Archive of Our Own

All of the files on Jason Holden Dean and his crimes are public access, even photos. One could see the pictures of the bodies, the bombs, and the teen being dragged away by police. There were recordings of the trial, transcripts, police reports, and psychological analysis available to the general public if they knew where to look. It was very available to those with libraries, internet access, or a journalist pass card. In these files, names of minors who made it out alive and didn’t kill anyone were redacted.
     It was a great case to study if you were interested in murder, psychology, or scary stories which are why in 1989, the case spread like wildfire through news outlets about the horrific tragedy. The coverage felt like another Ted Bundy, and some were even suggesting such an idea. It exploded in relevancy for a year before everyone stopped caring. The trial was straightforward. There was no death sentence, no prison sentence at all, actually. Dean was put in a mental facility in Virginia and then dropped like a hot rock.
     Sherwood, of course, tried to learn from the event and even tried to sue Bud Dean. He settled the case quietly and then disappeared as if he’d never had a son at all. He has been going through an intense rebrand. The violent nature of his commercials didn’t rub viewers the right way anymore, and so everything became more professional. Bud Dean began to advertise his construction services too. Apparently, he also tried to file a restraining order on his own son, but the court shut it down.
     Victims were honored with a memorial garden at the front of the school that students liked to spit their gum into. Underneath the bleachers had been renamed “the bomb place” and students liked to got there for sex and drugs respectively. Unless affected, the horrors of the case were forgotten until Flemming used fake tears during the assembly. The only change it made to Westerburg was the required bomb drills, which were also made mandatory for every other school across the United States.
     Sherwood was accepting of gay kids, had a more forgiving attitude towards mean kids, and had a kink for suicides. Posters about bomb threats, freedom for sexualities, and suicide were hung up everywhere. They even covered anti-bullying posters that used to be ignored by all. The town was just as superficial as it used to be, just with a few more tourists trying to contact the dead students or ask around for Jason Dean’s unnamed girlfriend.
     Veronica Sawyer had changed schools, deciding to focus solely on her academics. She went to the best school her parents could afford. She broke the ban when she attended the University of Cincinnati to get a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. During her time in college, she interned for the police and observed trials. After a year of training, she applied for the FBI Academy.
      Martha and Heather McNamara attended college with her, but Martha wanted to write children’s books and Heather wanted to have her father’s company. After all of what they’d been through, they didn’t act like themselves. At least Veronica didn’t.
      Heather Chandler was poisoned with a drain cleaner. Her suicide note was faked and then passed out like candy. Heather was a bitch, it was easy to see why someone wanted her dead. Kurt Kelley and Ram Sweeney were shot naked in the graveyard. They were packaged as suicide for their gay love. Kurt and Ram were assholes, it was easy to see why someone wanted them dead. Heather Duke's wrists were slit by a home intruder. Her “suicide” note was two words and a copy of Moby Dick. Bud Dean was shot at, the Sawyers were nearly burnt alive in their home, and Westerburg was rigged to explode with Jason Dean inside of it. Notes were left at each site, and some of them were no longer fake suicide notes, rather declarations of love and rants about society.
      The police were called when the Sawyers realized that they were locked in their home that smelled like gasoline. Police were called when Veronica realized that there was a bomb at Westerburg. Police were called again when a student heard gunshots from somewhere in the school. Police were called when the Dukes found Heather's body and it was obvious that it wasn’t a suicide. A suicide hotline was called by a JD who said that he wanted to hurt himself and hurt others, too. The police took nearly an hour to arrive after the first call.
      Veronica was dragged away from her boyfriend who was rigged to a bomb in the football field. Dean was tacked to the ground by a member of the bomb squad. She was wrapped in a blanket and declared a hometown hero for fighting him off and calling the police. Dean was interrogated and told a version of the truth where he left Veronica out of it entirely. His psychological evaluation revealed that there was something wrong with him and then Bud Dean sent him to a private clinic and then never contacted his son again.
      There were reports from every news station, and they only ever interviewed Mrs. Flemming. The counselor played up her role in the story, saying that she was always suspicious and that she wishes he would have attended her health class. She spoke like a pastor who wanted to save his soul.
Veronica had lost weight since the events, only gaining it back in muscle during her training for the academy. She wanted to help people like her, she wanted to forget her own pain with others, she hoped that it was a karma type situation where she could wipe the blood off of her hands by catching other murderers. Maybe she could prevent more murders than she caused. That was the hope.

       He was gone - gone forever - he was never going to bother Veronica again. That’s what they’d promised her so she didn’t have to live in constant fear after he was taken away. Despite this promise, she was always scared anyway. Terrorized by shadows in her room, open windows, and long jackets that danced on windy days. She couldn’t go out with friends, she couldn’t date, she couldn’t stand rooms with open windows, she couldn’t live normally - so she didn’t. She chose to dedicate her life to stopping people like him, she chose to fill her mind with such horrible images that she would forget about what she saw - what she did.
      She was training with the FBI when it happened, and she was almost done with it. A fresh-faced recruit who’d already been cold as stone. Then those bastards, the very same badge that had told her she’d never had to see him again, dropped a bomb on her. She would have to see him, talk to him, think about him, listen to him, and be in a room with him again. She would have to think about those days, those people, and confront him while she did so.
