I would like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed. It really means a lot to get those email notifications and it shows me that people are enjoying this. For this weekend I'm in the Northeast dealing with a few unpleasant things, and since I spent most of the afternoon in an airport/airplane, about 90% of this was written in such places. Some bits might be a little bit iffy, I blame the quick increase in elevation having an impact on my poor melted brain. High school nowadays does that to you.

Disclaimer: I don't own, nor will I ever, The Mentalist.

Chapter Three: My Eyes Are Open

She slips the dark purple shirt over her head and brings it down over the swell of her belly. Smoothing it down, she turns and looks at her reflection in the long mirror sitting a few feet from her bed. Time has gone by so fast, now six months pregnant her belly has quickly grown to accommodate the size of her unborn child. Softly smiling, she rests a hand on the side of the swell to lightly press down. Seconds after she felt a slight fluttering sensation beneath her fingertips, she smiles and closes her eyes for a moment before opening them again to glance at herself in the mirror. She knew Jane would ask questions when she would walk in today. This will be the first time she has seen him since he admitted to the judge that he was in fact guilty of murder. Her team had gone to see him at least once a week, mostly Grace and Rigsby did this, but occasionally she would hear that Cho had gone to see him.

It is hard for Cho to see him, that is how much she knows. Cho knew that Jane was the father of her unborn child and it affected her the most, and therefore the man visits Jane as little as possible to mostly appease Grace. It's touching to know that her two younger agents still thought of Jane as part of the team, but she refuses any contact with him since he had gone to prison. But today is a different day. Three days ago Grace had come to her office and asked her to see him. At first she had flat out refused it, but her rookie agent would not take 'no' for an answer. Grace had explained that Jane wanted to see her the most, and that he was not getting much sleep because he did not know if she was doing all right.

Sighing to herself, she turns away from the mirror and heads out through her bedroom door. Venturing down the hall and staircase, she picks up her car keys and moves through the front door. It would be a thirty minute drive to the prison if she took the highway, so she decides that it would be best to stop off at the 7-Eleven for a bottled water before she gets too close.

Jane splashes some cold water on his face. The bone-chilling water ensures that he will remain awake and alert throughout the day, despite hating daytime the worst. He would think that he would hate nighttime more than the day, but it was the exact opposite. The night brought back fond memories that would often bring tears to his eyes as he lay on his uncomfortable cot with a scratchy grey blanket. Night was the only time everyone would leave him alone, and he could metaphorically escape the boundaries these prison walls had set up for him only temporarily.

"Hey Jane, can you move?" he looks over to his left and sees his roommate, Jon Norman.

Norman is a rather short man with a bald spot on the back of his head. He wears thick-framed glasses that cover up his little hazel eyes. Overall, Norman isn't the most attractive man out there, but he was rather interesting and far from evil. He was in this prison because he accidentally killed a man while drunk. He had already had a few previous DUI's, so this definitely caused him to go into the jail.

"Uh, yes," Jane nods and steps aside, allowing his 'buddy' to take his place by the sink.

His eyes flicker to the end of the wall, where Norman has placed a few pictures over the last couple of months. He has a wife, Susan, and two children, Chris and Casey. Sometimes twice a week his family would come to visit him, and Norman always looks forward to these visits. He speaks fondly of his family and sometimes grew upset after they would leave their visits. One of the reasons they got along so well was because, like him, Jane sometimes spoke of Lisbon. He would tell Norman about her and often describe her, his 'buddy' would often tell him that she sounded extraordinary, and he was so correct.

When Norman finished with the sink, he turns to Jane, "Do you think she'll ever visit you?"

Jane blinked, "Who? Teresa?" the balding man nodded, "I don't know Norman," he sits down on his cot – he liked the bottom one – and twiddles his thumbs, "She was upset after the trial. She never told me that she was, but I could tell that I hurt her."

"You did it to save her life, right?"

Nodding, Jane looks up, "Yes," he whispered, "And to settle things. You know from some of my stories of what Red John did to my wife and child. That bastard had to e stopped, and I was the only one able to," pausing and taking a breath, he continued, "And the cost was prison."

Norman was about to say something, but there was a tapping sound on one of the bars. It was a guard with his key ring in hand. The very same one that tends to come around whenever a visitor is present for either him or Norman. Since Norman's family came two days ago, he figures it was mostly for Norman.

"Mr. Jane, you have a visitor."

Jane furrows his brow and gives the guard a look of astonishment. His somewhat weekly visitors had already come and gone, surely this is a mistake. The only reason why anyone will really come to see him is if something bad happened, especially if it were Lisbon. Dread begins to fill up and he stands to his feet. Clenching his hands into fists at his side, he eyes the guard and nods firmly. He walks closer to the metal barred doors and stands there until the guard opens it. Sticking out his hands for the handcuffs, he barely moves until they are securely around his wrists and taken by the forearm. He kept his face forward to mask any uncertainty and worry.

