A/N: Hmm. I enjoy reading all your reviews and reflecting on everyone's guesses about the answers behind this story. I am also pleased to report that one of my lovely reviewers has figured it out. Wondering if it's you? This chapter will let you know!

Another thing, the goal for this particular story was to puzzle its readers. I always planned on adding twists and details that would make the readers question their sanity. However, if it's gotten to the point where you are sincerely aggravated with me as a writer, I encourage you to take a break from this fic. Nothing personal, just some friendly advice. However, if you are enjoying it while being confused and excited at the same time, that's fantastic!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Lisbon's POV

I don't know what to expect.

He looks so hurt that I wonder what he will do.

He isn't saying anything. He's still kneeling in front of me, clasping my hand in his, but his face has fallen from hopeful to tragic and I can't help but feel terribly guilty.

I reach out to touch him. "Jane?"

"It's not mine," he whispers. His eyes are vacant. I've seen this look in his eyes several times, and none of them were pleasant situations. Almost all had to do with Red John, and I could always tell that he was building his walls higher by this damn look in his eyes. But I can't say I've ever been the cause for this particular stare, not until now, and I hate it.

"No," I answer with painful reluctance.

"Oh."

I wipe away another stray tear. "I'm sorry." I'm not sure why I am apologizing. Somehow it just seems like the right thing to do.

He shakes his head numbly. "Don't be," he says softly. He forces a smile, but it is forced. "I'm not sure what I was thinking. I should have known better." He tries to play it off like he thinks the whole situation is funny but I know better. He pats my hand affectionately and I am choked up once more. "I'm sorry, Lisbon. I shouldn't have come here." He stands and turns toward the door.

It's almost a reflex when my hand shoots out and grasps his, almost desperately. When he turns to look at me, my heart sinks at the look of pure heartbreak in his blue eyes. I stand. "Jane, we have to talk about this."

"There is nothing to talk about, Lisbon," he reminds me, a hint of regret in his tone.

My jaw clenches and I shake my head. "I hate it when you lie to me."

He lets out an unexpected groan of exasperation and yanks his hand from mine. "What would you like to talk about, Lisbon? You tell me. Give me a prompt. Because I honestly don't know what you want me to say."

"You're hurt."

We compete in a staring competition for a solid twenty seconds or so before he finally says, "I am not."

"Yes you are."

"What makes you think that?"

"The look in your eyes resembles the same way I felt when I found out about you and Lorelei."

In this moment I feel a sense of victory as I watch Patrick Jane at loss for words. He blinks a few times and opens his mouth as if he is about to speak and then shuts it. I take the opportunity to reach out and touch him again. I brush my fingertips along his and he glances down at my wandering hand. He curls his fingers around mine and squeezes lightly. "I wish I could say that I don't know why I'm upset," he whispers, "but it would be a lie."

I stroke his knuckles with my thumb. "I know." I swallow. "I'm sorry."

He slowly disentangles our fingers and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I should go," he says, moving toward the front door.

I'm not sure what empowers me to do it. Maybe I am just so sick of us dancing around these inevitable feelings that have been surfacing. Maybe I am afraid he will leave me for good this time. Or maybe it's just the damn hormones. But I find myself blurting out the truth all at once. "It was supposed to be you," I exclaim. His hand freezes on the doorknob and he glances back over his shoulder with a confused look on his face. "That night, at the hotel," I go on in a hurry, "the night before Van Pelt killed Red John, I didn't come down to the bar because I got a call saying you were wasted. No one called me. I was looking for you, Jane. I was looking for you." I wait patiently for the realization to hit him and when it does, he drops his hand from the doorknob and turns his body toward me completely.

"Excuse me?" he says incredulously.

"We'd just gotten that note from him," I go on, referring to him as Red John. "You know, the one where he was prodding you about me?" I refuse to recite it aloud, even though I had it perfectly memorized.

I've been watching you pathetically attempt to change the rules of the game I love, the note had said. Watch ME take away the one thing you love most of all. I look forward to seeing Teresa soon.

He didn't even try to pretend like he didn't know what the serial killer was talking about. He simply looked at me and promised, "I will not let anything happen to you."

Now, he nods slowly. "Yes."

