Title: Saving Burton Guster
Rating: PG
Author: Obi the Kid
Summary: A desperate Shawn has to find a kidnapped Gus before it's too late. This story takes place at some point after the events of Season 5.
Note: It's hard to take such a hilarious show like Psych and make it mostly into an angst piece on paper, but this story idea came to me and wouldn't let go.
"Shawn, any sign of Gus?"
Cell phone pinned to his ear, Shawn Spencer, responded to his dad on the other end. His voice filled with frustration, anger and fear.
"No, he's not here, damn it! I was sure this was the place! I was certain…"
Henry Spencer knew the effort was futile, but tried to settle his son anyway, even from the distance that separated them at the moment.
"You need to calm down, Shawn. You're not thinking straight and this guy has you before every turn. You're too emotionally invested to be logical about you're doing."
"Emotionally invested? Dad, it's Gus."
"I know, son. And I know you're scared as hell right now. But he's leading you and you're allowing it. You can follow him Shawn, but you can't let him lead you. You need to use your emotions to your advantage. That's what this psycho is doing. He knows you'll go to the ends of the earth for Gus and he's using that. Take what you and Gus have and use it to your advantage."
"How, Dad? How do I do that when I can't even be sure that Gus is alive?"
"Read that last text again, the one from Gus' number. You said there were signs there you recognized that it was Gus' doing. But did you look deeper? Did you look for something between the lines? If Gus is the one who actually typed the message, no matter if he was being forced, there has to be something there. Gus wouldn't lose an opportunity like that to toss in even the smallest of clues. Read it again. And again. Try and work this thing as if Gus was with you. Focus on how he would react to you. What he would bounce back to you."
The younger Spencer nodded desperately, reaching up to wipe at his burning eyes. He knew his dad was right. He knew his dad was able to detach himself just enough from this case…a case that was like no other. Gus had gone missing almost two weeks ago. Random text messages had come to Shawn from his friend's phone, but Shawn had no way of knowing for absolute certain if they were from Gus or not. They seemed forced and different and never did they actually respond to what Shawn texted back, but Shawn went on the assumption that Gus was the one typing them. It was their only link to the madman that had taken him and despite Shawn and Henry receiving a truck load of help from the police - led by Juliette and Lassiter - they were still no closer to finding Burton Guster.
This most recent landing though, Shawn had been almost certain of, following clues that had accidental in nature. Looking back now however, it was obvious that Shawn was being led, just as Henry had expected.
Searching with his heart rather than his head, and getting him nowhere closer to finding his best friend.
So, when he disconnected from his call, he took a step back. A deep breath centered him and he pulled up the most recent text message from Gus' phone. He read it aloud, attending every word, every punctuation mark, and everything not being said.
"Come on, buddy, tell me something I didn't see before. Okay. 'Under the lights..…they come and go..by foot by train by bus…...but shawn goes wrong and rattlez on...it's much too late for gus.'"
He studied the message, over and over. There was something there, there had to be. And he found it exactly twenty-two minutes later. Ringing the phone back to his dad, Shawn rambled out what he'd found.
"Dots, Dad. Dots. Or periods. Whatever they are. Too many for Gus. Even with texting, he spells things out correctly and uses the right punctuation. I should have seen it before, how could I have been so stupid!"
"Shawn! You're babbling. What did you find?"
"The sentences in the text are spaced with periods, but a different number of them each time. The first there are 5, then 2, then 6, and 3. 5263, an address?"
"Could be, but where? Santa Barbara isn't the smallest of cities, Shawn."
"The first part, about lights and coming and going. A commuter lot maybe? And the way the word 'rattles' is spelled. With a z instead of an s. I know that means something."
Henry thought hard for a moment, pulling in all his years of police background. So many years of hunting and pecking for clues that never seemed to be there. This clue however was there and eventually he found it.
"I got it, Shawn. A Z is a sideways N, right? I think Gus is telling you the direction to look. North. So,
all we need do is find an address of 5263 in the north side of the city that's connected to a high traffic commuter area."
Gnawing his bottom lip as he listened to his dad, Shawn's inability at remaining patient was chewing hard. It was the sound of a familiar buzz that brought him back to focus.
Another text.
"Dad, hold on. Another text came through. Let me put you on speaker.
He did and read the text, only this time seeing everything and beyond.
