[the Mentalist, Big Bang fan-fic] Red Hair Black Heart - Chapter One
Title: Red Hair, Black Heart
Author: Little Firestar (aka LizFromItaly on fanfiction.net)
Artist:
aprilvolition
Link to art: http://aprilvolition.livejournal.com/104743.html
Word Count: +34.300 (plus author's note)
Rating: T (to be on the safe side)
Summary: The past: a man, trying to rebuild his life; two boys, with no love, born only to be exploited, and two teenagers, stars in their own way in the carnie. Today: a doctor of many things, trying to make up for his mistakes; the most notorious serial killer in California’s history; a young man, made cynical by life; a professional stuntman, no longer under the spotlights; a former psych, now a consultant for the CBI, looking for vengeance. Patrick Jane is about to discover the true evil behind Red John, and a world he never knew existed.
Disclaimer: sadly, neither The Mentalist nor Marvel's Characters belong to me, although I'm writing fanfics about the both of them from years.... what's mine it's the plot, though.
Notes: First of my two Mentalist Big Bang Fanfic; X-Over with the Marvel Universe, no knowledge needed.
Storie's un-beated, so, all misatkes are mine. Many thanks to
aprilvolition for providing the amazing art and the last sentence of the summary.
[Prologue]
Chapter One
Sacramento County Jail, June 2011
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It is only one day after the end of the world as he has knew for too long that Patrick Jane finally understands what feeling all right, being relieved, could mean, almost a whole day to process that the world has, indeed, started to turn for him yet again, that he is no more frozen in the past, standing in front of a door with a note and butchered bodies inside with a smiley face of blood on the wall.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">But it’s not just that. It’s not just because the nightmare is over. It’s because she is there, sitting in front of him in the visiting room of the jail. But it doesn’t matter where they are. It only matters that Lisbon is there, with him, alive and well, even if, from time to time, she barely touches her injured shoulder, but he knows, he sees the signs in her. It’s not that bed, and anyway, she’ll get better in no time. Everything will be well, in due time.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">They stay in silence, a silence not dramatic, but somehow comfortable, like they were used to it (and maybe they are), just his intake of breath breaking it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She is not only OK like she told him over the phone. She is fine and well and safe. With him. Like, somehow, him as well.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She can feel them, his eyes, curious and smiling and full of mischief, burning a path over her body, studying her, carefully, looking for a confirmation, of his whishes, of reality or of his fears, she doesn’t know, and maybe she doesn’t want to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She blushes under his scrutiny, and what had started like something comfortable soon turns into the exact opposite, at least for her. She feels the needs to break the silence, to talk, start a conversation, any conversation, just because she isn’t sure she’ll be able to keep it up, if the man will not stop staring at her soon. Or at least, he could drop the smirk. The smirk, that smirk on Patrick Jane, can be rather annoying. Like him. And annoying isn’t the only thing Patrick Jane can be and, considered the recent events, definitely is. Because what he did, more or less proves that she has been right about him from the start, from day two (on day one she had felt generous, and had given him the benefit of doubt).
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, I guess I got a little carried away, and, I’d say scared. And it looked like there was a lot of blood, but, really, it was nothing, I mean, the bullet just gazed me, I didn’t even need stiches, just a couple of Bands-Aid…” she rambles non-stop, and waves it away with a complete nonchalance, a nonchalance she is far from feeling in reality, but that she doesn’t want to allow him to see. The truth is, she got scared, and a lot. She can’t forget the terrible pain, running through her like an electrical shock and liquid fire, and the pool of blood she was found by the medics, a pool of blood apparently coming from nowhere, but that forensic attributed to her… unexplainable, because if that was her blood, she should have been dead, but instead, she is there, with no memory of what happened but well… one minute, she was at the phone with Jane, the next, she was passing out. And when she regained consciousness, it was to Van Pelt’s falls of red hair tickling her nose, the younger agent kneeling at her side, putting pressure on the wound all the while silently crying, but motionless and whispering at low voice, like in shock. Perfectly understandable, since the “rookie” had just shot dead her soon to be husband.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">That’s’ what scares her, this confusion, and the fact that she doesn’t have a bloody idea of how she is supposed to feel towards this unpleasant situation, a situation getting more and more unpleasant by the minute, and, if she knows Jane- which, by the way, she does, maybe even too well for her own taste and good - it’s just a matter of seconds before everything could escalate.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Oh, well, it’s now or never. Time to break the ice, brave little soldier….
