DISCLAIMER: The Princess does not own Psych or the characters, but she does own a laptop and internet connection.
I stared at the blank page and felt myself collapse.
When my cheek hit the cold floor, I knew what I had to do to make it alright again.
I took my cell phone from my pocket and dialed my favorite number to call.
"Hello?" came the strong voice I needed to hear.
"Lassie!" I shouted, faking happiness and playfulness.
"Hey Shawn," I heard the speaker phone button being pressed and the phone being dropped on the desk. I smiled and crawled into my bed and listened to Lassiter's pen scratch across the paper and him sometimes mumbling a curse word.
I put the phone on my pillow and hugged the pillow close to me, pretending it was Carlton himself. After about ten minutes, I was asleep.
I couldn't hear Carlton chuckle at my snoring, or him whisper to himself what I'd fantasized him saying ever since I met him.
"Love you, Shawn," he whispered, "Goodnight. See you tomorrow," he went to his bed, the phone propped up on his pillow, falling asleep to my annoying snoring.
~:.`~:.`~:.`~:.`~:.`+'.:~'.:~'.:~'.:~'.:~
It was routine now.
I call Carlton, he answers. We don't speak, just listen to each other breathing, writing, working…
We let each other fall asleep to our voices.
The next morning, I burst into the station and we act as if nothing happened.
Life goes on.
But… something's changing.
Last night, Carlton called me.
I answered, not knowing who it was. I didn't bother to disguise the lifelessness.
"Whaddya want," I asked halfheartedly.
"… Shawn?" (A/N SHAWN! HE WANTS SHAWN!) he asked nervously, taken aback by my voice. I froze. "Shawn, what's wrong? What happened?"
I felt betrayed. We had a silent agreement to not talk about ourselves.
"I- uh, I-" I felt the itchiness behind my nose, always a sure sign I was going to started sobbing.
It never lies.
Tears began coming, small sobs escaping me. The tears became baseball-sized and the sobs became more like a ripping noise.
Everything that had ever gone wrong was making itself known to me right here and right now.
"Shawn? Shawn, I'm coming over. Now!" I heard him banging around his house. I heard the engine of his car growl and start speeding my way. The whole way, he, completely out of his normal actions, I know, whispered stiff encouragements and tried to comfort me over the phone.
It only took him a few minutes to get to my house. See, he drove three times the speed limit.
A knock at the door echoed over the phone.
"Shawn? I can hear you in there! Open up! Shawn?" when I didn't answer him, I heard him sigh.
A crash and the door was open.
I lay on the floor, my cheek against the cold wood, just like every other night and day I spent here.
Lassiter rushed over to me and immediately picked me up in his arms.
He cradled me as I soaked him shirt and jacket with my tears. Half of which were caused by him.
"Shawn, don't cry," he said stiffly and awkwardly, in that uncomfortable voice that I adore. "I hate it when people cry."
When he said that, I tried as hard as I could to stop crying, but the more I tried to stop, the faster the tears came.
"Lassie… go away…" I whispered in between coughs, shoving his chest softly away from me. He chuckled, picking me up off the floor and carrying me to the couch.
"What do I have to do to make you realize that I'm not leaving you, ever?" he took his arm out from underneath my knees and lifted it to my face, wiping away my tears softly.
I looked up to him, feeling lost and sad.
His piercing blue eyes stared me back, and he began closing the distance between our faces.