She remained seated on the edge of his bed for quite a while longer, keeping up her gentle caress, tracing his jawline. Even in sleep he pressed his cheek into her hand and she smiled indulgently and very, very happily.

Though he'd obviously forgotten that they'd already had the same conversation almost word for word, she wasn't overly worried anymore. Of course those first minutes after Red John's fall before he lost consciousness due to blood loss and pain would be garbled in his mind. But he'd remembered enough so she could be confident there wasn't any brain damage caused by his collapses.

Her eyes lingered fondly on his beloved face. She couldn't put into words how much it warmed her heart that during both of those nearly identical talks his first question had been about Paul's well-being, not about Red John's fate. This made his whole heroic deed that much more genuine in her eyes.

Patrick had really and truly readjusted his priorities. His sudden attack on Joseph Earl had not been a futile last minute attempt to satisfy his need for revenge. No, his sole purpose had been to save the life of his newfound cousin.

Knowing that he usually wasn't exactly the boldest person in a room filled with armed people his feat had been even more courageous. And though she'd first been kind of angry with him because he'd risked his life like that and worried her so much, now in hindsight and with the certainty that he would be alright, she couldn't stop herself from feeling intense pride. Even if the media attention was a nuisance, in this case she had to agree: Patrick Jane was a hero.

She had known after all how immensely insecure he'd been during the last days, how terribly afraid he had been of being unable to help and save his loved ones, how paralyzed with fear at the thought of somehow causing someone's death one way or another - because he considered himself to be a wuss on a good day and something like a bad luck charm on a bad one.

Teresa hadn't doubted him like that, but his action had still surprised her. Normally in a room full of guns and with a serial killer holding a knife he'd automatically shift into self-preservation-mode. Not this time. He'd not spent a second thinking about himself. He'd just had one goal: stop Red John from killing the boy.

It had been a completely selfless act and one obviously so unexpected to everyone, Joseph Earl included, it had given them the element of surprise for the moment necessary to finally get the upper hand. That Patrick hadn't exactly planned it that way wasn't important. He'd done what no one else in the seeming stalemate situation they'd found themselves in had dared or been in a position to do.

If not for his gutsy action, Teresa was pretty sure they wouldn't have been able to save Paul's life and they might've lost others as well before a chance occurred to take down Red John. So, yes: she was unbelievably proud of her lover, though she would have a serious conversation with him about risking his life and worrying her like that at some point in the not so distant future. But for the time being she was just so, so glad she still had that stupid, lovely, courageous, beautiful, irritating, charming bastard in her life.

There was a lot to be grateful for, she thought. Red John was finally gone and practically no one on their side had died. She was so much in love, like never before in her live, and her feelings were completely reciprocated. Patrick was free from the monster that had haunted him for the past decade. She had no illusions that the psychological damage would heal over night and that his past wouldn't still cause him pain on occasion, but essentially he was free from most of the demons that had hurt him for so long. Furthermore he'd gained family and would be able to form a closer bond with them over time. And he wasn't in jail for killing his nemesis either. He was injured, but he would heal and then they could be together without the looming presence of a serial killer out to get her and torture him.

With one hand still attached to his cheek she grabbed the cross pendant she wore around her neck with the other, closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to her God.


)J(I)S(B)O(N)4(E)V(E)R(

Patrick Jane's recovery had not turned out to be an easy one – neither for him nor for his loved ones or the medical staff dealing with him. A few days into his recovery he'd been put on some antibiotics and had promptly gone into shock due to an allergic reaction. He'd suffered a seizure which had caused some damage to his injury and he had to undergo another surgery.

This had weakened him even more and thrown him back in his healing. Unfortunately – at least that's how most of the people around him saw it after a while – his physical weakness didn't affect his ability to complain. This held true even for the times he had actual visitors, but increased exponentially during none visiting hours. According to the doctors he needed time to rest and recuperate in peace – he of course didn't agree. So he was bored all the time with no chance to stretch his legs and do anything other than watch TV, read, and solve Sudoku-puzzles at such amazing speed the nurses were awed (and annoyed because he kept asking for more). That he also still had quite a few problems with insomnia and nightmares just added to the overall stress on everyone. And his only other distraction was to whine and grouch and all around terrorize the medical personnel.

