FIC: Pretty Lies (1/14)
Title: Pretty Lies
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, Team
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Falling alone is scary. Dragging someone down with you, even moreso.
Spoilers: Up to 2x08 His Red Right Hand
Notes: written for lil smiles in a LiveJournal prompt meme. Prompt: “I’m not worth saving.”
Title and lyrics from “Pretty Lies” from Boy George’s Taboo.
Pretty Lies
Part One - Glitter
A little bit of glitter goes a long, long way,
But if you never see my face,
How do you know if what you feel is real?
Slowly, carefully and without him even realizing what he was doing, his fingers curled around, balling into a fist. He’d been so close, so damn close to Red John this time around. Barely even a hair’s breadth away and still the elusive serial killer managed to slip between the cracks yet again. He focused on the wall, drew his arm back and automatically sent his fist flying into it with a surprising amount of dexterity for someone who shied away from physical exertion. Jane bitterly ignored the loud crack of bone shattering and the sudden, sharp pain that enveloped his digits immediately after they came into contact with the hard surface. Instead, he glared at the wall and the still-damp blood red smiley staring back at him, taunting him with its leering grin.
He barely noticed when Teresa Lisbon came careering around the corner. Her gun was drawn and she was frantic in her urge to catch up the serial killer and more importantly, Jane. The rest of the team hot on her heels, suddenly filling the dusty room with a cacophony of noise. Her voice had grown hoarse from barking orders all day long and were Jane more aware of those around him, he’d have realized that she was close to breaking point.
But he didn’t because he was so close to it himself.
The moment that she knew that the location was safe and secure, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and ordered everyone to stand down while holstering her own gun. Tentatively, she approached Jane, immediately recognizing his expression. He was falling back into his own world, the one where he tortured himself for his short fallings and almost forget that there was anybody in the world that cared for him. Quickly, she held up a hand and dismissed the rest of the team to scour the rest of the cobwebbed building. Nobody, excepting themselves or the killer, had been in this abandoned warehouse for years so she was quietly hopeful that they could find something new. As Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho shuffled around the dead body and out of the room, Lisbon went to place a hand on Jane’s shoulder. Her fingers barely grazed his cotton-mix suit jacket before she jerked her hand away, almost as if she had received an electric shock.
After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, he slowly turned away from the wall and from Red John’s calling card, his symbol, to face Lisbon. He hated the look on her face because he saw it every single time the serial killer went on a killing spree. However genuine her emotions were, he couldn’t cope with her pity as it made the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach all the worse. Whatever she believed, he didn’t deserve her feeling so sorry for him; he had brought all the events leading up to and following the death of his family on himself. Unfortunately, for a woman who was generally a pessimist, she liked to see the best in the people she deigned worthy of it and for some unfathomable reason, he appeared to fit snugly into that category.
“I should have saved Rachel. I should have been here,” he spoke bitterly. “I should have got him.”
“Let me take a look at your hand,” she pleaded, stubbornly ignoring his statements while looking him up and down. Jane glanced away, unable to cope with her penetrating gaze.
He shied away from her despite the fact that her tone was soothing and gentle. Care was one thing he just couldn’t cope with right now. But just as he expected, she was persistent and refused to leave him be. She dragged him outside and sat him down on the bench opposite the warehouse, allowing Cho to look around the room they’d been occupying. With the tender touch of a mother dealing with an injured toddler she took hold of his broken hand, allowing her fingers to skitter over the shattered bones while she tried to work out the severity of the damage. She knew that he’d need to visit a hospital as soon as possible and that persuading him that it would be a wise idea would be a challenge and she was right. Jane was sulking and petulant for the entire trip to the ER. As far as he was concerned, they were wasting time. There were deaths to avenge and they could still catch up with Red John this time around. He could still exact his revenge.
