A/N: I'm really sorry it's taken me this long to update! I've been getting a lot of schoolwork lately :( But I'm finally back, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review!


Chapter 2

That night, Jane lay awake on his mattress, processing the events of the past few days. The thought of sleep never even entered his head, with so much else to think about it just wasn't a priority. Not that he usually slept much anyway. The images that filled his mind every time he closed his eyes prevented that.

He felt a mixture of emotions, the most prominent of them being frustration. Lorelei was the only new lead he'd found after more than half a year of preparation. And now, even her insight was being kept from him. She was there, just sitting in an interview room at the CBI, and yet she was so far away. It was annoying how close he'd come to breaking down her barriers and convincing her to tell him something, anything. And now she was out of his grasp yet again.

But she had told him one thing. 'You've met him before. In person.' The words had circled around in his mind non-stop since he'd left the CBI. He knew Red John. He'd actually seen him, maybe even spoken to him. So many names, so many possibilities, and yet they all seemed just as ridiculous as the previous.

He'd always thought that the second he was in Red John's presence he would know. Instantly some strange realisation would come over him, and he would just know. It was a daunting prospect that this was not the case. For all he knew, he could have been passing him every day, in the street or at work, anywhere. Day after day, maybe even for years now, and he had never even noticed.

Endless encounters flashed across his memory, and he tried to decipher them all. Who acted strangely? Who seemed out of place? Who was the serial killer that had killed his family?

The sheer effort of questioning every aspect of his life wore him out, and he was forced to drop the subject. But this allowed the other emotions that were tumbling around inside him to resurface.

The guilt of the team's suspension, the disappointment of discovering his plan's failure, and the horror of staring at his boss's glazed, unseeing eyes. He shook his head to clear it, hoping for peace at last. But he knew it would never come. At least not until Red John was lying in the cold hard ground, unable to continue his tormenting.

Over and over again he pondered his actions and their consequences. What could he have done differently that might have changed this outcome? His head began to ache with the complexity of it all.

The early morning sun began to gradually creep through the curtains, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. Jane heaved himself up, walking over to the door slowly. He turned back around just before he left the room, staring at the red face that had haunted him for every moment, waking and sleeping, since he'd first laid eyes on it. It used to simply be a reminder of the horrible events of that day, an ongoing torture. But now it was more. Now it was a motivation to catch Red John. And kill him.

No matter the cost.

He heaved himself down the wooden stairs to the lower floor of the extravagant Malibu house. He had considered selling it many times, removing himself from the memories it held. But something stopped him every time. He felt that if he sold the house they had lived in together for so many years, would be selling away a part of them as well. It was ridiculous. He knew they had left him long ago, and he didn't believe in the nonsensical ideas of souls, ghosts or spirits. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to part with it. Whilst he was occasionally tempted to leave it all behind and start afresh, he knew he simply couldn't deal with that feeling of loss all over again.

Despite this, he had still removed every other object in the house that reminded him of them. The pictures on the walls, all of little Charlotte's toys, even the furniture he and Angela had chosen together. The house was completely devoid of any personal touches, anything that might cause him to relive the memories of the life he had lost.

Except for the box.

He moved across the room, past the kitchen and tableless dining room to the tall storage cupboard. He pulled open the large, white, wooden doors, then reached up to the very top shelf.

There, lay a cardboard box, tattered and dirty from years of decay. He placed it gently on the floor, as though it was the most delicate thing in the whole world.

Carefully he opened it, peering inside. His stomach churned as the objects inside brought back the painful memories he always tried to avoid. But, just like the house, he couldn't bring himself to part with these small mementoes of his family.

At the very top was a family photograph, taken not long before their deaths. They were hugging each other, Charlotte in the centre, smiling happily. This same smile was mirrored on the faces on her parents, completely unaware of the horrors all three would face in a matter of weeks. Charlotte wore a pale pink dress tied up with a satin ribbon, a matching one holding back her curly blond locks. Around her neck was the locket she'd received for her most recent birthday, in the shape of a heart and with a much earlier family portrait inside.

