A/N: I really hate how long it's taking to get these last few chapters out! There's one more chapter left of hospital scenes, then a chapter post-hospital, and then the traditional post-credits scene.

Giving their statements seemed to have taken more out of Shawn than he'd let on. Shortly after Henry returned to the room and explained that Juliet would be back later, Shawn had fallen into a deep sleep.

Gus flipped through the tv channels, trying to find something to pass the time as he kept an ear out for Shawn's thoughts. He was exhausted too, but he needed to watch Shawn's back. It would be his turn to sleep later.

It also meant he had longer before he had to worry about his dreams, but that wasn't the main reason. It was just a side benefit.

He wondered how many times he'd have to tell himself that before he believed it.

An upbeat retro song started playing and Gus stopped flipping channels; the A-team seemed like an appropriate distraction, all things considered, and there was something oddly soothing about campy 80's shows. He settled in to watch ridiculous rescues, fast talking con men, and bad guys who always went to jail.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be holding the same charm as usual. When the team managed to outsmart their foe by shoving him into an inflatable tent, Gus found himself thinking about how Dahmer would have just cut it open with the scalpel. The first time a car flipped, he couldn't help his flinch as he remembered glass shards flying towards him. His leg twinged when the team shot an endless barrage of bullets, he remembered the feeling of blood on his fingers when the team's hands filled the screen, and B.A. not reacting to being punched brought up a hot wave of resentment.

He'd finally decided he'd had enough when the good guys were winning a fight with a water hose, of all things, when Henry spoke up softly. "You know what always bothered me about this show?"

"What?" Gus asked, his finger hovering over the remote.

"All of the times they were captured… no one ever stole B.A.'s jewelry."

Gus snorted and glanced at the screen where B.A. was in full view, his neck dripping with gold chains. He tried to not twitch as his phantom collar seemed to rub against his neck. "It is kind of ridiculous, isn't it?"

"It really is," Henry agreed. "And the bad guys never have any sort of strategy. Like right here… Why not actually use their guns? Or drive away from the water?"

"Because that would get in the way of them jumping between vehicles and punching each other," Gus pointed out with a smirk.

"Which is bad strategy."

Henry continued to rift on the logic of the show, even offering pointers on how the good guys' plans could have been better, and Gus found himself relaxing and adding in a few criticisms of his own. The next two episodes were much more enjoyable experiences.

Gus was just starting to giggle at Henry's rant at the current bad guys locking the team in a tool shed when he heard ponging balls starting to bounce in distress. He looked over, but Shawn still seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Still, thoughts didn't lie, and Gus wasn't going to let him be hurt any more than he already was.

"Shawn, wake up," he called out, wishing he could talk louder as Shawn's thoughts sped up.

Henry frowned and told him, "He needs to rest."

"I know, but he's dreaming," Gus explained as he looked around for some other way to wake Shawn. Yelling wasn't going to work this time.

Henry glanced over to take in Shawn's motionless, sleeping form and looked back at Gus. "He seems fine, just let him sleep."

Gus sighed in annoyance and didn't bother answering as he debated throwing his pillow. It probably wouldn't work… and then he wouldn't have a pillow anymore. He glanced at the space between their beds, wondering if the simplest answer was to just unhook himself from his monitors and walk over there.

Shawn started to twitch and whimper as faint screams echoed in his thoughts. Henry looked over sharply before his eyes slid over to stare at Gus as one more puzzle piece clicked into place, finishing an astonished picture.

A quiet groan broke through Henry's shock, and he stood up to gently shake Shawn's shoulder. "Hey, kiddo, it's time to wake up."

Shawn flinched away from the touch with a gasp, his eyes still closed, and Henry flinched with him, quickly withdrawing his hand. He looked Shawn over before straightening and speaking with a stern voice. "Shawn. You need to wake up."

Shawn jolted awake at the order and looked around quickly, fire and screams pressing into Gus' shield as Shawn tried to reorient himself. Henry kept talking in the same tone. "You're in the hospital, you're safe. You're not there anymore. I need you to focus, what do you see?"

