Title: Suffering is the Best Punishment
Author: Shannon - shannyfish
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Mentalist" or its characters, CBS does. This is merely for entertainment purposes only.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Takes Place during Season Two. Red John attacks Jane using his own twisted type of psychological warfare.
Warning: Severe spoilers for season one.

Chapter 1 – "Red John Returns"

Author's Note: this is my first try in "The Mentalist" fandom. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

............................

"Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned." - Charlotte Bronte

CBI Headquarters

Red John.

Jane stared up at the ceiling from where he lay on "his couch." Red John was back. There'd been two deaths in the last few days in the area with all the signs of Red John. He felt like they were so close. So close. He closed his eyes, but opened them again when he was haunted by the memories of coming home...his wife and daughter...the note on the door...the face painted in blood on the wall...his wife's toenails...painted with her own blood.

Finding Red John, in the end, wouldn't be the problem he'd face. Lisbon and the rest of the team and CBI itself would be the hurtles he'd have to overcome. They wanted Red John to go through the justice system. Red John didn't deserve justice. Red John didn't deserve jail. Jail was too easy. He deserved the revenge that he wanted to inflict upon the murderer of his family.

His day of vengeance was coming.

He'd warned Lisbon before. She didn't believe him that he'd rather die and know that she had the information to capture Red John. He would. He'd gladly die if it meant Red John's capture. He'd gladly die.

"Has anyone seen Lisbon?"

His head turned at the query. It was Agent Grace Van Pelt. She looked concerned, though he didn't know why. "She's at some conference, I thought." He remembered her saying that she'd be gone and that he didn't need to come in for the week, but where else could he go? At least if he went in to CBI there would be a better chance of being there when a Red John case came in. He also wasn't in his home forced to remember what had happened.

"They just called from there. She never reported in. They wanted to know if another agent was coming to take her place," Van Pelt responded.

Jane frowned. It wasn't like Lisbon to blow things off. At least not without him there. She was a stickler for work. He sat up and looked over at Van Pelt. "Did you try her cell?"

"She's not picking up."

Van Pelt was definitely worried, but she wasn't the only one. "Maybe her car broke down..."

"And her cell died?" Van Pelt asked. She sighed. "She could be hurt, if it was a hit and run."

"Can't you look up the GPS on her phone?" Jane asked as he got to his feet and headed in her direction. She was already sitting down at her workstation in front of her computer. Cho and Rigsby were out getting coffee and lunch. But he knew that there was no use calling them until they knew where they were going.

"I can look up her vehicle's GPS locator too," Van Pelt said.

He watched as her fingers flew across the keys. "Maybe she's just in a dead zone."

"She would have called."

And he knew that she was right. "Where is she?"

"Her vehicle's in Shaver Lake," Van Pelt announced. "That's not where the conference is."

"I'll call Rigsby and Cho. Track her cell," Jane ordered. He was worried about her. Lisbon wasn't one to just float off course. She'd been looking forward to the conference. He moved to Rigsby's desk and started to call the other two in.

"Her cell's GPS is locking onto a tower in Clovis. That's more than forty miles between the two locations," Van Pelt announced.

She'd turned in her chair towards him, she looked even more worried. "Let's say Lisbon was heading to Shaver Lake for something, would she have to go through Clovis to get there?"

"The conference was in Fresno."

"Can you just check?" Jane doubted that Lisbon had lied about the conference or had decided that she'd go on vacation, but if Clovis was a logical stop on the way to Shaver Lake, then it was something to look into.

He walked back to her once he'd finished his phone call. "Cho and Rigsby are on their way in."

"Clovis would have been a place she'd go through in order to reach Shaver Lake. Clovis is really close to Fresno. Why would she have deviated?"

"Could she have been re-routed on the freeway?"

"Maybe. I can check." Van Pelt turned back to her computer. "I know she was using a GPS unit to make sure she didn't get lost."

.................................

En Route to Clovis

"What's wrong?"

Jane turned his head towards Van Pelt. She looked worried, like she had earlier. He'd been staring out his window since they'd left. He hadn't been listening. "Lisbon will be fine."

"The local police are looking into locating her phone and her vehicle," Van Pelt said. "But that's not what I said.

