FIC: all but means nothing (1/6); The Mentalist
Title: all but means nothing
Disclaimer: If I owned the show, episodes would feature penguins. ;) I also don't own The Tale-Tale Heart (Edgar Allan Poe) or The Poison Tree (William Blake). Artwork belongs to kielamyis!
Rating: T, for violence.
Summary: Even if the killer heard the maddening timbre of his own bleeding heart. Team!fic.
Author Notes': Written for 2012 The Mentalist Reverse Big Bang. Spoilers for season four. When I had seen kielamyis' drawing, an idea popped into my head immediately. I knew I wanted to explore team dynamics and explore characterization, without relying on too much dialogue and basically telling a story involving thoughts and the personal outlooks of each character. Hence, this story is split into six parts for six different characters: Red John, Jane, Rigsby, Lisbon, Van Pelt, and Cho.
With that being said, you all should check out the extremely amazing artwork that was done for this story. kielamyis really outdid herself with the breath-taking artwork, as it's still making me jump up and down in excitement! You can find it HERE.
Red John’s decision had been made long before anything else. The Serious Crimes Unit-Patrick Jane’s misfit group of friends-had long labeled themselves a family and the label of a family deserved some retribution.
He didn’t want Jane having a family. He didn’t want Jane having people to lean on. Call it what you will-selfish, needy, attention seeking-but if Jane had others around him, he stopped thinking about the revenge and nobody wanted that. Red John had picked Patrick as a worthy adversary, somebody who could equal to his level and catch him, if only he tried hard enough.
However, it was clear that Patrick wasn’t trying hard enough. In fact, the ex-conman seemed to have completely forgotten about him and they couldn’t have that, could they? He had given the man clue after clue and yet, the man walked away. He blamed the entire team. He blamed Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon for involving herself where she didn’t belong. He blamed everybody else on the team by association.
Patrick needed to be reminded that stopping his hunt had casualties, but who could he pass the message along too?
The most obvious answer was Teresa Lisbon; Patrick’s friend and distraction. He had tempted twisting Teresa to his brilliant logic, but what would Patrick ultimately learn from that? He could take her from her home or the CBI, he could have a little fun with her body-torture was a rarely appreciated form of art, after all-before he would return her back to him, dead. He’d have no problems sending of one of his many friends into the CBI with her body, and he would take immense pleasure in watching Patrick’s reaction. He could see the consultant’s look of agony and anger at the sight of his best friend, her once beating heart having been cut from her chest as a message to keep playing the game and it filled him with thrill.
However, because Patrick cared more than he should have for Teresa, her death would send Patrick spiraling into a mental breakdown. He’d be forced into a psychiatric hospital and their little game-the game they had both spent years perfecting and playing-would be terminated without forethought.
Red John didn’t want that. He enjoyed the thrill of being chased. He enjoyed the thrill of getting away. He enjoyed the death and the destruction that his getting away made. If the game was terminated, he’d have to find somebody else to challenge and well, he had become extremely fond of Patrick. He didn’t want the man suffering the mental probes from psychologists, who thought they knew the world with their psychobabble.
Of course, if he couldn’t take and maim Teresa, he knew he could always use Grace Van Pelt; the team’s junior agent. Grace’s continuing naivety would make it easy to lure her away from the CBI and once in his grasp, he could use the life of any of her co-workers (or friends, as Craig had said she thought of them to be) as leverage for her to act upon his orders. Eventually, she’d slip up-a warning sign, of sorts, to her precious friends-and she’d be under the mercy of his knife. He’d prop her lifeless body outside the Sacramento area, call in an anonymous tip, and as the team found her, he’d be watching from afar.
They’d find his message first-his smiley face carved into her abdomen, pre-mortem-and then, they’d all have a thirst for revenge.
However, as much as the idea did thrill him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Grace had already been pushed to her limits and contrary to popular beliefs, he wasn’t a monster. Grace had shot her fiancé, Craig O’Laughlin, and that left more than enough emotional problems for her to wade through. Grace was a broken spirit and he felt his work-even though, it hadn’t been intentional-was finished with her.