With him being obnoxious almost all the time there was at least little chance anyone on staff could possibly succumb to any kind of hero worshipping and he made sure to nip it in the bud when he sensed even the slightest hint of it in a nurse or a doctor. A few particularly acerbic comments and some unflattering observations from him usually did the trick immediately.


Patrick hadn't been willing to speak much about the events connected with Red John's demise. Teresa was practically the only one he shared his thoughts and feelings with and he confessed that he hated all that talk about his so called heroic deed. He'd just acted mostly on instinct and without much thought because he couldn't have borne the guilt of being responsible for yet another child's death. Hence his actions hadn't been selfless and courageous but rather selfish and desperate and by the way, he'd added, first and foremost he'd wanted it all to end at long last. Besides, he'd been filled with so much fear it had taken all of his will power to even move. Thus to him it hadn't felt like anything even remotely brave and all the accolades filled him with a deep sense of shame because he knew he didn't really deserve them.

She'd shaken her head and told him that he obviously didn't understand the concept of heroism at all judged by what he had just confessed to her. Real courage, she'd explained, didn't consist of fearless actions by a superhero. Someone who was fully in charge of a situation and possessed all the means to solve the difficulties he was confronted with couldn't very well be deemed heroic or very courageous. It was in cases like the one they'd faced that true bravery showed itself. She'd concluded her gentle reprimand with telling him that whether he liked it or not he was a true-blue hero and she was very, very proud of him and wished he could feel a bit of pride in himself as well because he fully deserved it.

He'd promised to think on it but still refused to be treated like some celebrity by anyone. Apart from several interviews he'd had to endure by members of the team responsible for the final investigation into the case and the operation that led to Red John's fall he hadn't been willing to speak with anyone about it again.

He made one little exception for Paul's and Mary's sake, because he sensed their need to talk things through with him. He even accepted their admiration and gratitude to a certain degree, but made sure they understood that all he was and would ever be was their cousin – not some superhero they should be awed by.


Due to the setback caused by the allergic reaction it took more than three weeks until he could be transferred to a hospital in Sacramento for the rest of his recovery. Teresa stayed with him in LA for most of the time, but she had to go back to work a few days before he could follow her northwards. When his grandparents got wind of this they came to stay with him for the rest of the time.

They'd already visited several times in the beginning and had been there for the entirety of the first week as well. Even Emma and Matt had made arrangements to stay as long as possible though they had their jobs and the children needed to go back to school. But when everybody noticed that apart from Lisbon Patrick enjoyed the company of his two cousins the most (and vice versa), no one had had the heart to separate them too early. Jonathan offered the perfect excuse pointing out that from his professional point of view being with and talking to Patrick would help Mary and Paul to deal with the trauma of their abduction and the teenagers' close shave with death. So for the first week there'd been many visitors.

Now the two oldest Janes had come back to LA in order that their grandchild would still have some much needed company in Teresa's forced absence. During that week Elisa often left Patrick alone with his grandfather so the two could use the time to get closer, as she had sensed some residual fear in her grandson when it came to her husband. And her plan worked out better than she'd hoped. Slowly but surely their newfound relative opened up to his grandfather, who – with Patrick's permission – shared quite a bit about their talks with her.

More and more their conversations seemed to turn into outright counseling sessions and the retired psychiatrist managed to help Patrick deal with much of his pain, guilt, and lingering insecurities. The old Jane couple spent many a night in their hotel room shedding tears together over their grandson's numerous traumas, comforting each other with the promise to try and make it up to him.

When they'd been in Red John's hands and especially during the phone call Jonathan had been forced to make to Patrick, they'd realized how much they'd already come to care for their oldest son's son. Also Patrick had called Jonathan 'grandpa' for the first time back then and had expressed his affection openly in his state of fear for them, showing them how important they'd become to him as well. That he'd risked his life to save Paul's had only added to their love for him.

The first times they'd visited him at the hospital he'd reverted back to calling them by their given names, but during their second week staying with him the 'grannies' and 'grandpas' had increased more an more to their delight until the familial form of address had become the norm.