"I'm sorry," Jane apologized. He'd driven with Van Pelt just because he knew that the ride would be quieter. Though, Cho would be quiet as well, then that would leave Van Pelt and Rigsby together and currently they were acting like they didn't want to have anything to do with one another. Normally he'd press things, so that they were purposely put together in order to face their feelings for each other, but not this time. This time he was more concerned about Lisbon.

"What's wrong with you?"

He heard her that time. Great, now she was worried about him. Not exactly what he wanted. "I'm just worried about Lisbon."

"You've been like this for days."

Silence.

He didn't want to respond to her accusations. He hadn't been acting odd. Jane had been thinking about Red John. How they were getting so close. How he wanted time with him. How he wanted to kill him himself. Jane was trying to figure out how to make that happen with Lisbon, Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Cho along when Red John is finally taken down.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he finally told her. "Maybe something's bothering you? Would you like to talk about it?"

"What?"

Turning the tables always worked well, at the very least it threw the other off of the topic being discussed. "I'm just saying. If you need to talk. I'm here."

Silence.

Grace Van Pelt was speechless. He'd accomplished his goal. For now, they'd ride in silence. He'd be able to focus back on his thoughts. Red John. He tried to focus on him, but he found his thoughts wavering. Lisbon. He didn't like the fact that she was missing. He didn't understand why her phone was in one place and her vehicle was in another and she had yet to contact them. It was almost frightening.

Care.

He did care. Jane hadn't meant or set out to form any type of family after the death of his. He hadn't wanted to form friendships. It had just happened. In truth, he cared deeply for Lisbon and the team. He wanted Rigsby and Van Pelt to finally get past the awkward phase and give in to fate. They were truly meant to be together. He wanted them all to be happy. Jane also wanted Lisbon to be happy. She was always smiling, but their last run in with Red John in which he was forced to kill their only link...he could have lost her.

Lost her.

Jane felt sick. He hadn't meant to care so much for anyone since his wife and daughter. They had been his life. They still were in most ways. Lisbon was different. She shone. They argued, they argued a lot in fact. Their arguing wasn't like fighting, but more like playful banter. Almost like their own language, their own form of flirtation.

Months ago, a man was going to shoot her. Jane ended up shooting him instead and losing all information possible in regards to Red John. He had originally told Lisbon that he would have rather died and known that they got the information than be alive. He wouldn't trade Lisbon's life for the information. No matter how much solace that information on Red John could give him, he couldn't allow for her to die.

Flashes of moments. Freeway. Cars. Bushes. Trees. Exits. Signs. The car was moving, but he wasn't paying attention to where they were going. He wouldn't be able to retrace their route if he needed to. The car started to slow. Off-ramp. Exit.

Welcome to Clovis.

................................

Clovis, California

"We're going to have to spend the night here," Cho announced.

"Did they find Lisbon's phone?" Rigsby asked.

"All I could get out of them is that they have it. They have to retrieve it from lock-up, but the detective I talked to acted like there was something more to it," Van Pelt informed them.

"We need to go to Shaver Lake tonight," Jane finally spoke up. He'd been off to the side. Mostly listening. But this he felt the need to vocalize. They needed to find Lisbon, tonight.

"They said that we may get lost going up the mountain," Van Pelt told him.

"Didn't we bring the GPS? It can't be that hard," Jane told them. "And I'm sure the precinct is on the way to the road up the mountain, am I right?" He looked at them all and wondered if any of them really cared. He had always believed that this bunch were tight, that they were a family. Why weren't they worried? Jane wasn't sure he understood it.

"They won't let us see the phone until the morning," Van Pelt told him. "The chief of police has it specially locked up for us. To ensure that when we get there it's still there. They're trying to help us, Jane."

"She could be in trouble," Jane told them. "Why aren't any of you worried?"

"She can take care of herself," Rigsby told him matter of factly. "The campground's being searched, but it's pretty large. The surrounding area was searched during the day with volunteers. So far, no signs of foul play."

There was something wrong. He could feel it. It wasn't just some simple accident that Lisbon's phone was in Clovis and her vehicle was up at Shaver Lake. No Lisbon. There was something wrong. Something terribly wrong. "Has she ever been threatened in the past?"

