I open the door and see Wes and Rebbeca standing there.
"Dee, what did I tell you about your monitor that close to the threshold?" Shawn asks from the kitchen and I'm guessing his phone beeped to let him know my monitor was close to the limit.
"I was just answering the door." I mutter and let Wes and Rebecca inside.
"Next time, tell me that someone's at the door-." Keating says but stops in her tracks when she sees who's there.
"You came back." Keating says to Rebecca.
Shawn leaves the kitchen to see what's going on and it's officially awkward when Rebecca and him make eye contact.
"Okay, well, I'm definitely not drunk enough for this, excuse me." I say as I make my way to the kitchen.
"Not the top shelf liquor!" Keating shouts at me.
I roll my eyes and mimic her order as I pour myself a glass of their most expensive looking drink. I take a sip and close my eyes as the liquid burns my throat, clearing my mind.
I head back into the living room where Rebecca is sitting with Wes. He seems extremely protective over her.
"How's the neck? I didn't nick you, did I?" I ask him with a small smirk and he gulps while Rebecca looks confused.
"What shelf did you get that from?" Keating asks me about the liquor.
"Don't worry, this was a knock off malt. They spelled Lilac wrong." I scoff and her eyes go wide.
"You mean the Macallan Lalique? My $10,000 bottle single malt?" She asks, fuming.
"Oops." I say after finished the last swig.
"I think I'll go to bed." I offer.
"Yeah, you do that." Shawn says as he takes my glass away and I can't help but smirk to myself as I walk up the stairs.
A few minutes later I hear Shawn walking up the stairs and he enters my room.
"Why do you like setting her off?" He asks as he crosses his arms.
"She fucking leashed me like a dog." I say as I show him the ankle bracelet.
"No, the police did." He counters.
"Who do you think recommended it?" I argue.
He shakes his head and leaves and I fall asleep a few minutes later.
————
I wake up to people talking downstairs and I realize the group is here and get ready then head down. Rebecca as telling her side of the story the night that Lila died.
"Shawn's waiting for you in his office." Keating whispers, looking at me.
"And then I strangled her and stuffed her in a water tank." Rebecca finishes and Keating stops talking to me and Rebecca laughs.
"You guys are so gullible." Rebecca mocks.
"Rebecca take this prep seriously or go to jail." Keating says.
"Isn't that like your job to make sure that doesn't happen?" Rebecca asks.
"On second thought, you wanna handle this?" Keating whispers to me.
"You sure you want me to do that?" I ask.
"She needs to understand how serious this is."
"Whatever you say." I huff and walk towards Rebecca.
"Stand up." I tell Rebecca and she scoffs.
"I was just joking." She shrugs.
Before she can say another word I grab her by the throat and force her on her feet. She looks at me shocked and the room is dead silent as Keating stops Wes from trying h to o protect Rebecca from me.
"When a prison guard tells you to do something, you don't make them ask twice. You don't do it, they'll make you comply, strip search and all. But that's not the worst part. No. You think because you've been to Juvie that you know what it's like on the inside? You have no idea." I start saying but Rebecca looks more annoyed than scared now.
"The guards are usually the least of your problems. The real danger is the other inmates. See, male prisoners have fistfights and shivving. Female's are a lot worse. They break you down by your mind. I don't care how tough you think you are, your a new victim in their eyes. Someone new to torment, set up, make you more paranoid than you can imagine. Soon you won't be able to trust your own shadow and will probably become violent." I start getting the message through to her.
"When that happens, then comes the real torture. You're put in isolation, at first, it seems like a walk in the park, a little nice even, getting time to yourself, collecting your thoughts. But after a few days, you start to lose track of time. No one to talk to, the only constant is the food that comes through the three inch slot and the sound of your own breathing. Some people start talking to themselves, other's start hallucinating or hearing voices. You can scream all you want, guards won't come to help you. To them your another bag of meat, waiting for the furnace once you finally snap and off yourself." I say dead serious, looking directly into her wide eyes.
The room is dead silent as a smirk creeps up on my face, ready to finish her off.
"That is if they don't stop you and put you into the psych ward of the prison. Now that, that's something straight out of hell. People are begging to die in their cells, some doing their best to succeed but getting stopped by emotionless guards. Some hits go down right crazy and try to flood their toilets, crap and vomit everywhere, the atranca stays with you for life, permanently stuck in your nose. You're then shoved into a room, naked, because they don't want you to hang yourself, even with your own panties, trust me, there's nothing you can think of taht somebody hasn't tried. You even try to chew off your own hand they'll wrap it up and sick you in a giant blue May to keep you immobilized. You'll see a shrink who's heard every single tale of tortured prisoners, but they won't help you. And you'll be left alone again, with your thought to keep you company." I finish and she gulps.