Shawn looked around again, his eyes losing their frantic edge as he focused. "Hospital room, Gus is here, Jules is gone, A-team's building something, nurse updated Gus' board, no updates on mine, she's a lefty, I'm still on the good drugs…" He let out a small breath as the fire faded. It's over, we got out."

"Not bad," Henry said with a small smirk. "Only half credit on the nurse though; she's a he."

Shawn studied the board again. "He has very loopy handwriting."

"Yeah, he does," Henry agreed, sitting back down. Gus wondered if Shawn realized it was a deliberate action so Henry wasn't looming over him and adding to any lingering fear.

Shawn's thoughts continued to calm as he looked around again, his gaze landing on Gus. "You good?"

Gus swallowed down a lump in his throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Still not dead," Shawn answered with a tired half-smile. "And, hey, bonus. You didn't have to be Dad this time."

Gus snorted, ignoring Henry's confused look. "Yeah, I guess I didn't. He did it faster, too."

"It was easier this time," Shawn dismissed the argument with a small wave, showing off his unrestrained hands. "How long did I sleep?"

"About five A-team episodes."

"Huh. Not bad." Shawn studied the TV before asking, "You know what always bugged me about this show?"

Gus huffed a laugh, gladly giving in to the distraction. "What?"

Shawn waved at the screen, where B.A.'s hands were in full view with thick, gold rings adorning each finger. "This episode they're even captured by criminals… and no one ever thinks to take B.A.'s jewelry! There's so much money there…"

"That's what I said," Henry agreed. He smirked at the horrified look on Shawn's face before digging into his pocket. "And that reminds me… Here. I didn't have a chance to get it fixed, but I figured you'd want it back."

He held out a black cord with a small pendant hanging from it. Shawn's face continued its expression-journey as it morphed into shock and he took his necklace back, studying the cut end right next to the clasp. "I didn't think I'd see this again. Thanks."

"No problem." Henry's thoughts betrayed his calm tone, showing the relief and guilt he was keeping locked inside. "So… speaking of jewelry. I notice Gus seems very attached to one of your older necklaces. And you apparently kissed, and have a date planned… anything I should know about?"

"Yes," Shawn answered, suddenly serious. He looked at Henry and took a deep breath before stating, "Dad. I'm carrying Gus' baby."

Gus sighed, far too used to Shawn's ways to even be surprised.

Henry nodded, just as serious, before picking up his fishing magazine. "I always knew this day would come. I'll get started on the crib when I get home."

"Really? Nothing?" Shawn looked at both of them in dismay before sighing, "Jules would have at least laughed."

"And that's why you're dating her, and not me," Gus pointed out before giving him a quick smile. It was good that Shawn was already calm enough to joke, even if there was an underlying unease in his thoughts, echoing the unease Gus could feel in his own mind. They got out, but they were still hurting.

He was guessing they'd be hurting for a while.

Relaxing in front of the TV quickly morphed into several arguments and debates until Gus couldn't even remember what had started their current conversation.

"Gus, we could have had our snack trolley system run straight from the food carts!" Shawn complained. "Even you couldn't argue with that investment."

"The snack trolley was a flawed system," Gus argued, "and the hole you cut into our window wasn't even big enough for it!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know I was supposed to measure it first?"

Gus glared at him. "469 dollars and 75 cents. That's how much it cost to fix the window."

"Why? Why do you remember that exact number?" Shawn asked in exasperation.

"Because it's 438 dollars plus tax."

"That's… what?"

Henry and Shawn both looked at him with matching bewildered stares and Gus glared back, wishing he could cross his arms to maximize the effect. He continued the argument smugly. "I also know you didn't use the right tool. A string and an exacto knife? Really? At least Natalia-"

He faltered as a new sensation creeped in, pulling against his shield. The room around him started to fade away as he struggled to breathe, pulling voids sucking him into memories he couldn't fight.

"Woah, hey, Gus. Easy, what's going on?" Shawn asked, his voice bringing Gus back to their room.

Gus clenched his hand around his bracelet and tried to keep himself in the present as he forced himself to feel out for the thought sensation. Tar bubbled on the edge of his vision, threatening to pull him in, and he relaxed with a shaky sigh.

