[the Mentalist, Big Bang fan-fic] Red Hair Black Heart - Chapter 4
[Porlogue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter two.Five] [Chapter Three]
Chapter Four
“There’s no time for this! Either we made them forget they have been here and have seen us, or we just show them! We don’t have the luxury of staying here sucking our thumbs like children!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I think you may be right, Daimon. Be prepared” Strange says, closing his eyes and murmuring some words she can’t understand, words no one can understand, and light, warm and delicate, engulfs them, blinding them and when they see once again, it’s not in Jane’s motel room they are, but, in matter of seconds, they ended up… they don’t know exactly where they are. The CBI team just looks around themselves, unsettled, seeing the place but not feeling it, hearing things but unable to communicate with who’s there. And he place is pretty crowded.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Where the hell…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“This is where everything started, Miss Lisbon, this is the beginning of the story, the story of Red John” Daimon says, guiding them across the place, walking through the walls like they weren’t real, and when she skims over the supposed cold stone of the lair, Lisbon understands they are, somehow, not. “This is just an illusion, Miss Lisbon, Stephen is merely showing you what happened over 20 years ago, our biggest fault and why, with out own stupidity, we cursed our world, dooming it to destruction.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He keeps walking, and she follows him, Jane at her back, like he could be the one needing protection, and not physically (he knows, it will be his soul that will have to heal thanks to her this time around). They walk, across the old room, like the basement of some extremely old building, some mansion, maybe, crowded by people dressed like priests and nouns, red and black all over the place, praying in front of a boy, not even a teenager yet, reddish hair, and those eyes, Jane freezes when he sees them, remembering them like it happened few instants before. Red John’s eyes… the boy is Red John. And then… then, in an hurry, there’s an alarm, someone screams, and everybody is trying to escape, one of the high priests try in the confusion to take the child with him, but the boy falls, and then, just like that, here they are; they are twenty years younger, but there’s no doubts in any of them, both Lisbon and Jane know that the three they are looking at are Hellstorm, Strange and Johnny. Jane is probably the one more affected, Johnny still the same teenager he left behind all those years back in this sort of vision.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Where are we… I mean… where….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“This is Las Vegas, the Sin City, and the place… “ Stephen starts, eyes focused on the soil, clearly ashamed. “it’s hard to explain, but you see, there was a man, named Sebastian Shaw, he was part of an elite, member of a cult, the Hellfire Club was called. You may have heard of it. In the Old England…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“In the Old England it gave depraved and sinners and followers of the devil a place where they could find themselves among their equals.” Van Pelt interrupts him, shivering, like out of fear. There’s something in her eyes, Jane notices, it’s like… like she isn’t seeing this place for the first time, like she is walking through a memory of her own, one she isn’t comfortable with, one she is scared of.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, Sebastian Shaw, he was the descendant of one of those powerful and depraved individuals, and decided to bring back to his old glory the club, and to do so, he started with transporting his birth home from Wales to the world capital of damnation. Once in Vegas, he recruited as many individuals like him as possible, and together they tried to come back into Satan’s graces. But they were merely human, not a conduit of power, and the devil wasn’t answering them. Not until they offered him something… a virgin woman. Her name was Nadine Carter, and in her veins run the blood of killers and prostitutes and criminals. He accepted the offering, and fathered a child with her, half human, half devil, born to bring destruction upon this world… Timothy Carter.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“That’s Red John’s real name, Timothy Carter” Jane simply states, trying to skim over the image of the scared boy. He looked almost innocent, and not a freak, a monster, someone born to be a destroyer, who turned exactly into such.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> “Man, he seems… he is just a scared little boy… how is it possible for someone like that, turning into such a monster?” Rigsby, dear old teddy bear, Jane wonders if he is the mind-reader, sometimes, always telling people what they are probably thinking, even when they’ll be upset by it, and he doesn’t keep his mouth shout because he doesn’t get it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“We did it, we turned him into a monster. And we did it by allowing him to live.” Daimon closes his eyes, and clenches his fists, firmly, so firmly his fingernails leave angry red mark in his palms, and in front of them… in front of the CBI, the visions… they see, with a gasp of horror, Johnny turning into the Rider, Hellstorm wielding a trident of some unknown energy, and Stephen mastering some form of power through an artifact, and they see them, fighting their way to the child, until the poor boy is on the ground, helpless, everybody around him trying to escape and not caring about him at all. And Daimon, in front of him, trident lifted into the air, ready to hit the child, stopped only by Strange’s sudden intervention, shaking his head, no.