It was also during that week that Elisa and Jonathan finally told Patrick more about their relationship with his father. He learned that it had been an unwanted pregnancy occurring at a time in his grandparents' lives when they'd been very occupied with their education and careers. They'd been quite young, only 21. Jonathan had still been at the university and Elisa had just gotten her first real engagement at a renowned orchestra and the last thing they'd needed at that point was a baby.

Fortunately they'd at least been moneyed as they both came from families with financial backing. So they'd been able to provide for little Alexander without problems and had hired a nanny to take care of him right from the start. That way they'd had the chance to continue almost as if there wasn't a child around.

But this in turn had led to a very bad conscience, because they knew of course that they had a son and weren't the best parents to him. So they overcompensated by spoiling him whenever they took the time to be with him. He got whatever he wished for and more and they never used the word no.

That the nanny wasn't a very stable person and couldn't offer Alex the feeling of safety and honest affection that was missing in his young life due to his parents' absence didn't occur to them until she was arrested one day – of all things for neglecting and abusing her own child. Alex had been almost three at the time.

They had tried to salvage the situation after that and Jonathan who'd just gotten his university degree took some time off to take care of their son. Even though he was educated as a psychiatrist he'd not had any practical experience and hadn't managed to use his knowledge at home. He'd not dealt with the bad conscience well. Instead of being loving but firm and giving the insecure boy a sense of stability, he'd probably made things worse showering Alex with gifts and sweets and extreme lenience. And his inability to truly connect with his son had led to them finding first one other nanny, then, when she quit after only a few months, telling them she couldn't deal with such a difficult brat, many nannies had followed in a row, not one of them staying longer than six months.

That something was seriously wrong with their son they'd first fully realized when he'd started pre-school aged five. The teachers complained constantly and spoke about a child unable to form friendships with his peers, but enjoyed causing them pain instead – mostly mental, but also physical. He didn't accept any rules, disrupted class and didn't listen to the teachers at all.

On the other hand he showed obvious signs of being especially gifted and was way ahead of his peer group when it came to skills like reading, writing, and math. So at first his difficulties were mainly seen as a side effect of him being a high-flyer. Proud of his achievements his parents had actually rewarded him for his behavior, and when the problems at school increased even though he was allowed to skip several grade levels, he was sent to a school for the gifted.

But the problems didn't cease to exist just because he was finally at least satisfied intellectually. On the contrary, with his growing knowledge the magnitude of his cruelties increased as well. He made no friends in his new school either and thrived in his role as the creepy outsider and bully.

Things came to a head when Matthew was born. Alex was nine at that point and he didn't take kindly to having a rival at home, one who actually got what he'd been missing growing up: love and affection and his parents' time and attention. He loathed his little brother and Jonathan and Elisa actually feared for the safety of their baby.

They tried to get Alex professional help. With Jonathan being a still young but already rather successful therapist he had the best inside information to find a suitable colleague to counsel his son. But it didn't go well. It was first years later they realized that Alex manipulated the poor doctor and managed to avoid dealing with his problems. Furthermore, Jonathan and Elisa had a hard time accepting their own mistakes and tried to maintain the illusion of being the perfect parents instead of owning up to the neglect their firstborn had suffered at their hands.

By the time Alex had reached his puberty they'd lost all control of him. He did essentially whatever he wanted. For the most part that didn't contain going to school, let alone follow any rules. He spent his days either reading books about magic and methods of mind-control or down at the mall people watching. He got eerily good at reading his parents and other adults and used his abilities to manipulate them into doing his bidding.

When they'd found out that he'd dropped completely out of school aged fifteen they'd tried to put their foot down once more, but he didn't give a damn about their attempts to reign him in and help him find his way back onto conventional ground. He tormented them and his brother to a degree that made them actually afraid of their own child. And Alex relished that feeling of power over his family. He stole from them, conned them, played dirty tricks that induced bodily harm, going as far as rigging the brakes in Jonathan's car at one time causing his father to drive into a wall. Fortunately he didn't sustain too much damage.

Still, at that point they realized how totally out of control their oldest was and in their desperation they found no other solution than to send him to an institution for difficult juveniles when he was seventeen. He lasted about a week there before he bunked. He went missing for several weeks and popped up again at his parents' a few days before his 18th birthday. They were so happy to see him unharmed and well that they didn't notice that he'd only come back for his remaining stuff and to grift as much money out of them as possible for his ultimate getaway from them. He'd left with all the valuables they'd kept at home five days after filling 18, never to be seen or heard of again until a few weeks ago.


