FIC: Up in Smoke (The Mentalist); 1/1
Title: Up in Smoke
Collection: Detriment
Disclaimer: Me? Own The Mentalist? Nope.
Characters: Wayne Rigsby, Benjamin Rigsby, Teresa Lisbon, Patrick Jane, Grace Van Pelt, Kimball Cho and Sarah Harrigan.
Rating: T
Summary: Wordlessly, he turned from the smoldering wreckage of his life and did as she ordered him to.
Spoilers: Seasons 4 & 5.
Cross-posted: fanfiction.net | AO3
I've been wanting to write some team-centric fics for a really long time now, which is what Detriment (for the most part) will be full of. My first fic, Up in Smoke, fills the fire square on my hurt/comfort bingo square. (FYI, hurt/comfort is a new genre for me to play with...so, yay!)
Pressing Benjamin to his chest, Wayne Rigsby stood and watched his apartment building burn; the dark smoke and orange flames billowing high into the starless night sky. Hoarsely, he tried to provide comfort to his wailing son, but his throat felt tight and all he could do was pat the baby on the back. Had it really been only two hours ago since he had settled Benjamin into his wooden crib, after an exhausting day for both father and son?
Ben’s safe, was the single thought that kept Rigsby together, as he pressed his nose into his baby’s soft dark hair and inhaled deeply; the overwhelming smell of baby powder and shampoo greeted his nostrils and he relaxed at the familiarity of his still-crying son. Ben’s alive. While the fire hadn’t touched either of them, the smoke from the floor below had and as Rigsby had hurried them both down the fire escape, he feared for his son and his son’s lungs. He hadn’t cared that he wasn’t wearing shoes, or that the fire escape was grating against his bare feet, and he certainly hadn’t given a second thought to the fact that he had left his gun and badge inside his burning apartment, until his son had been declared fine.
He had no doubt that Sarah would frantically call his cellphone later, after one of her fellow employees told her about the horrific fire at his apartment building, wondering if Ben was okay. He’d tell her yes, let her hear Ben’s soft coos and tell her not to worry about them, but his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t believe him at all. After having died last year, Sarah was still angry with him and he was just lucky she hadn’t petitioned for sole custody of Ben.
But now that he had no place to live, Sarah could be justified in taking their son away; and the mere thought of that, made Rigsby clutch the boy to his chest tighter.
Seventy-two hours ago, he had just lost his father and he didn’t know what he would do without Ben; the sweet baby boy had been his only high point within the past year and Ben was the only reason why he hadn’t drank after he had watched his father die. Rigsby had never wanted to be like his father, who had simply taken to the bottle for every little thing concerning his only son, the same father, who had died without meeting his grandchild because of his drinking and dangerous lifestyle.
He tried to ignore the small voice in his head that told him he was just like his father. Steve Rigsby had only cared about his precious motorcycle and teaching his son how to be a real man, which had torn their entire family apart. Rigsby had, after all, driven Sarah away in his need to be loyal to both his team and to his job. He hadn’t even considered how Sarah would feel at hearing the awful news that her boyfriend, the father of her only child, had died because of a fellow colleague. Blaming Patrick Jane for Sarah’s leaving seemed highly appropriate, but Rigsby was mature enough to admit his mistakes; and he knew he had made many, especially where Sarah was concerned.
Tears pricked at his eyes again, but he refused to shed another tear; he had to remain strong. His sweet and innocent baby boy, who had finally quieted down, didn’t need to know how many demons that his father carried around and how many of those demons weighed upon his shoulders.
Rigsby felt a hand on his upper arm and he turned his head slightly to find Teresa Lisbon next to him. Instead of asking why she was there, he turned his head back to watch his apartment building. The three stood in silence, her hand on his arm and Ben pressed against his chest, until the fire was gone, and there was nothing more to watch.
“Come on, Wayne.” Lisbon finally broke the silence and he glanced at her in question, not trusting his voice. Lisbon scaled him with a look. “You and Ben need somewhere to stay.”
He started to shake his head; he and Ben would find somewhere else to stay, as he refused to impose their presences on Lisbon. Rigsby watched Lisbon’s eyes dart down to the (now) soundly sleeping Ben with a tight frown, and he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“It’s not an offer, Rigsby.” Lisbon stopped him, her voice low. “It’s an order.” He stared at her in surprise, before she motioned for him to follow.
Wordlessly, he turned from the smoldering wreckage of his life and did as she ordered him to.
