Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1- New Year’s Day (January)

All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you, night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day

U2- "New Year’s Day"

            “Shawn, the whole concept of helping is to actually help.”

            Shawn Spencer, fake psychic extraordinaire, glanced up from the file he was reading to the frustrated glare of his detective girlfriend, Juliet O’Hara. It was 10pm on New Year’s Eve and they’d spent the last two hours in the SBPD's file room working on end of the year inventory and file sorting. His best friend Gus and Juliet’s partner Carlton had also joined in the “festivities.”

            “Sorry Jules but this is so boooring!” Shawn pouted and put away the file. "I'd honestly rather sit on the couch with Gus and watch a marathon of The View."

            "I do not watch The View Shawn," Gus protested, looking up from the pile of paperwork in front of him. He'd been delegated to alphabetizing the files while the others put them away.

            Shawn grinned, glad to have a distraction and a reason not to work, despite having volunteered both himself and Gus for this project. He put a finger to his head and raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Wait... I'm seeing someone in duckie PJs crying along with Whoopi Goldberg, while eating an entire pint of ice cream."

            Gus shrank under the surprised gazes of the two detectives. "I don't do that! Shawn, stop messing around and file!" Shawn tsked and turned back to the filing cabinet.

            “Look!” He gripped a file, yellowed, and obviously one of the older ones. “This one’s from 1965! I wonder if my dad worked here back then.”

            Gus wrinkled his nose at his friend. “Dude, your dad would have been, like, eight. I doubt he was toting a gun and solving murder mysteries.”

            “Why not? I was.” Shawn shrugged.

            Having had enough, Carlton did what he could to get everyone back on track. “Would you two stop it! I would love to get out of here before the next new year, so can we please get back to sorting, and others…,” he glared at Shawn, “… actually start sorting.”

            Shawn sighed. “Maaaan…it’s New Year’s Eve. We should be out partying it up, not stuck in a basement.” He shoved the file in the organized pile with more force than was necessary, and wiped away some of the dust that had accumulated on the older filing cabinets. He managed to get another five sorted until he got distracted again by another folder. This one, he noticed, was only from seven years ago, just before he started working for the SBPD.

            He looked around to make sure the others weren't going to see him, before opening the cover and scanning the contents. The file was of a gangland style killing that was never solved. The body of a local business man was found behind a dumpster in a back alley, shot in the head once. The killer, or killers, were never caught.

            The name on the file, Sebastian Wright, sparked a memory. Sure enough, near the bottom of the page was a note saying that a tip had been called in about the type of car the tire tracks would have belonged to. Shawn frowned, he'd made that call. They should have caught the people responsible since the type of car wasn’t all that common. The tires came in standard for some fancy type of Lamborghini that not many people could afford, let alone want to drive considering how much it cost. Most people with those cars kept them in a garage to show off to their, just as rich, friends.

            Knowing they’d either ignored one of his few freebie tips or mucked up the investigation really frustrated him. Shawn squinted and looked at the evidence listed in the file. It was information never released to the public, so he hadn’t known it when he called in the tip.

            Shoe print - size 9 wide

            Bullet casing - 40 caliber

            Tire tracks – Arrow pattern, wide.

            It was the shoe size that made him pause.

            Size 9… He put a finger to his temple and closed his eyes. He remembered seeing the type of car that those wide tires belonged to. He’d never thought about it, because he figured the police had caught the person responsible for the murder. The car he'd seen belonged to Trevor Jones, the current city administrator. He’d caught glimpses of him at the party he and Juliet had gone to when he was pretending to run for Mayor.

            The man was blond haired and a bit bulky, but had oozed charisma and had been surrounded by a large number of guests. Shawn had even overheard him talking about how he had kept his car “cherry,” even though he’d had it for over fifteen years, so Shawn at least knew Trevor had the car at the time of the murder. Plus, after seeing how popular he was, Shawn had given him the once over, wary of anyone who’d steal his thunder at the party and keep him from being the center of attention. So he was absolutely sure the man’s shoes were a size 9.

            It was too big of a coincidence to ignore. He’d made wilder assumptions before, and it was worth it for the chance to catch a murderer who had gone free and was currently in a position of power. Those were always the most fun to reveal and it would definitely get him some press.

Even more important, was that Psych could use the money right now. With interim mayor Swaggerty screwing them over at every turn, it had been like pulling teeth to get on a case, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. His dad hadn’t even been that stingy with them and that was saying a lot.

            “Look at this, guys…” Shawn stated, walking towards his girlfriend.

            Rolling her eyes at him, Juliet turned around just as Shawn, who was paying more attention to the file than where he was walking, kicked a wooden support out from under one of the taller shelves. “Shawn, look out!”

            Shawn's eyes shot upward, but he had no time to do much more than throw his hands up, still gripping the file.

            The others watched in horror as hundreds of pounds of paper and an entire shelf toppled onto him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2- Behind These Hazel Eyes (January)

Everything, it felt so right Unbreakable, like nothin' could go wrong Now I can't breathe No, I can't sleep I'm barely hanging on

Kelly Clarkson- “Behind These Hazel Eyes”

            Shawn’s cry of surprise and pain was cut short when the debris hit with a floor shaking series of clangs. The shock of what happened only lasted an instant before both detectives’ police training kicked in. Gus, however, was frozen in place, having just seen what only could have been his best friend's demise.

            Juliet dove in head first and dug desperately through the jumble of drawers and files as loose pieces of paper still fluttered to the floor. "Oh God! SHAWN!"

            Carlton called ‘SPENCER!’ a few times while digging right next to her. He looked over his shoulder and noticed Gus was still standing petrified. He was obviously going into shock and the experienced detective knew he had to get the man doing something. "Guster! Go get help!"

            Gus blinked and his face contorted with sadness and worry, but he did as he was told, running out the door screaming for assistance. The station was almost running on a skeleton crew, but there were still a few officers, including Chief Karen Vick, in the building doing other inventories.

            Turning back to digging, it took both detectives over a minute to even find Shawn in the messy rubble. Juliet moved a drawer and saw his bloody hand, sticking out of the debris. She grabbed it and squeezed lightly, hoping for some kind of reaction, but there was nothing. "Carlton, here!"

            They both focused their digging closer to Shawn's body, and were eventually able to find his head. It was also bloodied with a gash from one of the falling drawers. Once they cleared around him, they saw that Shawn's torso was pinned underneath the large metal shelf. Thankfully, at this point Gus returned with six officers and they were able to help the detectives lift the shelf off with several grunts of effort.

            Shawn was completely still and his lips were turning blue, but after touching his neck Juliet was able to find a pulse. "I have a heartbeat, but he’s not breathing,” she sobbed. “Did you call an ambulance?!" She looked up at Gus, who nodded.

            "Yeah, they're on their way..." Gus took off his jacket and put it underneath Shawn’s head for support.

            “Alright, everyone move back!” Carlton ordered, “Dobson, go watch for that ambulance and get them down here double time!” He then knelt next to Shawn and checked his chest. It looked misshapen and gave way under Carlton's light touch. “His ribs are broken. They’ve probably punctured a lung.” Giving his partner a serious look he stated, “We can’t do chest compressions.”

            Juliet nodded, trying to get control of her emotions. They needed to get him oxygen as fast as possible, "I'll start mouth to mouth."

            “Detectives!” Chief Vick ran in and tossed them an Ambu bag from the station med kit. It was a better idea, as it would pump in more oxygen than an exhale. Juliet gave her a thankful look before putting it over Shawn’s mouth, pressing it frantically.

            Carlton noticed his partner’s shaking hands. "O'Hara! I need you to concentrate." He grabbed her hand holding the bag, getting her attention. "Can you do that?" She took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, slow and rhythmic. One, two. One, two." Carlton squeezed her hand at the pace she should be going.

            "Okay, I got it." Juliet whispered and continued while they waited for the ambulance. Shawn's color didn't improve much, but he didn't seem to be getting any worse, which was something..

            Gus was trying to explain to Karen what had happened, when the EMTs finally arrived.

            "Make way!" One of them yelled urgently and the two detectives handed over Shawn's care, while Carlton briefed them on Shawn's condition. Within a minute he was on the gurney being rushed past a dozen worried officers.

            "I'm going with!" Both Gus and Juliet chimed at the same time.

            Gus looked at Juliet sadly, "You should go, you're his girlfriend."

            "No! You're his best friend, he'd want you to go!" Juliet insisted.

            Before more arguments could be made, Karen took charge. "No one else is going in that ambulance. The paramedics are going to need the room." At the crestfallen looks Karen sighed and pulled out her keys, "I'll take you two myself. Let's go." Juliet and Gus raced out of the records room as Karen turned to Carlton, "As soon as you're done with your report here, you can come down to the hospital."

            Carlton frowned, unsure whether it would even be his place to be there. He'd known Shawn for a long time but they weren't exactly what you'd call, 'best buds.' "Karen, I don't want−"

            "That's an order detective." Karen gave him a stern look.

            "Yes, Chief." He nodded and began ordering the officers out of the room; it was now an accident scene and needed to be sealed off.

            Carlton watched her leave and looked at the body shaped hole they'd pulled Shawn out of. Speckles of blood dotted the files that he'd come into contact with, and one in particular had a large bloody handprint on it. It must have been the one that he was carrying. He picked it up and bagged it, making sure not to touch the blood. A lot of the files would have to be cleaned.

            While gazing at the bloody print, he felt a pang of guilt, even though the whole thing was a freak accident. It could have happened to anyone. They'd been complaining about getting a better shelf for years, but budget cuts and the increased crime rate had put it on the very back burner.

            "Son of a bitch." He shook his head sadly and started making notes for his report.

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            Henry’s foot pressed down harder on his truck’s gas petal and he almost wished he hadn’t ripped out the nitrous that his son had installed a few years before. He’d gotten the call just three minutes before. A shelf, a goddamn shelf… in the middle of a police station no less. Only Shawn could pull that off. It seemed Shawn’s gambler’s luck had finally run out.

            He pursed his lips to keep them from quivering and tightened his hands on the wheel.

            Spencers did not cry.  

            He just needed to find Juliet and Gus at the hospital, then the doctor would come out and tell them everything would be alright and he had worried for nothing. “Yeah, since when is anything alright when it comes to my son…” Henry grumbled, pulling into the crowded Emergency Room parking lot.

            He'd contemplated calling Maddie, but he didn't know what to tell her. It would be less painful to wait, and see what Shawn's condition was first, then to call her out of the blue with no information other than telling Madeline her son was seriously injured. No need for her to worry as much as he was.

            The waiting room was just as crowded as the lot, but it made sense being that it was New Year’s Eve. The hospital is always busier on holidays, not to mention on a holiday where people got incredibly drunk and played with fire. As he searched the throng of people, he cataloged everyone there; drunks, accidents, burn victims from firecrackers... but not anyone he knew. Henry wandered to the back of the room before he saw Juliet and Gus sitting away from everyone else. He was surprised to see that Karen was sitting with the group, talking to Gus comfortingly.

            “Henry!” Juliet called him over and gave him a big hug as soon as he was within reach. He'd seen the detective take down perps and wield weapons like a pro, recover from a terrifying experience with a serial killer and keep her cool in some extremely dangerous situations. But now, as he held her in his arms, he realized how fragile her tiny frame really was. “I’m so sorry!” she choked out and gripped him tightly.

            They hadn’t told him much over the phone before he’d hung up and rushed out the door. Judging by her reaction, it was really bad, but he knew it wasn’t anything Juliet needed to apologize for.

“It was an accident sweetie. It wasn’t your fault.” He turned to Gus, who had scrunched his face in a grimace and began to make wailing sounds. He’d never been the quietest crier, and it was made all the worse since he was a sympathetic one as well. This time, however, Henry knew it was Gus’ own sorrow and concern for his best friend.

            Karen winced at the volume and Henry took a page from his son’s book and tried to distract Gus to keep the young man from making a scene in the middle of the waiting room. “Guster! Pull yourself together long enough to tell me what the hell is going on!” He used the best ‘dad voice’ he could muster. “Did the doctor come out yet?”

            Gus’ breath hitched, causing him to hiccup as he tried to pull himself together. “Ju− just to get Shawn’s medical hi−history. They needed to know what they c−could give him.”

            “Did you remember to tell them…?”

            “He’s allergic to anticonvulsants, I r−remembered.”

            Henry nodded and sat down hard next to Karen, putting his head in his hands. Karen started rubbing his back comfortingly. “We’ll see Henry. Shawn may still be okay.”

            He smiled at her, but didn’t say anything as millions of worse case scenarios played through his mind. When he was an officer, he’d heard over and over again that having your child die is a parent’s worst nightmare. Nightmare didn’t cut it. Not even close. Just the prospect of having his son die was more than he could mentally handle at that moment, if the shaking of his hands were any indication. He gripped them into fists, hoping no one had noticed.

            Looking over at Juliet, who had since sat down and started wringing her own hands, his heart broke even more. She’d just forgiven his son, and Shawn had mentioned to him how much better their relationship had been lately. After years of holding her at a distance, afraid of letting her know the real him, his commitment-phobe son had finally let someone in. Then this happened, and all that… could be over.

            Grateful for the hand on his back, keeping him grounded, Henry sighed heavily and watched the news of whether his only child would be alright.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3- Doctor, Doctor (January)

Doctor, there's something wrong with me
My health is not all that it used to be
My heart is out of beat, I got chokers on my feet
My eyesight's getting dimmer, I can't see.

The Who- “Doctor, Doctor”

Over an hour later, almost midnight, a doctor came out and headed towards their group. He extended his hand to Henry and shook it. “Mr. Spencer I presume.” Henry nodded. “I’m Dr. Thomas Keizer. Could you all come with me a moment please?” The doctor motioned for them all to follow him. Behind the doctor’s back, they all shared a look of worry. It was too soon to be able to see Shawn, so the only reason the doctor would want to talk to them alone would be bad news.

            When they made it through the throng of other patients and got to his office, the doctor motioned to them to have a seat. Everyone sat down but Henry, who crossed his arms and stared at him, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Dr. Keizer sat down in his own chair next to his desk, and sighed wearily. “We have the preliminary report on Shawn’s injuries. He is in critical condition, but we've managed to stabilize him for now.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and looked it over as he talked, never losing his solemn expression. “He arrived with a broken arm and hand, a few lacerations and a mild concussion, as well as several broken ribs.”

            Juliet’s brow furrowed and she looked at Gus, who had the same expression. They’d been there when it happened; Shawn looked so much worse off than just a concussion and a few broken bones.

            The doctor continued, “However, the broken ribs ended up piercing and collapsing one of his lungs completely, and partially collapsed the other one. He went with little to no oxygen for almost ten minutes by the time we were able to tube him.”

            “No,” Juliet groaned, unwittingly remembering the blue tinge of Shawn’s unresponsive features as they dug him out of the deadly jumble of bent metal and papers. “Is Shawn going to be okay?”

            The doctor glanced up at Juliet sadly. “His brain is swelling right now and it seems he is going to be unconscious for a while longer until it goes down. I do have to say, if he survives, there is a chance he may stay in a vegetative state." The people in the room all turned pale at the words 'if he survives.' The doctor continued, "There’s also no way of knowing how much damage there is until he wakes up. For now, we’ve stabilized him and will be taking a few images of his brain to see if any of the functions are compromised from the lack of oxygen. Be prepared though. Even when we get his brain scan, it will only tell us where the affected areas are, not the effects themselves.”

            “Are you saying you think he might have brain damage?” Karen gasped. The thought hadn’t occurred to her and by the others’ reactions, it hadn’t occurred to them either.

            Dr. Keizer nodded morosely, “It’s difficult to say how much, but yes. Even six minutes without sufficient oxygen is enough to cause some issues, let alone ten. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been knocked unconscious because he probably would have been gasping more, and that would have helped. As it is, the fact he is still alive right now is astounding.” The doctor looked at Juliet with a smile. “The EMTs said the oxygen you gave him before they got there definitely saved him. You should be proud.”

            Juliet, still in numbed shock after hearing the doctor’s prognosis, nodded. Henry grabbed her hand supportively, giving her a smile of thanks for helping to save his son.

            Everyone was quiet for a minute, still reeling from the news, before Henry took a deep breath and asked, “Can we see him?”

            The doctor nodded. “Once he’s back from getting the MRI, we will let you know what I’ve found and you can see him. I still have a couple tests to run while we wait for the results.”

            “Thank you doctor.” Gus, looking despondent, glanced at Henry and Juliet. “You guys want to grab something to eat quick?”

            Henry opened his mouth to protest but Karen cut him off. “Henry, starving yourself isn’t going to help Shawn, and I don’t think you’re going to want to leave once they let you see him. You too detective.” She looked to Juliet.

            Juliet reluctantly nodded her agreement and they all stood, the doctor included. He reached out, shaking Henry’s hand as he showed them out of his office. “It shouldn’t be long. I’m sorry I couldn’t have better news.”

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            Carlton pulled up to the hospital and turned off his car. He stared at the steering wheel, still trying to figure out if he should even go in or not. Even though a man he’d known for eight years, a man who’d cleared him of murder, saved his life. and made his partner happy, was dying in a hospital. Shawn wasn’t exactly his friend, more of a reluctant co-worker, with most of the reluctance coming from Carlton’s end of the relationship. He wasn’t sure how he should feel right now. Regret? Sadness? God forbid... despair?

            He’d spent the countdown to the new year logging and recounting probably the worst thing he’d seen in a very long time in his career as an officer. Happy freaking new year…

            He still hadn’t called Marlowe to tell her. She didn’t know Shawn all that well, but he knew she would fret about him anyway. She was just that type of person and he didn’t want to worry her when he himself didn’t know exactly what was going on. He couldn’t find out moping in his car though.

            With a grunt of annoyance, he opened the door, got out, and headed for the hospital. His nose wrinkled at the smell of bodily fluids and sterilization that lingered in the emergency room as he entered. It drudged up some bad memories. There were a lot of people around, but the nurse at the front desk looked up as he walked in and gave him a smile. “Can I help you?”

            He flashed his badge. “I’m looking for Shawn Spencer’s room.” If he has a room.

            “Oh! The doctor just told me I could let people go see him now.” She typed on the computer and pointed down the hallway. “Room 122. Fourth on the right.”

            Carlton nodded his thanks and walked down the hall, for once grateful his cynicism was unwarranted. Once he reached the right door he tentatively peeked in, not wanting to disturb any mushy “family moments” that might be happening inside. To his surprise, the only person in the room was a doctor who was hovering around Shawn, making notes and blocking his view of the psychic.

            As he walked in, the noise of his shoes on the floor caught the doctor’s attention. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone for a while yet. I thought you all went to the cafeteria.”

            “I just got here,” Carlton stated. “Should I go?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

            “No no! It’s fine−” The doctor noticed his badge, “Detective. I’m Dr. Thomas Keizer.”

            Carlton approached and shook the man’s hand “Head Detective Carlton Lassiter.” The doctor smiled and nodded, then turned around to go back to his observations.

            Now that he was closer to the bed, Carlton was finally able to get a good look at Shawn’s condition. “Jesus Spencer…” He couldn't see much of Shawn's face through the tape holding his breathing tube in, but the rest of him that wasn't covered in a sheet was a bruised up mess.

            Small bandages were placed here and there on his arms, most likely from trying to block all the falling objects. A larger bandage covered the wound on Shawn’s head that had been bleeding pretty good when Carlton had last seen him. There was a large cast on his right arm, covering his shoulder all the way past his elbow, cementing it in a slightly bent, and hopefully more comfortable, position. His fingers on the same hand were also wrapped, and had obviously been recently set if the swelling was any indication. The sheets were around his waist so Carlton was able to get a good look at the brace around his midsection, most likely holding his broken ribs in place.

            Snaking through the brace was a tube that disappeared behind the bed. Carlton knew those types of tubes were used after surgery on the lungs. That information coupled with the broken ribs, confirmed Carlton’s earlier suspicions. “His lung was punctured wasn’t it?”

            Dr. Keizer nodded, still facing Shawn and making notes. “Both of them. One completely collapsed, the other partially.” Carlton got the feeling the doctor knew he didn’t need to go into layman’s terms with him, and he was glad for it. The detective had seen enough death and injuries to know what was going on.

            “How long did he go without breathing?” He didn’t know if he wanted the answer or not. Shawn had spent at least five minutes at the station after the accident, two of which he was still lying under that goddamn shelf.

            The doctor turned back around to face him and took a deep breath. “Ten minutes, at the most.”

            "What do you mean 'at the most?'" The detective questioned.

            The doctor continued his examination as he stated, "If it were any longer than that, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

            Carlton exhaled noisily and hung his head. That wasn’t good. By the doctor’s demeanor, it seemed like Shawn wasn’t in too critical of a condition, but ten minutes without oxygen was never good. He watched curiously as the doctor turned around and shook Shawn, calling his name.

            “SHAWN!” The psychic’s eyes moved back and forth briefly before going still again. Dr. Keizer nodded and wrote more on his note pad.

            “What are you doing?” Carlton asked, curious as to why a doctor would be yelling at a patient who was obviously out cold.

            “I’m putting him through the Glasgow Coma Scale,” the doctor explained. “I need to see how severe his coma is.” He proceeded to take a small pointed metal rod from the tray next to him and poked Shawn’s nail of his left, uninjured, arm. The young man’s arm moved jerkily, but he was definitely trying to get away from the pain. After making yet another note, Dr. Keizer sighed. “It isn’t horrible, but it isn’t good either. I have a score of seven."

            Okay, maybe the doctor did need to use layman's terms with him. "What’s a seven mean?"

            Pointing at Shawn, the doctor explained. "Each reaction has a score. He's reacting to my voice, but he isn't opening his eyes. He's reacting to pain by flinching away, and he’s made a few groaning noises." The doctor gave Carlton a sad smile, "It isn't perfect, but it's an easy way to tell how deep his coma is. Once the tests come back and the swelling on his brain goes down, we’ll try again. He may be more conscious. It’s important he wake up quickly though, and if we know how far under he is, we’ll know how severe his brain injury was.”

