I'll be blunt...As every chapter states, they are not mine and will never be mine.
Chapter 21: We Scattered all the Pieces when We couldn't just Leave well enough Alone.
"Now that's a message from my best friend," Lassiter, who wasn't able to completely hide his slight jump when the dark skinned man spoke up from directly behind him, silently cursed the fact he hadn't heard Guster approach as he checked his email. His scowl, already prominent on his face, deepened considerably when he glanced through his inbox, hesitating before opening a message entitled, "Lassie-face!" from an unfamiliar sender. The head detective hoped like hell that opening the message wouldn't crash his computer, or give it a virus, because the department was ungodly slow to fix things like that. Shaking off the thought, Lassiter went back to studying the email, resolutely ignoring the salesman behind him. Moments later, however, he silently admitted that, beyond the subject line, there were several other indicators that this might indeed be from the department's missing consultant, starting with the three chunks of gibberish that were masquerading as an actual message.
Certainly reminds me of Spencer's chicken scratch…the head detective groused with a sigh, But all that information doesn't do a damn thing to diminish the throbbing headache that has been lingering for the last couple of days…And now the man's partner in crime has seen this, and is bound to make more out of it than he should, the lanky man silently griped, closing out the mysterious email and turning toward the other man in annoyance, "There's no way to know that, Guster," Lassiter finally said, not wanting to completely dismiss the man, but also not willing to get anyone's hopes up, especially since Vick had been forced to pull everyone back to active cases earlier that day.
He'd been vainly hoping the other man would remain quiet, after all he was the more sensible of the Psych duo, if there was such a thing, but the head detective wasn't surprised when the pharmaceutical salesman spoke up. "No, not really," Gus admitted softly, acknowledging Lassie had a point, "But it simply screams Shawn, Lassiter, and I am pretty sure you know it, even if you won't say so. He's letting us know that, wherever he is, he's alive, even though he can't, or won't," he muttered under his breath, hoping to hell that Shawn knew what he was doing, "Tell us more." Gus could even admit he didn't know where the conviction came from, just that he was as certain the email that Lassiter had received just now was from Shawn as he'd been that the texts he'd gotten from his best friend's iPhone weren't from him. And I was right about that, so I am going to trust my instincts, he vowed, As well as the little voice that keeps insisting that Shawn believed in them too…knowing what he had to do next.
Though Gus worried that the email was grossly inadequate to telling him what had happened to Shawn after he'd gone out to Ridgecrest or where the hazel eyed man was now, the fact that his best friend seemed OK, just concerned about putting the people he loved in any potential danger, caused him to breathe a sigh of relief as he scanned the bullpen for either Juliet or Buzz. When his perusal came up empty, Gus figured they both must be out on cases and, leaving the lanky man sitting at his computer, he headed for the exit of the station at a fast clip, determined to find Mr. Spencer and get his take on this latest development. And he knew three places that he was most likely to find the older man on his day off.
"You know, Chucky," Shawn remarked from his perch on the bed, having left the room immediately after throwing his comment out into the silence. He knew this next conversation was going to be next to impossible to predict the outcome of, and he was dreading even bringing the subject up, but he couldn't stop himself from broaching the issue. Now's as good a time as any, Shawn mused before continuing, "It might be time to just let Marcus crash and burn on his own, if that is indeed what's going to happen," as he gauged the green eyed man's reaction. Man, if this doesn't work out the way I imagined, I'm definitely either going to get decked or smothered, he mused, seeing Charlie's mouth fall open in shock and wondering if he could still make a run for it before pushing further. "I mean, he's technically an adult, so it's really his business if he has no desire to ever amount to anything in this world besides being a two bit thug..." watching the twitch of the shadow in the hallway, Shawn continued, inwardly cringing at just how much his own words reminded him of some of his father's more colorful descriptions over the years. "Imagine how much fun he's gonna have explaining to any prospective employer why he has a criminal record, and that's if he's not in jail and can even get to the interview stage, not to mention he'll be lucky if he can ever find a nice girl to give him the time of day," Shawn added for good measure, recalling the young woman and her little girl on the street outside that he'd seen Marcus watching from his table that day.
