Yay for "The Mentalist" fanfiction!

I really hope people out there like this story. I'm not sure where the idea came from, it just kind of appeared. *shrug*

I'm in the process of writing another story at the moment, so there's no telling how often I'll be able to update. Just know that it will be ASAP.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable in this story. If I did, I would be living it up in California! : )

Chapter One - Into the Darkness

My head is pounding. Like a jackhammer. It won't stop.

"Stop! NO!"

I try to blink my eyes open, but they feel heavy. So heavy. And my head won't stop pounding.

I pry my eyes open, only to see a giant black space with small speckles of light dashing across the surface. The sky. At night.

"Nightie-night…"

Flickers of...something...run through my brain, but I lose them as soon as I realize they're there.

Where am I?

I feel a jolt of panic. I don't know where I am. Worse than that, I don't know who I am. Or how old. Or what my favorite food is. I don't know anything.

"Hey!"

A bright light glares in my vision for a moment. I groan and try to roll away from the horrible sensation. As I do, giant spikes of pain jolt up my body, and a strangled scream bursts out of me.

Footsteps pound on the ground, rushing toward me. Two men lean over me. One of them, a smaller but fit Asian man, rolls me back onto my back. When his hand touches my shoulder, I get another odd glimpse of that...something...I felt earlier.

"Scream, and you die…"

Fear jolts through me. I don't like men. They hurt me. These people will hurt me.

"I will kill your family...your mother….your father….if they aren't already dead…."

"No!" My voice is scratchy, and hoarse, as though it has been overused far too many times. I lash out with my foot catching the other in the gut as he squats down next to me. My kick hardly lands, but it shocks him enough to knock him off balance for a moment.

I roll over, trying to crawl away, but a sharp pain in my knee stops me. I gasp, curling over.

The Asian one moves next to my head, examining my eyes. "When do the EMT's get here?" he asked tensely.

"ETA's about three minutes." The one I kicked estimated, looking a little disgruntled.

I feel shaky, and my head feels very light, and floaty.

"She's...into...shock." One of their voices echoes into my hearing. Nausea bubbles up in my stomach, lurching up my throat. I turn over to the side and vomit. The men shout.

I retch and empty my stomach, and then I feel tears sting my eyes. I still feel sick. My leg still hurts. I'm still shaking. I'm still scared. And my head. Still. Freaking. Hurts.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Well, I will hurt you far worse if you ever try to escape."

"Please." I rasp. "Just let me go. Let me go."

The Asian man puts a hand on my forehead. "She's burning up. Where are those EMTs?!" He exclaims in frustration.

Just then, a piercing siren shrieks through the air, coming to a halt next to us. I lift my free hand, the one not trapped under me, to cover my ear. Tears leak out of my eyes, and I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

More people around me. Some grab my wrist, pulling it away from my face. Their hand touches the old burn mark on the tender inner skin, and I hiss and try to pull my hand away.

The other man sucks in a quick breath. "Cho…" he breathed.

"Yeah…" The Asian man agrees grimly. "I saw it."

A blond woman leans over my head, and shines a bright light into each of my eyes. I whimper and pull away. Patiently, the woman takes my chin in her hands and pulls my face back up. She examines the rest of my face meticulously, before standing.

"What do we got?" She says.

"One broken front rib on the right side; watch for internal bleeding." A man in a red jacket lists off. "Possible fracture of the front rib on the left side, severe bruising in multiple places, torn ACL muscle in right knee."

The woman nods. "Regular heartbeat, irregular breathing patterns." Two men set a stretcher down beside me.

My vision gets spotty for a moment, and I grab out with my hand for something to ground me. Something real. Something that makes sense. I feel the jacket arm of someone. It doesn't matter who.

"Ready, set, lift." Quickly, three of the people lift me onto the stretcher. The movement jarrs my leg and I groan.

"It's okay, sweetie." The woman murmurs gently. "You're going to be okay now."

They load me into the back of the ambulance. Tears run down the side of my face, and I can feel the wetness in my ears. The woman pulls over a plastic mask, and fixes it over my face. I cry out in panic and fear when she ties the strap around my head.

"Shh." The woman soothes. "You're okay now."

One of the men pulls out a gray blanket, and lays it over me. It's heavy. And comforting. And warm. I just realized how cold it is. How cold I am.

"I'm cold." I whisper, mostly to myself.

"We're trying to get you warm, honey." The woman says gently, running a hand through my hair. I find the action soothing, and I feel my aching muscles relax. My eyelids close, and my consciousness slowly drags away, pulling me down into the darkness.

I'm writing this for myself, because the story wouldn't leave me alone, but some support would be nice.

I know that people don't usually enjoy reading fanfictions about OCs, but this character isn't actually as OC as you might imagine. : ) Read on and find out.

Like I said, I will update when I can. No promises.