FIC: Allegation (1/1); The Mentalist
Title: Allegation
Author: sirenofodysseus
Rating: T
Characters: Red John (Redford John), Teresa Lisbon (Teresa Jane), Patrick Jane, Craig O'Laughlin, Grace Van Pelt (Grace O'Laughlin), Wayne Rigsby, Kimball Cho, and Luther Wainwright. PJ/TL, RJ/TL, CO/GVP.
Summary: "We will either find you guilty of witchcraft, or we will find you innocent. You do not get a say."
Spoilers: Early season four.
Author's Note: Written for 15genres1prompt, and this is a historical/period piece. I honestly have no idea why I love the Salem Witch Trials as much as I do, but I had a lot of fun writing this!
--
“You’re accused of being a witch, Mr. Jane. What do you say?”
Patrick Jane glanced up from the heavy shackles around his clothed arms and legs to focus his entire attention on the center judge, the high church’s Reverend Redford John, who held a copy of the bible in his callused and aged hands.
“Who dares to accuse me?” Jane inquired from his bench seat. “I am just a lone farmhand, who has a wife to feed.” The town residents dressed in their Sunday best from behind him tittered softly, as Priest Luther Wainwright-the judge on the far left end-raised his young hand into the air with a semi-pompous gait. Jane almost scowled; he absolutely hated the small mindedness of the Reverend and the Priest, who had always believed that they were superior to everybody else within the small rural town. His wife, Teresa had never approved of his manner of speaking against the Reverend or the Priest and she certainly had never approved of his feelings against the secular system. “Mr. Wainwright?”
“It’s Priest Wainwright, Mr. Jane.” Wainwright corrected. Jane said nothing, as the man continued on. “The accusation comes from Craig O’Laughlin’s wife, who claims you have bewitched her.”
“Craig O’Laughlin’s wife and I have not spoken in at least five years, Priest Wainwright.” Jane spoke, bitterly. “I am no more a witch than you, a poor farmhand.” Wainwright nodded. “Yet misters Cho and Rigsby,” Jane paused to stare at the last two members on the court, who both looked appallingly too youthful to be sitting next to Reverend John, dealing with prerogatives of bewitchment and larking around. “You and Reverend John removed me away from my heavy with child wife, who needs her husband for provisions, to rot behind iron bars?”
“Is your wife with us today, Mr. Jane?” Reverend John questioned.
“I sent word for her to stay at home. It is not safe for her to be out.” Jane answered with a frown, and the court leaned forward slightly in interest. “I also did not want her to see me make derision out of the court, and out of Craig O’Laughlin’s mentally unsound wife.”
“You always were a solicitous man, Mr. Jane.” Wainwright commented, dryly.
“Is she here?”
“Craig O’Laughlin’s wife?” Rigsby asked. Jane nodded. “She is not. Mr. O’Laughlin did not want his ailing wife to become bewitched by your powers.”
“What powers?” Jane asked, his voice rising in steady conviction. “Do any of you have proof that I am a witch bewitching you all?” The court said nothing. “You have called the entire town before you to condemn me to my death, and the victimized party does not even sit before us? This is an outcry of petty revenge…”
“You have no right to speak of petty revenge in the Lord’s house, Mr. Jane.” Cho interrupted. Jane narrowed his eyes. “We will either find you guilty of witchcraft, or we will find you innocent. You do not get a say.”
“I do not get a say, Mr. Cho?” Jane repeated. Cho nodded briskly. “My wife would be shamed from the community for marrying a witch, and I do not get a say in that?” The candlelit town residents shrieked in fear. “My child would be ostracized for being conceived…”
“Your wife and unborn child are under the protection of the church, Mr. Jane.” Reverend John gave, solemnly. Jane eyed him in hollow surprise. “Your wife has always had faith in this church, and in return, we pray and continue to support her through this difficult time. If you really must worry that we would deny your wife the right to her child or the right to food, then you must truly think us to be barbarians.”
“I do!” Jane leapt up from his bench seat, and the town residents wailed in fear. “Reverend John, you say that my wife and unborn child are under the protection of the church yet you say in return for her addled holy worship and collection stipend, which goes straight into your stout pockets to pacify your double chins!” The room grew completely still. “You can call me witch all you want, but it will not silence the truth of all the evils that have occurred on your watch, Reverend!” Jane turned to stare down the town residents, when the church door opened to reveal Craig O’Laughlin. Jane eyed him. “You finally have the courage to show your face, Craig?”
Craig O’Laughlin-dressed in his best blacks-narrowed his eyes into slits, before he opened his mouth. “Hang it, Reverend John! This witch made my wife kill herself!” The town recoiled in horror. “My Grace is dead, and you did this, you wretched demon!” Jane opened his mouth to refute the outlandish charge, when Reverend John banged his wooden gavel on the table.
