Author's Note: Thanks again for all the reviews and follows! It's been wonderful to hear all your opinions and I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing this :D There's a lot more to come! Btw, I'm leaving town this weekend so I'm not going to have my computer around, so there's going to be a little break from updating. But don't worry, I haven't forgotten you or this story, and I'll update as soon as I have the chance! But here's Chapter 3 for you :)
It's been eight months since Jane's death, but I really haven't noticed the time passing. I'm so caught up in trying to catch Red John that I've lost all my sense of time.
Every single day I go through all the files searching for his mistakes, searching for clues. I've taken Jane's attic to my Red John office and I kind of understand why he liked to come here. This place really gives you all the silence you need, a chance to be all alone and concentrate on your work and nothing else.
And through these months I've started to understand his obsession better, too, because right now, I'm just like him. I have no life, Red John is the only thing that matters now. It's funny how all these years I wanted to catch Red John, but now it's more than that. Now I must, I need to. Revenge makes everything feel so much different.
And it somehow feels soothing to go through all the files again and again, trying to make a breakthrough, because being obsessed with revenge, I don't have to think about anything else.
I haven't shut out my team completely, because they've been helping me with the hunt for Red John and of course we work together still. But nothing's the same anymore. Through the first half year after Jane's death they wanted me to talk about him, wanted me to grieve him but I just couldn't take it. And finally they gave up trying and we stopped talking. Completely.
I know my team talked a lot about Jane through those months and they all got over his death one by one. They all have dealt with their pain and accepted his death.
I haven't. Every time they started talking, I had to leave, because I couldn't take it. It has been eight months, but still I haven't grieved for him properly. I've been blocking everything out and with concentrating on catching Red John it has been fairly easy.
But sometimes it scares me when I see myself through my team's eyes. There's nothing more than Red John, nothing more than this obsession. I work endless hours, I don't sleep or eat well, I don't take care of myself, I look terrible.
I look like he looked when I first met him. And that should scare me, because I know this is not healthy, but I'm too deep already. I have accepted that this is my life now. Only Red John, nothing else. After Red John it'll all be different. It has to.
As I walk to the bullpen, I feel sad seeing my team being like a family and knowing that I'm not part of them anymore. I try to convince myself that it's easier this way.
I just keep telling myself that when Red John is dead, I can let go. That the pain will fade away when Jane is free and at peace.
Finally, a little over year after Jane's death, Red John starts killing again, but this time it's sloppy and hasty. He seems to have lost it. Like nothing makes sense. Like he wants to get caught. He makes some pretty stupid mistakes and we're able to track him down.
Everything happens too easy and I just wonder why he wants us to find him. Is this some kind of trap? Or why does he suddenly want to get caught?
As I stand in front him with my gun raised, he just sits there on his chair in a dark basement and seems like a man who's lost his reason to live. He doesn't try to fight or escape, he just looks at me and continues his monologue through his tears.
"How could he do this to me?" he asks me over and over again. I didn't know what to expect from this final showdown with the demon, who we've chased for far too long, but surely I wasn't prepared for this. "What reason do I have to keep on killing, when my favorite toy is gone? How could he do this to me? All my killing is now in vain. I had so many lovely surprises for him. Our game hadn't even started; the best part was yet to come."
He sighs heavily. I feel sick realizing that I'm not the only one still grieving for Jane. Red John actually misses him. He's actually sad over Jane's death.
What is wrong with this world?
"You were one of those surprises", he continues completely unaware of my shock. "I wanted to kill you and see how much it would hurt him. I had so many different ways and I was just waiting for the right moment. Maybe after he'd told you about his feelings? But he never had the chance to do that, did he?"
My mask is shaking a bit but I bite my lip and say nothing.
Red John isn't looking at me. I'm not even sure he realizes I'm here to kill him. He just shakes his head and wipes his tears away. I can't believe this pathetic sad man is really the same serial killer we've been chasing. It doesn't make any sense.
"But killing you now makes no difference. Killing anyone he ever loved – it won't do any good. He's gone. He won this game, he won me, dying by his own hand! I can't take it! I need him, agent. I just want to him to come back. I miss him so much."
I say nothing. I have nothing to say. I wait with my gun, so I can shoot him in self-defense.
"In my own way, I loved him", he says sadly. "Maybe not as much as you did, but still. You must think that's weird? But love is strange, you'll never understand it, it just happens. He was a dear friend to me. I just want to play with him again."
He looks at me with tortured eyes and I feel sick. I thought he would be happy that Jane died, that he'd laugh at me, that he'd hurt me more. But it was never me he was playing with but Jane. And now that Jane's gone, he has no one to play with.
"He's not coming back", he finally says. "All this time I waited, hoped, but now I know, he's gone. For good. You and I both have to start dealing with it."
"Shut up", I say coldly, tears suddenly burning in my eyes. I blink them rapidly away and he gives me a little mocking smile. "Don't you ever dare talk about him after all the pain you've caused him. This is your fault. It's your fault he's dead! You deserve your pain and so much more."
My hands are shaking and I try to calm down. Red John just looks at me.
"I want it to be over", he says and takes his gun and aims at me but doesn't really try to fire me, he just wants it to be over. And I'm more than glad to grant his final wish. Gunshots echo in the silence and I watch as Red John falls.
It's over.
My heart beats loudly in my chest and I breathe heavily in and out still not believing what just happened. I wait for something. I wait for relief or happiness or pain but nothing comes. There's just cold emptiness inside me.
"Now you're finally free", I whisper but Jane doesn't answer me. I hope wherever he is, he still hears me somehow.
I lower my gun and finally feel a smile coming to my lips. Jane's free, I did it. I finished his revenge for him, now he can finally rest in peace.
When Cho and Rigsby reach the basement, I feel faint and light-headed and can hardly register what's happening. There are voices, flashlights pointed at me, Van Pelt hugging me tightly and telling me how afraid she was to lose me too. I hug her back while more people enter the basement. The sirens are howling in the distance.
The only thing I can think about is that it's over. It's finally over.
When we return to the office, the shock has faded away and everyone seems to realize what this means. It's over, he's dead. We won. There are tears of joy and laughter and glasses raised and everyone's just so overwhelmed.
And they toast for Jane and laugh and cry at the same time.
After a while, I slowly walk away from the party and retreat to my attic and just sit there God knows how long. I thought killing Red John would change everything, that the pain would fade away and I'd be ready to let Jane go. I'm so happy that he's free, but…
But I'm still not.
I drive home and go to my bed. I stare at the ceiling trying very hard not to think about him, but it's too late. Everything crashes over me like a tidal wave, all the memories, all the little moments, all the hidden smiles, all the pain, all the words left unsaid, everything just breaks free.
I let the tears come and scream to my pillow, wanting it all to be over. His face is so vivid, so beautiful, so alive that I'd give anything to touch it.
After a year of blocking everything out I thought the memories would have faded. But it feels like the more I tried to fight against them, the more powerful they got. They are so crystal clear, so precise, so vivid. Everything is there, everything is so alive, and it makes me almost believe that he's here.
Tears keep running down my face as I get out of my bed. I know I shouldn't do this, but the pain is too unbearable.
I open my closet and take his suit jacket down, bury my face into it and try to catch his scent, try to get some comfort. I hug the jacket tightly and try to imagine him holding me.
But his scent is long gone. His jacket is just constantly wet from my tears.
I turn off the light, curl up in a ball, hug his jacket tightly against my chest and pray for a dreamless night.
