Brittle Balance
Chapter 9: The Clone and the Scientist
Shawn blinked his eyes open wearily, careful not to gaze directly into the fluorescent light above his head. His body was still sore and stiff, and every pore in his skin ached. He didn't know what he looked like, but if he could endeavor a guess, every inch of him was probably painted like a canvas. True enough, a glance downward at his hand, lying limply by his side against the crisp white bed sheets, revealed it to be mottled with marks.
A weight settled heavily on Shawn's heart, an organ – sorry, muscle, as Gus would correct him – that was pumping away the last bits of his life. He could hear it now that he was more awake; he heard the hollow thump reverberate inside his chest as much as the high-pitched beeping from the machinery on his left.
A quick look around the room proved it to be empty, not that he truly expected anything different. How long had he been asleep? An hour? It barely felt like twenty minutes.
Hang on…
Shawn narrowed his eyes at the clock on the wall across the room. He distinctly remembered the others leaving at 4:34. It was only 5:06.
Why didn't he sleep for longer? What woke me up?
There was a shuffling against the tile floor on the opposite side of the privacy curtain. A shadow crept up slowly, growing larger with every passing second. The tips of shoes appeared just underneath the sheet. Shawn started, flinching at the pain vibrating in his body from his nerves jumping in surprise.
There was a pause, long enough to cause a sweat. The beeping on the monitor next to him increased in speed; his breathing became almost sporadic. It was nearly a full minute before Shawn finally built up enough moisture in his dry mouth to speak.
"Who's there?"
The curtain pulled back then, revealing the face of a very unsuspecting man. He was tall, or maybe he just looked that way from Shawn's lower perspective in the bed. A white coat, much like the ones worn by the hospital doctors, hung off his thin frame. His face was old and lined, bags under his eyes proving sleepless nights and creases in his forehead and cheeks. Spoon silver hair was combed over and shone in the bright lighting, thin and frayed at the tips. He looked like a man with too many grandchildren to keep track of at once, and it was pulling him apart.
Shawn knew better, though. He knew who this man was, and not just because of the obvious. No, he looked into the man's eyes, the windows to the soul, and saw it there hidden in plain sight.
There was a glow of pride in his accomplishment, in his creation, that wouldn't leave no matter how many times he blinked.
"I've been searching," the man said, a smile cracking over his face like a split in a seam. "Searching for a way to help you, to save you…"
The man leaned closer, to which Shawn leaned twice as far away.
"I found it," he whispered excitedly, almost vibrating with something akin to glee.
Shawn forced himself to ignore what was just said, but the words wouldn't stop echoing in his mind. They cursed his thoughts with reluctant hope, and hope was something he really didn't want to feel in the presence of this person.
"Who are you?" he demanded quietly, keeping the quiver from his voice.
"My name is Dantero," claimed the still-smiling scientist, "and you're coming with me."
"What?" It came out as a squeak, but Shawn cleared his throat and pressed further. "Uh … no, I'm not. I … I don't think I should leave. My friends will be back any minute now with smoothies. Pineapple, of course. If you'd popped in earlier, they would've gotten you one, too."
"Ah, well. Such bad timing on my part, then," Dantero replied smartly. He peered closer at Shawn, examining him with narrow eyes.
The discomfort struck danger levels in Shawn's brain, tightening the knot of fear in his chest. His heart rate sped up again; the scientist looked at the monitor and then turned back to him. "Please," he said, an attempt of kindness in his old, scratchy voice failing miserably, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to help."
"Where's Shawn?" the boy asked, ignoring how weird it was to say that. "What have you done with him?"
"That's none of your concern," Dantero retorted, glancing at the clock on the wall. Suddenly, his stance was more urgent, as if he was running out of time. "We need to leave soon, before someone sees…" The man touched Shawn's IV bag, as if to check that it was working.
"What do you mean, 'none of my concern'?" Shawn demanded, feeling panic swell in his stomach. He didn't know what to do; he felt weak, helpless, and terrified all at once. There was an internal battle happening inside his mind. His fight-or-flight instinct was arguing with his curiosity, his need for answers.
"We need to leave," Dantero muttered, almost to himself. "I wanted to come get you earlier, but those people wouldn't leave your side."
"You could've snatched me up last night," Shawn pointed out, confused. "I was asleep in bed."
"I didn't have it then."
"Have what? The … the cure?"
"We need to go," the man reiterated, speaking quickly, "Now. Before someone comes. They wouldn't understand…"
"I don't understand," Shawn declared. "Please, just… Is he alright?"
"The original? Why does it matter to you? Shouldn't your survival be more important?"
