A/N: I had to force myself to keep this short heh. Well, sort of. The migraine helped on that front. Next time, I probably won't be so lucky.
Thank you to: WildDaisies10, Frogster and Jisbon4ever for reviewing think of something else. It's much appreciated.
x tromana
Title: The Butterfly Effect
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Notes: Written for the mentalistprompt ficmeme. The prompt was 'Butterfly' and supplied by Chiisana Minako
The Butterfly Effect
What if there was no Red John?
0
Van Pelt never lost her cousin to the serial killer. Was never blighted by death at such a young age that it gave her the desire to fight back, to become a cop.
Instead, she was stuck in an inane office job, doing the filing for lawyers charging far too much by the hour than was entirely necessary. Was always left wondering whether or not she could have made more of herself and wishing for a better life. She wasn't happy and didn't know if she ever would be.
0
Rigsby never chanced upon that Red John crime scene in the middle of a burning building. The serial killer, having never existed, never felt the need to burn down the shabby apartment block to cover up the evidence after a botched murder.
He stayed as a firefighter and was relatively successful at it. Then, there was the tragic accident at work. Nobody could have survived what happened to him.
0
Not much changed for Cho.
He just spend less time on paperwork pertaining to the Red John case and more time on paperwork for others.
0
The same applied to Lisbon. Sort of, at least.
She still transferred over to the CBI and still became the senior agent of the SCU. Without Jane, her team never had the highest closed case rate though - they were close, but never quite made it. Therefore, she just didn't progress any further than that and always got passed over for promotions. Male colleagues always seemed to receive preferential treatment and that left her feeling a little bit bitter.
Waiting for that big break was never her strongest suit.
0
Jane never quit the psychic business. He had no need to - there was nobody to knock his conscience in the right direction. He was rolling in cash, the attention stroked his ego at every turn. His wife wasn't happy though because he simply didn't know when to quit.
She left him and broke his heart. Jane's daughter was left essentially fatherless at twelve and visited her Dad weekly, hoping desperately for a change in his condition.
There never was one.
000
"Hey, Lisbon?" Jane sits up and gazes over at her from her couch. "Have you ever wondered how different our lives would be if Red John didn't exist?"
"Jane," she whines, not even bothering to look at him. She doesn't much like being disturbed from her paperwork for philosophical questioning. "Do something useful. Or sleep."
He leans back down and stares at her ceiling. No Elvis here, he muses. Not that it makes too much difference - Lisbon, even in a foul mood, is far better company than a stain on the ceiling. But there is only so far you could and should push her after a stressful day. Jane automatically knows it would be better to leave her alone.
Well, for today anyway.
end