     And now she could feel him. His hands running through her hair, tracing the outline of her figure, eventually settling on holding her hand like he did when he was nervous. She could feel his suffocating presence and his control over her, he held her on a leash. Her mind conjured his eyes, angry and imposing, wild and flat. As soon as she felt his hot, ragged breaths and the scalding heat from his freshly used revolver, she shuddered.
     Veronica said no, she’d admitted that she couldn’t handle it, and she knew she couldn’t do it. She should have said no again. She shouldn’t have given to the pleading looks, the desperation, and the gruesome details. She should’ve been disgusted at the bribes and the threats. The easily recognizable manipulation, the kind she’d been more than familiar with.
      “He’ll only cooperate with you, Sawyer.”
      “Sawyer, more people are going to die, none of us want that.”
      “He’s despicable, but we need him.”
      “You won’t go alone.”
      None of that convinced her. Not the money. Not the guaranteed spot. None of that was the reason why, no matter what she told herself as she scowled at her reflection in the mirror. Curiosity convinced her. She wanted to see him. She should have said no again, and she should’ve meant it.
      She felt the bile rise in her throat.

      “Sawyer! You’re late.” The other agent, Keefer, was angry. He pointed at his watch. Veronica stared at her shoes. Agent Benjamin Keefer was her assigned partner, they’d met a week before. He was the actual agent (the kind that graduated from the academy) that was supposed to keep her safe. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very patient, at all, but especially not with trainees. They’d promised not to let each other down, unfortunately, Veronica broke that promise pretty quickly.
      “Sorry,” She started more annoyed than she’d meant to, she cleared her throat. She hadn’t been sleeping well ever since they gave her the assignment. To be honest, she hadn’t slept well since Heather Chandler crashed through her coffee table. She decided to be honest with him. “Just not eager to -”
      “I know, and I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean a lot, but I could never understand what you must be going through,” He trailed off. Keefer was awkward yet genuine.  “Besides, it doesn’t really matter. They’re taking their damn time.”
        Veronica glanced at his feet - tapping. “How long have you been here?”
       “Came early by ‘bout fifteen minutes. Thought’d help.” He crossed and uncrossed his arms before he checked his watch. Veronica rolled her eyes but stayed silent. Keefer was all about efficiency, and usually rushed things as a result. The FBI was no place to rush things, Veronica supposed he was too hasty to work alone.
       She followed him into the clinic, a large dark building that was built as plainly as possible. It was a rather inconspicuous building with few windows that were usually crowded by sullen faces. In the morning it was quite peaceful, save the employees walking in, rushing to their posts. Keefer pulled the door open, holding it open for Veronica. She nodded at him and hoped it came off as a thank you. She sat on the middle row of identical chairs that were padded, but still hard as a board and too stiff to be comfortable.
         Keefer paced across the floor, back and forth as if he were a ping-pong ball. The lights were bright and his shadow jumped from wall to wall as he walked left and right. The secretary, doing paperwork at the reception desk, occasionally glanced up to glare wearily at him.
        The cold lights hung from a high, imposing ceiling, and buzzed like insects. It was uncomfortable - artificial. There were furniture and magazines to simulate comfort, but it came across as forced and unnatural. People sat on the chairs, sinking into the firm chairs from sheer exhaustion. It was too early for the bustle of visitors, but the hurry of doctors occasionally made the building seem alive.
        It was a private clinic, personalized service, as well as personalized decoration, was paid for entirely out of the pockets of the families of the sick. Everything was more personally run which meant being a government agent didn’t have quite as much pull as it did in most hospitals. The building was probably so plain because the care for the patients was so expensive. Veronica supposed that it was a good way to prioritize especially given recent bills surrounding mental health facilities.
         Keefer, in a gust of wind, sat down beside Veronica. He straightened his clothes and dusted off imaginary dust. He leaned in, not too close, but close enough to whisper the words she’d been dreading, “He’s ready.”
         The secretary called them over, Veronica read the plaque on the desk. “The patient will see you now,” Miss Thompson said brusquely, her mouth was pressed into a thin line. Keefer nodded once, it was solid and professional, hiding how antsy he was. Veronica’s stomach churned, her legs wobbled beneath her as her heartbeat in her throat.
        A male nurse appeared in the doorway and looked them over, “Follow me.” Veronica’s mouth went dry. She mumbled a farewell to the secretary, who was clearly pleased to be rid of them for the time being, but still wary of their presence.
         “I think at this point I know where we’re going to interview him,” Keefer mumbled, indignant. The nurse ignored him completely.
         With every turn they made and every door they passed, Veronica felt less like herself. The Veronica Sawyer she wanted to be would turn around on a dime, and never even think about him again. That, though tempting, was more selfish than she’d admit aloud. People could die, it rang through her head as a mantra of sorts.
         “I’ll now go over the rules for your convenience,” The nurse’s voice cut through the silence like a butcher’s knife. “Don’t touch the patient. Don’t antagonize the patient. Don’t stress the patient out. Don’t -”
         “Sir, I respect your rules and will follow them, but I already know them all,” Keefer’s eyebrow twitched. The nurse turned to look at him incredulously. Veronica sucked in a breath. Even though he claimed to be a seasoned agent, Veronica knew he was decently new to the scene - which meant he made the occasional mistake. She felt this was one of them.