“If we allow him to live, you know what it will be, you know what he’ll turn into!”
“Are you, of all, trying to tell me you don’t know the difference between nature versus nurture? I thought you were a better man, Daimon Hellstorm…” mso-ansi-language:EN-US">the Rider looks at the child for an instant, then turns to look at them, not saying a word, not mentioning sins or faults or any other thing, and walks away, in direction of the adults, the real sinners in his eyes, without further ado. “as you may see, even the Angel of Vengeance agrees with me. allow me to raise the child as my own, allow me to teach him about power and responsibility. I beg you, Daimon Hellstorm, listen to my pray, and spare this child, an innocent soul into this madness.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Vision-Daimon turns and walks away, as the trident vanishes like in thin air. “There’s only so much you can do, Strange. The blood isn’t water, and sooner or later, you’ll understand it’s even truer when it’s about the devil’s child you are talking about”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And just like that, everything goes blank around them, and they find themselves yet again into Jane’s motel room, Strange in front of them, keeping up with the explanations. “I took him with me, hoping that I could… drive him to his highs, make him better, but I was wrong. Timothy never saw me as a mentor or a father… he knew who his real father was, and worshipped him, in secret. I tried to make him forget, going against everything I’ve always believed in. I brainwashed the child, but… I assume his father had a hold on him stronger than we all expected, and when Tim understood what I had done to him, he escaped to reunite to his blood family, and worship it as only a devil’s child could do. And to do so, he thinks there’s one way and one way only…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Light engulfs them again, just to turn into solid in front of them, taking the form of some sigil, the “alchemic circle” of the fables. Only, this one stands over a map, a map where many of the Red John murders are indicated by a pulsing and stronger light, a small fire that unite everything, a circle where just a point is missing to end it all.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I know those places. Those are few of the locations where Red John...” he moves closer, Patrick Jane, and skims over the drawing of energy making it shudder, disappear and reappear. His voice is broken, low, his eyes cold and distant. He gulps, and somehow, he knows, somehow they all know it. It’s the end, the final battle, them or Red John. “But I don’t understand… my family’s murder, it’s not indicated in the map, why? We know it was him, we know it wasn’t one of his friends, we know….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Not all of his killings have found their rightful place here, mister Jane, because not all the actions of the one you call Red John hide the same meaning. Many of the victims fallen because of his hand, they were merely meant to distract you, they were meant to drive us to the conclusion a simple and human serial killer was behind all of this, when there is nothing more distant from the truth…” he lowers his head, the good doctor, because he is somehow ashamed of what he is saying, feeling like every single one of those deaths were his fault, because he knows that they are, and because he doesn’t want to… doesn’t want to degrade the other fallen ones, they don’t deserve it. Their fate has been bad enough, peace and respect it’s the least they deserve now that they are no more.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I don’t understand, what are you trying to tell us? That there is more than one Red John? Is that what you mean, that we are not dealing with one serial killer but more working on tandem?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“No, agent Lisbon, what my friend here is trying to tell you, is that you are not dealing with just an half-devil, but with his maniac followers as well.” Daimon grins, and there’s something… like dark humor hidden behind it. Jane can’t help but shiver, wondering why is that, what the man is hiding. Because he knows- there’s more than it meets the eye with this group of individuals, more than what they are allowing him and the team to see. There is some dark, deep secret involved, something both Daimon Hellstorm and Strange known but are not sharing.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Listen, I know that he is bad, but, seriously, the Devil? Doesn’t psychopathic fit more the job description? Do you seriously think we are going to buy that?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“With all due respect, Rigsby, but you are seeing what they are doing, and I saw what HE did to LaRoche when the big, bad, bald boss in charge tried to put one in my brain. I don’t know about God, but there’s definitely the devil himself involved here.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You believe?” Jane just nods in silence, and Rigsby turns to face Cho, a look of disbelief and a crazy laugh printed on his face, like he couldn’t believe himself that Jane could have said something like that. “Man, he believes, that’s pretty bad, uh?” he turns, and face the sorcerers. “how bad it is?