"So, now you see why you should cooperate, right?" I ask calmly, releasing her from my grasp.
"Shawn's waiting for you." Keating reminds me as I stare Rebecca down.
"He is, isn't he?" I ask with a smirk and leave.
Keating leaves with her little ducklings and I get to the office and close the door. I see Shawn sitting behind his desk, looking through some papers.
"You wanted to see me?" I ask calmly.
"Yeah, have a seat." He says so formal like.
"Okay." I say and sit down, not sure of what's twisting his balls today.
"Did Annalise tell you why we're meeting?" He asks and I shake my head.
"Figured that much. I'm here to give you a psych evaluation." He explains and I roll my eyes as I get up to leave.
"Sit back down." He orders calmly but in an assertive tone.
"Don't make me ask again." He warns and I lick my lips and turn back around.
"I don't do shrinks, not like this." I whisper the last part.
"That may have been true, but the police need to be able to rule you out as a suspect for the fire." He says and I roll my eyes.
"So it was arson." I figure out but he just stares at me.
"Dee, you could be in serious trouble here. I need you to cooperate." He says calmly.
"Fine, let's get this over with, shall we?" I ask and lean back in my seat.
"Would you consider yourself depressed or suicidal?" He asks and I roll my eyes.
"Is this because of the window thing?" I ask.
"It's one of the questions." He assures me and I huff.
"Every one gets sad sometimes." I shrug, not knowing what he wants me to say.
"Dee, I want you to be honest with me." He sighs.
"You mean, honest like, to prove that I'm innocent and incapable of setting a building on fire? Or honest like, the actual truth?" I ask him to clarify.
"Would they be different?" He asks and I scoff.
"What do you think?"
"I think you're innocent. But I also think you're scared of admitting the truth to anyone."
"What truth is that?"
"I don't know, something you hide, something you're ashamed of." He offers and I roll my eyes.
"Fine, I'll answer your dumb-ass questions. No I'm not depressed, and no I'm not suicidal." I state and he writes the notes down.
"What would you say you fear the most?" He asks and I quirk a brow.
"I'm not scared of anything." I shrug.
"Everyone is scared of something." He counters and I shrug.
"I'm not. I welcome everything as a new opportunity." I shrug.
"So, if you were to be arrested and sent to prison?"
"New environment filled with new possibilities." I answer.
"Is that so?" He asks, not believing me.
"Sure, new people to read, new dynamics, new everything."
"It sounds to me like you don't like being bored." He offers.
"That's not a fear, it's a preference." I counter.
"But, anytime you feel like something becomes stagnant and repetitive, you try to find something new, right?" He asks.
"Yeah, that's not a crime." I shrug.
"Do you ever think that maybe the reason why you don't like being bored is because you're forced to look at yourself instead of at other people?" He asks and I just stare at him.
"Wow, the good old 'what makes you afraid is what's inside of you' bullshit." I scoff.
"Is it though?" He counters.
"Let me get this straight, you think that I run away from myself because I'm scared of what I might find if I look at myself?" I scoff at the ridiculousness of it.
"It's a theory." He shrugs.
"A wrong one. I'm not scared of myself. I know who I am and what I'm capable of. I'm not hiding parts of myself away in a dark cavern in my soul. I know what I've done and I know what I can do. I'm not running or hiding from anything or anyone." I state,staring him in the eyes.
"What do you mean by the thing's you've done?" He inquires.
"Just because we fuck doesn't mean I'm gonna tell you everything about myself." I scoff.
"This isn't about that." He assures me.
"Then why are you asking?" I counter.
"Why are you avoiding?" He argues and I narrow my eyes.
"Because it's no one's business what I do in my free time."
"It is if it's criminal." He counters but I don't say a word.
"Alright, we'll move on for now." He sighs, not getting anything else out of me.
"How would you describe your relationship with your parents?" He asks.
"Nonexistent. Don't know who they are." I admit and he nods and writes it down.
"You grow up in foster care or-."
"Something like that."
"How was it?"
"Don't remember. Doctors called it, amnesia. Don't remember anything about my life until a few years ago." I say and he raises his brows.
"Really?" He asks impressed.
"Yeah, woke up in a hospital. Didn't know who I was. Thought it'd come back but it never did. So, I just picked a name and started a new life." I shrug.
"All by yourself?" He asks.
"Yup." I answer and he sees the cue to move on.
"How many sexual partners would you say you've had?" He asks and I quirk a brow.
"Nosy much?" I scoff and he chuckles.
"No, it is on the questionnaire." He assures me and shows it to me.
