Detective Carlton Lassiter's eyes scanned the room. He was in a gay bar, undercover of course. He wouldn't ever admit to himself that he was enjoying this assignment a little too much; he was surrounded by attractive men. His eyes landed on a familiar face. So familiar that he wondered what on earth Shawn Spencer was doing there. Here to ruin my investigation again, Carlton thought rolling his eyes. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off Shawn. He was flirting with an equally attractive man sitting by the bar next to him. He usually would have brushed it off, because it was really none of his business, but he caught Shawns eyes and they seemed to be begging for Carlton's help. Then he started paying attention. He noticed Shawn's body language as he avoided every touch from the man flirting with him. He faked a smile here and there, but panic was set on his face. He probably hadn't realized it.
Carlton went back to searching for their perp. He was looking for a younger fellow who had been raping and strangling men at this specific gay bar. His mind wandered to Shawn again and he couldn't get the panicked expression on Shawn's face out of his head. He twirled his head back around to glance at the stool where Shawn and his newest toy had been. He glanced back just in time to see Shawn being dragged towards the bathroom by the semi attractive man. He appeared to be about the same age as Shawn. Again not your business Carlton, he grumbled in his head.
It had been awhile since he had seen Shawn, and nothing suspicious had happened. Maybe I should look for him? Carlton thought grudgingly. Why was he always the one keeping and eye out for a grown man who couldn't even keep an eye out for himself. He had stalked into the bathroom with his usual scowl on his face, sick of Shawn always fucking with his investigations.
"SBPD. Everyone out!" He yelled into the bathroom waving his favorite badge around the small dingy bathroom. If Shawn was in here he would definitely have been out by now. Suddenly worry filled his stomach. If Shawn wasn't in here where could he be? He had to check the parking lot just in case he'd left. Then Carlton would feel like an idiot. That was definitely it, Shawn had just left with the attractive ish man. He wasn't sure why he cringed at the thought of Shawn with anyone else
His theory was crushed at the sight of Shawn's motorcycle parked in one of the first parking spots out front.
"Fuck." He was exasperated. Entering the bar again, he noticed the exit sign above a door in the same direction as the bathroom. Raising his gun, he stalked out the door. There was a dark alley behind the building with few lights; his eyes took a couple seconds to adjust. There, pressed against the wall, was Shawn.
"Freeze." Carlton hadn't even realized he had spoken until the guy pushed off of Shawn, with his hands in the air. Shawn collapsed, gasping for air. It occurred to Carlton that the other man had been strangling Shawn when he had approached them, it all seemed like a blur to the head detective.
Calling an ambulance and backup, Carlton had already cuffed the guy. He couldn't let go of him for fear he'd run but he desperately wanted to. He wanted to go to Shawn's side to make sure he was okay and to assess the damage before the medic arrived and before people started asking questions.
"Shawn." Carlton attempted getting his attention before he continued, "Are you okay?" He asked gently, holding his breath for the younger man's reply.
Shawn's eyes were tightly closed as all he could muster was a tiny nod in Carlton's direction.
"Is he okay? He's better than okay!" The man in handcuffs' proud bragging voice had found itself. Carlton didn't want to hear about it so he shoved the man hard in the back.
"Is that your boyfriend?" His evil eyes danced in his head as he continued taunting, "No judgement here, I like them feisty too. Although maybe next time pick someone who isn't so eager to have it up the ass. Fucking whore." Whispering the last words in Carlton's ear, he then spit at him. That was it. Carlton had had it. He swung his already clenched fist at the man's face, the force of his blow completely knocking him out. Fist in the air over the unconscious man, he heard a feeble "Lassie" from against the wall that made him stop mid punch. Shawn needed him, he didn't need his bloody fists from killing someone who deserved to rot in prison. He couldn't help but still be fuming mad. He'd wished Shawn would have let him kill the guy.
Wordlessly he turned from the unconscious body and made his way over to Shawn. His fears were confirmed as he made his way over to the psychic. So much for his gift, Carlton growled in his mind, but his negative thoughts dissolved as he helped Shawn to his feet. Shawn's pants were unbuttoned and unzipped, and the belt was undone, that was a horrible sign and he knew it but closed his mouth and looked up. Shawn's shaking hands pulled self consciously at the zipper on his jeans, then at the button. His hands were useless as he fumbled with the button on his jeans. He hadn't even realized he was crying until hot wet drops of water mingled with his useless hands making them slippery. All Carlton could do was watch the struggle before shoving Shawn's hands away fixing the button and belt himself. Shawn's body was leaned against the wall and his eyes were looking up, at the black night sky. Calton wanted so desperately to look him in the eyes and tell him it was going to be okay, but finally the paramedics were there with loud sirens, and bright lights. He walked away from Shawn and over to the disgusting body laying on the pavement.
"Get up." He kicked the body, earning a small grunt from the lifeless looking body. "You're going away for a long time." He said handing the man to another officer to have him taken to the station. He caught the bad guy but somehow that wasn't his priority.
