A/N: I believe this to be the penultimate chapter. So I hope you all enjoy. I'll get onto writing the next and final chapter soon. Thank you muchly to Alydia Rackham, for all your lovely reviews! Much appreciated.

Chapter 15

Timothy Matthews sat catatonic in his chair inside interrogation. The soft lighting poured over him. His expression lay unchanged. He didn't really know what was going through his mind. Apart from the fact that he'd been caught. After so long. So long feeling like he was untouchable. On top of the world. Yet now, here he sat, in the poorly lit room, dull, scratched handcuffs pulling his arms behind him. He'd finally failed. He'd made the mistake of getting too full of himself and thinking he could walk into the CBI and just walk straight out of the front door again and not get caught.

He closed his eyelids slowly, the sting that filled his eyes barely weakened by the complete darkness. His wrists twitched inside the metal handcuffs that had now warmed up to his skin temperature. He took a deep breath and blew out slowly. For a fleeting moment, he even considered breaking out of his cuffs with the paperclip that he always kept in his pocket for some reason, but he knew he would be caught. There were too many people around. His head fell softly to sit in front of his chest. He swallowed back, his throat as dry as a bone, and ran his tongue across his cracked lips. His head throbbed quietly from behind the graze that his car had served on him. He wondered when the agents would be in to question him.

'Lisbon?' Cho entered the Boss' office without even pausing to knock.

Lisbon dragged her head off of the desk and looked up at Cho expectantly. 'Yes?'

'Red John...'

'What about him?'

'He's sat in interrogation.' Cho replied, letting a rare smile slip across his face.

Lisbon was suddenly as awake as if she'd taken uppers.

'What?'

'We caught him,' Cho confirmed.

Lisbon jumped out of her chair, almost knocking it over backwards as she went. Her heart pummelled in her chest.

'How?' she asked, having to stop herself from gaping.

'He was still at the gas station that we traced the call to.'

'You traced a call?' Lisbon narrowed her eyes, not remembering the point where she had been told this.

'Yeah...didn't Rigsby tell you?' Cho asked.

'No. He didn't.' But she had a pretty good idea why. Rigsby was probably going to come and tell her before he saw her and Jane kissing.

'Well...we traced a call that Bliss made before we caught her, and we ended up at a gas station. He attempted to kidnap Van Pelt after knocking me out.'

'Oh God, are you both alright?' Lisbon asked worriedly.

'Yeah. But anyway, I blew the back tire and he swerved off the road a bit further down. Wrapped his car round a telegraph pole.'

When Cho finished, Lisbon realised how little she'd kept up to date with this case, despite its importance. She'd just been so...busy...tired...occupied with a certain golden haired consultant.

'I think you might have to fill me in a bit on the case, Cho. I've missed quite a lot.'

'No problem.'

Lisbon sat down again. She knew it would be better to go and talk to Red John once she knew all the facts about the case. She invited Cho to sit down opposite her as she downed the rest of her now cold coffee.

Van Pelt stood in the break room, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Her lips pouted slightly as she blew away the heat. Her wrists were still sore and reddened. She could almost still feel the bumpiness of the ride in the boot that she had to endure. Her eyes swam a little from the cut she had sustained when her head hit. She took a sip of her coffee and sighed heavily.

Van Pelt jumped slightly when Rigsby entered the room.

'Oh, hey, Grace.' Rigsby smiled slightly, obviously not noticing the cut and ligature marks at first, because otherwise he'd have been well and truly distracted from the fridge and fussing over her. Like typical Rigsby.

'Hey,' she greeted in return.

'You alright?' Rigsby asked, his head stuck in the fridge.

'Yeah...' She turned and placed her mug down behind her.

Rigsby pulled out with his prize of yoghurt drink and peeled off the top, running his finger round the edge and licking off the yoghurt. As soon as he turned round, he froze.

