Verdict: Guilty as Charged

The sentence comes three months after his arrest. Guilty in all points of the charge. The proof is simply too overtaking for any doubt which may have lengthened the trial. Multiple murder, over the course of twenty years. It brings everyone down. Even the nifty Digging Jack.

It´s a long and wary process. All the doctors come to the same conclusion. Multiple personality disorder. One innocent, horrified by the acts his alter ego has committed. The other murderous and with no sign of remorse. And the worst is, the other one seems to get stronger. Again and again, the Shawn everybody knows gets pushed aside, suppressed by the stronger, the violent part of his soul. Especially in court this makes a strong impression on the people involved. The judge, the jury, everyone. Voices are loud from the beginning, that his is all a trick, that he tries to plead insanity for his own advantage. But the doctors all say the same. All the experts agree, independently from each other, that this is not an act.

"This man is sick." one of them states in court, an internationally respected psychologist. "One of the worst cases I´ve ever seen."

The court wears them all out, but none as much as it wears out Juliet. On the inside. On the outside she´s the strongest of them all. She is the one who supports Henry when he has his breakdown, right after he walks out of the courtroom, not able to keep his composure any longer. She holds his shaking form, padding his back comfortingly, while she wants to cry herself. But somehow she can´t. She just can´t. She knows she has to be strong, or all the walls will break, and fall apart all around them.

The verdict comes at last. Instead of the needle Shawn gets therapy, in one of the highest secured state prisons. He´s raging, in court, when the sentence is announced, and as the guards drag him out, he´s laughing, like a mad man that enjoys the greatest day of his life.

Juliet can´t stand it any longer. She can´t stand looking at Henry´s retrieved face, or at Gus, who still looks as if this is all fresh for him. As if they found out, not three months ago, but only today. Juliet gets up and leaves, not looking back when Lassiter calls after her. His voice is a choked, uncertain cry, not the harsh tone it used to be, before all this madness came over them, to bury all their lives underneath the debris.

...

"They say you can overcome it." Gus tells him, three months into his incarceration, and Shawn´s eyes are wide, desperate.

The white jump suite he´s wearing makes him look even paler than he already is. And Juliet wishes, desperately, that she´d be able to reach through some bars, to touch him, squeeze his hand, to let him know she´s here. To let him feel that he isn´t alone.

But she can´t. She can´t reach through the bars, because there are none. Just a cold wall of plexiglass, air holes in it and covered over and over with fingerprints. The nurses say he´s getting better, that today is a good day, and these good days are getting more regular. The medics do their work. At least a bit.

But Juliet knows that there are other days, still. Days when he is not the Shawn she knows, the soft and gentle one, that she fell in love with. On those days he´s Jack the Digger. And Jack is raging, shouting, hitting against the glass to get out, and laughing like mad, when he realizes that he can´t. As if it was all a big joke, a ridiculous try of them to keep him locked up. She has seen footage from the security cams, against the advise of the doctors, and it had made her blood run cold.

Looking at him now, makes it even more unreal. Because he´s so scared, he tells them. Scared of the other one. He´s shaking, and she just knows that it is real. His fear is real. And so is his need for her. And Gus. For all of them.

Even Carlton has come here a few times, at the beginning of it all. Only he stopped visiting, after a while. Juliet knows why, but she doesn´t pester him. It´s hard for all of them, and other than Henry, Carlton at least tried to face this. Sometimes she wonders how she can still stand to face this.

"I …" Shawn stutters now, eying his best friend with desperate fear. "I don´t know, Gus. I can´t do this any longer. I´m going mad in here."

"No, you won´t." Gus tells him, and he tries his best to sound strong. "You won´t, Shawn. You will get better. There are a dozen doctors and psychologists working here, to take care of you. They will find a way to cure you."

"He´s right." Juliet agrees, and steps closer to the glass, laying her hands over his, to emphasize her words.

His eyes soften at this, and from one moment to the other, his fear seems to subside, not completely but he´s calmer now.

Juliet looks him straight in the eyes, and she nods. "You will come back to me." she tells him. "One day, you will walk out of here, cured from this … this sickness."

"Right." Gus breaths, so tensed, worried about his friend. "You only need to trust them."

