Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist or anything related to it.

A.N. Sorry for taking so long to update – I've had to knuckle down and do some work for exams and job interviews. I hope this is worth the wait and I promise I'll be quicker with the next update! Enjoy!

Chapter One

Patrick Jane did not resist when the Sacramento Police Department Officers closed the cuffs around his wrists, nor did he resist when he was led out to the squad car and pushed into the back seat. He only spoke once, to confirm that he was indeed Patrick Jane, in infamous CBI consultant. It was at that point that he felt he should add, "And that," he nodded at the dead body only feet away, "is Red John." At the confused and disbelieving look a couple of officers gave him he pointed out, "You know? The serial killer." The officers just looked between each other and Jane decided that talking wasn't worth the effort. His words would be lost on these people.

So instead he sat back in the squad car and revelled in his victory. Except, he didn't feel particularly victorious. But he would, he decided, as soon as the reality of what he had done settled in.

He followed the roads the squad car took and was pleased to see he was being taken straight to the CBI rather than some anonymous police station. He let his mind wander to the other members of the Serious Crimes Unit. They would possibly be disappointed with him, with his actions. Cho at least, he expected, would understand. The others, he would have to see before he could read. It had turned out quite well for them, overall, he mused. Yes, Grace's fiancée was now dead but once she got over him and she was able to comprehend that he wasn't the man she thought he was she would finally realise that she had just been settling for second best. Rigsby would be given another chance and all would be well.

Lisbon...

Jane had been completely calm since he had lay down his gun on the table but at the thought of Lisbon he felt a sense of unease growing in his gut. He truly hoped she was okay. She had sounded perfectly coherent when she had been talking to him over the phone and following his instructions, though the pain in her voice was obvious. He could assume the wound wasn't life threatening if it was treated properly but he couldn't be sure if the bullet had caused any lasting damage. It would be just like Lisbon to shrug off something serious. He felt his heart rate speeding and he fought to calm his breathing. She could be paralysed from the waist down for all he knew. He considered asking one of the officers driving him if they had heard anything about her, but he knew by the time they learnt anything he would already be at the CBI, where someone was bound to give him a more detailed report.

Twice, in a matter of days, the wellbeing of Teresa Lisbon had managed to terrify him. This was why he had tried to keep her out of this Red John business. He couldn't focus if he was too busy worrying about her.

She was going to be so disappointed in him.

He tried not to think about it.

Cho and Rigsby stood in the Viewing Room that adjoined with the Interrogation Room that Jane had been placed in. Neither Agent was entirely sure what they should do. Patrick Jane was their colleague, their friend. It was unnerving to see him in handcuffs for anything more serious than a parlour trick. The door opened and they looked up to see Gale Bertram join them. Cho met the CBI Director's stare with one of his own but Rigsby looked away sheepishly. It was never a good thing to basically accuse your boss of being a mole in his own organisation.

"Has he said anything yet?" Bertram asked Cho, seemingly putting aside the previous suspicion he was under.

"According to the Sac P.D. cops, he's claiming that the man he shot is Red John." Cho informed the Director. "He just asked about Agent Lisbon's condition when he was brought in. Hasn't said anything else."

Bertram nodded, "How is Lisbon? LaRoche said she'd been taken to Kaiser Foundation Hospital."

"I called," Rigsby injected. "They said she was stable and about to be taken into surgery. They told me to call back in two or three hours- she should be out again by then."

"Good." Bertram approached the window and stared straight out at Jane before turning back to Cho. "Jane's victim," the words sounded wrong in all their ears, "has been IDed as Vincent Pride. Find out how he knows it was Red John." At Cho's nod of understanding he added, "Keep me updated. LaRoche and Van Pelt are bringing in Hightower. Until that mess is cleared up you report to me."

He left before they could answer.

"How's Lisbon?" The question assaulted Cho's ears the moment he stepped though the door into Interrogation.

"You've been read your Miranda Rights?" Cho deflected. He was given a quick confirmation by Jane before the original question was repeated. "She's in surgery," he answered bluntly. Seeing that Jane was about bombard him with more questions on Lisbon's health, he added, "The doctor Rigsby talked to said she was stable. She should be okay."

Jane leaned back in his chair again, visibly more relieved. But Cho, in his trademark interrogation style, wasn't about to let him relax just yet.

"What the hell were you thinking?" It seemed as good a question to start with as any and it was perfectly valid.

Jane looked at him incredulously. Then the look turned patronising. Cho wondered how Lisbon put up with it. "He was Red John. I couldn't just let him walk away!"

Privately, Cho agreed, but he couldn't tell him that. "Let's start with how you knew he was Red John."

It wasn't a question and he didn't get an answer. "So he was Red John!" The blond man said triumphantly, almost as if he had been waiting for confirmation.

Cho wouldn't- couldn't give it to him. "We only have your word on that. So how did you know?"

And so the story began. Of Lisbon and the telephone call. Of the man at the table- hearing the words of the man sitting only feet away from him echoing through the phone. Of the question that was asked and the response that was given, "I have many names. Some people call me Red John."

It was there in the recount of what had occurred that Jane fell silent and Cho knew there was no way he was going to learn the intimate details of that particular conversation. Lisbon might have been able to drag it out of the consultant, but she wasn't there and even if she was there was no assurance that Jane would tell her any more than he would tell Cho.

Still, he had to ask, "But how did you know it wasn't one of his lackeys he had sent on some sort of suicide mission?"

Cho would never forget the look he saw in Jane's eyes there and then. It was the look of a haunted man who had been wronged and violated in the worst ways possible.

"He told me how they smelled when he killed them."

Jane's voice was raw, like it had happened only moments ago. There was no need to ask who they were. Even if he had, Cho wouldn't have gotten an answer. Jane was done talking. It didn't matter what questions Cho asked, Jane sat in complete silence.

Rigsby was watching the now very one way conversation between Cho and Jane when the door to the Observation Room opened and a tired and dishevelled Van Pelt walked in.

"Hey," he said softly, as to not block out the sound of Cho's questions filtering through from the other room. "How are you holding up?"

Grace nodded as she answered, "I'm okay, for now anyway." Rigsby eyed her warily in the darkness of the room. Her eyes were dry and there was none of the telltale redness of crying. Whether that was a good sign or not, he wasn't entirely sure. "What have I missed?" she asked.

Rigsby filled her in on Jane's misdemeanour with Red John and a gun, leaving nothing out. He saw her shudder when he told her how Jane had known that Vincent Pride really was the serial killer they had hunted for years. He resisted the urge to reach out for her, to hold her. Instead, he asked, "How was Lisbon when the paramedics took her? Does she know about Jane?"

Van Pelt's answer was wary, "I told her, but I'm not sure if she heard me." That worried Rigsby and he wasn't too proud to admit it. Van Pelt continued, "She was a bit out of it by then." Rigsby didn't comment, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it was the news that Jane had killed a man that had left their bosses mind in such a state.

The two watched the interrogation in silence, until it was obvious that Cho wasn't going to learn anything else from Jane. As they walked to the bullpen to begin their own search for evidence that Vincent Pride was Red John, Van Pelt spotted something that made her freeze on the spot. Through the open blinds of Lisbon's office she saw the clear dress cover hanging above the door and inside it, the pink bridesmaids dress.

Her knees buckled but her landing on the floor was softened by Rigsby's quick reflexes, catching her then lifting her to Jane's couch as her sobs broke through the quiet air.

A.N. Poor Van Pelt. I hoped I made the character's believable- I find Lisbon the easiest to write out of all of them. So more of her in the next chapter! But I had to get the rest of the team in too! Please let me know what you thought of it!

~Sweetdeath04