Story 2 – Memories

a Jane & Lisbon Story

By Brown Eyes Parker

Summary:

Just when Jane is about to kill Red John, something stops him. Somebody stops him. Based on "Mercy" by OneRepublic.

Disclaimer:

I don't own Jane and Lisbon. If I did, Jane would already realize that Lisbon is slowly pulling him out of the darkness. And I wouldn't let the guest stars *cough* Leslie Hope *cough* say whatever they wanted about their appearances on the show. And I would kind of keep in check what Simon Baker/Robin Tunney said. (But not really, because I like to hear their opinions.) And I don't own the OneRepublic song, "Mercy". If I owned OneRepublic, they would write tons and tons of Jane/Lisbon songs.

Author's Note:

If you've never listened to this song, PLEASE DO! You won't be disappointed, it is pure beauty. A Jane and Lisbon song, for sure.

.

Angel of mercy, how did you find me?

Where did you read my story?

Pulled from the papers, desperate and hardened

Seeking a momentary fix

All I wanted to say. . .

All I wanted to do. . .

Angel of mercy how did you find me?

How did you pick me up again?

Angel of mercy, how did you move me?

Why am I on my feet again?

I see you, oh, oh. . .

I feel you, oh, oh. . .

Mercy, OneRepublic_

He stood, aimed with the gun targeted at Red John's heart. He was determined to shoot him, ready to extract his revenge. When her voice broke through the angry thoughts swirling around in his head.

"Jane! Don't do it Jane! Please. . . please look at me! Jane!" She pleaded, her voice catching in her throat.

He tried to block out her voice, focusing more and more on Red John's face.

"Look at me Jane!" She begged, getting ready to lunge at him, wrestle the gun away from his hands.

He looked at her, but mostly to tell her to stop so he could concentrate on what he was doing. When his eyes found her's, time stood still and he was caught up in a thousand memories.

Memories of their first meeting, she had come to see him when he was released from the mental institute. He was sitting outside his Malibu home, smoking a cigarette, and staring out on the ocean. . . wishing that he could somehow find a way to bring Angela back. Wishing that he could somehow find a way to bring Charlotte back. All of that was forgotten when a petite, brunette with piercing green eyes had stepped onto his porch.

He remembered how earlier that day, he had signed up to work with a team at the CBI. . . Shophie Miller had suggested he turn all his negative energy into helping others, who had had similar things happen to them. They had told him, they would talk to somebody and see if they were willing to take him on as a consultant.

That's how she had wound up on his front porch that day. Teresa Lisbon. She had just been promoted to Senior agent, and they had assigned her the Red John case. Besides that, she had looked over his track record with the Malibu police department. He was somebody she would like to work with. . . he was somebody that she liked to have on her side.

He agreed to help her, and she asked him to stop smoking. He laughed and tossed out the cigarette, it wasn't something he did anyways. He had just wanted to experiment with it, because everybody else in his therapy group had done it.

He blinked away the memories, but more came. Memories of how one week later, they had solved their first case together. Memories of how she had smiled at him while they ate closed-case pizza. Memories of how he knew, he had found a place to stay for as long as he needed to.

"Jane!"

Her voice brought on more memories, beautiful and sweet.

Memories of origami frogs, and Emeralds, and strawberries, and the way she smelled like cinnamon. Memories of the way her face felt. . . her face, every contour ingrained into his hand, and his brain. Memories of trust falls, and pony birthday presents, and the way she looked when she said there were people who needed him, and cared about him.

Memories of first hugs, Diamond tiaras, and I love you's that were only play-acting. . . but very true all the same. Memories of first dances, and a date in a borrowed car. Memories of telling her that he would call her if he were dying, and the look on her face. Memories of being kidnapped together, and promises that he'd always be there to save her— but how could he be there to save her when they'd probably arrest him for murder?

"Jane, please!" She was really crying now.

He lowered his gun and threw it like it had burned him. He took a few steps towards her.

"I knew you didn't have it in you," Red John taunted, the fear that had taken up residence on his face was suddenly gone.

"You're not worth it," Jane replied, not even bothering to look at him . . . afraid if he did, he would do something that he regretted.

"I knew you wouldn't do it," she whispered.

Red John made an angry noise as he fought to get out of the rope that Jane had tied him in. Jane wasn't supposed to be happy, or find peace. He wasn't supposed to find a reason for living. He was supposed to be enslaved to him for the rest of his life, a body without a soul. . . a hopeless picture of the man he used to be.

He needed to get out, needed to punish him one last time. But the ropes were too tight, they were cutting into his wrists and ankles. . . burning him. He watched in horror as Jane and Lisbon found each other, fell into each other's arms. . . kissed for a millisecond. He watched as Jane wiped away Lisbon's tears, and pulled her to himself again.

