FIC: Nothing Stops Another Day (1/1)
Jul. 15th, 2011 11:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tromanaTitle: Nothing Stops Another Day
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tromana
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: He killed a man. She didn't know yet.
Spoilers: All of season 3.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.
Notes: Episode tag to 3x24 Strawberries and Cream (Part Two). Written for the Paint It Red Ficathon.
Prompts: "sometimes, we know when something is wrong, sometimes we choose to ignore it," from TotalCitron.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mentalistprompt : ER
Nothing Stops Another Day
He killed a man.
She didn't know yet.
x
The case went to the CBI, naturally. He was unceremoniously dumped in an interrogation suite by Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby, to await questioning.
It took all of Madeline Hightower's and Grace Van Pelt's powers of persuasion to get her into the ambulance. She had always been blind to her own well-being.
x
Cho and Rigsby interrogated him, with Bertram and LaRoche watching from the other side of the one way mirror. He freely admitted everything; there was nothing to lie about. Besides, the evidence was damning, they had all they needed without a confession. What else was he meant to do?
Doctors of various guises hovered around her. As a cannula was inserted into her right hand and an intravenous drip her left, she wondered vaguely how long it would be until the pain would abate. They hadn't given her the anesthetic and yet, she was already feeling woozy.
x
He prowled around the holding cell, suddenly realizing just how small they were. It was of no matter, however. Soon, he would be transferred to a prison cell and that would be just as limiting.
She was unaware of what was happening to her. Instead, Van Pelt stood outside of the hospital, fretting and desperately calling her brothers. They would want to know that their sister was in surgery.
x
He fell asleep, welcoming it for the first time in years.
She woke and her mouth was dry.
x
He woke up every fifteen minutes or so. Just because he had finally killed Red John, it didn't mean his insomnia would disappear in a flash.
She didn't sleep at all; how could she with visiting medics every hour? Instead, she watched Van Pelt, who was clearly not telling her something.
x
LaRoche didn't say a word as he escorted him to jail. He didn't care though; he never had much to do with the man. However, he'd imagined this scene time and time again in the past. For some reason, it had always been her accompanying him on this long trek. And they'd have talked and she'd have forgiven him and… Well, of course that was just a fantasy. It would take more than a chat for her to get over this one.
Van Pelt remained stonily silent, much to her irritation. Instead, it was Cho that broke the news to her. She didn't say a word until he was finished. Even then, she didn't say much. What was there to say or do? It wasn't as if she could go back in the past and stop him, like she had always vowed to do so. And really, she didn't know what to think. This was something that needed mulling over.
x
He was offered solitary confinement. He didn't take it.
She was offered more painkillers. She accepted them gratefully.
x
Less than twenty four hours passed before he received his first injury. The staff resisted the urge to say 'I told you so' as his bloody nose was seen to.
A physiotherapist dropped by to see her shortly before she was discharged. She expected her therapy regime as much as she anticipated LaRoche's call about counseling.
x
He wondered what she was thinking. Whether she even knew just yet. She'd been shot, had surgery no doubt. Might not even have been released from hospital yet. The only guarantee was that she wouldn't be back at work, though that wouldn't be through want of trying. A traitorous smile crept to his lips for the first time in days. Briefly, he wondered if she would ever come visit him. She did last time, after all.
She hoped he was holding up okay in jail. That his loose tongue hadn't gotten him into trouble yet. For some reason, she couldn't see that happening. The picture just didn't fit right. He probably thought she was fuming in bed, furious that she hadn't been able to stop him. Truth be told, deep down, she'd expected it. Now that she had time to think about it. Besides, she had more important things to worry about.
x
After a week, he was unwillingly put into solitary confinement 'for his own well-being'.
At the same time, she accepted the offer to go back to work early, if only to be on desk-duty.
x
When he heard he had a visitor, he smiled again. It was, after all, the day before his hearing. He needed something to cheer him up. When he saw it was her, his heart lifted again. The rest of the team had been avoiding him; he had expected her to be the last to break the stony silence.