So long ago now, Minelli had remarked that they were getting ‘too close’. At the time, he’d dismissed it as utter nonsense and had only thought of the statement in terms of relating directly to the case, rather than themselves as individuals. Of course he knew Lisbon well, she had rarely caused him problems when it came to reading her and that meant it was relatively easy to keep her at arm’s length. However, as a nurse fussed over his hand, bandaging it tightly, he watched her as she nervously watched him, her hands twisting and turning in her lap at a frenetic rate. Neither of them flinched under the heavy gaze of one another, but it did have Jane thinking. Maybe the old director had had a point. As time progressed, she had been treating him less like a colleague and more a friend. Possibly even something else, even if she wasn’t aware of it herself.
Had the petite brunette really fallen in love with the façade he’d been wearing in order to make it easier for him to face the world?
And if she had, would she love what was simmering underneath the surface all the same?
That was if he could cope with loving someone who wasn’t his wife at all. He knew that he’d be lying to himself if he said he had no feelings whatsoever for Lisbon. It wasn’t as if she was anything special, not really, but somehow she had managed to worm her way underneath his well-crafted exterior without knowing. Somehow, he couldn’t help but think it was safer that way. He’d only hurt her and if he didn’t, he would be placing her directly in Red John’s spotlight, even moreso than she was already considering she was lead agent once more in his investigation.
It was safer for the both of them as long as he remained the loneliest man in the world.
“C’mon,” she muttered, extending a shy hand when the nurse had finished her ministrations. “Let’s get back to work. See if the others have any leads.”
“They won’t have,” he assured her.
With a sigh, she looked into his mournful eyes and Jane couldn’t help but feel guilty for toying with her emotions. But it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t asked her to feel anything for him, other than sheer irritation whenever he made her job more difficult. Still, he nodded and eventually accepted her proffered hand, allowing her to lead him back to the SUV. Even though he was skeptical about her claims for new evidence, new leads, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere better to go. So, as she drove sedately, he remained mute and allowed her to get on with it.
“Boss,” Van Pelt approached her tentatively the moment that they walked into the bullpen. “We have something.”
Lisbon raised an eyebrow at Jane, who shrugged his shoulders at her. Maybe he had been a bit quick to write off Lisbon’s statement at the hospital. But still, it meant that it was something that Red John wanted them to know and therefore they had to tread carefully while unraveling these clues. He pulled up a seat in front of Van Pelt’s desk, immediately offering it to the brunette agent and opted to perch on the corner of her desk instead.
When the rookie played the message she had received to them, Jane couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. And by the looks of it, neither could Lisbon.
They made her play it to them a good dozen times before leaving for the privacy of Lisbon’s office. Van Pelt was unsurprised by their quiet withdrawal; Red John had name-dropped both of them directly, leaving them both rattled. The serial killer knew exactly how to press both their buttons, leaving the younger woman sincerely concerned for the safety of her boss and their consultant. Ever since Bosco’s death and them having the case reassigned to them, she had been concerned that any of them could be Red John’s next target. With a sigh, she shut down her laptop and headed towards the elevator, relieved to be finished for the night. She needed to find Rigsby, to make sure that he knew that she loved him and that if anything happened to him because of their careers, she’d be devastated. Before she pressed the button to close the doors, she glanced in the direction of Lisbon’s office and offered a quick prayer that they would be able to find the right answer to their dilemma.
“What do we do?”
To ask the question, Lisbon lifted her head from the desk, where she had been trying to pretend that this just wasn’t happening. Jane remained expressionless, but knew exactly what he believed they needed to do. The only problem would be persuading her that this was the correct cause of action.
“I go, alone.”
“What? No. You can’t go on your own, Jane.”
“Why not? He said I have to,” he spoke with a firm tone, implying that this was non-negotiable. “It’s not as if I have anything to live for.”
“Don’t ever say that,” she hissed and poked him roughly in the chest. “You have…”
“Just stop it,” he interrupted, “I know what you’re trying to do Saint Teresa, but you need to accept that some people are just lost causes.”
“Jane…”
He held up a hand, cutting her off.
“I’m not worth saving.”
