Title: Angsty Moments
Summary: Drabbles centered on Shawn and Henry's relationship.
Disclaimer: Psych does not belong to me.
Notes: This was written, a couple of years ago, as part of a one-per-episode drabble series (that's what the numbers in the titles refer to), centered around Shawn and Henry and positively *dripping* with angst. So apart from the dangers of these drabbles being based only on seasons 1-2, the brave reader must contend with lots of angst. LOTS. Beware.
(2) Doghouse
Build the doghouse.
Build the damn doghouse.
Just build the damn doghouse.
The mantra reverberates in his head with each pound of the hammer on the doghouse.
Yes, he was hurt last night. So what? He's broken plenty of bones, sprained plenty of joints, and fallen off more types of vehicles than most people ever set foot on. Yes, he isn't taking any of the painkillers. He can't think if he takes them, and thinking has always been a top priority for him.
Right now, he wonders why. Right now, all he wants to do is pound his mind to oblivion. Right now, he just wants peace.
His father will come home soon from his breakfast at Sammy's or Donny's or one of those casual breakfast places, and he'll start in on him about running away last night. About how he always leaves his work unfinished. That will be until he sees the knee brace. Then he'll begin grilling him about how he'd hurt it, trying to glean answers by provoking him. And Shawn, as much as he'll try not to give in to the anger bubbling just under the surface, will give in soon enough, telling him exactly how it had happened, half hoping that something will finally get through to his dad, finally make him understand the rage that had made him drive out onto a lonesome road in the middle of the night. But of course it won't. His dad will never understand.
And it's thoughts like these that are driving him insane. He stops, angrily shaking his head as if to shake his dad out of it, and sees that he has just nailed a plank where the door should be. He has completely messed up. Again.
There is a moment where he seriously contemplates throwing the hammer at the doghouse and kicking it down until it is no more. Only for a moment, he tries to imagine the feeling of catharsis that frenzy of passion might give him.
Then he wearily picks up the hammer again. Nothing would come of it. He would just have a broken doghouse that he would have to fix again. He takes out the misplaced plank, places it in what he hopes is the appropriate place, then starts pounding again.
Build the doghouse.
Just build the damn doghouse.
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