A/N: This chapter is inspired by Kodaline's song High Hopes. I've inserted a lot of the song's lyrics here and there.
I feel terrible for not updating this sooner; a month and a day now since chapter 3. But a lot of things have happened this past month and I owe you some explanations: I had my exams, driver's licence, the wait for exam results, and the extraction of my wisdom teeth two days ago). But here's an even longer chapter than the last time to make it up to you guys...
I really want to thank you all for the great response I received for chapter 3, and can only hope that some people are still following this!
Replies to guest reviews:
Guest 1: I'm touched you kept on checking for an update, it reminds me of myself before I created an account. I'm so sorry for the wait though... Yes, doesn't this Josh ring a bell? I'm flattered I got you to read all the paragraphs - there will be a lot of those in this chapter too. I'm glad you're enjoying this story, your reviews are always a pleasure to read!
Guest 2: I'm happy you liked the letter!
AliahMPS: Thanks for your luck, and it was efficient since I passed with honors :) I'm happy to learn you're still enjoying this!
Reader: I know, it was the perfect occasion for a cliff hanger. If you're still following this, I'd be curious to know your speculations. What did you think she would answer? I'm happy you like this so far, and hope this chapter will reach up to your expectations!
Guest 3: Thank you!
Disclaimer: Don't own the Mentalist characters nor the lyrics of "High Hopes" by Kodaline that can be recognized in various paragraphs of this chapter.
"Alguien ha preguntado por mí?"
He hated how alone and vulnerable he sounded every time he asked the question.
Or how his heart sank every time the woman answered him, "No. No, nunca."
"Bien." He would put on a dazzling smile to try to seem unaffected by her usual reply, before wishing the two women at the post office a good day.
Who was he kidding? Even though they didn't have his IQ, they had long guessed his letters were destined to a woman in the US, and that he was hopping she'd come to join him here someday. Their separation and the reason he was here in South America still remained a mystery to the two women though, and would be something they'd idly wonder about.
He was a mess; a fool who contradicted himself. Hadn't he been the one to encourage Lisbon to move on, to not wait for him? He had basically written on that first letter that he was probably not coming back; of course she would go on with her life. She would do what was best for her, now that he wasn't her number one priority anymore. And as much as that thought pained him, he accepted that. He knew he had taken the right decision.
It didn't stop him from hoping to see her again. He'd spent almost a decade memorizing her every expression; he even knew how her face felt like when she smiled. But he hadn't actually envisioned using those memories safely kept in a room in his memory palace to have something to hold on to when she wouldn't be a part of his life anymore. Back in the CBI days, on the rare times he had allowed himself to imagine a future without Red John nor his death in the process of finding him, she'd always be there by his side. Then he would soon shut the thoughts out, as he hadn't been ready to fully acknowledge their meaning. He knew he loved her, he had for a while. Red John had even figured it out, which was why he had wanted to kill her. What had scarred him was the possibility to move on in a near future, because it so happened that she loved him too. He hadn't thought that he deserved to hope for it, as the initial plan had been to die alongside his revenge.
But once the dragon had been strangled, and his evil left starring at the barrel of the gun in his hand, he found that he couldn't pull the trigger.
I think you'd choose life.
Can't you see there are people who care about you? Who need you? You're being selfish and childish and I want you to stop it.
He couldn't do it, because she was right: he didn't want to choose death. But mostly he couldn't bare the idea of Lisbon discovering his lifeless body, his head exploded and his brains scattered on the park grass. He couldn't do that to her; he'd hurt her too many times in the past, but that, that would destroy her.
So he had slowly and with a shaking hand lowered the gun and placed it in McAllister's cold fingers, before calling her. He knew he had to run away to someplace far, preferably a country where the Feds couldn't touch him. Staying here meant imprisonment, and he wouldn't stand being clamed between three walls and prison grills for many probable years to come. And she didn't deserve to be tied to a detainee.
He told her he loved her, because it was the truth, because he had finally come to this, because she deserved to hear it, but mostly because he might never have the occasion to say it to her again.
And he used the three words again, one last time, on the first letter he wrote to her; to reassure her that he had truly meant it, but also as a way of letting her go. Now that she knew, she had the closure she needed to start a new chapter.
