Mend This Tear- chapter one
DISCLAIMER: The Mentalist does not belong to me. It is the creation of Bruno Heller. I'm writing this fiction to express my love for the series and maybe vent a little.
Author's Note: This is so embarrassing, but to those who've already read the original prologue, I uploaded a new one so please go back and read that before this chapter. I apologize profusely. I had so much trouble with the story and ended up reworking the entire format. It's the same plot, I just realized I needed to set up some groundwork for it. Now that I (hopefully) know what I'm doing I promise to get chapters out quicker, so please bear with me. Again, I'm so sorry about the confusion.
CBI attic; after Todd Johnson's arrest.
Upon their return to Sacramento, Jane had retreated to his attic, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Todd. The cop killer had been transferred to CBI, and even though Jane knew he was in lock up, he couldn't help the lingering fear of being in the same room with him.
It wasn't rational. With all the close calls he's had over the years, Patrick thought he'd built a pretty good defense against lasting effects from psychos; psychos who weren't Red John anyway.
This guy shouldn't have been more than a blip on my radar, he thought.
But the criminal's words and freaky eyes disturbed Jane; as did the obscurity surrounding his motivations.
Why cops?
Fed up with contemplating the creep, Jane concluded that Todd was just another mentally disturbed man.
Who knows why the hell they do what they do, he told himself.
He had a more important person to brood over.
Lisbon had really gotten under his skin during this case.
In more ways than one, he thought, remembering his brief glimpse of a 'just woken up' Lisbon.
But what had really set his blood boiling; and not in a good way, had been his talk with her about revenge.
The catalyst had been Teresa preaching to Todd (whom at the time was just a bereaved fiancée as far as they both knew) that revenge didn't work.
It had annoyed Jane. She was either saying that stuff for his benefit or she was being a hypocrite.
Either way, he hadn't been able to keep quiet.
"Well that's a sweeping statement isn't it? I'm sure we could all think of examples where revenge worked splendidly."
Lisbon hadn't been amused.
"Thanks for your input," she'd stated, clearly displeased with him. But Patrick hadn't really cared. It had felt good to say, to get off his chest.
It could have ended there. But Lisbon hadn't been able to hold her peace on the matter either.
Later, in the privacy of the car, she chastised him on the inappropriateness of his comment.
"Examples where revenge worked splendidly. Nice."
"Oh I was just teasing," he'd said, playing down his annoyance before explaining its source, "A little hypocritical of you to lecture him on revenge, don't you think?"
As far as he was concerned, Lisbon had practically been asking for it.
"How's that?" Lisbon demanded, indignant.
"Uh, all these years you've been helping me seek revenge."
He found it strange, and a bit disconcerting, that he had to point the fact out to her. Like she didn't realize that's what she was doing.
"That's different," she declared.
It was his turn to ask for an explanation.
"How's that?"
"I'm in control of the situation." Teresa was annoyed that she had to spell it out for him.
"Oh, really." Jane was quick to scoff, dismissing the reply as just a flimsy excuse for her double standard.
But when she changed the subject to the case, it occurred to him that she might have been serious. And if she was, that created a concern for Jane he needed addressed.
After answering her query regarding the victim's bike, Patrick backtracked to their earlier topic.
"What do you mean you're in control of the situation?" he asked, turning towards her expectantly; entirely focused.
He had to know.
"When the day comes, when we find Red John I'm going to be there to stop you from doing anything foolish. We're gonna put him in front of a judge and a jury."
"You really believe that?" He'd asked, eyes searching thoroughly for any indication that she was bluffing.
"Yes I do."
"Really?" he asked once more, though he didn't see any tells of deception, "I just assumed you took that judge and jury stuff with a grain of salt."
It was a lie. Jane knew Lisbon had been serious about arresting Red John the first time he told her his intention for revenge almost two years ago. But what Jane had assumed was that she'd eventually come around to his point of view.
"Well you assumed wrong. No salt," she stated, confirming his suspicions.
It must have been wishful thinking on my part, Jane thought, gazing at her intently.
Couldn't she see that Red John would never be imprisoned? That he deserved to die? Did she really think Jane would allow his family's butcher to be placed in the flimsy hands of the legal system? Where he'd probably escape before a trial date could even be set?
