A Madman and His Couch (Prologue & 1/8)
A Madman and His Couch
Author: tromana
Artist: kathiann
Link to art: Here
Word Count: 16,367
Rating: T
Summary: Doctor Who crossover. Patrick Jane has strange dreams. There's a reason for that. He's not... exactly... human. And it all comes to a head when a dead body in a case mysteriously goes missing...
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist or Doctor Who. This piece was entirely written for pleasure. And because people asked me to.
Notes: Written for The Mentalist Big Bang 2012. With thanks to miss_peg for betaing and kathiann for the artwork.
A Madman and His Couch
The Doctor stared at Romana, his mouth agape. They were surrounded by a cacophony of noise; black smoke billowed into the orange sky everywhere he looked. Somehow, the Time Lords had, thus far, managed to defend the Citadel, but that didn’t mean that Gallifrey wasn’t falling to the Daleks, and other time sensitive species. Many a plan to try and stop this endless war had been tried, but failed. His own ideas had become more and more audacious to say the least, but even he hadn’t thought of something quite as desperate as Romanadvoratrelundar. Almost consistently since he had been called back to Gallifrey to serve in this fruitless war, Romana had questioned his suggestions, so he was going to do precisely the same to hers. After all, it was all they either did to one another. And in reality, they were both aiming for the same thing: the end of the Time War.
“But Romana, we can’t. Isn’t that just tantamount to running away?”
“And so what if it is?” she asked dryly. “What other choice do we have if we’re going to survive?”
“We’ll lose the planet.”
“It’s a cost I’m willing to take.”
“And what about the others? Are they willing to lose Gallifrey too, just to survive?”
“I’m the President,” she hissed angrily at him. “It’s my job to make important decisions like this.”
The Doctor threw up his arms in disgust. He’d had a taste of the Presidency once upon a time, and he hadn’t enjoyed it much. Romana clearly remembered that; she had still been studying hard in the academy at the time. The tone of her voice very much suggested that she was trying to use that knowledge against him. It was a palpable blow and it only served to remind him just how much she had changed since she had returned to Gallifrey and taken on the highest of positions that the planet had to offer.
“Nobody will volunteer anyway. Not for that. It’s demeaning, it’s too human.”
“I thought you had a fondness for humanity?”
“I do, but that’s not the point! It’s the coward’s way out, Romana and you know it.”
There was a sharp knock at the door to the Presidential quarters. The Doctor turned to face it, frowning as he did so. Romana blithely instructed the visitor to enter and the doors slowly slid open. Out of the shadows came a vaguely familiar face. He was a Time Lord with golden curls, an easy smile and infinitely old blue eyes. This man was almost as notorious as he was - though he always claimed to merely bend the laws, rather than snap them entirely. Dubiously, the Doctor shook his hand and Romana smiled wanly.
“Doctor, I’d like to introduce Veridicusanimadverto to you.”
“We’ve met before, haven’t we, Doctor?”
“It’s been a long time, Veridicus,” he stated as he regarded the man. “You’ve regenerated. The blond suits you.”
“Thank you.”
“Veridicus has offered to be our first subject.”
The Doctor turned to face him, surprised. Veridicus merely smiled in response. The Chameleon Arch was an old technology, but that didn’t necessarily make it a safe one. Even if he survived the transition mode, was placed somewhere in the Earth’s timeline, there were no guarantees he would ever regain his Time Lord form. But then, if anyone was willing to take such a risk, then it was going to be Veridicus. This type of outside of the box thinking was definitely his style. In a way, it was no wonder that he had been willing to attach himself to such a project.
ldquo;I didn’t just offer, Doctor. I suggested the whole concept to the Lady President,” Veridicus answered before the Doctor even had a chance to ask ‘why’. “It’s only fair that I’m willing to be the guinea pig, as it were.”
“A suggestion that I am most grateful for,” Romana added, nodding in Veridicus’ direction. “Are you ready?”
The Doctor watched warily as Romana prepped the equipment and placed the headpiece on Veridicus. He folded his arms, almost sulking. Then, he realized why Romana had called him here. It wasn’t because she wanted to thrash out the kinks in the concept and it wasn’t to discuss the viability of the project. She had already done all that with Veridicus himself. No, she had merely wanted to update him on the status of the Time War and to inform him of their plans. Sooner, or later, she would inform him of what fate she had in store for him.
For now, he had to watch as the first human was created from a Time Lord body.
