A/N: This chapter is less sad than the previous one :D.

And I'm not really creative with thinking of an Author's Note, so I'll just skip to the disclaimer and then the chapter :D.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Cho had told Van Pelt and Rigsby what had happened to Jane. He was calm about it, but they could read in his eyes that he was genuinely worried about Jane.

It was understandable, they all were. Maybe it was best that Jane lost it like this, they got to think about something other than their own pain. That was the last thing they wanted to think about.

Now, Rigsby was sitting next to Jane. Jane had grabbed the man's hand immediately when Rigsby sat down beside him. But Rigsby didn't feel awkward because of this. Jane needed someone now, didn't matter who, and Rigsby was closest.

Unfortunately, Rigsby couldn't do anything now that his hand was intertwined with Jane's. So the only thing he could do was look at the man who was – seemingly – peacefully sleeping.

A nurse entered the room, to check on Jane, and smiled weakly at Rigsby.

"It's sad, isn't it?" she asked, and Rigsby startled at the fact that she'd started talking to him. He faintly nodded.

"True love."

Rigsby huffed despite how right these words were.

"Funny thing is that neither of them admitted their feelings before she passed away."

"Oh. Well, that's unfortunate."

Rigsby smiled faintly.
"Well, I would be flattered if a man lost it like that because I died. It's a bit melancholic, yes, but beautiful nevertheless. Though I wouldn't want him to be sad that long. I would want him to find another woman and fall in love again."

"That would be the third time for him."

The nurse frowned.
"Third?"

"He had a family before he met Lisbon. They were killed."

The nurse sighed, and looked at Jane. "Poor man."

Rigsby nodded. The nurse continued checking Jane, before smiling faintly at Rigsby and then leaving the room.

Rigsby slightly squeezed Jane's hand. Rigsby would have really felt awkward if Cho held his hand like this. But the reason Jane was this silent and peaceful was not okay. Nobody would put Jane in a situation like this.

If he hadn't hit the machine though, he would've been out already. Now that the hospital staff doubted his sanity, they wanted to keep him there just a little longer, undoubtedly to protect him from himself.

Van Pelt appeared in the door opening, a soft smile on her lips.

"He's sleeping," stated Rigsby. Van Pelt rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious."

Rigsby smiled.

He stood, but when he let go of Jane's hand, he woke up, already freaking out.

"Lisbon?" crooked Jane. Van Pelt sighed, and walked to his side, gently brushing his cheek.

"No, Jane, it's me, Grace, and Wayne."

Jane sighed when he looked up into Van Pelt's amber eyes, and she saw him swallowing to get rid of the lump in his throat.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't, his voice broken. Tears were already threatening to fall, and Van Pelt sighed.
"Sleep, Jane. Please. I will be here when you're having a bad dream. I promise," she whispered, and Jane took in a deep breath, before closing his eyes again.

Van Pelt nodded at Rigsby, as if to say I got it, and he nodded back, before leaving the room.

Van Pelt spent minutes on looking at Jane. This was a real-life example of what love could do to you. She'd seen it in movies, lots of times, but had thought it was rubbish. You couldn't possibly kill yourself because of love, could you? Tales like Romeo and Julliet had never been realistic to her.

But now, here he was. Jane. Hopelessly in love with Lisbon. Who had died. Just like his first wife had. He was lucky that there was somebody there for him now. When Angela had died, he had been all alone. She didn't know much about what happened between his family's deaths and the day he signed in with the CBI – she knew Lisbon knew almost everything, but unfortunately, the woman had never been so kind to tell her – but she did know he was all alone back then. Not that Jane really wanted people to help him; 'he was a monster, he didn't deserve caring and loving people around him any more.'

He had people now. People who cared about him.