"Okay, it says, 'Flying blind at night shawns all a fluster it's getting 2 late to save his guster.' No extra spaces this time, but he uses the number 2 instead of the word. That's not Gus. He always gives me a hard time about using numbers in place of words. And…blind at night means something, Dad. It's…flying blind…the zoo. That's it! That's the zoo with the blind eagles that Gus dragged me to last year! We went at night to watch how they fly and navigate in the dark without sight." Shawn paused to catch his breath and check his emotions. This was it. His last shot to save his best friend. He knew it and felt it. And this time, he was absolutely certain he knew where Gus was being held.
"Dad, I got it! The zoo! It's right next to the Greyhound bus and train station. This guy wants me to think he's at the zoo or the station, but Gus' clues, the number 2 and the sideways n say he's two, TWO, blocks north of that! There has to be an address there…5263."
"There is, Shawn. I just punched it up on my phone. It's a warehouse area on the other side of all that. The 5200 block. I'll call Lassiter, you go, but do NOT go in there until we arrive, you understand me? We don't know what traps might be set, or what we'll find when we get there."
"If Gus can text he's probably okay, right?"
"At the very least, he's conscious and aware. Beyond that, who knows? Meet you there Shawn and please, son, this could mean Gus' life, please just wait for us. I know how hard this will be for you to wait, but we've probably got one shot at this, we can't screw it up."
"Okay, Dad. I promise. Just…please hurry."
The desperate plea in his son's voice was heartbreaking and rare. Shawn wasn't emotionally attached to much, but tops on that list was Gus. Inseparable. Codependent. A number of adjectives could be used to describe their friendship. Best friends at least since the age of five. Gus was the only person that Shawn had maintained a stable relationship with in his entire life. Gus was the only person who was ever able to completely put up with Shawn without wanting to either throttle him or disown him.
And as Henry raced to meet his son at the warehouse area, he grew sick at the thought of what would happen to Shawn if he ever lost Gus.
Shawn arrived a block from the 5200 block, parking the Blueberry out of sight, but in a direction where he could see approaching cars. Eyes all around, he took in the location and it's surroundings as he impatiently waited for the others. His legs jumped as he tried to keep his rocking to a minimum.
Waiting was hard. Waiting was impossible. But it had to be done. Waiting could mean the difference between Gus coming out of this thing alive or dead.
His phone rang. He jumped, but as on it after one ring. "Dad?"
"Turning down the block now, Shawn. Lassiter and Juliette are just in front. Several unmarked are behind. Flash your lights."
The headlights on the tiny blue car sparkled once and then went dark. The next thing Shawn knew, he was being strapped with a Kevlar vest, given a flashlight and told to follow. For once he was glad to follow Lassiter, as it kept him from doing something stupid before they even got to the building. The head detective nodded to the building at the end of the block.
"5263. There at the end. No lights. No sign of a presence from the outside. Spencer, are you sure about this?"
"I'd bet my life on it, Lassie. I'm already betting Gus' life. This is the place."
"Okay. Stay close and in the shadows. When we enter, you follow either me or O'Hara if we split. If you see or sense anything, let us know immediately."
Shawn nodded and then did one of the toughest things he'd ever done in his life. He obediently followed and obeyed a position of authority.
Inside, the building was a collection of emptiness. A few old dusty office cabinets littered the walls of the main floor, but there was no sign of current life. The main floor was huge however and a trip in the wrong direction could mean Gus' life. Shawn swayed his flashlight from side to side, focusing on the cement tiles, searching for anything that could lead him to Gus.
There seemed to be nothing.
Nothing, until a mark on the flooring, between the main room and hallway, caught his gaze. Only, it wasn't a mark, but a piece of fiber.
"Jules, there. That thread in the hall. They went down the hall to the left."
Juliette O'Hara scrunched her face in confusion. "Shawn, it's a piece of fiber."
"No, it's a piece of thread from the scarf Gus had on the last time I saw him. He'd just opened a package from his mom. A late birthday gift. It was a blue scarf. She said it matched his car. Gus hated it, but he wore it anyway, at least for that day. For his mom."
Shaking her head, Juliette relented, having seen stranger things from Spencer in the past. She felt this time, it was right trust his judgment. "Okay, stay behind us, Shawn."
The careful walk down the dark hall was painfully slow and Henry, following behind Shawn, put a hand on his son's shoulder, trying to calm the tension of the moment. "Easy, Shawn. If he's here, we'll find him. Be patient a bit longer."
"I'm trying, Dad. I'm trying. You have no idea how hard this is."
"I do understand, Shawn, believe it or not. Any case dealing with someone close to you…"
Lassiter halted in his tracks, holding up a hand and signaling for immediate quiet. "O'Hara, do you hear that?"
