Russian Roulette (7/16)
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
Part Seven - Moving Onwards
It didn’t take Lisbon long to make a decision whether or not she should move into Jackson’s. Despite her brother’s reaction to the man, she felt like it was the right thing to do. Even though they both worked at the CBI, in actuality, they didn’t see all that much of one another. While he was mostly Sacramento-based, Lisbon found herself being pulled across the whole state, chasing leads to various cases. She knew that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, and if that meant moving in with him, then so be it.
His house was beautiful; he’d inherited it from his parents who, like hers, had died when he was young. She was grateful for the fact that it meant they could live rent-free; the CBI wage wasn’t that extensive. In all of her life, she had never been afforded that kind of financial security before. It was also ideally located on the outskirts of Sacramento. At the beginning of their relationship, Lisbon had spent a lot of her free time there anyway. Now, she could call it home.
Except, it wasn’t home. Not really. She could still see that it belonged to him and his family; she hadn’t been able to put her own stamp in it. Her belongings seemed to be dwarfed by his and there was little she could do about that. Regardless, there were times when she was alone in this old house and she wondered if she truly belonged in it. Part of her hoped that that feeling would dissipate over time. The more cynical side somehow always managed to override that feeling.
The house wasn’t the thing that was plaguing her at this specific moment in time, however. In fact, it couldn’t really have been much further from her mind. She walked inside, threw aside her purse and jacket in a fit and then slammed the door in frustration. Slowly, she leaned back up against it, her chest heaving. From the moment she had pulled up on the drive, everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours just hit her like a ton of bricks.
It had been another one of those days.
She tried to console herself with the simple fact that the case had been closed. If nothing else, that was some sort of silver lining. It was, after all, what she aimed for with every single case that passed through her hands. According to Virgil Minelli, she had done a good job. Closing this specific case had been of the utmost importance and it set the CBI up in a good light. The senator, whose wife had been brutally murdered in a freak attack, had been most pleased with the outcome, allegedly.
However, all Lisbon could do was think about the costs incurred in doing so. It had been a turbulent case and so much had gone wrong.
And she always loathed it whenever a case ended in a death.
Lisbon may have been representative of the law, but that didn’t make her judge, jury and executioner. Except, on rare occasions like this one, when it did.
Several more doors slammed and suddenly, Lisbon found herself wrapped up in a fierce hug. When they parted, she immediately noted the hint of anger in Jackson’s eyes and then she remembered. She hadn’t called him, told him that she had gotten out of this situation unscathed. That was more than could have been said of Wayne Rigsby. His relative naïveté had landed him in hospital with two broken ribs. Naturally, Lisbon had refused point blank to leave his side until she knew what the prognosis was.
At least he was going to be fine. She knew that it was probably going to take a while, but that didn’t matter. Lisbon hadn’t lost any of her team that day. Silently, she swore to herself that she never would. She never wanted to be put in the position of telling a cop’s loved ones that their son or daughter had passed away in the line of duty. However supposedly honorable it was, it didn’t make a blind bit of difference to the family.
“I thought it was you who-“ Jackson said, his voice catching on occasion.
“I’m fine,” Lisbon muttered automatically in response.
“You always say that.”
“No I don’t!”
“You should have told me; I was worried.”
“I’ve had other things on my mind.”
“Teresa…”
She turned away the moment that he said her name. Lisbon knew what it was like whenever a case went in this direction. Somehow, the news always got back to the headquarters and the gossip mill went into overdrive. Of course, there would have been a lot of misinformation embedded in there, but she had hoped that Jackson would have known enough without her having to go into detail. Just because he didn’t work in the field, it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand what it was like for those who did, did it?
“Don’t, just don’t,” she snapped back irritably.
“Talk to me.”
His voice was calming, soothing. However, Lisbon found herself fighting against it. There was something which was just making her stop. This was the first time she had actually had somebody to go home to after a case like this one. Part of her simply didn’t know how to react, how to let him in.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I can’t if you don’t let me try!”
“You - you’re just a pencil pusher. You don’t know what it’s like in the field, making those kinds of decisions…”
For the first time since she had arrived back at his place - at home - he remained wordless. That didn’t stop him from staring defiantly at her. Lisbon shook her head sadly as she turned to face the door, coming to the first decision that seemed to make any sense whatsoever.
