Finale Part Three

Jane sat in the front of the church trying not to cry, but he couldn't stop. It was so weird because once he started to cry, he cried for... everyone; he cried for Angela, he cried for Charlotte, he cried for Kristina, but most of all he cried for Lisbon. His Lisbon. His Teresa.

"Lisbon" he shouted. "Teresa" he whispered.

Everyone in the church looked in his direction, and then, when they saw who it was, they all gave a sympathetic look. Everyone knew who Jane was. His face was all over the news. He was Patrick Jane and he had gunned down the man many believed to be Red John. This time, however, there was plenty of evidence. He was the serial killer and because of Jane's current mental state he wouldn't serve a day in prison. How poetic, Jane thought, even in death, Red John had destroyed his life. But how could he care, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered because of that box, the box right there in front of his eyes. So close he could almost reach out and touch it! Then, as quickly as a match being struck, his tears stopped and his laughter began. He seemed like a madman, but he didn't care what anyone thought. Maybe he was a madman now. What did it matter, his life was over. As he sat there laughing, he saw many faces trying to not look at him, and he might have known them once, but now - everyone, everyone was a total stranger. He was completely alone in the world.

"Come on Jane it's time to get you back to the hospital." Van Pelt said from his left. He looked her in the eye and smiled as she helped him get up on unsteady legs. He really didn't belong at the hospital. An asylum was probably the best place for him, he was a madman. He cried or laughed at inappropriate moments. He had no idea who anyone was, so he was extremely paranoid. A part of him was afraid the woman beside him wasn't Grace, but he knew her scent. In many ways he was like a dog now, the best way to identify anyone was by their smell. There were smells that he would die to smell right now. Teresa's cinnamon body odor, or sometimes she had smelled of vanilla. He didn't know which one of them he liked the best now - but he thought he would give up everything just to smell those scents again on her.

"Wait! I want to see." He told Grace, motioning toward the casket.

"Jane, what good would that do, I mean you can't recognize... "

"I wanna see the face!" he shouted hurrying to the casket before anyone could stop him.

He looked down into it at the person lying there. Just like everyone expected, he didn't recognize the face. It didn't matter. He knew it was him. The evil was oozing from him, there in his Sunday best. Red John was dead, and he had done it. He had killed the bastard. Red John wouldn't be hurting anyone else. Jane leaned forward until he was face-to-face with him.

"I won." He whispered. He straightened himself to full height and decided to leave the church with dignity. Then he saw him, Kristina's son, and the victory didn't seem so bittersweet any longer.

*AC*

"Hey, before you go back to the hospital, how 'bout we go see Lisbon, she's been asking for you." Van Pelt asked hopefully cheerful.

"No, I don't think that's wise. I don't think she really wants to see me. How is she?" Jane asked.

"She's been through a lot, but she's doing well. Physical therapy is a "bitch" her word not mine. They say things can get tricky with a spinal injury like hers." Grace smiled.

"Relegated to a desk job for the rest of her life, all because of me, no, I'm sure I've done Lisbon enough favors." He sighed.

"Jane, please, you've been avoiding her long enough. She says she's been calling but you won't take her calls. And when she did manage to get to your room, you told them not to let her in. She really needs to talk to you."

"I can't. It's too hard. The last time I saw her she was covered in blood and reaching for me. She wanted me to hold her hand and I couldn't. I was too afraid she was Lorelei. Teresa almost died. All she wanted was a little comfort from the man she loved and I was too afraid to give it to her. She had been held hostage by a madman because of me, and then at the end of it all she wanted me, and what did I do? I had a meltdown right there! She doesn't need me anymore, Grace. I've taken too much from her, I'm no good for her, she can rebuild her life without me. It may seem cold-hearted now but at least I won't be around to mess up what she has left." He continued to the car where Rigsby was waiting.

"We still haven't found Lorelei, I guess she must have known a lot of people who worked at the hospital. We'll get her though, and then you and Lisbon can come back to the CBI where you both belong." Rigsby told him.

"Yeah, sure." Jane acknowledged him, but not really listening.

And then it happened. So fast no one was expecting anything! Lorelei came from behind a nearby bush - a mad look in her eye. In a blink she had Jane by the neck, a syringe to his jugular. Lorelei was in charge now, she knew it, and she loved it.

"What madness is this? In what world does the man who guns down a beloved father figure to so many, callously get to attend his funeral? What madness is it that this low life is still alive, and the beauty that was Red John is hidden in a pine box to be put into the ground like common filth? Jane should be the one dead. He should be rotting with his whore of a wife, and that little bitch of a daughter. Oliver never would have done any of this... it's fine though because I'm making things right." She pulled him toward the bushes.

Right before she could make it around the corner and out of sight, a gunshot rang out stopping her in her tracks. Lorelei was stunned to look up into the face of one, not so paralyzed, Teresa Lisbon.

"I got you this time you sick bitch." Teresa smiled coming toward the almost fallen Lorelei Martins who was slowly dragging a confused Patrick Jane to the ground with her.

"No I got you." and before Lisbon could stop her, she pushed the plunger on the needle into Jane's neck. Then... with a smug smile on her face, Lorelei died.