            Carlton understood. There wasn’t a lot they could do to assess a patient’s mental facilities when they were unconscious. “Do the others know all this?” It was difficult for him to think about how hard his partner would be taking all this, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell Henry Spencer his son was a vegetable. He valued his life.

            “Most of it.” The doctor shrugged and Carlton let out a relieved sigh. “I’m expecting them any moment, along with the results of the MRI and EEG” He turned away from both the bed and the detective to write some notes for the nurses on the whiteboard hanging on the wall.

            The detective looked around and saw a chair. As much as he wanted to get out of the room, it wouldn’t make sense to go to the lobby, just to turn around and come back when everyone arrived. With a grunt of exhaustion, he sat down and stared at Shawn. Any other time he would be reveling in the silence, but now, with the situation, it just felt wrong.

            Suddenly, Shawn started to move. Carlton sat up straighter and was about to say something to the doctor, but Shawn kept moving… his body stretching backwards in an almost inhuman way despite the tight bandages and brace around his midsection.

            “DOCTOR!” He jumped to his feet as a few of the machines started sounding their alarms.

            Dr. Keizer spun around and saw what was happening. He quickly lowered the metal sides of the bed and ordered Carlton, who was on the other side, to do the same just as Shawn’s body went ramrod straight and jerked sporadically. It was a horrible sight. He stood immobile, unsure of what he should do to help.

            The doctor must have seen the expression on his face, “Detective, stay there and make sure he doesn’t fall off the bed or get wrapped up in the cords okay?” He used a soothing tone, keeping his voice even as if trying not to panic him.

            “What the hell is going on?”

            “The swelling on his brain is causing this," Dr. Keizer said patiently. "As it goes down, the electrical signals will hopefully stabilize.”

            “Hopefully!?” Carlton narrowed his eyes while holding his hands out, keeping Shawn from bumping into anything hard and falling off the bed, “What if they don’t?”

            Pursing his lips, the doctor said, “Then he’ll have them for the rest of his life.”

            Cursing, Carlton and the doctor rode out Shawn’s seizure for a minute or so before the rigid shaking turned into small twitches. “Isn’t there any medication you can give him for this?” He knew enough about medicine to know there were pills or injections that helped ward off seizures.

            The doctor was about to say something when a familiar voice chimed in. “He’s allergic to them.”

            Turning around, Carlton spotted the group of people standing at the door. He had no idea how long they’d been there, but it was obvious that they’d at least seen what he’d had to do for Shawn. He let the doctor take care of Shawn for now, and approached his partner who hadn’t moved from her spot at the door.

            Putting his hands on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes. “O’Hara, you okay?” She nodded and the action seemed to snap everyone else out of their shocked stupor. Chief Vick ended up catching his eye, and gave him a mouthed, Thank you. Grateful that he'd come. The rest if them filed into the room slowly, each finding a spot to stand or sit silently around the bed as the doctor continued his tests.

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            As Dr. Keizer had said, it wasn’t long before a nurse came with some x-rays and paperwork showing the results of the tests they had done. They all held their breath as he looked them over and felt their chests tighten as the farther along the doctor got, the more grim his face became. Finally, he nodded and handed the results back to the nurse.

            “I’m sorry to have to say this, but it’s as I thought. There is diminished activity, specifically in the area of the amygdala and parts of the cerebellum.”

            Henry was the first to speak, “What does that mean?” he asked harshly.

            The doctor held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I can tell you what the parts of the brain do, but we have to wait till he wakes up to know the full extent, alright Mr. Spencer?”

            Realizing he’d overreacted, Henry nodded and let the doctor continue.

            “The amygdala controls emotional responses, while the cerebellum is the center for coordination and movement. There’s no telling what part of them are affected, but so far those seem to be the areas that had the most damage.”

            “Is there anything we can do?” Gus asked helplessly, grabbing Juliet’s hand for mutual support.

            “I can give you some literature, but from my experience you need to be there for each other as much as Shawn. It’s not an easy thing for anyone to deal with, and you have to remember that he isn’t the only one going through this.” He tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I’ll give you some time with him, but let me know if he has any more seizures.” Dr. Keizer specifically looked at Carlton and the detective nodded as the doctor left them to their vigil at Shawn’s bedside.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4- Dear Agony (January-February)

Suddenly the lights go out
Let forever drag me down
I will fight for one last breath
I will fight until the end

Breaking Benjamin- “Dear Agony”

            "....uh..."

            Shawn mumbled as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His body felt heavy, tired, and he couldn’t remember how he ended up that way. Everything before then had been floaty. A black nothingness.

            The last clear thing he remembered was looking at a case file, and Juliet. Now agony was the only thing he could feel. His chest felt like it was on fire.

            What's going on? He tried to move. Oh, God!!! He realized something was in his mouth and he choked on it. He wanted to scream in pain. Get it out! What is it?!

            "Shawn! Can you hear me?"

            Light filtered through the slits of his partially opened eyes and he groaned. He heard movement but he couldn't focus enough to realize where it was coming from. He opened his eyes wider, trying to see. There was a face in front of him, but it was unclear and his eyelids felt so heavy, so he closed them.

            Someone please make the pain stop.

            He felt the world fade again.

---------------------------------

            Shawn knew time passed, just not how much. Hours? Days? He didn't know how he knew either, it was just a feeling. Sometimes he thought he’d died, but then the pain would flare up again, and pain meant you were alive, didn’t it? There was also this nagging sensation that he had something to do, something important, but every time he thought about it, the reason would be just out of his reach.

            Once in a while, he'd hear voices. They were usually hushed and he couldn't understand them. It was almost like they were coming through on a radio with bad reception. Muffled, garbled, yet somehow comforting.

            Every so often, he started getting a weird tingly feeling. Excruciating pain would follow, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

            It scared him.

            He also couldn't remember things for a while afterward either, and he remembered everything, which made the whole experience that much more terrifying. He wished he could try to wake up, scream, let people know what was happening to him, but he was just so tired, too tired…

---------------------------------

            Shawn broke from the haze abruptly when he felt something choking him. He couldn't breathe, his throat was closing. He struggled, but it did no good. Something was holding him down. His neck felt weird, and he needed to cough, but there was no air in his lungs. Am I gonna die? After all this?!

            "Shawn breathe! Breathe!" A voice commanded. Shawn's eyes shot open and he saw blurry shapes and people he didn't know. He immediately hated them for the anguish they were causing him. He started to wonder if he'd been kidnapped again. Are they torturing me for information? He felt softness under his hands and gripped it tight, trying to take a breath, trying to get some air.

            When he finally took his first voluntary gasping breath, it was like molten metal entering his lungs, and God his chest! A million jagged shards of glass were being pressed into it.

            What are they doing to me? Someone help! Please...

----------------------------

            Shawn wasn't aware that he'd drifted off again until he realized he’d been staring at a wall through half lidded eyes, for who knows how long. Still woozy, his gaze wandered lazily to the left, noticing a large window and the blue sky beyond it. After so long suffering in the dark, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

            The peaceful moment was broken by a small gasp and a familiar voice trying to get his attention.

            "Shawn? Buddy, are you with us? C'mon kiddo."

            He felt a hand on his shoulder.

            Dad.

            He opened his eyes a little more, but the light of the room was too bright and he squeezed them shut again. "Ahh..."

            "Gus! Turn off the light, quick! He’s waking up!"

            Gus. His friend was here. They rescued me! Things were going to be okay now. He'd get up, crack a few jokes, and things would be okay.

            Except… everything felt far from okay. He still couldn’t move, or talk. A shape leaned over him. His dad. He tried to look at the old man, but his eyes didn't want to work right. It was hard to keep them focused, so he stopped trying, and ended up facing the wall again. Dammit.

            "Shawn, can you hear me? Blink if you can hear me!"

            It took him a second to realize they were talking to him. With no small degree of difficulty, he moved his eyes back to his father's face. He needed to blink? Henry Spencer had never asked him to do something so easy, even though right now it was proving to be really hard. With a bit more effort, he closed his eyes and opened them.

            "Kid, I'm going to ask some questions okay?" Shawn tried to reach out to him, to make sure he was real, but it felt like it was a thousand pounds. His father saved him the trouble though, and Shawn felt a calloused hand rest on his chin.

            This is really real.

            "Shawn, I need you to blink once for yes, and two for no... do you understand?"

            His dad was talking too fast. Shawn didn’t know what he wanted. Was he supposed to blink again? He blinked.

            "Good Shawn. Do you know where you are?"

            He blinked.

            "Do you know what happened?"

            What happened?

            "Look at this guys..."

            "SHAWN!"

            Shouting, pain. What did happen? He couldn't focus. It didn't help that there was suddenly a slight, but distracting, "glowiness" around his dad. An aura of light outlining him perfectly. It was kind of pretty. It looked warm and inviting. More so than the loud, painful memories his father was trying to dredge up.

            "Uh, I don't think he understands Henry." It took Shawn a moment to realize it was Gus speaking.

            "Of course he understands! He blinked!"

            "I think he was just blinking..."

            Shawn stopped listening. The glowing was getting worse, no longer the soft light, and a shooting pain ripped through his head. It felt like the time he’d gotten hit in the side of the face with a baseball as a kid; a sudden sting followed by an aching throb. He clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, breathing in gasps.

            "Shawn? What's wrong?" His father was talking to him again. He opened his eyes, and the haloes of light were still there. He looked at the walls again, just wanting to go back to sleep, when something connected. White walls, beeping machines. A hospital. He was in a hospital! He got hurt at work and was in a hospital.

            He could barely keep his eyes open as the light halos spread out, almost obscuring his vision completely. It wasn't pretty anymore, it was terrifying. He had to let them know what was happening! "Guh..." He squeaked out. "D..." Shawn willed his hand to lift, just once, and managed to brush his fingers against his father’s wrist.

            "Shawn? See Gus! I told you he's awake! What Shawn? What is it?"

            Shawn desperately wanted to answer his father, to let both of them know he was there, but he felt his body begin to tremor. Oh no, it's happening again... His eyes rolled back into his head, and just before his world went dark, he heard his father say, "Gus, turn away."

----------------------------------

            Henry felt like shouting for joy. Shawn had finally woken up. Really woken up. Not a random groan when someone jostled him too much, or the blank emotionless stares he’d grown accustomed to. Shawn was actually touching him and trying to talk. He never thought he'd want to hear his son's voice so badly.

            Everyone had been surprised the first time Shawn had opened his eyes a week after his accident. The doctor explained it was normal for people in comas to randomly open their eyes, though it was still a very good sign. Good sign or not, it creeped Henry out the way his son stared at absolutely nothing. The moment of wakefulness didn’t last long; his eyes glazed over moments later, and the waiting game began again.

            Finally, after another week, he woke. Unfortunately, Shawn had come to at the exact time they were removing his breathing tube and giving him a tracheotomy. They made an incision into his neck and inserted a tube to make it easier for him to breathe. It was more long term than the one down his throat would have been.

            Dr. Keizer said that Shawn was mostly reacting to the pain, but his son had completely opened his eyes and stared at him before he'd gone out again.

            “Out” basically meant that Shawn wasn't home. He'd opened his eyes once in a while, but there'd been no sound, or reaction to any outside influences. Minimally conscious state. That's what they'd called it. Doctors seemed to have a complicated term for everything. They also said that Shawn could probably hear what they were saying so it would be a good idea to talk to him.

            At first, Henry had felt foolish talking to Shawn, especially with Gus around, but he'd started to do it more often. Gus had started also, commenting on a game on the television above Shawn's bed, or letting him know that he was going to eat the box of chocolates that Buzz had left for him so they wouldn't "go bad."

            Shawn had a lot of visitors. It seemed everyone in the police station had visited him at least once. Carlton had come by a few times under the guise of seeing how Juliet was doing, but Henry knew the truth. The detective wanted to see how Shawn was. He let the ruse go on though. It seemed to make Carlton more comfortable that way.

            Madeline was in town off and on. Whenever she had a break she was right by Shawn’s side, holding his hand, asking him to wake up. She’d called and said she would be back next week for a whole month if they needed her. As tired as he felt, Henry was more than willing to take her up on the offer.

            Juliet had gone back to work the week before, but spent all her evenings at the hospital. Watching TV with Gus, or grasping Shawn's hand telling him she loved him. For some reason Henry felt like he was intruding during those times, so he would always say he had to go get "coffee" in order to give them some alone time.

            Juliet had actually been due to arrive in a half hour, when Henry noticed something different about Shawn. Instead of staring straight at the ceiling, blinking randomly, his son's eyes seemed to move to the side. Henry watched for a moment, to make sure he wasn't seeing anything he'd just been wishing to see. He had been about to give up after a few seconds and go back to watching the game with Gus when Shawn’s eyes squinted and focused on the window looking outside.

            Henry had tried to talk to Shawn before arguing with Gus over whether he was awake enough to hear them. When Shawn touched his wrist and tried to say their names, Henry could have cried. Shawn had deliberately tried to get his attention.

            "Shawn? See Gus! I told you he's awake! What? What is it?" Henry could have sworn that Shawn was about to say something else, but then the shaking started, and Shawn's body started to go rigid. The fear in his son’s eyes, before they disappeared behind his lids, shattered his heart.

            What a time for another damn seizure.

            Henry pushed the nurse button quickly and protected his son from hurting himself on the bed. Shawn had been having one or two of these a day. All were grand mal and all were absolutely appalling to watch, but it was his duty as a father to push away his own pain and help his son through this. It didn't mean that Gus had to watch though.

            "Gus, turn away." Gus’ face paled and he turned to the wall, shutting his eyes tightly and leaning his forehead against it.

            The first time his son's best friend had seen him have a seizure, he'd run to the bathroom and thrown up. Repeatedly. Henry didn't want to have to deal with that right now; there was only so much a father could take.

            "Where are the damn nurses!" Henry pushed the button again.

            A moment later, a nurse walked in and saw what was happening. "This is the third one today isn't it?" she asked, concerned.

            Henry nodded. "Is that a bad thing?"

            The nurse looked down and helped Shawn's trembling form to stay on the bed. "I don't know. It could go either way."

            "He tried to talk to me," Henry said, remembering Shawn's actions. "He met my eyes and, I know this is going to sound nuts, but it seemed he knew he was about to have a seizure."

            “Are you sure?” the nurse asked skeptically, and Henry nodded.

            Shawn's shaking started to subside again, and his eyes finally slid shut.

            Both of them backed up from the bed, and the nurse positioned Shawn back up on his pillow. The seizures had been so frequent they'd had to put up bumpers on the sides of the railing so accidentally hitting the hard metal wouldn't break anything, but it didn't make it any less dangerous.

            "If he was awake before, he'll be out for a while now. I'll go get the doctor and hopefully get some brain scans to see if anything improved," the nurse said.

            From the corner of the room, Gus asked, "Can I look now?"

            "Yeah, he's done," Henry confirmed.

            Gus' face scrunched in disgust. "This is insane! Those can't be good for him. Isn’t there anything we can do?"

            "We're doing all we can. If Mr. Spencer is right and he was trying to communicate, that is a really great thing, but the most we can do for him until he recovers enough to start therapy is to keep him comfortable."

            Henry was silent, but nodded in agreement.

            The nurse walked out, leaving Gus and Henry looking at Shawn, who'd gone just as still and unresponsive as before. He hoped to God the nurse was right and Shawn would wake up again.

            After a couple of minutes, Gus looked at the clock and back to Henry. “Juliet should be here soon. Should we tell her what happened?”

            Henry thought about not telling her, but she had the ability to wheedle the truth out of people and she’d never forgive him if she found out. Especially if Shawn never woke up again, which was a possibility. He absentmindedly rubbed his chest over the spot he’d been shot. In the last year it had become a kind of nervous tick, like he could almost feel the pain of the bullet still lodged there whenever he was stressed.

            “Henry?” Gus prompted him again and the elder Spencer snapped out of his musings.

            “Yeah, we need to tell her. Maybe she’ll get to be here when he wakes up again,” he said hopefully.

            “You know that’s right.” Gus smiled back. “I have to get going or my boss will kill me. Tell Juliet hi for me, okay?”

            Grunting in acknowledgement, Henry waved as Gus left him alone.

            The moment the other man was gone, Henry sagged into a chair and began to cry, deep heaving sobs that he couldn’t hold in anymore.

            Not after that.

            He’d held in so much lately and it was all coming out in almost a purge of all the hurt, anger, worry, and sorrow he’d kept with him since the accident. Part of him also felt guilty for pushing his son so hard when he woke up and wondered if he’d caused the seizure himself by stressing Shawn out too soon.

            He just wanted his son back so much.

            Henry was crying so hard, he didn’t realize Juliet was in the room until a soft hand started to rub his back. He jumped and sniffed in a deep breath. “Oh, Juliet.” He sniffed again, trying to get control of himself. “Sorry. I was just…”

            Juliet held up a hand. “I met Gus in the parking lot. He told me what happened with Shawn. He woke up?”

            He took a shaky breath and rubbed a hand over his head. “Yeah, for a bit.”

            Pursing her lips, Juliet pulled up a chair next to him and rubbed his hand. “Henry, he’s your son. Everyone understands. You’re killing yourself with worry. It’s been over a month and you’ve barely left the hospital. Remember what the doctor said? You need to take care of yourself too.”

            “Look who’s talking.” It wasn’t a strong retort, but it was an accurate one. Juliet had bags under her eyes as big as his were.

            “How about this?” Juliet bargained. “Let’s go get some dinner. We need some down time and Shawn will still be here when we get back.”

            With a sigh of defeat, Henry nodded. “Okay sweetheart. Let’s go get some food.”

            He watched as Juliet left his side and leaned over his son with a whispered, “I love you,” before leading his exhausted body out the door.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5- Sound of Silence (February)

Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of Silence

Simon and Garfunkle “Sound of Silence”

            Juliet, Henry, Maddie, and Gus crowded in Dr. Keizer's small office to hear the updated news about Shawn's condition, as if they hadn't been experiencing it themselves for almost two months. Each had been forced to come to terms with Shawn's illness and the fact that he wasn't just going to bounce back from it. Not this time.

            Maddie, at Henry's request, had ended up staying in town to help take care of her son. Being a psychologist, and Shawn's mother, she had the training and ability to assist the doctors with Shawn when he was out of it, or just being stubborn. Though lately, to those who knew him at least, it seemed to be the latter more than the former.

            After what seemed like hours, Dr. Keizer finally walked in, cleared his throat, and addressed the small group in front of him. "Good afternoon. I've brought you all here to let you know the results of the cognitive tests we've done since Shawn woke up a couple weeks ago." He looked to Maddie with a smile. "I do want to thank you Dr. Spencer for the help you have given us." Maddie nodded solemnly and everyone there gave her a knowing glance.

            The doctor continued. "As you all know, Shawn seems to only have limited use of his limbs, and when he does move, he tends to get tremors. However, once we can start physical therapy, it should remedy most of that. Having been bed ridden this long isn't helping his condition any. The good news is, his ribs are almost healed, and the brace is being taken off soon. He'll just have to have wraps for a month or so until they are completely healed." Dr. Keizer smiled, happy to be able to give them some good news about Shawn considering everything else that was wrong with him.

            "What about the seizures?" Henry asked, his arms folded across his chest, obviously impatient that he even had to be there. "They haven't stopped."

            The doctor took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Over the past couple of months, he'd learned to tread lightly around Henry. "No, Mr. Spencer. They haven't stopped, but they are getting less frequent, and from what I've seen he has a bit of an early warning system."

            Gus gave the doctor a puzzled look. "Early warning system? For seizures?"

            Dr. Keizer nodded. "Some patients experience tells or 'auras' when they are about to have a seizure. They can come up anywhere from thirty seconds to a half hour before the actual seizure. They are usually phantom sights, sounds, smells or even just a 'feeling' of dread."

            "Are you saying this is why he seems to be more agitated before he goes into one?" Maddie raised an eyebrow.

            The doctor nodded. "His may be visual, which would explain why he shields and closes his eyes." Since Shawn had woken up, he did act a lot more distressed where the seizures were concerned, squinting his eyes and groaning minutes before he had one.

            "Moving on." Dr. Keizer looked farther down the page, "His speech has made some very slow progression, single words and such, but while I have hope it will continue to improve it may not. We've come to the unfortunate conclusion that Shawn may have a form of aphasia. It's a damage to the language center of the brain. It's very common in stroke victims and due to the lack of oxygen to Shawn's brain, it seems to have had the same type of effect."

            Gus looked at the doctor questioningly, "So, he can't talk?"

            "Not just that I'm afraid. We still haven't figured out how pervasive it is. He may not even be able to read, write or comprehend everything we are saying. It will take more tests, but for now we know for sure that even though he may know what he wants to say, he can't say it."

            Turning to Maddie, Henry gave her a betrayed look. "Why didn't you tell me this? You've been with him almost every day!"

            Maddie looked down sadly, "I'm sorry Henry. I just kept hoping that he would be okay. I didn't want to worry anyone." Dr. Keizer looked at her sympathetically. Making that decision, she hadn't been an impartial psychologist. She'd been a worried mom who just wanted her son to be okay.

            "Is it alright if I go on?" Dr. Keizer asked and everyone turned back to him, dreading what else he might have to say. "The emotionless behavior Shawn is displaying, while probably the most obvious, is the least concerning."

            Everyone shared a look at the statement. It had probably been the most disturbing outward symptom so far for his family.

            "We are sure that his capacity for emotions isn't gone, it probably just needs to be relearned. He seems to react to other's emotions so he may at least be aware of them, but unable to express his own due to the damage to his amygdala."

            "So, you dragged us in here just to tell us what, that my son is never going to completely recover?" Henry grumped and Maddie gave him a gentle slap on the arm for being so rude.

            Taking a deep, calming breath, Dr. Keizer addressed Henry. "I called you in because with Shawn's progress and healing he is able to be moved to Cottage Rehabilitation center as early as next month. They have better long term facilities and physical therapy areas if he begins to walk again. Also, I'm authorizing the removal of his tracheotomy today, so he'll be able to breathe on his own. Since he's still in the brace for his ribs for a bit longer, it may be painful for him at first, but with your support I'm sure he'll do fine. "

            That seemed to be hopeful news, and Juliet looked over and gave Maddie a smile.

