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penny00dreadful · 6 months

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Rookie Mistake

AO3

17th August 2023

Someone was following him home.

They were keeping their distance at least. But they'd been keeping their distance through the last three turns.

They could, at the very least, try not to make it obvious what they were doing.

Usually someone following him wouldn’t be a problem. Steve was an expert at what he did and losing a person who was tailing him was easy.

Or it used to be anyway.

His back had taken much longer to heal than any of them had expected and he’d been told his chances of walking again were fifty-fifty. Pretty much a coin toss.

But he’d started to get the feeling back in his legs again around the three month mark. While all of it still hadn’t returned and the doctors were unsure if it ever would, he could at least walk again.

He couldn’t move as fast nowadays, though the cane helped. But it didn’t help enough to escape from his followers' sight.

He was slow, he couldn’t run and he couldn’t stand for extended periods of time.

He could walk for even less. Which was probably why Claire at the gas station had kept shooting him concerned glances.

Walking to and from there was pretty much the extent of what he could do in a day.

Barely fifteen minutes there and back, but enough to have him exhausted and trying to keep the pain at bay.

Eddie was gonna lose his fucking mind once he found out. He worried too much. Steve still remembered the first words he heard when he woke up in the hospital.

“If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.” Spoken through teary eyes and with shaking hands as he reached for him, like if he didn’t touch him immediately Steve would drift back off into a coma.

This was the first time Steve had been home alone for an extended period of time since he'd been recovering. Eddie had looked at him with a stern pointed finger and an order not to do anything stupid.

So of course he had decided he was going to walk to the nearby gas station to pick up some of their favourite snacks.

They were gonna do a lazy streaming binge session later that evening, complete with a blanket fort like little kids, when Eddie got back from helping at the garage with Gareth.

What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t drive anymore. He didn’t have the strength in his legs for the pedals.

And the gas station was just outside the estate they’d chosen to settle in. Eddie had wanted to be closer to his Uncle Wayne and be able to see his friends again and Steve could never refuse him that.

Except now he was limping home, cane in one hand, paper bag of junk food in the other, with pain and exhaustion shooting up his legs, right into his weakened back.

He could barely even focus on the space around him, he was concentrating so hard on just putting one foot in front of the other and getting home without passing out from the pain, never mind fighting off an assailant.

In his heyday he wouldn’t even have had to think about how he would handle this situation.

Now, however. Now he felt so fucking helpless.

There was a gun concealed in a secret pocket just inside the front door. If he could just get to it, he might make it out of whatever this was.

Even though Steve was on medical leave and Eddie was… retired, old habits die hard. They’d never not be trained to be killers and expect something around every corner.

God, he’d been so stupid. This was so stupid. Eddie would never let him hear the end of it.

Steve would be lucky if he could keep upright once he hit the front door, everything was so painful.

But Steve was well versed in pain. Literally trained in it. Torture, interrogation, field medicine, pushing past injuries to get the job done. Steve had handled it all, always dreading the idea of being put behind a desk. Even now he was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

No offence to Robin and her job. He’d be dead ten times over without her but it just wasn’t something he could fathom doing.

There was a mentor position opening up though.

Dimitri was retiring to spend more time with his family which meant that Steve could possibly be looking after the new recruits in the near future.

Y’know.

If he didn’t fucking die here and now at the hands of some idiot lacking subtlety.

As far as anyone in the neighbourhood knew, Steve had moved to the area with his husband while recovering from a catastrophic fall, which wasn’t exactly incorrect.

The best lies were the ones that had truth in them.

And the neighbours had all been very… neighbourly. It was a little foreign to him. He was used to growing up in upper class neighbourhoods where he would maybe shoot a quick smile and a hello towards the couple across the road but apart from that, he pretended they didn’t exist and vice versa.

But here, though it was a solid middle class suburb, they all actually spoke to each other.

Bastien would usually chat while he was out walking his golden retriever named Bread.

Lucy and Anthony, a couple in their eighties, knew everything about everyone and gave them the best neighbourhood gossip.

Sandra loved hosting a cookout and invited them every single time.

Even the neighbourhood kids were all very sweet for a bunch of teenagers.

Best of all was their next door neighbour, Chrissy.

She had knocked on their front door with a freshly baked apple pie in one hand and an invite to her big blowout divorce celebration in the other. It was only the day after they’d moved in and Steve had hobbled downstairs to find her and Eddie chatting like they’d known each other forever.

