A/N: Sorry for not updating, I have an epic migraine and have done so for a week now. I also have some exciting news to announce regarding this fic: it has been voted as Best Alternate Universe, Angst, Red John, 'Drama, Hurt/Comfort & Best Novel in the Het categories of the 2013 Paint It Red Awards. I'm so excited and humbled by everyone who voted for this story. And now, I am so glad that I finally have the opportunity to start cross-posting it on here.
With thanks to: Jessica, MentalistLover13, Guest, phoenixx87, livingandthriving, Jane Doe51, kathiann, nic73, Miss Peg and Ebony10 for reviewing chapter three.
I hope you are all enjoy reading it - and I would love to hear your thoughts on this story as it is so dear to my heart. Even if you've never dared review a story before, I would really love to see what you are thinking about it!
x tromana
Chapter Four
Jane was feeling irritable and bored. Technically, it was his fault, but still. Due to having two suspensions within the space of a month, the time he'd spent off was beginning to drive him mad. He told himself that it was for the greater good, they had closed the case and averted a potential crisis. Red John hadn't gotten wind of their copycat killer and now, Dr. Simone Wyatt was safely behind bars and would remain there until she was tried for murder. Unfortunately, Teresa Lisbon had seen fit to tell his boss about the methodology he had used to garner the confession and Minelli had taken an instant dislike to it. He wasn't angry with her; he understood why she had done it. However, he was a little bit disappointed; he'd hoped she would know why he had to do what he did. But ultimately, that was why he was driving himself stir crazy in his room at the extended stay motel. That was why he wasn't at work instead.
Before he'd left, Jane had made sure that he had a copy of the abridged version of the Red John case files. It gave him something to work on while he was away and besides, it was his most important case. Red John hung over them like a dark shadow and his consultant more than most. He hated the fact that Teresa Lisbon was suffering in a similar, but more acute, way to how he had since childhood. She deserved answers and he was determined to give them to her as soon as feasibly possible. Maybe then she would see fit to stop blaming herself for the death of her family, especially her daughter, and then, she would be able to move on with her life properly. All the prayers in the world weren't going to make a difference, but if he was proactive about the case then he might just.
However, he had read these notes countless times and he hated the fact he was constantly going over the same old ground. They needed some new information - and fast - but the scant leads they had were all stale or redundant. If one of Red John's so-called friends or followers suddenly developed a conscience, then that would have helped immensely. Or if Red John decided to kill again, they would have to hope they could capitalize on the new leads that developed as a consequence. But even so, the killer was meticulously careful. On the rare occasions he did leave something behind, there was always a hidden message behind it. Red John didn't make mistakes; or at least, he didn't appear to. Besides, he had only killed once since Jane and his unit had taken control of the case. That was shortly after Lisbon had joined the team, and at that point, she had been half the woman she was now. She'd still been so deep in mourning for her husband and daughter, that the case had done more damage to her than use. Jane was sick of feeling like he was three steps behind Red John, but he reminded himself that the serial killer was human. He did make mistakes. One day, he told himself, he would have answers for Lisbon and all of the other grieving friends and relatives of victims, too.
With a heavy sigh, he snapped the file shut and stashed it underneath the mattress for safekeeping. He couldn't sit still for much longer; he needed to do something more proactive. Quickly, he came to a decision, grabbed his gun off the counter and holstered it. Jane could feel he was tensing up and decided that getting down the range and having some shooting practice would make sense. In spite of all of his achievements in law enforcement, he consistently felt under confident handling a firearm. And although he was a fairly good shot down the range, it was another matter entirely applying it out in the field. Regardless, the more practice he had handling the damn thing, the better. He didn't like guns particularly, but it was a necessary evil of the job. Like the mountainous piles of paperwork he had to endure most months, admittedly, mostly generated by himself.
Instead of taking the state-issue SUV that the CBI supplied him with, he used the blue Citroen he had inherited from his father. It was the one possession of his dad's that he'd kept; looking in the mirror was often more than enough to remind him of the monster his father had become. Jane shivered; when he'd been ten years old, he had always felt himself bursting with pride when somebody said he was truly his father's son. Now, it seemed more like a curse he'd been afflicted with, something he would never be able to get rid of, however hard he tried. If he was less like his father, then maybe he would have been able to adhere to the rulebook that little bit better, and then he would actually be able to do his job without a suspension every six months or so. At least, for the most part, Virgil Minelli thought he was worth the additional hassle. If it wasn't for him, then he wouldn't have a job at all or he'd be stuck in some backwater dump where his 'genius' would have been even less appreciated than it was in Sacramento.
