Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the late update. I've had a hell of a week and I didn't have time to write and upload. I hope you'll forgive me and accept this chapter as an apology…:)
Also, thank you all so much for the amazing feedback on the first chapter! I'm thrilled to see that you are interested and you like the story… Every word that you wrote and every alert made my heart melt, so thanks for making my life brighter! :)
Now, as promised there is a flashback in this chapter (the parts in slanted) , I hope you will like it!

Disclaimer: Nope, the show's not mine…

Chapter 2

They caught him. Caught Red John. It had been almost a year, but it was still so clear in Lisbon's mind like it was yesterday. The panic rising in her, the control of the situation running through her fingers like sand, the bloodcurdling fear, and the final gunshot.

Jane slipped out of the bullpen somewhere along the afternoon. It wasn't unusual, he did it almost every week, but that day was different. Because it was the 'big case'. It was Red John, and he was so close. Lisbon's heart raced faster in her chest every time a new lead, a new clue came into view. It was suspicious. Like the serial killer wanted to be caught. It gave her an uneasy feeling, but she repressed it, going with the flow.

It took her more than an hour to realize that Jane wasn't just taking a nap in the attic, or going out for a tea, or a walk. Later she cursed herself for it so many times. How could she miss that? Maybe she was too immersed in the case to notice Jane's plan.

When it occurred to her, it was already too late. Jane was gone without any clue to where he was headed. Of course he wouldn't leave any footprints behind if he didn't want them to follow...

But she wasn't the leader of this team by accident, she looked at every information again, really carefully. Trying to think 'out of the box', like Jane would do. She kept asking herself 'What would I see if I were Jane?'. Her persistent searching was successful, and she found the tiny hints in the murder of the young girl. Though she was too slow for her own liking. She left a message for Cho, who was interviewing a suspect with VanPelt, since Rigsby was on sick leave. Then she didn't hesitate any longer, she rode the elevator down to the parking lot, and drove off in a dangerous speed.

She was right about Jane's trip. She found his car next to the entrance of a park, left there carelessly, with open doors.

She asked around, and a guy selling hot dogs remembered seeing a "blond man walking away with another fella' wearing a hoodie and a cap". She followed his instructions, and soon walked on a deserted, narrow street.

She almost missed it. The small red drop on one of the steps leading to a door. But in the last minute she spotted it, and stopped dead in her tracks. It looked like blood, and it gave her shudders. It couldn't be Jane's blood!

She ran up the few steps, and pushing at the door she found it open. Not that she was surprised. Red John probably wanted to trap and then kill them. Just like that. It was kind of a genius plan, she had to admit. He lures Jane to a place like this, dark and empty. And of course Lisbon would go after her consultant, trying to save his ass again. This way Red John could kill them both without much effort.

She strolled along a long corridor with stuffy air. Her senses were sharpened to any sound or movement, but it was all still. She looked into rooms, opened doors, searched for stairs or secret entrances. There was none. She was about to go back to the door, maybe call Cho and ask him to check out this neighborhood, when someone knocked her to the ground. It was too dark for her to see properly, and even though she did everything in her strength to fight, she soon found herself pinned to the ground, then it all went black.

She remembered coming back to consciousness. The dizzy feeling in her head, then the confusing little sounds that came from right beside her. Small whimpers, then panting. She managed to push her eyelids open, squinting instantly as she saw the light from the single lamp in the room. Her neck was numb, stinging at one point under her ear. As she looked to her right she realized that the strange, pained sounds came from Jane. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her friend hanging from the ceiling by the rope tied to his wrists. His face was pale, and his hands were bloody. His pretty crystal eyes were half closed, and his expression told Lisbon that he was hurt.

She was tied to a chair, about twenty feet away from him, a gag in her mouth keeping her from talking to Jane. She squirmed in her seat, making it sway dangerously. But the noise was enough to get Jane's attention. His eyes fluttered open, and as he focused them on her, Lisbon saw shock register on his face.

