By the time she reached her apartment, the exhaustion of the entire week had come down crashing on her.

She sighed, pouring herself a cup of chamomile tea in the darkness of her home. She wasn't a fan of big bright lights and tonight especially, she felt like the light coming from the television was enough.

Making her way back to the couch, she snuggled into her blankets, taking a slow sip from the hot beverage.

"Patrick!"

Her eyes reluctantly focused on the live interview.

"One second." Patrick Jane smiled disarmingly and took a sip of his water.

"Give him some time." The woman playfully scolded the male interviewer.

"Absolutely!" He looked more than happy to comply. "Come on back to us."

"Oh, please." Lisbon muttered with annoyance to the empty room. "Why am I even watching this?"

The psychic on screen set the cup down. "I'm back, thank you." He said in a sweet quiet voice. The audience laughed at that.

"So, Patrick. I understand that you're also sort of a, uh, paranormal detective. Is that right?" The interviewer casually asked.

"I try to help the police when I can." He slightly nodded.

"And- and you're helping them hunt this-" He emphasized with hand gestures. "Scary serial killer. What's his name?"

"Red-"

"Red John?"

Lisbon's blood froze. She didn't have a good feeling about this.

"That's right. Red John." Jane confirmed. "He- he's killed at least eight women that we know of. The police asked me to try and get a psychic fix on him. See if I could get a sense of who this man is."

"God, you're a moron." Lisbon glared at the TV screen. Now he was trying to take over the case? What was this creature doing? What went on in his head?

"How do you do that, exactly?" The man asked in fascination. "Get a- a psychic fix on someone?"

Jane looked nothing but slightly amused. "Well, Davis. True demonic evil burns like fire. It burns with a terrible cold dark flame. I force myself to look into that flame, and I see an image of the evil doer. In this case, Red John."

The suspended agent could only sigh and blow into her tea.

"He's an ugly, tormented little man. A lonely soul. Sad, very sad."

She narrowed her eyes at the floor. "You're a moron." She said again. As guilty as she felt about it, for an honest moment she deeply wanted the conman to suffer. So many people he'd hurt and tricked. And now he was using the CBI as a step up to fame. Using Red John as a step up to money and fame.

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, the woman turned the TV off, resulting in complete silence of the apartment, unhelpfully reminding her of how lonely she was.

"I don't have time for this crap." She half heartedly scolded herself before setting the empty cup on the table.

She couldn't believe the psychic was actually true to his words. Now her boss trusted Jane more than his own agent, and she lost the case of the serial killer. The duration of her suspension was dependable on Patrick Jane's mood, whether he wanted her in the office or not, and not to mention all those time-wasting hours of Anger Management classes she had to take.

Letting out a loud groan, she decided she had a day too crappy to get to her bedroom. Swallowing her dry mouth, she pushed a nagging feeling aside and tried to close her eyes.


The ringing of her phone woke her up way too early in the morning. Well, early for a day off.

"Lisbon." She grunted out as she answered it, rubbing her tired eyes with her free hand.

"I hope I haven't woken you up, agent." Minelli's voice came through the device and Lisbon instantly straightened. "But we have a new case that can't wait."

"But I thought I was suspended." She voiced her confusion.

"Not anymore. Like I said, this one can't wait. I need you present in the office ASAP. Just try to behave yourself." He warned, but it sounded half-hearted and distracted.

"Alright, I'll be there." Sleep now forgotten, she slipped into her professional attitude and hung up, wondering what kind of blessing in disguise was waiting for her today.

Within an hour she was walking into the CBI building, her eyes searching for her team to explain the situation to her. She spotted Van Pelt and approached the rookie, who looked somehow shaken. "Van Pelt? What's going on? What's the situation?"

Instead of reading the report like usually did, she gazed at her with a troubled expression. Her lower lip was trembling and her reddened eyes indicated that she'd been crying.