While she waited at the plastic table, she felt terribly uncomfortable and unwelcome. She was a cop and responsible for putting a fair few convicts behind these very bars. Therefore, she felt vulnerable without her gun. She wanted to see him, but the sooner she was out of here, the better.
x
He tried to apologize immediately, but she cut him off. However, she didn't accuse him of lying and manipulation. Clearly, she had finally accepted that this was always how it was going to end. Instead, she simply asked him how he was going to plead. All he could do was tell her the truth: guilty. After all, he was guilty and he knew it. Everyone did. When it was obvious that she didn't hold it against him, he let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow, this was all going far easier than he had ever anticipated.
She didn't need to hear that he was sorry because, deep down, she could tell he was. Not for shooting Red John in cold blood, oh no. He would never be sorry for that. But for disappointing her, not living up to her expectations? She could see he would hold a lifetime of guilt for that. Not that he needed to harbor any more regrets about his life. Besides, he wasn't entirely to blame. She should have known that he would tell her half-truths when they got close enough to Red John.
x
Before she left, he defied the rules and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. The lack of human, her, touch had been killing him.
She clasped his hands with her own. If she hadn't felt so exhausted in the past nine days, she would have visited him a lot sooner.
x
The hearing went as he expected it. As she had promised the day before, she had attended, despite the fact she didn't have to. The only disappointment was being denied bail; the excuse that he was a 'flight risk' was simply pitiful.
For once, she was glad for desk duty. The others had been called out to a crime scene in the middle of nowhere. Besides, she had to remain true to her word. She wasn't surprised that he was denied bail; she saw it coming from a mile off.
x
He prowled around solitary confinement like a caged tiger.
She did much the same in her office.
x
The days when she visited always brightened his spirits. It was good to see her finally regaining form in that left arm, the one where she'd been shot. When she told him she was back on full duty, he was pleased for her. She didn't need to tell him just how much it irritated her, not being able to work at full capacity.
As she became healthier, it grew increasingly difficult to see him. The combination of physiotherapy, counseling and of course, work, had drained her free time considerably. She hated seeing him in such a state, but knew he needed her. That was why she endured the visits and made herself feel so uncomfortable.
x
Instead of his lawyer, it was her who told him when his case was due to go to court.
She only knew because J.J. LaRoche had been told by the A.G. and she overheard.
x
As the days disappeared before them, they began to avoid taboo subjects. It frustrated him, when she withdrew like this. But he could understand; compartmentalization was her way of dealing with stress.
Eventually, she attempted to solely tell him good news. This place was depressing enough as it was, without her adding to it. She knew full well that he could read her like an open book, but it didn't stop her trying.
x
During the trial, he made a concerted effort not to willfully manipulate the judge and jury. If he did so and was caught, it would have only made his predicament worse. Besides, seeing her there, on as many days as she could feasibly attend, changed things. There was something about those honest, green eyes that made him wish he could turn back time, be a better person. Be the kind of person she wished he could be, the kind she needed.
There were times when she wished she hadn't let herself get so involved in his trial. Of course, there were certain dates when she had to attend. To give evidence and the like. But the rest? Well, that was just her morbid curiosity kicking in. Besides, she felt a moral obligation to support him throughout. She hated the way that they twisted certain things, to try and make out that he was a depraved soul. Really, he had just made an awful decision.
x
The night before the verdict, she visited him. He couldn't have been more grateful to see her. There was nothing like a friendly face coming to support you in your hour of need. 'I love you,' he wished he could say. 'Don't leave me, I need you,' too. The words never came. None ever did.
There was nothing she could say or do in this situation. She didn't even know why she felt compelled to see him. Maybe it was because this was her last chance to see him without his guilt having been proven in a court of law? Or maybe, it was because she needed him as much as he did her.
x
Yes, he did love her, he decided. But how long had they been ignoring the bigger picture for? For the past few months, they had been doing what? Living a lie? Pretending he was innocent when really, he was as guilty as they came? He knew her moral high ground wouldn't stretch to her dating a convict. And he couldn't expect her to lay down everything she had worked so hard for simply for the shell of a man. Somehow, tomorrow felt like a death sentence already.
Sometimes, she wished she could just switch off her feelings for him. But what difference would it make? It would just lead to her feeling lonely and miserable. Besides, how could she judge him for doing what she had done in the line of duty? Yes, he had killed a man, but it was Red John. But she couldn't sacrifice everything she had worked for, not even for him. No law enforcement agency would want an officer who was in love with a jailbird. Of that she was certain.
x
Moments before the verdict came, his heart leapt to his throat.
