Disclaimer: ok, wait a sec, let me check on my legal papers...no, it's not here, not even here, ah, wait, I got it! Uhm, nope, I don't own the mentalist... I barely create using them, hoping that someone in the right place will see the light and give me a bit of Jisbon every now and then...
a/n: guess what? today I finished tiping it! So, it's now official, consideirng the epilogue, this story will be 18 chapters long BUT I'm already working on something new, developed right from the season finale...
Minelli calls him in the late afternoon, telling him something happened at Lisbon's place. He is reluctant about giving away any kind of particular. Jane doesn't need to prey too much to understand it's a police matter, that cops are somehow involved (what cop, he is quite sure to know it).
His silence scares the hell out of the old cop, making him talk. A silent Jane is never a good sign, Lisbon is the one delaying with him, but there are few things he knows as well about this man.
"She has been attacked, Jane, but… he never got to do her any damage, she has been good at defending herself, like the cop I trust her to be." The name is never said, but they both know who they are talking about, the same man who didn't make any mystery of the fact he was ashamed his girlfriend got pregnant, that he didn't care at all about this child, that she should have taken an abortion, just "out of respect for my firstborns and my wife".
Jane doesn't talk. He can't. He is overwhelmed with memories of a dark room, his master bedroom, by the small of blood, the smiley and their bodies. Her body is well. He wonders if it can be said the same about her mind.
He hoped to have a son. He wants to have a son. And he wants to have him with her. He can't lose the baby, he can't lose her, not now, not after so long, not when he is just few steps shy from getting her again and this time for good.
"She is in shock, though, and will have few bruises" He is suddenly enraged. He can't wait to get to him, to get to Bosco, to make him pay for what he did to her. He always knew he didn't love her, that he was just using her, for fun, but went to deep, but this? Hurting her out of a wounded pride? He can't forgive him, he will not forgive him. He has to pay, has to learn to let her stay, to let it go when she says no, when any woman says no. "He hasn't been that lucky. Lisbon put one between his eyes. She should be cleared soon, though, I don't think there will be any doubt about the fact that it was just self-defense. Her neighbors heard him screaming, and the ME says the alcohol level in his blood was pretty high. Besides, the place is trashed, and Lisbon is already being checked at the hospital, and soon we'll have physical evidence that he tried to abuse her."
Jane gets silent, but Minelli is pretty sure he can hear a sound in the background, something like a roar. He doesn't know what's going on between his consultant and Lisbon, doesn't want, doesn't need to. He knows there is something, that there has been something ( she did stormed out of his office, when they were introduced, the very first day of Jane on the job. It was clear they already knew each other. He doesn't care how and when and what, though, there's just the fact, people think he is stupid, but, really, there's a reason he is a Senior Agent in Charge of a whole department) and he has a feeling it's deep. Jane and Lisbon are close, that close, so close, very close… not as much as he is, because it's different for him (he is her boss, and he like to think of himself of some kind of a father figure), so he can only imagine what the blonde consultant is going through.
It's already horrible knowing that something did happen to her, but for him, for a man who already lost everything he cared for' it has to be hell on Earth. No wonders he can't even say a word.
"Jane, Bosco didn't get to sexually abuse her. he had hit her , though, and he had all the intentions of… " he stops, and Jane feels, hears it. Minelli's teeth are clenched, he is that close to hissing, he can't even manage to say the words at loud. Not when it comes to her, not when it comes to Lisbon. "that's when she defended herself."
"Where… do you think I could talk with her, see her? or even just…. If she doesn't want to see me… just… knowing she is all right it's just enough for me, so… I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'd like to…"
He cuts him off. He doesn't need to hear an apology, doesn't need to hear Jane saying how grateful he is for sharing this vital piece of information with him. there's no need to, Minelli knows the feelings, he understands it. "Jane, she wouldn't see any member of the team. You know Lisbon, she can't stand people seeing her when she is not at her best, when she is so frail. But…"
"but?" he asks, with hope in his heart, hearing the man taking a deep breath -he is almost adamant Minelli know something.
"Her aunt, Miss Guinevere Lisbon, her next of kin, told me they'd like to talk with you. She is waiting for you at the mother of mercy hospital." He is already taking his jacket, looking for his keys, while he process this new information.
An aunt. Katy had just one aunt, and she was still with the carnie, last time he checked. There's only one chance, yes, it has to be that way. He isn't going to see, to meet, her aunt. Minelli was talking about Veronica Asterson, and he didn't even know it. He was talking about her mother, her real mother, the one who took her away from him so many years ago.
