FIC: Red Rising (1/1)
Title: Red Rising
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Red John (implied Jane/Lisbon)
Summary: The smiley on the wall was Red John’s gift to the world, and an apology.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: 1.23 Red John’s Footsteps
Notes: Jello-Forever September '09 challenge not-entry. Theme: smile
Red Rising
He was angry, angry that his teacher could think so little of all the effort he had put into his homework. It was the same each and every time it came back, a reddened scrawl defiling his creation and filling him with sadness. Everyone else seemed to get happy ticks, red stars and positive phrases but him, none of that. Just anger and vitriol.
So he took matters into his own hands.
It was easy enough to get hold of a red pen of a similar style to the teacher. His homework stacked up, he laboriously marked each and every one with a little red smiley. Four pen marks on each and it was done. Two eyes, a smiling mouth and a sweeping circle to enclose the face. A little stab of happiness in the darkness of each and every piece.
When his Mom called up to ask if he was okay, he replied that he was absolutely fine.
***
The first time he killed, it had been a pure accident. They were in the kitchen and she just threw herself at him. Her ruby red lips had just been all over him and frankly, he was terrified. He grabbed the first thing he could find behind him to try and push her away from him. The knife plunged into her chest several times and she collapsed at his feet.
All he could do was watch in horror as her blood pooled at his feet and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Shaking, he fell back into his old habits. He couldn’t touch her blood directly, it was tainted and could infect him. Instead, he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the kitchen drawer and daubed a face on the first wall anyone would see as they walked into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief. A little shred of happiness in a room that was tainted by something so wrong.
He told himself it would cheer up anyone else who saw it, too.
***
By the third time he killed, his mindset began to change. He realised that he wasn’t just doing this to protect himself, but was providing a service to humanity. Women, unlike men, were forgiven so readily simply because of their gender. People thought that they couldn’t commit heinous crimes, and that was where others were so woefully naïve. The deaths of his previous two girlfriends had been… regretful. But the second had killed their unborn child without even consulting him, so how was he expected to keep that boiling rage in check? And as for the third woman felled by his knife, well, she had aided her in doing so. Together, they had destroyed a life without even giving it a chance to blossom.
That had been the closest he had come to being caught by the law. He still remembered the woman who had questioned him. A pretty, young thing. Petite, slender, with sharp, green eyes. Would have been his type if she wasn’t as bad as the women he now targeted. One day, he would bring her to justice. One day, but not now.
The day he first came across that pretty cop, an Agent Lisbon apparently, was the day he was introduced to his moniker. Red John was what the media had decided he was to be labelled, and he decided that he approved. It was nicely ambiguous, simple. He was a man of simple pleasures and simple motives. It worked.
***
It had been necessary to break his MO, in that case. It had surprised him as he watched that sleazy chat show in an equally dingy motel room, that he had finally earned himself a true nemesis. Red John knew that the CBI were still on his tail, but they were so inept, even with the feisty little lady cop on their side, that they could hardly count.
In a way, they deserved it too. Mrs and Miss Jane had been tainted. Miss Jane was his spawn, and would no doubt have grown up to be just as devilish as the father she looked so much like. How could she have had the right to survive when his own child hadn’t even had the right to be born? And as for Mrs Jane, her womb had been soiled by his seed and her mind polluted with his games. She would be more than happy to go around extolling the virtues of her husband. It was like a virus, a cancer. And Red John knew he just had to put a stop to it before it went too far.
The smiley on the wall was Red John’s gift to the world and an apology. He was genuinely sorry that it had come to this. He didn’t want to intervene, but he knew that he had to. But he had done it for a reason; the world was a safer place without the Jane women and it tied Mr. Jane down and reminded him that he, too, was only human.
***
Red John knew he was a lone ranger. Though several people thought they knew him, really they were just pawns in his games. Necessary to bring about justice where the world was woefully blind.
Apart from Rosalind Harker. Meeting her had been a beautiful moment of serendipity. He’d become enchanted by the way her auburn hair flowed down her back and her unseeing eyes saw nothing, yet seeing hands saw everything. She didn’t see the murderer the press and police saw, she knew him for the good man he was. She didn’t need sight to be able to tell he was firm, but fair. They brought a shred of light into each other’s dark existences.
