A/N: My head hurts and I have an interview. That is all.
Thank you to: LizfromItaly, Sarcastic Pygmy, LAurore, dwennie, Viktorija, lisbon69, yaba, autumnftw, Angelic dEvil xo, anthropologist, Frogster, forthecoast, Ebony10 and boutondor for reviewing part thirteen. Thank you so much for your support during this fic - I don't think I'd be on the verge of finishing it in time for the monthly challenge without you.
x tromana
Part Fourteen
Red John was left under the highest protection, but still, he died.
He had plenty of enemies, even when trapped in a secure prison cell. Any number of people could have slipped in, done the deed and slipped out again, if they tried hard enough.
And no one would have doubted he deserved it either. He had slaughtered nineteen innocent people that they knew of. Possibly countless more that they didn't, too.
But officially, Red John himself became his twentieth victim.
He'd even taken the time to daub the smiley face on the wall of the cell. Of course, he couldn't finish himself off with his trusty blade; that and any other sharp object, wasn't allowed anywhere near him. Instead, it was poison that he had somehow managed to smuggle in with him.
It seemed he wanted to take the answers to all the questions surrounding him and his mysteries to the grave.
The main one simply being: why?
Cho was informed of his death twenty four hours before Teresa Lisbon's funeral.
He'd been trying to relax with Elise, trying desperately to keep death off of his mind. Almost trying to pretend that the recent events hadn't happened at all.
That tomorrow was just any old day.
That Lisbon, the little spitfire that she was, would stalk into work and complain about how the unit had gone into complete disarray during her absence. She would take charge, straighten everything up, give Patrick Jane an almighty kick up the butt and then they'd be off.
To solve crimes, like they always did.
Like the professionals they were.
Elise didn't need to ask him what was wrong as he quietly bid the caller farewell. Kimball had been so tense since his last incursion with Red John and justifiably so. She didn't even need to go into their offices to know that it was like the team had had a limb amputated. Or even been decapitated. It was hard to judge which so close to the event.
Besides, Kimball had always talked so passionately about his boss. Not in a way that it seem like she was a threat to their relationship. She knew that there was nothing going on between them, they were like siblings. Elise's relationship with Kimball was safe, secure.
It was more of a case that she gave him drive, a fire in his belly during working hours, not that he'd ever show it.
And any woman who could do that to Kimball Cho was worthy of admiration in her opinion.
The only problem was that Elise doubted that Kimball had ever actually told Lisbon half of the things he'd told her.
Now, he would never have the chance.
Sighing, she allowed her fingers to move deftly over his shoulders, trying desperately to alleviate some of the tension that Kimball was carrying around with him.
She knew it was to little, or no avail.
Besides, he was too busy informing Van Pelt of Red John's suicide. The thought of death usually saddened her, even though both herself and Kimball worked closely to it in their own ways. His death was one she couldn't be sad about though.
At least Lisbon hadn't died for nothing.
Still, tomorrow was going to be a long day.
000
Rigsby held a tie up against his shirt and stared at his reflection.
It was the tie that went best with this shirt and he knew it. Only problem was, Lisbon hated it. She'd said so on more than one occasion, always expressing disgust whenever he wore it into work. Such was her distaste, she even threatened to incinerate it once.
Which was going a bit far, considering it was just an innocent tie.
He smirked slightly at the memory, but threw the tie down as he did so. It wasn't an option, not really. If he dared wear that tie to her funeral, she'd find a way of haunting him or something. That would just be so very like her.
Then again, it still hadn't quite sunk in that she was actually gone.
Everything had happened so fast. And added on top of that, Red John's death too. It was all getting a little hard to comprehend.
Scowling at the clothing dilemma, Rigsby quickly shrugged out of his shirt and pulled another one out of his closet.
Women assumed that men had it easier when it came to clothing options when in actuality, it was harder. There was so little to choose from and it was so restrictive.
If only that damn shirt actually went with a tie that Lisbon liked.
If only she hadn't died at all.
Okay, so he may have been considering leaving the CBI, or at least transferring out of the unit. Working with Van Pelt when she wouldn't give him the time of day, no thanks to Agent Hightower, was hard. Cho didn't make things any easier and neither did Jane. But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the work, didn't want to see any of his colleagues ever again.
Certainly didn't want any of them dead.
All he wanted was a new challenge, new surroundings. Not a new boss because some son of a bitch had decided he wanted to make life worse for Patrick Jane.
Death was just too permanent.
And that scared Rigsby just a little.
He'd always imagined Lisbon being around one way or another. Always there to answer any questions he had when it came to the job, regardless of whether or not he was actually one of her subordinates. He could've been working in another state, another country even, but she would have always been more than happy to help.
Why? Because he was one of Mother Teresa's brood - that's why.
Rigsby jumped when he heard a car horn from outside of his window. Cho had agreed that they should travel to the funeral together. It made more sense than taking more cars than necessary.
He finally sorted out a tie and gave his appearance one last check in the mirror. It'd do. She would approve, at least.
As he was struggling with this whole debacle, he dreaded to imagine how Jane was coping.
000
Van Pelt took her seat beside Rigsby, glad they were all together. Glad they had the support of one another on such a terrible occasion.
The turnout was smaller than she expected, but there were a lot of people she recognized from work.
It seemed like almost the entire CBI had turned up. That was good. Lisbon deserved it. Despite her reserved nature, she had been well-liked in the office and it showed.
She tried her hardest, but found she couldn't listen to the words being spoken. Normally, Van Pelt was the first to seek solace in words from the bible, but somehow, they just felt hollow. Maybe she was just feeling too sad to be reflective on the situation at the moment?
Instead, she shredded the tissue in her hand.
Somehow, it felt more productive.
She couldn't look to her right for too long. Not at the coffin, not knowing who was in there. Of course, Van Pelt was more than aware of just how dangerous their job was, but she had never considered the fact that one of them would actually die.
It was one thing to be shot when wearing a Kevlar vest or to break a leg during a fall. Another thing entirely to be stabbed to death by a serial killer.
All because of one fatal decision.
If Lisbon hadn't decided to go and look at the abandoned car alone, if she'd had back up, they might have had a chance of apprehending Red John there.
Or, more than one of them could be dead.
But at least then, she wouldn't feel the dreadful guilt in the pit of her stomach.
Every so often, she glanced to her left and right, trying to register the feelings of her co-workers. Cho was staring hard to the front, Rigsby clearly trying to listen to every word uttered, occasionally nodding in agreement when a speaker offered glowing praise for Lisbon. Jane just looked as hollow as she felt.
Part of her expected some sort of ruckus between Jane and Lisbon's brothers at some point during the day. She'd known that they had gotten together a little while before her death, they all had, though Lisbon was more tense during their brief affair. What she hadn't known was that they had been married before, however. Shortly after Jane's first wife died and before he had joined the CBI as a permanent consultant.
Unfortunately, she wasn't disappointed. The moment they were outside of the church, the eldest punched Jane square on the nose, accusing him of killing his elder sister and had to be actively restrained by the other two.
Van Pelt could practically imagine Lisbon's humiliation at the show and that made things all the worse.
She was dreading work in the morning.
And just how Patrick Jane would react from now on, though he hadn't actually confirmed whether or not he would continue working with them.
To lose one wife was terrible. To lose two, however…
TBC…