This locket was the next thing Jane pulled from the box. It was so tiny, the silver looking much duller than it had in the photo. He flicked it open with his fingernail, gazing sadly at the photo inside. Charlotte was much younger, only a few months old, though her face was still lit up by the cheeky smile she'd inherited from him. She was being cradled in her mother's arms, her father's hand in hers.

A single tear trickled down Jane's cheek, then another. He blinked them away stubbornly, though they were replaced with more. He fought against them for a couple of seconds, then gave in.

The next object was Angela's, the bracelet he had given her when they were just teenagers. He remembered the very first time he'd seen her. He'd been up the top of the Ferris wheel with his father, looking for new people to target with their cons. His binoculars had strayed, however, towards the far side of the fairgrounds.

She had sat on a bench, alone, head buried in a book. Her brother was a few metres away, throwing a tennis ball up in the air, then catching it again. He'd seen other kids his age around, but his father had always kept him from playing with them. "You need to practice" he'd tell him. "Playing is a waste of time." But this was different. She wasn't just another kid that he longed to play with. There was something special about her.

That afternoon he'd pick pocketed the bracelet from a woman whilst she sat watching the circus. He'd waited all night for his father to fall asleep, and then snuck out to the caravan he'd seen the girl enter earlier that day. He'd asked around and discovered that her grandparents were carny royalty, practically bosses of him and his father. And that her name was Angela.

Peering through the windows one by one, he found her sleeping next to her brother on a tiny yellowing mattress, a colourful patchwork blanket covering her delicate form. He tapped gently, and she rolled over in her sleep. He tapped again, and this time she opened her eyes. She started with surprise when she saw his face pressed up against the glass, but got up when he motioned for her to come outside.

They'd talked for most of the night, both grateful for the other's company. When the sun began to creep over the horizon, and they finally decided to get some sleep, he'd given her the bracelet. She'd blushed happily, kissing him on the cheek when they parted ways.

Every night since that day, they'd spent together. Her grandparents hated him, saying he was a bad influence. His father hated her for distracting his money-maker from practice. In the end they'd run away from the life they'd both resented.

He was jolted from his thoughts by the sudden sound of the doorbell, echoing loudly through the empty house. Hurriedly he placed his treasures back in their box, wiped the remainder of the tears from his eyes, then went to answer the door.

"Hey Jane" Lisbon greeted him as he opened the door. She was dressed much more casually than usual, in jeans and a grey t-shirt, her hair flowing past her shoulders.

"Oh, hey" he answered, though he was significantly less enthusiastic. He still felt guilty for the team's suspension, and he suspected the others wouldn't be quite as forgiving as Lisbon.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

He nodded in reply and followed her outside.


They took Lisbon's car, remaining silent for the majority of the journey.

"Where are we going?" Jane asked as they travelled further and further from his house.

"To a nice little café not far from here. I thought you'd like some eggs for breakfast" she replied with a smile.

"Yum, I love eggs" he commented cheerfully, though he knew something else was going on.

"Why are you really here?"

She sighed, wishing that for once he'd just go along with her plans, rather than questioning them constantly.

"Look Jane, a lot has happened in the past few days. I just thought you might like to talk about it." she told him, hoping he would agree.

Unfortunately Jane did not agree. "What is there to talk about?" he asked, a false expression of confusion on his face.

"Come on Jane, you know full well what there is to talk about. Please" she begged.

As they pulled up outside the café, Jane gazed out the window. Lisbon got out and started walking up to the entrance, turning to look at him expectantly. He obediently followed her, though his reluctance was evident.

They were seated by a waitress at a small two seater table by a window. Lisbon ordered herself a mug of coffee and Jane a cup of tea as he stared out at the traffic rushing past. He fiddled with the fork in front of him as he watched, avoiding her eye.

"Jane" she called, to get his attention. He pretended not to hear, for a moment, continuing to stare obliviously into the distance, though eventually he gave up and turned to her.

"Mmm-hmm" he mumbled, eyebrows raised questioningly as if he didn't know what she wanted.