"Hey, you know the drill. You gotta talk back, remember?"

"Sorry, I'm fine," Gus said faintly. "Incoming. Agent Wright's not dead."

"Oh, great. Think he's gonna to try to arrest us again?" Shawn asked as he sat up slightly, eyeing the door. Henry didn't even bother looking up from his magazine.

Gus could only manage a headshake as he heard the sound of rain coming from the officer still stationed outside their room. Wright couldn't arrest them again if they were still arrested.

Shawn frowned at him in concern. "Hey, it's ok. We convinced him I was psychic, right? Worst case scenario, he's just here to gloat that we're back in custody."

"Yeah, I know," Gus pointed at his head, "just stupid mind stuff."

Shawn nodded his understanding as he broadcasted the feeling of a hug. Gus smiled slightly before a nurse with thoughts that tasted like disgruntled black coffee peeked in. "Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have a Mr. Wright here who wanted to visit you. Is now a good time?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with," Shawn said, shooting another worried look at Gus. Henry put down his magazine, suddenly looking very interested in what was going on.

The nurse left before coming back pushing a wheelchair holding a middle-aged man with watery eyes and greasy black hair. Wright's eyes held the same disdain they always did as he looked them over and spoke in a flat voice. "Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster… and Mr. Spencer, I presume?"

Henry stood up and moved to stand at the foot of Shawn's bed, his arms crossed in a silent challenge. "Yep. What do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Shawn asked as he studied Wright and a humorless smile tugged at the edge of his lips. "He knows I'm a psychic now. He knows I know more about him than he wants anyone in his department to know, and now he knows I know he knows-"

"Shawn," Gus interrupted softly before he could get too lost in his words.

Wright watched Shawn without any emotion, making sure he was done before saying, "New evidence has come to light, and the initial charges may have been… a bit too hasty."

"And you want to clean it up before anything moves up to more official channels," Shawn stated, his smile growing even as his eyes stayed hard.

Wright breathed out, and on any other person Gus would have called it a sigh. "I don't see why you're celebrating. My understanding is that your current position is due to your psychic abilities, and yet again they caused more harm to your friend than you." Shawn's smile dropped and he flinched back, like he'd been physically hit. A tar bubble popped in satisfaction before Wright drawled, "Your charges are dropped, you're both free to go."

Gus blinked at him in surprise, still trying to comprehend the words as Wright snapped his fingers at the nurse to take him back out of the room. The sharp noise pulled him out of his shock and he was talking before he had decided what to say. "Hey, Wright. You know how your wife ran from your abuse and you're now using official resources off the books to track her down…?"

Wright's jaw twitched and his shoulders tightened as he signaled the nurse to stop. "Yes. I remember my wife."

"Shawn told me what he saw," Gus continued, remembering how he'd wanted to hit and tear and choke when the agent's thoughts had taken over his. At least he could do something about this bad guy. "We could make your life very difficult if we wanted."

Shawn pinged his understanding and spoke up, his voice more confident than his thoughts. "Let her go. I'll know if you don't."

Wright glared at them, his thoughts boiling in hate as he jerked his head in a nod before signaling the nurse to take him out of the room. Gus tracked his thoughts until they were out of range, making sure there weren't any more surprises they'd need to deal with.

They were free. It seemed like it should be more important than it felt. A faint sound of relief ponged next to him, barely noticeable next to the overwhelming guilt.

Gus was so tired of bad guys using him to hurt Shawn. He watched Shawn's face as he said firmly, "What he said was bullshit, just like all of the other bullshit."

Shawn clenched his jaw, his eyes straying to Gus' bad arm. "Sure."

Gus sighed; he'd say his piece as many times as it took for Shawn to finally get it. "If I hadn't been grabbed with you the first time, you'd be dead. It took a hell of a lot longer for me to be drugged than it would have for your skull to be cracked open." Shawn paled at the description, but the guilt was still loud in his thoughts. "I told you before; I'm glad I was there. I'd rather all of this," Gus waved towards the bandages on his face and arm, "than be safe at home after going to your funeral."

