Dust in the Wind
I.
There's no way for him to find any semblance of sleep tonight, so he simply gets into his car and drives.
If only he could turn off his brain and believe what Kristina Frye has told him.
That she has actually talked to his dead wife.
That their daughter never woke up on that terrible night.
"I'm sorry, Angie."
He knows she can't hear him, not really. He's just clutching at straws in a desperate attempt to preserve his sanity.
"You tried to warn me, but I didn't listen. I've been such a fool…"
A single tear rolls down his cheek. What is done can't be undone; he's learned it the hardest way.
II.
It's the first time he's been here since the funeral, and now it feels as if they've just died again.
He doesn't look at his brother-in-law when he walks away. Eventually he gets up and slowly heads back to his car.
"I've helped him get off the hook," he mutters softly under his breath. "As you'd have wanted."
Angela had never been under any illusions about her brother, but she loved him nonetheless. She wouldn't have let him down, no matter what.
Danny still holds him responsible for the death of his sister, and he can't honestly blame him for that. It's the plain truth – nothing more, nothing less.
Switching the ignition on he drives away from the cemetery. They're not actually here after all.
III.
The old lady at the tea shop told him it's an old island custom. It's actually more of a superstition, but right now he just doesn't care.
As the white flower floats on the water he can almost feel peace washing over him.
"Forgive me, my love."
His whisper gets lost among the crashing of waves. Rationally he knows there's no such thing as the afterlife, and dead people aren't really looking down at us from somewhere.
He still has chosen Angela's favorite flower, just in case.
She used to keep asters in their living room, right beside the piano. Now the asters are long dead and gone – like everything else.
IV.
His family means everything in the world to him; how could he forget about them?
He's been through a lot, that's true. A murderer has almost drowned him, and the way Lisbon looks at him is an eloquent reminder of how touch-and-go things have been at that point.
He shouldn't have forgotten his family anyway.
"It won't happen again, Angie. I swear it."
It's getting darker in the empty room upstairs, and the mocking red smiley slowly fades among shadows. He lies down on the mattress and shuts his eyes.
Everything inside his memory palace need to be sorted out if he really wants to catch Red John.
V.
Six painful months in Vegas and now he's back to where he started. Having Red John's girl in custody is surely a good thing, but it's still not enough.
He's not as confident about breaking her as he pretends to be. And he's definitely not looking forward to sleeping with her again.
"It didn't mean anything – you know it, right? I did what I had to do, and that's all there is to it."
Lorelei isn't the woman he has feelings for; that has become apparent ever since he reunited with Lisbon in that church.
Of course he didn't intend to let it slip out in the heat of the moment. The last thing he needs right now is painting a bigger target on her back.
"Someday, when it's all over."
And for a moment he can almost feel Angela's answering smile.