Disclaimer: *sob*

A/N: My first Mentalist multi-chap!! Thanks to Tiva4evaxxx for beta-ing - would you believe she actually changed stuff? *dies from shock* I'm very proud. Thanks for all your help on this, Em, the idea and the writing.

It all started when he took Lisbon's gun. Had he known then, he would have died rather than ever touch it.

Red John held a carefully aimed handgun - Jane was resisting the temptation to laugh through his fear, as it was clear how much the killer hated his weapon. It was... too quick, too easy. Too distant. Lisbon stood perfectly still at Jane's side, a hand hovering above her own firearm. But terrified to go for it, knowing by the time she'd fired Patrick Jane would be dead. He didn't care so much for his own life.

"Goodbye, Patrick," Red John drawled.

Jane blinked, having completely missed the entire of his murderer's ending speech in his concentration. Shame, he thought to himself. It was probably quite good. He pulled his mind back into focus, and in one swift movement pushed Lisbon to the side, grabbing her gun from the holster and firing blindly at Red John. Both men fell to the floor, blood flowed and soaked into the wood.

One glance at Red John told Lisbon he was finally dead, that she was safe. In that moment she wasn't so bothered about her own well being as she was Jane's, and she rushed over to him, who stared up at her with innocent green eyes. "Is it over?" he choked out, a thread of blood trickling from his mouth.

She fumbled for her phone, dialling for help as quickly as she could, and sat on the ground beside him, just listening to the sound of their own breathing, evidence that they were still there, that after everything that had happened over the last couple of hours they were still alive. She was hit by exhaustion, the slightest of bitter relief seeped into her, only because there was still hope, that after everything they had been through, it would be okay. Jane just needed to make it. Looking for more reassurance, she picked up his hand, running her fingers over it. "Yes," she told him, blinking back tears. "Yes, Jane, it's over."

It's over, it's over. Yes, Jane, it's finally over.

She held onto his hand until the paramedics forced her to let go. Finally, Lisbon stood, black mascara-trails down her pale face, and picked her gun from the floor, putting it back in its place. She walked over to Red John, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. She prodded his head slightly with the toe of her shoe, trying to see what it was in the man that made him capable of such evil. "He better not die, you sonofabitch," she told the corpse, her voice finally cracking. "He better not die." She softly repeated, more steadily now.

Cho, who had arrived with the ambulance, watched in tactful silence, then approached her and gently led her away. Right now, she might want nothing more than to mutilate the body of Red John, but he knew in quarter of an hour she'd just want to be by Jane's side.

-----

It was five hours before Jane was out of surgery and lying unconscious in the ICU, tubes and wires wound through him. Virgil Minelli watched his assisted breathing. He'd been called from retirement temporarily in the lieu of Hightower's departure, and ever since he got what he called the "Red John Call" he'd been wishing he'd just stayed home and read a book. "Lisbon," he said softly.

"I know," the near broken woman at his side replied, and turned away. "I have to make a statement."

"You're the only person who was in that room who can tell us what happened. He'll still be here in an hour or so."

She nodded grimly. "I wish you were wrong. Let's go."

Grace, Rigsby and Cho looked at each other, torn between staying with Jane and supporting Lisbon.

"What do we do?" Grace asked, voicing what they were all asking.

Cho looked through the window at Jane. "We stay," he decided.

Seeming doubtful, Rigsby glanced over at his boss being gently guided away. "You sure, man?"

Also watching Lisbon, Cho nodded. He didn't miss her quick thankful look; he knew she'd want them with Jane if she couldn't be there.

A nurse walked by. Grace stopped her. "Can we go in?"

She warily looked at the three tired agents. "Only two at a time," she told them. "And turn off your cells."

Cho nodded at Rigsby and Grace to go in, seeing that he had his arm protectively around her waist. She wasn't bothering to hide her tears, and in a way Cho respected her for it. At any rate he knew they needed her to be like this, to be Grace. They needed everyone. Lisbon to be strong. Rigsby to be macho, and yet kind of soft. He stared again through the window. Their team didn't work if one of them was missing. They needed everyone to make it complete. He wondered what had happened in that room, with Red John, and wished for the hundredth time that he'd been there. If nothing else, he could be making a statement now and Lisbon could still be here, in with Jane. He looked again at Van Pelt and Rigsby, cautiously touching his hand. The doctors said it was fifty-fifty if Jane lived or died. Cho was hoping the odds soon shifted, even just a little. They needed Jane too.

-----

Lisbon sat opposite the woman from the Attorney General's office, explaining in a monotone how her and Jane had gone to check out the house. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, taking her back to the room and trying to steel herself to retell what had happened.

"I have to say, Patrick Jane may be a pain in the ass, but he doesn't deserve what he's going to get for this," the woman said sympathetically.

"What? For what?" Lisbon was confused – in shock, and over the years her brain had gotten so used to the idea of Jane's revenge that it didn't seem to her a crime anymore.

"For murdering Red John," she said. "I mean, how many people did he tell that he was going to do it? Completely premeditated – let's face it, he's lucky if he gets twenty-five years, probably more."

Again, the world seemed to disappear around Lisbon. Twenty-five years? She blinked. Twenty-five years? That wasn't right. That wasn't fair. Twenty-five years. Minelli noticed that she'd spaced out, and glared at the lawyer for her bluntness. "Teresa…" he said.

"Here," snapping out of it, she forced a weak smile. "Sorry, just… confused. Jane didn't do anything."

Both Minelli and the lawyer stared incredulously. "Pardon?"

Lisbon thought of Jane grabbing her gun – her gun. "He was about to shoot Jane. So I killed him. I killed Red John."

Dun dun dun. :P