Mentalist: Red Rain (part i)
May. 16th, 2020 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerThe first bit is kinda fluffy but I'm not going to label it as a fluff-fic given where it goes. Lisbon's ooc, but that's on purpose.
As dark-fic goes, this one's really good at it, but it probably always will make me anxious to share dark-fic. But I'm going to stop stalling and actually post.
Main Points:
Mentalist AU
Chapter Summary: Lisbon goes on a date with Jane, only it doesn't feel real...
Word Count: 2344
Rating: Teen
Warning: Suicide. Jane has issues. (so does Lisbon) If you or someone you know needs help, please, call one of the suicide prevention hotlines. (I actually did when an acquaintance talked about suicide, so do be aware, you definitely get compassionate people and confidential services on the other end. They do help!)
Lisbon had never had so much fun in her life that she could recall.
She had no idea why Jane was being so nice to her. Quite frankly, she didn’t care. Okay, so that meant that he probably had something up his sleeve, but he always did. And suddenly they weren’t surrounded by work. It was just two people out and having fun. Right?
They’d gone to a movie, and Jane had whispered every single thing that was going to happen seconds before it did at the back of the theater. The popcorn melted in her mouth, covered in at least three sticks of butter and a couple cups of salt, but for once she didn’t worry about that, let herself go. Ordinarily if she’d even agree to go to a movie with Jane, his predicting all the moves would have annoyed her, but instead here she just giggled at him and took another handful of popcorn, indulging. She was entitled to it.
On his part, he just met her amusement with a knowing smile and took another sip from the straw of a large water. He’d gotten some strange looks when he’d ordered that, but he’d paid well and she half suspected that he’d done it just to mess with the workers.
He’d let her drive, and he’d done the gentlemanly thing as he always did, holding open doors for her, deferring to her authority. Normally that dug under her skin. She knew that from most people it was meant as a gesture of reverence to women, but with Jane it was most likely just another trick to scramble someone’s head, and either way it drove her crazy. This time she just took it with a smile, enjoying the fact that for once he didn’t seem to be playing mind games.
It usually embarrassed her that he’d do the mentalist thing, representing the CBI badly. Annoying people on purpose was a wasteful, silly, childish pastime, something she’d never failed to tell him. Until now.
When the other people cast them glares, she just giggled more. She would ordinarily wonder if he’d hypnotised her, but he was acting differently too.
She couldn’t remember what they’d done in the morning, but the day had been so filled with all the things that she’d wanted to do over the weekends and never could get to that it was hard to remember everything. If she hadn’t been working with Jane for forever, she’d think that he’d read her mind and was going out of his way to make it a beautiful day for her.
When the movie got out, he took her to her favorite restaurant. No one else was there, and it was dark.
“Where is everybody?” she asked, looking around. The door had been open. She hoped nobody had been killed to spoil her evening.
Jane smiled at her again. “I rented the whole restaurant. Just for the evening. But if there’s anything special you want, I can get it for you.” He waved a hand, and suddenly a waiter was at his side.
“I’d like a dress.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized, and she reddened in embarrassment. However, Jane took it in stride.
“Anything in particular?” The knowing smile hadn’t left his face, she realized.
“Surprise me,” she challenged him, smiling, and he nodded at her, smile growing in his eyes.
He gestured to the waiter, who promptly leaned in close. He whispered a few words in the man’s ears, and the man nodded solemnly before disappearing.
“They have a delivery boy, Richard. Nice kid. He’s being sent out on any errand you could imagine. Should I change too?”
The question had no alteration in tone, so for a moment Lisbon didn’t realized that he was waiting on a reply. “If you want.” She felt a little out of her element. Why was he asking her? He’d gone out of his way for her day already. She wasn’t going to dictate how he was going to behave, however much she’d wanted to do so before now.
He smiled and nodded, standing up. “It should be here in about five minutes. Rich is a speed demon on a bicycle. If you want to freshen up, too, there probably are products to do so in the ladies’ room.”
Lisbon waited, somewhat anxiously, until a boy, about eleven, ran, panting, into the room bearing a beautiful mahogany dress. She found everything in the women’s restroom-lipstick that perfectly matched her, hair styling equipment-everything she could have ever dreamed of. It probably had to have been masterminded by Jane-yet again. What was he up to?
When she came back to the table, Jane was already there, looking fresh in a tux and bow tie. He’d combed his hair, but other than that hadn’t changed much. The oddest thing was that he looked even sharper than he normally did-some sort of suit jacket seemed to be working clothes for him, but here he looked even better.
Upon seeing her, his mouth opened just slightly, and he almost jumped out of his seat to get her chair for her.
“You look amazing.” The compliment sounded involuntary, but one never knew with Jane.
“Thanks,” she answered, blushing like a schoolgirl.
The waiter once again appeared to take their order and disappeared just as quickly. “He’s following your every whim here. I’m just the translator,” Jane explained.
She finally realized that her favorite flowers stood in a vase on the table, and the only illumination in the room came from candles. She realized that it was her perfect version of a romantic dinner, and that, too, Patrick probably knew.
“Jane, what’s this about?” she asked, feeling a sudden twinge of foreboding in her gut.
He sighed and looked at her, ever so much the polished man she’d known and yet so much in pain. “I told myself, after Red John, after my wife...never again. And yet you’re here, Agent Lisbon.” The words didn’t say much, not on the surface, but on the inside they were more honest with her than he’d ever been. His eyes spoke to her, frank and agonized. “You’ve always thought about it too, ever since you met me. But you need to be in control; you’re afraid of letting yourself go.” Those words were also true, and that was why they hurt.
As one, they rose, chairs falling to the floor in their haste to come to one another. They met in a panicked hug, their lips meeting in a frenzied haste, as they sought to forget their pain, to become one with the other, to rediscover each other after the lies they’d told each other, themselves.