Steve had originally worried they were only being included in these events as the token queers of the neighbourhood. Just so all these middle classers could pat themselves on the back for their diversity but those worries were quickly put to rest.

Their acceptance was quiet. It wasn’t braggadocious. It was sweet.

Chrissy's divorce party had been a wild night full of karaoke, an obscene amount of chinese food and glass upon glass of pink, glittery, fruity cocktails.

All things that Jason had hated.

Things Chrissy loved.

Things she hadn’t been able to enjoy in her own home in years. But now she was free to do whatever her heart desired.

Chrissy deserved way better than Jason anyway.

She had leaned into Eddie’s side and taken Steve’s hand in hers and slurred that she wanted “what you guys have. You’re so sweet to each other. How long have you been together?”

They had made eye contact over her head with raised eyebrows.

The start of their relationship was always a bit of a blurred line.

“Seven, eight years maybe?” Eddie had said, holding her steady with an arm around her waist.

“Really?” She’d asked, blinking her big eyes up at the two of them. “That’s such a long time. Jason and I got married after a year. Don’t do that.” She added, pointing back and forth at the two of them. “It’s a bad idea.”

Steve patted the hand that was held in his. “We won’t. Don’t worry.”

Especially considering they’d already been married two years by then.

As the night wore on and more and more stories had come out about what Chrissy’s marriage had been like, Eddie had offered, with three cocktail umbrellas in his hair and a Pink Lady in his hand, to hunt Jason down and make him disappear.

Chrissy had giggled with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh sure, you big softie.” She said as she lightly swatted his arm. “If he starts calling around unannounced again, then go ahead."

Eddie had smiled, sweet and innocent, but his eyes had been sharp and hard and Jason needed to watch his fucking back.

Steve had been able to convince him to at least give Jason a warning the first time, before he completely wiped the guy from existence.

But only one warning was all Eddie would concede to with a pout and a mutter of ‘You’re no fun’.

If Jason couldn’t take a hint and kept coming around after that, it wasn't Steve's problem anymore.

In general their time in the neighbourhood was nice. It was domestic. The area was safe and sleepy and naive to most of the wrongs of the world.

It was something Steve and Eddie had never had the chance to have, especially considering the start of their relationship had been so… combative.

Which is what made the guy trailing behind him stick out like a penguin in the desert.

He was unfamiliar.

In an ill fitting black suit that looked like something out of a bad spy movie and greasy slicked back hair.

Steve wasn’t scared of him.

He was clearly inexperienced.

Or just stupid.

The guy kept his gaze locked on his target, one hand constantly in his pocket and a look of grim determination on his face.

Obvious.

But he also seemed to be growing in confidence too. Getting slowly closer and closer.

Steve kept his pace slow and relaxed, trying his best to hide the pain and exhaustion he was feeling sinking into his back and down his legs.

And trying to hide the fact that he knew a fucking idiot was tailing him.

If some fucking newbie gang member or whatever was able to take him down because Steve couldn’t help but push himself, he was going to be so pissed off.

All he needed to do was get inside.

Unlock the door, get inside and he’d be able to grab one of their concealed weapons and take care of whatever this was.

Easy peasy.

Or it would have been easy peasy if not for the second guy.

The second guy who’d descended on him just as he pushed his front door open, looping an arm around his neck.

He dropped his bag and his cane, scrabbling against the hold and just barely brushing the hidden gun compartment with his fingers before he felt it.

The sharp sting of a needle in his neck and the cold of whatever it was spreading through his veins.

The last thought that ran through his head before everything went black was that Eddie was going to be so dramatic about this.

He didn’t know how long it was before he woke up but he could take a guess.

It was an empty warehouse he was being kept in, if the bare concrete walls, metal roof and high ceilings were anything to go by.

The windows were right at the top, only letting the barest sliver of orange daylight through.

The sun was low enough Steve guessed he’d only been out for an hour.

The whole place smelled of damp and was shrouded in shadow, the only light being that bit of orange sun and one bare light bulb hanging over his head.

Brimborn Steelworks, he thought.

He could smell the sea air, hear gulls outside, and the warehouse had been abandoned for as long as they’d been in the area so it was a pretty safe bet.

