A/n Hello :)

It has been a while since I updated this. I have a few ideas that I will be writing/posting over the next week. This is the first one and I hope you like it!

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Anniversary-Eve

It has been building all day, the storm, it could be sensed in the atmosphere. There has barely been a cloud in the sky over the past week and the heat has been sweltering, but today the temperature has drastically dropped. Jane took advantage of this by taking his toddling son to the playground, the young boy was not at risk so much of heatstroke or being burnt by the harsh rays, but as he watched the white clouds in the distance create a wall and turn darker, the wind suddenly switching direction, he knew what was coming. It is howling now and making the heavy rain beat loudly against the window, masking the sound of each other's breaths, but he knows that his wife is awake. She must be. He doesn't know how anyone could possibly sleep through this… apart from Theo of course.

It is dark in their bedroom. The only source of light coming from a small, orange bulb in the hallway near their door that is always left open a sliver for their son to come in if he needs to. There is also the lightning, which flashes every-so-often, but this house that her husband remodelled, is the first place she has lived where the streets haven't been lined by lamps. It is nice and private and a for a short time she considered that being surrounded by darkness at night would perturb her, but she feels nothing but safe. Even tonight with her stomach churning with nausea. Lisbon releases a sigh that somehow, he manages to hear over the loud storm outside and he is immediately turning on his side to face her, trying to make out the outline of her face in the dark. A well-time lightning strike illuminates it transiently, but it is long enough to spot the anguish in her features. "You alright?" He asks, tone groggy with fatigue.

"Yeah." She lies. "Go back to sleep."

"You think I can sleep in this?"

"You used to sleep in a busy bullpen."

"That was different… It was like white noise." Lisbon doesn't reply to this, she just continues to stare up at the ceiling, her mind working at one hundred miles per hour. "Talk to me Teresa, please. I might be able to help."

And she sighs again, but it is different to the one before, it is bursting with frustration as if the internal battle she has been having with herself is too much. "It's just…" She pauses and even in the dim light of the room she can feel his intense gaze on her, trying to work the problem out. "You don't like to talk about it. About him." It only takes two sentences for it to become obvious. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

Of course he knows what tomorrow is. The date is scratched into his brain, tattooed onto the grey tissue as being one of the most monumental days in his life. The day that his revenge mission reached its conclusion. "The anniversary of Red John's death. I am aware." It shocks her whenever he utters his name now, which is odd when she used to hear it all of the time, but since their reunion after his exile, he has not wanted to say it. She thinks she has only heard him say it a handful of times over the past few years and she has never once heard him use the serial killer's real name – Thomas McAllister.

"That day still haunts me." She reveals and it is like he has been stabbed in the gut. It hits him, hard, and instead of blood pouring out of the wound it is guilt that now floods every ounce of his being. It is an emotion which was once a daily presence, but since finding domestic bliss and focussing all of his energy on Teresa and Theo, it has been gone. He almost forgot what it felt like until now.

Jane turns around under the sheets and levers himself up slightly into a sitting position so that he can reach for the switch on his bedside lamp, brightening their surroundings. When he manoeuvres to look back to her, he detects a trail from a tear down her cheek and his heart aches at the sight. "I am here now." He attempts to soothe, finding her hand beneath the covers and lifting it to rest their entwined fingers on top of it. Feeling connected is one thing, but actually seeing it adds another dimension and gives him an inkling of calm amongst the panic. "We are together. We have moved on."

"It wasn't just the fact I lost you. Even though that was awful." Her voice cracks when muttering the last word and she knows it doesn't quite do the emotions of that day justice. "When I found out he was dead, I felt pleased… and I hated myself for that." She confesses and the next time she breathes in, it turns into a sniffle. "Grace managed to persuade me that I was pleased for you, not because you killed Red John." Teresa is addressing the ceiling, not her husband, as she speaks because she is not feeling brave enough to see his upset, it would just increase her own. "But even now I am not sure." She swallows down nothing, him doing the same, but to try and keep his own emotions from spilling over. "I know overthinking it is stupid-"

"It isn't." He interjects, his heartbeat having become uncomfortably loud in his head. "One night, when we were still in the hospital with Theo…" Their son was born premature and although he was healthy, they kept him for almost a week as a precaution. It was scary and he barely slept, not wanting to take his eyes off his tiny, pink son. "…I looked at him through that little plastic box and asked myself if he would grow up to hate me." And now it his Jane's turn to avert his gaze because she has turned to face him, taking in every syllable that leaves his mouth as if it is gospel. "I have killed four people, Teresa, and they may have not been good people, but it still makes me a murderer. Tomorrow it will be five years and I genuinely believe that I am a different person to that man five years ago and that is mainly because of you." He glances to her, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears, wide, staring into his soul despite her tiredness. "I will forever be sorry for everything that I put you through because no-one deserved that, especially you." It isn't the first time he has said sorry, and he doubts it will be the last, each time she waves off his apologies, but now she remains quiet, not moving. "But I do like to think that we are in a good place now."

He allows his mask to slip away and although the light is coming from behind him meaning his face isn't lit so much, she straightaway discerns his affliction. "We are." Lisbon quashes his worries swiftly, speaking gently, and delicately rests her hand against his cheek comfortingly. "Of course we are." Her thumb rubs lightly against his soft skin and his eyes flutter close at the contact. "It is only around this time of year that I remember the tough times. The rest of the time, life is great." She continues, the storm outside now beginning to ease and it has become quiet enough that she can perceive his long, drawn-out exhale that helps some of the tension dissipate from his shoulders that had become bunched as soon as he mentioned the serial killer's name.

His eyes only open because the mattress dips nearer to him as she shuffles closer, trying to bring the distance between them down to nothing. When their lips touch, it is more than just a kiss, it is a promise to each other. A promise to not let the difficulties of their past to affect what they already know is a fantastic future. Sometimes actions speak louder and words, and they do in this case, they don't need to talk about their future again, they just need to enjoy it.

Jane is nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth when they are interrupted. "Mommy! Mommy!" Theo begins to shout from next door, the sound being amplified by it coming through the baby monitor at her bedside.

"Why is it that in the day it is all daddy daddy, but at night, I am the chosen one huh?" She questions, so close that she is practically talking against his lips. They are certainly close enough for her to sense his smile and to feel his breathy chuckle in reply. "I think I might bring him in here." Lisbon decides, after moving back a bit, ready to push herself out of bed.

"Yeah?"

"I want to cuddle my baby boy."

"But I am right here." He teases, watching her patter over the wooden floor daintily and all she does before walking out is mouth hush at him, but her lips are tugging upwards, a hint of a smile.