A/N: So this post-ep was difficult. This ep brings up so many issues and it's basically impossible to do all of them justice. I touched on a few and figured that was good enough. Most of the issues this ep highlights recur in the series anyway.
This isn't one of my favourites, and it isn't the post-ep I was anticipating writing. However, that post-ep didn't want to be written, so I gave up and went with this instead. I do think it turned out better than I was expecting it would, especially considering how uninspired I was. I think I like it, and I hope you enjoy it too.
I can't believe I've already written nine of these things. Reviews of this chapter or even thoughts on the direction of the whole series are always appreciated.
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Post 3.09: Toss a card, any card
xxxxx
Lisbon walked up to the attic.
She knew her consultant was still in the building. She'd heard from the PSU that Jane had finished his interview with them hours ago. Yes, she'd checked. That was just common sense at this point; with Jane there was a very good chance that he'd simply decide not to meet with them, just to be contrary.
Well, mainly to be contrary. The subject matter of the visit would obviously have been upsetting as well.
Thank God Jane was pretty much above suspicion for the murder. Lisbon could give him an alibi herself.
It was a small mercy, but she was clinging to it right now.
Because some cases really sucked.
A cop killer. A Jane-trap. A sociopath. A supposedly grieving fiancé pretending to be motivated by revenge.
She'd known this one was going to be trouble, right from the start.
Lisbon couldn't help wondering how long Jane had known Todd Johnson was a killer. Jane had obviously been goading the man into getting vengeance the entire case, obviously setting up for a fall. Not that Johnson had needed much goading. But honestly, telling an apparently grieving fiancé that there were times when revenge was a swell plan? She'd figured that was just Jane at the time, but now she wasn't so sure. Especially since he'd later offered to convince him not to pursue his revenge so the man could go free. She'd known all along that had been part of a con. (And Jane had known she'd known.) What she hadn't known was that Johnson was the killer.
But she'd have to be a fool to think Jane would have changed his mind on revenge so completely. And she wasn't a fool, though she may have been many things, especially when it came to Patrick Jane.
Heaven knows what Jane had said to Todd in the attic. Lisbon suspected it was something she'd rather not hear herself.
She knew he hadn't been talking down vengeance.
And Hightower had supported him.
In the end he'd caught the killer of course; but Hightower couldn't have possibly foreseen that. She certainly hadn't seen the value in driving home the idea that the CBI really couldn't endorse vengeance campaigns. To Jane.
Sometimes Lisbon really wished it was socially acceptable to shout at people until they saw sense (though she wasn't sure whether she'd have started with her boss or her consultant).
Most of the time she just accepted that there were things she couldn't change and took her lumps, but honestly.
And there was more to this than met the eye. More to it even than reinforcing Jane's dangerous ideas about revenge.
Because Todd Johnson had a secret that he wanted to tell Jane, and Jane alone.
He'd simply died before he could tell it.
And it had been enough of a secret that Jane had basically camped out at the hospital to figure it out. Which made sense, the man had been set on fire right before he told it.
So yeah, Lisbon knew something was going on.
She had no idea what. And she knew Jane wouldn't tell her.
He wouldn't even tell her that he was upset. He'd all but refused to talk to her at all at the hospital when she'd offered support. It'd been subtle, and mostly unsaid, but she'd gotten the message loud and clear. So she settled for telling him the PSU needed to speak to him and leaving.
Lisbon hadn't expected him to confide in her of course. Not really. Even if the two of them were closer now. Some things never changed.
But that didn't mean it didn't sting, just a little.
And it also didn't mean she wasn't at least going to check on him.
Any time serial killers or the idea getting revenge became an issue, Jane was always a bit unstable.
Teresa Lisbon was determined to control the revenge situation (what she'd sarcastically sometimes taken to calling Jane's murderous intentions in her mind to help keep herself sane) as best she could, to keep Jane safe, though everything (and everyone) constantly conspired against her. She struggled for control, even if half of it was just hope. And she made sure to sound more confident about everything whenever it came up than she felt. It was the best way of dealing with Jane. She knew he was capable of murder, though she'd never tell him that.
It would only encourage him.
That was the last thing he needed.
Lisbon opened the door to the attic softly.
Surprisingly, Jane wasn't lying in his makeshift bed as he so often was.
Instead, he was sitting against the wall tossing playing cards, one by one, into a bowl on the floor a couple of metres away.
He didn't say anything when she walked in the door, which told her more about his mood than anything else could have.
Wordlessly she walked over to the bowl, grabbed a bunch of the cards in it and sat down on the opposite wall, stretching her legs out in front of her (consciously mirroring his position). Then she started tossing cards into the same bowl, in between his throws.
For a few minutes there was no sound but the thwapping of playing cards hitting the inside of the bowl and the odd thunk of one hitting the side and dropping to the floor.
