A/N: So. Here I am. Updating a supposed-to-be oneshot. ... Aaanyway, this is the second chapter, as you can see. Good news: There will be more chapters, too, because for some reason I love you people :D Yes, you. Bad news: This will probably be all you get for awhile. As I've complained about before, my teachers have no respect for me. (Therefore, I have no respect for them. Yay, detention! :D Just kidding, my mom would murder me with no regard for the CBI team's schedule :P) I will do my best, but until I am blessed with a study hall, it's gonna be slow going for who knows how long. Thanks to Simonisthecuttestmentalist, Lizzybeth93, lysjelonken, Jisbon4ever, sandra, and my lovely cousin Rachael (whom I forced to read the first chapter) for their awesome reviews that made me smile:) And I need smiles, because my kitten just died. Not a happy time.

Oi, I've lapsed back into writing long author's notes!
Thank you Lizzybeth93 for being an amazing beta and sticking with me for so long! (You deserve a cookie, but I can't bake, so... sorry :D)
This chappie is for lysjelonken, because she so kindly asked for a second chapter. You're welcome, Zanny! xoxo
And Crystal, I hope this answers your question! ;)

Disclaimer: Looks like I'll have another blue Christmas without the rights to The Mentalist. Or Elvis Presley lyrics. Now I'm depressed again.

Warnings: Slight language (just in, like, one spot!)

Lisbon was going to find him.

She had toyed with the idea ever since he'd left, but now she was certain: she was going after him.

Another year had passed since that day, making it a total of six years since he kissed her, and just one year after he had returned with his gift for her. The origami frog sat on her bedside table at home, beside a framed picture of him that she had managed to find. In the photo, he was happy, the way Lisbon had always thought she would want to remember him.

Now, it was different. Now she hoped, wherever he was, Jane was not happy. He had deserted the team, deserted her, almost without a second thought. He didn't deserve to be happy. Not without Lisbon, not if she wasn't happy.

Which she wasn't. The Serious Crimes Unit's closed-case rate had plummeted since he left. Her brother, Tommy, was on probation for possession of a narcotic—again. She was depressed every morning when she arrived at the CBI, and left at night even more so. Her evenings seemed shorter, because there was no Jane-paperwork. This should have meant she got more sleep, but she didn't; she got less now than she had before.

Lisbon didn't understand why Jane hadn't come back and stayed. The Red John case was closed. There were no charges against him. He was considered a hero for the victims' families.

But he was still gone.

He didn't call, write, or try to contact her or the rest of the team some other, unconventional, Jane way.

She hated him for that. But she missed him.

absence makes the heart grow fonder

A piece of her had fled with him and hadn't returned.

fondness makes the absence longer

The hole that piece left ached more every time she walked past the empty space where his couch used to be; when she glanced at the picture of him or the origami frog; and when she saw a curly-haired blonde man on the street. Once, before the frog incident, she even saw a baby blue Citroën DS21 pull into the CBI parking lot. She'd leapt from her chair, sending it against the wall with a tremendous crash (which attracted the attention of everyone in the hall and in the bullpen), and sprinted to the window to get a better look. But the little car only circled the lot once and pulled out again. The license plate number wasn't even close to his.

She had cried herself to sleep that night.

"I miss you," she whispered.

"Lisbon?" Cho's voice brought her back to the present. "Are you okay?"

She could tell he was truly concerned. So she lied. "Yeah, I'm all right."

"You were thinking about him." It wasn't a question.

She nodded wordlessly. Cho fell silent and turned his ever-stony gaze back to the road. There was a report of a murder in Malibu, near Jane's old house. It was still empty; it hadn't been put on the market. Lisbon had the feeling it would never be sold.

She tried not to of the location of the crime scene as they drove on. She knew she should care more, but she couldn't bring herself to do something. Her condition, not only emotional, but physical as well, was deteriorating quickly. She ate one meal a day and showered only when she had the energy. Some nights she didn't sleep at all. She didn't know why she was letting Jane's absence tear her apart...

...which was another lie. It was because of the kiss. The kiss had changed everything. It was why, when she finally fell asleep, she would wake up less than an hour later, choking on tears and his name. It meant that Jane cared for her—maybe even loved her. She used to deny that she had feelings for him before he left; now she didn't even bother.

She knew she loved him.

Suddenly, she heard herself say, "I'm going to find him."

Cho started and looked at her.

"I'm going to find him," she repeated. "And I'm going to bring him back."

l^l^l^l^l

When they finally arrived at the scene, Lisbon was in her own world, imagining the what ifs. What if Jane had stayed? What if she hadn't thrown away the first frog? What if he hadn't come back to give her another?

What if he hadn't killed Red John in the first place?

Cho placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "We're here, Lisbon."

Lisbon blinked and looked at him: her second-in-command; her partner; her friend. "Okay." She wanted to smile at him, to reassure him, but she couldn't. Not until everything got better.

They got out of the car and saw Rigsby and Van Pelt pull up in the other Suburban. Together they made their way to the area that was cordoned off with the familiar yellow police tape, their party lacking only a blonde, bright-eyed, three-piece-suit-clad consultant. Lisbon thought she saw him, making his way through the growing crowd. She stopped and strained her eyes, trying to catch another glimpse. But he–or whoever it had been–was gone. It couldn't have been him, anyway.