Just outside the circle of light he was washed in, he could hear muttering and bodies shuffling around.

About four by his estimation, along with the sound of metal parts shifting against each other.

Guns.

Fantastic.

Just what he fucking needed.

His hands were knotted behind his back, not even tied to the chair he was sitting on. Who used rope to tie people up anymore?

Aside from certain… intimate circumstances, Steve hadn’t had to deal with rope in ages.

Not since… well.

It was usually zip ties or duct tape that were used.

Much quicker, much easier to conceal in pockets or pouches.

And judging by how he was tied, fingers pointed downwards, inner wrist to inner wrist and just a bit too tightly, these guys had absolutely no experience with ropes.

Kinky or not.

They hadn’t even bothered to blindfold him.

Or gag him.

Eddie would have never been so sloppy. He could’ve done better than this to Steve with his eyes closed and on a Tuesday afternoon.

If he was at full strength, he’d have been able to manoeuvre the weak bindings of his ropes until he was able to tug them free and kick the shit out of the closest guy until he got his hands on his gun.

Then he’d be out of here and on his way home before Eddie had the time to properly spiral.

But he wasn’t at full strength, he could barely even pull against the binds around his wrists, tugged at an uncomfortable angle behind his back.

Not a gentle angle and not at the proper straining points he was used to.

The rope was rough and harsh against his skin instead of the delicious soft bite of the silken binds.

But it was fine.

He wouldn’t be here long.

“He’s awake.” A voice in front of him said.

The accent was mostly American but with the slightest tinge of Russian underneath.

Great.

Two men in ill fitting black suits with their guns held loosely at their sides stepped into the light. The other two stayed behind him, probably as some kind of security or intimidation measure.

Well, it was nice to see them try.

Cute almost.

“Hello.” Steve sighed. “Can you guys tell me what this is all about so we can get it over with, please?”

“Oh,” the one in front of him sneered, “he thinks he’s funny.”

“I think I’m very funny, yes.” Steve nodded, relaxing into the chair as much as he could.

The guy scowled. Clearly he hadn’t learned that sometimes having fun on the job was necessary. Helped alleviate stress. “You’re gonna answer our questions.”

“Sure thing, Drago.” Steve nodded. The guy really did look like Drago. Big meaty head and short crop of blonde hair. “Hit me.”

Drago smirked. “If you insist.”

With an almighty crack he brought the back of his hand down across Steve’s face, snapping his head to the side.

He could feel the blood welling up in his mouth where his teeth had cut into his cheek and the heat from the strike blooming over his skin that would no doubt turn purple within the next day.

God, never start an interrogation with violence.

Fucking casuals.

Steve sucked at the blood pooling in his mouth and spat it at Drago’s feet.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Drago scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops.” Steve grinned with blood stained teeth and a nonchalant shrug. “Scoops Ahoy. That little ice cream shop at the mall?”

“Cute.” He sneered.

“Thank you.”

“Maybe you need more persuasion.” A voice came from behind him and a sharp blade was pressed against his neck. “How would you feel if I were to cut your pretty throat?”

Steve ran his tongue over his bloody teeth.

“Do it.”

There was a stutter of movement as the four of them glanced at each other.

“You think we won’t?”

“No, go on, do it.” Steve pressed his neck against the blade which was immediately pulled away. “You think you can get more answers out of my dead body?”

The guy with the blade swung himself around to face him, digging the point into his cheek this time with a snarl.

Steve couldn’t even be bothered to give him a name in his head.

He’d be Knife Guy.

Didn’t matter.

He’d be dead soon.

“Or,” Steve continued, “do you think that I’m going to cower to any more of your threats now that you’ve just shown me you’re not willing to kill me?” He laughed. “Never start with your last resort.”

The tip of the blade was dug in deeper and dragged across his cheek, cutting into his skin but Steve could barely feel it as he distantly heard the sound of tires screeching to a stop outside.

No one else seemed to have noticed.

“We don’t need to kill you, we just need to make you talk.”

“Well,” Steve sighed, grimacing at the hot sticky blood running down his cheek. If he was lucky it wouldn’t scar.

If they were lucky it wouldn’t scar.

“I suggest you hurry up, you’re running out of time.”

The four of them laughed. “You think your buddies are coming for you? We targeted you because you were alone and impeded. You had no safety net around you.”