Which left either Wayne Rigsby or Kimball Cho, and both men had certain amounts of usefulness about them.
Grace cared about Wayne and Wayne cared about Grace; he had witnessed the occasional flirtation between the two at his crime scenes. It was a cute, innocent, puppy love-something neither of them could fully understood-and now that Wayne had Sarah and his little bundle of joy, it became painfully obvious that neither of them had appreciated the gift he had bestowed upon them; the gift of life and a possible chance of happiness.
He could take Wayne from his home, he could have dragged him away from his beloved child and annoying girlfriend, and he could have punished him for the grave offense and rejection. Wayne would return home, dead, and the entire team would feel the blow. He could see their faces-shocked, stoic, horrified, and angered-and as much as their fickle emotions amused him, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to end Wayne’s life.
The little bundle of joy-Benjamin, one of his many friends within the CBI had told him-needed a father figure and he wasn’t a monster. He had only killed Patrick’s wife and child due to the running of his mouth on national television, and whether or not others agreed with him, Patrick had been long overdue for a lesson. His wife had denounced his psychic career and even if he had continued with the sham of his career choice, she probably would have eventually left him.
He had never been one for patience though, hence the speeding up of destruction via his knife.
If Teresa, Grace, and Wayne couldn’t be taken or used, it left Kimball Cho.
Kimball Cho, who already didn’t trust Patrick and was Teresa’s right hand man. Kimball Cho, who had a close friendship with Wayne and worked well with Grace. He knew Kimball’s disappearance (and the accompanying slow, painful death) would be an even larger blow to the team, who thought only Patrick and Teresa were being targeted.
Red John’s lips slowly quirked into a smile; he couldn’t wait until his gleaming blade parted soft skin and made scarlet waves, which would crash onto the floor.
Kimball’s disappearance would communicate the importance of time, because when it came down to it, they were all running against a ticking clock.
Disclaimer: If I owned the show, episodes would feature penguins. ;) I also don't own The Tale-Tale Heart (Edgar Allan Poe) or The Poison Tree (William Blake). Artwork belongs to kielamyis!
Rating: T, for violence.
Summary: Even if the killer heard the maddening timbre of his own bleeding heart. Team!fic.
Author Notes': Written for 2012 The Mentalist Reverse Big Bang. Spoilers for season four. When I had seen kielamyis' drawing, an idea popped into my head immediately. I knew I wanted to explore team dynamics and explore characterization, without relying on too much dialogue and basically telling a story involving thoughts and the personal outlooks of each character. Hence, this story is split into six parts for six different characters: Red John, Jane, Rigsby, Lisbon, Van Pelt, and Cho.
With that being said, you all should check out the extremely amazing artwork that was done for this story. kielamyis really outdid herself with the breath-taking artwork, as it's still making me jump up and down in excitement! You can find it HERE.
Red John’s decision had been made long before anything else. The Serious Crimes Unit-Patrick Jane’s misfit group of friends-had long labeled themselves a family and the label of a family deserved some retribution.
He didn’t want Jane having a family. He didn’t want Jane having people to lean on. Call it what you will-selfish, needy, attention seeking-but if Jane had others around him, he stopped thinking about the revenge and nobody wanted that. Red John had picked Patrick as a worthy adversary, somebody who could equal to his level and catch him, if only he tried hard enough.
However, it was clear that Patrick wasn’t trying hard enough. In fact, the ex-conman seemed to have completely forgotten about him and they couldn’t have that, could they? He had given the man clue after clue and yet, the man walked away. He blamed the entire team. He blamed Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon for involving herself where she didn’t belong. He blamed everybody else on the team by association.
Patrick needed to be reminded that stopping his hunt had casualties, but who could he pass the message along too?