“I killed a man today; you don’t know what that’s like. I’m going for a walk, don’t wait up.”
xxx
He’d known that the perpetrator had died in the case. The Chinese whispers in the offices had said as much. News that a member of the Serious Crimes Unit had been injured had also made its way around the building and he’d panicked. Red John was protective of Lisbon, not just because she was his partner, but his prey as well. As far as he was concerned, nobody else was allowed to touch her. She was his. He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Lisbon had been the one to fire the kill shot either. As he watched her disappearing up the street, a smile slowly grew on his face.
He was proud of her.
Then again, anyone would have been. Red John knew that their boss was for certain. After all, a lot of the rumors had been inadvertently started by Minelli himself. But he had to agree with him anyway. Teresa Lisbon was developing into an exceptional agent and a fine team leader. She had good natural instincts, an eye for detail and was a professional through and through. Lisbon knew exactly how to toe the line whenever it came to the law and she got the job done. What more could people have asked of her?
The irony of the fact that she had accused him of not understanding what it was like to take a life was not lost on him. Of course he understood, almost certainly better than most. He had killed more people than she could ever have dreamed of. Red John knew that he had murdered more people than her precious records had indicated that he’d done so. And it wasn’t just a case of taking ‘innocent’ lives, either. He’d relished in it and turned murder into an art form.
And that was the key factor that made Teresa Lisbon the opposite side of his coin.
While she’d loathed what she’d had to do, even though it was in the line of duty, Red John had turned death into a deadly game. One which Lisbon herself didn’t even realize she was playing. One which she would only clue into when it was all too late.
Lately, he had been getting a little bored. There was a girl he’d been grooming on the internet in his spare time and whenever Lisbon was away, working on a case. However, this girl was beginning to bore him too and if anything, he believed she was just at the right point now. She was ready to die. If he left it much longer, then he wasn’t going to gain any pleasure from her ‘untimely’ demise. Lisbon moving in with him recently had provided him with a brief distraction and it had changed their dynamics slightly. However, he was still a serial killer through and through. He still dreamed in blood.
Despite all that, he knew that he was in a catch-22 situation. If he killed, then it would have repercussions on Lisbon and her team. They were a particularly small unit already and the past twenty-four hours had already put them a man down. It was going to be hard for just Lisbon and Cho to really get anywhere with their work at this moment in time. And besides, Lisbon was already desolate enough anyway. Half of the fun he garnered from his killings was reveling in her reactions, seeing her grow frantic as she tried to piece everything together and found out that nothing worked.
But if he didn’t…
Red John shook his head. No, Gemma wasn’t clever enough to work out his identity. That was half the reason he’d chosen her. She was a piece of fluff, a bit of fun, some easy prey. She was never meant to be a challenge. It was fine for him to keep dragging her along. Gemma could wait until Lisbon was truly ready to have another Red John case land on her lap.
Then, there would be fun and games.
He glanced at an old picture of his mom and dad, one which still adorned the mantelpiece above the fireplace. It was from early in their courtship, shortly after they had gotten engaged. Red John stood to observe it. Like many of his parents’ property, he had inherited his mother’s old engagement ring. It was in its box upstairs in the study. Theoretically, he could have gotten rid of it. Pawned it in for money, or something, but that wasn’t something he’d ever needed.
Now, he decided, it would provide another purpose. Red John knew that Lisbon was prone to relatively long bouts of depression after a bad case. It made her feel like she was a failure at her job, like the men she worked with were secretly judging her for her shortcomings. In reality, most of them were too worried about their own jobs to be doing such a thing. However, if he wanted to quell the incessant itch in his fingers, to feel the silver blade between his fingertips, then he would have to hurry along this mood of hers.
And his mom did look so happy in that picture…
Red John knew that Lisbon had been a relative lone wolf for a long while, but he also suspected that was more out of necessity than design. If anything, she held family close to her heart. However much trouble her younger brothers caused her, she was still waiting patiently there for them. And, though it was deeply buried, she most certainly did have a romantic streak in her.
What could cheer her up more than a request for her hand in marriage?