Shawn shook his head, a bubble of courage growing inside him and allowing him to speak easier to this stranger. "I don't care if you can save me and make me big again. My life isn't going to be the same anyway, as long as Shawn is alive. So … is he? Alive?"
The scientist paused, heaving a sigh. He looked back at Shawn for a long time, and it took a tremendous amount of effort to keep eye contact with this … this maniac. That's what he was, after all. He was obsessed, tortured by his own ideas, addicted to his own creations.
With a sickening twist in his stomach, Shawn realized that meant him. He was, after all, one of this man's creations.
After what felt like ages, Dantero spoke.
"I'll take you to him."
Shawn shot the man a look of suspicion. "Why should I trust you?"
"I left the serum in my lab, where the original is being kept. When we get there, I'll explain everything to you. You have my word, but we must leave now."
Shawn pursed his lips tightly together before nodding shortly. "Alright. I'll go with you, but only to trade places back with the original. Do we have a deal?"
Dantero nodded back. The teen was still wary of his trustworthiness, but he was willing to take this risk if it meant the original Shawn would go free. Even if this cure didn't work, even if he died in the end, there would still be one Shawn out there living his life with Gus, and Juliet, and Henry, and even Lassiter.
If he did this, maybe he wouldn't die in vain?
"Let's go," the man said, moving back to check behind the curtain for anyone approaching.
Shawn moved to take the covers off him, and was surprise when the action went pain free. His eyes trailed from the needle inside his hand back to the bag hanging next to him. The memory of Dantero checking his IV flashed in his mind, looking like he was making sure something was working. "What did you give me?" Shawn asked, surprised at how much stronger he was feeling.
Dantero looked over his shoulder and grinned at the boy. "I injected you with a temporary relief serum. It will help you move easier so we can get back to the lab faster, but it will only last a couple of hours, maximum. That's another reason we need to hurry up."
"Alright, alright. I'm going," Shawn said, throwing the sheets off his legs and swinging them over the side of the bed. "Give me a minute to get dressed," he added, remembering his clothes were in the closet. "I can't exactly go outside wearing a paper dress."
Dantero nodded quickly and went on the other side of the curtain, pulling it closed behind him. When he was alone, Shawn let out a quiet sigh and shook his head. This was getting out of hand, becoming too much. Leaving with the man who kidnapped him and cloned him was probably the worst idea he ever had, but it felt like the only option at this point.
In a bout of frustration, taking out the IV needle was a lot rougher than it should have been, making Shawn wince at the sting. Standing up was easier now that he was drugged with whatever the scientist shot him up with – it was probably why he woke up earlier, too. Walking near the chair next to his hospital bed, something caught Shawn's eye. Pausing, he bent over to grab whatever was wedged between the seat and the cushion.
Despite his current situation, Shawn felt a smile spread over his face when he saw what it was.
A plan formulated quickly in his brain, giving him – for the first time since he figured out this whole clone business – confidence that everything was going to be okay, for everyone. Call it a psychic vision.
Trying to contain his grin, Shawn wandered over to the closet, his father's cell phone in hand.
-:-:-:-
"Drive faster."
"I'm driving as fast as I can, Mr. Spencer."
"The speed limit, in this case, is meant to be broken. Don't you think, Gus?"
"We're literally tailgating Lassie and Jules. If anything, you should be telling them to hurry up, not me."
Henry huffed, reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone. It wasn't there, so he tried the other pocket and came up empty. A frown scrunched up his face. "My phone's gone," he stated, checking his pant pockets as well. "I swear I grabbed it before heading to the hospital earlier."
"Are you sure? Maybe you forgot…"
Henry threw a glare in Gus's direction, shutting him up instantly.
Just then, speeding on the streets of Santa Barbara five minutes away from Cottage Hospital, Gus's phone started ringing. It was in the center consol rather than on Gus's person, allowing Henry to see the screen once it glowed up. He snatched it when he spotted Juliet's name, flipping it open. "Detective, tell your partner he needs to pick up the pace," Henry hollered.
"Mr. Spencer, Shawn just called us," came Juliet's hurried but quiet voice through the speaker.
"Is he alright?"
"We think so. He's still on the line with Lassiter, but he seems to be talking to someone else, not us. By the sound of it, the scientist got to him before we could."
Henry frowned, though the kid's plan to secretly keep them informed of his position was smart. Gus tossed him a look that screamed: don't leave me out of this conversation! So Henry put his phone on speaker. "What are they saying?" he asked.
"Shawn's trying to get a location out of the kidnapper. He's calling him 'Dante's Inferno'…" Juliet sounded confused, though Henry couldn't blame her.