"Come on, Jane, we all have."

"Rigsby's right. But no one's ever singled out the boss as far as I can recall," Cho said.

"I'm going up there tonight," Jane said. "You all can meet me up there in the morning."

"Wait," Van Pelt said quickly.

Jane could see a tinge of worry cross over her. He knew that these three thought that they were all tough, but he could see now that there were bits of worry in all of them. She looked back towards Rigsby and Cho. "I'll go with Jane. We'll call you when we get up there."

"We should all go in the morning," Rigsby said quickly.

He focused between Rigsby and Van Pelt. Rigsby was worried for her safety. Most likely that they'd disappear like Lisbon had. "Maybe Cho should go with me."

"Why am I going to be the one lost in the dark on the mountain?" Cho asked.

"We're not going to be lost," Jane told him. "We're going to find Lisbon. I said I'd go alone."

"You're not going alone," Van Pelt said.

Jane watched as she turned to Rigsby. Though there was something dark and deeply hidden in the woman's past, Jane couldn't quite figure out what it was. Whatever it was, it was one of the factors that were keeping her from pursuing a relationship of any kind with Rigsby. Van Pelt couldn't take chances in the current state of mind she was in. It was limiting her life because it limited her choices her path could take.

"You and Cho need to go to the precinct in the morning and see about Lisbon's phone. The chief of police will be in then. Jane and I will meet you by lunch time, and hopefully with the boss."

She seemed strong enough, but Jane was confident that it was part of a façade that she'd worked up. A barrier that she kept, so that people couldn't get close. Sometimes Van Pelt was quiet, but this time she was strong and in the lead. Perhaps Lisbon had rubbed off on her, she just wasn't quite so demanding yet.

"I'll call you as soon as we get there, I promise," Van Pelt said.

Jane noticed that she said this to both of them, but her eyes were on Rigsby. If they weren't in search of Lisbon, he would have definitely found some way to keep them together. Van Pelt, though, always seemed a little more willing than the others to follow in his schemes; he wasn't sure if that was just because she believed in his gifts or if it was just because she trusted him.

"I'll make sure the GPS isn't lying," Jane told them. One of their theories had been that Lisbon's GPS had messed her up, but he intended to test that idea as they headed up the mountain. After all, Van Pelt had the same GPS.

...................................

Camp Edison

Shaver Lake, California

It had taken them nearly two hours to make it all the way up the mountain and to the location where Lisbon's vehicle was supposed to be. The campground was much larger than he'd expected. It was late though and he was worried that Van Pelt was going to run them into a tree if they didn't stop.

"There it is!" Jane shouted as he saw the campground they were going to. Sugar Pine. The host of that specific campground area was expecting them. The administration office had forwarded them there. Lisbon's vehicle was supposed to be located in their third vehicle parking area.

Van Pelt pulled them in and they drove slowly past campsites until they came upon a motor home that had the sign "Sugar Pine Host" in front. He watched as she struggled a bit with putting it into park. Their vehicle was turned off and she looked over at Jane.

"They said they may be sleeping."

He knew it was a possibility, but he intended to knock louder if no one answered with Grace Van Pelt's civilized knocks. Before they could exit, though, a light mounted on the outside of the motor home came on and an elderly couple emerged from the motor home. "Maybe not," Jane said and pointed towards them.

Van Pelt rolled down the window. Jane could see that she was struggling with keeping an awake kind face on. He was just anxious. "Hello," he greeted before she could.

"Are you from the F.B.I.?" the man asked.

"Yes," Van Pelt said and held up her badge. "I'm Agent Grace Van Pelt and this is Patrick Jane."

"I hope we can help," the woman said kindly.

"We've been told that our boss' vehicle is located on your grounds, we were hoping you'd have additional information. If you saw her."

"Her name is Theresa Lisbon," he spoke up. Jane just wanted some idea. Was Lisbon lost? Where was she? Some kind of clue could help. Though he was sure after they found out about the phone and her vehicle that they'd know more. He noticed the man's frown. His stomach knotted in fear.