Shawn was sitting in the back of an ambulance when Lassie walked over to him. He couldn't look at him, if he hadn't figured it out beforehand, now it was certain he knew.
"Shawn said he just wants to go home, and we really can't force him to go to a hospital." The Paramedic said to Lassiter, clearly assuming Carlton was his patient's ride home.
Not knowing anyone else at the crime scene, head detective Lassiter would be forced to drive the psychic home. Juliet was off on a day trip and wasn't home yet, and Gus had been away for the entire week on vacation. Henry Spencer was still sleeping.
The drive to Shawn's apartment was dead silent. Lassiter couldn't remember the last time Shawn was ever this quiet. In fact, he didn't think he's ever been this quiet in his entire life. It was uncomfortable, for him anyway. He glanced at the passenger's seat every once in a while to see the same thing each time. An unmoved Shawn curled into himself, facing the window. Closed off huh? He never thought the younger man could ever be closed off.
The car finally reached a stop, outside of Shawn's apartment. The passenger didn't move. Lassie didn't speak. He was waiting for his passenger to leave.
"Don't wanna be alone." He heard the quiet whimper of Shawn, who was now facing him, with tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He couldn't say no to him, so he turned the car around and headed for his own home.
After unlocking his door, setting his keys down in the bowl on the table at the entrance of his apartment, Lassie was on his way to find Shawn a pair of sweatpants. He left him standing in the middle of his living room area, the most uncomfortable he'd ever been, possibly. He fiddled with his hands feeling incredibly self conscious already. God he hated feeling this way.
Carlton appear a couple minutes later with some comfy clothes for Shawn to change into
"The bathroom is down the hall to your left, if you wanna shower or anything." He added uncertainty while handing him his clothes.
Shawn took them, slowly, and thanked Lassie.
He had been in the shower for almost 45 minutes. He knew Lassie was going to start to worry if he didn't hurry up, but he couldn't stop. His back was pressed against the cool tile while his eyes drained whatever liquid that was left. The water was so hot it could burn his skin. He wished it would burn off all his skin. Then he wouldn't have to remember this night, or think about how people were going to look at him now. Little did he know that Lassiter had already made some calls, to keep this situation completely quiet.
There was a loud knock on the bathroom door, no doubt it was Lassie's strong hand. He smiled but immediately felt sick, remembering the punches Lassie had thrown at his attacker.
"Spencer, if you don't answer me I'm coming in."
He found his voice, "I'm okay." He had tried to control it but instead it came out choked and forced. That didn't sound right Shawn decided, but before he could decide anything Lassiter had opened the door and was staring at Shawn's body. Fuck. More tears escaped shawn's eyes as he shrunk to the floor of the shower, curling into himself. Lassiter didn't care that he was still in his suit and tie from work, he practically ran to Shawn's side the second he hit the ground. He was there next to Shawn, the younger man pulled himself into his lap, still choking out sobs. Lassie ran one hand over Shawn's back in comforting circles and the other hand in his hair. He didn't care that his favorite work suit was completely soaked, although with tears or hot water from the shower he wasn't sure. It wasn't about clothes, it wasn't even about the shower anymore. It was about being there for Shawn.
Shawn had gotten up first, shut off the shower, and walked into the bedroom with the clothes Lassie gave him in one hand and a towel wrapped around his waist, leaving Carlton in the shower almost completely soaked. He didn't mind though because that meant he could do Shawn's laundry and get himself together before going to bed. He had figured he'd sleep on the couch and give Shawn the bed, because he was probably in pain. His mind trailed back to when he first walked into the bathroom. Specifically the dark bruises littering the psychic's skin: around his stomach, on his wrists, but the worst most scarring bruises to Carlton were the dark purple bruises around Spencer's neck, where he had almost been choked to death.
Absentmindedly Lassiter had picked up the dirty laundry, stripped himself of his suit, and grabbed some extra clothes out of the bedroom to change into. He didn't see Spencer in the bedroom so he assumed he was in the kitchen.
As he was throwing the Laundry in the washer he noticed a small blood stain on the back of Spencer's pants. His heart sunk. His fears were confirmed for sure this time.
He wanted to ask Shawn so much, but he didn't feel like it was appropriate. He found him on the couch, watching the black television screen. His eyes looked glassy, like he wasn't really there. He broke the daze just by standing in the doorway.
"I can sleep on the couch, if you want?" He meant for it to sound much more certain but it came out as a timid question.
"Don't be ridiculous Spencer, you can sleep in the bed."
He followed Shawn to the bedroom, watching him get into bed, and curl up again. He hated that the younger man was so closed off all of a sudden, but he supposed a traumatic event could do that to a usually confident person.
"Are you okay?" He asked cautiously, standing as close as he could to the bed. "Do you need anything?"
Shawn's battered hand reached out and grabbed his wrist gently. For the first time that night Shawn looked Carlton in the eyes whispering,
"Please stay."