The shooting range was mercifully quiet, with only two other people there when Jane arrived. In the parking lot, he smiled when he recognized one of the cars. Having a friend inside would make the time pass by much quicker. Whether or not she was going to be as pleased to see him remained to be seen. As a consequence, he signed in hurriedly, stashed his belongings in a locker and prepared himself mentally for going to shoot. The sound of gunshots made him jump for a second, but he quickly settled down; it was in a controlled environment, ergo there was no danger whatsoever.
He grabbed hold of a pair of bright yellow ear defenders and snapped them over his ears. Then, he sauntered over to the petite brunette and placed a hand on her right shoulder just as soon as she finished firing off a round. Teresa Lisbon practically jumped out of her skin at the gentle touch. She placed her firearm down, wheeled around on her heels and Jane narrowly avoided getting punched in the face. It wasn't for the first time either, he mused. Jane smiled warmly at her, but Lisbon shot him a dirty glare. Carefully, they both slid the defenders off of one ear and it was only then that she spoke to him.
"What the hell are you doing here, Jane?" she muttered irritably.
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, still grinning. "At least using a gun is a part of my job description."
She rolled her eyes. "I do have my license, you know."
"No I didn't," Jane answered softly and he took a step back. "You're quite good. When did you learn?"
"My dad taught me," she replied frankly and Jane was surprised that she had brought up her absent father at all. "He wanted to make sure I had no fear of them and that I could always defend myself when necessary. I always come down here after a stressful day to let off some steam."
Jane nodded in response. He hadn't expected Lisbon to be quite so open with her reasoning behind getting her firearm license. But then, her justification made complete sense. Although she had never gone into detail about her upbringing, Jane knew that it had been unusual and that she had never attended high school, never mind college. If her lifestyle had once been just as risky as she had insinuated on occasion, then it made sense that her overprotective father had made every effort to ensure she could keep herself safe. Especially so when her mother had died shortly after the birth; that much, he had been able to discover through a little research shortly after Lisbon had become associated with his team.
Lisbon turned away at that moment, put her ear defenders back on and fired off another round. Jane watched, admiringly, from the background. She seemed more at ease with the gun in her hand than many cops did; it was quite the contradiction. Not once had Lisbon shown any inclination towards her ability to handle weapons in the past. And also, it was a rather alarming development. Lisbon had made it clear from the very beginning that Red John was the principle reason she had offered her services to the CBI. If she ever got her hands on the serial killer, just what were her intentions for him? Jane didn't want to see her behind bars, or worse, for exacting revenge on the bastard who killed her family. After everything that had gone wrong in her life, she didn't deserve that. And yet, he understood the impetus for it entirely. If he knew the identity of the person who had killed his mom, he couldn't say he would sit in silence. He would do everything to bring about justice for her - and his father by default - even if that meant taking the law into his own hands. In fact, Jane knew that the exact same would apply to Red John too. He'd caused so much pain and misery, that even death was too good for somebody like him.
"Have you ever had to use a gun out of the shooting range?" Jane asked when Lisbon was scrutinizing the results of her latest round.
She hesitated for a second, as if she were trying to decide between lying and telling the truth. "Once," she admitted quietly and she glanced at her feet. Jane immediately knew that she had opted for honesty in this case. "I was just a kid; we got attacked when advertising the carnival."
"Did you..." he trailed off quickly.
"I missed, but the shot was more than enough to scare them off."
"Good."
He wondered if she was haunted by the only time she had used a gun in self-defense, like he was for each and every time he had to pull the trigger. The ghosts of the past came out to haunt him at night, to taunt him for bending the law to breaking point. They accused him of failing in his position as a police officer, told him that if he were a better cop, he would have been able to arrest them and allow the law to take care of justice. Instead, he had killed them, murdered them in cold blood. If he'd believed in Hell, he would have taken their accusations that he would shortly be following them there seriously. As it was, it made him question: just because he had a badge, did that really make the fact he had taken a life any different? Technically, of course, it did. But a life was a life, regardless of what the people had been responsible for in the past.
And that was why he avoided using his gun at all costs. Whenever he was with Cho, Jane could see that his second in command was just as reluctant to use a firearm as he was, if not to actually draw it. Jane knew that Cho had suffered from an equally tragic past; his time in gangs and the army had most likely taught him to respect the weapon but not to take it for granted either. Cho was haunted, too, but in a very different way to Jane. He seemed like he had been able to come to terms with any deaths he'd been responsible for much more easily. But then, Cho didn't feel partially responsible for the deaths of two members of his family, either. Lisbon, however, while she knew how to use a gun, she didn't have those problems when it came to the use of firearms. She needn't regret using it as a warning, but that made her all the more dangerous. One of these days, Jane could see her being changed by the use of it and specifically, if she ended up using it against Red John. He could only hope that that day would never come. He made a mental note to keep a quiet eye on his consultant; he couldn't let her get out of control, like he did on all too frequent occasions. That also meant he would have to learn how to temper his antics at work. He couldn't watch over her, he couldn't save her, if he was almost constantly on suspension.
