A/N: This takes place waaaay out in the future. Post RJ? - actually not sure if he's still lurking around somewhere.

Spoilers: A little bit for 4x24 The Crimson Hat

Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did it would be so different no one would like it anyway, so be glad I don't.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, the face staring back at him was that of a tired, old man. The sun blonde waves in his hair having long since yielded to a mat greyish color, and his blue-green eyes had lost their youthful sparkle. When had this happened? He wondered then turned away from the image and walked back into the living room of his small apartment. He looked around suddenly feeling as empty as the flat he was in. It being furnished with only a little round and brownish dining table and a single chair of matching color in one corner and a soft plush armchair sat in front of a small TV in the other. There were no photos on the walls, no memorabilia, nothing at all that indicated this was somebodies home and not a simple motel room somewhere in the boondocks.

For the first time in years he felt lonely, lonely and ashamed. Ashamed of having wasted his life. He had spent years, decades even, hunting a monster that had a way of evading capture. It was all such a long time ago now, which made it seem so unimportant. A time of legends. It had become a myth, a tale, something you told your children to scare them, but wasn't really afraid of yourself… Well maybe they should be. He had been. For years he had been trembling in his pants by the mere mention of the monsters name. However everything he'd done had all been for naught, nothing he had done had changed anything and in the end he'd moved far away and left everyone behind. He had given up, and eventually so had the monster, or maybe it too had just moved on to greener pastures, he didn't know and he didn't care…, not anymore. His hunt had cost him everything, the only thing he had left was himself.

He had seen her once or twice in the news over the years. He had seen her and he'd wondered about how she was doing, but he'd pushed her right out of his mind again because he really had no right anymore. He was the one that had walked out, that had left them, and never looked back.

xXx

One week ago he'd done something he thought he'd never do, he'd gone back to the city. Not really knowing why or what to expect, he'd driven his car down familiar roads and neighborhoods, and it had made him feel like he'd never left. He had even spent an hour in front of her old apartment – just staring at the bricks as if he was hoping they'd tell him something – they didn't though and besides someone else was living there now. He'd also driven past the CBI building, not stopping as he saw no need to go in, figuring everyone he'd known back then would have either retired or gone somewhere else by now.

However if he wasn't going to look anyone up while he was here, then why had he come back? Sentimental longings of an old fool perhaps? It was too late to right his wrongs, 32 years too late. He remembered how sad, frustrated and angry she'd been when he'd been gone for six months, he couldn't put her through something like that again, though the situation had been a lot different it was still a betrayal he knew she'd never forgive.

He drove out of the city again, too many memories flocked his old brain, he needed space and so he spent the rest of the day at the beach. Watching the waves crashing violently against the shore and the people walking by hand in hand, smiling at each other and not giving an old man on a sun-bleached bench the time of day. He bought himself a cone of vanilla flavored ice cream and ate it while watching the sunset color the sky purple and making the water sparkle like a sea of diamonds. It gave him plenty of time to scrutinize his life choices as he'd already done a million times that day. When the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon the wind carried with it a chill that was too cold for an old man like him, so he decided it was time to hit the road and head on home. And even though he knew it was a detour he drove all the way back into the city, arguably for one final goodbye.

In need of gas, for the rest of the journey back home to his modest flat, he stopped at the first gas station he saw, got out, fumbled around with his keys a bit then opened the gas cap and started fueling up the thirsty car. Meanwhile another car pulled up to the stand next to his and a man in his mid to late 30s got out. In lack of better things to do while the pump bellowed loudly, Jane studied the man. He was tall and handsome with a nice complexion and dark wavy hair. He radiated happiness, with a smile on his lips and happy words spilling out of his mouth as he got out of the driver's seat. But as Jane got a better look at him he saw that his eyes boar traces of a seriousness that could only be founded in a profound kind of sadness, in fact he'd only ever seen that kind of depth in a person's eyes once before…

"Lisbon." He gasped. The word only a low murmur on his lips still left a faint tingling trace in its wake. And for a moment it made him forget how to breathe. He gasped again, this time for air, bending down holding onto his knees for support, the hose and pump momentarily forgotten, he just couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.

"Hey are you okay?" The young man came over and bended down as well to have a look at him.

"Fine... I'm fine." Jane stammered between gulps of air. "Old age... not something you should look forward too." He smiled up at the young man as he got his breathing under control once again.

The man smiled back, and it was all Jane could do not to cry. "Are you sure I don't need to call someone to come pick you up?" He asked.

"I'm sure, thank you."Jane said as the man reluctantly returned to his car.

Well he'd been raised well, Jane thought, not really surprised. Caring and worrying even for a total stranger. It was true what people said: the apple does not fall far from the tree.

As the initial shock of realization slowly wore off Jane looked in the young man's direction, and saw that a woman with a baby had gotten out of the passenger seat, most likely to see if what was going on, she looked like a nice enough girl, she had shoulder length blonde hair and kind eyes. She rocked the baby gently in her arms as she smiled at Jane and of course he returned the favor, giving her one of his best I'm-fine-smiles. Then she turned and said something to the man before getting into the car again. Jane studied the car for a second, it was a light blue Citroën Berlingo, nice car he mused, the similarity an unconscious choice no doubt, at least this Citroën was family friendly, unlike his old car that he unfortunately had to trade in years ago, one of the last things he'd held onto from his old life.