         “Don’t interrupt, Agent Keefer,” The nurse said as he lifted his chin.
         “I mean,” Keefer continued, nonchalant. “I’ve been here -”
        "Five times, I’m aware,” The nurse responded like a rock shattering a window. “And yet every time you seem to break at least one rule. You’re lucky the patient is so well-behaved.”
         “Well-behaved? He’s a murderer.”
         “Yet I’d still talk to him over you,” The nurse snapped. He regained his composure before sighing in defeat. “Just listen to Eddie this time.”
Keefer nodded with a discreet eye-roll. Veronica attempted to breathe again, her chest heavy. It’s as though a hand is forcing her chest down, not letting her breathe, and she feels like she’s dying. She’d been scared by movies and filled with dread by testing. But this was real fear, this was real suspense. With every step, he gets closer.
       Jason Dean - the only thing that truly made Veronica’s skin crawl. He, on the one hand, was handsome, charming, and smart. However, he was also arrogant, angry, suffocating, and extremely vicious. He could go from the man of Veronica’s stupid highschool fantasies to a sadistic killer in a second and back again before Veronica could come to her senses and leave him. Just being near him gave Veronica vertigo that confused her to no end. There was no up, there was no down, no wrong, no right - just JD.
        He was turbulent and controlling. He was full of crippling self-hatred which manifested gruesomely in the way he treated the people around him, but could also make her feel so much of his hurt. She wanted to help him, save him. He could make Veronica pity him. He could make her trust him. He could make her love him.
        Perhaps that’s what was most dangerous about JD. The way he could manipulate her emotions. The way he’d make her love him, fear him, trust him, and pity him while she was supposed to be livid at him. The way he’d drag her around like a rag-doll.
       Or perhaps Veronica was just a moron like Heather always said she was. Veronica was so stupid that she could be easily tricked by an erotomaniac spree killer with pretty green eyes. Maybe there was absolutely nothing remarkable about him at all.
        In her demonizing of him, he’d put him on a pedestal of sorts. She seemed to exaggerate just how clever, how handsome, how powerful he was. He’s grown to become a monster in her closet. She treated him like a supernatural threat, a demon that threatened the very existence of all things good in the world even though, ultimately, if that were true, she wouldn’t even be standing in the halls of his mental hospital. The mental hospital he was forced into after he was arrested.
He’d been the one who lost. That comforted Veronica if only slightly, and even managed to calm her nerves somewhat. Which was also stupid, Veronica was supposed to be the smart reasonable one. She was a genius. She was level-headed. Yet here she was wanting to break down and cry like a child.
         She was pulled from her musings and met Keefer’s wide-eyed gaze, eyebrows pulled into a concerned-but-annoyed stare. “Sawyer?” She nodded.
        He began slowly, sternly as if she was a child - no, like she was a victim. A feeling that Veronica has detested since what JD had done to her. “I’m going in, alright? I’m going to try my hardest to keep you out of there, okay?” He licked his lips and looked down his body to make sure he was presentable. He ran a hand through his hair, rocking back and forth on his heels.
        He clearly was trying to be nicer to her now that Jason Dean was just in the next room - he obviously knew she was nervous. Veronica honestly felt uncomfortable with the idea of Keefer expressing any form of emotion (though he currently was very nervous - it was painfully obvious, and Veronica herself wasn’t terrified she might’ve laughed at the display). She nodded again at her partner to confirm she’d understood him.
       He took a breath before a thin, but genuine, smile spread across his face. He spun on his heels to face the oak door, that she knew was reinforced with steel on the inside of it to keep it sound (and escape) proof, and white-knuckled his briefcase with both hands before pushing the door open.
        And just like that, her partner, the only person keeping her grounded, was gone. Veronica couldn’t even see JD, but just knowing - really knowing - he was behind that door made her sick. She needed to hold the wall to steady herself. It almost didn’t feel real, but then would hit her, and nausea washed over her.
        She fought herself to not pointlessly try to listen through the door. If by the slim chance, she could avoid him entirely, she would. For her own peace of mind, she knew she shouldn’t even listen to his voice.
       She wondered if it was still a raspy whisper that became a biting yell when he was upset. The way he’d yelled had been so unusual to her, especially the first time he’d yelled at her. Before that she didn’t even think he could get mad - he’d seemed so laid back. Which had just made it more terrifying to her. She felt light-headed.
        The nurse offered her a reassuring look, she’d supposed he’d have to stay outside the door for the whole interview. “No matter what happens, you’ll be alright.”
        His voice was sure, calming, and, for a moment, Veronica believed him. Before she could think better of it, she was talking. “You don’t understand he’s -”
       “I know, I have to know. I’m one of his nurses. I know all about him. Believe me, he won’t hurt you. He can’t hurt you. They strap him down and give him medication, it’s our job to keep him calm and happy, even.”
        She nodded. She swallowed trying to get moisture back into her mouth. She wanted to believe him.
       “Believe me, dear, he’s not interested in anyone in the slightest.” Veronica nodded along to his words. He continued. “I know his case is intimidating, but he’s only really interested in one girl.”
