A/n I know I say this in the notes before every chapter but this one was especially difficult to write. Having to dig deep and remember what happened during Red John's demise was A LOT to say the least.

/

Therapy – Killing The Devil

Getting himself to his session was not as difficult today like the previous weeks. This should probably be a surprise considering he expects to be talking about one of the biggest days of his life. The day he stopped a notorious serial killer's reign. It may have been a chaotic event, mainly thanks to the FBI swooping in to dismantle the CBI, but it went relatively smoothly. After years of torment, sleepless nights, and fixating, he had his moment of relief after Thomas McAllister's life drained away by his hands. A good day. It was some sort of justice for all the lives he wiped from this earth.

Jane almost allows himself to smile, remembering the liberation all too clearly, but when he notes the fleeting expression of concern from his therapist, he finds his poise once more. He really doesn't want her getting the wrong idea. He is not happy that he took a life away, if he thinks too much about Tanner, Carter, Cordero, McAllister then remorse would begin to creep in. He isn't a monster. He just did what he had to do.

When Dr Bailey begins to write in her notebook, her brow creased showing signs of unease, he tries his best to comprehend the illegible scrawl. Her piercing gaze meets his and he sheepishly sinks back into his chair looking shifty. "Would you say that you have trust issues Patrick?"

Trust issues are pretty standard when working in law enforcement. You spend your days catching bad guys who have probably broken someone's trust making you realise how screwed up the world is. "Doesn't everyone?" He retorts, making her tap the nib of her pen on the notepad a few times before she hums.

The months leading up to Red John's demise, the more trust was lost. Some of it was his own making, he kept the Lorelei plan to himself, played down their relationship and helped her escape from a maximum-security prison, all whilst pretending to be kidnapped. He knows that Lisbon's respect for him reduced during that time, and she certainly had no desire to trust him about anything. He hurt her massively and it is one of his biggest regrets. She even stopped asking for his help on cases when that was literally his job. Some days he was paid to just be lying vertical, on the crusty mattress in his attic space, staring at the ceiling obsessing over his cause. "Lorelei?"

"I've seen you around, served you drinks a couple times."

"Yeah, I remember. Uh, Lorelei, right?"

It wasn't meant to get so complicated. His plan may have been a little out there, but it should have worked, it almost worked. If it had then so many good people would still be alive, like Wainwright, and years of hell that followed wouldn't be so ingrained on his friends' minds.

What stung the most was how his relationship with Lisbon deteriorated. He could tell that she still wanted to help him, but she was much more wary. She held him more at an arm's length and was sure to tell him when he was being an asshole. Although that almost ended so badly. One day they fell out in a diner in Salton Sea State Recreation Area, causing her to leave the location and later that day almost became Red John's next victim. Wiping Partridge's blood from her face, his heart ached and the guilt he felt was colossal. His selfishness once again almost cost him dearly. If she hadn't survived, if he had butchered her, he wouldn't have been able to go on.

When he did take Thomas McAllister's life a few years ago, he briefly considered taking his own so he wouldn't have to deal with the consequences. It is like in that moment he knew that he had served his purpose… until he remembered her. He couldn't have done that to her. If she hadn't survived the serial killer's attack, then he wouldn't have thought twice, and the FBI would have had another corpse on their hands. But she was alive, and he wasn't going to cause her anymore unnecessary pain; she had been through enough. "You contemplated suicide?" The redhead asks, worry obvious in her tone.

"Fleetingly."

"Was this the first time?"

He averts his gaze, evidently uncomfortable by the question which he knows gives away his answer before he verbally offers it. "No, I… I thought about it a lot shortly after my family were killed but then my obsession became my reason to live." It may have been damaging, not just to his mental state but to other people, but without it he would have had nothing. It may have been a toxic situation but without it he wouldn't have found the CBI who eventually became his family. It may have been a dangerous quest but without it he wouldn't have had the closure he so needed to move on, and he definitely would not be married to Teresa.

"You said that your relationship with your now wife worsened because of relations you had with… Lorelei?"