"Grace?" She called more softly. "Hey, what happened? I can't help until I know what's going on. Talk to me."

The girl shook her head no, instead handed her the file she held in her hand. Lisbon frowned, but accepted it and began skimming through the page.

The fist detail that struck her was the picture of the crime scene. A red smiley face, painted on the wall with blood. "It's Red John." She muttered. The other didn't comment, looking like she was trying not to break down.

She froze as she reached the name of the victim… no, victims.

"Angela and Charlotte Jane." Van Pelt sobbed out into her hand. "I'm s-so sorry boss. But I was there, and I didn't know it was them a-and it was horrible! Oh god, poor Jane-"

"Where is he now?" The senior Agent managed to ask through the shock.

She sniffed. "I don't know. They were saying he disappeared after they got him out of questioning. They're looking for him now."

Lisbon opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to form the words. All of it was so sudden. She violently shook her head. "Ugh. Look, I know they were good friends of ours, but we shouldn't let personal issues come between our work, Van Pelt. I'm going to need to see Jane's interrogation footage. If I'm sure he can't get us any useful information, stop looking for him so hard and start looking for actual evidence." She told her in all seriousness while at the same time conveying intense compassion with her eyes.

The redhead stayed silent for a moment, then showed a weak smile. "Thanks boss, I will. I told Minelli you were necessary for the team."

She returned the smile, feeling touched, and wiped a tear off the younger one's face. "C'mon, get yourself washed up a little. We're in this together." With one last nod, she left.

For the first time properly looking around, she noticed how all the agents looked distressed. And the small angry crowd by the elevator seemed to be a great factor of it. Stepping closer, she spotted Brenda, the woman who was here for Jane a few days ago.

"Why aren't you letting us see him?" Another woman growled to the security guard. "We have appointments- oh, I will be speaking to your superiors about this. This is outrageous!"

"Ladies!" Agent Lisbon growled, getting the attention of the females. "Stop harassing the guard. Mr. Jane isn't here today, all your appointments are cancelled. Just please go home-"

"When do we come back?"

"How the hell would I know?!" Her furious outburst went unnoticed in the hubbub of the rest of her colleagues. "I'm not his secretary! If it helps, I'll tell him to contact all of you when he returns. For now, please leave this-" She tried to guide the women towards the elevator. The guard also took the hint and stepped forward to help.

"Well, take our names, then!" Brenda demanded who sounded frustrated.

"If he talks to the dead, I'm sure Mr. Jane can tell which one of you was here today." She forced a strained smile. "We have a murder to solve, so please don't make it more difficult than it has to be. Have a nice day!" She gritted out as the elevator door closed.

As she stepped back, she panted in mental exhaustion. "Tell them not to let any more of his clients in. Hey, did you see Jane go down this elevator today?" She asked the guard.

She shrugged. "I did, but I didn't try to stop him. I didn't know. Sorry."

"Don't be." She brushed it off. "Just watch out for any crazy women who want to find their way to Jane."

"Got it."

In the observation room, Cho was going through Jane's footage.

"You were the one questioning him?" Lisbon asked with a sigh as she walked in.

"Yeah. He seemed pretty out of it." He responded and stepped back, crossing his arms. "I couldn't get much out of him."

"It's fine." She pursed her lips and leaned down to play the tape.

She felt a pang of pity for the man once he saw the deep lost look in his face. He was still wearing the same suit he had in the interview, and his hair was wild and untidy, unlike his usual style.

"Patrick Jane."

He didn't react.

"When was the last time you saw your family, Jane?"

Jane continued to stare to the camera in confusion.

"Like he's waiting for the dream to be over." Lisbon remarked softly.

"He looked haunted." Cho added.

"Jane, when did you last see Angela?"

The man gulped. "I… made her cry today."

"Oh, Jane." She couldn't help but feel guilty.

"You mean yesterday. Before you went to the show."

He nodded.

"What did you say that made her cry?"

