Chapter Ten:
At one-seventeen, Shawn arrived at the office once known as Psych, nearly doubling over as his lungs felt like bursting. He was late. Granted, it was only by two minutes, and considering the time frame and the number of blocks, the young man was actually fairly impressed with himself.
"You're late." The gruff voice from the night before echoed his thoughts, and Shawn immediately straightened.
A cloud of smoke billowed from the open passenger-side window of a dark green Cadillac parked on the curb beside him. A shadowed figure sat within at the wheel, leaning toward the opposite window but not enough to reveal his face.
"Yea," Shawn replied in a clipped tone, shading his eyes from the sun overhead. "Sorry about that. I hit some...obstacles."
"Everything taken care of?" The man asked, shifting in his seat. The bright glow of his cigarette cast an eerie light onto dark, red-rimmed eyes. Shawn had to keep himself from shuddering. This was the kind of stuff from movies, the things that writers had nightmares about and turned into million-dollar screenplays.
Night of the Living Dead. The Exorcist. Poltergeist...Gigli.
"Yea." Shawn nodded, a hard look glossing over his features. "Everything's been taken care of."
"Good." The figure sat back in his seat, taking a long drag from his cigarette before tossing it out his window. It rolled into traffic, smoke still fizzling from its orange core. "Get in the car."
Shawn didn't hesitate, grabbing the handle of the passenger door and tugging on the rusted metal until it gave way. He roughly seated himself inside, pulling the door closed and staring straight ahead. He didn't want to see the man who had kidnapped his Lassie and bound him in chains in some deep, dark room and done who-knew what to him. Not yet. Because if he saw that man before he could curb his anger, he didn't know what he would do.
So he sat and he stared, ignoring the man beside him. Shawn could see out of the corner of his eye that the other man was looking at him, studying him. And the young man wanted to do the same, wanted to learn everything he could about him just by offering the kidnapper a fleeting glance.
Instead, Shawn spoke. "So what do you want from me?"
"There'll be time for details later, Mister Spencer," the man said as he turned the key in the ignition. The Cadillac roared to life, sputtering and shaking.
"When do we make the exchange?" Shawn demanded, gritting his teeth as his hands balled into fists.
"We don't."
Shawn barely had time to whip his head in the man's direction before a pair of strong hands grabbed him from behind, one tugging roughly at his hair to jar his head back and the other pressing a foul-smelling cloth to his nose and mouth.
Shawn struggled, but to no avail. He could feel his limbs becoming heavy, his vision blurring as his eyelids drooped. The last thing he remembered before everything went black was a wide, gaping grin, yellow teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.
0 o 0 o 0
"Chief Vick?"
"I can't believe that restaurant just let him walk out of there!" Vick seethed, pacing the corridor of the Santa Barbara Methodist Hospital. O'Hara and McNabb stood cautiously against the wall, the latter hopelessly attempting to get the angry woman's attention.
"Chief?" The officer tried again, swallowing hard as the infuriated police chief spun on her heels and continued to mutter to herself.
"Two of their customers pass out cold, and they don't think to stop the one man with them as he runs out the door? That doesn't seem a little suspicious to anybody?"
"Chief..." McNabb sighed, his shoulders slumping. He reached a tentative hand in her direction, pulling back immediately as she wheeled on him.
"What?" She demanded harshly, eyes wide and glaring.
"I-Isn't that...Mister Spencer and Mister Guster's doctor?" His voice nearly cracked as he motioned to a man walking briskly from Henry's hospital room, long lab coat swishing from side to side as he stared intently down at the chart in his hands.
"What's his name?" Vick muttered under her breath to the two beside her as she started after him quickly.
"Harman," Juliet offered helpfully, trailing after the woman with McNabb at her side.
"Doctor Harman!" The chief called, catching up to the man as he stopped and turned around.
"Chief Vick." He recognized her immediately. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you could update me on the condition of Henry Spencer and Burton Guster. We're investigating the disappearance of Mister Spencer's son, and the sooner we can speak with them, the better."
The doctor nodded, clearing his throat. "Their blood work hasn't returned from the lab yet, but from what we have observed, we think that they both may have been given a sedative of some kind."
"Is it something we should worry about?" Vick asked, crossing her arms as her eyebrows furrowed.
"Not at all," Doctor Harman assured her. "The sedative was mild at most, and we're monitoring their vitals closely. Everything seems normal." Over the intercom, a bland voice called the doctor to the nurses station. "I'll be sure that a nurse informs you when they're awake."
"Thank you." The chief nodded absently, and the doctor turned and started down the corridor again at a hurried pace.
Vick sighed and turned to the other two. "We have officers patrolling the area around the restaurant?"
"Yes, Ma'am," McNabb nodded. "We have several eye-witness accounts of Spencer running in the direction of his...former office." He shifted uncomfortably at the insinuation of the comment. Shawn Spencer was no longer SBPD's wonder boy. He was a fake, and, in all reality, a criminal. "We're in the process of getting the surveillance tapes surrounding that area."
