The Scenic Route (4/7)
*note* this fic was completed prior to the challenge finishing. I just got lazy posting it on here...
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Part Four
18th October 2012
She had slept terribly the night beforehand; unsettling dreams about Jane and her past led to her feeling more drained than rejuvenated by the time she woke up. For years, Lisbon had tried to forget about the carnivals she'd attended as a child, but ever since meeting Patrick Jane just over nine years ago, they had managed to start taunting her again. She'd been more at peace with herself, back then, which was hardly surprising given how things turned out. Whenever the carnival came to town, it was when she was at her happiest. And that was all because of one boy. But it was also because she had snuck out to see him, that her mother had been killed. If she had just told them where she was going (not that her father would ever have agreed to it), or even just rejected his invitation, then her mom wouldn't have had cause to be on the roads at that time of day. She wouldn't have been killed by that damn drunk driver. Those bitter words that her father had spat out on more than one occasion had never left her. Things like that always made the good times they had once shared as a family harder to remember, too.
But Lisbon had been young and impetuous. She had also fallen horribly in love with Daniel Jane, despite only seeing him so briefly once a year.
You never forgot your first love.
Which was why, when Patrick Jane became her consultant, all these bittersweet memories had resurfaced.
She remembered how she used to beg to see Patrick Jane's shows, but her mother had always refused. 'Psychics don't exist, sweetie,' she always said, in a slightly condescending tone that Lisbon had been too young to notice at the time. However, unlike both of her parents, Lisbon had always kept an open mind, if only because of Daniel. He'd never introduced her to his twin brother, but it had never particularly bothered her at the time. Meeting others simply served as a distraction from spending time with Daniel. Except for the animals, of course. Lisbon had always had a soft spot for them.
When she had finally met Patrick Jane, the 'boy wonder' as he had once been called, she had been startled by his claims that psychics didn't exist. It seemed that her parents had been right; that it was a sham. And she had always thought the Jane twins had been scrupulously honest with her, if not other people. It was then that she had started to question Jane's relationship with his brother. He never brought him up, so she didn't bother to do so either. Besides, it seemed easier just to ignore that ever so slight connection in the past.
However, dealing with Zachary De Souza's case had made things worse. Last night, the dreams had been all the more vivid. Young Zachary had been there, teasing her about kissing the psychic boy, in that cheeky little voice that only a seven year old could manage. She kept trying to correct him, telling him no, it had been the psychic boy's brother instead. It had been Daniel, not Patrick, never Patrick. The psychic barely left the side of their father, so how could she have kissed him when she was younger? And besides, she only tolerated Jane because he closed cases. She liked him well enough, but he was only a coworker. But seven year old Zachary was having none of it and continued taunting her, despite the fact she had quite obviously been a grown woman, even in the dream. In the end, Lisbon had woken feeling thoroughly confused.
Still, he posed a very important question to her, one that lingered on for hours afterwards. What if…?
She shook her head violently as she slammed the door to her car shut. There was no point in thinking like that. Quickly, Lisbon scoured the parking lot for an all too familiar classic blue car. It wasn't there. Muttering incoherently under her breath, Lisbon glanced at her watch to see that she was already five minutes late, which meant that Jane was running even later than she was. When she saw him pull in, she was relieved. Sometimes, she had to wonder if his car was still roadworthy, after all. There was a time when she just about trusted the thing, but now, as far as she was concerned, it was only worthy of the scrapheap.
As Jane approached, there was an all too familiar twinkle in his eye. Somebody looked like he was in a good mood. Well, at least one of them was, she considered. When he had first been assigned to her unit, she hadn't been too pleased, but now, she welcomed him not only as a part of the team (he closed cases was her mantra), but as a… friend. However, he'd always had that sense of overfamiliarity with her, even right at the beginning when she tried to keep him at arm's length. Even back then, he gave her cause to wonder. Firstly, because though she had heard a fair bit about him from her brother, he had never met her. And he was, after all, strikingly similar to Daniel. Sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if they really were one and the same.
