Thank you to Zombie Pirate, Bemyryder, Psycho4Life, Jen, and Is This Not Reality for collectively convincing me to make this sequel a reality!

If you have not read Just Hanging Around, you probably should first :D

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Shawn groaned. He was definitely having a horrible day.

First, Henry had gone out fishing for the day, conveniently forgetting that his son was barely able to make it to the bathroom and back on a better day.

Everyone could talk all they want about how bad torture is, but the recovery's the real pain.

Shawn wished that Gus could stop by, as he often had, to watch TV with Shawn and keep him company with jerk chicken and pineapple smoothies, but Gus had point-blank refused. "I have work today, Shawn," he'd said.

Shawn didn't dare call Jules. Ever since their talk in the hospital, Jules always managed to find an excuse of why she couldn't find time to stop by. Lassie had visited Shawn more times than Jules had! If that wasn't psycho, what was?

Sighing, Shawn mulled over his predicament. At this point, even awkward Lassie or bouncy McNab would be preferred to bed rest.

"It's not like I'm dying," Shawn complained, his throat hurting at the effort. But not as much as before.

And while Shawn was still recovering, he was a lot better than before. The tube had been removed from his patched-up lungs, and his ribs were protected with plaster. The world didn't spin quite as much when Shawn stood up, and even the gashes covering his back and legs were scabbed over and in the first stages of scarring.

Two weeks ago, Shawn had been in a coma in the hospital. It had only taken a week to recover before he was allowed out, and even then, staying at Henry's made the time pass much slower than it should.

Ignoring the pain in his throat, Shawn continued to mull over his situation. "Why did dad insist on keeping me at his house, when he escapes at the first chance he gets?"

Admittedly, it was kind of nice having his father hover around him. For the first time, their relationship was not strained. Apparently staying in a coma for a month did that to people.

Shawn just wished that he had company, and something other to do besides lay on his old bed in his old room and wish for company.

It wasn't really about company, either. Shawn just needed something—anything—to do. A case would be his top choice (after a movie marathon with Gus but before a romantic dinner with Jules), but that would be a slight problem given the weakness in his legs.

Physical therapy was something Shawn could do, but number one, he'd need an appointment—the next session being scheduled for next week—and number two, it made his legs hurt and Shawn did not need more pain in his life.

Maybe the news would give him something to have a "psychic" vision about. Then he could just call the station, and WHAM! The case would be his.

Unfortunately, getting to the TV would require going down the stairs, which Shawn had not done since first coming to his father's house.

Another minute laying in silence, and Shawn had made up his mind. To the TV!

Sitting up, Shawn waited before his headache subsided and the spots in his vision faded. His ribs ached, but he still managed to stand up with little to no effort. Shawn pathetically hobbled across the room, clinging on to the door handle to stay upright when he got to it.

When Shawn looked down at himself, he was suddenly very glad that no one was coming to the house. After all, who would see Shawn's old t-shirt and pineapple boxers and not judge him? Besides Jules, of course.

Also, now that he was thinking of it (and conveniently taking a rest, still clinging to the door), Shawn imagined that his hair must be a mess. Shawn normally had bedhead, but this bedhead was the criminal mastermind of all bedheads.

However, Shawn knew he was still luckier than most people. Henry, for example, had no hair at all! And Lassie, well all you'd need to do was take one look at Lassie and you'd understand.

Realizing that he was still pathetically hanging onto his door, Shawn straightened up and quickly hobbled over to the stairs.

Now came the real challenge.

Sliding down in a cardboard box was out of the question. He could, but it would be a waste unless he filmed it. Even then, Gus would insist on critiquing his style and posture. "I could do it much better," Gus would insist. And Shawn knew he could.

So instead, Shawn slowly sat down, clutching his side heavily, and took the steps one by one. Halfway down, Shawn was panting too heavily, so he took a moment to breathe. Now he was exponentially glad that no one was coming. If Shawn was so weak that he could barely get down the stairs…

After what seemed like forever, Shawn was sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling himself up on the railing, Shawn slowly hobbled into the living room.

He fell onto the couch.

Bad idea. Although falling had provided relief to his aching body, it had put pressure on his healing ribs and aggravated the cuts on his back.

Who would've guessed that Yang could do so much damage?

Ignoring the memories of her time with him, Shawn leaned over and grabbed the remote. Turning it on, he flicked past several channels before stopping on the news.

Lassie would be so annoyed when he heard Shawn's vision! Going downstairs was the right decision.

But it seemed that fate had a little more in store for Shawn.

As he watched the person on the screen talk, Shawn could only find two words to say.

"That's Gus."

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So, what did you think? PLEASE REVIEW!