For another hour, as the sun slowly made its descent and set outside, they continued to shoot without exchanging any words. Occasionally, Jane stopped to spend the time watching Lisbon and her style. He was almost surprised to see she was better than him, but then, he knew he was lousy considering he was a senior agent for the CBI. There were rookies coming straight out of the academy who were far better shots than he was. Eventually, Lisbon put away her weapon and Jane became aware that she was assessing his each and every move. As a consequence, his shooting immediately went downhill and it irked him. It felt like his consultant was better at his job than he was. And besides, he desperately wanted her approval. Considering her history, Teresa Lisbon was remarkably level headed and sensible and he liked – almost envied – that about her. Even though they didn't really know each other outside of the office, Jane knew that he could trust her to the ends of the earth. He sincerely doubted that she would have that same faith in him.
"Have you ever been taught to shoot properly?" she enquired when he slid off his ear defenders as he inspected the damage.
"Of course I have," he answered back abruptly.
"Your stance is wrong. And the way you're breathing is too."
Lisbon encouraged him to pick up his Glock and he did so obligingly. She placed one of her hands gently on his waist and the other over his weapon. Carefully, she maneuvered him until the gun was in line for a kill shot on the target. It felt foreign having her so close by, touching him even. Lisbon had never been one for being tactile; he had challenged that in her on occasion, but it had always made her withdraw further away from him. So, he genuinely appreciated the fact she was actually making the effort to get closer to him now. Silently, he reminded himself that there was a reason behind it: she was trying to help him improve at his job. There was no other hidden meaning behind her actions at all. But then, even if there was, she was remarkably good at concealing her thoughts from him. Maybe he would have been oblivious to it if there was?
"Feel the shot. Only fire when you're breathing out; it needs to come from inside of you," she explained in a low and gentle tone. "The gun must feel like a natural extension of your body."
Slowly Jane closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, as he had been instructed to do so. A part of him almost swore that he had surprised Lisbon by actually listening to her instruction. Even so, he was used to different breathing techniques like this, to assist with his sleeping, but they rarely worked. Not once had he thought to apply it to the use of his firearm. When it had evened out, he could still feel Lisbon's gentle touch on his body and he relaxed into it. Then, he let out the breath he had been holding and as he did so, he pulled the trigger. Jane winced as the sound of the bullet cut through the air; they had both forgotten to replace their defenders. However, the bullet tore through the paper precisely where the heart had been marked out. Gingerly, Jane clicked the safety back on and Lisbon let go of him, almost as if she had suddenly found their close proximity inappropriate. He turned to face her and she smiled wryly.
"Easy," she muttered lowly. "I can't believe nobody taught you that."
"People just expect cops to be a natural at it," Jane replied with a shrug.
"Everything needs practice," Lisbon countered and she took a few steps back. "I'll see you when you're back at work, Jane. It's been… good to see you."
He watched as she took a couple of steps away. It was strange how he felt like he should know her so well and yet, in actuality, she was a bit of a mystery to him. Deep down, Jane knew that he wanted to spend more time with her and not just at work. He wanted her approval, as her boss, he deserved her trust and he wanted to keep her close. It felt safer that way. Automatically, he started to follow her, but she seemed almost oblivious to the fact.
"Teresa, wait," he eventually called when it was clear she had expected him to stay behind.
Swiftly, she turned on her heels and eyed him quizzically. Jane never usually felt this disconcerted to talk to her, but he swallowed down any nerves. He wasn't asking her to marry him; instead, he was offering out a hand of friendship. In a strange sort of way, he knew that they could both do with more friends, more people they could rely upon.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Let me take you out for a drink," he suggested and she began to shake her head. "As thanks for your help, nothing else. Nothing… inappropriate."
She didn't answer him immediately, and the silence that enveloped them felt tortuous to Jane. "Okay," she eventually murmured. "I'd like that."
He was relieved that she hadn't disappeared and left him by the time he had managed to gather together all of his belongings. Immediately, Lisbon offered to drive and Jane complied; he knew she trusted his beloved blue Citroen even less than she trusted him. Besides, she had work in the morning, whereas he was still waiting for the PSU to actually make a decision on his case. He hoped they wouldn't take too much longer; they should have been used to him and his issues by now. They had probably already lost count of the number of times they had dealt with him already.
