119A/N: I've marked this story 'M' because it has scenes depicting extreme physical violence as well as strongly implied non-consensual sexual violence. If those themes are upsetting to you please don't read any further. For those who haven't been put off I will say that I expect part one to be very difficult to read but that part two will be of a different bent. Despite initial appearances, this is a story about Jane's vengeance.
Part One: Wronged
Lisbon and Jane stared at each other from opposite walls. A dirty lightbulb weakly illuminated the centre of the room, leaving them in shadow. Lisbon hissed in pain as she tried to slip her bloodied wrists from out of the cable ties. Jane had given up on his, they were so tight he was more concerned with the loss of circulation. Instead he examined the room, hoping to find something useful. He didn't hold out much hope.
Though relatively young, their captors had been quite methodical. Jane and Lisbon had been taken at gun point while chasing a false lead in a vacant apartment building. They'd been instructed to put all their personal items into a garbage bad along with the jackets, socks and shoes.
An uncomfortably thorough frisking had relieved Lisbon of an ankle holstered firearm and Jane of a pen knife. They too went into the bag to join their other personal effects and the shattered remains of their phones. Lisbon's cross was ripped off without warning, leaving an angry red line on her neck, a carbon copy in blood of what they'd taken.
Anticipating their next move Jane had clenched his left hand defensively. A knife convinced him to give up his ring before he lost a digit.
They were gagged and tied at the ankles and wrists and knocked out with chloroform. The entire operation had taken less than five minutes. Their captors had barely acknowledged them except to issue curt instructions. They went barefaced and called each other Ethan and Edgar. Jane strongly suspected they weren't assumed names.
Jane came to when he was being transferred from one vehicle to another. It appeared to be in an underground parking lot. He was still trying to get his bearings when Lisbon's limp body was dumped on top of him and the trunk slammed shut.
When she came too Jane squirmed around awkwardly until he could squeeze her arm to transmit a Morse signal. They searched the trunk as best they could, fighting off nausea and motion sickness; vomiting while gagged was to be avoided at all cost. A quick pulse of Morse revealed neither had found anything. They ended up nestled together like orphaned siblings, seeking mutual comfort through touch and familiar scent.
That had been hours ago. Subsequently they'd been dragged into what looked like a remote farmhouse and abandoned in a concrete room that looked like an ad hoc extension to the original structure. One small mercy was their gags had been removed and some water tipped down their throats. Other than that their world had been reduced to a dirty concrete floor and cinderblock walls.
Jane fought to control the panic that threatened to unman him completely. He and Lisbon had been stripped of any easy means of identification and no-one could possibly know where they were. The circumstances smacked of an organised abduction on behalf of a third party and the thought filled Jane with dread.
He strained his ears but couldn't hear the men who'd plucked them so easily from their routine CBI world. Perhaps they were securing the perimeter or awaiting further instructions. He swallowed heavily. Edgar and Ethan hadn't made any attempt to conceal their identities. His every sense and intuition was telling him things were going to get a lot worse in the near future. He looked over to his friend with a heavy heart. It was now or never.
"Lisbon…"
She stopped tormenting her raw skin against the thin plastic and turned towards him. "What is it Jane?"
She was using concern for him to mask her own fear and her brave front made his chest ache even more. "Remember when I faked that virus outbreak and you thought we were going to die?"
A half laugh, half sob escaped Lisbon before she clamped down on her emotions. "Is this really the time to remind me of that?"
Jane looked at her sadly. "I said I would have called you, if I was really dying. I'd like to make that call now."
Lisbon blinked away tears. "Don't think like that. We just need one of us to get free and…"
"…Lisbon. Hear me out." She stared back at him mutely, lips downturned in dismay. He barely made out the minute nod of her head.
"I just… I just want to say how much it has meant to me. Knowing you for the last three years. I haven't had a lot of good moments since I lost my family but the ones I've had have all been with you. You're my only true friend."
Lisbon's eyes gleamed in the dark as she drank in his words. She blinked slowly. "It's OK Jane, we'll be OK." She a jerked a nod as if to add credence to her words.
Jane sniffed sharply. "Lisbon. I'm sorr…"
"…Don't," she interrupted sharply. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I want you to know, you deserve to know…" She turned away as she struggled to master herself.
"Oh Lisbon…"
With an effort she continued, though her voice shook a little. "You're a better man than you know, Jane. Working with you, I wouldn't have changed it for the world. For all the crap you pulled you also made me happy, you know? You made my life feel bigger and more fun and I really, really needed that. I didn't even know how much until you showed me."