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Jane, listen, there are been new developments in your case…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Really?” she clenches her teeth, barely resisting the urge to hit with her fist the metal table just to make the bastard understand what he isn’t supposed to do or say, what he shouldn’t say at all. And grinning at her with those oh, so charming eyes is definitely something he shouldn’t do if he takes in good consideration the fact that he is still alive. He should be glad that they took her gun away when she entered, otherwise, he’d be running for his life instead of grinning, the bastard idiot.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She lifts her eyebrows at him, barely resisting rolling her eyes out of frustration and grunting at loud. And doing few other things, like grabbing him for the collar and give him a good old fashioned scroll. She is so mad with him, so annoyed by his stupid and childish behavior, by his nonchalance on the whole thing, that there’s a tiny, little part of her that’s incredibly sadistically happy about the news she has to deliver.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Well, almost. After all, the whole universe is aware of her soft spot for the unruly consultant, and Jane is, well, Jane. Maybe she’ll just tell him to go to Hell and take a toothbrush. Or sheep deep.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You see, Jane, the fact is… you’ll be released tomorrow morning.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He smiles at her, of a sad but honest and gentle smile, and takes her hands in his big ones, caressing her soft skin with his thumbs, making her blush, making her fight to free her hands, to break the connection with his eyes, but she can’t. There’s just something so… magnetic about his eyes, especially now, that she feels he is going to be completely open, and honest, now that he feels, somehow… free.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">That tiny, little part of her is gone.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Lisbon, look at me, and listen. I’m flattered that you are willingly to put aside your principles and to lie for me, but there’s no need to, I don’t want to, ok? Let me alone to fight this battle, let me do this on my own, please, don’t get involved more than you already are.” He stops, takes a big breath, and looks at her, her breath dead in her throat, time stilled and teary eyes. She doesn’t know if she should hate him or hug him and never let it go of this man. “Lisbon, I know we discussed this more than once, and I know you feel guilty because you knew and weren’t able to stop me, but, hear me out: there’s no need. It pains me, knowing that I broke our trust and the promise to never hurt you and be there to save you, but it was to be done, and by me and me alone. That’s why I’ll stay in front of the judge, the jury and the DA admitting what I did, I don’t care about the consequences for me. He was a monster, he killed and tortured the only people I truly cared back then because of my own words. I was the one starting it and I ended it, killing him in cold blood. He paid, not how I wanted to make him pay, but he paid nevertheless, and the world is free from a mass murderer.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Patrick…” she calls him with his first name, searching for his eyes, somehow it feels right, one of the few occasions it actually feels right doing so. “Patrick, listen to me, you didn’t.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">His grips becomes tighter, warm of him opposite to cold metal of the table under their arms. Many thoughts pass through her mind. She wonders why he is holding her, because he has never been so physical with her, never before. Is it just a friendly thing, or does she have to see something romantic beyond his actions? Or is he simply relieved that… for something? Because she is, relieved, and she is sure he is as well. But, probably, not for her same reason.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I’m glad you aren’t hurting because of me, Lisbon. I knew that you were going to understand why I needed to do it.” His smile, and his intake of breath, breaks her heart, scattering it in millions of tiny little pieces. She was right: he is, indeed, relieved. And definitely not for the same reason she is as well.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Jane, what I mean is that… you didn’t make it” He looks at her, confused. She can’t stand his eyes, not right now, has to look away, regain that composure she has lost over the last few days.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I can’t… doctors wasted their times saving him instead of, I don’t know, a mother, or… a scientist that could have cured cancer? They… he shouldn’t be alive! It’s just… it’s not…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She simply shakes her head in a silent no. The actual word never leaves her lips, there’s no need to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“After you shoot, in the general commotion, the police got to you first, and there was people running everywhere, even around the body, and… he just walked away, Jane.” Literally, she’d like to add, but she doesn’t. It’s not the right time to try to lift the air and brighten the mood.