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“… Like I was saying before you interrupted me so rudely, the one you knew as Red John, known to the mortal souls like Timothy Carter….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Aka the guy I tried and failed to murder at the mall…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, him, Mister Jane, anyway” Strange pinches the bridge of his nose, a migraine coming. He wonders if, having to deal with this on a daily basis, Agent Lisbon as well feels this way. “Mister Carter is the son of Satan himself, born from a mortal woman and infused with Hell’s essence since before he walked the world. But the devil has many children walking the Earth, and as you can very well imagine, he doesn’t provide them with love and affection…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Like Kristina Frey told. That’s why he hurt her, because she knew the truth, had red right through him….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“He didn’t hurt her, he just… he separated her body from her soul, turning her into a sort of Golem. That’s why you were able to talk with her spirit. Because she was dead, in a certain sense, and used her own body as a means of transmission. Even if she didn’t realize it back then.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But I’m not a psych, how could have done that since I don’t have any kind of powers? Because I don’t have powers, right?” maybe, just maybe, psychs do exist. And maybe, just maybe, he is been one of them all along without even knowing it. Right now, Patrick Jane is ready to accept every possibility, this one included. And it shows how desperate he is, how his own worlds has been turned upside down.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, you spoke with her because she wanted to talk with you. Psychs as you folks imagine them doesn’t exist. There is no such a thing. Everybody can talk with Ghosts, because it’s the ghost that decides if talking or not, if making any contact or staying wherever they are… people doesn’t usually listen to them because they just can’t bother with losing the time or putting their faith in something, that’s all.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, Ok, you two, we are all glad Jane’s theory there is not such a thing as psychs has finally been proved right, but, could we please go on? I reckon Doctor Strange was going to say something important…. And I’d like to hear it before tomorrow, pretty please, if you don’t mind.” Lisbon hisses. And glares, actually glares, closed fists. That’s how much she is irritated. Irritated and, yes, scared, because she may think Jane isn’t making any attention to his surroundings, but he does, and he saw her, holding like for dear life her cross whenever she thought he wasn’t paying attention.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He’d smile, because it’s kind of funny how she still feels kind of ashamed of every reaction she has when around him, because she always has to feel in control and strong whenever he is around, keeping in place her mask of “private stays private” and utterly professional cop. He’d smile, really, if he wasn’t so worried and shocked right now about the last few days’ events.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, yes, of course, you see, Red John, whose father called him Blackheart, is trying to get Satan’s attention, and to do so, he needs to open the gates of Hell, bringing the End of Days…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“So, all this death, all these murders, they are what, a ritual to get daddy’s attention?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, Miss… Van Pelt, right? Yes, they are indeed a ritual. What Blackheart is trying to accomplish, is opening up the gates of Hell by forming the Sigil of Ishbar, the capitol of a long, lost world in another dimension where the door that brings to the truth that alchemy hides was in every human being who had ever existed…. “
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“So, you know where he will hit next?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Of course we do, Miss van Pelt. And we know even when…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yeah, well, sorry to interrupt you, man, but…” Before Strange could move further on with the planning and the information he and his allies gathered, Rigsby stops him, half-turned towards the man still in the corner, shaking like a frightened little child, their (former?) boss, LaRoche, one of the main characters in the huge conspiracy drawn by Red John’s expert hands over the years. “Shouldn’t we think first about LaRoche as well? I mean, we can’t leave him here, someone will start looking for the guy, and with due respect, we can’t go in a tribunal telling them that the info to get Red John came from a couple of sorcerers and a biker. Unless we don’t want to end up in some kind of asylum with a nice white shirt…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“He is right.” Cho simply states, calmly, almost cold, and Strange almost smile, hiding it at the last minute behind his teeth, finding quite funny how this Asiatic could look like, at least in behavior, to the one Strange himself knows.