To Part Eight
Part Seven - Moving Onwards
It didn’t take Lisbon long to make a decision whether or not she should move into Jackson’s. Despite her brother’s reaction to the man, she felt like it was the right thing to do. Even though they both worked at the CBI, in actuality, they didn’t see all that much of one another. While he was mostly Sacramento-based, Lisbon found herself being pulled across the whole state, chasing leads to various cases. She knew that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, and if that meant moving in with him, then so be it.
His house was beautiful; he’d inherited it from his parents who, like hers, had died when he was young. She was grateful for the fact that it meant they could live rent-free; the CBI wage wasn’t that extensive. In all of her life, she had never been afforded that kind of financial security before. It was also ideally located on the outskirts of Sacramento. At the beginning of their relationship, Lisbon had spent a lot of her free time there anyway. Now, she could call it home.
Except, it wasn’t home. Not really. She could still see that it belonged to him and his family; she hadn’t been able to put her own stamp in it. Her belongings seemed to be dwarfed by his and there was little she could do about that. Regardless, there were times when she was alone in this old house and she wondered if she truly belonged in it. Part of her hoped that that feeling would dissipate over time. The more cynical side somehow always managed to override that feeling.
The house wasn’t the thing that was plaguing her at this specific moment in time, however. In fact, it couldn’t really have been much further from her mind. She walked inside, threw aside her purse and jacket in a fit and then slammed the door in frustration. Slowly, she leaned back up against it, her chest heaving. From the moment she had pulled up on the drive, everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours just hit her like a ton of bricks.
It had been another one of those days.
She tried to console herself with the simple fact that the case had been closed. If nothing else, that was some sort of silver lining. It was, after all, what she aimed for with every single case that passed through her hands. According to Virgil Minelli, she had done a good job. Closing this specific case had been of the utmost importance and it set the CBI up in a good light. The senator, whose wife had been brutally murdered in a freak attack, had been most pleased with the outcome, allegedly.
However, all Lisbon could do was think about the costs incurred in doing so. It had been a turbulent case and so much had gone wrong.
And she always loathed it whenever a case ended in a death.
Lisbon may have been representative of the law, but that didn’t make her judge, jury and executioner. Except, on rare occasions like this one, when it did.
Several more doors slammed and suddenly, Lisbon found herself wrapped up in a fierce hug. When they parted, she immediately noted the hint of anger in Jackson’s eyes and then she remembered. She hadn’t called him, told him that she had gotten out of this situation unscathed. That was more than could have been said of Wayne Rigsby. His relative naïveté had landed him in hospital with two broken ribs. Naturally, Lisbon had refused point blank to leave his side until she knew what the prognosis was.
At least he was going to be fine. She knew that it was probably going to take a while, but that didn’t matter. Lisbon hadn’t lost any of her team that day. Silently, she swore to herself that she never would. She never wanted to be put in the position of telling a cop’s loved ones that their son or daughter had passed away in the line of duty. However supposedly honorable it was, it didn’t make a blind bit of difference to the family.
“I thought it was you who-“ Jackson said, his voice catching on occasion.
“I’m fine,” Lisbon muttered automatically in response.
“You always say that.”
“No I don’t!”
“You should have told me; I was worried.”
“I’ve had other things on my mind.”
“Teresa…”
She turned away the moment that he said her name. Lisbon knew what it was like whenever a case went in this direction. Somehow, the news always got back to the headquarters and the gossip mill went into overdrive. Of course, there would have been a lot of misinformation embedded in there, but she had hoped that Jackson would have known enough without her having to go into detail. Just because he didn’t work in the field, it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand what it was like for those who did, did it?
“Don’t, just don’t,” she snapped back irritably.
“Talk to me.”
His voice was calming, soothing. However, Lisbon found herself fighting against it. There was something which was just making her stop. This was the first time she had actually had somebody to go home to after a case like this one. Part of her simply didn’t know how to react, how to let him in.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I can’t if you don’t let me try!”
“You - you’re just a pencil pusher. You don’t know what it’s like in the field, making those kinds of decisions…”
For the first time since she had arrived back at his place - at home - he remained wordless. That didn’t stop him from staring defiantly at her. Lisbon shook her head sadly as she turned to face the door, coming to the first decision that seemed to make any sense whatsoever.
