Chapter 4: Reliving the Nightmare

This is a flashback (in Italics) to what happened when Shawn was held captive. It is a little graphic.

Shawn tried to remember where he was before opening his eyes. The pounding in his head was intense. He went to move his hand to rub his eyes and realized that he couldn't move his hands because they were bound together and above his head. His eyes flew up in panic. The memory of guys attacking him outside his apartment came back to him. "Oh crap," he whispered. He scoped out the room. It appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. The room he was in was small, like an upstairs office. The rope his hands were tied with was thrown over a hook so that his feet just barely touched the floor and his ankles were bound to the pole as well. The pain from the pulling on his shoulders was beginning to increase. He laughed to himself. "Maybe I'll gain a few more inches." He heard footsteps on the stairs coming closer to the room. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to panic.He opened them to view his captors.

"Look who's awake, boys, Santa Barbara's own psychic wonder," Lyle said smiling.

Shawn smiled at him. "Ah, to be greeted by Santa Barbara's own village idiot is such an honor." The other two gang members in the room chuckled at the comment.

Lyle smiled. "You are pretty funny. I can see why your dad and buddy would be pretty broken up about you being missing."

"You won't be smiling when the whole police department comes in here and kicks your ass," Shawn said smugly.

Lyle got super close to Shawn. Lyle grabbed Shawn's chin. "You won't be laughing for long psychic man. Josh, let's show Mr. Spencer how we have a good time, shall we? Don't forget the brass knuckles. I want to see this pretty boy's face bruised up, should make for a depressing funeral. Think your daddy will be sad that his only boy is dead?" Shawn growled at him and pulled his chin from Lyle's grip. Shawn tried to head butt him again, but Lyle put his hand up and slammed Shawn's head back against the pole. Shawn saw stars.

"Have fun boys," Lyle said leaving the room. The twenty minutes that followed saw Shawn take vicious hits to the ribs, face, abdomen and legs. By the time the 'boys' were done, Shawn was groaning in pain, barely aware of anything. They left the unconscious man alone.

Some time later, Shawn rejoined the conscious world when he heard the door to the room open and slam shut. It was Lyle again. Shawn's vision was fuzzy, but he could see that Lyle looked panicked. He came toward Shawn, and Shawn flinched away. Lyle shoved a rag in Shawn's mouth. "This should shut you up. Don't want our visitors to know you're up here." Shawn stared at him then dropped his head in sheer exhaustion.

There was a pounding on the door and it opened again. "Lyle, its El Diablo. He wants to see you," a voice said. Shawn wasn't sure that he'd heard that voice before and was too tired to care.

"What? It's not the cops? What the hell?" The two were silent as they listened to a loud booming voice coming up the steps.

"Oh Lyle, where are you? I've heard that you've been a bad boy."

Lyle stood tall and opened the door to the upstairs office. The other kid in the room stood next to Shawn. Shawn opened his eyes and raised his head to see the newcomer.

"Mr. Martin, why are you here?"

"Lyle, did I ask you to make a spectacle of this gang?"

"No sir."

"So explain to me why this guy, police department consultant and the son of a retired cop, is tied up here and looks like you almost killed him. His father is going to be pissed. Did you intentionally try to cause me problems?"

Lyle tensed, "Sir, he was getting too close to us. This is to get them all to back off."

"You're telling me in order to get the police to back off, you're going to beat to death one of their friends. Are you an idiot?"

"Yes. I mean no sir."

Martin raised his pistol and pointed it straight at Lyle's head. "I think you were right the first time." BANG! The bullet hit Lyle right between the eyes. Shawn's eyes widened in fear as Lyle dropped to the ground. The other kid was dead before he could raise his weapon.

"This man is a cold-blooded killer," Shawn shivered at the thought. John walked straight over to him. He picked up Shawn's chin in his hand.

"You must be Spencer's kid, huh?" When Shawn didn't respond, he slapped the bruised cheek. Shawn's eyes closed in pain, but he nodded slowly. He felt the barrel of the gun on his forehead and he opened his eyes to look at Martin.

"It is so tempting to blow your brains out right now for all the problems that your dad has caused me." Shawn watched as Martin squeezed harder on the trigger.

"NOOOOO!!!" Shawn sat bolt up straight and then cried out in pain. His ribs protested the abuse and he fell sideways on the bed. He was trying hard to breathe through the pain. He felt two hands on his shoulders and someone gently talking to him. He tried to focus on the voice.

"Hey, easy kiddo. It was just a dream. It's over now. You're in the hospital." It was his dad.

"Dad?" Shawn asked, as he turned his head.

"Yeah. Are you trying to hurt yourself?" Henry asked jokingly. Henry frowned when Shawn didn't smile at him.

"I was just joking Shawn. Hey, look at me. Are you all right?" Shawn made eye contact, with a strange expression on his face.

"Yes. Um, can I get a drink?"
"Oh, sure," Henry said as he poured a glass of water for Shawn. The nurses had left some straws for him, because they knew his mouth would be sore. Henry used the hospital bed's controls to move the bed so Shawn was sitting up a little more. The doctor had him sitting up because it was easier on his ribs. Suddenly Shawn paled; Henry almost dropped the glass of water. He quickly placed it on a nearby table.

"What's wrong? Shawn?"

"Sick. Gonna be sick." Henry quickly grabbed the basin from behind the bed. He realized that he moved the bed too fast. The doctor said Shawn's concussion was pretty bad and the motion must have made him nauseous. Luckily Shawn didn't have too much in his stomach to throw up. Henry could tell that the small action had really abused Shawn's broken ribs. Henry buzzed the nurse. She brought the doctor in so that they could examine Shawn. They gave him some more pain medication and left the pair alone. Gus entered the room during the exam after returning from eating. Shawn looked like he was fighting hard to stay awake.

"Hey buddy," Gus said to Shawn, "How are you feeling?" Shawn looked at him for a minute.

"Tired. You're okay, right?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. You're the one that seems to like to make people mad." Gus chuckled, but was surprised when Shawn just nodded and yawned.

"Hey, get some sleep," Henry told him, gently patting his arm. Shawn's eyes drifted closed. Henry looked down at his watch. It was close to midnight, Sunday morning. He knew it would be a while before Shawn was awake again. It gave him some time to plot his next moves.