Chapter 1

A/N: So I've never had two stories going at once, but I just couldn't get this out of my mind.

Summary: What if there was no Red John; what if there was just Red Jane? Spoilers for the season finale.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

His eyes flashed red as he stared down at her, "You try to stop me and I—I-- you will regret it." She watched, eyes wide with shock but only allowed her anger to protrude through. "Are you threatening me?" She pulled back slightly. He pulled a hand down his exhausted face, "Teresa, he's mine. Red John's mine!" He was now growling and pointing a fierce finger at her. If she was completely honest with herself she would admit she was a more than a little fearful of him. "I've had it with you and your egotistical crap! I'm done with it." She turned on her heels and stormed away in her vehicle, leaving him there slightly regretful. Why did so suddenly care what this woman thought of him? Why was he pushing her away just to keep her safe? Why did he care? Jane pushed those thoughts away, he had to remain focused. His chance was finally near, he could taste it. He got into his vehicle and drove off. He knew where Red John would be. It was just a matter of minutes…

Jane cautiously ventured into the basement of the abandoned house. He had a gun as his only defense. He simply had "borrowed" it from the Department. "Where are you Red John?" he called out loud, "This is it, there's nowhere else to run! Instead of being a coward, why don't you come out and finally face me, huh? No more of your pawns, just me and you." He waited as dead silence engrossed him. Finally he heard some scuffing noises, hardly even audible. Spinning around on his heels he turned to come face to face with what he thought was Red John but was really just his own reflection. Or so he thought before astoundingly the man starting talking.

"Jane, so you've finally done it." The man may have physically looked like Jane but there was no mistaken that sinister gleam in his eyes and that devious smile that played at the corner of his lips. This man truly had the image of a cold-hearted murderer. Jane remained silent. What was he supposed to do? He closed his eyes, vowing it was a dream, but when he reopened them the man was still there, smirking at him. "Who are you?" Jane managed to choke out.

"Who am I?" he smirked, slowing nearing Jane, "Can't you tell? I'm you." Jane opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. "Jane, Jane, Jane. Do I have to spell it out for you? You know, for a successful former fraud of a psychic, you aren't very keen. I'm Red John. Uh-- let me rephrase that. We are Red John. Couldn't have done it without 'ya buddy."

"This isn't happening. I'm just tired, lack of sleep. That's all," Jane spoke quietly to himself. Red John frowned and stopped circling Jane, "You know, you really shouldn't talk to yourself. People might think you're crazy." He then exploded with laughter and began circling Jane again. "Go away! You aren't real. Why won't I wake up?!"

"This isn't a dream Patrick," Red John's voice now displayed anger, "This is for real. We are Red John, we killed our wife and child and all those others. Us! Together!"

"No. Shut up!" Tears were now streaming down his face.

"That greedy little bitch wanted more, always more! It was never enough for her! Stop believing that happy family shit you've been feeding yourself for years now! She made us miserable. We were never at peace with her! She deserved it! Eh, so the little girl was the "magician's distraction", so what? We're so much more at ease now that the bitch is gone aren't we?!"

"SHUT UP!!" Jane growled as he raised his gun to the man and released five shots. He closed his eyes as the fog left from the gun was vanishing and slowly, daringly he opened his eyes. What he found made his breath catch in his throat. He was still there. He was standing there as he was before, unfazed.

A few minutes later…

"Jane?" Teresa called through the basement as she descended cautiously. "Jane, Jane are you here?" She walked down the flight of steps after immediately her eyes fell upon the man crouching in a corner. She quickly surveyed her surroundings checking for anyone else, or more specifically, a dead Red John. Her eyes once again caught his figure in the corner. He seemed distant, lost and vacant. She cautiously stepped towards him but was stopped with his words, "Don't—don't come any closer, please, I don't want to hurt you." Lisbon studied him for a moment, "Jane, you could never hurt me, what are you talking about?" His response was a dry chuckle that held no humour.

"Where's Red John?" "Was he even here?"

When he didn't answer she stepped closer to him.

"You're looking at him." His words were heard but her heart and mind were denying it. "Jane, what are you talking about?" she was getting nervous now, adrenalin pulsating throughout her entire body. That was when he turned his face to look at her.

"I am Red John, Lisbon. Always have been."

She took a conscious step back. "What do you mean? That—that doesn't make any sense— "

"Yes it does." He was standing now. "Think Lisbon, think. I'm not well, I never should have been released from that psychiatric hospital." She stared at him lifelessly and he continued. He explained about his double personality, otherwise known as Red John. He explained how he, Red John, returned home and murdered his wife and child. He explained how after they were dead his state of mind flipped back to Patrick Jane, ignorant to the events he'd just committed. He further explained how Red John murdered those other women for enjoyment, how he took over when Patrick couldn't manage, how he pried the nurses into thinking he was "fixed", acting it all as Jane when he was really Red John. He explained how he unexpectedly and gradually fell in love with her.

During his confession Lisbon had remained quiet even as silent tears trailed down her cheeks, and after he was finished neither moved. He was still standing facing her and their eyes bore into the other. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes again and Jane's eyes started welling up. She shakily walked up to him with him watching her every move. She nervously placed a shaking hand to his cheek and she felt him lean into her. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, and finally let the tears fall. She cupped the back of his neck with her other hand and slowly brought his face to hers. Their lips were so close, barely brushing each other's and she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I love you Patrick," she whispered against his lips, her eyes on his half closed ones. Lisbon slowly brought his lips to hers. It was soft and sweet at first and they both released droplets of tears from behind closed eyes. Their kiss mixed with tears quickly became more passionate. Jane moved his sweaty hands to her hair and grasped pulling her closer. Lisbon desperately clutched at the back of his neck with her hands until there was no imaginable distance between them. Their tears increased with the rate of the kiss. Her lips were sure to be bruised when they were done, but she didn't want to think about that. All that mattered was them, here and now and this kiss; not the few minutes they had left with each other. He let his tongue brush along her bottom lip and was pleased when she opened her mouth for him. Their tongues began a fierce battle as their mouths pushed against the other.

Finally they broke apart breathless. "I love you too… so much," Jane spoke hardly audile. They laid their heads together, they foreheads touching, as they gazed into each other's eyes. Hot, beady tears strained down the sides of their faces. This was it, their time was now over and it was back to reality. Shortly later Lisbon untangled her hands from his neck and took a step back. Tears continued to fall down the sides of her face as she reached behind her back and pulled out a pair of hand-cuffs. "I'm sorry," she whispered and he nodded reaching forward brushing away a tear from her eye. He then turned around and she wordlessly slipped the cuffs onto his hands. She took out her cell phone and called back-up. When they arrived shortly afterwards, they took him away from her, leaving her alone in the vacant basement with nothing but the shredded remnants of her kiss with Jane and her thoughts. She could still feel his lips on hers, so warm, persistent and loving. She closed her eyes, mentally reliving the kiss over and over again. Tears spurted to her now swollen eyes again. She hugged her abdomen tightly and sank to the ground as sobs racked her fragile body.

~FIN~

A/N: I've been thinking of The Mentalist series finale and all the alternative endings, and this wouldn't let me go. I would hate if this ever did happen so I hope I'm not giving Bruno Heller any ideas, because I saw an interview with him thinking about the idea of Jane being Red John and this is how I thought it would play out. Thanks for reading and please review. Let me know if I should extend this and go into Jane in a psychiatric ward and how Lisbon is coping. Let me know. xxx Cordy.