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Stop being delusional, Lisbon, I killed him, and I’m taking full responsibility, I told you.” He lets it go of her hands abruptly, and faces Lisbon, voice hard, strong, eyes void, just crazy and evil. That’s Patrick Jane when he deals with Red John, Patrick Jane at his worst. Her friend, someone she deeply cares for, someone she doesn’t recognize any longer. Not in these moments, at least.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I’ll show you the footages if you don’t believe me” Crazy eyes meet tender, translucent and hurt ones, eyes that have never been able to hide from him. And that’s when he gulps, revelation clear in his eyes like an Epiphany on his way to Damascus.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She is telling the truth. Red John is still at large, alive, out of their reach once again, once again one step in front of him, of them.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She takes his hands again, and this time she is the one initiating the contact and holding him, the one looking for his eyes. “Jane, listen, he probably was prepared, he probably had a vest on him…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But I saw it, Lisbon! I saw the blood! I shot him dead and he was bleeding from his heart! I shot him, he started bleeding, and then he fell on the ground! I saw it, Lisbon, I was there, I looked at him dying with my own eyes!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I know, Jane, I saw the footage, and I think he may have faked it, just to mess with you, let you believe you’ve lost your mind. The vest probably avoided any damage, but couldn’t absorb the impact, you know how vests work, and… I don’t know, maybe it was the impact, maybe he really fell, maybe he was into shock, or maybe he just faked it right from the start. All I know is that there’s this image of him, getting up and walking away like nothing happened while everyone was either running or focusing on you.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Suddenly, he frees his hands from her gasp, and starts walks frantically all across the room, pacing, red eyes focused on the soil, wide open, breathing and heartbeat erratic, the maniac he is when Red John is concerned, what he hoped he wasn’t going to be any longer. Self-punishment isn’t over for him yet. Maybe, it will never be.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She hides her face under the cascade of her dark, long hair, scared, trying to avoid looking at him, her heart falling into, yet again, millions of tiny little pieces. And what is hilarious is that she isn’t scared of what he could do to her. She is scared for him, feels, yet again, the need to pull him out of his misery, the darkness enveloping him, her, self-proclaimed savior of all things Jane.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“It’s not right, Lisbon, it can’t be right, you are wrong….” He stops, and turns to look at her, those eyes, that look, the same she saw so many years before, a night, into the home of a man who was supposed to protect the law but was the son of a killer and the helper of Red John, a man who almost killed her and that Jane shoot dead before he could end her life short… she remembers it, the day Jane killed Sheriff Hardy to save her, the night he killed his only link to Red John to keep her safe, the day he chose life over vengeance, over death. She wonders if he would do the same again. “IT’S NOT TRUE!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, yes Jane, it is, it’s the truth…” She literally jumps from her seat, and is the one pacing, running, running to him, taking him in her arms, both kneeling on the cold pavement of the jail, her hands on his shoulders, chin, face, back, knees, hair… everything to make him look at her, to make him see the truth, and to bring him back with her, in the here and now, to try to bring him out of the darkness, the punishment he casted upon himself a long time before, the night everything changed, turning him from the man he once was to the one he is right now, and not the one he can be, the one she takes glances of every now and then. “Jane, listen to me. Because of you and O’Laughlin, we have a name, Timothy Carter, and a face. Forensic is searching his own place. We’re checking every place he could be, collecting info about his past whereabouts. We’re close, Jane, as close as we’ve never been before, and I know we are going to stop him, this time it’s the right time. We’re are going to make it, all of us, together, me, you, the team….” She starts to cry. That has never been her intention, and at first, she doesn’t even realizes she is the one doing it. When she feels the moisture wetting her face, actually, she is quite stunned. But not that much. It’s not the first time she is crying over Jane, for Jane. “Soon, very soon, he’ll have a needle up into his arm. I swear, Jane, we’ll catch him, together, and we’ll help deliver justice and you’ll finally be free. Its’ a promise, ok? Please, promise that you’ll help me keeping this one, I’m begging you…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He just nods, not adding anything furthermore, and she smiles, smiles of a sad smiles tainted by her tears. She barely resists the urge to kiss his forehead, run her fingers through his damn blond curls like he was a lost child. Even if he does seem like a lost little child. Maybe, deep down, he is .
