DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING
A/N: This takes place two months after the season finale. *SPOILER ALERT* if you haven't seen the season finale: In this story Lisbon was still shot by O'Loughlin. I did however change how and where Red John was killed.
Jane pulls his blue Citroen off onto the shoulder of the road and kills the engine. He runs a hand over his tired face. He's been driving for hours, for days. He's been all the way to the East coast and now he's back, right on the state line of California. Part of him wants to turn right back around and just drive. He's been so completely lost since it's happened he's not sure he can ever find himself again.
Stepping out into the dark night, he pauses to look up at the billions upon billions of stars above him. The calm air about him shifts suddenly and before he knows what he's doing, Jane is angrily and viciously kicking in the front bumper of the car. He lets out a primal yell with one last kick.
"It doesn't feel like you though it would, does it?"
Jane spins around only to see his wife Angela leaning against the hood of the Citroen. There is a soft glow about her letting Jane know that this is only something his frazzled and weary mind has conjured up.
"No." He replies icily.
"Deep down you knew it would never make everything magically better, you knew Patrick, but you let revenge blind you."
"I had to do it." Jane insists.
"No, Patrick, you didn't."
Jane feels a surge of anger shoot through him and his fists clench at his sides. "I did this for you." Jane says, his voice desperate, trying to rationalize the fact that he killed a man and not just any man, but Red John.
The apparition of his wife drifts over to him and places her hand on his cheek. "This stopped being about Charlotte and I long ago Patrick. We both know that. This was about you and your single minded need to destroy the man who you believed destroyed your life."
"No." Jane whispers, tears now freely falling from his blue eyes.
Angela's hand slips from his face. "Yes," she tells him. "your life was never destroyed Patrick." He looks at her confused yet somehow deep in the back of his mind he knows exactly what she means. "It was broken. It was broken for so long, but you know it wasn't broken beyond repair." Jane shakes his head violently and he feels the ghost of a touch on his cheek again as his wife stills him. "You had her. You still have her Patrick. She's the only one who can fix you, wants to fix you and you want to let her. She needs you to fix her too. You just have to let her. Stop being selfish. Stop living only for yourself. You know I wouldn't want that for you and neither would our daughter."
Jane ducks his head down and swallows hard. "It's too late now. What's done is done."
"Why does everything always have to be end game for you Patrick? Do or die? You have a second chance at life. Don't ruin that for yourself. Red John was a monster but you let him consume you. Now he's dead, by your own hand and nothing has changed. There's no weight lifted off your shoulders, you don't feel redemption, and Charlotte and I are never coming back."
"What do you want me to do? I did everything! What do you want me to do?" Jane pleads, feeling his knees buckle.
"I want you to live, Patrick."
With that, Jane watches as the vision of his wife fades away into nothing and he is left all alone on the long, lonely stretch of highway in the middle of the night by himself once again. He frustratedly pulls at his blond curls and takes a few erratic breaths, trying to calm himself. She's right... well, his subconscious that manifested itself as his deceased wife, is right. For so many years he had been hunting down Red John and now that he achieved his goal... nothing. He feels nothing. It was nothing like he imagined it to be. He had a choice the entire time. Hell, that choice had been with him every single day for the past three years standing right by his side, but he let himself be blinded my the monster that was Red John.
Even though he's killed Red John, Jane still has the same nauseating and guilty feeling in is gut, because in a way that that bastard Red John is still winning.
Pulling himself up off the ground, Jane knows what he has to do... what he needs to do... what he wants to do and has all along. He's just so paralyzed by fear that he thinks it might be too late. It might be too late he thinks, as he gets into the car and starts up the engine, but he will be damned if he isn't going to try.
...
Jane stands at her front door completely disheveled. His handsome face is covered in stubble, his trademark three piece suit is dirty and torn, and he's exhausted both mentally and physically, but nothing holds him back as he knocks on the apartment door.
It takes a few minutes but he eventually hears soft foot steps padding towards the door. His breath catches in his chest when he sees the door knob turn slightly and then stop. He knows she looked through the peep hole, saw that it was him.