TBC…
To part 2
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, Team
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Falling alone is scary. Dragging someone down with you, even moreso.
Spoilers: Up to 2x08 His Red Right Hand
Notes: written for lil smiles in a LiveJournal prompt meme. Prompt: “I’m not worth saving.”
Title and lyrics from “Pretty Lies” from Boy George’s Taboo.
Pretty Lies
Part One - Glitter
A little bit of glitter goes a long, long way,
But if you never see my face,
How do you know if what you feel is real?
Slowly, carefully and without him even realizing what he was doing, his fingers curled around, balling into a fist. He’d been so close, so damn close to Red John this time around. Barely even a hair’s breadth away and still the elusive serial killer managed to slip between the cracks yet again. He focused on the wall, drew his arm back and automatically sent his fist flying into it with a surprising amount of dexterity for someone who shied away from physical exertion. Jane bitterly ignored the loud crack of bone shattering and the sudden, sharp pain that enveloped his digits immediately after they came into contact with the hard surface. Instead, he glared at the wall and the still-damp blood red smiley staring back at him, taunting him with its leering grin.
He barely noticed when Teresa Lisbon came careering around the corner. Her gun was drawn and she was frantic in her urge to catch up the serial killer and more importantly, Jane. The rest of the team hot on her heels, suddenly filling the dusty room with a cacophony of noise. Her voice had grown hoarse from barking orders all day long and were Jane more aware of those around him, he’d have realized that she was close to breaking point.
But he didn’t because he was so close to it himself.
The moment that she knew that the location was safe and secure, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and ordered everyone to stand down while holstering her own gun. Tentatively, she approached Jane, immediately recognizing his expression. He was falling back into his own world, the one where he tortured himself for his short fallings and almost forget that there was anybody in the world that cared for him. Quickly, she held up a hand and dismissed the rest of the team to scour the rest of the cobwebbed building. Nobody, excepting themselves or the killer, had been in this abandoned warehouse for years so she was quietly hopeful that they could find something new. As Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho shuffled around the dead body and out of the room, Lisbon went to place a hand on Jane’s shoulder. Her fingers barely grazed his cotton-mix suit jacket before she jerked her hand away, almost as if she had received an electric shock.
After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, he slowly turned away from the wall and from Red John’s calling card, his symbol, to face Lisbon. He hated the look on her face because he saw it every single time the serial killer went on a killing spree. However genuine her emotions were, he couldn’t cope with her pity as it made the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach all the worse. Whatever she believed, he didn’t deserve her feeling so sorry for him; he had brought all the events leading up to and following the death of his family on himself. Unfortunately, for a woman who was generally a pessimist, she liked to see the best in the people she deigned worthy of it and for some unfathomable reason, he appeared to fit snugly into that category.
“I should have saved Rachel. I should have been here,” he spoke bitterly. “I should have got him.”
“Let me take a look at your hand,” she pleaded, stubbornly ignoring his statements while looking him up and down. Jane glanced away, unable to cope with her penetrating gaze.
He shied away from her despite the fact that her tone was soothing and gentle. Care was one thing he just couldn’t cope with right now. But just as he expected, she was persistent and refused to leave him be. She dragged him outside and sat him down on the bench opposite the warehouse, allowing Cho to look around the room they’d been occupying. With the tender touch of a mother dealing with an injured toddler she took hold of his broken hand, allowing her fingers to skitter over the shattered bones while she tried to work out the severity of the damage. She knew that he’d need to visit a hospital as soon as possible and that persuading him that it would be a wise idea would be a challenge and she was right. Jane was sulking and petulant for the entire trip to the ER. As far as he was concerned, they were wasting time. There were deaths to avenge and they could still catch up with Red John this time around. He could still exact his revenge.
