A/N - I am adding this at the head rather than at the end, due to the drama this chapter sort of quickly throws into. As always, assume nothing and take everything at face value - as far as things that may or may not happen. Just for fun, the name McFadden means son of Patrick. I just thought it was funny! Thank you for the latest reviews! TenshiNanashi - you're very perceptive. ;) IdleCrush, yes, she does seem to be warming up to the idea of putting down roots. Penmenships, thank you so much! Late March, bless your heart!!! MasqueradeWitch and Blood Zephyr, thank you so much for your continuous reviews, they mean alot to me! Guys, feel free to let me know if you notice grammatical/spelling mistakes. I hope my lurkers will review soon, as well, so I can know what you think! And onto the chapter ...Whew, hang on folks.


Chapter 7 - Red Monday

"Good morning children." Patrick Jane uttered as he sauntered into the CBI, with an armful of croissants.

Lisbon looked up from her desk. "You're late."

"Oh," He muttered. "They had to bake the pastries, sorry."

He wasn't really that late at all, by about three or four minutes. What she really meant was that he hadn't just failed to be meticulously prompt, he hadn't shown up a few minutes early as per his usual routine. He mulled over her observation carefully, deciding that he should consider breaking the habit so as to not have her accustomed to it.

"Really?" She responded, with a hint of harmless sarcasm in her voice. "Did they grind the wheat too?"

"Ha Ha. You're very funny in the morning." He jested, placing the box of warm croissants on her desk. Why not set them there since she was decisively the most articulate at the moment?

"Hum, they look good."

"Glad you approve."

"Hey guys, what's up?" Wayne greeted the three, Jane, Lisbon and Van Pelt as he came through the door. He sniffed out food right away, heading over to Lisbon's desk and then frowning, turned up his nose. "Croissants?"

"Yes." Jane answered. "What?"

"Well, nothin …What happened to donuts or muffins?"

"More for me then." Cho shrugged, coming in from behind Rigsby. He snatched a pastry and then he frowned as well. "Where's the grape?"

"Grape what?"

Cho looked at Jane with the same straight face he used during interrogations. "The grape jelly. You had to ask?"

"Well, no, actually."

"Cho, there's some grape jelly in the fridge. Okay?" Van Pelt eventually blurted, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Then Rigsby pulled his phone from his pocket. "Yello."

He turned towards his desk, holding a croissant in his other hand. "Um, what? "

He turned around again, slowly, flicking a gaze over to Jane. "Uh, okay, well he's right here." He lifted a perplexed eyebrow, reflecting an acute expression of suspicion as he walked over to Jane and handed him the phone. "It's for you."

Jane mouthed 'Me?' as he pointed to himself and then took the phone in his hand. "Hello."

"Um, Hi."

"Corin." He beamed, nodding off to Rigsby and headed to his desk.

Rigsby watched him, jaw dropped. Just what was it about that man? He tells him to stay away from his sister and now Jane walks away from him talking to her on Rigsby's own cell phone.

"What's that about9?" Lisbon asked.

Van Pelt grinned mischievously. "That is Rigsby's sister calling Jane on Rigsby's cell."

"What?" Cho walked back in, clenching a half eaten donut.

"Cute." Lisbon smirked.

"Donut? Where'd ya get that?"

Cho stared at Rigsby and then shrugged. "Break room. No grape jelly. Oh, no more donuts either."

"Damn." Rigsby sighed, halfway to the break room.

Corin knew this phone call was going to be awkward, but she would try to work through it anyway. Something churned in her stomach when he said her name. "Um, Hi. I … Didn't know how else to reach you."

"Oh, that's okay." He shrugged. "Besides, it makes for good office gossip."

There was a moment of silence and then she drew a breath. "Okay, well …Wayne is coming over Sunday afternoon. He's going to grill out. Some steaks, chicken or hamburgers maybe …"

"Yes?" He was smiling again, knowing the question, but he was going to let her struggle with it.

"Abbie wanted to invite you to come."

"Oh." He trailed his finger along his desk, eyes twinkling. "Abbie wanted to invite me."

She rattled her fingers on her own desk, staring at the chalkboard a couple of minutes before she finally conceded. "I …alright … I'm inviting you."

"Are you?"

"You're gonna make this difficult aren't you?" Sure he was. He was the type who enjoyed making a person sweat a little.

To her surprise, he laughed, setting her on edge a little. "I'll be there." He agreed and then hung up the phone. She'd only just slipped the cell in her purse when it rang again. She checked the number, but didn't recognize it. "Hello?"