Especially now and especially after those dreams last night. Then again, they were enough to unsettle anybody.
Despite that, she tried to dismiss it as her overactive imagination. Patrick Jane understood her so quickly was because of his astonishing abilities and because she was startlingly easy to read. And he must have talked to his brother about her, of course. She'd seen first-hand just how quickly information was passed through the carnival people. Daniel wouldn't have been able to keep it all a secret, however hard he'd tried.
"You're late," she said critically.
"Only by ten minutes," he protested.
"Whatever."
"Someone isn't in a good mood today."
"I just want this over with."
"I understand," he said lightly and gently reached out to touch her. Automatically, Lisbon pulled her arm back before he even had a chance. "How did your brother take the news?"
A select number of details had been released to the press shortly after Lisbon had left work last night, in the hope that some witnesses may come forward. However, all it had resulted in thus far was a tearful conversation with Thomas Lisbon. As well as being bitterly upset, he was furious with his sister for not having informed him imminently, despite her having no cause to do so yet. She had spent half her evening trying to calm him down and promising that she had meant to tell him as soon as she had clearance to do so. It was just a case of him catching the press announcement minutes before she was going to call him with the bad news.
"Badly," she admitted. "They were planning to meet up for the first time in a decade next week."
"Ah."
"Yeah," she said, acknowledging just how much emotion he could get into such a simple word. "And what about your brother? Has he found out yet? How is Daniel these days?"
xxx
2nd July 1987
His father had tried to make him dispose of Teresa's bicycle, but Patrick had stubbornly kept hold of it. Almost a year might have passed since he'd seen her last, but he desperately wanted to return it to its owner. In truth, he desperately wanted to see her again, anyway. He'd be taunted by memories of the last time he'd seen her, just shy of one year previously.
He hated the fact that the last time he'd seen her, she had been so devastated.
And it was partially his fault.
Patrick still didn't know if Teresa's mom was okay, if she had survived even. All he knew was that she'd been in the accident that her father had told Teresa about in the most brutal of ways. The carnival had cleared out less than forty-eight hours after the fact and he hadn't had enough time to pick up on the local news, to find out either way. It didn't help that his father had worked his knuckles to the proverbial grindstone during the brief time they'd remained in Chicago, either. He was beginning to curse the fact he'd never gotten around to asking her for her address, her telephone number even. Just because he was constantly on the move and sometimes unable to be contacted, it didn't mean that she was. Patrick was sure she would have appreciated a postcard or two during their time apart.
Chicago had fallen earlier in the schedule than usual, but Patrick had initially been fairly certain that the Lisbon family would turn up, sooner or later. They never liked to miss the carnival and he couldn't actually remember a time when they hadn't attended. However, it was already the penultimate day and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of them. Patrick had checked with Angela frequently, much to her irritation, but she also confirmed what he suspected: they hadn't visited yet. That worried him; the family was utterly predictable. They never left it this late for their yearly visit. Sometimes, they even came a couple of times during one stint, which was pretty unusual for any family.
In a desperate whim, Patrick took off and actually sought her out for himself. If she wasn't going to come to him, then he was going to find her. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but he didn't care. He just couldn't bear the thought of coming to Chicago without seeing her and those green eyes again, especially as it was likely that this was going to be his last visit to the city. Patrick hadn't told his father (for he was the problem), but he and Angela were planning to leave together as soon as feasibly possible. The only reason they had held out until now was because he insisted on seeing Teresa. He was desperate to find out if there was some way of orchestrating her into his plans. The Windy City, after all, was as good a place as any to start afresh.
Naturally, it made him realize just how little he actually knew about Teresa. Sure, he knew how her mind worked, what made her happy, how she felt about him and things like that, but it didn't mean he knew core facts. Like where she lived, where she went to school, where other members of her family lived, what her hobbies were even. Instead of things that would help him track her down, he knew about the finer details that made her herself. After what felt like hours of aimlessly wandering, he returned back to the carnival, only to be greeted by a harried Angela. Patrick didn't even have time to ask his important question: has Teresa and her family visited the carnival today? Instead, she rushed him off for an audience with his father.
