###SPOILER ALERT### MAJOR ONE don't read please if you haven't heard anything or don't want to know
Authors note: Okay I'm so psyched over the finale and the new chick (and the possibilities of a semi naked Simon Baker) that the little teaser they released has been running round my brain at high speed so I wrote a couple of possibilities as to what may happen...
Disclaimer: Well if I did then there would be a mandatory 5 moments of Jisbon per episode, as I'm still not sure if I'm over reading their friendship... I'd just like to know one way or another.
"After another failed attempt to defeat Red John, Patrick Jane (Simon Baker) hits rock bottom, finds a lover and shoots one of his own."
Also I keep trying to double space this but it wont let me, why...
The dark maze of corridors led deeper into the underbelly of the casino, this layer was in stark contrast to the glittering lights of the rooms above him. Jane was unnerved by his situation; he had entered the subterranean basement in search of his nemesis, desperate to end this game. He left the unceasing brightness descending into perpetual darkness about thirty minutes again. Fitting considering just who he was following; the man had already dragged him into bleakness.
He was here, he could feel it. The rest of his team were no doubt fruitlessly searching the dead end lead he had given them. He heard movement just ahead of him; he was so close he could taste it. This case was renewing his waning dedication to getting Red John. Ever since he had killed Timothy Carter he had felt like the black pit that was his heart was filling itself in. His ironically therapeutic reaction to murder. He slowly stepped around the corner careful to maintain his element of surprise.
He had to stifle a shout. Agent Darcy was on the floor, a drying smiley face above her prone body; her skin marred by numerous deep slices. On the carpet was an expanding pool of deep pink where her blood was intermingling with the plush fibres, lightening its usual colour.
He took her gun before averting his eyes; he felt some regret at the feisty woman's death. He continued his descent after the mad man that had plagued his life for so long. There he was up ahead; he saw his shadow move across the wall. He was there... almost in reach. He held the cool metal between clammy fingertips, unsure of whether he could do this again.
Part of him wanted to run, acutely aware of the mounting casualties that this vendetta was putting on his hands. Did the number of your kills make you any less of murderer or were his hands equally as soaked in the blood of the innocents as Red John's was.
The floor creaked where his weight landed on it. The movement stilled up ahead. Straining his ears he could hear breathing, soft and calm, in absolute divergence to his own nervous betraying body. Lisbon was right taking a life no matter how many times you did it never got easier.
Red John was approaching him now, having changed his direction to advance. Never one to run from a fight the serial killer was coming to him. The emergency lights cast a dull greenish cast over the corridor but even in the low lighting Jane could see his hands trembling.
He was almost there, free from the man who had taken everything from him. Red John rounded the corner and his finger moved of its own doing. A slight twitch and the bullet sailed through the air hitting its target square in the chest. The shadow slumped to the floor emitting a loud groan as he fell.
"Rigsby" a shrill cry came from his left as Lisbon emerged from the darkness. Even in the shallow light he could tell it was her. She ran to the body on the floor, clutching him to her like a mother would her child.
"Rigsby, can you hear me? hold on please" she begged before calling Cho on her walky talky to get an ambulance. She kept applying pressure to the wound.
It was like the mask of blindness was lifted and Jane finally saw his colleague and his friend, immobile in Lisbon's arms.
"I... I shot him" He muttered shocked.
Lisbon ignored him too focused on her colleague and the task of keeping him alive. He never noticed the severity of their size difference till now. His lumbering great body being clutched by this tiny woman, it was almost comical. Little and large personified. He awaited the sirens, be they the ones to try save Rigsby or the ones to take him away again, he was not sure, he didn't care.
He had somehow been allowed to go with them, the whole accidental shooting being brushed aside in place of current matters. Jane sat in his cheap plastic seat, staring at passersby, the florescent light making everyone's skin a sickening shade of putrid yellow.
Lisbon was yelling at a doctor for information, she looked like a zombie from here; all red rimmed eyes, jaundiced skin and covered in blood, blood he had spilled. It had been two hours. Cho and Grace were still looking for Red John and wrapping up the evidence collection on Darcy. No doubt they wanted to be here and were probably resentful of his presence.
The doors opened and Sarah walked through on shaky legs. She looked like she was about to collapse though that could be due to the long drive and the screaming baby in her arms. She came across as utterly terrified, so unsure.
He had done this; he had perhaps broken up a family forever. He was just like Red John possibly worse. He was a hypocrite. He looked over to Lisbon for guidance. She had noticed Sarah's arrival and finally let the poor doctor go, finishing up her tirade.
She took a step towards the woman before glancing down. Her eyes widened conceivably realising for the first time the sheer volume of blood, Rigby's blood that was on her. For the first time in years Patrick Jane saw Lisbon loose her cool. She started to swipe at the stains as if pure will would rid her clothes of the offending crimson.
Her hands shook and a tear rolled down her cheek. Sarah reached her and embraced her; clutching Lisbon to her as best she could with her baby bundle. Jane longed to comfort her in such a manner but you can't make the pain go away when you put it there in the first place.
He hated himself right now. He had been filled with petty jealousy ever since Rigsby became a father. The young man so easily getting everything that he wanted, showing him everything he lost. He moved to leave; he couldn't be here any longer.
He sat in the casino bar. They could find him easily if they wanted to, he had not gone far. He slammed down another whisky, the haze starting to dull the throb in his chest.
"Hi Mr. Jane... another one" The pretty server asked. She had served them earlier and her soft smile was the first kindness he had seen all day. He knew her name he did... it was something ... oh why was his mind was not co-operating.
Seeing his brow furrow in concentration and his eyes searching for a name tag, she decided to help him out. "It's Lorelai we spoke earlier."
"Well Lorelai I would love another drink, same again... please" Jane gestured at the several empties on the table.
She nodded, sashaying off to the bar. He had used to go for that type of girl, fun loving, bright and bubbly. She was that kind of girl, the one who knew how to light up a room but only from years of intense practice.
She returned to the table plopping down beside him. The short skirt of her uniform rising higher, she was very attractive; dark like Angela had been, minus her freckles though.
"So bad day?" she opened with.
"One of the worst" Jane clarified.
"Want to talk about it I'm a good listener and I live in Vegas... so no matter what you say I guarantee I've seen and heard worse" she joked.
Jane looked at her honest face and he wanted to tell her... everything. He was so tired of being alone and holding on to everything, what could it hurt to let someone else in.