Chapter Four: Patrick Jane

The intention of Patrick Jane turning up at the industrial lot alone was in the hope that he could finally, once and for all, exact his revenge on Red John. Deep down he knew it was a bad idea, some would say suicidal, but most – namely Lisbon – would consider it stupid. Yet he was blinded by the hope and desire he had to kill the man who had destroyed his family. The situation was and always would be clear cut, Red John was his, he was going to kill him one day and no one, not even Lisbon could stop him. That was why he had to go alone, why he couldn't tell her that he'd discovered the location of where Van Pelt, Rigsby and probably Cho had been taken. Of course, Lisbon didn't even believe that Cho had been taken until she tried to ring him, to no avail, then she'd shouted at Jane down the phone until he hung up.

He was not to go anywhere near that place without back up, under no circumstance was he to do so. He didn't listen, he never listened. He knew she'd be pissed and yet he didn't care because if Red John was on the other side of that door, if he could use the gun he had in his pocket, then everything would be okay.

That was, until Cho came bursting out of the door and fell down, of course he was going to be surprised. He didn't expect anyone to come out, let alone the one person who shouldn't have even been there yet.

Two men came out of the door after him; one took hold of Cho whilst the other set his sights on Jane. He ran, as fast as he could, which wasn't fast enough, as the man chased after him. All that lying on the couch in the office did nothing for his health or fitness. He'd barely run a couple of hundred metres before his legs tensed up and he doubled over in the hope of catching his breath. He hated running and yet this job forced him to on a regular basis. In the meantime, the man had caught up and, with a gun in his hand, requested that he spread himself against the wall.

Jane followed the instruction. The man searched his person, took the gun and various other things from his pockets.

'Hey, that's my breakfast bar,' said Jane.

'So?' said the man, looking anything but impressed by his reaction.

'So I'm hungry.'

'Get inside,' the man snapped, kicking him swiftly below the knee and pushing him back towards the alley. He tensed as the gun pressed against his back, walking quickly in the hope the gun would be removed if he did as he was told.

When they arrived back into a large, empty room, Jane frowned. A small base in the middle of the room suggested his friends had been there, but he and his captor were the only people in the room. He turned to face him, cautiously, as the pressure of the gun continued to remind him of his potential fate.

'Where are they?'

'Shut up, Mr Jane, or I'll shoot you.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Jane said, hoping to call his bluff. 'Think Red John's going to be happy with you for killing his favourite enemy?'

'That's if I wasn't Red John myself…'

'You're not,' he said, scrunching up his face as he took another glance at the man. 'I can't imagine a man like Red John would wear such a cheap suit, he probably wore a retainer as a child and you sound like your teeth are as wonky as The Leaning Tower of Pisa.'

'Shut up,' the man shouted, pushing the gun harder against his back. Jane tensed but he wasn't about to give up that easily.

'Go on then,' he chuckled, ignoring the overwhelming fear rising up inside. 'Shoot me, I dare you.'

The man lowered his gun, to Jane's relief, before his heel collided with Jane's ankle and he collapsed to the ground. He groaned as he tried to move it. If the pain in his ankle wasn't so strong he'd have given the man a piece of his mind, but he could feel the break in his shin bone, minor, but enough to make it near impossible to walk.

'Now get up and get in that fucking room,' said the man. Jane stumbled to his good leg and hopped across the floor. Maybe he couldn't kill him, by order of Red John, but that didn't mean he couldn't do some serious damage.

The room that Jane hobbled into was a lot smaller than the previous one, five chairs were circled around the room. Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho were all tied up and as Jane sat down, one of the men grabbed his wrists and secured them harshly behind the back of the chair. He rested his injured foot on the ground, careful not to put too much pressure on it.

'Hi guys,' he smiled, a little sheepish at the thought of getting caught so easily. He never learned his lesson, it wasn't the first time he'd been captured by Red John, nor the first time he'd walked right into a trap.

Nobody replied, they simply looked at Jane, their eyes wide and frustrated. He felt for them, he really did. He'd suffered at the hands of this man time and time again; it was like a sport they played together, one that Red John won repeatedly. On the other hand, Rigsby and Cho had partners and Rigsby had his little boy. If he could allow just one of the three to go home, it would be Rigsby, so that his son wouldn't have to go through the pain that he'd faced losing his own family. Van Pelt looked so broken and tired; her head was bleeding and her face pale as though the blood had drained out of her skin.

The first thing he was going to do when they all got back to work, if they all got back to work, was buy them presents. He wasted too much time playing tricks and annoying them, he never showed them how much he truly cared. Aside from birthdays and Christmas, they shared little more than conversations and well wishes. They were his friends, the only family he actually had, but he didn't treat them as such. That would change, if only things worked out okay.

Jane's eyes drifted to the empty chair, five seats meant that they had to be expecting another; Lisbon. His heart fluttered painfully inside his chest. Not Lisbon.

Red John knew more about their friendship than even the team, that he had feelings beyond that of companionship and that she was just as fond of him too. Unspoken words and unexpressed emotion. The things people don't get around to saying because they always expect, and hope, that the day won't come where they regret not doing the things they should have done a long time ago. It didn't make it any easier sharing such things; especially not with the woman he would change his life for, if only she would ask.

Death had consumed him for so long. Helplessness and revenge were the only things he considered worth his time and attention, aside from the odd case and a bit of tomfoolery. He'd warded off the advances of several women, had accepted a little more than friendship from a couple, but he knew from the first day he met Lisbon that no one would ever give him the pleasure that he desired. Even Lorelei, who he'd genuinely, had feelings for, despite his knowledge that she had connections in the deepest, darkest parts of his life.

Regardless of what he's done and with whom, he knew that the only person he really wanted to move on with was the only person not sitting opposite him in a chair. He longed to see her again, if only to stare into those piercing eyes, or listen to her shout at him for disappearing on her. He longed to be shouted at for the things he shouldn't have done and yet did anyway. She made his world turn at a normal speed, something which hadn't happened since Angela.

Eventually the inevitable would happen; she would join them and then what? Would that be it for the Serious Crimes Unit? Would Red John exact his revenge on them once and for all? Revenge which Jane found rather nonsensical, if anyone was in need of revenge, it was he, not the man who he sought vengeance from.

His mind travelled towards the future, to Red John killing each and every person he loved in a matter of minutes. Of course, he'd leave Jane 'til last, what better way to do it? Make him watch his friends die, only to be forced to live a little while longer until Red John decided that he would finally have mercy.