A/N: And back to the angsty Red John plot bunnies again. Hooray! x tromana
Title: Cold As You
Rating: T
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: The weather is parallel to Lisbon's mood.
Disclaimer: Pfft yeah. Like I'd own something like the Mentalist.
Spoilers: 1.20 Red Sauce, 1.23 Red John's Footsteps
Notes: Thanks to dizzy - in - the - izzy for the plot bunny! I hope I've done it justice.
Prompt: 50 Phrases: It means nothing.
Cold As You
Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day,
Just walk away, ain't no use defending words that you will never say,
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through,
I've never been anywhere cold as you.
--- Cold As You, Taylor Swift
The storm had been brewing all day, as if the world knew exactly what was going to happen. The windscreen wipers were frantically at work whilst the rain plummeted down in its heavy onslaught. Teresa Lisbon hadn't bothered putting on any music, she rarely did. Usually, she had some kind of distraction which made the point of it defunct, anyway. In this occasion, the echoing crescendo of thunder suited her mood just perfectly.
She had killed a man today.
It wasn't the first time she had killed and she was fairly certain that it wouldn't be the last. Her career was dangerous and she had been trained to do so in such an occasion. The fact that the person lying dead in a morgue because of her in downtown Sacramento had been serial killer didn't help particularly. A life was still a life, no matter how evil and twisted the man appeared to be. She had been so determined to bring him in alive, but there had to be that cruel twist of fate, didn't there?
In saving Jane's life, she had lost him. It was stupid, reckless and completely typical of him to go after Red John armed with just a carving knife. It was obvious to everybody around him that his previously unattainable nemesis was always going to be far more prepared than that. That was typical of Red John - meticulous down to the final detail.
Jane had been furious when, like so many times before, she had appeared 'earlier' than they had previously agreed. Lisbon cast her mind back to Hardy, dying of a single gunshot wound courtesy of Jane and thus saving her life. Other occasions too, when things had gone slightly astray. Little details which Red John exploited just to slip through their fingers time and time again. The murderer had always known that Lisbon would appear early and she cursed her predictability. But it was her duty to predict Jane. She was his supervising agent, not his cover, decoy or distraction.
The shootout had been an inevitability. Lisbon had slammed into Jane, knocking him out of the way of a shower of bullets. Her first attempt at stopping Red John, too, had failed. Her shot had buried itself into the plasterboard behind their suspect. He laughed at them maniacally, and it was then she realised that Red John had hoped to take the meaning of the phrase 'kill two birds with one stone' quite literally. As she expected, her threats, requests and warnings fell on deaf ears. Red John indulged in another attempt as she spoke and Lisbon wasn't quite sure how he missed his target. He was probably just playing with her, taunting them, as he loved to do so much. Her second shot, however, didn't. As he shot for a third time, hers found his heart and he collapsed at her feet with a slightly shocked look on his face. Obviously not quite the result he had anticipated.
What Lisbon hadn't expected was the look of tormented rage on Jane's face, however.
It was blindingly obvious that he was fuming that Lisbon had stolen his quarry, and with it his hopes for vengeance for his family's death. Her face stung as he struck her, a wholly unexpected response. She'd lifted her hand to her reddening cheek, anger rising at the fact he had just slapped her for saving his life. A lump developed in her throat as she continued her lonely drive home, his words echoing around in her head. He had only said them a few hours ago, after all.
"These past years, they mean nothing now. You mean nothing. I can't stay. Goodbye, Teresa."
She had tried to protest but the words just died at the tip of her tongue. He had dropped his consultancy card at her feet. Tomorrow, she would be giving it to Minelli and trying to string together a few sentences to explain everything that had happened that sorry afternoon. But for now, Lisbon was still trying to get those callous looks he'd shot her out of her head, along with the three words: 'it means nothing.'
Her car came to a grinding halt in her allotted parking space. After she had killed the engine and taken her keys out of the ignition, she slammed her hands back down on the steering wheel in frustration. It was times like this that you just didn't know how to feel. She had done her duty; how the hell couldn't Jane see that? She kept repeating it to herself like a mantra. What she had done was nothing to do with stopping Jane from becoming a killer ad had everything to do with apprehending the man responsible for the deaths of so many.
Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. It was a shame that life really couldn't be that simple.
Lisbon hated the control that Jane had over her emotions. For years, they had flirted mercilessly with one another, partially in jest and partially meaning every single word. Everyone she knew had thought that one day, they would become a couple in every sense of the word. Even Minelli, who as their boss, should have condoned it, would have given them his blessing. For too many years, they had been two people drifting, driven by singular emotions and pretending to have lives. Together, they could have been invincible and supplied one another with that little slice of happiness that they both deserved.
But still, there were times that she hated him almost literally. She loathed the way that he could read her like an open book and the smug attitude he had every time one of his theories proved to be correct. She despised the way that vengeance ate him from the inside, to the extent that he was blind to the concerns of those around him. Blind to the emotions that she may or may not have been developing for him. And the times when he danced a little too close to that borderline. The one where she seriously had to consider whether or not to arrest him as well as the suspect.
The fact that he had just left was like a knife tearing straight through her raw flesh and directly into her heart. Years ago, Lisbon had sworn that she would never make the mistake of letting another man get close to her. To stop anybody from hurting her like this. What false promises they had been. Either that, or fate was up to her nasty little tricks again.
There had been good times, though. The apologetic gifts - who brought a pony for someone who was just a friend? The times when he displayed his sheer desperation to earn her trust. Having someone, however childish, however egotistical, around who understood, who was on the same wavelength as her.
She laughed bitterly as the rain poured down onto her face and streaks of lightening danced across the night sky. What she hated most was that the good times were entirely eclipsed by one thing. The look of sheer hatred in his eyes as he bid her farewell.
Teresa Lisbon doubted that she would ever be able to forget that.
end