{+}
“I’m so sorry, Wayne.” Grace Van Pelt said from his right, as the entire Serious Crimes Unit sat gathered in Lisbon’s living room. Rigsby sent her a feeble smile; he hadn’t said more than two words since Lisbon had offered her guest bedroom to them both three hours ago. In a makeshift crib that Cho had borrowed from one of his neighbors, Ben slept soundly feet from the team.
“How did Ben take his first fire alarm?” Jane asked, while he sat next to Lisbon. “Charlotte always hated them as a baby.” Rigsby blinked at Jane. Jane had never once volunteered information about his daughter before, and with a fleeting glance at Lisbon, Rigsby knew Lisbon was just as surprised. “What?”
Instead of answering Jane’s second question, Rigsby cleared his throat. “He was louder than the alarm itself.” Jane cracked a smile, before he leaned back into Lisbon’s couch.
“That’s how it usually works.” Cho replied and Grace nodded in agreement.
“Can you blame him though?” Grace asked. “They might be useful, but they’re also awful.”
Lisbon nodded. “I thought my eardrums were going to burst last month.” She shot Jane a withering glare, to which he continued to smile. “In school, we had fire drills often. I always covered my ears, as the wailing usually provoked a headache.” He heard Jane chuckle. “What are you laughing at, Jane?”
“Firstly, I said I was sorry. I wasn’t trying to set the kitchenette on fire, I only wanted our suspect to admit her guilt-which she did!” Jane told her. “Secondly, I honestly thought you’d be screaming along with it. Or at least screaming, shut up, at it.” Rigsby watched Lisbon elbow Jane in the abdomen. “Now, was that really necessary?”
“Yes,” Lisbon, Cho and Grace replied in unison, which caused Rigsby to smile briefly.
“Why do you all take such great pleasure in my torture?” Jane asked.
“Oh, hush.” Lisbon brushed Jane’s complaint away. “Not everything is about you.”
“No really, Lisbon?” Jane questioned, sardonically. “I thought we were all gathered in your living room to talk about my obsession with sock drawers.” The entire room fell silent, while Jane continued to grin. “No?”
“You’re ridiculous, Jane.” Grace replied, a light smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re very welcome, Grace.”
“I don’t remember her saying thank you, Jane.” Lisbon corrected him, teasingly. “Does anybody remember Grace saying, thank you?”
“I didn’t hear it.” Cho replied.
“You mean, she didn’t say it with her eyes?”
While Jane and Lisbon continued to bicker, much to the hidden eye rolling from Grace and Cho, Rigsby glanced at each of his friends in appreciation. Tomorrow, he knew he’d have to think about the fire and he’d have to deal with Sarah, but for now, he was content just to listen to his friends talk about anything and everything else.
Eventually, everyone fell silent again and his attention drifted. Where would they stay tomorrow? He still couldn’t impose his presence on any of the team and he didn’t want to approach Sarah for help, as he feared she’d only try to take Ben away. If worse came to worse, he could live in his vehicle for a while and ask someone else to take care of Ben, until he could find something better for the both of them.
Rigsby could hear the soft hum from Lisbon’s air conditioner and he directed his attention to his son, who he could see through the bars of the small crib. Ben slept soundly, a small smile on his face, as he held tight to a large stuffed lion that Grace had brought over.
“Thank you.” Rigsby muttered softly to the team, before he felt Grace’s hand on his arm.
“Lisbon keeps telling me that we’re a family.” Jane commented, motioning toward all of them with his hand. “So, if I’m a part of it, Ben must be a part of it too.” Rigsby stared at Jane, who continued to smile.
“Finally!” Lisbon exclaimed. “The man with the thick skull gets it.”
“I do have common sense, Lisbon.” Jane challenged her, before he glanced back at Rigsby. “One of us, however, does not.” Rigsby bowed his head; he knew exactly where Jane was going. “Do you really think that any of us would let you sleep in your vehicle, Rigsby?” Without glancing up, he knew they were all staring at him and he closed his eyes. “I get yelled at for sleeping in the attic. I can only imagine what Lisbon would do if she found out I was sleeping in my vehicle.” Nobody said anything in response. “And where is Ben going to stay? The glove compartment? The cup holder?” Rigsby felt a hand on his back. “Your son needs you, and you need him, Rigsby. He may not care where he wakes up, but Sarah most certainly will.”
Rigsby’s throat tightened again; if Sarah found out that he and Ben were apart, Sarah would wage a war and he just didn’t have it in him to fight it.
