[So. This is it...A special thanks to those who followed this story...and gazillion thanks to mamacrime25 and GraceVanPeltFan4ever, without whom I probably would have given up a long time ag.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to the six of you awesome people.

Disclaimer: Bruno Heller doesn't start with a J. My name starts with a J. Therefoe, I am not Bruno Heller.]

Chapter Ten: Remember

Grace lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. So much had been taken away from her, it seemed.

Lisbon

Jane

Cho.

And in some ways, even Wayne. The man would never see her through the same eyes now that she was frail, weak, scarred.

It was overwhelming, she realized. Very overwhelming. In one second, Red John had taken away a life. That night he had taken another's sanity. The next week, from the grave, he had finally won.

Grace just wished the son of a gun was still alive so she could shoot him in the head.

He had even taken away her face. Not that Grace was shallow enough to admit it, but she missed her good looks. Looks weren't everything, not at all, but now young children would point and stare, and adults would either try not to look at her face or be the same as their chldren.

Grace became drawn over with a wave of need. She needed to see her face.

So she proceeded into her restroom, where she ever so careully opened her eyes.

Her mouth opened slightly at the sight of it. Her right eye, untouched, but the skin above her left eyebrow had swelled, and it was a festering red. Her nose had large chunks missing, and the skin around it was also swelled. Her lips, though, were what scared Grace most. She ran a gentle finger over them. They were swollen to the touch, cracked and chapped.

She backed away, wondering, dreaming if she would ever heal. She was...disgusted with herself.

As she raked her fingers down the scarred, burnt face that she could hardly believe was her own, she sobbed, and remembered. Remembered that night.

There was no speaking in the CBI vehicle as they zoomed out of the parking lot. Grace could hardly imagine they were out to get the infamous Red John

Surely something would go wrong?

She stole a glance at her boss, studying Lisbon's face. It was stony and solemn, but there was something...off.

She couldn't tell what it was though. Surely she would ask about it later, after this was all over.

As boss switched on the headlights, Van Pelt turned her gaze back to the road. Keep an eye out fo license plate GHT 374, she reminded herself.

And when the dark, blood-red truck broadsided them that same second, Grace was strangely calm. Serene, even, as she felt her seatbelt tear and her body crash though the windshield. As she flw through the air, her last thought before smashing against the street was Lisbon? Is Lisbon okay?

And then, she collided with the pavement, sliding a good ten yards before coming to a rest, she stared at the sky, which was lit up like day. She didn't know what from though. Surely she would ask Lisbon later, because of course Lisbon was all right. She was Lisbon. Lisbon was always all right.

And so, reassured, she shut her eyes.

Grace leaned on her hands, which were propped on either side of the sink. She panted, sarring into the mirror. And then, she retched, filling the sink with her puke.

When she was finished, she rushed into her bedroom, scrambling for her cell phone, pressing one on speed dial.

When he answered, she rasped, "Wayne, I remembered. Come over quick."

He was over before Grace had even prepared their tea.

[A/N: The first of the oneshots will be up soon...it'll be interesting. Lisbon's POV!

Excerpt from next chapter:

"TWO YEARS LATER"

And if you can guess what was off about Lisbon...huzzah to you!]