A/N: Okay so this is a little longer than normal but trust me its worth it. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Jane met my stare with the same turmoil of emotions crashing in his eyes that I felt pounding in my chest. I know why I sought his stare instead of any of my teams but I won't admit it to myself. I had been avoiding him all week, but now, now I wished I could lay my head on his shoulder as I had only a week ago, and let him chase away the nightmares that I know will come tonight.
I want his comfort but I know I can not have it; I have to be strong for my team. I settle for his gentle hand on my shoulder as we turn to face Van Pelt; Jane hands her the small piece of paper, watching her just as carefully as I am.
She looks startled by the softness in his stare and takes the letter with trembling hands, some part of her already knowing what it says.
Van Pelt takes it better than I expected, she grows a little pale as her eyes take in the note and the body before us. The body, the letter, they are all Red John's way of scaring us, and I can see it in the expressions of my team that it's working. Van Pelt's mouth sets into a thin line and she gives me a small nod before passing the paper to Cho.
Cho hardly reacts at all. I watch as he reads through it twice before looking up to meet my stare. He nods slowly and hands the paper to Rigsby. No reaction, well almost none, I notice he leans a little closer to Van Pelt and his eyes flicker to her more than what is natural. Cho will protect them, just as I will.
Rigsby's soft growl shouldn't really have been a surprise. I had expected him to have the worst reaction, especially because this victim was like a cardboard copy of Van Pelt. He proceeds to call Red John a series of things I had never heard Wayne say before, until Grace rests a small hand on his arm, drawing him back to the reality around us. The fear glittering in her eyes is just noticeable enough for him to register and he calms down considerably, though I doubt he will leave her side for quite some time.
My team goes back to work, trying not to show their sudden vigilance. They stay close to Grace for the rest of the day. My team, my family, I know it's my job to protect them, and I will keep them safe, I have too.
It is a full month before we get the call. Red John leaves us the second body, second letter, and the second mirror of what will happen to my team.
Part of me is surprised to see a man that looks too much like Rigsby when we enter the living room. The man's eyes stare back at me, and I feel my stomach turn in on itself. I take a deep breath and push the feeling aside. There is no way I am going to let my team see me fall apart. No here, not now, not when they need me.
I touch Rigsby's arm lightly and he looks at me startled. It takes several seconds but finally Rigsby touches my hand on his arm and gives it a soft squeeze. I give him a small smile and step away. We do our jobs ignoring the gnawing fear circling us.
They are my team, my family, and I will protect them.
After another three weeks, the stress of waiting for another body to appear paired with my own struggle with insomnia leaves me completely drained.
I can feel Jane's worried eyes follow me whenever I leave my office and venture into the bullpen. I keep expecting him to barge into my office and demand something of me, but instead he stays out of my way.
It's almost disappointing. Part of me wishes he would come and argue with me about something. Anything. Yet for the first time, Jane is doing as I asked, and I can feel it wearing on my already battered heart.
The team follows my lead, each of them trying to keep their fear hidden. Some days they do better than others.
Grace and Rigsby arrive and leave work together, and I'm too glad that neither of them is alone to quote rules and regulations to them.
Cho always stays late. I know he is waiting for me, but I don't need a babysitter, so I send him home each day before it gets dark, and he goes but only after searching for Jane. The two share a silent nod and then he will goes.
I'm supposed to be looking after them, but I know they are trying to protect me. Its dangerous, but I know there's no point in telling them to stop, so I let it slide.
Each night Jane walks me to my car in silence. I don't even bother trying to argue with him, and he doesn't speak other than to say goodnight, and half an hour later my phone rings on cue.
I try not to smile when I answer, knowing he can probably hear it in my voice.
"I'm fine Jane," I tell him settling down on my couch.
"I know," he tells me his voice uncharacteristically quiet, "I'm psychic remember."
The smile always comes no matter how hard I try to keep it away. Each night I tell myself I will tease him about not really being psychic, but each night I sigh and tell him good night instead, and he lets me. I don't know why, but he lets me.
The third body comes three weeks after the second, an Asian man this time.
One more letter left for us as a taunt, a warning, and a nightmare that I can't wake up from. They are my team, my family, and I have to protect them.
When my phone rings shrilly at a little after five in the morning almost three months after the first body, I don't have to answer to know what the voice on the other end is going to say. I stare at the phone listening to it ring for several seconds before I can make myself reach out and pick it up. One more body, one more letter, this time a mirror of what will happen to me.
