I wish I owned something.

It was kind of poetic.

When you thought about it.

It was all kind of poetic.

The crime. The murder. The sacrifice.

It was perfect William Blake material.

Now all he had to do was make it happen.

XXX

She had to go back there.

Back there.

To the place she was born, the place she was raised.

To the place where she had experienced a virtual hell on Earth.

She had to go back to her own living hell.

XXX

Teresa Lisbon sat in her car.

She didn't move.

She didn't change.

She sat there, with her hands on her steering wheel, looking straight on, as if she were ready to pull off.

But she had reached her destination.

She had reached her torture hole.

She had reached her childhood home.

She had reached the home full of love, of joy, of early childhood memories that filled her with joy.

She had reached the home that she had been beaten in, the home that she had almost died in on several occasions, the home that haunted he, day after day, night after night.

The home that she still owned.

The home that she would do anything to get rid of.

The home that no one wanted.

The home with a history.

XXX

All was almost in place. He was ready to end her here. He was ready to take her life in the home that she was not supposed to leave. He was ready to right the wrong.

He was ready to end the thing that should never have been.

He was ready to fix his mistakes.

He was ready to get rid of her.

XXX

She couldn't do it. She couldn't go in there. She couldn't go into the house that she had been tortured in. She couldn't go into the house that was the centre of her nightmares. She couldn't go into the house that was tearing her apart, piece by piece, part by part. She couldn't go into the house that was ripping her apart for scrap metal. She couldn't go into the house that haunted her.

She just couldn't.

But she had do.

If she didn't, he would go to prison. If she didn't, her brother would end up rotting in prison for a crime that he didn't commit.

If she didn't, the house would win.

She had to.

That was all it was. A house. Not a home, although it had been a mighty fine one when it was. Not a memory, at least, not a good one. Not a place that people walk by and think "I would love to live there".

No. They didn't think that as they walked past. Even those who had just moved in knew the horrors of this house. Knew the things that had happened inside of it.

And so that was what it came down to. A house, not a home. A collection of bricks and concrete made into four walls and a roof. A bad memory.

And she had to go in there. She had to go in there for her brother. She had to go in there for all of her brothers.

She had to go in there to make sure the house didn't win.

XXX

Where is she? She's sitting outside.

Why isn't she coming? She's afraid. She's oh so afraid.

What do I do? You wait. You wait like you did with the others.

The house answered his questions. The collection of meaningless bricks that she hated to much answered Red John's questions.

And he was going to kill her.

He was going to kill the little girl that should have died in that car with her mother a few years off of 30 years ago. He was going to kill the girl that should have died every single time that her father hit her, that he smashed her against the walls of this house. He was going to kill the survivor.

He was going to kill the innocent little girl that she still was, despite all of the things that she had done.

He was going to murder the innocence.

XXX

It took all of her strength.

All of it.

It took all of her strength to tear her eyes away from the road. It took all of her strength to taker her hands off of the steering wheel and open the door. It took all of her strength to take each step. It took all of her strength to ignore the wandering gazes of the people who lived around the centre of her nightmares.

It took all of her being to put the key in the door.

It took all of her past, her present, and her future to turn the key.

It took all of her to open the door.

XXXShe was coming now. He could hear her. He could hear her erratic breathing as she tried to open the door. He could hear her careful calming methods as it cracked open, just a little. He could hear her mustering all of her emotional energy to take that first step through the door.

It was almost time now.

It was almost time to end her.

XXX

She had to be calm. She had to be totally and one hundred percent calm.

She had to be.

If she wasn't, this would go wrong. If she wasn't, she would make it two steps then run out of the door.

If she wasn't, the house would win.

Screw it.

She took a step.

One more.

She took another step.

And another.

And another.

She took more of those precious steps until she smelt the aroma of blood. The coppery metal scent of blood that filled her nose.

And even worse, the coppery metal decaying smell of blood that was decades old.

It all hit her in an instant. The memories, the smells, the sights. The memories.

And then it was real.

And then she saw him.

She saw him with his crooked smile.

She saw him with his dark teeth and tanned skin.

She saw him with his black vest and fat pants.

She saw him with that look in his eyes.

That look that meant she was going to get it.

That look that she dreaded, every day of every week, every week of every month, every month of every year for well over 7 years.

Her eyes showed her fear.

Her look gave her away.

Honest face, one of the things he was proud of in her. Her honest face.

Her honest face gave away her fear as she came face to face with a serial killer.

Her honest face gave her away as she came face to face with the serial killer that she had known since the age of infancy.

"Dad?"

A/N- I have some idea's for this, if you wanted me to add another few chapters, some flash backs maybe? But I'm not totally sure about it, so I won't continue until I get.. Lets say.. Five reviews? So pleassseeee review!

I used a few songs to inspire me for this chapter too;

The House will Win- OK Go

Monsters- Paramore

Madness- Muse

505- Arctic Monkeys

From the Ritz to the Rubble- Arctic Monkeys

Wrong- Depeche Mode

Low is a Height- Great Northern

Revelry- Kings of Leon.

Just wanted to give a little credit to those, but even if you don't like my music taste, please review!