Jonathan and Elisa made no attempt to conceal their guilt and admitted that they knew they had a big part in turning Alexander into the wicked man Patrick had had for a father. They'd both shed tears and apologized to him, well knowing that the real person they should've asked for forgiveness wasn't alive anymore.

Patrick had been shocked and saddened at the tale. He had a difficult time reconciling the grandparents he'd gotten to know recently with the inept people who'd neglected his father during his childhood. But it explained rather convincingly why Alex had turned out that way. It still didn't absolve him, but at least Patrick was able to relate a little do him. He knew of course that his father had had a choice as an adult to act differently and not let his childhood determine his behavior for the rest of his life, but his own experience had taught him how hard it was to turn away from the lessons you learnt growing up.

But it was possible nonetheless, something that Jonathan stressed to point out to his grandson repeatedly. "I'm not trying to absolve myself when I'm telling you that we always have the choice to do better than our parents, Patrick. I don't want to minimize our part in destroying our oldest and lay the whole blame on Alexander. On the contrary, I'm trying to tell you how proud YOU should be, because you've overcome your childhood imprinting, my boy. You are one of the strongest persons I know and though I have no part in making you the man you are, I'm still extremely proud to have you for a grandson, Patrick."

The old man had tears running down his face at that moment and held one of the younger man's hands gently between his two. "You've all that love inside of you, Patrick, though you weren't given any as a child. You're able to connect with people and I'm sure you were a very loving husband and father. And that's an incredible accomplishment all things considered, my boy. When I see you with Teresa or your teammates or even with Paul and Mary my heart sings with joy."

Patrick was quite embarrassed at Jonathan's emotional outburst. He averted his eyes, looked down in his lap and replied rather meekly, "It's not a real accomplishment. I've always been like that. I guess, it's in my very nature. I can't really take any credit for it."

His grandparents had both shaken their heads and Elisa had answered, "But you really should, Patrick. It's not just your nature. You managed to nurture that caring part inside of you even though you had hardly anything to feed it with." She'd asked him to look at her and he'd obeyed. "My dear, that is something to be proud of. I know you have a hard time seeing the real beauty inside of you, but let us assure you that it's there. Teresa and your friends can see it as well. Just trust us on it, okay?"

He'd given them a tentative smile and promised to try. A few days later after some serious contemplation he'd told them that he forgave them their shortcomings when it came to his father and that he hoped his absolution would help them to deal with their guilt. "I don't want you to live out your lives with such regrets and guilt. Alex won't be able to say it and he probably never would've done so anyway even if he was still alive, but I want you to know that I bear you no ill will. You made mistakes. Everybody does. You at least accept and regret them. Alex never did. I've lived with guilt for a long time, practically my whole life. I don't want that for you."

His grandparents had been extremely touched by his words. "See? That's exactly what we were talking about the other day, Patrick. After all you've been through, you still have the biggest heart I've ever encountered. We love you, son," Jonathan had finally pressed out hoarsely. Elisa had just hugged her grandchild as tightly as she dared considering his still healing injury.


Patrick had to spend another two weeks in hospital in Sacramento and had to endure a lot of physical therapy, which he hated. But being forced to stay in bed for so long had left him weak and he needed the training to get back on his feet. His first short outings in the hospital's small park on Teresa's supporting arm made him feel like a very old man. He was exhausted after only a few steps and cursed and whined the whole time. In the end Lisbon had to threaten him with the prospect of not visiting him anymore if he didn't fix his attitude. That had worked like a charm – at least temporarily.

Slowly but continuously he regained his strength and his mood improved accordingly. On his last day in hospital Madeleine Hightower paid him a visit after keeping her distance ever since the first days in LA. She brought him strawberries and cream. Covertly he eyed the treat with a bit of skepticism at first. He'd avoided eating those particular berries ever since his little chat with Timothy Carter. But in the end he shrugged internally and decided that he'd always loved strawberries and wouldn't allow a deranged and very dead serial killer and a hair-care product for kids to spoil it for him any longer. He made sure that his visitor didn't notice his internal debate.

