A/N: Here's an update hope it's okay I am currently enjoying a bout of the flu myself so it may be a bit incomprehensible.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Mentalist

Read and Review… It is better than chicken soup.

The sound of muffled hissing and the rhythmic stream of air in his throat made it hard to stay asleep. Jane had been in this damn hospital for over a month, they removed his tumor and then blasted him with chemo, which left him with a severely compromised immune system. He was on prophylactic antivirals and antibiotics, and they gave him these wonderful shots of neulasta to raise his white count that made his bones ache till he felt like crying. Despite all countermeasures, Patrick managed to catch a virulent form of pneumonia commonly found in hospitals. He was back on the ventilator, and they were pouring vancomycin into him like it was normal saline. He was weak from chemo, weak from surgery and now he was fighting for his life from a stupid thing like pneumonia. God knows how he would survive the radiation portion of his treatment, if he were fortunate enough to make it until then.

Lisbon sat staring in horror at the shell of Patrick Jane lying in the bed before her. If she didn't know for sure it was him, she would never have believed it was Jane. It had been four days since she last saw him, and in that time he managed to deteriorate to needing full life support. That was Jane for you; he never did anything half way.

Cho leaned against the wall beside the doorway his arms crossed and one foot resting on the wall. He looked bored, but then again that was how he always looked. Grace had made herself a cup of tea in honor of Jane, and sat sipping it in one of the other chairs. Rigsby was pacing back in forth unnerved by what he saw in the bed. No one said it, but they all felt Jane slipping away, that's what brought them here on the weekend, to see him, and perhaps to say good bye.

Pete Crandall was a neurosurgeon and didn't usually handle a patients case after he'd gotten them through post-op, but Jane was special, not just because the CBI requested he remain as Jane's primary, but because Patrick reminded him so much of himself. Their cool exteriors hid torrents of emotion, that surgery helped him to hide, and being a mentalist helped Patrick conceal from the world. It took one to know one, and Pete knew exactly what he saw in Patrick. He was mulling over the grim possibility that Jane may die of a stupid hospital borne infection as he walked into his office. A bouquet of yellow flowers sat on his desk… 'Narcissus' he mused. Beside the woven basket that held the arrangement was an envelope addressed to him. Thinking nothing of it, he opened the envelope and began reading the letter inside… he felt the blood drain from his face as he stumbled trying to sit down.

Dear Dr .Crandall,

You have done an admirable job of ridding my dear friend Patrick of his tumor, and I assure you I greatly appreciate your efforts. However, if Patrick dies in your hospital I will hold you personally responsible, and trust me when I say you will not enjoy our conversation on the matter, and neither will your wife and daughter. For all of your sakes I hope you are able to cure him of his pneumonia.

By the way, you have a lovely home; I like what you did around the pool area. Your lovely wife and I enjoyed a glass of tea beside the koi pond, beautiful, simply beautiful.

Your Friend,

Red John

Pete's hands were shaking, as he dialed his home number.

"Hello…"

'Oh thank God' his heart was pounding in his chest. "Meredith? How are you and Kylie?"

Meredith's brows furrowed with concern and curiosity; her husband was a surgeon, and she rarely heard from him during the day, on top of that his voice sounded strangely choked.

"We're fine Pete…what's wrong?"

"Ohhh uhhh nothing really just wanted to check in."

She knew he was lying but also knew she would get nothing else from him over the phone.

"Okay great… honey will you be home for dinner?"

Pete's mind began racing… 'Kylie, she needs to pick Kylie up.'

"Hey Mere, I was wondering why don't you pick Kylie up and meet me here, and we can get some dinner together."

Okay now she knew something was wrong…really wrong, but she was no fool if Pete Crandall was afraid she could trust it was something serious.

"Sounds good, we'll see you in a couple of hours."

He heard the change in her voice, she knew he was scared and she would do whatever he asked. Thank God he married such a smart and intuitive woman. "Great look forward to it… Bye"

"Goodbye Pete, see you later… I love you."

He felt his throat close with fear and unshed tears he could barely squeak out a heartfelt "I love you too…and Kylie…tell her I love her too."

She nodded her head stunned by the emotion leeching through the phone from her normally implacable husband…

"Mere?"

"Oh yes sweetheart… I will tell her, see you soon," and she hung up the phone, before she completely lost it. Whatever was going on was scary as hell, and her husband was afraid for her and their daughter. She grabbed her purse and keys set the alarm code and rushed to pick her daughter up from school early… she needed to hold her and make sure she was safe.

Pete sat nearly gasping for air in an effort to calm down… his mind was spinning, he could not decide whether to tell CBI or not. Unfortunately, he would not get the chance to choose because at that moment agent Lisbon walked into his office.

Lisbon strode quickly to Crandall's office, she was angry, and she wanted answers. In her mind, Jane should not have been exposed to the rest of the hospital if he was at such risk for infection. Sure, she was no doctor but she did have a basic understanding of quarantine procedures…or in this case the concept of precautions for immunocompromised patients. When Jane became ill she educated herself on what would happen to him, and knew that something wasn't right. She walked into Crandall's office fuming and full of righteous indignation, but when she saw the look on his face, the letter in his hand and the ominous bouquet of yellow upon his desk…her anger flew away on wings of adrenalin and fear.

"Dr. Crandall? Are you all right?"

He didn't say a word but got up from his desk, walked over to her, and handed her the letter, nearly collapsing before returning to his chair.

"Dammit!!!! How does this keep happening?" She was furious, so angry that spots were flashing across her vision, a good indication her blood pressure had shot way up.

Crandall flinched at her tirade, and she caught his distress before continuing her rant. "I'm sorry doctor, I know this must be very scary for you. But we've been chasing this bastard for years now and he's always just out of our reach…it is infuriating."

Crandall simply nodded…

"Can you cure him… I mean his pneumonia?"

He sighed and said "If he hadn't just had brain surgery, and several rounds of chemo I would say there would be no problem getting him over this pneumonia. But he has had all of these insults to his body wearing its defenses down, making curing any infection extremely challenging. This strain of pneumonia is very drug resistant, so things are a bit dicey. Hopefully we caught it in time to knock it out before it gets a good foothold in his lungs."

"You know doctor, he means it…he will kill them if you fail."

Crandall's throat constricted he was unable to speak but the look of terror on his face conveyed to Lisbon he understood just how desperate things were.