A/N: Sorry it's been a bit of a long wait. But thank you to all my lovely reviewers. You are very much loved.

Chapter 10

Lisbon tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator came to a steady halt. The doors pinged open. And she was out. Making her way into the bull pen to greet her team, she was only met with one out of the three. Patrick strode past her, removing his jacket, and leapt onto the couch, making it creak slightly.

'Oh...hey, Cho.' He remembered his colleague.

'Jane. Lisbon. You're back.'

'Yeah,' Lisbon replied.

'You ok?' Cho asked.

Lisbon took a deep breath in and considered. 'Yeah...I think I'm ok.'

'She's wonderful,' Patrick added, 'She has a crush on me.' A cheeky smile lit up his face as he snuggled into the couch.

'Jane!' Lisbon exclaimed, yet again, wanting to hit him with the nearest object. It wasn't a frying pan this time. It was Van Pelt's laptop. If only she'd had a cushion to throw. But maybe she needed the cushion more to cover the burning pink flooding her cheeks.

Cho raised his eyebrows, but made no further comment.

'I don't have a crush on him, Cho,' Lisbon tried to convince the faintly smirking Asian man.

'Whatever.'

Lisbon narrowed her eyes.

'But Lisbon,' Cho remembered the thing he probably shouldn't have forgotten, 'Can we talk...in private?' he mouthed, gesturing at Patrick.

'Hmm...something I shouldn't hear about, Cho?' Patrick said, from behind closed eyes.

If Cho had expressed his feelings, he would have grimaced, but he simply stared at Patrick.

'No.'

Lisbon nodded in the direction of her office. Cho followed, leaving Patrick to guess, if he could.

Once inside Cho shut the door behind him and looked seriously into Lisbon's eyes.

'What is it Cho?'

'We had a problem while you were gone.'

'What, you couldn't cope without me?' Lisbon joked.

However, she was only returned with a dead serious expression.

'What happened?' Lisbon asked, slightly worried.

'Red John.'

'He's got another victim?'

'Yes.'

'Where? Who?'

'Interrogation. Jack Bulmer.'

'What do you mean, interrogation? The victim survived?'

Cho looked around, took a deep breath and gestured out the door. 'Come with me.'

Lisbon's brows knitted together as she followed Cho from her office and towards the interrogation rooms. Something gave her an odd feeling. Butterflies, flitting softly in her stomach as she followed her agent.

Cho finally came to a halt outside the first interrogation room, putting his hands on his hips, nodding Lisbon in the direction of the room. Lisbon glanced at Cho concernedly and stepped forward, not breaking eye contact with him until she stood before the door. She opened it wide and looked in. Her eyes adjusted to the shadowy darkness.

'Oh my God...' Lisbon stepped back, door wide open, eyes even wider. She was overwhelmed with the thick iron scent that clung to her tongue. Her jaw worked, trying to form words. 'Jack...? Jack Bulmer?'

Cho nodded.

'How did this happen?'

'Bosco brought in someone named Terry yesterday who claimed to know Red John. He followed the information that the guy gave him to a house, and while he was gone, Terry killed Jack and left us with this.'

Lisbon could barely process it all. 'So wait...Terry. Terry was Red John?'

Cho nodded again. 'We think so.'

Lisbon ran a clammy hand through her dark hair, trying to figure out what it meant. What the purpose was.

'But surely...he's just given us his identity though? It could be a fake name but we know what he looks like, right?'

'Possibly, but it could have been a disguise. I doubt he'd walk in here and basically give himself to us.'

'Who walk in here and basically give himself to us?' Patrick startled the two agents, 'It was getting kinda lone-'

Lisbon slammed the door shut and stood in front of it. Patrick gave her a suspicious glance. 'Is there something I shouldn't see?'

Lisbon nodded fervently.

Patrick narrowed his eyes. The way Lisbon's head was moving up and down far too fast made him wary. He stepped forward and tried to reach out for the door handle, but Lisbon slapped his hand aside.

'Ow!' Patrick gave Lisbon a hurt look.

'It's a...surprise,' Lisbon told him, trying to get Patrick to go away.

'Meh...I hate surprises....' Patrick took Lisbon's shoulders in his hands and moved her round. He knew how much she hated being overpowered, but something told him that there was something bad behind that door. And him being the normal, fearing citizen that he was, wanted to know exactly what was in there. He pushed down the door handle and stepped inside. His heart almost skipped a beat. He stopped dead in his tracks. Lisbon grimaced from outside. Patrick suddenly stepped back out, slamming the door behind him and pointing fearfully at the door.

