Archive of Our Own ^beta

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She found the list of suspects by accident.
Among the crumpled notes, coffee stains, and memories that lived on his desk, she saw her name. Crossed out.

She froze for a moment, her fingers tracing the thin line that had slashed through six letters.

— “I was on your list?” — her voice was quiet, but unsettled.

Patrick didn’t look up right away. His fingers slid along a cup of cold coffee.

— “You were… briefly.”

— “Why did you cross me out so quickly?” — she didn’t take her eyes off him. — “Maybe I’m just good at hiding. Maybe I’m Red John.”

She raised an eyebrow. He had to answer.

— “No, not you. You’re not capable of something like that.”

Silence hung between them — not heavy. Almost conciliatory.

Lisbon slowly folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket.

— “Next time — just tell me. Don’t leave my name alone among the ghosts.”

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The temperature in the room dropped. The world stopped.
Patrick Jane couldn’t believe his eyes.
Teresa Lisbon was Red John.
He had spent years searching for the man who stole his beautiful wife Angela, and his light, their sweet little daughter Charlie, while all this time, she had been standing behind him.

Patrick Jane had lost. Again.

The serial killer had walked right under his nose. And it was the woman he trusted, the one he fought for… the one he loved.

Patrick had only loved twice in his life.
His first wife.
And the woman who killed her.

For the first time in his life, his feelings had clouded his judgment and he paid the highest price. The lives of those who had fallen under his watch. The lives of his partners.

He would never again see Rigsby’s smile, or Cho’s grim gaze, or Grace’s sharp eyes. And it was his fault — because he had let in someone he should never have trusted.

They stood on the rooftop.
The wind blew over the city.
The lights below flickered like distant stars.
Next to him — only her. The lead actress in this play. The main character in this deadly game. Teresa.

She had won.
And she knew it.
She didn’t even look his way, sure that he wouldn’t pull the trigger, even though the gun was pointed directly at her head.
She only stared down at the small people walking the streets, not knowing there was a dragon above them, watching from the sky, ready to strike.

— “Teresa…” — his hands were shaking.

— “Yes, Patrick,” — she said lightly, turning her head toward him and looking straight into his eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. — “You really never suspected?”

He clenched his teeth. He saw a fog in front of his eyes, and only after a minute did he realize…

It wasn’t fog.

It was tears.

She just smiled — that soft smile with soft eyes, just like she always did.
And Patrick couldn’t tell whether it was real or just another trick.

— “To be honest, Patrick, I enjoyed our time together. All those years. All those cases. The deaths. Your suspicions. Your trust. It was…perfect.”
She began to step closer.

— “One more step and I’ll shoot.”

— “You can shoot. But why? You’ve already lost everything you had.”

And it was the truth.
He had lost everything.
His first family. His daughter and wife. His second family.

But that wasn’t all he had left.
Every time life took someone dear from him, Patrick gained a new strength. The strength to bring pain — twice the pain that had been given to him.
And now that strength was aimed directly at the cause of it all.

— “Instead,” she said, “you can join me. I’m the only one you have left.”

That’s when Patrick Jane made his choice.
He looked straight ahead and saw no future in the mirror before.
And he saw no future now — looking into Lisbon’s eyes, two green springs the color of malachite, in which he had always seen honesty and trust, kindness he never believed he deserved.

He made his choice.

— “Drop the gun, Patrick. You won’t need it,” — she said, opening her arms in an invitation to embrace.

And he did.
He dropped the gun and walked toward her.

— “That was the right choice.”

— “I know.”

In the very next second, he threw them both over the shaky edge of the rooftop.
During the whole fall from roof to earth, he held her close and looked into her face one last time.

But no one ever found out who Red John really was.
It was the truth Patrick Jane took with him.
No one ever knew of Patrick Jane’s sacrifice.
Everyone remembered him only as the annoying CBI consultant who died in a double-suicide with his partner, Teresa Lisbon — a woman the world took too soon, before it would forget him completely.

Goodbye, my dear Patrick Jane.
No one will ever know about your sacrifice.

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