Chapter 7 is here! I am going to warn you though. It gets a little "intimately" intense, if you know what I mean.
"Detective, if you would, please… Stop pacing!"
Lassiter glared. "You can tell me to stop pacing after your Soul Mate goes into a damn coma and you have no idea why!"
Lassiter continued pacing. He called this damn woman for help, not to sit around waving her hands over Shawn's body for thirty goddamn minutes!
Hera rubbed at her temples tiredly. "Detective Lassiter, I know this is stressful, but please. Give me five more minutes and I will be able to tell you what is wrong with him." She looked at Lassiter, noting the lost expression on his face. The man simply looked terrible. His tie had been taken off. Some of the buttons on his shirt were missing. Said shirt was untucked from his pants and his sleeves were rolled up haphazardly. She walked over to him and took his hand in hers, a symbol of sympathy in the Gypsy community. "He may be your Soul Mate, but he's my student too. I'm worried as well."
Lassiter sighed and fell drained onto the chair in the corner of his room. Running his hand through his hair, he said, "I know." With barely a whisper, "I'm sorry."
Hera smiled sadly. "Call the station. I'm sure your boss would like to know you're taking the day off, Detective."
Lassiter nodded, noting that he had forgotten to call. He was so frantic when he called Hera that work had just left his mind.
"Hera!" Lassiter screamed through the phone. "Thank God."
Picking up on his frantic tone, she asked quickly, "What's wrong?"
"Shawn… It's Shawn! He – he… I can't…"
She could hear that the normally stoic man was near tears through the general static of the phone. "I'll be there soon." She said simply. She hung up not long after that.
Again Lassiter picked up his phone, this time dialing the Chief's number. "This is Chief Karen Vick with the SBPD."
"Chief, this is Detective Lassiter."
There was a pause, then, "Were you planning on calling later, Detective? Because by then I would've sent a search party looking for my normally prompt Head Detective."
Lassiter sighed. "I'm sorry, Ka-Chief. Something serious came up and work slipped my mind."
The Chief did not miss the slip. "Is everything alright, Carlton?"
Lassiter looked at Shawn lying unconscious on his bed. "I honestly don't know, Karen, but I really hope it will be." Lassiter felt more than saw Hera get up and start walking towards him. "I have to go, but I'm not sure how long I will be out from work."
"Take as long as you need to. You've earned the days off." She said. "And Carlton?"
"Hmm?" He said in confirmation.
"Will Mr. Spencer be out with you as well?"
Lassiter nodded but when no response was given, he remembered he was on the phone. "Yes, Chief. He might be out longer than me. I'm not sure."
"Alright, Detective." She sighed. "Whatever happened to him, find out, will you?"
Lassiter's lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile he had all day. "I will." He then hung up to face Hera. "Have you found out what happened?" He asked without missing a beat.
Her face was almost ashen. This did not bode well for Lassiter or Shawn. "Yes, but I have to say it's very serious. I'm sincerely thankful you called when you did. Any longer and we might have lost him."
Lassiter's face changed to match Hera's ashen one. "What happened? What's wrong?"
"You'll need to sit down for this one." She said. They both sat on Lassiter's couch in front of the T.V. Lassiter wished that he was sitting on this couch with Hera for different reasons. He imagined briefly what it would be like if he and Shawn were sitting together, watching T.V. and sharing ghost stories. He was sure Shawn and Hera's stories would be a little creepier, as they both could actually see ghosts, but it would be nice. It would be better than this. Lassiter thought. He sighed. I don't think I'll be able to stay here again when Shawn wakes up. Lassiter forced himself to think that Shawn will wake up. To him, the alternative was unfathomable.
Hera's voice woke him from his thoughts. "To explain the situation, I'll have to explain a bit of gypsy 'biology,' for lack of a better term.
As you know, gypsies gain their abilities from Fate, or as the Powerless like to call Them, the Powers That Be. However, for this to happen, Fate had to put gypsies on the two planes of existence in this world. There is the plane of the living, as you exist. There is also the plane of the dead, or the afterlife as it is commonly known. It is where spirits go if they have unfinished business and are unable to move to the next world. Existence in both of these planes allows the gypsy to see and be seen by those on both planes."
"What is the next world?" Lassiter asked.