            Dr. Keizer put down the notes. "That's all we have so far. I know it may be frustrating, but please bear with him, he's been through a lot and stability really helps in cases like this." He stood up with a sigh. "I'll get you the paperwork for the transfer. You just need to give it back later today."

            "Thank you doctor." Maddie over expressed the 'thank you' while giving Henry a contemptuous look.

            Grumbling his own thanks, Henry walked out of the room with Maddie close on his heels. Gus and Juliet, however, seemed to have another question to ask. "Is there something else detectives?"

            Gus pursed his lips. "Doctor, we were wondering how the cognitive tests went. The ones for his memory..." He trailed off.

            The doctor scratched his head. "With his limited speech capabilities and movement it's hard to know. He was able to point to some things correctly, but as to his mental capacity, we still aren't sure how much of him is in there and how much is just an automatic response. That’s what Dr. Spencer is helping us out with."

            Both Gus and Juliet deflated and looked at each other, while Dr. Keizer shook his head sadly. Letting the professional distance drop temporarily, he spoke to them frankly. "Detectives, I really am very sorry about Shawn and wish I could give you more information right now, but the brain is a complex organ and I honestly don't want to give you false hope for a complete recovery. In my experience, it just hurts the family more in the end."

            Both of them nodded, seemingly understanding his logic. "Thanks again doctor. For all your help." Juliet shook his hand.

            "It's my pleasure." Dr. Keizer shook her hand back and headed down the hallway, to tell another, less fortunate family, that their child would probably never wake up from his coma.

            Sometimes being the voice of reason was a hard burden to bear.

----------------------------------

            Once in the hallway, Juliet and Gus had an awkward silent moment before giving in and sharing a comforting hug. They’d each been so busy with Shawn and their work that they’d only been able to see each other in passing and a few times in the evenings since those first few, tense weeks.

            Juliet knew Gus was hurting for Shawn as much as she was, and she wanted to make sure he knew that she was there for him as much as she was for her boyfriend. “Gus, if you ever need to talk…”

            “I know. I’ll find you.” Gus gave her a sad, knowing smile. “How is Lassiter? I don’t see him around anymore.”

            Shrugging, Juliet explained, “He’s okay, has his hands full with Marlowe.” Gus made a grossed out face, and Juliet sighed. “That’s not what I meant. He’s just been busy, and you know how he is with emotions.”

            “You mean he has more than one?”

            Juliet smacked him lightly on the arm for the joke. People who weren’t close with her partner often thought that, but Gus knew better. “Anyway, I’m going to hang around for a while. I don’t have to be back to work till this afternoon.”

            “Say hi for me. I’ll see him tonight.”

            “I will. You take care of yourself.” Juliet touched his arm comfortingly before both friends parted and Juliet headed for Shawn’s room.

            A nurse walked into Shawn’s room at almost the same time she arrived. Her boyfriend looked to be asleep, but the nurse had a tray of soft foods for Shawn to eat and she would be waking him up to give it to him.

            It unnerved her when he slept. She always had the thought in the back of her mind that he'd never wake up. That he'd fall back into a coma at any moment. Juliet knew it was dumb to think that, but the fear was still there.

            The nurse, whom she’d seen around before, turned to her with a smile and asked, “Would you like to feed him today?”

            Juliet sighed and nodded. Feeding Shawn had become a problem lately for almost everyone. He just started refusing to eat. They couldn’t explain it. So far, Juliet and a couple nurses were the only ones who’d been able to sweet talk him into eating at all. He seemed to be losing more weight every day.

            The nurse put the tray down and walked out of the room to give them some privacy. Juliet waited until she was gone to wake Shawn. “Shawn, you awake?” She put a hand on his shoulder and he slowly opened his eyes. His usually unexpressive face scrunched in annoyance at being woken up. “Sorry, it’s time to eat.”

            Juliet grabbed the remote for the bed and raised it to get Shawn in a better position. She winced in sympathy as he squirmed to get comfortable, which looked hard while wearing a full back brace. He originally hadn't had one, but the frequent seizures had made it necessary so Shawn wouldn't keep injuring his broken ribs.

            As he settled down, She picked up the spoon and scooped up some of the applesauce and brought it closer to him. Shawn’s eyebrows rose and he turned his head.

            “Shawn, please. You have to eat. They’ve been talking about putting a feeding tube in if you keep doing this.” The long drawn out sigh Shawn let out was enough of a sign for Juliet that she could continue. she liked to think that it was the pleading in her voice that did the trick, rather than the threat of another tube.

            It was extremely hard to tell anything about how Shawn was feeling, or what he was thinking. He still couldn’t speak well, but that was expected. Like the doctor had mentioned, it was his lack of emotions that was most concerning to Juliet and everyone who’d known him before the accident.

            Ever since waking up, unless he was in pain, his face was a blank slate. Unemotional, and placid. It made him seem so disconnected and distant. Almost like he didn’t care that his friends and family were there at all. Except... Juliet could feel it. She could feel he cared. Letting her feed him was proof of that, wasn't it?

            “I heard from the doctor that they’re going to move you to the rehab hospital soon.” Juliet tried to make conversation as Shawn ate. "They're also going to take tracheotomy today, isn't that great?"

            Shawn didn’t react besides eyeing the spoon coming towards his mouth.

            Juliet held back a smile, because she could almost hear his voice in her head complaining about not being able to eat churros, waffles, pizza, and his other favorite foods. When he’d had his appendix out, Gus had smuggled in enough food for three people and he’d eaten every bit of it. The urge to smile suddenly left her completely and she started to wonder if Shawn would ever be able to do anything he used to love.

            She felt bad about it, but every once in a while she wondered if her life would be like this forever. Visiting her boyfriend in the hospital every day, never able to take him home, never able to have a normal life with the man she loved. She then noticed Shawn’s eyes had left the food, and connected with her own. Juliet was instantly ashamed she'd been thinking any of those thoughts, and quickly put a smile on her face as she continued to give Shawn his lunch.

            She was suddenly glad he wasn’t really psychic.

            ------------------------------------

            Just one more bite... As Shawn reluctantly swallowed the last bite of awful tasting hospital applesauce, his mom and dad walked into the room. His attention turned to them; they seemed happy. He hadn't seen them happy in a while. It was good, and frustrating at the same time. He wished he could be that happy, make Juliet that happy.

            His thoughts were interrupted when Juliet started cleaning up where some food had dribbled down his face. He hated being spoon fed. It made him feel like a two year old. He tried raising his arm to get it himself, but Juliet gave him a stern look, and he gave in and let her finish.

            “How was lunch?” she asked the pair.

            Maddie smiled widely. “Henry took me to a wonderful little bistro near the hospital. They had the best scones I’ve tasted since I was in France.”

            “They were okay,” Henry said bluntly, trying to keep his grumpy façade in place when Shawn could tell he was happy to have taken Maddie out to a place she’d enjoyed. “Did he eat okay?”

            Of course his dad would ask that. He’d been mother-henning him since he’d woken up. You try being a grown ass man with people shoving food in your mouth and see how much you eat, he thought bitterly.

            Juliet nodded at Henry's question. “He did good. I almost got the whole meal in him this time.”

            Meal was an overstatement in Shawn's opinion.

            “Great!” Maddie exclaimed, putting her coat down on the chair and moving closer to greet him. “Hi Goose. How are you feeling?”

            Shawn looked at Juliet. He'd seen the far off and sorrow filled look on her face when she'd been feeding him. She seemed like she really wanted to be somewhere else, besides spoon feeding her useless lump of a boyfriend. That's what I am now, a completely. Useless. Lump.

            He merely grunted to answer his mother's question. Stupid mouth. It had been the worst part. Not being able to say what he wanted. Not being able to say how much he cared about Juliet, or how much he missed movie nights with Gus, and actually getting to pick the movie. So far it had been either the nurses' choice, or whoever was visiting him at the time. If he had to watch The Notebook one more time just because one of the nurses liked it, there was going to be a homicide in his room.

            Juliet looked at her watch. "It's getting late. I should really get going to the station."

            Shawn sighed, now knowing he was right about her wanting to be somewhere else. He couldn't blame her though. He wanted to be somewhere else too.

            "Bye Shawn. I love you." She leaned down and kissed him on the head. He watched her go, and part of him hoped she really did still love him, even when he was like... this.

            "Don't worry Goose, she'll be back later." His mother brushed some of the hair out of his face, just like she did when he was a kid. She then went across the room to some objects on one of the tables.

            He craned his neck to see what she was doing, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. When she turned around with that stupid color wheel, he made a groan noise before flicking his eyes to the side to see if his dad was watching him. If he played his cards right, he could pretend to be asleep...

            "Don't even think about it kid," Henry said out of the side of his mouth.

            Shawn sighed heavily, And they called me the psychic.

            His mom gave Henry a questioning look. "What was that?"

            "Nothing, just keeping him awake."

            Maddie smiled and sat down next to him with the wheel. "Alright Goose, I'm going to say a color, and you point to it okay?"

            Shawn hated how she explained it over and over like she hadn't done this to him every day.

            "Alright, point to red."

            Lifting his shaking arm, he pointed to red... No wait... that's purple. Red... red red red... Finally, his arm complied and he pointed to the correct color.

            "Very good Shawn!" Maddie beamed and looked up at Henry.

            Good Shawn, here's a biscuit. Shawn thought bitterly and looked away. It annoyed the piss out of him when she acted like he'd climbed a mountain because he'd pointed to the right color. It was embarrassing, and his ego didn't need any more stomping on, thank you very much.

            "Shawn, can you hear me?" When he looked at her again, she seemed to sense his frustration and pressed the issue. "We need to do these so you can get better," Maddie said, completely misinterpreting his frustration. "Think of it as mental physical therapy, you'll get better at it."

            Henry frowned. "See, this is why I think the doctor is full of crap." He pointed to Shawn. "Shawn knows exactly what we're saying. I keep telling him. It's like the man's never even spent more than five minutes with him."

            Shawn was actually glad he didn't see much of the doctor. Every time he entered the room, he would get a flash of pain in his throat and his breath would hitch, like he couldn't breathe. He was sure something painful had happened to him earlier, and the doctor had been the cause of it. There were other flashes of memory, but he had so much going on around him all the time, it was hard to focus on it.

            Maddie frowned. "Dr. Keizer is a good doctor Henry. Just because you don't get along with him, doesn't mean he doesn't have Shawn's best interests in mind."

            "He's a quack." Henry snapped back at her. "He may know a lot about brains, but he doesn't know squat about our son."

            Oh my God. I'm laid up in a hospital and I still have to listen to them fight. Shawn let his head fall back to the pillow and he stared at the ceiling, ignoring their bickering. Jeez, it's like being ten again.

            "Shawn! Shawn!"

            Shawn blinked, and his eyes moved from the ceiling, and down to the now large group of doctors and nurses surrounding his bed. His heart jumped. Where did they come from? He didn't hear them all come in; it had just been his dad and mom, right?

            "Shawn. Kid, are you with us?"

            He felt someone squeeze his still injured hand and he looked to his right and saw his dad, looking very worried and... where those tears?

            "We thought we'd lost you again." His mom sniffed and wiped her eyes.

            Lost me? Where did I go? "Uh?" He winced as the doctor flashed a bright light in his eyes. "Ah!"

            Dr. Keizer sighed in relief. "I think it was just a minor episode. He just was out for a while, right Shawn?" He smiled.

            Hands off the merchandise man! Shawn tried to pull his arm out of the doctor's grip and glared. "No."

            Dr. Keizer let go and frowned. "Well, at least he's vocalizing more." He looked at Maddie, who had taken up residence at Shawn's other hand, opposite his father, who was looking at the doctor with a sneer.

            "Was out for a while!? What the hell kind of diagnosis is that? Is he going to go back into a coma at any moment and you just didn't feel the need to tell us?!" Henry raved, causing Shawn to wince away at the volume.

            Dr. Keizer grit his teeth in frustration and Shawn gave an amused snort. That's my dad!

            "Henry, these black outs happen. It's part of the brain's recovery. It was only for about ten minutes this time. I've seen it go for up to a day, more commonly just about an hour."

            Shawn looked back and forth between his dad and the doctor, who were acting like he wasn't even in the room, terror clenched tight in his chest. His breaths became shallow, and it felt like he was suffocating.

            I can pass out for days on end... and that's FINE for him? Ah hell no! Shawn, angry and frustrated, managed to rip his hand out from his mother's, and land a solid hit on the doctor's arm.

            "OW! What the?" Dr. Keizer looked at him in disbelief. "Did he just hit me?"

            "Ass." Shawn made damn sure that one came out clear as a bell.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6- Homies (March)

If you wasn't blood, would you still have love?
Or in fact does the blood make you think you have to love?

Look, I probably love my family more than anybody here
But my homies are family too, third cousins' get outta here.

Insane Clown Posse- "Homies"

            Henry was actually in a good mood the day they'd finally moved Shawn to the rehab hospital. For one, Shawn would be getting a lot more one on one time with the therapists, not just Maddie. And two, that prick of a doctor wouldn't be around. Sure, he was a good doctor, but that didn't make him any less of, to use Shawn's words, an ass. Of course, the doctor just passed Shawn's outburst off as a delusion, a onetime occurrence of his brain misfiring and blurting out information.

            Sure it was.

            As they wheeled Shawn into the facility, Henry looked at his son and could tell he was nervous. Despite still being groggy from his last seizure, which had happened about a half hour before, his eyes still darted everywhere to take in his new surroundings as his bed rolled down the hallway. Henry also couldn't help but notice his son's eyes lingering on the other patients.

            Some were in wheel chairs, others with walkers, or sitting working on hand-eye coordination. Most were smiling, which Henry found promising.

            Shawn's features shifted. Though he still wasn't able to express emotions well, Henry could usually tell by his raised eyebrows and pace of breathing how he was feeling. Right now, Shawn was getting upset. He started to shift in the bed and move his still painful torso to get a better look around. The brace still wrapped around him was preventing much of that. They’d had to keep it on longer than the doctor had said, but if it kept Shawn from re-breaking things it wasn’t all bad.

            "Shawn, it’s okay. You're going to be fine here kid."

            Gus, who was right behind them asked, "What is it?"

            Henry did his best to quell Gus' worries. The last thing he needed was the young man to burst into tears and upset Shawn even more. "It's nothing. He's just feeling antsy." Shawn's eyes moved to him almost warily.

            "It's scary that you know that." Gus shook his head.

            Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by shouting and the clattering of metal trays. The entire entourage stopped and watched as a young woman was carried out of her room kicking and screaming. When she spoke, it was obvious that her speech was impaired. Not as much as Shawn's, but it was still hard to make out what she was saying.

            "You're all out to get me! Get off! No!" One of the nurses managed to get her sitting in a chair and got her calmed down.

            "Oh my gosh, what's wrong with her?" Gus asked aloud.

            One of the nurses, a red haired young woman, heard him and looked back at the girl who was still shaking her head, but not actively trying to hit the nurses anymore. "She was in a car accident about nine months ago. Poor thing gets delusions that we are holding her against her will."

            "Reeeally?" Gus drawled, and Henry rolled his eyes. He probably hadn't registered a thing the pretty nurse said.

            Looking back to his son, Henry cursed as he noticed Shawn breaths were hard inhales and exhales and he was gripping the sides of the bed so hard his knuckles were white. It had been happening every once and a while when Shawn was getting particularly upset, right before an outburst. Henry turned to the orderly, getting his attention. "We should get him to his room."

            The man saw the same thing Henry did and nodded, wheeling him forward at a faster pace. Gus had taken his eyes off the woman long enough to notice that they were leaving him behind, and jogged to catch up.

            By the time they got Shawn to the room, the young man had started to calm down, but he wouldn't look anyone in the eye. The orderly bent down to talk to him, "Now Shawn, I'm going to go get the doctor okay? You stay here with your dad and friend. They'll watch over you."

            Once he'd left, Henry pulled up a chair and sat next to Shawn, who had started to breathe harder again, almost turning red with the effort. Kid looks like he's about to blow a gasket. "Shawn, what is it?"

            Shawn opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying again. "I n−not..."

            Gus and Henry looked at each other in confusion. If Shawn was trying so hard to speak, it must be important. “You're not what Shawn?" Gus prompted.

            "Li−ke th−” Shawn tried to push out the last word forcefully, but it wouldn’t come.

            “Like them.” Henry whipped his head in Gus’ direction after he'd finished Shawn's sentence and saw the distraught look on his face. “Shawn…”

            The other man looked at Henry for help but, Henry could only stare at his son, who'd finally looked up at him. Shawn still breathed in heavy huffs, his shoulders shaking. As his boy's hazel eyes bored into him, almost willing him to understand, it hit the elder Spencer like a brick to the face. Shawn wasn't trying to make a statement, he was asking a question. He didn't want to be like them, but he had the feeling that he probably was.

            God, how could I be so stupid... He grabbed Shawn's hand and squeezed it comfortingly, waiting for his son's breathing to slow.

Gus took his cue from him and grabbed Shawn's other hand. He was stifling some whimpering sobs. He’d finally gotten it too and his sympathetic instincts had kicked in.

            The thing was, everyone had always thought Shawn was getting angry or acting out when he'd gotten like this in the past. He’d usually throw things or turned away when it happened, so it was a reasonable assumption for everyone to make. His muted emotions didn’t help any either. The doctor had said that they shouldn't give him attention when he acted out, so they'd usually ended up ignoring it, like you would a tantrum, until Shawn finally calmed down. Henry had been especially hard on him during those times, mostly out of habit and trying to get him to 'behave'.

            Now, his heart was breaking for his boy, because Henry finally saw it for what it really was. The slumped and shaky shoulders, the hitched breathing... it wasn't Shawn getting angry or defiant. It was and always had been, his son crying.

            "It's okay Shawn. We're here for you kid."

-------------------------------------------

            Gus made it to Central Coast after visiting with Shawn with only seconds to spare. He’d missed way more work than he could make up since the accident and his superiors had started to take notice. Lately they dropped subtle hints that if he was late again, it wouldn't be good for his advancement.

            He frowned as his stomach growled at him menacingly. Gus hadn’t had time to eat and would now have to wait till after work to grab something. An empty stomach always made him cranky, so between that and the stress of Shawn's move, he wasn't a very happy guy.

            Shawn’s transfer had gone a lot worse than he thought it would, and Gus was still wiping away tears, trying not to look like he’d bawled for an hour with his best friend and his best friend’s dad. He had an image to maintain. A professional one.

            He waded through the small walkways between the cubicles, dodging people hurrying around like little worker ants, and made it to his office. After the debacle with his boss kicking the bucket, he hadn’t gotten to keep the nice promotion they’d given him, but he wasn’t put back in his old position either. His new job wasn’t much of a step up, but at least he had his own office.

            Pursing his lips, he remembered his other office. The Psych office. Karen was kind enough to consider Shawn's accident work related, and had offered to pay both Shawn's hospital bills and the rent on the Psych building, but Henry and Gus wouldn't have it. Henry was taking care of the rent, and Gus continued to pay the utilities. Both weren't under the assumption that Shawn would be back to form any time soon, or completely back to form... but it made both of them feel better knowing Psych was still there for Shawn if he needed it.

            Gus physically shook the thought off and with a deep breath, jumped right into his work. He had to stay focused today, make a good show for the higher ups and get out of there as soon as he could to go back to the hospital. At least until Shawn was acclimated better to the new place.

            While he was still thinking about Shawn, one of the assistants came in with some paperwork for the project he was working on. Scratch that… the project he HAD to work on. The bad thing about having your own office is that they expected you to use it, and with a reduced route load, he'd been stuck at his desk for almost the last two weeks straight working on statistical analysis of the new topical wart creams. The worst thing about it was having to look at the before and after pictures.

            Ew.

            "Here are the files you requested for the statistic's Mr. Guster."

            Not even glancing up from the paperwork, he distractedly acknowledged her with a raised hand and a "Thank you Alice."

            While she was placing the files on his desk, Gus overheard a conversation between two of his co-workers happening right outside the room at the water cooler. At first he was annoyed by the distraction, but the topic of the chat eventually caught his interest.

            "So, our date was going great right, and I'm thinking we could maybe go all the way, you know what I'm saying..." Gus could almost hear the man's eyebrows wiggle in innuendo. "Then she tells me she helps take care of her mentally challenged brother."

            Gus raised his head and he finally looked at who was speaking. He was one of the young 'up and comers' as his superiors put it. He scoffed when he'd heard that. The kid will probably end up at some dead end unappreciated desk job just like... Gus balked at the thought and remembered that 'up and comer' was a phrase they used for him. Like someone else who isn't me.

            The young man continued the statement of his most recent conquest, "So, that was a deal breaker man. I don't want to be attached to some girl taking care of a retard and having to hang around him all day. Know what I mean?"

            The man he was talking to looked uncomfortable at the conversation but nodded anyway.

            "I mean, how can they let people like that walk around? They all belong in some home, away from normal people where they can be as gross and stupid as they want to be..."

            Alice, who'd finished putting the papers on Gus' desk, had been listening in too and tsked in disgust. "The nerve of some people!" She turned to him, most likely to get his opinion on the situation, but stopped when she saw the look on his face.

            Gus was furious. All he could think about was how the jerk was talking about Shawn too. His friend wasn't born mentally challenged, but was still mentally challenged nonetheless. Even so, he was two hundred percent better than that guy could ever be.

            He shot out of his chair and stormed up to the young man, resentment written all over his face. "Sir, what you just said about the mentally challenged was unwarranted and completely offensive."

            Everyone within ear short turned to look at him and the building confrontation.

            "What? The thing about retards?" The man was obviously confused, as he probably thought everyone else shared his opinion on the subject.

            Gus pointed a finger at his chest and took a few steps forward, backing him into a wall. The man's eyes were wide, not in fear, but surprise. "You are an ignorant. Inconsiderate. Bigot." He accentuated each word with a hard poke. "You have no idea who in this building may have a mentally challenged mom, dad, sibling, or best friend, and no one wants to hear your opinions on the subject, so why don't you just shut your mouth."

