Big Bang Fic: Runaway Chapters 1-4
Title: Runaway
Rating: T for themes
Summery: Post Season 3 finale. Grace doesn't handle the situation at the cabin very well and disappears.
Authors Note: Written for the Mentalist Big Bang 2011/2012. This is my big bang. Word count ~14,500. Special thanks to
sprl1199 for the wonderful beta and
miss_peg for the cheer leading and the art. Art can be found here.
Chapter 1
She watched as Craig dropped before her, too stunned to speak. How had this happened to her? How had she been so thoroughly fooled? She went to him, wanted to make sure that it was really happening. He pulled off her necklace, the one that he had given her, and the last little bit of her died inside.
She stood outside the cabin as cops came, watched them mill around. Was this what she looked like at a scene to the people who were in shock? To the victims? Like insects at a garbage dump, marking everything and ignoring everything at the same time.
She heard someone laugh and shuddered. How could someone laugh? Her fiancé, lie or not, was in the cabin on the floor, dead. Her boss, a woman she looked up to more than anything in the world was on her way to the hospital, gunshot wound to the shoulder, hopefully nothing lingering or fatal , and everyone else…
She knew someone should call Cho and Rigsby and Jane, but she couldn’t make her hands reach for her phone, heavy in her pocket. She saw Hightower out of the corner of her eye, crouched down talking to her children; they at least would be ok.
She knew she should do something, talk to someone, she was going to have to give a statement to someone, tell about what she knew, about her relationship with Craig, if that was even his name. Would he be able to get a job with the FBI if that wasn’t his name? Could working for Red John give you access to the power required to fake your identity so perfectly?
She knew they would ask her questions about what they had done together, how their relationship had progressed, why they had gotten engaged so quickly, why they were getting married so quickly. And she would have to tell her parents. Tell them that her fiancé, the man that she loved, thought she loved, was in league with a serial killer.
And she couldn’t do it.
She stepped off the porch and walked towards the gate, she didn’t know where she was going, she just knew that she couldn’t stay here. She walked out the gate, no one noticed her. Past the police car sitting in the driveway, surrounded with more insect like cops paying her no mind, scuttling around in the dirt that surrounded the cabin.
She turned up the road, heading in the opposite direction of town. She didn’t want to run into anyone. She didn’t know what lay in that direction, walking up the mountain, but she knew that it was the only way she could escape.
Chapter 2
Teresa Lisbon was tired. Not her normal long day at the office and dealing with the pain in the ass she called her consultant sort of tired, but bone tired. Her eyes didn’t want to open; it was like they were taped shut. Her mouth was gritty as though she’d spent a week in the desert without fresh water. The pain came last to her recognition, a dull aching feeling that started in her shoulder and then reverberated through her whole body.
She knew something was wrong, she knew that there was something that she needed to remember. She thought about what had been going on, about Madeline and about her kids and Jane’s harebrained plan to catch Red John that actually seemed like it was working…
And then it hit her, the cabin, Grace’s fiancé, a gun fight and a ride in an ambulance. And then she wished that she was sleeping, that she wasn’t waking up from what was probably surgery. She vaguely remembered a ride in an ambulance, doctors telling her that she they had to repair the damage to her shoulder. She didn’t know where her team was, she didn’t know where Jane was. Grace was going to be going through hell and she wasn’t there to help her.
She heard the door to her room open and hoped that it was just a nurse coming to check to make sure she was alive still. The very un-nurse like shuffling of feet made her realize that it wasn’t a nurse and the familiar smell told her that it was Rigsby and Cho. She didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that both of them were here, that anyone was here at all.
Either they really did care about her or something was wrong. The silence that followed the click of the door shutting told her it was the latter. She didn’t want to know. It was either Jane or Grace and she didn’t think she could handle either.
The not talking that the two of them were doing was driving her crazy. She opened her eyes, blinked, opened them again. They were swimming in her vision; Cho had Rigsby’s body, any other time she would have laughed. She tried to talk, but it just came out as a strangled noise.
Cho moved first, pouring her a glass of water from a pitcher that was on a tray next to her bed. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she wasn’t going to question it right now; she needed moisture in her mouth. She didn’t drink much, just a small sip to remove the sandpaper from her tongue.
She waited a few minutes before she tried again. Rigsby looked uncomfortable, and kept sneaking looks at the door as if looking for an easy escape.
“Tell me.” She didn’t have the energy, or the voice for pleasantries. She just needed to know so they could start dealing with whatever mess was left over after this fiasco of Jane’s.
When there was no immediate answer from Cho or Rigsby she gave them what she hoped was a menacing look that promised pain and suffering if she didn’t get answers soon.
“Jane shot a man in cold blood in the middle of a shopping mall, and Grace walked off the scene at the cabin and hasn’t been seen since.”