It carries the air of a final showdown in Julia Howard's Davis address. Lisbon is seething, almost smoking at the ears, that she has found her consultant there and although he is alone, she can tell from his guilty demeanour that their fugitive was here, and she no longer is. He didn't try and stop her, and that is like a stab to her chest. "You're putting your trust in the mistress of a serial killer. She's playing you." She says to him, trying best to keep her cool but she knows the ounce of remaining patience she has left is rapidly running out.

"Playing me? How?" There is something in his manner, how he fires his questions that makes her want to slap him. He's treating her like an idiot once again, like he did at the start of their partnership. She thought those days were behind them, she thought she knew him better than that.

"You're blind. You're involved with her. It's clouding your judgment."

"There's no involvement. I feel nothing for her."

"Now you're really lying." She's trying her best to stay rational, to not let her emotions cloud her own judgement but she's beginning to struggle. Why can't he just see sense? Jane watches the mixture of pain and anger flash across her face. Perhaps one day that look will haunt him but right now he is in too deep, all he can focus on is his cause. Lorelei cannot be caught before she tells him Red John's name. "I'm gonna make this very simple. I will not be a part of this anymore, and neither will you, if you wanna remain with the team."

"An ultimatum? Someone's playing a little too much poker." It's a cruel comment and even he in his current state knows that but the barb cuts her deep. "I confess. I-I may have some feelings, but if I have crossed any lines, it is not because I like her. I will do anything I can to get to Red John, but you have known that since the start."

He knew about Lorelei's ties with Red John, she was his in but when he came to that realisation, he didn't know how far he was going to have to go. She was the first person he slept with since his wife. Every time he let her get close to him, pretending that he had some kind of feelings for her, he always felt sick to his stomach. There were a few occasions when he almost stopped himself because it was too hard but then he remembered why he was putting himself through it, and suddenly he was okay with it again. It was a difficult experience to have gone through and he's not really spoken about it before, not even with Lisbon because she was always so peeved when the woman's name was mentioned. He understands why, of course, he broke her trust countless times when it came to Lorelei Martins. It is a period of his life that he's definitely not proud of.

It isn't just because of letting the mistress of the man who killed his family get so close to him, she couldn't have got much closer, it is also because of the way his partner acted around him after that. He isn't stupid, he knows that his and his now wife's relationship ran deeper than what they both allowed themselves to believe. She liked him, a lot, and he felt the same for her. It pains him even now remembering how fractious she became towards him, the hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

Jane made a living for a long-time conning people and had no problem with it, but the moment he had to begin to con her and break that trust they shared and cherished, was a bad day. "For someone with trust issues of your magnitude, you do talk about trust a lot." The therapist comments whilst looking at him with such intrigue, like she is an archaeologist, and he is some ancient relic that she's just discovered.

"Trust is important, is it not?" She doesn't reply to this, instead the sound of her pen scratching at her notebook fills the space so he decides to move on. "Leading up to us finding Red John, we couldn't trust anyone."

"I am assuming we is yourself, Teresa and…" She trails, flicking back a couple of pages in her book. "Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt?" He hums with a curt nod of his head. "Why couldn't you trust anyone?"

At first, they thought they just had to be careful because CBI director, Gale Bertram, was one of his Red John suspects. They walked on eggshells around him during their suspicions, but it later transpired that their worries were unfounded… but instead he was part of a network of corrupt cops and essentially working for the serial killer. The Blake Association. It still baffles the mentalist how it managed to thrive without them noticing it, until it was too late. No-one truly knows how many crimes were committed by these bent law enforcement officers. The ones they do know about are painful to recollect.

Rebecca Anderson, now she was bonkers. She murdered Sam Bosco, Nick Martinez, and Mark Dyson before – thanks to the network – Red John had her life removed. She seemed to think that they were in love, Jane remembers how psychotic she was when he interviewed her and even though she committed such terribly atrocities, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. The serial killer groomed her, like he groomed Lorelei.

