Okay - don't worry - the action/adventure is coming back in the next chapter.
Gus was worried. That wasn't unusual – being friends with Shawn Spencer meant that he spent a lot of his time worrying. But this was different. This wasn't Shawn getting into trouble, jumping into things without thinking, or running off on a quest based on some obscure clue he'd seen or heard. No, this was very different, and it was scaring him.
Shawn had been transferred to his own room in the hospital and was slowly recuperating. It would be a long time before he was up and around, but at least he was no longer in danger of dying. He was, however, in a lot of pain. The doctor had begun to cut down on the heavy duty pain medication – to reduce the chance that Shawn would become dependent – and he was therefore feeling pretty miserable, even if he hadn't said anything to anyone about it.
So – Gus kept trying to tell himself that that was all it was. He couldn't expect Shawn to be his usual self, not when he was feeling so terrible. Anyone would be grumpy or impatient or just plain wretched when dealing with all the injuries Shawn had - except he wasn't any of those things. Instead he was quiet and cooperative and – and just not himself.
Gus had known Shawn since they were six and he knew his friend as well as he knew himself. He'd been with Shawn at some of the lowest points in his friend's life – from the breakup of his parents, through the turmoil and fights with his father, to being sick or hurt and always Shawn had dealt with things with his usual humor, silliness and apparent immaturity. Gus knew that when things got really bad – when Shawn was at his sickest or most frightened, he used those things to deal with the stress and anguish of a situation. The worse things got, the more he acted out – literally driving everyone around him crazy. It was his coping mechanism.
Gus had expected to see it start to come out as soon as he was aware of what was going on around him. He waited for Shawn to start fighting with his father, or making funny quips about Lassiter, begging for food or smoothies from Gus and flirting with Juliet. He'd done none of those things and Gus was scared.
He'd wondered if he should say something to Henry, but then decided the older man would probably think Gus was worried over nothing. Everyone was treating Shawn with kid gloves and didn't expect him to act any differently than he was. It was true his friend was still terribly ill, but that didn't matter. Something was different, something had happened to Shawn – and Gus worried that his friend might never come back to him.
He sighed and walked down the hallway to Shawn's room, pausing before he pushed the door open. He had to be imagining things. Shawn was just fine. As soon as he was feeling better he'd revert to his usual self. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Please let him do or say something to show his friend he was still in there.
When he entered the hospital room Shawn was all alone. Gus could tell, by the tension in that poor, wounded body, that he was awake but he was staring at the window, his body still and his eyes barely blinking. He didn't move when Gus walked in, although it was obvious he was aware that someone had arrived by the increased tension that seemed to wrap around him.
"Hey Shawn, I brought you a smoothie. That new place opened – you know, the one you told me about. I got you a Pineapple Berry Blast. It'll definitely tingle your taste buds."
The injured man turned his head slowly, blinking his eyes as if he'd just woken up. "What?" he said softly. He still spoke as if he wasn't quite aware of what was going on around him. Gus figured that was mostly due to the medication he was still taking. At least he hoped that was the case.
"I brought you a smoothie", he said, holding up the cup.
"Oh", Shawn blinked again. "Thanks." He continued to lie there, not reaching out for the cup or even seeming particularly interested in it.
Gus stood there for a moment and then walked forward. "Uh – do you want me to hold it for you?" He knew it was still difficult for Shawn to use his hands and he'd had to have people help him when he took a drink. So far he hadn't been able to handle any solid foods, so eating wasn't yet an issue.
"No, that's okay." Still he didn't take the cup and Gus finally just put it down on the table beside him.
"So, how are you feeling today?"
"Fine."
"Uh – that's good." Gus pulled up the chair and sat down. "Your Dad's not here?" he asked, then he grimaced. That was a pretty stupid question since there wasn't anyone else in the room.
"No. He went home to shower and eat."
"Oh." Gus sat and bit his lip. He'd never, in all the years he'd known this man, had trouble having a conversation with Shawn. In fact, there were lots of times he hadn't had to say a word. Shawn could talk continuously for hours without a single break. Now, it was like pulling teeth to get him to say more than one or two words at a time. "Is he coming back soon?"