The most obvious answer was Teresa Lisbon; Patrick’s friend and distraction. He had tempted twisting Teresa to his brilliant logic, but what would Patrick ultimately learn from that? He could take her from her home or the CBI, he could have a little fun with her body-torture was a rarely appreciated form of art, after all-before he would return her back to him, dead. He’d have no problems sending of one of his many friends into the CBI with her body, and he would take immense pleasure in watching Patrick’s reaction. He could see the consultant’s look of agony and anger at the sight of his best friend, her once beating heart having been cut from her chest as a message to keep playing the game and it filled him with thrill.
However, because Patrick cared more than he should have for Teresa, her death would send Patrick spiraling into a mental breakdown. He’d be forced into a psychiatric hospital and their little game-the game they had both spent years perfecting and playing-would be terminated without forethought.
Red John didn’t want that. He enjoyed the thrill of being chased. He enjoyed the thrill of getting away. He enjoyed the death and the destruction that his getting away made. If the game was terminated, he’d have to find somebody else to challenge and well, he had become extremely fond of Patrick. He didn’t want the man suffering the mental probes from psychologists, who thought they knew the world with their psychobabble.
Of course, if he couldn’t take and maim Teresa, he knew he could always use Grace Van Pelt; the team’s junior agent. Grace’s continuing naivety would make it easy to lure her away from the CBI and once in his grasp, he could use the life of any of her co-workers (or friends, as Craig had said she thought of them to be) as leverage for her to act upon his orders. Eventually, she’d slip up-a warning sign, of sorts, to her precious friends-and she’d be under the mercy of his knife. He’d prop her lifeless body outside the Sacramento area, call in an anonymous tip, and as the team found her, he’d be watching from afar.
They’d find his message first-his smiley face carved into her abdomen, pre-mortem-and then, they’d all have a thirst for revenge.
However, as much as the idea did thrill him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Grace had already been pushed to her limits and contrary to popular beliefs, he wasn’t a monster. Grace had shot her fiancé, Craig O’Laughlin, and that left more than enough emotional problems for her to wade through. Grace was a broken spirit and he felt his work-even though, it hadn’t been intentional-was finished with her.
Which left either Wayne Rigsby or Kimball Cho, and both men had certain amounts of usefulness about them.
Grace cared about Wayne and Wayne cared about Grace; he had witnessed the occasional flirtation between the two at his crime scenes. It was a cute, innocent, puppy love-something neither of them could fully understood-and now that Wayne had Sarah and his little bundle of joy, it became painfully obvious that neither of them had appreciated the gift he had bestowed upon them; the gift of life and a possible chance of happiness.
He could take Wayne from his home, he could have dragged him away from his beloved child and annoying girlfriend, and he could have punished him for the grave offense and rejection. Wayne would return home, dead, and the entire team would feel the blow. He could see their faces-shocked, stoic, horrified, and angered-and as much as their fickle emotions amused him, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to end Wayne’s life.
The little bundle of joy-Benjamin, one of his many friends within the CBI had told him-needed a father figure and he wasn’t a monster. He had only killed Patrick’s wife and child due to the running of his mouth on national television, and whether or not others agreed with him, Patrick had been long overdue for a lesson. His wife had denounced his psychic career and even if he had continued with the sham of his career choice, she probably would have eventually left him.
He had never been one for patience though, hence the speeding up of destruction via his knife.
If Teresa, Grace, and Wayne couldn’t be taken or used, it left Kimball Cho.
Kimball Cho, who already didn’t trust Patrick and was Teresa’s right hand man. Kimball Cho, who had a close friendship with Wayne and worked well with Grace. He knew Kimball’s disappearance (and the accompanying slow, painful death) would be an even larger blow to the team, who thought only Patrick and Teresa were being targeted.
Red John’s lips slowly quirked into a smile; he couldn’t wait until his gleaming blade parted soft skin and made scarlet waves, which would crash onto the floor.
Kimball’s disappearance would communicate the importance of time, because when it came down to it, they were all running against a ticking clock.