“Let us help you and Ben, Wayne.” Lisbon told him, softly. “It’s what family does.”
He said nothing in response to her comment. Lisbon meant well, he knew, and while he’d show his son a different meaning of the word, family, he still had no idea how to comprehend her definition of family.
“Wayne.” Grace spoke, after a moment of silence. “If my apartment were to catch fire, would you let me live out of my car?” Rigsby brought his eyes up from the floor to stare at her. He couldn’t imagine not offering his home to Grace, especially as they were friends and he still cared about her deeply. In fact, he couldn’t imagine not offering his home to anyone on the unit.
“No, I…”
“Exactly.” Grace interrupted with a small smile. “You wouldn’t let me do it, so we’re not going to let you and Ben leave without offering our places to stay.”
“Or until we offer you our cars.” Jane added in a staged whisper.
Lisbon ignored him. “You can stay here, or with Grace…”
“Or with me.” Cho offered and Rigsby glanced at him. “I don’t have much space, but we’d all manage.”
“Or you can even stay in Jane’s death trap of a car, which I don’t personally suggest.” Lisbon rolled her eyes at the mere suggestion and Rigsby found himself chuckling. “You’re not causing us any problems and unless we’ve secretly been coerced into doing something for a friend, we chose to offer our homes to you.”
Jane nodded. “I’ll even throw in my car keys, so you both will stay cool.” Rigsby caught Jane’s wink. “Just remember to refill my gas tank or…”
“Jane.” Lisbon warned.
“What, Lisbon?” Jane innocently questioned, while Lisbon scowled. “Am I not allowed to be charitable either?”
“Remind me to only offer you my car, after something truly bad happens to you and you need a place to stay.” Lisbon replied, dryly.
“Will do, Lisbon.” Jane continued to grin, before he glanced back at Rigsby. “So, where do you want to stay? You have plenty of options: my car, the CBI, prison…”
“Now, you’re just asking to be punched in the face.”
From next to him, Cho gave a small smirk. “It could be worse, Rigsby; you could always be Jane.” Jane frowned, while everyone else laughed.
I could have lost Ben too, Rigsby reminded himself with a second glance at his sleeping son, but I didn’t. I can always buy a new place, but I can’t replace my son.
Collection: Detriment
Disclaimer: Me? Own The Mentalist? Nope.
Characters: Wayne Rigsby, Benjamin Rigsby, Teresa Lisbon, Patrick Jane, Grace Van Pelt, Kimball Cho and Sarah Harrigan.
Rating: T
Summary: Wordlessly, he turned from the smoldering wreckage of his life and did as she ordered him to.
Spoilers: Seasons 4 & 5.
Cross-posted: fanfiction.net | AO3
I've been wanting to write some team-centric fics for a really long time now, which is what Detriment (for the most part) will be full of. My first fic, Up in Smoke, fills the fire square on my hurt/comfort bingo square. (FYI, hurt/comfort is a new genre for me to play with...so, yay!)
Pressing Benjamin to his chest, Wayne Rigsby stood and watched his apartment building burn; the dark smoke and orange flames billowing high into the starless night sky. Hoarsely, he tried to provide comfort to his wailing son, but his throat felt tight and all he could do was pat the baby on the back. Had it really been only two hours ago since he had settled Benjamin into his wooden crib, after an exhausting day for both father and son?
Ben’s safe, was the single thought that kept Rigsby together, as he pressed his nose into his baby’s soft dark hair and inhaled deeply; the overwhelming smell of baby powder and shampoo greeted his nostrils and he relaxed at the familiarity of his still-crying son. Ben’s alive. While the fire hadn’t touched either of them, the smoke from the floor below had and as Rigsby had hurried them both down the fire escape, he feared for his son and his son’s lungs. He hadn’t cared that he wasn’t wearing shoes, or that the fire escape was grating against his bare feet, and he certainly hadn’t given a second thought to the fact that he had left his gun and badge inside his burning apartment, until his son had been declared fine.
He had no doubt that Sarah would frantically call his cellphone later, after one of her fellow employees told her about the horrific fire at his apartment building, wondering if Ben was okay. He’d tell her yes, let her hear Ben’s soft coos and tell her not to worry about them, but his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t believe him at all. After having died last year, Sarah was still angry with him and he was just lucky she hadn’t petitioned for sole custody of Ben.