"Now you have my number." Said Patrick on the other end, and then there was a click.

She was unconsciously smiling when her students filtered in and it did not go unnoticed. She straightened herself, once she discovered the random glances bouncing back and forth between her and other students as they leaned in and whispered to each other.

Then she cleared her throat and addressed her class, catching herself occasionally stealing a glimpse at her purse.

Two-thirty could not have come fast enough, but when it did, she watched the room clear and then she swept her purse over her shoulder dashing through the door. She was halfway to her car when stopped by one of the professors who'd visited her several weeks ago, prior to meeting Wayne at the seafood restaurant.

"Good afternoon Miss Rigsby." He was tall and slender, the mustache under his nose looked more like a line drawn over his lip.

"Mr. McFadden."

"Miss Rigsby… Or, may I call you Corin?"

"Of course."

"Thank you. Corin. I understand your feelings, which you expressed quite adequately, and your concerns, while they may appear well founded, are not warranted. The board has considered mine and my colleagues recommendation, along with your experience, knowledge and education. They agree with us, your strengths greatly outnumber your weaknesses and I strongly urge you to rethink our offer."

Well, he hadn't beaten around the bush, had he? She thought to herself, while studying him intensely. He didn't know her. He didn't know why she'd kept herself from being involved with projects and job opportunities that might give her more exposure than she was willing to accept. Junior Assistant to the head of music and lead pianist in the orchestra was more than she'd have expected anyone to ever offer, given that, at face value, her credentials fell short of such a position. At least in her mind anyway.

"I know the high school has, and would, benefit extensively from you're knowledge and talent, but well, bluntly, why waste your time when you could be using the full extent of your abilities elsewhere? Don't answer that, you and I both know I'm right."

This was an offer anyone in her position would starve for. Not even touching on the fact that he wasn't a man known for revisiting a prospect. She'd been working under the radar for years, with various schools, making suggestions and helping them build their music departments. This was like a gold platter at her feet, her mind throbbed with the potential of such an opportunity.

"Maybe it's time you let go a little."

Damn, why was his voice in her head? But then, there was some truth to it, wasn't there? Abbie was happier than Corin had seen her in a long time. She'd made honor roll on her last report card, she was bonding with the other children and with Wayne too since they were living closer together now.

She relaxed her pose a little, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. "Okay, so if I say yes. If I agree, then what?"

"Then the board will see you Monday morning at 8 am. I'm sure you can make arrangements."

"Well I …I didn't …"

"Be prompt Corin, I don't make recommendations haphazardly."

With that Mr. McFadden left her standing in the parking lot, watching him leave. After a few minutes she left as well, jumping into her car and driving out into the intersection. School traffic was always something she tried to avoid, but she couldn't get out early enough this time.

She managed to get to Abbie before she was excessively late. She scooped her up and then drove directly to the house. They'd no time for visiting Apollo today, Wayne would probably be waiting for them.

They found him on the porch, slouched over on the swing and staring out through the yard. She pulled up, and got out.

"Uncle Wayne!" Abbie squealed, flying from the passengers side and into his arms.

"Heyas squirt, how was school?"

"I got a gold star today! The teacher put it up on the door!"

"Seriously? Was anyone jealous?"

"I think so." She nodded. "But I don't care."

"Sure you don't." He rubbed her head. "They can earn their own, right?"

Corin stepped up and leaned in. Wayne took her elbow as she pecked him on the cheek.

"Did you wait long?"

'Na," He answered. "Just got here a few minutes ago."

"Have you eaten anything? We've got some leftover spaghetti in the fridge. Salad, garlic bread."

"Sure, that'd be great!" He smiled. "After I fix the sink."

"You know, I can get a plumber if your arm is bothering you."

"Don't be ridiculous. The arm is fine. It was just a minor burn, no problem."

"Okay, I'm just sayin."

"Well, don't" With that, he was inside the house and skimming the floor until he'd reached the kitchen. He bent down and shoved himself under the sink. The repair only took about ten or fifteen minutes, and then he was washing his hands, anticipating filling his hungry stomach.

"Abbie's taking her bath." Corin announced. "Help me set the table. I'll warm this all up and she should be finished by then."

"Sure." He responded, grabbing plates from the cabinet. "So, I heard you invited Jane to come over on Sunday."

"Um, yea, I guess I did."

"Seriously? You invited Jane to come eat with us?"

She blinked confusion, raising herself from putting out the silverware. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Na. No problem at all, " He denied. "But I'm inviting Grace."