            Stepping back, but still breathing hard, he waited for the man's reply. Surrounded by his co-workers, he withered under their gazes and made the smart choice to not commit career suicide. He nodded, muttering a "Sorry."

            Gus snorted and turned around, thoroughly proud of himself for standing up for his friend. He started walking away until he heard the socially beaten man behind him grumble. "Goddamn retard lover."

            That was it. That was the straw that broke Gus' back. He spun around, bringing his fist in an arch towards the man's head. As he swung, he remembered Henry Spencer's words for Shawn on fist fighting.

            "Always aim past the person, not for where you want to hit, and put your weight into it."

            Gus aimed for the wall behind the guy's ill-informed head and smashed him hard right in the left cheekbone, sending him crumpling to the ground in a dazed heap. Gus briefly hoped he'd given him brain damage just before the pain shot up his wrist, threatening to break his tough guy image.

            His boss came up to him a moment later, pushing through the stunned sales people. "Mr. Guster! Did you just assault a co-worker? You're fired!"

            Gus looked his boss right in the eye, the pain and the anger combining to give him more guts than he thought he'd ever have. "No, if you are going to hire and support these types of people, I don't think I want to work here anymore. I QUIT!"

            His former boss flinched back at the words as Gus stormed into his former office. Once his back was to everyone, he gripped his wrist and made a pained squeak. He'd definitely sprained something. Unfortunately, when he looked to his left, Alice, the assistant, was watching him. Sucking up his pain, he started to clean out his desk.

            Instead of leaving, Alice approached him, and laid a soft hand on his injured wrist. "What you did was really brave." Gus looked up and saw she was smiling. He'd never noticed how pretty she actually was. Probably because he'd never really seen her smile before. "My uncle has a mental disorder. We've always had to put up with guys like that. You learn to ignore it."

            Gus shook his head and put down the items in his hand. "I can't believe I just did that. How could I just do that?" He had no idea what he was going to do. He'd just quit the only job he'd ever had since college.

            Alice, instead of answering his question, put a hand on his arm and asked, "Who do you have that's mentally challenged." He looked at her in surprise, and she smirked. "It's fairly obvious after that."

            "My friend got a traumatic brain injury a few months ago. He just transferred to the rehab clinic downtown."

            She gasped and gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Grabbing a paper from the desk, she jotted something down and put it in his hand. "If you ever need to talk or, you know, have coffee, give me a call."

            Gus stared at the paper in his hand as she left the office. A smile spread on his face despite the pain in his wrist, which he'd have to get looked at since he was going to the hospital anyway, and he was still grinning as he left Central Coast Pharmaceuticals for the very last time.

-------------------------------------

            Carlton had his hand on his chin as he filled out paperwork, and more paperwork. It was the non-glamorous side of being a detective. A twenty minute stand-off could easily mean four hours of filling out forms in triplicate. Five if he pulled his gun, which was most of the time.

            He looked over at Juliet, who was in the same predicament, and noticed the bags under her eyes. She was still there though, every day. Still at the top of her game despite heading to the hospital almost immediately after each shift to see Shawn. He had a lot of respect for his partner, but she'd increased it two-fold with how well she was handling everything. If he'd been in the same situation with Marlowe, Carlton knew for a fact he'd be a babbling mess after the first week.

            A few minutes of paperwork later, a groan of frustration and the thunk of a head hitting his partner's desk got his attention once more.

            Juliet pointed to the paperwork in front of her and exclaimed, "This! This is insane! Fifteen forms for the drunk I pulled over this afternoon. Murder cases have less than this!"

            Carlton smirked. "So you're saying there should be more murders so there's less paperwork?"

            Juliet gave him a sarcastic scowl before going back to writing, but he could have sworn he'd seen the ghost of a smile cross her lips.

            After another hour, it was time for them to leave. Juliet rose and groaned as she stretched the kinks out of her muscles from sitting too long. She leaned over and grabbed her coat, no doubt going to head right to the hospital. "Catch you later partner."

            "O'Hara!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

            She turned and gave him a questioning look.

            "How is Spencer doing...not that I really think about it much, you know."

            Juliet's eyes lit up, obviously happy he had asked. "Good, considering. He got put into Cottage Rehabilitation Center last week and they have him sitting up and moving his arms better already."

            Carlton nodded, honestly glad to hear he was doing better, but dreading the words he knew were coming next.

            "You should go see him."

            Crap.

            Carlton scratched his head and looked at his paperwork. "O'Hara, you know I'm busy."

            "Carlton!" He winced at her harsh tone, knowing that it wasn't smart to use that excuse with her. Being his partner, she knew exactly how much work he had... or didn't have. "His doctor says he needs support and to know that people around him care."

            "Look, I don't know why I should go see him." Carlton complained. "We weren't exactly close or anything." He didn't want to say they weren't friends, because she'd call him on that one too. "Besides, he probably doesn't want to see me." She let out a long suffering sigh and Carlton felt like a jerk for putting more stress on her. I can't believe I'm doing this. "Fine." He gave in. "If it will make you happy. I'll go see him."

            Juliet smiled widely and gave him a hug.

            Carlton patted her on the back. "Alright alright, don't make a big deal of it O'Hara. I'm just going to go in and say hello..."

--------------------------------------

            "...Just go in and say hello." Carlton grumbled to himself as he stood outside of Shawn's room. He looked in and saw that Gus was inside. Juliet had apparently not gotten there yet but, according to her, Gus had spent a lot of time with Shawn since quitting his job. He'd heard the story, and was rather impressed by the gumption the former salesman had shown for his friend.

            He turned his gaze to Shawn, who was propped up in the bed watching Gus who was obviously telling a story. Shawn looked better, but he couldn't have gotten much worse than the last time Carlton had seen him. He did look thinner and more frail, though his eyes still held the spark that had been the main source of frustration and annoyance in his life for the last eight years. Be that as it may, Carlton was glad Shawn was still in there somewhere.

            "Sir?"

            He turned to see a nurse watching him warily.

            "Uh, yeah. I'm just..." Carlton pointed to Shawn's room and the woman's face brightened.

            "OH! You're here to visit Shawn!" She grabbed him by the arm before he could say anything else and opened the door. "Hey!" The nurse said in a sing song voice as if she were addressing a small child, "Look Shawn. You have another visitor."

            Carlton scrunched his nose at the woman, who waved and left him alone with Gus and Shawn. Her sing song voice when she talked to Shawn was at least two pitches higher than when she'd talked to him out in the hallway. Is she talking to him like he's a baby?

            Shawn's head followed nurse's exit. His face still didn't show any emotion, but knowing Shawn, he was probably glaring at her.

            "Lassiter, I haven't seen you around. How are you doing?" Gus asked.

            Doing his best to not look uncomfortable, Carlton noticed Gus’ wrist and found his chance to change the subject, “What the hell did you do to your hand Guster?”

            Looking at his wrist, wrapped tightly in a blue brace he shrugged, “Shawn and I got into a boxing match and he was too quick for me. I punched a wall.”

            Carlton smirked, knowing it wasn’t true, but caught the humor anyway.

            Shawn looked at him and moved his arm towards his friend. Gus didn’t see it at first, but after a moment he followed Carlton’s stunned gaze and he realized Shawn was going for a fist bump. By Gus’ reaction, it was probably the first since the accident almost three months before. It was a very promising gesture.

            Once Gus touched his good hand to Shawn’s closed fist, Shawn dragged it back, seemingly satisfied.

They stood in awkward silence for a minute or so before Carlton finally addressed Shawn. "Spencer, O'Hara tells me you're doing well."

            Shawn's eyebrows raised, but that was the only reaction he got. So Gus spoke for him. "He's coming around. It's better here... I mean he seems to like it better here. Right?"

            The subject of their conversation picked randomly at his blanket.

            Carlton tried his best to not get the willies from Shawn's very un-Shawn like behavior. Juliet had touched on things, but it was hard to grasp just how disturbing it was until he saw it for himself. "Well, uh. I just came to see how everything was going, and O'Hara should be here soon. I'll let you get back to...whatever it was you were doing." Carlton turned to leave.

            "La−Las..."

            Carlton spun around to see Shawn sitting up straighter, trying to get his attention.

            "St−ay."

            Carlton’s first reaction was to frown and say something harsh, until he realized Shawn wasn’t making another Lassie joke at his expense. He actually wanted him to stay a while. Carlton’s second reaction was to think of a reason not to stay.

            Paperwork? No.

            Marlowe needing him? No. She was visiting her brother for the next couple hours.

            There was really no reason that he couldn’t stay a while, if it would make Shawn happy. “Alright Spencer, but you guys better have something more entertaining than Gusters’ stories about doctors and which snot reducers they bought.” He curled his lip in disgust.

            “I was not talking about snot reducers. I’ll have you know that mucus glands are in other places besides the nose!”

            Carlton almost laughed when Shawn turned to Gus and stuck his tongue out, indicating disgust. He totally agreed. “Too much information Guster.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7- Rehab (May-June)

It's not just my pride. It's just 'til these tears have dried.

They tried to make me go to rehab, I said, "No, no, no"

Amy Winehouse – “Rehab”

            He was in hell. A white walled, craft making, baby talking hell… and there was nothing he could do about it. A month of this and it didn’t look like it was going to end soon. Shawn had to admit that this place was better than the hospital, if only room wise, but having to see so many people around him just struggling to get better? Completely depressing. Not to mention the fact that every single minute of every single day, he was reminded how much of an invalid he was.

            “Come on Shawn, we have to lift you up now.”

            Case in point.

            One of the nurses, named Sarah, was currently trying to get him to sit up and move his feet over so he could slip into the wheel chair by the bed. “You can do it Shawn.”

            No, he couldn’t do it. That was the point of being here wasn’t it? He gave her his best glare, but those had been pretty ineffective as of late. Maybe his dad told the nurses how to deal with him.

            Speaking of things he couldn’t do, besides the obvious physical stuff, he couldn’t write well anymore. He originally hoped it was because he could barely move his limbs, but once he'd gotten that back... somewhat... he still found himself unable to do even a scribbly "hello." It was almost like the written word eluded him as much as the spoken one, which sucked big time because it would make it a lot easier to communicate.

            Shawn started wondering if maybe that’s what they meant about the 'side effects' of his injury.

At one point he also thought about seeing if he could type, but visions of Steven Hawking flashed through his head and he didn’t want to imagine himself in a wheelchair telling jokes and having psychic visions with a robot voice. It may be all well and good for that guy, but Shawn just couldn’t do it. His brain pan might be injured, but at least he still had his pride.

            “Let’s see if we can get you to go to the bathroom before we go.”

            Okay, scratch off pride too. He shook his head.

            Sarah scrunched her face in concern. “Shawn, you seem down today. Is something the matter?”

            "No."

            She gave him a disbelieving look. "Alright then. Just please tell me if you start to feel any pain."

            To be honest, he hadn't felt much pain in a while. His ribs had healed from the accident, though they still got stiff every once in a while. They'd also taken off the brace, mostly because he kept trying to take it off himself. As for his tracheotomy wound, Gus said he had a manly scar there, but it had been a while since he'd seen himself in the mirror, so he had to take his friend's word for it.

            "Up we go!"

            Shawn tried to help pull on the hanging grip above his bed, but he doubted his weak muscles did much to lift himself.

            Once in the wheelchair, Sarah quickly pushed him down the hall through a larger commons area that consisted of a bunch of couches, a TV and some tables with various games and crafts on them. As usual, it had at least five or six other patients milling around. A few of them were watching TV, others were doing crafts or talking.

            Shawn was surprised at the range of symptoms that traumatic brain injuries caused. As difficult as it was to communicate, Shawn thanked the stars he still had most of his facilities intact. Inwardly anyway. Not everyone the clinic had traumatic brain injuries, or to use the lingo around here "TBI." There were some who had spine injuries or even simple knee sprains from sports. This room however, was strictly for the residents of the TBI section. He didn't know many of them very well. Despite most of the staff's prodding, Shawn tended to stay in his own room, letting Gus and Juliet keep him company.

            "We're a little early for your appointment Shawn, so I'm going to let you mingle a while," Sarah said with a smile.

            So this was her plan all along. She brought him early on purpose so he'd have to be social. Yeah, I'll just hold a conversation with the catatonic in the corner. I wonder if he knows any good jokes. He managed to give her an unhappy look.

            Sarah's shoulders slumped. "You need to get out of that room Shawn. Besides, everyone is curious about you, being a psychic and all."

            Taken by surprise by the comment, Shawn glanced around at the others in the room, who where now looking at him, the ones who could look anyway. It wasn't like he had anything against them; he was just really self-conscious about everything lately. Luckily, no one had really mentioned or tried to ask if he was still "psychic" after his ordeal, so hearing her say something about it was a surprise.

            Taking his silence as consent (people tended to do that to him a lot) she pushed him next to a boy in his late teens who he'd seen around, but never really spoken to. Like Shawn, the young man didn't speak to anyone much. It's probably why Sarah stuck them next to each other. Killing two, uncooperative, birds with one stone.

            "Hey Matt, could you keep Shawn company for a while?" Matt continued to work on some kind of beaded necklace, but gave a non-committal grunt. "Great! Have fun you two."

            After Sarah left, Matt and Shawn looked at each other for a moment, before turning away to do their own thing. Shawn sighed and shakily lifted his hand to grab the puzzle in front of him, but it was slightly out of his reach. He gave up and just stared at the table, hating himself and his predicament.

            To his surprise, he heard sliding and looked up to see the puzzle was now within reach. Matt then went back to his beads once more. Okay, maybe the dude is cool. Shawn reached over and stared putting pieces together lackadaisically.

            "Hey everyone! How you all doing?" Shawn's head shot up and he groaned inwardly at who had just walked in the room. Pete. The guy was one of the male nurses and a grade "A+" douche bag.

            With other people around, he was everyone's buddy. A star employee that helped out without having to be asked, and who loved working with the handicapped. When the other nurses weren't looking however, or he was alone with the residents, his winning personality would vanish and he would be instantly cruel and petty. He'd call them names like "Tard-o" or at times even physically harm the patients that couldn't fight back. Nothing too hard, of course; he wouldn't want to leave marks.

            Shawn had seen someone try to tell a nurse about him, but who would believe them over their 'golden boy?' Later, she'd been targeted ruthlessly. Now, everyone was under the unanimous decision to deal with him when they had to, and not do anything to catch his attention.

            "How is everyone today?" Pete asked the nurse supervising the section.

            "Doing well. They all seem to be in good moods this morning." She smiled warmly, completely oblivious to Pete's ulterior motives. Shawn knew though, he could see it in his posture and the way he was looking around at everyone, until his eyes met Shawn's.

            Great. He'd been spotted. Shawn didn't know whether it was because he wasn't out and around much, or his "psychic" reputation, but Pete just loved to rattle his cage. It wasn't like Shawn could tell anyone about it either. So far, it hadn't been much besides name calling, but the glint in Pete's eye spoke volumes and Shawn got very nervous.

            Pete smiled at the nurse. "You know, I could watch them for a while if you want to go on your break."

            "No! No no no..." One of the female patients next to the nurse almost wailed. She was the one he'd seen upset when he'd first arrived at the rehab center.

            Misinterpreting her distress, the nurse gave the woman a hug, "Don't worry, I'll be right back." She turned back to Pete. "I'll take you up on that. I need to give my kids a call." She rose and with one last look in the room, walked out.

            It was like watching a shark. Pete had the whole room to himself and he'd already picked his victim.

            Oh shit. Shit shit shit! Shawn looked around for anything to get him out of what was coming. His eyes landed on the beads that Matt was using. That could work. He used all of his might and discretely motioned at the beads. The other man gave him a questioning look, but handed him a large fist full of them.

            By the time Pete came within five feet of him, with his wide predatory grin, Shawn had his ammo at the ready. He had to time it just right. Just a little closer... He allowed his arm to go limp, and let the beads fly.

            The tiny spheres rolled right under the man's feet as he took his last step towards them. "Hey dumbasses, what−" His snide remark was interrupted as his left foot slid out from under him and he landed hard on his back, the wind completely knocked out of him.

            A chorus of gasps and laugher erupted as Pete lay on the floor gasping for air. Matt turned to Shawn with a shocked expression and Shawn gave him a shrug.

            "YOU!" Pete shouted, his voice finally back as he got up from the floor. He was now more wary of the beads rolling in every which direction and avoided them. He grabbed Shawn's wheelchair and spun him around, ready to give him a thorough beating for what he'd done.

            Shawn flinched away and was preparing for the hit, when Sarah rounded the corner. "Pete! What are you doing!?"

            Thinking quickly, Pete grabbed Shawn's hands, tightly squeezing them. "You shouldn't throw beads Shawn, someone could get hurt." He emphasized the last two words with a tighter grip, promising Shawn that there'd be pain coming for him. "I had to stop him from making a huge mess," he said, turning to Sarah.

            "Shawn." She gave him an exasperated sigh. "Come on Pete, let's go get a broom."

            With one last nasty glare at Shawn, Pete followed Sarah to the closet on the opposite side of the room.

            Shawn breathed a sigh of relief at the close call. He looked up and saw that Matt was still staring at him. "W−wh..."

            "What?" Matt finished for him and he nodded. "Next time you do that, I'll bring my jacks so he'll have something to land on."

            Letting out a huff of laughter, Shawn decided that he really liked the kid, and figured they'd get along just fine.

----------------------------------------------

            "Here we are!" Sarah announced as she rolled him into the physical therapy room. It had taken a while to get all the beads up, but eventually he had to go to 'rehab.'

            They had many such rooms in the center. This one had parallel bars, a large round ball, and what looked like a ring toss game in the center of the room. The flat screen TV, which seemed to be in every room, was on some sort of news channel and his physical therapist, Aiden, was watching it as they entered.

            Aiden was a young man of about twenty two. He was nice enough, but his perkiness got on Shawn's nerves quickly. He turned around and smiled. "Hey there Shawn! You ready to do some pull ups today?"

            Shawn stared at him.

            "C'mon buddy, you'll do great! In fact, you did so well last time, I'm sure you're just a couple weeks from making the Olympics." He winked at Sarah, like he thought Shawn couldn't see he was just trying to make him not feel so much like a cripple.

            Sarah shook her head, "He seems a bit moody. Go easy on him okay?" She put her hand on Aiden's arm and gave it a light squeeze.

            Dating. Shawn figured out instantly. He knew from their one sided conversations that neither of them were married. Maybe they'd decided to finally get together. He was perfectly happy to just let them ogle each other. The longer they made doe eyes, the less time he'd have to work out.

            Too quickly, Sarah left and Aiden turned his attention to Shawn. "Ready to have some fun?"

            Oh yeah, ring toss and exercise. Woo hoo...

            After almost an hour of moving from one activity to another, half heartedly tossing and failing to get any of the rings on that small stick and rolling around on a stupid giant ball, it was time for Shawn to try the dreaded parallel bars. He hated them because Aiden had to hold him up most of the time. Shawn never was one to want to be literally "man handled" while trying to steady himself on those bars. Nevertheless, he was glad it wasn't his mom. She mostly stuck with the mental stuff, which was her specialty anyway.

            Aiden put Shawn's wheelchair on one end of the bars. He'd started to lift him up, but before he could, a nurse popped her head in. "Aiden? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

            The physical therapist nodded and turned to Shawn. "Don't go anywhere Shawn." Aiden winked again, and Shawn was starting to wonder if he had some sort of tic. He'd known someone with that problem before.

            Shawn sat there staring at the floor for a while before he'd had enough. His eyes wandered to the TV for a moment before they settled on the bars in front of him.

Maybe...

He glanced around to make sure no one was looking before he lifted his arms and grasped the edge of the bars. His body shook with the effort and sweat instantly broke out on his face, but he managed to slowly pull himself up.

            That wasn't so hard, he mused, even though the only way he was managing to stay upright was by draping his body over one of the rails. Pushing, he tried to inch himself along. He almost took a header as his uncooperative left leg gave out, but he managed to barely hang on even though he was probably going to have a large bruise on the arm he'd caught himself with.

            Okay... slow.

            It was almost painfully slow, but Shawn found a rhythm of grabbing and dragging that got him halfway across, all by himself. Granted, it was only about six feet, but it was still better than nothing.

            Suck it rehab! he thought triumphantly. He tried to go farther, when something on the TV caught his attention.

            "....Trevor Jones, current city administrator, has decided to run against interim-mayor Tom Swaggerty in this year's mayoral race. Swaggerty, who took over the position of mayor after the unfortunate passing of former mayor Gavin Channing, had this to say on the subject…”

            Trevor Jones?

            Paying more attention to the news, and forgetting to keep holding himself up, Shawn's arms gave way, sending him down. He smacked the top of his head on the other bar, before landing on the hard floor right on his back. "Oof!" His eyes closed tightly as he breathed through his teeth, riding out the pain. That was stupid.

            The crash of his body hitting the floor must have been heard by Aiden, who was just standing out in the hallway. Before Shawn could hear more from the TV, he was running back into the room. "Shawn! How the hell did you get all the way over here?! Someone give me some help!"

            A couple orderlies that were close by rushed in and helped Aiden pick him up.

            "Did he fall out of his chair?" one of them asked.

            "Not unless he fell ten feet out of his chair. He had to have walked, or crawled."

            Shawn shook his head, trying to clear it, while internally repeating the name 'Trevor Jones' over and over. He knew it. It had something to do with his accident. He gripped his head and pinched his eyes shut tightly. What am I missing?!

            Suddenly, it came back. Size 9 shoes. Murder... Trevor Jones is a murderer! He couldn't be mayor, it would be a disaster for the city.

            He looked up at the relieved faces of the hospital staff. He coughed and tried to point at the TV, wanting to hear more of the news story; it might give him something more to go on.Aiden looked relieved that he hadn't been seriously hurt. He glanced at the TV and smirked at him. "Hey, next time you wanna change the channel, let me know first."

            "No." Shawn shook his head and gripped it. It really hurt, and trying to talk to these guys was hopeless. Maybe Juliet could help him! "W− Jul," he managed to choke out.