Van Pelt had already forgotten her own feelings. They were so not important when one of her friends was in the hospital because of his feelings. She had always known feelings could get you killed. Craig had almost killed her, and Lisbon, and if he had the chance also Hightower and her children. Thank God she shot and killed the man. But it were her feelings that had really almost killed Lisbon. Because while Van Pelt had been kneeling next to Craig, Lisbon had been shot in her arm without anyone checking if she would survive or not.

"Do you think she loved me?" asked Jane, and Van Pelt startled. She hadn't seen him wake up, too lost in thoughts.

She sighed almost immediately when his question sank in. She hadn't heard anything about Jane asking these questions to Cho or Rigsby. Why did he ask her these questions?

"Yes, she did."

Jane sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.
"Why didn't I tell her when she was still alive?"

Van Pelt shrugged. She knew about his feelings, hell, everybody in the entire HQ knew. People were already picturing how Jane and Lisbon's wedding would be; probably small and without many people because Lisbon wouldn't want a major wedding. But this happened all behind their backs, of course. There were even bets going round about how and when the two would get together. Sure nobody knew that they would actually never get together. Van Pelt knew about these bets, but she didn't want to get too involved. She didn't want to stick her nose where it didn't belong; and her boss' life was certainly off limits.

She knew she'd failed in staying out of Jane and Lisbon's love life – of lack thereof – when Lisbon had told Van Pelt about her feelings for Jane. Not intentionally, of course, but yoga did that to you. You didn't think about what you said. And somewhere deep down, Van Pelt was happy Lisbon had told her.

"She loved you, Jane. She loved you very much. And she knew you loved her too. Both of you were afraid. And I get that completely, I would be too if somebody kills the people around me that I love. I should know, I lost my fiancée because of your nemesis. But I can help you with that: she did love you. And I'm sure she still does, wherever she is."

She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it gently.

"Don't blame yourself for what's happening right now. You can be sad, but you have to move on eventually, despite how much you resist against it. Trust me, I can know," she said, and Jane smiled faintly.

"I'm not sure I can live without her," whispered Jane. Van Pelt nodded.
"I know. But you're not alone, Jane. We're here to help you, through everything. Even if I'll have to hold your hand the rest of your life. If that helps you cope with it, that's only fair to me. We're here to help each other."

Jane nodded, and Van Pelt swallowed when she saw he was fighting tears again.

"Don't think about her dead body now, Jane. Think about her smile. She had a beautiful smile, hadn't she?" she asked, in an attempt to change the subject. Jane smiled faintly, and nodded.

"She had. And when she smiled, that beautiful dimple appeared. I loved that dimple."

"Yes! And her hair that seemed to grow more beautifully with the day."

Jane nodded, a small smile on his face.

"And she treated you like a child. It was not funny to you, but it was to us."

Jane chuckled, and Van Pelt felt tears pricking in her eyes. He chuckled, finally, even if that meant she would be crying.

He squeezed her hand.

"Thank you, Grace," he said, and closed his eyes. The small smile was still on his face, and Van Pelt watched him falling into a deep, nameless slumber. She crashed down on the chair – still holding his hand – and cried. It hurt more than it should have hurt.

The next day

"The families and friends of the other deceased passengers have in the meantime arranged a meeting, to cry and grief about their passed away loved ones-"

"Who puts this damned TV on?" cursed Rigsby as he once again turned off the TV. Probably one of the nurses. They didn't understand the pain all four of them suffered.

He turned the TV off, and turned towards the bed again. Van Pelt was sitting on the bed, her legs folded underneath her, and she was holding Jane's hand. They were happily talking about all the good times they had had with Lisbon, and with the rest of the team.

It were emotional days, for all of them, even for Cho. But they started to give Lisbon's death a place. It was difficult, but they didn't have another choice. Lisbon wouldn't just walk into the room, saying Hi, sorry I didn't call you! Now, get back to work or I'll kick your lazy asses out of here.

Though Jane was coping less great than the rest of the team. Where their tears started to dry, Jane's tears still fell freely and it didn't look like he was finding peace with it.

