A/N: Oneshot. Songfic: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye. This is to get my Jisbon muse back before I write my next Forgiven chapter. Enjoy! XD

Allie xoxo

The old, creaky staircase rattled as Jane made his way up to the attic he frequented to think. Every Red John case made him think about his marriage. About how he and Angela would take turns cooking and reading their daughter Charlotte a bedtime story. About their time in the carnival and about how they ran away together. About them in general.

One special time stuck out in Jane's mind, just the night before he had gotten them killed.

"Ang, why don't we go to the park today? It'll be fun," he said as he lay in bed with his wife on a sunny Sunday morning.

"I don't know, Patty," she sounded uncertain.

"C'mon, we can take turns pushing Charlotte on the swings. I'll even make the sandwiches," he bribed.

The truth was, he just wanted to get out of the house. He had wanted to stop with the psychic business, but Angela wanted the money. The best for their daughter, she had told him.

"Fine," Angela capitulated.

"Thanks," Jane kissed her on the cheek and ran down the stairs to find their long lost picnic basket.

He fished it out sometime later from the back of their walk-in pantry.

"What are you doing, Daddy?"

"We're going to have a picnic at the park today," he told his daughter, grinning.

"Yay, can I help make the sandwiches?" Charlotte smiled and her blonde curls bounced as she jumped up and down.

"Sure, Honey,"

Jane brought her a stool to stand on as she folded the ham and turkey.

That night, Jane lay in bed again, unable to sleep.

"I'm so happy I could die," Angela told him. "I have a beautiful daughter and a husband that really cares. Thank you, Patrick. You did that for me,"

She soon fell asleep, leaving him with his thoughts.

Jane thought back and remembered how he then told himself that Angela was the one he was meant to marry. After all, they had escaped together, they had a daughter. They loved each other.

But he remembered feeling lonely when he was with her. He didn't feel that he could tell her anything without her getting angry at him.

And they didn't have much in common. On their monthly date night, the two were mostly silent. Only commenting on the food and things about their beloved Charlotte. Jane didn't like it.

That was love, wasn't it? Being with someone, for them, even though it hurts you? He had ached for her, for their daughter. He remembered the feeling because he was feeling it again.

He knew he was addicted to it, to the pain of being rejected. He wanted it again and again. He made himself fall in love with women he knew would eventually break it off with him, just so he could feel something. He was resigning himself to the end, he knew that.

He would never have anyone to carry on his memory, his face, his stories, and his essence. It would be the end of Patrick Jane, and he knew he did it to himself.

Jane thought of his secret, the one he had never told anyone. He thought of the morning he had told Angela he wanted a divorce. He knew that they didn't make sense together. Their purpose was to run away together, not be there forever. It wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He remembered holding Angela as she cried in front of him while they sat on their bed. He rubbed her shoulder affectionately and rested his chin on her head. He remembered smiling sadly as Angela asked him if they could still be friends.

He had been glad that it was over, all of the hurt. But now he knew it would never be.

He knew that leaving, both his marriage and Lisbon for 6 months had probably not been the right decision.

Jane didn't need to cut her off, not tell her anything or answer any of her calls. He knew she was there for him, didn't he?

No, he made it seem like their friendship, if that's what it was, didn't happen. Like after his mental breakdown he had just become an alcoholic that frequented the local casinos.

He made Lisbon think that whatever that was between them was nothing.

But she didn't need him or his love. No, but she desperately wanted both. She wanted to hold Jane in her arms when he cried, and wanted him to do the same for her.

That wouldn't happen because to Jane, Lisbon was a stranger. He wasn't going to tell her anything about what he was thinking or about what he was going through.

Though she hated to admit it, it made her feel miniscule. Jane was the only one who had the power to make her feel that way.

He didn't have to stoop as low as ignoring her for half a year, nearly worrying her to death. Jane had collected all of his Red John files from the attic, then just left.

She wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out that he had changed his phone number, or even left his cell in the motel that he had been staying at.

Lisbon had remembered thinking that she didn't even need his phone number because she didn't know him anymore.

She thought back to all of the times that Jane had screwed her over, almost costing her her job (and in some cases actually accomplished it) and her life. She would always take a bullet for him. He had even made her think multiple times that it was something that she had done wrong, like letting him put together a scheme to catch their murderer.

Lisbon didn't want to live that way. She didn't want to try to read in between the lines of everything Jane said, every word that the man spoke. She never knew if he was telling the whole truth, or if he dared to lie to her.

When she had gone over to Jane's hotel the day that he had buried that man, he had been packing a bag with a clean 3 piece suit.

When she asked him why he did it, all he had said was that he could get let them go, and that she wouldn't find him hung up on people that he had used to know.

She wasn't sure what he had meant by that, because now he was somebody she didn't know anymore.

She looked up from her desk with a knock on her door. Before she had answered, Jane had made his way over to her. He only passed to look at her for a minute, then pressed his lips to hers, hard.

He wanted her to know that he wasn't a stranger, and that she was somebody close to him.

A/N2: Hope you liked it even though it was angsty! Please drop a review on your way out, and if you're feeling up to it, check out some of my other stories!

[:})] - robot with mustache. *teehee*