Shawn sighed and looked away. Henry looked like he was about to say something, but Gus shook his head, cutting him off before he could start.

He'd tried being gentle, he'd tried waiting, he'd tried ignoring it. Nothing had worked. It was time for a new approach. Gus took a deep breath and asked, "Do you think my place is on my knees?"

Two sets of Spencer eyes snapped up to stare at him before Shawn stuttered, "Wh-what?! NO!"

"He was insane, he was happiest when he was hurting us, and everything out of that 'asshole of a mouth' was crap," Gus said adamantly. "If it wasn't you saving my life in the lab, then he would have found some other reason to hurt us. Either you believe everything he said, or you believe none of it. Which is it?"

Shawn gaped at him, his thoughts stuttering frantically, and Gus wondered if he'd pushed too far, too soon. Then, like a break in the storm, the thoughts started moving again, the rhythms growing closer together until they all bounced together as one. Shawn whispered his answer. "None of it."

Gus looked him in the eyes as he told him, "It wasn't your fault."

Shawn swallowed thickly and nodded, looking up to blink several times before turning away. Gus didn't say anything, letting him have what little privacy he could. Henry nodded in understanding when Gus looked his way, and he quietly walked up to lay a hand on Shawn's shoulder.

No other words needed said as the guilt slowly bled from Shawn's thoughts.

The room was still quiet. Shawn and Henry were having a murmured conversation, and Gus was doing his best to ignore it to give them space. The silence between the two beds wasn't bad, but it wasn't comfortable either, and Gus couldn't help but think that he could help more if he could just move closer. He was forcibly reminded of being restrained and having to just watch as Shawn was hurt without being able to do anything about it.

He shook the thought away and tried to focus on the random retro show that was playing now that the A-team marathon was done. Shawn was finally letting himself feel and process things; he couldn't do that if he was having to help Gus calm down again. So, for now, Gus needed to be fine.

Gus' eyes started glazing over and he realized he didn't remember anything he'd been trying to watch for the last five minutes. The hospital bed was softer than it had any right to be, the drugs made him feel just a little bit warm and fuzzy, and his eyelids were feeling heavy. The quiet in the room wasn't helping matters.

Gus gave his head a subtle shake and tried to wake himself up. Sleeping definitely wasn't allowed until Shawn was feeling better. Shawn had talked him down through enough panic attacks already; he didn't have to deal with it again. Not yet anyways.

A small part of him wondered if it would be better if they were in different rooms, so he could deal with his nightmares on his own.

A faint buzzing on the back of his neck pulled Gus out of his thoughts and he gritted his teeth as the psychic sensation grew stronger. When he focused, he could tell it was just the feeling of a buzz cutter on the back of his neck, but it was far too close to a scalpel scraping his skin to be comfortable. Not to mention it was in the same spot where the belt buckle had been digging into him.

"Hello, there." The male nurse with loopy handwriting and annoying thought sensations walked into their room. "I'm just dropping by to check how you're doing."

Gus answered the nurse's questions automatically and tried to ignore the buzzing. He fought against the growing urge to run his hand along the back of his neck to chase away the sensation; the gesture would be too noticeable, and he needed to be fine for a while. They were safe. He could be fine.

"On a scale of one to ten, where ten is the worst, how much pain are you in?" the nurse asked Shawn.

Shawn's voice was less energetic than usual, but his words were still typical-Shawn when he answered, "Let's say 3.58. That seems like a nice, round number."

Gus sighed and picked up the expected argument. "That's not what a round number is."

"What are you talking about? They all have curves, therefor they're all round."

"That's not even what round means in a geometric sense," Gus complained, feeling both grateful and disgruntled that the distraction was helping. Shawn wasn't supposed to be helping him yet.

Shawn's smirk seemed slightly less forced when he asked, "What have I told you about making up words?"

"Well, it seems like everything's looking good," the nurse interrupted. "I'll come back for another check-up in a couple of hours."

A niggling sense of wrongness started to set in, making the buzzing feel louder even as the nurse walked away. Gus' chest tightened with the realization that one of them was going to be hurt, and he needed to fix his mistake, but he didn't know what his mistake was. Which was ridiculous, because they were safe.