"Oh, hi Madeleine," he greeted her merrily from his perch on the bed. "Nice of you to come by. Don't be shy, come closer." He motioned for her to sit down on the edge of his bed.

She complied with only a short moment of hesitation as Jane noticed. "It's good to see, you've gotten some color back. Last time I saw you, you looked like sour cream." She bent forward a bit and gave him a small hug.

He chuckled at her analogy and eyed her closely. "Well, that was a new one and much preferable to 'like a corpse', I must say. You look exceedingly well yourself, Madeleine, if I may say so. Happy." He smiled at her. "And I hear that congratulations are in order. You're the designated successor of Virgil when he retires for good next year." He nodded at her approvingly. "Good work."

She raised her brows. "Didn't expect Minelli to blab. No one's supposed to know yet."

He grinned smugly. "Ah, but you know me. He was here to visit the other day and couldn't resist me. But I haven't told anyone but Lisbon." He feigned zipping his mouth shut. "And my lips are sealed."

They shared a companionable silence while Jane devoured the berries she'd brought him, moaning with delight. Madeleine watched him indulgently and with a residual feeling of warmth for him. When she caught herself going in a direction she'd firmly resolved to leave behind a few weeks ago, she decided to restart the conversation and get back on safer ground.

"Actually, I'm not sure I'll be able to accept the position," she said warily.

"Oh come on. Please don't tell me it's because you don't want to deal with me," he half-joked, half-inquired seriously.

She smiled enigmatically. "Well, having to deal with a crazy consultant is a bit of a turn-off, but believe it or not – not everything is about you, Patrick. I know it's an alien concept to you-", she grinned, "-but not my whole life centers around you."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied gently. He looked at her with keen interest and then a happy smile lit up his face. "Uhuh. You said, you didn't know whether you'd be able to accept. That means, it's not a question of wanting to. So that means there have to be specific circumstances that could prevent you from being accepted." His grin grew even bigger. "You know, Madeleine, he's not exactly on the same team. That's the only thing the CBI rule book deems a no-go." With a sly and suggestive smirk he added, "Though he'd work under you of course, it's not against regulations."

Hightower shook her head with annoyance and blushed a little. "Obviously you haven't lost any of your damn perceptiveness. How the hell could you possibly know?"

Jane chuckled and sported a triumphant grin. "I told you, you'd be great together. What can I say? I'm a first rate match-maker. I'm even considering a change of career to start 'Jane's Lonely Hearts Club'. What do you think?"

She cast him an indulgent smile. "Oh please, Patrick, don't raise my hopes to the illusion I could be rid of you when I start as the new director. We both know, you won't leave Lisbon and the rest of your CBI friends."

He turned serious again. "Not really, no. You're right. But there'll be a lot of changes now with Red John gone and the team receiving recommendations left and right. They're all top agents and I'm not naive enough to assume that the team won't be split up." He looked a bit sad at the thought, but continued on a happier note, "Teresa is long due for a promotion. From what I've heard, she'll be named supervising agent soon. Virgil sugared the deal for her with the promise that she'll get an assistant to take care of most of the paperwork for her, so she can still work in the field as well. Cho'll surely be made a team leader, probably gets Lisbon's current job, and he really deserves it." A bit more quietly he added, "They all deserve to be promoted. And since I'm pretty sure, it's only a question of time before Rigs and Grace finally talk things out and will get back together, at least one of them will probably leave the SCU as well, soonish. I don't really know where that leaves me."

"Deep down you don't really like change, do you, Patrick?" Madeleine inquired kindly.

He pondered her words for a moment. "I guess you're right. There haven't been that many constants in my life and I've come to appreciate the few I've encountered. And these are very big changes. Red John is dead and he's been more or less my sole purpose for living for the last decade. Me working and being with the team became the only other one. I'm kind of losing both right now."

Hightower patted his arm gently. "Not all change is bad, Patrick. This is a new beginning. You can make choices, decide your future without all that gloom hanging over you. And you have the most important constant still in you life, don't you?"

A big grin lit up his face. "And I won't let her go away any time soon," he stated.

