I don't own The Mentalist, but I do love writing Jisbon!

Lisbon laid on her bed, the salty tears running down her face and soaking her pillow. Laying there in the dark she knew rationally that she needed to get some rest, in the morning she would start her new job as a sheriff. It had been months since Jane had vanished from her life, just as quickly as he had swept into her life. Her chest felt like it was going to crack and explode outward. Red John was dead, she should be happy. The notorious serial killer was no longer tormenting the lives of her team. Her team. Something that no longer existed either, her family. Though she saw Rigsby and Van Pelt from time to time they were so wrapped up in their lives, Grace had just found out she was pregnant a few weeks ago. Lisbon was secretly jealous. Married and Pregnant, its not something she had planned for herself. But seeing her once junior agent glowing with life and love, well it definitely left a mark on Lisbon's heart. She was nearing forty and knew the door was quickly closing on that option in her life, if it hadn't already closed. But truth be told she would not, could not make a family with anyone other than Jane. It was her darkest secret. She couldn't even tell anyone of the burning hell she was in emotionally.

That was when the letters started coming, he had remembered her. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when none other than Danny showed up on her front porch with the letter. How he had found her she would never know, but the knowledge that Jane had gone to such great risk to communicate with her meant more than she would ever admit to if ever questioned.

As she laid there all these thoughts and more ran through her mind, Jane had remembered her. She sobbed, feeling weak and foolish. Why should she cry over someone who had left her without even a proper goodbye. Though she knew it would of never worked out, still she hoped to see his face at least one last time.

The voice mail he had left her on her phone was still saved for her in the box, she couldn't bare to erase it. His voice, telling her that he was fine. God. She knew he was not fine, but did he? Was he living his life in denial? For the first few months she lived in fear that he had gone off somewhere to kill himself, without a second thought about her. But she knew he wasn't that selfish, or cruel. So when the letter arrived telling her about his escape she swallowed her fears and hung on to the paper as if it were a lifeline. There was nothing worse than not knowing, an at least now she knew he was still alive.

The words on paper almost as good as having him there, filling the numb cold void in her heart where she had pushed aside her hopes of their future together after Red John. When she had made these plans she couldn't say, but over the past eleven years together she had. By god, she had. Somehow she felt there would at least be a declaration of love or a new beginning for the two of them once the hated killer was out of their lives.

She let out a breath trying to still her tears, nearly annoyed with the fact that her pillow was now soaked with tears and snot, evidence of her weakness. But was it really a weakness? She questioned herself, slowly admitting to herself that no it wasn't. It was just her mind admitting that her drug was now gone, that she had to kick the dependence she had developed over the years of having Jane by her side. But she couldn't quit, there was no way out of this for her. She was a lifer. After ten years they say you are practically dependant on whatever habit you have developed and that it would take twice as long to kick the habit than it ran her life.

She knew that she should of probably been mad at Jane like Cho was, but Cho didn't have the letters and he couldn't know about them so she had to leave the poor mad angry and feeling betrayed by Jane. It was almost as if Cho felt Jane had abandoned their little CBI family like a Father abandoning his children and wife, much like what had really happened in Cho's biological family. She hadn't heard from the former CBI agent in the past few months, he was currently at the farm for the FBI. She was proud of him, as much as a real mother would be over her own child. In fact she was proud of Grace and Wayne too, settling into their life successfully together. And it touched her heart that they all still tried to keep in touch with her and a part of their life.

Looking to the letter that lay next to her on the pillow beside her head she tried to pretend it was really Jane, that his blond curls were there for her to run her fingers through. And if she was perfectly honest she had thought she had smelled a hint of his scent off of the paper as she had read the letter for the third time that night. Perhaps his scent would transfer from the paper on to the pillow and she could then sleep next to it, perhaps she would then sleep peacefully.

Her heart ached for Jane, he wasn't just her best friend but he had also been the center of her life for a decade. How could one possibly move on from that, to try a live life while missing a half of ones soul? She knew it wasn't likely, she reserved herself knowing that she was probably going to die an old maid. It was now two a.m and she felt like a ghost in her own life, numbly stumbling through. Smiling when she needed to, covering over the loneliness when asked if she was dating anyone. She was a career woman, she needed nothing more. Or so she told everyone. But she was a ghost of her old self even, there was no spark of ambition in her work. She honestly had taken the first reliable job that had come her way, knowing there was no point to any of it anymore.

Fingering the letter she recalled bits and pieces of his words, it was nearly memorized now….

"The eggs here are so fresh that they practically melt in your mouth, I think you would love them." His wording almost as if he half expected her to come to him, to figure out where he was. But that was not to be, the FBI were still keeping tabs on her. Tracking her movements. If she were to even try and find him they would be all over Jane before she could even get her arms around him. And that's all she really wanted, to feel him there with her and to know he was really okay. Instead all she could do was finger the indentations on the paper and comfort herself with the knowledge that he had made them. That they formed words from him to her, just for her because Jane had not forgotten her.

That was the hardest part, his ending words in the letter. "I haven't forgotten you, I wish you were here. I miss you, this new chapter feels so strange without you here." As she recalled the words she started crying all over again, her throat was raw but she couldn't stop. She wasn't heartbroken, it was just so painful to not know where he was. If he was okay, or if she would ever see him again. Her breath caught in her throat. She had what she needed, but not what she wanted in the end. There was closuer but nothing more, and yet the closure was like a thin veil obscuring the truth. She needed him, and yet they were separated because Jane had killed Red John. Just as he had always promised he would. She didn't even know how to deal with that fact. The man she loved was a killer. Yes she had admitted to herself she loved Jane, he was the only one who she could ever love.

The pain tore at her chest, there would never be another for her. After spending a decade falling in love with a man like Patrick Jane she was now permanently ruined for all other men. She found even the most trivial conversation with the male species boring and mind numbing, there was no challenge. No conversations to try and decipher or philosopichal words to try and unscramble. Lisbon was painfully bored and lonely for the days that Jane would drive her up the wall with his antics and teasing, hell she would even give for a good rhyming match with him again if she could. But she couldn't even write him back to tell him any of this, all his letters were hand delivered and did not have a postage mark.

She let the tears slowly roll down her cheeks, she wished she could at least write him back one letter. To let him know all that he probably knew in his special mentalist way. That she wasn't angry, that she loved him. That she would always be his, that she hoped and prayed that someday he would find his way back to her. Slowly with these thoughts in her mind circling she started to fall asleep, her breathing slowly coming down to an even steady pace. Her final thoughts were of his last words on the page in his three page letter. "Rest Lisbon, all is well here. You need your rest, our adventures are not over yet." She fell asleep and started to dream of their reunion, perhaps it would be on a distant beach somewhere, a place where they could both fall asleep and have peace together.

Read and Review, Thank you in advance. Peace and Love, Kryceksgirl