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He has a point, though, they all know it, because one thing is following a Jane hunch, another one this one. this is too important, this is too big. And besides, they can’t allow LaRoche to walk, not after the betrayal, not after he almost killed one of his own, not after he had a part in framing Hightower and made everything to stop them form finding out the truth about the bloody killer. The truth, or even just a clue.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Strange closes his eyes, a finger to his lips, deep lines appearing on his forehead out of concentration, turning sideway to be face at face with Daimon, who’s mirroring the sorcerer’s expression, the two of them so caught with each other, lost in their own discussion, to not even notice the others staring at them, the worlds going on. “Well, there was a spell of illumination of the Eye of Agamotto, inside the book of Vishanti, I think it was page 452…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> “Yes, of course, it could give him his mind back, but it’s still hard to say what he could deny or admitting, unless we conjure it with a version of the Crimson band of Cyttorak, the one in the Book of Ancient Scrolls… modifying it to bound the will instead of the body, though… maybe adding a bit of the girl’s magic dust in the process, to give him some ideas about what he should or shouldn’t say.”
“I’m normally against mind manipulation, and a long time ago, when I first started abusing my powers, that was the only obstacles I’ve always refused to jump. BUT… this man is quite dangerous, and I fear his mind and soul are no longer with us, ready to accept peace and salvation, and would he come back, I fear for the ones who will cross his path. No, he has to pay for his wrongs, so this once I’ll allow this plan to move further on, and I’ll personally give Megan instructions to provide this man with the necessaries information….” He turns towards the others, smirking a little. “Tell me, my friends, do you have something planned for the evening of the day after tomorrow? For the planets are going to be in favor of everyone…”
Chapter Four
“There’s no time for this! Either we made them forget they have been here and have seen us, or we just show them! We don’t have the luxury of staying here sucking our thumbs like children!”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I think you may be right, Daimon. Be prepared” Strange says, closing his eyes and murmuring some words she can’t understand, words no one can understand, and light, warm and delicate, engulfs them, blinding them and when they see once again, it’s not in Jane’s motel room they are, but, in matter of seconds, they ended up… they don’t know exactly where they are. The CBI team just looks around themselves, unsettled, seeing the place but not feeling it, hearing things but unable to communicate with who’s there. And he place is pretty crowded.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Where the hell…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“This is where everything started, Miss Lisbon, this is the beginning of the story, the story of Red John” Daimon says, guiding them across the place, walking through the walls like they weren’t real, and when she skims over the supposed cold stone of the lair, Lisbon understands they are, somehow, not. “This is just an illusion, Miss Lisbon, Stephen is merely showing you what happened over 20 years ago, our biggest fault and why, with out own stupidity, we cursed our world, dooming it to destruction.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He keeps walking, and she follows him, Jane at her back, like he could be the one needing protection, and not physically (he knows, it will be his soul that will have to heal thanks to her this time around). They walk, across the old room, like the basement of some extremely old building, some mansion, maybe, crowded by people dressed like priests and nouns, red and black all over the place, praying in front of a boy, not even a teenager yet, reddish hair, and those eyes, Jane freezes when he sees them, remembering them like it happened few instants before. Red John’s eyes… the boy is Red John. And then… then, in an hurry, there’s an alarm, someone screams, and everybody is trying to escape, one of the high priests try in the confusion to take the child with him, but the boy falls, and then, just like that, here they are; they are twenty years younger, but there’s no doubts in any of them, both Lisbon and Jane know that the three they are looking at are Hellstorm, Strange and Johnny. Jane is probably the one more affected, Johnny still the same teenager he left behind all those years back in this sort of vision.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Where are we… I mean… where….