A/N: Yeahhh, ok, two weeks. Sorry guys.

Chapter 7. Tell Me What This Is.

Sitting across from Kristina in an interrogation room, I could do nothing to stop the panicky ache in my heart. Yesterday, Jane had gone missing, and although my feelings weren't too clear at the moment, it felt like my stabilisers had been removed too soon while I was learning to cycle. I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't. I couldn't physically just close my eyes and become calm enough to make sleep possible. In fact, it was so impossible that I had just climbed into my jeep and driven round and round before ending up in the parking lot at CBI headquarters again at two in the morning.

For some reason, the only thing that I could do then was lie on Jane's couch and think. Think of where he could possibly be now, what could be happening, and whether he was ok. I wanted to know whether I would have felt like this if I hadn't gone round his house and hadn't been sat beside him, so close, on the kitchen floor. I wanted to know whether I would have felt angry, emotional, fearful and hateful, all at the same time, if we hadn't come so close to turning both our worlds upside down.

But now, in the interrogation room, even as I tried to concentrate on how to question Kristina, all I could think about was that haunting grin, that belonged to the serial killer we had been hunting for so many years now, for the sake of the civilians out in society, but mostly for Jane. And now Jane was the one at the merciless hands of that very man whom he held such hatred, that when you truly saw it, it was like staring into oblivion.

'Did you see Red John? Did you see his face?' I asked almost angrily.

Kristina's head cocked to one side slightly. 'No...I never saw him properly. He always wore a mask.'

'He wasn't wearing a mask when we saw him get away with Jane,' I pointed out.

Kristina shook her head. 'I don't know. Whenever I saw him, he had that...twisted Halloween mask.'

'Do you know anything that could help us? Anything that could help us find out what he's going to do next?'

Kristina looked at me, like she was staring into my soul. Maybe she sensed the slight hint of desperation in my voice that I could do nothing to hide.

'Do you care for him, Agent Lisbon?'

I was taken aback by the question and I withdrew from the table slightly. 'Of course I do. As a valued friend and colleague. But I don't see how that...'

'I see more than that...'

I stared back, before I had to look away, swallowing hard. 'No. Can we get back to the point?'

Kristina sighed heavily, 'I don't know what he's going to do next, I guess I was just bait.'

'You seem fine with that.'

'Would you prefer it if I was in floods of tears, mourning over Patrick?'

'No, but I can't help wondering why you don't seem like you were all that worried about being a hostage.'

'I had no real reason to fear for my life, I knew that he wouldn't hurt me.'

'How could you have known that?'

'His intentions were not to harm me.'

'Really?'

Kristina nodded.

'And tell me how you were aware of his intentions?'

She simply looked at me for a few seconds. 'I just knew, ok?'

'No it's not ok! Jane's missing!' I snapped.

Kristina nodded slowly. 'Look, I can tell you're suspicious of me. Perfectly understandable. But I promise I have nothing to do with what Red John is doing.'

I swallowed, staring her in the eye. 'Where's the proof?'

She sighed, 'I can't give you any... you'll have to trust me.'

'Trust you? Tell me how I am to trust you when you disappear from your house, where Jane demanded you had 24 hour protection, without raising any alarms?

Kristina didn't reply, so I continued.

'I mean, I'm sure if you had gone unwillingly with Red John, you would have called out for help; alerted someone to your situation, yes? Or if you were unconscious, someone would have noticed Red John dragging you away, yes?'

'I don't remember what happened.'

'That's convenient.'

'You have no proof to indicate that I have anything to do with, or am an accomplice in Red John's plans, so I would appreciate it if you assumed me innocent until proven guilty.'

I waited for her to go on, convince me, in my over suspicious state.

'Agent Lisbon, I would never do anything to harm Patrick, you must know that. I've never done anything but help you, so can you please just trust me?'

I stood up out of my seat, the back of my legs sending it skidding back across the floor. As I left, I heard Kristina let out a heavy sigh, and I let the door close behind me.

'Boss!' I heard Van Pelt call as I marched back into the bullpen.

'Did you find something?'

'I just got a video posted through in an email from RJ. I waited for you before I watched it.'