He runs towards his car. He never cared about speed limits, he isn't going to care right now. He has to see her, has to see them, to see Katy, to see Veronica. He has to learn the truth behind their escape. And then, he'll go to her, to his Katy, he'll tell her everything, his part of the truth.
They're going to have their happily ever after they've always wanted, they've always deserved.
It's the second time in few days he is sitting outside an hospital room, her hospital room, waiting for news about her and their child (even if just few days before he didn't know the baby was really his, biologically, at least). Like that time, he is tapping his feet against the cold marble pavement.
He wonders who had the stupid idea to pout marble in an hospital. It's just plain hazardous, is asking for falls to take place (and not of trust kind). Besides, people in waiting rooms gets nervous, very, very, nervous, and they can't help but tapping their heels against the pavements, which is quite an annoying sound.
And he is the one doing it. He really has to be nervous to be annoyed by something he is doing. It never happened before. He isn't that surprised, though. He has always been known to do strange things, to act strangely when Katy was involved.
And right now there's just one door between him and the girl he has never forgot, never stopped thinking about. It's just a door between him and her, between him and her, his, their child. He can't stop looking at it, he can't stop staring impatiently at it, like it could open just thinking about it.
"You've always wanted everything and as soon as you saw it." a feminine voice awakens him from his reverie and from his brand new obsession. He turns, and here she is. Different, but the same nonetheless.
Veronica Asterson, Katy's mother. Guinevere Lisbon, the woman who, for the law, is her aunt. She hasn't changed a bit.
Her body, that, of course, is different. Last time he saw her, Veronica was just 32, and it has been 20 years ago. Many things can happen in 20 years, many things can change, and few remain the same. Like her eyes, the same shade of Lisbon's contacts, the greenest he has ever seen, or her charm, her elegance. He still remembers how nice she looked with her costume, the knee-length dresses as soft as a cloud, how elegant she always was, even in their world, and the fact still remains. She is extremely elegant and looking in her suite, black pants and vests, her red shirt, all suited for her age. She doesn't have too much make-up, her few white hair are well visible between the brown locks, and it doesn't seem she has been to a surgeon. She has always been fresh, always classy, never fake, never artificial, and that's another thing that hasn't changed in the years they haven't seen each other.
"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm not the only one who didn't change so much, after all" he smirks, just a little, giving her a sideway look. Her eyes are focused on the door, and the lines, the proud lines she isn't scared of showing, are indication enough of how much worried she is for her daughter: deep down she is still her little Katy, like a part of him will always consider Charlotte his little girl, no matter what.
They stay in silence for quite a long while, it's not forced, it's not uncomfortable. It's the kind of silence used to fill the void, the empty spaces, and the silence is better than the alternative- thinking she may be hurt, that the baby may be gone.
Until she starts to cry- not cry, not exactly, she is more like sobbing. And he does the only thing he think he could do, unaware that years prior his father did the same thing- he takes her in his arms, and embraces her. It's quite awkward, but he guesses it's the gesture and its meaning, not the way he holds her, to makes it matter.
It has to be… weird for her as well, because the woman now known as Guinevere forces herself out of his arms, and laughs, almost hysterical, a single note before starting to look at the door once again.
There are tears on her face, but there' no trace of them in her voice. "I was born here in California, you know? Palmdale, we used to call it "nothing to do California"…And then, when I was 15, one day, the fair come to town. That's where I met him" she pauses. Jane has cold-red enough people in his life to recognize the signs. She is ashamed, she feels guilty. He studies her, and is pretty sure she is reading his mind right now, understanding where she is going. "It's where I first met Frank. He tried to play the piano, it was a small number, and did few things every now and then. He was nothing of special, he wasn't even plain… and… people kept telling me I was a great performer, but I wasn't having my chance, and… believe me Patrick, I'm not being vain in telling you that my baby girl took her looks after me… it's just that….as a small town girl, as it sounds even though we were only sixty miles from Hollywood, I knew he was as close to show-business as I was ever going to get. So, I kept coming back, day after day and night after night, and on the fifth night, after a couple of drinks… nine months later, my Katy was born."