"It freaked me out," I confess. "I got to thinking, and I began to worry that any second may be my last. He could have literally taken me anytime, anywhere, and we couldn't do anything about it, if we were being honest." Another tear falls onto my cheek and I curse under my breath. I wipe at it with the back of my hand. "I had a plan," I explain in a hoarse voice. "I was going to tell you everything I was thinking, demand that you forget about Red John for just a little while, and... kiss you."

My cheeks flame as I explain my plans to Jane and they grow even redder as I examine his expression. His mouth is open slightly and his eyes are wide in disbelief. I don't exactly blame him. My confession is a bit shocking, even to me. He takes another tentative step toward me and my bottom lip begins to tremble.

"Why me?" he asks cautiously.

I roll my eyes in an exasperated fashion. I will not spell it out for him. I have too much to lose. "Why do you think?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

I swallow heavily and shake my head. "That's really too bad." I turn and walk toward the staircase.

I don't quite get there.

A hand grips my elbow and pulls me into a warm embrace. Before I know what's happening, Jane's lips are on mine and his hands are digging into my hips. I kiss him back with enthusiasm and my arms find their way around his neck. His arms loop all the way around my waist and he is pulling me closer. My head is spinning and my heart is racing and I am almost overwhelmed by the disappointment that overcomes me when he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.

We stare at each other for a while before he reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I'm sorry," I whisper quietly, allowing my eyes to flutter shut. I don't necessarily have a solid reason for apologizing. I can't even decide if he deserves an apology. But he is Jane, and I am Lisbon. Even though we aren't together, we are Jane and Lisbon and the thought of one of us choosing another companion is almost unthinkable, which is why I was so tormented by the fact that he slept with Lorelei Martins.

I feel like I cheated.

But I didn't.

Jane sighs and frames my face with his hands, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. "I should go," he says again.

I nod reluctantly. "Okay."

He nods and drops his hands, leaning away from me only about a fraction of an inch. "Answer one question. Please."

"Okay."

"Who's the father?"

I let out an involuntary squeak and reach up to cover my mouth with my hands. I had allowed myself to forget about that for the few minutes Jane had kept me distracted. Jane's eyes widen and I suddenly feel the tears burning behind my eyes. He reaches out to touch my face but pulls his hand away. "Lisbon?"

"It's Adam Ross," I blurt.

He looks puzzled for a moment. "Who-" But then he stops and I can almost see the light bulb shining above his head. His eyes transform from forlorn to understanding and suddenly he lunges for me again, gathering me in his arms and holding me so tightly I question whether or not he will let go anytime soon. But I don't mind. I relax into his embrace and let myself sob.

I feel him bury his face into my hair. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, over and over again. He keeps repeating it, not that it changes anything but somehow the combination of his hug and his soothing voice calms me down and eventually my sobs turn to soft snivels.

The father of my child is dead.

He was Red John's last victim.

X

Jane's POV

I keep her in my arms for a total of fourteen entire minutes.

If I were a selfless man I could say that it's all for her, that I'm simply a good person comforting my friend in need. But everyone in the state of California knows that isn't the truth. It is true that I am attempting to comfort her, to make her feel better, even though there is no changing what she is feeling inside. The man who fathered her unborn child was killed by a man who basically only murdered him to hurt me. Lisbon is in pain, and I know I have to be there for her.

But it's not the only reason I am quick to pull her into my embrace. I like her there. She fits perfectly.

When she finally speaks, her voice is raspy due to her minor breakdown. "I thought I had accepted this," she says.

Reluctantly, I loosen my arms around her but do not let her go far. "What?" I ask gently.

"I thought I had accepted the fact that my baby was going to grow up without its father," she croaks. She scoffs and shrugs. "But who knows? Maybe if he were alive he wouldn't want anything to do with us. It's a perfectly reasonable possibility…" She trails off weakly. I know she wants to add, because I had a one night stand with stranger but she is thinking of my feelings.

I grasp her chin in one hand and tilt her head up so I can look her in the eyes. "No stable human being on this planet could ever willingly abandon you, do you understand me?"

"You did."

She doesn't mean to say it; I can see it all over her face. She starts to apologize quickly but I wave a dismissive hand and smirk. "I said stable," I say lightly, "and I said willingly. There was nothing willing about me running away from you."

"I didn't mean to sound so bitter."

"You didn't. You sounded honest."

She smiles softly and tentatively stretches up on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine. It isn't as intense as the last kiss but it still sends the same bolts of electricity shooting through me that I'm sure she can feel. "Thank you, Jane," she says quietly.

