A/N: The end is near, my dears! This will be the final chapter, but there will be a short epilogue posted very soon. If I get too eager it may not even be a week long wait. Thanks to everyone who's read, followed the story, and/or favorited it. You all keep me motivated to write more. On a somewhat different note, I've been obsessed with Criminal Minds lately and it's actually helped inspire me to finish up this last chapter and the epilogue. Anyways enjoy!
"We found him parked at a motel in the next town over. The manager saw the parked car for two nights, realized it wasn't registered as a customer's, and called the local police. It was a lucky catch."
Rachel and her fathers were sitting in the Lima Police Station, talking to Detective Carter, who had called them and told them the good news: Aaron had been found and arrested.
"Where do we go from here?" Hiram asked eagerly, wanting to get past this.
"Well if you considered whether or not you wanted to press charges it's the time to do that. I have to warn you, however, that Aaron was subjected to a casual psychological analysis by request of his mother when he first was arrested, and those results strongly suggest signs of mental illness. As I mentioned before, that may hinder any attempts to have him sent to a federal prison or juvenile detention center."
"We have decided to not press charges so long as he is committed for an indefinite amount of time," Rachel announced from beside her fathers. Both of them turned their heads towards her, surprised by her declaration.
"No!"
"Rachel, we need to discuss this more."
Rachel glared at her fathers and then turned back to the detective politely.
"I refuse to testify," she said simply. Her fathers looked dumbfounded, and Rachel had a feeling that she was in for a long lecture when they got home.
"Yes you will!" Hiram said authoritatively, refusing to agree with Rachel on her decision.
"I will not," she pressed, making it very clear that her decision was final.
"This is as insane! Now you're acting as crazy as this Aaron kid, Rachel," Hiram argued, his voice rising in frustration.
"Hiram, you need to calm down. This is up to Rachel," LeRoy tried to calm down his partner.
"You cannot agree with her, LeRoy! What he did to her was inexcusable and he needs to be punished! This needs to be put on his criminal record, not sealed in medical file." Hiram looked at his husband incredulously.
"And he will be punished as well as trelated when he is committed. Daddy, he's sick," Rachel interjected smartly.
"No, he's disturbed and needs to be kept away from the public," he said resolutely.
"Rachel, if you refused to testify then I will have to draw up a Disciplinary Settlement Agreement that both parties must sign. That is a contract that outlines the terms of both parties and, should either party break the agreement, it will lead to repercussions for contract breach." The detective looked at the family seriously.
"I can let you discuss it further, but I would recommend that you decide sooner rather than later. We can only keep him in county jail for about five days, otherwise he will be let out with restrictions until there is a set date to see a judge. If it is any consolation, Miss Dolan seems ready, if not eager, to write up an agreement and having her son placed into an institution. It is a rare thing that a mother is so compliant, but I do believe that she was just as frightened by her son's actions as you were Rachel – although on different levels and for different reasons, of course."
"We'll take a few days to decided and call you," Hiram said quickly and looked over at Rachel seriously. She rolled her eyes and ignored the whole fatherly-protection thing he had going. It wasn't often that either of her fathers got mad or annoyed with her, but when they did it was not a fun time in the Berry household.
The family left about twenty minutes later after going over further details, and was home within the hour.
"I don't understand why you are so reluctant to testify, Rachel. Don't you see that testifying would give this boy the opportunity to not only recover from his illness, but also face legal repercussions for what he's done? I am disappointed in your decision." Not disappointed in her, but in 'her decision.' It was so like her father – to spin words to sound neutral but biting at the same time.
"Why? I would much rather see him regain his mental health in a psychiatric facility than be locked up and probably abused by violent men in prison. You weren't there, dad, he was… delusional. He was insane, but it wasn't a violent criminal... more so, he was sad and confused. I'm not saying that he isn't dangerous, but I honestly believe he could get better after some time and medication. He went through a lot over the past few months and, from what I learned about him by asking around school, talking to him, and asking his mother he seemed perfectly normal before his father died."
"So it was his mother that planted these crazy ideas into your head!? We never should have let you talk to that woman!" Hiram was adamant against Rachel's decision still, while LeRoy watched and listened from the sidelines.
"From everything I just said the only thing you retained was that I learned a bit about Aaron from his mother?" Rachel asked incredulously, not believing that her father could be so careless in making such a huge decision about someone's life. "But no, it wasn't her fault that I don't want to press charges or testify. This was my decision, and you're going to have to deal with it!" Rachel stomped her foot on the ground (like a child, sure, but she had to get her point across).
"Rachel why don't you go upstairs while I talk to your father down her," LeRoy finally interjected and Rachel sighed and turned away from her dads, happy to get out of the room. She needed to calm down, she knew, but they wouldn't listen to her. Her dad thought she was a traumatized little child who was too broken up to make clear decisions! Well, she wasn't!
"I can't believe you're going to side with her!"
