Wonder ~ Patrick Jane "the Mentalist" One-Shots

A Scar for Two, Part 2

Summary: After Red John's threat on your life, you return home with extra protection and VanPelt to sit out the first of many nights on lock down with the sadness of Jane's breakup heavy on your heart.

Warnings: Some scary crap; people at gunpoint, people hurt with knives, blood rust, mentions of murder and death and torture, brief 'torture.' Nothing we Mentalist fans can't handle.

A/N: Sorry for not updating on time! Busy days have been a happening. Anyways, enjoy this *intense* One-Shot!

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So this is what it feels like to be in official lock down. Closed within your own walls, once so comforting and homely and now like prison bars; only they mainly kept dangers out. Over ten agents from the CBI and a few local officers came to maintain a perimeter. You yourself were an agent and knew the exact protocol for a situation like this, but you watched helplessly as they worked to protect you. Cameras were rigged up, locks and detectors set, and guards stationed throughout your property. You and VanPelt picked up some takeout on the way home and sat together on the couch, eating sushi while watching some cheesy rom-com.

"You ever think we'll end up like that?" VanPelt used her chopsticks to point at the two 'newly weds' on the screen.

"What? Married and head over heels in love?" You retorted.

"Oh and now that's a bad thing!"

"What do you mean now!"

VanPelt shook her head. "You are head over heels in love with Patrick Jane."

Your jaw dropped. "N-no!"

"Yes," VanPelt smiled deviously. "Yes you are." She bit into a sushi roll. "And so is he by the way."

"Maybe..." You trailed off.

"Ok, no more boys for tonight!" VanPelt announced, climbing off the couch and stretching. "Ice Cream?"

"In the freezer."

All your sushi was demolished and being enjoyed by a happy stomach but the anticipation of ice cream was just enough to make you sigh in content. You rolled your shoulders and reclined against the couch. The sting of Jane's break up and everything that followed; the silent treatment; the lack of touch; the thought of Red John coming to your door and cutting you to shreds and the impact that would have on Jane, it never really went away the past few days. Despite all that, you managed to grow sleepy, drifting away from blood and loneliness and into something as milky and sweet as chocolate ice cream as your eyes fluttered shut...

"Open your eyes but don't move a muscle."

Just like that your eyes flew open again. The house was eerily silent, aside from the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen, which meant -

VANPELT!

You jolted and the cold tip of a gun pressed against your temple. A shiver ran down your spine. Slowly, you turned your head towards the left, moving just enough to catch a glimpse of who held you at gunpoint. But it turned out you didn't need to see to know, your heart was already racing, beating to the rhythm of a name as unholy as the devil himself.

Staring down at you was the gory mask, bubbly and uneven like raw flesh boiled by fire; Red John.

Of all your encounters while being a CBI agent, you'd never once known such terror. Every nerve ending in your body stood up like the hairs on your skin. Bile groaned in your stomach and your head pulsed against the muzzle of the gun threatening to blow out your brains. You tried to swallow but your tongue was thick and dry as the rest of your mouth. You could still hear VanPelt scooping plentiful amounts of ice cream for the two of you, unaware of what danger you were in - she was in! Even though your face must have been white as a sheet and your body shaking in small tremors, your first thought was to speak.