"I made her cry today." Another hollow echo.

"Why?"

"I made her cry today. It's all my fault."

"Why did you make her cry? How is it your fault?"

"…"

"Jane, I need you to cooperate. Were you there when it all happened? Were you a witness?"

The shaken man shook his head no.

"Do you think this was Red John's doing? No copycat?"

"It's all my fault." His voice broke, miserable eyes still staring at the camera.

"Was it Red John?"

"It was me."

"You killed Angela and Charlotte?" Said Cho's monotone.

"No. I got them killed. I know that."

"How do you know that?"

"Red John told me."

Lisbon gasped in a breath.

"You talked to Red John?"

"No, but he told me."

"How?"

"They took it as evidence. I have nothing else to give you."

The video ended with a sigh on Cho's side.

"Well? What do you think, boss?"

"Where's the evidence he was talking about?" She wondered. Cho slid a paper in an evidence bag towards her on the table.

She picked it up and scanned the text. "Dear Mr. Jane…" She murmured the words inaudibly to herself. "… dirty money-grubbing.. fraud. If you were a real psychic instead of dishonest little worm, you wouldn't have to…. Oh god." She stared at the message in horror.

"Apparently it was pinned to the bedroom door where the killer left the bodies. No wonder he was unresponsive." Cho sighed.

"And no one knows where he is?" She asked with great worry.

"He left a note saying not to look for him. What do we do with that, boss?" He awaited her command.

Lisbon frowned, torn between wanting to find the man and give him medical treatment and leaving him to rot. The dilemma aroused mixed feelings in her mind.

"Stop the search. Let him do what he wants." She finally decided.


Six Months Later:

Teresa Lisbon stepped through the door along with her agent, Cho.

She originally didn't know what to expect of a mental asylum, but that day, it seemed to be a rather quiet place, if not peaceful.

"Hello there. You must be Agent Lisbon." A blond woman with a soothing aura approached her, smiling calmly as if there was no murder in the facility. "Dr. Sophie Miller. I'm here to help in any way I can." She offered a had for her to shake, which Lisbon accepted with a smile of her own.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Miller. Is the crime scene tampered with at all?"

She shook his head. "I had them keep it intact until you arrived. Follow me. It's just down this hall."

As the doctor led the way, Lisbon couldn't help but steal glances from the different people in the hallway. Some were very young, while the others might've reached the age of eighty or more. It distracted her until the psychiatrist spoke again.

"I apologize that they might have dragged you here Ms. Lisbon." She sounded slightly hesitant as she stopped to put a hand on a door handle. "But I'm not sure if this case is a murder at all. I insisted they look deeper into Mr. Sanchez's case, but I guess his father had connections, hence your presence here."

"So you don't think it's a murder?" Lisbon furrowed her brows as they entered the white themed room. A man- or more precisely a corpse was laying still on the bed.

"I said I'm not sure." She corrected her.

"So there's a natural cause of death." The agent guessed. "I thought if that's the case, you'd be able to tell."

Dr. Miller sighed. "Not natural. There's definitely arsenic in his blood. It's not impossible to get a hand on its supplies around here."

Lisbon hummed in deep thought, inspecting the body.

"I have some patients I need to tend to. If you needed anything, just call for me, agent."

"Thanks for your help." She nodded her off, back to the body. Her heart sank at how young the man was.

Checking his hands and feet, as suspected, the skin was damaged from the inside. And his nails showed more proof to that.

They reported his death less than two hours ago, so she could still see the extreme flush of his skin before it turned ghost white as time passed. Her eyes checked for a name tag.

"Bradley Sanchez." She murmured, appraising the body. She was going to need gloves to touch anything in the room, but made a note to search it thoroughly herself.

"Don't bother."

The old familiar voice stilled her. She held her breath.

"It's a suicide."

Sharply turning around, she was met with no other than Patrick Jane in white clothes, smiling at her casually.