A/N: Haha! A pretty early update for once XD

PLEASE READ THIS: Well, this was a mildly stressful chapter - not in itself, but because I realised that I'd made a major screw up in my writing. It was basically that when I said Red John's Grandmother had been killed in 1920, I realised, getting to this chapter, that it was supposed to have been Great Grandmother, and it meant that Red John would currently have to be at least about 60... so yeah, I was kicking myself for a while, whilst trying to figure out what to do. Well, I went back to the beginning, and changed the numbers, enabling the Grandmother to be used, because changing it all to Great Grandmother would be far too complicated and would mess up my story. So, it would probably be good if you could check out chapters two and five, which are the chapters that got the more important changes I believe. (Figuring out the meaning of the numbers in 2, Van Pelt's update for Lisbon in 5 and also, because it's such a small bit and probably not worth you trying to find, Red John's mom killed herself one year before Red John became Red John).

Thank you. Apologies.

Chapter 11. Letting It All Out.

I handed Lisbon my phone, butterflies flitting inside my stomach.

'We went back to the house in Knight's Parkway to see if we missed anything. Seems we did.'

I watched as my boss ran her finger along the phone's screen, sliding through the pictures of the hundred or so Red John smileys that I'd photographed inside the crumbling old house's upstairs room.

'What are all these? Practices?'

'I think these are the first smileys that Red John ever drew. They weren't meant as the calling card at first, but they slowly progressed, like he was slowly driving himself mad. See the yellow? That was the first colour. He must have used that when he first started, trying to make them happy and bright, but then he progressed to black, and finally to red. I think that was the time at which he was practicing the calling card. I called forensics to check the room - make sure that all the red smileys were paint and not blood. I mean all of them looked like paint, but I might not have seen them all properly,' I finished with a small intake of breath.

'Well done,' Lisbon praised, but her voice was quiet, 'Good...initiative.'

She handed my phone back. I pushed it into my pocket, a smile flickering across my face, 'We're going to look further into it. See if maybe he or his mother was checked into a psychiatric hospital at any point.'

Lisbon nodded. 'Good.'

I half turned towards my computer desk, ready to sit and surf the net for what I needed, before I stopped and turned back again.

'Uh...Lisbon?'

'Yeah?' she replied a little absently.

'Are you...alright?'

'Fine,' Lisbon lied to me, a slightly higher pitch to her voice, 'Why wouldn't I be?'

I tilted my head a little, looking concernedly at her. 'You just seem to be a little...absent...worried. More than usual.'

She took a moment to reply to me, giving me an almost surprised look, '...Ja-' she stopped. 'I'm fine.'

I looked down at the file I held in my hands, my gaze moving up to Lisbon's face again briefly, 'Ok,' I replied, with that flicker of a smile again, but it felt sadder than before. I returned to my desk, placing the file onto the table as I slid into my chair. I cast a look over my shoulder. I watched Lisbon's eyes flick in the direction of Jane's worn old couch before she left the bullpen.

A soft sigh parted my lips before I brought up the search engine on my computer.

'Ugh,' I muttered, giving the keyboard one final hit. A string of curses fell off my tongue as I slouched back into my chair. With Jane gone, I wouldn't know where he was or what was going on. It had all seemingly been going to plan. He had gone to his colleague's apartment, where hopefully everything had gone as it should have, and then he should have made his way back here, to me. But now the transmitter was out, for whatever reason, and that meant I didn't know whether he was coming back here or whether he'd been distracted, or caught...

I clenched my jaw, slinging my feet up on the desk surface and picking up my cup of tea. I took a sip, but I curled my lip and rejected it back to the table. It had gone luke-warm. I'd spent more time than I'd thought, thinking that I could get back the transmitter's signal back by hitting the key board like it was a game of whack-a-mole.

'Now look what you did Jane. My tea's cold,' I muttered.

I rested my head on the back of the chair, arms folded across my chest. Plan B I guess.

I looked out of the SUV's window at the psychiatric centre which was stood three miles from Knight's Parkway: Sacramento County Mental Health Treatment Centre, situated on Stockton Boulevard. Driving into the car park around the right turn entrance and pulling into a space off to the right, I applied the handbrake and killed the engine. This was the longest standing centre of all of the most local places, so I had decided, with Rigsby, that this would be the best place to look. I pushed open the heavy door and slipped from the seat onto the tarmac beneath. I marched towards the entrance, Rigsby in tow. Walking up the tree lined pathway to the entrance, I took a deep intake of cool air to my lungs, blowing it out slowly through only slightly parted lips.

Approaching the doors, they slid open automatically, granting access to the reception area. I strode confidently to the front desk. Light pine wooden panels covered the floor, and cream walls surrounded me, creating a sense of relaxation. I smiled down at the receptionist sat behind the desk, who returned the welcoming gesture.

'Hey there, I'm Grace Van Pelt, CBI,' I showed my badge to the young dark haired woman. 'We're investigating a case which may have connections to this centre. Would it be possible to see your patient records?'