His particularly furious father, that was.
Patrick knew that he was the only blood-family that Alex Jane felt he could rely on (or at least, manipulate.) His mom had died in a freak accident when he was barely a month old and thus, Patrick couldn't even remember her. The carnival was home and that was the end of the matter. Still, he knew it would feel good to finally be out of it, away from the controlling hands of his dad.
And away from the only family (related or otherwise) that he knew. But there was a downside to everything. He kept reminding himself of the positives about leaving: the ones that Angela had instilled in him over the years.
"You're late," his father snarled the moment he walked into the trailer. "Where have you been, boy?"
"Out," Patrick answered with a noncommittal shrug.
He didn't need to know; it was none of his business. And besides, he was eighteen years old - a man now - he didn't need babysitting twenty-four seven.
"You missed an appointment," Alex continued to rage, pacing as he did. "It could have been the big one; this one would have made us rich! It would have-"
He stopped and began to raise a hand to Patrick. However, he took a step back and glared at his father. There was no way he was going to let his dad lay another finger on him. This was the exact reason why he was leaving the carnival. He was sick and tired of pretending to be a child psychic, of being years younger than he actually was. Sick of fleecing innocent, desperate people out of their money, of lying for a living. Fed up of his father controlling all of his earnings and taking more than his fair share, then losing it all on gambling.
He needed to be the one in control of his own life.
"No," he snapped back and grabbed his hold-all from the side of the van. He'd kept it packed, just in case he ever needed to leave quickly. "I'm sick of this. I'm leaving. Angela's coming with me."
Patrick stormed out of the trailer, to where Angela was waiting with her bags. She'd obviously suspected that their conversation was going to end like this and prepared accordingly. With a nod, he took her hand and blindingly ignored his father's rants and raves and attempts to call him back.
Chicago it was, then.
He broke out into a grin.
This meant he now had all the time in the world to find Teresa Lisbon.
To Part Five
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Part Four
18th October 2012
She had slept terribly the night beforehand; unsettling dreams about Jane and her past led to her feeling more drained than rejuvenated by the time she woke up. For years, Lisbon had tried to forget about the carnivals she'd attended as a child, but ever since meeting Patrick Jane just over nine years ago, they had managed to start taunting her again. She'd been more at peace with herself, back then, which was hardly surprising given how things turned out. Whenever the carnival came to town, it was when she was at her happiest. And that was all because of one boy. But it was also because she had snuck out to see him, that her mother had been killed. If she had just told them where she was going (not that her father would ever have agreed to it), or even just rejected his invitation, then her mom wouldn't have had cause to be on the roads at that time of day. She wouldn't have been killed by that damn drunk driver. Those bitter words that her father had spat out on more than one occasion had never left her. Things like that always made the good times they had once shared as a family harder to remember, too.
But Lisbon had been young and impetuous. She had also fallen horribly in love with Daniel Jane, despite only seeing him so briefly once a year.
You never forgot your first love.
Which was why, when Patrick Jane became her consultant, all these bittersweet memories had resurfaced.
She remembered how she used to beg to see Patrick Jane's shows, but her mother had always refused. 'Psychics don't exist, sweetie,' she always said, in a slightly condescending tone that Lisbon had been too young to notice at the time. However, unlike both of her parents, Lisbon had always kept an open mind, if only because of Daniel. He'd never introduced her to his twin brother, but it had never particularly bothered her at the time. Meeting others simply served as a distraction from spending time with Daniel. Except for the animals, of course. Lisbon had always had a soft spot for them.
When she had finally met Patrick Jane, the 'boy wonder' as he had once been called, she had been startled by his claims that psychics didn't exist. It seemed that her parents had been right; that it was a sham. And she had always thought the Jane twins had been scrupulously honest with her, if not other people. It was then that she had started to question Jane's relationship with his brother. He never brought him up, so she didn't bother to do so either. Besides, it seemed easier just to ignore that ever so slight connection in the past.
