Ok, So this is super short but I could not get the idea out of my head!
The mentalist is not mine.
Happy Reading!
OXOXOX
You find him on the floor, covered in blood. It's not his. You don't touch him. Not even to check his pulse, you don't ask him if he is ok. You don't want to know the answer. You step back as the paramedics shine I light in his empty blue eyes, wrap him in a blanket, put him on a stretcher. One of them asks you if you are family and it takes you a minute to form an answer.
"No." (not anymore)
You watch as a agent who is not you pulls a white sheet over the face of the man that has ended so many lives. That man doesn't look evil. He looks dead. And lonely. Later you will find out that he is a father.
He is out of the hospital in an hour. He is OK. Not even a scratch. It is not you who arrests him. It is Cho. And you watch the interrogation from behind the one way glass. Not as a detective, but as a loved one watching behind a mirror that only works if you are standing in the right spot. You lean your forehead against the glass, with your hands on either side of your shoulders. And then he stands up walks right towards you put up his hand that are ringed in cold steel, and matches his fingers to yours. (Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the bravest of them all?)
Not you.
OXOXOX
Thanks for reading!