Shawn looked at Henry with just a hint of apology in his eyes. He knew exactly what his dad wanted to say.

Henry recognized the look, so he merely scowled as he got up and grabbed the crutches Shawn had dropped when he saved Juliet. They both looked up as Lassiter and O'Hara dragged a handcuffed, bleeding, and violently struggling woman out of the darkness. When they reached the front of the building, they spun her around and forced her to sit with her back to the still-intact front window. She cried out at the rough handling. As soon as they let go of her she started to get up to run. It was only when Lassiter cocked his gun and pointed it at her head, Juliet following suit, that she stilled.

Lassiter called for back-up with his free hand.

"Jules, Lassie?" Shawn spoke cheerfully from his spot on the sidewalk, "I'd like you to meet the real Karen Miller…"

oO0Oo
The Big Reveal
oO0Oo

Sitting on the sidewalk in front of his damaged apartment, Shawn thought back to that list of do's and don'ts that he'd been given at the hospital. He was pretty sure that 'play football' (that is: run and tackle someone) wasn't actually on the 'don't' list, but he was also pretty sure it should have been.

You probably couldn't really call what he had done, 'running' – but when he'd seen Miller take aim, he simply had to get to Juliet before the bullet did.

The fact that he'd succeeded more than made up for any "discomfort" he might be feeling currently.

Due to his little extra-curricular activity, Shawn was in the greatest pain he'd ever experienced, which was saying something considering everything he'd been through in the last couple weeks. He remembered telling Garth he was in the worst pain of his life and almost laughed because while that had been a bon-fire, what he felt now was a small sun.

He was completely and utterly exhausted. His leg felt as if it were freshly broken, his ribs were in a vise that was making it harder and harder to take one of those painful, deep breaths he knew was supposed to take, and the pain and warmth spreading across his back told him he'd probably torn some nearly healed stitches…

But he wasn't about to let anyone know it.

Henry had grabbed the crutches and returned to his son's side. At the moment, he was pretty sure that Shawn should just stay on the ground until the ambulance arrived. But his stubborn child was already getting up and so Henry sighed and helped him. He became even more concerned when he nearly had to lift Shawn bodily onto his feet.

He then helped Shawn position the crutches so he could put his weight on them with a minimum of discomfort, but when he placed his hand on his back in support, he felt wetness. He drew his hand away and saw red. Shawn was bleeding.

"You tore your stiches." Henry ground out quietly.

Shawn just turned a bright smile on him to say, 'I know.' But Henry could see the way his teeth were clamped tightly together.

He sighed and went back inside. Shawn needed a better alternative to the crutches.

"Spencer?!" Lassiter, still in growl mode, left the 'you'd better start explaining' unsaid.

Shawn figured he better get his reveal going, and managed two steps towards the woman moaning on the sidewalk. He raised one hand to his temple and addressed her, "You were behind the whole thing from the beginning. It was you all along."

Jules frowned, "What do you mean, Shawn? Who is this? Karen Miller died when the house exploded… didn't she?"

Shawn turned slightly towards Jules, "That's what she wanted us to think." He looked back at their prisoner and continued, "You were the small time thief who came up with a brilliant plan to rob an armored truck by weakening the floor plate. But you didn't want to take the risk yourself, so you found someone who could actually pull it off for you: Your boyfriend's brother was in prison with a skilled welder. What could be simpler?" He started counting off on his fingers: one finger, "Talk them into committing the crime," two fingers, "split the cash between the four of you," three, "and disappear. No one could ever tie it back to you, because you were never directly involved. You and Martin would be in Canada the whole time!" Shawn paused to catch his breath, dropping his hands to readjust his grip on his crutches before continuing.

"You and Martin… That's messed up. How could you date that guy? He was creepy! With the greasy hair," Shawn pretended to stroke his own hair, "and the-" He was beginning to describe Martin's large nose with his fingers when Juliet interrupted.

"Shawn!"

He stopped. He couldn't glare at Juliet like he would've Gus, so he just continued, "You planned the whole thing out perfectly. Martin wanted to be in on it, but you knew that if he was, there was that much more chance of it leading back to you, so you kept him out of it. You wanted…" he tried to take a breath, but the vise around his ribs was making that increasingly difficult, "wanted him to stay in Canada."

