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II

Juliet and Anger

Juliet had never seen Shawn angry before and she doesn't ever want to see him that way again. Shawn was a little like a hurricane in everything he did: he came in and swept you up in his grasp, tossing you and turning you and completely upending your world. Usually it was a good thing, but Shawn's hurricane included anger.

When the gun had gone off, when Gus had slumped to the ground, his blood quickly staining the pink shirt, Juliet had seen Shawn snap. There was a look in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine. As a cop she was used to being scared, but this absolutely terrified her. Shawn had launched himself at the gunman without a single thought for his own safety, and Juliet had been so sure that Shawn would join Gus on the ground with a bullet lodged in his stomach.

But Shawn didn't go sprawling to the ground. He wrestled the gun from the gunman and sent it flying, and then his fist connected with the man's face and stomach and whatever other part of his body he could hit. He didn't say anything; he was quiet and Juliet had never known Shawn to be quiet. She heard screaming though, and it took her a moment to realize it was her, screaming at him to stop.

Lassiter had yelled at her to call a bus, then jumped and pulled Shawn off of the gunman. He had hadn't gone quietly, his fists still flying and his legs kicking with an intent to cause great harm. He got a lucky shot on Lassiter, hitting him squarely in eye, and didn't even stop, though he surely knew. Lassiter tackled him to the floor, pinning him down and bellowing at him to stop. Juliet remembered the look in his eyes. Shawn's eyes were normally friendly and excited, shining and brilliant. But they were flat and dark, dangerous. He wanted blood.

Sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, Juliet shivers and prays to God that Shawn will never have that look in his eyes again.