He pulls up to the warehouse, scene sprawled with lights and police officers. He jumps out of the car, and runs straight towards Rigsby.
"Hey, Jane."
"Where is she? Is she okay?" He asks, unable to stand still.
"She's alive, but I don't know where she is." Rigsby replies, looking around. "Don't you want to hear what happened with-"
"Yeah later." He says, waving his hand. He turns and runs further into the crowd. "Lisbon!"
"…Red John." Rigsby mutters, turning for his car.
The paramedic carefully wraps a bandage around her forearm.
"That'll do it. You're good to go, Agent Lisbon."
"Thank you." As she gingerly hops off the stretcher, she hears her name floating through the crowd.
"Lisbon!" She stands up straight, trying to see through the sea of forensics and officers.
"Jane?"
"Lisbon?" He calls, emerging from a wall of people. Recognition flickers on his face as he sprints towards her. She takes a few tentative steps towards him, arms outstretched. He embraces her tightly, squeezing her close.
"I didn't know if you were alive…" He says, tightening his hold on her.
"I'm okay. Few cuts and bruises." She nestles her head into his chest, soaking in his warmth.
"So he didn't hurt you? You're okay?"
"I'm okay." He sighs, relieved. Standing there, in the cool night air, officials scrambling to get work done, the lights still flashing…he doesn't care about Red John. He cares about her.