         Veronica’s blood went cold.
        “All he ever talks about is ‘his Vee,’ who we assume was the minor involved in his crimes. Can’t ever learn her name though.” The nurse chuckled nervously.
        The room was spinning, and it wouldn’t stop. The world was violently trying to throw her off the face of the planet, and she had nothing to hold on to. Her breathing was quick and uneven, everything felt so heavy but so weightless. She felt the blood rushing through her veins - her head was pounding. She tried to compose herself, but she was trembling, trembling like a baby. She couldn’t cry, not like this, but oh, God! JD had been talking about her for years. He’d never let her go. He’d never let her go. He’d never let her go.
         She felt dizzy. She was going to puke. She was going to die.
        The nurse suddenly was gripping her shoulders. “ . . . can you . . .” He was trying to talk to her, but all she could hear was her own pathetic wheezes and whimpers as she gasped for air, and oh, God, she was drowning. “ . . . look at . . . breathe . . . me . . . what’s . . . okay? . . .”
         It was like listening to the nurse through glass. Finally, words formed in her useless, clammy mouth, “I need to use the bathroom.”
        The nurse seemed caught off guard. “Look . . . can’t leave . . . post . . . left hall . . . a right . . . call . . . need me, okay?” She nodded numbly and immediately set for the bathroom, her wobbly legs barely carrying her.
         He couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t hurt her. Not anymore.
         She took a turn down the left hall.
        But she could still hear him yelling, and she still could smell the blood, gunpowder, and his (stereotypically) vanilla cologne that used to make her giggle and roll her eyes. JD hadn’t been real, his persona was fake - she should’ve seen right through him.
         When she was younger Veronica couldn’t get any boys to look at her - let alone a hot boy. So when JD looked at her with genuine interest with his deep green eyes, she was weak. She had to talk to him, she needed him. He was smart, more than just the typical asshole from Sherwood. He was a mystery that had so much of a draw in a small town where everyone knew everyone. His stupid moody poetry, his stupid motorcycle, his lack of helicopter parents, and his endless devotion to her. He was like a drug to her stupid hormone driven fantasies - fantasies that he exploited every moment they were together.
          She looked up and down the hall for the bathroom sign clearly labeled ‘Visitors.’
         Veronica used to write about him in a diary that she’d written about her own life in beforehand, and after him, it was just a romantic account of every aspect of him. He used to write poems for her daily that he left in her locker. She still had all of them kept in a shoebox that she kept in her closet. Occasionally, she was tempted to read them, but she never gave in to the want.
          She barreled into the bathroom, the door slammed against the wall before wheezing shut behind her.
She’s scared that if she reads them, she’ll be hypnotized again. The way he’d captivated her was criminal on it’s own. The way he could slap her, cut her, and even burn her, and she’d forgive him for it. Though she was too ashamed to admit, sometimes she liked the thrill of not knowing if he’d scream at her or kiss her.
She treated the stall door as roughly as she treated the bathroom door.
          But she could almost ignore that in comparison to her guiltiest feeling - she was flattered by his confession of the murders for her. Heather was right, and Veronica was disgusting. Sometimes she heard them - Duke, Chandler, Kurt, and Ram. She could hear them now, laughing at her. Calling her fitting adjectives that were punctuated with angry curses.
         She threw up, the red hot sting in her throat finally being relieved. Tears spilled over the rim of her eyes and mixed with the hideous display. She puked until there was nothing left. She sat next to the toilet until her sobs quieted. She wanted to sit there forever.

         Veronica had returned to the door of the interview after she’d freshened up in the bathroom. Keefer had been in the room for nearly half an hour, but she had no clue if he was making any progress. The nurse had left her side once to get water, and for those two short minutes, she was shaky and heard the laughter again.
However, most of the emotion was gone - it’d left her body with her breakfast. She was entirely numb, almost entirely apathetic. She just wanted to be at home out of mere exhaustion.
        The door opened with a sigh from her partner. Keefer’s eyes met hers with an apologetic glint. “It’s just not happening. He’s not talking, and when he does - it’s not to me. I think you’re going to have to come in. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t tell if he was upset because he couldn’t do it himself and that injured his pride or if he was genuinely sorry.
        Veronica was stunned for a moment that seemed to last hours. Even though she’d seen it coming, she hadn’t anticipated it. She couldn’t handle considering it as a real option. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got this.”
        She wasn’t sure if she was telling it to herself or Keefer. Keefer’s eyes turned hopeful while still retaining his sorrow. “Glad to hear it.”
        He opened the door fully for her. “Now, I’ll try to do the talking first. You’ll start as an incentive, not an interrogation method, okay?” Veronica nodded firmly.
Keefer strode into the room, Veronica followed with a nervous gate. She still felt nervous, even scared, but the emotions were buried by fatigue and adrenaline. She kept her head down until she’d heard it.
        A soft gasp. Veronica’s eyes immediately located the source.
       The interrogation room was a fairly small room with a single, high rectangular window in the corner. In the center of the room was a table with three chairs around it. Two chairs (they faced the direction of the window) were empty, while across from them was a third chair. On the wall furthest from the door was a fourth chair, it sat closer to the side of the lone chair at the table. The whole room was painted in depressing shades of gray, the floor was carpeted.