But now that he had no place to live, Sarah could be justified in taking their son away; and the mere thought of that, made Rigsby clutch the boy to his chest tighter.
Seventy-two hours ago, he had just lost his father and he didn’t know what he would do without Ben; the sweet baby boy had been his only high point within the past year and Ben was the only reason why he hadn’t drank after he had watched his father die. Rigsby had never wanted to be like his father, who had simply taken to the bottle for every little thing concerning his only son, the same father, who had died without meeting his grandchild because of his drinking and dangerous lifestyle.
He tried to ignore the small voice in his head that told him he was just like his father. Steve Rigsby had only cared about his precious motorcycle and teaching his son how to be a real man, which had torn their entire family apart. Rigsby had, after all, driven Sarah away in his need to be loyal to both his team and to his job. He hadn’t even considered how Sarah would feel at hearing the awful news that her boyfriend, the father of her only child, had died because of a fellow colleague. Blaming Patrick Jane for Sarah’s leaving seemed highly appropriate, but Rigsby was mature enough to admit his mistakes; and he knew he had made many, especially where Sarah was concerned.
Tears pricked at his eyes again, but he refused to shed another tear; he had to remain strong. His sweet and innocent baby boy, who had finally quieted down, didn’t need to know how many demons that his father carried around and how many of those demons weighed upon his shoulders.
Rigsby felt a hand on his upper arm and he turned his head slightly to find Teresa Lisbon next to him. Instead of asking why she was there, he turned his head back to watch his apartment building. The three stood in silence, her hand on his arm and Ben pressed against his chest, until the fire was gone, and there was nothing more to watch.
“Come on, Wayne.” Lisbon finally broke the silence and he glanced at her in question, not trusting his voice. Lisbon scaled him with a look. “You and Ben need somewhere to stay.”
He started to shake his head; he and Ben would find somewhere else to stay, as he refused to impose their presences on Lisbon. Rigsby watched Lisbon’s eyes dart down to the (now) soundly sleeping Ben with a tight frown, and he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“It’s not an offer, Rigsby.” Lisbon stopped him, her voice low. “It’s an order.” He stared at her in surprise, before she motioned for him to follow.
Wordlessly, he turned from the smoldering wreckage of his life and did as she ordered him to.
{+}
“I’m so sorry, Wayne.” Grace Van Pelt said from his right, as the entire Serious Crimes Unit sat gathered in Lisbon’s living room. Rigsby sent her a feeble smile; he hadn’t said more than two words since Lisbon had offered her guest bedroom to them both three hours ago. In a makeshift crib that Cho had borrowed from one of his neighbors, Ben slept soundly feet from the team.
“How did Ben take his first fire alarm?” Jane asked, while he sat next to Lisbon. “Charlotte always hated them as a baby.” Rigsby blinked at Jane. Jane had never once volunteered information about his daughter before, and with a fleeting glance at Lisbon, Rigsby knew Lisbon was just as surprised. “What?”
Instead of answering Jane’s second question, Rigsby cleared his throat. “He was louder than the alarm itself.” Jane cracked a smile, before he leaned back into Lisbon’s couch.
“That’s how it usually works.” Cho replied and Grace nodded in agreement.
“Can you blame him though?” Grace asked. “They might be useful, but they’re also awful.”
Lisbon nodded. “I thought my eardrums were going to burst last month.” She shot Jane a withering glare, to which he continued to smile. “In school, we had fire drills often. I always covered my ears, as the wailing usually provoked a headache.” He heard Jane chuckle. “What are you laughing at, Jane?”
“Firstly, I said I was sorry. I wasn’t trying to set the kitchenette on fire, I only wanted our suspect to admit her guilt-which she did!” Jane told her. “Secondly, I honestly thought you’d be screaming along with it. Or at least screaming, shut up, at it.” Rigsby watched Lisbon elbow Jane in the abdomen. “Now, was that really necessary?”
“Yes,” Lisbon, Cho and Grace replied in unison, which caused Rigsby to smile briefly.
“Why do you all take such great pleasure in my torture?” Jane asked.
“Oh, hush.” Lisbon brushed Jane’s complaint away. “Not everything is about you.”
“No really, Lisbon?” Jane questioned, sardonically. “I thought we were all gathered in your living room to talk about my obsession with sock drawers.” The entire room fell silent, while Jane continued to grin. “No?”
“You’re ridiculous, Jane.” Grace replied, a light smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re very welcome, Grace.”
