Red John likes fire.

Flames never stand still; they flicker, they blaze, they consume things down to ashes.

He loves change and destruction alike, just like he loves watching the light go out in his victims' eyes.

Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright, he whispers softly between himself, and then he's gone.

Patrick Jane is frozen in time.

His smiles and jokes are just a way to disguise how cold and empty he feels inside.

He can't move on until he's taken his revenge, and maybe not even then.

Red John is mine, he says and walks away without a backward glance.