It has been one week since Red John was killed. Jane isn't the one to do it; Lisbon is the one who ultimately pulls the trigger. Two clean shots to the chest, and the life leaves Red John's eyes. That night, Jane hugs Lisbon, tightly, and whispers that he needs to go away to Malibu for a little while. She doesn't like it, doesn't want him to be alone, but she understands. She makes him promise to keep in touch, and to call if he needs her. He gives her a weak smile and leaves without another word.
Jane keeps his promise, texting her at least once a day. He usually writes the same messages. I hope things are going well. I'm doing okay. I'm not mad at you. He always gets a response within minutes. Thank you for letting me know. I hope you find peace. I miss you. He refuses to phone her, though. He's not sure he is ready to hear her voice, and she respects his need for space by not attempting to call him.
For the first three nights that Jane spends in Malibu, he sleeps underneath the lonely smiley face. He's still tormented by nightmares, but he's slowly accepting that Red John is dead, that Red John can't hurt him any more. He's safe. More importantly, Lisbon is safe.
On the fourth day, he buys two cans of periwinkle blue paint, and with shaking hands he paints over the blood on the wall. Slowly, blue begins to cover the red. The two colours are at opposite ends of the spectrum, as far away as they can be. That's exactly what he wants for this room. Besides, the new colour reminds him of his wife laughing in the garden, and he thinks it's perfect for the room that they shared together – a fitting replacement for the crimson reminder of her death. Though necessary, the process of re-painting exhausts him both emotionally and physically, and he falls asleep underneath the periwinkle walls immediately.
On the fifth day, Jane finally enters his daughter's bedroom. It is the only room in the house that remains untouched, appearing exactly as it did eleven years ago. He couldn't bear cleaning it out in the months after her death, but he figures that now it is time.
Going through his daughter's things takes longer than Jane had expected; by the seventh day, he doesn't want to do it any more. He's nearly finished, but he needs a break. Wanting the happy memories back, Jane decides to go out on the yacht, something he has rarely done since his family died. It feels wrong going on the boat alone, so he sends a quick text to Lisbon. Can you come to Malibu? In less than a minute, his phone vibrates, signaling a response. I'm on my way. Jane smiles to himself. The door is open, he replies. He doesn't know that his messages have sent Lisbon into near-panic mode; she is terrified that he is in trouble and worried about his mental state.
Jane sits in Charlotte's room to wait, but his exhaustion catches up with him, and he falls asleep on her small bed, clutching her favourite toy – a small light brown bear named Sammy.
This is how Lisbon finds him, seven hours later. At first, she worries that he might be hurt, or worse, but when she takes a closer look, she realizes that he is breathing steadily. Oh, Jane, she thinks sadly. It's a heartbreaking sight – a grown man in a rumpled three-piece suit, curled up on a child-sized Barbie comforter and clutching a teddy bear. Lisbon nervously sits on the edge of the bed and runs her hand gently along his arm.
Slowly, Jane's eyes open. Everything is blurry at first, but soon his eyes focus on Lisbon, and he grins sleepily. "Thank you for coming," he mumbles.
"Are you okay?" Lisbon is in full-on protective mode, devoting her complete attention to making sure Jane is all right.
"Yes," he answers, sounding a bit more awake. "I just needed a friend."
Lisbon's face brightens, satisfied that he is not in any kind of trouble. "I'm glad you asked me to come," she says earnestly.
"Would you take a boat ride with me?" Jane asks shyly, remembering why he texted her in the first place.
"A boat ride? Sure." Lisbon is confused, but she is so grateful that he asked her to come that she is willing to go along with whatever he needs.
Jane smiles again, relieved. He takes her by the hand and leads her outside, and a little ways down the beach to where his yacht is docked. Lisbon notices the name painted in bright red along a strip of white on the side of the boat. "Beth?"
"My mom's name."
Lisbon files that information away for future reference. "You never told me that you own a boat," she comments casually, as Jane guides them away from the dock and into the vast ocean.
"Oh, yeah. We used to go out a lot. Whenever I want to remember the good times, this is where I come." Jane keeps his voice light, but Lisbon understands how important this must be, for him to open up to her.
"And you wanted to come down here today?" She asks, with a clear note of hope in her voice.
"I really am trying to move on, Lisbon. It's hard, figuring out how to keep the good memories and let the bad ones go. I've kind of been immersed in the bad, and I need something to hold on to." As he speaks, a shadow crosses over his face, and Lisbon reaches out to touch him.
"Give yourself time. It's a lot of changes all at once. This is good for you, though. Focusing on the positive memories, for a change," Lisbon says softly, giving him a sympathetic smile.
"I really appreciate you coming," Jane says, and he pulls Lisbon into a fierce hug. He wants to feel her presence, to know that he isn't alone.