He walks into the room where he usually visits Grace and Rigsby. Whenever he was here, it was full of fellow inmates with their loved ones or family members, but right now it is void of all people. The quietness of the room made a chill run up his spine as the guard pushes him to sit down on an unmovable stool. Pausing, he looks up at the guard with a questioning gaze. This man kind of reminds him of Cho. Stoic. Definitely loyal.

"Uh, why am I here?"

"You have a visitor, they should be coming in any moment."

Jane nods and shifts to look forward again. He felt tense, and the anticipation of who was coming was almost killing him. Feeling his heart beat more rapidly in his chest, he began to drum his fingers on the metal table, probably annoying the guard and just not caring. He looks back up at the guard. A slight wave of satisfaction rolls over him when he sees the guard's brow tense at the overly annoying sound of his fingers repeatedly hitting the metal surface.

He stops when he hears a buzzing sound following a door opening. Jane looks up, his eyes wide and wondering if his visitor is finally going to come through the doors. Despite his seemingly cool exterior, he feels some sweat build of at his temples. He shuts his eyes and breathes in through his mouth then out of his nose before he opens his eyes back up. A woman was slowly moving towards him.

Lisbon!

He tries to stand up, but the guard clasps a hand roughly on his shoulder and slams him back down onto the stool, "Stay down!"

Jane tries to protest, but stops when he hears her firm voice, "He's fine," he turns back to look at her, but is surprised at what he sees.

His eyes widen when his gaze catches her swollen belly. Immediately he stiffens and his heart starts to beat frantically in his chest once more as numerous ideas run through his head. He had expected something bad, and this was far from bad in his eyes. It gave him a small sense of hope that she was carrying his child in her womb. She looks down and brings her hands to rest on the swell of her pregnant belly and walks forward and sits down at the table. He watches her in wonder as she lightly caresses her belly, sadness mixed with a look of adoration is definitely present in her gentle features.

"I asked the team to keep this from you," she speaks softly, "Until Grace asked me to come see you a couple of days ago." He watches her close her eyes and permit a few stray tears to fall down her cheeks. Right now he wants nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms, kiss her forehead, and come in contact with their unborn child in the most possible way.

"Why? Why would you keep my own child from me?" he barely manages to say out loud.

Her eyes open and she locks her gaze onto him, "Because I don't want it to know that its father has committed a crime!" she stands up on her feet, "I don't want to remember what you look like just in case my baby will look too much like you! I don't want any reminders!" Tears fell freely from her eyes as she moves to sit back down, feeling weak instantly.

"I just want you out of my life."

He turns his head to the side and sets his jaw. Jane turns back to her as he feels hurt and slight rage bubble up inside of his body, "Teresa, I did this to protect you!"

"Don't you dare give me that crap again! You killed Red John for your own personal revenge without any second thought about the people around you!" her voice stays low as she refuses to make eye contact with him.

"I loved you," she pauses, catching her breath, "And you knew it."

He lurches upwards, moving out of the guard's reaches, "I did this to protect you! If I hadn't killed him you'd be dead!" he feels the guard try to grasp onto his shoulders once more, but he continues to shrug out of reach, "If you would have died, you wouldn't be here right now. Our child wouldn't be growing inside of you!"

The guard grasps onto his arms and forces him face down onto the table. Lisbon stands and moves backwards, her hands touching her belly as she tries to look away from him. Jane tries to wrestle free of the guard, but cannot get free, "Listen to me!" he screams feeling the guard pull him off of the table and pull him away from her, "I am not lying to you!"

Tears fall equally from their eyes as he thrashes in the guards hold. She watches him, and beneath her palm feels the baby kick.

"Teresa, I did this to protect—," she turns around quickly and moves towards him. Her gaze does not waver from his and she doesn't bother to hide the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Don't!" she grabs the front of his shirt, "Just don't Jane!" her breathing hitches and she barely loosens her grip on the front of his shirt, "You have the right to remain silent," her voice gets caught in her throat as she allows a tear to roll down her cheek, "Anything you say…"

His hand covers hers and she stops. Looking down at her, he sees the tears glittering in her eyes. Her expression is broken and exhausted, she appears so small and vulnerable before him in this state. It breaks his heart to see her like this, but if he did not kill Red John first, then she would have become his next victim. When Red John had given him that note underneath the door to his apartment a week before this day, he knew he would need to act fast. It was either seeing her alive and broken or gone from the world forever. He would not be able to cope knowing she was dead. It was in his own selfish interests to keep her alive.

Or was it love.

"I loved you."

She still loves him.