“You sure about that?” Steve took in each of their faces, all looking so confident in a job well done. “You’re right, my buddies aren’t coming for me. If they were, you could take your time. But as it is you’ll all be dead in about,” he tilted his head, listening for the first distant gunshot, which sounded only half a second later, “three minutes so…”

“If not your buddies then who?”

“You guys seem a little new at this.” He said gently, like he was speaking to children. “Have you ever heard of The Shadow of Hawkins?”

Their blank faces told him all he needed to know.

Fair enough.

It was a fairly obscure name after all.

And a bit ridiculous.

“How about The Demon of Dresden?” He glanced around. “No? The Bloodyhanded? Ringing any bells?”

Steve blinked at them all in bewilderment.

Did these guys know anything?

The gunfire outside was getting louder and closer to their building and the guys around him seem to have finally clued in, clutching their guns tighter.

Like that would do anything for them.

Steve refused to give them a moment of reprieve.

“Really guys? He’s gonna be so offended.” He shook his head, as though disappointed. “Well, maybe you’ll know him by his most famous title.” The last gunshot cracked through the air leaving a terrible silence in its wake. “Kas. The Betrayer.”

Every one of them flinched at the name, the colour draining from their faces as a door slammed open in another part of the building.

“He's trying to scare us.” Knife Guy swallowed. “Kas is dead.”

“He was." Steve nodded. "But you had to go and resurrect him. But here’s another one for you.” He grinned again, blood coating his teeth and leaned as far forward as his bindings would allow him, despite the strain on his back. “Who do you think I am?”

“Why does it matter?" The third guy spat, but Drago had a horrible realisation dawning on his face.

"You…"

“Who?” The fourth asked, whipping his head back and forth to look at the two of them. “Who is he?”

“He… you…” Drago shook his head, his full accent apparent now. “You can’t be!”

“Who gave us our intel?!” Knife Guy shouted at the others, also cottoning on.

“You…” Drago swallowed. “You’re his-”

“Sweetheart!” Eddie’s voice echoed around the warehouse seeming to come from all directions and none all at once.

Knife Guy was by his side in a flash with a fist in his hair and the blade pressed against his throat again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve said, glancing up. “He’s very protective of my hair.”

His fist only tightened.

“Fine,” Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Hey fuckos!” Eddie was still shrouded in darkness, completely hidden from view. “Tying him to chairs is my job!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, for god's sake.”

Drago stepped in front of Steve, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, pointing his gun towards the various dark corners. “If you want your-”

Four loud gunshots rang out, echoing throughout the room.

Steve felt the warm splatter of blood across his face.

Four bodies fell to the floor, a clean bullet wound through three of their foreheads.

Knife Guy, the one who had his hand in Steve’s hair was screaming in agony, clutching his blown apart knee.

“An hour, sweetheart.” Eddie’s figure stormed out of the dark, coming to a stop just in front of him. He still had grease from the garage streaked over his cheek and embedded into the creases on his hands to go along with the copious amount of other people’s blood spattered all over his body. “I leave you alone for one hour and I have to answer a call from a worried Chrissy checking to see if everything's okay because our front door is wide fucking open. How did you go and get yourself kidnapped by Ruskies?”

"Oh, I'm sorry, please continue to tell me how getting fucking ambushed outside our home is my fault."

"It didn’t start outside our home, did it?"

Knife Guy wailed again and Eddie looked down on him with a cold glare.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, not sorry at all. “I must have missed.”

With a simple squeeze of the trigger he put a hole through Knife Guys head and the screaming stopped.

Steve expected Eddie to walk behind him to cut his binds but instead he just swung his leg out and sat himself down on Steve's lap.

"It started at that fucking gas station because you can't sit down for five minutes straight." Eddie pulled a small pocket sized first aid kit out and tilted Steve's head to the side. "Even if fucking Hippocrates or god damned Florence Nightingale rose from the dead and told you to take it easy, you'd still be ignoring their orders." He scoffed as he roughly pressed a butterfly bandage over Steve's cheek. "And you call me the hyperactive one." He mumbled.

Steve winced, glaring at him as Eddie pressed down particularly hard on one strip.

His mouth was still pulled into a deep frown but he stroked his fingers gently over Steve’s cheek, caressing his face with the gentlest of touches.

"You okay?"

