Hello again! Chocolaterose here! I got lots of great feedback for my story "Tomorrow", so I decided to make a sequel! It is not, however, a songfic like "Tomorrow" was, and it's in Shawn's point of view. It'll probably be two chapters, but it could turn into three.

**This fic is dedicated to islashlove and Gothicragdoll, for being my first reviewers and encouraging me to write this! Thanks again, guys!**

Reviews and concrit are welcome! Enjoy!

Summary: Sequel to "Tomorrow". Shawn wakes up to a completely different Santa Barbara, and sets out to make it right again. Shassie slash

Warnings: Slash. Angst. Some language, though nothing massively off-putting. Mentions of abuse. T to be safe.

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of the characters.

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FOREVER

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Part One

The sunlight shining through his eyelids roused Shawn out of his deep sleep. He moaned into his pillow and stretched his arms, his eyes still closed. Last night had been the best sleep he'd had in a long time - Lassie had shown up at the door around nine, and he'd kissed Shawn like he'd never kissed him before, touched him gentler than he ever had, and pretty much treated him like a god. They'd ended up spent and tangled in each other's arms, and the last thing the fake psychic had felt was a kiss pressed into his hair. It had been amazing.

But there had been something different about Lassiter last night. He'd seemed strange, not himself in a way. He'd practically begged Shawn for permission to even touch him, and even after it had been granted he'd still hesitated before kissing him. He'd apologized for hurting the younger man, and for causing him to leave their apartment and run to his father's house. But when Shawn had tried to tell Lassiter he was forgiven, the detective had cut him off and said he didn't deserve forgiveness anymore. Shawn had respected that and not said anything else, but he'd tried to show the older man that he really did forgive him by the way he touched him and let himself be touched. Shawn hoped he'd gotten the message through.

Shawn forgave Lassiter for everything, whether it be for forgetting a dinner reservation or for nearly breaking his arm. He knew the detective didn't understand why - hell, even Shawn didn't - but no matter what went wrong, the fake psychic just let it go and gave Lassiter an "it's okay" squeeze of the hand or an "I still love you" kiss.

Perhaps the biggest reason for his persistent forgiveness was the fact that he knew Lassiter like no one else did. He could tell when Lassiter meant something he said and when he didn't. He could tell when the older man was lying, when he was trying to cover up anger or sadness, when he wanted nothing more than to just sleep the day off and relax.

That was how Shawn knew Lassiter felt unbearably guilty about all those fights they'd had - or, more specifically, about the injuries he'd caused. The horror had been clear on his face after every time he'd hit, insulted, or threatened Shawn, and the younger man had picked up on it easily. So the next day, he would let Lassiter know that the incident was all but forgotten, and they would move on.

But he'd still left a few times - twice, to be exact. The first time, because he'd been genuinely scared of Lassiter. Their relationship had just started back then, and it had been a week since Shawn had first moved into the detective's apartment. They'd gotten into a bitter disagreement about something, and things had gone downhill from there.

Words had been said that neither of them had truly meant. Dishes had gone flying, thrown by both of them.

But Lassiter had been the only one to use his fists.

His second swing had connected with the left side of Shawn's face, and because he hadn't fully understood that the older man hadn't meant it, Shawn had quickly fled to a nearby motel.

But lying in that musty bed that night, staring at the cracked, water-damaged ceiling, the fake psychic had decided to give Lassiter another chance. He really liked the detective, maybe even loved him…and you give second chances to the people you love.

So the next day, Shawn had covered the ugly bruise with makeup and had gone to the station around seven, when Lassiter usually went back home. He'd stopped by his lover's office just to talk to him, but when he'd seen the look of pure guilt and misery on Lassiter's face, he'd simply gone up to him and kissed him good and hard, telling him without words that he was forgiven. He'd gone home with the Head Detective that night, and hadn't left again, no matter how brutal and mean their fights got.

Then the fight of last Saturday had happened, and it had been different.