"Sounds like a clock. A second hand."
"Exactly. Spencer, that very first text you got from this psycho, what did it say?"
Thinking back, Shawn latched onto the first message he'd gotten from Gus' phone, letting him know that his friend was in trouble. "It said, 'Nine is fine, the decade is later. Eleven comes for Guster and…well, just use your imagination.' 11pm. That's his end game. It's ten till."
"Move towards the clock, follow the sound. Spencer, you follow. Do NOT move ahead, you hear me?"
"No. The clock sound is a decoy. I remember something from another of Gus' texts. Something about one lift…that's one floor up. The clock is on this floor. Gus is on the second. Stairs have to be around here…"
"Spencer!"
"Lassie, I know this. Please just trust me one time. No games, man. This is Gus. He's on the second floor."
Carlton Lassiter relented quickly. Time was ticking away and he could see there was no joking in Spencer's words or actions. He wasn't used to this version of the guy, but he wasn't dull in not knowing the friendship between he and Guster. Though he'd never admit to it, he envied it at times, having one person in your life that would be there no matter what. Good and bad. Joy and pain.
He would trust Shawn in this. He had to.
They hurried their pace to the end of the hall and around the corner. Steep stairs waited their ascent. A rush of quiet as the line moved up and forward. The hallway greeting them when they landed on the second floor was lined with three doors on either side. But which one held Gus? The wrong decision was time wasted. They had five minutes.
Shawn again thought back to text messages. He'd replayed them all so many times in his head, now he was rolling over them one last time. A wave of words and letters and numbers and…there. 3R. Another random part of one of the messages that had come in. Shawn had never been able to put it to anything and chalked it up as a typo of sorts happening when one is forced to punch tiny keys on a phone with probably a gun pointed at their head. But now that 3R had a meaning. It had a purpose.
Another minute had passed when Shawn blurted, "Third door on the right!"
No one questioned it as they busted in the door and flooded the room. Piles of tarps and old clothes were strewn everywhere, but there was no human to be seen. Then Shawn immediately said, "Gus is here. We've got three minutes."
Henry yelled from the bathroom. "Shawn!"
Shawn flanked by Lassiter and Juliette hit the bathroom together just as Henry snipped the rope that was slowly lowering a live wire into a full tub of cold water. The older Spencer used the rope to move the wire a far away from the water as possible, securing it away from where it could cause immediate danger.
The group was then stung quiet by the sight of a bone-chilled Burton Guster, panic in his bruised and bloody face, bound helplessly in that tub. He'd been awaiting his death by electrocution, probably having given up any hope of rescue.
Shawn pushed to the front of the group and knelt by the tub. Carefully and quietly he put his hands on Gus' face, shutting out the others, but hearing his Dad calling for towels and an ambulance and something about hypothermia.
"Hey, buddy. I made it. Sorry it took me so long. I'm here now."
There was no verbal response from his friend, but Gus did manage to blink at him through the violent chills that racked his soaked body. His head swayed from side to side, unable to hold itself upright. Eventually, Shawn put a hand on either side and held his friend still.
"Dad, he needs a hospital. He…what that bastard did to him. Just…Dad…" Shawn's voice broke.
Henry was right there. No matter the problems the two had in the past, Henry knew he always would be there if ever needed.
"Help is on the way, son. You just hold his head. I'll untie his wrists and ankles and get the tub drained. One of the officers went for a towel from his cruiser. We'll see if we can get the soaked clothes off him."
"Dad…"
As much as he didn't want to lose control, Shawn was doing just that. After almost two weeks of desperate searches, false leads, fear and panic, Shawn was falling off that edge he'd been teetering on. And as they lifted Gus from the tub, stripped his wet clothes off, covered him with towels and jackets, Shawn pulled his best friend backwards into his lap, tilted his head forward into Gus' shoulder and let every last bit of control disappear.
They had time. Now, they had time.
The paramedics were several minutes out and still had to navigate up the precipitous stairs. The delay, in a way, was welcome. Shawn had nothing left. Physically and more so, emotionally, he was drained Sucked dry by the madman who had used Gus has a pawn in his sick little game.
A madman that was still out there, although that was a worry for later as Gus' body began rolling in vicious chills. He was floating again, in and out of consciousness. Reaching out a clumsy hand and flopping it around as it hit on something warm. Shawn's head. He'd just whacked his friend in the head several times, but when he tried to move it away, the action was stopped by another hand. Shawn had reached up and grabbed Gus ice-cold fingers and gripped them tight.
