Title: The World without Anodyne (Part 1)
Fandom/Spoilers: The Mentalist
Pairing(s): one-sided Red John/Patrick Jane (implied Patrick/Teresa and somewhat Patrick/Kristina)
POV: Red John
Rating: Nc-17
Warnings: Non-consensual sex and hints of violence (as much as is required to subdue someone). And Red John. He needs a warning all his own.
Spoilers: 'Red Sky in the Morning'. This is also a companion piece to my other snippet Delirium, although it is not necessary to go back and read it in order to understand this piece. Otherwise, I think you're safe as long as you know who Red John is and why Patrick Jane is pursuing him.
Notes: Special shout-out to grenegome. It's her fault I'm hooked on Red John and his strange fascination with Jane. Also—'anodyne' refers to anything that relieves (or allays) pain or distress.
Disclaimer: All characters are the sole property of 'The Mentalist'. The quote at the beginning of this story belongs entirely to Norman Mailer; the end, to Kenneth Langtry.
Summary: Someday, Jane will thank him...
"Crude thoughts and fierce forces are my state.
I do not know who I am.
Nor what I was.
I cannot hear a sound.
Pain is near that will be like no pain felt before." ~Norman Mailer
In the wee hours of the morning, another night—another world away from their last encounter, John stands at the foot of Jane's makeshift bed and watches the mentalist as he sleeps, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the subtle kiss of solicitude above his brow... He wants to claim this blessed silence for his own, but it is neither the time nor the place to break its tranquility. He must be patient.
Red John inhales deeply, matches Jane breath for breath. He is touching Jane without touching Jane, occupying the same room, tasting the same air... They are in perfect harmony with one another.
As they should be.
He feels a sudden thrill at their proximity; struggles to contain himself. Experience has taught him that these things must not be rushed, least of all where Jane is concerned. Jane has grown wise to his ways, has afforded much of his time and effort to dissecting Red John from afar. It would be an insult to fumble his way through this. Such an intimate affair requires grace.
Red John lifts the syringe into the light, inspecting the sedative under the oily illumination of the streetlamps beyond the windowpane. A car passes the front of the house, water sloshing between tire and pavement. Somewhere, a dog is barking.
The world continues to swivel in ignorant bliss.
He taps the glass gently to expel any remnants of air, and then manoeuvres around the mattress until he's kneeling beside Jane's head, needle at the ready. A quick jab to the neck and Patrick's eyes flutter briefly, breath catching somewhere in his throat, a small reminder of the thin line separating life from death...
Jane's consciousness surrenders to his will.
It is with this simple act that he has begun the delicate process of enlightenment, the slow and sensual extrication of the human psyche. And it is with this act that he welcomes Jane to the fold, to the world outside this world, where the pneuma is free to do what it will, when it will, exactly as it pleases...
Someday, Jane will thank him.
...Someday.
"I want him to know and feel pain,
So that when I alleviate it he'll also know gratitude
...What I create I must control" ~Kenneth Langtry