A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Some warnings here for graphic language and depictions of violence.

xxxx Lisbon POV xxxx

Frankly, she was getting bored with this conversation. He was just showing off and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Marcus was slowly bleeding out, and she needed to get to that gun in Bertram's hand.

"I suppose since you believe in all of that heaven stuff, maybe you and his missus and their brat can create a little support group in heaven. Patrick Jane's Lost Ones. How does that sound?"

She tilted her head. "A support group?" He didn't get the rise he'd wanted from his comment about Patrick failing to hold onto the woman he loved, and he knew that she knew it. He was looking for a way to restore the balance of power.

"Yes. Tell me: do you think she'd accept you, the woman who's been fucking her husband, with open arms." Ah. Same question, different packaging.

She leaned forward. "Is that what happened to you? A woman fucked you? Didn't accept you with open arms? You seem really pissed at women. Well, and Patrick Jane. Is it because he can get dates with women who want to fuck him and not just for a crown and empty promises?"

He looked at her silently with a wild look in his eye. Got him. She continued. "Really, I'm just trying to understand why you get off on killing. A serial killing terrorist as prolific as yourself? They're going to want to study your mind for decades."

"You know, you were cute when this started. I don't know. Maybe I should've let old Gale do something with that mouth."

She leaned back. "And you're avoiding the question. Why do you do what you do?"

"You know, I don't think I want to answer, but I do think I want to put another hole in Marcus." This was her window, and she knew it. This time, she would be quicker. "You know, boy, you seem all right. I just don't like you thinking you could replace me in my show, and…" He let out a scream as she threw the melting candle in his face, hearing the slight sizzle of the hot wax hit his skin. The flame definitely burnt his shirt a bit. Before he could react, she grabbed the fork that Bertram had left on the table for her and jammed it into his left hand as hard as she could, sticking it into the table. Bertram's dinner had been a real treat, indeed.

"Come on!" She grabbed Marcus' hand and got him to his feet. She managed to grab the gun that had been in Bertram's hand. She'd wanted to get McAllister's gun, but there was no time and he was holding it too tight.

"Slide the gun across the table and place your other hand on the table slowly. Thomas McAllister, you're under arrest!"

He laughed that sinister laugh as he struggled with his left hand. For someone who liked to dole out pain, he wasn't good at handling it. "No, I don't think I will. How about you drop yours and sit your little ass down. I was going to go easy on you, but I guess not anymore!"

She repeated herself louder. "Slide the gun across the table now!"

"You've got no real power here, you dumb bitch. Just like your little job with the FBI. You see, Bertram never loaded his gun. It was always for show." He fired off a round that hit her square in the left shoulder as she tried firing the gun. He was right it wasn't loaded.

Marcus, who had stood from the table during the altercation was around the table in seconds, slamming McAllister's head into the table. He slammed his head into the table twice, disorienting him.

"Run!" Marcus shouted at her, but in a split second, she knew that she could never run from this monster. She had a duty to serve and protect. Besides, he would hunt them to the end of the earth. They would never know freedom. She needed her team, but she didn't even know if they'd got her messages. No, this was it. She had to stand her ground.

She went for McAllister's gun. He struggled with her, refusing to let it go and turning to hit her in her wound which was gushing now. She was losing blood even faster than Marcus, but she would never give up. She'd fight for herself and for Jane, for their future.

Witnessing the struggle, Marcus hit the man's head again. This time, she was able to take control of the gun. "It's over, McAllister! Put your goddamn hands on the table! Now!" She wheezed her words out, feeling a wetness on her jaw. She didn't need to wipe her face to know those weren't tears; she could smell the copper.

He just smiled a wicked smile at her. As his own blood ran down his forehead, he almost looked as gruesome as his signature red smiley face. He quickly took his right hand off the table and into his waistband, brandishing his knife. As he made to throw it, she emptied the clip into him.

There he was: Red John leaned forward with his head on the table, bleeding out. The smile never left his face. Finally, it was over.

"M-Marcus, do...do you have your phone still?" It was growing harder for her to breathe. She slid down into the floor as she could barely feel her legs anymore.

"Yes. Stay with me. I'm calling 911. I am going to get help."

