A/N: Mentalist kick! Sheesh! I'd like to give a nice, hearty shout out to wimmer511—best review ever on my latest story, Unchained—not that I don't love all my reviewers—but hopefully this makes up for my lack of Cho. I loved it; you can bring on the long reviews all you like! I'm glad I can inspire emotion and keep it real, even for those who may not become emotionally attached to a story—I get attached quickly—it's a personal fault of mine. [clearly, I'm not a fan of AU unless the universe is an AU in the first place, i.e. Fringe—I've always been this way.] The lyrics are 'The Truth' by Handsome Boy Modeling School, listen too this, seriously, it was featured in Person of Interest, 1.O2.

**No plan, just…randomness…that will eventually morph into a plot. This may also be updated a bit more sporadically than my other stories as I'm working more.

We're Painting The Roses Red

If happy times are too few and far between

It's a pity dear; we can't erase the things we've seen

So disappear, vanish if you wish

Just go before you're swallowed up by bitterness

The fall of Red John was swift in the end.

Lorelei, having been hidden away in FBI witness protection, had spilled her guts after months with no one to speak too, without Jane to have following at her heels, without Lisbon to torment in her own twisted way. Broken by silence. It was ironic.

He'd been easier to find than they anticipated. All his wealth and money could only buy him out of so much. It couldn't help him buy his way out of kidney failure.

It was almost unjust in Jane's eyes to kill a dying man. He'd done nothing but laugh manically at the strange turnabout. It was a lot like milking a cow, leaving the milk, and then taking the cow with you. Silly and circular.

Lisbon made sure that Red John lived out his final days in agony. She had sway, so to speak, of her own. Prison medical equipment was not known for its efficiency, after all.

No rest for the wicked and all that.

At Red John's behest, he required the full constituency of people he had wronged to be in attendance as he died of his natural causes. No one quite knew why. It certainly was not for penance. He spoke not a word.

It was a full house that watched him gasp his last few breaths; so many ruined families, so many affected by one solitary man. The team had come as well, Grace the most possessed by the sight before her. Jane had grasped Lisbon's hand so tightly through the ordeal she thought he'd break it. Her knuckles were sore, her moral conscious wavering in the wake of what she considered karma.

It took Red John four hours to die.

They worried, often, about the roles of his minions. Would they come, flooding out of the proverbial woodwork to seek revenge for their departed leader? No. And Jane and Lisbon both knew it. His flock scattered like frightened sheep.

It was over.

So the inevitable question, the one that worried Teresa Lisbon, was invariably: what came next?

She was not a diehard romantic. She'd lost too much and seen the carnage of what being a diehard romantic did to women and men alike. It was silly of her to believe that maybe Patrick Jane would suddenly turn a new leaf and profess his unrequited love for her.

Silly, yes. But a girl pushing forty could dream.

She'd told him to take some time, after watching him stare into space for two hours; while he was often erratic, he usually mulled over a case file, a word or a phrase, the Elvis stain that remained above his head, even a book that Cho was reading. His gaze today…it was different.

Empty.

He had not said much. His actions spoke volumes. It was his rare display of physical affection that should have tipped her off. As the time in her office before, nearly a year or more ago, he'd clutched her too him, and this time it was hard for him to let her go. He had no reason too, after all, no impending threats upon her head or reasons he'd get her killed.

She was tense for a long moment, before relaxing in his embrace. She was glad she'd drawn the blinds earlier; friend or not, she was not one to make an intentional spectacle of herself. It was bad enough rumors of them were not contingent on what others had seen, but made-up and fabricated at the water cooler.

She felt loss when he pulled back. The warmth gone. He took in her lovely face, as if memorizing every angle, committing every line and dimple while he could, winding one of her dark curls around his finger absently and remembering the smell of cinnamon and a hint of strawberry. He leaned in carefully, placed a lingering kiss just to the corner of her lips.

"You've always been good to me Teresa. I didn't deserve it. And I didn't deserve you," He whispered almost inaudibly.

He said nothing more, leaving her speechless as he bowed out of her office. Teresa didn't know, at the time, he was bowing out of her life.

XOX

A week was what she'd considered he would take.

Two was, possibly, a given after everything.

After a month she was concerned.

After three…she stopped trying.

If his stint in Vegas had taught her anything, it was that he could cut his ties and leave her after all. And once again she felt herself falling away. She was not sad; this time, anger coursed through her at his flight.

Her final message left to him was one of defeat: I can't forgive you for this, Patrick. Not again. I'm letting you go.

XOX

"Uh-oh," Grace said quietly. "Guys, I think we have a case."

"How do you 'think' we have case?" Cho queried, straight-faced; a copy of Anna Karenina lay open on his lap.

"You know how I flag certain criminals or flight risks that deal with cases? Well we've seen this name before…" she began, typing quickly before turning the laptop to face her colleagues. "Recognize her?"

Rigsby shook his head before casting a second glance at the ever increasingly familiar woman. "No way…"

Cho knit his forehead together. "Is that…?"

"Erica Flynn," Grace said, a bit surprised herself. "The siren seductress, alive, in the U.S. and in the flesh."

"We should call—" Rigsby began, pulling out his cell.

Cho grabbed the phone from his friend, shaking his head. "No. He's gone. He's not a part of this anymore. Besides," Cho chanced a glance at their boss, noting her depressing state that seemed to worsen on the day to day. "The boss has enough on her plate and her mind these days. We'll handle this." His words left no room for argument amongst the little team of three.

XOX

He knocked twice, curt and quick.

The door opened swiftly. The smell of breakfast tea and eggs washed over him. Jane stepped aside, allowing the tough, stoic Asian man into his [new to him] home.

"Cho. What brings you here?" Jane asked casually.

"Nice digs," Cho commented, briefly glancing around the spacious apartment that was far better than his. "We need to talk."

Jane's head bobbed. "Well then, we also need tea," Jane replied with a tight, foreboding smile.

When they were seated at his dinner table, tea in hand and eggs untouched, and Cho staring menacingly at him he knew what would come next.

"I'm not coming back."

"Did I ask you too?" Cho questioned plainly. "Why me, Jane? Why tell me you were here? Why stay here?"

Patrick sipped his tea, sighing heavily. "Because I trust you to say nothing. As for why I stayed…I can't give you an answer Cho," said Jane earnestly.

"You don't have to. I only asked to be polite. I know," the Asian man said with a shrug.

"What is it, exactly, that you think you know?" Jane asked carefully.

"You stayed for her. You're just a coward. Hiding in your expensive ivory tower and pretending the unflappable Patrick Jane doesn't care. You're stupid too, but that's according to Van Pelt."

"Way to lighten the mood," Jane said with the raise of an eyebrow. "You would have done quite well as a fake psychic, you know." It was not a question, but a mere statement of fact.

Cho made a noncommittal noise.

"You didn't come here just to talk about Teresa. What do you want?"

"Erica Flynn is back."

Jane finished the last bit of his tea. "Well, now. Isn't that intriguing…"

XOX

And the truth is you can't hide from the truth

And the truth hurts because the truth is all there is

I realized some time ago that I would have to let you go…