"Sounds like they're leaving the hospital," he said, thinking. "Shawn could barely move the last time we saw him. Where'd he find the strength?"
"Maybe he's in a wheelchair?" Gus suggested, catching on to the topic at hand.
"Shawn just hinted at the car we're looking for," Juliet said after a moment of pause. "It's a blue van."
The next few minutes were agonizing, both cars still heading in the direction of the hospital until they got more clues from the overheard conversation. The building was in view before Lassiter's car suddenly swerved left instead of right, speeding up. Gus hastened to follow while Henry called into the phone.
"What is it?" he demanded. "What's happening?"
"Shawn just mentioned Hollow Boulevard," Juliet explained. "They're still driving, it sounds like."
"Does it seem like he's there against his will?" Gus asked as he made a sharp right turn after the red Crown Vic.
"Actually, no…"
"Huh. That's a little strange, don't you think?"
Henry didn't reply, but he did smirk to himself. "He's leading us to the real Shawn," he explained, figuring it out before the others. "He must've said he'd go willingly if he could see the real one. They must be heading there now."
Gus cast him a worried glance. "What do you think will happen when they get there?"
"I don't know."
"Guys," Juliet jumped in, sounding excited. "Shawn just gave another street hint. I think I know where they're headed."
-:-:-:-
The warehouse loomed high over their heads, shadows cast across the pavement opposite from the yellow light of the lamps. The sky was dark and cloudy, very poetic to the mystery aspect of the situation. Shawn stepped out of the van's passenger side once the car stopped, his nose crinkling against the stale smell in the air. The thud of the car doors slamming shut echoed in the empty evening air.
"Nice place you got here," he commented, walking after Dantero as the man hurried towards the metal door. He adjusted the sleeve of his sweat jacket that was concealing his father's open cell, which he prayed to every higher power in existence was still connected to Lassiter's phone and had transmitted all his hints and hidden details of their trip here.
"Come through here," the scientist whispered, waving his hand down a narrow hallway just inside the doors. Shawn raised an eyebrow as he went inside, walking slowly through the building with what one would call a mad genius trailing behind him.
"You know, I've got the name of a great interior decorator on the tip of my tongue," he said, looking at the bleak white walls lit by a single dreary lamp. "Just say the word, and it's yours."
"This warehouse is only temporary," Dantero explained moving faster to walk ahead of Shawn and take lead. "Until I find a better setting, that is."
"Oh, of course. I didn't mean … to judge…" Shawn's sentence trailed off as the hallway opened up to a larger room. His eyes took in the tall shelves, filled with boxes and beakers and science equipment. The lighting switched from a bright yellow to a dull blue, casting the color in every direction. The floor was mopped clean, sterilized, as any lab floor would be. It took another step forward into the room before Shawn saw some familiar things.
There was the small metal table, still covered in tools and syringes and knives. It didn't matter that they were no longer bloody – they were still as threatening in Shawn's mind as the first time he saw them.
Then there was the big, metal tub. The last time he caught sight of it, he was on the ground looking up and sort of preoccupied. Now, though, his eyes were able to distinguish this from a normal bathtub. There were tubes and wires streaming out of it from every angle, and a clear glass dome over the top. Shawn tip-toed closer to get a better look inside, expecting the pungent smell of the pink goo … but it was clean, empty.
"That's where you were born."
He spun around to face Dantero, who was watching him now with rapt attention. A light grin of nostalgia played on the scientist's face.
"You mean where I was grown?" Shawn questioned. Dantero shook his head.
"Technically, yes, but … I prefer to think of you as my own. If not a relative, then an extension of my mind, my ideas. You and your brethren are the closest people I have to a family, now that mine is gone."
Inwardly cringing at the thought of being connected to this man any more than he already was, Shawn thought up a reply fast. "By brethren, you mean…?"
"The other clones."
"How many are out there, Dantero?" Shawn asked, trying to sound innocent. "How many others are like me?"
"Oh, none of them were quite like you," came the sad yet energetic reply. "They were all fully grown. Their bodies and genetic make-up were stronger because the process completed on schedule. The only reason you're not the same as them is because there was an error in the oxygen system."
Dantero gestured at the metal tub with an open hand. Shawn looked inside again and noticed a breathing apparatus. If his memory served him right, which it always does, that was the thing covering his face when he awoke two days ago. "I had to pull you out of the stasis chamber too early, or you were going to die."
"So that's why I was suffocating?" Shawn confirmed. The scientist nodded. "You still haven't answered my first question, though. How many?"