At this point, Henry reappeared with a wheeled desk chair from inside. He gently supported Shawn as his son relinquished the crutches that were actually doing more harm than good at the moment, and sat down. He grimaced as the wound on his back hit cloth, but glanced at his dad in pure gratitude before continuing.

Henry scowled angrily.

"Martin's brother, Eric and Garth Longmore… sorry - Stubbins." Shawn shook his head as if to clear it, "Eric and Stubbins were ready to go, but it was your idea to do a test run on the ice cream truck. That was your first mistake!" Shawn grinned again, "'Cause that was when Gus and I got involved. If you had just gone ahead with the plan, we might never have known… but ice cream? Boy, I bet you wish you had that decision back, huh?"

He swallowed again and forced himself to take one of those deep, painful breaths. He closed his eyes to hide how much it hurt, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Jules checked her watch and wondered where the ambulance was.

"But then Gus and I figured out what you were doing and Gar- Stubbins had to get me out of the way, so he shot me. After that, everything went south... Eric killed… killed Garth and got caught by… by a fantastic crime fighting… team…" his breaths kept getting shorter. He swallowed and trudged on, "Once Eric was put on trial, you couldn't keep Martin out if it anymore, so you followed him to Santa Barbara, and tried to scare Gus and me off the case with your threats… You were desperate to keep Eric out of prison in order to keep Martin under control and yourself beyond suspicion."

Deep breaths were no longer possible, so he took a few shallow ones.

Henry grimaced, watching his son's hard-fought recovery deteriorate before his eyes. He went inside to see what else he could find to help while they waited for the EMTs.

"But then Eric died in prison and there was no stopping Martin any more."He shook his head, "You knew he would come after us. You didn't care if we died – but it increased the chance…" breathe, "the chance that it would blow back on you."

Henry reappeared with the pain pills and a glass of water which Shawn waved away – He wasn't finished, yet.

"But your threats didn't work. And you knew Martin wouldn't wait... In fact – he took Gus without your knowing. You only wanted to save yourself. You knew if Martin kept it up, I would find you," he chuckled briefly, not wanting to start coughing, "And I did."

Henry watched his son's lips slowly turning blue and cursed the EMTs for being so slow, "Shawn – you can do this later."

Shawn just smiled and ignored him, "You knew Martin would use his demolition experience. When he wired your house, you knew you had lost control of the situation. That's when you killed a woman who matched… matched your description…" here, Shawn turned to Lassiter and Jules, "That's… the murder Vick called us…" He shook his head, waving his hand vaguely rather than finish, "Amy Elmbridge happens to look just like her," he pointed at Miller, solving a second case for the SBPD with those words. "You even knocked out all her teeth so there'd be no dental records to check. You put her body in the house. Then you… you blew it early. – You saved my life."

The three others present sighed in relief as they finally heard sirens in the distance.

"Martin was an idiot!" she spit the words. "He would have killed you. And at that point I was counting on you proving it was him so that I could go free."

Shawn chuckled, then coughed, "Gotcha." But then his face turned hard. "Your second mistake was not caring what Martin did to Gus." Shawn was growing weaker, his voice softer, but somehow angrier. "You… you should have known I wouldn't… wouldn't… stop… Blowing the house was… your final… mistake. Then I knew… I remembered Martin's demo…lition ex…perience…"

"Shawn…" Henry chided. His son needed to rest, but he also needed to finish this. The EMTs were almost there.

"SBPD was… investigating… theft…" he was gasping now, unable, any more, to draw even a shallow breath. "Dad?"

Henry grimaced at the request but took over. He spoke quickly, "The SBPD was investigating the theft of a single uniform, three sticks of dynamite, and a van. Ridiculous things to steal unless you have a very specific purpose. Once the house blew – which would take about three sticks if they were attached to a gas appliance – we only had to find out where Schreiner Demolition was planning an implosion. It was easy from there." He turned back to Shawn, "I still don't get how you knew it wasn't the real Karen Miller in the house."

Shawn smiled tiredly as the paramedics and the police rushed in. "Autopsy." He whispered, "Took some resear– reminding!" his hand had drifted to his lap, but now it popped back to his temple, "I had to… remind the spirits over and… over but they told me Karen Miller, also broke… her leg once upon… a time."

The woman in question screamed at him as her arm was being bandaged by the EMTs.

"Body had no hardware." Shawn gestured weakly at his own leg which would forevermore make it problematic to go through airport security.