Lisbon was quiet as she drove sedately. He let her pick out which bar to go to; he had a feeling that allowing her some sense of control would mean she would be more inclined to trust that he was being genuine with his offer. Jane dedicated so much of his life to work, that it was almost a novelty to be able to go out to a bar with somebody he wanted to consider as a friend. He still knew that Lisbon was going to be hard work though; she built up barriers and defended them to the extreme. It was understandable why; she was scared that if she let anybody else get close to her, then they would inevitably end up getting hurt. With Red John as a personal enemy, it was clear that she rarely felt safe as each day went by.
Conversation was initially stilted, as it had been in Lisbon's family home. Jane knew that Lisbon always had trouble opening up about her feelings, and especially the past. He couldn't blame her for that, but then, he wished she would just learn that she could trust him. He wasn't about to hurt her, nor would he abuse that trust. The only time he took risks was when he was at work, and that was simply to push cases forwards. It was his job to close cases, after all, and the one thing he felt like he was any good at. She continued to stare aimlessly out of the window, as her finger trailed across the rim of her wine glass. Jane wondered if this had anything to do with her deceased husband, if she was thinking that she was betraying him for merely having a drink with a co-worker. But that was all this was, just a drink. He was being entirely open with his intentions; he liked and cared about Teresa Lisbon, she was one of his team. Anything else he may or may not have felt, he buried deep down, anyway.
It was only when the conversation moved onto the work, and specifically, their current cases, that Jane was able to coax Lisbon out of her shell a little. Jane had already been away from work for several days, and thus, a couple of new cases had landed on their doorstep. He hated feeling out of touch with work, and he was glad that Lisbon had decided to take the chance on opening up to him about them. Naturally, he shared his insights with her, in the hope that she would pass the message onto Cho and the rest of the team. Just because he was on suspension, it didn't mean he didn't want to help on the cases. If he was there, he knew he would have been throwing his all into finding these killers. As it was, focusing on purely Red John was driving him insane.
And that was why he had leapt at the opportunity to spend more time with Teresa Lisbon when he'd seen her down at the shooting range. Not just because he could catch up with the current cases, and not just because he liked and admired his consultant, but because she offered him a much needed reprieve and distraction from the confines of his own mind. In theory, Jane also knew that he could have spent the time catching up with his errant brothers, but that was always difficult. Ever since he had left the family home, chasing his dreams to become a cop, his brothers had grown increasingly more distant with him, especially Tommy. Now, they seemed to resent him for leaving them for dust, and had bandied together against him. Jane had dragged the three of them up after the death of their father, and now, they wanted nothing to do with him as a result. So be it, he thought. At least he knew he had his team for support, if all else failed. Sometimes, he swore they were like a surrogate family to him.
"What do you think of Van Pelt, Teresa?" he enquired, shifting the subject ever so slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think of her?" he repeated, persistent. "Do you think she'll make a good agent? Do you think she'll fit into the team?"
"She's sweet and seems to get on well with the team. Naïve, though. She needs to grow a thicker skin if she's going to make it in law enforcement," Lisbon paused for a second to take a sip of her drink. "I also think she needs the leadership of a good senior agent around, instead of somebody who is constantly on suspension."
Lisbon smirked when she finished her statement and Jane quirked his head slightly in response. This was the most open – and most critical – she had ever been about Jane and his position at work. He wasn't offended though, what she had stated was the absolute truth. However, even when Minelli tried to rein him in, it only served to make Jane react contrarily. And thus, it had led to him growing increasingly out of control. But Lisbon was right; Van Pelt was young and needed guidance as a cop. He had a responsibility to her, one which he was currently failing.
"What are you insinuating, Ms. Lisbon?" he asked, with a grin which contradicted his statement.
She was about to defend herself when Jane's cellphone rang out. Jane held out a slender finger to silence her as he checked who the caller was. When he realized it was Cho, he frowned and immediately took the call. Lisbon listened in intently, but Jane ignored her. Instead, he focused entirely on what his second in command had to say, and as the situation developed, his frown deepened and he grew increasingly concerned. This was the last thing he wanted – or needed – to hear. And already, he was dreading telling Lisbon the sorry news. Without saying a word directly to her, he knew what kind of reaction she was going to have to it. Eventually, he bid Cho farewell and promised he would be there as soon as feasibly possible.
"What's wrong?" Lisbon asked softly.
"It's Red John," he said by way of explanation. "We have to go. Now."