Though he knew she would never be able to see it, he marked her bedroom wall. She deserved the protection of his signature, more than anyone. While he was away, Red John felt comforted to know that it looked down on his beautiful angel as she slept. A protective talisman to keep away the demons from the most sincere, honest and good woman he had ever known.
***
Several years and several murders later, it amused him somewhat to find out that two of his intended targets were working together. Separate, they were dangerous for their own unique reasons, but together? That was troubling. Mr. Jane had obviously not learned his lesson, which was saddening. Little Miss Lisbon would say she was only doing her job but of course, Red John knew there was more to it than that.
The problem wasn’t that they were working together per se, more the fact that it was blindingly obvious that their emotions ran deeper than that. He allowed his fingertips to run gently over a blurred photograph of the pair, while his eyes remained firmly fixed on the footage running in front of him. He stared at her with such intensity that it appeared he was trying to bore into her very soul and the half-smile traced across her lips suggested that she knew and approved of it.
Later, he found himself in bed with his beloved. As always, she managed to distract him from his troubled thoughts. His eyes were drawn upwards as dear, sweet Rosalind slept. The marker pen smiley gazed down protectively at them. Red John knew it would hurt the sweet girl curled up in his arms, but he had to save the world from Lisbon and Jane, before it was too late. Rosalind’s emotions were a tiny drop of water in the sea, when you looked at it closely.
***
Red John is still playing his cat and mouse games with Lisbon and Jane. As he suspected, they are proving more difficult to ensnare than he originally thought. Apart, he knows he can run rings around them, but together, they are worthy challengers.
But that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to indulge in distractions if he finds it necessary. Though he has one eye focussed on his two targets, he has the other firmly fixed on the bigger picture.
So, if you open a door and see that macabre red smile leering back down at you, he’d like you to remember one thing: it isn’t there because he wants it to be there. It’s because he is saving the world and needs you, too, to realise there is more complex reasons for everything that occurs.
end
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Red John (implied Jane/Lisbon)
Summary: The smiley on the wall was Red John’s gift to the world, and an apology.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: 1.23 Red John’s Footsteps
Notes: Jello-Forever September '09 challenge not-entry. Theme: smile
Red Rising
He was angry, angry that his teacher could think so little of all the effort he had put into his homework. It was the same each and every time it came back, a reddened scrawl defiling his creation and filling him with sadness. Everyone else seemed to get happy ticks, red stars and positive phrases but him, none of that. Just anger and vitriol.
So he took matters into his own hands.
It was easy enough to get hold of a red pen of a similar style to the teacher. His homework stacked up, he laboriously marked each and every one with a little red smiley. Four pen marks on each and it was done. Two eyes, a smiling mouth and a sweeping circle to enclose the face. A little stab of happiness in the darkness of each and every piece.
When his Mom called up to ask if he was okay, he replied that he was absolutely fine.
***
The first time he killed, it had been a pure accident. They were in the kitchen and she just threw herself at him. Her ruby red lips had just been all over him and frankly, he was terrified. He grabbed the first thing he could find behind him to try and push her away from him. The knife plunged into her chest several times and she collapsed at his feet.
All he could do was watch in horror as her blood pooled at his feet and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Shaking, he fell back into his old habits. He couldn’t touch her blood directly, it was tainted and could infect him. Instead, he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the kitchen drawer and daubed a face on the first wall anyone would see as they walked into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief. A little shred of happiness in a room that was tainted by something so wrong.
He told himself it would cheer up anyone else who saw it, too.
***
By the third time he killed, his mindset began to change. He realised that he wasn’t just doing this to protect himself, but was providing a service to humanity. Women, unlike men, were forgiven so readily simply because of their gender. People thought that they couldn’t commit heinous crimes, and that was where others were so woefully naïve. The deaths of his previous two girlfriends had been… regretful. But the second had killed their unborn child without even consulting him, so how was he expected to keep that boiling rage in check? And as for the third woman felled by his knife, well, she had aided her in doing so. Together, they had destroyed a life without even giving it a chance to blossom.