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You’ll be released in few hours time, at worst tomorrow morning… it may take a little longer because, even if you shot at him because he was trying to escape, you did so with an unregistered weapon, so I guess there could be people trying to teach you a lesson, and you don’t know how much I’d love to be one of them, because I agree with them up to a certain point, even if…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Breath, Lisbon, in and out, like I thought you to…” he smiles, of a sad smile, but it’s a smile nevertheless, and a start, as good as any. After all, it’s not the first time he fakes, he puts on a mask, and it’s better than the broken man, the crazy lunatic she has faced until a moment ago. She just nods, tears, now silent, wetting his shirt. He hugs her, holding her for few instants in his arms, her hands on his chest, warm of her palm through the fabric of his clothes, his around her waist, pressing her against him, and it’s not awkward, it’s warm and familiar and nice, like refreshing breeze coming from the ocean, nothing like all the other times they have hugged for this or that reason, it’s just like… like that time she was fighting to find her mind back, when Carmen framed her for murder, and all he wanted to do was making her feel better and get better himself in the process. “I’ll see you soon, woman.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She frees herself from his embrace, blushing, making him forget for a while everything that is going on, the grin on his face at her reaction worth everything and some more.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Just few hours, and he’ll be once again a free man. Just few hours, and the hunt will start once again … and this time, it will end. For real.
Author: Little Firestar (aka LizFromItaly on fanfiction.net)
Artist:
aprilvolition
Link to art: http://aprilvolition.livejournal.com/104743.html
Word Count: +34.300 (plus author's note)
Rating: T (to be on the safe side)
Summary: The past: a man, trying to rebuild his life; two boys, with no love, born only to be exploited, and two teenagers, stars in their own way in the carnie. Today: a doctor of many things, trying to make up for his mistakes; the most notorious serial killer in California’s history; a young man, made cynical by life; a professional stuntman, no longer under the spotlights; a former psych, now a consultant for the CBI, looking for vengeance. Patrick Jane is about to discover the true evil behind Red John, and a world he never knew existed.
Disclaimer: sadly, neither The Mentalist nor Marvel's Characters belong to me, although I'm writing fanfics about the both of them from years.... what's mine it's the plot, though.
Notes: First of my two Mentalist Big Bang Fanfic; X-Over with the Marvel Universe, no knowledge needed.
Storie's un-beated, so, all misatkes are mine. Many thanks to
aprilvolition for providing the amazing art and the last sentence of the summary.
