A/N: Notice how the story is categorized as Angst? Well, I cried writing this. You've been warned.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Kimball's POV
I have been told before that I am a good cop, though I am not entirely convinced. I do like to think so. I like to think that I'm a good cop because I know that I'm not good at anything else. I like to think that I don't take any shit from anyone. However, I know that I'm lying to myself, because I was not immune to Patrick Jane. Nobody was.
Even though I sat back and watched Jane bend the rules to get the job done, it did just that; it got the job done, and I was okay with that. I didn't always like Jane's methods. Quite frankly some of his operations made me extremely uncomfortable but with our team's closing rates, it was worth it. I knew that. Rigsby and Van Pelt and even the boss knew that. I began to suspect that even Wainwright understood that. Occasionally he would raise a skeptical eyebrow but I think Jane amused him. Jane amused everyone. Even me. I tried not to let it show. I tried to keep a straight face at all times but occasionally Jane would say something that would cause my mouth to twitch.
I let Patrick Jane mold me into the cop I am today, but I still like to think that I am a good cop.
That's why when Bertram asked me where Lisbon was, I answered him without hesitation, because that is what good cops do.
"I don't know." It wasn't a lie. I truly was not sure where the boss was.
Bertram glared at me for a few moments longer before turning to glower at the other two agents on the team, particularly Van Pelt. As soon as Bertram zeroed in on her, Rigsby stiffened in that defensive way he does. I, too, felt myself tense up as I noticed that she was beginning to feel uneasy. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. "Where is she, Van Pelt?" Bertram demanded.
I didn't like the way he talked to her.
"I- I don't know," she stammered.
"You're a cop, Van Pelt," Bertram droned in his snake-like way. "You know as well as I do that obstruction of justice is a felony. Agent Lisbon is the prime suspect in a murder investigation."
"But I don't know where she is!" she defended.
Rigsby was by her side in a second. "If she says she doesn't know where Lisbon is, she doesn't know."
"I wasn't talking to you, Agent Rigsby," Bertram snapped. "But now I am. Where is she?"
"Hey, leave them alone, Bertram," I barked, earning an incredulous scowl from the man in question and shocked faces from my teammates. "We don't know where she went. She didn't tell us."
Bertram took a step closer to my desk and smiled darkly. "Fine," he said. "I get it." He set his hands on my desktop and narrowed his eyes at me. "If you could guess."
I glared at him in disgust. "You don't like guesswork. You made that pretty clear when Jane was around."
"Answer me, Agent Cho."
"If I could guess…" I paused, and glanced around him at Rigsby and Van Pelt. Rigsby seemed unsure of what to say, what to think, but Van Pelt sighed and nodded, a way of saying It has to happen.
"I'd guess," I began, growling through my teeth, "that she is with Jane."
X
Wayne's POV
He had no choice. I knew that. Grace knew that.
Cho isn't one for expressing emotion of any kind. Everybody knew that. But right now, as I watched him participate in a brutal staring contest with Bertram, I could see that he was completely torn. He was torn between his loyalty and respect for Lisbon and his career that he was so good at. It went without saying that what Bertram was offering was an ultimatum. Cho could either hand Lisbon over, or give up everything he'd worked so hard for. I know that I wouldn't have been able to make a decision like that. I'm not strong like Cho.
But I can see that it killed him. I caught a hint of remorse in his eyes. It was the most emotion I have ever seen him express. He didn't say anything as Director Bertram, the king of all assholes, stalked out of the bullpen. Cho watched him go, and I could have sworn that his hand twitched for his gun.
If he had shot Bertram, I would have looked the other way. Hell, I probably would have helped him hide the body, and Grace would have stood guard.
"She'll understand," Grace said softly.
Cho shook his head. "No, she won't," he retorted, voice filled with remorse. He didn't look at her. "I wouldn't. I just betrayed her. She would never do that to me, or to any of us."
"You had no choice, Cho," I reasoned. Not that it would make a difference. Not that he would listen to me. "Everyone here knows that you wouldn't have a job right now if you hadn't said anything."
"Yeah, and they would have found her eventually, even if you hadn't said anything. You did the right thing," Grace told him in her sweet tone.
He shot up from his desk and walked toward the window with his hands on his hips. His back was to us, but we could clearly hear him say, "That doesn't matter." He spun around to face us again. "It doesn't matter if Bertram had fired me. I could have found work somewhere but Lisbon is screwed."
"Maybe she didn't do it," Grace offered calmly.
"She did it, Van Pelt," Cho snapped. "And everybody knows it."
I lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. His face was bright red. He was losing it. I had to calm him down. "Cho, listen to me," I ordered. I'd never been so straightforward and demanding with him. It was usually the other way around. "She can fight in court. You know her, she's a fighter." He tried to move past me but I stepped in front of him again. "She killed a monster."
"The law's the law, Rigsby. She committed murder. She's going to prison."
"Jane got away with it. Maybe she can, too."
My words silenced whatever he was about to say, and I could feel the tension weighing down on everybody in the room. I turned to look at Grace, who was staring down at the floor. It appeared as though she was trying not to cry. I glanced at Cho again. His hands were balled into fists and his jaw was clenched.
"We're going to get through this," I assured both of them.
If only I could assure myself.
X
Grace's POV
As soon as Cho said it, there was no question in my mind that he was right.
"I'd guess that she is with Jane."
Of course she was with Jane. I hadn't seen it at first, when I was first assigned to Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon's team at the CBI. I was just a rookie, and I had plenty of other things to think about. But later on, as I began to get to know my teammates, I watched them more closely, and I could see that our boss was falling in love with our consultant.
I never called her on it, of course. I knew that I would probably end up fired or beaten to death. But I could see it. I knew that Cho could see it. When I asked Wayne about it, he confessed that he could even see it.