"Grace?"

"Well, yea, if you can invite Jane I can invite Grace … Right?"

This prompted a full blown laugh.

He rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "What?"

She ran into the kitchen when the microwave beeped, grabbed a couple of pot holders and delivered the spaghetti to the dining room table. "Well, Wayne. Boy, girl, boy girl? I mean it's gonna so totally look like a date."

"A date? No..." Not that he wouldn't have asked her on a date, he just, didn't quite know how. "Okay, well … Then I'll ask Cho to come too."

"Then you're gonna leave Theresa out."

"Fine, I'll just invite them all." He grinned. "How bout that?"

"What? Ow!" She stuck her finger in her mouth having accidentally touched it to the hot casserole dish.

"Yea, that's a great idea!" He concluded, getting the bread from the oven. "We'll have them all over! "

"Wait …Hang on … We?"

"What? Oh come on, it'll be fun! We'll eat and then watch the game."

She wanted to remind him that this was her house, but she was reminded, instead, that he was the one who helped her get it. Everything on the market was far beyond her budget, but he'd managed to make some connections. It was a perfect house for her and Abbie, and she could hardly say no to Wayne when they were face to face.

Besides, Abbie would soon join the two of them and then they would tag team her. She sighed, shook her head and then agreed. "Alright. Invite them all …Hey, invite the whole California PD!"

'Now, don't be like that." He said kissing her on the head. "It'll be fun, and we'll all have a good time. Don't worry, there'll be no messes."

"Right."

Saturday rolled by lazily. She and Abbie shopped for groceries, cleaned the house and of course spent some time at the stables. She couldn't lie to herself whenever they were there. Apollo had done more for Abbie than she could have ever imagined. And knowing how much it meant to her, Corin felt a little guilty denying the child for this long. After all, she, if anyone, could relate to being restricted from doing the things she loved the most. This was something she'd been adamant about, never imposing on her future children's interests. Then, as if fate were laughing at her, she found herself doing that very thing to Abbie. Not something she'd found palatable by any means.

They left the stables by late afternoon, and returned home. Corin worked on papers while Abbie watched television. The phone rang. Grace called to see if she could bring anything, but Corin told her just to bring herself and that would be enough. Never in a million years would Corin have thought she'd be hosting any kind of social event, but now, here she was, getting more domesticated by the hour.

Saturday melted into Sunday. Mother and daughter spent a good part of it making another sweep to be certain the house was in order, and they had everything they needed.

Wayne appeared an hour early to setup the grill before the guests arrived. Which they did, all promptly, except for Cho, who slid in a few minutes later than the rest of the group. He apologized and then reintroduced himself to Corin, sticking out his hand. "Hi, I'm Ken."

"Yea." She laughed, sliding her hand in his. "I … Have a vague recollection. The view's a little better now."

He laughed, and she noticed how when he did, his face sort of glowed. An odd contrast to the straight face he was carrying when he first walked in.

Disregarding Corin's previous objections, no one came empty handed. Both Ken and Patrick brought a bottle of red wine. Grace brought a dessert and Teresa potato salad. Wayne had snagged a large folding table, setting it up nicely in the back yard. There was a wide cooler filled with ice and beer along with soft drinks propped up next to the table.

Abbie had been beaming with anticipation all day and all but broke out in giggles when everyone sat down to eat. She perched herself on the end beside Patrick, while Corin sat opposite, Wayne next to her and Grace next to Wayne. Ken and Teresa were on the same side as Patrick opposite of Wayne and Grace.

"You have a beautiful home, Corin. Thanks for having us." Teresa offered after the long span of silence brought on by mouths being stuffed with gobs of hamburgers and steaks, potato salad, green salad and other such goodies.

"You're welcome." Corin responded, painfully aware of Patrick studying her with a great amount of interest. "Actually, I'm … Glad you're here."

"Patrick, do a trick!" Abbie piped up as if on cue.

"Sure," He agreed. "But only if you can get your Mom to help me."

Abbie batted her long, dark lashes. "Please mom?"

Everyone was looking at her, and equally, everyone noticed the pink fading into her cheeks. She eventually blew out a breath. "Okay. What do I do?"

"Excellent." Patrick displayed the same roguish grin that had thrown her that first day on the beach. "Take this coin. I'm going to turn around and you just simply put the coin in one hand. Now, I need you to place that hand on top of your head until I tell you to put it down again. Then I'll turn around and tell you which hand holds the coin."