"Figures that you'd have been on the basketball team in high school," Jane said after a moment, almost irritated at her degree of skill. She'd barely missed a card since she'd sat down.
She shrugged. "I may be short, but I'm quick."
"So you weaved around them, sneaked through," her surmised. Figured. She was good at that.
"Something like that," Lisbon agreed.
Jane smirked; "Always so competitive, weren't you?"
"Maybe."
"Unsurprising."
"Hey," she said, deliberately lightening her tone. "It's made me pretty damn good at card tossing."
"You mean that's not just thanks to boring night shifts?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Lisbon nodded her head slightly, acknowledging the point with a smile. "Well, that certainly helped…"
"Whereas my abilities are thanks to about a hundred different carnival games," Jane said by way of comparison.
"To each their own," Lisbon said with a shrug.
"Hm."
"You planning on going home anytime soon?" she asked him after a minute
"Are you?" Jane countered quickly.
But she stuck to her guns, albeit childishly. "I asked you first," Lisbon shot back.
"Something that only matters if your answer is dependent on mine," Jane pointed out.
She raised her eyebrows at him.
Jane shut his eyes briefly. He'd walked right into that. "Lisbon…"
"It was just a question Jane," she said with slightly exaggerated innocence.
He felt himself smile before he could help it. "No it wasn't," he said affectionately.
"It wasn't your fault you know," Lisbon said, changing the subject slightly.
Jane briefly considered keeping a tally of the number of cases Lisbon said that to him afterwards. He doubted he'd like the percentage. "I didn't say it was."
"Yet you're up here brooding."
"I walked into a room to find a man who'd been set on fire, Lisbon" Jane said, a touch of incredulity in his voice.
She nodded. "I know."
"I would have thought that would be reason enough to be brooding as you call it." He hoped she accepted that explanation. He needed her to accept that explanation because he couldn't afford to tell her the truth, the real reason behind his brooding.
He couldn't tell her that Todd Johnson had known something about Red John. That the cop killing might really all be related to Red John. Two quotations from the same William Blake poem was no coincidence. Jane suspected Todd had done that as a taunt, knowing he wouldn't have time to say anymore. Jane couldn't burden Lisbon with that knowledge. For one, she knew too much already, for another, it put her in danger. Plus, he didn't like the idea of giving her a more complete picture of what was in his head. She already thought she was in control of the Red John situation. Or hoped she was at least. She even thought she might be able to sway him when the time came. The very idea terrified him.
Because how his plans would affect her had already crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit.
And the fact that she didn't come out doing well afterwards caused him almost physical pain.
Oh, he wasn't going to change his goal for her. But he'd thought about it. And that was bad enough.
He couldn't think about that. He needed to try and keep his focus on Red John. This was his fight.
He'd told Todd that to get your revenge you had to conceal what was in your heart, close yourself off.
Sure, the speech had been part of a con to lure Todd into a trap (since Jane had been pretty much convinced the man was a sociopath at that point), but it had also been the truth.
It was always easiest to trap people with the truth, even if that truth didn't actually apply to them.
Jane was doing a truly terrible job at heeding the second part of his own advice though (he couldn't quite close himself off from her); he definitely needed to make sure he perfected the first.
He couldn't let Lisbon see what he was thinking. It would only cause her pain.
And he couldn't let Red John see what he was thinking.
If the serial killer ever got wind of what he thought about the woman sitting across from him…
The same woman who apparently found it perfectly normal to visit a cold, dark attic in the middle of the night and toss cards into a bowl.
Lisbon had just walked in, picked up half the deck and slipped into his rhythm.
It shouldn't have been comforting.
He watched Lisbon staring him, waiting for a reply. But she said nothing.
At the very least she didn't object to what he was doing out loud. She was letting him work it out in his head a little first. Because she knew him.
Oh god, she knew him.
Too well.
In all honesty, Jane wasn't sure if she believed that his only reason for brooding was that he'd seen a man killed, but at least she wasn't pushing him about it. He was thankful for small mercies.
He needed more time to wrap his head around what had happened before he was quite up to having it out with Lisbon.
He'd known that there was something off about Todd right from the start. It took a certain kind of detachment, of singularity of purpose to listen to someone who worked for law enforcement, even someone like him who wasn't actually a police officer tell you that you needed to lie to escape arrest so you could get your revenge. Of course, it'd all been part of a plan. He'd needed Todd out of prison so he could lead him into a trap. But still.
On the other hand, if Todd hadn't been a sociopathic killer, he wouldn't have been in a position where he'd need to be told how to carry out his revenge. Although, there really hadn't been any need for revenge, since Todd himself was the murder. So it was probably all a moot point.
He wondered what Lisbon thought about it all.
Whatever she thought, she didn't seem inclined to bring up the subject. (And he wasn't brave enough to talk either. The risk outweighed the rewards at the moment.)