Henry frowned angrily and geared up to scold Shawn for luring a murderess to his house when he was completely defenseless, but the paramedic placed a much needed oxygen mask on his son's face.

Shawn pushed it away before he could position it, though, answering what he knew his dad was going to say, "If I… hadn't been… alone… she wouldn't have come…"

He was so weak the young man assisting him easily pushed his hand away and settled the mask, "Just breathe, Shawn."

But Shawn hadn't stopped talking because he couldn't continue. He'd stopped because he saw something: Karen Miller had quit struggling, and was looking directly at him with a small smirk as she was led towards a waiting cruiser.

It was over. She was going to prison. Why was she smiling?

And then Shawn saw.

He saw the Fire Marshall's report that said the house was blown with the approximate equivalent of two sticks of TNT, not three. That a remote detonator had set it off where Martin's usual method was a timer. He saw Karen saying, "Neat little toy, don't you think? Blocks all wireless activity. It only works over short distances, but that's all it needs to do. I got them on sale,"

Them?

"No." Shawn breathed, but only Henry heard. He leaned closer to his son.

"No!" Shawn's voice was weak, but desperate, "NO!" He tried to shout.

Karen Miller began to laugh.

"Dad," Shawn grabbed a handful of his father's shirt and whispered desperately to Henry, "Gus. Call Gus! She's…"

The paramedic looked up in concern as his patient's heart rate suddenly doubled.

"Shawn?" Henry asked, but he was watching a now maniacally laughing Miller being placed into a waiting cruiser. "What about Gus?"

Shawn closed his eyes. "She's going to kill him." His voice was completely hopeless. He'd left Gus out of this to protect him – and now it might be the very thing that got him killed.

Henry knelt in front of him, eyes wide. Where anyone else (except maybe Gus) would have simply pointed out that what Shawn claimed was impossible, Henry grabbed his shoulders, "Shawn! Talk!"

Shawn's eyes opened and he looked desperately at his dad, "She took one of the sticks of dynamite from the house before she blew it, dad. She has a timer… something… I don't know. She's going to use it … kill Gus. It's - back-up plan –revenge. Maybe the Blueberry – it's small enough – one stick…"

Then he shocked everyone by standing up. "Sorry – gotta go - oh."

"Oh no you don't!" Henry grabbed him as he took his first step and immediately crumpled, consciousness deserting him for a moment. The paramedics helped Henry pick him up and they laid him on the waiting gurney.

Lassiter and Juliet had heard everything and were already on their way to their car, Juliet frantically trying to reach Gus by phone. But, of course, the signal was blocked.

Once he was prone, consciousness returned and Shawn picked up where he left off, "Dad! I have to-"

"You have to go to the hospital." The gurney was already moving as Shawn began to struggle weakly, "Shawn! Stop!" Henry followed alongside, a calming hand on his arm.

"Dad!"

"Shawn! We've got this." The gurney paused, "Lassiter and Juliet are already on their way!" Shawn looked into his eyes so scared and desperate that his voice softened, "We'll get to him in time, Shawn. Trust us."

"Dad…"

Shawn's hand slipped from Henry's as the gurney once again moved towards the waiting ambulance, "Dad…" came the plaintive cry.

Henry only watched for a second before running to his truck. He tore out of there faster than the ambulance. He could do a lot more for Shawn's health by finding Gus than he could sitting in a waiting room.

oO0Oo

Once inside the ambulance the paramedics went to work.

Shawn was still protesting, "No… I… have… to…"

The EMT's calm voice distracted him momentarily as spots began to dance in his vision, "Hey, Shawn. Don't know if you remember me, but we met before. I'm Mike." Mike continued to speak calmly to his patient as he worked.

"Gus… I…"

"You were pretty out of it, but we met at the warehouse where you got yourself in trouble last time. We got you and Gus through that, and you're both going to be fine now, too." Mike had been one of the paramedics who pulled Shawn from the wreckage and, although he'd spoken to his patient just as cheerfully then, he'd been convinced he was looking at a dead man.