'What...happened?' he asked, his arm slowly dropping to his side. He placed the drink on the side and hurried over to her, taking her wrists in his hands carefully.

'It's nothing. Don't worry,' Van Pelt tried to dismiss the issue.

'It doesn't look like nothing,' Rigsby stated, running his thumb slowly, gently, over the bruised skin.

'I just got a bit tied down.'

Rigsby's brows creased together, expecting more of an explanation.

'Tim tried to kidnap me, alright? Tied me up a little. The car ended up crashing and I got the cut.'

'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry.'

Rigsby looked Van Pelt in her pretty hazel eyes and felt his heart pace a little. His Van Pelt had been hurt, and he hated it. He felt like he should have been there to protect her.

He pulled her into his arms carefully, not wanting to hurt her more.

'Grace...' he murmured, squeezing her a little tighter.

Van Pelt wrapped her arms around Rigsby's waist, grimacing slightly as her achy limbs moved.

Lisbon, now fully informed, and feeling a little better now having had her mind taken off the relationship issue with Jane, walked beside Cho towards the interrogation rooms. She felt nervously excited, for Red John was now caught, sat inside the room she was moving towards, but she hid it underneath her professional demeanour. She thought of telling Jane about it, but he wasn't visible in the immediate area, and things would only kick off if he knew. And she knew all too well the kind of things that he'd said to her about the day Red John was captured.

She pocketed her twitching hands and swished her long hair from her face. Bringing her feet to stand perfectly squared outside of the room Cho had told her contained Red John, she took a deep breath. Placing her hand over the stainless steel handle, she applied pressure and stepped in, pushing the door to the wall. Her breath caught in her throat momentarily as she surveyed the over turned tables and chairs. But no Timothy.

'...what the hell happened in here Cho?' she stuttered, pointing at the mess and looking questioningly back at her just as baffled colleague.

'I...' Beneath his apparently cool appearance, Cho's heart was pounding against his ribs. Not that long ago, Timothy had been sat in that chair right there...that now overturned chair.

'You didn't tell Jane did you?' Lisbon grimaced, the words ringing in her head as if she had only just heard them.

'When I catch Red John I'm gonna cut him up and I'm gonna watch him die slowly. Like he did with my wife and child.'

'No. Nobody did.' Cho told her, hoping against hopes that his other colleagues would have the common sense notto tell Jane either.

'Okay...' Lisbon looked around the room for a second longer before storming out. 'Get hold of security now. I want to know what happened to him. Check the cameras for the main entrance and this floor. I'm going to find Jane.'

In the pit of her stomach, she could feel the dread dwelling. After all the sensitivity and care Patrick had shown her not that long ago, she hoped he hadn't found out that Red John was here.

But no matter how hard she hoped, she couldn't think up another reasonable explanation for the state of the room and the missing criminal. Her heart pounded in her ears like a drum, and the beat was only getting faster. She searched the corridors, mercilessly scouring every room for her colleague but to no avail. She was almost out of ideas until she thought of the men's room. Screw the fact that it was the men's room. These were desperate times and circumstances. Lisbon broke into a run, her throat aching with the lump that was forming as she anticipated the worst. Pulling up at the door, her heart felt like it had broken in two as she heard Patrick's cracked, sobbing voice echo from inside.

'You took them away from me... my Ava, my Jessie... I hate you... I hate you more than any person ever could hate another...'

Lisbon slowly pushed the door open, her head pounding. Patrick was stood there, holding Tim against the wall by the neck, a tight grip crushing down on the man's Adam's apple and constricting his windpipe. Tim's bloodied head was centred in a smashed mirror, and a shattered sink and broken faucet were pouring water across the floor which lapped at the toes of Lisbon's shoes. Patrick's trousers were soaked at the hem, and his waist coat hung open around his torso, his shirt sleeves rolled up and dampened. His hair lay flattened and soggy across his forehead. His eyebrow was bleeding, the crimson stream tracing around his eye, narrowly missing going in.