"Some call it heaven and hell, some call it the Summerland and the Winterland. There's even the idea of immediate reincarnation. Whatever way you decide to believe no one, not even the gypsies, know what happens after existence in the dead plane.
"Shawn's consciousness seems to have slowly started to slip into the dead plane."
Lassiter's eyes widened. "He's dying?"
Hera nodded, but quickly added, "Yes, but not in the normal sense of the word. People get closer to dying every day. Such is the way of the world. However, when people die, their mind and soul slip permanently into the dead plane slip simultaneously. This is why people who are dying see ghosts. They are slowly coming to exist in the dead plane, but they still exist in the living plane. How this applies to Shawn is by this fact: he has been pulled too far into the dead plane."
"How does that happen?"
"He probably used too much of his powers at one time." She narrowed her eyes in thought. "Has he been getting nose bleeds?"
At first, Lassiter was going to say no, but then he remembered at the station during his vision yesterday. "Oh God…" Lassiter mumbled.
Hera grasped his hand again. "Don't worry about it. You had no way of knowing."
Lassiter nodded, then asked, "Is Shawn too far in the dead plane to be…" He trailed off, not wanting to ask whether his Soul Mate could be saved.
"Here is the confusing part. I was able to save Shawn."
"How is that confusing? Why isn't he waking up?"
"Because I stopped his aging process."
Lassiter's eyes widened in pure shock and curiosity. "What? Gypsies can do that?"
"Yes. Theoretically we could do it for everyone." She held up her hand to silence Lassiter's next statement. "We don't do that, as you so obviously know. There's too high a cost.
"You see, like I said when a person dies, the mind and soul go to either the dead plane or the afterlife. However, when the aging process is stopped, either the mind or the soul goes. Usually a person gets a choice. However, Shawn's mind was starting to fade. I stopped his aging process before his soul started fading, but it caused his mind to completely fade over to the dead plane. Shawn is here, but his mind is gone. The soul is unable to exist without the mind."
"Then why would people choose to become ageless if one cannot exist without the other?"
"I never said that. The soul is unable to exist without the mind, but the mind can exist without the soul. The mind gives us our functions. Our soul is, in the most basic form, our emotions. We can function without emotions, though we would be cold, heartless beings driven by logic."
"So Shawn's mind is in the dead plane, but his soul is here?"
"Correct." She said.
"Well then, how do we get him back?"
Hera sighed. "I will be unable to get him. You'll have to go, Detective."
"What? Why can't you help me? I can't even see the dead plane, let alone find Shawn! How am I supposed to find his mind when I can't even see it? What does a mind even look like?" Lassiter was just frustrated now. He felt so helpless. He had no abilities. This is why I wonder why Shawn stays with me. He's so much greater than me.
"Simple, Detective. You are his Soul Mate."
Lassiter thought about that. He, according to the gypsies, had access to know everything about Shawn. The detective remembered briefly the rare times he could sense Shawn's emotions. What was I thinking when that happened? He remembered vaguely a sincere need to protect, so he went with his gut. "How do I get into the dead plane?"
Hera smirked. "Sit down, Detective. This will not be pleasant."
Lassiter nodded, finding her warning particularly foreboding. "Alright, what should I do now?"
"Before we begin, I want you to know that when you come back with Shawn, don't be alarmed by what happens." She said, which only increased Lassiter's worry. "Close your eyes." Hera said. Lassiter complied. "Think of Shawn. Do not think of anything else and do not think of his emotional side. Let yourself think of how his thoughts are processed, even if you're not sure it's correct. Think of the thoughts themselves, not their emotional attachment or drive."
Lassiter opened his eyes. "I don't think this is really doing anything. How am I supposed…" The detective, just now taking in his surroundings, swore.
"Okay." He said to himself. "Maybe I was wrong."
Lassiter looked around, watching how this plane worked. It was almost like he was walking in a dream. Certain parts of his vision were blurred, but would come into focus if he stared right at the blurriness. Peripheral vision apparently doesn't exist in the dead plane. He thought.
Sighing, Lassiter walked around, going with his gut on how to find Shawn. "I'm supposed to think of his thoughts, but not his emotions? How does that even work?"