"What for?"

"Staying."

X

I don't leave for a long time.

Or perhaps I can't.

We don't talk about Adam Ross at all, nor do we speak of the night she was with him when she was apparently supposed to be with me.

Instead, she tells me about her plans for the rest of her pregnancy, and when the baby is born. She even gives me a little insight on the blurred images she has of the first eighteen years of its life.

I hold her hand the entire time. It encourages her to open up to me.

While I still have not decided exactly how I feel about all of it, I know that I will be there for her every step of the way until she forces me to leave. It makes me excited because I can be there for her. Red John is dead. He isn't constantly forcing me to look over my shoulder or over her shoulder to make sure he isn't creeping up on her, which was always my greatest fear.

Now that he's out of the picture, I can finally be there for her without being afraid of losing her if I get too close.

"Have you thought of names?" I ask her after she finishes telling me about her first doctor's appointment.

She shakes her head. "Not yet. I figure it's still early."

"Yes, but you must have something in mind."

Lisbon shrugs. "There are definitely names I dislike, that will never be on the table."

"Like what?"

"Like, Jane for a girl. Or Patrick for a boy."

"Well, that's just rude."

She laughs.

God, I've missed her laugh lately.

It's getting late and I am sorely tempted to stay just a little longer. But I know if I do I won't be able to ever drag my ass out that door. So I sigh and tell her I really should go this time.

She and I stand from the couch and walk to the front door. She thanks me again, though I'm still not entirely sure why she is thanking me.

And when I kiss her, I find it excruciatingly difficult to stop. The feeling I get is electrifying. I never felt it with Erica Flynn or Lorelei. But this is different. This is Lisbon.

When I am finally able to part with her and walk out the front door, I am forming a plan in my head.

X

She will never see it coming.

I can't decide if I am disappointed or encouraged by that fact.

I ponder this internal dilemma as I watch her from the comfort of my couch. She's consulting with the rest of the team about the latest case. She's asking Grace if anything sticks out in the victim's phone records, and now she's spouting off orders to Rigsby and Cho to go follow up on a lead and now she's looking at me, clearly debating on what she should do with me. It's an everyday conflict for her. Do I really want Jane follow up on a lead on his own or should I just leave him on his couch?

She clearly decides with the latter and gives me a small smile before retreating to her office, and as she exits the bullpen, she subconsciously places her hand on her belly.

My mind begins to wander.

This child is not mine. Am I upset with her for sleeping with someone who is not me? Not particularly. I am hurt, of course. Perhaps a bit jealous. But I slept with Lorelei. Not that Lisbon was interested in getting even with me, but in my mind, it serves as unintentional poetic justice. We weren't together. It isn't like she cheated on me. She deserves happiness. Do I wish this child were mine? I'm not sure. I love Lisbon. With Red John out of the picture I can safely and sanely admit to that. Maybe, on some level, I do wish it were mine. It would make everything less complicated, for me and for her.

Lastly, even though this child isn't mine, will I still invest my time and energy into helping Lisbon with whatever she needs?

Absolutely. Any other option would be unthinkable at this point in time. I'm not about to walk away from her.

X

My heart is pounding as I knock on her door.

I briefly consider turning and fleeing, but remind myself that I am no coward. Even if I am.

But then she opens the door and smiles at me, and I gain a bit of my courage back.

"Hi, Jane," she greets me sweetly.

I like how things are between us. I'm not pushing her away and she isn't shutting me out. Things might be confusing but we can figure it out.

My heart warms and I smile back. "Hello."

She steps to the side of the door a bit. "Do you want to come in?"

I nod wordlessly and step across the threshold. She shuts the door and walks into the kitchen. "Would you like some tea? I might have some Earl Grey around here somewhere." She begins rummaging through the cupboards and I spring into action.

I get down on one knee and pull out the black box from my jacket pocket.

"Oh, here's some!" she exclaims excitedly, pulling the box of tea from one of her cupboards. She turns around to face me and her expression goes from pleasant to shocked. The box falls from her hands and clatters to the floor. "Jane, what are you doing?"

"Teresa Lisbon, will you marry me?"

TBC

For some reason, that was a beast to write. I'm sure it was just as difficult and confusing to read. However, I hope I still have you interested, and I hope you will continue reading and reviewing. Thanks for your support!