Okay, right now I have no (personal) computer and I had to write half of this on Google Documents. It was annoying and hard, but I got it done. Right now I haven't the foggiest idea when I can easily get chapter nine out, but hopefully soon. And believe me...it really bothers me to not have a computer on me that I can easily use. Once again this is dedicated to my friend with cancer, my heart continues to go out to her.
Also, thank everyone who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! You guys are seriously absolutely amazing(:
BrightLights: Thank you so much! And don't worry, they're going to start furthering their plans...:)
Disclaimer: Nope.
Chapter Eight: Time Waits For No One
Jane cautiously pushes the door open and steps inside. The complete utter silence of the house has his senses on high alert and he can almost hear the erratic beating of his heart in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he heads towards the staircase and reaches his hand up to grasp onto the railing. Firming up his grip, he ascends up the wooden stairs – cringing when he steps on a squeaker – and finally reaches the top. Throughout the entire duration, his heart has to have escalated to the tipping point. Recently he had received a note telling him of what Red John had in store for the future, and it involved killing her. She was the one woman he wants to put his life back on track. She is the one woman who keeps him sane and most of all, whom he can trust.
He stops outside his bedroom door, his hand barely hovering over the brass knob. Behind the hard wood he hears laughter. It's haunting, menacing, and horrifying all at the same time and he quickly reaches down to grasp the knob, but he pauses at the soft sound of a soft whimper. It belongs to a woman.
"Why are you doing this?" he hears and his heart all but stops. Red John is holding none other than Teresa Lisbon behind the door, no doubt savouring in his plans to torture and kill her, but just waiting for the right audience: Him.
There are no words after hers, and Jane finds this as his cue to turn the knob to the right and push into his barren master suite. Inside the bedroom he finds blood everywhere. The once-white walls have been painted red and the carpet is stained. Thicker droplets of the crimson liquid slowly descend down the walls and onto his mattress on the far side. A woman with mousy brown hair lies flat on her back, eyes and mouth open wide in silent screams as she pleads to her captor in death. Her has been slashed open and her chest punctured, and her once pristine toenails are stained. Lying over her midsection is a small child with curly blonde hair. Dry tear stains run down her cheeks as she lifelessly clings to her dead mother. Even in death, the love between a mother and child is still ever-present.
At this sight, Jane stumbles and falls back slightly. He catches himself on the brass doorknob, but pauses when he suddenly feels warm blood seep through his fingers on contact. He looks down, his hands are no covered in a thick coat of blood and he has to fight the urge to vomit. Breathing hard in hopes of trying to re-claim the control of his stomach, he looks up and sees a petite woman lying in a fetal position in the middle of the floor. A few moments ago, much like the blood on the doorknob, she was not there. Blinking curiously now, he takes a step towards the body of a woman hugging onto her midsection. Kneeling down, he takes in the pale lifeless eyes of Teresa Lisbon.
"Hey Patrick! Wake up!" Jane feels someone rocking his shoulder back and forth almost violently. With slight effort, he tries to shake them off, but the shakes only grow more vigorous, "Wake up! You're having a nightmare!"
Jane jolts awake when he suddenly feels the palm of a hand make contact with the flesh of his cheek. His eyes are open wide and his chest is heaving and he knows that he is indeed disorientated. He blinks and looks around the room and concludes with a sigh of both great sadness and relief that he is in a prison cell.
"That must've been some dream. You were shaking the entire bunk!" Norm's face softens a little, "Are you okay?"
Jane blinks, feeling wetness seep around his eyelids, "Yeah, I'm fine." He shuts his eyes and reaches up with his thumb and pointer finger to brush the runny tears from his eyes. Opening his eyes, he looks up at Norm, "Not to worry, I've had a lot worse than that."
Norm steps back and shrugs his shoulders, "All right then." He turns and starts to climb back up his bunk and Jane just leans back against his pillows. There was absolutely no way he was going to get anymore sleep tonight. Whenever he would relive the deaths of Angela and Charlotte – and occasionally seeing Lisbon die – he could never go back to sleep after wards. Or at least he couldn't sleep without human contact, and it would be rather odd to ask that of Norm.