       JD sat at the table, his body leaned back into his chair. His thin, sharp shoulders sagging downward towards his hands that rested on his lap. He was wearing a pair of mittens that didn’t have any place for his thumbs, the fabric was thick - it was impossible for him to use his hands. There was a belt at his waist that held his wrists to his sides, the belt was chained to the floor. He was entirely immobile. Behind him stood an older man wearing scrubs, his personal nurse. Veronica supposed the aid's name was Eddie, the man Keefer didn’t listen to, apparently. Eddie held JD’s shoulder lightly in a fatherly way.
      JD looked almost exactly as she remembered him, his hair had the same cut - but shorter, neater. He was smaller - skinnier - than he was in high school; Veronica figured that he must only have around half as much muscle as he’d used to. All off his piercings had been stripped from him, he’d no longer looked like the punk kid who’d sung The Clash with her as they listened to music in her bedroom. He no longer looked like he could easily strangle her to death, something that she had considered when they were dating.
      His face was almost exactly the same as it was just years before. The only noticeable changes were a slightly lighter olive-toned tan and a pronounced scar on his forehead. His lips were still just as rosy and chapped as they’d always been, and his teeth were still a light, barely visible, shade of yellow from his smoking addiction that appeared to have been cut short. His jaw was set naturally, slightly crooked - the way it was when it showed off his dimples. She used to think his dimples were adorable, she’d stick her fingers in them while he’d smiled at her. Veronica’s eyes settled on a freckle that she recalled running her fingers over, a touch that he’d complained tickled.
        An uneven smile played on JD’s lips as his eyes were dead-set on Veronica’s, obviously thinking about kissing her - she was disgusted at the idea. He cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward eagerly, but slowly, as she approached the table, hands still shaking. A contented hum seeped from JD’s throat.
       Keefer pushed himself in between the two of them, catching JD’s attention, but only for a second. JD’s gaze returned to Veronica. Keefer sneered at the younger man, his tone was steely and cut like a blade. “You can talk to her after you talk to me, deal?”
       JD dropped his smirk, his eyes widened to the size of plates, but still sarcastic and playful. Keefer leaned in closer to the criminal. “Do we have a deal?” He spoke through gritted teeth.
      JD’s smile returned with a vengeance as a wide, toothy grin. He shook his head so violently that Veronica thought his head might pop off and roll across the floor. He rocked back and forth as he shook his head, but only a minute amount. All with that stupid smile as he wheezed out a single choked laugh. Eddie steadied him gently like a mother might stop a young child from acting out.
       “Why not? Don’t you want to talk to her?” Keefer pried, he tried to make his irritated tone more gentle - he sounded like he was scolding a toddler.
       JD replied, voice raspy - barely above his breath. He shook his head slowly as he was focusing on something past the two agents. “I need to talk to her. She needs to talk to me. I need to talk to her. I need to. She needs me. I need her. I need her. I need -” He spoke in his voice, but with a tone, Veronica had only heard once before when he was pleading her to get away from him on the football field.
       “Answer my questions then,” Keefer’s tone was harsh again, no disguising it. “You two will talk, but only if we talk first.”
       JD straightened himself, breathing steady. His head twitched to his left side, then slightly to the right, and then to the left. He tapped his feet in an odd pattern.
       Tap. Tap. Taptap. Tap. Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptap. Taptaptaptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
       The tapping got faster and faster as the occasional tap of his foot was punctuated with a twitch of his head, seemingly at random. Veronica shifted uncomfortably.
      JD stopped abruptly. He restored his easy-going grin. “Hey, Vee,” His voice was like shards of glass coated in honey. He winked, and a flame danced behind his eyes. “Long time, no see.”
       Keefer slammed his palms onto the table, but without anger. “Not a part of negotiations - sorry.”
      JD raised both of his eyebrows to his hairline, shutting his eyes in disbelief. JD pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as scoff escaped his mouth. His mouth was pulled into a tight smirk as if it was so shocking that he was scolded that it was funny. It was a look Veronica recognized: his calm before his storm.
       JD spoke again, clipped - aggravated. “Fine, let’s negotiate.”
      Keefer forced a smile. “Great. Let’s be civil.” Veronica recognized the intimidation tactic of standing while JD was still sitting, and quietly thought to herself that it wasn’t very civil.
      “Oh, of course, Agent,” JD’s face settled in a blank stare, but his voice was lively and sarcastic. “What else would you expect from me?”
      “Alright, first item: you’re only talking to me right now,” Keefer started them off. “Not Sawyer.”
      “Just because she’s a pretty little lady doesn’t mean she’s a prize to be won, jackass. She’s a person.”
      “I wouldn’t have to treat her like an object if you didn’t think of her as one.” The agent replied in an even tone.
      “I resent what you’re implying, Mr. Agent, sir,” JD exaggerated innocence to an infuriating degree. Keefer nodded, debating on how to reply.
      “Because you love her?” Keefer provided the words as if he were just continuing JD’s thought.
      “Yes, because I love her,” His voice is pitch-shifted upwards - desperate, but assured. “And she loves me, by the way.”
      She didn’t - not anymore.
     “You’d do anything for her?” Keefer prompted further.