"Lisbon!" he croaked, moisturizing his probably dry lips.

She let out a strangled moan helplessly, roaming his body for signs of severe physical injury. He seemed weary, and weaker than she had ever seen him. A violent tremble shook her and she felt tears escaping her eyes, flowing down her cheeks.

"Lisbon why did you come after me?" his devastated whisper broke the silence. Being unable to answer him, and more importantly to demand answers from him drove her crazy.

She tugged at her ropes, but there was no hope of getting rid of them.

"I didn't want you to be here Lisbon! I don't want you in danger! I can't let you..." his voice died away, his face contorting with pain as he moved a bit, and she squeezed her eyes shut as the ropes cut into his skin more deeply.

Just then the door creaked open and goose bumps appeared all over her from the sweep of cool air that invaded the room.

"How good to see you finally awake, Agent Lisbon!" a creepy, high voice said as the owner stepped into the room.

Lisbon couldn't see Red John's face because he carefully stayed in the darkness. When he walked closer to her, and stepped over the lighting was too blinding, and she didn't see his facial expressions. But one thing got engraved into her mind for eternity. His evil, merciless, almost black irises.

He walked behind her back, and for a moment the tension was unbearable in the room. Lisbon saw from the corner of her eye as Jane tried to catch a glance at the serial killer, twisting his body in an impossible, but probably really painful angle. Her blood was thumping in her ear loudly.

The only sound that broke the frightening quietude was the small crack, followed by a quickly muffled scream from Lisbon. Red John chuckled amusedly behind her and pinched her now broken pinky once more, causing more pain to run through her whole arm.

"Don't!" Jane's cry filled the room, his tone on the edge of begging.

"Oh why not Patrick? Dear Teresa here has to have some fun too! It's not fair if only you get all the attention..." Red John laughed out loud. The sound dry and humorless. The laughter of a broken man.

"Please don't hurt her..." Jane pleaded, his body still turned towards them and Lisbon could see how it hurt him. His lips trembled and his eyes were narrowed from the effort to keep his strong façade up.

"I have to Patrick! Especially now, that I saw how much it hurts you to see it..." the man told Jane, and he hung is head.

"I'm so sorry Teresa!" Jane whispered with half closed eyes.

"Oh, first name basis! Terrific!" Red John cheered before he bent down, and without any warning broke another one of her fingers.

The burning pain was immediate, and she couldn't stop the short yell and the sharp intake of breath. She gritted her teeth and lifted her chin, not willing to give this monster what he wanted. He could break her fingers one by one, and she won't even wince. Especially not when he did it to hurt Jane!

He didn't break all her fingers. No. But he did far worse things. Half an hour later she was drenched in sweat and her lips were bloody from the way she bit into the gag to keep from screaming. She was half unconscious when she noticed Red John moving away from her to the motionlessly hanging form of Jane. The blond man stopped begging and crying after ten minutes, choosing to fix his eyes on the ground, and only muttering broken apologies to her every time a sound broke free from her lips. His hands were fisted so tight that his fingers were white.

Lisbon couldn't open her eyes, but she heard a loud thud and the groan from Jane which made her nauseous. She knew she couldn't help him, and that made it even worse. She couldn't sit there and listen as Red John killed Jane. She'd rather die!

But her hands were tied. Literally. And all her power left her. So she was forced to listen as the serial killer tortured Jane to a point where her consultant was no longer making any sound.

She could never forget the tiny creak of a floorboard and the surprised yelp of Red John. Then the two quick gunshots, and after a moment a third. She was too weak to lift her head, but she could remember the overwhelming relief when Grace VanPelt's familiar voice called her name, asking if she was okay, and a gentle touch on her arm telling her that her agent was right beside her.

The first thing she gasped when the gag was taken out of her mouth was:

"Jane!"

She often woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, crying Jane's name out loud into the darkness. She believed it was even worse now, that he wasn't there with her most of the nights. She could still remember that night, straight after they closed the Red John case for good. The night that changed everything for them.

