Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist or any of its related characters or topics. This is purely FANfiction!

AN1: Expect OC-ness, as with most fanfics :)

AN2: This isn't a spoiler-fic... all just a bit of a 'What if-' scene.

AN3: Have a listen to Ashtar Command's 'Into Dust' while reading this... such an amazing song! ...Enjoy!

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Something to believe in

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He smiled as Angela's parents took their seats opposite to him. Mrs. Ruskin had brought him some coffee. He obligingly took a sip, even though he hated coffee, to set them at ease. They were Angela's parents, after all. They were Charlotte's grandparents. He watches warily as they seem to relax and lean back into their seats.

"It's good to see you again, son," Mr. Ruskin said, barely managing a smile. The small smile meant a lot though, coming from him.

Patrick self-consciously ducks his hands under the table after setting the beverage down. He knew he was being blatantly guarded, but he knew they would understand.

"How are you doing?" Mrs. Ruskin asked, trying to sound as light-hearted as possible. This was difficult for her. Pretence was never her forte.

"Fine... " Jane answers, after a moment he finally adds, "I'm sleeping better... I haven't had nightmares the past few days..."

"That's good to hear!" she said and looked sincerely pleased. Such a kind-hearted woman. She was truly Angela's mother.

Patrick shifted in his chair trying, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable. "Well, Lisbon said the verdict will be in by next week," he stated.

"That's quite a wait, Patrick, are you sure you're alright with that?" Mr. Ruskin asked, his face showing his concern.

The young man shrugged, "There's nothing I can do about it."

"But... you finally... got him..." Mr. Ruskin said, clearing his throat, blinking rapidly. Relief is so similar to grief sometimes...

"I know..." Patrick said, a small smile forming on his lips.

"VISITOR HOURS ARE OVER!" the guard announced, walking into the Visitors area.

"We'll see you at the trial, Patrick," Mr. Ruskin said and patted the young man on the shoulder.

"We love you, son," Mrs. Ruskin said, leaning over and planting a kiss on his forehead. "You'll be alright."

Charlotte's grandparents were ushered out of the area, lead by the guards. The cell door was locked behind them with a loud clatter. He can't help wonder how strange it is, how the first real freedom he experiences in over five years is taking place in a prison. He picks up his polystyrene cup with both hands, sighing at the loud clanking the handcuffs on his wrists make. The handcuffs were chain-linked to his ankle-cuffs. A true criminal's binding.

Overall, it all was driving home the fact that he wasn't getting out of this one.

He was going to prison.

But, he knew... this is how it should end. He had finally fulfilled the goal that consumed him for over five years.

He had finally caught Red John. Caught Red John and made him pay for what he had done. To Angela. To Charlotte. His family. The only family he's ever had.

He could still remember washing the blood off his hands, drying them off on his pants before calling Agent Lisbon. The iron stench was strong in the room, but all his senses were dulled into a kind of peaceful bliss. The euphoria that comes when one had reached their ultimate goal. He could still remember the denial, the shock, the fear... her feelings clearly flooding her voice as she started screaming at him, asking him what he had done. And he answered her.

Twenty minutes later and his old apartment was raided by the CBI and he was taken in. He didn't even bother to resist. He had accomplished his goal and that was all that really mattered.

And he can't help but smile to himself as he replays his mother-in-law's words to him:

'You'll be alright'

He believed that.

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Thanks for reading!