A/N: This story is really starting to take on a life of its own. I'm not sure how I feel about this story as a whole. There are pieces that I like, but regardless I am glad that you are reading. If you have any suggestions let me know! Otherwise happy reading! Spoilers for the season 6 commercial.

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Mentalist

Unending

The horror he felt when he lost his wife and daughter has been an unending burden he never thought he would lose. The truth is, he never will. Yet, the absolute devastation has begun to relinquish its hold. He still carries his regrets and sorrows with hem every day, and he honestly doubts he will ever fully release them. Someone that has been through as much as he has rarely does. He doesn't hope for recovery, in fact he isn't sure he even wants to consider moving on from all of this. So much of his life has been dedicated to reading people, but he can't get a good read on himself.

He walks along the beach outside his Malibu home contemplating all that life has brought him. He tosses around the idea of moving to the East Coast. It would mean a brand new start in a place that hasn't been tainted by Red John. No one would connect him with the monster anymore. He could become a private investigator or get a job entertaining again. There will always be people waiting to be entertained. Of course, that life doesn't have the same draw it once did. Too much has happened, and taking advantage of honest people once again sickens him slightly.

The breeze coming off the water at night sends a small shiver through his frame. He can remember many nights walking along this beach trying to gather his thoughts and feelings. He isn't sure he is ready to give that up. He meant to come here, pack and go, but something is holding him back. There are memories that refuse to be buried and people that will not leave him alone and get lost in his memory palace.

Mistakes have been made by many, but few as egregious as he views his have been. Leaving the people here would be a blessing to them. They would not have to see him in a state that is almost as bad as when he lost the two people that were his entire life. He didn't want their pity, didn't want them to see him like this. He has finally allowed himself to grieve and grieve he has. The bruises on his knuckles and recently repaired hole in the front wall are proof of that. He considers himself lucky that he didn't hit a stud in the wall; instead his hand went through it scratching and bruising skin, but leaving the bones intact.

He tries not to consider what the team is going through back in Sacramento. They have solved the case of a lifetime; catching the one man that was considered to be uncatchable and had destroyed members of their own squad. He whispers a silent plea that Bosco forgives him wherever the man may be now. Believing in something is easier now that his one wish in life has been granted, or it could just be all the time he spends around her.

The chains that had loosened around his heart tighten just a bit when he thinks about the one person (other than Angela) that has stuck with him through thick and thin. It's an almost imperceptible tightening due to the source. His heart has been locked away for more years than cares to count. Pieces of the wall have chipped away with the loosening chains, but he wasn't sure he would be able to feel anything anytime soon. Then again, it's been months since he walked out of the CBI saying words he didn't mean to force them to let him go. She would have followed him if he hadn't. Having her near reminded him of what he had lost…

That final thought hits him harder than he expects it to. He stops moving and considers the implications of the years he spent in the CBI with a woman he trusted implicitly. He thinks about the moment he called her and heard Red John's voice on the line. The feeling of his heart landing in his stomach and smashing into mere dust particles that floated away with the slightest breeze. His heart hadn't been close to whole at the time, but there had been a block of something there. The dust particles had somehow magically reassembled themselves when they found her alive, but a new fear had taken root in his heart. It gnawed away at his mind. That fear had since receded since Red John's demise.

He begins walking back toward the house. The chill is beginning to get to him and a cup of hot tea is a necessity. Tea helps him thinks. Once in the kitchen he puts the kettle on and waits for it to boil. He gets his tea cup ready and contemplates his most recent thoughts. Time has begun to clear his mind slightly, and he has been able to sleep nightly on a couch he brought in and put in the living room. Otherwise a plethora of books have been his only companions.

The tea is soothing. He has chosen a jasmine to calm his mind and relax his body. He rinses his cup and places the cup and saucer both in the sink. He realizes he left the tea sitting on the counter. With a shake of his head he grabs the bag of loose leaf tea and reaches to place it on its designated shelf. He stops with his hand halfway in the shelf when he spots the coffee pot stored there, a layer of dust coating the top. A can of coffee is sitting next to it with a pack of filters resting on top. He isn't sure when he acquired the set, but he knows that he did it for a reason.

Quickly, he puts the tea back on the shelf and gathers a few things from the room. Time has never mattered to him. Right now he has made a decision that he doesn't want to consider the implications to or he might never find himself again. The circle he is traveling could prove to be unending.

A/N: Thoughts are welcome!