No Good Deed, 50 Phrases, Rating: G

[HearMeCalling]

Title: No Good Deed
Author: HearMeCalling
Rating: G
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, Team
Disclaimer: I have a headache, but no Mentalist.
Summary: He’d never know just how angry she was with him, especially if the girl didn’t make it.
Notes: 50 Phrases: There’s no need

No Good Deed

One question haunts and hurts
Too much, too much to mention:
Was I really seeking good
Or just seeking attention?

“Damn it, Jane, she’s bleeding out.”

Lisbon shot a fiery look of anguish over her shoulder as the small child’s eyelids fluttered shut. Jane had froze, simply staring at the sorry situation, terrified to come any closer. The rest of the team were chasing down the monster who had stabbed the girl, though not fatally. Not yet, anyway. The brunette’s hands had moved swiftly and were currently pressing as firmly as possible on the wound, not that it was doing much good. With frustration, Lisbon sighed and mumbled at the girl, begging her to hold on, to be strong. Telling her that she was going to be okay and that she wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“Jane, I need your help,” she shouted once more, her throat growing hoarse. “If you carry on just standing there, she’s going to die.”

Silence.

He still couldn’t move.

Wouldn’t move.

It wasn’t her fault that the blonde curls cascaded down her face the same way as his daughter’s had.

Nor the fact that the blood pooling at her side reminded him of that horrific scene he’d been greeted with on the fateful night that Red John had torn his family apart.

“Don’t go,” she whispered plaintively. “There’s no need. We don’t need the money, Patrick.”

After placing his daughter down on the ground and stopping to ruffle her blonde curls affectionately, he eventually approached his beautiful wife. He reached up and placed a hand gently on her cheek before placing a kiss firmly on her lips. Jane groaned as the woman he loved deepened it, not at all ashamed of the fact they were displaying their affections in front of their daughter. She was used to it anyway, her parents were both exhibitionists of sorts, so it took quite a lot to embarrass her. However, she did decide that it was time to allow her parents to say goodbye to one another on their own. Besides, her dolls weren’t going to play with themselves anyway.

“This is the last one, I promise,” he whispered while keeping her close. “I can’t pull out of the contract.”

“And what about the CBI?”

“Meh, everyone needs to do a few good deeds.”

“And do they appreciate it?”

The question remained unanswered as he turned his back on her and they disentangled their fingers. She was certain that they would be reunited in less than twenty four hours anyway. Fate and Red John had different plans for her, however.

Tentatively daring to move just the one hand, Lisbon dialled 911, all the while glaring at Jane. The kid could die and all he could do was stand there, with a stricken look written across his features. Lisbon ignored the fact that he was visibly shaking, she had to. There were more pressing matters for her to be dealing with. The little girl’s eyes slowly opened, her big blue orbs staring up at her, clearly terrified. Wordlessly, she took hold of one of her small hands and gripped reassuringly, allowing a quiet prayer to a God she wasn’t sure she believed in slipping through her lips. If her shaky faith aided the girl’s survival, she didn’t care what Jane thought.

Besides, he’d never know just how angry she was with him, especially if the girl didn’t make it.

[HearMeCalling]

***

Lisbon had received the news in her office and was thoroughly relieved that she was sitting down. Roughly, she pulled out a tissue from the box that she usually reserved for the relatives of victims and dabbed gently at the corners of her eyes. She wouldn’t allow herself to break down entirely on CBI premises, but she couldn’t stop a tear or two making its presence known. When Cho knocked sharply on the door, she allowed a ragged sigh to escape from her lips before acknowledging and granting him access.

“The father’s here,” he spoke. “He wants to speak with you.”

She nodded her quiet gratitude and followed Cho through to the bullpen, where a weedy man with red-rimmed eyes was waiting for her. The moment he saw Lisbon, he leapt to his feet, like a coiled spring, drawing back his arm. Before he had a chance to actually hit her, Rigsby had hold of him, eyes filled with an indignant rage. Nobody went to hit a woman he cared about under his watch. It didn’t matter that he had lost his daughter, there was absolutely no excuse for violence. Besides, Lisbon had tried her best to save her, everyone knew that.

“She died,” he seethed, while Rigsby retained his firm grip on him. “She died because of you.”

Lisbon stared, aghast, at the grieving father.

This happened all too often.

Another angry man, just a month ago, furious because she hadn’t been able to stop a rapist getting hold of his daughter. Still fuming, possibly justifiably so, after eight years of hurt and simply looking for someone to point an accusative finger at.

Children wondering why she couldn’t have got there quick enough to save their parents. If only she’d been able to catch the criminal five minutes earlier.

Wives, bitter, because their husbands have been sent down for the heinous crimes they’ve committed. Wearing rose-tinted glasses, unable to see the monster hiding beneath the polished veneer.

Sometimes, she wondered why she bothered at all.

“She tried her best,” Van Pelt remarked, flying from her seat nearby. “There wasn’t anything more she could do.”

“Don’t worry, Van Pelt, Rigsby,” Lisbon murmured. “I can fight my own battles.”

Reluctantly and along with Cho, they withdrew, though stayed close enough to intervene if anything else happened. Placing a hand on his shoulder, which he quickly threw off, Lisbon indicated to the table where they both took a seat. The man continued to glare contemptuously at her as she tried to figure out the right way to deal with him.

“We’re very sorry for your loss, Mr. Anthony.”

“Yeah, well not sorry enough to save her life in the first place.”

“The CBI did all…”

“Are you just quoting from some CBI textbook, Agent Lisbon?” he growled.

“When I say we did all we could, I mean it,” she snapped, before lowering her tone. “The man responsible has been caught.”

“Well… good.”

[HearMeCalling]

***

“Whiskey, Lisbon? That’s rather unlike you.”

She swallowed the last drop, wincing as it burned the back of her throat before slamming the glass back down on the surface. Jack was always a good friend to the stressed and lonely, after all. Briefly, she looked contemplatively at the glass before turning to face the person who had just joined her, her glare hardened before quickly softening again. What was the point? He never learned and she had a shrinking suspicion that he never would.

“Why did you freeze, Jane?”

He made a non-committal noise before ordering two more whiskeys, simply assuming that she wanted another. They remained silent until they clinked glasses, the sound seeming strangely loud to the both of them considering they were in the busy bar.

“To… good deeds,” he murmured and she nodded in agreement before tossing the drink back.

They didn’t drink much more, but they didn’t part company for another couple of hours. Lisbon was still frustrated that she hadn’t received an answer to her question and Jane had wanted to tell her, really he did. But at the same time, he didn’t want to drag her into that whole mess. Yes, she dealt with death and destruction on a daily basis and had at the very least, a vague understanding of the emotional fallout which was an inevitability with violent crimes. However, off-loading on her would be one step too far, he felt. Like it was above and beyond the call of duty; one good deed he didn’t want her to do simply because he felt she didn’t deserve it.

He knew that she would be willing to, though. That was half the problem, really.

Even if he did ever tell her more, he doubted he’d ever appreciate it. Knowing him, he’d probably just throw it back in her face.

But, by doing this, he was punishing both of them, really. Wasn’t he?

If only he could trust himself.

If only…

My road of good intentions
Led where such roads always lead
No good deed
Goes unpunished!

end