'You took their beautiful lives away from me. And now I'm going to take yours,' Patrick hissed into Timothy's ear. Lisbon's eyes widened as she caught sight of the glinting blade pressing to the soft skin of Timothy's throat, forcing out tiny beads of scarlet blood.

'Jane...' she started, almost choking over her words, 'Put the knife down.'

Patrick's head flashed round to see Lisbon in the doorway, her hand sat restlessly on the butt of her gun inside its holster. He turned his attention back to the man under his grip.

'What?' he laughed dryly, 'You gonna shoot me?'

'I don't want to, Jane.'

'So you would if it came to it?'

'Well...no,' she faltered. She would never be able to bring herself to do serious harm to him, 'Just please, put the knife down.'

'I can't do that Lisbon,' he murmured, barely concealing the quivering edge to his voice.

The lump in Lisbon's throat grew almost to suffocate her as she watched a single tear trace a moist path down Patrick's cheek.

'Please...Patrick. Don't do this. You're better than this.'

She watched Patrick intently, her heart reaching out to him as she saw the fire that usually held sway in his emerald eyes doused and flattened.

'But he killed them, Lisbon. He took them away from me...'

'I know...I know. But surely, you know more than anybody that being sorry is far worse than being dead?'

'But he won't be sorry...' Patrick hissed, another tear following suit of the first as he pressed the shining blade closer to Tim's neck, causing droplets of blood to dribble down his throat and under his dampened polo shirt.

'Yes he will. I promise,' Lisbon edged forward, her hand slowly moving off of her gun, 'I promise, Patrick.'

'How can you know?'

'Trust me.'

Patrick's gaze flickered over his shoulder, but didn't meet Lisbon's.

'I need to do this...' he said, his voice barely over a whisper.

'No...you don't. Just please, let him go.'

'I CAN'T!' Patrick yelled suddenly, forcing the knife down harder. 'Stop trying to change my mind with your soft voice and your calm!'

Lisbon flinched slightly at the sudden rise in volume.

'Patrick, please!' she cried desperately, 'Think of what you told me earlier! You were moving on, Patrick. That means you can move on from him. You don't need to kill him!'

'But...'

'Killing him won't make a difference. It won't bring them back! It won't solve the pain! Just, please. Give me the knife...' Lisbon pleaded, holding out her hand.

Patrick flicked a quick glance back at Lisbon's approaching figure, her small hand offered out to accept the weapon that was clenched in his sweaty palm. His hand tightened around Tim's neck fractionally as he considered the options.

'Lisbon...?'

'I'm here, what is it?'

'What if the pain never goes?'

Lisbon's heart broke as she watched his eyes overspill with glittering tears.

'...Then I'll be here to help you,' Lisbon told him confidently.

Patrick seemed to think on her words for a moment before his muscles slowly began to relax, letting air down Tim's throat and removing the shimmering blade from the shallow cut.

'That's it...give me the knife,' Lisbon coaxed gently.

Patrick released Tim, letting him slide down to the floor in an exhausted heap. He held the knife down by his side, watching the light glint on the blood stained blade, a tiny bead dripping and diffusing into the water pooling on the floor. Patrick switched the blade between hands and passed it slowly to Lisbon, before he was tempted to pick up where he left off. Tim looked up at him, his face blank until a second later. A huge grin split over his face.

'I knew you couldn't do it...' he laughed, coughing slightly as he recovered the oxygen to his lungs.

Patrick's face was full of pain. He lashed out a hard toe into Tim's stomach, winding him. Lisbon quickly rushed up to Patrick and took his arm, guiding him away.

She put Patrick in the corner of the wrecked bathroom while she returned to Tim, grabbing his wrists and handcuffing them around the nearest pipe. She had to take care of Patrick. Cho would come and collect Tim.

Suddenly, Tim cocked his head and looked at Lisbon more carefully.