It was Jane's turn to look away. The crisis had precipitated confessions well beyond their normal boundaries and he felt raw and exposed. The room fell quiet except for some furtive sniffles as they fought to restore their normal equilibrium. Jane was the first to break the silence. "OK. Glad we cleared that up." Said with a tone that tried to convey normalcy.
They resumed working on getting free. Jane grimaced as he tried to chafe his cable tie against a tiny burr on the wall he was leaning against. "Whoever gets free buys the other dinner for a month."
"You're on," Lisbon ground out around the pain of her renewed assault against the cable ties. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching made her stop.
The door burst open with a hideous scrape that made Jane's heart leap in fear.
Ethan and Edgar bounced into the room. There was a dreadful exuberance to their movements, dilated eyes and profuse sweating suggested an unknown cocktail of drugs urging them on.
"Right! Right! Right! Let's get the piggies where we can get a good look at them!" They dragged in two battered chairs and roughly seated their captives in the room's centre. Their grip was rough and familiar and it was all Lisbon could do not to retch from the rank smell of sweat, cigarettes and booze. She and Jane were seated side by side, their pinioned arms pulled behind the high backs of their wooden chairs.
Lisbon straightened up. "We're with the CBI. If you don't let us go now every police agency in this state will be after you. Let us go or face a lifetime in prison." Despite being dishevelled, tied up and wearing nothing but her jeans and a tank top she managed to convey conviction and authority. Jane sat silent beside her; looking, processing, formulating strategies.
The two men grinned at each other. Ethan, the smaller of the two stepped forward and casually buried a fist in Lisbon's stomach. Edgar stepped round the back of the chair and straightened her up. His hands lingered on her shoulders, making her squirm as his fingers squeezed the softer flesh below. He brought his lips close to her ear. "No-one knows you're here, missy, and no-one ever will. Scream and holler all you want, won't make no difference." Winded, Lisbon fought for breath but refused to show any other reaction.
"What do you want with us?" Jane spoke up despite his fear, hoping to divert attention away from his friend. "Who's put you up to this?"
Ethan, the more talkative of the two rubbed his stubbled chin in mock thought. "What do we want to do with you?" He leered at Lisbon speculatively. "I can think of lots of things we'd like to do with you, but you're asking the wrong question."
Jane's shoulders slumped fractionally. "Let me guess. It's about what he wants to do with us."
"Oh he's a clever one," Edgar chimed in. Pretty and clever, just like he told us. He was still standing behind Lisbon and his blunt fingers were wandering again. A soft groan of disgust escaped Teresa as the exploration took larger and larger liberties.
"You're half right," Ethan resumed. He squatted down easily in front of Jane. He was square jawed and might have been considered handsome were it not for a thuggish set to his features and a complete lack of empathy in his gaze. Whatever was running through his system had dilated his pupils to the point his eyes were nearly black. "Our special friend has all sorts of plans for you. She's just meat. He doesn't care about her one way or the other."
"One way or the other," Edgar dutifully echoed. "Just keep her breathing." He was an ugly man with thick sensual lips. He knotted his fist in Lisbon's hair and yanked her head back. She glared at him, body taut with fury. A large bead of sweat peeled off his pale face and splattered against her cheek.
"Red John." Jane's flat tone dropped the name into the conversation like a lead weight. Lisbon's eyes cut desperately in his direction before her head thumped into her chest when her tormentor pushed himself away from her in disgust.
Edgar looked to Ethan. "He said his name."
"He did say his name," his friend agreed. He turned from Jane and slapped Lisbon hard on her thigh. "Time to have us some fun!"
"GET OFF!" Lisbon shouted.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Jane cried out simultaneously, but his quick brain was already thinking something was off with the whole scenario.
It was confirmed a second later when he was violently hauled out of his chair and dragged from the room. He fought against his assailants, tried to dig his feet into the concrete floor but was no match for the brute energy of his captors.
Lisbon was left hyperventilating in shock. She tried to quell the dark terror rising in her mind, to prepare herself for the horrors about to be committed on her body. She was shivering and involuntary mewls of panic added to her humiliation. One minute, two minutes. Nothing. She gradually became aware of noises from up above her; sounds from the next room.
She tried to make out what was happening over the blood rushing in her ears.
"… get the camera pointed…"
"…pills…
"…do him first…"
"You know you don't want to do this…" Jane's voice, remarkably calm given the circumstances. A heavy blow cut him off.
"… get that fucking gag into him…"
Lisbon's confusion turned to horror as she got a sense of what was going on. There were sounds of struggle as the two sadists shouted instructions to each other as they forcibly stripped their victim. Ignoring the pain Lisbon redoubled her efforts against her bounds.
The struggles ceased. Lisbon cast about the room, trying to think of anything that might get them out of this horror.