The grieving process went by with a lot of tears at first, but now more smiles came, which subconsciously triggered tears, but they didn't see them anymore.

They had all been given the week off. Not that if they had to go to work, they would've come. They couldn't be productive anyways.

It was unbelievable how one's death brought them so much closer. They found out things about each other that would never have been revealed. The team even found out about Jane's past. Everything about his past. About the carnie life, running away with Angela, the last show and then finding his family, his break-down – he had admitted that he'd only told Lisbon about that – and then the mixed feelings when he'd started at the CBI.

Especially Van Pelt was happy he started sharing these things. Not that she wanted to know it that badly, but she thought that knowing things about one's past did a lot to understand one's wills and thoughts.

Jane pulled Van Pelt closer again, to engage her in a tight hug, her now laying next to him on the bed. He did that a lot these days. He needed the psychical contact, even if it wasn't from the person he'd wanted it from so much. All of this had changed him, he had opened up and had allowed people to finally help him – and touch him – and he wouldn't shy away from them anymore – though 'shy' wasn't the right word to describe Patrick Jane.

Jane gently kissed her shoulder, and Van Pelt sighed.

"I'll go ask the nurse when you'll be allowed to leave," said Cho, throwing away the book he had been trying to read all day but couldn't because of the somewhat loud cheering of Jane and Van Pelt. The three nodded.

Rigsby continued with throwing the little ball he had found somewhere against the wall.

"You know, Thomas called me this morning. Said he wanted to see Jane."

Jane pulled away from Van Pelt, and sat up straight.

"Why me?"

"Uh, isn't that obvious? You were the man she was in love with. I can understand him completely."

Jane smiled.

"Well, I'm glad that he finally accepts it."

Rigsby rolled his eyes, but continued with the ball.

"Why don't you call him back, Jane?" Van Pelt asked when Jane laid back onto the bed again. Jane sighed, and shrugged.
"I can't."

"Why not-"

"News flash: I'm still here in the hospital because I can't cope with my feelings. I don't believe I will help neither him, nor Annabeth nor James and Michael if I call them now."

Van Pelt sighed, and laid down too. She turned only her head to look at Jane.

"But I do believe that you should call, Jane. Their sister just died, and you may be the only thing that reminds them of her."

Jane cringed.

"That's just-"

"True?"

"No, plain wrong."

"Nothing is wrong when you're grieving, Jane. You should know," she said, motioning to his hand where Angela's wedding ring was still shining away. Jane sighed, and lowered his head.
"Fine. I'll call Thomas."

-YulianaHenderson-

"Van Pelt?" she stated when she answered her phone.

"Darcy."

Van Pelt sighed quietly. It was a bit late, she had to admit, but she knew it would happen one day.

She didn't like the FBI at all. They thought they had all jurisdiction. Which they had, in a sense, but they didn't have to act powerful around a meaningless bureau. Because, in a way, that was what the CBI was; a poor orphan. And the FBI was the rich owner of the orphanage.

How ironic that Van Pelt used Lisbon's way of explaining things, especially now.

"I heard about Lisbon. I'm really sorry for you, Van Pelt."

Van Pelt rolled her eyes. "Thank you."

"How's Jane doing?" Does she really care?

"Fine, considering the circumstances." She leaves the fact that he almost killed himself out of everything. The FBI looks for every opportunity to take over the Red John case and take all the credit for all the work the CBI had done. And the FBI wouldn't shy away from completely denying that the CBI had ever worked on it. Everybody believed the FBI.

"Good. Look, we respect the fact that you don't come into work, but you know that we still have one of Red John's apprentices in custody. Do you want to do anything with her or not?"

Van Pelt sighed. Cho looked at her, and she mouthed Darcy, which caused the man to faintly roll his eyes. It was difficult to spot, but Van Pelt knew where to look.

He reached out his hand and took the phone from her.

"Cho."

"Darcy."