'Uhh...I'm not sure about that...let me call Dr. Gareths.'

'We've...got a warrant,' I told her, holding out the warrant that Hightower had managed to procure for us.

The receptionist leant forward, examining the document, 'Ok, but I'll still need to inform Dr. Gareths.'

I waited patiently as the woman took up the phone receiver and pressed the speed dial for the doctor. I glanced at Rigsby stood beside me, who was leaning on the desk casually, his ankles crossed. We exchanged a brief smile before I heard the receptionist put the phone down and tell me that Dr. Gareths would be with us momentarily.

I nodded, a smile flitting across my lips.

It was about thirty seconds before I saw a tall, handsome grey haired man walk through a door to the left of the reception with a tired smile on his face as he met eyes with the receptionist. His face was deep set with wrinkles of either stress or age, probably a mix of both, but you could still see the attractive features beneath. He approached the desk, a white lab coat hanging off his well built frame, overlaying a shirt and jumper, and grey slacks. He offered a kindly smile in mine and Rigsby's direction. 'CBI? I'm Eli Gareths, what can I do for you?'

I smiled and nodded before proceeding to explain that we needed to see the centre's records to find out whether anyone under the name of Alayna or Jacob Immerson had been a patient between 1996 and 2000, due to the connection with on ongoing investigation. I offered the warrant, showing our authorisation to look at such files before he mentioned the doctor - patient confidentiality.

Eli checked over the document, nodding slowly. 'Ok...everything's in check here... well, I'm sure Natalie here can help you onto a computer and get you the right files up,' he cast a glance at the receptionist with a nod.

'Thank you,' I smiled, taking back the warrant.

'Of course,' Eli replied, before departing through the same door he'd entered.

Natalie motioned to a second computer beside her, 'You can use this one.' She leant over and logged on as I rounded the desk to take the seat in front of the monitor. She navigated the mouse to a records file and double-clicked, bringing up a search engine.

'There you go,' Natalie rolled her chair back to her own computer and watched briefly as I slid mine up. Rigsby stepped up behind me as I began to type.

'Evelyn...Immerson...' I murmured, typing the name into the forename and surname fields. I entered 1964 into the birth year box and tapped the enter key. I was returned with a blank screen, 'No records match your search.'

Returning to the search criteria screen, I retried with Jacob Immerson, 1983.

'No records match your search.'

I slumped in my seat. 'They're not there.'

'Uh...try the sister, Eleanor,' Rigsby suggested, 'You never know.'

'Yeahhh...ok.' I re-did the search: Eleanor Immerson, 1983. While I wasn't aware of any reason why the Eleanor would have been admitted, rather than her mother or brother, it was always going to be worth a chance. We didn't know anything about this family really, apart from the fact that it had been stricken with death and loss.

'Eureka,' I murmured, a smile picking up the corners of my mouth. On the screen before me was one search result: Eleanor Immerson, born 28th January 1983, admitted on the 5th July 2000.

'She was admitted two months before the first Red John killing,' I read out, in a voice so only Rigsby could hear.

'So what do you think? She went a bit crazy because of Jacob?'

'It says here that she was absent and unresponsive to the doctors. Rigsby, she drew faces on the wall with her own blood.' I looked up at Rigsby, who swallowed nervously, his gaze flickering to mine and back to the screen.

I looked back to the file. She was moved to another facility in Fresno in 2001 for permanent care.

'She's in Fresno. Red John's sister is in Fresno, Wayne.'

There was a short stretch of silence before Rigsby replied. 'Three hours away, right?'

I shrugged. 'Something like that.'

'Well we'll check in with Lisbon and tell her, and then we can go find Eleanor.'

I nodded, and clicked to print off the file.

'Sorry. I can't get anything out of her,' Cho told me, striding into the bullpen after having been in that interrogation room with Kristina for about twenty minutes. 'All she'll do is draw that smiley over and over.'

'I don't understand what he's done to her...' I replied, from my position on Jane's couch. I sat with my legs crossed, and my forearm resting over the other. I had a steaming cup of coffee on Jane's desk in front of me. 'She was acting like she was reasonably normal, and now she's drawing smileys on the table like she's been driven mad.'

'I don't know...' Cho said, sitting back in his chair.

'Can hypnotism work in stages?'

'Either that or she's putting on one hell of a performance.'

I looked up from running my thumb over my middle finger nail to see Van Pelt and Rigsby march around the corner, with vigour in their strides.

'Boss!' Van Pelt called just as she crossed the threshold to the bullpen.

'What is it?' I answered.

'Rigsby and I paid a visit to the county mental health centre to see if we could find Alayna or Jacob in the records. We didn't find them, but listen to this: we found Eleanor, Jacob's sister, had been admitted to the centre in 2000, and then transferred to a mental health institute in Fresno the following year. The file said that she drew faces on the wall in her own blood.'

I nodded slowly, sitting forward on the couch.

'So Red John's sister is in Fresno. We were just checking back before we were going to drive down there.'

'So it's possible that Jacob sent his sister to a psychiatric hospital?'