Steve couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Yeah baby, I'm good. But they got the angle of my arms all wrong. It's really uncomfortable."

"Hmm. Well as an expert in tying you down to chairs, I'd have to agree. How dare they steal my thing. I fell in love with you when you were tied to a chair."

Steve raised an eyebrow, complete disbelief written on his face.

“Oh yeah?” He tried to bring their faces closer but he was impeded by his bindings. Eddie just gave him a feral grin. “Which time?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tell me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed. “No.”

“Asshole.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Would you mind?" He tugged at the ropes again. "My back is fucking killing me."

"Of course." Eddie muttered into Steve's mouth but never properly closing the distance while simultaneously lifting his weight up. “All you had to do was ask.”

With the bindings now gone, his shoulders and arms felt like fucking lead and the blood rushing back into his hands was causing terrible pins and needles.

Eddie was digging his fingers into Steve's muscles, trying to alleviate as much of the strain as he could.

Steve closed his eyes and groaned, his earlier ill-advised trip was catching up with him again and he was dreading having to walk out of this place.

He just wanted to be at fucking home, in his fucking bed with his fucking husband.

Or maybe they could still do that naked blanket fort in the living room with a movie marathon and an obscene amount of snacks.

When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was on one knee with his back to him.

“Hop on.”

Steve grumbled but couldn’t find it in himself to argue, sliding himself forward, slinging his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and allowing himself to be carried off.

Eddie was strong and steady under him, barely flinching as he grabbed tight to Steve’s thighs and stood.

Their walk back was quiet and Steve wasn’t looking forward to the amount of paperwork that would have to be filed as a result of this but he hoped since he was still on medical leave he could get out of it.

The sun was starting to set outside, the sky splashed with brilliant shades of reds and oranges and pinks. Now that he was outside he saw he was correct about where he was being held.

Brimborn Steel Works.

Still got it.

When he turned his head back around to face forward he saw that Eddie had driven Steve's beloved bimmer here.

The driver's side door was flung open and the car was at an odd angle, the direction and darkness of the tire marks behind telling Steve that Eddie had practically drifted into the lot at speed.

There were a few bullet holes in the doors and the passenger window was shattered but it wasn’t the worst that car had ever seen.

Bodies littered the ground around them, all in the same out of date suits Steve’s four goons had been wearing, all with the same guns, all with the same kind of build and all with slowly coagulating pools of blood and brains around them.

Damn.

Eddie really didn’t hold back this time.

Steve looked back at his car.

He couldn’t drive her anymore.

Probably never would be able to again.

They’d talked about trading it in for a model with push-pull controls for his hands instead of floor pedals so he could have that freedom back.

But they hadn’t gotten to it yet.

Eddie had taken his motorcycle to the garage, he would have arrived home with it. Probably seen the front door wide open and a grocery bag on the ground like Chrissy said.

It would have been quicker to get here on the motorcycle.

But Steve couldn’t ride on it.

Not as a driver or passenger.

At least not yet, not until he was further healed.

So Eddie had come here with the car, either because of hope, stubbornness or pure confidence, knowing he would get Steve back.

Steve smiled to himself, tightening his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck, peppering little kisses on any skin he could reach.

“You okay back there?”

He could hear the grin in his voice as Eddie lowered him down into the passenger seat, turning on his knees to rest his forearms across Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled down at him. “Just… thanks for finding me.”

Eddie straightened up to his full kneeling height, taking Steve's face in his hands.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He leaned up, pressing the softest of soft kisses against Steve’s lips, full of love, adoration, dedication.

Steve could feel it pouring out of him and into his own body.

The gentlest intimacy from a man who could cause so much violence.

Eddie brushed their noses together. “I’ll always come find you.”

“You always say that.”

Eddie hummed. “Because I always will.”

AO3

A prequel fic set in this universe will be dropping next week 👀

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #spies au #spy steve #“retired” eddie #rookie mistake #tw guns #tw murder #tw kidnapping #rookie mistake fic

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chasingmidnights · 1 year

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Tiger, Tiger

Title: Tiger, Tiger

Summary: Red John has captured you and he’s given Patrick 24 hours to find you.

Warnings: Patrick Jane (I feel like he deserves his own warning label); angst, angst, angst; mentions of being assaulted/battered; mentions of blood; brief character death; C.P.R.; mentions of guns/weapons; with a tiny bit of fluff at the end. I believe I’ve listed all of the warnings and I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read. If any of the listed warnings make you uncomfortable please do not read.