The sun is setting over the horizon, illuminating brilliant reds, oranges and blues across the sky and the water. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jane murmurs, pulling away from Lisbon to allow her to look out over the edge of the boat.
"Yeah, it is," she answers softly. "The ocean over there is exactly the same colour as your eyes," she adds, almost without thinking. The similarity is striking; even the gentle waves remind her of the flecks in his irises.
Jane chuckles softly as Lisbon blushes. "Angela used to say that too. Something about the angle of the light at sunset."
Lisbon goes still, unsure whether or not bringing up this memory is painful or helpful.
"Don't worry. This is about focusing on the good, remember?" It's harder than it sounds, but Jane forces out a brave grin, determined to try.
"It is," Lisbon says, returning his smile. "But don't push yourself too hard too fast. It doesn't happen overnight."
"It's been eleven years. I don't think anyone would categorize that as 'too fast,'" Jane says wryly.
"You haven't spent the last eleven years really dealing with it. It's been a week since Red John died. I'm glad you're moving forward. I really am. I just don't want you to push yourself too hard and have it all blow up in your face," Lisbon says wisely.
"Yeah, well…" Jane shrugs. "It's always worked before." Angela and Charlotte aren't the first people he lost. Jane has been familiar with grief from a very young age. Although, dealing with the deaths of his wife and daughter has always been different, has always been harder. He initially attributed it to his own role in their violent deaths, but now he is less sure.
Lisbon eyes him, frowning slightly. "You know, for a little while after my mom died, my dad was fine. He forced himself to be. He really did try, but after about three months, he couldn't take it any more. There wasn't anything that prompted it. I think he spent so much energy trying to be something he wasn't that he forgot who he really was, and he didn't have the energy left to properly grieve. Everything fell apart, and he never recovered."
"That's cheery," Jane mutters sarcastically, before becoming solemn again. Lisbon has a point; he had tried to force himself to be unaffected by his family's murders, and it hadn't worked out so well. "I really don't know how to do this," he confesses.
"I'll help you. As long as you're not doing it alone, you'll be okay," Lisbon assures him with a smile.
"Thanks," he whispers. "You know, Angela would have really liked you."
Lisbon understands that, for Jane, this is the highest compliment he can offer. "I'm glad," she smiles shyly. By this time, the sun has set, and the first stars are beginning to come out. The two of them stand side-by-side, watching. Lisbon grins as Jane begins pointing out objects in the sky. He identifies Orion, the Seven Sisters, the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia, as well as Venus and Mars. Not for the first time, she marvels at the breadth of his knowledge.
Soon, the sky is dark enough for thousands of stars to be visible, and the two of them fall silent, overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all.
"Maybe we should get back," Jane mutters, breaking the spell.
"Okay," Lisbon agrees somewhat warily. "You all right?"
"No," Jane answers honestly. "I will be, though. Will you stay tonight?"
"Of course," Lisbon answers quickly; she doesn't even need to think about it. "At the house? Or do you want to get a motel room somewhere?"
"I…I don't know. What do you think?" Jane looks at her anxiously. It's rare to see him so unsure.
"What do you feel like doing? There's no right or wrong answer, Jane."
"Well…I feel like it's not healthy to keep living in that house. But I don't feel ready to leave," Jane sighs, frustrated. He isn't sure he wants to go back to a house filled with painful memories, especially after spending a rather pleasant evening on his yacht, but it's hard for him to shake the feeling that he deserves to suffer. "Sometimes you need to force yourself to stop doing things that aren't good for you. I don't know if this is one of those times."
"You were sleeping pretty peacefully when I arrived," Lisbon comments. "Is that how it's been lately?"
"I still have nightmares. But they're getting less frequent," Jane answers slowly. He realizes that staying in the house, going through the process of cleaning it up, is helping tremendously; he really has been sleeping better, and it's getting easier to bury the bad memories. He could pretend to be fine, and go to a motel, or he could acknowledge that he's not fine and try to work on getting better. "Do you mind staying here?"
Lisbon smiles warmly. "Not at all."
Jane effortlessly guides the boat back into the dock, and leads Lisbon back into his house.
"I…err…well, I have a mattress, and Charlotte's bed," Jane says uncomfortably. "Is it okay if you take the mattress? I'll move it into Charlotte's room…"
"Sure. That sounds fine," Lisbon answers. She knows why he is moving the mattress, and is grateful for it.
Once they are settled, Jane rolls over so he is facing her. "You know, whenever I'm having trouble sleeping, I try to pretend I'm on that boat out on the ocean. It relaxes me."
"Good," Lisbon murmurs. "You deserve some peace. Good night, Jane."
For the first time, Jane actually believes her. Smiling to himself, he whispers, "Night, Lisbon." He then closes his eyes and pictures himself staring out into the vast ocean at sunset. He watches the imaginary waves drift by, and they gently lull him into the most restful sleep he's had in years.