“I killed a man today; you don’t know what that’s like. I’m going for a walk, don’t wait up.”
xxx
He’d known that the perpetrator had died in the case. The Chinese whispers in the offices had said as much. News that a member of the Serious Crimes Unit had been injured had also made its way around the building and he’d panicked. Red John was protective of Lisbon, not just because she was his partner, but his prey as well. As far as he was concerned, nobody else was allowed to touch her. She was his. He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Lisbon had been the one to fire the kill shot either. As he watched her disappearing up the street, a smile slowly grew on his face.
He was proud of her.
Then again, anyone would have been. Red John knew that their boss was for certain. After all, a lot of the rumors had been inadvertently started by Minelli himself. But he had to agree with him anyway. Teresa Lisbon was developing into an exceptional agent and a fine team leader. She had good natural instincts, an eye for detail and was a professional through and through. Lisbon knew exactly how to toe the line whenever it came to the law and she got the job done. What more could people have asked of her?
The irony of the fact that she had accused him of not understanding what it was like to take a life was not lost on him. Of course he understood, almost certainly better than most. He had killed more people than she could ever have dreamed of. Red John knew that he had murdered more people than her precious records had indicated that he’d done so. And it wasn’t just a case of taking ‘innocent’ lives, either. He’d relished in it and turned murder into an art form.
And that was the key factor that made Teresa Lisbon the opposite side of his coin.
While she’d loathed what she’d had to do, even though it was in the line of duty, Red John had turned death into a deadly game. One which Lisbon herself didn’t even realize she was playing. One which she would only clue into when it was all too late.
Lately, he had been getting a little bored. There was a girl he’d been grooming on the internet in his spare time and whenever Lisbon was away, working on a case. However, this girl was beginning to bore him too and if anything, he believed she was just at the right point now. She was ready to die. If he left it much longer, then he wasn’t going to gain any pleasure from her ‘untimely’ demise. Lisbon moving in with him recently had provided him with a brief distraction and it had changed their dynamics slightly. However, he was still a serial killer through and through. He still dreamed in blood.
Despite all that, he knew that he was in a catch-22 situation. If he killed, then it would have repercussions on Lisbon and her team. They were a particularly small unit already and the past twenty-four hours had already put them a man down. It was going to be hard for just Lisbon and Cho to really get anywhere with their work at this moment in time. And besides, Lisbon was already desolate enough anyway. Half of the fun he garnered from his killings was reveling in her reactions, seeing her grow frantic as she tried to piece everything together and found out that nothing worked.
But if he didn’t…
Red John shook his head. No, Gemma wasn’t clever enough to work out his identity. That was half the reason he’d chosen her. She was a piece of fluff, a bit of fun, some easy prey. She was never meant to be a challenge. It was fine for him to keep dragging her along. Gemma could wait until Lisbon was truly ready to have another Red John case land on her lap.
Then, there would be fun and games.
He glanced at an old picture of his mom and dad, one which still adorned the mantelpiece above the fireplace. It was from early in their courtship, shortly after they had gotten engaged. Red John stood to observe it. Like many of his parents’ property, he had inherited his mother’s old engagement ring. It was in its box upstairs in the study. Theoretically, he could have gotten rid of it. Pawned it in for money, or something, but that wasn’t something he’d ever needed.
Now, he decided, it would provide another purpose. Red John knew that Lisbon was prone to relatively long bouts of depression after a bad case. It made her feel like she was a failure at her job, like the men she worked with were secretly judging her for her shortcomings. In reality, most of them were too worried about their own jobs to be doing such a thing. However, if he wanted to quell the incessant itch in his fingers, to feel the silver blade between his fingertips, then he would have to hurry along this mood of hers.
And his mom did look so happy in that picture…
Red John knew that Lisbon had been a relative lone wolf for a long while, but he also suspected that was more out of necessity than design. If anything, she held family close to her heart. However much trouble her younger brothers caused her, she was still waiting patiently there for them. And, though it was deeply buried, she most certainly did have a romantic streak in her.
What could cheer her up more than a request for her hand in marriage?
To Part Eight