"Goddammit, Jules!" Shawn slammed his mug down on the kitchen table, splashing coffee all over the table and floor and himself. Jules looked up from her seat in the armchair in surprise at Shawn's outburst, eyes wide. Shawn crossed the space between them and roughly yanked her up from the couch.

"Shawn, cut it out!" she snapped sharply, yanking her arms out of Shawn's grip.

"No, you cut it out!" He retorted. She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "This moping or whatever it is, it isn't healthy!"

"Well it's how I cope," she huffed, crossing her arms and turning to sit down again. Shawn grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her close to him again.

"It's been a month, Juliet!" He shouted. Jules winced at the use of her full name. He never called her Juliet unless he was furious. "It's been a month, and you've barely done anything besides sleep and sit on that couch and stare off into space!"

"I watched my daughter die, Shawn!" she snarled, eyes blazing. "I watched her die right in front of me! Do you have any idea how traumatic that is? Do you?." She pushed past him and headed down the hall towards their bedroom. Shawn followed after her, nowhere near done giving her a piece of his mind.

"You're not the only one who lost their daughter, Juliet!" he snapped. "I miss her, too, but I'm getting on with my life. But not you! You just sit there and feel sorry for yourself!"

She suddenly whirled around, hand outstretched. There was a resounding snap as Shawn's head whipped around from the force of the blow. For a second, he saw stars, then shook it off to meet her glare with his own.

"You think I'm feeling sorry for myself?" she demanded through clenched teeth. "You think this is about me? I feel sorry for Jenna, and for anyone else who didn't survive this! I feel guilty that they died, and I didn't! It should've been the other way around! I should have died! I should be the one in the ground!"

"Don't say that," Shawn yelled back. "Don't you dare say that, Juliet!" His eyes were brimming with tears as he stared at her.

"Why? Because you don't want me to be gone? Well it's true," she yelled through her own tears. "It's true! And I'm never taking it back!" She strode into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. A second later, he heard a small click as she locked the door.

Shawn screamed in frustration, turning back to the kitchen. Grabbing the first thing he saw- which happened to be the mug he'd slammed down minutes before- he threw it at the wall with all his might. The mug exploded into a hundred pieces and left coffee stains on the wall and floor. He scooped up his keys and left the house, slamming the front door as he left.

It took him hours to calm down enough before he could even think of going home. He'd been driving around town, first to his father's house and then to Gus's. Both had let him vent for a while, then begged off when they saw him getting angrier again. After that he'd simply driven around and tried to clear his head.

Both the sky and the apartment were dark when he got home. He tossed his keys onto the counter and flicked on the lights as he passed. As he turned the corner, he nearly jumped out of his skin as he caught sight of Jules sitting in the armchair again, staring straight at him.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered gruffly as he passed. "Goodnight." She didn't say anything. She just kept staring ahead at nothing.

He thought about going back and apologizing as he stripped out of his clothes and changed into pajamas. He climbed onto his side of the bed, and rolled over so that if Jules did decide to come to bed eventually, his back would be toward her. He yanked the covers over his shoulders and promptly fell asleep.

He wasn't sure what had woken him up at first. It was still dark out, and therefore he shouldn't be up, he reasoned. But the bed seemed to be vibrating, making it impossible to go back to sleep.

His eyes snapped open.

The bed shouldn't be vibrating.

He quickly snapped his bedside lamp on and turned to the other side of the bed. His mind was still groggy, and it took him a second to recognize the convulsing tangle of arms and legs on the bed next to him.

"Jules!" he cried, lunging for her body. She made a gutteral sound in the back of her throat as he pinned down her arms and legs to keep them from smacking him. Her body strained beneath his, and he finally managed to roll her onto her side. Her arm clipped his face right where she'd hit him before as he reached for the phone.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My name is Shawn Spencer, my girlfriend is having a seizure. I live at 12159 Sullivan Ave. Please hurry," he said quickly, desperation leaking into his voice.

"Ambulances are on the way, sir."

"Thank you." He hung up and devoted his attention back to Juliet, who was still convulsing on the bed next to him. Tears slowly slid down his cheeks as he held her in place to keep her from hurting herself. His thoughts flew to their fight before, and he was crushed by the guilt he felt for yelling at her.

Her body slowly began to relax and he cradled her limp form in his arms. He gently rocked her and chanted her name, hoping that she could hear him and that it comforted her as she came to.

"Shawn," she whimpered quietly as sirens filled the night air, "it's back."