"Here, buddy. I'm here, and you know I'm not going anywhere."
Gus tried to open his eyes as he felt Shawn's shadow leaning over him. He tried to form words with his chattering teeth. Words never materialized, but Shawn could almost feel what he was going to say. Gus was cold. So very very cold.
Spencer held tighter. "I know you're cold, buddy. I know. Help is coming and you'll be warm, I promise. Too bad our accused polar bear friend isn't around right about now, huh? Now that would be warm!"
Managing to finally shiver out a few words, Gus felt a little less terrified with Shawn's humor attempt and he tried to meet it. "If…didn…eatus first…"
"Ah, come on, buddy, you know that bear is all about fish sandwiches and tartar sauce. How about we go visit him soon, huh? Maybe hitch up the trailer to the Blueberry and take him for a spin around town. Bring him back to the Psych office and watch a little Discovery Channel."
Gus coughed out a painful laugh, sputtering out the words "National Geographic" as he groped around, grabbing the front of Shawn's shirt and tried to lift himself forward.
The action hurt Shawn emotionally as much as it probably hurt the other physically. He pushed him back down. "No, no. Gus, just stay put. Only a few minutes more." Then Gus took that same uncoordinated hand and felt around his own neck. Shawn knew immediately what he was looking for. "No scarf, it's gone. Your mom will forgive you for misplacing it, I bet."
Parents! Shawn knew he forgot something. And at just that moment, Henry leaned in, one hand on Shawn's shoulder, "I'll make sure his parents know. I'll call them."
"I told them I'd call as soon as I knew anything, Dad. I should call now…"
"Son, I'll take care of it. You take care of him."
And he did. Shawn kept Gus close to him, willing even the tiniest ounces of warmth towards him until the paramedics arrived. A large heated pad was immediately draped over Gus' body, followed by double blankets, as he was strapped to the long board and carried down the stairs into the ambulance. Staying as close as possible, Shawn maintained a worried eye on his friend. He trusted the paramedics to take care of Gus, but he'd promised his partner that he'd stay with him. Salty lines trailed his face as he stood outside the ambulance as watching his closest friend in the world being loaded in and readied for the transport. Absently, he wiped at his eyes, but without much purpose. What was the point? Everyone here had seen him break down upstairs, but how much did he really matter? If Gus wasn't worth it, nothing was.
Grabbing his son in a hug, Henry held strong for long seconds the younger man offered no resistance.
"Go on, son. Stay with him. I'll call his folks and meet you at the hospital as soon as I can."
"Thanks."
And with that, Shawn climbed in and moved to his friend's side, taking his chilled hand in between his own and rode in verbal silence for the entire trip.
Shawn sat vigil at his best friend's side all night, even after Mr. and Mrs. Guster arrived. There was no way that Gus would be alone after so much of just that these last days. His parents could comfort him, but Shawn was there to see Gus at his worst – tied in the bath tub, seconds away from electrocution, freezing and scared. And alone. Never would Shawn forget the sight of finding Gus like that and if it didn't haunt his dreams for a time, he'd be surprised.
Lassiter and O'Hara strayed in around three am. Neither were shocked to see Shawn still pinned to Guster's side. Under the jokes and the silliness, this was Shawn's true color. The person they so rarely witnessed, but always knew to be present – at least when it came to Gus.
Juliette set a hand on Shawn's shoulder. He wasn't sleeping, but his head had been resting on his arms which were crossed and planted on the bed next to Gus. The touch brought him upright. He noticed quickly that Mr. and Mrs. Guster were gone. Their belongings still present, so they had only stepped out briefly. His eye next saw that Gus was sleeping soundly and breathing easily. Then he reacted to Juliette.
"Jules. Hi. You're here late, or early. I guess it depends on which way you look at it. Find anything?"
"Nothing specific, but a few small clues to work from. We think he's almost a Yin copycat, except using text messages instead of notes. We found Gus' phone. No prints other than Gus. Whoever this guy is, he is very careful at hiding himself."
"I'll find him. Once Gus is better…"
"No, Shawn. You need to let us handle this. I promise we'll keep you informed, but you can't make yourself a target."
"I don't have to. He can target me by going after the people I care about." The pair shared a knowing glance. "Be careful, Jules. Lassie, you'd better keep her safe."