"Them." Shawn repeats, eyes cast down, as if he contemplates this word.

"They can cure you." Gus insists. "And we´ll help you. When you only go to therapy and take your medics."

Shawn smiles, sadly, but there is something in his eyes now that speaks of more confidence than he has shown before. Something a little less afraid than before.

"I will." he promises, and he looks at both of them. "For you." he tells them. "I promise."

...

In that night, Juliet sleeps badly. She dreams of Shawn, switching back and forth between his two personalities, almost with each breath he takes. He´s with her, talking to her, and she tries to make sense of what he´s trying to tell her. In her dream it is weary but not unusual to talk to him like he´s two different people, sharing one body. She feels drained by the try to keep track on who she´s talking to. But she isn´t scared. She´s annoyed.

"Can´t you just decide what you want already?" she cries in this dream, fed up with his indecisiveness.

But he can´t. Because none of the two parts wants to step back, to hand the body over to the other, just like that.

"I have as much right to live this life as he does." Jack cries, furious, and there´s nothing Juliet could say against that, is there?

"I was born in it." Shawn insists. "I grew up with this. And Juliet is my girlfriend, not yours, dude."

"Oh come on, little brother. It stays in the family, doesn´t it?"

"You don´t even know her favorite movie quote."

The banter goes on but Juliet doesn´t remember it all. It all seems to fly by, like a draft, and all she remembers is this one point Shawn has tried to make. One that doesn´t seem to make any sense. What does her favorite movie quote have to do with it? And just because they´re identical twins, doesn´t mean they have to share everything. Jack´s just talking crazy.

She wants to tell him that, but she doesn´t get a chance. Because the banter has accelerated into a solid fight between the two brothers by now. They struggle, and Juliet watches them in fear that they will hurt each other. She doesn´t stop and wonder how there can be two of them all the sudden, where they have been only one, before.

The fight becomes so violent that she is scared to death. Blood is all over them, and all around her the living room lies in ruins, as they use everything they find as a weapon against the other. Still Juliet feels as if this fight is so normal, like a regular fight between brothers that simply have a disagreement. Just like it is totally normal for her to hear Shawn and Gus banter about something. And they never try to actually kill each other either, do they?

Before she has a chance to wonder what would happen to Shawn, if one of them would kill the other, she wakes up, from the shrill sound of her phone. Outside it is still dark. Her clock reads, three thirty a.m.

...

The emergency call comes in, at the nurses station, at two in the morning. Amanda Deary has the night shift today, and she is quite worried when she hears it is Shawn Spencer´s cell that needs a visit.

She knows Shawn. He´s a nice enough guy, and so far she´d had the great luck not to encounter his other personality. The other nurses have told her about him, and she believes them. But when she´s talking to nice, and shy Shawn, she always forgets that he is sick. He seems helpless, and submissive. And who could blame him, having to stand being locked up in this place.

Now that she heads for his cell, Dr. Armstrong at her right, the guards to her left, her heart pounds with fear. She has seen a few suicide attempts in those facilities, and some of them have actually been successful. Please, she begs in her mind. Please, let Shawn not end like this. He doesn´t deserve this.

The guard, standing before the cell, looks pale when they approach him, and Amanda already sees the cell covered in blood, from a gushing wound on Shawn´s wrist, his eyes open and empty. She almost stops in her tracks, scared to see it. But her feet keep moving, always efficient and ready to do the job, no matter how cruel the sight might be.

Her breath itches one last time, before her eyes finally fall down on the man lying there, on the ground, before his cot. But there is no blood. His eyes are indeed open, but not empty. They´re wide, with pain and panic. His hand is clutching his chest, and he wrenches, gasping heavily for air.

"He started to breath like that, five minutes ago." the guard tells them. "I don´t think he´s pretending."

Amanda dosn´t think so either. Shawn´s getting read in the face, and he´s sweating. Dr. Armstrong shares her opinion.

"Open the door." he orders, and the guard hesitates. "You have guns, for gods sake. There are three of you here. At least ten locked doors between here and a freedom this man will never see again. There´s no danger that he might get away from here. But he´ll suffocate if you don´t let me help him. So would you please open this door?"