Shawn couldn't even remember what they'd fought about, only that Lassiter had completely exploded. His eyes had practically gone red, and there had been no look of remorse or shame on his flushed face after he'd roughly grabbed Shawn by the back of the neck and bashed his forehead against a wall.

Shawn, woozy from the likely concussion, had looked long and hard at the fuming detective, trying to see the sorrow that usually appeared in his eyes after something like this happened. He waited for an apology of some sort, for some help in getting off the floor, but he'd gotten neither - Lassiter had just cursed at him and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shawn had believed he'd finally crossed some line that Lassiter had drawn without the younger man knowing, so he'd actually packed up most of his clothes and gone to his dad's place instead of a hotel. He'd wanted to go to Gus's, but his friend was off on some convention or another this week. He was the only one that knew Shawn and Lassiter were in a relationship, so it would've been a little easier to explain how he'd gotten a massive bruise on his forehead.

Henry hadn't known about the relationship, so Shawn had simply told him he'd come here to get away from a group of guys that had beaten him up and threatened to find him at home. This had made Henry want to call the police, but his son had managed to convince him not to by telling him that he already had himself. Luckily, the retired cop had bought it, and Shawn had finally been able to go to bed.

Shawn had stayed at his father's house for more than a week, not once leaving the property or speaking to Lassiter. He hadn't slept well, though, and he'd only eaten one meal a day. Mainly he'd camped out in front of the TV and watched it for a few hours, not really paying any attention.

Yesterday, Henry had told him he was leaving for a fishing tournament in San Francisco and wouldn't be back for a few days. Shawn had barely even registered his father's absence, and he was beginning to think he had become depressed.

Then Lassiter had shown up at the front door, looking more ashamed than he ever had before, and just like that Shawn's life had meaning again.

Shawn reluctantly pulled himself out of the best sleep he'd had in days. With another stretch of his arms and a mumbled "Lassie?", he opened his eyes slightly and looked to his right, expecting to see the older man lying there beside him.

He wasn't.

Shawn was suddenly wide awake. Confusion and disbelief swarmed around in his head, and he wondered briefly if the events of last night had just been a pleasant dream.

But no. Not only was Shawn quite naked, but the mattress and the pillow on the other half of the bed were both indented, suggesting that someone had been lying there before.

The fake psychic still doubted that Lassie would leave him without saying goodbye - no matter how much the detective hurt him, he would never be that insensitive - but there was one other piece of evidence the hyper-observant man picked up that bashed those hopes to pieces. Only he didn't find this evidence with his eyes.

The faint but distinct smell of Carlton Lassiter's American Crew cologne still lingered on the pillowcase.

Shawn's heart clenched in his chest, and he feared it would stop altogether. Despite the fact that he was only propped up on his elbow, a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he collapsed back onto the bed. His eyes stung, and he choked out a strangled sob. Shock replaced the confusion he had felt, but the disbelief remained as the realization hit him full force.

Lassie had left him. Without saying goodbye.

How could he? Why would he?

Why would he?

Shawn thought back to the previous night, frantically scanning his memories from it for any clues that this might have happened, any hints that the detective had been planning to do this to him. As he thought back, he realized that there were several.

He seemed almost scared of me…his hands were shaking…he was still in his work clothes…he cut me off when I tried to forgive him…he treated me better than he ever has…

…he didn't say it back.

Shawn actually let out a gasp when he realized this. Right before they'd fallen asleep, he'd told Lassiter that he loved him.

But the detective hadn't said it back.

He'd kissed him in a way he'd never kissed him before; he'd touched him like he was touching pure gold; his actions had said "I love you, too"…but he hadn't actually spoken the words.

Maybe everything that had happened last night really had been a goodbye.

It had all been one big apology, for everything that Lassiter had ever done to him. And he hadn't said "I love you" back because it would've made it too hard for him to leave in the morning. There was no way he could've abandoned Shawn like this after telling him he loved him. Last night had been a night of reconciliation for the detective, and nothing more.