He headed at the bar on the beach, and repressed a shudder at the sight of Roger's lonely figure sitting at the same spot as always, a scary reminder of how he would probably end up here: miserable and alone, the grief eating him up inside. It was only a matter of years now before the solitude got the best of him, he mused.
He greeted Alfredo as he sat a couple of seats away from Roger, and asked for a whisky. Tea just wouldn't do right now. He needed something stronger.
He grabbed the glass. A year and nine months now, he thought bitterly. He then took a swing of the alcohol before putting the glass down. He stared at his left hand holding it and at his now bare ring finger, the sun having long erased any trace on his skin of the wedding band he had worn for so long. His ring now rested in a small jewelry box on his bedside stand. It had first represented his love for Angela, before binding him to his quest for revenge, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. But now it no longer felt appropriate to wear it, when revenge had been accomplished and thoughts of a different woman consumed his mind.
He was incapable of doing just what he told her to do in the letter: moving on, that was. Only she could help him with that. Of course he had more than once considered asking her to join him on the island. Especially on his worst days, when the accumulated feelings of loneliness and misery were too much to bare.
He could never bring himself to write the words on paper, though. Or if he did, and it was usually after he had taken too many drinks, he'd tear the paper the next morning. Not that he was afraid of being rejected - well, there was that. But he liked to think that if he asked, she would come. The main reason was that she deserved so much better than to be tied to a fugitive and broken man. And he had nothing to offer her here. Yet he would give anything to have her by his side.
He couldn't help having that small part of him hoping Lisbon had found a way to join him here; it was that small hope he carried inside that pushed him to ask the two women if someone was looking for him every time he posted a letter. He knew it was pointless, though. He knew Lisbon well enough to know that she wouldn't come if he didn't ask. And given that was out of the question...
It seemed like this island, his shelter from the FBI, would also be his doom: there weren't many things he could do to distract him from the sad and cruel place that was his mind. Which was why he needed the whisky.
He took another swing, a bitter thought for the lucky bastard that was probably in Teresa's company right now.
It was as if everything was playing in slow motion for only her eyes to see.
Josh letting go of her hands to stand up in front of her. Bending down on one knee. Pulling a small ring box out of his suit jacket, and opening it, revealing a golden band adorned with many sparkling diamonds.
"Will you marry me?"
At that point she was shaking, as all heads had turned towards them, eager eyes waiting for the three letter confirmation to come out of her mouth.
She was utterly and completely lost. First he drops the "L" bomb on her, then asks her to marry him. And she only had a couple of seconds to digest all of that. She started panicking. This was it, her chance to move on, to rebuild her life completely. She didn't love Josh, but could see herself working toward it. If she said yes, it would mean finally letting go of her past, of Jane, once and for all. She knew that was the logical decision to make.
But did she want to leave the best and worst part of her life behind, for good?
Josh must've read her doe-caught-in-the-headlights expression, as he smiled, took her left hand in his and whispered tenderly, "Don't freak out. But I love you and I want to be a part of your life, permanently."
She took a shaking breath, her eyes never leaving his reassuring ones, and opened her mouth to answer his "I love you". But nothing came out.
Her thoughts went to Jane...
...And she knew in that instant that she couldn't tell Josh yes. She couldn't do it, couldn't pretend to love him while waiting for it to be true someday. So she squeezed his hand in hers like he had previously done, and shook her head. With a shaking voice told him how sorry she was, how she wished she could say yes. A couple of tears escaped from her eyes, and she could only watch as Josh's smile evaporated.
"Why?" he asked, voicing his incomprehension as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong.
"I don't love you," she replied in a strangled voice. She read the full betrayal and hurt in his eyes, and she hated herself for being the reason to it. But she mostly hated herself for stringing him along for so long. It would've been unfair to settle for him, when she had been his first choice. "I'm so sorry," she said lamely, while letting go of his hand.
In the end she walked out of the building in a quick step, ignoring the stares of the other clients burning her back and the whispers erupting in all corners of the room.
As she stepped out into the night light, she found herself feeling lighter, freer; but her heart had never felt so heavy.