"Define partner. Like a one night stand, or serious relationships?" I ask.
"Serious relationships." He says and I think back.
"Like official? Not the on and off again shit?" I asks
"Sure, official." He nods.
"Like, one." I say and his eyebrows quirk up.
"And unofficial?" He asks and I huff
"Let's see." I say and start counting on my hands.
Sean, Hotch, Fitz, Dean, Gibbs, Jett, Elijah, Chris, Deucalion, Shawn, Gabriel...a few people at bars, a few more at random concerts. There was a period of time I didn't have sex at all. Then there was that whole black out era where I got wasted every night and slept with a new guy.
"Just estimate." He offers and I think again.
"Over thirty." I shrug and he nods.
"And how many of those were one night stands?" He asks and I think.
Hotch, no. Sean, no. Fitz. No. Gibbs, no. Most of them haven't been one night stands.
"I don't know, a couple." I answer.
"Okay, we'll finish up later. I think Annie is home." He sighs and I get up and leave.
I watch as the group enters the house and Rebecca is with them. I go plop on the couch and close my eyes for a few minutes.
"She wants to talk with you." Shawn tells me as he walks out of Keating's office.
"She's not in a good mood, don't push her. I mean it." He whispers as he passes me.
I get up and head into the office and see Keating at her desk. I lean against it and pick up a few sprawled out papers.
"Body exhumation." I read.
"That's not what you're here to talk about." She says and takes the paper from me.
"Okay. What do you want to talk about, then?" I ask.
"What you said to Rebecca." She says.
"You asked me to scare her straight, that's what I did." I shrug.
"I'm pretty sure Millstone was ready to piss his pants. How did you know all of that anyway?" She asks.
"I'm pretty sure I can answer every question of yours with one word. Google. It's amazing what you find if you know what to look for." I say and she huffs.
"Yes it is." She admits.
"That all?" I ask about the questions.
"How does my husband feel about this trial?" She asks.
"We didn't talk about the trial. We went over a questionnaire for the fire stuff."
"I thought you out of all people would be able to make a deal with questions." She counters.
"Fine, but I have to be careful about it. Can't be too obvious. He's not as dumb as you might think." I warn.
"What do you mean?"
"He's pretty good at reading people, reading into them, deeper than most psychiatrists. He knows what scabs to pick to get a reaction or an answer. Just have to be careful is all I'm saying." I explain and she nods.
"Okay. That'll be all." She says and sends me on my way.
————
Shawn motions for me to follow him and we head back to his study. I sit down and he just leans against the desk looking at me.
"We gonna finish this up?" I ask about the questionnaire.
"In a minute. I wanna ask you something else first." He says and I huff.
"Okay." I say and wait for him to come out with it.
"Why haven't you asked me about Lila again?" He questions.
"What do you mean?" I counter.
"You asked me about her a total of one time, and that was if I slept with her. You never brought it up again. Why?" He asks.
"Probably because it's none of my business." I shrug.
"No, it's very much your business. You're working her case." He counters.
"I just figured you got enough of that from your wife, didn't need to add onto it." I offer.
"Nope, that's not it." He says confidently and I furrow my brows.
"What are you talking about?"
"I have to be honest, I've been trying to figure you out for quite some time now. But I feel like the deeper I dig, the more unclear you become."
"That was very philosophical." I scoff.
"Like that. I admit to trying to understand the inner workings of your mind, and you make a joke. Most people would feel violated, angry, or even hurt. But you, you don't feel anything." He starts saying, clearly intrigued.
"Bet you're really questioning your own judgement now, huh?" I ask calmly but he shakes his head.
"Not at all. I'm just trying to figure out what your endgame here is."
"My endgame?" I ask.
"You can't be doing all of this for no reason. You need a goal of some sort, so, what is it?" He asks.
"You think I have ulterior motives?" I scoff.
"If you didn't, this wouldn't make sense. We wouldn't make sense."
"You think in order for me to sleep with you, I need a reason, a motive?" I ask.
"I mean, Lila, she was sad and lonely, wanted someone to listen. Annalise, she has her story, and my wife before that, has hers. But you don't fit." He says as he paces back and forth.
"I think you're looking into this too much." I scoff, but he shakes his head.
"No, I don't think I've been looking into it enough." He counters and I roll my eyes.
"If we're not gonna do the questionnaire-." I start saying as I get up, but he grabs me by the neck and pushes me against the wall.
I'm too stunned to say anything as he looks into my eyes as if he's willing the truth to come pouring out. We hold the gaze for a second and then he gulps and let's go, realizing what he's doing.
"You should probably go and catch up with the case." He says in a hushed tone and I nod and leave.