This is not a Mentalist story. Sorry. Fanfiction made me pick a sub-category and Jane featured more in this dream sequence than any of the other TV. show characters so I listed it under the Mentalist. I plan on getting a Fictionpress account so I can put my original stories there since I'm having more creativity with my own things. So, until then, this story is here.

Ok, if you know me, you know I have some weird dreams. So last night, my brain created this magical fan-gasm and I wanted to share it with you guys. Aww, don't you feel special. :3 By the way, I don't own anything that you recognize in this.

I was standing in front of a house. It was a modest house of average size that was surrounded by trees everywhere scantily clad in leaves of Halloween colors since it was the beginning of fall. Apples and spices with hints of crunched up leaves weaved its way through the air and all around myself and the person behind me. Suddenly, the scene went dark and I could feel hot breath at the base of my neck going up to my ear.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

I never speak. In my dreams, I don't speak and this wasn't an exception.

I nod at his question as I feel the hands that had blocked my view of the house in all of its glory move again to unveil a different scene in front of me. It was the same house except, instead of nature and a sense of ease, around it was a dreary sky and dead sidewalk that supported no signs of life. Stains of rust and mildew decorated the outdoor paint, changing its colors in various spots. Dread filled my every bone.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

I shake my head furiously.

"Well, of course you'd think that. You haven't watched the wonderful things the house has over its lifetime. Their meanings are lost to you."

His hands hover over my cheeks, traveling down my neck and rest softly on top of my shoulders. The breath goes away as I feel instead a chin on top of my head. I huff. Because, even in my dreams, I'm dwarfed by everything and everyone around me.

"How about I show you?! Then, maybe you might remember.."

His voice, although not right by ear anymore, still sounds as loud as if it had never moved. I can feel his smile although I can't see it. I shrug. I do not know who this man is so what can I do to stop him?

The weight on my shoulders returns to my eyes as I am left in the dark a second time. When I open my eyes, I am alone in a simple room with a bed, dresser, and desk by the bed with a lamp on it. Evening light shines in through the windows on both sides of the bed. It is warm from the heat of the sun, just the way I like it. A door in front of me opens and I see Patrick Jane from 'The Mentalist' moving towards me holding out a quilted blanket of soft blues and lavenders. His curly blonde hair sways with his steps and his blue eyes shine of happiness. I watch him as he swings it around my shoulders. It engulfs me. The blanket is literally like a hut being held up by itself, the extra fabric gathering at my feet.

Jane smiles down at me, judging me. One side of his mouth quirks as if chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"You don't like it."

My eyes widen. The piece of fabric was beautiful and finely crafted from the seemingly perfect seems and high-quality fibers. Who wouldn't love it?

"Oh, I see. You just didn't expect it. Well, I saw that you might be exhibiting the signs of a cold, which is to be expected since it is the season of cultivations of bacteria and viruses, and bought you something that will hopefully help prevent such a development."

My eyes trail downwards to stare at my bare feet. My toes barely stuck out from all of the fabric on the floor. The gesture was comforting and brought a slight blush to my face. I was still not used to gifts of such luxury even if it was just a blanket. I felt two fingers grab my chin, lifting my head up to look Jane straight in the eyes. The blush grew deeper.

"See? Your face is already beginning to redden. Was I too late? Do you already feel sick?"

The smile on his face only made said blush turn into a full on red that spread down onto my neck and collarbone. Snatching my chin from him, I squinted at his amused face and ran to the bed, curling into the fetal position and huddling up like a caterpillar does in a cocoon, except my cocoon was a finely-crafted blanket from the person I was trying to hide from. I heard him chuckle.

"Oh where oh where has my little elf gone?"

Curling up even tighter, my grip on the blanket never loosened. I put all of my effort into keeping my blanket closed and listening to his footsteps, which I had just realized I couldn't hear anymore. Slightly panicked, all I could hear was my fast-pounding heartbeat in my chest, in my ears, in my head.

But, slowly, I started to feel the cold of the bed. I could no longer see the slight yellowed rays of the sunlight through the pores of the blanket. Lifting the blanket from my head, sounds from all around me flooded my senses. Horns. Chatter. Engines. Gone was the fluttering of the wind through the leaves in the trees and the soft chirps from neighboring birds. I moved to the window. There were cars, semis, bicyclists, and walkers. The disconnect I had felt when I had seen the house in this environment was dwarfed by the sudden dread in my heart when I had realized I was no longer in the beautiful house but in the second house that paled in comparison.

