AN: Here's a Mentalist fanfic. Teresa Lisbon jsut reminded me too much of myself i had to write something on it. hope you like it! don't forget to read and review! :D

"Jane! Jane answer your phone damnit!" I scream into the phone. This was the third time I had called him. Something was up. He would normally answer with his first name basis chipper voice just to piss me off knowing fully well, even if it were only him on the other line, I preferred Lisbon. It was less personal that way, and I didn't like to admit we had been through enough together to call each other by our first names. It was just something I didn't like. God! Why wasn't he answering?? I hung up promptly. He went for him. I could just tell. I thought about the conversation we had earlier in the week.

"Lisbon, you have to let me go after him."

"No I don't Jane! You will follow orders and you will not go after him! He is a dangerous killer and you may have mind games but it doesn't work on psychopaths!"

"I don't think Red John is a psychopath."

"No, of course not. I mean everyone in their right mind wants to make an art form out of a murder scene." I snapped sarcastically. He paused and looked at me intently studying me. I hated it when he did that.

"You're upset." He stated.

"Huh. No shit Sherlock! Nice of you to notice." I snapped forcefully. I saw the slightest flinch, and it started to worry me. I lowered my voice a bit.

"Jane, I know what he did isn't easy for you to deal with," I said coming close to him, standing right in front of him so that only he could hear me. I knew Rigsby and Van Pelt were not far from the door and this was between me and Jane. "But revenge is not the answer." I searched his eyes, knowing he could read my eyes, imploring him not to do what he was impulsed to do. "I know revenge seems like the sweetest pie Jane, but I'm begging you not to go after the serial killer who ruined your life just out of vengeance. I know you're going to say that vengeance and justice are the same, but you have to understand they are not." I said. I didn't break eye contact with him the whole time. he searched my eyes with such an intensity, I wanted to turn away, but knew I couldn't. I couldn't back down now. Before he even began, I knew he wasn't going to comply. "I don't think Red John is a psychopath." He repeated, " I think I can handle him." I looked incredulously at him.

"Jane, you can't handle a murderer!" I said, "and this is where you're wrong. He has you fooled Jane. You are thinking of him as a god."

"No I'm not."

"yes! Yes you are! and don't you dare tell me otherwise!" I knew my voice had raised but he was infuriating. I just couldn't help it.

"This is what obsession does to you Jane,' I whispered so that only he could hear me, "It turns your mind around. It has you raising it on a pedestal. You must stop this. He's not a balanced person. You cannot go after him. I forbid you."

"You forbid me to do a lot of things, but yet you know I won't pay attention." He said quietly, "Why is that?" "Let's say I learned to trust you." I said roughly. Another flinch. I was getting to him more than I thought I was. He searched my face. God again with the searching! Did it ever stop? "Are you worried about me Lisbon?" I threw my hands up in exasperation.

"Yes! Yes I am Jane! And for good reason! You say you want to go after a serial killer though you know that you have a slim to none chance!"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take." He said flatly.

"well it's not a risk I'm willing to let you take!" I shouted. Shock seemed apparent on his face. I didn't know why. Him and his mentalist ways must have seen that one coming. We stood there staring at each other for the longest time. "I will stop him," he said firmly, "or I'll die trying." He finally broke eye contact with me and stormed out of my office.

This was the reason I knew he was after him. Not too long ago, Cho had gotten a location for his next victim. I swear Red John was doing this to torture Jane. His next victim was said to be killed in Jane's house. What Cho found odd was that Red john himself was the one who wrote it and put it on a website easily accessible to the public. Jane hurried out the door silently, so silently I hadn't noticed. I searched for him on the couch and asked Rigsby if he saw him when he went to the restroom. He said no. It then all clicked. Red John knew Jane's obsession for revenge. Jane was his next victim. Jane, blinded by anger and sorrow, had failed to notice the glitch in the whole too perfect plan. Lucky for his close to dead ass, I was still in my right mind and caught the obvious lure.

"Jane's gone. He won't answer his phone. He's after our killer. Time to go after him." I called to my team.

"Rigsby, Cho, come with me. Van Pelt, call the ambulance and tell them to come in five minutes to Jane's address. I have a feeling we're going to need it." I wasn't any mentalist, but I still had my gut feeling. "tell them to call you once they head to the scene. once they call you, head over there yourself. If there's not sign of a struggle, be careful, it may not have already started." I commanded as I grabbed keys and my gun. I tossed the keys to Cho.

"Drive," I said. We hurriedly got in the SUV and were off. I called him over and over again. I had to try, no matter how futile my attempts. After every phone call unanswered, I said a prayer. How ironic. Patrick Jane, the man who has no belief in any afterlife whatsoever was the jolt and life altering occurrence that had me praying with full sincerity again. I made a mental note to thank him for that if he was still alive. And then I'd tell him off.