Then, Lassiter remembered something. Well, everything, pretty much. Shawn thinks in 1980s sitcoms and movies. He recalled. He's very analytical, if you take out the emotional stupidity. Lassiter laughed. The emotions that made Shawn would bring his own death. He was sure of it. I'll just have to keep him thinking as logically as I can get him to when I bring him back.
It seemed to Lassiter as if he had been wandering for hours through an empty plane when he finally saw something. I thought the dead plane was full of people? Lassiter thought. Then he mentally smacked himself. I can't see spirits. I'm not psychic and I'm not dead. The detective shivered at the thought of possibly seeing all of the dead that were probably standing right next to him. He was thankful he was not a psychic.
But then, if he could not see spirits, then who was he seeing? His hope flared as he thought of Shawn. "Shawn!" He called.
Turning, Shawn saw Lassiter. Eyes growing wide, he ran to the detective, proceeding to punch him in the face. "What the FUCK are you doing here?" Shawn shouted. "You'd better not have gotten yourself killed!"
Lassiter held his cheek in shock. Can I bruise while I'm here? He wondered. "I came to get you, you ungrateful psychic."
Shawn rolled his eyes. "You can't bring the dead back to life. They'd have to be not… dead…" Shawn thought about his current situation. "I'm not dead, am I?"
"No, you're not. Hera said you used too much of your abilities and, had I not called her, you would be."
Shawn blushed. Shawn took Lassiter's hand away from his face. "I'm sorry. I thought you went and did something stupid." He gingerly touched the forming bruise on his Soul Mate's face.
"If you were dead, I probably would have." Lassiter said honestly.
Shawn smiled sadly. "Then I'll just have to wait to die, won't I?"
Lassiter rolled his eyes. "You speak like death is nothing."
Shawn shrugged. "But that's exactly what it is." Lassiter glared, but Shawn went on explaining anyways. "Death and life are opposites, but both should be appreciated. We fear death and love life, though it should not be that way.
"Yes we need to fear death. If we didn't we wouldn't have any reason to strive for our goals in life. But we should also love death. If death and life are opposites, then death is peace as well.
"Life is where we strive to be better, strive for our goals. Life is, well, vitality and change and struggle and knowledge. We love life for these things. However, we fear life because it is limited. But if this is life, then death would be the time where we stand still, take a break, and appreciate who we are, or who we were. This is why we should appreciate death. This is also why we should fear death, for it is limitless. We ponder over who we were, but we can never go back. Whether you believe in reincarnation, eternal abyss, or heaven, we can never go back."
Lassiter thought about what Shawn was saying. He had been through so much in his life that he had no reason to love life, but he still did. "You're really strange, Spencer."
Shawn smirked, "If I'm so strange, then why are you with me?"
"Because I love that about you." He then kissed Shawn on the lips for about three seconds when he felt himself jolt with a gasp. He was back in his room. With a groan he opened his eyes, only to shut them again because of the sheer pain it caused him. His whole body was alight with agony. The pain he felt was unimaginable. Something was wrong, and he knew it had something to do with Shawn.
Forcing his eyes open, he looked over to the bed where Shawn was. He was not faring better. He seemed to be in just as much pain as he was. He stood up, his desire to protect overwhelming him, and lay next to Shawn. He wrapped his arms around Shawn's body and, to both their relief, the location where their bare skin touched was relieved of all pain. However, it was replaced with a primal desire that both had never felt.
It would be revealed later that the Soul Mate bond hadn't quite made it back to them when they both went from the dead plane to the living plane so quickly. The pain they felt was because the bond was technically ripped from them. The desire was a result of the untamed need to reform that bond, to allow it back when it caught up to them. Right now, it was as if Lassiter's power as the Dominant was challenged. He thought his Soul Mate would not want him because he was unable to protect his Submissive. To Shawn, he needed Lassiter to reclaim him, to make him his again.
Clothes were torn completely; the remains of the fabrics were thrown on the floor and over the bed. Lassiter positioned Shawn on his hands and knees and pinned his wrists to the bed, leaning over Shawn's back as he did so. Wasting no time in preparation, Lassiter entered Shawn, who screamed at the mixture of pain and pleasure.