“I don’t remember her saying thank you, Jane.” Lisbon corrected him, teasingly. “Does anybody remember Grace saying, thank you?”
“I didn’t hear it.” Cho replied.
“You mean, she didn’t say it with her eyes?”
While Jane and Lisbon continued to bicker, much to the hidden eye rolling from Grace and Cho, Rigsby glanced at each of his friends in appreciation. Tomorrow, he knew he’d have to think about the fire and he’d have to deal with Sarah, but for now, he was content just to listen to his friends talk about anything and everything else.
Eventually, everyone fell silent again and his attention drifted. Where would they stay tomorrow? He still couldn’t impose his presence on any of the team and he didn’t want to approach Sarah for help, as he feared she’d only try to take Ben away. If worse came to worse, he could live in his vehicle for a while and ask someone else to take care of Ben, until he could find something better for the both of them.
Rigsby could hear the soft hum from Lisbon’s air conditioner and he directed his attention to his son, who he could see through the bars of the small crib. Ben slept soundly, a small smile on his face, as he held tight to a large stuffed lion that Grace had brought over.
“Thank you.” Rigsby muttered softly to the team, before he felt Grace’s hand on his arm.
“Lisbon keeps telling me that we’re a family.” Jane commented, motioning toward all of them with his hand. “So, if I’m a part of it, Ben must be a part of it too.” Rigsby stared at Jane, who continued to smile.
“Finally!” Lisbon exclaimed. “The man with the thick skull gets it.”
“I do have common sense, Lisbon.” Jane challenged her, before he glanced back at Rigsby. “One of us, however, does not.” Rigsby bowed his head; he knew exactly where Jane was going. “Do you really think that any of us would let you sleep in your vehicle, Rigsby?” Without glancing up, he knew they were all staring at him and he closed his eyes. “I get yelled at for sleeping in the attic. I can only imagine what Lisbon would do if she found out I was sleeping in my vehicle.” Nobody said anything in response. “And where is Ben going to stay? The glove compartment? The cup holder?” Rigsby felt a hand on his back. “Your son needs you, and you need him, Rigsby. He may not care where he wakes up, but Sarah most certainly will.”
Rigsby’s throat tightened again; if Sarah found out that he and Ben were apart, Sarah would wage a war and he just didn’t have it in him to fight it.
“Let us help you and Ben, Wayne.” Lisbon told him, softly. “It’s what family does.”
He said nothing in response to her comment. Lisbon meant well, he knew, and while he’d show his son a different meaning of the word, family, he still had no idea how to comprehend her definition of family.
“Wayne.” Grace spoke, after a moment of silence. “If my apartment were to catch fire, would you let me live out of my car?” Rigsby brought his eyes up from the floor to stare at her. He couldn’t imagine not offering his home to Grace, especially as they were friends and he still cared about her deeply. In fact, he couldn’t imagine not offering his home to anyone on the unit.
“No, I…”
“Exactly.” Grace interrupted with a small smile. “You wouldn’t let me do it, so we’re not going to let you and Ben leave without offering our places to stay.”
“Or until we offer you our cars.” Jane added in a staged whisper.
Lisbon ignored him. “You can stay here, or with Grace…”
“Or with me.” Cho offered and Rigsby glanced at him. “I don’t have much space, but we’d all manage.”
“Or you can even stay in Jane’s death trap of a car, which I don’t personally suggest.” Lisbon rolled her eyes at the mere suggestion and Rigsby found himself chuckling. “You’re not causing us any problems and unless we’ve secretly been coerced into doing something for a friend, we chose to offer our homes to you.”
Jane nodded. “I’ll even throw in my car keys, so you both will stay cool.” Rigsby caught Jane’s wink. “Just remember to refill my gas tank or…”
“Jane.” Lisbon warned.
“What, Lisbon?” Jane innocently questioned, while Lisbon scowled. “Am I not allowed to be charitable either?”
“Remind me to only offer you my car, after something truly bad happens to you and you need a place to stay.” Lisbon replied, dryly.
“Will do, Lisbon.” Jane continued to grin, before he glanced back at Rigsby. “So, where do you want to stay? You have plenty of options: my car, the CBI, prison…”
“Now, you’re just asking to be punched in the face.”
From next to him, Cho gave a small smirk. “It could be worse, Rigsby; you could always be Jane.” Jane frowned, while everyone else laughed.
I could have lost Ben too, Rigsby reminded himself with a second glance at his sleeping son, but I didn’t. I can always buy a new place, but I can’t replace my son.