            "Don't worry, we'll call her okay? Let's get you back to your room for now. It looks like you're going to have quite the bruise on your head."

-------------------------------------

            When Juliet got to the clinic, she hurried through the doors, not wanting to wait another minute before she saw her boyfriend. His physical therapist had called her about two hours ago, letting her know Shawn had an accident during therapy and he wanted to see her. She'd wanted to come running instantly, but the man said it was nothing serious, so she managed to finish her shift before heading over.

            Shawn was sitting up in bed as if he was waiting for her when she entered. It caused her to smile because he almost looked excited. His facial expressions were ever so slowly coming back. Even so, the therapists were saying he was relearning them pretty quickly. Juliet liked to think it was because he was such an expressive person before. She walked up and put a hand on his face tenderly. "Hey Shawn. How are you? Aiden said you hit your head."

            He moved his head away from her touch, wincing, and grabbed her hand. She first thought she'd hurt him, but he didn't let go of her hand. "Jul−" Shawn paused and took a breath, trying again. "Need...y−" He pursed his lips and looked around the bed as if searching for something. By the way he slumped his shoulders a moment later, she guessed he hadn't found it.

            "Shawn, it's okay..." Juliet started before Shawn suddenly took his hands from her and started to repeatedly smack himself on the head.

            "Stup! Stu−"

            "Oh my God! Shawn don't, please!" She tried to stop him. The doctor had said he had angry outbursts, but she'd yet to see them before this. "What's wrong? What can I do?"

            Practically growling, Shawn grabbed the water bottle by the bed and hurled it across the room, before putting his head in his hands.

            A nurse came in the room after hearing the noise, "What's going on?"

            Having no idea why her boyfriend was acting this way, she shook her head and started to rub his back. "I don't know... he just started getting angry." Was it something I did?

            "He's been having a bad day today." The nurse, her name tag said Sarah, shot Shawn a sympathetic look. "I heard about his tumble from Aiden and was actually just heading here to see if he wanted to go sit and socialize with the others to make him feel better. We're doing crafts in group today."

            Shawn made a snort noise and lifted his head from his hands at her question. He'd stopped shaking at least, but she had a feeling his answer would be a resounding no. "Would it be okay if I sat with him a while? His mother is heading over in a bit for cognitive therapy, and I'd like to spend some time with him."

            Sarah gave her a knowing look and nodded. "Alright, but you can't hide in here forever mister." She shook a finger at Shawn and walked out of the room.

            Juliet watched her go sadly, knowing she was right. Shawn couldn't stay in his room forever. Arms coming around her middle from behind her made her jump. She turned to face Shawn, who had grabbed her in a big hug.

            "S−s−orry," he said slowly.

            She turned to face him and hugged him closer. "It's okay Shawn. I know you want to talk to me, but it's okay if you can't."

            The rest of her stay was uneventful, but she could tell that just being there was a comfort to him, and that was enough for her.

------------------------------

            "Shawn, stop slapping me! I have to study!" Gus complained as he tried to study for his pharmacist test and Shawn was trying to point to the door hanger Gus was using as a bookmark. "Vote Jones" it had said.

------------------------------

            "Kid, quit grabbing at the paper. I'm trying to see if the Seabirds won yesterday.." Henry thwarted his attempts to point at Trevor's picture in the newspaper he'd been reading.

------------------------------

            "Goose!? You don't need to throw them! Maybe we should wait on this one..." Maddie had stopped their cognitive therapy session early when he'd started to toss the scrabble letter pieces in frustration when he couldn't even spell anything more complicated than "hi", when he really wanted to say, "Arrest Trevor Jones! He's a murderer!" Granted, it was a long shot, but he was at the end of his rope idea wise.

------------------------------

            "Spencer, I know this is you! I don't care if you're a head case, crank calls are a crime!" Shawn struck out with Carlton too when he'd tried to call the station after the detective hadn't visited him in over two weeks. He'd only called ten times, in two hours...

------------------------------

            Shawn thought over his attempts at getting help as he stared at the ceiling in his room. He'd done everything he could think of, tried with everyone he knew, and no one took him seriously. They all saw him as 'confused,' 'pathetic,' and did their best to humor him, all while completely brushing him off.

            Shawn had even tried talking to the nurses.

            Well, talking was a bit of a stretch. Shawn sat for almost an hour while his room was cleaned, getting out what he wanted to in half syllables and drawn out words. The nurse just smiled at him and made a report that he'd been more vocal than normal. One of his doctors came in and congratulated on him practicing, before becoming really concerned when he'd fallen face down on the bed, screaming in frustration.

            He was at a loss. The election was getting closer and closer every day. Sure it was only June, and the election wasn't until November, but he'd already wasted months of time being bed ridden and who knew how long it would take to get someone to get what he was trying to say.

            There was only one other option left; He needed to get out of there and do something about it himself. He'd get out, find the evidence and they'd have to listen to him then!

The only thing standing in the way of that, was his incompliant limbs. To get out he'd have to walk, not just be able to stand by himself and collapse after a minute, but really walk. It seemed impossibly hard, but not as hard as spending almost three weeks playing charades to no avail.

            Shawn sighed and rubbed his face wearily as he realized that in order to get back on his feet again, he needed to do something drastic. Something unthinkable. Something he'd said he'd never do in a million years... He'd have to actually try at rehab.

            The irony wasn't lost on him, but he had things to do, lives to save, and it was the only way.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Break Out (July)

You make me dizzy Running circles in my head

One of these days I'll chase you down.

Well look who's going crazy now

We're face to face my friend

Better get out

Better get out

You know you make me breakout

Foo Fighters- "Break Out"

            Shawn waited until it was dark. They had very few people roaming the halls at night. Why would they though? Most of the people here were bed ridden catatonics. There were only one or two people who made hourly rounds, like clockwork. So as long as he didn't dance around the halls (like he could anyway) Shawn figured he could at least make it to the door.

            Wincing slightly he put his feet down and his slippers on before taking a few tentative steps. Despite his "accident" on the parallel bars, he'd done his best to get back on his feet. Actually participating helped a lot.

            Go figure.

            He was able to stand on his own now, and take some wobbly steps. Aiden was ecstatic about his progress, as was the rest of his friends and family, but he'd have to do better than just walking tonight. He had a mission. Trevor Jones needed to be stopped and he'd be damned if something as annoying as 'not being able to walk' would hinder him.

            He managed to get to the door and looked up and down the hallway. He was suddenly glad that they let people wear their own clothes here. Running around in an open backed hospital gown was not his idea of a good time, plus the conspicuousness of it would give him away in a second. Using the wall as support, he made his way down the hall, past the thankfully empty nurse's desk. She'd left five minutes before and would be back in fifteen.

            The squeaking wheels of a cart came from down the corridor and Shawn lurched into a doorway to stop from being seen. He prayed that they'd keep going, and not come down the hall he was hiding in. Flattened against a wall or not, they'd see him if they walked right past him.

            Please keep going!

            He breathed a sigh of relief when the squeaks became more distant as they headed down the opposite way. Continuing slowly down the hall, Shawn finally made it to the front doors with only a few minutes to spare before the nurse came back. There were cameras but he hoped they weren't watching them too closely, or this escape would probably be the most pathetic attempt in the history of the hospital, short of the paraplegic last week who used his wheelchair to try to climb stairs to freedom.

            The glass doors popped open easily, but he knew they would. His mandated reading as a kid included fire code laws as well as the penal ones. You can't lock viable fire exits. Shawn wanted to laugh in triumph, but he settled for a quieter amused snort. No use giving himself away inches from a successful get away.

            Once outside, with the doors latched shut behind him, Shawn took a deep breath through his nose, relishing the night air. He took a few shaky steps down the stairs in front. He made sure to use the rails as much as he could, his legs were already getting tired, but he needed to do this. Trevor Jones had to be stopped, and he was the only one that could stop him.

            Shawn looked around in awe; he had never realized how large the Cottage Hospital complex was. The front door lead straight out to De La Vina Street, which was where they'd look first as soon as they noticed he was missing, so he decided to go east and traveled down one of the side streets to avoid detection.

            As he ambled along, holding himself up on anything he could get a firm grip on, Shawn tried to think through all the places he could look to find evidence.

            The case was extremely cold, but there was always a chance and he doubted Trevor Jones just suddenly cleaned up his act in the last few years. He remembered something he'd overheard Trevor Jones’ boast at the candidate party he'd attended with Juliet. Gus had just gotten done telling him about the stuffed mushrooms and he was walking to accost Swaggerty about his involvement in the prior mayor’s death.

            "I've recently acquired some property next to the Santa Barbara Country club. Of course I'm already a member..."

            The country club was only a couple of miles away. He'd find a phone book and see if Trevor had the property listed under his name. It was a start and he didn't have much time.

I can do this... Shawn grit his teeth and fought to get his uncooperative limbs moving. The thought of going two more blocks, let alone two miles, was almost too much. One foot in front of the other man. Just keep going.

            "Hey!" Shawn heard a shout behind him and turned to look. An officer in a tan uniform was approaching him from a squad car parked a half block away from him.

            Tan... Sheriff. Shawn remembered. He wasn't breaking any laws, and it was too soon for anyone to know he was missing, so he kept going. He can’t be talking to me...

            "Sir," The Sheriff Officer walked up closer to Shawn warily. "I'm going to need some ID."

            ID? Shawn paused and felt his pockets, even though he knew they were empty. He'd never needed identification at the center, so they'd never given his wallet back. For all he knew it was in a box in his father's attic. "No."

            The impassive look was gone from the officer’s features, replaced by a deep scowl. "Sir! You need to show me some ID."

            I don't need to show you jack. He didn't have to try hard to remember that cops need to suspect you of a crime before they demand an ID. He hadn't done anything. He really needed to get this guy off is back if he was going to get anything done.

"Go w−way!" He wanted to smack himself in the face for that one, Yeah, that'll show him...

            "Do not shout at me sir! Go stand over there and stay put!" The officer pointed next to a car on the curb and grabbed his radio from his belt. "This is Officer Bowden. I have a 647F on West Alamar Street. I'm taking him in."

            647F...I know that don't I? Shawn gripped a fist and put it to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly, Think! Think! He hit his fist against his head, trying to force the memory to come. His eyes shot open once it did, and he opened his mouth in shock. The idiot thought he was drunk.

            "No dr−dr…” Shawn protested as loudly as he could once the officer's attention was off the radio and back on him.

            Rolling his eyes, the officer grabbed him by the arm. Forcing him to move faster than his legs were capable of. "Sure buddy. You can convince them down at the station. Let's go." The officer tried to lead him towards the waiting cruiser but Shawn's legs were about to give.

            Damn it I don't have time for this! "No! M−move." Shawn shoved the officer back and stumbled forward. He caught himself on a light post near the curb. His arm shook with the effort of keeping himself upright, but it was better than the alternative of falling on his ass into the street.

            "Get on the ground!" The officer shouted once he’d regained his own balance. The man was obviously done playing games.

            Shawn ignored the order and pushed away from the light, but he wasn't all that fast. He glanced back and saw the officer pull a Taser and point it in his direction menacingly.

            Oh shit!

            "Last chance man! Down on the ground!"

            Turning around and stumbling faster, Shawn didn't get more than a few feet before he felt the barbs of the Taser dig painfully into his back. It was excruciating and all the fight he had, what little there was, instantly left and he slumped to the ground, hard.

            He lay there breathing in choked gasps while the officer radioed in that he had to pacify the "suspect."

            Ow ow ow ow ow! Once Shawn's head stopped spinning, he opened his eyes and realized things had started to glow, brighter and brighter. The Taser must have triggered something. He was about to have a seizure right out in the open and there wasn't time to say or do anything to get help. As the searing pain shot through his head signaling the start of it, his last coherent thought was that he might have made a mistake leaving the center.

------------------------------

            "Son of a BITCH!" Carlton shouted and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. Even with his brain scrambled eggs, Shawn was still a pain in his ass.

            Henry had called him in a panic saying that somehow during the night, Shawn had flown the coop. The guy could barely walk and he somehow got out of a secure hospital. Only Spencer could be that brash. He promised he'd look for him and kept an ear out for anything suspicious. Brash or not, Shawn could only make it so far without help.

            It had been at least five hours since they figured he escaped, and no one had heard anything. Not a word. As Carlton thought about it, dread seeped into his thoughts. What if someone found him and figured he was an easy target? Lord knew the crime in this city was at epidemic levels.

            Carlton decided that looking at police reports from around the time Shawn escaped would be the best bet, so he headed for the station and his computer.

            He barely made it in the door when he was accosted by Buzz McNab, whose large frame practically blocked the way so Carlton had to talk to him. The tall officer's eyes were wide and panicky. "I heard about Shawn. I could get in a squad and go look for him. Would that be okay?"

Carlton was about to bark at him to move and tell him Juliet was already out looking with Henry, Gus, and Maddie, but realized Buzz wasn't trying to be annoying, he was just concerned for his friend. "Fine, go get a black and white. Let me know the second you find anything out McNab."

            After Buzz jogged off, Carlton headed to his desk. He paged through all the reports for the precinct but besides a few domestics and an assault, it had been a quiet night.

            "Shit." Carlton slumped into the chair and drummed his fingers, before suddenly remembering Buzz's reaction. Pretty much everyone in this station knew exactly who Shawn was, and what had happened to him. If they didn’t, they had been living under a rock for the past seven months. If any of the police had picked him up, he would have already been brought back to the hospital.

However, Shawn had never worked with the other law enforcement center in town; the Sheriff's office.

            Unfortunately, they didn't share a database with the SBPD, and it would be hard to explain the situation over the phone, so he decided to just grab his coat and take the ten minutes to drive over. He caught the eye of the Chief as he was leaving and she gave him a nod. Obviously she’d heard about what had happened as well, and had just given him the official go ahead to search. Carlton nodded back and headed out the door.

            The Sheriff's station was located on a larger plot of land next to the County Jail and the search and rescue center. There were only a few cars in the parking lot when Carlton pulled up and headed in the entrance. Good, less people to run into. Most of the Sheriff officers tended to get "owly" when the Head Detective of the police department walked in their door.

            The receptionist was typing away while talking on the phone and chewing gum. It sounded like a personal conversation to him, so Carlton didn't mind interrupting it. He walked up and tapped the desk to get her attention. She gave him an annoyed look before continuing to talk on the phone.

            He cleared his throat and gave her a look, one that basically said, 'Get off the phone or your life will become very complicated, very quickly.'

            She ended the call and with a sneer she asked, "Can I help you?"

            He flashed his badge, "Carlton Lassiter. Head Detective for the Santa Barbara Police Department. I'm looking for any information you may have about a ‘Shawn Spencer’ or if you’ve had anyone report picking up an injured man in the last six hours. He figured he'd give the time frame some wiggle room just in case they were wrong about when Shawn had escaped.

            Sighing in exasperation, she turned to the computer and started looking.

            While he waited, a Sheriff's officer approached him and extended his hand. "Lassiter. Good to see you." It was someone he knew from the academy, but who had decided to join the Sheriff's office instead of the regular police force. He couldn't for the life of him remember his first name.

            "Officer Grayson." He greeted. The man wasn't too bad of an officer and had been very forthcoming with information in the past. Best to keep it friendly with him.

            "What brings the Head Detective down to our little shop?" he asked, leaning on the counter.

            "I'm looking for a police consultant that went missing from the hospital last night. I think he may have run into trouble since we haven't found him yet."

            Officer Grayson looked at the secretary who was just finishing her search. "Sally, you find anything?"

            She shook her head. "No, it was a quiet night last night. Just brought in a few traffic violations and a drunk and disorderly."

            Carlton's hopes crashed down. "Damn it."

            The officer cocked his head and asked her, "That last one is the guy who got Tasered?"

            "Yeah. Still hasn't woken up fully." Sally popped her gum.

            Chuckling, Officer Grayson stated, "Man, he must have had one hell of a night if he isn't sobering up yet."

            A cold feeling crept up Carlton's spine. "Wait... what was the man's name?"

            Sally looked back to the filing cabinet and dug out a new looking folder. "Doesn't say. He hasn't been coherent enough since confronted on the street. The officer involved said he just dropped when the Taser hit him. Had a bad reaction or something."

            "Give me the report!" Carlton demanded frantically, leaning over the counter.

            "Hey!" Sally protested and Officer Grayson's eyes widened.

            Carlton ignored them and scanned the report quickly.

            Notes from Officer Michael Bowden:

            Male, 140lbs, short brown hair, was seen walking unsteadily down West Alamar Street at 2am. He refused to show ID and refused to stop. Speech was slurred. Officer attempted to lead him to the vehicle but was pushed by suspect. Officer then ordered suspect to the ground and suspect attempted to flee. Taser was employed and the suspect dropped to the sidewalk.

            "Oh my God." Carlton felt like he couldn't breathe. They couldn't be that stupid. It can't be Spencer. He continued reading.

            The suspect continued to shake and was slow to recover after Taser was no longer in use. Suspect did not regain consciousness but had a steady heartbeat and breathing. Officer concluded the suspect had passed out due to intoxication and was carried by officer to the patrol and brought to Santa Barbara Sheriff's Office for processing.

            The Taser could have triggered a seizure. A small voice wheedled into Carlton’s thoughts, but he still hoped it wasn't Shawn. The next page was what convinced him he was wrong.

            Identifying Marks: Recent tracheotomy wound on neck. Scar on upper lip and chest area. Appendectomy scar.

            He angrily looked up at the shocked faces of Grayson and Sally. "Show me where this man is. Right NOW!"

            "He's in the drunk tanks sleeping it off. What's wrong?" Officer Grayson asked, raising his hands, indicating that the Head Detective slow down.

            Carlton took a deep breath, "A few months ago one of our consultants had an accident. He suffered brain damage and he just happened to escape from Cottage Rehab last night."

            Officer Grayson gave him a disbelieving look, obviously not wanting to believe another officer had mistaken a hospital patient for a drunk. "Wait. You don't think−"

            "Yeah, I do." Carlton grit his teeth at the sheer idiocy. "He has trouble walking, and isn't able to talk well due to his injury."

            "Crap. I'll take you down." The officer grabbed his keys and led the way down the stairs to the drunk tanks.

            There were five empty cells. Carlton noticed with smug satisfaction that they were a lot smaller than the ones at the SBPD. Officer Grayson stopped at the last cell and looked through the bars. “He the guy you’re lookin’ for?”

Sure enough, much to Carlton’s dismay, curled up on the cot was Shawn.

            He looked pale and was shivering even though he was still unconscious. Carlton turned, already red in the face, and ordered, "It's him. Open the cell and call 911!"

            Shawn hadn't had any of his medicine, and the Taser probably hadn't done him any favors in the health department. Someone with a neurological disorder getting hit with a weapon designed to shut off neurological pathways was a recipe for disaster.

            Officer Grayson momentarily fumbled with the keys, and opened the cell door, before hurrying down the hallway to find a phone. Carlton walked slowly up to Shawn and put his hand on his shoulder. "Spencer! Spencer can you hear me?"

            Shawn seemed to rouse a bit, but his shivering didn't subside. His eyes opened a fraction. "Las?"

            If the shivering was any indication, Shawn had to be going into shock, or had been in shock for a while. He looked around to make sure no one was looking before putting a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "It's okay Spencer. I got ya. We'll get you back to the hospital."

            "I tr−tr..." Shawn was trying to tell him something important, but they were interrupted by a voice from behind him.

            "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in here?"

            Carlton turned to find a young officer glaring at him. His eyes habitually fell to the man's badge. "Bowden." He said aloud. It was the cop who made the report about Shawn. "You brought this man in?" Carlton didn't even try to hide the malice in his tone.

            "Yeah, tried to assault me. Drunk as I've ever seen anyone." The officer smirked, as if it was a funny joke.

            Carlton took a step toward the man, "And when he didn't wake up after you Tased him, you didn't think to call the hospital, or even get him checked out?!"

            The officer put his hands up, "He was passed out man! Out cold. I figured he would just sleep it off, right?"

            "He wasn't DRUNK you goddamn idiot! He has a traumatic brain injury! Did you even breathalyze him? Huh? Did you give him any test at all, or did you just assume?" Carlton tried to push away the little voice in his head that told him before Shawn's accident, he probably would have made the same assumption.

            He angrily poked the officer in the chest and backed him to the wall, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. This poor excuse for an officer didn't even follow basic protocol and had endangered the life of someone who had probably saved and helped more people than anyone else in this station. Other officers started showing up around him, drawn in by the commotion. If they hadn't been there, Carlton probably would have beat the crap out of the man, but he would have a worse fate in the end. He'd make sure of it.

            "Get the hell out of here you useless twit! You'll be lucky to be in one piece, let alone have your badge, once his father gets done with you."

            Officer Bowden stumbled back and hurried up the stairs past a confused Officer Grayson. "What was that?" he asked.

            "Are they coming?" Carlton snapped, too angry to answer any questions at the moment. He just wanted to get Shawn out of here and checked out.

            "Yeah, yeah they are...is he going to be okay?"

            "I hope so." Carlton looked at Shawn, still wondering what possessed him to run out of the rehab center in the first place. "His father's going to come in swinging. You really might want to keep that idiot away from him." And me. The detective vowed that next time he saw Michael Bowden, he wouldn't be so polite.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9- Torn to Pieces (July-August)

I’m torn to pieces, I’m broken down
I still see your face when you’re not around
I sit here in misery wondering if I’ll ever be
Half the man you wanted me to be

Pop Evil- "Torn to Pieces"

            Henry stormed into the Sheriff's station with one goal in mind; kick the ever loving crap out of the officer who had assaulted his son. Shawn had been brought out on a stretcher only a few minutes before and Henry had stayed just long enough to make sure he was going to be alright before he attended to some business.

            Unfortunately, Carlton had anticipated his rage and blocked his way to the room where the cowed officer was sitting, currently being talked to by his superiors. "Henry, don't."