She simply put her hands together and prayed.
end
Author:
tromana Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jane/Lisbon
Summary: He killed a man. She didn't know yet.
Spoilers: All of season 3.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.
Notes: Episode tag to 3x24 Strawberries and Cream (Part Two). Written for the Paint It Red Ficathon.
Prompts: "sometimes, we know when something is wrong, sometimes we choose to ignore it," from TotalCitron.
mentalistprompt : ERNothing Stops Another Day
He killed a man.
She didn't know yet.
x
The case went to the CBI, naturally. He was unceremoniously dumped in an interrogation suite by Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby, to await questioning.
It took all of Madeline Hightower's and Grace Van Pelt's powers of persuasion to get her into the ambulance. She had always been blind to her own well-being.
x
Cho and Rigsby interrogated him, with Bertram and LaRoche watching from the other side of the one way mirror. He freely admitted everything; there was nothing to lie about. Besides, the evidence was damning, they had all they needed without a confession. What else was he meant to do?
Doctors of various guises hovered around her. As a cannula was inserted into her right hand and an intravenous drip her left, she wondered vaguely how long it would be until the pain would abate. They hadn't given her the anesthetic and yet, she was already feeling woozy.
x
He prowled around the holding cell, suddenly realizing just how small they were. It was of no matter, however. Soon, he would be transferred to a prison cell and that would be just as limiting.
She was unaware of what was happening to her. Instead, Van Pelt stood outside of the hospital, fretting and desperately calling her brothers. They would want to know that their sister was in surgery.
x
He fell asleep, welcoming it for the first time in years.
She woke and her mouth was dry.
x
He woke up every fifteen minutes or so. Just because he had finally killed Red John, it didn't mean his insomnia would disappear in a flash.
She didn't sleep at all; how could she with visiting medics every hour? Instead, she watched Van Pelt, who was clearly not telling her something.
x
LaRoche didn't say a word as he escorted him to jail. He didn't care though; he never had much to do with the man. However, he'd imagined this scene time and time again in the past. For some reason, it had always been her accompanying him on this long trek. And they'd have talked and she'd have forgiven him and… Well, of course that was just a fantasy. It would take more than a chat for her to get over this one.
Van Pelt remained stonily silent, much to her irritation. Instead, it was Cho that broke the news to her. She didn't say a word until he was finished. Even then, she didn't say much. What was there to say or do? It wasn't as if she could go back in the past and stop him, like she had always vowed to do so. And really, she didn't know what to think. This was something that needed mulling over.
x
He was offered solitary confinement. He didn't take it.
She was offered more painkillers. She accepted them gratefully.
x
Less than twenty four hours passed before he received his first injury. The staff resisted the urge to say 'I told you so' as his bloody nose was seen to.
A physiotherapist dropped by to see her shortly before she was discharged. She expected her therapy regime as much as she anticipated LaRoche's call about counseling.
x
He wondered what she was thinking. Whether she even knew just yet. She'd been shot, had surgery no doubt. Might not even have been released from hospital yet. The only guarantee was that she wouldn't be back at work, though that wouldn't be through want of trying. A traitorous smile crept to his lips for the first time in days. Briefly, he wondered if she would ever come visit him. She did last time, after all.
She hoped he was holding up okay in jail. That his loose tongue hadn't gotten him into trouble yet. For some reason, she couldn't see that happening. The picture just didn't fit right. He probably thought she was fuming in bed, furious that she hadn't been able to stop him. Truth be told, deep down, she'd expected it. Now that she had time to think about it. Besides, she had more important things to worry about.
x
After a week, he was unwillingly put into solitary confinement 'for his own well-being'.
At the same time, she accepted the offer to go back to work early, if only to be on desk-duty.
x
When he heard he had a visitor, he smiled again. It was, after all, the day before his hearing. He needed something to cheer him up. When he saw it was her, his heart lifted again. The rest of the team had been avoiding him; he had expected her to be the last to break the stony silence.
While she waited at the plastic table, she felt terribly uncomfortable and unwelcome. She was a cop and responsible for putting a fair few convicts behind these very bars. Therefore, she felt vulnerable without her gun. She wanted to see him, but the sooner she was out of here, the better.
x
He tried to apologize immediately, but she cut him off. However, she didn't accuse him of lying and manipulation. Clearly, she had finally accepted that this was always how it was going to end. Instead, she simply asked him how he was going to plead. All he could do was tell her the truth: guilty. After all, he was guilty and he knew it. Everyone did. When it was obvious that she didn't hold it against him, he let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow, this was all going far easier than he had ever anticipated.
