Jane woke to a feeling of fluffiness. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, everything felt and sounded muffled and even the bed where he lay, felt fluffy. This made him to open his eyes and sit up. A bed! Where the hell was he and where was Lisbon? The last thing he could remember was sitting on the park bench with her and something stinging in his neck. He vaguely remembered gun shots and Lisbon shouting, but nothing definite.

He looked around and found himself in a bedroom in an old house with large windows on one side. A fireplace was set on one wall and it had a fire going, which warmed him nicely. He got up to look out of the window and noticed two things. One, he wasn't injured except for the fuzzy feeling and two, he was still wearing the same clothes including his shoes.

Jane walked to the window and was shocked to find himself looking at trees and a vast garden covered in snow. Now he was even more confused, how long had he been out? A door clicked open behind him and he whirled around to see a maid in a crisp uniform come in carrying a tray, followed by two men with guns drawn.

"Good morning gentlemen. The guns are a bit over the top, aren't they?", Jane smiled charmingly at them. The men didn't react, but the maid was clearly taken aback by his cheerfulness.

"Your breakfast, sir", she said quietly after putting down the tray and left with the two men in tow. Jane walked over and peeked at the tray. The food seemed perfectly fine and he was ravenous. Whoever was behind this stunt would surely not try to kill him by poisoning after all the trouble they had gone through to bring him here. Where ever here was. Jane sat down and attacked the food.

XXX

After the breakfast Jane had searched the room from top to bottom, but found only that the door and the windows were locked and that he was held on the second floor. And during the hour he had been sitting at the window, he had seen, neither heard anyone.

The door suddenly opened again to reveal the two gun men who gruffly told Jane to follow them. They walked through the old house along narrow corridors Jane nattering cheerfully away and he was pleased to notice that this annoyed the guards to no end, although they didn't react. He was shown into a large room with a fireplace roaring on one wall and a figure sitting in a large armchair next to the fire.

"Come closer, my dear", came a fragile voice from the chair and as the guards motioned him forwards, Jane walked to the chair to find an old lady sitting in it, looking regal in spite of the fragile voice. Jane thought that she was Italian based on her facial features and colouring and on the slight hint of an accent in her English.

"I'm sorry I had to take such drastic measures, but I had to bring you directly here as soon as possible", she said gesturing to Jane to take a seat to which he complied.

"Not that I don't like the idea of a country retreat and a little holiday, but why am I here?", Jane asked still smiling charmingly.

"You are psychic and I need you gift", the woman answered as it was obvious to everyone.

"Ma'am, I'm not psychic", Jane gently told her, not prepared for the angry outburst that followed.

"I have seen you in TV and kept an eye on your career with the police. You are a psychic if I tell you so! I was warned about your arrogance and your tricks and that's why I arranged for you to be brought here without being aware where you are. You are not going to leave. Ever", the old woman carried on ranting about his responsibilities to use his gifts and how she had made sure that nobody would come after him. Jane could only look at her dumbfounded without getting a word in.

"Just so that we are clear. Your duty is to read the mind of my husband who suffered a stroke and can't speak. You are to report only to me. I need all the information to arrange the Family business as there are things that only he knows and the stroke took us by surprise".

"You will not go anywhere unescorted and will be kept locked into your room. The meals will be brought to you. If you try to escape, you will be punished", the old lady continued.

"Do not think that someone will come to rescue you. We have used all the facilities of the Family to make sure that your trail is well hidden and that woman of yours will not come as she is dead", she concluded.

Jane was filled by cold dread. Lisbon couldn't be dead, could she? He could remember the shots, but she had been still shouting. While he was sitting shock still, the woman gestured to the guard who turned on the TV on one of the walls.

"See for yourself", she said and Jane was faced with a newsreader outside a hospital reporting of a mob style hit, which had left a federal agent dead and another one missing. All of the sudden Jane could see Cho at the background and although he looked stoic, Jane could see the tell tale signs that the man was distressed. Jane's face went pale and he turned around, now angry, all traces of cheerfulness gone.

"How do you expect me to do anything after killing her? You are insane!", Jane shouted losing all control that he had held onto, standing up glaring at the old woman, which caused the guards to come closer and aim their guns at him. The old lady gestured to them to stay back.

"If you don't do as we ask, first the rest of your team will be killed one by one until you are the only one left. You will be then killed slowly. After we are done, even that fool, Red John, won't be able to find your remains", the old lady coolly explained. Jane felt physically sick, he was sweating and the only thing filling his mind was grief and guilt for Lisbon's death. A mantra of "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry", was running in a loop in his ears and he was barely aware that he was being led away. A maid opened the door to him and the guards escorting him out, but Jane failed to see the veiled sympathy on her face.

Once Jane was locked in again, he stood in the middle of the room, still in shock. He couldn't believe that Lisbon was gone. There must have been some mistake or they had staged the death. He couldn't give in to the doubt that maybe the news had been real. But the face of Cho haunted him.

He couldn't admit it to himself that the person that he finally had come to care about a great deal, who he had tried to protect from Red John by keeping her at arms length, was now dead because of him and because some delusional old woman though that he could read minds. Once again his past as a fake psychic had come to haunt him.

Jane took the seat again in the chair beside the window, staring out to the winter wonderland and felt his soul fleeing a tear by tear as his cheeks grew wet as he wept.

TBC