fic: {The Following/The Mentalist} when you leave the world behind (1/1)
Title: when you leave the world behind
Rating: T
Fandoms(s): The Following/The Mentalist
Disclaimer: I obviously own nothing
Summary: Technically, they all stopped Joe Carroll--and it technically was still their responsibility to right the wrongs.
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Notes:
Filled for H/C Bingo April Challenge - using my square imprisonment. Fun fact about this story: this scene was taken from a larger story that I wrote, but I just really liked this scene and couldn't let it go.
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From the adjoined Havenport Police Department interrogation viewing room, Mike Weston and FBI Special Agent Debra Parker eyed the developing situation with bated breaths. Debra, obviously anticipating the worst from the ongoing interrogation, already had her Glock 22 at the ready.
Mike, on the other hand, only grimaced at yet another Joe Carroll groupie interrogation.
Although Joe Carroll had been dead for almost a year now, the latest Sherriff continued to solicit their assistance on a bi-monthly basis. Following the Havenport Tragedy, it didn’t surprise him that almost everyone wanted his or her fifteen minutes of fame interconnected with the serial killer. Mike knew that if Carroll had still been alive, he more than likely would have enjoyed the displays of grandiosity.
Last month, the display of grandiosity had come in the form of six dead educators. Lifeless carcasses, found by second graders, oscillating from playground tetherball poles; six skulls, deformed beyond possible facial recognition with hollowed eye sockets and mouths sewn shut with fine strands of pubic hair.
This month, however, it was Wendy Rice.
He felt Debra tense next to him, forcing him to brush his shoulder against hers. “Remind me to never have children.” He said nothing as he returned to his silent observation of this month’s display. “Carroll was a man of many unspeakable terrors; but the murder of a child, in his eyes, would be both unforgiveable and unacceptable.”
“It could be a way of appealing to Joe’s narcissism,” Mike commented. “If Carroll is alive, Rice’s fifteen-minutes of fame for baby killing will not go unpunished.” He crossed his arms against his chest, before he spared a glance toward Debra. She nodded.
“Taking both his name and religion in vain,” Debra agreed, muttering. “A good gambit to call him back into the spotlight, even if she were to pay for her transgressions.” Mike shrugged. “Either way, it’s unsettling and creepy.”
The longer Mike observed Wendy, the more he had to agree. Dressed in a bloodstained blue nightgown and humming The Second Star to the Right, the woman of thirty-two had absolutely nothing that separated her from the usual mill of deranged Carroll followers…aside from the bizarre Peter Pan tie-in of the case. He supposed every innocent fictional character had a macabre version of them, but it was still off-putting to see the epitome of childhood innocence killing her own husband and five-year-old daughter to help her own family “never grow up” in the name of Joseph Carroll.
“Wendy, hey,” Mike heard Ryan finally greeted from within the interrogation room. Of course, Carroll’s crazed follower wasn’t the only reason they nervously stood by. Mike watched Ryan casually lean against one of the gritty interrogation room walls, while Wendy followed his every movement with her eyes. He couldn’t help but snort at the interest Wendy expressed toward the man, who had ultimately ended Carroll’s life. “How are the handcuffs holding up, hm? Hope they’re tight enough for you.” Mike grimaced.
For all of their failures and flaws (the continued employment of the previous sheriff, Tim Nelson), the Havenport Police Department did know how to properly detain a murderer. Debra had personally supervised the current Sheriff Rodger Phillips handcuff Rice, as the woman hadn’t gone down without a fight.
“Don’t do this, Ryan,” he heard Debra sigh. Inside the interrogation room, Ryan smiled and crossed his arms against his chest.
“They’re perfect, Ryan. Thank you for asking,” Wendy told him, matching his smile. “Has anyone told you that you bare a remarkable resemblance to Kevin Bacon?” Mike snorted again, causing Debra to elbow him. “It’s uncanny, really.”
Ryan continued to smile. “A few times, I suppose. I hear I just have one of those faces.” Wendy tilted her head slightly. “Anyway, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” Ryan pushed away from the wall, joining Wendy at the table. She kept smiling. “Personally, I’m curious about the deaths of your husband and precious daughter. We’ve been told that we arrested the wrong person, considering your parents, co-workers and neighbors are all in various stages of disbelief.
“However, the forensic evidence doesn’t lie,” Ryan continued. “You tore out the heart of your daughter and forced your husband to eat it, Wendy.” He shook his head. “Now I’ve admittedly never seen Peter Pan, outside of the Disney version, but I’m pretty positive that Peter didn’t force anyone to eat a human heart.”
“It’s all about perception,” Wendy answered, unmoved by Ryan’s narration of her crimes. “No two people see the same thing, something I’m sure you know extremely well.”
He ignored her. “Your assistant manager, Daniel Landers, said you adored that little girl of yours. What changed, Wendy?”
“Daniel’s not my assistant manager,” Wendy said. “He likes to think he is, but none of my employees have been charmed by his lackluster personality.” She shrugged. Mike glanced down at Wendy’s file. She had been the Store Manager of a retail store for nearly ten years, overseeing ten employees who all (aside from one) proclaimed her innocence. He couldn’t help but shake his head, flipping through the pages and pages of character witnesses. “If you had wanted a proper lesson on me, Ryan, you should have asked Jordyn Riker.”