With another yank, he freed himself. . . scrambled to get the gun that Jane had discarded. He pointed the gun at Lisbon, pulled the trigger, and watched with satisfaction as she crumpled to the floor, taking Jane with her.

"Lisbon!" Jane shouted, crawling over to her and examining her to make sure the bullet wound wasn't fatal.

Lisbon smiled at him, taking a deep breath. "I'm okay. He barely got me."

Jane looked down at her, paralyzed. . . he didn't know what to do. He had just found Lisbon, and now he was going to lose her again. He stood, turned to face Red John. But before he had a chance to act, two gunshots rang out, both hitting the serial killer straight in the heart. And Cho was rushing into the warehouse with Rigsby at his heels.

"Are you okay?" Cho asked.

"It's Lisbon," Jane answered, looking at Red John with shock. "I'm fine. . . take care of Lisbon."

Soon, they were loading Lisbon into an ambulance, and taking her to the hospital. They said she'd be fine, Red John had only shot her in the knee. . . if they operated right away, there wouldn't be any long-term damage.

.

Jane sat next to Lisbon's bed, waiting for her to wake up from her operation. There were more memories in his mind, memories of Lisbon and of him. . . together.

Memories of how panicked he had felt when Lisbon had called him and asked him how to defuse a bomb. He had wanted to jump into the phone, and drag her out of the room and to safety. Memories of forgetting about his couch and his attic hide-away, and spending more time with her in her office. Memories of buying her a new couch, and catching her trying to get comfortable on it.

Memories of the night he couldn't sleep, and she had found him in the CBI attic. She had laid down next to him on the cot, and she had held him. . . soon after that, sleep had found him. It was the best sleep he had ever had. Memories of the next morning, waking up in her arms, her hair messy with sleep, her eyes still closed. He had known that he could wake up every morning like that. . . wake up to her.

Memories of how on his birthday, she had stolen his house key and made him his favorite dinner, including a cake. Memories of finding her at the cemetery one cloudy afternoon, putting flowers on Angela and Charlotte's graves. They had kissed for the first time that afternoon. It wasn't passionate, but it was filled with desire and longing. Memories of how, she was the only one who could make his tea exactly the way he liked it, and how she would do it for him, just because.

It hit him. He needed her. She was his angel of mercy. . .she had been sent to save him. He hadn't wanted saving, he didn't think that he needed to be saved. . . but she had done it, probably when he wasn't looking. An errant tear slid down his cheek, and soon they were falling thick, and fast, and freely. He got out of his chair and knelt down beside her bed, he took her hand and kissed it.

"Lisbon. . . Teresa, when you wake up, I am going to tell you that I love you. And after that, I am going to spend the rest of my life loving you. It'll be you and me forever, if that's what you want. I need you Lisbon. . . please wake up. Please tell me that there can be an us—"

"Jane?" Lisbon said groggily, she didn't open her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Are you okay?" Jane asked.

"I've never been better. Will you stay with me?" She asked.

"Yes," Jane answered. "Yes, of course."

"Good," she said, drifting back off to sleep.

.

Finally, five days later, on Valentine's day, Lisbon was released. After talking it over with the team, and Lisbon's doctors they all agreed that Jane should be the one to pick her up. He was waiting for her when the nurse wheeled her out.

She smiled at him. "They told me that you were coming."

Jane waved the nurse off and helped Lisbon out of the chair. "Yeah, here I am."

"Here you are." Lisbon turned to the nurse, threading her arm through Jane's waist. "Thank you, he can take it from here. . . he usually takes good care of me."

"Okay." the nurse winked. "You and Mr. Lisbon have a good Valentine's day."

"Oh, he's not Mr. Lisbon—"

"You and Mr. Jane then," the nurse replied, checking the discharge information. (She figured that Lisbon had kept her maiden name for work purposes). "Don't forget to go and see your doctor in two days, so he can change the bandages."

"I'll make sure she gets there," Jane answered.

"Okay," the nurse smiled and waited until Jane had Lisbon buckled into his car before leaving them.

"You didn't do it," Lisbon said as they drove away.

"No," Jane answered. "No. . . because I made a promise to you. And I couldn't have kept that promise in jail."

"I knew. . . I knew you wouldn't do it. I always knew."

Jane stopped at a red light. "I think I always knew too. . ."

"Maybe that's why you was sent to me," Lisbon said quietly. "So I could stop you from making a mistake that you would regret for the rest of your life."

"I would have to agree with you," Jane replied. "But I think it was the other way around. You were sent to me. To save me. . . from myself, from every stupid thing I would have done the last seven years. I needed you—"

She sighed like she had been expecting something like this for a long time. "And now that you don't need me, you'll be going."

"No, because I still need you, I think I'm going to need you the rest of my life" he answered. "And I love you. I am going to spend the rest of my life loving you. . . if that's what you want."

"I want it so very much," Lisbon admitted, her voice quivering with emotion. "Because, I love you too."

_The End_