Psych: Solid Steel

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I am not affiliated with the USA Network. I just love the show and couldn't resist putting my own twist on things.

A/N: I changed the title from "Left For Dead" to "Solid Steel" because I felt that the latter was more fitting for the story I am telling. My apologies for any grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Also, thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I am glad that y'all are enjoying the story!

Faintly, he could hear Gus grumbling and grunting, but mostly he was consumed by the sharp pain in his side and the difficulty he was having catching his breath. A pounding in his head viciously made itself known, and he groggily thought to himself,

Man, my head feels like somebody is mowing the grass with a helicopter! He groaned and, momentarily forgetting about his side, tried to reach for his head.

"Don't move Shawn!" Gus said frantically as Shawn tried to touch his head.

"H-hurts." Shawn whimpered weakly, but didn't move his arm again, recognizing on some level that that movement was also extremely painful.

"I know. You were stabbed, Shawn." Gus said, his voice a mixture of concern and disgust all rolled into one.

"The ambulance should be here any minute. But if you move I can't keep pressure on the...w-wound." Gus swallowed loudly. Groggily Shawn thought, Boy, is this not my night/day/night.

"W-where's J-jules?" Shawn asked weakly, slowly coming to recognize that he was still lying on the ground and that Gus seemed to be the only person there.

"She's with Lassiter. They had to take Elin to the precinct." Gus responded, doing his best to keep his fear out of his voice. When Shawn didn't immediately respond, he started to get worried.

"Don't pass out on me again... I do not want to have to sit here alone while I try to keep you from bleeding out." He snapped at Shawn, hoping he would take the bait and rise to the challenge.

"I-I'm not gonna b-bleed out, you ss-sissy." Shawn taunted. Silently, Gus sighed in relief.

Smacking his lips, Gus retorted, "I am not a sissy, sissy."

"Y-you can'tt u-use my own ins-sults ag-gainst me." Shawn said brokenly, breathing harshly, uncomfortably aware of the warmth of his blood against his skin.

Images from before he was stabbed were playing over and over again in his concussed mind and he was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

"Come on, Son." Gus said shaking his head. Shawn's blood was still leaking from his body and Gus was trying really hard to not puke all over his friend and/or pass out.

Gus's tone helped Shawn break away from the never ending replay of images and he carefully peeked his eyes open. Catching sight of Gus's expression, despite the concussion, he instantly knew that Gus was trying not to blow chunks.

"Y-you'd better...better n-not throw up on m-me." Shawn tried to make a funny disgusted expression, but it looked more like a painful grimace.

"Believe me, I'm trying not to." Gus said, looking towards the sky as he breathed deeply, attempting to dispel the nausea.

"Ahhh! G-gus!" Shawn tried to yell, still having a hard time catching his breath, as a sharper pain overcame his senses and a pressure in his chest increased.

"What?! What else is wrong?!" Gus asked, panic ringing out in his voice.

Before Shawn could tell Gus what was going on he started coughing violently.

"I-I... can-can't bre...eath.." Shawn managed to choke out amid the coughing and gasping for air, the pain in his chest increasing.

"Ah, um, I-.. Did, uh, did she h-hit a... lung?" Gus stumbled over his question, trying to figure out what he could do to help.

Shawn couldn't answer as he started coughing again. Slowly the coughing fit subsided, but he was left still gasping for air.

"Oh boy... I'm going to take that as a y-yes." Gus said, again swallowing loudly. Faintly, Gus heard an ambulance in the background. Relief flooded through him and he smiled down at Shawn, who was still struggling with his breathing.

"T-the ambulance is almost here Shawn, just hold on, you're going to be okay."

Shawn heard Gus, heard the relief in his best friends voice, but he just couldn't respond. The pain was too much and it seemed like he needed all of his will power to just keep taking one breath after another.

Despite the pain, he couldn't stop thinking about Juliet. She still hates me. I am going to die without seeing her again. She is never going to know how much I love her. How real our time together was. All because I lied about being Psychic.

Maybe his problem wasn't just the inability to listen to his father, or to do things by the book, or to credibly explain how his photographic memory had been honed and sharpened all of his life, or even the excruciating pain in his side and the unbearable pressure in his chest and his current inability to breathe properly.

Perhaps his true problem was that the woman he loved, the woman he saw a future with, had broken his heart and tossed him aside in her own pain at what she saw to be a betrayal of everything she believed and loved.

Out of all his problems and life-threatening injuries, his heart seems to have taken the hardest hit. Maybe it's not worth it to fight the universe's supposed desire to kill me.

Perhaps everyone would be better off if I just let it win. Dad would be free to not worry about his reckless disappointment of a son, Gus wouldn't be held back by all of our schemes, and Jules.. Juliet would be free to forget me.

As blissful darkness once again drowned out the pain and Gus's helpless reassurances, one last thought flickered through Shawn's consciousness.

Perhaps solid steel isn't so difficult to hurt after all.