Author Notes: What's up PsychOs? Remember the house Henry had in the Pilot? In this fic it's the same one. I'm in Galveston and it got me thinking. Was out on my balcony, freezing my butt off so I hope you like it...just stretching my writing muscles they've gotten a little stiff :)
Growing up in Santa Barbara had its advantages and disadvantages.
One advantage was having a full ocean view in your front or back yard.
You could go swimming nearly any time of the year.
Your sun tan was at its best.
There was an endless supply of sea food.
The board walk with all its tourist attractions had several things to do on a Friday night.
A big disadvantage was the sere cost to live there.
And on a cops salary no less...lets just say it made things very tight.
Shawn's mother took of when he was twelve, so any support from the psychiatrist's paycheck was unlikely at best.
The sun was scorching, the salt air destroyed your car and house, the breeze brought in by the ocean and night air cut right to your bones.
Sand got everywhere.
...meaning...everywhere.
And there was no getting it out.
Shawn and Henry lived in a small house on a hill, with the ocean and Palm trees splayed out behind it.
The trimming was chipped and faded, several pipes were busted with a leak in the roof.
They were still behind on a mortgage payment and their water had just gotten turned off.
Adding a struggling relationship to the mix made the walls very thin.
Ridiculously thin.
In fact, the fifteen year old had a hard time getting away from his father.
Asides the time he was at school or Henry was pulling an all nighter.
Their fights had been becoming more and more common.
Shawn threw a rock into the crashing waves and then shoved his hands in his pockets.
The wind tore at his winter parka even though it was the end of May.
He felt very alone.
Shawn was half way through high school and had never been anywhere outside of California.
He had dreams.
Real dreams, serious ones he hadn't even told his dad about.
Shawn looked up, a stubborn frown and glint in his eyes.
He wasn't going to put up with it any longer.
The second those test results had come in the mail...Shawn knew he couldn't be a cop.
He couldn't let Henry win.
This was his life-for once the teen was going to do with it what he pleased.
Leave Santa Barbara.
Tour Europe.
Back pack across America.
Better yet: on the back of a motorcycle.
His heart swelled at the very thought.
Dangerous or not: the desire for freedom was too strong to ignore.
He would travel and see something beyond the distant dark blue lining.
The red flickering light at the chiming pier.
See a species of bird besides a pelican or sea gull for a change.
Never look at the ocean again.
He could move to Miami, Texas or New York.
Whatever it took.
He would do it.
Fin.