I briefly saw the subject of the email: from RJ with love.

'Ready?'

I nodded, my heart beginning to pound.

Van Pelt pulled up the link to the video and clicked the play button.

I watched as a hand held video camera screen shook, pointing at concrete and the toes of dirtied black boots. There was heavy, low breathing in the background. Slowly, the view moved upwards, catching the back end of a dark blue van, with no registration. My breath caught in my throat as the image rose further, and filled with Jane's body, lying unconscious in the back of the van, dead? No, shut up, of course he's not dead...

His wrists and ankles were secured with plastic tags. There was a small trickle of blood running down his face from a wound just below his hairline. My throat was suddenly dry as bone, and I felt sick to my stomach.

'Where are they?' I managed to get out.

Van Pelt shook her head softly, 'I...don't know.'

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the speakers on the computer. It sounded like a man, but slightly higher pitch.

'Don't worry...' A heavy breath... 'He's still alive...as long as he does what I say...' Another raspy breath. 'If he doesn't...you'll be hearing from Kristina soon...' The camera hovered on Jane, and it made me want to reach out, making my fingers linger on the screen, but I swallowed it back, keeping my fingers gripping on the back of Van Pelt's chair.

'Oh...and have a good day.'

The video stopped, and I was sure that my heart did for a second.

'Damn him,' I murmured, 'If he hurts Jane...'

I wiped my hand across my face and shut my eyes.

'Are you ok?' I heard Van Pelt ask quietly, worriedly.

'Yeah. Fine.' I laughed inwardly. I wouldn't even be able to look ok if I tried. I was stressed, uneasy and tired. The lack of my Jane was causing me more stress and frustration than when he was there. Who would've known? And who would've known that I would end up thinking of him as mine? My fingers traced lightly along my forehead.

'Uh...update Cho and Rigsby ok? And keep digging. Find out everything you can. And find out what's going on with the forensics from the police station. Cho did hold back the demolition yeah?'

Van Pelt nodded.

'Good. I'm going to...uh...'

'Ok. Don't worry. We've got it.'

I could tell that Van Pelt knew how I was feeling, but it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. I nodded before shuffling away, towards my office.

I collapsed backwards into my chair, causing it to bounce slightly under my sudden weight. I shut my eyes, the darkness behind my lids soothing to my sore, stinging eyes. I brought my hands to my face and drew in a deep breath.

'Why...?' I muttered softly, 'Why was it, Jane, that we had to discover the feelings that we had just before you were taken?'

I clasped my hands in front of me, my elbows resting on the desk. I placed my forehead on my hands, 'Come back ok,' I murmured, 'Come back ok.'

Suddenly, the opening of the door pierced the almost silence, breaking my thoughts apart.

'Boss,' I stated, looking up at Hightower as her head poked through the door.

'Hey Lisbon. How's it all going?'

'Uh...not good I guess.'

Hightower entered fully into my office and took a seat in front of the desk.

'Yes... Van Pelt showed me the video just now.'

I nodded stiffly.

'How are you handling it?'

'Fine. I'm fine,' I lied weakly.

'That doesn't convince me Lisbon.'

I sighed heavily, looking down in my lap.

Hightower cocked her head, the sympathy clear in her expression.

'I'm worried for him,' I murmured, 'I know what Red John does to him, and I don't want to see him have anot-' I stopped, suddenly aware that that was a topic Jane had only shared with me.

'I just don't want to see him get worse. He's already been shaken by the encounter before. We have no idea what's going to happen this time.'

Hightower nodded. 'I gather Frye doesn't know anything?'

I shook my head. 'We've got nothing. The only chance we've got is forensics. We're still waiting on them.'

'Ok...' Hightower replied softly, 'Lisbon?'

'Boss?'

'We will find him. Ok?'

I smiled weakly and nodded. 'Isn't that something you're supposed to say to the family?'

'You and the team are his family.'