Shawn gave his one shoulder shrugs but seemed to realize almost instantly that that wasn't a real answer. "I don't know – he – I think – I can't remember. I think he'll probably be back soon." There was a short silence and then – "he doesn't need to come. I'm fine now. I don't need to have people babysitting me."
Gus looked at him in surprise. "Uh – I don't think anyone thinks of it as babysitting Shawn. We were worried about you and – we want to see you. I know your Dad was really upset and probably needs to spend time with you to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine", he repeated. "I know you have your work and other important things to do so don't think you have to come all the time. I don't want to keep you from those."
"You're not", Gus answered in surprise. "I finished my route earlier and anyway, you're the most important thing. You're my friend and I want to be here."
"Thanks", Shawn said softly, still not looking at his friend. "But – you should worry about yourself Gus. You have a career and – and a family that loves you. I don't want you to think you have to spend all your time here."
"I don't think I have to – I want to. You're my friend." When Shawn didn't answer, but simply continued to lie in his bed, looking so – so lost, that Gus grew even more worried. What was this about?
Suddenly he figured it out. Crap – this was about him telling Shawn he didn't want to be friends anymore. Damn! After they found Shawn focused on him simply surviving and after that on his recuperation. He'd pushed what he'd done to the back of his mind – but he realized now how hurt Shawn had been. Gus wanted to knock his own head against a wall. How in hell could he have done that to his best friend?
"Shawn – listen. If this is about that crap I told you before – about not wanting to be friends anymore, well that was simply me being an idiot and I'm really sorry. I was under a lot of pressure at work and I said some things I didn't mean. Please, say you'll forgive me and forget this. You and I are a team – we're Laurel and Hardy, Sherlock and Watson, Dean and Jerry, Lenny and Squigy." He would have kept going except that Shawn didn't seem to be responding the way he normally would have. If things were right he would have started throwing in names, trying to one-up Gus. Instead he simply listened without responding.
"Shawn?"
"Huh?" Finally the tired and ill looking man moved and his head turned slowly. "You don't need to feel sorry Gus. I'm not angry."
Gus stared at him, trying to figure out if Shawn was telling the truth but for once he couldn't read the other man. "Okay, if you're sure. You're my best friend Shawn – don't ever forget that."
"Okay", Shawn gave a brief smile and then closed his eyes, looking like he was exhausted and in pain. Gus wanted to curse at himself for even starting this conversation. "Don't worry about anything", he told his friend. "You're tired and – and you need to rest. I'm gonna be here for you cause I want to be, okay?" When the other man didn't respond he stood up. "Right now I'm going to get a nurse and get you some painkillers", he said firmly. Without waiting for an answer he left the room.
As soon as Gus had left Shawn moved – as much as he was able to with all his injuries – and sighed. Everything hurt – but he was almost used to that now. What was worse than the physical pain was the feeling of loss and – depression – that had settled over him. He knew he had to let Gus go so that the other man could find himself and get ahead. He couldn't hold him back any longer.
Gus returned a few moments later, followed almost immediately by one of the nurses. She walked up to Shawn and quickly checked his vitals. "Your friend says you're in need of some pain medication?"
He nodded – not that the pain was any worse now than it normally was, but because the medication would make him sleepy and he'd doze, and then he wouldn't have to deal with Gus anymore.
The Nurse – Irina was her name – quickly injected something into his IV, and then patted his arm and left. After a few short minutes he could feel his eyelids grow heavy and he knew he would soon be asleep.
"I'll just wait here while you rest Shawn."
No – no, please Gus – please leave. But Shawn knew the words were only in his head. He could never actually say them – didn't want to say them, but he had to protect his friend by staying out of his life. A few seconds later he was asleep.
Juliet parked in the hospital parking lot and sat there, unmoving, for the longest time. It's not that she didn't want to see Shawn, but – she was dreading the visit. She wanted to kick herself for even thinking such a thing, but the fact was, each time she'd visited it had grown more and more uncomfortable. Shawn was still feeling terrible – and she felt so badly for him. She hadn't expected him to be his usual self, but what she hadn't expected was the man in the bed who was a complete stranger. The Shawn she knew and – uh cared for – wasn't anything like the serious and quiet man in the hospital.
