Authors Note: This is a little one shot that came to me after Sarah told Wayne she was pregnant. I had forgotten about it, but figured I'd publish it now after the last episode as I feel we are going to see a lot more of RJ and Jane. It's just my thoughts on Red John's motives, as he was so quick to try and kill Darcy; it begged the question, the team always being left alone do they ever wonder why. (I know it's because it's T.V. but I decided to play with the idea.)

Disclaimer: Nope still not mine, probably a good thing too as I've a strong desire to hit Bruno of late and I do kettle bells.


Lisbon closed her blinds, snapping the wire, trying unsuccessfully to expel some of her anger. She may have lost her mind but lately she had begun to see a picture form, one that Jane, in all his self assured, egotistical glory had failed to comprehend.

Rigsby's announcement that he was about to become a father had completed a mental puzzle she hadn't known she was solving. She hadn't been excited or joyous as one might presume she would be, no, she had been suspicious. So she plastered a smile on her face, as fake as the Picasso's on the bullpens walls, and escaped the first chance she got.

Jane had no doubt put her negative attitude and false platitudes down to jealousy, as much as it irked her that he could think that she was that petty... well it was better than his knowing the truth. She had potentially figured out Red Johns end game, but she couldn't tell a soul, not even to warn them.

She paced the office, marching an orderly line up and down, up and down, bothered by her confinement in this small space. Lisbon was desperately trying to gather her thoughts and ideas, hoping they wouldn't fit together, fearful they might.

Red John was going to finish Jane off by taking his second family from him, and damn that murderous bastard, it was probably going to work. Murder was simply too obvious, though there was still a chance that he would make an example of her.

No he was destroying them all, taking away the individual things that made them special, those particular traits that made them who they were, knowing this would shatter the team, forever ruining themselves and their dynamic.

United they stand, divided they'll fall, and their inevitable descent will be spectacular.

He had been slowly infiltrating her clan, breaking their bonds and turning each of them, into empty shrivelled husks of who they once were. Each one was special, she knew this, it's why she hired them, but that was years ago and now they meant so much more to her, not only with regards to work but to each other as a family unit.

Poor Van Pelt, Lisbon felt so very responsible when it came to their youngest recruit. When she started she was so young, sweet and kind, now she was barely clinging on. He had taken her beliefs from her, ripping it away along with her innocence. Her greatest strength was her faith in the world, that it was all going to work out. If you were a good person then good would find you.

She was the teams' moral compass, the one whose views were unshakeable, so much tougher than she was given credit for. While her values were perhaps, misguided like Jane said, because they were based in religion, they came from her desire to explain away evil. She just wanted to help anyone at any time, to make the world a better place; well at least she had wanted that.

Red John had taken that from her by attacking the foundation of her convictions, the basis of her notions, he made her doubt love. The sanctity of marriage, the coming together of two people, the joining of two under God, was what Grace had believed was the ultimate union of body and soul.

Love was how people show that there was something true in the messed up word and thus it would be the salvation of humanity. It was pure and therefore it should have remained out of the shadow's reach.

Instead he had taken her, turned her world view upside down, snatched everything she had held dear from her and turned her into a slightly crazed vigilante, who not only hated men, but now the world and herself.

The news of Rigsby's baby had sent her over the edge; her facial expression had mimicked Lisbon in its dishonesty. She could see it was the final straw, the noose around her neck, the one man that hadn't lied or manipulated her, gone.

She had given him up for a job, one that mattered far less to her, now that it had almost cost her, her life and the lives of those she cared about. It was a hard blow realising now her true love wouldn't always be there to save and support her and the dream that they'd eventually work out, died, snuffing out the last semblance of true love she had.

This brought her full circle in her thoughts, right back to Rigsby's announcement. Red John had managed two birds with one heavily pregnant stone. His part of their rag tag group was the heart, his vulnerability, his tenderness, his simplistic ideals; well they were more important than anyone gave him credit for.

He was looking for someone to care for and never leave him, unlike his family. He was the little brother of the group, he was the comic relief, he was the fool or so he thought.

He never gave himself credit for his unwavering dependability, always being there in a moment of crisis, under the pain of death he would never leave you. He loved them all so freely, they were flawed but he never saw it.

She valued his strong empathy for woman; many times she came across men who couldn't respect a female, who treated them as a second class citizen, not just in this job but in life. The world needed more men like Wayne Rigsby, if Red John left any of him remaining when he was done.

He placed women on a pedestal, it was made him a good agent, but a great man. He was the core of the group, his light-hearted nature and caring soul, he was their light in the world's darkness.

