The Tale of the Red Dragon
Disclaimer: I don't own the show and I don't own the song and I obviously don't own Coldplay (how do you own a band?)
*A/N* This one was supposed to be a little lighter. Well, that didn't work out, just warning you, though I did try to squeeze a bit of hope in the last lines. And to anyone interested, the song mentioned is of course "Fix You" by Coldplay. Hope you'll enjoy it.
Night was creeping up on Sacramento, and an obvious exhaustion took over at the CBI headquarters.
Lisbon was sitting at her desk, he could see her through the gaps of the blinds, staring at her computer. Stuck, probably. They all were. Well, he wasn't, but since nobody would listen to him anyway, he had taken refuge on his couch and feigned sleep.
Some very sad, quiet music swept over to him from Van Pelt's computer. Something about lights guiding people home. Rubbish. He'd seen a lot of lights in the past nine years, and none of them had ever led him anywhere, and they had certainly never led him home because Patrick Jane didn't have a home, not any more.
He must have drifted off to sleep for a second or two because he could see his daughter, perfectly real and alive, sitting on a small-sized bed holding a fluffy teddy bear.
"Tell me a story, daddy. Please."
"Which one do you want to hear? How about the one with the shoe, what was the name again…"
"I know Cinderella, Mum's told me that one last week. Tell me a new one, daddy."
The moment was over as sudden as it had begun and he was back to staring at the office's ceiling.
It had been a while since he'd dreamed about Charlotte… his beautiful little girl.
"Well then, let's tell you a story, honey. I can't sleep anyway," he muttered and turned over on the sofa.
"What did you say, Jane?"
He waved an impatient hand at Van Pelt. "Nothing, I'm just telling a bedtime story."
The exchange of confused and worried glances that followed this answer went unnoticed by Jane.
"Once upon a time, there was a man… well, let's make him a king, they earn lots of money in dishonest ways, too… and he was very arrogant and a little stupid, you see? But he was married with the most beautiful woman in his kingdom, don't ask me how he swung that, and they had an amazing daughter. She was very brave and awfully clever.
But sadly, there was also a… a dragon living in his kingdom, hiding in the mountains, a big red dragon. And the king thought he was cleverer than the beast and made fun of him. He thought he was safe in his castle, told you he was a bit daft, the poor man. Anyway, one day when he came back from a hunt, he…" His voice faltered and ran his hand tiredly through his hair.
If he had turned around he would have noticed Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho eyeing him suspiciously, mouthing "who the hell does he think he's talking to?" and shaking their heads.
"...when he came back, he discovered that the… the red dragon had torn his castle into pieces and killed his family to punish the king for his words. The king realized how stupid he'd been and he swore to kill the dragon even though everyone said that was impossible. And for a long time, it did seem impossible… But then he met a princess from another kingdom, and she was hunting the dragon, too. They started working together. They became something like friends… it was complicated, see, because the king was so sad and he didn't want to make the princess sad, too… But he did anyway, I'm afraid… well, it was worth a try.
They came very, very close to the dragon several times, but every time he flew away. And the king knew he was putting his friend into terrible danger and he told her he wanted to hunt the dragon alone, but she stayed with him because she was too loyal for her own good. And because she was a little bit in love with the king, I think, but he never asked her because he was much too sad and too selfish to deserve her. Once or twice, the dragon took the princess with him and the king was terribly afraid he would lose her…"
It might have been a dreadful bedtime story, but it did serve its purpose. Jane could feel himself drifting off again.
"...but so far, he has… always managed to save her… Even though he's… not very good at it…"
"Did he get the dragon, daddy?" Charlotte was clutching her teddy even tighter.
"Not yet, sweetie, but he's working on it," he answered and smiled. "He's very close." He stroked over her shining blonde curls and tugged the blankets around her. "Now sleep." A light kiss on her forehead and his usual whispered words you are safe, you are loved and you are wise and he was almost through the door when he heard Charlotte ask:
"Why do you always tell such sad stories, daddy?"
Because you're dead, Charlotte, and daddy won't ever tell you stories again and he'll never know how you'll look like when you're older.
He didn't tell her that. There are things you don't tell a six year-old, and the fact she's dead is one of them.
He knew it and that was bad enough.
"Because Mum's the better storyteller, love. Sweet dreams," he muttered and switched off the light. "And I promise you the king will get the dragon."
When he woke up, the team had already left. Only underneath Lisbon's door there was still a ray of light gleaming across the floor, flooding towards him like a golden ocean. The sight of it conjured a faint smile on his lips.
Maybe he'd been wrong.
Maybe lights did lead you home sometimes.
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