Killer Genius

by David Archer

Sam almost let out a sigh of relief as he finally understood.

  Eric had been admitted to North Forest Hospital when he was eleven, and the rules on communication for him were very clear. Patients like him weren't allowed to communicate with each other because they could form groups that might be capable of creating dangerous situations. They also weren't allowed to communicate with the general public, because their superior intellect sometimes made it possible for them to trick people who weren’t quite as smart as they were.

  But who did that leave?

  Eric hadn't formed or maintained a single relationship since he was eleven. That meant he had never learned how to compromise or have a difference of opinion or choose which battles were worth fighting, or understand people who made him feel angry or hurt. It shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone that Eric had no social skills or impulse control.

  Intellectually, Eric may have been well above his seventeen years, but in every other regard, he was still a little boy who had been yanked away from his mother.

  Sam could spend the rest of his life kicking himself for missing the obvious, and it still wouldn't have been enough, but kicking himself wouldn't get anything done, so Sam continued to dig for answers.

  "Eric, if you know all this, why did you fight with me on the rooftop?" He made sure to keep his voice soft rather than accusatory. "Did you think I was being unfair, too?"

  Eric pulled his legs up onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face in his knees. He shook his head and tried to make himself smaller.

  "Was it because I didn’t stand up for Lee like you thought I should?"

  Eric shook his head again, trembling a bit.

  Sam licked his lips and tried to think back. Lee had been the center of the conflict in Missouri. On the roof, Eric had revealed how his anger about Lee was rooted in his anger toward his own bullies, the people who had locked him away; however, that only explained his frustration toward the town and the job that had to be done. It didn't explain why he was angry with Sam.

  Sam thought about everything that happened the day before. He couldn't remember the details perfectly, but he remembered stepping in between Eric and Merton. He had tried to talk the sheriff out of lashing out at Eric based on legal constraints, and then—oh.

  "Eric," Sam began softly. "Were you angry because I didn't stand up for you?"

  Eric didn't nod, but he didn't shake his head, either. He sniffed, shoulders jerking once or twice, though no sound actually left him.

  "You wanted to be put first, didn't you? Like you did for Lee? But instead, you felt like we were ganging up on you. Is that right?"

  Eric let a few sobs escape, but he didn’t speak.

  "Eric, talk to me." Sam waited a moment, but Eric didn't stop. "Hey, hey, hey. Come on, talk to me, okay?"

  Eric relaxed a bit, but he didn't untangle himself in the slightest, still saying nothing, keeping his face covered.

  "Eric, why didn't you just tell me what you were feeling?" Sam was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

  "I tried, but…" Eric squirmed, tears thick in his voice. "But my brain just wouldn't—I couldn't make my mouth—I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to—how to say what I was… I just didn't know what to do."

  Sam shushed him. "Shh, that's okay. I didn't know that before, but now I do, so we can communicate a little better."

  Eric sniffed and shifted on the sofa, pulling his hand from Sam and wiping his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Prichard…"

  Sam frowned and considered the young man to his left, a soft sigh escaping him. He reached out and put his arm around Eric's shoulders, pulling him a little closer and speaking softly. "I forgive you, Eric. I'm sorry, too."

  Eric sniffed and looked up at Sam, confusion swimming in his wide, honey-brown eyes. "Why are you sorry?"

  "I shouldn't have assumed I knew what you were thinking and feeling." Sam smiled softly. "And besides, you were right. I might be a detective, but that doesn't mean I know you inside and out." He gave a slight squeeze, half-tempted to pull Eric into a full-blown hug like he would after an argument with Kenzie. "It's also my responsibility as chief investigator to stay calm when other people lose their temper. I didn't do that very well."

  Eric blinked rapidly, sniffed, and then blinked some more. He had a few tears trailing down his cheeks, and he appeared hesitant to so much as breathe. "I…" He looked at the lack of space between them, tilting his head a bit. "You aren't my mom."

  Sam frowned, completely lost. "No…?"

  Eric sniffed again, but he didn't pull away. "I thought only moms gave hugs."

  Sam felt a pang in his chest, and he allowed some of that sadness to bleed into his voice when he replied. "Your mother is the only person who ever hugged you?"

  Eric offered a hesitant nod, his body uncurling just a bit. "Yeah. Do other people hug?"

  Sam nodded his head. "It isn't the most common display of affection, but friends and family hug each other all the time."

  Eric looked at Sam for another moment or two, and then he moved a little closer, wrapping his arms around Sam's torso and hanging on tight. He pressed his head against Sam's chest and sniffed quietly. "I like it."

  Sam smiled and once again offered a one-armed squeeze. "I like it, too."

  Eric pulled away then, wiping his face and idly rubbing at his nose. "I, um… I can work a bit, if you have anything you want me to do."

  Sam shook his head and got to his feet, patting Eric on the shoulder. "No, I want you to lie down and get some sleep. You aren't going back to North Forest Hospital today, and I have to get the team together for a meeting. You're allowed to be in here unsupervised, okay?"

  Eric appeared hesitant to accept the proposal, but then he slowly leaned onto his side and relaxed. "Okay… You won't let me sleep the whole time, right? I want to, um, to spend time with you guys… before I go back… if that's okay…?" He tensed, fearing whatever results his request might bring.

  Sam only smiled again—he was certain he had smiled more in the last hour than he had in the last week—and walked to the door. "I won't let you sleep too long. You'll spend time with the team, I promise."

  Eric smiled and then closed his eyes, letting out a big sigh. "Okay…"

  Sam stepped out of the office and closed the door behind him, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before heading for the conference room. "Meeting," he called, knowing his tone alone would get his team where he wanted them in less than five minutes.

  So much for talking to Summer first. I guess we're all discussing this at once.

  * * *

  Sam had just reached the conference room door when Summer entered, a stack of folders pressed against her chest. Seeing her hands full, he stepped behind her and closed the door.

  "Sam, everything okay?" Denny took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair.

  Sam nodded and made his way to the head of the table, opting to stand in front of the screen they used for case files. "It's about Eric."

  He instantly had the rapt attention of everyone at the table.

  "He and I talked for a bit, and I have a theory. There was a lot more I wanted to ask him about, but we need to make a decision first. He's sleeping in my office for right now."

  Sam paused briefly, grateful no one interrupted, and tried to figure out exactly how to phrase his epiphany. He decided the best place to start was the beginning, so he began with the end of the Ramey case.

  "If I can help it, Eric is not going back to North Forest Hospital. At first, I had planned to set up some sort of scenario where he can advise us from here."

  Darren arched a brow. "But…?"

  Sam had to smile a bit. "But now I think we can help him behave better on field missions. My theory is going to take a lot of time and effort from this team, and I don't know if it's the kind of time and effort we have to give." He licked his lips. "Eric has been in North Forest Hospital since he was eleven years old. If you're like me, then you didn't t
ake the time to think about what that means for his social life."

  He stopped to let the thought sink in, watching as each face revealed the same 'aha' moment Sam had experienced less than an hour before. However, despite his own feeling of stupidity and short-sightedness, he didn't blame his team for missing the obvious conclusion. Everyone knew how people like Eric behaved, so why would they try and find a reason for Eric's lack of social skills? It was normal. No one tried to get to the bottom of normal things. It would be like walking down the street and deciding to investigate why the double yellow lines were in the middle of that particular section of road—they simply were. Roads without double-yellow lines would be unusual, highways and inner cities excluded, not the other way around.

  Jade let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead, probably kicking herself the same way Sam had. "He's never gone through his adolescent social stages."

  Denny nodded, twirling a pen between his fingers. "He doesn't know who he is or what he wants, he only knows what we want from him, and when it doesn't feel right, he starts freaking out."

  Summer nodded in agreement, gesturing with her hands as she built on Denny's statement. "It's the same thing with relationships. He doesn't know where the lines are. If he feels alone, he gets clingy and eager-to-please, but if he feels too attached to someone, he lashes out to push them away. It looks like mood swings."

  Darren stroked his chin but he didn't say anything.

  Summer shook her head, drumming her fingers on the table in front of her. "Not to mention, if he doesn't actually need the medicines he's on, they could be causing half of the mood swings we see." She sighed, sadness shading her bright blue eyes. "Poor Eric… his brain has got to be a complete mess."

  Sam cleared his throat to draw the attention back to himself. "You're all coming to the same conclusion I did; however, this is where the tough decision comes in. It takes a lot of time and effort to undo six years of damage. I think Eric could learn to manage in society and in the field, but it won't be easy, and any time we spend with him outside the office would be off the job. He's going to make errors, and we're going to have to handle the results of those errors. We'll—"

  "We'll be the only family he has." Summer let out a sigh and looked toward Sam's office. "It'll be a full-time responsibility."

  Sam nodded solemnly, allowing silence to fall over the room as his team thought over the proposition set before them. No one made eye contact with anyone, all lost in their own thoughts, until Summer spoke up and all eyes turned to her.

  “It was actually kind of nice,” she said. “Having him at my place. It was like having a little brother hanging out with me. Last night, we sat down and watched a Disney movie together.” She shook her head. “Do you know, he hadn’t seen one since he got locked up?”

  Sam felt a smile tug at his own lips, his own eyes gazing toward his office before returning to the table.

  “I guess it would be pretty traumatizing,” Sam said, “to go from the outside world to a prison-like setting at such a young age. And unfortunately, we can't detect intelligence at the moment of birth and raise them in one environment or the other.”

  Summer opened the folder on the top of her pile. "I’ve already gathered up the necessary paperwork, and Ron gave me the okay to start filling it out. Eric can stay with me. I have plenty of room, but I’ll have to convince him to sleep in his own room, somehow. He’s been sleeping on an air mattress in my bedroom, and that just isn’t going to work full-time."

  “I can take the lad in when you need a break,” Denny said. “He and I seem to get along rather well.”

  “He can stay with me sometimes,” Walter said. “I like talking to him.”

  “Of course you do,” Steve said. “You finally found somebody who can understand what you’re talking about.” He turned to look at Sam. “The wife and I have a guestroom,” he said. “He can stay with us sometimes.”

  Sam looked at him team a bit incredulously. "Uh, shouldn't we all talk about this first?"

  Darren gestured to the rest of them. "Don’t look now, Sam, but I think we just did."

  Sam stared for a moment more, and then he smirked. "Well, it's good to know you all made a decision before I knew there was a decision to make."

  Summer gave a shrug. "You and Denny had already talked about keeping him around, and I figured it was probably what you wanted to talk to me about. All we had to think about was whether or not we're ready for the full-time responsibility of helping him get his head together."

  Sam put his hands on his hips. "It was a pretty quick decision, given its importance."

  Jade spread her hands a bit, as if asking a question. "Was there any doubt?"

  Sam looked at her for a moment, and then he looked across the rest of his team. "Apparently not." He straightened up and put his hands on his hips. "Remember, most of this has to be on our time. We need to make sure we're getting our jobs done either before or during the time we spend helping Eric, so we need to get back to work." He started toward the door as he spoke. "Besides, the very first call that needs to be made is one I'd like to make myself."

  Summer frowned a bit. "What call is that?"

  "A decent doctor." Sam paused in the door, turning to look at his team. "I think it's time we figure out just what kind of medications Eric really needs to be on."

  That was the understatement of the century.

  SEVEN

  Sam drummed his fingers on the desk and leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh as he held the phone to his ear. He let his gaze wander up to the ceiling, held his tongue for a moment more, and then stood up.

  "Agent Johnson, I don't particularly care what your personal opinion on my decision is. Ms. Raines submitted a formal and lawful request for all records pertaining to Eric Brenner and any ward mates he had from the date of his admission until now. It was rejected for reasons unknown, and now that request has become a demand, which, I might add, has been endorsed by the director of the Department of Homeland Security. NFH has exactly twenty-four hours to have those files faxed to my office. If you run into any trouble, you can reach me at this number. Have a good day."

  Sam hung up and let out a sigh, putting a hand to his forehead. He walked over to the window and exhaled slowly, silently wondering just what it was that he had gotten himself into.

  "You don't have to keep me, you know."

  Sam startled a bit and turned to the sofa. "I thought you were still sleeping."

  Eric gave a shrug. "Didn't want to interrupt." He paused, looked down at his lap, and then shrugged again. "It doesn't matter. I don't mind what I heard. You can send me back now, if you want, and just make a request for me the next time you need me. They'll get me out here pretty quickly."

  Sam didn't say anything at first, turning to look out the window again.

  I haven't spoken to DHS or requested a custody transfer, but everyone on the team is behind the decision to keep Eric. He frowned, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. I don't like how tough NFH is being. If everything is being run as it should be, there should be nothing keeping them from sending me his information. Specials in the system are supposed to have no right to privacy, and NFH is just as much a part of the government as the DHS, so there shouldn't be any jurisdictional problems.With our DHS contracts, these problems simply shouldn’t exist.

  "Mr. Prichard?" Eric spoke hesitantly, his voice small. "It, uh… it really is okay. I won't run away or anything if you tell me I'm going back tonight. You don't have to worry. I'd just like to know."

  Sam looked at Eric again and, after a moment of thought, joined him on the sofa. He leaned against the arm closest to the door, folding his hands in his lap and looking at Eric with expectant eyes.

  "Tell me about NFH."

  Eric blinked, clearly confused, but he began his answer regardless. "North Forest Hospital is a program developed by the government to gather, contain, and monitor—" He stopped abruptly when Sam shook his head.

  "I want
you to tell me what it's like. Tell me about some experiences you had there."

  Eric licked his lips, thinking about the request for a few moments. It didn't look like he was composing a lie; more like he was trying to figure out if Sam was safe. That, in and of itself, made Sam more determined to get to the bottom of things.

  "Well, there isn't really very much to tell." Eric gave a shrug, but his face said that wasn’t exactly true. "We don't really do much there."

  Sam felt a spark of frustration, but he was more concerned with his suspicions. He let the room get quiet, waited for the pressure to build a bit, and then he tried again. "Pretend North Forest Hospital is going to admit me. From one special to another, tell me what to expect."

  "You are not a special." Eric snarled the words, getting in Sam's face and baring his teeth in a sudden surge of anger.

  Sam remained completely calm, not scolding or even looking disappointed at the outburst. "You're right. I clearly bothered you by saying that, even if it was pretend. I'm sorry."

  Eric calmed almost immediately, squirming uncomfortably as he pulled himself back to his side of the sofa. "Yeah." He lowered his eyes, looking down at the floor by his feet.

  Sam waited a moment, letting a bit of silence pass between them. Third time's a charm.

  "Pretend it really is one kid to another." He smiled briefly when Eric looked at him but kept his tone serious. "Let's say… I arrest someone, and we realize they're a special, so they're here in the office with us now. North Forest Hospital is coming to pick them up. Tell me what you would tell them."

  Eric opened his mouth, his gut reaction just barely stopped in time for him to reconsider his words. He looked down at his lap, clinched his fingers together and began to speak.

  He spoke very softly.

  "Well, you'll have your own room. It's nice. You get a cot, and a box of clothes, sort of like a small closet." He rubbed at his nose and looked at Sam again. "You'll be on the same ward as three other consultants. Oh! But you can't talk to them. Really, we shouldn't be talking now, but… Mr. Prichard made an exception." He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "There's a gym and a library, so that's nice, but don't forget you still can't talk to anyone, not even there. If you're really, really good, they'll let you play video games. Only old ones, though, and nothing with violence."