"Gus?"

Gus shook his head and answered the question. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Shawn said with narrowed eyes. Gus internally cursed; this was what he'd been trying to avoid.

"I'm fine," he tried again, willing himself to believe it. Something felt like it was hanging over him, an unresolved chord in the silence, waiting for him to fix it. His heart beat faster at the adrenaline rushing through him; he needed to do something. He just didn't know what.

Shawn sighed and snapped out, "Please don't make me point out how much of a hypocrite you're being. What's wrong?"

"I don't-" Gus cut himself off with a groan as he retraced the conversation and understood what was happening. He'd been asked a question, and he hadn't had a chance to answer. A day and a half was apparently all it took to condition him like a dog.

"Gus…"

Gus shook his head. Shawn was right; he was a hypocrite. Everything Dahmer had done was bullshit, it shouldn't be something he was still hanging on to. He just needed to let it go, to let it be in the past where it belonged, because they were safe and he was fine.

Beakers cracked loudly right outside the door, the sound gleeful at his distress. Gus was on his feet in an instant, scrambling to put himself between Shawn and the bad guy. His leg ached, the crook of his elbow stung, his arm was too heavy and wrong, but none of that mattered because Dahmer was still alive.

How could he have been so stupid to think that he could die, that they were safe, that it was over. They were never going to be safe; Dahmer had only let them think they could get away, but now he was back and it was all going to start over again and…

"...us. What's going on, talk to me here…"

Shawn's voice was going in and out, like waves on the beach, but he wasn't gagged right now. It wasn't fair that he was going to have to be gagged again. Gus didn't want to be the one to tell him, but he needed to know. "He's here. He's here, he's here, he's here…"

At least Shawn had a cast now; that had to be better than a duct taped splint. Maybe that's why Dahmer let them go for so long… Maybe that meant he wouldn't hurt them as much now, he needed them alive, he needed to study them. The collar tightened around his neck and Gus wheezed as he stared at the door. What was taking him so long?

"... dead, remember? Gus. He's not here, we saw him…"

Gus shook his head; they'd only thought he was dead. He was here now. "You imagined him dead all sorts of times..."

"...Fuck."

Gus agreed with the sentiment, relieved that Shawn understood. He'd be able to run now. Dahmer needed Gus; he could make do without Shawn.

"...need to know what to expect, right?" Shawn was still talking; he needed to run. Why wasn't he running? "Gus. You need to tell me what he's thinking so we know what's coming."

That made sense; he'd done that before. And Dahmer still wasn't coming in, which didn't make sense. Gus needed to know what was going on. He felt out, listening for the cracking glass and the pulling void.

They weren't there.

Gus' breath caught in his chest and he tried again, listening as hard as he could to the sensations around him. There were so many people, but not that one.

Why had he left?

"Gus? What's he thinking?"

"I… I don't…" He had heard the beakers. He knew he had.

An apology was pinged at him before a visual was sent: The floor of the garage was hard under his elbow and hip, his leg was a ball of pain, his back was searing as his position pulled on the cuts… and none of that mattered as he stared in satisfaction at the hole in the side of Dahmer's head and the splatter of blood and brains spreading out on the floor past it.

Gus started to shake. That had been a memory, not an imagination.

"Gus, can you look at me?"

Gus shook his head as his breathing picked up. He didn't know what was real anymore.

A loud breath was let out before Shawn said more firmly, "Gus, don't be a lonely teddy bear. Get over here."

Gus wasn't sure if it was the familiarity of the joke or the need to follow the order that made his feet move, shuffling backwards until his legs hit the bed.

"I'm going to touch your shoulder; it's just me."

A hand settled on his shoulder, steady and comforting. He shouldn't need it; he didn't want it to ever let go. It pulled him back so he was sitting on the bed, close enough to feel Shawn's warmth through his thin gown. He knew the sounds around them weren't real. He knew the touch was real. But what if he was wrong?

"Hey, you with me?"

"I don't know," Gus answered truthfully. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer when he asked, "What was it?"