It was a matter of microspans before Veridicusanimadverto’s screams echoed around the Presidential quarters.
Patrick Jane didn’t sleep very often. His demons haunted him more than enough during his waking hours; he wasn’t about to let them run riot during his sleep. At least, when he was awake, he had things to distract himself from them. There was no such luck to escape when his eyes were tightly shut and his mind was currently elsewhere. However, on the few occasions when he couldn’t resist any longer, his dreams were startling and vivid. Only on very rare occasions did he see the butchered bodies of his dead wife and child. The rest of the time, they were completely different. He never dared to share his recollections with other people; they were utterly ludicrous, even to him. Instead, Jane diligently wrote them down in a notepad he kept stashed underneath his couch. The others thought he was writing out theories on Red John, and that was fine by him. After all, he had already spent a lot of lonely nights doing just that. At least they respected his privacy. Not that he generally gave them much choice on the matter, anyway.
It was early morning - around six a.m. - when he stirred. Jane blinked several times when he finally awoke. Instinctively, he ran a hand over his chest, almost curious as to what he would fine. For just a second, in that blurry moment between sleep and wakefulness, he had almost believed that he had two hearts. It was almost reassuring when he just discovered the one, beating out its regular beat to the upper left of his chest. Slowly, Jane swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up. After twisting his neck to get rid of the ache he always associated with sleeping on the couch, he finally felt fully conscious. Carefully, he leaned over and his fingers searched out for his precious notepad. When he finally managed to dig it out, he grinned to himself.
Almost immediately after, he started writing: an alternative physiology? same appearance on the outside, but two hearts? two pulses as a consequence, too. extremely long lifespan? who can live to 740 years old? internal body temperature sixty degrees? seems too cold… different blood? Jane read over his notes, frowning as he did so; it didn’t make much sense, but he knew that it could make the basis of a solid science fiction novel. Maybe, if he dared, he’d have words with Cho about it. Still, he studiously wrote down everything that he could recall. He was so engrossed in the task in hand that he didn’t even realize that Lisbon was hovering over him. Instead of saying ‘good morning’, she cleared her throat loudly. Jane jerked his head up in response and smiled warmly at her as she spoke.
“What are you writing about?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Nothing interesting,” he said and snapped the book shut.
“But you’d tell me if it was important, right?” There was an uncharacteristic hint of doubt in the tone of her voice.
“Right,” he agreed with a decisive nod. Then, he scrutinized her expression. “New case?”
“Yeah. Not far from here; only came to pick you up ‘cause I was passing by.”
“Thanks,” he said, grateful for her consideration. “You ready?”
He stood and walked several steps towards the elevator. Lisbon remained rooted to the spot, surprised at just how eager he was to get on with work, especially considering how early it was. After all, it was very uncharacteristic of him. However, Jane was looking forward to the distraction. Anything was better than listening to the nonsensical thoughts currently running through his head.
“Aren’t I meant to be the one who says that?” she asked.
“Does it matter?”
She shrugged. Normal rules didn’t apply to Patrick Jane and they both knew it.
They fell into a restive silence as they waited patiently for the elevator. When the doors sprang open, Jonas from Petty Crimes, along with two unusually dressed civilians, exited. Jane frowned; it was remarkably early for such meetings. In spite of that, he still gave them a cursory glance over. The girl had a short brown bob, sparkly cat-suit and a hint of wanderlust in her eyes. Meanwhile, her older companion was dressed shabbily and kept wringing his hands together. Despite his fatherly expression, Jane suspected that the pair weren’t actually related.
“But Doctor,” the woman stated expressively, “it’s all so primitive here!”
“Not to Jamie, my dear Zoe,” he answered genially. “Now, we’ll just go along with the lovely young man and we’ll…”
Jane didn’t hear anymore; they had already gone out of earshot. In all honesty, he was grateful for it. The small snippet of conversation had already jarred with him and the last thing he needed was to hear more eccentricities to fuel his dreams. Lisbon stared at him impatiently and he quickly joined her. She shook her head and sighed. Clearly, she was in one of those moods where she had very little patience. Then again, considering it was not yet seven a.m. and they were already on their way to a crime scene, she had probably been disturbed from her sleep earlier than usual.