[Prologue]
Chapter One
Sacramento County Jail, June 2011
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">It is only one day after the end of the world as he has knew for too long that Patrick Jane finally understands what feeling all right, being relieved, could mean, almost a whole day to process that the world has, indeed, started to turn for him yet again, that he is no more frozen in the past, standing in front of a door with a note and butchered bodies inside with a smiley face of blood on the wall.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">But it’s not just that. It’s not just because the nightmare is over. It’s because she is there, sitting in front of him in the visiting room of the jail. But it doesn’t matter where they are. It only matters that Lisbon is there, with him, alive and well, even if, from time to time, she barely touches her injured shoulder, but he knows, he sees the signs in her. It’s not that bed, and anyway, she’ll get better in no time. Everything will be well, in due time.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">They stay in silence, a silence not dramatic, but somehow comfortable, like they were used to it (and maybe they are), just his intake of breath breaking it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She is not only OK like she told him over the phone. She is fine and well and safe. With him. Like, somehow, him as well.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She can feel them, his eyes, curious and smiling and full of mischief, burning a path over her body, studying her, carefully, looking for a confirmation, of his whishes, of reality or of his fears, she doesn’t know, and maybe she doesn’t want to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She blushes under his scrutiny, and what had started like something comfortable soon turns into the exact opposite, at least for her. She feels the needs to break the silence, to talk, start a conversation, any conversation, just because she isn’t sure she’ll be able to keep it up, if the man will not stop staring at her soon. Or at least, he could drop the smirk. The smirk, that smirk on Patrick Jane, can be rather annoying. Like him. And annoying isn’t the only thing Patrick Jane can be and, considered the recent events, definitely is. Because what he did, more or less proves that she has been right about him from the start, from day two (on day one she had felt generous, and had given him the benefit of doubt).
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, I guess I got a little carried away, and, I’d say scared. And it looked like there was a lot of blood, but, really, it was nothing, I mean, the bullet just gazed me, I didn’t even need stiches, just a couple of Bands-Aid…” she rambles non-stop, and waves it away with a complete nonchalance, a nonchalance she is far from feeling in reality, but that she doesn’t want to allow him to see. The truth is, she got scared, and a lot. She can’t forget the terrible pain, running through her like an electrical shock and liquid fire, and the pool of blood she was found by the medics, a pool of blood apparently coming from nowhere, but that forensic attributed to her… unexplainable, because if that was her blood, she should have been dead, but instead, she is there, with no memory of what happened but well… one minute, she was at the phone with Jane, the next, she was passing out. And when she regained consciousness, it was to Van Pelt’s falls of red hair tickling her nose, the younger agent kneeling at her side, putting pressure on the wound all the while silently crying, but motionless and whispering at low voice, like in shock. Perfectly understandable, since the “rookie” had just shot dead her soon to be husband.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">That’s’ what scares her, this confusion, and the fact that she doesn’t have a bloody idea of how she is supposed to feel towards this unpleasant situation, a situation getting more and more unpleasant by the minute, and, if she knows Jane- which, by the way, she does, maybe even too well for her own taste and good - it’s just a matter of seconds before everything could escalate.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Oh, well, it’s now or never. Time to break the ice, brave little soldier….
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Jane, listen, there are been new developments in your case…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Really?” she clenches her teeth, barely resisting the urge to hit with her fist the metal table just to make the bastard understand what he isn’t supposed to do or say, what he shouldn’t say at all. And grinning at her with those oh, so charming eyes is definitely something he shouldn’t do if he takes in good consideration the fact that he is still alive. He should be glad that they took her gun away when she entered, otherwise, he’d be running for his life instead of grinning, the bastard idiot.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She lifts her eyebrows at him, barely resisting rolling her eyes out of frustration and grunting at loud. And doing few other things, like grabbing him for the collar and give him a good old fashioned scroll. She is so mad with him, so annoyed by his stupid and childish behavior, by his nonchalance on the whole thing, that there’s a tiny, little part of her that’s incredibly sadistically happy about the news she has to deliver.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Well, almost. After all, the whole universe is aware of her soft spot for the unruly consultant, and Jane is, well, Jane. Maybe she’ll just tell him to go to Hell and take a toothbrush. Or sheep deep.