Red Bones, Red Bones- Chapter Seven.
"Piss off Jane." Lisbon said, as he walked into her motel room. She was dressed, and stood near the kitchen counter whilst she poured out her coffee. Her gun and badge lay on the table.
"Lisbon?" He said, walking towards her. "I went to go and get a bear-claw from Marie's, and then I remembered that were in DC, where there probably isn't a Marie's, so I went and found a nice little bakery-"
"Shut up Jane. You left. You just left me, and then when you think you could get lucky again, you come back with bear claws and try to make things better. Well, that doesn't mean anything. I know that you left. I know you regret it." She tried to walk past him, as he grabbed her arm, holding her in a tight embrace whilst he stared into her eyes. She could feel his breath against her face as he leaned in closer.
"I will never regret a single second I spend with you.." He said, as he leaned in to kiss her.
But she didn't let him.
She pushed him away.
She pushed him away, and walked out.
"Screw you, Jane."
XXX
"What do you mean- my mother's involved! She's been dead for twenty eight years!" Lisbon shouted, clearly confused and upset.
"We found Daisy placing remains in Bone storage. It was your mother's remains that we found. It was the same cutting style-"
"My mother died in a car crash-"
"A car crash that caused a tree to stab her, right? One branch went through her abdomen, one went through her shoulder, and one slit her neck." "Classic Red John." She whispered.
"Yes. It looks like your mother's death was the inspiration for Red John's cutting style." Brennan concluded.
"Oh. Well. In that case! " Lisbon hauled up her arms before collapsing on the sofa in Brennan's office.
"I know what that means." Brennan said to Booth.
"She was being sarcastic. She wants to know how this helps us figure out who he is." Booth said quietly. Brennan bit her lip.
"That's good and all, but how does that help us find the killer? My ma was a nurse, se knew a lot of people." Lisbon got quieter as the sentence went on. That was the most she had ever shared about her family. Of course, they all knew of the tragic accident, they all knew of her father's alcoholism, they all knew about the abuse.
But she had never told them that.
She never told them how her brothers used to cower behind her when they walked in from school. She never told them how he hit them, beat them so hard they had all been to hospital, nearly dead, three or four times. Each. She had never told them about her childhood. She had never told them how she had become the surrogate mother of a ten year old, and eight year old and a four year old.
She never told them anything.
And yet, they could all see it in her face. They could all see the memories that haunted her, day after day, night after night, minute after minute. Second after second. The constant reminder that she was the offspring of a monster. Of an angel gone rogue. Of a man who left his children to fend for themselves when they were so young.
Of a Lisbon who had lost someone.
They saw it when he left to. Her team saw her falling apart when Jane left for Vegas. They saw her father in her, they saw the weakest part of her, the part that needed Jane the most. They saw Lisbon without the layers of protection she had built for herself, under her father's rule.
And she was beautiful. She was innocent. She was terrified. She even had a feminine side.
In those six months, they saw how her walls of protection weren't concrete. They saw how she was human, just like the rest of them. Their boss, she wasn't invincible. She just makes people think she is to avoid the pain of loosing someone else.
And rightly so.
Because every tie she loved someone, she lost them.
She had loved her mother and father. She had loved Greg. She had loved Sam Bosco. She had loved her brothers, whom this job had so cruelly ripped from her grasp.
She had loved him.
She had loved Jane. The man who was out to avenge his wife and daughter's death. The man who had sworn his soul to another. The man who had sworn that there was nothing he would do to catch Red John.
Even if it meant death.
Even if it meant sacrificing everything.
For him.
For Red John.
For Angela.
For Charlotte.
He would kill for them.
For his wife.
For his daughter.
For her.
Not if I get him first.. She thought, as she stood and began fishing out her phone.
"What are you doing?" Brennan asked, as Lisbon began dialing a number.
"I'm calling Tommy. He will have all of my mother's stuff down here tomorrow. At least, the stuff that my father didn't burn. There will be photos, records.. Hello?" She walked out of the room. Brennan gestured for her team to follow, and continue working on the remains of the Red John victims, and Lisbon's mother.
"Jane, Cho and I are going to go for a coffee run. It looks like everyone's gunna need it…" Rigsby said, as he and Cho walked out of the room, leaving Jane and Van Pelt. She sighed.
"You admire her." Jane noted absent mindedly.
"Yeah. I do. Of course, you wouldn't understand." Jane smirked, as he began rifling through papers.
"And why would that be, Van Pelt" He asked.
"because all you've done is drag her through hell. And you can't see it because you've got yourself so caught up in this revenge crap. You.." She took a deep breath. "You act like the husband who loves his wife, who would do anything to get her back, but your not. You just found out that your daughter is out there, being tortured and what do you do? You carry on dragging her through hell, and smirking, and drinking your tea, and playing with everyone's minds." Jane froze. "You, Patrick Jane, are a self centred bastard!" She was practically shouting now.
