14

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"I still can't believe it," Van Pelt said, shaking her head.

"They told us they'd get us proof," Cho said matter-of-factly. "You thought they were lying?"

"I…I don't know!" She exclaimed, standing. "I mean, I thought spirits existed but…but I didn't…"

"Think they were bad?" Sam offered. She nodded. "Not all of them are, just most of the ones we deal with. Some of 'em are just lost and won't let go. And others…"

"So what does, uh, Bobby think about all of this?" Lisbon asked, trying to keep her mind off of Patrick.

"He's supposed to call me back in a little while," Sam said. "He was doing some research on all of this to try and get us a better idea of what it is and how to kill it."

"He better call soon," Cho said, sounding angry. "Jane shouldn't have to go through all of this again. It's not fair."

"Rigsby?" Lisbon said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"It's real," he said, not looking up from his hands. "It's actually real. I…Sorry, Grace. I guess I believe you now."

"Jane won't," Cho said. "He'll deny everything after all of this."

"Well that's on him," Lisbon said. The others nodded. Castiel was staring out the small window in the door, frowning, watching Dean clean up the broken man. He shook his head sadly.

"I would like to eliminate whatever is doing this as well," he said, surprising everyone else, especially Sam. "Patrick Jane has been through more anguish than any of you could imagine."

"I dunno about that," Sam mumbled.

"The pain you have felt for Jessica and your father is nothing compared to how he feels," Castiel said. "Not that that in itself wasn't agonizing, so don't look at like that. I do not understand how it feels in particular, but I see Patrick's soul. I know how tortured it is. You have never known the pain of losing a child, Sam. None of you have. It is the cruelest of tortures and of the most awful agony that you could imagine. And that is under normal circumstances. He blames himself for what has happened to his wife and child. The weight on his mind and his heart is crushing. It's killing him from the inside out, which is why he is the way he is. Only in Red John's capture and death will he find peace."

The CBI agents' eyes were wide. They didn't know Castiel could speak that much all at once. Sam was staring down at his hands. Lisbon ran her hand over her face, emotionally exhausted. She couldn't say that she understood how Patrick felt because she didn't. But she did know what it was doing to him. She saw it in his eyes every day. It had never been this bad before.

She had never seen him cry. She'd heard him, once. That gave her some insight to how much it hurt. How much he hated himself and how desperately he missed them.

Now, seeing it, seeing him so broken and scared and tortured like this, she could see how he felt inside, and how little he slept on a nightly basis, whether he was seeing ghosts or not.

"Do ghosts usually act like this?" Van Pelt asked. "I mean, are they this horrible to the people they love?"

"Sometimes," Sam said. "It depends whether they're angry or not."

"So Jane's wife and kid are mad at him?" Rigsby asked.

"That doesn't make sense," Lisbon said, shaking her head. "They were happy, all of them. I don't think his wife would be like this."

"Which is why we're trying to figure this out. I mean, it makes sense why these people are coming back," Sam said. "They all died violent deaths and they're blaming the person who they feel is responsible for their deaths." Cho shook his head.

"I don't think they'd be angry with him," he said. "They don't seem the type to act like that. And how can a kid be an evil ghost?"

"It's news to us too," Sam said. "There is a type of spirit called an Acheri that takes the form of a little girl. But they usually attack other children."

"So this makes about as much sense to you as it does to us?" Van Pelt asked. Sam nodded.

"Pretty much. Until Bobby calls, there's nothing we can really do."

Dad, Mom, Jess, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Ash, Henrickson, Nancy…God, so many people had died because of them. Maybe they were next. It wasn't like they didn't have the candidates for it. He and Sam had already dealt with something like this before, when Meg and Henrickson had come back during the "rise of the witnesses" last year when Lilith was screwin' with the seals.

They could be in serious trouble, pending on what this was. He shook his head, trying not to think about how horrifying it would be to see his mother as murderously angry at him as Patrick's wife had been.

Patrick moaned in his sleep, face screwing up in pain.

"I'm sorry," He rasped. "I'm so sorry, please…"

"Shh…" Dean soothed, touching his forehead. "Hey, hey, wake up, it's alright. Shh…"

Patrick's teary eyes opened a little, tired and confused.

"Wh-what-?"

"Shh, go back to sleep. It was just a dream. Shh…" His eyes closed again, body relaxing as he slipped back into his fitful slumber, burying his face deeper in the pillow.

Dean sighed, his elbows resting on his knees. The shotgun was leaning against the chair he was in, just in case mommy dearest or demon child showed up again.

He wished Sam would hurry up and explain everything so that Lisbon chick could come back. She knew Patrick a helluva lot better than he did. And they seemed to be close in a brother-sister kind of way.

Truth be told, he didn't really know what to do. He just ignored the guilt he felt –or tried to- and moved on, or tried to. He didn't know how to help him. He didn't know how to help someone that had been pushed to the breaking point, who couldn't take it anymore.

He shook his head again. He sat there, lost in his own thoughts for a little while longer before someone touched his shoulder.

He looked up, startled.

"Sorry," Lisbon said. "Uh, Sam wants to talk to you."

He nodded and stood, walking toward the office everyone had crowded in.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him short. He looked down at her. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"No problem," he said, smiling a little. They looked at each other for a second, a beat of awkward silence. Dean cleared his throat.

"Uh, you, um, you should sit with him," Dean said. She nodded letting him go.

"Right," she said quietly as he walked away. She sat down, cursing herself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"He likes you too," Patrick said softly. She flushed a deep red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled. He smiled a little, his eyes still closed.

"You're a liar," he said hoarsely. She pursed her lips, still red.

"Shut up and go back to sleep," she snapped. His smile grew.

"If you insist…liar." He was asleep before she could say anything else.

"What did Bobby say?" Dean asked in a hushed voice.

"It's not a what that's doing this," Sam said quickly. "It's a who."

"What?" Dean exclaimed. Sam gave him a warning look, nodding to the people behind him as a signal to be quiet. "Sorry. Then what the hell is it?"

"Fear. The demon Fear." Dean stopped, staring at his brother in skepticism. Sam sighed when he saw "yeah, you're full of shit, Sammy" expression.

"You're kidding right?" Dean said.

"No, Dean I'm not. I wish I was. This isn't good. This thing feeds off of fear-"

"Duh," Dean snorted. Sam rolled his eyes.

"…Sadness and guilt. It feeds off of people's vulnerabilities," he finished, bitch-face firmly in place.

"And what better way to do that then make people go Jennifer Love Hewitt," Dean sighed.

"The visions get stronger the longer they're around," Sam continued. That's why only the people they're haunting can see them at first. Then, once they're strong enough, they start hurting them and then kill them."

"How do we kill it?" Dean asked, exasperated.

"Still working on that. An exorcism should work, but we have to find one old enough and powerful enough to actually exorcise it," he said.

"And lemme guess, you haven't told the tie-brigade what's goin' on, have you?"

"Not yet," Sam admitted. "Ghosts are hard enough to swallow, let alone demons."

"Well, they'll have to know sooner or later." Sam nodded and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Go for it." Dean glared at him.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

He stirred from his doze, his swollen eyes opening just a little. He registered that someone was holding his hand, but it was cold in the room again.

His eyes grew.

"Li-"

A small giggle echoed through the office.