"Don't tell me that getting pregnant of her was stupid" he cuts her off, sad and desperate, knowing where she is going, scared of the places she could go to, of what she could say. He doesn't want to contemplate the idea of a world where she isn't there, can't. Life is enough horrible and sad as it is. "maybe the time wasn't right, and you were young, but… don't tell me you regret her, please"
She smiles at him, sadly but fondly, messing with his hair, like she did few times when he was more or less a kid looking for troubles. "One day, few weeks after I got birth, he called out of the blue, showed up at my doorstep. He took the news well, told me he wanted to get involved, Frank even offered to take her off my hands, but I told him no. I was too fond of her, she was my little girl and I loved her with a passion, and besides…"
"Parents" he simply states looking at his crossed hands in his lap. I'll do the honorable and right thing, sir, just like you thought me to. He knows the feeling. He remembers the feeling. He went through the same things, just like hers. She just nods. "What happened? Why did you escape? I know that Frank was hurting you, I saw the cuts and the bruises on Katy's arms, but he was gone…"
"Yes, he was Patrick." she cries, sill silently, until, in a matter of seconds, she takes her face into her palms. This time she is desperate, this time she doesn't hold back. He just stares at her, looking for an answer. Any answer.
"I know that's what I just…." He pauses, because now he gets it, now he is seeing the light for the first time in over 20 years. Katy and her mother didn't just want a way out, they needed it, they needed because of what they had done.
Veronica Asterson doesn't stop crying as she tells him everything. It's been 20 years, but there hasn't been a day she hasn't feel the ache in her chest, the fear and the pain and the regret and the guilt.
Katy hits Frank with teary eyes, with closed eyes, with her small hands, her small fits, while he tries to feels her, when he asks her if she is horny, if thinking about that scum who screwed her made her wet, tells her he doesn't care if she isn't ready, though, because he is there to teach a lesson and a lesson she'll learn.
Then she hears a sound, terrible, and he stops, and she feels blood on her, and she wonders for a second if it's hers. She is sure he killed her.
But, then, she opens her eyes, and at the door, here she is, her mother, standing with an iron for clothes in her hands, one of the old ones, of the heavy ones, of the nasty ones. She sees it, running on it, thick, cold blood, and something grey. She knows what it is but doesn't want to think about this fact.
Avoiding the dead body with the open skull on the pavement, she runs to her mother, and embraces her, without stopping crying.
Veronica doesn't stop to stare at the figure on the soil, a man she used to love, now just a monster, a monster who was planning of hurting her little girl. She'll never forgive him, and, in her defense, she is grateful it came to this. he deserved it.
As wrong as it may be, she feels great, she doesn't think she has ever felt that good.
One moment later, Alex is inside with her. Katy doesn't think he heard what her mum did. She thinks he heard her crying, and decided to do something about it (Rick's wrong, his father can be a good man). He is the one giving her a robe to cover herself up, because Veronica is still staring at the dead body, not with horror, by hate, and rage.
She'd probably like to kill him again and again and again.
"We have to bring him away from here, far from there. Nobody can know what you did! Nobody will have to know what your mother did, Katy, you hear me? you can't tell anyone, not even Patrick!" Alex begs her, scared. He is hugging her, he is shaking her for the shoulders, and she can't stop crying. "Katy, I know what he did to you and your mother. he deserved it, and I know she did it to defend you two, but we have to make sure your family doesn't find it out, all right?" she nods, and wonders if he really knows it, if he really knows her father was going to rape her because she has slept with son of the who's saving them.
Next morning, there's no trace of Frank Asterson left. His pick-up has ended in the deepness of a canyon, never to see the light again, and the man and the two women are driving back to the place they call home.
They'll just think he got wasted yet again, somewhere, or got himself in troubles bigger than him. they'll wait for him for a while, they'll not look for him, because that's who and what and how he is, or better yet…was.
"Couple of weeks later, we went into hiding, new names, new papers, new lives. Thanks to your dad."
"he never told me." he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He doesn't understand why Alex did it.
"He didn't want for us to be traceable, in case the body would resurface. Which didn't happen. Don't blame this on him, Patrick he just was trying to do what was best for us all." she pauses, and answers his question, the one he didn't do. "we tried to talk him into joining us, but he said that rule number one of the con is never staying too long in the same place, and number two, avoiding forming groups too big…."
She kisses him on the hair like a mother would, like she sometimes did in the past, with that huge smile, that bright and sunny smile, and then enters in her daughter's room. She is giving him space, space and time to think things over. And he needs it.
He has always thought his father was a bastard. He isn't that sure any longer.