            It had been Carlton himself that told him the news of where his son was and what had happened. He couldn't believe it at first. Tasers were usually used as a last "non lethal" line of defense because of the harm they caused the human body. In Shawn's case, it had triggered a grand mal seizure and caused two wounds on his back that were barely bandaged by the Sheriff's office wounds that now had a danger of becoming infected.

            Someone was going to pay.

            "Out of the way Lassiter!" He tried to push past but the detective wouldn't move. Puffing out his chest, he pointed at the room full of officers. "You tell them to get out here and explain how the hell my son got thrown in jail and tasered just for walking funny or I'm going in there myself!" The commotion caught everyone's attention, including the people in the room. Henry saw the young officer look his way. "Yeah! That's right pal! You are going to be sued off your ass for this one, you incompetent little−"

            "Henry, stop! It's being dealt with. Chief Vick is talking to the Sheriff now and they're going through everything." Henry now saw Karen's blond hair in the mix, but Carlton still wouldn't move out of the way. "I'll stay here and let you know what happens. Go get O'Hara and let her know Spencer was found."

            He hissed a breath out through his clenched teeth. Of course Carlton would play the sympathy card. He knew Henry wouldn't want to leave Juliet in the dark, especially with how worried she'd been. "Alright, but this isn't over. Those people aren't going to get away with this!"

            With that, Henry walked away, his anger the only thing keeping him from breaking down in relief. When he was on the force, he'd never shot first and asked questions later, even with a 'non lethal' alternative. If they were hiring these kind of trigger happy kids, he feared for the safety of the general public.

---------------------------------------

            Henry paced back and forth next to Shawn's bed as Maddie, Juliet, and Gus watched Shawn's still form. He'd been unconscious since he'd been brought back from the Sheriff's Office and the doctors were currently examining him for any new injuries. Maddie could barely take the strain on her nerves. Shawn had been doing so well and who knows what this could have done to him, and all because of a deputy who judged her son too quickly.

            After finding out what had happened, she'd personally called the Sheriff and demanded that Officer Bowden be put on suspension. The Sheriff said that despite Maddie's standing with the police department, she didn't have the clout to request a suspension of one of his officers. However, one visit from a furious Karen Vick was all it took for the officer to be put on two weeks leave pending a full investigation.

            They could tell from Carlton's report as well as the arresting officer's own official report of the incident that the officer was at fault and had accosted Shawn without any reasonable suspicion other than he was, "Walking unsteadily down the street..."

            Now, much to her ex-husband's chagrin, they'd had to call Dr. Keizer back in to assess the damage the Taser may have caused to Shawn's already compromised nervous system. Since he was already familiar with Shawn's case, he had been the most logical choice.

            "His vitals seem normal, but we should keep an eye on him for a couple of days to make sure there are no complications. He just needs to rest for now," Dr. Keizer stated, patting Shawn's arm lightly.

            Maddie smiled at the doctor. She'd always liked him because she knew his impassive attitude was just a way of keeping his professional distance. She understood that more than Henry did, because she often had to do the same thing herself. The horror stories she would hear from traumatized police officers were often enough to bring her to tears if she hadn't had the training necessary to stay professional and impartial.

            Henry glared at Dr. Keizer as he exited before looking back to his son. "For God's sake kid! Why the hell did you leave the hospital?"

            She leaned over Shawn and placed a hand on his brow. "Oh Goose. We thought you liked it here."

            Gus nervously eyed Henry for any more outbursts before he tentatively added, "Maybe something happened that made him feel unsafe? Like the girl in the hallway on his first day here. You think?"

            "No." Henry said firmly. "Shawn would have said−" He paused and corrected himself, "Would have tried to say something. Believe me, if Shawn wanted to tell you something bad enough, you'd know."

            That statement caused a chuckle from both Maddie and Gus, who knew that was true enough. Shawn did always have a way of getting his point across. She looked over at Juliet, who wasn’t laughing, and frowned in concern. "Juliet, dear, what's wrong?"

            Not taking her eyes off Shawn, Juliet said, "A few weeks ago, Shawn had an accident in physical therapy and I came to see him..." She hesitated before continuing. "No, he asked to see me." Maddie didn't see anything strange about that, but Juliet continued. "He actually looked really excited, and he kept trying to say something."

            Gus' eyes widened in realization. "You think he was trying to tell you something important."

            "Right. He got really upset when he couldn't get it out. I'd never seen him like that. He threw things and the nurse had to come in for him to calm down." Juliet looked at the others. "You guys really didn't see anything different about him before he ran?"

            There were a couple head shakes in the room, but Gus wasn't one of them. He just hung his head lower, obviously ashamed. "I did. It was around the time I was trying to get my full pharmacist certification. I was stressing over it big time. He was being really annoying, poking at my book, not letting me study."

            Maddie turned to Henry with a hopeful expression. "Henry, didn't you say Shawn was trying to be more vocal the past couple weeks?"

            Henry sagged forward in his chair as all eyes focused on him. "I dunno Madds. Maybe we're wrong. Maybe we really are trying to see something that isn't there with Shawn."

            "Henry..." Maddie protested. She'd worked with Shawn and Henry had been one of the most adamant supporters that Shawn would get better. Seeing him give up like this was very out of character.

            "Think about it. Our son has brain damage and we're trying to use logic to figure out his behavior. What if there is no logic in it? What if Shawn is really just acting out randomly whenever his brain misfires?" Henry's face fell in defeat, realizing he'd finally voiced the opinion that had been eating at his mind for since the accident.

            The rest of them, Gus, Juliet and herself, couldn’t say much to disprove that. Maddie knew that no one wanted to believe it, but they were all thinking it, and Henry had been the first one to say it. After months of hoping, Shawn's recovery had hit a plateau and she reasoned that he really wasn't going to get any better than this. As a mom though, she wanted to see her son recover. Wanted him to beat the odds and be one of the miracles of nature that happened every once in a blue moon. Now, it looked like it really wasn't going to happen.

            Maddie stood up and touched Shawn's hair one more time. "You all look really tired, how about I watch Shawn so you all can get some rest? He won't be waking up for a while anyway."

            The others in the room stood as well, knowing she was right, and with the smile she got from Juliet, realized she wanted some time with her son. Juliet walked over and gave her a hug. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

            She turned to go but Maddie stopped her from leaving, "You are a good woman, and I can tell that Shawn loves you very much."

            Her eyes began to mist up and she nodded. "I know Mrs. Spencer. I just hope he knows how much I love him."

            "I am sure he does dear."

            Gus walked up to them and gave Maddie a nod before taking Juliet's arm. "C'mon, I'll drive you back to the station to get your car."

            Once the two younger people left, it was just her and Henry in the room with their son.

            Henry approached her, looking sad and apologetic. "Listen, Madds. I'm sorry I said that. I was just upset and−"

            Maddie put a hand on his cheek, silencing his apology. "Henry, you're under a lot of stress. It's okay, I understand."

            He surprised her by leaning into her touch. After their encounter during his recovery when he had been shot, Henry had been incredibly shy towards any more physical contact between the two of them. She had a sense that Shawn was responsible for some of that, but it gave her some hope that he was accepting her comfort.

            "I know that. I just don't know how to help him."

            She nodded, understanding. "We'll know more when he wakes up. Go get some rest and I'll keep you updated, alright?"

            “Alright.”

            She watched as Henry walked out of the room before going to sit on the edge of Shawn’s bed. “Goose, I’m sorry all this had to happen. I wish I could have helped you more but−” Maddie stopped herself from continuing.

I can’t blame myself.

She didn’t trust herself not to cry if she continued talking, so she sat and waited for him to wake up, stroking his hair like she did when he was a child. Maybe she couldn't blame herself for him ending up this way, but she sure could feel guilty as hell for not seeing her son was in distress sooner.

With a deep sigh, she made herself more comfortable on the bed and waited.

-----------------------------------

The headache was the first thing that Shawn noticed when he started to come around. It throbbed steadily with every one of his heartbeats, making him wince and groan loudly. It was almost like waking up after one of his seizures. He felt groggy and disoriented for a few minutes before his brain kick-started and things slowly started coming back to him. He was in the hospital again, that was for sure. He could tell by the smell.

His room was also bursting with people now competing for his attention, asking if he was okay.

"He's waking up!"

"Shawn! Can you hear me?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Goose we were so worried about you!"

What happened? Did I get him? His mind hadn't quite caught up with the present, and he wondered if he'd gotten the proof he needed. "Wh−wh−" Shawn realized it wasn't just grogginess after a minute. His brain felt like it was filled with cotton. He shook his head and took a deep breath trying to clear it. A glance at the IV connected to him explained things. Drugs.

"Shawn. Hey." Someone broke from the pack and gripped his hand. Shawn looked to see Juliet's sad face. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Then, suddenly his dad was towering over him like a pit bull, ready to bite his head off. The last time he'd seen his father so mad was when he was ten and had snuck out of the house with his uncle Jack to see a midnight movie. "Just what do you think you were doing Shawn?"

Surprisingly, his mother elbowed Henry hard, and glared venomously. "You promised."

Shawn winced and turned away as his memories trickled back as the clouds in his mind cleared. All that time, all that planning and work, and he'd gotten nothing. Absolutely nothing on Trevor Jones. Hell, he hadn't even made it more than half a mile before being caught. I'm never getting out of here am I?

Gus came forward, blocking his view of his fighting parents. "Shawn, why did you leave? Were you trying to tell us something? You don't like it here?"

He had to give Gus props for trying, but he was way off the mark.

The problem was, all he had to do was say one sentence. 'Trevor Jones is a murderer.' He couldn't say his own name let alone someone else's, so it was no use. He felt silent and useless. One of the only things that Shawn had always wanted in his life was to be useful, and he couldn't do that anymore. He was a cripple, stuck in a hospital playing with puzzles and having people misinterpret everything he did.

It was a living nightmare, one that Shawn now knew he'd never get out of. He felt tears fall from his eyes and stared at the ceiling, this time welcoming the enveloping darkness that would take him away from the world, for a short time at least.

-------------------------------------

One week later, and Shawn's friends and family were more worried than they had ever been about his mental health. He'd all but stopped trying to communicate, stopped participating in therapy, and stopped trying to do things for himself. The doctor had said it was regression, and happened sometimes after traumatic accidents, but Gus knew Shawn better than the doctors. He'd simply shut down.

When things became too hard, when he became too upset at the world, Shawn tended to go emotionally numb. It was no different than what was going on now. The question that Gus kept asking himself was why? It was a question that everyone was asking, but the only person that could tell them was Shawn. So, they were stuck.

Juliet came and visited him more often, and he'd heard Carlton comment that it was now starting to affect her work. They'd kept that piece of information from Shawn, though. If he understood that Juliet was sacrificing her career to take care of him, it could destroy him even more.

As it was, Gus was having a hard time keeping his visits up while attending classes for a pharmacy degree. It was going to be a couple years before he had it, but after a lot of thought, he reluctantly realized that he wasn't going to go back to Psych any time soon. He missed it terribly though.

"Shawn," Gus addressed his friend as he sat in the room watching TV. "What do you want to watch? American Duo's reruns are on."

Nothing. Not even a blink.

"Is he doing okay?"

After the silence of sitting with Shawn, the voice made him jump and squeal before he realized it was Juliet. "Oh my God, you're like a ninja."

"I'm wearing my silent shoes today," she joked back. Her eyes settled on Shawn. "How is he doing?" she whispered.

"The same," Gus said back quietly and felt horrible when her face fell. "You know, I've got to get going. I have class in the morning."

Juliet's smile told him that she'd gotten the hint that he was giving them some alone time. "Thanks Gus. Want to have coffee tomorrow morning?"

"Sure. I'd like that, I'll pick Shawn up a smoothie while I'm at it." Gus lightly nudged Shawn, and his heart sank when his arm moved away from the contact. "Well, uh... I'd better go."

"See you tomorrow Gus."

Gus waited till he was around the corner to slump over and walk slowly down the hallway, defeated and clueless as to what to do to help Shawn. When he passed the commons area, a young man approached him. He was surprised because he'd never had the chance to talk to anyone else there.

"Is Shawn going to be okay?" The young man asked. Gus looked behind him and saw that half the room was looking at him, waiting for an answer.

Wow, he does make a lot of friends. It lifted his spirits somewhat and he replied, "I hope so. He's really upset."

"Next time you see him, tell him I've been carrying around my beads, just in case."

It was probably the weirdest thing that anyone had ever said to him, but Gus played along. "Okay. I'll tell him."

The kid smiled and walked back to the table.

Shaking his head, Gus continued to the door. He hoped something would happen to get Shawn out of his funk, before he truly lost his best bud forever.

---------------------------------------

Shawn had been planning on dozing for the rest of the night, despite Juliet's presence. He just couldn't bring himself to care anymore. That was, until a commercial for "Elect Trevor Jones" came on.

"Mayor Swaggerty has voted for funding cuts for our police departments. In our small city, we have more murders per capita than any city in the United States.

If elected, Trevor Jones vows to clean up the streets, fund the police department, and support it's employees.

For a better, safer Santa Barbara, elect Trevor Jones."

That's when he lost it. The pent up rage, the frustration, everything came spewing out the only way he could. He started throwing his dinner at the TV.

"So−m bi−" His Salisbury steak actually stuck to the TV, leaving a short slimy trail of sauce down the front of that grinning murderer's face.

"Shawn! NO!" Juliet grabbed his hand and halted the tossing of his corn and spoon. He turned his head away and grunted in frustration. "What's the matter with you! Look at me Shawn!"

"No."

"I love you." Juliet was almost sobbing, and it broke his heart into tiny bits of glass that seemed to dig into his chest. "God, do you understand anything I'm even saying? Do you still love me Shawn? Do you?"

            Closing his eyes, he gripped the sheet and forced himself to breathe evenly. Please just go away. His muscles started to shake from how tightly he was holding his fists closed. I can't do this right now. I can't do anything. Just leave me alone.

            "Shawn please!" Juliet begged grabbing his hand again. "Would you just look at me?"

            Shawn still refused to even glance in her direction. It would make what he had to do harder if he had to see the hurt in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to be selfish and keep Juliet with him, but she deserved more. More than a useless boyfriend who could barely feed himself. More than having to spend every afternoon cooped up in a hospital room. She deserved more than him.

            He ripped his hand away from hers. "Go."

            "Shawn?" He looked at her, knowing he shouldn't. She had backed up a few steps from the bed. Her blue eyes had tears in them. "You don't mean that...do you?"

            Shawn couldn't say anymore. He tried to keep his breathing steady, as he picked up the last of his dinner still in his reach, a pudding. Just do it you coward! She'll find someone better, and have little Jules babies, and be happy, finally happy. "Get−out!" He shouted hoarsely, and let the pudding fly.

            Even though she was surprised, she dodged the projectile with ease and stared at him in disbelief, and betrayal before running out of the room crying.

            She was barely gone a few seconds before Shawn broke down, glad that no one else was there to see it. He could barely breathe and his hands hurt. Everything had gone so wrong, and all he'd ever tried to do was good. Was this a punishment for years of lying, despite the intentions behind it? Was he being cosmically reprimanded?

            As if to answer him, when he opened his eyes again, the objects in the room held a halo like glow, signaling an oncoming "epileptic episode" as the doctors liked to call it. They never called it for what it was: his brain was fried. He'd never be able to drive, or take care of himself again. His life from now on was to be just a burden on everyone around him.

            He'd barely had a chance to quickly press the nurse button and lay down before he blacked out, with one last depressed thought.

            Why didn't I just die..?

-------------------------------

            Henry let his head rest on the back of his couch, completely at a loss on what to do with his son. The doctors said that for some reason Shawn was on a downward spiral, and they couldn't explain why.

            At first everyone thought it was because of the his injuries from his escape and those incompetent officers. But now, there was nothing physically wrong with him and he was getting worse. He refused to do physical therapy at all, didn't even look at anyone who came to visit him and a distraught Juliet had called him the day before saying that Shawn had actually thrown something at her.

            There has to be a reason, some reason... Shawn would never hurt Juliet, or any woman for that matter. Maybe Shawn really is gone.

            The phone ringing woke Henry suddenly. He hadn't even realized he'd been falling asleep. Wiping his face he grabbed at his phone and grumbled a tired, "Hello?"

            "Hello, Mr. Spencer?" A male voice asked.

            "Yes I'm Henry." He sat up straighter, hoping it wasn't the clinic saying there was something wrong with Shawn.

            "It's great to finally be able to speak to you, Mr. Spencer. My name is Trevor Jones, and I'd like to ask permission to talk to your son."

Chapter Text

Chapter 10- Fake It (August)

Fake it, if you’re out of direction Fake it, if you don't belong, yeah Fake it, if you feel like infection Whoa, you're such a hypocrite

Seether- "Fake It"

            "Gus, I'm not letting some political hack use my son for his image!"

            Gus almost had to hold the phone away from his ear, from the shouting. He had been sitting at home, relaxing in his PJs and watching TV when a very pissed off Henry called. He hadn't seen Shawn's dad this mad since Shawn had borrowed his $300 fishing pole to get a Frisbee off the Psych roof. To be fair, it was Shawn's fault. He should have caught it.

            "Gus! Are you there?"

            "I'm here," he said quickly, "But why are you calling me about this? Didn't you just say no?"

            Henry's voice got softer and he sighed, "Well, I called Juliet after I hung up on the guy and she said that Shawn hated Swaggerty and wouldn't want to see him re-elected. I can't argue with that."

            Rolling his eyes, Gus asked, "Then why are you arguing it with me?"

            "Because..." There was a pause, "I don't really have anyone else to talk to."

            Gus froze. He hadn't really thought about Henry needing to talk to someone. He had Juliet to talk to himself, but Henry Spencer would never do that. Gus knew he would think that Shawn's girlfriend had enough on her plate. Plus, he would never shout at her.

            Him on the other hand...

            "Can you hear me!? Damn this phone... Hello!?"

            "Sorry! I'm here. It's just, I know. I know you wouldn't want Shawn to be used, but Juliet is right, Swaggerty needs to go down."

            The 'interim' mayor had been meddling in police business a lot lately. Despite his popularity with the public, his standing with the SPBD had gone down the tube when he'd started to butt heads with Chief Vick over policies he wanted enacted. Policies that included running all consultant hiring by him before they were approved. Shawn's accident stopped that from being their problem anymore, but they weren't the only consultants the station had.

            "Who knows," Gus continued, trying to put a positive spin on things. "It may just cheer Shawn up. Get him out of his funk."

            There was a huff from the other end of the line and Gus knew he'd gotten through to the stubborn older man. "I hope you're right Gus." The hopelessness in Henry's voice tore at Gus' emotions, and he had to rein them in or start crying on the phone.

            "When is Mr. Jones going to see Shawn?"

            "Around two next Monday. I'm going to be there, Gus. I told him I didn't want my son to be made into some charity case by the media circus he's bringing with him, and I intend to make sure he doesn't."

            Gus smiled. "You know that's right."

            "Take it easy."

            "You too."

            After hanging up with Henry, Gus didn't feel much like watching TV anymore. He'd been doing that way too often lately. Looking at the clock, he saw it was only 6pm, not nearly late enough for bed.

            Maybe I'll go grab something to eat. He started getting dressed and grabbed his wallet from the night stand. A small piece of paper sitting underneath it fluttered to the floor. It was Alice's number. With everything going on the last few months, he hadn't called her yet.

            Smiling wryly, he picked up his phone and dialed the number.

---------------------------------------

            The day Trevor Jones was arriving, everyone was on pins and needles. Juliet had shown up early, excited for any kind of change in Shawn. Ever since Henry had made the suggestion that something out of the ordinary may get Shawn out of whatever he was going through, she'd been dying to see if he was right. Of course, Henry was there with Maddie and Gus, but Carlton had shown up too, much to everyone's surprise.

            There had been a flicker of something in Shawn when everyone arrived all at once. His eyes lit up before narrowing suspiciously, as if he knew something was up. Unfortunately, after only a minute of looking at them, her boyfriend went back to staring at the TV, even though it was off. Maddie had tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't even acknowledge her.

            Juliet bit her lip. Something had to be done. Before, even though he had his injuries, she could still see the man she loved in there, and had been happy with that fact. Now, it was like he was a hollow shell, defeated and broken.

            "Shawn, you have a visitor!" the nurse chimed as she entered the room. Juliet listened and sure enough, she could hear the multiple footfalls of the City Administrator and his entourage of cameras coming down the hallway.

            When they finally entered, Shawn looked back and forth at the group of people in his room, as if wondering what was happening. He sat up straighter in bed and turned his head toward her. She smiled widely and grabbed his hand. "It's okay Shawn." She almost cried in relief when he didn't pull it away this time.

            The moment Shawn's eyes fell on Trevor Jones, Juliet could tell there was something wrong. Very wrong.

            At first, his brows furrowed as if he couldn't place him. She knew he'd met Trevor at the party last year, but with his injury it didn't mean he'd really remember him, so she decided to introduce the politician. "Shawn, this is Trevor Jones. He's the City Administrator. You remember him right?" As soon as she said his name, her boyfriend's puzzlement changed to the most visible emotion Shawn had expressed since before the accident.

            Pure, unadulterated, hatred.

            His breathing sped up and he kept his eyes locked on the man as if he were the most dangerous thing in the room. She could tell that Henry noticed it too. "Kid?"

            Trevor Jones, however, was completely oblivious that something was amiss. He continued forward, addressing Shawn while the camera operator got ready. "Shawn, good to see you again."

            Shawn didn't reach his hand out. Instead he moved further back into his bed and shook his head.

            "Shawn, honey what's wrong?" Madeline asked while Juliet tried squeezing his hand in comfort.

            Worry flashed through Trevor's features as he finally figured out something was wrong. "Is he alright? I can come back later..."

            Gus tried to calm the situation down. "He's probably just tired." Henry nodded but Juliet could tell he was wary of the situation.

            "Okay, we got it. Any time, Mr. Jones." The camera operator gave him a thumbs up, indicating everything was ready.

            With the cameras rolling, Trevor couldn't back down anymore. He gave the camera a large practiced smile and orientated himself towards Shawn. "I'm here with former mayoral candidate and psychic detective Shawn Spencer, who's recently been in a terrible accident. Even though he’s still recovering, and may not be able to return to work for the Police Department, it doesn't make him any less of a hero in the eyes of the citizens of Santa Barbara."