Her blood ran cold. She wasn’t sure why the heart monitor next to her hadn’t pick up that her heart felt like it was going to break into a million pieces. There was a pain in her chest that she hadn’t felt in ages, the pain that someone you love and care for is hurt, gone, and there is nothing you can do. “How long?”
“We haven’t seen Grace since last night. Jane shot who he says is Red John the same time you were shot, or just about.”
She closed her eyes, sinking back into the bed. She wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up. This was a nightmare. She didn’t want to deal with this. She could guess why Grace had disappeared, she only hopped that the young woman hadn’t done anything that she would regret. Not that walking away from a crime scene where it was revealed that your fiancé was working with a serial killer and had in all probability used you to get closer to the case was a good thing, but Lisbon could understand why she had done it.
“Jane?” She knew that Cho would understand the question, though she could see a look of confusion on Rigsby’s face. He always was one step behind.
“In jail. He’s not bothering to deny anything. Might be able to claim self-defense if the other guy had a gun on him, but there was no indication that he was threatening Jane at all. Insanity more likely.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. She thought she was tired before, now she was weary. “Grace?” She almost whispered.
“Her cell is off, we can’t trace it. No activity on her credit cards and, no ATM activity after about 10:00 last night. Cleared out her account near as we can tell. We haven’t called her family yet, not sure what to say.”
“I’ll call.” She knew that she should. She was the boss after all. If anyone was going to call Grace’s family it should be her.
She didn’t say anything else; just lay there, eyes closed, until she heard the door open and the men shuffling out.
She could feel tears pricking in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was crying with grief for Grace or disappointment over Jane. She was sure only one of the two was worth crying over, but couldn’t figure out which.
Chapter 3
Grace stood in the street corner of a tiny town she didn’t know the name of trying to think. She’d left in such a daze that she hardly remembered getting on the bus and coming here, wherever here was. She was still in California, but no longer anywhere she was familiar with. This wasn’t one of the small towns that the team had gotten called to on a case…at least she didn’t think so. She’d left her cell phone at one of the bus stations between where she’d gotten on and where she’d gotten off. She didn’t want to be found. Not now.
The air was dry. She was still in the mountains; there were red woods around her. She could smell the dry dust that she had come to associate with these small mountain towns, especially in the summer. It wasn’t what she was used to, but she didn’t care. She was still in shock, still walking as if in a dream. She had killed the man she thought she loved. How could she live with that? How could she live knowing that she’d betrayed her team?
She hadn’t eaten, not that she was hungry, but knew that she needed to eat something. Or at least, there was a voice in her head saying that it was important. The voice sounded oddly like her mother. Another person she’d let down. The voice told her to drink too. She wasn’t sure the last time she’d done that either. There was a diner across the street from where she stood: a mom and pop style with café curtains and a sign proclaiming the best pie in the county.
As if on auto pilot she crossed the street. When she opened the door, a bell rang, causing her to startle at the unexpected, loud noise. She’d been alone with her thoughts for hours…or was it days? She was losing track. She stood in the restaurant-it wasn’t as dim as she was expecting-and looked around. She didn’t know where to sit, didn’t know what to do.
“Just take a seat wherever, Hon, be with you in a moment.” A plump woman said, coming from a doorway near a counter.
Grace didn’t say anything, just slipped like a ghost her way to a table in a corner and picked up the menu on the table. She didn’t read it. Her eyes were unfocused; she was staring and not seeing.
“Can I start you off with a drink, Hon?” She jumped a little at the voice. “Didn’t mean to startle you. We’ve got Coke products.”
Grace nodded, trying to look at the menu again, her eyes swimming. “Um…just water I think.”
“Know what you want?”
“No, no not really.” She knew she should eat, but at the moment the thought of food-of something warm and life-giving-was so foreign as to be incomprehensible.
“I recommend the meatloaf.” When Grace didn’t answer, the woman continued, “I’ll give you a few minutes,” and then walked away.
Meatloaf didn’t sound good. Nothing sounded good. Why did she need to eat? Her mother’s voice was back, had to eat to keep up her strength, to keep from getting sick. But she didn’t care. Who would care if she was sick? She had no one now.
She barely recognized the woman coming back and sitting a glass of ice water on the table in front of her. Grace heard the woman ask a question, or, at least, she heard noise coming out of her mouth, but couldn’t comprehend it. It was as if a cloud, a fog, had settled over her mind. She couldn’t think; her hands were shaking. She opened her mouth to say something to the woman standing in front of her and found that she couldn’t think. The world around her went black.
Chapter 4
Rigsby sat at his desk for no good reason, really: He didn’t have to be at work-they had all been given desk duty what with Grace and Jane and all that-but he just couldn’t help it. It was habit. He knew there had to be a way to find her.
