Two things that Jane likes to do: Stating the obvious & giving running commentaries. Even in the back of an ambulance, he was no different. He didn't say anything about the amount of pain that he must have been in. I've seen him feign illness & death before but I've never seen him react to real pain. We don't react because we're cops and we're supposed to know how to deal with it. Jane is possibly the first civilian I've met on the job who also doesn't react to pain. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

So he's in the stretcher & being lifted into the ambulance, guess what he tells me before he passes out? If I told you that he said "tell Lisbon that I love her", would you believe me? Yeah, you're right. He didn't say that. He didn't need to. But what he did say was "Cho, treat her good." I knew immediately that he wasn't talking about Lisbon. He was referring to Summer. How on earth, he knew that Summer was back in town is beyond me.

Sometimes I wish that he really was psychic. It would actually be much easier for me to accept his random remarks (which are usually spot on, no matter how annoying they are) if he were more "spiritually aware" than it is for me to accept them, knowing the truth: the bastard is about as spiritually aware as a Chihuahua. Jane sees things that no one else sees & being Jane, he's not afraid to say the things that no one else will say.

I have to go.

You're just saying that to get rid of me.

No I mean it, I do have to go.

You're not leaving this room.

Summer, this is my apartment.

I don't care.

If you don't move, you're going to have blood on your hands.

You don't care about me at all, do you?

That's not fair.

Six months! No calls. Not even an email.

Hey, I didn't hear from you either.

Yeah, you wanna know why!

Why?

Because... because I was afraid of what I was going to hear.

And like she does every time at this point of the conversation (okay, "conversation" is putting it mildly), she's crying. Summer wasn't putting on a show. Although, Jane could make himself cry when he was perfectly happy, Summer didn't have the skill. She could lie, cheat and steal; but she could not cry without feeling real emotion.

"What did you think you were going to hear?" I asked her as she went from punching my shoulder to sobbing in it.

"That you had moved on. That you'd forgotten about me and you wished that I had never existed." She went on.

For a girl who was supposed to be out of breath from crying and yelling her lungs out, she sure had a lot of words to say.

"I don't wish that you didn't exist. I do miss you. But I will have to leave you now." I told her calmly. "My friend, Patrick, he's in real trouble. I have to help him." I avoided using his surname in case Summer thought that I was talking about a girl, which would start her screaming and punching and crying all over again.

Ten minutes later, after assuring her that I would come back (this was my apartment after all; it's not like I'm going to sleep on the street or anything), I settled her down in my couch and left the building.

I got into my car and sped. Part of the irony of being a cop is that you get to know every trick on the road so that even when you're supposed to be catching bad drivers, you end up driving just like them – only, you know how to not get caught better than they do. I'm the fastest on our team. Jane is almost as fast but he can't pull some of the moves that I can (mainly because he doesn't want to dent his Citroën). Rigsby is the fastest on foot but he's a lot less fluid than I am behind a wheel. Lisbon is... she prefers to be more law abiding with her driving. Van Pelt drives well but she's not very good at pulling the moves; however she's much better at following other vehicles than I am. So if you want to get somewhere fast, you should come with me but if you want to stalk a suspect, you should get in the car with Grace.

I got to the part of the forest where they were supposed to rendezvous with the killer. Van Pelt had made it clear that Jane was going to require professional help (when I asked her how she knew, she told me not to ask). I couldn't reach Lisbon on her phone and Jane wasn't answering his cell either (See if you can guess what he says on his message bank. Okay, whatever you were thinking before, it's worse than that. Before you get carried away, though, it's actually very simple message: he just says "don't leave a message because I won't call you back if you do"). So based on Van Pelt's advice, I called the ambulance as I sped up the highway, giving them the coordinates to the part of the forest where Jane had predicted the murder was most likely to have been committed. Getting the killer to come back to the crime scene was a favourite trick of Jane's.

A/N: Next Chapter will have Lisbon speaking.