I found my way outside. Stumbling around, I tried to find any marker that I knew that would hopefully hint at where I was but could find none. Turning around to go back into the house, I was pushed onto the ground. I tried to get my bearing but was hit once again and tumbled down to the sidewalk. Angry tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. Why was I alone? Wasn't Jane just here with me? Where had he gone?

Pulling myself up, I moved to the wall so it could support me. I glanced around and saw a red machine with a keypad that a few people were at. Maybe that could tell me where I'm at. Mimicking the people in line, I waited just as they had until I was in front of the machine. I pressed the buttons as if it were a natural thing and found myself writing an address and pressed enter.

'Error'

I tried it again.

'Error'

Maybe a third try...?

"Hey! This is a redbox, not a mailbox! Stop putting in your address and get a movie! I have a date waiting for me!"

An elderly Asian lady dressed in gaudy jewelry and clean-pressed clothed turned from slightly irritated to full-blown angry as I stared blankly at her, dismissing her threat, and turned around, only to enter the address once again.

'Error'

"Why you..!"

"Oh here you are! I was looking all over for you and I find you here? Come on, we need to get going."

Suddenly, a hand appeared on my shoulder, gripping me tightly, and led me away from the short-tempered Asian. This man, as I assessed him, was actually Dr. Daniel Pierce from 'Perception'. The messy brown hair and chocolate-colored brown eyes moving every which way as I allowed him to maneuver me until we were in a place I still didn't recognize. His arm around my shoulder kept me slightly warm from the chilly wind that whipped through the streets but, as he offered me his jacket and slipped it over me, one of his hands lowered from the collar of the jacket to my collarbone and rested against a cold metal. I set my hand under his to touch the metal as well.

It was a necklace, a locket. My eyes began to water again, the reason unknown to me this time. It was circular and about an inch in diameter, bronze in color. I glanced up at Pierce. The sadness in his eyes surprised me. Shifting away from him, my knees began to weaken and I collapsed on the ground, curling myself in the corner of a little nook in the wall. I ignored all of the stares I was receiving from my actions but I didn't care. This locket was awakening emotions from my subconscious that I didn't even know I knew.

"What is the matter dearie?"

A Scottish voice found its way past the crowd. I didn't even have to look to know who this character was; Mr. Gold from 'Once Upon A Time' was an unmistakable character with his chin-length dirt-blonde hair and well-informed eyes.

I shook my head at him, huddling closer.

"Now, I can't help you if you won't even let me know what's wrong."

A few seconds passed before I showed him the necklace over my shoulder, still huddled over and not moving from my position. He hummed.

"A beautiful locket. Have you tried opening it?"

I returned it back in front of myself and… it opened. On one side was a paper. Words that, no matter how many times I read it, I could not understand were script on this paper. On the other side was another set of words unreadable, although it was English. My mood seemed to darken at the frustration of this lack-of ability.

"You can not read it."

I shook my head.

"Would you like to know what it says, Dearie?"

I nodded. Gripping the necklace in my hand, I closed my eyes tight, trying to remember anything about the necklace. The sounds around me vanished and silence was returned. I could feel body-heat from behind me. I stood up. Attempting to turn around, hands were put on my temples fixing me to face forward. A breath-taking scenery around me once again: fields of wheat that appeared the color of gold surfed around us in waves similar to the ocean and its movement, dawn-colored sky and light reflected off of the morning dew, the last hooting of an owl before it goes to bed.

"Would you wait for me?"

I nodded without question.

"Would you save yourself for me?"

I nodded without question.

"Would you marry me?"

I nodded without question.

His presence began to leave me. I turned around and nuzzled myself in his arms that had wrapped around me just as soon as I had him. I kept my eyes closed. If he wished not to be seen, then I would not see him. I could only wait until he was ready to be seen.

The saddest thing about this dream is that, when I woke up, I was actually hugging myself. Even my subconscious knows I'm lonely and in need of some contact with guys. :(

This really served my purpose of a need to write and post something. If you want to review, you can. But if you came to insult my dream, tell me the flaws of this, or insist this was anything but a dream, leave. I don't want your negativity. It was a dream and anything can happen in it.