*AC*

Everything was bright. Much too bright, everything was too bright and his vision was extremely blurry. Someone was talking to him but they were going in and out of focus. He thought maybe they had screamed for an ambulance but as of now everything was numb and he thought he might have lost the use of all his bodily functions. That was not good, didn't that happen when you were about to die. Was he about to die?

"Hey, hey look at me. Do you see me?" she asked in vain because of the poison coursing through his veins now.

"Teresa." He gasped. He could see her, his Lisbon. But it was so unfocused, so unclear. One second it was her, the next someone else, like his mind was trying to make a decision.

"Yeah, it's me, you've been neglecting my calls. I've got something to say to you. You have to hang on.

"I can't it hurts." He gasped at the pain going on in his body. All of his extremities were on fire, and he couldn't think, his body was definitely in control and he was going to vomit.

Lisbon watched in horror as he leaned forward and threw up all kinds of stuff on sidewalk including blood.

"Where the hell is that ambulance? This is not how it's so supposed to end. We can be together now, you and me, with nothing to stand in our way."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yeah I do. I didn't protect you from her. I let him get you, and I waited so long to tell you that I love you."

"You did finally tell me though, and we had a great time. Through it all I was the face you knew in a crowd. You made me feel like the most important person in the world." She held him tightly.

She knew he was dying. His body was shivering. He was going into shock and she couldn't stop the tears. She had to tell him something, something important.

"Jane I have to tell you something."

"I know Lisbon. I love you too." He smiled. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I'll be waiting for you on the other side."

She watched terrified as his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp.

"Where is that god damn ambulance!" she shouted one last time for good measure.

This time her prayers were answered because the ambulance arrived. The paramedics frantically began to work on him. She passed them the syringe that had fallen beside Lorelei so they could find out what she had done to him. When they put him in the ambulance she couldn't have been held back even if they'd tried. She climbed in beside him and held a clammy hand between her two warm ones for the entire ride.

Five months later

Everyone had told Lisbon she should give up hope but for the last 150 days, and many of the nights, she had been right here by his side. She lucked out - well it was more than luck. Mainly because of the Red John takedown and some other situations she had gotten the time off she needed. Everyone thought she was crazy and no one thought he would recover. The amount of damage the poison had done to him was unknown.

He had crashed twice the day of the accident and then he had slipped into a coma and had never spoken again. Coma patients tended to do that kind of thing. She'd made sure they turned him and took extra special care of him, because she had known he was going to wake up, and now here she was watching it happen. They had called her that morning around five and told her he seemed to be waking up. The nurses, who had come to know and care for Teresa as well as Patrick, told her he had said her name. This was very good but it could also take time, before anything else happened. It didn't matter, she was up and there in 24 minutes flat.

*AC*

There was a very big, very loud pop and then he seemed to be aware of everything around his bedside. It was as though the sound had been turned on again. He knew immediately that time had passed, a large amount of time had passed because when he tried and to move his legs he found he couldn't. Wow - Lorelei really did get the last laugh when she injected him with whatever that was she had used on him. Bravo.

"Jane are you awake?" Lisbon asked.

He couldn't believe it. It was Lisbon. Lisbon was here. She was living and breathing and she was here. She didn't care how much he had hurt her she was still here. He had to open his eyes to see her face, if only for a minute.

"Lisbon." His voice cracked from underuse.

He opened his eyes and his breath caught. It was Lisbon, it was Teresa Lisbon and she had her face. Not the face of a stranger, and not the scarred face from his memory. It was Teresa Lisbon. Things were different. Her face was a bit chubbier but her eyes were happy. She was happy, and that was good. It meant she hadn't been sitting there forever.

"I told them you'd come back to me. There you are, you have no idea how happy I am to see those eyes of yours." She smiled.

"Lorelei?" he questioned.

"I killed her, she is burning in hell with Red John!" she spat. "No wait, you recognized me. As in really truly recognized me?"

"Yes!"

Although Teresa knew she should be calling a doctor, she knew she had never been so happy in her entire life and she showed Patrick Jane how happy with the biggest kiss ever.

Jane didn't know what his life had in store for him, but he had never been so happy, Teresa Lisbon loved him. Things would be better from now on because... their kiss was interrupted by a familiar yet shocking sound from the corner.

"Lisbon?" he questioned.

Lisbon couldn't stop the huge grin from forming on her face as she walked over and picked up the carrier and brought it to Jane's bed. A very small face was staring up at him. He had Lisbon's coloring and her beautiful emerald eyes, but that mop. That mop of blonde curls.

"Lisbon." Was all he could get out.

"I was trying to talk to you after the shooting but you ignored me. You blamed yourself and I understood that, but this little guy was growing inside of me and I wanted to tell you. He arrived a little early, about seven and a half months, but I would like you to meet your son, Patrick Alexander Jane II." Smiling she handed the tiny bundle to him.

She had to practically hold him for Jane but he didn't care. He was looking down at his son. He was looking at his son and seeing his face, his real face. Patrick Jane wanted to memorize it, every dimple or blemish that made his son's face unique. He wanted to remember it, he wanted to be able to spot this face in a crowd.

The End…