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“This is Las Vegas, the Sin City, and the place… “ Stephen starts, eyes focused on the soil, clearly ashamed. “it’s hard to explain, but you see, there was a man, named Sebastian Shaw, he was part of an elite, member of a cult, the Hellfire Club was called. You may have heard of it. In the Old England…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“In the Old England it gave depraved and sinners and followers of the devil a place where they could find themselves among their equals.” Van Pelt interrupts him, shivering, like out of fear. There’s something in her eyes, Jane notices, it’s like… like she isn’t seeing this place for the first time, like she is walking through a memory of her own, one she isn’t comfortable with, one she is scared of.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, Sebastian Shaw, he was the descendant of one of those powerful and depraved individuals, and decided to bring back to his old glory the club, and to do so, he started with transporting his birth home from Wales to the world capital of damnation. Once in Vegas, he recruited as many individuals like him as possible, and together they tried to come back into Satan’s graces. But they were merely human, not a conduit of power, and the devil wasn’t answering them. Not until they offered him something… a virgin woman. Her name was Nadine Carter, and in her veins run the blood of killers and prostitutes and criminals. He accepted the offering, and fathered a child with her, half human, half devil, born to bring destruction upon this world… Timothy Carter.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“That’s Red John’s real name, Timothy Carter” Jane simply states, trying to skim over the image of the scared boy. He looked almost innocent, and not a freak, a monster, someone born to be a destroyer, who turned exactly into such.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> “Man, he seems… he is just a scared little boy… how is it possible for someone like that, turning into such a monster?” Rigsby, dear old teddy bear, Jane wonders if he is the mind-reader, sometimes, always telling people what they are probably thinking, even when they’ll be upset by it, and he doesn’t keep his mouth shout because he doesn’t get it.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“We did it, we turned him into a monster. And we did it by allowing him to live.” Daimon closes his eyes, and clenches his fists, firmly, so firmly his fingernails leave angry red mark in his palms, and in front of them… in front of the CBI, the visions… they see, with a gasp of horror, Johnny turning into the Rider, Hellstorm wielding a trident of some unknown energy, and Stephen mastering some form of power through an artifact, and they see them, fighting their way to the child, until the poor boy is on the ground, helpless, everybody around him trying to escape and not caring about him at all. And Daimon, in front of him, trident lifted into the air, ready to hit the child, stopped only by Strange’s sudden intervention, shaking his head, no.
“If we allow him to live, you know what it will be, you know what he’ll turn into!”
“Are you, of all, trying to tell me you don’t know the difference between nature versus nurture? I thought you were a better man, Daimon Hellstorm…” mso-ansi-language:EN-US">the Rider looks at the child for an instant, then turns to look at them, not saying a word, not mentioning sins or faults or any other thing, and walks away, in direction of the adults, the real sinners in his eyes, without further ado. “as you may see, even the Angel of Vengeance agrees with me. allow me to raise the child as my own, allow me to teach him about power and responsibility. I beg you, Daimon Hellstorm, listen to my pray, and spare this child, an innocent soul into this madness.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Vision-Daimon turns and walks away, as the trident vanishes like in thin air. “There’s only so much you can do, Strange. The blood isn’t water, and sooner or later, you’ll understand it’s even truer when it’s about the devil’s child you are talking about”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">And just like that, everything goes blank around them, and they find themselves yet again into Jane’s motel room, Strange in front of them, keeping up with the explanations. “I took him with me, hoping that I could… drive him to his highs, make him better, but I was wrong. Timothy never saw me as a mentor or a father… he knew who his real father was, and worshipped him, in secret. I tried to make him forget, going against everything I’ve always believed in. I brainwashed the child, but… I assume his father had a hold on him stronger than we all expected, and when Tim understood what I had done to him, he escaped to reunite to his blood family, and worship it as only a devil’s child could do. And to do so, he thinks there’s one way and one way only…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Light engulfs them again, just to turn into solid in front of them, taking the form of some sigil, the “alchemic circle” of the fables. Only, this one stands over a map, a map where many of the Red John murders are indicated by a pulsing and stronger light, a small fire that unite everything, a circle where just a point is missing to end it all.