However, dealing with Zachary De Souza's case had made things worse. Last night, the dreams had been all the more vivid. Young Zachary had been there, teasing her about kissing the psychic boy, in that cheeky little voice that only a seven year old could manage. She kept trying to correct him, telling him no, it had been the psychic boy's brother instead. It had been Daniel, not Patrick, never Patrick. The psychic barely left the side of their father, so how could she have kissed him when she was younger? And besides, she only tolerated Jane because he closed cases. She liked him well enough, but he was only a coworker. But seven year old Zachary was having none of it and continued taunting her, despite the fact she had quite obviously been a grown woman, even in the dream. In the end, Lisbon had woken feeling thoroughly confused.
Still, he posed a very important question to her, one that lingered on for hours afterwards. What if…?
She shook her head violently as she slammed the door to her car shut. There was no point in thinking like that. Quickly, Lisbon scoured the parking lot for an all too familiar classic blue car. It wasn't there. Muttering incoherently under her breath, Lisbon glanced at her watch to see that she was already five minutes late, which meant that Jane was running even later than she was. When she saw him pull in, she was relieved. Sometimes, she had to wonder if his car was still roadworthy, after all. There was a time when she just about trusted the thing, but now, as far as she was concerned, it was only worthy of the scrapheap.
As Jane approached, there was an all too familiar twinkle in his eye. Somebody looked like he was in a good mood. Well, at least one of them was, she considered. When he had first been assigned to her unit, she hadn't been too pleased, but now, she welcomed him not only as a part of the team (he closed cases was her mantra), but as a… friend. However, he'd always had that sense of overfamiliarity with her, even right at the beginning when she tried to keep him at arm's length. Even back then, he gave her cause to wonder. Firstly, because though she had heard a fair bit about him from her brother, he had never met her. And he was, after all, strikingly similar to Daniel. Sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if they really were one and the same.
Especially now and especially after those dreams last night. Then again, they were enough to unsettle anybody.
Despite that, she tried to dismiss it as her overactive imagination. Patrick Jane understood her so quickly was because of his astonishing abilities and because she was startlingly easy to read. And he must have talked to his brother about her, of course. She'd seen first-hand just how quickly information was passed through the carnival people. Daniel wouldn't have been able to keep it all a secret, however hard he'd tried.
"You're late," she said critically.
"Only by ten minutes," he protested.
"Whatever."
"Someone isn't in a good mood today."
"I just want this over with."
"I understand," he said lightly and gently reached out to touch her. Automatically, Lisbon pulled her arm back before he even had a chance. "How did your brother take the news?"
A select number of details had been released to the press shortly after Lisbon had left work last night, in the hope that some witnesses may come forward. However, all it had resulted in thus far was a tearful conversation with Thomas Lisbon. As well as being bitterly upset, he was furious with his sister for not having informed him imminently, despite her having no cause to do so yet. She had spent half her evening trying to calm him down and promising that she had meant to tell him as soon as she had clearance to do so. It was just a case of him catching the press announcement minutes before she was going to call him with the bad news.
"Badly," she admitted. "They were planning to meet up for the first time in a decade next week."
"Ah."
"Yeah," she said, acknowledging just how much emotion he could get into such a simple word. "And what about your brother? Has he found out yet? How is Daniel these days?"
xxx
2nd July 1987
His father had tried to make him dispose of Teresa's bicycle, but Patrick had stubbornly kept hold of it. Almost a year might have passed since he'd seen her last, but he desperately wanted to return it to its owner. In truth, he desperately wanted to see her again, anyway. He'd be taunted by memories of the last time he'd seen her, just shy of one year previously.
He hated the fact that the last time he'd seen her, she had been so devastated.
And it was partially his fault.