It's the perfect Red John crime scene, from the lack of evidence, the body, to the red smiling face, painted in the woman's own blood. Some part of me always twists when I see it, and in a strange way I'm glad. It doesn't hurt as much anymore, but as long as the sickness still comes I'll know I haven't grown immune to it. The day I do is the day I leave CBI for good.
I try to see past the deep bloody cuts all over her body and try to see the woman that he left broken behind. She is beautiful, at least she had been. Dark brown curls that fall down to her shoulders and pale porcelain skin, with a small frame. She looks like me, I had expected it, we all had, but I can still feel their burning gaze watching me.
The coroner leans down beside the dead girl and says something softly to her.
"What color are her eyes?" Jane asks startling everyone in the room as he breaks the silence that had settled over us.
The cornier looks to me for approval, and I nod slowly. I already know the answer before she tells us, and I know Jane does to because he moves to stand closer to me.
"Green," she says softly looking up with a guarded expression
I expected the answer, I knew it was coming, and yet the chill that passed through me still makes me shiver involuntarily.
Jane's hand brushes my side lightly and I'm thankful for his attempt to subtly comfort me.
"That's all of us" Rigsby says, his voice shaking slightly.
"Except Jane," Cho says his voice ever calm.
"There won't be a body for Jane," I tell them softly, though I'm not sure why I'm positive it's true.
"It isn't about killing Jane, it's about causing pain." I glance at Grace wishing she was wrong, but I know she's not.
What ever my personal fears I know I can't let my team see them so I turn to her and give her a sad smile, "This doesn't mean anything Van Pelt, Red John has a sick sense of humor, but we already knew that."
She nods, but doesn't believe me. I should try and convince her, convince all of them, but something catches my eye that almost makes my heart stop.
"Lisbon?" Jane's worried voice is one of many, but he is the one I hear, he is the one that touches my arm softly.
The electricity that passes through me when his skin touches mine is the reason I try to keep space between us. I can't let myself feel the sudden churning that I always get when his eyes meet mine, or when he smiles, hell when he walks in a room, but I try not to let myself feel it, and I know I can't now.
I pull away from him and move past all my team as if they were invisible to me, and in this moment they are. My stomach threatens to over throw me but I force it down. This has to be the nightmare and not the reality. It has to be.
I kneel at the end of the bed and try to ignore the bloody mattress now inches from my face.
"It's okay," I whisper softly. "We're the police; no one is going to hurt you."
I can feel my team's eyes on me, but I ignore them. Bright blue eyes flash and she whimpers softly.
"Come here sweet heart, it's alright, come here."
I hear Van Pelt gasp and Rigsby swear under his breath, but I focus all my attention on the little girl sliding slowly out from under the bed. Her blue eyes are shining brightly from unshed tears and her blond locks are tangled together. She can't be more than seven.
Her eyes glaze over the room wearily as she sits up slowly. I touch her arm and she flinches, but I'm more worried about her turning around and seeing the dead woman.
"It's okay," I promise as I wrap my arms around her.
She rests her head on my chest but her body is still stiff.
"Come on," I say gently. "Don't look."
She allows me to lead her out of the room, I feel Jane appear beside me as he rests his hand in the small of my back, and I shiver again, though this time for a very different reason.
I don't stop or slow until we are outside in the bright California sun. Police and techs jump out of our way as we pass, and I'm not sure if it's me, Jane, or the girl they are more surprised by.
Once free of the house I relax a little, and my hold on the girl lessens.
I kneel down in front of her and brush her hair from her face; she stares at me with a blank gaze that is unnerving.
"She's in shock." Jane says gently.
I touch her face softly and she flinches like I'd slapped her.
"My name is Teresa, and this is Patrick." I say softly.
"Teresa," says a small broken voice.
I smile and nod.
She leans into me and I wrap my arms around her instinctively.
"Crystal," the little one in my arms whispers before she starts sobbing.
I pull her tightly against my chest and run my fingers through her hair. As I stand I lift her with me, and feel Jane's hand on my back steadying me. I smile at him thankfully and am surprised by the strange smile on his lips.
Later I will ask him what he was thinking, even though I doubt he'll tell me. But I'll ask, and maybe for once Jane will tell me the truth.