"And you can work with Cho, right?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, I can work with Cho, no problem. And with others as well, I guess. You know, it's mostly the others who don't seem to be able to work with me," he replied, a bit more cheerful. "But still-", he turned serious again, "-it's a lot of big changes and it won't ever be the same again. And I'll miss that. Not all of it, of course, but a lot of things. I just hope the others will stay close by." Hesitantly he continued, "I don't have many friends. With my personality and past it's not easy to really connect with people. Trust issues, you know? Well, anyway, the few friends I have are very important to me." He looked her in the eyes. "I hope, you'll allow me to count you amongst them."

She pulled him into a short, spontaneous hug. "Yes, of course. It may take a while for things to be entirely comfortable between us again. But you're a good man and I'd be honored to be considered your friend," she whispered, a lone tear running down her cheek. "Thank you, Patrick. For everything. You have actually been a good friend to me on many occasions already. I wished, I could say the same about myself."

"It's okay, Madeleine. Just do yourself a favor and be happy with Cho." With a wink he added, "I can tell that he will be."

She blushed a deep red. "Well, we're off to a good start. But I want to take things slowly. It wouldn't be fair to him to use him on some kind of rebound. I don't think it's like that but I want to make sure."

"Don't worry too much about it. I'm pretty sure, you're ready to move on. He'll be good to you. He'll accept your lead but he's never gonna be a push-over. He has a strong respect for women and though he accepts that you're all big and ugly yourself, he'll still protect you."

Satisfied with himself he took in her reaction. She was impressed by his deductions, but tried to mask it. Jane knew he'd pegged her right. He'd known all along after all. Known that she'd felt attracted to him the moment he'd shown a sign of what she would deem to be weakness – an unfortunate misconception on her part.

Hightower liked to be the boss and for her men to submit to her authority while still maintaining to be an equal – as far as those two concepts were compatible. Cho could deal with that. He possessed natural leadership qualities, but his personality didn't exactly predestine him to reach the absolute top, and he thrived in that in-between position. His long standing loyalty towards Lisbon was proof of that. He'd make a great senior agent, but by Jane's estimation he'd never go further than supervisor, if that. Madeleine on the other hand was ambitious to a fault and had the necessary abilities to go very far, maybe as far as federal attorney general.

Seeing her still somewhat skeptical look he said, "Believe me, you two are a good match. I'm 87 point five percent sure you'll be very happy together." He winked again and grinned.

"87 point five?" Her eyebrows disappeared behind her hairline. "What about the other 12 point five percent?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh, that's just the usual 'It's hard to predict all the stupid ways in which you mere mortals manage to screw things up'-margin," he answered snootily.

She had to laugh heartily at that. "God, Jane. You're really something else. Glad to have you in my life – it's never gonna be boring with you around."

"Wow, you really called me god, Madeleine. But I'd prefer God Patrick. God Jane sounds like one of those girly deities responsible for nonsense like fertility or agriculture."

She stood up from her perch on the edge of his bed still laughing and shaking her head. "I think, it's time to leave before you turn into even more of a pest," she teased. Turning serious she said, "It was good to see you. Don't be a stranger when you're out of here. I know you'll still be on sick leave for a while. Feel free to visit me at City Hall any time." She bent forward and pecked him on the cheek. "Bye, Patrick. Take care of yourself and don't annoy Teresa too much. She has enough stress at work as it is, what with all the well-wishers and the media at her back constantly. And all the clean-up work. As you know, everybody's still very busy finding all the moles and possible leaks, not to mention uncover the whole network of that monster. I'm sure, she'd appreciate some emotional support from her boyfriend."

She went over to the door while Jane replied, "I'll do that. I know I've been a bit of a nuisance lately." He shrugged. "What can I say? I hate hospitals, but come morning I'll blow this joint and go home to make my girl very happy." He winked and grinned deviously.

She shook her head but couldn't quell the smile. "TMI, Jane, TMI."

"Bye, Madeleine. Be good to yourself and Kimball. See you soon."


TBC

Now we're in the middle of rounding things up. You may call this the biggest epilog in the history of epilogs if you want, because there're still some chapters to come... I wanted to resolve as many issues as possible before the grand finale, which will be the "offical" epilog...