A/N: I remember reading spoilers for this episode and being excited about the whole Shawn getting poisoned thing. And then I was so disappointed when the show made it out to be nothing big. So here's the way I think it should have happened. A lot more hurt and comfort.
Though Shawn had started to feel slightly off shortly after Eugenia and Jillian had left, he'd written it off as mere indigestion from the pizza. But as the night went on the ache in his gut was getting harder to ignore and it was becoming more and more obvious to him that this wasn't normal heartburn. He really hoped it wasn't food poisoning. The last time he'd gotten food poisoning, he'd spent what felt like two whole days puking his guts out in his childhood house. Sure, his dad had been there for him, bringing him water and soup until he was better. But then he wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't his dad's poorly-cooked meat that had poisoned him in the first place.
A sharp twinge of pain ripped him from his reverie and he winced slightly, clutching at his stomach. Sure felt like food poisoning. "Ugh I don't feel right," he told Gus, pulling in a sharp breath. "I hate to say this but I think we may have gotten some bad pineapple on that pizza. Hows your stomach?"
"I'm fine," Gus said simply.
"Really?" Shawn asked in surprise, for a brief moment hopeful that maybe this was just indigestion. But then another sharp pain caused his stomach to clench, dashing those hopes. He flashed back to the events of the night, trying to determine the cause of his pain. "Maybe it wasn't pineapple," he began, not liking the conclusion he had drawn. "Maybe somebody got to my wine at the restaurant."
Gus didn't answer, but Shawn knew he was listening more seriously now.
A particularly painful cramp hit his stomach and Shawn bent over, crying out. "Aghh. Gus I see a bright light. I think I should go towards it."
"Okay stop playing, Shawn," Gus said in all seriousness, still hoping this was another one of Shawn's charades.
"I'm going. Take care of my Great Dane Lothar."
"You don't have a Great Dane, Shawn." Gus hadn't moved, choosing to believe his best friend was joking.
"Get a Great Dane. Name him Lothar." The words may have been ridiculous, but the tightness and pain in Shawn's voice were evident and Gus took a step forward.
"Ok what are you talking about?"
"I was poisoned buddy. I'm sure of it," Shawn looked up at Gus as he continued to clutch his stomach, his eyes conveying the seriousness of the situation. "But I know who killed me. Remember," he said, holding up a finger and struggling to stay conscious. "It was Prescott who killed me." Shawn released the desk he was holding onto and toppled to the floor in a heap. Gus rushed to his friend, still hoping somehow that this was all a prank.
"Shawn!" he shouted when Shawn didn't immediately get up. "Come on, buddy. Joke's over. You got me." He shook Shawn's shoulders, slightly relieved when Shawn opened his eyes, mere cracks squinting back at him. Shawn held his gaze for a second before groaning again and squeezing his eyes closed. "Oh my God," Gus murmured, grabbing the cordless phone from the desk and quickly dialing 911, his hand on his best friend's shoulder, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. "Don't worry, Shawn," he said, even though he didn't think Shawn was even conscious. "You're gonna be fine."
Juliet had been driving home from work when she noticed the lights still on in the psych office. It wasn't unusual for the boys to be there late, especially tonight with their double "date." Juliet felt the urge to stop by and talk to them about the case. She wasn't sure anymore if Jillian was guilty and she wanted to know what they had on Prescott. She turned into the parking lot, pulling up next to Gus's blue Echo.
As she approached the office, she heard Gus talking frantically to someone but she couldn't hear Shawn's voice. Something's not right, she thought, her hand going to the gun at her side as her detective instincts kicked in. "Gus!" she called out, rapping on the door. Gus opened it quickly when he recognized her voice, and the look on his face told Juliet she had been right about her instincts.
"What's wrong?" she asked urgently. But before Gus had the chance to respond, Shawn groaned from his place on the ground, curling into a fetal position. Juliet and Gus hurried to their friend, kneeling by his side. "Shawn?" Juliet asked, placing a hand on his chest to try and calm him down.
"J...u..les?" he murmured, opening his eyes again.
Juliet shot Gus a questioning glance. "We thinks he's been poisoned," Gus explained. "Ambulance is on its way."
"Poisoned?" Juliet repeated, stunned. "Are you sure?"
"Pos...i...tive," Shawn bit out, the last syllable ending on a groan as the pain in his stomach intensified.
"Shh," Juliet soothed, placing a hand on his forehead. "You're gonna be okay Shawn."
"Could you sit with him Juliet? I need to call Mr. Spencer."
"Of course," Juliet nodded, nudging herself closer to Shawn and continuing her soothing mantra.