"The crash?" Shawn asked. Gus nodded. "It sounded like a bunch of metal. Maybe a tray of tools or something."

Gus' breath hitched and even he didn't know if it was a laugh or a sob. It hadn't even been glass.

Shawn pulled at his shoulder, prompting him to move. Gus shook his head and resisted; Shawn needed to focus on himself. At least one of them needed to get out of this with their sanity, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.

Shawn sighed and sent another broadcast, the feeling of a tight hug.

"Not my turn," Gus whispered, knowing Shawn would understand what he meant. The knife was starting to itch on the back of his neck again, right where the collar was digging in.

"Did it ever occur to you that helping you helps me too?" Shawn asked as he pulled on Gus' shoulder again.

Gus did want to help Shawn. He let himself be turned, lifting his feet to rest next to Shawn's as he was pulled into a side-hug. The arm around his shoulder was heavy and grounding, but other sensations pressed in on him at the same time. The pull of a fishing line, the squeeze of bandages, water on his face, the warmth of a pet on his lap, smooth ivory keys under his fingers. A knife on the back of his neck.

Someone walked through the door and Gus flinched back, even as he registered the nurse with loopy writing. A voice spoke up from Shawn's other side. "Unless it's life or death, you need to give them five minutes."

Gus felt like a coward as he turned further to bury his face in Shawn's shoulder. He hadn't even realized Henry was still in the room. The buzzing on his neck changed, the sensation stuttering as the nurse tried to decide what he was supposed to do.

"He… uh, his IV…"

"Five minutes without meds won't hurt him." Henry's tone was polite, but with an underlying command of someone who knew he'd be getting his way.

Shawn kept his voice low as his thoughts clicked in concern. "Would it help to do our thing?"

He sent a broadcast to elaborate: His hand resting on the nape of his friend's neck, a subtle relaxing of his friend's eyebrows and shoulders.

Gus nodded quickly, too desperate to be embarrassed.

Shawn shifted, his arm never moving as he reached around to lay his other hand on the back of Gus' neck. Immediately, the ponging sounds strengthened Gus' faltering shield and the difference between real sensations and psychic sensations were easier to feel. The buzzing on the back of his neck faded and he relaxed into the embrace.

He felt the sudden need to explain and turned his head so his already-quiet voice wouldn't be too muffled. "I heard cracking beakers."

"That's what he felt like?"

"Yeah…"

"I probably would have freaked out too, then."

The quiet acceptance was the last straw to break the dam of emotions; Gus buried his face in Shawn's hospital gown and finally let himself cry.

Juliet had always rolled her eyes when Lassiter would growl that he wanted to kill whoever was on the other side of the interrogation table. She understood the feeling now.

"Jeffery wanted to show me the process and Jack was the obvious subject. I did my best to make the procedure safer, but I knew I couldn't stop him. He was strong and fast and had a gun… it just didn't make sense to be hurt for no reason." Rhianna's eyes were wide as she talked to Lassiter, and Juliet seethed behind him as the woman tried to play up her weakness.

Normally, Juliet would play good cop to Lassiter's bad cop; today wasn't normal. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the interrogation table as she asked pointedly, "If you were worried about your friend, then why did we find you alone in the room with Dr. Brown, without restraints, but you still weren't trying to help him?"

Rhianna kept her eyes on Lassiter as she answered the question. "I was scared; I didn't know what to do. Jeffery had only gone into the other room for a minute to fetch the acquired." Juliet felt the urge to strangle the woman grow.

Rhianna's eyes lit up as she smiled widely and continued, "He realized we could learn when, exactly, the subject's mind changed within his procedure. He truly is a visionary; one day with him was worth so many years of researching alone… the things we can-" she cut herself off and the shift back into a scared, helpless woman was almost instant. "I'm sorry, it was easier to think about the science than about what might happen."

Lasitter's voice was even and almost gentle as he asked, "There were two other men with you; did you see any of what happened to them?"

Juliet knew he was playing good cop so she wouldn't have to. She still wanted to smack him. She'd read Shawn and Gus' statement on the way over to the station; the bitch didn't deserve the good cop routine.