Lisbon feels her heart constrict painfully in her chest. She stands up on her tip toes and looks through the peep hole one more time to make sure she isn't hallucinating. The pain meds she's been begrudgingly taking are strong, but not that strong. She has to wonder for a moment if this is just another sick and taunting dream. He's been missing for over two months now. She figured she'd never see him again. Why would he suddenly show up now? Lisbon knows it's not a dream when she hears him say her name through the door, soft and determined.
"Please Teresa, open the door."
Her fingers twitch against the door knob and despite every single bone in her body screaming at her to turn around and walk away, she doesn't. She knows even if she doesn't let him in he'll find a way. He always finds a way to get what he wants. She knows that all too well.
Jane can feel himself crumbling on the inside when the door opens and Lisbon is standing in front of him looking so small and broken in the oversized jersey he still has dreams about. Her skin is so pale, almost tranlustent and her gorgeous green eyes are full of sadness and betrayal. She doesn't even attempt to hide it.
The jersey slips down revealing her shoulder. There's an enormous faded yellow and purple bruise there.
Jane's mind flashes back to that day, hearing the bullet sound out over the phone. He remembers his entire world stopping at that exact moment. He remembers not breathing again until he heard her, knew that she was still alive. Jane wants nothing more than to reach out and gently run his fingers over the wound, take the pain away, but he stops himself. Now that Lisbon is actually standing there in front of him in the flesh, he can't bring himself to say a word.
She's the first one to break the silence. "To say this visit was unexpected would be the understatement of the century." Her comment is sarcastic and teasing, all too familiar and so completely Lisbon, but there is no genuine amusement behind it and it shatters Jane's heart.
Lisbon lets her hand slip from the door knob and walks away leaving the door open. Jane waits a few minutes before walking into her dark apartment and closing the door behind him.
Lisbon is sitting on the couch, her bare legs tucked underneath her. All Jane can do is stand there and stare.
"Shouldn't you be off somewhere celebrating? You got what you wanted. He's dead Jane. You killed him, nice and slow just like you wanted and you even got away with it. Sure, we all know you did it but no one can prove it. No one was at that warehouse with you and the truth is, no one wants to prove it."
"There's been no celebration."
Lisbon laughs humorlessly at that. "How is that possible Jane? You finally achieved your goal, avenged your family. Victory." She says and shrugs her shoulders.
"It was no victory." Jane says, his voice steady and calm. "If anything I feel hollow, drained, robbed." His heart flutters when he sees the confused spark in her eyes.
She quickly shakes her head and brushes it off. "How is that possible? It's what you lived and breathed for."
"All those years," Jane says, not answering her, "every move I made was spent plotting my revenge because I thought Red John had destroyed my life. The truth is, I didn't feel anything except for regret after I killed him. Regret that I let him control my life for so long. Regret that I let him rob me of moving on in any way. You were right, I should have chosen life..."
"Jane." She says his name to stop him. She's pretty sure she knows what he's about to say and she's not sure if she can handle it, but he continues on anyway.
"Should have chosen you."
Lisbon ducks her head and Jane can see tears begin to spill down her cheeks.
"You son of a bitch." She whispers.
Jane reaches her in a few short strides and is down on his knees in front of the couch, wrapping his strong arms around her small waist and pulling her down onto the floor in front of him. She futilely tries pushing him away but he grabs her wrists and waits until she calms down. She finally looks up at him and she's so earth shatteringly beautiful Jane can't stop the painful and wild pounding of his heartbeat, doesn't want to stop it, because this is the first time, since he came home that night to find what Red John had done to his family, that he feels alive again, truly and completely alive.
Jane cups Lisbon's face in his large hands and wipes her tears away with his thumbs. He leans his forehead against hers and Lisbon's hands fist into the fabric of his vest. Jane begins to press soft tender kisses down her neck and then delicately over her wounded shoulder. He slowly gets up bringing her along with him and lays back against the couch, tucking her protectively into his side. It's silent for a long time and all he can hear is her breathing and heartbeat intermingling with his in perfect harmony.
"I'm never going to stop fighting you." Lisbon says against Jane's stubbled jaw.
An enormous grin spreads across his handsome, worn face. For the first time in a long time Jane feels whole again, he's no longer lost and it has everything to do with Teresa Lisbon.
THE END?
A/N: I'm debating on whether or not I should keep this a one shot or try and make it into something more.