A single tear managed to break free from the corner of Shawn's eye, and the brunette didn't even bother to wipe it away. Did this mean that he and Lassie were over? Broken up?

No. No, he'd seen the hunger and the need in the older man's eyes last night. He needed Shawn as much as Shawn needed him, and there was no way he would leave without a damn good reason. He wouldn't just end it like this, not without explaining himself.

Something was very, very wrong.

Shawn knew he had to find Lassiter, and soon. He studied the indents on the pillow and mattress again - they didn't look like they were fresh, and the pillow was cold. Lassiter had left at least an hour ago, maybe longer. Shawn glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed - 7:24 a.m. The Head Detective's shift at the station started at seven. If he had left an hour ago, that would've given him a half hour to get to the station, which was only fifteen minutes from Henry's house. Why would he leave so early?

Unless he wasn't going to the station…

Shawn decided to just stop thinking so hard about it and see if Lassiter was at work. He hurried out of the guest bedroom, got dressed, covered the remainder of the bruise on his forehead with makeup, and headed downstairs. Grabbing the keys for his motorcycle off of the kitchen counter, he practically flew out the back door and hopped on his bike, all the while praying that Lassiter would be at the station when he got there.

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Shawn parked his bike in the usual spot and skimmed his eyes over the cars in front of the station, looking for Lassiter's.

The Head Detective's spot was empty.

"No," Shawn muttered to himself, feeling the tears brimming in his eyes again. "No no no no no…" He ran up the front steps and burst through the doors, making a beeline for Lassiter's office.

He was moving so quickly and his mind was so focused that he almost ran into Juliet when she suddenly appeared in front of him in the hallway.

"Shawn!" she exclaimed, a smile spreading over her face. Her beautiful golden hair was pulled back neatly in a bun, as usual. "You haven't been here all week! Where were you?"

"Uh…out of town. With my dad," Shawn blurted out desperately. He glanced over her shoulder - he could see Lassiter's office door from here. "Listen, Jules, I missed you too, but I've gotta talk to Lassie. It's kinda urgent, so…" He tried to get past her.

Juliet stopped him, however, and said, "Actually, he hasn't come in yet. I've tried calling him, but he won't pick up."

Shawn's eyes snapped back to hers. "He won't?" He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but he failed.

"No. I'm a little worried."

"Actually, that's what I came here to talk to you two about."

Shawn spun around to find Chief Vick standing behind him, a serious and slightly sympathetic look on her face. She looked at Shawn for a moment and allowed herself a brief smile. "Welcome back, Mr. Spencer."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm back," Shawn replied in an irritated tone. "What was that about Lassie?"

The concerned expression returned to the Chief's face, and she glanced around for a few moments before saying to them in a hushed tone, "Let's talk about this in my office."

Shawn and Juliet exchanged a confused look, but followed Vick into her office obediently, shutting the door behind them. They stood somewhat awkwardly in front of her desk for a few seconds, then sat down in a pair of chairs that she pointed out.

"What's going on, Chief?" Juliet asked, sounding almost as worried as Shawn was feeling.

"Yeah, where's Lassiter?" the fake psychic asked.

Chief Vick let out a long sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them they were glistening. "First of all, I'm telling you two this in person because I know that you were closer to him than anyone else at the station." She cleared her throat. "Detective Lassiter has…transferred. To the Sacramento Police Department."

Shawn couldn't breathe. Transferred? He was gone? This couldn't be happening. He looked at Juliet in the chair to his left - a look of pure shock and disbelief adorned her usually cheerful features, and her hands were gripping the armrests so tightly that her knuckles were white. It was then that he realized he was doing the same thing, and he forced himself to loosen his grip.

"He t-transferred?" Juliet asked in an almost-whisper, sounding as stunned as she looked. "Why?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential, O'Hara," Vick replied quietly. "But he did tell me to apologize to you for him. He didn't want to tell you he was leaving because he thought you might keep him from doing so." She paused, looking back and forth between the two of them. "I'm sorry."