'That isn't possible. That is not possible,' Patrick spoke shakily, 'What happened?'

His stomach turned too many times to count. He felt nauseous, choking on the heavy scent of blood. Cho simply stared sadly back at him, not wanting to explain again.

'Damn it Cho, you better tell me what happened. Right now.'

Cho inhaled deeply and looked at the floor.

'CHO!' Patrick was losing it. If someone didn't say something right now, he might...he didn't know what he might do, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

Cho glanced at Lisbon, who looked down and nodded briefly.

'Jane...'

'Yes?' Patrick replied impatiently.

'Red John was here.'

'Well it figures. When? Why? How?'

'Bosco got an anonymous call yesterday, and followed it to the location, picked a guy up named Terry, who claimed to have known Red John, and then followed the information to another house.'

Patrick listened silently, an engulfing sense of fear, anger, sadness and hate threatening to drown him. A lump was forming in his throat, almost choking. His eyes flickered over to Lisbon, for just a second, who still had her eyes to the floor.

'Terry was Red John. He killed the guard watching the room.'

Patrick felt hot tears jeopardizing the clarity of his vision.

'Red John...doesn't do that,' Patrick murmured, turning away from his colleagues, but swiftly back round again. 'He wouldn't risk it...it can't be him...' But even as he said those words, glancing at the door to the new hell inflicted on the CBI, he knew, just knew, that it was Red John. He didn't know what would possess that man to risk everything just to toy with them...but it had happened, and there was nothing they could do about it.

'Which guard?' Patrick asked, his voice thick with compressed rage.

'Jack Bulmer.'

Patrick ran his fingers lightly over his forehead, clenching his jaw tight. He marched back to the bull pen, sharing a brief glance with Lisbon as she looked up.

Jack Bulmer had been a good man. Always knew right from wrong, and was so kind, caring. And now his wife and two children would have to live without him because of Red John's beef with Patrick. Yes, Patrick felt like he was the one to blame. If it hadn't been for him joining the CBI, Jack Bulmer would probably still be alive. Red John wouldn't have gone to such lengths to show his power over them. It was a sick game, and too many people were getting caught in the crossfire because of it.

Patrick strode from bull pen to kitchen and back again, not totally sure what he was doing. He just felt so angry. With himself, and Red John...

Only on the odd occasion did Patrick feel violent, and this was definitely one of those occasions. He could have brought a fist down on something, thrown something, broken something...just anything that might vent the anger out of him. The image of the bloody smiley was once again scorched into the back of his mind, burning angrily, and mockingly. It was this. This image, that sent him so close to the edge that coming out in one piece was a miracle. He stopped mid-pace and strode back to Lisbon and Cho. He rethought, marching away again, and rethought, going back again.

'...Where's Bosco?'

'In hospital,' Cho replied.

Patrick and Lisbon both yelled 'What?!' in perfectunison.

'The lead he followed took him to a house rigged with explosive,' Cho explained to his two colleagues, 'He was in the explosion.'

Patrick grimaced, while Lisbon's jaw dropped. 'Is he ok?!' Lisbon demanded.

'Yes. He's gonna be ok.'

Both Patrick and Lisbon took on an expression of relief.

'I've...got to go see him,' Lisbon announced. She headed for the elevator without a second thought, only pausing to ask where Van Pelt and Rigsby were.

'They're asking close-by residences whether anybody saw 'Terry' yesterday,' Cho replied.

'Okay,' Lisbon responded, 'Jane? Are you coming?'

'Urm...' Patrick looked from the interrogation room door, to Cho, to Lisbon and back again, 'I'll...come with.'

He needed to find out why Bosco had messaged him about the Red John evidence to begin with anyway.

By now, Van Pelt had begun knocking on doors instead of Rigsby. This was the eleventh door. Nothing had come up so far. Van Pelt rapped her knuckles on the polished white wood and stood back, ready to brandish the photo in the next home owner's face. Well, not quite in their face. The young agent looked down at her shoes, tapping her toe on the panelled floor of the veranda. She leant forward and knocked again.

'Hello?' she called, 'Anybody home?'

For a moment, there was no reply, but eventually, after a few knocks and scrapes and strangled cat mews, the door was flung open.

'Sorry,' apologized the young woman inside, looking a bit flustered, 'The cat was...having issues...' she gave a weak smile. Her long blonde hair hung over her shoulders looking a bit dishevelled.

Van Pelt smiled slightly, surveying the torn shirt that adorned the woman's upper half, and the partially shredded trousers that covered the lower half.