Having exhausted her cards Lisbon leaned forward and grabbed the deck from inside the basket. She arranged them neatly before handing him half.
And with that their rhythm started again.
"So," Lisbon said after a moment. "See any good movies lately?"
He almost laughed.
"In my ample free time?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Hey, you disappear from the building for hours on end, doing who knows what; I've stopped asking. For all I know you're at the movie theatre."
"Yes, that's right Lisbon," he said with a smirk. "I duck out and catch the latest blockbusters from time to time, usually in the middle of a case."
"Any of them worth seeing?" she asked.
"Nah," he told her. "They're all too predictable."
"Shame," she said, continuing to toss her cards.
She wasn't leaving. She had not even the slightest intention of it. Not until he left, either to his own apartment or to her couch, she didn't care which. But he wasn't staying in the attic alone all night. Something was bothering him. She didn't know exactly what, but something. Jane had known something was strange about the case from the start. He'd said as much in that orchard, after she'd been almost killed by a wild dear. Lisbon had deliberately been keeping a close eye on Jane all case. She wasn't going to stop now.
Which was why she was sitting on a cold floor tossing cards into her bowl opposite an uncommunicative consultant.
Jane sighed, lost in his own thoughts again. What a case.
Something had twigged in his brain the second he walked into the field. Something was wrong, and not just the usual wrong of a dead body. Very wrong.
Turns out it had been something to do with Red John. Probably.
The serial killer had an uncanny ability to draw him in. Jane didn't like it.
And this was different, an accomplice serial killer of sorts. Jane had thought Red John worked alone, at least when it came to killing people. Although he had ordered Rebecca to kill Bosco and his team so...
They had a possible network of serial killers on their hands.
Lovely.
And just how involved was Red John in all this?
Did he pick the victims?
All of the victims?
Jane couldn't help wondering if the choice of targets was deliberate.
His mind had been going over the Todd Johnson case in his head for hours now.
What was the connection between a small-town paramedic and Red John? Other than the fact that they were both complete sociopaths?
Where had the two met?
Was Red John really the head of a network of serial killers? Or was it just Todd and a select few? Where Todd's kills part of Red John's plan? And if so, why was Red John advocating cop-killing?
Who was Red John trying to taunt? Or punish?
Jane glanced at the woman seated across from him and tried not to panic.
Red John. Possibly targeting cops. It was a terrifying precedent.
"What?" Lisbon asked suddenly.
He shook his head, realizing he'd probably let his thoughts show on his face. "Just thinking."
"I don't suppose you'd tell me what about?" she asked, though she was almost certain he wouldn't.
"That it might be worth going and seeing a movie, just to surprise you," he told her lightly.
She snickered, deciding to pretend (for the moment) that she believed him. "Yeah, that'd really throw me through a loop," she told him. "Really shake up my worldview. I don't know how I'd even get through the day, so overwhelming would the shock be."
"Oh hush," he told her affectionately.
"You hush."
"You hush."
They both hushed.
Thwap.
Thwap.
Thunk.
"You missed."
"Yes, thank you Teresa. I had noticed that," Jane said with mild irritation.
Thwap.
"I was just telling you," Lisbon replied evenly.
Thwap.
Jane nodded, "I do have eyes."
Thwap.
"Yes you do" she agreed.
Thwap.
"Meaning that I can see," Jane pointed out.
Thwap.
"Barely," Lisbon muttered. "In this light."
Thwap.
"My eyes have adjusted," he told he airily.
"Hmph."
Thwap.
Thwap.
"I'm running out of cards," Lisbon muttered.
Thwap.
"Me too," Jane agreed.
Thwap.
Thunk.
"Ha," Jane said triumphantly.
"Don't gloat," Lisbon told him.
Thwap.
"A bit hypocritical, don't you think, dear?" he asked.
Thwap.
"I didn't gloat," she reminded him haughtily. "I just pointed out when you missed the bowl. It was an observation."
Thwap.
"Your gloating was implied," Jane told her.
Thwap.
"It was not!" Lisbon objected indignantly.
Thwap.
"Course not," Jane agreed with a grin.
Thwap.
She scowled.
Thunk.
Her scowl turned into a smirk.
"Oh hush, woman" he murmured.
Thwap.
"I didn't say anything," she said.
Thwap.
"My powers of perception are such that you no longer need to speak for me to understand your meaning," Jane told her.
Thwap.
Lisbon ignored that. "If I was going to say something, I'm sure it would have been something along the lines of pride going before the fall."
Thwap.
"But clearly you had no intention of saying anything," Jane said.
Thwap.
"Clearly."
Thwap.
Thwap.
"I'm out of cards," Lisbon said matter-of-factly.
Thwap.
"I see that," Jane said. He wasn't surprised. He only had a couple left himself.
"It's your turn to get them," Lisbon informed him.
