Word Count: 503
Summary: He never left his white room a second time.
Prompt: Jane/Sophie Miller, Insanity Plea
Written for x_trazzle_x Happy Holidays, my love! <3
Bad news never had good timing.
Heart of Life, John Mayer
Heart of Life, John Mayer
Sophie Miller hadn’t expected to see Patrick Jane again.
It wasn’t something unheard of, really. Most doctors never saw their patients again, and after their last “chance” meeting (which hadn’t really been a chance at all, considering she had been the one to place the call)—she had never tried to contact him again.
Then again, Sophie Miller hadn’t expected Patrick Jane to kill a man in cold blood either and she certainly hadn’t expected to find Teresa Lisbon (the senior agent) on her doorstep, after an especially long day at the psychiatric hospital.
Teresa acted as if she had the weight of the world bearing down on her shoulders, and Sophie knew in that moment, as she let the woman into her life (yet again), that something bad had happened.
The conversation hadn’t lasted too long; Teresa was a woman of blunt words—Jane killed somebody he believes is Red John three days ago—and had no qualms about asking for personal favors—Jane needs your help. I’m afraid the courts will convict him, without either a ruling of self-defense or a ruling of insanity.
Either defense would be tricky to prove, but only one needed her—a licensed psychiatrist—to prove a point.
So, she did what any good doctor would do.
She agreed to talk to him.
I can hear you pull me down.
Sophie hadn’t expected to see Patrick Jane behind bars, a smile—deranged, if she really had to put a name to it—sprawled across his face.
He has been silent since we first brought him in, the guard had announced upon her arrival before opening his cell, and allowing her to step in.
Patrick doesn’t glance up from the floor, and she cleared her throat. Patrick? It’s me, Sophie.
His eyes focus on her—pupils dilated, and breathing shallow and his smile grows—cold, and sinister. Hello Sophie, you are looking extremely beautiful today.
The last time they had exchanged words, he kissed her cheek and she had feelings.
This time, she doesn’t want to look at him. Patrick, they are saying you killed a man. Did you?
Did I? He responds in a child-like voice. Did I? The innocence is wiped clean from his voice. You’re the good doctor, you tell me.
This isn’t you, Patrick. She tried to reason.
Oh, but it is! Sophie. He cackled in pure delight, before he stood from his make-shift cot. You shouldn’t blame yourself, just so you know. Teresa had no idea either. He darkly laughed. It’s a sickness, which must run its course.
The idea that he believed himself to be a monster sickened him. Patrick Jane was a good man.
The Patrick Jane she had known was not a monster.
Tomorrow might be good for something.
Unwell, Matchbox Twenty
Sophie Miller hadn’t expected to treat Patrick Jane again, but she did.
He never left his white room a second time.