Patrick Jane was cunning, manipulative, and he could even be a bit of an ass sometimes. But I knew what she saw in him. He could also be charming, thoughtful, and ridiculously sweet at times, especially when it came to her. For the longest time, I couldn't decide whether he felt the same way about her. I could see it in his eyes that he cared about her but I had no way of knowing whether or not he had fallen for her. I thought about asking him, but I knew what his answer would be, whether he loved her or not. He would scoff, deny it and then tease me for even looking into the possibility. He might even tell Lisbon, and I most definitely did not want that.
But as I got to know him, I began to recognize that he was different with her than with everyone else. I knew that he trusted Rigsby and Cho and I but he looked at Lisbon differently. He was more… protective of her, whether she liked it or not. Turns out he had the right to be, considering Red John has targeted her a few times. First he had somebody strap a bomb to her and then he demanded her head. I've thought through it several times, and I realized that Red John targeted her because she meant so much to Jane.
Two days ago, Teresa Lisbon shot and killed a man named Peter Manson, also known as the wanted serial killer Red John. Some may argue that she had the right to do so. She's a cop, right? She needs to do her job, and if that means taking down a bad guy by shooting him because there was no other way, then so be it. The catch is, she didn't have her badge, nor did she have her on-duty firearm. Her badge and gun were taken from her after she had a breakdown in the office. She threw a chair through her office window (again) and she punched several holes in the break room wall. She killed Peter Manson with her off-duty weapon, not as a cop, but as a citizen.
Cho beat himself up but I don't blame him. I really don't. I know that he would take a bullet for any of us, like Lisbon would, and Wayne, and like I would. Lisbon knew what she was getting herself into when she tracked Peter Manson down. She had to know that either she would end up dead, or she would end up in jail.
Just like Jane.
X
Lisbon's POV
By now they've figured out that I'm missing, I'm sure.
And by now, surely they've put two and two together and figured out where I've gone.
But I had to tell him what I've done, who I killed. I'm sure he already knows, but I wanted to tell him my side of the story. He deserved that.
As soon as I reached his new home, I put my car in park and plucked the key out of the ignition. My eyes were already stinging with hot tears and I hadn't even gotten out of the car yet. I dabbed my eyes and huffed in frustration. Pull yourself together, Teresa, I thought to myself as I opened the car door.
It didn't take me long to find his grave. Even though I hadn't been here since the funeral, it was pretty clear in my memory where I needed to go.
I stopped in front of his grave and swallowed hard. Patrick Charles Jane.
"Hey, Jane," I whispered, reaching for my crucifix. I glanced around nervously and listened, half-expecting to hear sirens blaring in the distance but I heard nothing. "I'm sorry I haven't been here lately. I've been… busy."
Tears were now streaming freely down my face. Busy was an understatement. The last time I had a peaceful, restful sleep, Jane was alive.
After Red John killed him, I had never worked harder to find a murderer in my entire life. I stayed awake for days straight, doing research and sometimes just crying nonstop. I'm not proud of my weakness but I decided to cut myself some slack. The most important person had just been taken away from me. I decided that I had the right to cry.
I managed to find Jane's stash of files and notes on Red John. I studied each and every scrap of information dozens of times, and I finally figured out how Jane found him.
Every single cop method was soon thrown out the window. When Jane was here, I had been determined to keep him from killing Red John if he ever got his hands on him. I had been determined to arrest the serial killer, like a good cop would. But after I found Jane's lifeless body in his motel room with the bright red smile on the wall behind him, I knew that as soon as I found that heartless bastard he was dead.
"I understand now, Jane," I whimpered through the lump in my throat. "I understand how it feels to want revenge so badly that it physically aches inside. I killed him, Jane. I killed him for you." I wiped at my eyes. "I guess I killed him for me, too."
He's been gone for almost six months now, but it feels like just yesterday I was clutching his broken, bloodied body, sobbing hysterically and screaming at the top of my lungs. When Cho and the team finally found us, I didn't know how much time had passed. I wasn't aware that Grace was now sobbing as well, or that Rigsby had to leave the room so he could let a few tears loose in private, or that Cho was whiter than a phantom. All I knew that my best friend, and the man that I had probably fallen madly in love with, was dead. Murdered by the man who murdered his wife and child. I held onto him for the better part of three hours. I would have held him all day, all week if I could have. But Cho eventually pried us apart. "Boss," he'd said. "They've got to take him now." I remember screaming at him, screaming at the forensics and the coroners. Everyone.
"I'm still mad at you," I told Jane. "If you had just told me where you were going, if you had just let me come with you, you would probably still be here." Another sob escaped. "But I know that you're with your family now. I know that you are where you've always wanted to be. And I'm so glad that you can finally be happy again."
Suddenly, sirens in the distance filled my ears, and my heart started to pound.
This is it.
I'm done.
"I miss you so much, Jane."
"Teresa Lisbon," came a deep, booming voice on the intercom of one of the cars. "You're under arrest. Put your hands up."
"Good luck, Patrick," I whispered softly. "Love you."
I turned around to face the cars. There were three of them, and there were six or seven agents, all pointing their guns at me. I sighed and lifted my hands.
I was cuffed and arrested by Agent Kate Bailey, a new agent that had just transferred from the NYPD. She was a tough cop, from what I'd heard, and as she barked the Miranda Rights in my ear, I knew that the rumors had been true.
I was escorted away from Jane's grave, shoved into the back of a car, and taken to face my fate.
A/N: Yes, I know. It's awful. Please don't hate me. Well, I guess you could. I kind of hate myself. It was categorized as angst for a reason. I also know that there are several unanswered questions. Like, how did Jane and Lisbon find Red John? Or... did Lisbon end up in prison. Well, use your imagination. Review? Please?