Disclaimer: I do not own the mentalist! Nor do I get money from this.
Author's Note: Okay really kind of weird oneshot this, a bunch of drabbles about promises. We had to write a poem in school about breaking promises and of course it made me think of the mentalist so I wrote a oneshot when I got home and decided to upload now the laptop's working. So read on...
"I promise you I am always going to be there."
The words floated to his mind as he looked at his Mom, her vibrant self had been replaced by a skeletal imitation, her luminous skin had waxed to become basically a white sheet stretched across her jagged bones, her long golden locks had all fallen away, her blazing blue eyes had faded to become these pitiful pale things he stared at and her smile was as dead as she was.
He watched as the men moved about thier house, entered her room uninvited. They didn't even knock, they just barged in and grabbed his mother before bundling her into an ugly, thick black bag. They started to carry her out of the house and he followed.
Patrick watched as they drove away with his mother, one of them stayed with him to wait for social services. His eyes never strayed from the road his mother had just been driven up. She was gone and somehow he knew she wouldn't be coming back. She'd promised to be there, to not leave but she was gone. She had simply abandoned him. She had died.
"I promise you she will live."
He thought of his father's words as he stared at the tombstone, it was a nice grave. Expensive marble with a lovely inscription while the grave itself had a beautiful variety of flowers laid out in memorial of her.
His Dad had promised them it would work, he had promised the family she would be okay. Patrick had known it was a lie, but he'd still gone along with it. The girl had died believing she'd recover, her family had watched their precious child die thinking at any second she'd be okay.
It made him feel disgusted with himself that he'd gone along with it, considering his own mother's death it was particulary bad, and that his Dad had known and still made him do this. He knew she would have died anyway but it wasn't the same, he pictured their grinning faces as they waited for the tumors to shrink all the while being completely oblivious to the fact it was a con, a lie.
He knew he was a conman, like his Dad but that didn't mean he had to what his Dad said. He wasn't going to, unlike his seemingly heartless father he did actually some form of moral conciouncess and he didn't like it tainted with the blood of this girl. Somethings were going to change.
"I promise you I'll keep you safe."
That's a promise he himself had broken, he had promised his wife, he had vowed to her on their wedding day he would keep her safe. That's what husbands did, they protected the woman they loved.
But no, he had gone and done the exact opposite. He had mocked one of the most nororious serial killers on national television for the sake of what? Money? Ratings? The rush he got from his show? All of those things put together could not compete with the lives of his family, it was like comparing a grain of sand to a bars of pure gold.
Patrick stared up at the bloody face painted forever onto his wall and his memory. She had even warned him not to do it, she had wanted him to quit but no he hadn't. He may not be the one who held the knife but it was still his fault and his broken promise.
He'd done everything he possibly could to keep her happy and safe save the one thing she had so desperately desired. Had he given her that one thing she'd be alive, lying beside him in their bed as they talked about planning their daughter's sixth birthday party.
He glanced at the gold band wrapped permanently around his finger, a symbol of eternal love, an object binding you to the vows you make on wedding days. Vows that he loved her, vows to be faithful, vows to protect her. Now he decided the ring represented a new vow. Revenge.
"I promise to stop you from killing Red John."
Patrick stood over the corpse of his family's killer, he was smiling insanely. He had done it, he had got his revenge. Lisbon had been wrong, Lisbon hadn't been able to stop him, she'd failed.
He had heard before that revenge didn't always live up to your expectations, he didn't want to believe it but... looking at the bloody body and the crimson knife he held in his red right hand he found his smile wavering, flickering like a dying candle.
He had butchered a human being, a murder but still a person. They had had more than enough evidence to arrest Red John, he could have gone to jail for the rest of his life at least. But instead he had taken his life and it didn't help at all. His family were still dead. He was still a murderous monster. The only thing different was he had betrayed the best friend he'd ever had, the woman he secretly loved, his boss.
Tears streamed unabashed down his face as he waited for the inevitable arrival of the CBI, his team, his friends. He was sobbing by the time Lisbon arrived, she would have to be the first to arrive. He expected, wanted, her to yell at him but she didn't. She silently took the knife from his quivering hand and told him to go home and get cleaned up. Fast.
"I promise you I'm telling the truth."
Patrick watched her sitting in the Hightower's office, watched her lie. She talked about going into the room and finding Red John already murdered with the culprit gone, she talked about the murder weapon and how it had never been found. Lies.
She talked about how Jane had never been anywhere near the building and never been told Red John's true name. She talked about how the file had never gone missing and how he had never stolen it to find the address of the serial killer. Lies.
Patrick wasn't sure whether Hightower realized she was lying or not, the same went for thr team. Lisbon could go to jail for what she'd done, hiding evidence, lying on record to her boss after promising to lie. She lied for him, she broke the very laws she enforced and worshipped for him, she risked her career and her freedom for him.
Yet she avoided him, made sure she was never alone with him for a single second and the looks she gave him... disspointment didn't even begin to describe it, her eyes made him feel more ashamed than he ever had of anything in his entire life. She looked at him like a was a total stranger or someone she no longer knew or even recognized. Maybe she was right.
"I promise you I'm fine."
That's the lie he and Lisbon both said to the team whenever they commented on the fact they were both so quiet and solemnn all the time. Their usual banter was replaced by awkward silences and polite remarks.
Patrick was kind and let her drive to interview the suspect, attempts to strike up conversation were rejected even thanking her only gained him a glare and an order to shut up. Both remained in low spirits as they reached the suspect's house but he wasn't in.
Heading back to the car they saw him striding up the path, Lisbon called out that they were CBI and needed to talk to him. The suspect tensed and pulled a gun firing it madly at them, Jane leaped out of the way behind the car with Lisbon who returned fire.
The sound of bullets stopped and they went over to the newly deceased suspect, killed by one of Lisbon's bullets. He looked at her and noticed how pale she seemed, he asked her if she was okay and in answer she promised him she was fine. She lied.
"I promise..."
No sooner had she spoken did she fall to the ground bleeding from a gunshot to her side. Blood spilled and he saw her struggling not to look in pain but clearly she was in a bad way. Frightened tears fell from his eyes as he called for help on his cell and tried to put pressure on the wound.
Patrick screamed at her drooping eyelids to stay awake, he screamed at her to live over and over, crying that he loved her and he didn't want her to die. Not now, not like this. He was shaking with tears as he attempted to keep the pressure on the wound, she was much calmer as she asked him if he really did love her.
A wave of agony bolted through him in the shape of a bullet, the suspect's brother shot him then ran. Jane crumpled to the ground beside Lisbon gasping as she was to breath, trying to force the pain away and his eyes open. He told her to promise to live and she told him the same.
Turning their heavy heads to the side they looked each into the other's loving eyes and smiled slightly as Lisbon gripped his hand tightly. Seconds dragged like hours as they made themselves breath despite the dark blotches trying to consume their visions. Remaining conciouss was not possible for much longer, sirens echoed in the distance.
Eyelids closed in union and at the same time their sentance trailed off unfinished.
"I promise..."