He remembered the moment when Shawn had stopped breathing. The whole way to the hospital he'd expected Shawn's heart to stop beating, but it hadn't. He'd held on. This guy was a fighter. He wasn't sure exactly what Shawn was worried about, but he needed his patient to calm down and breathe, or he wasn't going to make it. He prepared a general anesthetic and got ready to intubate. "Your dad and those detectives? They've got this. You can just…"

Shawn saw what he was doing though the edges of his vision were foggy, "No... Please, don't. I… have to… awake…"

Mike considered briefly. He knew that a patient's emotional well-being could make the difference in a life or death situation. And he knew the story of what had happened at the warehouse – what Shawn had done to save his friend. He didn't usually get the whole story about his patients beyond their current condition, but he'd been impressed, and so he'd asked around. Whatever was going on now – he realized Shawn was still worried about his buddy.

"O2's at 85 and falling," his fellow paramedic murmured as she continued to work.

Mike made a rather risky decision, "Okay, Shawn, listen to me."

Shawn did his best to open his eyes and pay attention.

"You see this number?" He pointed to the readout on the machine next to them, "This tells me how much oxygen you're getting. It's at 84 now. If it hits 80, you are in real danger and I will have to put you under and intubate you. If you don't want that, you have to breathe." Actually, at this level of hypoxia it was impressive he was awake at all.

Shawn looked at the number and then back at Mike.

"I know the last thing you want to do right now is take a deep breath, but that's what you have to do if you want to stay awake…" He stopped because his patient's eyes had closed, but then he saw why. Shawn was taking slow deep breaths, each one deeper than the one before. Tears leaked from beneath his eyelids, and Mike had a pretty good idea of the agony his patient was in. He prepared medication that would take the edge off the pain and reduce the urge to cough as well. "85 Shawn. That's it. Keep going…"

oO0Oo

"Where is he?" Lassiter growled at his partner as she hung up her phone.

"He's still not answering. It's too late at night for him to be at work, and there's no reason for him to be at Psych. I think we've got to try his apartment."

They'd even put out a BOLO, but so far they'd heard nothing. Lassiter pulled a hard right and tore down the street towards Gus's home.

Henry, having been to Gus's place a few times over the years, knew the area well and beat the detectives by a nose, pulling in just ahead of the cruiser. He screeched to a stop about fifty yards from the Blueberry – just in case.

He jumped out and yelled to them, "There's the car! Did you get ahold of him?" Henry'd had no better luck reaching Gus by phone. Shawn hadn't had a chance to tell them about Miller's little toy. But the Blueberry was sitting, still in one piece, on the street in front of the building. They were there in time.

"There he is!"

"Gus!" Juliet yelled, "Gus, stop!"

Gus was just coming out his front door. If the Blueberry was wired to explode, and could go at any second, they needed him to get under cover. They were too far away and it was too dark to see just how close he was to the car, or what cover might be available to him.

"Gus! GET DOWN!" Henry roared, "GET DOWN NOW!" Inwardly he was thinking, 'for Shawn's sake, as much as your own- be safe.'

Henry hadn't even finished his yell when the Blueberry disappeared in a fireball.

oO0Oo

The ambulance was nearing the hospital, and Shawn's oxygen level was still slowly rising when: "Be advised of an explosion at 4938 North 23rd Street Santa Barbara. Fire crews are enroute…"

With all the other noise, and their level of concentration on their patient, neither Mike nor his fellow EMT registered the announcement on the radio. The driver noted it and resolved to check if they would be needed after they had dropped off their current charge. But Shawn – being Shawn – didn't miss anything: He heard the announcement. He recognized the address. He forgot to breathe.

"Shawn? Shawn!" The paramedics redoubled their efforts as their patient's oxygen levels dropped dramatically and his pulse rose dangerously. He was about to go into cardiac arrest if they didn't act quickly. "C'mon, Buddy, don't do this!" Things were suddenly very intense in the back of the ambulance as it pulled up to the hospital with an extremely unstable patient.

oO0Oo

TBC…

Just couldn't resist giving you guys one more cliffhanger.

I have an extremely high regard for those in the medical profession – especially those who respond in emergencies. However it should be noted that I have no real medical knowledge myself so please forgive any errors. I did my best with google, and threw in a few 'medical sounding' words just to make it seem like I knew what I was talking about. If you happen to be a medical professional, I would appreciate knowing about anything ridiculous.

okay – so the Blueberry exploding at just that moment was a tiny bit… shall we say, convenient? (she set a timer that just happened to wind down at that particular moment? Seriously?) But this is fan fiction and I make no apologies! :-D

Gus's address is completely made up. I don't even know if there is a 23rd street in Santa Barbara. Did we ever see Gus's home in the show?