A/N: This is my story for the week one writing challenge, I Spy, for the @the-slumberparty event. I used a generator to come up with my theme and setting. The theme I got was ‘serial killer’ and the setting I got was ‘modern day’. So naturally, the Mentalist, ‘Red John’ serial killer popped into my head and I loved how this turned out! I hope you enjoy it!

Wordcount: 2,893

Patrick Jane had just finished making his fresh cup of tea and as he lifted the cup to his mouth, he took a deep breath in. He loved starting the work day off with a cup of tea, it helped him relax. As he took a couple of drinks from his cup he watched the other agents as they rushed by the small kitchen. They were always in such a hurry. He stole another minute to himself before he glanced down at his watch and a smile started to work its way onto his lips. You should be here any minute. He took another drink from his cup before he turned around to grab another cup for you. You loved tea just as much as he did, which was just one of the many things he liked about you. While he prepared your cup, he thought back to the day that he met you.

He had just walked into the small kitchen to fix himself some tea when he spotted you. You were using his favorite cup and before he could say anything, you were walking past him. He shook his head and snapped out of his thoughts before he called out to you.

“Excuse me, that’s my cup.”

You paused and turned around to face the person who had just spoken. “‘Scuse me?”

Patrick couldn’t lie, you were quite beautiful and he could easily get lost in your eyes. He took a couple of steps towards you, he pointed at you as he did. “That’s my cup.”

You took a drink from the cup before you examined it. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t see your name on it.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes at you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Who are you anyway?”

You smirked at his question before you took a sip of tea and walked away, putting a little bounce in your step as you did. Patrick was in awe and all he could do was watch.

“Patrick!”

Patrick was brought out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called and groaned. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was Theresa who was calling for him, he would probably just ignore the person. He rubbed the back of his neck before he set down the cup he had gotten out for you. When he got to the bullpen workplace, he noticed how his coworkers stopped what they were doing and turned to face him. The once light and airy atmosphere that was just there a minute ago turned into a more constricted one. Something was going on, he could tell. He was about to ask his team members what was going on until he noticed it. How he had missed it was beyond him because he swore when he walked in just a bit ago it wasn’t there. He was frozen in his spot at the sight of the funeral bouquet sitting there on an easel. It sat there taunting him as if he should know better than to love again. “No, it couldn’t be,” Patrick thought to himself. He approached the display with caution as if it would out and attack him. When he reached the display, he took in a sharp breath at the words that were written on the sash, ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. Patrick could feel his whole body go numb and he knew exactly what this meant. Red John had gotten to you.

“Jane?” Theresa inquired as she gently placed her hand on his upper arm and paused, waiting for him to reply. She glanced over her shoulder to her other coworkers, concern written all over her face before she returned her attention back to Patrick. “Jane?”

At the second ‘Jane’, he finally turned his attention towards the others and demanded a question. “When did this get here?”

Grace, Kimball, and Wayne all shook their heads in response, not sure when the flowers were delivered. Before anyone could answer Patrick’s question, his phone started to ring. He pulled out his phone from his pant’s pocket and answered it instantly.

“Hello?” Patrick did his best to remain calm.

“Hello Patrick, did you miss me?” A high-pitched, male’s voice came through the receiver.

Patrick’s blood ran cold, it was just as he had thought: His worst nightmare had come to life.

“Where is she?” Patrick informed, his voice firm and doing his best to keep it even.

“She is rather pretty, isn’t she? I can tell you have a type.” Red John commented, completely ignoring Patrick’s question.

Patrick aimlessly took a few steps forward as he heard you whimper in the background. “If you do anything to her at all, I will find you and I will kill you.”

Red John chuckled at Patrick’s threat and even though he knew Patrick couldn’t see it, he smirked. “You have twenty-four hours to find her. Good luck.”

With that, Red John hung up the phone and a curse slipped from Grace’s mouth. She had quickly moved from her spot next to Wayne and over to her desk when the phone call was answered. She had typed furiously to try and trace where the phone call was coming from. “Damn it! I almost had it!”

Theresa and Patrick went over to Grace’s desk to see what she was talking about. A grid map was pulled up onto her computer screen and there were mapped out cell phone towers. She let out a frustrated sigh before she spoke up again.

