We jump back in time a few seconds to let you know what everyone else was doing…

oO0Oo

While Shawn fought to contain the deadly cloud, many things were happening around him.

Juliet had pushed Gus from her thoughts and run after Naijar. She'd seen him pull out the detonator. She'd shouted at Shawn. After what Mia had told them, she knew he was now their only hope. She tackled the terrorist only a moment too late. They struggled in the sand until Naijar realized what Shawn was doing.

When he saw that the flames were working and that no one was going to die, least of all himself, all the fight went out of him. Panting, Juliet slapped on the cuffs and held him at gunpoint. She felt the incredible heat from the flames shooting from Shawn's hands. She watched her prisoner but couldn't help glancing at her friend.

Lassiter and Mia roared up behind them, driving down onto the sand to get as close as possible. Several squad cars were behind them.

They got out of the car and Lassiter was forced to stop and watch the conflagration and the silhouette of the man in front of it who was its source.

Mia ran to Gus.

Lassiter moved then, too, and went to assist his partner in detaining the terrorist who was now silent: despairing, but docile.

Everyone stayed well away from Shawn. Truth was they couldn't have gotten close to him if they tried.

"Gus?" Mia asked gently as she carefully rolled him onto his back.

He groaned, regaining consciousness. "That really hurts," he moaned and slowly reached to pull his shirt open.

Having learned from Mia's mistake, Juliet had worn her vest and insisted that Gus be provided with one as well. It had saved him. The bullet had struck him center mass and would have killed him almost instantly.

"Shawn?" he asked after touching the bullet lodged in his vest.

Mia just nodded her head in the direction of the flames.

Gus turned but lay immediately back down in pain. Ribs broken by a bullet fired from near point blank range prevented that particular movement. When he did manage to get himself in a position where he could see, he just stared.

Mia slowly stood and approached Shawn.

They all watched as he dropped, exhausted, to his knees, the flames pouring from his hands still consuming the gas.

Mia tried to shout encouragement to him but knew there was little chance that she would be heard. Her empathic sense told her that Shawn was desperate, terrified, exhausted, and weak. And he was getting weaker by the moment.

She sensed Gus at her side and was impressed with his ability to stand. She felt his fear and his sadness.

"Is this it?" he asked her timidly. "Is Shawn going to die?"

Mia swallowed. "I don't know, Gus… But he's saving us. All of us. And them, too." She gestured at the pier above their heads and the city of Santa Barbara.

Gus took two steps closer, needing to get as close as he possibly could. If Shawn were to die, he would not die alone. Mia felt some of his fear be replaced by steely determination.

Gus closed his eyes and sent thoughts of encouragement, support and friendship towards his buddy. 'I'm here, Shawn. We're all with you.'

It dawned on Mia that what Gus, by simple instinct, was doing could make all the difference for Shawn. She immediately began telling everyone not otherwise occupied to do the same. Juliet immediately left Naijar in Lassiter's custody and went to stand with Gus. They supported their friend the only way they could.

Finally the canisters were empty.

The flames still continued, and they realized that Shawn was no longer aware and was simply desperate to go on for as long as he possibly could.

A moment later, the flames began to sputter and finally died.

Shawn collapsed onto the sand and lay still, his body smoking slightly.

oO0Oo

Everyone stood frozen, uncertain what, if anything could be done.

The cruiser with Naijar secured in the back seat left to take him to prison. They would hold him at the SBPD until the CIA could deal with the situation.

As that vehicle left, several officers watched as a dark colored and over-sized ambulance arrived bearing CIA medical personnel. The staff immediately began unloading specialized equipment to deal with the situation.

Everyone else looked at Shawn.

Shawn did not move.

Gus tried to go to him.

Mia came and stood next to Juliet. "He won't be able to reach him. The heat will not dissipate for a while yet."

Juliet heard something in the agent's voice and looked over at her. She was surprised to see tears rolling down Mia's face.

Gus desperately wanted to know if his best friend lived, but it was like trying to touch a coal at the center of a bonfire. The flames might be gone, but the heat remained. He called Shawn's name, trying to wake him, but there was no response.

Mia cleared her throat and continued, her eyes never leaving the form on the ground. "A trained, experienced pyrokinetic would be able to control the flame; would have destroyed the gas more efficiently and with less effort. Shawn…" She sniffed. "Shawn could only throw everything he had at it… Maybe more than he had to give."

Juliet listened in dismay. "Is there anything we can do?"

"What—like throw a bucket of water on him?"

Juliet was shocked at her sudden callousness.

"I'm sorry," Mia whispered to her, and closed her eyes. "There's nothing we can do but wait."