He cared dearly for Lisbon, Sam Bosco did, and despite his dislike of the CBI consultant he saw how much he mattered to her. In his final moments he swallowed his pride, and his dying wish was to ask the curly-haired man at his bedside to look out for her.

"When you catch him, don't arrest him. Kill the son of a bitch." Sam requests of Jane, as he feels his body become weaker and weaker.

"That's the plan."

"Good. Listen... Listen..." He signals that he wants his visitor to lean closer to him, so he can whisper something without the brunette hearing from outside his room, the action makes her raise her brow in surprise and she knows that she will have to interrogate her partner later about it. "Look after her. She may act all tough, but I know, deep down, she's sensitive. She would hate me saying this but please protect her. Don't let him get her."

He didn't need to be told this. He was not going to let Red John get her, no way. Although he did get close a few times.

One of those instances was thanks to Craig O'Laughlin. He infiltrated their lives more than anyone was expecting. He stopped being just an FBI agent and became engaged to Grace Van Pelt. She loved him and they were only weeks away from getting married when everything changed. He killed Todd Johnson, Manuel Montero, Officers Cole and Mayers, before trying his best to take the lives of Madeline Hightower, Lisbon, and his own fiancé.

Fellow FBI Agent Reede Smith killed Bob Kirkland and suddenly Jane's list of seven suspects was quickly shrinking. "You had seven suspects?"

"Yes, I spent so much time whittling down my list to the final seven." It took months and months, during that time he was very little help to the unit. He begun to let them down more and more frequently. "Two were already dead before what I thought would be the final showdown, then three more died…" That's what he thought anyway. They knew that Smith wasn't the serial killer when he begun disclosing all about The Blake Association, he wasn't bright enough to be Red John, that much became obvious. So, it had to be Bertram, there was no-one else left. Jane thought McAllister died along with two of his other suspects but then he walked into the chapel at Alexandria Cemetery like a phoenix rising from the ashes of his blasted Malibu property. A smug grin resting on his face. "He thought he had won." He reveals before his features twist in pain. "I guess he had. He did kill my wife and child."

Sometimes he wonders if he was so focussed on making it seem like a game because that took some of the agony out of what actually happened to him. Turning it into a game lessened its severity, and he was always good at chess – his battle with Red John lasted a lot longer than a game of chess, however. "Patrick, let's talk about Thomas McAllister's death."

"Please... let me live." The sheriff begs, panting heavily with his cowardly side shining through, but Jane doesn't think he should be surprised. Of course, the guy is a coward, but he isn't going to spare him. That was never going to happen. "I'll tell you how I got the names on your list."

"I don't care." Perhaps one day he will wonder but he hasn't obsessed for over a decade on hunting this man down to let him give an explanation. He had one goal and that was, is, to wipe him from this planet. For Angela, for Charlotte and for all his other victims, but also the loved ones of those victims who have been hurting just as much as Patrick.

"I-I knew because I have real psychic-"

"Shh..." The mentalist shushes whilst taking a harsh grasp of the man's throat, not thinking twice about what he is going to do next. McAllister gasps for breath, silently hoping that someone will find them and stop his termination but the guy with his hand wrapped around his neck isn't going to let that happen. No way. "I want you to blink once for "no" and twice for "yes."" Jane is breathing heavily, being incredibly hyped up, knowing what he is about to do. "Are you sorry that you killed my wife Angela and my daughter Charlotte?" He's trying to hold himself together, trying not to let his emotions get in the way, but the exhaustion of years of pain, anguish and fixations are suddenly hitting him hard.

Red John blinks twice, still hoping for the mentalist's mercy, but he isn't stupid, he knows that death is upon him. He gurgles for good measure. "Good. Good. Are you afraid to die?" He blinks twice again. "Good." Patrick Jane doesn't need to know more, there is no point prolonging this further. Especially if he wants a chance to get away before the FBI get him.

He was never a violent man, but he doesn't have to think twice before tightening his grip, to feel Thomas McAllister's life drain from him by his own hand. It is difficult to describe how it feels, it is almost overwhelming. The pressure in his head is extreme, his ears are ringing and the rest of the sounds of the outside world are muffled, he can only hear the serial killer's remaining breaths.