"Hello Patrick." The voice was high pitched and unnaturally loud and made Lisbon sit up in shock. "I see the boys have gagged that clever mouth of yours." There must be a sound system in the other room, Lisbon thought wildly.
There were muffled noises as Jane fought against the gag.
The voice that could only be Red John's resumed. "In a few minutes I'm going to let them have their fun with you. You are going to be degraded and humiliated in ways you never imagined. Consider this the first step in your initiation to your true self. I'm going to oversee your total destruction and when there's nothing left I'll come to you in person and you will love and worship me. You will thank me, Patrick. And then I'll remake you in my image and you shall be Glorious."
Jane forced a word out from around the gag. "Why?!"
"Why? Because I can and I so desire. This isn't punishment Patrick. I'm going to extraordinary lengths on your behalf. When I saved your life from those frauds trying to claim my work it confirmed how truly special you were. I confess that when I felt you shiver under my palm, I'd never experienced anything quite like it. I knew I had to have you completely.
You are to enjoy a singular honour. I will raise you up above even my most devoted followers. You, my sweet lamb will become a tiger like me."
A fresh burst of struggle from Jane interrupted Red John's twisted soliloquy. Once it subsided the psychopath continued as if there'd been no interruption.
I'm going to have your gag removed because I don't want any secrets between us. I want to read your soul as you scream it out from between your lips. Sweet Patrick. Deep down you're going to enjoy this experience..."
He was interrupted by further incoherent noise and thrashings as Jane tried to vocalise his objection.
"…I want to hear you enjoy it Patrick. It's one of my requirements and if you don't deliver I'll have dear Edgar and Ethan bring in your little friend to join us. How wonderful her pain will be. How illuminating. How long will you be able to bear watching her being torn apart knowing it's all your fault?
Jane slumped. The fight suddenly gone from his body.
The camera lens took it in dispassionately. It's tiny red light burned like an evil eye.
"This IS all your fault. You killed your sweet wife and child with your thoughtless arrogance. That's why you know you deserve every filthy torment I can come up with. Because each agony and humiliation will bring you a step closer to me and freedom from your guilt."
Now Ethan and Edgar, my good lusty boys. Let's begin."
The gag was removed and Jane promptly vomited on the floor. His mind scurried around like a mouse trapped inside his skull. He could feel the drugs he'd been force fed sending blood to the extremities he least wanted them to go to. The thought his body could be forced to be complicit in his degradation horrified him.
He knew he could withdraw completely, float clear of what was being done to him but Red John would know and his vengeance on Lisbon would be terrible. On the other hand the thought of Red John watching, of Red John gloating and directing his humiliation was beyond bearing.
How to negotiate the difficult terrain of appearing to give his nemesis what he wanted while preserving his inner integrity and desire for vengeance? It took a mentalist as exceptional as Patrick Jane's to find an answer.
His subtle, tricky mind took him back to Malibu. It situated him on a beach with Angela and Charlotte while simultaneously he was grabbed by two pairs of hands in the real world.
Concentrating fiercely, he clutched his family close. He was so profoundly grateful to see them again. Angela took his hand. "It's going to be OK Patrick. Just stay with us and it'll be OK."
Jane nodded, tears of gratitude streaking his face. They felt real beyond imagining. Charlotte snuggled in closer to him, her upturned face surrounded by a riot of curls. "It's 4th of July daddy! We're going to watch the fireworks!"
The first rocket shot up into the sky and burst into colour. Jane blinked in surprise; he'd felt the slightest hint of pain when it exploded but it was easy to ignore when he saw Charlotte clap in delight. Other's followed in quick succession. Singles and multiples climbing majestically before a dull crump signalled the appearance of another psychadelic bouquet. The tiny pin pricks of pain continued but it was nothing, really. All that mattered was Charlotte's childlike wonder.
He looked over to his wife. Angela seemed to be watching different kind of show. Her eyes were glassy with moisture and she squeezed his hand white whenever several rockets burst together. It reminded him of the time he'd taken her to a boxing match promoted by one of his clients. For a brief second Jane felt another reality superimposed over the beach. One where a high pitched voice was directing two animals to exert themselves further while someone screamed like a stuck pig…
"Daddy look at me!" His daughter's voice brought him back to the beach. Several more fireworks reached out to the stars before bursting into purples and blues. "Are you watching daddy?" Her eyes were so bright and alive. Jane nodded enthusiastically. Of course he would watch, he would do anything to make his little girl happy, anything at all.
