Chapter 5.

Lisbon felt rested and relaxed as Sunday afternoon rolled in. She had been sleeping and eating well and had even had time to see one of her brothers. The thought of Patrick Jane had popped into her head many times and she finally gave in and admitted to herself, although grudgingly, that she cared about the man, full stop. She knew that wasn't the whole story, but wasn't willing to delve into it any deeper.

It was difficult with Jane as he used his showman persona to shield the broken man inside and it wasn't always easy to know which man one was talking to. The glimpses she got from the true Patrick Jane made her trust him, made her ache to comfort this other human being in distress. And of course there was her Achilles heel, she always wanted to make things better, to help people, to improve their lives. She wouldn't mind easing Jane's suffering if he just let her, but so far he had only let her see snippets of him, but at least he was opening up. Slowly for sure, but it was happening and she was happy to adjust to his pace. She considered him her friend (although one that drove her up the walls at regular intervals!) and if nothing else, she was fiercely loyal to her friends and would do anything for them.

So she didn't call Jane, although she wanted to. She was going to see him tomorrow anyway and he probably wanted to have some privacy too. Maybe she would ask him to grab a coffee next weekend if they weren't busy. She should look up if there were any decent tea houses around...Lisbon looked at the duster in her hand and started sneezing as the dust was flying around as she attacked her much neglected flat while listening to Spice Girls.

XXX

He was furious. How dare they intervene, those clumsy brutes?

He had the house under constant surveillance, but hadn't had a change to review the footage until this morning. He hadn't expected anything unusual, but then these idiots had come along and they had the luck of imbeciles that no one had noticed them. It hadn't taken him long to track them down and that's why he was here. Looking at a nondescript house in a nondescript neighbourhood.

He had done the ground work earlier. When you knew how to use the system to your advantage, it was easy to get all the necessary information. He knew the layout of the house, knew the people inside. Now it was just the matter of observing and getting the tiniest details before teaching these thugs a lesson. He was looking forward to it.

XXX

Jane was transitioning in and out of consciousness without being aware it. He had lost the track of time, didn't know whether he had been here for days or for mere hours.

His world consisted of pain. Stabbing, slicing, burning, throbbing, deep pain that wouldn't go away. He couldn't hear any more for the rushing blood in his ears and the pain blanketing all the sensations. His mind had started to shut down along his body and his thoughts were single words, visual cues, sensations, but he tried to cling to a word Lisbon although it brought him anguish and worry it also brought comfort. He wasn't aware of his situation any longer, Patrick Jane only existed in a far corner of his mind that was rapidly being closed in by darkness.

XXX

Culpepper was standing at the door, wrinkling his nose to the smell in the room. The man hanging from the chains had his feet in a puddle of urine, faeces and blood, although they had hosed him down with water. It hadn't made the stench any better, damn it. They had cut away all of his clothing without paying attention to the damage that they were inflicting on the man at the same time. After they had used some cold water again, the man had been conscious enough to complain being cold, so they had helped to warm him up a bit. Burn marks on his torso were still weeping.

He was disappointed that Jane hadn't withstood the torture at all, the police force was lowering their standards in who they appointed these days. He had to hold his men back more than he liked to ensure that Jane survived until Monday when they would dump him at his apartment to be found by his team. He wasn't sure whether the man would hold until then. He was still bleeding continuously from all the cuts, the burns covered a reasonable area of his skin, his stomach was distended and his breathing had gone all funny. And he still must be cold as his lips were blue. Even Culpepper could tell that they had managed to do some serious damage. He grinned at the thought; definitely a job well done.

Culpepper glanced at his watch to see that evening was fast approaching. Time to move to the final stage to better utilise the darkness of the coming night to slip Jane back to his house. He would need one of the men to hold Jane down, although it looked like the man wasn't going to put up a fight.

Culpepper called to his men from the open door and turned back, walking to the table next to the damaged man and picked up a pair of old fashioned tailors scissors. They would be perfect.

Nobody had come down to the room yet, but as Jane was unlikely to offer any resistance, Culpepper decided to proceed alone, which was more fitting as this was to be his final lesson. He removed the gag, noticing that there was no need to hold Jane's jaws open as they had stiffened to a position already, being gagged for two days.

Culpepper took hold of Jane's tongue, pulling it out and felt disappointed as the man didn't stir.

"This will teach you to mind your tongue", he hissed while lifting the scissors to Jane's tongue.

TBC