'Have we met?' he asked, his eyebrows creasing.

'No,' Lisbon replied, concentrating on the cuffs.

'Strange...I recognise you from some-' his face suddenly filled with realisation, 'I hit you this morning...'

Lisbon looked at Tim questioningly.

'Well, obviously not you...a brother maybe...' a smirk lit up his lips as he watched Lisbon's face fall flat, 'Well isn't that interesting...'

Lisbon stood up stiffly. It couldn't have been. It couldn't have been him. That wasn't possible...

It took every ounce of her professionalism to take her away from Tim.

She approached Patrick again, looking a little lost. Slowly taking his arm again, she nodded towards the door. She could feel Patrick try to launch at Tim, but she kept her grip.

'Jane,' she murmured, seeing him look at Tim with evidence of vicious intentions written all over his expression, 'Come on. He's not worth it...'

Lisbon pulled him out of the bathroom, ignoring the slight edge of resistance that he was giving her. Tugging him along behind her, she took him to her couch, sitting him down and pulling up a chair in front of him, but not sitting herself.

'Stay,' she told him quietly, fishing her phone from her pocket and flipping it open. Dialling in Cho's number, she lifted it to her ear, telling the agent on the other end of the line to go to the men's room to get Tim. She snapped the phone shut, not waiting for a reply, and seated herself.

She ignored the painful buzzing that filled her ears, the black clouds slowly running through her vision.

'What...were you thinking Jane?' she started, trying to avoid the emotions that were almost drowning her. She was staring at her shaky hands, her head bowed.

'Lisbon. I'm so sorry...' But he wasn't apologising for what he'd done.

'About what?' She looked him straight in the face.

Patrick's brows crumpled slightly.

'I told you not to do harm to him, Jane. Why did you go against me?' she continued.

'I didn't harm him.'

'You tried to.'

'You appeared before I could do anything.'

This time, he started before Lisbon could interrupt.

'I'm sorry about your brother.'

'We're talking about you.'

'No we're not. I don't want to talk about me.'

Lisbon looked into his eyes. 'Well I don't want to talk about me, Jane.'

'Let's talk about fluffy clouds and rainbows then.'

Lisbon picked herself from her seat and left the office without smiling. Patrick sighed heavily, about to follow her, but before he could, she was back, with a dampened towel and ice pack in hand. She returned to sit before Patrick and started wiping the blood from his face with the towel, causing him to hiss slightly when she pressed on the cut.

'I thought you had moved on, Jane. I thought you had changed.'

'What?'

'The ring, Jane.'

'I moved on in my personal life. That didn't mean I thought any different of Red John.'

Lisbon pressed harder on the cut.

'OW! What was that for!'

'For being stupid.'

Patrick narrowed his eyes at Lisbon.

'You said you love me, Jane. What were you thinking back there? You think jail would be a good way to express your feelings for me?'

'No...'

'Well, please explain then. Because I don't understand.'

Patrick breathed out heavily, closing one eye against the excess pain that Lisbon had inflicted.

'I'm sorry...'

'For what?' Lisbon asked, raising her eyebrows and waiting for a better reply.

Patrick narrowed his eyes. 'I'm sorry, Lisbon, for being careless and stupid.'

'That's more like it.'

Patrick huffed. 'Why are you blocking out the fact that Red John killed your brother?'

'It doesn't matter who killed my brother. He's gone. And there's nothing I can do about it. So drop it.'

Lisbon finished up cleaning off the blood and put the ice pack a little more tenderly over the wound than she had been with cleaning it. Patrick fell back into the couch, taking hold of the ice pack himself. The freezing cold seemed to numb his brain a little and he blinked widely, trying to clear the feeling.

'Never do anything like that again, Jane.'

A/N: D:
I don't know why, but I felt really nervous publishing this chapter...
Well, can't believe this story's almost finished. I'll have to start a new one up soon! Reviewsies for Mesies. :P Love y'allllll.