When she turned back to her team, she saw that they had stopped, too. They were looking at her, pity clear in their expressions. They knew it wouldn't be long before she cracked. She had to find him, soon.

"Are you Agent Lisbon?" A uniformed man that Lisbon presumed to be a local rookie walked up to Cho. He gestured at her silently. The rookie glanced at Lisbon questioningly, but approached her all the same. "Agent, I'm Officer Barron. Sheriff Hutchinson wants to see you immediately. He says it's important."

Because he's not the one I was looking for, Lisbon thought sarcastically. "Take me to him."

"He's over there," the rookie said, pointing to a tall, middle-aged man who was talking to another officer.

"Officer, when someone higher-ranked than you gives you an order, you don't half-ass it," Lisbon said. She knew she was being rude, but she just didn't care anymore. "Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Without another word, the officer led Lisbon and her team to Sheriff Hutchinson. "Sheriff, Agent Lisbon is here."

"Thank you, Barron," the sheriff said quickly. He seemed distressed. After Barron had left, he asked, "Agent, may I speak to you privately?"

"Something wrong, Sheriff?"

"No, everything's fine." His eyes gave him away, but Lisbon let it go.

After she had given orders to her team, she gestured to a quieter area a few feet away. "After you, Sir."

When they were alone, Sheriff Hutchinson seemed to calm down a bit. "First, you have to promise that you don't become upset."

"Sheriff, I don't have time for games, I'm here to solve a murder—"

"That's just it, Agent. There wasn't a murder." He was being completely serious.

"Then why was the CBI called?" Lisbon demanded.

"Because..." Hutchinson heaved a tired sigh. "Just come with me. I'll explain as quickly as I can." He began walking away from her, toward the yellow tape. Reluctantly, Lisbon followed him. What the hell was going on?

"So what is it, Sheriff?" she asked.

"We called you because we were told to. You'll understand more when you see..."

"When I see what?"

"When you see what was left for you," he replied uncomfortably. "It's a note, addressed to you. It said to call the CBI and get your team, specifically, to come here. There is no body. No one has been hurt or killed."

"Who's it from?" Lisbon had to struggle to keep her voice level.

"It's not signed. It said not to check for fingerprints, either. We were waiting for you, to see what you wanted."

She nearly interrupted him as she blurted, "I want to read it."

"All right." The sheriff spoke into his radio, waited for his answer, and nodded at her. "Come on." She followed him more closely this time. This is it. He's finally trying to talk to me again, she thought excitedly. Her body was humming with energy now.

When they had ducked under the tape, Sheriff Hutchinson led her to a small portable table. There were pictures and pieces of paper fluttering gently in the breeze, held down by thumbtacks. The locals hadn't worried about damaging evidence; this wasn't evidence, anyway. The sheriff detached the note from the table and handed it to Lisbon. She had to restrain herself from tearing it out of his hands.

The first paragraph consisted of typed directions intended for the police. She skimmed over those quickly. Then she reached the important part, written in handwriting that she would remember anywhere, and began reading.

Dear Teresa,

I know you probably hate me. I would hate me, too. But please don't give up on me. And don't give up on yourself. You don't deserve the hell I know I've put you through. Just forget about me, and all the pain will go away, I promise.
Then again...
I don't want you to forget about me. I've been doing some soul-searching lately, and I've realized something. Actually, I've realized a few things, all of which I can't tell you now.
So the only alternative is to find me, isn't it? Unless you truly hate me, which I doubt you do. Some part of you has to miss me, at least I hope.
I miss you. I wish you would smile more. I wish I wasn't the reason you're not happy now. I'm so sorry, Teresa, please understand that.
And if I were you, I would find me. If that makes any sense, I'll be seeing you soon.

She looked up, blinking to keep the tears at bay. "Is this all there was?" she asked Hutchinson.

"Yes. But it was folded up when we found it."

Lisbon froze. "F-Folded up how?"

"I don't know. I do know that we have pictures of it, if you want to see them."

"Yes, I do."

He looked at the table. She followed his gaze and found herself looking at a large photo. The sun was shining off of it, creating a glare. Sheriff Hutchinson was much taller than Lisbon, so he could probably see what was in the picture. Carefully, she untacked it and lifted it until the glare faded.

She wasn't surprised at what she saw. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll be taking this note with me, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Agent. You take care."

"I will," Lisbon replied. "Thank you."

They shook hands. Hutchinson smiled at her softly. Shocking herself, Lisbon smiled back. Then she turned and left, nearly giddy with joy.

When she found her team, they were full of questions.

"Is it true that there isn't a body?" Rigsby asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"Why were you gone so long?" Van Pelt enquired.

"Sorry Van Pelt, Sheriff Hutchinson had to show me something."

"What do you have there?" Cho pointed at the creased paper in her hand.

"It's... it's a note for me. From Jane." More questions were fired at her, but she just said, "I have to go," and headed to the Suburban. She was going to find Jane, and she was going to bring him back.

And she was leaving immediately.

A/N: Maybe I should just title this Origami Frogs, because they're just popping up everywhere. (Random fact: I got Officer Barron's and Sheriff Hutchinson's names off of this website that lists the 1000 Most Common Surnames. It's actually quite helpful when you're looking for names.) Was Jane's note okay? great? crap? Tell me, please! Also, this is actually a really long chapter. Yeah, don't get used to that, at least for this fic. :)

The following quote is my absolute favorite:

Today you are You; that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you. ~ Dr. Seuss