It was Jane who finally pulled away, Lisbon coming away slightly more reluctantly. He took in a deep breath that soon caught in his throat.
“Jane...” So much she’d said, in the years they’d known each other, and yet so little. Suddenly everything had much deeper meaning. It was a question, a concern, and a communication of how much she cared-how much she’d always cared, how much she’d just realized she cared that she’d never known about.
“Please...can we at least finish the dinner first?” His voice threatened to break, like a storm cloud ready to rain.
“Jane...honestly. What is this about?” She was becoming seriously concerned about him-well, more than she already was.
“I tried to make the perfect day for you.” He refused to look at her, refused to even look in her direction. With a touch on his arm she drew him close to dance, his hand on her waist, her head on his shoulder.
“It has been a perfect day, and I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather share it with. But what triggered this? Why are we here, on this beautiful evening, Jane?”
He sighed deeply, the weight of the world on his shoulders. “It’s the anniversary, you know. Well, actually, it was yesterday. And it got me to thinking.”
When he didn’t continue, she took her head off its rest, looking up into his eyes. He smiled guardedly and began moving. He was a good dancer, but she could have guessed that.
“Red John, I’d thought, was the only reason to keep living. To kill that sick bastard, to let him feel the pain, and only eventually let him feel the sweet release of death...to torture and kill a man. That’s what I’d come down to.” His voice was harsh and invited no interruption. She felt him tense, imagined she could feel the hatred pouring through Jane’s body like a poison. He shook himself and continued. “I thought all night, and realized that I had another reason for living that I’d never even thought about before. You. And the others at CBI,” he acknowledged as an afterthought. “But you most of all.”
She smiled, feeling warmth fill her body. So she’d done some good after all.
“That’s when I realized that I must be pretty sick myself, that overwhelming hatred and only a vague sense of belonging were keeping me here. And then I did some research, and I discovered that I was being set up myself. And there is no way I am giving him what he wants.”
She frowned. “You lost me, Jane.”
“Red John is one in a long string of serial killers, all handing down the torch to the next generation. They pick one man that they think is capable of catching them, of playing their game, and kill the ones he cares about until he snaps.” She felt her stomach flop, and not just from the quick turn he’d executed.
“Don’t you see? This is a test, to see if I will find him. My wife and my child had to die because I am so very good at what I do. If I find him, and kill him out of hatred, I am meant to become him. And I refuse to play.” The hatred laced his voice like arsenic.
“Jane...” Lisbon couldn’t even form a sentence. That was so insane, diabolical even. “You don’t have to. Let the CBI handle it-I personally assure you that I will catch him. Just stay out of it...”
They stopped so suddenly that she wondered whether he’d frozen solid. He pulled away slightly and smiled sheepishly at her. “I couldn’t. You couldn’t catch him, and I want justice-or revenge, I’ve lost the ability to tell the difference anymore-so badly. It would eat me alive. And if I get involved again-if I even help catch him, I will be there to pull the trigger. I’m lost enough to know that.”
“I won’t let you, Jane.” She gave this promise with new purpose, wanting to help him, to spare him this.
He smiled again, only this time the smile was like a wolf’s, that of a predator. “I’m sorry, Lisbon. You couldn’t stop me. So I make the only move I can make, to get out of check, the move he won’t expect me to make.” Suddenly he was pulled away from her completely, a gun was in his hand, and the nightmare slowed time to a crawl.
“Don’t do anything stupid, please, Jane, oh please...” She knew that she was rambling, that she wasn’t making too much sense, but she needed to stop this, to save Jane from himself-he meant so much to her now.
“I’ve examined all the options. I don’t have any other choice. He’s got me boxed in, and he’s a great chess player.” His voice sounded reasonable, sane, but he’d had a break of insanity-just a brief one, and she could help him through it, she could...
“I’m just exhausted. I’ve been tired for so long, not just from lack of sleep but from still doing this, still doing this life thing when I don’t belong.” He looked worn through, suddenly not the smug, immaculate magician, but a disheveled man full of pain and loss.
“Jane, no!” She came at him, trying to get the gun out of his hand, knowing that she couldn’t just stand there anymore-she couldn’t just be an observer, not now. He easily knocked her aside, and she lay, slightly dazed, against the couch.
“I’m a bit scared, though. Blowing my brains out...I don’t think it will hurt, but I don’t know. And I don’t believe in an afterlife, just cease to exist, poof.” His voice had grown monotone, only a slight note of curiosity in the tone.
“Jane...” Despair crept into her voice. She looked awful, after the fight and the kiss, and she couldn’t help as the man she realized she loved was about to commit suicide.
To her surprise, he walked over to her, gently knelt by her and pulled her into a more comfortable position. “If you want...if you don’t want to leave me alone...you could do it with me.” He’d gone completely crazy. “I realize that I’m not giving you a very nice aftermath to clean up. Even if you do it, too, it’ll be left to Cho and Rigsby and Van Pelt. It’s the worst for the ones left behind.” His voice crept to a whisper as he leaned in toward her. “I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of her head, then rocked back on his heels, bringing up the gun. She couldn’t look away as he pulled the trigger and the blood flew over the carpet. A smile crossed his face as his body dropped. He was dead before he hit the ground, before the blood began staining the expensive carpet.
Tears streaming down her face, Lisbon pried the gun from Jane’s still warm but lifeless fingers, turning it over and over in her hands, allowing herself to cry as she never would until the world fell apart in front of her. In a moment of weakness, she pulled the gun to her heart and pulled the trigger too, falling into Jane’s lap, blood dribbling from her lips and getting his new clothing forever stained with memories of a tragedy, but she was beyond caring.