She took the coin from him, while maintaining eye contact, unable to control the smile on her face. He thought he'd seen something behind it, like maybe a hint of familiarity.

He twirled himself around, facing the yard, while Corin looked at Abbie and winked. She closed her hand over the coin, and then put both hands on top of her head.

After about thirty seconds or so, Patrick instructed her to lower her hand, which she did, and then he turned around again. "I will now tell you which hand has the hidden the coin."

He studied her hands for a couple of moments, then flicked his eyes up to hers, his mouth twirling up at the corners. "You did put the hand on your head, right?"

"Yes I did." She smiled. "What's wrong? Tell me where the coin is … Or don't you know?"

Then his eyes narrowed. "Did you put both hands on your head?"

"Ye..e..e..s." Abbie giggled.

"Oh," Corin snickered. "Well, you didn't say I couldn't put both."

"Alright then, put the one only, and we'll do this again."

She laughed to herself as she slid a hand up on her head and waited for him to tell her to put it down as he turned back to her. This time he'd noticed the difference, but he also had guessed that perhaps she knew the trick. So, he took her left hand, opposite of the one he would normally pick, opened it and found it empty.

He shook his head. He should have guessed it. She knew she'd given herself away the first time, that she did in fact know the trick, and logically, she knew he would assume her next move would be to put the coin opposite of the obvious hand. Thus, it made sense that the only thing for her to do would be to play it straight this time to throw him off. Which meant the coin was in her right hand, the one she'd lain on top of her head.

She laughed. "And I did it right that time! I told you I know all the bar tricks."

"And so you did." He admitted, eying her half-amusedly.

Teresa, Wayne and the other two flicked gazes at each other, feeling something of a third wheel as they'd watched the entire thing unfold before their eyes. The three, Abbie, Corin and Patrick seemed to be floating in their own world, having their own spoken and unspoken conversation, broken only when Wayne stood abruptly. "Hey, the games gonna be on in about ten minutes."

"How much you put on it?" Kendall inquired, grabbing his plate and tossing it in the garbage.

"Enough." Wayne responded. "And that's all you're gettin, until I get my winnings."

"You mean if you win, right?"

"You wish." And then they all cleared the table.

Wayne and Kendall settled themselves on the couch in the living room, while Patrick spent a few minutes with Abbie, and then they joined in on the game as well. That left Corin, Grace and Teresa to chat for a while in the kitchen.

"Do either of you drink wine?" Corin asked, opening the wine cabinet.

"Uh, No thank you." Teresa replied.

"No, I don't drink at all." Corin should have known that. While Grace typically wore snug fitting clothes, her lifestyle seemed quite conservative. If Corin had to guess she would assume her to be a good little catholic girl, no drinking or smoking. There was nothing wrong with it, and Corin supposed her quaintness merely served only to keep Wayne's attention. He was even more attracted to her.

"Okay. Well, I'll open a bottle anyway."

"That was pretty good, getting over on Jane like that." Grace mused, sipping her diet soda.

"Whoop! Hell yea!" Wayne yelled from the living room, Ken echoing him.

"It's just a bar trick," Corin replied, pouring a glass of wine. "It only works if you put the coin in your hand and then hold it over your head. It's because that hand will be paler when you put the two together again. It's simple."

"Clever."

"Only if you don't know how it works. Of course he didn't think anyone did."

"Nope." Teresa echoed with another smirk, gulping another swallow of beer. 'Well, thank you again Corin. It was really nice of you to do this for us. You should come out with us more often."

"You're welcome, and maybe I will." Corin watched her make her way to the door, Patrick rose, hands in pockets and tagged along behind her.

"It's so weird." She finished her thought out loud, causing Grace to look at her as if to say, what?

"Why does he always walk around with his hands in his pockets like that?"

"I don't know." Grace laughed. "Why does he always wear the same shoes?"

"I don't know." Corin echoed her laugh, and then they made their way to the living room.

Grace slipped down into the couch, settling into the corner. Wayne was on the edge of the other end, Kendall in the middle. Both men were absorbed in the game. Abbie was snuggled drowsily in the overstuffed chair farthest from the door.

Corin sighed, standing behind the couch and thinking how nice everything turned out, even though she'd resisted profusely. She'd missed a lot by being a recluse. Smiling, she snuck behind them and headed out onto the porch.

The swing was all but begging her to sit and enjoy the breeze. So, she did, lowering herself down and staring out into the sky. While California is generally very populated, this area was not so dense, and the streetlights weren't so distracting for stargazers. She hadn't looked for long, however, before she spotted Patrick strolling across the ground. He stepped up on the porch, gazing at her unassumingly.

