Talk to Me [The Mentalist]

10

I was terribly exhausted.

Lying on top of the white sheets I didn't have had enough energy to pull them over myself.

All I wanted was to sleep, but then again I couldn't without having nightmares.

So I kept staring at the white ceiling. My head hurt awfully. There were dazzling points in front of my eyes. I hadn't blinked in a long time.

I just couldn't close my eyes.

I didn't know how long I was lying there. But at some point my door opened and I heard footsteps. I didn't move at all. "Patrick." It was Sophie. I'd assumed so. "You need to move. It won't help you to just stare at the wall." I didn't move. "You're eyes are already red. They must hurt like hell."

A tear formed in the corner of my eye and finally fell out. Apparently that was a sign to Sophie, because she approached my bed and knelt next to it. She put her hand on my arm.

"Patrick. You need to move. It will soothe at least the physical pain." I knew she was right. I felt similar to the horrible night, where I had sat crouched next to my beloved ones.

I moved my head towards her. My neck cracked once and I felt the stiffness. "Okay, now sit up, okay?" She encouraged me. A try wouldn't hurt, right? Just one try. I pushed my elbows slightly under me und heaved myself up a bit.

She stabilized my back until I reached a sitting position. Then she left her spot on the floor and sat next to me on my bed. I watched her serious expression.

"Everything you tell me will stay a secret with me. You can tell me everything and no one will ever know about it. You need to know that, okay?" I nodded, not just because I believed Sophie, but I knew therapists had to vow to keep their patients' secrets.

"I promise you that you will get better. I won't say that the pain over your loss will ever cease, but I know that it will get bearable. And to achieve this I am here for you to help you." She watched me with a serious but gentle expression.

I nodded again. Don't trying to tell me the pain would ease was a good way to win my sympathy. Sophie spoke true. She seemed to have great knowledge in her metier.

She rose from the bed again. "C'mon. We're going outside. The sun is shining. It will help you relax." Sophie offered me her hand and left no space to argue, so I accepted and rose too.

The idea of relaxing seemed not nearly as comfortable as it would be under normal circumstances. Relaxing meant voices. Peaceful silence was something I didn't get quite often. Not in combination at least.

Sophie led me to a small terrace in the psychiatry's garden. "Sit down, Patrick." She gestured to one of the chairs at an empty table. I obeyed and walked over to it. The sun already started heating up my skin. That made me realize how cold I had been lately.

For a short time I allowed myself to crave for the warmth and its comfort and turned my face towards the sun. It felt really nice.

"See, Patrick, you enjoy the sun and warmth. Why do you keep it from yourself? You were almost freezing in your room up there."

The calm atmosphere had a relaxing effect on me and made me feeling lazy, as if paralyzing my thoughts. Before I knew, I had answered her honestly. "I don't deserve it."

"Why would you believe something like that?" Sophie saw a chance to get more answers, but I was out of my little daze again. I turned away from the sun. This one honest answer was already more than I was used to offer. And I clearly didn't want to break my habits just more.

Sophie fixed her gaze on me. "Why don't you tell me?" I stayed silent. There was no other option since I didn't know the answer myself. After all I had decided to do this therapy. I would never get it done without accepting questions. I really should try allowing help.

Though I felt uncomfortable I finally forced myself to answer her.

"It is my fault that my family died."

I had said it out loud for the first time. And actually hearing it, even if I had said it myself, hurt more than I ever could have imagined. And it arose much self-hate inside me. I never could do this for longer than just now. She turned me inside out. This wasn't bearable. Silently I swore I would not answer another question.

"You're not a murderer. Red John is, but not you. And you know this as well as I do. Why do you even think it is your fault?" Her gentle voice seeped into my thoughts. I really wanted to believe her, but I knew better.

The hurt she had caused made me want to push her away from me, to some point where she wouldn't hurt me anymore, where she wouldn't ask other painful questions.

"It is my fault. I made him punish me. I bet it was in the newspaper. And also it would be noted in the case files. Why do you ask if you already know?" She seemed surprised about my sudden change of mood and my harsh voice. I fixed my eyes on her, trying to stare her down.

But she returned my gaze with the same fierce intensity. "There is no need for you to accuse me of anything for I haven't seen any case files and my job being demanding, leaving no time to read the newspaper regularly." She didn't shout, but her voice was hard nonetheless.

"I know almost nothing about my patients before I meet them."

I couldn't stand looking at her anymore. I'm not one to give up easily, but Sophie had broken me somehow. I had made a mistake. I had failed. I never was talented in backing down. My self-confidence was sincerely hurt by now.

Sophie spoke up again, her voice sounding provoking. "Why feeling bad now? Surprised to have someone on the same wavelength? Can't cope with giving up control?"

The more she said the more my shoulders slumped down. She had this impact on me because she had revealed the truth. Sophie hurt me and did it fully intentional.

"Why do you think you can insult people and never get insulted yourself? What would allow you turning people's private life inside out, but keeping your own covered from anyone?"

A tear dropped on my lap. As harsh as her voice was just seconds ago as gentle was it now. "Tell me." This change let me break down completely and a sob shook my body. "I'm sorry." My voice was hoarse and hardly more than a whisper. "I want help."

Sophie touched my arm comfortingly. "Okay. Now we're able to get somewhere."

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Please don't kill me. I know I took very long updating. :(

But there was this well known missing inspiration. I just hadn't managed to get some of this on the paper and I wouldn't want to serve you too much crap.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)