"Wait, wait," Juliet said, practically ignoring the apology. "Does that mean I have to have another partner now?"

"You will be assigned one as soon as I have the resources to choose someone," Vick said. "For now, you're on your own."

Juliet responded to this by simply leaning back in her chair and staring at the far wall with a blank expression on her face. She didn't say another word.

Shawn, still reeling from this announcement, tried to think of any reason why Lassiter would transfer to Sacramento specifically. He didn't have family there, and there weren't any friends there that Shawn knew of. There was nothing there for him besides the police department, and it's not like the Sacramento Police Department was any better than the one in Santa Barbara. So why would he move almost seven hours away for almost nothing?

The realization hit him almost immediately. The detective had moved to Sacramento because it was seven hours away. Lassiter might seem very strong-willed and self-controlled to most of the people who knew him, but Shawn knew him like no one else did. He knew the detective was actually one to give into temptations and urges very easily. If he'd moved less that five hours away, he would've been tempted to come back to Santa Barbara, and he wouldn't let himself for fear of hurting Shawn again. It was all so clear now.

The fact that Shawn was the only one who could bring Lassiter back was also clear.

"I've got it," he said when he'd gotten his voice back. He jumped out of his chair and started quickly towards the door of the Chief's office.

He was stopped in his tracks by a stern, "Where do you think you're going, Mr. Spencer?"

Shawn whirled around to face Chief Vick, who was now standing behind her desk. "Sacramento," he replied evenly, firmly.

The Chief looked incredulous. "And why would you go there?"

"Because I can get him to come back." The confidence Shawn had was audible in his voice.

The look Juliet gave him was of pity. "Shawn, I know you miss him," she said softly. "I miss him, too. But if he wasn't happy here, then we have to let him go. Besides," she added, "if he didn't stay for me, then I don't think he'll listen to you. If he wants to be in Sacramento rather than here, then-"

"But it's not what he wants!" Shawn insisted, surprising everyone - including himself - with how loud his voice suddenly was. Toning it down a little, he said, "I know why he left, and I can tell you right now that it was the hardest decision he's ever had to make in his entire life. He left because he felt like he had to. He was perfectly happy here, but he knew that if he stayed…" His voice trailed off. "…if he stayed, he'd just be causing pain." He couldn't say to whom.

The two women looked confused. "What do you mean?" Juliet asked.

Shawn glanced back and forth between Vick and Juliet, wanting so much to tell them the truth about his and Lassiter's relationship. But he knew that wasn't what Lassiter wanted. "You'll just have to trust me," he said. "I think I'm the only one who can convince him-"

"I don't think so!" Vick shouted suddenly, cutting him off. She looked into the slightly startled Shawn's eyes. "When he left that transfer request form on my desk, I begged him not to go. I begged. But he didn't listen to me." She shifted her gaze briefly to Juliet. "He didn't even want to stay for O'Hara's sake, and she's his partner!" Now there was fury in her eyes. "What in the hell makes you think he'll just come back, as if nothing ever happened, for you?"

Shawn was getting pretty angry, as well, but he still hesitated. Should he tell them the truth? How would they react if he did?

He knew it was the only way they would understand, however, so he decided to just go with it.

"Because he loves me."

Ignoring the genuinely shocked expressions of the two women, Shawn turned back towards the door and hurried out, slamming it behind him. He ran down the hall and out of the station, practically jumping onto his bike when he was close enough to it. Shoving his helmet down onto his head, he revved the small engine a few times and set off.

He was going to get his Lassie back, and no one could keep him from doing it.

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Well, there you have it! The first chapter! There will probably be another one, and then an epilogue after that. I'm sooooooooo sorry for the delay, it's just that I've been super busy this week and didn't have time to put it up. Hope you like it! Reviews are loooove!