"No! I need you to call...call…Patrick. Tell him we're here. Tell him it's done. Tell him I'm sorry." She always thought her last words would be a prayer-and she was right there he was. His name on her lips just like a prayer, she even thought she saw him as her world went dark.

xxxx Jane POV xxxx

As they neared the restaurant, he could think of nothing but saving Teresa. But then, he heard the gunshots. His head was spinning.

"Jane, are you carrying?"

"No."

"Ok, you're gonna have to stay out here. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded his head affirmatively-but he never intended to keep his word on that. He just knew they had no time for an argument he couldn't win. He needed to find Teresa. Rigsby and Cho came running around the corner with Minelli in tow.

"Any idea on what the situation is inside, agent?"

"Kim Fischer, Marshal Service. No, sir. We just heard several gunshots. We're going to have to breach it hot." She was an interesting woman. She'd known Teresa for all of a week. Yet, here she stood volunteering to run into a deadly situation, head first, to save her life. It was the exact kind of thing Teresa would do, too. He knew why these women got along so well.

He pulled his firearm out. "Then, let's go. Eyes and ears open, everyone. Remember we have an agent and at least one friendly in the…"

Just then, the door burst open. All of the agents leveled their guns at the door. A man in bloodied clothing came out. They all screamed some version of "get your hands up."

Kim yelled. "That's Marcus Pike."

"Oh thank God, you're here. Please. She needs help really bad. I've been shot too, but she needs help. God, she really needs help. Please help her. He's...he's dead, I think."

They rushed into the room as Kim pulled Marcus off to the side to tend to his wounds. He heard Rigsby yell: "Grace, we've got her! Get that bus off of standby! Now!" Then, he saw her. He saw those golden stilettos first, the ones that she complained about but secretly loved because they made her taller. Her face bloodied, she was on her back on the floor. Her green eyes were glassy as she gasped for air.

He ran to her side and fell to his knees. If he believed in it, this would've been the moment he said a prayer. He took off his jacket off and pulled her into his arms, pressing it over her wound. "Patrick...I'm sorry."

"No, no. Teresa, no. You're not sorry. You've nothing to be sorry for. I've got you. Everything is going to be ok."

"I didn't mean to...kill...him."

At the table nearby, McAllister was face down dripping blood from his chair. There was knife in the floor next to him. He wondered if that was the knife he'd used to make his signature kills, if that was the knife he had used on Angela and Charlotte. He imagined that had been the man's last stand. In an ironic twist of events, his own blood was raining down onto and covering the blade. This monster caused so much pain and anguish to so many people; it was the terror he liked to create. If anyone had asked him a few weeks ago, he would have told them that vengeance was his life's work. He had meant to kill Red John, to make him pay for his monstrous ways. He hadn't killed him, but one way or another, he was dead and gone now in a scene that looked like one that monster himself would've made and probably taken pride in. When he saw Teresa laying on the ground, her own blood beginning to pool around her, he couldn't care less. Nothing else mattered other than the fact that the woman he loved was bleeding out onto the floor. Red John was someone else's problem now.

"No, baby, you did good. You didn't have a choice. I don't care about that now. He's dead. It's over. But you're still here." Hearing her ragged breaths, he looked around before he screamed. "We need an ambulance now!"

"Not...your...fault." He mused over her words. She thought she was dying and she wanted him to know it wasn't his fault. Not for the first time that day, he started to cry.

"Just stay with me, Teresa. That's all you have to do. I'm here, and I need you here with me. I love you."

"Love you...too. Not..your...fault." He cradled her in his arms for what seemed like forever until Rigsby and Minelli were at his side, pulling him away for the medics to get to her. He had no sense of time. The next thing he knew, they were loading her into the ambulance. Van Pelt and the girls had also joined them.

"Jane, are you hearing me?" Minelli was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't be bothered.

"Where...where are they taking her? I need to go with her."

"Jane, it's ok. They've got her stabilized. They think the wound and the struggle may have caused a collapsed lung. They've got an OR prepped for her immediately upon her arrival at the hospital." He nodded his head.

"I've got to go."

Cho grabbed him and stopped him. "We all are going to go in just a minute, ok?"

"I need to be there now."

"I know. We just need to make sure you're with us first. We're going to give statements at the hospital."

He nodded. "I'm ok. Let's go." Cho nodded at him.

