A/N: Chapter 5! Thank you to all the lovely people who reviewed last chapter, and thank you to reviewer: Catty, who was unfortunately anonymous so i couldn't reply, but i'm glad i got you interested and that you enjoyed it. thank you so much for checking out this story. xxx
Enjoy everyone!

Chapter 5

Patrick sat comfortably on the lounger, surveying the new door in all its glory. It was pure white with three little windows in an arc across the top, multicoloured little shards of glass in the right and left hand windows. The bright sunlight cast twinkling, coloured rays of light through the glass to create a pattern on the opposite wall.

The door had been the best one out of the selection and now carried the red ribbon round it, with a big bow in the centre. It was like Christmas. But for a door. There was also a brand spanking new lock secured and a key dangling off the big red bow. A fat strawberry rested on top of the ribbon, awaiting to surprise Lisbon. Patrick smiled at his work. He was sure Lisbon would love it.

Now, coming to think of her, Patrick wondered why she still hadn't come downstairs. Maybe she was asleep again...he should probably check on her...

But Patrick was distracted by his pocket vibrating. He fished his phone out and flipped it open. One new message. Opening it and skimming over the words...everything suddenly seemed in slow motion. Patrick read it and re-read it...and re-read it...and read it one more time. Maybe once more...

New lead? New lead on the Red John case? He jumped off the lounger, flying through the air with the amount of force he'd exerted on the seat. It barely registered in his brain to wonder why Bosco would tell him, but it must be big...or why else would he have told him? Dashing round to his shoes underneath the table, he gathered them up off the floor and made a break for the door, his heart pummelling in his chest.

But then he stopped. Paused in front of the ribboned door. Lisbon. What about Lisbon? He couldn't leave her. Not without at least saying something. Not without at least checking on her to make sure she was ok. But...he wanted to see her reaction when she saw her new door. And give her the strawberries. And watch her face light up.

Patrick stood silent for a moment, the only sound in the room being his thumping heart, filling his ears. He felt dizzy. He was so tempted to run out of the door now. Speed to the CBI. Find Bosco. Find out about the lead. But at the same time, he knew he needed...wanted to stay with Lisbon. He ran his hand through his blonde curls and glanced up at the stairs.

Dropping his shoes behind him, Patrick made for the stairs and began walking up to Lisbon's room silently. As Red John...and Lisbon...and so many things filled his head...the walk up the stairs pulled his memory back to the time where he had been stood on his own stairs...thinking of how he would jump onto the bed and wrap his arms round his wife...pull her in and whisper about how much he loved her...place sweet kisses on her cheek...

He mentally told himself to shut up. He refused to break down. This wasn't the same situation. Nowhere near. He just needed to tell Lisbon where he was going. That was all.

He reached Lisbon's door and gently knocked.

He waited for a reply. But none came.

'Lisbon...?' he called, gently pushing down on the door handle.

The door only opened a couple centimetres before it stopped dead. 'Lisbon?' he called worriedly, trying to push the door open further, but to no avail.

'Lisbon, let me in.'

Patrick tried to look into the room, peering through the narrow crack in the door, but he couldn't quite see the bed. Or Lisbon. He felt suddenly panicky. He couldn't see anything inside, he couldn't get in. There was no reply.

'Dammit Lisbon, open the door! Let me in!'

'.....'

Bosco sat in interrogation one, facing the young, dark haired Asian man from the abandoned house. He watched as the man's hand clasped and unclasped, twinkling drops of perspiration dotted over his forehead.

'So...you have...information. Is that right?' Bosco started.

The man avoided his gaze, looking anywhere but the agent, eyes darting around the room as if it was closing in on him.

'Y-yes...that's what I said.' He looked around nervously. 'He knows I'm here...he always knows...'

'I'm sorry...who knows you're here?'

The man's eyes finally came to rest on Bosco's, panic threatening to drown him.

'Red John!'

'How would he know where you are?'