She kept telling herself that she was being ridiculous, and unfair. Shawn had been hurt terribly and was even now dealing with very serious injuries. How could she expect him to be his usual sunny self when he had to be in pain and he was almost totally immobile? That would be enough to drive anyone crazy, especially someone like Shawn who was a constant ball of energy.
But he wasn't even flirting with her! She knew that was a horrible thing to even be thinking about, but it was so much a part of her relationship with Shawn, that the absence of any hints of flirtation made her feel like he was withdrawing from her.
"Don't be ridiculous", she told herself. "He's hurt. Why would he flirt with you when he feels awful?" Why? Because that's what Shawn did. When things were bad he didn't stop acting like Shawn – no, he acted even more like Shawn. The fact that he wasn't acting that way – and that he was so serious, set up warning bells in her mind.
When she walked into his room it was to see him sitting up – the first time she'd seen him that way since he'd been brought to the hospital. There was also a bit more color in his cheeks, although whether that was because he was getting better, or because of the exertion of moving she didn't know.
"Shawn?" she walked in with a smile on her face. "How are you?" She noticed Henry sitting in the chair beside his son and wondered briefly where Shawn's mother was. He'd been in the hospital for a week now, and still the woman hadn't shown up.
"Hi Detective", he answered softly. "I'm fine."
Juliet wanted to cringe at being called 'detective' by Shawn. Not once had she heard him call her Jules since they'd found him. For some reason that made her feel like crying. She glanced at Henry to see a worried frown on his face. She wasn't the only one, then, who was concerned. "Uh, I brought you something." She lifted the bag in her hands and showed him. "They're double double chocolate fudge brownies – with walnuts. I know how much you like them." She placed the back on his table and stepped back.
She got a smile for that and a soft 'thank you', although she noticed he didn't reach for one of the brownies. She wondered if she should offer to help, since his arms and hands were still bandaged, but when she looked at Henry he shook his head.
"So- you're looking a bit better today." She was pretty sure Shawn must be sick to death of people asking him how he felt, but she really didn't know what else to say. Usually Shawn had no trouble initiating a conversation but now he didn't seem to be able to say more than one or two words at a time.
"Yeah – they told Shawn he could sit up now. In a couple of days he'll be able to get out of bed." Henry was trying to take up the conversation, looking about as comfortable as she felt.
"That's nice." The three of them sat there growing more awkward as the silence continued. Juliet tried to think of something to say. "Uh – we're still looking for Farris. The Chief has made it a priority. Don't worry Shawn – we're going to get him."
"Yeah", he said softly and that was all, although she was pretty sure she could see his body stiffen and everything close off in his face.
As she left the hospital Juliet could feel her throat tighten. She hated what had been done to Shawn – and wanted to be able to help him. She just didn't know how.
"You weren't very chatty", his father said calmly, after O'Hara had left. "Usually you have more to say to Detective O'Hara."
Shawn sighed and looked away. "Sorry", he said finally. "I'm just tired I guess."
Henry's hand moved over and was laid gently on Shawn's shoulder. "I know kiddo. Why don't you just rest? I'll just sit here and read my magazine."
"You don't have to Dad. I'm okay by myself for a while."
"I know but – I want to okay? Let me put your bed back down and then sleep."
Just as Shawn started to doze he turned to his father. "Where's Mom?" He knew she was travelling, but he missed her. For some reason her absence made him feel that no one really cared. He knew it was silly and not true, but there was a darkness in him that he was having trouble getting rid of.
Henry sighed and sat forward, his hand on Shawn's. "She was on a two week safari in Kenya", his father explained again. He knew Shawn knew all this, but wanted to reassure him it wasn't his mother's fault. "We've left messages with the tour company and they said they were going to get in touch with her but it might take a while for her to get back to the city and catch a flight. I expect we'll see her soon." When Shawn did nothing but nod Henry wanted to curse. "Shawn, you know she would have been here instantly if she could. Your Mom loves you so much – she'd do anything for you and I'm sure that when she finds out you were hurt there won't be anything that'll stop her getting here."