It was silent for a moment – Cho and Agent Darcy had, in essense, the same personality, so it was not surprising that it crashed sometimes. And especially now. Now that Cho was the new team-leader – even if he didn't want it – he and Darcy were even more alike.

"I can't stop you if you want the Red John case," Cho suddenly said. He heard the distinctive sound of somebody who was quite impressed at the other end of the phone.

"I know you can't. But you also know that I don't need your permission if I took it."

"I know."

Darcy sighed. "I am going to take the Red John case from you, but I want to talk to Jane first, if that's possible."

Cho stood and passed the phone to Jane, who had only just woken up.

"Patrick Jane."

"Darcy," the agent said, and Jane could hear she was getting tired of stating her name so many times.

"Ah, Susan. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"No funny stuff, Patrick. I want to talk to you about the Red John case."

Normally, Jane would sit up straight at even the mention of the bastard, but he found he didn't really care. Not now, anyways.

"What about it?"

"We're taking over. We get Lorelei and we'll do the interrogations-"

"Okay."

Darcy was silent for a few seconds. "Okay?"

"Yes, okay. Make sure you catch the bastard and bring him to justice for me, okay? Make sure you make him pay for Angela and Charlotte."

Jane heard Darcy hesitate for few more seconds, and he couldn't contain his small smile. The fact that everybody thought Jane would genuinely die when he lost the Red John-case was heart warming to him. Really, he was more busy with grieving Lisbon's death than anything else. He couldn't believe himself either at first, but it was what was true, and what was right for him; Red John was history. For now. Maybe forever, but he wasn't sure about that yet. But for now, Red John doesn't deserve it anymore.

Besides, the FBI hasn't lost an agent, so they can continue where the CBI left off. It was for the best.

"Did she really mean so much to you?" Darcy asked, and Jane sighed.

"She did. More than you may ever know."

He heard Darcy sighing. "I will keep you posted-"

"That's not necessary. Don't feel pressured. I will see it in the news if you got him."

"Are you sure you're fine-"

"I just gave you the Red John case without complaining, Susan. I would run away before I changed my mind."

"Patrick, I-"

"I don't want to hear a thing about it. I thought about this for a long time, and this is my decision. You can have him. He's all yours."

Darcy sighed. "I don't understand."

"You think I do? I have no idea what I'm feeling. One day, Red John is everything in my life, and now Lisbon is. I'm genuinely dead on the inside, even more than I have ever been before."

"I understand, Patrick. I... You have to know I didn't expect you to accept so easily. But I will definitely catch him for you. And for Agent Lisbon."

"Thank you, Susan. I appreciate that," Jane said. They said their goodbyes and hung up. The team looked at Jane almost expectantly.

"The FBI gets the Red John case. And Lorelei."

The team sighed silently, but Jane shook his head.
"No really, it's okay. I never thought that I would be the one that cared the less about the case."

"But Jane, we worked so hard for it-"

"And now the FBI continues where we left off. I thought you were a cop, Grace? You should never endanger yourself. You're not focused and that could get you all killed."

The team huffed. Jane sounded too much like Lisbon.

-YulianaHenderson-

"Thanks for dropping by, guys," Van Pelt said to the equally brown-haired men in Jane's hospital room. They all smiled faintly at her.

This was way too awkward, and everybody sensed it. Rigsby and Cho had already left the hospital to escape the major awkwardness of this situation, but Van Pelt had promised Jane to stay.

The Lisbons were sitting in different chairs, just staring somehow at Jane. This was the man that personified their sister's fantasies. She had never told the team, but apparently she had told her brothers when she was in New York. Maybe she felt her death coming? Who knew?

Thomas had been less awkward the first time he'd met Jane. And Jane would normally know immediately why, but now, he didn't care actually. Though he did notice the slight change in the single father's attitude towards him.

"Did you tell her?" James, the eldest, suddenly asked. Everybody turned towards him, shocked that he was so straight-forward.

