A/N- OK, I took a bit of artistic license here, having just treated myself to a little Mentalist marathon. This picks up at the end of "Seeing Red". Jisbon, rated M for future chapters, we'll jump a couple episodes after this one. Reviews welcome, as I am still very much a newbie.

Chapter One

Patrick Jane sat in the interrogation room after Kristina Frye had departed, trying and failing to control the flood of emotion that hit him like a tidal wave.

"Your wife wants you to know that your daughter never woke up. She wasn't scared." Frye had said. Jane took a deep breath, unaware that he was being watched.

Grace VanPelt had seen Kristina Frye hurry down the hall, Jane nowhere in sight. Knowing that they had exited the bullpen together, VanPelt was curious. Where was Jane? She walked down the hall, headed in the direction she had seen them take, and saw a flash of blue, Jane's shirt, in the partially open doorway of Interrogation Room 209. Prepared with another teasing barb, VanPelt's words died in her throat as she saw Jane shudder. Looking more closely, she was stunned, he was crying. VanPelt quietly eased the door closed, ensuring that no one would intrude, and sped off down the hall.

Agent Teresa Lisbon was sitting at her desk when the junior agent ran in. One look at VanPelt's stricken face had Lisbon on her feet in a flash.

"What is it, VanPelt?" There was no answer, she was clearly upset. Lisbon walked around the desk and placed a hand on VanPelt's arm. "Grace? What's wrong?"

"He's crying."

"Who? Who's crying?"

"Jane. In the interrogation room. Kristina Frye just left, and he's crying. What could she have said to him to make him cry?" VanPelt's last words were unheard, Lisbon was already out the door.

There was no sound from the room. Lisbon eased the door open slowly. He was still there, his back angled so that she could not see all of his face, but he was definitely crying, and crying hard. Lisbon closed the door behind her, turning to place a hand on Jane's back. He started, turning to face her, and just as quickly trying to wipe the tears from his face. Wordlessly, Lisbon pulled a tissue from her pocket and offered it. Just as wordlessly, it was taken. Lisbon sat, waiting for Jane to speak.

"I'm fine."

"No one said you weren't.

"How did you…?"

"VanPelt. She saw you and came to get me. No one else knows. Jane…?"

"It's nothing. I'm OK." Lisbon ignored him.

"What did that woman say to you, Jane?"

"Nothing of concern,"

"Well, it obviously concerned you. Please, Patrick, talk to me. What did she say to upset you? Did she hurt you? If she hurt you, I'll…."

"No, Lisbon, she didn't hurt me."

"Well, WHAT, then? One minute you're fine, the next you're in tears in an interrogation room, after you talk to her. One has to make the assumption…" Lisbon trailed off as Jane's shoulders slumped.

"She said that my wife…..my daughter….she wasn't scared." Jane slumped further as new tears started to wind their way down his face. Moving to him, Teresa silently opened her arms. With a moment's hesitation, Jane stepped into them, allowing her to comfort him as best she could, taking care not to topple her.

At length, Jane seemed to regain himself; Lisbon felt him ease himself out of her embrace, watched him wipe his face again.

"Thanks.

"Don't mention it."

Opening the door, Teresa looked out. Empty. The other agents had gone home. She headed to her desk , gathering her purse and keys. Turning, she saw Jane bedding down on the ratty brown leather couch that he had appropriated from her office.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep, Lisbon, why?"

"Uh-uh, Jane, get up. I don't want you alone tonight, you can stay with me. I have an extra room, but you can have my couch if you'd prefer. C'mon, I'll run you by your place so you can get a change of clothes. You do have a place, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"No buts. Get your coat." Jane complied, following Lisbon out the door and to the elevators. He reluctantly gave her directions to his house, and sat back, dreading the return to the place that held so many painful memories.

Teresa looked up at the gorgeous façade that loomed in front of the car. Jane seemed nonplussed.

"This is your house? It's amazing!"

"Thank you. I used to like it." Jane hesitated, then decided he might as well go for broke. "You…you can come in, if you like. I'll only be a minute."

"Thank you, Jane, I will." Teresa followed him into the house, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the décor his wife had been so proud of. Jane ascended the stairs to the master bedroom, walking in and pulling a small overnight case from his closet, taking great care to keep his eyes squarely on the task at hand. So focused on his packing, Jane never heard Lisbon enter until he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Whirling, Jane spun to face her.

Lisbon felt as if all the air in the room had just been vacuumed out. In the corner of her vision, she saw Jane turn to face her, but her focus remained on the horrific scene in front of her. There, on the wall, Red John's calling card remained, etched onto the wall in Jane's family's blood. And further still, no, it couldn't be…Teresa shook her head; it was still there. A mattress, fully made up and lying directly below the ironic happy face. Teresa felt her eyes fill with tears. Poor Jane. Punishing himself for God knew how long, sleeping under that thing. Teresa was startled out of her musings by the sound of a zipper. Jane was closing the case that he had been packing when she entered the room. Picking it up, he turned.

"Shall we?" he gestured to the door.

"Yeah…sure" Teresa exited the bedroom, Jane following and carefully closing the door behind him. They made their way to the car in silence, arriving at Lisbon's house without a word spoken. Lisbon opened the door, tossing her keys on the side table as she entered.

"Come on in, excuse the mess. I'll show you your room if you want to put your bag down." Jane followed her down the hall, arriving at a small but well-appointed bedroom with an antique four-poster and matching night table fashioned out of what appeared to be mahogany. A claret duvet and matching shams trimmed in navy and hunter green set off navy drapes and a matching rug. The hardwood floors, heart pine or he'd miss his guess, were polished to a high shine. Jane turned giving a slightly anxious-looking Lisbon an approving nod.

"Nice digs, Lisbon. Very classy." She grinned.

"Well, it's home. You hungry?"

"Nah, I'm fine. You go ahead."

"OK, if you're sure." Lisbon headed back down the hall, then paused, turning to retrace her steps, stopping just inside the doorway. "Um, Jane."

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know…"

"Yes?" Now Jane turned to face her.

"Well, um, if you need to talk, I'm here. And you're welcome to stay as long as you like." God, she was blushing. Teresa ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't see, but immediately felt strong fingers nudging her chin back up. She raised her eyes to meet Jane's, seeing his face coming closer.

Jane gently tilted Teresa's face up, then brushed her cheek with his lips. "Thanks." he said softly, then turned to finish his unpacking, leaving her to stand, frozen to the spot.

Teresa gave herself a mental shake, enough to respond, "You're welcome." before stumbling into her room, no longer hungry. Closing her door, she sat on her bed, her had lightly touching the place Jane had kissed. Ooooh, boy, what have I gotten myself into now?

A/N-OK, I know, slow start, but it's 1st season, I don't want them hitting the sack right out of the chute. It'll get better, I swear! Let me know what you think, please!