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Some things are impossible to escape.

Craig O'Laughlin, my fiancé, the man I was going to marry on Saturday, was working for Red John! And Lisbon, my boss and friend, was down. Shot in the shoulder.

The training kicked in. Facing down the armed and dangerous. My arms locked, steady and unwavering as I sighted down my gun, dimly aware of Hightower beside me. O'Laughlin held my gaze. Calm. Deadly. "It's not your fault, Grace," he began, "I had grown genuinely fond of you." His words floated past me as I matched him breath for breath; minds, hearts and bodies locked together in perfect balance.

A gasp from the corner. A cushion flew into Craig's chest, breaking the stalemate as he reacted. I fired. Once, twice, three times. Hightower matched me bullet for bullet, synchronised as if this was a training exercise on the firing range. When the perp gives you an opening, you take it. Reflex. No consideration. No doubt. Not when lives are at stake. Hightower and I may have neutralised the treat but it was Lisbon, Lisbon who had saved us. Had forced the tipping point.

Craig crumpled to the floor, as his gun fell out of his grasp. Adrenaline drained from me like a sinkhole had opened up. The man I loved, the one I had promised the rest of my life to, lay dying, riddled with bullets. I sank to my knees beside him, reaching for his hand. My heart cried out to comfort him, to hold him as he slipped away, surrounded by my love. My mind was in first aid mode – plug the holes, ease the shock – even though I knew it was pointless. And yet, his rejection burned. My hands fluttered as I reached for his cheek but couldn't do it. Tears had overflowed, dripping from my chin.

Craig's breathing was fast and shallow. I could see the effects of shock from the pain and the ex-sanguination. I was kneeling in his blood as I leaned over him, watching as his levels of consciousness plummeted.

For a moment, Craig rallied. He lifted his hand to my neck and instinctively I leaned into it, surprised when he grabbed the chain of the necklace he'd given me instead. His hand fell back under gravity, taking the broken necklace with it. The gold heart fell away. And O'Laughlin's life went with it. A few more stuttering beats and it was all over. I shook my head, confused. What had he just done? Was it his way of breaking our engagement?

"Van Pelt. Van Pelt." It was Lisbon's voice. "Grace. Look at me."

I looked up to see the boss next to me. Lisbon's body was contorted with the pain from her shoulder and her voice was weak, but the authority was still there.

"Grace. I'm sorry."

Wincing and locking her jaw as movement further disturbed her injury, Lisbon put two fingers to O'Laughlin's carotid pulse, to confirm what she must already know.

"It's over, Grace. He's gone."

I pulled his body into my lap and cradled him, rocking as I howled. Yet, for all the outward release, something deep inside had frozen. The outer layers were still there but the core of me was sealed off. Cauterised. Dead.

At some point, Lisbon must have dialled 911.

SACPD had arrived in force, along with the paramedics.

Lisbon was fading now. Giving into the agony as the need take charge was relieved from her. But still she looked to me.

"Grace, you're in shock. This is Bob. He's a paramedic. Let him help you."

As Bob reached out to me, I released Craig's body and stumbled to my feet. I let him support me as we weaved our way out to one ambulance, while Lisbon was loaded into the other. Trust the boss to refuse to leave without me.

I guess Hightower must have taken her kids and run. Can't say I blame her.

The next few hours didn't really register. Being poked and prodded in the hospital. Drugs to take the edge off. As if.

At least they had news about Lisbon now. They'd operated and it had gone well. They said I could go and see her, so here I am at the door to her hospital room. I don't understand though. Where are the guys? Cho and Rigsby should be here. And Jane should be stuck to Lisbon's side.

Lisbon is lying in her bed, propped up on pillows. She looks pale and drawn, like she has no fight left. Fragile. She must have been out of surgery awhile because she's not hooked up to the usual array of monitors. I can't help wondering how much time has really passed while I was out of it.

Lisbon smiles when she sees me but it's weak. Forced.

"Ah, Grace. Come on in."

Her voice is soft and laced with compassion. I've heard it before. It's her telling the family the bad news persona. Why? I mean. I know Craig is dead. I shot him.

I drag the plastic chair to her bedside and sit down, with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

"Okay…. What is it boss?"

Lisbon sighs and then steals herself.

"So, as you know, O'Laughlin is dead."

I nod, clenching my hands into fists. "And Hightower?"

"In the wind. With her kids. I assume she's doing OK…."

Well, that's a relief. I would hate for anything to happen to Mimi or her brother or her Mum.

"But, there were more deaths. Van Pelt, I have to ask you…. The SACPD who were guarding the gates. Were they OK when you and O'Laughlin arrived?"

"Of course," I reply. "I had a few words with them before they let us in."

But…. Oh God. No. "Craig, O'Laughlin, he went back for his phone. Before we reached the house."

The full extent of the bastard's betrayal opens up for me like a rift valley.

He wheedled his way in with me to spy on the team. We were guarding Hightower and I betrayed her and her family by bringing him with me. Red John's man. Then he murders the guards for his master and would have killed Hightower, her kids, Lisbon and I, if Lisbon hadn't reacted so quickly. The phone call she took. I bet it was from Jane.

But, this is serious. Not only did I fall in love with a con artist, I compromised my team and their safety and through my actions the operation fell apart. And then there are the guards. Two lovely men on a routine stake out, executed by the bastard I let in. Their blood is on my hands. Their blood and the suffering of those who mourn them.

I'm not fit to be a cop. I'm not fit to be anything.

I… I just can't process…. And guilt!

Lisbon has grasped my hand. Her injury is my fault too. And she could be dead.

"Van Pelt. Grace. Stay with me. Please."

She pauses for a few moments.

"I know that it is a lot to take in. That it's overwhelming. But you are not responsible for what that bastard did. Tell me you know that."

I nod. But who am I kidding?

"Van Pelt, I hate to say this, but there's more."

For the first time ever, Lisbon looks like she may cry. Now I find that it's me who is gripping her arm.

"I guess you noticed that Cho and Rigsby aren't here." She doesn't wait for confirmation. "That's because they're busy with the mess in Sacramento." She stops, inhales deeply, and then pushes on with determination. "Jane's in prison. He shot a man dead in a food court. Rumour has it that the DA's out for murder one."

Hell, I hadn't seen that coming.

"Red John?"

"Red John".

I don't know how long we just sit there.

A knock on the door. Abrupt.

Cho steps inside.

"Boss. Van Pelt." He looks at each of us in turn, game face in place.

Lisbon shifts again, looking at me.

"Van Pelt, I want you to collect your things and your paperwork and meet us back here. Cho is going to take you home. Is there anyone who can stay with you tonight?"

'"M'fine" I mutter as I slink from the room. I can hear Cho's succinct reply.

"I talked with her room-mate. She won't be alone. And what about you?"

I don't hear anymore. I'm sure boss gave him the brush off though.

I collect my things, paste on a smile for Lisbon and then follow Cho to the car. Belting up, I stare out of the window, noting the date on his discarded newspaper. What a way to spend your wedding day!