            Juliet's nose wrinkled and she wondered if he knew how insulting he'd just been.

            Trevor turned towards Shawn. "Mr. Spencer, you've done this town a lot of good over the years and the city is very appreciative of your efforts. I just wanted to come here and thank you personally for your services and wish you a quick recovery." Trevor extended his hand toward Shawn once more, for the cameras.

            Juliet let go and stepped back so Shawn could shake Trevor's hand, but instead Shawn reached over and grabbed a pencil from the counter next to the bed. Briefly, Juliet wondered why Shawn was grabbing a pencil when he couldn't write.

            Carlton and Henry must have sensed what was coming before she and Trevor did. They both rushed forward as Shawn gripped the pencil tighter and swung it down at Trevor's outstretched limb. They were too late and the pencil pierced straight through Trevor’s hand.

            Trevor wailed in pain and pulled away from Shawn, ripping the pencil out of both his hand and Shawn’s grip in the process. Despite being weaponless, Shawn continued to try and strike out at Trevor, even with Carlton and Henry holding him back.

            "Y−you!" Shawn tried to speak as he pulled against them, locking eyes with Trevor for a moment before the other people in the room rushed him out to get taken care of.

            Maddie followed Trevor out, most likely to try to explain Shawn’s behavior, while Juliet and Gus stepped in front of Shawn to try and calm him down.

"Shawn! Stop, he’s gone!" she pleaded with him.

"Why’d you do that?" Gus looked down at Shawn’s hand and jerked away as if burned. "Guys! He’s bleeding!"

Everyone looked down and noticed Shawn’s right hand was smeared with blood.

Carlton got a better look. "It’s not his. He probably got some splash back from when he stabbed Jones."

Shawn paused to look at his hand too, and his father stood back, still worried about what he might do. "Shawn, we’ll get that cleaned off. Don't mess with it."

"I'll get some tow−" Her partner's voice trailed off as he stared at Shawn's bloody hand, his brow furrowing in concentration. Suddenly, he grabbed Juliet by her arm and started dragging her down the hall.

"Wait! Carlton what are you doing!?" Juliet shouted. Has everyone lost their minds today?

Determination still etched in his features, he said sternly, "We have to get back to the station. I think I know what happened, and I’ll explain on the way."

-----------------------------------

"You can’t lock up my son!"

"I understand your predicament but if you’d just lis−"

"He’s never done anything like that in his life, and Mr. Jones said he wasn’t going to press any charges."

"Mrs. Spencer, please calm down."

The doctor did his best to pacify her, but she wasn't having any of it. They hadn't been able to get a hold of Dr. Keizer, and she was stuck talking to someone who didn't even deserve to be an intern in her opinion, much less a doctor. He didn't care that what happened was completely out of character for Shawn. He was just worried about cleaning up the mess and avoiding any bad publicity for the center.

She herself had followed Trevor Jones down the hallway, telling him how sorry she was and trying her best to avoid any legal repercussions for her son. He had just told her that he wasn't going to press charges before this doctor pulled her into his office and told her that they were going to restrain her son for his own good.

The doctor continued, "I understand he said he wouldn’t take this to court, but it doesn’t stop Shawn from potentially hurting people. I also have an orderly who swears up and down that Shawn caused him to trip and injure his back." The doctor shook his head. "His behavior today has proved that he is a danger to both himself and others. His violent tendencies have made this necessary, Mrs. Spencer."

Before Maddie could reply or show him how much she really felt like being a ‘danger to others,’ Henry barged in the door, out of breath. "Maddie, Lassiter and Juliet just tore out of here without an explanation. Something must be up."

She turned her gaze to the doctor. "See! Nothing is sitting right with anyone about this, Dr. Cartwright. Anyone who really knew my son can see that." Maddie ignored Henry's look at her use of his words.

"Be that as it may, we are still going to have to restrain him somehow until we can get his behavior managed."

Maddie hung her head in defeat. There was really no stopping that, but what she could do for Shawn was to talk to the detectives and help them figure out what was going on. She cast one last scathing look at the doctor. "Let's go Henry. We're going to find Juliet and Detective Lassiter. Which way did they go?"

As she led Henry down the hall, he replied, "I heard them saying something about the station. I'm going to call Karen and see if they went there. She's going to want to get an update too."

"How is he?" Out of the doctor's presence, Maddie's anger was dissipating and was replaced with worry for her son

"He wasn't hurt, just got some blood on him. They're cleaning him up right now." As an afterthought, as if knowing she would ask, he added, "Gus is with him."

She'd always liked Gus and was constantly amazed at his loyalty to her son. "Good. I wouldn't want him to be alone after that. Now, let's go find out what's wrong with our son." As long as Gus was with him, Maddie knew that Shawn would be just fine.

------------------------------------

Gus was still sitting by Shawn, watching a nurse named Sarah do her best to clean him up, when a group of nurses, a male orderly, and a doctor came in. The determined looks on their faces made him uneasy and he moved closer to Shawn protectively. "What's going on?"

The doctor moved forward, motioning Sarah to stand back. "I'm sorry, Mr. Guster, but after what happened, we are not allowing Shawn any visitors for a few hours. It would actually be better if you came back to visit him tomorrow."

Shawn's eyes widened and he looked to Gus desperately. "No!"

"Shawn, we can't have you hurting people," one of the nurses said sadly. "We just want you to get better."

Sarah seemed to have the same opinion as Gus, and voiced it. "I've never seen him hurt anyone before. How do you know it wasn't just part of his condition, Dr. Cartwright?"

"That is what we're going to determine, but for now we need to take precautions." The doctor motioned for an orderly to come forward carrying padded restraints. He didn't look too broken up about having to restrain Shawn. In fact, the man almost looked happy about it.

Gus was flabbergasted and he got directly in the orderly's way. "You can't be serious! I'm going to let his dad know!"

Exasperated, the doctor addressed him again. "Mr. Guster. His parents are well aware of the fact that he is being restrained. I just got done talking with them."

Henry and Maddie already gave permission for them to do this? Why didn't they tell me? He turned to Shawn to try and calm him down. "Shawn, I'm coming back as soon as they let me okay?" He almost lost all his resolve when the orderly and the nurses started putting the restraints on Shawn, and his friend went completely boneless. He gazed at Gus sadly. "Shawn, I promise. Bright and early tomorrow you'll see me."

It wouldn't help Shawn if he protested and ended up getting thrown out. So, with a sigh of surrender, he pushed past one of the people on his friend’s arms and gave Shawn a fist bump before he turned and started walking down the hallway. Gus pushed back tears and wondered why Henry and Maddie had not told him what the doctor had planned for Shawn, or told him where everyone had gone. They were stressed, sure, but he thought he was part of the family enough to get that bit of relevant information.

Upset, and too mad to talk to either of Shawn's parents, he dialed up Alice. They'd only gone out a few times, but she knew what he was going through and was a great listener.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey... Alice. Something happened with Shawn today, and I need someone to talk to. Are you available for dinner?"

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An hour after being attacked, Trevor Jones stormed from the hospital. His hand was wrapped in a huge bandage. A huge, ugly bandage.

Of course, he’d had play the ‘nice guy’ for the cameras. "The poor man didn’t know what he was doing. He’s still a hero." The press ate the whole thing up. His standing in the public’s eyes would probably be a lot better for it in the long run, but it didn’t change the fact that right now, his hand hurt like hell.

The whole ordeal, besides being painful, had freaked him out. The wild fury in Shawn's eyes was frightening. He'd only met the man once, almost a year before, but in that hospital room it was like the psychic's only goal in life was to take him out. Trevor knew that kind of anger. He'd felt it more than once and it usually left a few bodies in its wake.

Like what was going to happen today. Not just any body either; Shawn Spencer's body.

He opened his car door, and managed to get his phone out of his right pocket with his left hand, grumbling the entire time. "That guy is gonna pay."

With his phone finally in his hand, he pushed 3 on the speed dial and waited.

The other line was picked up only after one ring. "Can this wait Trevor? I’m a bit busy." A small yelp of pain in the background proved that fact to the politician.

It really couldn’t wait, but even though the assassin was on his payroll, Trevor still hated to interrupt him when he was 'working'. "Stan, that psychic detective I was supposed to see today−"

"What about him? Weren’t you going with the sympathy card on that guy, ya know, for voting and stuff?"

Trevor grit his teeth in frustration. Stan was good at what he did, but eloquence wasn’t one of his talents and correcting him at that moment wouldn’t have been a good idea. "Yeah. Voting stuff. The guy stabbed me in the hand, Stan. There was something in his eyes, like he knows stuff about me. He’s supposed to be psychic, what if−"

"Are you serious man? You got shaken up by a head case? Oh, hold on a sec." Trevor rolled his eyes and waited. He had to move the phone away from his ear when there were three gunshots in rapid succession and a heavy thunk. Stan came back on a moment later. "So, what? I’m guessing you want me to off this guy or somethin'?

"I want it taken care of, yes. He has a lot of cop friends, but if you get him tonight, they won’t be around. He isn't allowed visitors after what he did to me. Make it look like an accident or whatever. Something tells me that this kid has a lot of them." Trevor winced as he bumped his hand while getting in his car. "He’s escaped this place once already. If he could do it, I’m sure you could get him out no problem."

Stan chuckled darkly, sending shivers up Trevor’s spine. "Can do boss." The line went dead after that.

Trevor frowned at the phone before putting it back in his left pocket. Stan better be careful with this job, or he would be the next one taken care of. He was so close to running this city and its police department. No one was going to screw it up for him.

No one.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11- Getting Away With Murder (August)

I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth, I am getting away with murder
And is it possible to never tell the truth?
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder

Papa Roach- "Getting Away With Murder"

Once at the station, Carlton hurried down to the file room, Juliet hot on his heels. He quickly pulled open drawers, looking for the specific file he remembered; the one that Shawn had tried to tell him about, right before the shelf fell on him. He knew the general area it should go in, but unfortunately not the name that was on it. What made it more difficult, was that the outer folder with Shawn's bloody hand print had been replaced by a new cover, like a lot of the other ones that had been close enough to get ruined, which ruled out looking just for files with new folders. There was only a single finger smudge of blood on one of the original court documents that they couldn't throw away that would identify it.

Just before he knew Juliet would demand answers, he spoke. “After the shelf fell, and you left with the Chief, I stuck around and helped clean up the mess. I came across a file with Shawn’s hand print on it, in blood.” Carlton held up his hand. “Just like this. It had to be the one that he was carrying when the shelf fell over.”

"I remember. He said he wanted us to see something. I never thought about it because he'd been doing that all evening." Carlton mumbled something about 'join the club' before he caught the look he'd been dreading to see from his partner. It was the scrunched eyes and hands on hips that his sister used to give him when she was about to put him through an interrogation. "What made you think of the file? It couldn't have been just the blood on his hand. I know you, so spill."

She was right, there was one more thing that he'd remembered, but it was something he hadn't wanted to tell her until he knew for sure. With a defeated groan, he explained, "I read some of the file out of curiosity and remembered something from it. It was a murder, and the major evidence were some unique tire tracks. There was mention of a tip in the margins, and the tip was to look for a Lamborghini Gillardo with those tires."

"Why didn't they look into it?" Juliet asked, confused. "Tire tracks have solved a lot of cases over the years."

"I don't know. It's a rare car around here, but I just happened to see one today at the hospital." Carlton stopped searching and stared at his partner, waiting for her to come to the same conclusion he did.

"Wait, you don't think... Trevor Jones? You think Shawn remembered the file? That's why he attacked him?" Carlton frowned at the worry on his partner's face. He'd get Trevor Jones just for that if he could, but getting away with murder for years right under the city's nose was enough to send his already skyrocketing anger into orbit.

"I could have played it off as nothing, just a coincidence, but there was something else. Shawn was heading down West Alamar Street when he was picked up. That was less than two blocks away from a property that is owned by Jones. It just adds up."

"Carlton, if that's true then Shawn−"

"Has been trying to solve this case since he woke up." Carlton turned away, ashamed at what he was about to say, but he knew it was time to spill the last of the beans. "I never told you this but before Spencer ran off, he kept calling the station from his hospital room for almost a week solid. I didn't know why, but after a while I got angry and yelled at him." He turned back to Juliet, looking guilty. "He never called again after that. I never thought he actually wanted something. I just figured his wires got crossed and he was just dialing to get a hold of you, or because it was a number he remembered. I never thought he'd actually been trying to call in a tip."

Tears started to fall from Juliet's eyes. Knowing for a fact that Shawn's mind was intact, or at least functional enough to try and track a killer long term would be a huge relief for her, but he couldn't get his partner's hopes up yet.

"But, there's no way we can know for sure, unless we find that file."

Juliet's face fell. "Do you know how long that could take? It took us hours to organize, let alone look for one file!"

"We'll help."

Carlton turned, surprised, and saw Henry, Maddie and Karen standing in the doorway listening. The detectives had been so into their conversation, they'd missed their arrival entirely.

Smiling in gratitude, Juliet ran up and hugged the three. "Thank you, but... who's watching Shawn?"

"Gus stayed behind. He'll keep an eye on him," Henry confirmed.

With all five of them, it shouldn't take more than a few hours to find the file and get to the bottom of things. If Shawn was right, and Trevor was a murderer, then they'd be saving the city a lot of trouble, and possibly more killings. Even from a hospital bed, Shawn never ceased to astound him. "Alright everyone. Let's do this."

-----------------------------------------

            Shawn lazily pulled on the wrist restraints. They gave him just enough room to reach the corner of the bed, but not to scratch his face, which itched like crazy. Tugging on them was more for something to do than really trying to get out of them. He'd struggled and tried to rip them off until the sun went down, but it was no use. It was just another thing for him to give up on. Not that it mattered anymore anyway.

            He couldn't believe how stupid he was to stab Trevor like that. However, after so many months of seeing nothing but his smiling and laughing mug from campaign ads as he fooled the entire city with that fake persona, Shawn snapped. As expected, no one realized the truth, and they'd locked him up as a lunatic.

            Maybe I am a lunatic. Maybe I'm just seeing what isn't there and I'm worse off than even they realize. Shawn remembered the girl from the hallway, and the nurses' words.

            "Poor thing gets delusions that we are holding her against her will."

            Isn't that what was going on with him? Trevor was out to get him, the orderly was out to get him... it could be all in his head. That was a scarier thought than knowing a murderer was going to become mayor. All he had was his mind, and if it was gone, he really did have nothing.

            "Look who's in trouble." Shawn lifted his head and grimaced as Pete walked in the room, looking incredibly smug and carrying a clipboard.

            Then again, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean people aren't out to get you.

            The orderly looked down at the information on the papers and tsked disappointedly. "Potentially dangerous... Well I think the doctors are finally coming around." The fake concern dropped from Pete's face like a mask. "I know you tripped me on purpose and tried to make the other nurses hate me. 'Poor Shawn, he doesn't know what he's doing...’ blah blah BLAH." Pete emphasized the last word by slamming the clipboard down on the side table.

            Shawn twisted his wrist to reach the call button attached to the railing. Nothing happened. Oh shit. He hit it over and over and still nothing.

            "I disconnected that when I put the restraints on you earlier. I didn't want any interruptions," Pete responded coolly. Starting to panic, Shawn the restraints so hard they shook the bed before the abusive orderly smacked his arm. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to teach you a lesson about messing with me."

            There wasn't much Shawn could do besides go boneless as the restraints were removed and he was practically dragged to his wheelchair. Pete then started pushing him towards what he figured was the rehab rooms. Torture by rehab, and the bastard could completely deny any harm caused to Shawn and blame it on him over exerting himself. He'd done it before to others who weren't so 'cooperative.'

            As a last ditch effort to not go anywhere with Pete, Shawn reached down and grabbed at the wheels of the chair to stop any forward momentum. It ended up pinching his hand and spinning the chair sideways, but it did also end up hitting Pete hard in the shin.

            "Son of a bitch," Pete groaned and rubbed his now sore leg. "You're going to pay for that one, Shawn."

            "Shawn? Shawn Spencer?" Both of them turned to find a large man standing behind them in the hallway. He was dressed in scrubs, but Shawn had never seen him in the hospital before. He could also tell by the man's posture that there was something off about him.

            Either too pissed off or not smart enough to tell when something was wrong, Pete confronted the man. "Who are you and what are you doing here? Shawn can't receive visitors today."

            "I'm not exactly a visitor. I'm just wondering if the man in that chair is Shawn Spencer."

            "Yeah, what of it?" Pete replied hesitantly, as if wondering if he was busted.

            "I was sent by his doctors. They want to run some tests on him right now. So you can leave; I'll take it from here."

            The speech sounded way too rehearsed to Shawn. Maybe Pete wasn't as dense as he wanted to believe, because he wasn't buying it either.

            "Look man. I don't know you, and I'm going to have to see some ID before I just hand someone over."

            The .22 pistol with silencer was out so fast that neither Shawn nor Pete had any time to react. He barely heard the 'pfft' of the bullet leaving the gun and passing directly through Pete's head and into the adjacent wall.

            As soon as Pete hit the floor, Shawn opened his mouth to scream, and found the barrel was suddenly in front of his own face. Sweat broke out on his brow and he shut his eyes, waiting for the shot. No bullet came though, only the man's rough voice. "You make one sound and I'll kill you, and whoever shows up to help you. Got it?" Shawn opened his eyes and nodded that he understood.

            The man stood up, putting the gun back into his jacket. He gave Shawn's wheelchair a smirk. "Don't you be goin' anywhere." He chuckled darkly and grabbed Pete's body, turning to stuff him in an unoccupied room for later.

            Shawn looked around for any sort of help, anyone who could have seen or heard what was going on. It wasn't past six in the evening and there were usually people milling around in the hallways and patients going back to their rooms. None of them seemed to be around when you needed them. That, or Pete had made up some excuse to keep them all out of his hair while he tortured Shawn.

            The man now had his back to him while dealing with Pete's body. It didn't seem like the killer knew he could walk, so Shawn got up from the chair and scurried as quietly as he could down the hallway, keeping an eye on the killer to see when he turned around. What the hell is going on?! Why would someone be after me now of all times? I haven't worked a case in− He had to cover his mouth to keep from gasping.

            Trevor Jones. He'd blown his cover and probably given away that he'd known all about him with his stupid stabby move. This was just great.

            "What the hell?!" the killer hissed, just now noticing his victim wasn't as immobile as he thought, although his threat still stood. If Shawn called out and anyone came down the hallway to help, he'd surely kill them just as quickly as he had Pete.

            Footsteps down the hallway made Shawn's heart skip a beat. They sounded lighter, more feminine. The killer hadn't had time to clean up Pete's blood, so if she didn't get out of there, she was a goner, or at least a hostage to use against him. The killer's footsteps moved into another doorway, waiting for his prey.

            Shawn knew he'd have to do something. It would give away his position, but he wasn't going to let another person die for him. He practiced the words he wanted to say, let it roll off his tongue, just like his mother tried to teach him. Someone's life depended on it. Shaking all over, he finally acted just before the woman's footsteps passed the last corridor.

            Poking his head out, he yelled. "RUN! GUN!"

            The frame next to his head exploded and he pulled his head back just in time. The nurse he'd yelled at turned tail and started down the opposite hallway, screaming for help and barely missed getting shot herself.

The killer’s gun clicked empty, and Shawn lurched out of his hiding place, scrambling along the slippery floor in his socks, desperate to find another perch before the shooting started again. He'd barely made it to a closet out of sight before he heard the click of the hammer falling back into place.

            "You can't hide! Someone wants you dead and I intend to deliver." The next words the man said chilled him to the bone, "And I don't have time to play hide and seek, so why don't you come out to me." He heard the gun cock. "Now."

            Risking another look, Shawn finally saw what the killer was talking about. He hadn't needed the nurse after all. He'd just grabbed someone else from their room in the same hallway and stuck the gun to their head. The former psychic detective recognized the young hostage immediately.

            Oh no, Matt.   

-------------------------

Three hours into the search, they finally found what they were looking for. There, on one of the court documents, just like Carlton had said, was a smear of Shawn's blood.

            Juliet stared at it for a second, replaying the whole grizzly incident over and over in her head. The shelf falling, Shawn screaming before going deathly silent... A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of it.

            "Juliet, dear what's the matter?" Madeline asked.

            The detective blinked away the memory and backed up, presenting the folder to the group. "I found it!"

            Soon, everyone was huddled around her as she flipped through the pages. Sure enough, there was mention of a tip, but no suspect had been apprehended. Juliet was starting to think that maybe the police officer in charge of the case didn't look very hard after finding out who one of his suspects was. "Isn't the leading detective one of the officers that went down with Drimmer?"

            "Dirty scum sucking..."

            "Detective!" Karen scolded, glaring at Carlton, before turning to Juliet again. "Keep going."

            Nodding, Juliet looked at the clues. "Shot in the head. Size 9 shoes... Trevor wears size 9, doesn't he?"

            "Still circumstantial. Anything else?" Henry asked urgently.

            She decided to take a closer look at who the victim was. Sebastian Wright, business owner in the downtown district. "The victim's profile doesn't say he had a record. Why would Trevor Jones kill a random shop owner?"

            Henry's hairy arm came from behind her shoulder and pointed to the address. "He wasn't random. He was the last hold out for the city's downtown restoration project." Everyone looked at him, waiting for an explanation as to how he knew that. "I remember that guy. I saw him a few times when I went to the café next door. He kept saying we didn't need trees to draw people in, just better businesses."

            Carlton jumped in, "That restoration was Trevor's big project, and if what Henry's saying is true, then that one man wouldn't sign the release for the construction to begin. Three weeks later, he's dead and the city administrator gets his restoration project."

            Karen smiled. "That sounds like motive to me. Detectives, will you do the honor of bringing in Trevor Jones for questioning?"

            Juliet grinned devilishly as Carlton grabbed his coat and his side arm from where he'd set it on the table. "Gladly."