"I'm sorry you think that." He said, his fists clenched and his jaw locked.
"No, no your not. You don't give a damn-!"
"Yes I do! Can't you see how much this kills me, how much Im hiding! Can't you see how right now all I want to do is go and jump of a bridge over there, because of Red John, and Charlotte.. And .. Lisbon.." He looked away, unable to meet her stare. "I love her, Grace. And I love my daughter. And I' trying. I'm trying to be the best of both worlds for Charlotte and Teresa, but I can't.. She isn't.."
"She isn't making it any easier for you?"
"No. She isn't. because of a stupid mistake.." Van Pelt looked over his shoulder at the small Irish- American who was now standing in the doorway.
"Thank you, Van Pelt. I'm heading back to my motel, my brother is closer than I thought. I will be back in a few hours." She nodded and rushed out of the door, her skin already flushed from the tears that were about to claim her. Jane looked at Van Pelt, who nodded, and he followed her.
"Don't hurt he, Jane." She spoke as he left the room.
He didn't hear her.
XXX
He knocked on the door.
Again.
She ignored it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
"Lisbon?" Still no reply.
Nothing.
Jane looked at the flimsy lock on the door, wondering how much pain she would inflict on him if he picked it. Probably a lot he thought, as he reached for the paper clip he kept in his jacket pocket.
And then he heard it.
Then he heard her,
He heard her crying, he heard each of the tears running down her pale skin, he heard each time she moved backwards and forwards, in a foetal position, rocking herself like a baby.
He heard her talking.
He heard her say his name.
He heard her begging for him.
Begging for him to love her.
Begging for him to forget Red John.
Begging for him to remember her, to remember the love she had felt for him, the love she had confessed to him the day before.
He heard her. He heard Lisbon. He heard his Lisbon, the one and only woman he would love when Red John was dead. He heard the only thing that kept him going. He heard her.
And then he remembered.
He remembered all of the reasons that he had resisted the temptation, all of the reasons he had stayed away from her, all of the reasons he couldn't do this.
Red John.
Red John would kill her. Red John would kill the only thing he had to live for. Red John would kill his second chance, because he screwed up the first time. And if Red John didn't, he would.
He would kill her.
Through stupidity, through lust for fame, through fraud, through revenge, through fear or through stupidity. He would get her killed, he would have her life cut so horribly short.
And he couldn't do that again.
He couldn't loose another wife, another family. Not like he hadd lost the first one.
Not like he had lost her.
Angela.
His one and only reason for living, until she came along.
Charlotte.
His wife. His daughter. Te people he had made a promise to. The people he would stay faithful to until the day he died. The woman he loved, and the child he sired.
His family.
He knew it was ridiculous. He knew he was killing her, even if she would still have a heartbeat when he was done with her.
If she was lucky.
What have I done? He had done this. He had put her right at the centre of Red John's radar. He had put her in harms way, shoved her right in front of the train. He had killed her.
Again.
He had killed two women he loved. He had killed his second chance.
Not Red John.
Him.
Red John, he was just the knife. He was just the assassin. He was the hand of death.
But.. But Jane.. Jane was the fat controller at the station. He was the mastermind on top of it all. He was the reason this was happening. Every single one of the people who had died, every single one of the people Red John had sliced up was his fault. His daughter was out there being tortured, and all he could think about was winning back the love of a woman he would surely have killed.
Angela.
Charlotte.
Angela.
Charlotte.
Lisbon…
He understood it now. All of it. He understood Red John's motives. Red John.. He wasn't a killer.. He.. Red John was as good as a saint. He was showing people the light, showing people what they had, he was ridding the world of the monsters, one by one. He was ridding the world of the monsters by killing everything they had, and watching them. Taking away everything, killing them from the inside out.
He was doing the right thing.
He turned around slowly, dropping his car keys and the doorstep. His face was stuck in one position, like the emoticons on a phone. He knew what was happening. He knew why this had happened.
And he knew how to save them.
He knew how to save his daughter. He knew how to save his lover. He knew how to save his team. He knew how to save the Jeffersonion. He knew how to save the world.
He knew how to save the world from his wrath.
From Red John.
Red John.
Red John.
From himself.
He knew who the monster was, and the monster had to die. The day he opened that door, the day he first saw their bodies, he knew. He knew that the person who did this had to die. He was going to kill the killer.
He was going to kill himself.
A/N- I'm sorry for the slow update! It's been a really chaotic week! Thankyou for all your reviews and PM's on the last chapter... I would love some more of those.. :) :) I hope to have the next chapter up soon, but those reviews will definatly spur me on! :D :D