'He always knows about the people who know about him.'

Bosco studied the man's twitchy behaviour. 'You're safe here. I promise. Now, what's your name?'

'T-Terry. Terry Yeoker.'

'Ok, Terry. You want to tell me what you know?'

Terry brushed his dark spikes of hair out of his eyes swiftly and placed his sweaty palms on the table, staring at the spotlight lamps on the ceiling, as if he were being watched through them. It didn't seem like he would reply.

'O...k. You want to tell me why you wanted to meet in that abandoned house?'

'I've already told you!' Terry replied frustratedly, swiping his hand through his hair again and clasping both hands tightly together on the table surface. 'He knows!'

'Look, Terry, I've promised that you're safe here-'

'But what about when I leave? He'll know what I've done, won't he?'

Bosco breathed in and out heavily. 'We can put you in protective custody.'

Terry glanced up at Bosco and then returned his gaze to his clasped hands. After a moment or two of apparent consideration, he nodded fervently.

'Ok. Well. Now that we've established that you are safe...do you think you could tell us what you know?'

Terry eventually brought himself to nod, the grip between his hands tightening, causing his knuckles to crack slightly. He breathed out heavily.

'Red John...well, John...I knew him, in high school.'

Bosco nodded encouragingly.

'We were in a sort of...group. He was the leader. We'd all, kind of get together...and kill mice...frogs...that kinda thing...y'know, for fun.'

Bosco's brows knitted together. Worried. But he nodded and waited for Terry to continue.

'So, one day, John said something really weird...y'know....really creepy.'

'What did he say?'

'He said that we should expand our horizons...y'know...look for other things to kill. He said...we should try killing...a person. And of course, we all freaked, and put as much distance as possible between us and him.'

'Who were the others?'

'Um...well, it was John, me, Timothy Sander and Anthony Gibbs...but we all had names. Like he was Red John, Tim was Crimson Tim, Ant was Scarlett Ant, and I was Orange Terry.'

'Why orange? The rest were shades of red.'

'Um...' Terry laughed nervously, 'It was a joke. Y'know. Terry's Chocolate Orange?'

Bosco nodded slowly. 'So, they were being racist to you?'

'Um...what?'

'Terry's Chocolate Orange? You have dark skin.'

'Oh...I...don't think so. It was just a joke.'

Bosco nodded again. 'Ok.'

'I just thought...it might help, if you knew that his name was John Hyder...'

'Ok. Thank you. Thank you for coming forward.' Bosco replied very professionally. But inside, his heart was pummelling. New information. Red John's real name. So much could be followed up on.

Terry nodded slowly.

'Is there anything else?' Bosco added.

Terry shook his head.

'Well, Hicks here will take you and get you sorted out. You'll be in protective custody for however long you want.'

Lisbon sat cross-legged on her duvet, her off-duty weapon lying beside her. She couldn't help staring at it. Imagining the bullet emptying from the magazine into her brain. It scared her, so much. Jane's incessant knocking and yelling wasn't doing her any favours. She didn't want him to see her like this, why couldn't he just go away? She never wanted him to be in her presence when she had such dangerous thoughts running through her brain...that brain which could have a 9mm bullet crashing through it...

'SHUT UP!' she yelled, sobbing breaking up her voice, making it weak. She said it more to herself than Jane. She buried her head in her hands and cried.

Jane's knocking abruptly ended at the sound of Lisbon's voice.

'Lisbon? A-Are you ok?' his worried voice carried to Lisbon's tormented form on the bed.

Lisbon curled up, trying to cover her ears, trying to block out the voice that drew her towards the gun, trying to block out the visions of death by her own hand. What the hell was this? What the hell was making her want to kill herself? Any normal person would be in mourning, not thinking on throwing their life away. She wasn't sane. She wasn't stable.

'Lisbon, please let me in,' Patrick pleaded with her.