"I'm not siding with either of you…"
Their voices disappeared when she shut the door to her bedroom and fell onto her bed, exhausted. She wanted this to be over. No, what she really wanted was for this to never have even happened, but that wasn't plausible and now she was stuck picking up the pieces to this smashed up puzzle that became her life.
Two families arrived at the police station separately. They entered two different rooms but heard the same speech from two different detectives. There were two lawyers present, one in each room.
One family was connected, holding hands in a line, feeling apprehensive, but the onset of relief was on the horizon. They were determined; sure that the contract they were about to sign would lift a weight off of their shoulders, helping them move on.
The other family was disjointed, broken but taking strides to turn it right again. The agreement was a weight on their shoulders, and with the stroke of a pen the family's life would officially change, but hopefully for the better.
Rachel's dads had finally conceded and agreed on a settlement rather than pressing charges. The settlement was drawn up in one day, approved by a judge the next, and was now being signed on the third.
The agreement stated that Aaron would be institutionalized for at least eight months. After the first whole year of therapy it would be up to the psychiatrists to decided when release was an option. He was also required to stay at least five hundred feet away from Rachel at all times, indefinitely. Any form of contact would constitute as harassment and would be met with serious consequences, and possible imprisonment due to the infringement on the agreement.
"Aaron will be committed to the institution directly from here?" LeRoy asked for confirmation and the detective nodded.
"Yes, sir. He will be driven to the private institution about two hours from Lima with a police escort."
"Great," Hiram said stiffly, seriously.
"I'm glad this is over now." Rachel breathed a sigh in relief. "Now all I have to do is get through those counseling sessions."
"A good idea," the detective said as she stood up to dismiss the family. Rachel smiled at her brightly, feeling an odd sense of freedom after the signing. It was nice to feel safe and to know that things were going to be back to normal soon. No more police stations, no more interviews, and no more Aaron.
They all exited the room after her dads asked a few extra questions for clarification on the settlement. Rachel was distracted, however, by the couple walking out of the room across from her. Of course it would be at the exact same time that she was exiting that an officer was escorting out Aaron and his mother.
She froze. If anything, she should be trying to leave as quickly as possible, but for some reason her feet were rooted into the ground and her eyes were glued to Aaron, who was shuffling forward and staring at his feet.
When he looked up she inhaled sharply, preparing for whatever thing he was going to do.
But nothing came. He just stared into her eyes with a hollow gaze, as if he didn't even see her.
"Rachel?" Her father's hand was on her arm, tugging her away and out. She stumbled forward as her feet began to work again and she moved away. Her head snapped to her dads, who looked nervous and anxious to get her away.
"C'mon baby," her dad pulled her forward gently and she complied, not really thinking anything, allowing her body move on autopilot.
"I-I'm coming," she stuttered, and turned her head back for a last glance, unable to not look. He was still staring at her, watching her, studying her like he would never see her again. She shuddered, finally feeling the urge to flee.
When she turned the corner she felt a sense of relief, knowing she was out his line of view. But that relief turned to horror when she heard the scream from behind her. He was sobbing her name, desperately crying out for her.
"Rachel c'mon," her dad said from somewhere in front of her and pulled her forward more urgently. She wasn't sure what was happening around her because all she could focus on was the crying. He sounded like he was being torture. She wanted him to stop screaming her name. He was horrifying, sad, and sounded broken.
He was screaming her name, begging her to come back, yelling that he loved her and that they should run away together.
And then it stopped. She was outside. The door to the police station shut roughly behind her, silencing the inhuman sounds of a psychotic fit that was, she couldn't help but feel, her fault. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it wasn't her fault at all and that she had nothing to feel guilty for. But that didn't stop the feelings of guilt, no matter how hard she had been trying to escape them for the past week.
Apparently she had a panic attack. She didn't remember much of what happened except for the feeling of sheer, well, panic and the need to sit down.
It was that incident that encouraged her dads to call up the social worker and schedule an appointment as soon as possible, putting Rachel in the position she was in now: on the couch. Literally. She was sitting across from her doctor ready to talk.
The woman was wearing a simple pencil skirt and a dark purple blouse. Her dark brown hair was neatly parted down the side and straight hair fell at a precise angle, presenting a bob that fit her face perfectly. Despite the business-causal attire and manicured hair, she was wearing a pair of high-top black Chuck Taylors, the tops of white socks peaking out from the top of the shoe. Rachel immediately took a liking to the woman.
"Hello, Rachel," she said and extended her hand in greeting. Rachel smiled brightly and returned the gesture. "My name is Andrea Simmel, but please call me Andrea; no need for formalities here." She paused for a moment while she reached towards a table and grabbed a clipboard with a pen attached.
"So how are you feeling today? I've read your file but, of course, the files don't help much with getting to know you as a person. Is there anything you wanted to talk about in particular today? Everything is up to you."
"I'm feeling… prepared. To talk, I mean. I just want to be able to get past all of this and move on with everything. One stalker cannot hinder a future Broadway star, can it? I doubt this will be the first." Rachel was actually quite excited about this tête-à-tête, since most of the time people complained about her excessive talking. Maybe she could get some of it out of her system here. Plus, it would be good to get everything said aloud so she could push it behind her.