"Good," Vick replied. "Now, I want-"
"Excuse me," a timid voice said from behind the chief, and the three turned to see an elderly couple sitting in the waiting area, staring at them. They stood, making their way towards them. The man spoke again. "We're sorry for eavesdropping, but did you say the name 'Spencer'?"
"Who are you?" Vick asked suspiciously.
"I'm Michael Dunning. This is Martha Sampson. We're retired officers teaching at the Arizona Law Enforcement Academy."
Vick's eyebrows rose. "Oh!" She said, suddenly, recognizing the names. "You're my contacts. I'm sorry, I didn't expect to...meet you in person."
"Well, we didn't really expect to come to Santa Barbara," Martha started with a gruff laugh. She was obviously a smoker or had been at some point.
"But when we heard about Shawn's...situation," Michael continued, "we thought we would come and offer our assistance."
Vick gave the couple a tight smile, her teeth grinding. "Well, as much appreciated as that is, the Santa Barbara Police Department is more than capable of-"
"Chief?" Juliet interrupted hesitantly, almost blanching as her superior turned an aggravated and exhausted look on her. "I think...I think they might be able to help."
"Oh?" Vick ground out, one twitching eyebrow raising.
The young detective swallowed hard before taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and turning towards Michael and Martha. "What can you tell us about Shawn?"
0 o 0 o 0
//The Truth About Shawn Spencer (Third Chapter):
Chet Donovan was Shawn's first serious boyfriend. They met during Shawn's third week at the academy, Chet's first.
Chet was shy, tall and lanky with dark, curly hair and the most gorgeous green eyes the young Spencer had ever seen in his life.
Their superior put them into the boxing ring together one day. All activity in the gym ceased, several pairs of eyes attentively focused on the two contenders--Shawn, who had yet to lose a match to anyone, and Chet, who had barely said a word to anyone since his arrival.
Shawn's footwork kept him well out of the taller man's line of fire, but Chet could throw a nasty-looking left hook. After a few minutes of circling and playful punches, their superior growled and barked orders to "stop pussy-footing and get down to business." Shawn smirked, dodging another throw and backing Donovan into a corner.
Chet's mesmerizing eyes grew wide, and Shawn faltered. it was the opening that the tall man needed, and he barely thought twice as he took advantage of it, delivering a powerful left-hook to the other's jaw. Shawn swiveled on his feet, blacking out before he hit the mat.
He woke in the infirmary, those green eyes staring down at him in worry.
"Andrews?" Chet asked quietly, his voice trembling. Shawn grinned widely, immediately regretting it as he felt the painful swelling in his jaw and his split lower lip.
"Spencer," he said, sounding as if he had a mouth full of cotton. Chet looked vaguely confused and even more worried than before. "My name's Shawn Spencer."//
0 o 0 o 0
"Chet is stationed out in Nebraska, now," Martha explained, her tone withered and heavy. "He graduated a few weeks after Shawn. I don't think they parted on...good terms."
"Shawn started getting a bit restless the last couple of weeks," Michael added. "His roommate told some of the other trainees that he kept packing and unpacking his things, like he was getting ready to leave then changed his mind."
"We were told later that whenever he got too restless, his roommate would call Chet, and he would settle Shawn's nerves enough that he'd think twice about leaving."
0 o 0 o 0
//"Shawn," Chet called as he burst though the door of the other's room. Shawn's roommate, Brian, stood in the center of the room, arms crossed and face pinched with annoyance. Chet nodded to him, and Brian brushed past him without a second's hesitation, muttering something about being trained as a baby-sitter instead of a police officer.
Donovan frowned at the nearly-full suitcase lying open on Shawn's bed, watching stoically as the other man briskly walked out of the closet carrying several nicely-pressed shirts and threw the clothing hastily into the case.
"Shawn," Chet said softly, and Shawn stopped. He didn't turn, but his shoulders hunched and his breathing hitched. "Leaving again?"
Shawn swallowed, closing his eyes and gasping as Chet moved toward him and placed tentative fingers on the small of his back. "Don't," he begged breathlessly. "Don't stop me. Please, Chet. Please let me go."
"Sorry," the taller man whispered against the other's neck. "You go, I go. That's the deal, remember?"
Shawn let loose a bark of laughter that ended with a strangled sob. "Not this time, 'Officer' Donovan."
Chet's stomach twisted. Something was wrong. This was not the run-of-the-mill itch that he was used to. Shawn was genuinely bothered by something, and Chet was not at all sure whether he could fix it this time.
Chet turned Shawn around, taking in the red-rimmed eyes, the trembling fingers, the bitten bottom lip. "Shawn? What's wrong?"