He remembered nothing of the ride to the hospital. He vaguely remembered when Wainwright arrived with Kim Fischer, Erica, and Michelle. He vaguely remembered when Cho dragged him to the bathroom to scrub the blood, her blood from his hands and arms. "She'd have my ass if I let you sit there like that." Cho had told him as he handed him a fresh set of clothes to put on. He fondly remembered their first meeting and how she'd told him to clean up. Cho was right, and from the way he spoke, he could tell his mind was in the same place as his right now.

He had little recollection of anything until Ray Haffner arrived.

"Where is she? Is she ok?" He'd sworn that he'd caught Red John, even though they all knew he hadn't. Darkly, he thought about McAllister's words on the phone call. In the end, he was right. He hadn't caught him. Teresa did that. Now, her life hung in the balance.

"Get out...get him the fuck out of here! Right now!" He couldn't control his anger around this fool any longer. He had no reason to even play at being nice when his incompetence, in part, had led to this. He left them completely vulnerable, and everything he'd done to Teresa made his blood boil.

Minelli was once again by his side with his hand on his shoulder. "Jane, calm down. Let me handle this. Ray, it's best that you leave. We will talk later."

"Leave? I'm not going anywhere because this lunatic says so. I'm here for Teresa. How is she?"

"Fine. We can do this now. She's in her third hour of surgery, Ray. She's got a collapsed lung and significant blood loss resulting from a tussle she took with a terrorist you assured me you caught. She has a 50/50 chance of pulling through. And you're not leaving because this lunatic says so. You're leaving because I said so. In fact, do not ever bother showing your face in my office again. You're done."

"Done? Do you think this is my fault? You agreed we caught him!"

"I did, which was almost a fatal error for Agent Lisbon. I've been rethinking my own actions and how we landed here, as I will be for some time to come, but that's not why you're done."

"Then what?"

"You see, Teresa Lisbon is a damn fine agent, a very talented woman. As long as I've known her, she's always wanted nothing more than to get along and to do the job. I let you convince me that not only was she not doing the job, but that she was significantly impaired. You had me doubting her judgment because you saw something as an outsider looking in that we'd all missed. I clipped her wings because of you."

"Boss, we all make decisions based on the information we have. Jane is a wild card. It's not…"

"Let me finish!" Minelli roared like a lion out to protect his cub. "And do not bring Jane into this. Not unless you're going to feed me some bullshit about he's the reason you've been sexually harassing and assaulting your co-worker."

He'd lost all color in his face and was sputtering. "This sounds exactly like shit he'd make up. You know that!"

"Let me tell you what I know. He'd walk a lot of lines to get to his end result, endangering her was never one of them. Not just because he wouldn't do it, but because she wouldn't let him. She's a fully capable agent, and from what I can tell, she runs circles around you. Another thing that I know is that your fellow agents have observed incidents of you harassing her. Verbal and physical."

He looked around. "What is this? Is someone trying to make a report? Maybe they should just say what their grievances are with me to my face."

"This isn't the place. I've received no official reports...yet. I am opening an investigation based on what I've heard and what I've seen." Minelli paused for a second, rubbing his face. "You left bruises on her arms. Now, I've had the videotape from the nightclub pulled already. When she wakes up and tells me what happened and I review that tape, do not think for a second that I will hesitate to encourage her to file a report with the LAPD. I will not have anyone like you working for me."

"Boss, I can explain…"

"Can you? You terrorized your female colleague to the point that she'd rather chase down a fucking serial killing terrorist alone than spend another minute in your company or in the company of anyone who'd stick up for you. I don't think you can. What possible explanation could even exist for that?"

Haffner spluttered, trying to form some lie or another to cover his ass. Minelli wasn't giving him the chance. "Get the hell out of my sight before I beat your ass myself. Trust me: those little bee stings you got from Fischer and Jane will be nothing compared to what I will do."

"Fischer?"

"Hi!" From the corner of the room, Kim made herself known. She'd been talking to Wainwright. "Agent Kim Fischer. Marshal Service. I'm responsible for the one on your right side."

Haffner scoffed. "Whatever. Wainwright, will you let me know when she wakes up?"

The younger agent furrowed his eyebrows. "Not a chance in hell. Is that why you kept going on and on about her safety? You said that Jane was a threat to her safety."

"I've never been a threat to her safety. I've never berated her in front of her colleagues or try to force myself on her. That's...well, that's all you, Haffner." The shock and horror on Wainwright's face turned to rage, but the younger agent kept quiet. Clearly, he hadn't been in on Ray Haffner's open secret.