"Doctor!" Amanda cries, staring at Shawn, who´s stopped heaving, the tension in his body getting slack already.

"Now, goddammit!" Armstrong shouts and this time the guard agrees.

It needs a few quick checks and a syringe full of epinephrine to make Shawn´s lungs function again. The result is a loud rasping breath, wide bloodshot eyes and a hand that clutches Amanda´s wrist, so suddenly it startles her into a jump. And after that, nothing. He sinks into himself, and is gone.

Amanda bows over him, almost faster than Dr. Armstrong can. Almost.

"I need to bring him to the infirmary." he tells the guards. "He´s in very critical condition. Get a stretcher. Hurry."

"Why is this happening to him, doctor?" Amanda asks, but the old man shakes his head.

"I wish I knew." he mumbles. "I wish I knew."

The stretcher is brought in barely two minutes later. The guards lift Shawn up, binding his wrists and ankles with leather straps, safely, before shoving him out of the cell. Amanda and Dr. Armstrong stay at his side, all the time.

...

When he opens his eyes, no one notices, at first. The doctor and his nurse are too busy discussing Shawn´s well being, and how to keep him stable over night, that they don´t see it coming. Not until it´s too late.

The straps are removed easily. His father taught him well, and one hand is loose anyway. They had to set an IV to his arm, so they set him free almost by themselves. Free to do whatever he wants.

And he does.

The doctor comes first. He´s the bigger threat, no matter how old, but he´s a male and the nurse is too shocked to respond in time. When he advances upon her, she only shrieks, but not nearly loud enough to alarm anyone farther away than right outside the closed door.

Of course the guards come running, but it is not distraction that keeps the slash on her throat perfunctory.

Shots are ringing out, and he dodges, and runs head down, into the man´s stomach. A grunt is audible and then there are more shots from his gun. Only this time they aim at his colleagues. The two are down in seconds, and the gun is pried from its owner´s hand. One single shot is enough to thank him. Two more,one respectively for each of the other guards, to end their suffering.

After that it is silent. Silent except for the gurgling breathing sounds, just behind him, from the corner.

He turns around, smiling at the helpless panic of his nurse. Her hand on her throat is bloody, her face so pale as if she´s already dead. But she isn´t. Not yet.

He throws the gun away, as casually as someone would throw a piece of junk to the ground. He could run now, he knows. He probably should. But he just can´t help himself. He needs to make sure they know who just escaped them.

"You never were anything without me, Shawn." he mutters, fixing burning eyes on the fading nurse. "It´s time for you to admit this."

There´s a tiny twitch in the back of his mind, and he frowns irritated. But it´s gone as fast as it came, and so he shakes his head, ignoring it. The nurse´s eyes are falling shut already. But still she´s so beautifully terrified.

Jack the Digger looks around, until he finds what he needs. And goes to work.

...

"… no one knows where he went." Carlton´s voice cries into her ear. "Did you just hear me, O´Hara?"

"I heard you." Juliet manages it to breath. "I just don´t believe it."

"I´m on my way over to you. Stay inside, and lock all your doors and windows."

"I only have one door, Carlton."

"Did you hear what I just said?" he asks again and he emphasizes every single word, to make sure she´ll understand.

"I hear you." she says, astoundingly calm. "I´ll be fine."

"Five minutes." he tells her. "Tops." and then the line is dead. But not because he hung up. It happened too fast for that. There was no click, indicating the disconnecting of a call. Instead the line is just gone. And from one moment to the other Juliet´s breath is too.

Her mouth opens, to speak, but it needs much longer than she´d expected to actually form the words.

"Carlton?" she asks, against better knowledge, and in her heart she already knows who´s standing behind her, in the dark corner of her own apartment.

How he´s gotten in she doesn´t know. But she doesn´t need to know. She knows only one thing. The man in this room is not the one she loves, not her friend, not her comrade through all those crime solving adventures they´ve been through over the years. The man in this room is here for one reason and one alone. To kill her. Just like all the others. And it is either him or her.

Either way, one of them will be dead at the end of this night.

Juliet grabs her gun, with a shaking hand, before she turns around.