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I know those places. Those are few of the locations where Red John...” he moves closer, Patrick Jane, and skims over the drawing of energy making it shudder, disappear and reappear. His voice is broken, low, his eyes cold and distant. He gulps, and somehow, he knows, somehow they all know it. It’s the end, the final battle, them or Red John. “But I don’t understand… my family’s murder, it’s not indicated in the map, why? We know it was him, we know it wasn’t one of his friends, we know….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Not all of his killings have found their rightful place here, mister Jane, because not all the actions of the one you call Red John hide the same meaning. Many of the victims fallen because of his hand, they were merely meant to distract you, they were meant to drive us to the conclusion a simple and human serial killer was behind all of this, when there is nothing more distant from the truth…” he lowers his head, the good doctor, because he is somehow ashamed of what he is saying, feeling like every single one of those deaths were his fault, because he knows that they are, and because he doesn’t want to… doesn’t want to degrade the other fallen ones, they don’t deserve it. Their fate has been bad enough, peace and respect it’s the least they deserve now that they are no more.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“I don’t understand, what are you trying to tell us? That there is more than one Red John? Is that what you mean, that we are not dealing with one serial killer but more working on tandem?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“No, agent Lisbon, what my friend here is trying to tell you, is that you are not dealing with just an half-devil, but with his maniac followers as well.” Daimon grins, and there’s something… like dark humor hidden behind it. Jane can’t help but shiver, wondering why is that, what the man is hiding. Because he knows- there’s more than it meets the eye with this group of individuals, more than what they are allowing him and the team to see. There is some dark, deep secret involved, something both Daimon Hellstorm and Strange known but are not sharing.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Listen, I know that he is bad, but, seriously, the Devil? Doesn’t psychopathic fit more the job description? Do you seriously think we are going to buy that?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“With all due respect, Rigsby, but you are seeing what they are doing, and I saw what HE did to LaRoche when the big, bad, bald boss in charge tried to put one in my brain. I don’t know about God, but there’s definitely the devil himself involved here.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“You believe?” Jane just nods in silence, and Rigsby turns to face Cho, a look of disbelief and a crazy laugh printed on his face, like he couldn’t believe himself that Jane could have said something like that. “Man, he believes, that’s pretty bad, uh?” he turns, and face the sorcerers. “how bad it is?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“… Like I was saying before you interrupted me so rudely, the one you knew as Red John, known to the mortal souls like Timothy Carter….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Aka the guy I tried and failed to murder at the mall…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, him, Mister Jane, anyway” Strange pinches the bridge of his nose, a migraine coming. He wonders if, having to deal with this on a daily basis, Agent Lisbon as well feels this way. “Mister Carter is the son of Satan himself, born from a mortal woman and infused with Hell’s essence since before he walked the world. But the devil has many children walking the Earth, and as you can very well imagine, he doesn’t provide them with love and affection…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Like Kristina Frey told. That’s why he hurt her, because she knew the truth, had red right through him….”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“He didn’t hurt her, he just… he separated her body from her soul, turning her into a sort of Golem. That’s why you were able to talk with her spirit. Because she was dead, in a certain sense, and used her own body as a means of transmission. Even if she didn’t realize it back then.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“But I’m not a psych, how could have done that since I don’t have any kind of powers? Because I don’t have powers, right?” maybe, just maybe, psychs do exist. And maybe, just maybe, he is been one of them all along without even knowing it. Right now, Patrick Jane is ready to accept every possibility, this one included. And it shows how desperate he is, how his own worlds has been turned upside down.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Well, you spoke with her because she wanted to talk with you. Psychs as you folks imagine them doesn’t exist. There is no such a thing. Everybody can talk with Ghosts, because it’s the ghost that decides if talking or not, if making any contact or staying wherever they are… people doesn’t usually listen to them because they just can’t bother with losing the time or putting their faith in something, that’s all.”