The show went on and on but Jane made sure to stay focussed on his daughter. At one point Angela handed him an ice cream. It was pistachio, a flavour he didn't like and he would have refused but for the expression on her face. For a second the other scene threated to return so he turned quickly to Charlotte. She had an ice cream too; strawberry, her favourite. Everything was suddenly OK again. He ate his ice cream and watched a thousand shooting stars give up their lives in multi coloured glory. Everything was OK while he had his wife and child with him.
In the other room Lisbon didn't have Jane's mental resources to protect her sanity. The sound coming through was muffled but not enough to leave her in any doubt as to what was happening, especially when Red John's instructions turned shockingly explicit and Jane started crying out in pain.
She too was plunged into her past, though there was no comfort there. Lisbon was transported back to one of her father's drunken rages when he charged through their house like a deranged bull, grabbing her brothers from out of their beds despite their screams of terror. She'd plunged herself into the fray, anything was better than listening to their torment, even bone bruises and broken ribs.
As often as not a 12 year old girl was as nothing in the face of the drunken storm of a grown man. She'd be cast aside to slam into walls or furniture and fall half senseless to the ground. She persisted, however, because sometimes her eyes would remind him of her mother's. Then the rage would pass and he'd turn maudlin instead. She would be free to comfort her brothers while he passed the rest of the night crying into his drink.
Despite her fear, that same protective imperative compelled Lisbon to roll off her chair and drag herself to the door. She kicked and yelled for them to stop, daring them to come try it on her rather than Jane.
The balls of her feet were torn and bloody by the time the door burst open to reveal Edgar. He was naked from the waist down. That and the smell of blood and shit sent Lisbon flying against the back wall in a mad panic. She held her arms to protect her head which left her open to a brutal kick to the ribs. Lisbon's vision darkened and a heavy ringing drowned out everything else.
She realised she was lying flat against the cold floor, each breath a tiny agony as her lungs expanded her rib cage. In the other room Red John droned on, exhorting his minions and trying to dissect tiny pieces of Jane's mind. Things changed inside Lisbon. She saw into another world that not even her faith could shield her from. There was a crack in reality and what had leaked through was utterly evil.
The show was finally coming to an end. All the big rockets had been fired and it was only the small stuff that was left. Jane hugged his family, trying to permanently fix them in his mind. He knew he would never see them again.
Charlotte kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Goodbye daddy, I'll always love you." He forced himself to smile despite the lump in his throat.
Angela cradled his face between her hands and kissed him as sweetly as on their first date. "We were lucky to have you Patrick. Never forget that, no matter what."
The beach was gone and Jane was back in his body. He could feel the rough floor grinding into his chest, stabs of pain that moved through his core like jagged bolts of lightning. He was trapped beneath the soulless gaze of the camera, pinned like a butterfly. Pressing down on his mind were the memories of what had happened in the room and his body shook with humiliation.
The animals who'd tortured him seemed equally ashamed, almost as if Red John's evil had been so great as to illuminate a tiny spark of humanity even in such dross as themselves.
Red John. Jane could still hear his voice twisting through his psyche. Telling him what he felt, what he wanted. He heaved, then recoiled from what he brought up. Despite his agony of mind and body he had two things to console him. The first was he'd seen Charlotte and Angela again. That alone was worth almost any price. The second was that he'd walked the tightrope between reacting to what was done to him and retaining control of his mind. Despite the drugs and Red John's perverted suggestions, he'd denied his tormentor the physical response he'd been hoping for.
He was grabbed by the shoulders and couldn't help crying out in fear. He was pulled to his feet. His legs barely held him up, however, and he stumbled against a table before being shoved towards the door. He was half marched, half dragged back to the first room.
He was pitched forward and rolled close to where Lisbon was pressed up against the back wall. The mere sight of her brought him a small morsel of comfort, even though the look she gave him killed the tiny hope she'd been unaware of what happened.
Jane looked back over his shoulder, fearful of what Edgar and Ethan would do. His fear proved groundless. Any desire for mischief was well and truly sated.
Ethan flung Jane's clothes in the room. "Get dressed, faggot." The door slammed shut as if to close the chapter on their role in what transpired. Pilate himself couldn't have washed his hands of it so comprehensively.
Lisbon inched towards Jane and rested her cheek on his back. Her heart broke when she saw the evidence of what they'd done to him. "Oh Jane…" her voice trailed off. Their situation was so bleak she almost wished they were both dead. They lay there listening to each other breathe for an indeterminate period of time.
Without warning a tiny tongue of flame appeared between Jane's hands. A second later the cable tie melted and his wrists were free. He turned to face her. Though somewhat subdued, there was a familiar sparkle in his eyes as he revealed the lighter concealed in his palm. It was enough to rekindle the flame of hope in Lisbon's heart.