She looked up at him. "I thought you'd left."

"Na." He answered. "I would've said so."

He inched forwards and so she scooted on the end, letting him join her. He steadied his eyes on her and then drew a breath. "So, what's bothering you?"

She turned her head to him, opened her mouth but then realized it was pointless to counter the question. "I … I got a job offer."

"And that's a bother?"

"I … No. Actually, it's … It's better than I expected I'd ever have come my way."

"Mmm …" Patrick nodded. He understood perfectly, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"They want me to come to the university. Junior Assistant to Head of Music and lead Pianist in the orchestra."

"Oh." He nodded, both brows raised. "That's impressive. Really impressive."

She stared straight, and he studied her before tilting his head. "You haven't told Rigsby, obviously. "

"No." She confessed. "But here I am telling you."

"Yes. Here you are." He leaned forwards, in a little towards her. "Are you going to let one event define you? Set the precedent for the rest of your life? I hope not."

He watched her run her finger around the wine glass, realizing that, judging by the scent, it was from the bottle he'd given her. She felt that sudden rush of dizziness when he'd leaned towards her. And she knew it wasn't just the wine. "You want to get rid of that snowball? You can, and only you. "

Out of context, the entire statement would have been hilarious, but it only served to drape another layer of somberness in her expression as she turned her head, finding her eyes trapped inside his. She shuddered a bit when the boys yelled from inside, the game obviously climaxing to a higher level.

Patrick saw it in her eyes, that he had reached her. She stared at him for a moment and then handed him the glass. She quietly rose, opening the door, ambling into the living room. Wayne turned around, registering the look on her face, but she spoke before he could say anything.

"I … I got a job offer."

"What? Really? From where?"

Abbie popped her head up as well, curious and cautiously listening, thinking this meant another move. Corin smiled a little, holding back the dampness in her eyes. Damn emotion, it was embarrassing.

She drew in her lips and then spilled the info. "Professor McFadden, from the university."

"Our university? Here?" Wayne was moving around the couch towards her.

"Yes." She nodded. "He, um, recommended me to the board and they agreed. They want me to come on as Junior Assistant head of music and lead pianist for the orchestra."

"What? Are you serious? Corin, that's incredible! That's … I can't believe it!"

He reached her at full speed, grabbing and holding her there firmly while laughing from sheer joy. Then he pulled away, holding onto her arms as he stared into her eyes. "You are taking it?"

Her mouth twitched at first and then reached a full blown smile. "I'm supposed to meet with them tomorrow morning."

He embraced her again, and by this time Abbie had lept from the chair as well and then the three of them were standing in their living room, Kendall, Grace and Patrick observing the little family embracing and sharing a happy moment. A pure, unspoiled, sweet moment when everything was right in the world and nothing bad could happen now.

It was nearly nine, Grace and Kendall had already politely excused themselves, leaving Patrick and Wayne behind. Corin sent Abbie to bed and the two men helped her clean up the rest of the garbage. Wayne was in the yard, searching for empty beer bottles and folding up the table. Patrick was on his way to excusing himself as well when Corin stopped him. "Oh, wait a minute before I forget."

He turned, eying her inquisitively. She shot him a quirky smile and then went into the front closet. "I, um, well, these are for you."

She handed him a box that indicated she'd just given him a pair of shoes, but it was a funny gift, so he passed off the thought - until he opened the box. Then he laughed. A Patrick laugh was fun to watch, full and animated, his cheeks would turn even rosier while his eyes danced.

"Well. " She said. "I kinda noticed you …Wayne doesn't like to go shopping for them either. And then it's even harder to get him to wear socks."

He chuckled, thinking she was such a mother. "And you knew my shoe-size."

"Well, " She teased. "I might not be able to read minds, but, I am a woman. I know shoes."

"Good point." They were standing there looking at each other when Wayne came back in.

"What's goin on?" He asked, flicking glances between them.

"Oh, I was just leaving." Patrick answered, saying goodnight and walking out.

Wayne soon followed after and then she was alone again, in her quiet house. She locked the door, then rinsed out the wine glass in the kitchen sink. The evening had gone better than she expected. The family's house was always filled with people when she was a kid. If it wasn't a birthday, then it was Thanksgiving or Christmas, Easter. Then, of course football games. Now, standing in the silence, she realized she'd forgotten, and perhaps missed the sound of voices filling the rooms. People talking and laughing, enjoying themselves.