She didn't need to hear that he was sorry because, deep down, she could tell he was. Not for shooting Red John in cold blood, oh no. He would never be sorry for that. But for disappointing her, not living up to her expectations? She could see he would hold a lifetime of guilt for that. Not that he needed to harbor any more regrets about his life. Besides, he wasn't entirely to blame. She should have known that he would tell her half-truths when they got close enough to Red John.
x
Before she left, he defied the rules and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. The lack of human, her, touch had been killing him.
She clasped his hands with her own. If she hadn't felt so exhausted in the past nine days, she would have visited him a lot sooner.
x
The hearing went as he expected it. As she had promised the day before, she had attended, despite the fact she didn't have to. The only disappointment was being denied bail; the excuse that he was a 'flight risk' was simply pitiful.
For once, she was glad for desk duty. The others had been called out to a crime scene in the middle of nowhere. Besides, she had to remain true to her word. She wasn't surprised that he was denied bail; she saw it coming from a mile off.
x
He prowled around solitary confinement like a caged tiger.
She did much the same in her office.
x
The days when she visited always brightened his spirits. It was good to see her finally regaining form in that left arm, the one where she'd been shot. When she told him she was back on full duty, he was pleased for her. She didn't need to tell him just how much it irritated her, not being able to work at full capacity.
As she became healthier, it grew increasingly difficult to see him. The combination of physiotherapy, counseling and of course, work, had drained her free time considerably. She hated seeing him in such a state, but knew he needed her. That was why she endured the visits and made herself feel so uncomfortable.
x
Instead of his lawyer, it was her who told him when his case was due to go to court.
She only knew because J.J. LaRoche had been told by the A.G. and she overheard.
x
As the days disappeared before them, they began to avoid taboo subjects. It frustrated him, when she withdrew like this. But he could understand; compartmentalization was her way of dealing with stress.
Eventually, she attempted to solely tell him good news. This place was depressing enough as it was, without her adding to it. She knew full well that he could read her like an open book, but it didn't stop her trying.
x
During the trial, he made a concerted effort not to willfully manipulate the judge and jury. If he did so and was caught, it would have only made his predicament worse. Besides, seeing her there, on as many days as she could feasibly attend, changed things. There was something about those honest, green eyes that made him wish he could turn back time, be a better person. Be the kind of person she wished he could be, the kind she needed.
There were times when she wished she hadn't let herself get so involved in his trial. Of course, there were certain dates when she had to attend. To give evidence and the like. But the rest? Well, that was just her morbid curiosity kicking in. Besides, she felt a moral obligation to support him throughout. She hated the way that they twisted certain things, to try and make out that he was a depraved soul. Really, he had just made an awful decision.
x
The night before the verdict, she visited him. He couldn't have been more grateful to see her. There was nothing like a friendly face coming to support you in your hour of need. 'I love you,' he wished he could say. 'Don't leave me, I need you,' too. The words never came. None ever did.
There was nothing she could say or do in this situation. She didn't even know why she felt compelled to see him. Maybe it was because this was her last chance to see him without his guilt having been proven in a court of law? Or maybe, it was because she needed him as much as he did her.
x
Yes, he did love her, he decided. But how long had they been ignoring the bigger picture for? For the past few months, they had been doing what? Living a lie? Pretending he was innocent when really, he was as guilty as they came? He knew her moral high ground wouldn't stretch to her dating a convict. And he couldn't expect her to lay down everything she had worked so hard for simply for the shell of a man. Somehow, tomorrow felt like a death sentence already.
Sometimes, she wished she could just switch off her feelings for him. But what difference would it make? It would just lead to her feeling lonely and miserable. Besides, how could she judge him for doing what she had done in the line of duty? Yes, he had killed a man, but it was Red John. But she couldn't sacrifice everything she had worked for, not even for him. No law enforcement agency would want an officer who was in love with a jailbird. Of that she was certain.
x
Moments before the verdict came, his heart leapt to his throat.
She simply put her hands together and prayed.
end