“Sorry, I almost had him. I was only able to narrow it down to a certain area but it’s rather big.” Grace explained as she made a few clicks with her computer mouse and zoomed in on the area she was talking about.

“Good work, Van Pelt.” Theresa reassured her colleague. Theresa then took a deep breath before she walked to the center of the bullpen. She tucked her thumbs into her front belt loops before she started talking and giving orders. “Alright, everyone, we have a fellow agent in danger. Whatever you’re working on, I want you to bury it until further notice. We need all hands on decks. Let’s get a move on people, we have twenty-four hours!” Theresa then looked back at Patrick who gave her an appreciative nod. “We’re going to find her Jane.” Theresa did her best to be confident with her reassurance. This was Red John after all.

“I need some air.” Patrick excused himself and he was out of the building before anyone could stop him.

Kimball and Wayne exchanged looks, worry was etched onto their features. They knew what you meant to not just Patrick but Theresa as well. When you first started, Theresa had introduced you as her best friend and with a proud smile on her face. They quickly changed their demeanor as they nodded at one another and started to get busy trying to find you. They didn’t want to get told twice.

You grunted as you pulled against the leather cuffs that had you strapped to an uncomfortable wooden chair. It took a minute for your vision to become clear, you don’t remember passing out. Although, with all of the torture that you’ve endured within the past several hours, it was bound to have happened. You tried to get a good look at your surroundings again but it was nearly impossible. The only light source that the room provided was a singular, hanging overhead light. It was probably on purpose though, your captor didn’t want to be seen or to know where you were. You could feel goosebumps start to rise over your skin as you heard footsteps coming towards you. Your breath hitched when your kidnapper was finally in front of you. From what you could tell, he was wearing a mask and a hideous one at that.

“Good, I’m glad you’re awake. For a moment there I thought I had lost you. I can tell you’re a strong one though. A fighter.” Red John said, his high-pitched voice sent a cold chill through your body.

You balled up your hands and flexed them as you gritted your teeth. You needed to pick and choose your battles. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Red John stopped his pacing before he began to click his tongue. “You see, I know a lot more about you than you yourself know. But we don’t have time for that.” He paused and looked down at his watch before his shrill voice continued to pierce your ears. “After all, I only have a limited time with you and I want to have more fun.”

You tried not to wince when his gloved finger caressed the side of your face and you did your best to try and pull away. He chuckled at your attempt as his finger continued to trail down the column of your neck. Your eyes began to fill with water as Red John picked up the necklace around your neck. It felt like an eternity as Red John stood there and examined the quaint diamond necklace. Patrick had given it to you as an anniversary present. It was simple really, a single diamond on a white gold chain but you cherished it and wore it every day. A gasp escaped from you when Red John tore the necklace from your neck and pocketed it. Just as you thought he was about to walk away and leave your battered body, he turned back around and a harsh smack met your cheek.

“Boss, I’ve got something!” Grace called out, she was sure that she found your location. Not just sure but she would stake her job on it.

Just as Theresa and Patrick rushed over to Grace’s desk, Kimball and Wayne were walking back into the office. They had gone to your apartment to see if they could find anything out of place. When Patrick noticed them, he looked at them with a small bit of hope. But when they shook their heads no, Patrick returned his attention back to Grace. Kimball and Wayne immediately joined them to see what was going on.

“Alright, so I was able to do a little more digging based off of the incomplete trace from earlier. You see this satellite point,” Grace pointed to a small dot on the screen before she continued. “It was one of the ones that was blinking earlier. I checked that area and it’s nothing but woods and cabins up there. So, I ran the names of people who owned them and there’s one that stands out. A fellow by the name of Dr. Roy.”

“That’s it, it’s gotta be. Great job Grace!” Patrick confirmed before he went over to grab his jacket.

“Alright, let's move it people! Cho, I want you to call for a S.W.A.T. team and meet us there, also let them know there’s a hostage! Van Pelt, forward that address to the S.W.A.T. team and to me. Jane, you’re with me. Rigsby, I want you to call Sac. P.D. and let them know that we have a hostage situation on our hands. Let them both know that the suspect is considered armed and dangerous.” Theresa barked out orders as she double checked her gun and she received multiple ‘yes boss’s’ from her team.

