Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended, no money gained, and I'm way too poor to be confused with Bruno Heller anyway.
AN: It's October already! As a NaNoWriMo enthusiast, I couldn't stand the wait and so here I am with a character/world study I hope will help me kick my November project's gears in place (which is Mentalist also). The challenge is as follow:
- One prompt a day, from today to October 31
- Has to write one chapter of minimum 500 words each day
- Each chapter has to be written on the fly, on the day of the prompt
- No chapter can be planned more than 24h in advance
- Only minimum editing can be made after publication (grammar, typos, sentences order to correct the flow, etc.)
So without further ado, I present you...
Chapter 01 - Late
They drive in silence.
As the sky's colours change from light blue to yellow, then from yellow to deep orange, and the tension only grows between them as they get closer to Jane's family house, the sudden spluttering and crashing of his old engine comes as an unwelcome surprise. For a hundred miles the car still works and everything seems fine – but then white smoke escapes with a hiss from under the hood and the car comes to a shuddering stop, right in the middle of the road.
With a muttered curse, Jane gets out, opens the hood – and nearly gets burned by an enormous amount of oil-scented steam.
"Something fried in there," says Lisbon, standing behind him. "It's alright, we can still get there in time – I'll call for assistance and –
- No! Don't call. I don't want anybody with me tonight."
He closes back the hood, and she can see the muscles in his jaw clenching with anger before he bangs his fist on top of the car. For a moment they stay silent, side by side, watching the sun set – it's really quite beautiful – until Jane picks up his shotgun and starts walking along the road without a word, and Lisbon thinks back on his last sentence, finally understanding what he was implying.
"You – you were about to leave me behind?"
She runs after him and grabs his shoulder, blazing with fury.
"I can't believe you would do that! What was your plan, stop on the side and force me to get out at gunpoint?"
The look he gives her is haunted and glowering, and frankly scares her a little – enough so that she lets go of him.
"Isn't the point moot anyway?
- You son of a bitch!"
That he doesn't even bother denying his plans makes her want to hit him, but then she realises the anger she sees on his face is just part of his thundering look – even when his whole features are frozen in murderous focus, his knuckles are white on the cardboard roller and his shoulders are slumping with defeat.
He doesn't believe they'll get there in time.
"Jane," she calls after him. "We can still – if I call assistance from local PD, they'll help."
He stops, turns around to face her, and she can read despair in his eyes, clear as day.
"No police. I have to do this alone, Lisbon, you can't just – you can't just stop me. Not now. I need to do this.
- You do this, and you'll throw your life away!
- Don't you understand? I don't have a life! Red John took it from me. The only thing left for me now is to take his. And I will. Tonight."
She gasps at him as he turns away and walks with renewed energy – nearly running now, as if to put as much distance between them as possible. Because he knows – he has to know – the effect those words have on her.
The sky is blood red, and Jane is running away.
And this – this is the last straw. He wants to run, fine – she won't be running after him any more. He wants to throw away his life, he wants to commit murder, he wants to – to –
She rubs a spot between her eyes and sighs.
Of course she'll run after him.
Again.
Always.
Because she doesn't need saving, but Jane does. Jane always needed saving from himself.
A car passes by. She ignores it, goes back to the eggshell blue contraption stranded on the road, opens the hood again – and groans. This thing isn't going to be moving any time soon. She'll have to find another solution. As she picks up her phone to dial 9-1-1, she sees another car coming on the road – and realises, this is it.
This is the solution she needs.
The driver isn't very happy to get booted out of his vehicle – but at this point, she doesn't care. The night is falling quickly and Jane is still running alone on the side of the road. Who knows what could happen to him if she doesn't get to him quickly. If he gets hit by a random car or even, Heavens forbid, Red John's car, she'll never forgive herself. And if that means she has to give him implicit permission...
... then so be it.
She drives carefully – too carefully perhaps, and all the while doubting herself, doubting her decision. But when she finally sees him on the side of the road, sees his curls coloured white by the lights of her car, sees him panting slightly in his sweat-clad suit and his shoulders still slumped in defeat – she knows this is the only choice left, the only one she can make.
God help her, the only one she ever made.
There's a flash of hope in his eyes when she stops near him – then astonishment colours his features when he recognises her. He hesitates slightly before he opens the door, and stays there, all the while watching her guardedly. She sighs.
"Get in."
Swallowing, she feels a heavy lump in her throat – but there's no turning back now.
"We have a serial killer to stop."
Tomorrow's prompt: Storm