As Charlie stood there wondering how he'd totally managed to misjudge the man in front of him, how he'd mistakenly carried this image of a warm, caring human being with him for the last decade and a half, he caught a fleetingly small smirk come and go on Shawn's face as the unmistakable sound of his brother barging into the room reached his ears. Could Shawn have possibly known Markie was eavesdropping and said all those things on purpose? Charlie thought in confusion, something about the entire situation, and his brother's volatile reaction, evoking the feeling of deja vu as he watched the scene unfold. Taking a few steps back to stand next to Jake near the door, who'd ventured into the room a few minutes prior, Charlie shook his head in wonder for the second time that day, noting the impressed look on the older man's face.
"And exactly what would you know about any of it, Whitey?" Marcus sneered, ignoring the audible intake of breath from the two men on the other side of the room as he stood over Shawn, desperate to get under the other man's skin the same way this stranger had effortlessly gotten under his in less than 24 hours. He silently called the faux psychic several choice words as he waited for the predicted explosion, This man knows nothin, nothin' about my goals and aspirations in life...the teen promised himself, seeing Angelica's face in his mind, I'm gonna be somebody, damn it, and I'm goin' places in my life...
However, instead of losing his temper as the young man had been expecting, the injured man in the bed simply gave a shrug, stopping the moment it started to aggravate his multiple injuries. He sat there in contemplative silence for several seconds, before seeming to come to a decision and stating, "Because I have one." The hazel eyed man blinked a few times in the aftermath, fighting the urge to laugh at Marcus's disbelieving stare, as well as the dual eyebrow raises from the room's other two occupants.
"Nuh uh," the younger man shot back, sounding much more like a child than the adult he was, completely convinced Shawn's admission couldn't be true. No way…Chaz said this is the guy who saved his life once, and, though he won't tell me exactly how that happened, why would a criminal save my brother—a black man from the ghetto? "You're just sayin' that, you hafta just be sayin' that," Marcus repeated the denial, shaking his head as he stared at the man in the bed. But weren't you asking yourself in the kitchen if the dude might not be some kinda con man or criminal? A little voice, one that he imagined might have sounded a great deal like his father's, had he been old enough to remember him when he died, niggled at him, causing the teen to worry his bottom lip in contemplation. The room stayed silent as Marcus worked through his concerns, his next words much quieter, and less certain than they'd been just moments earlier, though the defiance was still present. "What'd ya get pinched for?"
Ah, he's still convinced that I am lying, Shawn thought with a snort, realizing that it figured it was one of the first times in his life that he was being totally honest, that people wouldn't believe him. For just a split second, the consultant considered not saying anything, but, since he'd been the one to bring up the sore subject in the first place, there really wasn't any harm in answering the teen. Might even give Chucky a slightly better insight as to why I was so insistent about never returning to California all those years ago, the hazel eyed man admitted, knowing the other man's curiosity had never been anywhere near satisfied. "I borrowed a car when I was 18…"
"Grand theft auto?!" Marcus interrupted incredulously, studying the man much more closely than he had been mere moments before.
"There were extenuating circumstances…but yeah, I guess so…" Shawn muttered with a sigh, his words effectively deflating what was left of the dark skinned man's anger as if he'd let all the air out of a balloon, leaving him standing speechless in the middle of the room. Wow, he's not even going to go for the obvious opening I just gave him, Shawn mused as he kept his eyes on the floored young man. "So, I do speak from actual experience when I say it isn't worth it, Marcus. You're young, you have your whole life ahead of you; a girl you adore, even if it's from afar, and dreams," he pushed on, still watching the dark skinned man closely. "Dreams that don't involve stealing wallets or running hustles for the rest of your life," when he caught the surprised and guilty looks that flashed across the young man's face, Shawn knew he had guessed correctly. "And running with a crowd like TBone," the use of his friend's name, that no one had given to the fake psychic caused Marcus's eyes to widen in shock, "Is guaranteed to rip those dreams to shreds." Giving that information a few moments to sink in, Shawn shifted before continuing softly, "I'm going to share with you something my grandfather told me when I was a boy: don't let anyone take your dreams away, live your own life, make your own choices, and, perhaps most importantly, sometimes you gotta let what other people say float through the ears."