Lisbon felt like screaming. This wasn't her. Not at all. She was a CBI agent for Christ's sake. She half moaned, half screamed as she turned her gun into a projectile and threw it away, inadvertently causing the mirror to smash into a million tiny pieces and shower to the floor. She writhed, tangling the bed covers around her limbs. Mental pain. Physical pain. There was no differentiation. It was all a mess. Physical pain caused her mental pain, and mental pain caused her physical pain.

Patrick's heart almost stopped as he just about saw a gun fly into the mirror and smash it up. He could hear, clear as day, Lisbon's heavy cry of pain. He mentally heard himself swear. A gun. That meant she was thinking of...

'LISBON! Let me in!' he yelled, pummelling the door ferociously, shunting it with his shoulder. All trace of Red John had since been erased from his mind. All he could think about was Lisbon. His head felt like it was on fire. His brain screaming out as he tried and tried again to force open the door. His shoulder was rapidly bruising, put Patrick ignored it. There was more at hand than the well-being of his shoulder. Bruised, fractured, who cares? Lisbon's room was where he needed to be, and nothing would stop him. The chair that was wedged under the door handle was splintering and cracking under Patrick's weight. Creaking and giving in to the pressure...

'Cho, please tell me you know where Lisbon is?' Minelli came back once more into the bull pen.

'I know,' Cho confirmed, placing his book on the table, folding the corner of the page just like before.

'And?'

'She's at her apartment.'

'Do you know why?' Minelli asked. Cho had to be difficult, didn't he? Answer every question with as minimalistic an answer as physically possible.

'No.'

Minelli was getting frustrated now. He'd been running back and forth trying to locate his employee all day, and nobody could shed any light on the situation.

'And Jane? Where's he?'

'At Lisbon's apartment,' Cho replied.

Minelli narrowed his eyes. He almost said something, but thought better of it and stalked back to his office. Time to try phoning the apartment once more.

Patrick was getting tired and frustrated. Every time he shoved, loud creaking and cracking followed, but nothing seemed to give way. He couldn't figure it out. The phone started ringing downstairs. Patrick ignored it and gave the door one final shunt.

CRACK.

The door swung open and Patrick stumbled in. The chair lay in a sorry, broken heap behind the practically unhinged door.

'HA!' he thought, 'I have defeated you...'

And then his thoughts were back to Lisbon as his eyes met her curled form, tangled in the duvet, completely still.

He walked forward, everything seemingly in slow motion. His heart was threatening to jump ship and burst out of his chest. Yet it felt like it wasn't beating at all at the same time.

He felt tears tumbling down his cheeks. The pain that throbbed in his shoulder, in keeping with his pulse, was barely registering.

'Lisbon...' he murmured, touching her shoulder gently. Patrick's heart skipped a beat as he felt her twitch underneath his touch.

'What are you doing?' he breathed, 'Trying to kill me?'

She didn't make any move to show that she'd heard him.

Slowly kneeling beside the bed, Patrick threw his jacket off. He was burning up now. Trying to break through the door...the mixed and tangled feelings racing through him without a break...it was tiring him out. Who knew that Teresa Lisbon could become so unhinged?

All the happiness and mischievousness that was so normal it might as well be in Patrick's blood had completely evaporated. Everything he had felt so happy about when he was at the supermarket, every ounce of contentedness he'd felt when getting that new door and setting it up so beautifully, it was like it had never been there as he knelt beside his Lisbon, gently stroking her arm as she lay turned away from him.

Patrick's eyes closed slowly, his head bowed, his breathing twitching with tiny, inaudible sobs.

Suddenly, Lisbon rolled over and clambered off the bed, burying herself in Patrick's arms, planting her face into his shoulder.

'I'm scared...' she whispered brokenly, 'This...isn't me.'

Patrick didn't reply. He just held her, pulling her in tightly. He couldn't ever let go.

'No-one acts like this...why me?'

A/N: Remember, a review a chapter keeps...the author happy? :P xx