Sighing to himself, he shuts his eyes and drifts off to his memory palace. He revels in meeting running off with Angela and trying to make do with little supplies they had and then later their marriage. It was small and beautiful, but was interrupted by Danny. Jane chuckles to himself at the memory of his wife getting that call and having to leave immediately to get her baby brother out of jail, Danny's first words to her were priceless. Next he remembers Angela coming up to him and placing a white stick in his hands. Overwhelming joy and pride had come over him as his heart swelled. His love for both Angela and Charlotte grew when he experienced his baby girl's first kick in the womb. Angela had been asleep with a baby name's book draped over her chest. It was he that experienced the first ever kick, but he never told Angela this. Then he revels in Charlotte's birth. To him, it was borderline miraculous that a small baby like that could grow inside of his beloved wife for nine months. The corners of Jane's lips upturn into a smile at the fond memory, and then his mind drifts to Lisbon.
Two weeks. It had taken Cho and Rigsby two weeks to find Red John's letter buried in the yard of Jane's Malibu house. Lisbon completely understood it taking the boys two, maybe three days to find the letter, but no, it had taken them two weeks. Lisbon found it extremely superfluous and would often demand reasons as to why they had not found it yet, and then afterwards she would feel awful for being very demanding in the first place and would bring them something to eat. This was something that Rigsby appreciated whole-heartedly.
Now she sat on the soft cream coloured couch in her office with the translucent bag holding the letter. She has not even begun to read it yet for fear as to what she may find with it. On the way back from Malibu, Cho had read it aloud in the car to Rigsby, and both men have not looked at her straight in the eye since they returned. Taking a deep breath, she sums up her courage and begins to read:
"Dear mister Jane,
It's been a long time hasn't it? I just wanted to tell you what I planned to do with your lovely friend Agent Lisbon. Over these past few months I have noticed how close the two of you have become, and I want you to know that I desire her blood. I want to feel her blood between my fingers as I stick my blade into her abdomen until the hilt reaches her soft flesh. I want the crimson blood to stain my hands red and watch her eyes grow wide with panic, fear, and pain. I want to run the knife over those soft feminine curves and leave a trail behind and to break her. Her screams would be my lullaby as I sleep and her face will forever be in my mind. She will die before and by my hand, and most of all you cannot do anything to stop it."
Her breath catches in her throat and her hands begin to quiver. Over the last decade plus, she has received many death threats, but nothing like this. Red John's letter gives her a haunting feeling, and it feels like he has observed her for several years. Unlike many of the perps she has dealt with, Red John was the only one who wanted to associate a knife with her "soft feminine curves."
Setting the encased letter down on the pillow beside her, she shuts her eyes and nervously places her quivering hands on her swollen belly. She takes a breath in and then back out to try and calm down. Beneath her palm, she feels her son poke at her, almost to let her know that they are both okay.
"Boss," her eyes snap open at the sound of Grace's voice, "Uh, Stark is here and she would like to look over the letter. Can I have it," the rookie agent catches her eyes, "Please?"
Lisbon nods and reaches over to take the letter in her hands, "I'll take it to her, Grace, thank you," the rookie agent is reluctant to let her do so, but nods her head in agreement. Lisbon smiles and turns back to the letter, her fingers brushing over the simple yet-meaningful words and she realizes that she was a fool for letting Jane go to jail.
She slowly stands to her feat and sighs. Stretching, she reaches up to her eyes and wipes away the slight dampness that would give away her soft tears escaping from where they belong. Lisbon gives her belly one last rub and sets out into the bullpen with the letter held tightly in her hand.
She stops in the doorway before entering the bullpen completely and rakes her eyes over the scene before her. Grace is leaning against Rigsby's desk, no doubt telling him that she - Lisbon - is coming in soon with the letter. The rookie had almost definitely seen her cry in her office, even though it was only slight. Not even she noticed the tears escaping their boundaries. Rigsby's face confirms what she is expecting the conversation is over when he nods and softly says a reply. Grace had not yet read the note, but she did know that it is frightening.
Lisbon looks down at the letter in her hand and back up again. She clears her throat to get the Grace and Rigsby's attention. They both turn to look at her, giving her a 'deer in headlights look' or 'the kid who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar' type of look. Lisbon draws her lips into a thin line before allowing them to smile pleasantly. Moving her hand more into the middle, but careful not to let the letter touch her belly, she steps more firmly into the bullpen.
"Where's Cho?" she asks, noticing that Cho is missing. It also seems like a very nice conversation starter.
Rigsby clears his throat, "He's getting Stark downstairs. He said that he'll be back up soon," Grace nods at his statement in confirmation. "Are you okay?"