So when he was given the one thing, that if it was taken away would break him, well, that's when she had grown suspicious. Rigsby wanted to be a father, more than anything and he was up to bat now.

Oh she had no doubt Sarah was a plant, a pawn in Red Johns end game. The timing was just too perfect, because Rigsby would be there for his child, in his mind he would be able to protect the baby and would be a better man than his father.

He would do the honourable thing, he would do his best for that baby, and Sarah by proxy, would be a woman held in the highest regard. When that woman broke him, and she would, taking away his baby, hopefully disappearing and not the unthinkable alternative, he would shatter inside. He would lose his heart, that big gentle all encompassing heart. It would fracture and so would he, suffering through his self doubt, trying to find them, he would blame himself.

Then there was Cho, their strength and reason, his only Achilles heel was much like her own in some ways, they were both the job. Two people who were trying to erase mistakes of the past, through their actions in the present. He was steadfast currently, but his identity was correlated to the respect of his peers. From his gang days, through to the academy and finally with the C.B.I., how people saw him was intrinsically linked to who he was.

He was their back bone, his unwavering silent support allowed her to follow Jane into the abyss as he would look after the others and her if she needed it. He would protect them with every last breath. He let the world see an unemotional, cold man, who had a near impossible to break, so far from reality.

He betrayed no outward vulnerability, a man who could withstand any storm, well, to most it looked that way, he almost challenged people to find a crack in his armour. Surprisingly it turned out his vice was a woman and somehow Red John had known that.

Only that maniacal cretin could have foreseen his need for a fiery woman to melt his ice heart. She would never have seen it coming, but an attractive hooker well placed in his line of sight, smart enough to challenge him, taunt him and eventually entice him was all it took for him to risk it all.

His thoughts that he could keep the two worlds separated were ludicrous. Up until he met Summer no one was in any doubt that he would be a C.B.I agent until he retired. Lisbon knew from what he had already done for Jane and Rigsby, hell even things he's done for her, that for anyone he cared about he would bend the rules, then break them if that didn't work.

He was going to be put in a situation, where he would do this for Summer and it would bring about his ruin. Without the respect of his peers, away from his job, he would still need that control, the respect and without a legitimate source, he would search for it somewhere shadier.

Jane who foolishly believed he had nothing left in this world, his stubborn refusal to acknowledge what he built here, was probably what gave the serial killer his idea. Whether Jane realised it or not Red John had figured they would always be there for him and he needed them all to keep going.

His half assed efforts to distance himself were laughable. He believed he was above reproach, but as each team member fell to pieces, their uniqueness completely stripped away then what would he do. With his new family gone he would never weather the storm.

She hadn't realised it at the time, but it had been her turn first, instead of a quick strike like the others hers had been a slow growing seed of doubt, a vine twisting around her soul, crushing her inside silently.

When Red John took Bosco and his team, using a fellow employee, he destroyed her trust in the C.B.I's ability to protect her and those she cared about. Her workplace stood for justice; it was supposed to be untouchable, a building that represented safety for the community and herself, a concrete ideal that was meant to always be there.

Home had never felt safe to her and it never would, far too many shadows hiding, way too many secrets. A home to her was a possibility for violence, death, humans violating the laws of the world all behind closed doors.

But work, this building, this floor had been her haven, her rock. He took her friend, several in fact and then the only father figure she had.

Not only that, he took something far more precious, he took her sense of self, her reliance in the one thing in her life that meant something, her ability to protect those she cares about. That was the worst part, she had lost the trust in herself that she could protect those she cared for, stop the hurt, prevent the blackness she had lived through and with, from ever getting those she loved.

This is why she cut off ties with people; this is why she focused on solving Red John. She had somewhat made it through her initial attack but she knew another one was coming, far worse than the last one and that had sent her into a spiralling depression she had barely avoided being caught in.

Her faith in people was so badly destroyed that she feared any new person she met, she didn't trust them, each man that asked her out, she figured he had an ulterior motive. Her stomach knotted, her defence mechanism was no doubt why Grace had to suffer through that particular form of attack.

She was so fearful now, eventually he would break her or kill her, and she no longer felt secure anymore, anywhere. He had taken the C.B.I., her safe place violated, and now he wanted it all. She couldn't tell Jane. He would pull away and get himself killed. He was obstinate, idiotic and a little crazy.

Perhaps this was his second strike. That this was the ultimate betrayal that Red John had orchestrated for her, where she couldn't trust Jane not to leave her or to save her as promised. He took away her ability to trust Jane not to abandon her, like everyone else she loved had. He wanted her all alone with the weight of the world on her shoulders watching her second family splinter, terrified of what was next unable to stop it.