![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oroburos69Title: Blue Sky
Summary: Cho is lost in an unreal land with Jane, for an amount of time neither long nor short. Jane has been there before. Cho can feel it.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~800
Warnings:None.
Disclaimer: I do not own there characters, and I do not profit from this work.
A/N: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
enmuse's prompt in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic community. The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, "She cast a spell on us." "I told you, there's no such thing as magic."
"She cast a spell on us," Cho states. He runs his hand through his hair, staring at the blue blue sky. The dead trees rustle in the gentle wind, their branches scraping against each other.
"I told you, there's no such thing as magic," Jane complains, and Cho can feel his irritation as clearly as if he felt it himself.
"Then why--"
"Hypnosis."
"Someone hypnotized both of us?" Cho asks, wondering if Jane can feel his disbelief the way he can feel Jane's budding uncertainty.
"I admire their skill." Jane turns away, and heads toward the trees, his shoes crunching loudly in the dead grass.
Cho looks up, and answers. "There is no sun, Jane." The sky stretches out in every direction, brilliant uninterrupted blue. Something flutters in his chest, and he thinks it might be Jane.
"Hypnosis," Jane repeats, staring at his fingers. A rush of negative emotion punches through Cho's chest, so muddled and indistinct that Cho can't give it a name.
Cho shakes his head and follows Jane. He doesn't know where they are, but Jane does. Cho can feel that, even through Jane's denial. "How do you know?"
"Because this place isn't real," Jane replies. He stops by a dead tree, and tears off a branch. Inside, the tree is made of newsprint, spiraled old papers gone yellow with age. "And I don't think I'm this crazy anymore."
Cho feels--"This isn't just in your head," he points out. "I'm here."
"Figment." Jane bites his lip and stares at the sky. "I want you to be here, so you are." The undercurrent of affection that accompanies that statement surprises Cho nearly as much as the statement itself. "Don't take it personally, Sub-Conscious, but I am aware of you, and of my own desires."
Cho hesitates before answering. "Really?"
"Really." Jane nods sharply, refusing to look at Cho. There are too many emotions for Cho to really count, and he's not sure he wants to, too busy untangling the top layer of what Jane is saying. "Now see if you can find the tree with a key inside it. The key unlocks a door in the sky."
"What happens when you open the door?"
"You wake up," Jane replies. Something dark rides under those words. Regret, maybe. Grief, certainly.
Cho tries feeling affection toward Jane. It seems to work for a second, Jane blinking and half-turning away from the newsprint tree, but then Jane shakes his head like a duck shedding water and claws open the blackened outer bark. "Where are we, Jane?"
"I don't know. I called it Oz." Jane rips deeper, toward the heart of the tree. "I've always been of the opinion that my sub-conscious is mostly useless, but you're taking it to great heights. Feel free to start helping at any time."
Despite his words, Jane is amused. His emotions bubble up inside Cho's chest, similar, yet distinctly different from his own. Cho shrugs and attacks the tree next to Jane. The weathered outer shell crumbles under his hands, bits of brittle paper sticking under his nails. Yellowed paper rips instead of crumbling, and under that, fresh white newspapers with headlines that hadn't happened yet.
"What kind of key is it?"
"It's a brass skeleton key. It's very shiny. Hard to miss." Jane abandons his tree for a new one. The old tree stands unaffected by it's torn out trunk, freed from the demands of gravity by the nature of this strange world.
In the heart of the fresh white papers with dates set years from now, Cho finds a smooth brass ring. A solid yank shows the rest of the key. "I found it," he tells Jane.
Jane pauses, surprise flowing across the air in between them. "Guess we'll be out sooner rather than later," he says. He looks up, and points to the centre of the sky. "Look up."
Cho looks, and sees a distant black speck that mars the perfect blue.
"That's the key hole." Jane strides toward him, kicking aside the scattered newspapers. Something--hope--wells up in Cho's chest, and he offers his arm to Jane. It takes a moment, hesitation, curiosity, and an odd sort of longing answering his unspoken question, but Jane reaches out, and latches on. "Hold your arm out toward the sky."
Cho obeys, and the gentle wind picks up, sending tiny cyclones of paper dancing between their legs. The sky begins to fall toward him, the centre bulging out to engulf the skeleton key. The wind tears through the trees, shredding the weathered surface papers, wrapping around them in a hurricane of dust and words. Cho twists the key--
--And wakes up. Jane's eyes open, inches away from his own. The door shudders and falls, Rigsby charging into the room, yelling for the witch to get away from them.
Cho blinks, blue sky stretching out behind his closed eyes and feels... and feels...