Not really expecting a response, the other three men in the room were surprised when Marcus spoke up, "Sounds like your grandfather was a wise man, just like mine..." before turning and walking quietly out the door, his exit a complete one eighty from his entrance. Even though mentioning his Grandpa Spencer had brought a pang of both joy and sadness to Shawn's heart, he truly believed what his grandfather had told him that day on the beach was the soundest advice someone could give. And, as far as Shawn was concerned, if anyone was in need of advice, it was that young man.
Well, hopefully, I managed to penetrate his thick skull enough to allow at least some common sense to get in there, he thought as it occurred to him just how quiet the room had been since Marcus had walked out. Glancing up he found two pairs of intense eyes, one blue and the one green, watching him. "Well that was easier than I thought it would be," Shawn remarked quietly, "Are you still fighting the urge to throttle me?" he asked the dark skinned man, only half joking. He knew all too well that, if the former Army medic, even without some of his more shady connections, chose to, he could make Shawn disappear without any hope of ever being identified, Or even found for that matter...
"I was until it dawned on me that the reason you were acting so strange was because of Markie," Charlie admitted without hesitation, his posture relaxed. He turned and was about to exit the room when a thought occurred to him, causing him to stop and address Shawn again. "But how'd you know he was out there?"
"Well, I noticed he was listening in at the door during our talk yesterday, so it stood to reason it was a fairly common occurrence," Shawn answered simply, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Charles," though his tone was completely serious, it was the use of the man's full name that caught Charlie's attention. "Your brother knows you care about him, but he's young and at that age where he thinks you're trying to tell him how to live his life, instead of acknowledging that you're worried and don't want to see him make the same mistakes you did at that point in your life. He's got goals, and with enough guidance, he's going to be just fine," he paused, fighting a yawn as his eyes slid closed before continuing more quietly, "Reminds me of a certain other person I once knew..."
Wow, this email looks like it might be from Shawn...Buzz thought in wonder as he scanned his inbox, his eyes catching a message from an unknown sender titled 'Nabby!' The notion occurred to him because, not only was the consultant the only one that called him that, but a random, anonymous email also fit the man's style to a T. Less than ten seconds later, curiosity got the better of the tall man, so Buzz clicked on the title to open the body of the message. He wondered briefly if it was wise, but decided to trust that opening an email from 'Imjustpineappley ' wouldn't result in crashing his computer since the hazel eyed man wasn't around to help him fix it this time. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he read the strange, but relieving, words, If one could call:
AAF IGW the blu one, b/c d00d better layout, and the circuits R upd8ted , so NMBF! Though the red ranch L00ks nice 2...Hope all is AOK w/ U and Frannie, tell her I said Hi. Had to DAL to a gr8t friend & an even gr8ter det., u just gotta HF in Urself,
words, the young officer admitted as he went about deciphering the abbreviations. Though it took a few minutes, as well as a notepad and a pen to unscramble the more garbled parts of the message, in the end Buzz was pretty sure he'd gotten the gist of it. Glancing around, he was extremely thankful that the station was quiet at this point in the afternoon, because he couldn't quite control the slight blush that had crept up his neck at Shawn's last line. Especially when Buzz recalled just how closely it mirrored what Francie had said to him the other night in their apartment.
He glanced around the bullpen for Detective O'Hara, knowing she'd want to be informed about the email, but, when his perusal came up empty, he assumed she was still in one of the interrogation rooms interviewing one of the witnesses that had come forward for the 594 that had been called in earlier. Figuring he'd swing down that way before heading out for the day, Buzz forwarded the message to his home email and then shut down his computer as he headed into the bowels of the station, a small, relieved smile playing on his face.
For those of you who couldn't decipher the email (myself included since I had to look things up to even write it…chatspeak is NOT my strong suit) this is what it is supposed to say:
As a friend, I would go with the blue one, because dude, better layout, and the circuits are updated, so no more blown fuses! Though the red ranch looks nice too…Hope all is AOK with you and Frannie, tell her I said hi. Had to drop a line to a great friend and an even greater detective, you just gotta have faith in yourself.