"Please talk to me" she begged once again. "I know you're frustrated about what happened with Darcy, and how annoyed you are that you can't question Lorelei, but you mustn't do anything stupid. In about a month, when the team's suspension is reviewed they'll rethink your firing too. Hopefully we'll all get back to work, and then we can deal with Lorelei properly."

"If she's still alive" he said under his breath. .

"Come on Jane. They have maximum security watching her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week" Lisbon reassured him. "They're well aware of what happened to Red John's other accomplices. Todd Johnson and Rebecca's deaths won't be repeated. They wouldn't let that happen a second time."

'They had them under maximum security too" Jane pointed out sceptically

"Please Jane, have a little faith. The CBI will do their very best to protect her. They want her alive almost as much as you do. We all want to catch Red John. It would be impossible for anyone to sneak in unnoticed"

"Except for the fact that he almost definitely has a spy in there already" Jane reminded her. "He lost Rebecca, so he got O'Laughlin to get closer to our team. I bet you the second O'Laughlin was shot he was plotting to place another mole in the CBI. That's provided he didn't have another spy there already. Or ten for that matter" Jane ranted miserably.

"I know, I know, I don't want to take that risk either. But we just don't have a choice right now" she said, pleading for him to understand. "There's nothing else we can do. We just have to wait and hope."

"Do you realise how ridiculous you're being? " Jane practically cried. "Red John is not going to risk his safety, his identity, for something like this. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He'll send one of his disciples to kill her regardless of any protection she's given. Nothing we do will stop him from trying to eliminate her, she's threatening his whole existence. He'll just send follower after follower until one of them kills her."

"Just because he tries doesn't mean he'll succeed" Lisbon attempted to remain positive, but even she had to admit, Jane had a point.

Jane rested his head against his hands, defeated.

"Please promise me you won't do anything stupid Jane. I know how desperately you want to talk to her, but you're risking too much" Lisbon tried to reason with him. "Even if you manage to find out something from her against Darcy's will, we won't be able to act on it without serious consequences. I can't ask the team to put their jobs on the line again. I'm surprised Darcy was so lenient this time, but if any of us steps even slightly out of line again she won't hesitate to fire us for good."

"I could just find him on my own" Jane suggested, and the look on Lisbon's face made it clear this was exactly the proposition she had feared.

"Do I even need to go into the reasons why that wouldn't be a good idea?" she sighed. "Red John is incredibly experienced in what he does. You, on the other hand, have only ever used a gun a couple of times in your life. The odds are against you Jane, it wouldn't end well. And we're not going to get any closer to him if he kills you. If anything we'll be much further away."

"Yes, but if I take him by surprise, I'll have the upper hand" Jane justified.

"But you won't have the upper hand" Lisbon explained exasperatedly. "He knows after coming so close you'll be even more determined to find him. Plus, as you said before, he's got plenty of spies to monitor your every move."

A waitress brought around their drinks, though neither even registered them, too intent on convincing the other that they were being absurd.

"But Lisbon, you don't understand. I don't have a choice" Jane continued. "He killed my family. I can't let this opportunity pass. This might be my last chance, and I'm not going to risk that. I'm going to do everything physically possible to speak to Lorelei, even if it means putting my job, and my life, on the line. But I won't ask you and the team to help me. I need to do this on my own, none of you can get hurt."

As the waiter came around to collect their meal orders, Jane rose, storming past him determinedly towards the door, leaving his now cold tea completely untouched.

"Jane, wait!" Lisbon called as she hurried after him. He didn't turn, instead heading towards her car. For a second she wondered what he was doing, he didn't have any keys, and his car was back at his house. But as her hand reached into her jacket pocket, and she felt nothing inside, she realised what was going on.

"Stop Jane!" she cried louder as he climbed into the driver's seat. She ran up beside the car just as it drove away. She ran her fingers through her hair, horrified to even consider what he was planning to do. Whatever it was, she knew the outcome would not be good. Most likely it would be disastrous.