            It was all happening so fast. After months of Shawn's weird behavior, they were almost to the bottom of things. Juliet couldn't wait to tell her boyfriend what they'd found out, and apologize for not listening sooner. Maybe we've been doing things backwards. Maybe instead of teaching him to communicate with us, we have to learn how to communicate with him.

            "CHIEF!" Buzz’s desperate yell sounded from down the hallway, and his tall form soon sprinted in the door to the records room.

            "What is it, McNab?"

            "Cottage Rehabilitation is reporting a shooter in the building, and he's taken a hostage."

            Henry and Maddie were in front of Buzz a split second later, "What about Shawn? Is he the hostage?" Juliet didn't blame them for jumping to that conclusion, because with Shawn's luck, it usually was him.

            "No he's not, but−" His eyes flicked to the chief, as if wondering if he should say anything. Her nod for him to go ahead was all he needed. "Initial reports say that Shawn warned them about the shooter, and may be in the general vicinity, but there's also reports of blood in the hallway, and the hostage hasn't been hurt yet."

            Henry turned to the chief, "Can't be a coincidence Karen. Trevor Jones has to be involved. Think about it;. Just a few hours after Shawn stabbed him, a shooter ends up in the hospital? Maybe the bastard knew Shawn was onto him."

            Juliet felt a huge knot in her stomach that a killer could have picked out Shawn's intentions faster than they had. By the looks of the others in the room, they were feeling it too.

            Finally, Karen sprang into action. "McNab, take back up and find Trevor Jones. Consider him armed and dangerous. Detectives." She pointed at Carlton and Juliet. "You're with me. Let's get to the hospital."

            "I'll call Gus and see if he knows what's going on. Then we're coming with you," Henry stated firmly.

            Karen sighed. "I wouldn't have expected anything else, Henry."

            Carlton and Juliet were the first ones up the stairs and heading to their car. As the pair ran through the bull pen, Karen started yelling orders about who was to go with them. Seconds later, they were in the car, speeding the two miles to the Rehab Center.

            "He'll be okay O'Hara," Carlton tried to comfort her. Any other day she'd be surprised, but right then she couldn't think of anything else besides how horrible it would be to get Shawn back, just to lose him again without the chance to say how sorry she was.

            She closed her eyes, and pleaded with the universe to let him be alive. Please be okay Shawn. Please. I love you.

---------------------------

            At Gus' apartment, he and Alice sat on his couch facing the fire, talking about his old cases. They'd spent a couple hours talking over drinks, before he'd invited her back to his place for a more relaxed environment.

            Alice was everything he expected her to be; smart, funny, caring and incredibly beautiful. It had also been oddly comforting to talk to someone more emotionally removed from his situation, but someone who also had experience with a mentally challenged relative. She'd listened patiently as he voiced his frustrations and ranted about how he'd felt left out after Henry and Maddie hadn't talked to him before they'd decided to restrain Shawn. It hurt, because he'd always thought that they considered him family.

            After some of the hard conversations, Alice had started to wheedle some of the sillier and fun experiences he and Shawn had while being detectives. Soon, he was laughing just as hard as she was.

            "Wow, so you really discovered a dinosaur?" Alice's eyes lit up at the prospect. "It sounds like you two were quite the team."

            Gus felt a pang of regret, but also pride in what he and Shawn had done in the last seven years. "Yeah, we still are though. Shawn has always been special. I guess I'm just going to have to deal with the fact that he may not be special in the same way anymore."

            Alice nodded understandingly, "You're a good man Burton Guster to stick with your friend. I've known a lot of people who couldn't make that kind of commitment." She put a hand on his leg, and Gus eyes widened at the contact as she and leaned in closer. With a sideways grin, Gus leaned in as well Just before their lips met, his phone went off.

            "Tsk, man! Every time!" Gus complained as Alice gave him an amused grin at his reaction. "What is it?" he answered gruffly. He wasn't about to be polite to anyone interrupting him in 'playa mode.'

            "Gus! What the hell is going on!? Is the hospital on lockdown yet!? Is Shawn okay!?" Henry's urgent voice asked from the other end of the line.

            Gus' face went neutral, and he held up a finger at Alice. "Excuse me one moment." He walked into the bathroom for a more private conversation. "First off, how do you expect me to know what is going on with Shawn when I was kicked out of the room hours ago?"

            There was a long pause. "What do you mean kicked out?! You're supposed to be watching him!"

            Now he was confused. "They put restraints on him and told me that they weren't allowing visitors. The doctor said you knew about it."

            "We never knew they weren't allowing him visitors. Oh God, we thought you were there too." Gus was getting worried at Henry's tone. It wasn't just urgent anymore; it was frightened, and Henry Spencer was never frightened. He heard whispering on the other end, as if Henry was talking to someone.

            "What are you talking about? Did something happen at the hospital?"

            "We just got the news. There's a shooter at the hospital Gus, and he's after Shawn."

            Gus' heart stopped beating as the words sank in. His best friend was in trouble, and he hadn't been there to help. He wasn't going to sit there and do nothing, though. "I'm on my way." He said as he rushed out of the bathroom. "Alice! Shawn needs me! I'll call you later!"

------------------------------

                        As the minutes ticked by, Shawn looked around for anything that could help him. Brooms, mops, and chemicals surrounded him. He was starting to form a plan, when he heard a few shots go off and he chanced a look around the corner. Apparently the killer had taken off the silencer, having no need of it anymore, and a few of the doctors had become too nosy.

            "Get the hell out here right now or I'll−" A trilling ringtone cut off the killer’s words, and Shawn saw the large man pale slightly. He let go of Matt, but still kept the gun trained on the back of his head, and answered the phone. "What?"

            As the killer argued with whoever had called, Shawn tried to get the terrified boy's attention. When Matt's eyes met his own, Shawn pointed to his pockets. The few weeks they’d been trying to cheer him up, Gus had relayed the message about Matt still carrying around the beads. Shawn now intended to put them to good use.

Even though he got the gist of Shawn’s plan, Matt shook his head. The boy was too scared to move, let alone reach in his pockets.

            "No shit the police are coming, and it's your goddamn fault! You said he was crippled." There was a pause, before the killer replied maliciously, "I'm going to get you for this. If I end up in jail, you're coming with me!"

            Shawn tuned out the conversation, and tried to come up with a plan B. Unfortunately, that's when it hit him. Whether it was the stress of the situation, or if someone out there didn't think he had enough on his plate at that moment, things started to glow.

            NO NO! Not now! Shawn squinted his eyes, but when he opened them and blinked, it had only gotten worse. The universe hates me, I swear to God…

            Shawn didn't have much time before the seizure struck. It was already getting harder and harder to see and the pain was starting to spike. Matt, please just listen to me! Shawn pointed at his pocket, and made a scattering motion with his hands. Someone, listen to me for a change!

            "You know what, screw you and the job. I'm outta' here."

            It was now or never. Matt had to do something to distract the killer, or he was a goner. Probably they both were if the killer, who Shawn now realized was a hit man, just had a falling out with his employer and the cops were almost there. Finally working up the nerve, but with shaky hands, Matt slowly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a good fistful of beads. Shawn made wait motions as the hit man hung up.

            "Times up," He stated coldly, and cocked the gun.

Shawn, in a last ditch distraction effort, grabbed a spray bottle from the bucket beside him and chucked it as hard as he could at the pair.

Instinctively, and just as Shawn planned, the man backed up, at the same time Matt let go of the beads. Just like Pete, he went down like a rock.

            As soon as Shawn saw the man fall, he stumbled straight for them , planning on grabbing the gun and getting it as far away from the killer as he could. Matt, however, ran away from the man and down the hallway, yelling for help.

            Shawn was lucky enough to land a good kick to the downed man's jaw, before he tripped on the beads themselves and crashed to the floor, dazed and foiled by his own trap.

            The momentary disadvantage allowed the killer to punch him in the kidney, completely knocking the wind out of him. "AH!"

            As the punch landed, Shawn could have sworn that he heard his name being called from somewhere, but it sounded muffled and far away. Vaguely through the blinding lights obscuring his vision, he was at least happy he'd gotten Matt out of the line of fire and that no one else was going to be killed because of him.

            "SHAWN! MOVE!"

            He blinked lazily, but definitely heard that one. He groaned loudly and used the last of his strength to roll away from the killer as he heard a shot go off. He was too far gone to know which end of the hallway it came from.

------------------------

            Three minutes earlier:

            When Juliet and Carlton got to the hospital, they were greeted by multiple gunshots coming from inside the building. Juliet still had the sense to radio that there were shots fired, only her shaking limbs gave away the panic she was holding back A few doctors approached them, and quickly started giving them the rundown. Two patients were involved, but they weren't sure which ones, but both Matt Enders and Shawn weren't accounted for.

            "We need to get in there, Carlton," Juliet pleaded, and he nodded.

“Damn right we do.” They both looked over to see more and more officers, including Karen, Henry and Maddie, pull up. Carlton pointed to the oncoming crowd of officers and ushered the doctors their way. "Talk to these people. We're going in."

            Karen pointed at the building and they both disappeared into the doors of the center.

            There were a few stragglers, mainly doctors who'd been making sure all the patients had gotten out, coming their way. The detectives quickly motioned for them to leave, and they didn't hesitate one bit. None except one of the nurses, tucked behind a corner near the desk. Juliet recognized her as Sarah, one of Shawn's regular nurses.

            She was pointing frantically down the hall, and a young boy sprinted from around the corner. "HELP! He's gonna kill Shawn!"

            Juliet pushed the young boy behind her and out of the way, and both detectives rounded the corner with their guns drawn just in time to see Shawn kick the shooter and go down hard, tangling himself in the other man.

            "SHAWN!" A voice from behind them yelled. It was Gus. He must have snuck past everyone, because even though he was Shawn’s friend, Karen never would have let him inside.

            "Guster, get out of here!" Carlton hissed, keeping his eyes on the two men rolling on the ground. Juliet’s partner had drawn his gun, but wasn't able to get a shot with Shawn in the way.

They all groaned in sympathy pain as Shawn took a hard punch to the kidney. It let the killer get a better grip on his gun. He started to lift it and point it at the prone Shawn, who didn't seem to be moving right. His movements were jerky, and uncoordinated. More than usual anyway.

            "He's about to have a seizure!" Gus exclaimed and took action. "SHAWN! MOVE!" The shout had the dual effect of getting the killer's attention, as well as spurring Juliet's lethargic boyfriend to give his uncooperative body one last push. He rolled out of the way, giving both of them the shot they needed.

            Gunfire erupted from both sides, but the shooter stood no chance against two detectives with an axe to grind.

            He was dead seconds later.

            As soon as it was safe, Juliet watched as Gus ran to Shawn, who was in the middle of his seizure. She wasn't far behind him, but heard Carlton stay back and report the all clear. Gus gave Shawn a quick once over glance, and realized the blood that was on the floor hadn’t been his. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm sorry for leaving Shawn." Gus grabbed his friend's hand, comforting him.

            "Where were you?" Juliet asked accusingly, while coming up beside him. "His parents said you were watching him!"

            "I got kicked out. They called me at home and I got here as soon as I could." She felt instantly bad for thinking that Gus would abandon Shawn, but she'd been so worried. "What happened? Why was this guy after Shawn?"

            She quickly gave him the rundown about Trevor Jones before everyone else started to trickle in. The look of disbelief on Gus' face was almost priceless. "Shawn figured that out? Are you sure?"

            Juliet nodded. "He's been trying to say something about it for months. We just haven't been listening."

            "Oh, Goose!" They heard Maddie exclaim, and both of them moved back so Shawn's parents could see how he was doing. The shaking was subsiding, and his eyelids were starting to flutter back open and he groaned in pain.

            Carlton got Juliet’s attention away from the touching scene, and pointed to a room close to them. “We have a body. That’s where the blood on the floor came from. It looks to be the orderly who was with Shawn when the perp arrived.”

            Sarah, the nurse who had been comforting Matt stepped forward, “The doctor never authorized Shawn to leave his room.” Her face was contorted in disgust and anger. “I knew he was lying about Shawn! He always was a creep.”

            An officer in blue approached Karen excitedly, "Chief, we just got word from McNab. Trevor Jones is in custody! He was caught right before he left his house. McNab said it looked like he was about to take off."

            "Thank you. Tell McNab good work, and keep a close eye on Jones."

            The officer cast Shawn a worried look before smiling at the chief. "Can do. Give Shawn our best too okay?"

            Juliet nodded, and quietly rejoiced that Trevor was off the streets, but there was still one problem. "How are we going to prove that he did this? Our only witness is dead."

            It took a moment before Carlton stooped over, and grabbed the dead killer's cell phone. "How much do you want a bet that the last call he got was from Trevor Jones." He shook the phone teasingly.

            "Carlton you're a genius!" Juliet exclaimed, dropping all composure and giving her partner a hug.

            "Yeah, yeah... just don't tell Spencer I thought he was right. I have a reputation to keep."

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They spent the next half hour putting the pieces together, figuring out what happened that night with Shawn. Near as they could tell, Shawn was taken from his room, and escaped the wheelchair after the orderly Pete was shot. He then warned a nurse, distracted the killer, saved a fellow patient and had almost incapacitated said killer, all by himself. After that, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Shawn was in there.

            While they’d worked, the hospital staff had gotten Shawn back into his bed, and by the time they got back he was mostly awake.

Juliet rushed up and kissed him. He wrapped his hands around her and held her tight. "Jul!"

Even Henry had a tear or two in his eye and looked at his son with pride. "I'm sorry I doubted you kid. Good job."

"For the record, I never doubted you for one− OW!" Gus cursed as Henry's bony elbow caught him right between a rib.

"How in the world did you manage to do this, Spencer?" Carlton shook his head, still in awe at everything that had happened.

            None of them had really expected Shawn to answer to that, but he let go of Juliet, and for the first time since his accident Shawn gave a full smile and put his finger to his temple.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12- I Remember Everything

If I could hold back the rain, would you numb the pain?
Cause I remember everything.
If I could help you forget, would you take my regrets?
Cause I remember everything.

It all went by so fast; I still can't change the past
I always will remember, everything
If we could start again, would that change the end?
We remember everything.

Five Finger Death Punch- "I Remember Everything"

            Six Months Later:

            "We the jury find Trevor Jones guilty of first degree murder and attempted murder. Recommended sentence; life without parole." The spokeswoman for the jury sat down, purposefully keeping her eyes on the judge, and not on the seething murderer across the courtroom.

            Trevor was absolutely livid and turned in his seat to give Shawn the most hateful glare he had ever received in his entire life. As they pulled him, cuffed and shackled, out of the room, he screamed, "You're a dead man! I'll see you in the ground you stupid re−" With one last push, the bailiff had the murderer out the door and well on his way to a new life in Lompoc.

            Shawn felt vindicated when he heard the whispers, "I can't believe I was going to vote for him." Of course, Swaggerty had won by default, but due to Shawn's help he'd been a lot more lenient on his consulting rules and had personally thanked him for his service to the city.

            Juliet squeezed his hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which he thoroughly enjoyed. "You did a good job up there."

            "Rea−lly?" It had been completely embarrassing, and the defense's lawyer kept trying to get Juliet and Gus in trouble for 'leading the witness,' but with his particular disability the judge allowed both of them to talk for him when he couldn't.

            His speech had come back in leaps and bounds once they found something that actually worked for him, but it was like learning a whole new language. Anyone who'd ever heard him speak Spanish could attest to how difficult that was for him. Most of the time, he just used gestures to get what he wanted, but he was really trying.

            "Come on, let's get out of here and get something to eat. I'm starved." Gus rose from the bench with a stretch.

            "Yes." Shawn agreed and grabbed his forearm crutches. They weren't the coolest, but they were helping him stay steady on his feet until he could walk correctly on his own. Plus, when Juliet hadn't been looking, he had tricked them out with lightning bolt stickers and streamers that she hadn't the heart to take off yet.

            As they walked to their cars, Carlton griped, "All you think about is food. I don't have time; I have to go back to the station and finish the reports on this. Then I won't have to hear or think of the name Trevor Jones for the rest of my life if I can help it." He rubbed his face wearily.

            It had been the head detective, along with Juliet, that had done the grunt work of gathering up all the evidence of Trevor's past crimes and taking statements, writing reports, generally wearing themselves out for the past few months to make sure that the murderer never saw the light of day again.

            "I hear that," Juliet agreed, "but we still have to eat."

            Shawn pulled her close and whispered something in her ear that would cinch the deal. Juliet's face brightened as she addressed her partner, "There's a new pizza place in town. All you can eat and it looks like an old horse ranch."

            Carlton paused. "Old horse ranch?" Shawn knew his mind was flooding with nostalgia over his ranch hang out from when he was a child. "I guess we could check it out."

            "Great, but Shawn..." Juliet paused nervously, "but no more feeding Tick under the table. It'll make him sick again."

            "Yeah," Gus stressed, glaring at him. "I am not cleaning that up this time. Your dog, your mess."

            Sighing, Shawn nodded. Tick was his new service dog, and even though he was still technically a puppy, being a mastiff he was already ginormous, with an appetite to match. He'd had to pick out a larger dog, one that could pull his weight if he dropped and had a seizure in an unsafe place, or his unsteady legs gave out. When he'd seen that wrinkly face and adorable eyes, he couldn't resist. Gus hated him for it; Tick barely fit in his new car, but he was starting to warm up to the dog. As long as he didn't throw up in the car again, anyway.

            "Fine then." Gus said coolly at Shawn's agreement. "Remember, I have a fiancé now. I need to keep the car clean for my lady."

            "I think it's a new record for you Guster,” Carlton pointed out with a snide smile. “Someone besides Spencer that can stand your presence for longer than three months that isn't a murdering psychopathic− SON OF A BITCH, SPENCER! Watch where you put those things!"

            Shawn had 'accidentally' whacked Carlton in the shin with one of his crutches, and was lucky that the detective didn't see the fist bump Gus gave on the sly for defending his honor. "Sor−ry Las."

            Suddenly, Juliet stopped Shawn, but waved the others off. "Go ahead, we'll catch up." Shrugging, both Gus and Carlton continued on down the hallway of the courthouse, once again arguing about women.

            Shawn was nervous. The look on his girlfriend's face was hard to read, but he saw trepidation, nervousness and determination. Did I do something wrong?

            "Shawn, I want you to think about moving into a bigger place with me. The house is nice, but with Tick it seems to be, well, kind of small."

            He couldn't disagree. He'd gotten out of the center four months prior, and it was a lot more cramped than he remembered. Shawn cocked his head. "Okay. Why?"

            "When your dad and I were cleaning up around Psych to get it ready for you again, I found this." Juliet reached into her purse and pulled out the ring case he'd picked up a few weeks before his accident. It was a lot more obvious than a Thundercat, but at least it wouldn't be mistakenly sold for seven bucks. She opened it, and inside was the ring.

            "I ca−can ex−e..." His nervousness was showing, and he couldn't find the words to say anything. His confidence was still shot; even though he was trying to get his life back together, he still thought Juliet deserved better.

            "Shawn." She kissed him, halting his butchered attempts at the English language. "After everything that's happened, I realized how important you are to me, and how much I'd like to really start a life with you."

            His eyes widened. For once he was speechless, not because he couldn't talk, but because he couldn't believe he'd ended up with someone so wonderful.

            "I know you weren't ready to ask me, and I don't want you to think I'm asking you just because of the accident." She handed him the ring box. "So when you want to ask me, I'll be waiting."

            Shawn pursed his lips, and carefully put the box into his pocket, before giving her a big hug, signifying his gratitude. "I L−ove."

            "I love you too Shawn."

---------------------------------

            Outside the courthouse, both Carlton and Gus were waiting for their respective partners. While they watched Juliet help Shawn down the stairs, Carlton leaned over and asked, "Guster, Marlowe's birthday is coming up and I was wondering if you knew any nice restaurants in town I could take her to. Since you're so good with the ladies and all."

            Man, won't he give me a break? Gus straightened and looked the detective right in the eye. "Look, Lassiter. I know you think I'm some sort of lady's man who just wants a night of fun and knows every romantic restaurant within a hundred miles, but all I've ever wanted was a nice girl who likes me and isn't a serial killer. Someone just like Alice." Gus saw Carlton look down guiltily, obviously sorry for the uncouth comments he'd made in the hallway. "That being said I think Ca Dario Ristorante would be a good choice."

            Carlton quickly whipped out a pad of paper and a pen, mumbling "Ca Dario... Thanks Guster."

            "Don't mention it."

            By the time Shawn got to the bottom, Carlton had put his pad and paper away. "C'mon O'Hara! I want to see how authentic this pizza place really is."

            "Alright, let's go. See you in a few, Shawn." Gus didn't miss the large smile his friend gave her before she walked off, and he knew something was up.

            Grabbing his arm to help him down to his car, and the happily barking Tick, Gus had to ask what was up. "Shawn, what happened up there? Did Juliet say something to you?"

            "Gus, don't be a half eaten Eskimo pie." Gus stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. He hadn't heard Shawn speak that clearly since his accident. "I'm ju' h−happy." Shawn opened his car door and slipped in, still grinning.

            Wait a minute... "Did Juliet teach you to say that?! It's still not funny, Shawn!" Even though it really was funny. Great in fact, that every day they seemed to get a little more of Shawn back. It would be a long road ahead, for them and for Psych, but with Shawn getting his feet wet in the detective business again it was only a matter of time before they were back in the groove. Gus got in his own side, glaring across the distance as Shawn patted Tick on the head. "Remember Shawn, we're picking up your parents from the airport, and this thing has to be dropped off. I doubt they want to be welcomed back from a honeymoon by a hundred pound drool monster."

            "Puppy."

            "DOG," Gus stressed

            Shawn raised his hands and crossed them, pointing two directions.

            "No, you haven't heard it both ways Shawn!" Despite Gus' frustration, he couldn't help but smile back at his friend. They all knew that Shawn may never be the same again, but he loved them and his work. Since they were kids, Gus could always count on Shawn working for things that he really loved and cared about. So, even if his friend didn't come all the way to what he used to be, he would never stop trying. For Gus, and everyone who knew Shawn, that's what really counted.