Title: Undeserved Love
Summary: When a man confesses to a murder he couldn't have committed, Shawn is called in to investigate. The case hits close to home bringing up painful memories for Shawn. When the case becomes too personal, Shawn finds himself kidnapped and held for ransom by a desperate criminal. Unable to talk himself out of this situation, it's up to Lassiter and the rest of the team to save him.
Pairing: Established Lassiter/Shawn, past OMC/Shawn
Warnings: Slash, mentions of abuse and violence, slightly graphic images
1995
Shawn Spencer thinks this might finally be it.
This isn't like the time he rode his bike off the roof, or the time he got run over by a car, or the time he ran away with Uncle Jack. Or even like the time he pushed his father too far and was certain the old man was going to murder him. He was lucky then, barely escaping fatal injury through quick wit and a healthy dose of dumb luck.
But he's cheated death far too many times in his life already to think his luck could last forever.
He never quite thought it would end like this, though. Shawn always imagined he would go down fighting while rescuing a damsel in distress. Being beaten and stabbed by one's ex-boyfriend was not quite the heroic death he envisioned.
Then again, he never thought Jon could do this to him, even despite everything that bastard had done.
He should have known better. He should have called for help when Jon snuck into his room, eyes wild and crazy like a man without sense or sanity. He should have fled when he had a chance, but Jon flashed the knife and he froze, unable to do anything, but watch.
Shawn wishes there was something more to it than that. Sometimes he even wishes that it was fear that glued his feet to the floor in that moment. But he knows all too well that it was love. It was misplaced, misguided, undeserved love that made him stay.
Despite the abuse, the terror, the restraining order, the physical pain, hospital visits, and the emotional agony of having his heart ripped out repeatedly, Shawn still loved him.
Jon hadn't always been this way. It really wasn't his fault that he was and Shawn tried over and over again to bring him back from the edge of destruction believing there was something to save.
But when he flashed that knife, Shawn knew there was no hope of ever going back. He knew his ex had finally broken, and yet he still didn't fight back, he still let this happen. The one time he didn't follow his father's advice, the one time he didn't listen to his instincts, and it was going to get him killed. As stupid as it was to try, he just…wanted to believe in Jon.
Look where that got him. That same knife was now in his shoulder and stuck in the floor quite effectively pinning him to the ground. He's tried and failed several times to pull the knife out and he's starting to realize how hopeless it really is.
He never could win against Jon.
Spencer men never give up, he can hear his father's voice commanding him. He wants to do something, he really does.
His voice embarrassingly refuses to be louder than a barely audible squeak, though, and even if he could yell for help, he doubted anyone could hear him. His mother won't be home for days and Henry is on duty for another four hours at least.
His left arm is completely numb and blood is beginning to pool beneath him. He can feel it soaking through his shirt and skin and running down his side and shoulder.
It's not the shoulder injury that worries him, but the heavily bleeding wound in his stomach. He's put as much pressure on it as he can with the one arm that still works properly, but it's not enough.
Shawn knows he will bleed to death long before his father finishes his shift. It's not a very comforting thought.
To know that his father will find his cold dead body lying in a puddle of blood on his own bedroom floor nauseates him to the point of anger. The sickening image fuels him on. He cannot die like this!
This will not be it for him.
For the moment, he abandons the stomach injury and makes his first priority getting the knife out. With a burst of adrenaline he forces his numb hands to grab the hilt of the knife. It hurts, more than he thought it would, and he nearly passes out from the pain. He is forced to take deep, calming breaths before his fading vision clears once more.
The hilt is slick with his own blood and his grip slips off the knife. With a frustrated huff he tries again, but his hands slip and the knife does not budge. His hands are shaking by this point and his grip is unsteady. Vaguely, he realizes that is not a good sign.
He doesn't have much time left before he passes out from blood loss.
His harsh pants and rapidly beating heart are the only sounds in the quiet room. He is shivering uncontrollably and he is so cold and tired that he thinks maybe he should just give up.
His breath hitches and for a second Shawn thinks he might start crying, but he doesn't because Spencer men do not cry. And they don't give up.
He takes a deep breath. It calms him down just enough to regain control. He can't give up. He just can't. Shawn tightens his grip on the knife and tugs. With his feet flat on the ground, he tries to use the strength in his legs to pull himself off the ground and dislodge the knife.
Once again, he fails. Once again, the knife does not budge.
His shoulder throbs in burning agony. Every nerve ending feels like they are on fire. The searing pain is beginning to sap what little strength he has left.
The killer part is, the knife wound in his stomach doesn't hurt at all. Shawn thinks that might be called irony, but he'd have to ask Gus to know for sure.
I'm never going to get to ask Gus, he suddenly thinks. That is the thought that finally sets free the tears in his eyes. Spencer men don't cry, but Shawn thinks even his father would be willing to grant him an exception this time.
His father…Shawn's never going to see him again either. He's never going to have the chance to live up to his father's expectations. He's never going to get the chance to make him proud.
He's never going to tell his mother goodbye. He's never going to be able to tell Gus just how much he means to him. He is never going to get the chance to move on.
His eyes slip shut as tears continue to trickle down his cheeks. A sob catches in his throat. The will to keep fighting slips away.
What does it matter anyway?
Shawn is finding it harder and harder to focus. He hears the soft 'thud' before he realizes his hands aren't on the knife anymore, but lying uselessly by his side.
He doesn't have the energy to pick them back up.
He doesn't remember why he is on the floor any longer, nor why there is a knife in his shoulder. A thick fog lingers in his mind and he's losing the will to care.
His sense of urgency flees him. Instead he drifts towards the darkness tugging him under.
The last thing he hears before unconsciousness claims him is someone barreling through his door and a panicked voice yelling his name.
"Shawn!"