A/N: I apologize that my muse decided to run away when it comes to The Mentalist, but I believe that this story could potentially make up for it. Here's to hoping (and thanks for reading, reviews are always welcome too)!
P.S. This was written before the finale just in case you're confused, think I'm confused, or just curious.
Disclaimer: I own nothing when it comes to The Mentalist (other than DVDs).
Relationship Ever Distracting
He is sleeping on her couch when the call comes in. A body has been found in San Francisco that has all the markings of a Red John killing. He can feel her hesitation when it comes to waking him. He doesn't make it easy on her either by showing her the ringing of the phone woke him. No, she needs to do this. It's her job anyway.
She does eventually wake him. Her voice is soft and soothing in that telling way. He just knows when a Red John killing crosses their path. She becomes sweeter in a way that makes him want to scream. Her focus leaves the killer and settles solely on him. He does not want to be the center of attention. He wants to find the bastard that took his life away from him. She instructs him to get into the car with her. That doesn't comfort him in the least.
No one bothers him once he gets to the body. Cho and Rigsby talk to the local LEOs. Van Pelt and Lisbon stay on the opposite side of the body from him. Lisbon only steps toward him when he walks over to the perfectly shaped smiley on the wall. The blood smile taunts him in a way that nothing else ever could. He stares at it much longer than is necessary for a proper evaluation.
"Jane," Lisbon calls to him. He is lost in world that only he knows the roads to. His mind is something he cannot escape. It takes him back all those years to the day his world collapsed and he was forced to his knees. It is his fault his life is reduced to chasing a mad man. It is all he has left to live for anymore.
"Jane, is it him?" Lisbon asks from somewhere behind him. He manages to pull himself back into the present. He slips a lazy smile on his face in a vain attempt to cover his anger and frustration. Lisbon frowns at him. His features morph themselves into a grotesque expression of pure hatred. She takes a step back. He usually doesn't let himself go this far.
"It's him," he answers her question quietly. He takes his time scanning the rest of the room looking for any sign of a mistake. Red John will make one eventually, everyone does. Finding the mistake takes cunning. If it is here he will find it, and hide the discovery from those that have come to trust him most. It's not nearly as difficult a decision as it should be.
He is angry when he snaps at Van Pelt. The younger woman gives him a piece of her mind right back. The local LEOs just stand watching, their mouths agape. The words pouring out of his mouth are uncontrolled and harsh. All of them are aimed at the co-worker in front of him. If he is allowed to continue for much longer he will break her resolve. Emotions will no longer matter because he has the power to destroy them.
The odd thing is that Lisbon does not scream at him, nor does she reprimand him in any way. In fact she doesn't say anything. She simply watches the exchange until she deems it necessary to intercede. A whispered "Patrick," is the only word to leave her mouth. She forces him to regret the words he said to Van Pelt with the utterance of his own name.
Rigsby refuses to talk to him the next day. Cho uses even shorter phrases around him. Van Pelt will not stay in the same room with him by herself. He wants to apologize, deep down, but catching Red John is much more important. He hasn't lost all humanity, but it is buried deep. It doesn't matter anyway. After what he plans to do to Red John, he won't have any friends anyway.
"Jane, I need to see you," Lisbon tells him later that day. Like every other time he dutifully follows her to the desk she has claimed as her own. They have been forced to stay in San Francisco for a few days. Her desk is partitioned off from the others by stacks of boxes. He notices that they seem to be strategically placed to block his view of the room, but not hers. He takes the seat across from hers. He knows she is agitated about something.
"If you can't control yourself, I will have to take you off this case," she tells him. Her words are like a knife in his heart. She is trying to take away the only thing he has left. His anger rushes to the surface with the force of a tidal wave. She has no right to do this to him.
"You won't," he tells her smugly. His expression is borderline murderous. Sometimes he forgets that he actually doesn't intimidate her.
"I won't?" she asks. Her voice takes on a smug tone of its own. They have come to know each other too well for his liking. She doesn't understand him, but she has learned to predict his movements. She knows how he will react better than even he does sometimes. Reading him is a necessity in her world; understanding him is dangerous.
"You need me to solve this," he says it as if it is a fact, not an opinion. He brings out the scariest face he can muster. His once handsome face becomes a disgusting betrayal of the turmoil spinning within. She doesn't react to this sudden change. He is upping the stakes, but she will come out the victor.
"I need you? I can solve this myself, Jane. I never needed you," she spits at him. Her anger is palpable now. Her normally striking features have turned ugly in her anger. Her green eyes lash out at him in an attempt to pin him to the chair he now occupies. He stands in defiance. She follows quickly after. Any other person; criminal or friend, would be shaking with the depth of the emotion coming from those eyes. It doesn't matter though. He cares for no one.
"You can't solve this yourself. You never would have gotten this far without me," he sneers. She storms around her desk in retaliation so she can better intimidate him. She leans in towards him, forcing him to stand his ground or back up. It doesn't matter that she has to look up at him. She can see the uncontrollable amounts of self-pity swirling just beneath the surface behind his eyes. It's a wonder he can actually function.
"No, Jane, I do not need you and neither does this team. We let you stay out of respect. The minute you stop respecting us back, You. Are. Gone," she states. She emphasizes the last three words with a pointed finger. He is honestly surprised at the amount of hostility coming from her. He doesn't let it show though. He only continues to stare back at her.
"Your case closed record will plummet," he says nonchalantly. She laughs at his sheer idiocy. She has long since stopped caring about her record. The day that she fires him will be the day she leaves the CBI. It doesn't matter; no one else will want him anyway. She will destroy her career to save her colleagues.
"Get over yourself, Jane," she finally tells him. He laughs humorlessly. It has never been about him. It is about avenging the lives of the two people that mattered the most to him; that still matter the most. Moving on was never part of the plan. It will never be part of the plan. Letting Lisbon get this close is bad enough. He got over himself the day he found red on his bedroom wall.
The moment comes to an end faster than he wanted it too. He can see how tired she is. Confronting him is one of the most arduous tasks she has to do. They find their way back to their respective chairs. She pulls out some paperwork in an attempt to let him know that this argument is over. He sighs before he gets up. He needs to keep Lisbon on his good side. After all, he needs her to find Red John.
Later that day, he apologizes to Van Pelt in a manner that comes off as heartfelt. Everyone believes him, and his place on the team is restored. In a sense he is forgiven. This is not a day he wants to repeat any time soon, so he quietly stores it in the back of his mind. Containing his anger is his greatest weapon. They need to believe that he is healing in order to stay. He is a good actor; he's had years of practice.
Armed with a cup of coffee and his signature tea he walks to the desk that Lisbon occupies. She glances up at him as he places his peace offering on her desk. She raises an eyebrow at him. He is far from forgiven. She is the most elusive until her decision is made. Forgiveness is a deliberation for her and it must be earned. Yet, he can't find the energy to care.
Back in Sacramento, he is back in their good graces. It is all he needs to complete his goal. Red John means everything and nothing. The case doesn't lead him toward his goal, but it does get him a step closer. Every case brings him closer. That is all that matters. Personal relationships are not a priority. He has a much more dominant agenda. He wants revenge; he can't afford to be distracted.