“You mean the one employee of yours, who we couldn’t find?” Ryan questioned. Wendy’s smile slipped, as if she were actually concerned about the abrupt disappearance of an old co-worker. “How convenient, Wendy.”
“Jordyn’s a sweet girl; bit of a recluse, if you ask me though,” Wendy replied. “I hope she’s okay. I honestly haven’t seen her in a week.” Ryan kept his arms crossed against his chest. From Debra’s doubtful expression, Mike knew they all wanted to call Wendy’s story.
“I think you know exactly where Jordyn is and how she is, Wendy,” Ryan said. “Do you want to know what else I think?” Wendy remained quiet. “I think you actually wanted to help her. I asked my buddies to do a little research into Jordyn, and do you know what they found?”
“Sugar and spice and everything nice?”
“They found years of complaints from Social Services. Jordyn was abused, wasn’t she?” Ryan’s question forced Wendy to wince. “Did you attempt to help her, Wendy? Did you think Joe would help you, if you killed your husband and daughter?” He lowered his voice. “Joe Carroll is dead, as I killed him. Just like Jordyn is dead, because you killed her.”
“Think of all the joy you’ll find, when you leave the world behind,” Wendy replied with a cold smile. “My sweet Jordyn found Neverland, as did my daughter.” She paused and Ryan said nothing, twiddling his fingers. “Joe’s not dead, Ryan. He’s very much still alive, waiting until the likes of you are dead.”
“He was blown to kingdom come.”
“You only think he was!” Wendy objected, yanking at her wrists. The chains clattered against the metal table, causing Ryan to stand. “He is immortal, much like the God you believe in.”
“Joe was human, Wendy.”
“No, Ryan. Joe’s a God, and you’re naïve to think anything less.”
“He’s also having a field day with her, isn’t he?” Mike heard Teresa Lisbon’s voice, as she stood behind the both of them. Mike’s smile returned.
“You should have heard the Kevin Bacon comment earlier,” Debra idly commented, rolling her eyes. “I also thought I told you to take the day off, Teresa.” Mike turned from the interrogation window to eye Teresa, who held three cups of coffee. He took two of them from her, only to hand the second one to Debra. “Not provide us with coffee bribes.”
He watched Teresa shrug. “I couldn’t relax…” Her eyes shot to the window. “The coffee was a last minute purchase, so don’t flatter yourselves. What did I miss?”
“Well, still,” Debra gave. “Thanks for the coffee.” Teresa smiled and sipped at her own coffee, before she folded one of her arms against her chest.
“Yeah, thanks,” Mike said.
Debra mirrored Teresa’s actions, before she answered the brunette’s question. “Wendy’s behind Jordyn Riker’s disappearance.”
“Figures,” Teresa muttered.
Mike nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking.” He opened his mouth, when Ryan’s voice had them all staring out into the interrogation room again.
“You nearly killed Agent Lisbon yesterday,” Ryan said, after another moment of silence. “I get it, Wendy. I really do. Your husband was still alive, and you didn’t want her saving him.”
“Oh, don’t overanalyze it,” Wendy snapped at him. “John had to die, for me to keep Stephanie from growing up.” She paused to stare at him, almost wistfully. “My baby was five when she died, Agent. She’s been gifted an eternal youth, something of which she almost didn’t get.” Wendy scowled. “Your Agent Bitch is still alive, isn’t she? I was only aiming to take off a few fingers.” Her lips curled into a smirk, to which Mike gritted his own teeth.
Ryan chuckled. “Agent Lisbon still has nine fingers and ten toes, but hey, nice try there.” Wendy’s smirk faded almost immediately. “If there was an Olympic sport for extremity deduction though, I’m sure you’d take nothing home.” His grin grew. “No offense, Wendy, really; but you actually need to cut off an extremity, before you qualify for anything.”
“Go to hell!” Wendy exclaimed, before she struggled against her restraints. “He would have come back. He would have admired…”
“Your half-assed attempt of finger removal?” Ryan questioned. “I would applaud you for the attempt, but you really suck at it.”
Debra shifted.
“Ryan’s a charmer, isn’t he?” Teresa questioned, dryly.
“I suppose he could have broken her wrist too,” Mike offered and Debra grimaced.
“Because we really want a second inquiry here, whilst we’re restoring Havenport.” Debra paused to shake her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to settle down here. I want to arrest Rice and return back home, until we’re called upon again.” Mike heard her sigh again and he tried to smile apologetically. Technically, they had all stopped Joe Carroll-and it technically was still their responsibility to right the wrongs. “However, we’re all here until the paperwork clears.”
“Amen,” Teresa agreed. “Not toward the paperwork, but the leaving as soon as possible bit.”
Mike spared a second glance toward Teresa, who seemed okay with the decision to stay in Havenport for another few nights. He couldn’t understand how anyone would willingly go from one serial to another, but he supposed it had something to do with her own team. She had only been working with them for six months, but she had already sacrificed one of her index fingers against Joe Carroll. He hadn’t been able to get a story from her, however a quick search on her had revealed that she used to chase Red John; a serial killer, who Mike thought, followed second behind Joe Carroll in severity.
Debra shot him a warning glare, as if almost to say back off.
He took a step backwards. If Teresa noticed, she didn’t say a word.