Gus quickly got up, grabbing the phone to call Henry.
"Who'd you piss off this time, Shawn?" Juliet asked lightly, though her voice was on the edge of breaking.
"Think it was Prescott," Shawn choked out. He broke off into a coughing fit then and Juliet moved to his side to help him sit up. She noticed his face was taking on a greenish tint and he was swallowing hard.
"You feeling sick to your stomach?" she asked him gently, already rising to her feet. Shawn nodded before realizing that was a big mistake as the entire room seemed to spin. "Okay let's get you to the bathroom," she told him, supporting his side as he struggled to stand.
They stumbled into the bathroom and Shawn quickly knelt in front of the toilet, gulping heavily as the nausea intensified. Juliet perched behind him, gently rubbing his back as he tried not to be sick. "Don't fight it, Shawn. You need to get the poison out."
Shawn didn't have time to answer her. He gagged once more before heaving violently into the toilet, the Hawaiian pizza tasting much worse the second time around. He barely had time to gasp for air before the second round hit. Juliet's soft hand on his back was the only thing keeping him grounded.
After what seemed like hours, Shawn's stomach calmed and he slumped back against Juliet, too tired to hold himself up anymore. Juliet slid out from behind him, helping him lean against the wall as she wet a wash cloth and used it to wipe his face clean. "Where the hell is the ambulance?" she muttered quietly as she took in the state of her friend, hoping he would hold on.
Henry Spencer had been predictably annoyed to get a phone call from the psych office at 11 PM. But when he heard Gus's worried voice and the situation with his son, all thoughts of sleep were immediately vanquished.
"You think he was poisoned?" Henry asked, almost angrily. "Dammit kid," he whispered, more to himself than to Gus. "I told you to stay away from Prescott. You two are at the psych office?" Henry asked, preparing to speed over there.
"Yeah, but I already called for an ambulance. You should meet us at Santa Barbara General."
"Right, of course," Henry agreed. "How's he doing, Gus?"
"Not good," Gus said meekly. "He was in a lot of pain. I just hope the ambulance gets here soon."
"Can you get him to vomit the poison?" Henry asked, trying to think of any ways they could increase his son's chances of survival.
Gus looked towards the bathroom where he could hear Juliet soothing Shawn as he threw up. "Juliet's in the bathroom with him now," Gus explained, "it sounds like he's been throwing up for the last few minutes."
"Okay, that's good," Henry told him. "I'm going to head to the hospital now. Call me if he gets worse."
"Of course," Gus agreed. He hung up the phone and hurried to the bathroom to help Juliet. He looked worriedly at the detective when he reached the door.
"He okay?"
Juliet shook her head sadly. "He's really sick, Gus. He's going downhill fast." Both their attentions shot back to Shawn as he started coughing raggedly, his body spasming with the force of the coughs. Juliet knelt by him again, helping him lean forward. Gus grabbed a glass of water from the sink. When Shawn had finally calmed down, Gus held out the water, helping him to take a sip before taking it away. Gus stared in shock at the tinge of red that lined the glass where Shawn had put his mouth.
"Juliet," Gus whispered, showing her the glass.
"Gus?" Shawn mumbled, his voice raspy. "S' wrong?" Shawn's breaths were coming in shallow wheezes. One more symptom to add to the rapidly-growing list.
"Just breathe, Shawn." Juliet encouraged, her eyes flicking worriedly to Gus's. Shawn tried his best to comply, but the only thing he seemed capable of was pulling in harsh, whistling breaths.
"Dammit," Gus murmured as Shawn started to lilt. Juliet caught him as he slid down the wall, slowing his descent and resting his head in her lap.
"Where the hell are those paramedics?" Juliet growled, as Shawn's lips started to take on a blueish tinge.
"I think I hear something," Gus said, listening for the faint sound of sirens he hoped he hadn't just imagined. He heard it again and jumped up. "I'm going to go make sure they find us." He gave Shawn's leg a shake before darting out of the room, rushing to get the help Shawn desperately needed.
The paramedics got to work quickly once they took in Shawn's state. By the time Gus had ushered them into the bathroom where Shawn still lay, head cradled in Juliet's lap, Shawn's breaths had almost completely decreased. Juliet was frantic as the paramedics pulled him from her, tears spilling down her face. She felt Gus's hand on her back. "He's going to be fine, Jules."
Juliet choked out a half-laugh, half-cry at the nickname that Shawn always used, but she nodded anyway. Still, it was hard to believe everything would be okay when Shawn was lying there so still, a mask over his face feeding him the oxygen he so desperately needed. "He has to be," she whispered.
continue? let me know what you think!