      JD shrugged. “She’d do the same for me.” Veronica’s stomach twisted - she’d never kill for him.
    “While that’s important, I’m not asking about her - I’m asking you.” Keefer must’ve had a plan because he’d calmed down significantly. Veronica couldn’t help but be nervous about whatever he thought was a good idea but trusted him regardless.
     “I don’t like talking about just me. I’m not me without her - just like she’s not herself without me,” JD looked at Veronica, hopelessly delusional. “I hope we’ve made that clear.”
     “Can we talk about your love then? Your relationship?” Keefer was steady and calm, excitement only visible in the lack of attention he gave his watch. Veronica knew that this was his sixth attempt and the fact that it was finally working made him forget about her trauma entirely. He didn’t try to make her comfortable, and Veronica appreciated that.
    “What about it?” JD grumbled through clenched teeth.
    Keefer repositioned himself with minor flourish, but Veronica figured it was because he was already picturing his peers' approval. He kept one arm behind his back as he leaned on the table, looking down at JD. “Do you remember what you did in Sherwood? I want to talk to you about it.” The crime scenes, the gore, the death. The suicide notes.
     Eddie seemed to be trying to ignore the conversation, Veronica wondered if he was squeamish as his hold on JD tightened. Keefer spoke first. “You killed those kids right?”
     “Yes.” The answer was far away.
     “Why?”
    “I love her. I had to if I loved her. And I do. I really do.”
    “You did all that for her,” Keefer said plainly. “That’s a lot of passion. Did you base it off of anything?”
    “What?”
    “Did you copy anyone?” Keefer clarified.
    JD frowned. “No. I planned it all out for her. I just did what was most convenient. I did what was believable.”
    “All for her?”
    “All for her. I do everything for her.” Veronica swallowed.
    “Well, I -”
   “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you, Vee? I’ve been so patient,” JD’s voice went from breathy to a growl for emphasis. “I’ve just been here - waiting. You were supposed to help me. We’re in this together, Veronica. They poke me, they prod me. And worst yet the good ol’ government thinks I’ll tell them things - they send these morons in at least once every week!”
    He pulled against his restraints, thrashing like a caught fish being reeled into its death. Desperation, hope, and rage boiled out of him - it was almost tangible. Before Veronica could comprehend it, he was screaming. He cursed at Keefer, his lower register almost sounding like the bark of a dog. Occasionally he’d shriek as if he were dying.
Eddie grabbed both of JD’s shoulders and shoved him back into his seat. He leaned down to whisper in his ear. JD’s screams were quieted until it was just silence. Veronica watched as Eddie lulled him into a docile state by only speaking to him.
    “These Feds, Vee, they want to hurt me. They want to make me forget, but I remember - I can’t forget. I-I can’t. I’ve tried.”
    “I told you not to talk to her, Jason” Keefer crossed his arms, unimpressed by his tantrum. JD held his gaze on Keefer, eyes narrowing, lips curling into an animal-esque sneer.
     JD struggled to get out of Eddie’s grasp again. “Don’t talk to me like a child -”
     “Treat me and my partner with respect.” Keefer still spoke to him like a teacher disciplining an unruly first grader.
     “‘Partner?’ Excuse me? She -”
    “Is my partner. Agent Sawyer is my partner,” Keefer still kept that threatening calm. JD only laughed in response, a bitter sound. Keefer didn’t budge, he continued staring directly into the younger man’s eyes.
    “My Vee would never join you. I told her - she knows. She’s not a damn Fed,” JD seemed satisfied with his answer.
    “Well then I suppose she’s not ‘your Vee,’ is she?” Keefer leaned in even closer, failing to hide his smirk.
    “Don’t you even fucking -” JD looked feral, a kind of anger that she’d seen only once before. A kind of psychotic that was burned into her memory.
     Veronica spoke before she could think. “Can I talk to JD for a second?” Keefer made a very angry ‘go right ahead’ motion. She shooed him for more space, Keefer went to the back of the room. JD leaned in as close to Veronica as he could physically manage. She kept a safe distance. “Um, JD, I am a part of the FBI, but I’m doing it for us, babe -” she forced herself not to cringe “- I’m going to get you out, okay? They think I’m one of them.” She tried to convince herself to talk to him like when they were in high school.
     JD hung onto every word she said, nodding frantically. Veronica tried not to feel bad about lying - especially not about lying to him. This is to save lives, she reminded herself. She took another breath before running with another lie to seal it all in. “My plan will only work if you cooperate, though. So I need your help, okay? Just answer the questions. It’ll be easy -” her stomach sunk “- and then we’ll be together forever. It’s a small price for our happiness.” JD nodded dumbly, a lovesick smile plastered on his face. She shouldn’t have felt more guilty about lying to the King of Lies than she did after killing Heather Chandler. Eddie cocked an eyebrow at her.
      “I can do that, babe. Of course, I’ll do that for you.” And just like that, she felt like she was in highschool again. She felt like they were on a date and she’d just asked if she could copy his history notes. JD winked in that way only he could. “After all, what’re boyfriends for?”
      Veronica forced down her gag. She turned around to where Keefer was tapping his foot in the corner, she motioned for him to come back. He rolled his eyes and sped over. “Are you done with your private chat yet?”