“Witch,” Reverend John glanced at Jane in horror, who sneered. He knew the court wouldn’t even listen to him now, especially with O’Laughlin’s false claim on the proverbial table. “I hereby order you to be executed tomorrow evening for being a wicked creature, may you and your creator rot in hell.”
+++
“Do you have news of my husband?” Teresa asked Reverend John with a timid smile, as he stood outside the Jane home. Reverend John solemnly nodded, and glanced down at her bulging abdomen concealed by her white nightgown. “Is he alright?”
“May I come inside, Teresa?”
Teresa nodded. “Of course, Reverend.” Reverend John followed behind the brunette to the couch, where he helped her sit. “Thank you, Reverend.”
“My church is praying for you and your unborn child, Teresa.” Reverend John soothed. Teresa nodded. “Your husband has been sentenced to death, and you have personal condolences from the church.”
“What?” Teresa exclaimed, and Reverend John sighed.
“Patrick had become possessed by a demon, Teresa.” Reverend John explained. “The demon within him persuaded Grace O’Laughlin to kill herself tonight.” Teresa shook her head in disbelief, as Reverend John grabbed her hand. “You’ll be fine, Teresa.”
“You condemned my husband to his death?”
“Your husband killed Grace O’Laughlin.” Reverend John repeated. “I know this is hard, Teresa. I know it is, but things will get much better.”
“You know absolutely nothing, Reverend!” Teresa stood from her spot on the couch, and she turned to point her finger toward the door. “You will leave my house, or I will get the police!” Reverend John shook his head, and glanced down at the floor. “I said leave!”
“Oh, Teresa.” Reverend John muttered. “I don’t think you understand?”
“Understand what?” Teresa inquired.
“I don’t think you understand that I’m the witch, and I’ve decided that I want you.” Reverend John glanced up from the floor to catch her widened green eyes. “Now, you don’t seriously think I’ll be leaving anytime soon, do you?” Teresa’s face went completely blank, as she mechanically returned to sit back down on the couch without another word, and he chuckled softly to himself. “I just thought you might change your mind, Teresa.” He gently moved his hand to stroke her hair. “You’ll make an excellent wife, really. Craig O’Laughlin’s wife just wouldn’t do.”
Author: sirenofodysseus
Rating: T
Characters: Red John (Redford John), Teresa Lisbon (Teresa Jane), Patrick Jane, Craig O'Laughlin, Grace Van Pelt (Grace O'Laughlin), Wayne Rigsby, Kimball Cho, and Luther Wainwright. PJ/TL, RJ/TL, CO/GVP.
Summary: "We will either find you guilty of witchcraft, or we will find you innocent. You do not get a say."
Spoilers: Early season four.
Author's Note: Written for 15genres1prompt, and this is a historical/period piece. I honestly have no idea why I love the Salem Witch Trials as much as I do, but I had a lot of fun writing this!
--
“You’re accused of being a witch, Mr. Jane. What do you say?”
Patrick Jane glanced up from the heavy shackles around his clothed arms and legs to focus his entire attention on the center judge, the high church’s Reverend Redford John, who held a copy of the bible in his callused and aged hands.
“Who dares to accuse me?” Jane inquired from his bench seat. “I am just a lone farmhand, who has a wife to feed.” The town residents dressed in their Sunday best from behind him tittered softly, as Priest Luther Wainwright-the judge on the far left end-raised his young hand into the air with a semi-pompous gait. Jane almost scowled; he absolutely hated the small mindedness of the Reverend and the Priest, who had always believed that they were superior to everybody else within the small rural town. His wife, Teresa had never approved of his manner of speaking against the Reverend or the Priest and she certainly had never approved of his feelings against the secular system. “Mr. Wainwright?”
“It’s Priest Wainwright, Mr. Jane.” Wainwright corrected. Jane said nothing, as the man continued on. “The accusation comes from Craig O’Laughlin’s wife, who claims you have bewitched her.”
“Craig O’Laughlin’s wife and I have not spoken in at least five years, Priest Wainwright.” Jane spoke, bitterly. “I am no more a witch than you, a poor farmhand.” Wainwright nodded. “Yet misters Cho and Rigsby,” Jane paused to stare at the last two members on the court, who both looked appallingly too youthful to be sitting next to Reverend John, dealing with prerogatives of bewitchment and larking around. “You and Reverend John removed me away from my heavy with child wife, who needs her husband for provisions, to rot behind iron bars?”
“Is your wife with us today, Mr. Jane?” Reverend John questioned.