And then, nothing.

"In that moment, all the rage that I tried to supress from… everyone. Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt… just took over." It is a big admittance. He's not spoken to his wife much about what went on in those final moments, it is like they made a silent agreement that it wasn't necessary. What happened, happened. They were both just so glad that the evil man's reign of terror was finally over. Even Lisbon felt that way, despite her losing the man she loves for two years, not knowing if she was ever going to see him again. "I knew that I was going to kill him, I had no doubt about that. It was just…" He trails off, searching for the words he's looking for but struggling. He doesn't want to look like the monster in this scenario. "Much easier than I was expecting." But maybe he is, a little, maybe people are right to be wary of him. "I didn't feel any remorse or guilt about what I had done. I saw his body lying there and almost smiled." Not that it matters anymore. "Probably out of relief."

Dr Bailey pauses for a moment, not because she's writing anything down for once but because she's trying to fully process what her patient has just revealed to her. It is difficult trying to put herself in his shoes because she has never faced the horrors he has. She hasn't had her family cruelly taken from her and she didn't spend over a decade seeking vengeance. Of course, he felt relief. Surely anyone would in that situation. "You should try and talk to your wife a little about all this." She remarks, understanding from his manner that it's probably something they've not really discussed, and she would be right. "It doesn't have to be anything major, just small details and worries. It will not only help you in your journey of recovery, but I think it could strengthen your relationship."

Recovery. He has never thought of it like that before… but he supposes it is. He has spent too much of his life in pain and he doesn't want that anymore.

Instead of heading to Lisbon's condo like he usually does after his sessions, he travels to the new house, stopping only to pick up some paint for the master bedroom. He decides on an ivory for three of the walls and a deep blue for the feature wall, that he plans to cover with picture frames full of the better memories from their past but also leaving plenty of room for photos of their future. Even though Wednesdays have become clouded with his past trauma, he does have plenty of time to think about the future and as the weeks go by, he becomes surer and surer that it is going to be alright.

He's not quite certain how long he is painting for but when he hears his name called and the new front door shut, he realises that it must have been for quite some time. "There you are!" His wife exclaims, relieved because she's finally found him. "I've been ringing you." Jane frowns at this but then remembers that he left his jacket in the car and his phone is in the pocket. He mentally chastises himself for being so stupid, she could have needed him. "It's looking good in here." She compliments and his glower turns into a smile as he drops a paint roller in its tray so he can greet her properly with a soft peck on the lips.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry for going AWOL." He entwines their fingers lovingly, always enjoying the touch of her hands. "Time got away from me." His blue eyes bore into her green ones, and although he seems relatively relaxed considering what she knows today's therapy appointment would have entailed, she notes the slight flicker of anxiety. She knows that Dr Bailey has been helping him a great deal, but that doesn't mean it is easy.

He always appears his most tired on this day of the week now, and all the painting must have been fatiguing also. "It's okay." She gives his hand a squeeze with a lopsided smile, wanting to tell him how proud she is and that she's always here for him, but he knows, and if she spoke those words out loud, he would be embarrassed. "Come on, let's go and get some food. You must be hungry." Is what she settles on instead.

Patrick finds himself nodding as he scans the room at the devastation he's created. He should really do some clearing up before he leaves but he has even less energy than he previously thought so he decides against it. He can always buy new rollers but right now he wants to, no needs to spend time with his wife who continues to search his features for any indications of how his session went. He's not an idiot, he knows that this is exactly what she's doing. "Teresa…" Maybe he can give her something, more than indication that is. He gazes at her once more and she watches him swallow the lump in his throat as he finds the courage to say, "I-I wouldn't mind talking to you about some things that came up today, if that's okay?"

The brunette is both surprised but mainly very pleased at this and she cannot hide her smile when she replies with, "Of course that's okay."

A/n Episodes flashbacked:

S04E24 – The Crimson Hat

S05E16 – There Will Be Blood

S02E08 – His Red Right Hand

S06E08 – Red John