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You see, Jane, the fact is… you’ll be released tomorrow morning.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He smiles at her, of a sad but honest and gentle smile, and takes her hands in his big ones, caressing her soft skin with his thumbs, making her blush, making her fight to free her hands, to break the connection with his eyes, but she can’t. There’s just something so… magnetic about his eyes, especially now, that she feels he is going to be completely open, and honest, now that he feels, somehow… free.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">That tiny, little part of her is gone.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Lisbon, look at me, and listen. I’m flattered that you are willingly to put aside your principles and to lie for me, but there’s no need to, I don’t want to, ok? Let me alone to fight this battle, let me do this on my own, please, don’t get involved more than you already are.” He stops, takes a big breath, and looks at her, her breath dead in her throat, time stilled and teary eyes. She doesn’t know if she should hate him or hug him and never let it go of this man. “Lisbon, I know we discussed this more than once, and I know you feel guilty because you knew and weren’t able to stop me, but, hear me out: there’s no need. It pains me, knowing that I broke our trust and the promise to never hurt you and be there to save you, but it was to be done, and by me and me alone. That’s why I’ll stay in front of the judge, the jury and the DA admitting what I did, I don’t care about the consequences for me. He was a monster, he killed and tortured the only people I truly cared back then because of my own words. I was the one starting it and I ended it, killing him in cold blood. He paid, not how I wanted to make him pay, but he paid nevertheless, and the world is free from a mass murderer.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Patrick…” she calls him with his first name, searching for his eyes, somehow it feels right, one of the few occasions it actually feels right doing so. “Patrick, listen to me, you didn’t.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">His grips becomes tighter, warm of him opposite to cold metal of the table under their arms. Many thoughts pass through her mind. She wonders why he is holding her, because he has never been so physical with her, never before. Is it just a friendly thing, or does she have to see something romantic beyond his actions? Or is he simply relieved that… for something? Because she is, relieved, and she is sure he is as well. But, probably, not for her same reason.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I’m glad you aren’t hurting because of me, Lisbon. I knew that you were going to understand why I needed to do it.” His smile, and his intake of breath, breaks her heart, scattering it in millions of tiny little pieces. She was right: he is, indeed, relieved. And definitely not for the same reason she is as well.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Jane, what I mean is that… you didn’t make it” He looks at her, confused. She can’t stand his eyes, not right now, has to look away, regain that composure she has lost over the last few days.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I can’t… doctors wasted their times saving him instead of, I don’t know, a mother, or… a scientist that could have cured cancer? They… he shouldn’t be alive! It’s just… it’s not…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She simply shakes her head in a silent no. The actual word never leaves her lips, there’s no need to.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“After you shoot, in the general commotion, the police got to you first, and there was people running everywhere, even around the body, and… he just walked away, Jane.” Literally, she’d like to add, but she doesn’t. It’s not the right time to try to lift the air and brighten the mood.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Stop being delusional, Lisbon, I killed him, and I’m taking full responsibility, I told you.” He lets it go of her hands abruptly, and faces Lisbon, voice hard, strong, eyes void, just crazy and evil. That’s Patrick Jane when he deals with Red John, Patrick Jane at his worst. Her friend, someone she deeply cares for, someone she doesn’t recognize any longer. Not in these moments, at least.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I’ll show you the footages if you don’t believe me” Crazy eyes meet tender, translucent and hurt ones, eyes that have never been able to hide from him. And that’s when he gulps, revelation clear in his eyes like an Epiphany on his way to Damascus.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She is telling the truth. Red John is still at large, alive, out of their reach once again, once again one step in front of him, of them.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She takes his hands again, and this time she is the one initiating the contact and holding him, the one looking for his eyes. “Jane, listen, he probably was prepared, he probably had a vest on him…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But I saw it, Lisbon! I saw the blood! I shot him dead and he was bleeding from his heart! I shot him, he started bleeding, and then he fell on the ground! I saw it, Lisbon, I was there, I looked at him dying with my own eyes!