Jane.
Summary: Cho is lost in an unreal land with Jane, for an amount of time neither long nor short. Jane has been there before. Cho can feel it.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~800
Warnings:None.
Disclaimer: I do not own there characters, and I do not profit from this work.
A/N: This was written for
enmuse's prompt in the comment_fic community. The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, "She cast a spell on us." "I told you, there's no such thing as magic.""She cast a spell on us," Cho states. He runs his hand through his hair, staring at the blue blue sky. The dead trees rustle in the gentle wind, their branches scraping against each other.
"I told you, there's no such thing as magic," Jane complains, and Cho can feel his irritation as clearly as if he felt it himself.
"Then why--"
"Hypnosis."
"Someone hypnotized both of us?" Cho asks, wondering if Jane can feel his disbelief the way he can feel Jane's budding uncertainty.
"I admire their skill." Jane turns away, and heads toward the trees, his shoes crunching loudly in the dead grass.
Cho looks up, and answers. "There is no sun, Jane." The sky stretches out in every direction, brilliant uninterrupted blue. Something flutters in his chest, and he thinks it might be Jane.
"Hypnosis," Jane repeats, staring at his fingers. A rush of negative emotion punches through Cho's chest, so muddled and indistinct that Cho can't give it a name.
Cho shakes his head and follows Jane. He doesn't know where they are, but Jane does. Cho can feel that, even through Jane's denial. "How do you know?"
"Because this place isn't real," Jane replies. He stops by a dead tree, and tears off a branch. Inside, the tree is made of newsprint, spiraled old papers gone yellow with age. "And I don't think I'm this crazy anymore."
Cho feels--"This isn't just in your head," he points out. "I'm here."
"Figment." Jane bites his lip and stares at the sky. "I want you to be here, so you are." The undercurrent of affection that accompanies that statement surprises Cho nearly as much as the statement itself. "Don't take it personally, Sub-Conscious, but I am aware of you, and of my own desires."
Cho hesitates before answering. "Really?"
"Really." Jane nods sharply, refusing to look at Cho. There are too many emotions for Cho to really count, and he's not sure he wants to, too busy untangling the top layer of what Jane is saying. "Now see if you can find the tree with a key inside it. The key unlocks a door in the sky."
"What happens when you open the door?"
"You wake up," Jane replies. Something dark rides under those words. Regret, maybe. Grief, certainly.
Cho tries feeling affection toward Jane. It seems to work for a second, Jane blinking and half-turning away from the newsprint tree, but then Jane shakes his head like a duck shedding water and claws open the blackened outer bark. "Where are we, Jane?"
"I don't know. I called it Oz." Jane rips deeper, toward the heart of the tree. "I've always been of the opinion that my sub-conscious is mostly useless, but you're taking it to great heights. Feel free to start helping at any time."
Despite his words, Jane is amused. His emotions bubble up inside Cho's chest, similar, yet distinctly different from his own. Cho shrugs and attacks the tree next to Jane. The weathered outer shell crumbles under his hands, bits of brittle paper sticking under his nails. Yellowed paper rips instead of crumbling, and under that, fresh white newspapers with headlines that hadn't happened yet.
"What kind of key is it?"
"It's a brass skeleton key. It's very shiny. Hard to miss." Jane abandons his tree for a new one. The old tree stands unaffected by it's torn out trunk, freed from the demands of gravity by the nature of this strange world.
In the heart of the fresh white papers with dates set years from now, Cho finds a smooth brass ring. A solid yank shows the rest of the key. "I found it," he tells Jane.
Jane pauses, surprise flowing across the air in between them. "Guess we'll be out sooner rather than later," he says. He looks up, and points to the centre of the sky. "Look up."
Cho looks, and sees a distant black speck that mars the perfect blue.
"That's the key hole." Jane strides toward him, kicking aside the scattered newspapers. Something--hope--wells up in Cho's chest, and he offers his arm to Jane. It takes a moment, hesitation, curiosity, and an odd sort of longing answering his unspoken question, but Jane reaches out, and latches on. "Hold your arm out toward the sky."
Cho obeys, and the gentle wind picks up, sending tiny cyclones of paper dancing between their legs. The sky begins to fall toward him, the centre bulging out to engulf the skeleton key. The wind tears through the trees, shredding the weathered surface papers, wrapping around them in a hurricane of dust and words. Cho twists the key--
--And wakes up. Jane's eyes open, inches away from his own. The door shudders and falls, Rigsby charging into the room, yelling for the witch to get away from them.
Cho blinks, blue sky stretching out behind his closed eyes and feels... and feels...
Jane.