       “We are,” Veronica wondered how to tell Keefer that there was no need to continue with his plan anymore. If she whispered to him, would it spook JD? JD seemed to trust her implicitly, so couldn’t she just conduct the investigation herself?
       “And I’m ready to talk, Agent Antsy,” JD deadpanned. Veronica couldn’t believe her half-baked, panic-induced plan was actually working. “Fire away.”
      “Do you know why we’re talking to you?” Keefer took a seat across from JD. “Of course that is a rhetorical question. You’ve never gotten very far in this interview before.” He forced a passive-aggressive smile. Veronica had been told about what JD would do in interrogations he had no intention of responding to - or every single interrogation since his initial one right after being arrested (in which he revealed almost everything about the crime) - screaming, yelling, passing out, biting himself until he bleeds (which included trying to bite off his own tongue), and claiming that the interviewer had touched him after his aid left.
       “Let me make it simple for you,” Keefer set down two case files with a pronounced plop. “This is your file. As you can see it contains everything we know about you. Your childhood home details, your petty crimes as a kid, your assault charges, and the murders. This file is public access and was even used in many articles written about your crimes. So anyone who wants to can see this file, okay?”
       JD nodded, before staring at his nurse. Eddie was politely looking away, not wanting to see the brutal murders that JD was responsible for - there was a lot of overkill in the more personal murders at the end. Eddie wanted to help JD, but he can’t if he’s disgusted by his existence, Veronica guessed. However, she thought that he should know just how terrible JD was - no one should pity him.
      “Well,” Keefer tapped a second file. “A girl stumbled upon it and is very interested in what you’ve done. Her name is Karen Roseman, and she has killed six people - already following your exact pattern.
       “What I’m trying to say is: you’ve got a copycat killer. Allow me to explain, she killed her mother on November 12th (the same day you murdered Heather Chandler), and she, like you, used drain cleaner. She’d made it look like a suicide, like you, but she used the same note you wrote for Heather, not changing a single word. After that it was all the same aside from the victims: November 15th, her best friends, gun, same note as for Kelley and Sweeney. November 20th, she broke into a stranger’s house to bleed her out with a note and a copy of Moby Dick. November 23rd she pushed a stranger off of a bridge for Dunstock and then hung another from a very public tree for Sawyer. November 24th, she shot a complete stranger like when you shot at your father - she left the same letter you left for Veronica but addressed to you. She set a house on fire with no casualties and no note. Now all that’s left is -”
        “The bomb,” JD finished for him. “I don’t understand. I rigged that school for Vee, so what’s she going to do?”
       “We don’t know, this whole time she’s been moving North. Where she’s going is a mystery, but she isn’t going the right way to end in Sherwood.” Keefer says steadily. “She’s doing this for you, we think. We don’t know what a final act for you would be, hence we are asking you.”
       “I’m confused - she’s doing this for me? We’ve never met,” JD stared at Veronica and her partner for answers. “I don’t understand.” He seemed weirdly innocent, like he’d never hurt anyone. He was nervous like he wasn’t being worshipped because of the murders he committed and the terrorism he attempted.
      “It’s to pay tribute to you, I suppose. She thinks what happened to you was unjust and also seems to be delusionally in love with you.” As Veronica listened to this description, she found it disturbing that Karen was so similar to how she’d felt about JD in highschool. She and Karen we’re ultimately the same kind of stupid, it’s just that, somehow, Karen was worse. “She thinks that you were just troubled and that if you had her - you wouldn’t have done what you did. She empathizes with you to a concerning degree. She pities you. She’s an expert on your murders, your rampage spree. We can only guess that this is because she needs a form of escapism.”
      “That’s disgusting. I guess I’ll help you try to find what she’s going to blow up.” JD crossed and uncrossed his legs. His head twitched again. He tugged against his restraints. The murderer was disturbed that she would kill for such a shallow reason, especially because he only had eyes for Veronica. “Just tell me where she is, I can figure it out.”
       “She started in North Carolina, and she’s moving North. We’re searching, but can’t find her.” Keefer stated matter of factly, he turned to smirk at Veronica. “Not yet, at least.
     “If she’s been traveling by foot since her last murder she could be anywhere within this radius, but if she’s driven at all, she could be anywhere in this radius (conveniently marked on the map for you). So, what do you know in this radius? Think back on it. Think hard. She’s going to try tomorrow.” Keefer pushed the map across the table far enough that JD could view it easily.
     “I . . .” JD trailed off and sat perfectly still for a moment, the only thing moving was his mouth as he mumbled to himself. His eyes darted from left to right, up and down. His mouth twitched - sometimes upwards, sometimes bordering scowl. “I’ve got nothing.
     “I was born in North Carolina, my mom died in Texas, and she’s not going the right way for that. And she’s nowhere near. . . I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything.”
“Then let’s try something else,” Keefer took the maps away. “Why did you do it? Any of it?”
     JD turned to look at him with a crazed expression. He appeared to be mildly insulted, but excited. “‘Why did I do it?’ Isn’t it obvious?” Keefer shook his head, he held a blank expression.