“Stop thinking so hard, you’re going to wear out your brain.”
“Funny.” Rigsby ignored the Asian man who sat down in the desk across from his. Cho had come back to the office with him after they had seen Lisbon at the hospital. Rigsby was sure Chow as feeling just as helpless as he was, but was just hiding it better.
“There has to be a way we can find her.”
“She doesn’t want to be found.”
“You can’t know that.” Rigsby spun slowly in his chair. There was no joy in it, just a mindless movement to keep from going crazy.
“I can.” Cho’s voice was still, steady, same as it always was.
“How!” Rigsby was getting annoyed. No one seemed to care. Everyone was focused on Jane. It just didn’t seem right.
“If she’d wanted to be found, she would have told us where she was going or gotten in touch with us. Instead she turned off her phone, cleared out her bank account and stopped using her credit cards. She knows how not to be tracked. After all, she’s the one who always does the tracking down.”
Rigsby opened his mouth, closed it again, and then kept spinning. He couldn’t bear to think that Grace would be running from them, form him. That she wouldn’t come to him for comfort. They were friends, weren’t they?
“Yeah, but why would she leave? I mean, we’re her friends!” Rigsby said, coming to a stop.
“She was the person who told the mole that the woman who had been framed as the mole was in hiding. And then she shot her fiancé and was most likely the one who made the fatal shot.”
“I never did like that guy.” Rigsby muttered under his breath, resuming his spinning. If only Jane were here, he would be able to figure out where Grace was.
********
Lisbon sat up in her hospital bed. She was on pain medication that was making her feel better than she had in ages. She looked at the folder in her hands. She’d had Cho send over Grace’s personnel file. She didn’t know if that was the proper thing to do, but she knew that she needed to be the one who called Grace’s family, not LaRoche or some nameless, faceless, impersonal person. Besides, she was the only one who would be able to answer the hard questions that Grace’s family was likely to ask.
She took a deep breath and picked up her cell phone. Slowly dialing the number, she put her phone to her ear and listened to the sound of it ringing in her ear. She prayed briefly that no one would answer the phone-that she would be spared from making this call for at least a while-but that wasn’t to be.
“Hello?”
Lisbon sighed. “Hello. This is Teresa Lisbon. I work with Grace, is this Mr. Van Pelt?” She had his first name in the file, but she didn’t think it was appropriate, not under the circumstances.
“Yes, this is him.” Lisbon could hear the slight panic in his voice, and she knew that he was going through all the possible horrible situations that could be coming.
“Mr. Van Pelt, I don’t know how to say this.” She took a deep breath, trying to gather her nerves. “There’s been an incident.”
“No.” His voice was barely audible; she was sure that he was thinking the worst, that Grace was dead. She continued quickly, before he was too far gone to think clearly.
“There was a mole, a person who worked with our office that was helping a serial killer named Red John.” She paused; she could hear breathing on the other end. He was still listening. “We thought we knew who it was, but we were wrong.” She found herself tearing up; she should be able to handle this.
“Grace would never-“ Lisbon cut him off in mid sentence.
“She didn’t know that we had the wrong person. But she brought the mole to a safe house where we were guarding a witness.” She paused again, but continued before Mr. Van Pelt would have a chance to say something. “It was Craig; he had been lying, using her to get close to the case. He tried to shoot us, he did shoot me. Grace, she did the only thing I’m sure that she could think of. She had to shoot him.”
There was a gasping noise, and Lisbon for the first time wished she’d taken more time to get to know Grace. Wherever she was hiding, Grace would never forgive Lisbon if she gave her father a heart attack.
“How is Grace? Why are you calling?” She could still hear the panic in the man’s voice, like he somehow knew that the worst hadn’t come yet.
“We don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“She was at the scene, and before anyone had a chance to talk to her, while the paramedics were still working on me, she disappeared.”
There was silence on the other end of the line as the man digested what she had said.
“What do you mean, disappeared?”
“I’m sorry, sir; we don’t know where she is. She’s turned off her cell phone. She’s not using her credit cards; we don’t have a way to track her. No one has seen her.”
“Was she…was she kidnapped?” If possible, his voice seemed even shakier than it had just moments earlier.
“No, we don’t think she was.” Lisbon looked down at the sheet of paper that had the only information they knew about Grace’s disappearance on it. “One of the local officers on the scene reported seeing her walk from the house, but didn’t think anything of it. She cleaned out her bank account; we think she’s using cash.”
“She doesn’t want us to know where she is?” His voice sounded broken. Lisbon wished that she could be there for him, wished she’d made sure that his wife was there, that he had someone, but she hadn’t.
“She’s been through a lot. We will find her. We will make sure she’s ok.” She said as gently as she could.
As she hung up the phone she realized her words were nothing but an empty promise, nothing more than false hope.