved and his revenge. He wanted to come back to her, only, he didn't know when, or how. Did he really still have something to offer? Then, fate took the decision for him, when in a dark bar, in the middle of the night, while he was drinking a cup of tea long gone cold, when he heard about an operation going havoc, and caught a glimpse of red hair on a national channel. He didn't hear what had happened, but he felt that something was wrong.

He was scared, like just few times before in his life, and his mind kept bombing him with images he had never gotten rid of-a closed door with a note on it, Lisbon in a secluded place with a killer, a bomb in a room, another one on her body, bullets fired in her direction, and Lisbon telling him she was hurt, shooting at her after a killer demanded her head…

Before he knew it, he had already made up his mind and he was running through red lights with his Citroen.

He arrived at Sacramento General Hospital 17 hours later or so, and he immediately started wondering around. Helpless and lost, he found himself unable to use his charm or his abilities, and nobody would tell him what was wrong or where she could be. He looked in the ER, he went in surgery, everywhere he could think of, and still nothing. There was no trace of Lisbon. Or maybe, she had asked to leave him outside, had he came looking for her.

And then, he saw Wayne. Outside a room, crossed arms, clearly waiting to go back inside, alone. The young agent's general behavior told him Rigsby wasn't there for Lisbon-as much as he cared for her and he considered his boss family, Teresa wasn't the one he wanted to rise his children with. Jane smiled, somehow relieved, and went to Rigsby, ready to slap him on the back like he used to, but he didn't see that coming, as much as he should have. He hadn't learnt a lot from the Vegas accident, apparently.

And when the fist collided with his face, everything went black.

He woke up… later. How much, he didn't know. All he knew was that the hospital had good stuff. Heavy stuff. He finally understood why people kept talking about white lights and weird noises. It had to be the stuff the good doctors pumped in their blood.

And… it surely was a dream. For Lisbon was there, posing just like she used to when he kept fake-sleeping on his couch in the bullpen, or he had done something she didn't approve of without asking first, despite knowing it was a bad idea.

Only thing… she was kind of….

"Someone took a bit of weight in my absence, eh?" he tried to say, slurring the words a bit, like he was drunk or high. A part of his mind tried to tell his mouth to shout up for it wasn't the right thing to say, but his appendage didn't get the message, for her kept talking and saying inappropriate things. Things a man wasn't supposed to tell a woman, especially if he was in love with her and was trying to get back in her life.

He definitely saw her fist on his nose coming, despite having hoped she would pity him, as he was high on medical drugs. But she didn't. He didn't lose his senses this time, but it still hurt like hell, and he was pretty sure that she knew it and she was quite happy- damn woman.

And then… he catch up with reality. She hadn't taken weight in his absence. Nope. Lisbon was heavily pregnant. Like, eight months pregnant. Eight months. Like how long it had been since they had been together the last time.

God blessed Rigsby. He had been right in hitting him.

"You are an idiot" she told him, crying. Hormones probably, but he didn't care. Like he didn't care about the insults, either. She was safe, and she was adorable, like always. It was all that mattered.

He saw small injuries all over her body, scars that marred her white skin, and by reflex he knew what they were. Those were marks left by a blade, by a knife. The pain was gone, the injures had healed, but the signs were going to stay, remembering them all what could have been, and how close they had been to lose her.

He finally understood why Red John had decided to go after her instead of following Jane, like he knew why she was still alive. She was Lisbon, and she defended her family with all her strength. But a mother? Nobody tries to get between a lioness and her cub.

He took her hand in his own, and he knew that one day, they would be eventually all right. They weren't going to forget, but they were going to forgive themselves, and each other, getting stronger and stronger. Together.