Van Pelt was going to talk to him. Some people might think she was just putting off a hard task, but she knew she was looking for the perfect time to do it. The thing with Jane was you had to pick your battles, and this was a battle she had let simmer for far too long, now others were starting to pick up on it. That's when it became a bad thing - when others started to see it. She thought Patrick Jane was a great consultant and even thought of him as one of her best friends. She just hoped he knew and understood. Yeah, today was the day she would talk to him. Grace knew the signs. He was always somewhere else... in a world of his own making even in a room full of people. But he was losing focus, he came to work more disheveled than ever. Truth be told, she couldn't imagine how a man in his situation got up every day and didn't put a bullet in his head. He didn't though, he came and he played games with them, he solved cases when no one else had a clue, he was fantastic at what he did. That was why she loved him, and she knew that someone had to help him. Someone had to help him before he died like her sister. She couldn't take another loss like that it would destroy her simply because she knew and this time she could do something.

Rigsby knew. He knew, and he almost had it narrowed down to Jane's poison of choice. He knew Jane was an alcoholic although he hid it well. But Rigsby knew an alcoholic when he saw one and Jane had a very real drinking problem. Although most people would laugh it off if he ever said so, because it wasn't your typical problem, he didn't have a drink in the morning to help him get to work, and more drinks at lunch. He knew Jane rarely dropped in to a bar on his way home. And, he didn't think Jane staggered through his door at night and had more to put him to sleep. No that wasn't his problem, he was a binge drinker, he would get totally shit-faced drunk to the point where he passed out and would stay that way for a week or ten days. But there was more now. Jane was becoming worse and it showed way more than his drinking ever did. A part of Wayne knew the answer but he didn't want to think Jane would go there. Belladonna. It was no secret Jane had accidentally ingested some at a crime scene recently and then was on a trip like no other for the rest of the day. Stealing an ambulance and talking to gnomes. Wayne had learned all about the risks from working narcotics. Jane made a mistake in the beginning, but then that mistake had turned into a good friend. Honestly, he's my best friend, but he's a walking time bomb and I'm going to have to pick up the pieces when it explodes. I'd pick up pieces but I'd rather see him quit all this. Not just because we work together but because he is my friend. I take care of my own.

"We're up." Teresa Lisbon announced walking into the bullpen with her cup of morning coffee.

"Jane's not here yet." Van Pelt explained.

"I texted him the address, he said he was close and he'd meet us there." She said exiting the bullpen, knowing they would follow.

Patrick Jane sat outside the address Lisbon had texted him, way too scared to get out of the car. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking and every time he looked at his face in mirror, all he saw were the eyes of a crazed man staring back. He needed to get it together fast. Jane knew this house, it was a small house, right up the street from the larger house where he once lived with his family. Even worse than the proximity to his family's home, he knew this house. He knew it well and so he was afraid of what awaited him behind those doors.

Teresa and her team entered the house from the back entrance. She had called Jane once more and he told her he would be along shortly. She couldn't help but notice how the house had more expensive things inside than what she was expecting. The family obviously came from money, and their home while furnished with the best was also very warm and inviting. It just screamed come in, sit down and stay awhile. Well, that was until you saw the body of a young girl lying in the middle of the floor.

Ashlyn Mayer was about sixteen years of age. It looked as if she must have surprised him as she came from the shower because she was still wearing a towel. He had stabbed her in the lower abdomen. Lisbon looked around to see if anything was stolen, the tv was obviously gone and there was a place in the corner where a computer probably had sat. She took out her phone again to text, Jane still hadn't gotten there and she needed him for this.

As Patrick entered the house through the front entrance he tried to think of the last time he had come here. It had to be Ash's eighth birthday He had told himself the whole day he wasn't going to go, the invite had been a surprise, he didn't think anyone knew he had come back from his "vacation" but the Mayers knew. He knew it was probably because of one of Angie's friends or, god forbid, his mother but the Mayers had invited him just the same. He came and even did a couple of magic tricks for all the kids. But, as he looked into the crowd there was always one face he kept looking for, a face he knew would never be there but he just couldn't stop himself from hoping. After the party and dropping off the gift, he told Ash's mother to never invite him again. He still sent a check every year but he hadn't seen the little girl since. And now, now he stood over her body, and it broke his heart.

"Thank goodness I thought I was going to have to send out a search party for you. Are you alright?" Lisbon asked.

"Just fine." Jane answered, as he bent down to get a closer look.

He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he didn't know if that was because of the drugs making his mind a little foggy, or if he honestly couldn't put together any clues. He was having a hard time because every time he looked at the carpet, he remembered sitting on the very same carpet many Saturday nights playing with the children. The weave of the carpet was exactly the same... the colors of the carpet were the same... the pattern was the same... he seemed now to be literally drowning in this carpet.

Teresa was on her way to talk to a Billie Anderson, who was Ashlyn's best friend and who had discovered the body, when the mantle caught her attention. There were pictures of the little girl as she grew up, she was quite pretty as a young girl. In all the pics when she was really young, a small brunette stood beside her, but later the brunette became blonde. There was something familiar about her face and then when she got to the fifth picture her heart stopped. It was Angela Jane with Charlotte on her lap and, oh my god, he knew them and had no business at all being here.

"Jane!" she shouted catching not just Jane's attention but also the attention of everyone else in the room.

"We need to excuse ourselves from this case right now, you are on their mantle in freaking family photos!" she exclaimed.

"That's why I have to work this Lisbon. I can't believe Ash is gone. I have to find out who did this for Mark and Chelsea, where are they anyway?"

"No one knows, we're trying to track them down. Apparently she's home alone a lot. She always had a friend with her though so she wasn't entirely alone."

"Fantastic parenting right there. Two girls home alone to get butchered while mom and dad are away at the spa."

"Jane you can't say things like that!"

"I can when I know it's true. Where's the friend? I wanna talk to her!"

"She's pretty shaken up, Van Pelt took her out back so she could gather her bearings after finding the body. Be nice, we have no proof she did this so show a little compassion."

"That girl in there was Charlotte's best friend. If this girl did it, I'll know the moment I lay my eyes on her."

"Well how about you look from here." Lisbon asked as she gestured toward a window.

Patrick Jane looked out the window and his whole world started spinning. Right before him was a short blonde with wavy curly hair. It was like he was back in his trip, she even had on the purple plaid shirt and jean shorts like in his Belladonna induced hallucination. She was real though because Lisbon had pointed right at her. Had he lost it? All of a sudden the room started to spin, the carpet became a spinning vortex of color and pattern, it drew him in and he was truly drowning. He lost consciousness before he hit the floor - hard.