It was ten o'clock, and she stepped into the bathroom, took a shower and then slipped into her pajamas. She got a drink of water, peeked in on Abbie as was her normal routine, and then made her way to her own bedroom. She fingered the sage blanket for a moment before folding the covers back on the bed. She lay her head on the pillow and then she was sleeping. The crickets were chirping outside under a full moon. The house was peaceful, while Corin and Abbie slept as if nothing could ever touch them.

It was Monday. Patrick started his day with coffee, black was the norm. He was in the office earlier than normal. Lisbon was surprised to find him standing outside when she pulled up.

"Well, look at you. Tryin to make up for yesterday huh? "

"Oh, just woke up early." He grinned over dramatically.

"Nice shoes." She commented as they went through the doors.

"Oh, yea, shoes." He rambled, trailing behind her.

The day was lazy like that, without the usual excitement. There were a couple of cases that needed to be wrapped up, but by lunch, Lisbon was guessing that he would probably be able to take the second half off. He was smiling to himself, thinking of stopping by the school to check in on Corin, when he felt the cell buzzing in his pocket.

He stopped his turn, at the edge of the parking lot, sliding the phone from his belt. He recognized the number. "Hi. How did it go at the university?"

There was silence. He heard a familiar sound, a fish tank humming in the background.

"Corin?"

More silence, but he could hear her breathing. It was sharp, staggered breaths, with large gaps in between. Then she screamed. A blood-curdling shriek that sent chills through him.

"Corin, talk to me." He ordered her, pressing the gas and cursing the fact that he was driving a car with very little pickup. "Come on, take a breath, breathe. Everything's going to be okay, do you hear me? Talk to me."

He heard the phone slip from her hand and then crash onto the floor. Adrenaline kicked in as his turn escalated into a sharp skid, eyes wide with a gnawing sense of foreboding.

He knew where to go.

His wheels were eating the ground beneath them when he reached her yard. He came to a sharp stop, flying out of the drivers side and surveying the area. Her car was there, but the door was still wide open. He sucked in air, letting his eyes trail off to the front porch. The front door was open too. He sprinted from the car to the porch, but then stopped at the edge, staring into the house.

He'd been here before.

He pushed the door open a little more, feeling a tightness in his chest. Then he took a step into the house. He was afraid to call out to her, afraid of what he was going to discover somewhere there.

He was dragging breaths, as he crept over the hardwood floor. He remembered where he'd put the gun the night she'd pulled it on him. He'd set it on the swing, but after everything was over, and Corin was sleeping soundly on the couch, he'd went back and placed it securely in the small hidden panel just beside the front closet.

He wasn't supposed to carry a gun. He didn't care. He opened the panel and slid the weapon out into his hand. He continued his quiet trek across the living room and into the hallway that led to the kitchen and then to Abbie's room.

He stared at the door.

He was frozen in his own flashback of a long hallway, with an ominous door waiting for him at the end. A door that obscured behind it the worst horror anyone could imagine. The dead bodies of his loved ones. It was the same door he'd loved before. The one he'd shared with his wife and daughter before they were slain by Red John. The door that led to their bedroom, and the same room he'd slept in for the past five years.

His heart wasn't even beating anymore, or so it seemed, while he fixed his eyes on Abbie's door. The one he was gawking at in the here and now, terrified to break past. He was sucking in short heaves of air, then he stuck his hand out and pushed on it. The creak was painfully loud and disturbing as the door slowly gave way and opened for him.

He saw them at the same time. The flashback of the red-smiley face on the wall, drawn so meticulously over the bodies of his wife and child, simultaneously with the one he was staring at in the here and now. A fresh stain of red dripping down the wall. A crimson stain smiling at him, taunting him.

First you see the face, and then you feel the dread. Knowing the horror you're about to look on. He let his eyes scale the wall and then settle on the bed.

He shook, staring at them curled up there, hands frozen at his sides. Corin was wrapped around Abbie, motionless. He swallowed, head spinning worse than he remembered and now he felt sick.

"Hold it right there!" Patrick swung around at the voice behind him, stiffly throwing his hands up, clenching the gun between them.

"Whoa. Back up, Jane, it's just me!" Rigsby spurted, staring shell shocked at the bewildered and disheveled Patrick Jane.

Then, as Patrick lowered the gun, Wayne's face was turning a sickly pale green as his eyes strayed to the wall and then to the scene under it. Eyes threatening to spill over, he managed a pitiful murmur.

"Oh My God."