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I know, Jane, I saw the footage, and I think he may have faked it, just to mess with you, let you believe you’ve lost your mind. The vest probably avoided any damage, but couldn’t absorb the impact, you know how vests work, and… I don’t know, maybe it was the impact, maybe he really fell, maybe he was into shock, or maybe he just faked it right from the start. All I know is that there’s this image of him, getting up and walking away like nothing happened while everyone was either running or focusing on you.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Suddenly, he frees his hands from her gasp, and starts walks frantically all across the room, pacing, red eyes focused on the soil, wide open, breathing and heartbeat erratic, the maniac he is when Red John is concerned, what he hoped he wasn’t going to be any longer. Self-punishment isn’t over for him yet. Maybe, it will never be.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She hides her face under the cascade of her dark, long hair, scared, trying to avoid looking at him, her heart falling into, yet again, millions of tiny little pieces. And what is hilarious is that she isn’t scared of what he could do to her. She is scared for him, feels, yet again, the need to pull him out of his misery, the darkness enveloping him, her, self-proclaimed savior of all things Jane.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“It’s not right, Lisbon, it can’t be right, you are wrong….” He stops, and turns to look at her, those eyes, that look, the same she saw so many years before, a night, into the home of a man who was supposed to protect the law but was the son of a killer and the helper of Red John, a man who almost killed her and that Jane shoot dead before he could end her life short… she remembers it, the day Jane killed Sheriff Hardy to save her, the night he killed his only link to Red John to keep her safe, the day he chose life over vengeance, over death. She wonders if he would do the same again. “IT’S NOT TRUE!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, yes Jane, it is, it’s the truth…” She literally jumps from her seat, and is the one pacing, running, running to him, taking him in her arms, both kneeling on the cold pavement of the jail, her hands on his shoulders, chin, face, back, knees, hair… everything to make him look at her, to make him see the truth, and to bring him back with her, in the here and now, to try to bring him out of the darkness, the punishment he casted upon himself a long time before, the night everything changed, turning him from the man he once was to the one he is right now, and not the one he can be, the one she takes glances of every now and then. “Jane, listen to me. Because of you and O’Laughlin, we have a name, Timothy Carter, and a face. Forensic is searching his own place. We’re checking every place he could be, collecting info about his past whereabouts. We’re close, Jane, as close as we’ve never been before, and I know we are going to stop him, this time it’s the right time. We’re are going to make it, all of us, together, me, you, the team….” She starts to cry. That has never been her intention, and at first, she doesn’t even realizes she is the one doing it. When she feels the moisture wetting her face, actually, she is quite stunned. But not that much. It’s not the first time she is crying over Jane, for Jane. “Soon, very soon, he’ll have a needle up into his arm. I swear, Jane, we’ll catch him, together, and we’ll help deliver justice and you’ll finally be free. Its’ a promise, ok? Please, promise that you’ll help me keeping this one, I’m begging you…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He just nods, not adding anything furthermore, and she smiles, smiles of a sad smiles tainted by her tears. She barely resists the urge to kiss his forehead, run her fingers through his damn blond curls like he was a lost child. Even if he does seem like a lost little child. Maybe, deep down, he is .
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You’ll be released in few hours time, at worst tomorrow morning… it may take a little longer because, even if you shot at him because he was trying to escape, you did so with an unregistered weapon, so I guess there could be people trying to teach you a lesson, and you don’t know how much I’d love to be one of them, because I agree with them up to a certain point, even if…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Breath, Lisbon, in and out, like I thought you to…” he smiles, of a sad smile, but it’s a smile nevertheless, and a start, as good as any. After all, it’s not the first time he fakes, he puts on a mask, and it’s better than the broken man, the crazy lunatic she has faced until a moment ago. She just nods, tears, now silent, wetting his shirt. He hugs her, holding her for few instants in his arms, her hands on his chest, warm of her palm through the fabric of his clothes, his around her waist, pressing her against him, and it’s not awkward, it’s warm and familiar and nice, like refreshing breeze coming from the ocean, nothing like all the other times they have hugged for this or that reason, it’s just like… like that time she was fighting to find her mind back, when Carmen framed her for murder, and all he wanted to do was making her feel better and get better himself in the process. “I’ll see you soon, woman.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">She frees herself from his embrace, blushing, making him forget for a while everything that is going on, the grin on his face at her reaction worth everything and some more.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Just few hours, and he’ll be once again a free man. Just few hours, and the hunt will start once again … and this time, it will end. For real.