Rhianna sighed. "They wouldn't behave for Jeffery; if they'd only listened, it would have been much easier for them." She smiled shyly at Lassiter. "I did try to help; I stopped them from being hurt too much, I saved the congenital's life when Jeffery wanted to open his skull, I found a non-lethal way to study their brains…" Her smile dropped as she stared off into space. "Oh! The parietal lobe also helps process language! What if our psychic sense is actually an evolved advantage due to how social-"

"Two men were tortured one room away from you," Juliet cut in, enjoying Rhianna's shocked jump. "And you don't have a bruise on you. Even Jack was hurt more than you. You seriously expect us to believe you weren't a part of it?"

"Is Jack going to be ok?" Rhianna asked. If it wasn't for her previous statement where she'd defended Dahmer's choice to experiment on him, Juliet might have thought the concern was real.

"We haven't heard," Lassiter lied. "Tell me, you were with the other men for over a day. Why don't you use their names?"

Rhianna gave him a look and explained like the answer was obvious. "You don't use test subjects' names, it can add unintentional biases. Their designations indicate what they are so the control and experimental factors can stay separate."

Lassiter's hand nudging Juliet's leg was the only thing that kept her from flying into a rage at the obvious dismissal of their friends. He prompted Rhianna, "What they are…?"

"They're psychics," Rhianna breathed out, a wide smile stretching across her face. "One congenital and the other acquired. Jeffery made a psychic. Do you have any idea how incredible that is?"

"And that's why you had to study them?"

"Yes!" Rhianna's smile grew even wider, showing too many teeth. "My whole life I've been trying to prove that we have psychic centers in our brains, that psychics are real. Jeffery was able to make that a reality. He did what I wasn't able to, and he showed me just how small I was thinking! Our work can change the world!"

"And that's worth hurting and killing people?" Lassiter pressed.

"The psychics were going to jail," Rhianna snapped, clearly annoyed at the detectives focusing on the wrong thing. "They could either be a drain on society or the means to make the world better. It's their own fault they wouldn't listen and behave. And Jack has always been supportive of my research; he would have understood if there was time to convince him."

Lassiter leaned back, a clear gesture for Juliet to take over. Juliet reached out and picked up the folder lying on the table between his hands. "Is that how you convinced yourself when you chose to take him hostage?" Rhianna twitched slightly and Juliet pulled a photo of a gun out of the folder and set it on the table, sliding it over so the other woman could see it. "We have your prints on the gun. We know you had a chance to stop all of this, and instead you decided to work with Dahmer."

Rhianna pasted on her innocent face as she tried to explain. "He wanted me to work with him and kept testing me. I was handed the gun, but I'd never use-"

"CSI found GSR on your hands," Juliet continued with grim satisfaction. "Which means you were holding a gun when it went off, which matches the statement we already have on file."

"Jeffery was right, the congenital really doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut," Rhianna muttered, seeming to not realize she'd spoken out loud. She continued to only speak to Lassiter as she gave her answer. "Jeffery shot his gun several times, surely some of that GR-stuff could have been from that? I'm sure he'll tell you the same thing."

Lassiter stared back impassively as Juliet slammed another photo down, showing Dahmer's body in the garage. "Your Jeffery's dead. He's not here to lie for you right now."

Rhianna's jaw dropped as she stared at the photo, and Juliet quickly placed more photos next to it, one of a darkly bruised neck, one of a cut up back, and one of an arm with enough skin removed to show the muscle underneath. "And these are going to be what the jury sees when they hear you talking about how the two men deserved their treatment because they wouldn't 'behave'." Rhianna gagged and looked away as Juliet played their last ace card. "And the doctors say Jack should wake up anytime. When his statement lines up with your other victims, you're going to be looking at ten years to life in prison. Are you sure you want to stick with your previous statement?"

Rhianna started shaking as she turned to glare at Juliet. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Jeffery was a genius, he was going to change the world, he was… You took him away! You're taking our work away! All for the sake of two criminals who don't know when to keep their mouths shut!"

"We're done here." Lassiter stood up and waited for Juliet to stalk past him as Rhianna broke down, crying over the picture of a murderer.