Over my dead body.
"You know the reality will be different. Red John is mine, and I will exact my revenge on him," he'd said, his tone hard. Patrick wasn't sure if it was a threat, or a warning, but he wanted Lisbon to have no uncertainties whatsoever regarding his intentions.
She had to know.
Interestingly, (and frustratingly) his vow didn't affect her as much as he thought it would.
"I think, when the time comes, you'll see that violence is not the answer." Lisbon chose her words carefully, leaving no room for argument.
Jane had been almost insulted by the calmness of her tone; even though he knew it was forced.
The rest of the ride was silent. But when they reached the local sheriff's office, Jane's irritation had bubbled over and he found himself mocking her.
"I had no idea your naive optimism was so deeply grounded," he scorned.
"Hush." Teresa refused to be goaded.
"Hush," he mimicked her, for lack of a cleverer retort.
But 'hush' was a good word, Jane decided. It was safe, familiar, and brought them back to more even ground.
Then Ellis Mars approached Lisbon and his attempt to play psychic allowed them to share an amused grin at his expense.
And just like that, they were back to normal.
Normal? Who are you trying to kid Patrick?
Jane closed his eyes.
Hello Angela, he said wearily, stealing himself for the affectionate lecture he knew was coming.
Normal is when you don't threaten your boss. Normal is when you don't undermine her in front of her boss. Normal is-
You know what honey, I'm sorry, but could you leave me alone for a while, I've got a lot on my mind right now.
Normal is when you don't ogle your boss's sleepwear, Angela continued, undettered.
Here Jane actually blushed.
I didn't 'ogle' her.
Oh, sure, you tried to be a gentleman and look away. But it wasn't easy was it? I mean, how cute was she in that huge jersey? It was practically falling off of her.
It's not like I haven't seen her in one before, Jane argued.
Yeah, but you sure weren't as interested at the time, were you? I saw you trying to look through the peephole, and trying to find a gap in her curtain.
Seriously Angela, you can go away now, he said crossly.
Aww, you were always cute when you pout.
Patrick smiled ruefully to himself, closing his eyes against the mist.
He missed her so much.
Before he could lost himself in bittersweet memories, Jane heard familiar footsteps approaching his door. He barely managed to compose himself before the woman in question appeared. Lisbon told him told him that Todd wanted to see him. He had a secret to tell.
"A secret huh?"
"That's what he said. That you were the only one who would understand. That you and he had and connection."
"Meh. He's just trying to lend an air of mystery to his sad little story of madness."
That had been Jane's final conclusion. It didn't answer his questions but would at least allow him to move on and forget the disturbing case.
Only Lisbon wasn't cooperating. She's been doing that a lot lately, he noted.
"The case would go a lot easier if he talks," she pointed out.
"I have spent enough time with that creep, staring into the abyss, you know, it's not healthy," Jane said lightly, even as he wished she would actually take his words seriously.
But it wasn't to be.
"Please. Just hear what he has to say. He's right downstairs in the holding cell."
It wasn't like her to be so insisting. Jane figured making him earn his keep must be her own way of seeking 'normal'. He could have refused but he didn't want to shake their barely restored equilibrium. More importantly his curiosity got the better of him.
So he went, motivated by the same reason he'd asked Lisbon to take the case in the first place.
A strange feeling that it mattered somehow; coupled with a dark foreboding.
That feeling turned into full blown terror when the cell was opened and Jane saw Todd burning alive.
Author's note:
Those who've read Empty Glamour probably recognize the pattern here. I'm going to be doing a lot of introspection using dialogue from the episodes and weaving it throughout the story. But the difference here is I'm actually inserting an extra plot as well (gasp!). It's why the format had been driving me crazy. Then Angela insisted on being included and this story, which was originally only 4 chapters long, turned into a soul-searching journey which is going to last at least 10 chapters. I've used this style in a story for another series (CSI NY) and it worked out pretty well; but the characters were nowhere nearly as complicated. I'll try to keep it as light and painless as possible and hope to finish it quickly as I've got quite a bit written. I'd really appreciate any input you can give me. I'm swimming in deep waters here. Let's just hope I don't drown.