The crackling coming from the fireplace was a comforting sound she'd grown fond of. The warmth of the fire seeped through her skin, warming her up. It also helped to enlighten her spirit after a rough day - not that the cases she got here were even as remotely close to the brain wrecking ones she faced back at the CBI. No, rough days solely rested on the level of emotional wreck she was feeling.
Abbott's visit the other day had opened up wounds of painful memories from a time that was both dark and light. And she'd started worrying again. The man knew something, that had been blatantly clear with his smug smiles every time she lied to him about her "boyfriend". And she had no way to warn Jane. Again she felt like the situation was over her head, and that she, a small town sheriff, could do absolutely nothing about it but wait patiently for the outcome. She hated it, she hated this town and this new life. She felt trapped.
She had lied to Wayne and Grace earlier, for their sake, because she knew they worried about her. "I used to miss it but not anymore. Everything here's good. You know, it's just good," she had told Wayne, a little tipsy from the whine. What could she say? Certainly not that her heart clenched every time one of them called her "boss". Or that she was incapable of moving on like they had, like Jane wanted her to. Well, they had figured that part on their own after she'd run away from the restaurant with Josh in it three months ago. They had been disappointed: Josh had been a good man. Grace had asked what had happened on the phone, and Lisbon had been grateful the redhead couldn't see the tears threatening to spill as she told her about the proposal. Grace had understood, of course, and the next time they'd seen each other she had given her a long and warm hug, whispering "Everything will work out in the end, you'll see."
She wished she could believe her.
She was scared of never feeling it again with someone else; the cheerfulness and lightheartedness that had always come with Patrick Jane. Of course, not all had been bright, with his closet full of skeletons. But she had never felt happier than the times she had been with him.
She knew it was crazy to believe in silly things, to believe that she might never be happy again, but it wasn't that easy. With Josh it had been time to let it all go, to go out and start again - and look where it had brought her.
She sat down on her couch, the glass of wine held firmly in her right hand. Two years now; she needed the alcohol. Her left hand was busy pulling out the very first letter Jane had sent her from the box. It was by far the most wrinkled one of them all, showing just how many times she had held it in her hands. She probably knew it by heart now, which was a disturbing thought she wasn't willing to admit. But as pathetic and childish as it sounded, it was the only letter he had finished with an I love you.
Two years after Jane left, and here she was, alone on her couch, spending her evenings reading his letters again and drinking wine. So this was what she had reduced herself to. It was hard to remember that she had once held high hopes for the future, even in the darkest of times. But it had all come to an end after he had hung up on that last phone call. The hardest part in all of this mess though, was that the world still kept spinning around.
He slept better on the island. He didn't sleep through the whole night, but managed more than the couple of hours he had once allowed himself as an insomniac. And he had found he was capable of dreaming again.
His dreams were the perfect way to remember certain memories he had forgotten he kept buried in his memory palace. In his dreams he could make the ghosts of all the people who have come and gone. Happier memories of Angela and Charlotte resurfaced, a clean break from all the nightmares he had had when Red John was still haunting him.
Teresa Lisbon was a recurring character in his dreams too, with memories that seemed to show up so quick, but leave far too soon. They took him back to when it had all first started; from the happier moments shared together to he times he had hurt her. He only had himself to blame, but he accepted that now. The letters were a good way to redeem himself, an opportunity to apologize for all the times he simply hadn't taken the time to.
That night he dreamt about the day he left her on the beach. The words he told her back then had been genuine. "You have no idea how much you've meant to me. How much you mean to me." But it had still been a trick in the end to get a hold of her cell phone and leave her there.
He made sure to apologize on his letter due to send that day.
When Franklin had warned him that very same day that the FBI was looking for him, his first reaction had been surprise. He knew they would find him someday, but hadn't expected it to be so soon, with only a two year gap since his fugue. There was no point in running away now though, especially when he had no reason to. The country's laws protected him. They couldn't arrest him.
This ought to be interesting, he thought as he walked to Abbott's table.
"Abbott. How the heck are you?" he greeted him.
Abbott stopped typing on the document he was working on, and chuckled at the sight of the infamous Patrick Jane as he sat up straighter in his chair. "And here we thought we were going to have to turn over every rock on this island to find you."
Jane sat down in front of him. "Heard you were here. It was only polite to stop by and say hi."
