A/N: Okay, so I know what your thinking. Is she crazy... she JUST posted this chapter! Yeah, I'm not crazy. It just so happens that two different (but equally awesome) bands have songs titled Best I Can. If you haven't done so already, check them both out (Art of Dying and Decfyer Down). As always enjoy... also this one took on a tiny little life of it's own. So if it's weird or out there... blame my muse. It is always HER fault! Also, any medical facts that are the opposite of facts are because I was too lazy to actually look up information.

Been thinking about

All those lies you heard me say

I can't make them go away

Shawn paced the floor in front of him. His perfectly molded hair was now sticking up in every which direction. His face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He felt like he might just be dying, and yet he continued to pace the floor. More in debate than anything else. At first it was, should he venture a visit to the clinic, but quickly turned into something much deeper. Something that halted any thoughts of clinics or emergency rooms.

It had turned into should he tell Juliet the truth? He had found it increasingly more difficult to keep up his ruse with her. To see the belief in her eyes, and know that he was lying to the woman that he loved. It killed him inside, which brought him to his current position. The fact that he couldn't stop puking his guts out, and felt that he might just fall to the floor and never wake up again, must be in direct result his punishment for lying for so long.

Karma was a cruel bitch to those who had wronged her, and Shawn was more than likely at the tippy top of that list. Claiming to be clairvoyant, when in fact he was just a big fat fakeity fake. Oh yes, karma was cruel, and yet he deserved so much worse.

No matter how much he might would like to take back every single last lie he told up to that first day that he had shaken his leg and looked Lassie-face right in the eye and said 'I'm Psychic', and yet he couldn't.

God, he was so damn tired. All he wanted was to sit down, but he couldn't do that. Hell no. He had to pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. Constant motion, otherwise the horrific and extremely blinding pain would return. Bringing it's best friends, extreme nausea and horrifying vomiting.

He was so regretting that fourth burrito this afternoon. He also was expecting Gus to pop his little head through that door any minute, demanding him go see a doctor. Oh wait, he already had done that. When Shawn had upchucked his entire lunch, or at least what he thought to be his entire lunch, in Gus's front seat. Yeah, that had been a wonderful experience. Though, in Shawn's defense he did say he felt sick. That was warning enough... well maybe not since the vomit seemed to explode from his mouth right after he had spoken, but hey that was neither here nor there!

Been thinking about

All those mistakes you've seen me make

Hands in his hair, pulling meretriciously, he cried out. Deal with the intense pain in his stomach and sit down, or deal with the continued abuse to his long past exhausted legs that felt slightly rubbery. This decision seemed much harder than whether or not he should finally come clean to Jules. That answer was sickeningly easy... simple... no wait, it wasn't the decision that was sickeningly...

Bolting down the hall on rubbery legs, easier said than done since he nearly catapult himself into the wall. How wonderful that would have felt on top of everything else. Flinging his pained body to the hard tile of the bathroom floor, his head barely over the toilet as the revulsion continued to ravish his body. With each new heave, he felt his stomach climb that much closer to his esophagus. You would have figured that by now he would have upchucked his stomach, and several other organs. However, everything that was vital to his continued living, stayed put. Finally, it seemed that he was out of things to throw up, and his body resulted to dry heaving. Which seemed to actually be worse.

Once his body stopped the revolt, he looked toward his ceiling as a few tears edged down his cheeks. "Please just kill me. Let me die, cause this torture has got to end!" Oh yes, getting pissed at the man above. That was going to win him karma points. Then again, he might be past winning karma, at this point. He had done everything in his power to push... no shove, Juliet away from him. He had hurt her so many times, and yet she was still with him. God, how big of a idiot could he have been to think that Abby would be a sufficient enough replacement for Juliet? Especially considering their vast differences. There was nothing about Abby that was anything like Juliet. Of every mistake he ever made, that was the biggest one.

Of course, he'd never say he didn't care about Abby. He would however say that he had hurt her, and at the same time he hurt Jules. He had to be the worlds biggest moron. No wonder the powers that be seemed to see it fit that he suffer long for his many crimes of idiocy.

Faintly, he heard a feeble knock on the door. Well, whoever seemed brave enough to venture into hell had a key. They could come in, and make themselves at home. He, however, was exhausted. He was going to lay his head against the tub, stomach pains be damn, and he was going to sleep!

When I can barely hold on

You promise me you won't let me go

And I want you to know

"Shawn?"

He heard his name being called, and yet there was no one around him. So, he was going crazy on top of being deathly ill. Wonderful. Then he realized that his eyes were still closed. Slowly, sensation started to rear it's ugly nasty little head. It wasn't the continued stomach pain, no that had haunted him even in dreamy sleep. No, it was stiff pain in his neck and back. The cramping in his legs. Oh the cramping. It was almost worse than his stomach pain... Dammit he said almost!

