Author's note
I thought about writing this story after watching The Mentalist latest episode, Fugue in Red.
You know, there is a part when Jane says to Lisbon: "You think I can't see what's going on here? You people, you... tiptoe, you're dancing around some... forgotten tragedy. I'm happy now. Just... just let me be happy".
I figured it would be interesting to see what would he do if he was given the opportunity to choose between remembrance and forgetfluness. This is how I'd like him to answer.
You can read this story on its own, or as a bridge between my Red Sky at Night and More than Words.
Enjoy.
Remembrance
"Still thinking about that woman, aren't you?"
Not that he really needed to ask. It was kind of obvious, since Lisbon had handled him the keys of her car without complaining, and now didn't seem to notice that Jane was driving a bit too fast – as he always did.
"It's just that… I can't understand. She doesn't care about discovering who tried to murder her. She seems quite… happy about that, in a way. It's a bit frightening, you know?"
"Well, it would make sense if you were in her shoes".
She turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"Doctors say that the blow she received on her head caused her a permanent amnesia, correct?"
"Yeah, but I still can't see what…"
"She doesn't remember anything about her past. Whatever happened to her before she met her murderer – I mean, the one who tried to murder her – it doesn't matter anymore. Her previous misery has disappeared. She can start a new life. She's free to be whoever she chooses to".
"How can you say she was unhappy before?"
"Come on, Lisbon. You saw her apartment. No photos, no personal effects, nothing that could remind her of her past. She was running away from her previous life. Even from herself, maybe. I think she kind of knows that, and she's glad that she cannot remember".
Lisbon was silent for a while. Jane simply waited for her to speak again.
"It's odd", she said at last, somewhat obscurely.
"Care to elaborate?"
"I mean, it's scary to think that something like that could happen. Forgetting everything. Even who you are. I don't think I would like that, not even if my life was a complete disaster".
There was a long pause. Jane could feel Lisbon's gaze on him, and knew exactly what she was going to ask.
"What about you?"
"Me… what?". He was just taking his time.
"What would you do if you could choose?"
"I don't think I'd like someone trying to kill me, Lisbon".
He smiled as she snorted. She would probably have punched him by now, if he wasn't driving.
"Jane, you know what I'm talking about. If you were given the opportunity to forget about everything. All of your life, up to now. Would you accept that offer?"
His mind wavered for a moment. Be free from his past. Erase the memory of what he had seen when he had opened that door – eight years ago. Dissolve the pain and guilt that – he knew – would haunt him for the rest of his life. No matter if Red John himself was now nothing more than a memory too.
How would it be to live a life free from the burden of the tragedy he himself had caused?
However… that would mean giving up all that he had ever cared for. As if it never existed. His family. Angela and Charlotte. But not just them.
There were also Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt. And, of course, Lisbon.
Lisbon who, at that moment, was sitting upright and stiff, her fists clenched and her gaze obstinately fixed outside the window.
In a flash he was aware that Lisbon was afraid. Afraid of what he might answer. Afraid that he'd rather forget about the people who – maybe despite themselves – actually cared for him. The people who gave him the closest thing to a family he had had for years.
He took her hand. "You know that I couldn't".
He was sure she was smiling now, even before he looked at her. Yet he didn't expect her eyes to be filled with tears.
He gently squeezed her hand, than withdrew his – with a slight awkwardness that he couldn't quite place.
"What do you say about ice cream? There's an ice cream shop right in front of us".
"Why not?", she agreed promptly.
Ten minutes later, as she took a spoonful of chocolate and cream from her oversized sundae, Lisbon remarked cheerfully: "I'm lucky that I don't suffer from memory loss".
"Really?", he teased. "Why?"
"Because I remember perfectly that's your turn to pay".
Jane laughed. Only Lisbon could look so pleased about a trifle like that.