'Yeah. We're not sure why he would want to harm his sister though... Maybe it was self-preservation, before he started killing. To protect himself. Stop anyone from talking about him.' Van Pelt shrugged.

'Yeah, ok. Well, you go ahead. Cho and I'll stay here.'

'We'll call you when we get there,' Rigsby added, checking his watch, 'Probably about nine if we leave now.'

I nodded, 'Okay. We'll call with any updates from this end.'

Van Pelt and Rigsby were soon gone again, driving away to Fresno to hunt down the remaining Red John family tree. I sighed, pushing back into the couch again, the faded, stressed brown leather providing a cool embrace. A few minutes passed, where nothing happened but silence. Cho was sat at his desk and I was gently beginning to fall in and out of sleep. The usual soft bustle around the bullpen had seemed to dissipate since Jane had disappeared, and I couldn't really tell why.

I was stirred from my half asleep state by the couch cushion squashing down slightly on my right. I looked round, finding Cho sat beside me.

'Hey,' I murmured.

'Hey,' Cho replied softly.

For a moment, it just looked like Cho wanted to use the couch as well, but eventually he spoke.

'Lisbon.'

'Yeah?'

'You want to share anything?' he asked, turning his eyes to meet my gaze.

'...No...why?'

'There is something, isn't there?'

'Why...why would you think that?'

He gave me one of those blank looks, that he used in interrogations...just a stare until you realised he knew you were lying and there was no point saying any differently.

I looked into my lap. 'It's nothing.'

'I don't care if it's tiny. I want to know. I'm...worried about you.'

When I glanced up at him again, I could see the worry in his eyes. His face would never tell, but when you looked in his eyes, everything was there, when he wanted you to see it. He wanted me to see that he was truly concerned for his friend and colleague.

I took a deep breath in and out, fiddling with my fingers, 'It was something that happened before Jane was taken by Red John.'

Cho didn't interrupt or press me when I paused for several seconds, just allowed me my time.

'When he was driving home to find that next clue from Red John, I was worried about him, so I followed him. I just wanted to check that he was ok.'

I took another deep breath, maybe trying to give myself the confidence to continue; tell it all to another colleague.

'I guess we got a little closer than usual. He was upset; I was trying to comfort him... we just...we sat on the kitchen floor...we...' I trailed off, wiping a hand over my face, covering my mouth as I shut my eyes, 'There was just a moment where we almost...'

Cho seemed to understand. I felt his hand on my knee, his thumb gently rubbing circles through my jeans.

'I just felt so confused and lost when he was taken. We didn't have chance to talk it through properly,' I refused to let tears into my eyes, but I already felt weakened and vulnerable, 'We didn't have time.'

'It's gonna be ok,' Cho murmured.

'You sure?' I replied feebly.

'Yeah. I am.'

He didn't seem to care about the rules against a relationship inside the team; he was more interested in trying to comfort me, and accepting what I was telling him without question.

'I feel pathetic. I should be able to keep it together better than this...' I muttered.

'You're not pathetic,' Cho told me, 'It's just a situation that makes it worse for you. Don't worry. We will find him.'

I looked into Cho's eyes, a smile crossing my lips. I nodded confidently. 'Thank you,' I replied quietly.

'No problem,' Cho smiled back encouragingly.

It was 9:06pm on the car's clock when we entered Fresno. A yawn broke loose from my lips as I turned the steering wheel to drive the SUV into a motel parking lot a further few minutes into the city. The mental health institute where Eleanor Immerson had been transferred to was a matter of ten minutes or so away. As I flicked off the headlights and killed the engine, I looked across at Rigsby, who had fallen asleep in the passenger seat with a now emptied box of fries that we'd picked up on the way. I smiled sleepily. I leant over and nudged his arm gently.

'Wayne? We're here,' I murmured.

He stirred a little, and took a few seconds to blink his eyes open. 'Hmm?'

'We're here,' I repeated.

Rigsby sat up slowly and looked out of the windshield at a pink and blue neon sign declaring 'Sleepyside Motel.' Three Zs lit up in turn, pink, blue, pink, from small to large, above the name. He feebly hid a large, noisy yawn behind a balled fist.

'Come on.' I jumped out of the SUV into the starry skied world outside and shut the door behind me, waiting for Rigsby to exit the vehicle before I turned the key in the lock. With a heavy thunk, the SUV was secure, and I made my way towards the reception to get us a room.

With a $25 room for one night, Rigsby and I snuggled into the double bed, under three layers of warm blankets. I was turned towards the wall, one hand underneath my pillow, when I felt Rigsby's arm snake around my waist, and he wriggled up behind me. I smiled softly as I felt his warm breath wash over my neck and shoulder. I turned my head back, letting it rest on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to my cheek.

'Love you Grace,' he murmured.

'Love you too,' I replied, placing my hand over his, where it rested on my stomach.

The long drive had robbed me of energy, and my eyes were automatically falling shut now. I didn't resist, and it wasn't long before both myself and Rigsby were deep in the land of Z's.