"That is great to hear, Rachel. You want to be on Broadway?"
"Yes, ever since I could sing," Rachel beamed at the woman in front of her. "Would you like to hear?"
The social worker laughed. "No, but thank you. I think we have other matters to discuss, if you're open to that."
So they did. Rachel told her about what happened the day of the attack (or was it a kidnap? Rachel shared her uncertainty of what to call it). Mostly, the counselor just asked her how she felt at the time and what she felt now after having the opportunity to reflect on the incident. Rachel tried her best to be honest, but some of it was fuzzy and she often found that she was unable to articulate exactly what she had been feeling.
It wasn't until about the third session that they began to discuss Aaron and pick apart what may have been happening inside his head rather than Rachel's. The social worker apparently knew a few minor details about him as a patient that she was allowed to share with Rachel. The bulk of it, however, was confidential between Aaron and his doctor.
"From what has been analyzed so far, Aaron may have been suffering from a disorder classified as Erotomania with signs of borderline personality disorder. Erotomania is a newly labeled disorder, however, so there is only a small amount of research on it."
"What is it?" Rachel asked curiously, having never heard of it.
"Aaron developed an attraction to you for reasons unknown-,"
"He said that he knew we were meant to be together when I helped him pick up his books in the hallway. I didn't even remember the incident, but apparently that's when it started…" Rachel interrupted and Andrea raised her eyebrows with interest and wrote something down.
"Well that act of kindness may have been a sign, to Aaron, that you had romantic feelings for him. People with the disorder have irrational tendencies and can convince themselves that any minor sign of interaction means much more than it actually does. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or shared glance in passing. You helped him pick up his books, he believed you loved him."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Rachel said, bewildered by the idea.
"It is an illogical logic constructed in Aaron's mind due to his disorder. Extreme types of disordered logic are often a key signifier of insanity." Rachel let the words sink in before responding.
"So… so he didn't think that what he was doing was wrong?" Rachel asked carefully.
"I'm not sure. He may have, in some part of his mind, realized that what he was feeling wasn't entirely rational since he was adamant about keeping you close in fear that you would leave, as you told me. He did, however, bring you into his home and introduce you to his mother, someone who could have separated the two of you."
"So why did he run away from the police after I left? Why did he hurt his mother?" Rachel inquired further, trying to understand.
"I don't know, Rachel, I'm sorry."
Rachel didn't like the answer, to say the least, but it was something. It explained plenty: he believed she loved him because something was wrong with his mind. He was seeing through… clouded glasses. But not everything was fitting together.
"At times, Aaron would act as if he loved me. He listened to me when I told him I wanted to meet his mother. He could have-have… raped me. I had no way out, and I know that he wanted to do it. But instead of hurting me he did what I asked and brought me to his house. Other times he wouldn't hesitate to hurt me. He grabbed me and, you know, he t-touched me when I begged him not to. Why would he only listen to me sometimes?"
"In cases of Erotomania the victim often picks what facts he or she wants to remember and chooses the weight of those facts. Depending on the context of your requests it most likely altered his response. At times he was upset, he would be overcome by his urge to be with you. When he wasn't upset, if you said something nice, for instance, he would do something for you. Ultimately, I would guess, the instinct to control the situation won out and Aaron attacked his mother at that point."
Rachel didn't say anything, again, and tried to sort through all of this new information.
"I don't want to mislead you, and keep in mind that everything I'm saying is theoretical (although possible). We cannot be sure because we are neither Aaron's doctor nor Aaron."
Rachel nodded and understood that everything being said could be false, but she couldn't help but feel reassured by the information. From what she gathered she was now more certain that she had made the right decision in not testifying against Aaron – he was a victim of his own mind. He couldn't even escape himself. At least she was able to get away.
"I feel bad for him," Rachel confessed. "I feel guilty for it. Not for him falling in… er, love with me, but for playing along with his delusion and making him believe that I felt the same."
The confession sparked the reoccurring conversation about Rachel's guilt and how she had to come to terms with the fact that nothing that transpired was her fault. It was obviously her biggest issue, and so far it had come up at every session with Andrea.
Even with all of the reassurance from her family, friends, and social worker, it wasn't much help. Because at the end of the day, when Rachel was laying in bed trying to fall asleep but thinking too much, her mind always wandered back to the moment where she got out of her car before calling the police to report an accident. She thought about how she hadn't pulled out her cell phone in Aaron's truck and tired to call anyone, when she could have but was too afraid. She thought about running away from Aaron's house, leaving his mother to fend for herself.
And no matter who told her otherwise, she knew the truth: things could have been prevented, and so much that did happen was her fault.
Again, I wanted to stress that I have no clue how legitimate legal proceedings actually work, so most of the things I wrote were from what I learned on television or quick search engine skimming. This is the same with Erotomania – it is actually a speculative disorder, but I think the concept is super interesting.
As always, thank you so much for reading.