Gus couldn't wait. Finally he forced himself to ignore the heat and knelt next to Shawn. He could feel his knees burning from the heat on the sand. He did his best to ignore the pain. He tried to press his fingers to Shawn's throat but had to snatch them away because it hurt to touch him. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to try again. He hoped he would be able to detect a pulse before his fingers were too badly burned.

"Gus!" Mia called to him in protest. "Don't! You'll—"

"He's alive!" Gus cried. "He's got a pulse."

Relief rippled through everyone except Mia, who knew all too well that Shawn was not yet out of danger.

Then two of the CIA paramedics pulled Gus away and began to treat him for first and second degree burns, and see to his ribs as well. They wanted to take him to a hospital for further treatment, but he wouldn't leave without Shawn.

Finally, the medical personnel were able to get close enough to wrap the limp form in fire blankets and lay him on a stretcher.

They took him and Gus into their ambulance as others worked to contain the scene. Mia took out her phone and contacted the proper authorities to take care of processing Naijar.

Juliet moved closer to the ambulance, hoping to get some news.

Lassiter came to stand next to Mia, who finished her calls and also watched the bus.

"He's not out of danger is he?" Lassiter asked, knowing from her stance, and the motions of the paramedics that things did not look good.

Mia shook her head. "This is the hard part."

Lassiter glanced at her in confusion. He, like everyone else, had thought the worst was over.

She explained. "While he's producing flame, his… his body's natural defenses are at their highest." She kept looking towards the ambulance but tried to explain. "When he collapsed, he didn't even have burns." She gestured toward the ambulance. "Now he does. Like I said—he wasn't trained in this. And… it's going to get worse before it gets better." She paused. "He's not out of danger, no," she finished quietly.

"Shouldn't they be getting him to a hospital?" Lassiter asked, thinking it odd that the ambulance showed no signs of moving.

Mia shook her head, but couldn't tear her eyes from the ambulance. "When a man has a fever of 102, you can take him to the hospital. When his fever is more like 202… you can't. That is the hospital. Don't worry. It is very well-equipped, and those people are well trained to deal with this. Excuse me, I need to go."

Just then one of the paramedics stuck his head out the door and shouted, "Special Agent Rodriguez!"

Mia ran towards the ambulance and entered just as Gus walked gingerly down the steps. Juliet came to meet him and took his elbow. One arm was tight against his ribs, and his left hand was heavily bandaged where he'd burned it touching Shawn. When he met her eyes, his were red rimmed and bleak. "It's bad, Juliet. They don't know if…" He swallowed and looked back at the ambulance, watching as Mia went to Shawn.

"What's that about, I wonder?" Juliet mused.

"They were talking about that," Gus provided. "You know the 'connection' they have?"

She nodded.

"They think she can help him. Make him strong enough to… to survive."

"I really hope they're right," Juliet murmured.

oO0Oo

Throughout the day, while things inside the ambulance moved with the speed of a controlled desperation, things outside were quite the opposite. Slowly, meticulously, the scene was processed and cleared.

By sunset, you would never know that anything unusual had occurred under the pier. The carnival was in full swing above their heads, but underneath, all that remained were three vehicles: a dark red sedan, a tiny blue coupe, and a black, oversized ambulance. There was also a large scorch mark on the underside of the pier and bits of glass scattered in the sand; Bits that were actually sand melted in the heat of saving the city.

Four people milled about. Buzz had taken it upon himself, with the Chief's permission, to remain and provide food and drink and anything else needed to Lassiter, O'Hara, and Gus.

The two detectives had tried several times to get the injured member of their team to go home, but there was no way Gus was leaving without knowing if Shawn would survive.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, the door in the back of the ambulance opened and one of the doctors stepped out. He looked exhausted.

The four who kept vigil gathered around him. "I wanted to let you know as soon as I could that we are fairly confident that Mr. Spencer is going to make it. It was touch and go there for a while, but with the help of Special Agent Rodriguez, we feel he is relatively stable."

Gus closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing even. Juliet smiled as tears of relief filled her eyes. Lassiter cleared his throat and asked, "What happens now?"

"We will continue to monitor him for a few hours yet, but then, if things continue as we hope, he will need someplace to recover; someplace quiet where he can be constantly watched. He may not regain consciousness for several days, but don't worry. If there is any change, or if he takes a turn for the worse, we can be on scene in less than an hour.

"If you need it, we can also provide nursing care in whatever location you choose, but that is not medically necessary. Agent Rodriguez led me to believe he probably has enough friends to cover his care." At that the doctor smiled wearily, letting his listeners know he was human after all. "That is somewhat unusual for my patients—and it's nice to see." He nodded at them. "Is there some place you can prepare for this? Some place where Mr. Spencer can be cared for over the next week or so?"

Lassiter and O'Hara looked at Gus.

Gus looked back at them for a beat before nodding. He closed his eyes and sighed, "Somebody's going to have to tell his dad…"

TBC…