Disclaimer: I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

Author's Note: Okay an imprortant note that I forgot to put in the last chapter, one of Teresa's brothers is called Tommy but I didn't know that when I started this so do you want me to go back and change one of the names to Tommy or do you mind if I just leave them as they are? Anyway thanks to Silver Moon (well done for reading 37 chapters in one night!), No more darkness, rigspeltforeverxx and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :)

I suddenly felt shaky on my legs as I walked over to the empty stripped bed. He'd been fine yesterday... he'd been fine. I felt tears falling from my eyes as I studied the empty bed. I just stared transfixed at the pristine white sheets, my mind was suddenly to numb to think.

"Pat it's just an empty bed, stop being such a cry baby," complained a familiar voice.

I spun at the sound of my Dad's gruff voice and saw him walking towards me scowling. I ran at him and flung my arms around it as I was enveloped by relief, I know he didn't like being hugged but I wanted to make sure he was actually there and not a hallucination I was having from lack of sleep.

"Pat come on enough with the affection," he moaned.

"I'm so glad your alive Dad, I love you," I told him as I pulled away, "I was so scared that you were dead..... please don't die Dad," I begged as I choked back sobs.

"Oh Pat," he sighed rolling his eyes but bent down and hugged me gently.

"I love you Dad, please don't die," I repeated closing my eyes, "please."

"I'm not gonna die Pat okay? Calm down, its okay, I'm okay," my Dad's comforting words sounding odd with his voice. He pulled away and wiped away my tears, "now quit with the crying."

"Okay," I muttered taking a deep breath. He nodded and stood up, he grabbed something off the bedside table before walking back over to me.

"Come on, let's go Pat."

"What about my friends?"

"What about 'em?"

"I usually go over to there house after school... they're in the waiting room waiting for me."

"That's why they're called waiting rooms Pat. Don't state the obvious you're like 10 already."

"11 actually."

"Really?" he actually looked surprised by that, "so why are they here?"

"I didn't think they'd let you go so soon."

"They didn't I discharged myself."

"Is that really safe?" I inquired to which he just snorted and muttered something about hating hospitals.

"What do you usually do at your friends house anyway?"

"Well... I make dinner and then I do my homework with Teresa."

"Teresa? Annella's kid."

"Angela," I informed him tiredly before he slapped me.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care what her bloody name is?"

"Why don't you care what her name is?"

"Why should I?"

"You were... romantically involved with her."

"We had sex Pat, doesn't mean I give a damn what her name was. I don't even give a damn that she died."

"Well maybe you should," I snapped, instantly regretting it as his eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because... people are supposed to care about one another," I answered lamely attempting to find the right words.

"`People are supposed to care about one another` bullshit! Grow up already Pat! It's better not to care about anyone at all. Now just come on, I'll buy you and those kids some dinner then we can go home."

I reluctantly nodded and followed him out into the waiting room where the others waited. They were playing eye spy before my Dad announced we were leaving, they stood up and followed him outside as he led us through the town. We walked in realitive silence to McDonalds, even Chris although he did glare at the back of my Dad's head the whole time. He ordered us all happy meals while we sat at a table.

"Nice to see your Dad's okay," James muttered conversationally.

"Well I'm not," Chris informed us stubbornly.

"Chris! For the last time be nice," Teresa scolded frowning at him.

"Listen to your sister kid, `don't bit the hand that feeds,`" my Dad growled coming back with the food causing the young child to jump. He placed the food in front of us and we dug in ravenously.

"What do you mean `don't bite the hand that feeds?`" Chris asked after awhile, "I wasn't biting you. Only animals bit not children, that's what Mommy used to say."

"Well firstly your Mommy's dead so it doesn't matter what she said," my Dad answered coldly, "and secondly it means don't piss me off or you'll get no bloody food. Honestly Pat, kids these days."

"If we piss you off won't you just hit us?" retorted Chris and we all went still.

"Chris don't swear," Teresa chided quietly.

"Yeah Chris don't swear, didn't your Mommy teach you not to swear?" my Dad added nastily.

"You just said it doesn't matter what she said," Chris pointed out.

"What are you my biographer?" my Dad snapped, I could see him struggling to control his temper, "just shut up and eat the bloody food."

"Your not a nice person are you?" Chris pressed unhappily as he glared at my Dad.

"Look Andrea's kid-"

"Angela," I stated causing my Dad to cast me a dark look.

"You knew my Mommy too?" Chris exclaimed shocked.

"Yes I did and she thought I was a nice person, so why can't you just shut the hell up and the bleedin' food I paid for."

Chris was actually stunned into silence as he ate the rest of his food. We finished the meal and left the restaurant, following Dad to... wherever he was going. I didn't exactly want to irk him further by asking where we were headed, Chris however had no such plans.

"Are you sure Mommy liked you?" he asked eventually and I saw my Dad roll his eyes.

"Yes I am sure, now quit with the fucking questions already or I'll make you," Dad snarled in reply, Chris still didn't take the hint to shut up.

"That's what I mean, why would Mommy like someone who hits children?" Chris continued. My Dad just stopped and turned to face him.

"Pat is my son and I can do whatever the hell I want with him!"

"But I'm not," Chris pointed out bravely, Dad clenched his fists and gave Chris a venonous look before, ever so slowly continuing walking.

"Pat did you steal anymore money or is it all still in the house where the cops could take it?"

"I didn't steal any money," I protested mildly, he just snorted in reply.

"He really didn't. I took the money," Chris announced before any of us could react my Dad struck him squarely in the jaw. Chris fell hard onto the ground and started crying.

"Dad please just leave him, he's five," I pleaded standing between them. He locked his angry gaze with mine, for a minute I thought he would hit me but the anger slowly dulled in his eyes.

"Hello," said a sadistically sinister voice I recognized. Teresa and I turned to see John watching us...