Mend This Tear- chapter seven
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.
She doesn't look good.
Thank you, Angela, for stating the obvious, Jane replied in annoyance.
He should've known better than to think he'd get some peace after Cho left.
I'm just here to help you sort out your thoughts. You should be grateful.
What's to sort out?
You're wondering if this is your fault.
No.
Patrick, I know you better than that.
Jane could practically see his wife's long dark blonde hair tumble around her shoulders as she shook her head in gentle reproof; could almost feel her hand running through the curls at the nape of his neck.
You're being surprisingly nice about this, he told her.
I figured you're beating yourself up enough as it is.
This isn't my fault, he said desperately.
I know baby, I know. But think about this: if Lisbon being merely sick has you so upset, how would you feel if you had to hurt her to get to Red John?
Jane didn't even try lying to himself. The mere thought made his breathing go shallow, his heart pounding, and his mind racing.
Because despite all the confusion in his mind, Patrick was sure of one thing: Red john couldn't be captured; he'd have to be killed. Todd's death proved that. And although Lisbon didn't know Todd's involvement, she knew that Red John had cracked the CBI walls before when Rebecca was killed. If she insisted on getting in his way he'd do whatever it took to accomplish his goal.
I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen.
But it's starting to look like a real possibility isn't it? This is the second time she told you straight out she wouldn't let you get Red John. You'll have to go through her.
I'll find a way, he thought meekly.
It surprised you the first time she said it, but you weren't very concerned. You thought she'd come around, that if you spent enough time with her, she'd start seeing things your way. Understand what must be done. But that hasn't happened, has it?
I'll find a way, Jane repeated, this time more forcefully.
Well, antagonizing her isn't going to help matters.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Sure you don't. It's not like you're the vindictive vengeful type.
Jane couldn't deny that. Not with what he had put Ellis Mars through….
It was bad enough that the man claimed to be psychic, but then had to go and try cold reading Jane, claiming that he 'saw' Patrick had fallen on misfortune.
Jane knew Mars couldn't have known how accurately he'd hit his mark. He knew full well that Mars has just been guessing; it was an underhanded trick psychics used to freak out potential clients. Patrick hadn't bothered concealing the rage he felt. Thankfully, Mars was smart enough to realize that he should back off. The man apologized and left, but not before leaving his business card.
And Jane had vowed that he'd pay him back if he ever dared show his face again.
And he had. As Jane suspected, Mars couldn't resist the chance of saying 'I told you so' when the Sherriff had been killed.
So Jane had felt no guilt whatsoever in using the astrologer in his calculated plan to lure in Todd.
Yes, putting Mars in his place, and terrifying him in the process had been gratifying, and Jane felt no remorse whatsoever.
You are perfectly right my dear. But he got what was coming to him.
And Teresa? Did she get what was coming to her?
In a way, yes, Jane stated.
I know you enjoyed taunting her at the time, but you weren't so pleased with yourself afterwards were you?
Not at all. After all, she'd asked for it. It was her fault.
Really?
Yes, really.
So why'd you apologize to her if she deserved it.
I didn't apologize.
You made her tea, Patrick. That counts as an apology…
Waiting for Todd to come downstairs after their talk, Jane had made tea for himself, then, when he saw how upset Lisbon looked, made a second cup and took both to her office, opening the door with his elbow.
"Ahh, the leader of the revenge squad is here," Lisbon had greeted him with a wide smile, sitting down at her desk.
"That's funny," he said, approvingly. He was determined to keep the conversation light.
"You should start a cult. Who cares that you work for the leading law enforcement agency in the state. This way you get the best of both worlds. You catch criminals, and create new ones," she'd said coolly, gesturing with her hands first to the right, then to the left,
Jane could tell she wanted to throw her coffee mug at him. Instead, she reached for it to take a sip.
"Here," he said, placing one of the tea cups in front of her, "Drink this instead. It will soothe you."
"Why would I need to be soothed?" she stated, drinking her coffee, pointedly ignoring the tea, "It's not like my consultant just flat out lied to my boss." She didn't need to continue for Jane to hear the rest of her thought: while rubbing his revenge in my face.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again: sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Jane stated.
"Guess it's a good thing I'm not trying to be witty," Lisbon retorted.