I pressed my hand to the cold metal of the door to Jane's upstairs hideout, sliding it open slowly with a low grinding noise. I stepped in carefully. I wasn't really sure why I was up here. It wasn't as if Jane had planned any of this and would have left clues. But I walked in all the same, moving to the window where I stood, looking out at the view through the slight grime that clung to the cold glass panes. I couldn't really tell whether I was thinking about anything in particular. I was staring into space, my mind a blank. Which was strange really, considering how worried I felt, and how my stomach felt like it was churning and my heart ached and throbbed like it had been in a punch up the night before.

I breathed in and out slowly, the warmth clouding up the window pane slightly. I asked myself why I wasn't doing anything, and why I wasn't giving myself something to do. I turned. I couldn't just hide away and let myself think about how much I just wanted to find him, take him into my arms and hold him forever. Damn it, I couldn't let myself turn any mushier either. I was a god-damn CBI Senior Agent. Emotions weren't professional.

Just as I was about the leave however, something caught my eye. I looked to the right, where Jane's makeshift bed was. Set on the pillow, was Jane's book. I simply stared for a while debating whether to go pick it up and look or not. I looked around the room for some reason, like Jane was hiding behind a pile of rope and chains, ready to jump out if I made the slightest move towards it. I slowly stepped forward, carefully taking the book from its little hollow in the pillow. I wondered why it was here. He usually took it with him, protecting it from anyone else's prying eyes like it was a deep dark secret. That's why I felt so guilty when I flipped the cover open to a scruffily managed page of notes and thoughts. He wouldn't know, right?

I woke to a throbbing head and heavy limbs. Slowly blinking my eyes open, feeling like I had been swallowed up in a deep sleep for hundreds of years, I tried to focus my vision. Blurry black spots sprinkled across the surroundings, my head spinning. But as I continued to adjust, I felt pressure around my wrists and ankles, and I was suddenly wide awake, struggling against the plastic restraints that cut into my flesh.

I looked around, spinning my head round at break neck speed, trying to find some sort of feature in the environment. I suddenly remembered what had happened, and it all came flooding back, like a bursting dam in my memory. I felt the sting of tears prickling at my eyes as I remembered the last look on Lisbon's face as I disappeared into the old Sacramento police department, remembered the look on Kristina's face just before I fell to the ground unconscious. I felt something dry and stiff on my forehead, and the throb of pain just below my hairline. Dried blood. I suddenly noticed a dark shape in the shadows in front of me.

'You're awake...' A voice murmured. A voice that I couldn't forget if I tried. 'Good...'

I threw one last struggle at the tags binding me to the chair, feeling the tears that had crowded in my eyes begin to overspill. Here we were again. I was tied down, unable to do anything as Red John circled me like a vulture. I felt cold and panicky. I was no longer wearing my jacket, nor the vest that I had been given by Lisbon. My sleeves were rolled up messily and my waistcoat undone.

'What do you want?' I muttered as angrily as I could muster through the choking tears.

'You...needn't worry about that... I just need you to...behave.'

'I don't understand.'

'Just...do what I say and we won't have problems.'

'No,' I snapped.

I heard a soft laugh. 'Let's say if you don't...a few more people than I plan will end up...dead.'

I swallowed hard. My heart was beating so hard it could probably launch out of my chest and across the room.

'I won't let you kill anyone.'

'Oh...don't worry, Mr. Jane. I won't be the one doing the killing.'

'W...what do you mean?'

Another laugh, before Red John moved forward towards me. I tried to back away as much as I could. But the chair was fixed. I could do no more than push myself further back into it. I panicked, my heart racing a hundred miles a minute. I saw the glint of a syringe, a clear liquid spurting out of the tip as the plunger was pushed down a little. A strained sob escaped my lips as a rubbery black glove pushed my sleeve further up.

'No!' I cried, as the needle penetrated my skin.

I watched the plunger press downwards, the liquid in the syringe slowly disappearing into my arm. My head fell back, and I met eyes with the same mask I remembered from just a few weeks ago. My vision spun, becoming blurrier by the minute, but I didn't fall unconscious. I just couldn't move as my arms and legs began to feel like lead, my head feeling like it weighed several tons. Tears ran warm and thick down my face and my hands formed weak fists before I was completely paralysed, and my head was so messed up and unclear that I couldn't even think properly, let alone form words.