“I sent word for her to stay at home. It is not safe for her to be out.” Jane answered with a frown, and the court leaned forward slightly in interest. “I also did not want her to see me make derision out of the court, and out of Craig O’Laughlin’s mentally unsound wife.”
“You always were a solicitous man, Mr. Jane.” Wainwright commented, dryly.
“Is she here?”
“Craig O’Laughlin’s wife?” Rigsby asked. Jane nodded. “She is not. Mr. O’Laughlin did not want his ailing wife to become bewitched by your powers.”
“What powers?” Jane asked, his voice rising in steady conviction. “Do any of you have proof that I am a witch bewitching you all?” The court said nothing. “You have called the entire town before you to condemn me to my death, and the victimized party does not even sit before us? This is an outcry of petty revenge…”
“You have no right to speak of petty revenge in the Lord’s house, Mr. Jane.” Cho interrupted. Jane narrowed his eyes. “We will either find you guilty of witchcraft, or we will find you innocent. You do not get a say.”
“I do not get a say, Mr. Cho?” Jane repeated. Cho nodded briskly. “My wife would be shamed from the community for marrying a witch, and I do not get a say in that?” The candlelit town residents shrieked in fear. “My child would be ostracized for being conceived…”
“Your wife and unborn child are under the protection of the church, Mr. Jane.” Reverend John gave, solemnly. Jane eyed him in hollow surprise. “Your wife has always had faith in this church, and in return, we pray and continue to support her through this difficult time. If you really must worry that we would deny your wife the right to her child or the right to food, then you must truly think us to be barbarians.”
“I do!” Jane leapt up from his bench seat, and the town residents wailed in fear. “Reverend John, you say that my wife and unborn child are under the protection of the church yet you say in return for her addled holy worship and collection stipend, which goes straight into your stout pockets to pacify your double chins!” The room grew completely still. “You can call me witch all you want, but it will not silence the truth of all the evils that have occurred on your watch, Reverend!” Jane turned to stare down the town residents, when the church door opened to reveal Craig O’Laughlin. Jane eyed him. “You finally have the courage to show your face, Craig?”
Craig O’Laughlin-dressed in his best blacks-narrowed his eyes into slits, before he opened his mouth. “Hang it, Reverend John! This witch made my wife kill herself!” The town recoiled in horror. “My Grace is dead, and you did this, you wretched demon!” Jane opened his mouth to refute the outlandish charge, when Reverend John banged his wooden gavel on the table.
“Witch,” Reverend John glanced at Jane in horror, who sneered. He knew the court wouldn’t even listen to him now, especially with O’Laughlin’s false claim on the proverbial table. “I hereby order you to be executed tomorrow evening for being a wicked creature, may you and your creator rot in hell.”
+++
“Do you have news of my husband?” Teresa asked Reverend John with a timid smile, as he stood outside the Jane home. Reverend John solemnly nodded, and glanced down at her bulging abdomen concealed by her white nightgown. “Is he alright?”
“May I come inside, Teresa?”
Teresa nodded. “Of course, Reverend.” Reverend John followed behind the brunette to the couch, where he helped her sit. “Thank you, Reverend.”
“My church is praying for you and your unborn child, Teresa.” Reverend John soothed. Teresa nodded. “Your husband has been sentenced to death, and you have personal condolences from the church.”
“What?” Teresa exclaimed, and Reverend John sighed.
“Patrick had become possessed by a demon, Teresa.” Reverend John explained. “The demon within him persuaded Grace O’Laughlin to kill herself tonight.” Teresa shook her head in disbelief, as Reverend John grabbed her hand. “You’ll be fine, Teresa.”
“You condemned my husband to his death?”
“Your husband killed Grace O’Laughlin.” Reverend John repeated. “I know this is hard, Teresa. I know it is, but things will get much better.”
“You know absolutely nothing, Reverend!” Teresa stood from her spot on the couch, and she turned to point her finger toward the door. “You will leave my house, or I will get the police!” Reverend John shook his head, and glanced down at the floor. “I said leave!”
“Oh, Teresa.” Reverend John muttered. “I don’t think you understand?”
“Understand what?” Teresa inquired.
“I don’t think you understand that I’m the witch, and I’ve decided that I want you.” Reverend John glanced up from the floor to catch her widened green eyes. “Now, you don’t seriously think I’ll be leaving anytime soon, do you?” Teresa’s face went completely blank, as she mechanically returned to sit back down on the couch without another word, and he chuckled softly to himself. “I just thought you might change your mind, Teresa.” He gently moved his hand to stroke her hair. “You’ll make an excellent wife, really. Craig O’Laughlin’s wife just wouldn’t do.”