Stepping forward, Lassiter watched the slow, monotonous rise and fall of Guster's chest. He saw the IV lines going here and there. He heard the constant chirp of the machine monitoring his heart and pulse rates. So many years on the Force, Lassiter was no fool. If indeed this madman could end up targeting Spencer's friends, then his own partner – that could be O'Hara in that hospital bed. But no, that would never happen. He'd not allow it. Of course, he never thought it would happen to someone like Guster either.
Softening his rough exterior, Lassiter patted Shawn briefly on the shoulder. "She's safe with me, Spencer. I swear it. And we will find this psycho that did this to Guster. I give you my word."
Shawn smiled a small grin. "That's good enough for me Lassie."
Back to the patient, Juliette said, "What have the doctors said about Gus?"
"Hypothermia mostly. A lot of bumps and bruises. One eye is just about swelled shut now. Nothing that he won't recover from physically. The warm IV's are helping bring his body temperature up. His mom is worried about him emotionally though."
"His mom?" Jules questioned gently and with a soft smile.
"Well, okay. Me. I guess you never know. Gus is tough though." Shawn caught himself before his voice broke and sucked in a deep breath. Eyes closed, he finished his thought. "And I'll be with him."
"You both will take good care of him, Shawn. I know you will. We should go. You should sleep, Shawn."
"No, not until he wakes up. I told him I'd be here when he woke up. I promised him. I can't go back on that, now can I?"
Wondering at her friend's showing of his vulnerable side, Juliette leaned down, kissed him on the cheek and held her head against his for a moment. "No, you can't go back on a promise like that, Shawn. I'll call you later. Keep us posted on Gus."
"I will."
A grunt turned his attention away from the departing detectives. Gus was uncomfortable. Either pain or bad dreams, Shawn couldn't tell just yet, so he took his friend's hand and held on until whatever it was passed and Gus rested quietly again.
A female voice from behind startled him. "You have a way, Shawn. Perhaps you're in the wrong line of work. Most nurses don't even have that type of touch." Gus' parents had watched from the door, waiting to make sure Gus could be settled without having to call in a doctor. It hadn't been necessary.
"Not into the whole stethoscope around the neck thing and those silly little sailor's hats that nurses have to wear – not a good look for me."
Winnie Guster smiled. "You know darn well that nurses stopped wearing those silly things a long time ago. How is he?"
"Quiet until just those few minutes. The police were here, so I think maybe he heard us talking. It's okay though. He'll be okay."
Shawn stared at his friend as he heard himself say those words. Not for the first time however did he have doubt in them. Mrs. Guster believed them though. Moms always knew their sons better than anyone. She pressed her hands down on Shawn's shoulders and rubbed gently.
"He will be. He's got the people who love him most with him. And those same people will be there as long as he needs them." Turning to her side, she held her hand out to her husband. Mr. Guster took the hand and the three of them held tight to their Gus.
"Shawn, you need to go home now."
The soft voice penetrated the half sleep that Spencer had slipped into, curled awkwardly into the hospital room's only chair.
"Gus?"
"No, it's your father. You've been here for almost three days without a break, other than to the vending machine or bathroom. I'm telling you to go home, clean up and rest."
Shawn straightened out the kinks, uncurled his body and sat up. "No can do, Dad. Gus hasn't woken up yet."
"And the doctors don't know when he will. Could be another couple days. His body suffered a great amount of stress. You can't stay here another couple hours let alone days."
"Can to and I will. I told him I'd be here when he woke up."
"I'm sure he'll forgive you."
"Gus? Probably, but I won't forgive me."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means, I should have found him sooner than I did. Part of this is my fault for letting my emotions lead me around like an idiot. You were right, Dad. As soon as I calmed down and started working the case like a case and not like it was my best friend's life on the line, I saw things that had been there all along. I should have done that sooner and Gus wouldn't have been tied in a bathtub of freezing water waiting for his last few seconds of life to be snuffed out. I wasn't the best at my job when I absolutely had to be. There's no excuse for that."
"There is an excuse and the excuse is that he's been your best friend since...forever. Of course you would let your emotions lead you. It's natural and if you hadn't allowed it, I would have seriously questioned your friendship. That's when others step in and help to point you in the right direction. This is not your fault, Shawn. None of it, so stop considering it. Now, get up, go home and rest."
"Doesn't matter. Even if I have blame for none of this, I'm still not leaving. He spent the last two weeks of his life scared out of his mind as a madman played games with his life. When he wakes up, Gus needs to see the people who care about him before anything else. There has to be some psychoanalytic theory about that type of thing, right? I'm here, Dad and I'm staying here."
