Desperation [AU one-shot] (for demon_andbutler)
Jane had parted ways with Sebastian some time ago (he'd just never gotten past that whole, "I want your soul" crap). But it wasn't until a recent Red John case that memories of Sebastian's offer rattled to the forefront of his mind.
What if I told you, sir, that I would like to help you accomplish your goal?
It sounded ridiculous on the surface, and rightfully so. If CBI, with all their resources and training couldn't catch Red John; and Jane, with his brains and attention to details couldn't catch Red John-- then why a butler? A butler who can pull cutlery from his sleeves (an easy trick, Jane's done similar before) and fight off hellish beasts. Interesting but not enough on its own...
You say you will do whatever it takes, and I believe I would be a better asset than you realize. I have tracked killers before.
So he had experience. Perhaps this killer would be too much for him, perhaps not. Jane didn't think Red John was more than a match for either of them, especially himself, but knew that there were certain things he just wouldn't be able to accomplish on his own. There were certain trails he'd need to follow that would be outside CBI's purview. Many of them ethically dubious and/or highly illegal. Of course, time was money, and compensation had to be discussed...
Your soul, Mr. Jane.
People didn't have souls. There was no afterlife. Jane had built an entire existence around these facts for years. And even on the remote possibility that souls existed, he'd definitely lost his years ago. But that didn't stop him from haggling over it...
Yes, Mr. Jane, I am a demon.
Fitting, because Red John was evil incarnate. Jane didn't really believe demons existed, or angels for that matter, but in the broadest sense people could be ghoulish or demonic in their behavior and attitudes. Well, as the saying goes, fight fire with fire. And there were precious few options left to pursue. If nothing else, he could use Sebastian's talents (whatever they were) to capture Red John, then do the final killing himself, alone.
So Jane went and found a deserted road, mostly because it seemed poetic, and partly because he wanted to be alone just in case he'd gone off the deep end. The last Red John killings had been so heinous, so indescribably brutal, that sleep was a far-gone memory for not just him but the entire team (Van Pelt had actually thrown up). So he put his hands into his pockets and squinted against the sun, a very light wind blowing dust around his ankles.
"...Sebastian."