The pace was unimaginable. It felt as if stopping was unnecessary and unfathomable until they both knew the bond was there again. Until then, their intimate connection could not be broken, would not be broken. As Lassiter switched to grip Shawn's hips in a vice-like grip, he thrust harder into Shawn, which made the smaller man scream louder.
Somewhere in this primitive embrace, Lassiter had switched to gripping Shawn's shoulders as a way to hold on to him, to pull him closer, if that were possible. Shawn was shouting and his breathing becoming more erratic than before. Lassiter felt Shawn's walls clench around him as he came with more of a scream than a moan. Lassiter thrust in a few more times before he gripped Shawn's wrists again, leaning over his body and, in a purely possessive gesture, bit into the flesh between the column of his neck and shoulder until blood filled his mouth. He filled Shawn, collapsing on top of him while swallowing the blood in his mouth. They lay like this for a while, connected as such, until Lassiter pulled out and turned Shawn to face him. He kissed him passionately and possessively, letting Shawn taste the mixture of his own blood and something that was purely Lassiter. Shawn returned the kiss eagerly. They were like this until Shawn passed out from lack of air.
Lassiter watched for a few seconds to make sure his Submissive was breathing again, watched as the mark he gave him was healing slowly, but still bleeding over the white and sheets and blue comforter, and slipped into unconsciousness with his Soul Mate and the word mine in his thoughts.
It was sometime during the night when Lassiter woke up. He felt content, as he could feel his Soul Mate next to him, breathing steadily and in the living plane. He felt that Shawn was safe again. He was here in Lassiter's arms where no one but he could touch him.
Then he remembered what had transpired last night, and he opened his eyes in horror at what he had done to Shawn.
He pulled far enough away from Shawn to take stock of what he had done to him. Dried blood covered the sheets as well as the two of them. He saw the clotted mess of a bite on his shoulder and there were bruises on his hips, shoulders, and wrists. The wrists seemed to be particularly dark, but the bite mark on his neck was probably the worst physical injury.
Injury. He had hurt Shawn. He promised Henry he would never hurt Shawn, but here he was, covered in bruises and his own blood. Then, a thought came across Lassiter's mind that had him rushing to the bathroom and throwing up whatever was in his stomach.
I raped him.
Shawn, waking up from hearing the sounds of vomiting, jumped up and ran to the bathroom connected to Lassiter's room. "Carlton!" Shawn cried, his voice hoarse from sleep. He ran to his Soul Mate, running soothing circles across his back. When it seemed he had stopped, Shawn asked, "Carlton, what's wrong? Are you okay? What happened?"
Lassiter got rid of the evidence of his sudden sickness and leaned against the tub, willing his stomach to calm down. Shawn seemed to be the only one who noticed his tears and the shaking of his body from silent sobs. "Carlton, please. Talk to me." Shawn was scared that something had happened to the detective. He had never really cried before. Not like this. Not in front of Shawn.
The only words that came from Lassiter confused Shawn for a while. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? For what…" Then Shawn took stock of himself and Lassiter. Slowly the events of last night came back to him in a rush of excitement. Shawn felt no pain in his bruises or the mark on his neck, only a tingle of a passionate memory when he thought about it all.
Then Shawn thought about what Lassiter could have thought when he woke up, seeing what he had done. "Carlton, I'm okay. You didn't do anything wrong."
Lassiter opened his eyes to look into the psychic's. "I didn't do anything? Look at yourself! You're covered in your own blood! I hurt you! Jesus Christ, I forced myself on you!"
Shawn's eyes went wide at this. Then they narrowed. "Yes, I'm covered in my own blood, but do you really think I would've let you bite me and bruise me if I didn't want you to?" Shawn was blushing, but this wasn't about hiding his embarrassment.
"You couldn't even say anything."
"Well, neither could you."
"I should've had more control."
Shawn rolled his eyes, stood up, and held out his hand to help Lassiter up, who took his hand gingerly as he noticed the bruise. This caused yet another eye roll. "Carlton Jacob Lassiter, you listen to me. You. Did. Not. Hurt. Me. I wanted this. I let you do this. Whether I was in control or not, I would have made you stop if I wanted you to. So, shut up and let it go. I will not have you upset over something you think you did when you didn't do anything."