Henry huffed under his breath, somewhat aggravated by his son's stance, but there was a surprising part of him that was proud of the young man as well. It seemed that Shawn was learning to grow up – at least when it mattered the most. And this…this was something that had challenged him in more ways than he knew. In the grand scheme of things, few things truly mattered to Shawn on a deeply emotional level. Henry could, at this consider himself on that short list, along with Shawn's mom, Maddy. Juliette. Possibly deep down, Detective Lassiter, but none of those names trumped Gus. Henry doubt any ever would. Was it unhealthy for someone
to be so connected to another person? Probably so. Certainly any shrink that might ever get a hold of Shawn to examine his relationships would think so. Henry though, he wasn't too sure that in this instance, that this particular codependent connection was a bad thing.
Shawn rarely had stability in his life. He rarely had constant. But he had Gus, and Gus was stability. Gus was constant. Gus kept Shawn grounded. Grounded in a completely foreign way mind you, but grounded all the same.
Shawn knew it. Gus knew it.
And so he stayed at his best friend's side for another two days until consciousness finally came.
As promised, Shawn was there.
"Welcome back, buddy."
Gus' tired eyes found Shawn's relieved smile, then roamed to further to find the welcomed faces of his parents.
Moving forward, Winnie Guster leaned over and rubbed her son's head and kissed his cheek. "We missed you, sweetie."
For a brief second, Gus thought about trying to speak, but thought better of it when his eyes refused to stay open. There was another kiss to the head and his mom whispered to him, "Don't you go wearing yourself out now, honey. We're here. Your father and I. Shawn. Rest all you need."
Comforted by his mother's presence and words, Gus let his eyes float back to Shawn for several blurry seconds. There was a firm grasp of his hand. A promise kept.
"I'm here, Gus."
Lips twitching just enough to show the feeling of a smile, Gus held onto those words as he drifted off into oblivion once again.
Juliette strode over to Shawn's side. He was standing outside Chief Vick's office watching Gus give whatever information he could remember on the whole kidnapping, torture deal that was now several weeks past. After some time, he felt well enough to finally visit the police station and give a more detailed statement than he'd been able to provide once he'd woken from the aftermath of his ordeal.
Shawn stayed with him as much as possible during his recovery, understanding that his friend needed space, but also that he needed not to be alone. He hadn't followed into Vick's office, even though his protective side was screaming for him to go in. Gus needed to do this on his own and Shawn needed to allow him. So he stood on the outside looking in.
"How is he?"
"Hey, Jules. Better every day, but still working through some issues. We're starting a new case tomorrow. Simple and easy from the looks of it. Just what he needs to get back in the game."
"And you?"
"Me? Please. I'm fine as wine, Jules."
"Wine, huh? Yeah, maybe the gas station store variety. Seriously, Shawn. Are you all right?"
Taking a deep breath, Shawn looked over at Juliette, then back to Gus. He could keep up the charade with her about his psychic ability, but if their relationship was going to continue, honesty would have to come in other places. Such as here and now.
"Honestly, Jules? I'm scared as hell that this guy, this Yin wannabe is still out there and may still be hunting Gus or you or my mom or…whoever else he can find that means something to me."
"We've got all eyes out, Shawn. Everything we can do, we are doing."
"I said the same thing when I first started looking for Gus. I was lying to myself. This man – this psycho – I won't let him hurt Gus again. I won't."
With Gus saying goodbye to the Chief, Shawn walked away from Juliette and to the door to meet him.
"How'd it go, buddy?"
"I think I remembered more than I thought I remembered when I first thought about remembering it."
"Yeah, you go with that theory. It won't confuse anyone."
"You know what I mean, Shawn."
"I do." An arm tossed around Gus' shoulder. "And because only can I understand what you just said, I will let you treat me to lunch."
"How is that fair?"
They walked down the corridor towards the station's front exit.
"It's not. How about you treat me and my dad to lunch?"
"Shawn!"
"Me and the polar bear?"
"I will smack you."
"How about we hop in the Blueberry, grab a couple orders of Fries Quatro Queso Dos Fritos, drive to wherever, kick our feet up and do absolutely nothing the rest of the day?"
"For once, Shawn, you are not out of your damn mind."
Shawn grinned as he grabbed the keys from Gus and they climbed into the car.
"Hey, Shawn?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Thank you."
Gus didn't need say more. Shawn didn't need to hear more.
"Fries Quatro Queso Dos Fritos await, Gus." Shawn started the car. "Prepare for well-deserved indigestion of the finest magnitude!"
"You know that's right!"
And the tiny blue car sped off into the distance.
The End
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