Behind in the passenger seat window he could see a little girl, no older than 3, peaking out, curious to see what her father was doing. She had dark curly hair like her father - and grandmother, he added as an afterthought. She was only 3 but she was already beautiful. Jane had to tear his eyes away to stop himself from staring, he wouldn't want them to think he was some kind of creep. He just couldn't help himself, he had grandchildren, two of them, and they were gorgeous. He was somebodies grandfather. He wouldn't have imaged that, but he should have expected it. He had left a little boy and found a grown man in his stead. His thoughts drifted towards Lisbon, she had finally gotten the family she deserved, well almost, minus/not including him, he kept telling himself they had been better off without him, but something in the man's eyes told him differently.

None of them would ever know who he was however and he didn't want them too either. Wasn't going to reveal himself to them. His mask of anonymity would remain on. All he brought people were heartache and pain, and these people - practically strangers - were happy, he couldn't, and he wouldn't ruin that.

He couldn't help but wonder though. Which deity had been kind enough to grant him this chance meeting? Because that's what it was, a kindness for sure, more than he felt he deserved. He had left them to fend for themselves, pretending not to care, but the truth was that he did care, too much maybe. He'd been scared, been selfish. Not wanting to feel anything ever again. He had told himself moving on had been a mistake so he had run, and spend the last 3 decades in denial, feeling more numbed by each passing day. What had he missed out on? Birthdays, parties, ups and downs, good days and bad ones. All the feelings he didn't want to have or to feel… or thought he didn't want.

He was still fumbling with the hose when the little family left, and as they pulled out Jane's eyes met the young man's, but only for a brief moment. It was a contact that lasted merely seconds yet the intensity of that gaze made something stir inside of him, something dormant, hidden, forgotten. A yearning.

He contemplated following them, maybe they'd lead him back to Teresa. But he thought better of it. Would rather spare her the heartache than quell his own fears - that he'd left and the monster had gotten to her, or that life had, they weren't exactly spring chickens anymore.

So he watched them leave, disappearing out of his life as swiftly as they'd entered. The red taillight winking at him as the car disappeared behind the horizon.

He had gone home then. A day or two passed but now the before so nicely quiet apartment felt empty, devoid of any sounds, child's laughter or adult conversation. Even turning on the TV didn't help fill the hole he suddenly had inside. Seeing that man, a man he was almost certain was his son, seeing him with a family of his own changed everything. His whole line of thinking for the past 30 years. Right now what he wanted most in this world was to make contact, a connection, a family. He didn't want to be lonely anymore, he didn't want to die as he had lived… Alone.

xXx

He had made a decision, so he got dressed, found his car keys and... He stopped in front of the door, looking at the doorknob as if it was a tiger and he was its prey. Almost 33 years ago he'd made a choice, he had chosen to abandon what he loved the most, his wife and young son. It had been hard but he'd done it to protect them, to give them a fighting chance. Or so he told himself. He was better of alone and so were they, though he knew Teresa would have argued that fact if he'd let her. What had changed now? A chance meeting of two strangers. For all he knew they weren't even related at all, a lot of people looked alike, it was bound to happen that he saw himself in others, he'd done it before. The first few years he'd seen his family everywhere. At the grocery shops, on the street, in cars, on the bus, etc. you name it. But it was never them. Now... he couldn't do this to them, not again. He'd made a choice once and he should stick with it, and damn the consequences. And so he walked back to his green armchair, plumped down into it, turned on the TV, and changed the channel a few times until he found a program he liked, some kind of nature show about elephants, lions and giraffes.

Why did he have to be such a stubborn old goat?

Coward.

xXx

A few days later, after countless noise and smell complaints from the neighbors, the landlord opened the door to apartment number 278 to find his tenet, Patrick Jane, sitting in his armchair in front of a turned on TV, dead. He had never seen the man had had any visitors, and doubted there was any family either, no one to notify, clean up, or claim rights to his stuff, not that he had a lot, he'd not been a hoarder that's for sure, and that just made his job a lot easier. He turned off the TV to make the crackling white noise disappear and covered up the old man with a blanket, then he walked out. "I'd better go call the authorities." He said as he closed the door to the nosy neighbors that had assembled outside in the hall.

'How sad. Another old and lonely soul kicks the bucket.' He thought to himself while hurrying back to his own apartment where his wife was waiting with lunch ready and his little daughter was playing with her toys on the floor.

A/N: So yeah a sad turn of events, and we didn't even get to see Lisbon in here, not really. Well we all die at some point, and old age is better than murder right.

Sidenote: I have no idea how cars will be fueled 30 years from now, (not that it's that far into the future but still) maybe they don't even need fuel, they'll run on sun power or something equally magical or maybe there aren't any cars at all, we'll all have small hovering space crafts. Now wouldn't that be fun.

Another disclaimer: I'm not getting paid by Citroën either.