Lassiter was eerily reminded of his police academy days. It did not matter that they were both naked in the confines of his bathroom. It was as if they were in public and he was the one showing himself while Shawn was completely clothed. "Yes sir."
Shawn had an apologetic expression on his face. "Come here and kiss me."
Lassiter complied, pulling Shawn close to him. He looked into his Soul Mate's eyes as if begging him for forgiveness. Silently, Shawn told him it was alright, that there was nothing to forgive. Lassiter gently took Shawn's wrists and kissed them both, causing Shawn to gasp. There was no pain, just sensitivity. Just the simple pressure of his lips caused the psychic's senses to ignite. Lassiter, noting the heated look in Shawn's eyes, curiously kissed the bruises on his shoulders, then knelt down to kiss both bruised hips. Even before he had reached his hips, Shawn was shaking with barely contained desire; the only visible show of it besides his shaking was the very obvious erection Shawn was sporting. Finally, Lassiter came back up and kissed the bite mark. Shawn made a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a moan, which Lassiter captured between his lips as he pulled Shawn into his arms.
"We should shower." Lassiter said when he pulled away to breathe.
Shawn groaned. He mumbled something, but Lassiter only heard the words, "Need you."
Lassiter smiled apologetically, but turned to start the shower. In seconds the water was hot and they both stepped in.
Shawn, thinking Lassiter just wanted to shower, shrugged and started washing himself. Though he was disappointed, Lassiter did have work tomorrow and he needed his rest and, well, Shawn needed it too. Shawn knew Hera would want to know he was alright (he assumed she was the one who helped Lassiter, as he and Hera were the only gypsies Lassiter knew personally) so he was going to tell her tomorrow. For that, he would like to be able to walk.
Lassiter, who knew both of them needed rest, was having a harder time reigning in his desire. He wanted Shawn, but he knew he had an obligation to be well-rested. He was a cop, after all. So they both did their best, and were doing pretty well until Shawn asked Lassiter to help him with his back. Lassiter complied, but somehow one thing led to another and Shawn was wrapped in Lassiter's arms again, the heated water seeming cold compared to the heat of their mingled bodies. "Carlton… Please… I want - ahh!" Shawn moaned as Lassiter gripped Shawn's quickly hardening member between his fingers, moving at a slow pace, teasing him.
As Shawn tried thrusting to increase the pace, Lassiter said before he processed, "Don't. Stand still."
Shawn, as the Submissive, recognized this as the Dominant's Command, and stopped moving. Lassiter let go, his eyes widening at his sudden usage of his Command over Shawn, who whined at the loss of contact but still didn't move, as he had not been released from the Command. "I release you." He said.
The detective was shocked, to say the least. He'd just taken some of Shawn's control away from him during an intimate moment, a place of shared passion. The thought of Shawn being hurt by that was unbearable.
Then Shawn, who could move again, smirked. "You should do that more often. Lassie in control is hot." Shawn's eyes, which were usually a light hazel, had darkened to a low-toned brown as he said this.
Lassiter didn't admit it often, but he had a kind of, dare he say it, kink for being in control. Shawn, whether knowing fully or not, had just put into reality his fantasy. The only thing he could get out coherently was, "Are you sure?"
"I'm all yours, Carlton." Shawn said. He normally liked to be in control but, as he told Lassiter before, it felt different with him. Shawn felt different with him. This was no different. He was almost unnaturally turned on by Lassiter's use of the Command over him. Who was he to deny his own pleasure (and Lassiter's, from the looks of it)?
So they joined again, Lassiter kissing Shawn with everything he had, letting his desire flood over him once more. "Carlton!" Shawn moaned when the larger man's hand was on him again. Shawn, who was reaching to return the favor, was stopped by Lassiter's words, "Keep your hands against the wall of the shower."
Shawn complied by walking back a bit, feeling a wave of desire shoot through him. With each Command, he felt increased amounts of pleasure. It was if he, Shawn the Gypsy, was feeling physical euphoria while he, Shawn the Submissive, felt the euphoria of being recognized by his Dominant.
It was still a bit of a pain, however, because he wanted to run his hands down his Dominant's body, but couldn't.
Lassiter was being such an extreme tease. He was moving agonizingly slow for Shawn's liking. He started to thrust, but of course he Commanded Shawn not to, which while it was frustrating, his pleasure overrode his frustration.