It was like each part of his body hated him profusely, and decided that it was time to revolt all at the same time. If that itself wasn't bad enough, it seemed as if they were all battling for the top spot of worse pain.

Whimpering lightly, he opened his eyes to an excruciating headache. Yeah, definitely time for a clinic visit. Though there were a couple of problems with that. One, he couldn't seem to move. Through the stiffness and cramping, the seemingly paralysis was explained. There was also the fact that he might be past clinical help, which meant this would now constitute as an emergency room visit. Which meant that his dad would find out, and that made him wonder what exactly was the lesser of two evils. The extreme pain and vomiting, or having his dad tear him a new one.

"Shawn!"

Hmmm... there was that voice again, and damn it if his vision wasn't so hazy and blurry he might just be able to see who was yelling for him. Squinting helped slightly, and he realized that Juliet was hovering just above him. The look of immediate worry scribbled across her face... her beautiful face. God, he loved her so much.

"Shawn, hold on. The ambulance is on the way. Shawn... talk to me. Let me know your in there!"

How could he deny her... and yet he couldn't form words. Every-time he opened his mouth a groany whine penetrated his mouth. Sighing, yeah that hurt... and not in that good way that Mellencamp always sings about either! He gained a miniscule of control over himself.

"Hurts..." Well, his voice seemed to have become whiny at some point. Fabulous.

"Just hang on Shawn."

Through his blurry vision, he watched as she sat down beside him. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling his freezing cold body against hers. Without his permission, his eyes slipped close again. Damn he was tired.

I don't live a perfect life

But now I'm living the best I can

Needles... why in the world did it feel like he was being pin-pricked by dozens of tiny needles in both his arms and legs. His completely rational fear of all things pointy brought him back from unconscious-land way quicker than his body wanted apparently. Lurching his prone form into a sitting position, not taking the time to look around the surrounding area, he leaned to the right and emptied the contents of his stomach. The groan that formed afterward sounded as if he had actually swallowed one of said pointy things.

"Ugh." He spat a couple of times, before leaning back. At which point he realized that he was not alone in his room. That, of course, sent the past day rewinding in his head. Bringing him back to the present. Oh yes, how could he forget. He had gone and pissed off karma, who retaliated with a nice stomachache and a bout of vomiting that would make the world's toughest warrior cry for his mommy. Which of course, had led him here. To the hospital. In which he had just degustified with a vomit bath.

Juliet looked at him, worry written across her face. Tension written in her hands... the way that they clasped hold of each other. "Shawn.. are you okay?"

"Hmmm... yeah. My stomach doesn't hurt. That is definitely a positive considering the past..." He paused when he realized he didn't know how long he had been mayor of unconscious-land.

"You've been out of it for nearly twenty-four hours now. The doctor said that it was normal with the amount of exhaustion, and as badly as you were dehydrated... I was still worried though."

Even though he knew it was wrong. No matter how badly every fiber of his being fought against it, he smiled softly. "I'm sorry you were worried. It was probably just a stomach thing. No biggie. Plus, I mean, it's kind of gross. I really would have rather my girlfriend not see my throw up."

Despite her shakiness, Juliet laughed, though she quickly sobered up. "Shawn, it wasn't just a stomach thing. You had salmonella. Gus got pretty sick not too long after you left. It made him realize that it was probably something that you both had eaten..."

"No way! The burritos? Dude. I am so not going to be able to eat one of those delicious things in a long time. This totally blows..."

Juliet side-stepped, as the housekeeper walked into the room. Mop in hand, and a face made of stone. She had apparently seen worse, though Juliet really hadn't. Which was why she averted her eyes from the stinking pile on the floor. A dead, rotting, stinking corpse... no problem. Vomit on the other hand was the one thing that could roll her stomach down a lane that would cause an even bigger mess.

"Shawn, do you understand how serious that is? If I hadn't found you... hadn't gotten you to the emergency room..." She couldn't do it... She couldn't say the words.

"I'm sorry Jules..." He turned his head. Staring out the window, not really seeing. It was just a way to not have to look at her. A way to hide. It was the only way he would not blurt out the truth, and yet he wanted nothing more!

"Juliet... I have something that I need to tell you." He closed his eyes. Ready to plunge forward. Even if she walked out that door and never came back. Hell, even if she ran straight to the chief and told on him, he could take it. All he wanted... needed in that moment was to tell her the god honest truth. For once in his life, he just wanted her to know him. The real him. Not this fake imposter that had been living his life for the past six years. It was well past time.