So long ago now, Minelli had remarked that they were getting ‘too close’. At the time, he’d dismissed it as utter nonsense and had only thought of the statement in terms of relating directly to the case, rather than themselves as individuals. Of course he knew Lisbon well, she had rarely caused him problems when it came to reading her and that meant it was relatively easy to keep her at arm’s length. However, as a nurse fussed over his hand, bandaging it tightly, he watched her as she nervously watched him, her hands twisting and turning in her lap at a frenetic rate. Neither of them flinched under the heavy gaze of one another, but it did have Jane thinking. Maybe the old director had had a point. As time progressed, she had been treating him less like a colleague and more a friend. Possibly even something else, even if she wasn’t aware of it herself.
Had the petite brunette really fallen in love with the façade he’d been wearing in order to make it easier for him to face the world?
And if she had, would she love what was simmering underneath the surface all the same?
That was if he could cope with loving someone who wasn’t his wife at all. He knew that he’d be lying to himself if he said he had no feelings whatsoever for Lisbon. It wasn’t as if she was anything special, not really, but somehow she had managed to worm her way underneath his well-crafted exterior without knowing. Somehow, he couldn’t help but think it was safer that way. He’d only hurt her and if he didn’t, he would be placing her directly in Red John’s spotlight, even moreso than she was already considering she was lead agent once more in his investigation.
It was safer for the both of them as long as he remained the loneliest man in the world.
“C’mon,” she muttered, extending a shy hand when the nurse had finished her ministrations. “Let’s get back to work. See if the others have any leads.”
“They won’t have,” he assured her.
With a sigh, she looked into his mournful eyes and Jane couldn’t help but feel guilty for toying with her emotions. But it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t asked her to feel anything for him, other than sheer irritation whenever he made her job more difficult. Still, he nodded and eventually accepted her proffered hand, allowing her to lead him back to the SUV. Even though he was skeptical about her claims for new evidence, new leads, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere better to go. So, as she drove sedately, he remained mute and allowed her to get on with it.
“Boss,” Van Pelt approached her tentatively the moment that they walked into the bullpen. “We have something.”
Lisbon raised an eyebrow at Jane, who shrugged his shoulders at her. Maybe he had been a bit quick to write off Lisbon’s statement at the hospital. But still, it meant that it was something that Red John wanted them to know and therefore they had to tread carefully while unraveling these clues. He pulled up a seat in front of Van Pelt’s desk, immediately offering it to the brunette agent and opted to perch on the corner of her desk instead.
When the rookie played the message she had received to them, Jane couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. And by the looks of it, neither could Lisbon.
They made her play it to them a good dozen times before leaving for the privacy of Lisbon’s office. Van Pelt was unsurprised by their quiet withdrawal; Red John had name-dropped both of them directly, leaving them both rattled. The serial killer knew exactly how to press both their buttons, leaving the younger woman sincerely concerned for the safety of her boss and their consultant. Ever since Bosco’s death and them having the case reassigned to them, she had been concerned that any of them could be Red John’s next target. With a sigh, she shut down her laptop and headed towards the elevator, relieved to be finished for the night. She needed to find Rigsby, to make sure that he knew that she loved him and that if anything happened to him because of their careers, she’d be devastated. Before she pressed the button to close the doors, she glanced in the direction of Lisbon’s office and offered a quick prayer that they would be able to find the right answer to their dilemma.
“What do we do?”
To ask the question, Lisbon lifted her head from the desk, where she had been trying to pretend that this just wasn’t happening. Jane remained expressionless, but knew exactly what he believed they needed to do. The only problem would be persuading her that this was the correct cause of action.
“I go, alone.”
“What? No. You can’t go on your own, Jane.”
“Why not? He said I have to,” he spoke with a firm tone, implying that this was non-negotiable. “It’s not as if I have anything to live for.”
“Don’t ever say that,” she hissed and poked him roughly in the chest. “You have…”
“Just stop it,” he interrupted, “I know what you’re trying to do Saint Teresa, but you need to accept that some people are just lost causes.”
“Jane…”
He held up a hand, cutting her off.
“I’m not worth saving.”
TBC…
To part 2