Author's note: Written for the Paint It Red August 2012 Monthly Challenge. Prompt: "Sine qua non."
Part 1 - Patrick Jane
He had fallen flat on his face – the pain in his chest hardly allowing him to breathe.
His enemy lay just a few inches out of his reach. Yet he was sure that the other man was no longer breathing.
Red John was dead.
This wasn't just the closure of a decade-long chase. Over the years his need for revenge had mingled with slightly different reasons.
The urge to protect the people he'd come to care about. The yearning to be free from the burden of his past.
Red John's downfall had been the one condition for him to be finally honest – with himself as well as with others.
"That thing you said before you shot me – what did you mean?"
There was no way he could have told her the truth at the time. There were things he had to do first.
(And yet he still recalled his half-confession to her right before barging into the room where Gupta had been hiding. Though his main purpose had been that of distracting the killer, his brain had found it easier to use the truth instead of coming out with some elaborate lie.)
A soft smile touched his lips at the thought of Lisbon. His Lisbon.
He'd developed an unexpected fondness for her exactly five minutes after their first meeting. (That was probably the same moment when she decided she wanted to shoot him.)
It was hard to pinpoint the time when their friendship had turned into something deeper.
After Vegas he'd spent hours in her office – watching her over the rim of his teacup. Wondering how things could go between them if Red John was eventually out of their way.
(He'd used to say when instead of if, but his latest failure had left him far less confident than he'd been before.)
In a way it had been about her all the time.
When he'd gone to that miserable excuse for a date with Kristina. When he'd kissed Erica of all women. Perhaps even when he'd slept with Lorelei – though that one had had a lot to do with his eagerness to get closer to Red John.
Deep inside himself he knew he'd just been testing whether he could ever be ready for finally moving on.
Well, none of these things actually mattered anymore. For he'd soon be joining his enemy in death.
He hoped she'd be willing to forgive him one last time.