He showed up at her doorstep, late at night. His eyes puffy and red, and heartbreakingly sad. He didn't say a word, only stared at her with ocean blue eyes filled with utmost desperation.

She ushered him inside, then went into her small kitchen to prepare a tea. Her mind throwing loads of questions at her as she boiled the water, taking out two teabags from a drawer. When she got home, she had taken a long shower and was about to snuggle up in her bed with a book when Jane unexpectedly showed up.

She tried to forget about the case. The cruelty, the panic of it. But in the moment she looked into Jane's eyes she knew there would be no forgetting. Not tonight, not ever. But certainly not tonight.

When she reappeared in her living room, one mug of steaming tea in each hand, she found Jane in the same spot as earlier. He was looking at the floor, fingers playing with the edge of his vest.

"Jane, come on... Sit!" she told him, and for once in a lifetime he did as she ordered. He slumped down on her couch and his fingers automatically wrapped around the cup she was handing him. "What's wrong, Patrick?" she asked, and the sound of his first name rolling from her lips tore him out of his trance for a second. He turned his face towards her and his look broke her to pieces. His usual mask was destroyed, his emotions clear and raw, all written over his face.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating somewhere? He's dead, Jane!" she nudged his side playfully, her tone half tender and half teasing.

"That's the thing Lisbon!" he said bitterly, speaking for the first time since he arrived. His tone raspy, and voice trembling. It made her even more concerned. "He's gone, and I don't feel anything!" he exclaimed hopelessly. "I don't feel like celebrating, or drinking, or laughing or crying for that matter. I can't go to the cemetery, to them, I simply can't. This is what I wanted for so long, and I don't feel anything Teresa..." he sighed and his eyes teared up a bit.

"Jane..." she murmured, not quite sure how to console him. She laid a hand on his knee and squeezed gently. "It will be all right, you will come around!" she assured him. He put his mug on the coffee table and turned his entire body towards her.

"I know I will. And I have you to help me, right Teresa?" he said, his voice low and intimate, his blue eyes glaring into her very soul.

"Yes, I'll be right beside you!" she nodded and smiled softly.

Jane's lips curled up, his eyes sparkling. He reached out, and got the teacup out of her hands, and put it on the table next to his. Then, he didn't let go of her hand as she expected, but held onto it while he searched for her eyes.
She raised her eyebrows questioningly, but froze when she saw his serious expression. He lightly trailed his other hand up her arm, leaving goose bumps on his way and rested his hand on her neck. She shivered, but didn't move away, mouth threatening to fell open in surprise.

"Jane!" she breathed, but he silenced her with a loving smile.

"Shh!" he swayed his head, then leaned closer, his index and middle finger caressing the skin beneath her ear, slipping into her hair.

Her heart was beating fast, racing so crazily that she was certain it was going to jump out of her chest. She felt her cheeks warm up, a blush spreading on her face.

His face was mere inches away from her when he stopped. Their eyes still connected, and she knew he was waiting for her. His irises turned dark, his pupils dilated, his breathing heavy. But he was waiting for her to take the last step.

Her head was spinning but his barely there touches on her neck seemed to relax her a little. She concentrated on his fingers, and she let her eyes slip closed before she leaped forward, pushing her lips ever so gently against his in the sweetest kiss possible.

And that was the night that had started a roughly six-months-long period of some sort of dating for them.

Since then they never said Red John's name out loud. If it's necessary to talk about him they only refer to him as 'Him' or 'you know'... Since then she doesn't want to hear about serial killers. Her team got one case two months ago with a serial killer, and they decided to give it to another unit. Neither of them was ready for it yet...

So, what do you think? Was it good? Bad?
Thank you everybody for reading!
I can't wait to hear your opinion, so please please write a review for me! You know how it goes, reviews make my heart warm, my sun shine brighter and my fingers quicker! ;)
Next chapter will be up just like this, hopefully sooner but at the latest in a week!
Until then, xxx