"Maybe there's been a miscommunication," the man said. "Your friend's vehicle is in our lot, but she's here too. We allowed her to use one of our sites. Our son was up a few days ago and I haven't gotten around to taking down his tent, I let her stay there."

"Do you know why she came up here in the first place?" Van Pelt questioned.

"I was down in Clovis. We thought we had a missing girl...she offered to help."

"She's sweet," the woman asked.

"What campsite is that?" Jane asked impatiently.

The man nodded and then pointed down the narrow dirt path. "She's at campsite seventy, it's right next to the third vehicle parking. They're marked."

"Thanks," Van Pelt responded.

She turned on the vehicle without another word. Maybe it was in case they weren't correct. For all they knew, Lisbon had left...if she had been there. If she was there...why hadn't she called them? Had she thought that no one would realize that she hadn't quite made it to the conference? As Van Pelt drove the campground, it seemed to drag by. It seemed like the numbers didn't climb fast enough.

"Seventy," she announced.

The vehicle was stopped again and turned off. There was a bright orange dome tent set up in the campsite. Lisbon's vehicle could also be seen parked alongside the campsite. There was no light or movement that he could see, but that didn't mean anything.

"You haven't called Rigsby yet," Jane reminded.

"We'll check the tent first," she told him.

"I'll go wake her up," Jane told her. "Go ahead and call him. He's probably pacing the hotel room waiting for your call."

He noticed her eyes roll, but he just smiled. "I won't take long," Jane told her. "Maybe she has a few extra sleeping bags and we can just camp up here tonight."

Opening his door, Jane exited the vehicle. He looked briefly over his shoulder to make sure that she was actually calling. She was. As he entered the campsite, he noticed a battery operated lantern on the table and picked it up. He turned the switch and flipped it on. When he moved it, so that it lit up the side of the tent, he froze.

Blood.

Smile.

Red John.

His mark was on the side of the tent Lisbon was supposed to be in. Red John hadn't been where he'd gone when he'd been informed about Lisbon. Why would he hurt her? Why? It came to him quickly. Lisbon was his family. They were close. Without his wife and child, she was the next closest person to him.

He loved Theresa Lisbon.

It hit him like a train. It was the truth. He loved her. To admit it, though, was to let go the memory of his slaughtered wife and child. He wasn't ready for that. He hadn't wanted her to suffer because of him. He didn't even know if she even felt the same way.

He loved Theresa Lisbon.

Dropping the lantern, the light cascaded back and forth once it hit the ground. The red bloody hand drawn face was still lit up. He hurried around to the flap of the tent. It was zipped. "Lisbon!" he yelled. He hoped for a response. He didn't get one. He unzipped it and stared inside. There was a sleeping bag.

Loved.

Stepped into the tent, he crouched over the sleeping bag. Pulling it back, he wasn't sure what to feel. There was no Theresa Lisbon inside. There was a large stain of crimson blood though. He wanted to scream. To cry. To yell.

"Jane!"

Van Pelt's voice was dim, but he could hear it. She'd obviously noticed Red John's calling card.

The blood.

Theresa Lisbon's blood had been spilled. It soaked the beige lining of the sleeping bag. It coated the tent where it had been used as paint. How much blood was it? Was it enough to mean that she was dead? There was no body. Why wasn't there a body?

Red John.

In that moment, Patrick Jane suddenly realized that no matter what he did, that until Red John was stopped that his suffering would never end. Red John would use every person that he remotely cared about against him. He also realized that he felt like he had when he'd arrived at his bedroom door, he remembered the note vividly on the door, the words, the horror as he reached for the door knob, the face, and then the bodies.

Pain.

Horror.

Pain.

Fear.

Pain.

Panic.

Tears fell from his eyes, but he couldn't find his voice. No sobs or angry screams escaped his lips. He just crouched there uncomfortably staring at the blood in the sleeping bag where Theresa Lisbon had once laid.

"Jane."

A hand rested on his shoulder. He didn't look at her. He couldn't. This was his fault. Theresa Lisbon was dead. It was how Red John operated. He didn't hold prisoners. He just killed. How could he face Grace Van Pelt when he had been the cause of Lisbon's death?

"Jane."

"She's dead..."

................................

TBC....