"Hm."
Jane couldn't help the smirk on his face as he added, "Oh, how was the flight?"
"Bumpy," the other man replied simply. Truth be told his back had paid hell during the trip, as he had been hunched against the window. Jane's eyes held a mocking gleam in them that only meant he knew about his suffering. Abbott let it slide and leaned forward. "Pretty confident of you to front out like this."
"The extradition laws are on my side, I know you can't touch me," Jane replied coolly.
"Who said I wanted to touch you? I'm here to make you an offer."
"Oh." Jane's expression turned to guarded and impassible, but he nodded for him to continue.
"It seems like the higher ups think that you could be valuable to the FBI. The Bureau is willing to drop all the charges against you if you come and work for us," Abbott informed him, keeping his tone of voice neutral, even though the disapproval he tried to contain was omnipresent.
"The FBI," Jane repeated.
"That's right."
After a couple of seconds of heavy silence with both men observing each other, Jane cleared his throat. "Interesting proposition. I'm not buying it."
"No?" He asked, skeptical. "This is a good deal Jane, you really should consider it."
Jane narrowed his eyes. Did this man really think it would take so little to have him on board with the FBI? Did they think he'd be that willing to cooperate after what they've done? "I am done with that life. I did what I had to do, and I've moved on." But even the lie felt sour on his tongue.
"Is that so?" Abbott said raising his eyebrows, catching the hook. He had a knowing gleam in his eyes. "That life was a job that you were very good at. If you come back you can help a lot of people. You have a gift."
"It's not a gift," Jane spat.
"Whatever it is, it'll take you off this island and you can start your life again."
"I have, thank you," he replied coldly, masking easily the lie.
"If you say so. But I know someone who might be disappointed to hear that," Abbott finished, the gleam in his eyes back again as he smirked.
He knew something. And Jane hated not being the one in control of the conversation right now, when it should be the other way around.
"How'd you find me?" Jane asked suddenly, even though he had pretty much guessed the answer to that question.
Abbott smiled. "Your letters to your girlfriend Lisbon. It was pretty clever to send them to your carnie friends and have them sneak them over to her. Just not quite smart enough."
"She isn't my girlfriend," he corrected him, his eyes never leaving his.
"Ah. So you love her in a purely platonic way then?"
"Where are you going with this?" Jane sighed, tired of all this beating around the bush. He wasn't planning on revealing anything running on those personal grounds. But it was obvious Abbott knew more than he had given him credit for.
"I'm merely stating the fact that your little interaction during that last phone call only made things clearer as to where you both standed regarding your feelings for one another. There's no point in lying to me, Jane," he replied slowly, a crooked smile on his face at Jane's stony features.
He explained. "All of the members of the Serious Crimes unit were closely watched by our men the last couple of months preceding Red John's murder. Of course, Lisbon's phone was monitored. All her conversations were recorded. It wasn't hard to retrace the one you both had during Agent Mallows' absence. Of course, we were hoping that you'd reveal a clue regarding the location you were planning on heading to for hideout. But in the end you revealed something else entirely."
Jane glared at Abbott, his jaw clenched, but didn't interrupt. After a pause, Abbott finished, "That's why our deal also includes offering Lisbon a job at the FBI. She'd be a valuable asset, and we also figured you'd be more inclined to accept if you had her with you, as a part of the team we assembled for you."
Abbott then closed his tablet and slid it in his bag, before standing up. "I'll be here for another day if you change your mind," he said, as Jane's eyes met his one last time before focusing on a distant point, lost in thought. Abbott left him at the table, and after turning around without so much as backward glance, he couldn't help the triumphant smile forming on his lips.
He'd revealed the conman's con.
He had won. It was only a matter of time before Patrick Jane reached out for him again to accept his offer.
After all, there was nothing more powerful than playing with the high hopes of a man.
A/N: Next chapter will be the reunion. If some of you have any ideas as to how I can prolong this story, then please be my guest and share them on a review or a PM! But I'm pretty certain chapter 5 will be the last one.
Again, this chapter is inspired by High Hopes from Kodaline; I'd recommend to those who don't know it to go check it out - great song and lyrics.
Reviews are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading.