34A/N: To Guest (March 4): I'm very much interested in your reaction: "Your jane & lisbon in this were were very au & not like the show unfortunately..." If you have time/inclination, I very much would like to better understand your "take." Please feel free to expand on your comment if you have the time. Thanks for reading and your interesting comment.
End of Red John / Start of a New Life - Part II
Chapter 1: Sorting Through the Pieces
Jane
Jane pressed "SEND" on the burner cell phone. Lisbon would get the text, would know he was coming back. It was the last particle of energy he could spare for any concern outside of himself.
Exhaustion and pain couldn't be denied forever. Everything he put off at the hospital came boiling back, insistent, overwhelming, an almost physical pressure inside his head. His arm hurt continuously. Then the rest of his body cramped and ached from his effort to baby his arm. Drained, he had all he could do to stay awake as he headed toward the coast, driving toward the stillness and seclusion he craved. The third time he caught himself dropping off he forced himself to exit at a rest stop and buy a Coke. The sugar and caffeine might keep him awake till he reached the resort.
Two hours later he turned right onto a narrow road which was almost lost in the trees. Unlit and unmarked, it would be easy to miss for anyone who didn't know it was there. A mile long entrance drive ended at the low, unobtrusive administrative and recreational building. He pulled up to the bank of electronic mailboxes. After a moment, he gathered the strength to get out, key in the code that had been provided by the resort manager when he called and made the reservation. He took the magnetic key cards and drove to the farthest cabin. Enclosed parking was underneath the raised, circular structure. He pulled the door closed behind his car then wearily climbed the stairs. He headed to the nearest bedroom. After removing shoes and the sling for his left arm, he managed a compromise between avoiding pain and finding a comfortable sleeping position. Deep, dreamless sleep claimed him immediately.
Lisbon
Cho dropped Lisbon off at her townhouse an hour after leaving Carson Springs, well after midnight. Thoughts full of their Red John take-down, she shivered a bit as she unlocked the door, glad Cho was waiting till she was inside before pulling away. Still too keyed up to turn in, she started to make coffee, then decided on tea – a concession to her desire to wind down and a silent nod to Jane. She resolutely pushed thoughts aside about how to keep Jane and her team safe from Red John's friends, Blake members, and even Visualize believers, knowing there was nothing she could do till morning. After drinking the tea and relaxing on the couch for a half hour, she finally felt ready to sleep. Haffner's face haunted the darkness. His warning to stay away from Jane during that murder case, her nightmare after being marked with Partridge's blood, the subtly threatening vibe when he visited her at the hospital – they all jostled in her memory and then dreams. Lisbon shuddered recalling Haffner's job offer and the few moments she had been tempted by it. She wondered how she – and Jane! – could have taken so long to ID Haffner as Red John. Her last thought was that sociopaths were inherently hard to read. They do not have to work at hiding feelings because normal feelings for others such as empathy and sympathy were simply absent in their make-up. She was in the middle of a prayer of thanks when sleep overtook her.
Cho
Cho slammed his fist into the bag, grunting at the solid thwack against the leather. Still on edge, he had driven to the CBI gym after dropping Lisbon off. An hour later, he had just about burned off the tension and emotions of the night's work. No small part of his workout was occasioned by Jane. Cho's admiration and friendship for the man were in raw tension with his frustration at the risks Jane took – unnecessary risks, unjustified risks in his opinion. Sure, Jane closed cases. His crazy gambles paid off oftener than Jane had any decent right to expect. But Jane was oblivious to the enormous cost he imposed on the team by taking those risks. No one wanted a friend and colleague to suffer the consequences of stupid risks, especially when he and Rigsby felt a special obligation to try to keep him alive. Cho resolved to metaphorically pound that point into Jane's head the next chance he got – meanwhile taking his frustration out on the punching bag.
Finished with the gym, he allowed himself to buy a candy bar and Coke. They had, after all, taken Red John down.
Rigsby and Van Pelt
Leaning back against the couch, Rigsby cradled Van Pelt in his arms.
Grace had been an emotional wreck for hours after they got back from Carson Springs. It had taken her two years to get past O'Laughlin's betrayal, to begin to regain confidence in her own judgment. Wayne still missed a certain sweetness in her and figured it was probably gone forever after those events. This night, killing Red John - Haffenr - had dredged it all back up. Finally, finally she was exhausted and cried out. Leaning back into his arms, she relaxed, told him she finally felt clean again, no longer degraded and disgraced. He kissed her cheek as she fell asleep against him. Something tight inside him unwound, at peace at last that she was all right after he had failed to protect her from O'Laughlin and Red John. Jane wasn't the only one who had been scarred.