Patrick still didn't know if Teresa's mom was okay, if she had survived even. All he knew was that she'd been in the accident that her father had told Teresa about in the most brutal of ways. The carnival had cleared out less than forty-eight hours after the fact and he hadn't had enough time to pick up on the local news, to find out either way. It didn't help that his father had worked his knuckles to the proverbial grindstone during the brief time they'd remained in Chicago, either. He was beginning to curse the fact he'd never gotten around to asking her for her address, her telephone number even. Just because he was constantly on the move and sometimes unable to be contacted, it didn't mean that she was. Patrick was sure she would have appreciated a postcard or two during their time apart.
Chicago had fallen earlier in the schedule than usual, but Patrick had initially been fairly certain that the Lisbon family would turn up, sooner or later. They never liked to miss the carnival and he couldn't actually remember a time when they hadn't attended. However, it was already the penultimate day and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of them. Patrick had checked with Angela frequently, much to her irritation, but she also confirmed what he suspected: they hadn't visited yet. That worried him; the family was utterly predictable. They never left it this late for their yearly visit. Sometimes, they even came a couple of times during one stint, which was pretty unusual for any family.
In a desperate whim, Patrick took off and actually sought her out for himself. If she wasn't going to come to him, then he was going to find her. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but he didn't care. He just couldn't bear the thought of coming to Chicago without seeing her and those green eyes again, especially as it was likely that this was going to be his last visit to the city. Patrick hadn't told his father (for he was the problem), but he and Angela were planning to leave together as soon as feasibly possible. The only reason they had held out until now was because he insisted on seeing Teresa. He was desperate to find out if there was some way of orchestrating her into his plans. The Windy City, after all, was as good a place as any to start afresh.
Naturally, it made him realize just how little he actually knew about Teresa. Sure, he knew how her mind worked, what made her happy, how she felt about him and things like that, but it didn't mean he knew core facts. Like where she lived, where she went to school, where other members of her family lived, what her hobbies were even. Instead of things that would help him track her down, he knew about the finer details that made her herself. After what felt like hours of aimlessly wandering, he returned back to the carnival, only to be greeted by a harried Angela. Patrick didn't even have time to ask his important question: has Teresa and her family visited the carnival today? Instead, she rushed him off for an audience with his father.
His particularly furious father, that was.
Patrick knew that he was the only blood-family that Alex Jane felt he could rely on (or at least, manipulate.) His mom had died in a freak accident when he was barely a month old and thus, Patrick couldn't even remember her. The carnival was home and that was the end of the matter. Still, he knew it would feel good to finally be out of it, away from the controlling hands of his dad.
And away from the only family (related or otherwise) that he knew. But there was a downside to everything. He kept reminding himself of the positives about leaving: the ones that Angela had instilled in him over the years.
"You're late," his father snarled the moment he walked into the trailer. "Where have you been, boy?"
"Out," Patrick answered with a noncommittal shrug.
He didn't need to know; it was none of his business. And besides, he was eighteen years old - a man now - he didn't need babysitting twenty-four seven.
"You missed an appointment," Alex continued to rage, pacing as he did. "It could have been the big one; this one would have made us rich! It would have-"
He stopped and began to raise a hand to Patrick. However, he took a step back and glared at his father. There was no way he was going to let his dad lay another finger on him. This was the exact reason why he was leaving the carnival. He was sick and tired of pretending to be a child psychic, of being years younger than he actually was. Sick of fleecing innocent, desperate people out of their money, of lying for a living. Fed up of his father controlling all of his earnings and taking more than his fair share, then losing it all on gambling.
He needed to be the one in control of his own life.
"No," he snapped back and grabbed his hold-all from the side of the van. He'd kept it packed, just in case he ever needed to leave quickly. "I'm sick of this. I'm leaving. Angela's coming with me."
Patrick stormed out of the trailer, to where Angela was waiting with her bags. She'd obviously suspected that their conversation was going to end like this and prepared accordingly. With a nod, he took her hand and blindingly ignored his father's rants and raves and attempts to call him back.
Chicago it was, then.
He broke out into a grin.
This meant he now had all the time in the world to find Teresa Lisbon.
To Part Five