"Only you, now. I … I couldn't save the others. Their cells eventually died out and they stopped functioning." Dantero looked and sounded genuinely sad about their deaths, which made sense to Shawn, though he didn't quite sympathize. "This is why I've been searching for a way to save you," he went on to explain. "I've been close to a cure for a while now. I just needed the right genetic codes, DNA from the original subject. I synthesized a serum, and just in time, too. Isn't it wonderful?" He turned away then, fiddling with something on the table behind him.
Shawn steadied his breathing as his nerves were starting to get the best of him. Things were out in the open now, more information than before. Though he still didn't know how the scientist pulled it off. "You must be pretty smart to manage this," he said, trying to sound impressed.
Dantero's smile grew tenfold. "You understand now, don't you? That's why I chose you, the crime-solving psychic. Your mind was just ripe with possibilities, potential. I've been dying to meet you under different circumstances."
Shawn flashed a false smile and nodded, pretending to know what the crazy dude was talking about. "And what kind of circumstances is the original under right now?" he asked, stepping forward. "You said I could trade places with him. Where is he?"
"Ah, yes…" Dantero walked around a shelf and disappeared from view. Taking a deep breath, Shawn wasn't sure if he was ready for this, but he knew he had to just dive right in and do it. So, with clenched fists and a curious eye, he followed the scientist around the corner.
And he saw himself.
Shawn, the real one, was lying face-up on a metal table. His eyes were closed and there were a few black marks on his skin, seemingly made from a sharpie. They were almost like markers for places to cut with a scalpel. Gulping, the younger clone noticed the Velcro straps tying his original's hands and feet down. He didn't look any worse for wear, he didn't appear bruised or damaged or bleeding anywhere. He just looked asleep.
This was too weird.
Too … surreal.
It was like looking in a mirror, only this time he looked the way he was supposed to look – grown up, small laugh lines around the eyes, and a ten o'clock shadow on his chin. He was just … bigger. Older, and bigger, and so very real that it made the younger Shawn's stomach churn.
"Did you drug him?" he managed to ask in a steady voice, which was a surprise.
"Only a little bit. I didn't get a chance to run as many tests as I would've liked," Dantero said, disappointment evident in his tone. "The complication with your oxygen really threw the entire project off schedule."
"Just a … quick question…" Shawn asked, never taking his eyes off of the man on the table. "How … how old am I, exactly? Because my mind and memories are that of a 35-year-old, my body looks about fifteen, but how long did it take for me to … develop?"
"Oh, I'd say … five hours?"
Shawn let out a small chuckle of disbelief. So I'm literally only two days old. What … this can't be … I don't… It felt like his mind was short-circuiting.
"I can tell you need time to process everything," Dantero said, stepping closer to the boy. Shawn's eyes were wide and he looked lost, his thoughts racing. "And once we get you cured, we'll have all the time in the world to talk. But first thing's first…"
Shawn was so out of it, he didn't realize that his grip on Henry's cell phone loosened tremendously. He felt the hard plastic device slip through his fingers and fall from his sleeve, hitting the ground with a solid thud that caused him to jump in alarm. Dantero stopped in his tracks and stared at the open phone in confusion, glancing back at the clone with suddenly narrowed eyes.
"What…?"
Shawn reacted the only way he knew how – rashly. Reaching behind him, he grabbed hold of a metal tray and swung it around, whacking the scientist in the side of the head with a loud yell. Dantero fell down at the abrupt blow, his eyes closed, and Shawn simply stared.
"Woah."
He didn't really mean to do that, but it worked nonetheless.
Just then, the cavalry arrived.
Lassiter stormed inside behind Shawn, gun raised, and Juliet followed suit, both shouting out "SBPD!" and "You're under arrest," to the scientist on the ground. The young Shawn stepped back and gave Lassiter room to kneel down and arrest Dantero, who was woozy-headed and not quite aware of what was happening. Juliet cleared the room, passing by Shawn with a quick glance.
He smiled at her, looking rather smug and for good reason, too. "Did you bring me a smoothie?" he asked playfully. Juliet grinned back and put away her gun. She was about to say something in reply, but then her gaze travelled over his right shoulder.
"Shawn…" she breathed out, brushing past the teen and jogging over to the man still strapped to the table. Gus and Henry ran in just as Lassiter was taking away his suspect, and neither spared more than a single glance in his direction as they hurried over to join Juliet.
Shawn's smile flickered away like the weak lights above his head as he watched his family and friends ignore his existence. This was a victory, he told himself, despite the chilling sensation in his chest that told him otherwise. He did what he planned to do in the first place, which was rescue the original Shawn and return him safely to the others.
It wasn't until he was standing alone in a cold corner, watching distant smiles of relief light up Juliet and Gus's faces, did he truly grasp how different his life was about to become.