Despite her coolness, Jane knew Lisbon was in fact reigning herself in from losing her temper. Normally, his instinct would have been to push her. But after their last managerial argument, he knew she'd be extra careful and wouldn't allow herself to be riled up easily. Plus, he found that he really didn't want to. He'd come here to fix things, not mess them up further.
"Look, Lisbon-"
"I understand you enjoy messing with me Jane," she interrupted, "but condoning murder is a new one," she said, her voice full of disdain, "can't you practice your religion without feeling the need to convert everyone else?"
"Hey, I went to convince Todd against revenge," Jane stated, hands raised in a placating gesture.
"Sheepdip," she snapped, "you went to give him pointers. This goes beyond your personal vendetta. I can't keep quiet if start making criminals out of victim's families."
Jane's brows furrowed.
"I thought it was my job to catch criminals. Well, that's what I'm doing here. Todd's involved, I'm sure of it."
"You said that before, I didn't believe you," Lisbon reminded him. Again, he heard the rest of her thought as loudly as if she had spoken it herself: and with good reason!
Jane felt his expression soften.
"Lisbon, I'm not lying to you," he'd stated, his timbre mellow, "He's a viable suspect. I need him free because I'm going to be laying a trap for him later," Jane explained once more, patiently.
Lisbon looked resolutely into her coffee. Jane knew it to be a sign that her resolve was wavering, her anger was fading. She didn't want to look at him until she made her decision. Finally, she rolled her eyes to meet his.
"And if it turns out he's not the killer?"
"Then we'll catch the real criminal and put him in jail where Todd can't reach him," Jane promised.
Lisbon now studied his face. He could tell she was gauging him. She looked like she believed him, but that she didn't think it was wise of her to do so.
"You can trust me on this," Jane told her, voice soft, enticing in its honesty, hoping she'd notice he qualified the phrase for her.
When Lisbon put down the coffee and reached for the tea, Jane knew she had; that she'd trust him…at least on this.
Watching her bring the teacup to her lips, Jane thought that there'd be plenty of time to show that he was trustworthy on other matters as well.
Before Lisbon could take a sip, a knock echoed into her office. They looked in unison and saw Todd at the door.
"Mr. Jane? I'm ready to see Agent Hightower now."
Patrick glanced at Lisbon.
"Coming?"
Wordlessly, she accompanied them, leaving the tea untouched.
By the time they returned to her office, the tea had gone cold, and to Jane's dismay, she threw it out.
If it hadn't been a peace offering, you wouldn't have cared that she hadn't drunk it.
Think of it as a consolation prize.
For what?
For when I beat her to Red John. For when I kill him.
Not gonna work. She's not that easy.
Looking at Lisbon now, pale and ill, Jane felt a surge of irrational anger with her and himself. He was sorry he had made the effort to appease her. With what he knew now of Todd and Red John, it would have been better in the long run if she had remained angry with him.
The fool.
Patrick! That's not nice.
You know what? You're absolutely right, Angela. It's useless trying to make Lisbon feel better. From now on, I'm going to be a complete jerk, pissing her off more than usual, distancing myself more than ever. Maybe then she'll realize how serious I am about revenge. She'll stop holding out hope for me.
Wait, that wasn't what I meant!
I know. But it's the right thing to do. I owe it to her, Jane stated firmly.
She's not going to let you.
She doesn't have a choice, he thought darkly, satisfied in his plan.
Before Angela could protest anymore, Jane got up from his seat. He thought he saw Lisbon's eyelids flicker and he was caught in an odd state of wanting her to wake up, and wanting her to go back to sleep so that he'd have more time to compose himself. He suddenly realized that one of the fluorescent lights overhead has was flickering non-stop. Maybe if he could get them to turn it off, she'd rest more easily.
While he was at it, he'd see what the hell was taking her doctor so long to show up.
Author's note: I'm falling asleep her, but I wanted to give you guys something to take your minds off this weeks episode (right, like that'll happen). I thought I'd let you know that this fic is supposed to fit into the season's timeline between Red Moon and Jolly Red Elf. Jolly Red Elf takes place 2 days after Todd is killed. That being said, Lisbon's illness can't be something serious, so you can rest easy. Please let me know what you think. I'm starting school tomorrow ;_: so I can use some cheering up.