Lisbon blinks and fights the urge to say some snide remark. Over these past few months that's all she has gotten. Questions. Numerous pointless questions all asking about her sanity. At first it made her feel comforted, like she wasn't alone in all of this, but now it is getting old fast. Yes, seeing the letter does faze her, but she is willing to go through the discomfort of it if it means that Jane could possibly get out of jail in the near future. It also helps confirm everything that she has been wondering in the past few months. It lets her know that Jane wasn't just talking in the interrogation rooms, and that he was and still is not playing her.
She straightens up, "I'm fine, Rigsby," he nods and looks over her shoulder. No doubt Cho is coming up behind her with Stark in tow.
Clutching the letter tighter in her hand, she steps further into the bullpen and out of the door frame. She turns just in time to see Cho maneuver through the space she was just occupying and motioning for Stark to enter. The young lawyer nods at him and makes slight eye contact with Lisbon. Stark stiffens and tries to offer a small smile.
"Agent Lisbon, how are you?" her eyes glance down at Lisbon's swollen belly, "And the baby?"
Lisbon nods, "We're good," she pats the side of her stomach with her free hand. Taking in a deep breath, she takes one last glance at the letter in her hands before holding it up to Stark, "We found this outside of Jane's home as of late."
Stark looks at it and takes hold of it from Lisbon's hands. Her eyes scan over it quickly and she cautiously turns it over. "It took two weeks to find this?" she says quietly.
Lisbon looks over at Cho and Rigsby. Both men are trying to find a place to fixate their eyes on, neither are comfortable with letting the lawyer know how long it took them to find a measly piece of paper. Lisbon looks away, the corners of her lips upturning in a smile. She likes Stark. The woman definitely can keep the men on her team on their toes and give an entertaining show to both her and Van Pelt. She also can't help but wonder where in the world Hightower found her, and why she would entrust Jane's case to a lawyer who has barely been out of school.
"No, it just took twelve days," Lisbon is brought out of her slight reverie at the sound of Rigsby's defensive voice. He's trying to cover his ass and probably a little bit of his dignity. The man is no doubt an amazing agent, but he can act like a doofus from time to time. She has to suppress a laugh at his words by biting the inside of her cheek.
Stark looks to the side at Cho, "But that's still a long time..." and she stops talking at the look Cho gives her and glances down and begins to fiddle with her visitor's badge with one hand.
Lisbon smiles and turns around to leave the bullpen.
"Not only do we need to reopen this case, but we have to completely redo his trial. With this new evidence it can prove that what Jane was saying is true. That he really did kill Red John in order to save Agent Lisbon's life!" Lisbon stops and turns to look at the lawyer. "The only problem is that numerous witnesses have said that Jane goes berserk whenever Red John is involved, and even you, Agent Lisbon, said that Jane spoke to you of his plans to kill the man," Stark nervously fiddles with the paper, "At best it could get him out, because there are also people saying that you two have gotten closer since you took him on as your consultant."
Lisbon stops and leans into the door frame. New hope floods into her being, but at the same time it softly falters. There is hope that Jane could be released from prison in the near future, but there is still the ever-looming possibility that he could remain. Due to his constant vocalizing of his plans to kill Red John, his words could keep him in jail. Even with the letter in the chain of custody, they could still have hell getting him out of jail.
"What are we going to do, boss?" she hears Cho ask her, and she knows exactly how he is standing behind her right now. His feet plant on the ground firmly a shoulder-width apart and his arms are crossing over his chest. She can feel his stare in the back of her head.
As she hears the sound of a desk chair moving behind her and feel hitting the wooden floor beneath their feet, she knows everyone is standing expectantly behind her. She looks forward, her eyes not training on anything in particular, and she says something so inaudible at first. Tears begin to form in her eyes and she knows that she is probably risking her career because the time discrepancy is her fault. It could be shed to light during this trial, but then again it may not be questioned. She feels so many things right now: hope, fright, fatigue, and worry.
Slowly she turns to her team plus Stark and makes eye contact. She knows tears have long since formed and began to run down her cheeks, but she does not care right now. Because time waits for no one, she can no longer wait.
"Reopen the case."
Does anyone have a Twitter? I do. And I am starting to get addicted to tweeting in a sense. Link is in my profile, but if you don't feel like checking that out, here it is: Just_Mosie. Exact same as my pen name(: