Lassiter never though he would be actually having a conversation with Shawn Spencer. They didn't like each other; in fact they couldn't stand each other. However there wasn't much to do when you were stuck in an elevator with a medicated consultant. And it was less of a conversation then the inescapable fact Shawn had started rambling a good ten minutes earlier. He had really stopped being in any control of his mouth soon after he regained some resemblance of consciousness (though it wasn't that different from normal). Lassiter wouldn't have been surprised if he had forgotten that the detective was in the elevator with him. Lassiter had stopped paying attention soon after the ramblings had begun but there was something about Spencer's tone that made him suddenly start paying attention.
"My father arrested me when I was a teenager." "I borrowed his truck to impress a girl. It was prom night." He chuckled without any humor what so ever. "Marched me though the station himself. Read me my rights like he had never met me before in his life. It's been ten years and that stupid night still keeps me from sleeping sometimes."
"Spencer?" Lassiter was sure that Shawn would have never be talking to him about this under normal circumstances. This didn't sound like the kind of thing you wanted to tell the man who hated your guts and wanted to get you fired. Besides he already knew about Henry arresting Shawn from when Lassiter had arrested the psychic during their first case together.
"I was confused, you know? How could you do that to a member of your family, the only member of your family? I though maybe it was a cop thing. Dad was always doing stuff that didn't make any sense to me so maybe cops just had different mental processes than the rest of us."
"You have no idea I'm here do you?" He felt some odd need to break the monologue even though he had to admit he was curious. Just how often did someone get the chance to see how the fake psychic's brain actually worked?
"I mean it would make sense. He was always different from the other Dads. Maybe it was all because he was a cop, maybe he just couldn't help himself."
"Who are you talking to, Spencer?" Lassiter spoke a little louder hoping to break whatever trance the other man seemed to be in.
"I just wanted to understand. I got out of town and I went to the academy. I went all the way to New York so that I wouldn't run into anyone my dad knew."
"You what?" He spat out more in surprise than any other emotion. "But…" He trailed off. He had no idea what to say. Maybe he was the one with the head injury and Spencer was really talking about the odd thunderstorms as of late.
"I went through the whole damn thing. I took the tests, the classes and got every thing they could give me. I was a cop."
The concussed man finally moved his gaze from where it had been melting a hole in the door and locked eyes with the detective. A glimmer of recognition was the first sign that he knew who the detective was. "I still didn't understand. I didn't learn anything in the academy that made me understand why he did any of the things he did."