DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Mentalist" or any of its characters.
RATING: 'T' for some profanities.
DISILLUSIONMENT
When he had first joined the CBI, he had been naïve. It was a heady feeling, akin to a childlike excitement. The euphoria that he was finally getting somewhere.
Throughout his childhood his drunkard of a father had kept telling him what a worthless son he was, about how he was of no use to him.
And in all of those times he had thought, "I will show him. One day I will be better than him".
Looking back, he was not so sure.
After serving as an arson specialist, he had expected his time at the CBI to bring him success. Glory. Commendations. Honour.
He had made friends, discharged his duties honourably. He also got on reasonably well with his taciturn teammate, the roguish consultant and his empathetic boss.
But what he hadn't expected was...
A tall, red haired woman, beautiful and passionate.
Longing after her like a faithful swain (or was it swine?)
To throw himself into a relationship with her after holding back for what seemed like forever.
Stolen kisses and trysts.
Searching gazes.
Sunday brunches.
The occasional walk in the park, holding hands.
Nights of passion, interspersed with the heavy moans and panting of intermingling bodies.
The sheer cruelty of it all when she put a stop to it, albeit reluctantly.
Returning to that phase of painful longing before their relationship, made more tortuous by the fact that he had known her. Kissed her. Loved her.
A couple of dates with some attractive women who ceased to hold his attention for more than an hour.
The agony when she moved on, with a man worthy of her love. Or so it had seemed at the time.
Watching them from a distance, he couldn't understand. Had she forgotten him that easily?
The news of her engagement. More heartbreak.
Perhaps he would have come to terms with it if she had been happy. But she was not.
Her fiancé had been nothing but a smooth talking devil in a suit. He had wrung her heart, leaving nothing but darkness in her eyes.
This darkness now seemed to be a permanent fixture in his life as well.
To see that the people he cared about were battling their own personal demons cast him in the shadows too.
His boss with her alcoholic father and her non-existent childhood. (Boy, could he relate to that!)
His tight-lipped partner who couldn't confide in him even after working together for four years.
The consultant with his superficial charm, hiding his sorrow behind his carefully maintained facade.
And now this darkness had pervaded her soul as well.
If this wasn't enough, there was also the relentless pursuit of a serial killer; long and excruciating hours on the job, and the absolute dejection at the end of it all.
As he lay on the bed in the arms of his new girlfriend, Rigsby wondered.
His work and his personal life; both seemed to be going nowhere.
Perhaps his father had been right.
Perhaps he was a useless son of a bitch after all.
Author's Note: So this was my attempt to delineate how Rigsby feels after his stint with the SCU. The years have been harsh, and it must have left some mark on him as well.
It's the first time I am attempting anything with this particular character, so please tell me how I did. Reading it makes me think it is a little lame. But still:)