     “I did it for her - for us. All of those disgusting, insufferable animals were trying to hurt us. Trying to watch us. Trying to keep me away from her. They fear knowledge - they hate the truth. They knew I was protecting her, they had to get rid of me! But I wouldn’t let them. So I started with who was controlling her, then who was assaulting her, who was rude to her, who was trying to replace me, who was keeping us apart, and then - do you wanna know why I was going to blow up that fucking hellhole? I was going to save her! That school represented everything wrong with society and humanity as a whole. That school was holding her back, stealing her from me. So I made a plan - we’d pretend we died with them as a final suicide pack to send them back to Hell.” His eyes were wide, and he was thrashing against his restraints again - convulsing and contorting like a man possessed. His face began to turn red, and Eddie tried to hold him down again. “We’re not alone! We’re not alone! They wanted me dead! I had to act first!”
     Veronica winced, stepping back, she saw his fists curl and uncurl underneath his mittens. Keefer just stood next to her calm, waiting. JD continued. “You understand why I had to, right? They needed to die how they’d lived - they’d needed to die how they’d lived!” He was hysterical, breaking down into hideous, heaving sobs. Eddie asked them to give JD more space, his voice was low and comforting.
     Veronica never remembered him saying anything like that to her. He used to make some sort of deranged sense. He used to be clever and concise. Now he screamed nonsense as he sobbed about romance. He used to see more than Veronica, he wanted to change the world. He wanted to rebel against the country and punish the people who were wrong, but now he was something else. He was just a sad maniac in what he thought love was.
     She always wondered if it was because of his mother or his father or if it was just him. She considered that it happened for no reason at all. Maybe it was her fault. Veronica didn’t think there ever could be a good reason.
      JD shrieked and sobbed as the two agents backed away. Eddie bent down to his eye level to try to talk to him. JD didn’t even acknowledge the other man. “I needed to protect her! I needed to save her! She was trapped in her own home - no one deserves to be locked up! No one understands. We’re not alone!” JD was like an animal ready to chew through his leg to escape captivity.
       Keefer smiled, he bobbed up and down on his heels. “Just what we needed.”
       Confused and afraid, Veronica turned to face her partner. Her voice came out flat and annoyed. “What are you talking about?”
       Keefer sped over to the other side of JD, much closer than Eddie advised. JD turned to look at him, shaking with rage, heaving breaths - Eddie tried to pull JD’s face back towards him. JD resisted, eyes large and feral. Eddie glared at Keefer with genuine anger. “Leave him. Leave him, now. You’re making it worse.”
     Keefer entirely ignored the nurse entirely, Veronica watched in horror. “What is it you said, ‘no one deserves to be locked up?’” Keefer was grinning like a madman. “Would you say that you’re being locked up, held captive?”
       JD leaned closer to Keefer and gnashed his teeth. Keefer smiled giddily at Veronica, “Sawyer, does it say where he was institutionalized in his file?”
      Veronica nodded. The file had been quite honest about his fat cat dad shipping away to a private clinic to be forgotten about. Keefer’s smile turned wicked, he turned back to face JD. “You stupid bastard, she’s going to burn this place down. She wants to free you.”
      JD started laughing wildly, “I don’t need her to set me free!” Veronica shifted uncomfortably. As Veronica had recalled he had different personalities, and different masks he’d put on to hide his soul. A soul that Veronica had discovered to be a scared, confused child who had clung to the idea of Veronica as a beacon of sorts. However, that part of JD seemed to be worn on his sleeve, everything else was a molten monster of hideous façades. He was a pathetic, psychopathic mess. Keefer stood and turned to look back at Veronica.
    “That’s it, Sawyer. That’s all we needed. We can go.” JD’s laughter was cut short. He was hurt, betrayed, at the thought of Veronica leaving. He tried to smile, tried to laugh it off. Veronica felt very uncomfortable.
     “You can’t leave,” He scoffed. “I need to talk to Vee first. You said - you promised.”
     “You never agreed to my terms. A deal goes two ways, Mr. Dean,” Keefer was putting back his files, getting ready to leave. JD looked confused, annoyed, and shocked. He looked around the room frantically.
    “Please don’t leave me, Vee,” His face was red and blotchy, his glossy eyes staring into Veronica’s. “I can’t handle being alone here. They don’t let me talk to other patients. I live in a white, padded room - please, stay. Please. I’m not alone - I’m not alone. They won’t let me die. I just want to kill myself.”
      Veronica looked at him gently, she continued with her lie. “You know why I have to leave, JD.”
     JD smiled sheepishly as Eddie pet his hair, trying desperately to calm him down. “Oh, right. Yeah, I know.” JD’s face darkened to a scowl - he looked Veronica dead in the eye. “Just don’t leave for too long.”
      Veronica nodded at JD and then turned to leave. “Ms. Sawyer?”
     She turned to face Eddie, who stared right through her. “Yes?”
     “Please, don’t lie to the patient,” Eddie said softly. Why shouldn’t she lie to him?
     She shook her head as Keefer pulled her out of the room. The two walked in silence to their cars. They passed through the quiet halls and through the mourning waiting room. They parted ways in the parking lot - Keefer on the phone with his director, on his way back to the police station where they’d been working the case. Veronica was going home. She tried to erase JD from her memory entirely. She hated him and had no intention of keeping her promise to help him escape.
      JD waited patiently for her return.