The larger man kept his pace slow until he stopped and said, "Turn around and keep your hands pressed against the walls." Shawn complied. "Spread your legs."
Shawn gasped as Lassiter's finger pressed inside him. He whimpered, but didn't move, as he hadn't been told he could move again. Lassiter stretched him slowly, too slow in his frustrated mind, but he let it go. He wanted this to last, no matter how frustrated he got. His thoughts were shattered into incoherency as Lassiter's fingers hooked just right. "Fuck!" He cried, shaking, but otherwise not moving.
Lassiter, purposely avoiding that spot, watched, torn between his desire for control and his desire to please as his Submissive begged for him while he was stretched. "Carlton! Please! Oh, fuck!"
"Do you think you're ready? Tell me."
"Holy Fate, I've been ready for a long time! Just fuck me already!"
Lassiter smirked. Becoming more confident, he said, "I'm not sure that's a good tone. I might keep this up a little longer. Tell me what you think about that."
"Carlton!" Shawn whined. "I need you! I want to come with you inside me. Please, fuck me!" And at that, Carlton removed his fingers from Shawn, only to replace it with his cock. "Ahh!" Shawn cried.
"Jesus, Shawn, you're so tight." Lassiter said. He held still for just a moment, barely giving Shawn time to adjust before he started moving, albeit agonizingly slowly.
Lassiter quickly found his prostate, hitting it with a slow force that dragged out a euphoric moan from Shawn. "Carlton!" Shawn cried repeatedly as Lassiter ever so slowly sped up his pace. Then, as if a timer went off, Lassiter slammed into him, setting a new, rapid pace that would have Shawn coming in mere seconds had Lassiter not made this one Command. "Don't come until I say you can."
The pace was set, and Shawn was in a state of pure bliss that he couldn't come down from until Lassiter said he could. He felt the pure pleasure of orgasm with every move Lassiter made, but he couldn't release, and therefore couldn't come down from his high. He was screaming Lassiter's name over and over at this point, but he quickly gave up in favor of just screaming. It was several minutes of this seemingly never-ending ecstasy until he heard Lassiter say, "I release you."
They both came at the same time. Lassiter barely caught Shawn in time as the psychic passed out. Lassiter lowered Shawn, not sure whether to laugh, be worried, or feel confidence at this. He decided on worry, as passing out was never normally good. "Shawn?"
The gypsy opened his eyes. "Holy shit, Lassie." He said. "We need to do that more often."
Lassiter blanched for a second, then proceeded to laugh. "You're right." He said. "We really need to do that more often, although preferably not in the shower if you're gonna pass out."
Shawn blushed, but still came back with, "Yeah, yeah Detective Snow Globe. Now help me up so we can rewash ourselves."
Lassiter ranted the rest of the shower on how a fear of snow globes was perfectly reasonable.
As they got out and got dressed in pajamas and bandaged bite marks (Lassiter insisted so there was no chance of infection), they walked out to go to bed. However, realizing the sheets needed to be thrown out, they changed them and crawled into bed. Well, Lassiter crawled into bed. Shawn decided to jump on him, lift his sleep shirt, and give him a raspberry. Lassiter refused to believe he screamed like a girl, but he screamed like a girl. Lassiter glared, which prompted Shawn to get up and run. Lassiter followed not long after that. They chased each other around for a while until they made it to Lassiter's island in the kitchen. Somehow Lassiter cornered Shawn. They were both gasping for air, both were smiling. To Lassiter, in this moment, it was perfect. Shawn was perfect. Before he knew it, Lassiter said, "I love you."
Shawn's eyes lit up with a happiness he had never known. Tears of pure joy formed as he said, "I love you too."
Those words to Lassiter meant everything. This was the moment Lassiter seriously wondered if he could ever let Shawn go. This was the moment Shawn wondered why he would ever want to leave. This was their moment of happiness.
This was the moment no one could take away from them.
I honestly loved writing this chapter. So many Shassie feels! But now, I must take stock of something. How many of my wonderful readers are in the Supernatural or Grimm Fandoms? Or maybe both? I'm just curious is all. And another question. What are your thoughts on MPreg stories? I love them, to be honest. I think they're super cute if written correctly!