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, Ok, you two, we are all glad Jane’s theory there is not such a thing as psychs has finally been proved right, but, could we please go on? I reckon Doctor Strange was going to say something important…. And I’d like to hear it before tomorrow, pretty please, if you don’t mind.” Lisbon hisses. And glares, actually glares, closed fists. That’s how much she is irritated. Irritated and, yes, scared, because she may think Jane isn’t making any attention to his surroundings, but he does, and he saw her, holding like for dear life her cross whenever she thought he wasn’t paying attention.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He’d smile, because it’s kind of funny how she still feels kind of ashamed of every reaction she has when around him, because she always has to feel in control and strong whenever he is around, keeping in place her mask of “private stays private” and utterly professional cop. He’d smile, really, if he wasn’t so worried and shocked right now about the last few days’ events.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, yes, of course, you see, Red John, whose father called him Blackheart, is trying to get Satan’s attention, and to do so, he needs to open the gates of Hell, bringing the End of Days…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“So, all this death, all these murders, they are what, a ritual to get daddy’s attention?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yes, Miss… Van Pelt, right? Yes, they are indeed a ritual. What Blackheart is trying to accomplish, is opening up the gates of Hell by forming the Sigil of Ishbar, the capitol of a long, lost world in another dimension where the door that brings to the truth that alchemy hides was in every human being who had ever existed…. “
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“So, you know where he will hit next?”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Of course we do, Miss van Pelt. And we know even when…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“Yeah, well, sorry to interrupt you, man, but…” Before Strange could move further on with the planning and the information he and his allies gathered, Rigsby stops him, half-turned towards the man still in the corner, shaking like a frightened little child, their (former?) boss, LaRoche, one of the main characters in the huge conspiracy drawn by Red John’s expert hands over the years. “Shouldn’t we think first about LaRoche as well? I mean, we can’t leave him here, someone will start looking for the guy, and with due respect, we can’t go in a tribunal telling them that the info to get Red John came from a couple of sorcerers and a biker. Unless we don’t want to end up in some kind of asylum with a nice white shirt…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">“He is right.” Cho simply states, calmly, almost cold, and Strange almost smile, hiding it at the last minute behind his teeth, finding quite funny how this Asiatic could look like, at least in behavior, to the one Strange himself knows.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">He has a point, though, they all know it, because one thing is following a Jane hunch, another one this one. this is too important, this is too big. And besides, they can’t allow LaRoche to walk, not after the betrayal, not after he almost killed one of his own, not after he had a part in framing Hightower and made everything to stop them form finding out the truth about the bloody killer. The truth, or even just a clue.
mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Strange closes his eyes, a finger to his lips, deep lines appearing on his forehead out of concentration, turning sideway to be face at face with Daimon, who’s mirroring the sorcerer’s expression, the two of them so caught with each other, lost in their own discussion, to not even notice the others staring at them, the worlds going on. “Well, there was a spell of illumination of the Eye of Agamotto, inside the book of Vishanti, I think it was page 452…”
mso-ansi-language:EN-US"> “Yes, of course, it could give him his mind back, but it’s still hard to say what he could deny or admitting, unless we conjure it with a version of the Crimson band of Cyttorak, the one in the Book of Ancient Scrolls… modifying it to bound the will instead of the body, though… maybe adding a bit of the girl’s magic dust in the process, to give him some ideas about what he should or shouldn’t say.”
“I’m normally against mind manipulation, and a long time ago, when I first started abusing my powers, that was the only obstacles I’ve always refused to jump. BUT… this man is quite dangerous, and I fear his mind and soul are no longer with us, ready to accept peace and salvation, and would he come back, I fear for the ones who will cross his path. No, he has to pay for his wrongs, so this once I’ll allow this plan to move further on, and I’ll personally give Megan instructions to provide this man with the necessaries information….” He turns towards the others, smirking a little. “Tell me, my friends, do you have something planned for the evening of the day after tomorrow? For the planets are going to be in favor of everyone…”