'Violent cat,' she commented.

'Hmm...so what can I do for you?' the woman asked.

Van Pelt suddenly remembered what she was there for and unclipped her badge from her belt, showing it to the woman carefully. 'CBI.'

'What's the problem?'

'Oh, no problem, we were just wondering whether you'd seen this man at all yesterday, maybe walking past here in the afternoon?'

The woman looked closely at the photograph of 'Terry Yeoker'. Her brows knitted together in concentration.

'Urm...I...might have done actually. I was sorting out the flowerbeds when I think he walked past. He had that same jacket on.'

Van Pelt quickly became optimistic. 'Okay. Can you tell me which way he was going?'

'That way,' the woman pointed to her right, which was only to be expected considering that that was the path leading away from the CBI building.

'Did you see anything else? Maybe he got into a vehicle? Went into a house?'

Yes, the probability that Red John, the notorious serial killer, living only a couple of blocks away from the CBI headquarters was probably a billion to one...but hey.

'Um...' the blonde thought for a moment, 'I think he got into a car just on that corner there.' She pointed again, but this time at the point where the road turned off.

Van Pelt's heart skipped a beat and pounded faster. 'Could...you give me a description of that car?'

'Hmm...I think it was a blue Ford Mustang...1968?'

Van Pelt couldn't have had more butterflies stuffed in her stomach if she'd tried.

'My Dad's a car mechanic...I kind of...pick up these things. Car models and manufacturers...'

Van Pelt looked excitedly back at Rigsby. He grinned in return.

'Is there anything else you can tell us? Registration plate?'

The woman's face contorted, racking her brains. 'No...all I can think is that it began with S.'

'Okay. Thank you. Thank you very much for your assistance.'

The woman nodded with a smile.

'Oh, and good luck with the cat,' Van Pelt added with a smile.

The blonde laughed. 'Yes. Thanks.'

Van Pelt and Rigsby made their way back down the path with wide smiles on their faces.

'We got a car!' Van Pelt said happily.

'Well, I think that deserves food...or a drink.'

Van Pelt rolled her eyes with a smirk. Always food on the mind with Wayne Rigsby.

Lisbon sat down quietly at Bosco's bedside in the General Hospital. Patrick stood in the corner, watching the cardiac monitor bleep steadily.

'Sam?' Lisbon whispered in Bosco's ear.

Bosco's eyes blinked open blearily. He shifted his head to the right, where Lisbon was sat.

'Teresa?'

'Hey. I hear you've been up and around before you're s'posed to. Hit your head.' Lisbon smiled slightly.

'Hmm...I was wondering why I couldn't remember what had happened...' Bosco smiled wryly and he noticed how dry his throat was, swallowing thickly. 'Could you get me a glass of water?'

Lisbon looked around. 'Yeah...'

Patrick was already up at the counter in the corner, pouring a glass for Bosco. He silently walked over and handed it to Lisbon.

'Thanks, Jane,' Lisbon said.

Patrick nodded.

'Hey, Jane,' Bosco only just realised that the consultant was in the room.

Patrick proceeded to nod in Bosco's direction as well, before moving back to his corner again.

'So, I hear neither of you were at work yesterday,' Bosco told them, his eyebrow raised tiredly.

'Yeah...I had...family issues,' Lisbon replied, trying to throw the topic off before it got to her again.

'What happened?' Bosco asked concernedly.

'Um...I...my...'

'Her brother was killed...hit and run.' Patrick provided gently, seeing how difficult it was for Lisbon to say it.

Lisbon looked back at Patrick with eyes on the verge of tears.

'Oh God...Teresa...I'm sorry,' Bosco pushed himself up in the pillows, tightening a wired up hand around Lisbon's.

'Nah...wasn't you're fault,' Lisbon was trying desperately to care as little as possible, because she remembered the deep dark holes she got herself in yesterday, and she had no plans for return trips.

Patrick stood in the corner, wishing for his own hand to be around Lisbon's instead of Bosco's. He wanted to be the one there with her when she cried about her brother. He wanted to be the one there to hold her hand and tell her he was sorry, and tell her he would be there for her. But he restricted himself to the shadowy corner, watching their hands entwine.

'If there's anything you need, Teresa, I'm here,' Bosco promised her.

'Sam. You're the one in the hospital bed. We need to get you better before you can look after me,' Lisbon smiled slightly.

Bosco laughed faintly.

'So, I presume Jane was with you?'

Lisbon nodded. 'Managed to break a door...two doors actually.'

'Hey, the front door wasn't my fault. But I still got it fixed for you,' Patrick complained.