Thwap.
"Is it?" he asked her amused.
Thwap.
"Yes."
"And if I don't?" he asked curiously.
She stared at him for a minute. "Then I guess we're going to sit here for a while doing nothing, until I get fed up and go back to my office, where there are lights and heat."
Jane considered that for a second.
He made a point of not always doing exactly as she asked most of the time, just to keep her on her toes, but on the other hand he didn't want her to leave. And she might, leave that is. Not the building, he was fairly sure of that, but his attic. So Jane gave an exaggerated sigh before getting up, collecting the cards, and solemnly handing her half the deck.
Her lip quirked up in thanks.
She waited until he was settled opposite her again before resuming her tossing.
Thwap.
Thwap.
Their rhythm was almost soothing really, Jane thought.
He studied her surreptitiously.
His partner in defeating crime. She was his partner really, the one he always chose to help him with his plans whenever possible. Always Lisbon. He loved setting up traps to catch her killer for her, while she simultaneously tried to figure out what he was doing. It was becoming a private (if unspoken) little game between the two of them, seeing who could figure things out first. And he liked impressing her when he could. She was hard to impress.
It wouldn't have been nearly as much fun setting up his elaborate traps without her around to help him close them.
He remembered visiting her hotel room in the middle of the night to fetch her. She hadn't been happy with him, but she'd come. She always did.
His mind flashed back to Teresa Lisbon in her sleepwear, the sports jersey. Chicago, of course, though the team hadn't been what he'd focussed on. He'd been too busy trying not to look at her (and failing miserably).
Luckily she'd been too tired to notice.
Sleepy Lisbon was an awfully alluring sight, even if she was grumpy.
But then, she almost always was. He snuck another glance her way.
She wasn't exactly captivating; her personality wasn't what you'd call magnetic. She was something else entirely, something subtler. And she was definitely alluring. Different. Even enchanting.
She was a woman who would sit in the dark tossing cards into a bowl with a friend on a bad day.
Because she knew he was upset, but he didn't want to talk about it.
He wondered what else she saw about him.
He was worried that she did see the truth. That she knew what he wanted; how deep his desire for revenge went. She had to know he was keeping things from her. He didn't think she knew what, though she probably had her suspicions. He'd probably kept that much from her.
He was terrified that she didn't see another truth, didn't understand. That she had no idea how much he cared about her. Part of him really wished she did. Except that what if Red John found out?
And it was all so selfish anyway.
He was going to commit murder, or be murdered.
That was almost a certainty.
And he refused to lie to her about Red John.
He didn't like lying to her. He really didn't. He hadn't even lied to her when she'd guessed that Todd's apparent change of heart had been all bluff.
He just couldn't for some reason.
She deserved that.
But he especially couldn't lie to her about Red John. He had to make sure she understood.
It would probably be better if he could, lie about it that is. There was far less chance of her stopping him if she thought he was beginning to have doubts about committing murder.
Jane knew it was going to crush her when he killed the monster (which was something he'd really prefer not to think about).
It was why he couldn't lie to her about it.
He'd cost her so much already.
But he also couldn't change his mind.
He couldn't.
Thwap.
Thwap.
"I'm out of cards again," Lisbon said.
Thwap.
"Me too," Jane agreed.
"Do I want to know how you managed to divide the deck exactly equally?" she wondered.
"It's a gift," he said with a shrug.
She rolled her eyes.
"I believe it's your turn to get the cards," he prodded.
"Jane," she said.
"Yes Lisbon?"
"I'm hungry," she told him.
He tried not to be disappointed. Of course she was. It was getting late. She had a life. Of course she wanted to leave.
"I want pizza," she continued.
"Rigsby would be proud," he said lightly.
"Do you want any?" she asked. "We could split it. If we ordered it now it'd be at my place around the time we got there."
He started decline before hesitating.
"We could bring the cards. Maybe even play some poker," Lisbon cajoled, knowing he was wavering and she almost had him. "You can sleep on my couch afterwards, since it'll be late."
Jane stared at her. She'd trapped him. That was all there was to it. She'd come up here, gotten him used to her company, and now she was taunting him with an evening in her company, one that included gambling and greasy food. Vixen.
Although... Maybe he did need a break, a distraction from his jumbled thoughts. He wasn't going to make any headway tonight anyway. Maybe it would even help his subconscious mind sort a few things out.
He met her eyes, saw the worry, the silent plea. Saw his friend, the woman who cared about him.
"Only if the pizza's Hawaiian," he told her.
Lisbon smiled. Her favourite. "Okay."
Jane rose, grabbed the cards and offered her a hand to help her up before ushering her out of the attic.
He'd let her win this round, ease her mind for one night.
Maybe he couldn't give her Red John, but he could give her this.
He hoped it was enough. For both of them.
xxxxxx
The end