Haffner rolled his eyes. "Look, that's bullshit. I had my reasons for trying to ensure her safety. You're all too blind to see Jane for what he really is."

"What he really is is an asset." Rigsby, seated next to an extremely pissed off Van Pelt, chimed in. "An asset who makes you jealous as hell."

He laughed. "Is that what Lisbon is saying? I'll clear this up with her."

"No, you won't because it's what we're saying." Cho walked closer to Haffner. "Don't think I've forgotten last Christmas. I've already written a statement."

"A statement about what? That your boss got a little drunk and couldn't handle her liquor?"

He closed his eyes, practicing every technique he could to not pummel Ray Haffner and not stop hitting him until he looked something like Thomas McAllister. "Leave. Haffner, leave. Now."

"Why because you want me gone? Teresa is my friend, and I care about her."

Before he could respond, Minelli intervened. "Spoken like a true asshole, Ray. Officer, escort Mr. Haffner off the property. If he tries to come back on this property, arrest him."

"What?! You have no authority for that."

Minelli held up a piece of paper in his hand and handed to Haffner. "Well, you see, actually I do. I have a friend at the LA County DA's Office. They take stalking crimes seriously. I was able to get a temporary restraining order for as long as she's in this hospital. So if you set foot on these premises again, you will be arrested. And honestly? I hope you try it. I'm sure OPR is already going to have a field day with you. I'm sure an arrest related to stalking would make it even better."

He'd never seen Ray Haffner look so enraged. He knew he'd been had. "This is bullshit, Minelli."

"I don't care what you think this is. Officers!" As the officers in uniform approached, the older man put his hand up to stop them. "One more thing, Ray. I want you to know that this comes from me, not Teresa. I don't want you to get it in your head that once I'm rid of you that you can keep coming after her. I take care of my own. Now, get the hell out of my sight."

And just like that, the uniformed officers walked Haffner out of the building.

Hours passed in what seemed like an eternity as they waited for updates. When they pushed the nursing staff, they were told they had no updates. They'd tried to convince Rigsby to take Van Pelt back to the hotel for some sleep, but she wouldn't leave the hospital. None of the team left. Minelli also stayed on, as he noticed the man held onto a set of prayer beads.

Madeleine joined them at the hospital some time after Wainwright and Kim escorted Michelle and Erica back to the hotel. Without a word, she sat down next to him and held his hand. He wondered how many times she'd held a contestant's hand through a difficult situation. Maybe not life or death, but she seemed well versed in it. At some point after that, he fell into a fitful sleep, only to be jolted awake by a young doctor and nurse entering the waiting room to see them.

"Agent Lisbon is going to make a full recovery." As the young doctor spoke, a wave of deep breaths were exhaled around the room. "It's going to take some time for her to recover, and she will likely need to be intubated for a little while longer. Right now, she is still under sedation. We can allow one of you to go back and see her."

They all looked to him as he stood. "I'll go."

"Nurse Johnson will take you to her room."

He wasn't sure what to expect once he got there. She'd been through a lot. He still wasn't prepared for the sheer amount of medical equipment surrounding her or the tube down her throat helping her breathe.

As he approached her side, he pushed her hair back from her forehead and gave her a kiss. He could see that her hair was caked with blood. That wouldn't do.

"Nurse, is there any way I could get some towels and some water? I need to clean her hair. There's blood in it."

The older woman nodded. "I can use some shampoo packs on her hair when I come back. I have to check another room right now."

"I can take care of it if you have them on hand. Please let me." The woman gave him a knowing look as she handed him the towel like packets that held the shampoo. He worked the blood out of her hair, careful to ensure he didn't disturb her. He needed to do this for her. He smiled as he realized she'd probably wake up and complain he hadn't conditioned her hair properly or something-but at least she would wake up.

After plopping her long dark hair with a towel, he pulled up the chair next to her bed. He took her hand in his, noticing that her corners of her lips were turned upward. He wondered if she was dreaming.

With her safely in front of him and her hand in his, he was finally able to fall asleep too. He awoke to a strong grip on his hand and her emerald eyes looking back at him.

He stood and kissed her forehead. "Welcome back, love." My hero.

A/N 2: Two birds, one stone. I wonder what comes next?