That had been the closest he had come to being caught by the law. He still remembered the woman who had questioned him. A pretty, young thing. Petite, slender, with sharp, green eyes. Would have been his type if she wasn’t as bad as the women he now targeted. One day, he would bring her to justice. One day, but not now.
The day he first came across that pretty cop, an Agent Lisbon apparently, was the day he was introduced to his moniker. Red John was what the media had decided he was to be labelled, and he decided that he approved. It was nicely ambiguous, simple. He was a man of simple pleasures and simple motives. It worked.
***
It had been necessary to break his MO, in that case. It had surprised him as he watched that sleazy chat show in an equally dingy motel room, that he had finally earned himself a true nemesis. Red John knew that the CBI were still on his tail, but they were so inept, even with the feisty little lady cop on their side, that they could hardly count.
In a way, they deserved it too. Mrs and Miss Jane had been tainted. Miss Jane was his spawn, and would no doubt have grown up to be just as devilish as the father she looked so much like. How could she have had the right to survive when his own child hadn’t even had the right to be born? And as for Mrs Jane, her womb had been soiled by his seed and her mind polluted with his games. She would be more than happy to go around extolling the virtues of her husband. It was like a virus, a cancer. And Red John knew he just had to put a stop to it before it went too far.
The smiley on the wall was Red John’s gift to the world and an apology. He was genuinely sorry that it had come to this. He didn’t want to intervene, but he knew that he had to. But he had done it for a reason; the world was a safer place without the Jane women and it tied Mr. Jane down and reminded him that he, too, was only human.
***
Red John knew he was a lone ranger. Though several people thought they knew him, really they were just pawns in his games. Necessary to bring about justice where the world was woefully blind.
Apart from Rosalind Harker. Meeting her had been a beautiful moment of serendipity. He’d become enchanted by the way her auburn hair flowed down her back and her unseeing eyes saw nothing, yet seeing hands saw everything. She didn’t see the murderer the press and police saw, she knew him for the good man he was. She didn’t need sight to be able to tell he was firm, but fair. They brought a shred of light into each other’s dark existences.
Though he knew she would never be able to see it, he marked her bedroom wall. She deserved the protection of his signature, more than anyone. While he was away, Red John felt comforted to know that it looked down on his beautiful angel as she slept. A protective talisman to keep away the demons from the most sincere, honest and good woman he had ever known.
***
Several years and several murders later, it amused him somewhat to find out that two of his intended targets were working together. Separate, they were dangerous for their own unique reasons, but together? That was troubling. Mr. Jane had obviously not learned his lesson, which was saddening. Little Miss Lisbon would say she was only doing her job but of course, Red John knew there was more to it than that.
The problem wasn’t that they were working together per se, more the fact that it was blindingly obvious that their emotions ran deeper than that. He allowed his fingertips to run gently over a blurred photograph of the pair, while his eyes remained firmly fixed on the footage running in front of him. He stared at her with such intensity that it appeared he was trying to bore into her very soul and the half-smile traced across her lips suggested that she knew and approved of it.
Later, he found himself in bed with his beloved. As always, she managed to distract him from his troubled thoughts. His eyes were drawn upwards as dear, sweet Rosalind slept. The marker pen smiley gazed down protectively at them. Red John knew it would hurt the sweet girl curled up in his arms, but he had to save the world from Lisbon and Jane, before it was too late. Rosalind’s emotions were a tiny drop of water in the sea, when you looked at it closely.
***
Red John is still playing his cat and mouse games with Lisbon and Jane. As he suspected, they are proving more difficult to ensnare than he originally thought. Apart, he knows he can run rings around them, but together, they are worthy challengers.
But that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to indulge in distractions if he finds it necessary. Though he has one eye focussed on his two targets, he has the other firmly fixed on the bigger picture.
So, if you open a door and see that macabre red smile leering back down at you, he’d like you to remember one thing: it isn’t there because he wants it to be there. It’s because he is saving the world and needs you, too, to realise there is more complex reasons for everything that occurs.
end