They sat in silence as Lisbon drove sedately. The roads were beginning to get congested as the morning rush hour well and truly began. Jane watched her carefully as they slowly came across increasingly more traffic. In a way, it was sometimes quicker to get to a crime scene which was out of town rather than in the city center. The roads of Sacramento weren’t always necessarily that easy to get through at the best of times. Eventually, they slowed to a stop. Jane smirked when Lisbon cursed under her breath. For a while, he had been tempted to confide in her about his dreams. If nothing else, he thought they would amuse her. And besides, she already considered him to be a fairly strange person, so what harm could it do?
“Ever wondered what it would be like if humans had two hearts?” he queried.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“It’d be interesting. I wonder if it would make us stronger, hardier. Imagine how well the Olympians would perform…”
“Why would we even need two hearts?” she asked, humoring him.
“One for casual, one for best?” he suggested with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“And what does that mean?”
“We have a backup of other organs. Eyes, kidneys, lungs. Why not heart? It’d completely change the respiratory system too, I guess…”
“Jane?” she interrupted.
“Yes, Lisbon?”
“Shut up.”
She shot him one of those ‘you’re mad’ glances when she spoke and he promptly obeyed instructions for a change. Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood for a debate on alternative human anatomy at this time in the morning. Also, it looked very much like she was considering that he had too much time on his hands. Jane knew that between working for the CBI and hunting down Red John, he was fairly busy. However, that didn’t stop there from being occasions when endless monotony sunk in. That was when his all-too-vivid dreams haunted him the most.
Once they were moving again, he started talking about safer subjects - the weather, baseball, pet ownership and what she knew about the crime scene they were slowly approaching. Lisbon was still a little reluctant to talk at first, but as she woke up more, she grew a little more loquacious. It was always the same on days when she didn’t get her morning coffee. Jane smiled; this was what he liked about spending time with her. She would humor virtually any subject he dared to come up with.
That was except for his crazy dreams, clearly.
When they arrived at the crime scene, there was a brisk chill in the air. The park was small, idyllic, but had now been cordoned off with bright yellow tape. Forensics milled around the area, but Lisbon headed straight towards the coroner. He was a new man, and Jane watched as she shook his hand firmly before introducing them both. Soon enough, they were being led to the dead body. It was completely out in the open; a place where many people could have seen it.
And almost immediately, Jane could tell that this wasn’t the place the man had died.
There was no sign of damage to the surrounding area. No blood trails, nothing. There wasn’t even any damage to the vegetation, suggesting that the man’s body had been dragged into place. It was almost as if the body had fallen out of the sky, already dead. Without waiting for further instruction, Jane took a closer look. He already knew that the man was a John Doe, but hoped that he could find out more from his observations.
He looked to be in his late forties, or maybe early fifties. Wavy brown curls fell to his shoulders; it was quite a dated hairstyle. Then again, his clothing choices were relatively unusual too. Not as much as the young woman he’d spotted at the CBI headquarters, but enough to pose a few questions in his mind. A six-buttoned vest, ripped velvet frock coat, a cravat that had fallen out of place and even a dented fob watch, this was practically Edwardian chic. Briefly, Jane wondered if the victim had been headed towards some kind of costume party, or if he chose to wear it on a regular basis. If they’d been in Los Angeles, he’d have simply assumed that the man was an actor.
Eventually, he took stock of the man’s many injuries. From what he could tell, the man had suffered a broken arm and leg. There were countless cuts and bruises littering his features. On top of that, there were several burn marks. However, there was nothing that immediately suggested itself as being the cause of death. He hadn’t been shot, stabbed or hit around the head. There were no suggestions of poisoning, though Jane knew that the autopsy might shine more of a light on that possibility. The coroner and Lisbon both seemed to be sharing the same dour expression; clearly the new guy had come to the same conclusions as Jane had.
“Well?” Lisbon asked.
“It’s odd.”
“That’s what I said,” the new coroner replied. “Nothing seems to add up. I hope that my autopsy will clear up facts soon.”
Jane nodded in agreement. For once, he was grateful for the answers of medical science. However, he also felt slightly annoyed, more at himself than anything. He was meant to be the one with the answers, to speed up the cases so they didn’t have to wait for results from other people.
“He didn’t die here though.”
“He didn’t?” the coroner said in response.
“I didn’t think so either,” Lisbon muttered and Jane smiled a little.
“It looks like the body has been placed here somehow.”
“Yeah, it’s weird,” she agreed quietly. “You done here?”
“Yeah.”
They walked side by side and Jane turned to give the body one last cursory look. He wouldn’t have dared to say a word about it, but he almost could have sworn that the body was giving off a faint orange glow…
To Part Two