The shorter man took in a deep, shuddering breath, grasping the arms encircling him and gently pushing them away. "I can't breathe. Chet, I can't breathe. This place, it's too small. I need...I can't..." Shawn's legs were shaking, and he whimpered as they gave out, Chet barely catching him before guiding them both to the floor.
The taller man's eyes were wide with concern as Shawn clung to him, pressing his face into the curve of Chet's neck. Chet could do nothing more than card his fingers through the other's loose hair and hold him close. Shawn's breathing eventually evened out, and he fell asleep against the only person that might be able to help him...and the one person he knew he couldn't allow to.//
0 o 0 o 0
"Shawn left after graduation," Michael told the small group sitting around him and his companion in the waiting room. "He didn't tell anyone where he was going. Not even Donovan."
"Chet disappeared for a few days," Martha said with a sigh. "He never told us whether he found Shawn or not, but we think he might have."
0 o 0 o 0
//Chet found him on the border of Mexico. Shawn didn't have much more than a toothbrush and a change of clothes.
"Columbia," Shawn answered when the taller man had asked him where he was headed. "I hear they make great coffee."
"Shawn, this is ridiculous," Chet argued, running a hand through greasy curls that hadn't been washed in the two days he had spent hunting the other man down. "Come back to Arizona with me. Watch me graduate, then we can go where ever you want. Columbia, China, Russia. Whatever! Just...please, come back with me."
Shawn considered the offer--truly considered it--and for a moment, Chet had a feeling the other man would really come back, that they could be happy and content and all that other bullshit that people had warned him Shawn would never be able to give him.
And then the moment passed.
"You don't know anything about me," Shawn seethed, his back to Chet as he hid tears that needed so desperately to fall. "You don't know one God damn thing."
"Shawn, don't-"
"I'm a lie, Donovan," Shawn spat painfully, his fists clenching at his sides. "You can't fall in love with someone who doesn't exist."
Chet swallowed, desperately wracking his brain for a response. "But I have," he replied pathetically. "I have, and it's not fair because you won't trust yourself enough to love me back."
"You can't...You can't fall in love with someone," Shawn repeated huskily, "who doesn't exist...who will never love you back."
Silence and then the slam of the motel room door followed the man's words, and Shawn spent the night cold, alone, and utterly heart-broken.//
0 o 0 o 0
"Did he say anything?" Juliet asked softly, the corners of her mouth drawn downward to keep her lips from trembling. "Did Chet say anything when he came back?"
Martha was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts before saying, "I think he told Brian that he wished he knew who made Shawn the way he was."
"After graduation, Donovan moved to Nebraska," Michael said solemnly. "He has a family now, a wife and two daughters."
"Have you contacted Officer Donovan about this situation?" Vick asked, more out of curiosity than accusation--though her tone was anything but the former.
"No," Martha said. "We thought it best that Chet be left alone. If things...take a turn for the worse, then we might. But for now-"
"I think we should talk to this guy," Juliet interrupted suddenly.
"Detective?" The chief warned, eyeing the young woman, but Juliet continued, undeterred.
"Chief, so far he's our only lead. If Donovan is a part of this, he could be our only way of finding Shawn and Detective Lassiter."
Vick was about to argue, but the sound of a soft voice pulled them all away from thoughts of Shawn, Chet, and Lassiter.
"Chief Vick?" A small nurse asked politely, her hands clasped together in front of her bright pink scrubs. "The gentlemen you have been waiting to see are awake and...requesting to see you."
0 o 0 o 0
Shawn wasn't at all sure why it was dark or why he couldn't move his arms or who was trying to wake him from a warm, cozy nap. What he did know, however, was that he wouldn't like the answers to any of these questions. Not. One. Bit.
"Spencer!" The hushed voice came again, this time with a violent prod to his shoulder. Shawn gasped as the cold and the pain hit him, and he groaned, attempting to shift into a more comfortable--possibly fetal--position. When this proved unsuccessful, he carefully opened his eyes, finding a pair of very worried eyes staring down at him.
At first, he could have sworn they were a very familiar shade of green, but upon further inspection, he found them to be a very familiar shade of blue instead.
"Lassie?" He slurred, blinking his eyes into focus and shaking his head of drowsiness.
"Spencer, are you all right? Can you move?"
"Barely." Shawn looked up, finding his wrists handcuffed around a rather sturdy-looking pipe. He was not more than three feet from Lassiter. "Where...Who..." He huffed in annoyance, closing his eyes against the dizziness.
"I don't know," the detective answered. "Did you get a good look at them? Did you see anything at all?"
"I see the ceiling," Shawn muttered dazedly, his head lolling from side to side as he stared upward.
"Spencer, focus!" Lassiter hissed, his gaze shifting towards the closed basement door. "Did you see anything?"
"I saw...eyes," the younger man whispered.
"'Eyes'?"
"I've seen those eyes before," Shawn murmured, his eyebrows drawing together. "Tired, sad...Where have I seen those eyes?"
No more was said as the basement door, suddenly, swung open.