Jane just looked at his lap, obviously ashamed, and shook his head.

"I should have told her. I promised to protect her-"

"But you tried-"

"And I failed. I failed. I... failed. And now she's dead."

Though everybody knew Lisbon's death wasn't Jane's fault, they didn't exactly have enough motivation to tell him otherwise. Besides, Jane could be out of character now, he still was hell set on getting what he wanted, which was the confirmation that he was in fact guilty for Lisbon's death. Indirectly, of course.

The three Lisbons looked at each other, at a loss for words, momentarily.

Jane saw.

"Top drawer of my desk," he said, and they all frowned. Then, Van Pelt realized what he meant and nodded, grabbing her phone to call the boys.

"What about it?" Thomas asked.

"You'll see when my colleagues get back."

The three pinched the bridge of their noses, before looking at Jane, and rolling their eyes.

"I have absolutely no idea what Teresa saw in you," Michael deadpanned, and the other two nodded, agreeing.

Jane just smiled faintly. Honestly, he didn't know what she saw in him either. He was a worthless piece of shit, he couldn't give her anything but trouble, but still she trusted him, and worked with him and showed him her love even if she didn't realize it. Van Pelt cared about Jane too, but she didn't act half as caring as Lisbon did. Which ultimately proved to Jane that what he didn't want to happen, happened. She had fallen for him, and he for her. The gate to his lonely heart had been locked, but she had opened it and that was not what he'd wanted.

But it happened. So he could do nothing else than focus on the feelings that Lisbon triggered inside him – even if she wasn't here to witness them.

Within minutes, Rigsby stood in the hospital room again, something in his hand but they couldn't exactly make out what it was. He gave it to Jane, who nodded, a slight smile on his face.

"Watch and learn, my friends," he said, and opened the what seemed like a with velvet covered box. They had suspicions what was in it, but they didn't dare hope.

He opened it, and passed it to the nearest person in the room, which was James. He looked inside, and his eyes widened faintly, before looking at Jane, one eyebrow already raised. Thomas grabbed the box out of James' hands, and then mimicked James' expression.

"A ring?" Thomas asked, incredulously. Jane smiled.

"Yes, dear Thomas, a ring."

"How long did you have it?" Van Pelt asked, without looking at the ring. She knew it would be far too expensive, and that if Jane would ever pop the question, Lisbon would definitely get rid of the ring. Lisbon wouldn't doubt though when answering it, and she would really say yes, despite how much she told the rest how she hated Jane.

It was quite sad that Jane had never actually popped the question. Van Pelt wasn't sure if she was the only one who knew, but she knew that Jane had wanted to ask it for a long time now. But it was just something that couldn't, or shouldn't, happen. Even if Jane would want it with all his heart. It just couldn't.

Jane shrugged.
"Don't know anymore. A long time, that's what I know. I think, but I'm not sure, that it was after that bomb that was strapped to her body."

The brothers' eyes widened.

"What bomb?" Michael asked, his voice a bit panicked, but Jane waved it away.

"It was nothing, she survived. It took a little swearing from her side to make sure I survived too, but we both did," Jane said, and looked at his lap again when the words he had just spoken sank in a but. "She survived..."

"But I'm glad that she had someone like you to watch after her."

Jane forced a smile on his face, and Van Pelt noticed. She gently moved the three out of Jane's room, offering to get dinner together, while she left Jane alone with his disturbing thoughts.

A/N: I know that this chapter is really bad, but there is a reason that the genres of this story are Hurt/Comfort; in every hurt, there is comfort. This is comfort, isn't it? I do think it is.

And I don't really think that Jane has bought Lisbon a ring, but I thought it was cute for this story :D.

Let me know what you think in a REVIEW, thank you!

OH! And next chapter will have Lisbon! *yay* Excited? Let me know! :D (She's more transparent than ever... That's what I can say about it :D)