When they finally got to the cabin, the teams approached with caution and they had their weapons ready. Theresa motioned for one of the teams to go around back and they did as they were told. They moved swiftly and quietly to the back of the cabin. The team in front breached the door within a matter of minutes and they immediately crossed the threshold to begin their search for you. Once they cleared the house with no sign of you, Patrick went outside to catch his breath and think. He placed his hands on his hips and just as he turned around, he noticed something in the distance.

“Theresa! I think I’ve found something!” Patrick called out to his colleague. He motioned for her to come over to him when he noticed her coming out of the cabin.

“What is it Jane?” She asked as she arched an eyebrow at him.

Patrick pulled her over to the side a few inches and he pointed to a spot in between two trees. “What do you see Lisbon?”

Theresa squinted her eyes through the narrow tree line. “Is that a barn?”

“I believe it is and I bet that’s where he’s keeping her.” Patrick confirmed and just before he could take off towards the barn, Theresa grabbed ahold of him.

“Hey, we’re doing this the right way and we’re gonna be smart about this.” Theresa ordered, her face as serious as her tone.

Patrick looked taken aback before he became just as serious as his partner. “How can you just stand there and say that?! I thought you cared about her?!”

Now it was Theresa’s turn to be the one taken aback. “That is my best friend in there and I’m worried sick about her! So, don’t for one second think that I don’t care. But this is Red John we’re talking about so we have to be smart.”

Patrick took a deep breath before he exhaled. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Just then Kimball had walked up to them with his bolt-action rifle in hand. “Cabin’s empty boss. What’s our next move?”

“Alright, get the S.W.A.T. team ready, we have another building to look through.” Theresa commanded and without saying another word, Cho walked away.

The S.W.A.T. and Sac. P.D. teams were ready to go and were waiting for command within minutes. Just as before, there was one team that waited at the back of the barn while one remained at the front. One of the S.W.A.T. team members stood across from Theresa and Patrick as he listened for any sign of movement. Once he was satisfied, he gave Theresa a short nod who wasted no time in signaling to him the okay. A loud bang filled the intense silence as the battering ram met the wooden door, causing the door to splinter. Theresa led the team inside with her gun and flashlight aimed as she called out a ‘clear’ after every turn.

When they reached the center of the large barn, Theresa scanned the room before her light landed on you. A horrified gasp escaped her as she saw the state of your battered body. Your head was hung low and you were still strapped to the chair. You were still, too still for Theresa’s liking. She took a few steps towards you but before she could get to you, Patrick had forced his way into the barn. When he caught the sight of you, he froze in his spot. Theresa tried to keep Patrick back but wasn’t able to. He easily pulled out of her grasp and rushed over to you with Theresa hot on his heels. The pair of them quickly began to remove the leather cuffs that kept you restrained. Once they had you freed from the restraints, Patrick carefully moved you from the chair and to the ground. He immediately checked for a pulse and when he couldn’t find one, he started C.P.R. right away.

After a few minutes, Patrick leaned back onto his heels as he sat on his knees. He gulped in deep deep breaths as he waited for what seemed like an eternity. The air was thick around him and he barely felt Theresa place her hand on his shoulder. Tears began to well up in his eye but before one could escape, you jolted forward and started to gasp for air. Patrick quickly scooped you up into his arms and held onto you tightly.

“Patty, I need to breathe.” You struggled to say in between deep breaths.

Patrick let out a weak chuckle before he loosened up his grip on you. “Sorry sweetheart, you had me so worried.”

You tried to laugh but ended up coughing instead. You took a deep breath before you continued. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Patty.”

Patrick smirked in response. “Oh, I know, you’re too stubborn. Theresa on the other hand was about to give up on you.”

You did your best not to laugh as Theresa smacked Jane on the shoulder. “I was not. I’m gonna go see if the ambulance is here.” Theresa gave you a small smile before she got up and left.

Patrick then cupped your cheek and gently started to caress the bloodied skin. He leaned down and gave you a meaningful kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and relished at the feeling. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to experience this again. When you opened your eyes, you took in Patrick’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. When you pulled apart, you paused to catch your breath and a weak smile curled up on your face.

“I love you Patrick.” You said in between each breath.

Patrick’s face brightened up and he grinned from ear to ear. “Hey, I wanted to say that first.”

He then leaned down and kissed you again before the paramedics came to wheel you away.

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