Title: The long road back home

Author: little_firestar

Artist: kathiann

Total Word Count: ~ 16165

Rating: K+

Summary: In the aftermath of Red John's death, Jane and Lisbon are faced with a future where they are not any longer in the shadow of a serial killer. But ten years are a long time, and not everything is how they had wanted it to be, and they'll discover that staying together may be a mistake, but being lonely could be even worse.

Disclaimer: No, nor the characters or the show belong to me. And this time around, there is not even an original character to claim as mine…

Notes: Future-fic, post Red John's end. Spoiler-free. Amazing Thanks to Kathiann for the incredible art and the very inspirinmg fanmix. Working with her on a Big Bang is always a pleasure.

Chapter One

At the end it wasn't like he had imagined it. Not at all.

When he had first sworn revenge, Jane had assumed that getting to end the serial killer's life would be enough to free him, but as soon as he saw the lifeless body on the ground, he realized that it wasn't as cathartic as he had always assumed. He didn't know what he had though until that moment. The fact that Red John was gone didn't really change anything for him. His past was still the same. His family was lost, and he still was responsible for their deaths.

And yet, at the same time, the fact that the serial killer was finally gone meant everything to him. He was free, he could bury his past, leave it behind as much as he could, and look forward to the future. It was really a strange sensation: Jane had never really believed those people who said that you could feel like crying and laughing at the same time, being ecstatic and desperate in the same instant. And yet, it was exactly as he felt.

And that was another part of the problem.

He knew how he felt. He also knew how he was supposed to feel thanks to books and thousands of people who thought they just had to get involved with his life, and yet he didn't know if it really was right. It wasn't just because it took him over ten years to really start to mourn his family in the proper way, but... it was hard to explain. It was just that, everybody had their opinion, and every book said the same thing in just a different way. Everything and everyone told him he had to move on, and he knew that many of them spoke out of first-hand knowledge, but no one really was in his own position. Everyone told him they knew how he felt, that everybody, just because they were survivors, felt guilty, but it wasn't the case. He was guilty.

Yes, he knew he hadn't killed them with his own hands, and yet, it was exactly where their blood was. It was his fault if his family was no more, because he had been a greedy, full-functioning sociopathic, self-centered con artist and he had spoken too much about things he didn't really have a saying into. He had always, always, believed that getting to kill Red John would have freed him, he had never doubted it, and yet, he had been wrong. Red John was gone. He was alive. And he didn't feel any better.

"Jane..." A tiny, soft, delicate hand went to his shoulder, and he turned to look at Lisbon. He could see relief in her features - because he was alive and Red John wasn't - but also fear. He felt like there were so many things he had to tell her, things that now he could say at loud, but he found out that he didn't have the strength to. He wanted to laugh. to cry, to live, to die... but mostly, he wanted to just ask her to open her arms and take him in, to allow him to cry on her shoulder and let him fall asleep there. He wanted to ask her to be there for him, to mend his broken heart, but the words didn't come out. Just like she hadn't been able to say nothing more than his surname, he couldn't add anything to his intake of breath.

His family was gone. Red John was gone. He was alive. Lisbon was alive. He wanted to live. And he wanted to do so with her, but he wasn't sure he could.

She was just too much. Oh, he wasn't stupid. He knew she wasn't perfect, far from it, but that wasn't the problem. It was just that she deserved better. He was so... small, broken, imperfect and... he was just so, so bad. Sometimes he thought he had the magic touch of ruining everything he cared for, also when Red John wasn't part of the equation. How many of his relationships had been ruined, even before he crossed paths with the serial killer? Everyone he cared for, they eventually either abandon him or got abandoned by him, and if the choice was between having Lisbon as a friend, or even just as his boss, and not having her at all, there wasn't really any choice. It was just that easy.

He didn't want to lose her, and he wanted more than what he had right now, probably more than he was allowed to have. But he felt like it wasn't meant to be. Yes, they both wanted the same thing- a future together- but he wasn't that kind of man any longer. Maybe they could have been happy together in another time, another life, but now he couldn't give her what she wanted. What she deserved. Having a family, love, together, just to have it all tainted by the darkness of his past, shattered by his broken soul, it just wasn't right. Lisbon wanted it all, and it all was what she deserved. And he knew she could still have it, just not with him. But he knew just the right man: her man.

Peter was just perfect for her. He worked in law enforcement as well, in a white-collared position, and he understood her and her needs. He was a good Catholic from a loving family, an Ivy League graduate... he wasn't just the better man, he was the perfect one for Lisbon. He knew that when she had accepted to go out with him she hadn't even just wanted to make her consultant jealous, she was simply looking for a rebound to have good old fashioned sex with. She wanted a one night stand, and not a relationship, but Jane had eventually pushed them towards each other, and now here they were. Lisbon had been dating the guy for over six months, and if she thought that now that Red John was gone he would have tried to steal her away from her prince, well, she was wrong.

And, just like that... here he was, detective Peter Heist, Sacramento PD, Major Crimes Unit. Not that it really was a surprise. Heist was working the case too, and he knew that they were going to end it all that very night. Jane assumed he was a tiny bit mad about not having Red John taken in alive- it would have been good for the spotlight, in case he would have decided to eventually run for Sheriff. Besides, there was also the tiny particular about Lisbon being his girlfriend/soon to be bride-to-be. And, even if Heist could be an ass and they hated each other with a passion, the man honestly loved Lisbon. Even if he hadn't worked the case, Jane was sure he would have eventually joined them on the scene, just to see how his girlfriend was doing.

"Reese? Are you all right?" Heist joined them, an arm around Lisbon's waist -to protect her, but also to remember whom she belonged to - and when Jane saw his eyes darken at the sight of the serial killer's body, he knew he had been right. The guy was mad, indeed. Oh well, he thought trying to repress a smirk, one couldn't have it all from life...

"We're fine. Just our luck Jane improved with guns..." she said. Her voice was laced with fear, relief and something else he couldn't point out exactly. He wondered if she was somehow... happy, knowing that he had gotten what he wanted-murderous vengeance- and yet he was still free. He had really acted on self-defense, there was no denying it. He had kept his promise to her, he had done things just like she wanted them to. He hadn't killed only because he wanted to. It was because he didn't have any choice, it was either the killer or himself. She had to be proud of herself, she had gotten so much under his skin that he had to follow her path, no matter what.

So, maybe...

But then, as soon as he dared to imagine a future with that beautiful woman, he fisted his hands at his sides. He couldn't risk losing her. He didn't have any right to ruin either her or Peter's happiness. Getting involved in things he didn't have a saying into always resulted in bad things happening, and he was sick and tired of it.

He looked at her leaving the warehouse, Peter's arm still around her, and as much as he wanted to be happy for his friend, he just couldn't. But maybe, faking happiness, being miserable for the rest of his days was just a fitting punishment for his youthful hubris.

Besides, it was better having her in his life that way, than not having her at all.

Or at least, he hoped that he could really think that in due time.