'Well, yeah,' Lisbon looked at him, 'I s'pose you made up for the other door...in your own kind of way...'

Bosco watched the two smile at each other. He could easily tell that there was something between them. A certain sort of chemistry. Even if he loved Lisbon himself, he could never deny the looks that Patrick and Teresa shared on the occasion.

Lisbon eventually tore her eyes away from Patrick when she realised she'd been staring too long, with a slight pink touch dashing her cheeks. She cleared her throat quietly.

'So, how are you hanging in there Sam?'

'Oh...I'm alright. Want to get back to work soon though. We've got a big case.'

Lisbon nodded. 'But you make sure you get your rest first. You get a chunk of wood through your leg, and you're entitled to a lot of rest.'

The corner of Bosco's mouth lifted slightly. The room was silent for a few moments.

Bosco looked from the mysterious shadowy figure of Patrick in the corner, to Lisbon, and motioned for her to lean in. Lisbon cocked her head slightly, her brows knitting together. Bosco motioned again. Lisbon followed Bosco's instruction. Patrick watched interestedly, trying not to look it. Bosco whispered something into Lisbon's ear. And whatever that something was, it surprised her. She moved back, her eyes slightly wider than before.

'Sam...!' she whispered back, but audibly enough for Patrick to here, 'He does not.'

Patrick had a pretty good idea what had been said, but Bosco's expression didn't give anything away. He would have to ask Lisbon later. Just to confirm.

'It's rude to whisper,' Patrick said matter-of-factly, finally deciding to grab the other chair and sit in the light.

'Sorry Jane,' Bosco smiled, 'But how else do you talk privately when there are other people in the room?'

'You don't.'

An awkward silence filled the room for a few seconds.

'Why did you tell me about the new lead?' Patrick asked suddenly.

'Huh...? Oh.'

'I mean, it's not as if you wanted to tell me anything before. And then when you had a big breakthrough...you told me. Why?'

Bosco swiped his hand over his head, scratching the back of his neck.

'Y'know what, Jane? I don't know.'

Patrick continued to look at him, folding his arms as he slouched into the chair slightly.

'See you wouldn't do that normally. You always try to keep me at arms length. Everything about you resists me.'

'Not everything, Jane. Just the part of me that wants to keep you out of the case.'

'Why did you text me then?'

'I don't know, Jane.'

'Unless...' Patrick considered for a moment, 'you knew I would be at Lisbon's and you wanted me to choose between Lisbon and Red John.'

'What?'

'Jane?' Lisbon turned round abruptly, giving him a bewildered look.

Patrick shrugged.

'Are you trying to suggest that I had something to do with Lisbon's brother?' Bosco asked incredulously.

Patrick again, shrugged.

'It's obvious that you love her, so maybe you wanted to size me up? See if I would care enough to stay with her?'

'Jane. Stop it! What the hell is wrong with you!?' Lisbon tried to cut Patrick off, get in the way of the crossfire.

Patrick glared at the speechless Bosco for just a moment before he met gazes with Lisbon. He was suddenly all too aware of what he just said. He froze, looking from one person to the other. He mentally swore. He rose from the seat and made for the door. Just before disappearing, he looked back round.

'Sorry...I...sorry.' And with that he was gone from sight.

Lisbon looked apologetically back at Bosco, who looked at her confusedly, and a little hurt.

Patrick's frustrated pacing had started up again as he stood outside the hospital. The sun scorched the ground, causing waves of heat to shimmer off the car park. Patrick took a seat on a bench situated just in the shade and just outside the entrance. He chucked his jacket beside him and slipped a finger into his collar, tugging at it slightly even though it wasn't tight.

Was it him, or had he just accused Bosco of killing Lisbon's brother? Why did he do that? He put his head in his hands, tangling his fingers into the blonde curls. He breathed steadily, trying to sort out his thoughts. His eyes closed, blocking out the harsh light that reflected off of the burning white concrete.

He couldn't explain what had happened back there. But he always managed to screw things up. Things would go swimmingly until his stupid 'sixth sense' would come into play. And this time, he'd accused a colleague of murder and he had no idea what had possessed him to do it. His brain was still trying to make sense of the jumble of Tommy's death, Lisbon's gun incident and Red John's attack on the CBI. And it left him mentally disorientated. Maybe that's what caused it. He'd been tipped on his head and the blood hadn't settled back yet. And he couldn't think clearly.

Patrick rubbed his temples slowly. All he could think was: Lisbon will never forgive me.

A/N: Reviewsiessss. :P