"I know", he smiled at his Dad, his eyes drooping and his voice so quiet it was almost impossible for Henry to hear. "It's just – nice – having her – and you."
Shawn waited patiently for the nurse to bring the paper work that would signal it was okay for him to leave. The doctor had given the go ahead – with a long list of instructions – and he was finally being sprung from the hospital.
It's not that he was actually all that anxious to leave. Normally he would try and get out as quickly as possible but this time he figured it was easier to deal with everything right here. The nurses knew how to look after him and it was impersonal and relatively un-embarrassing. Now he'd be dependent on family and friends to do everything for him. He hated that thought.
He was still almost totally immobile, although he had had a few trips around the floor in a wheelchair. With arms and legs broken it was impossible for him to wield crutches, even if the doctor would let him walk, which as yet he wouldn't. He was told he'd get walking casts in a couple of weeks – until then he was either bed or chair bound.
Normally this would have driven him insane but now – nothing really mattered. He knew he was suffering from depression – he refused to admit it was post traumatic stress - even though he'd heard it mentioned a few times in his hearing. He would not let Bill win. He would not let that bastard and what he'd done affect him – no way. He was going to be just fine.
"So Shawn", the doc had looked at his chart and then up at his patient. "I think we can let you go home today – although I'm sure you'll miss the hospital meals." Shawn forced himself to smile at the small joke. "Now, you'll need help so we can only release you if someone is going to take care of you."
"That'd be me", Henry spoke up. His eyes flitted to his son, waiting for the requisite complaints and refusal, but nothing came. He frowned, feeling uneasy. "Uh –he'll be staying at my place."
"Good, good. Now I'm going to make up a schedule for you", he told his patient. "Unfortunately you're going to need some intensive physical therapy to get back into shape. You should also go and see your family doctor as soon as possible. He or she will also want to take those stitches out in a week or so." He'd continued to give a few more instructions, had smiled at Shawn, wished him well and then left.
While waiting for the nurse to come with the paperwork, his dad had helped him get dressed. Not only was it exhausting, it was a humiliating exercise as he realized he could do practically nothing for himself.
He hated this.
"Okay Shawn, we're almost there." Henry kept checking on his son, who seemed to have fallen asleep almost instantly after they left the hospital. He had had to borrow a car from a friend, knowing it would be too hard to get Shawn into his truck, not with his wounds and casts. His face was tight with worry and concern. He didn't know what was up, but the ease with which the kid had accepted having to stay at his father's was odd, to say the least. He glanced at Gus, who was sitting in the passenger seat beside him, and who looked as worried as he felt.
Henry pulled into his driveway and stopped the car. For a moment he just sat, thinking about all that Shawn had been through and telling himself it was perfectly normal for him to be subdued. He was still hurting, Henry knew, even if he didn't say anything. He sighed and rubbed his face. God – why did this have to happen?
"Henry?" Gus' voice gently prodded him that they were back and he had better get his son inside.
"Shawn?" he said gently, reaching over the seat and gently touching his son, who was laid out in the back. "We're home."
"Hmmm?" Shawn's eyes opened, and he looked around, a fleeting appearance of panic on his face. "Where?"
"We're at my place Shawn. Come on, I'll get the wheelchair and we'll get you inside."
By the time Henry and Gus got him into the house Shawn was exhausted and in some pain. He laid down on the couch and was out almost instantly.
"I have to get back Henry", Gus explained while peering down anxiously at his friend. "I have a couple of visits I have to do this afternoon. Call me if you need me for anything."
"Thanks Gus – I will. And don't worry. I have everything under control."
Gus nodded, took one final look at Shawn and headed out the door.
Henry checked that Shawn was still sleeping, tucked a blanket around him and sat down in the chair opposite to simply watch his son.
When the phone rang a few minutes later it startled him and he rushed to pick it up before it woke his sleeping son.
"Hello."
"Henry, it's Maddie. What's going on?" her panicked voice came over the phone in a staccato burst. "The touring company sent a messenger, saying that Shawn had been hurt. Henry – what's going on? Is he okay? What happened?"
"Maddie! God – finally." Before his ex-wife had a chance to respond to that he quickly told her some of what had happened. "He's okay now Mad. We just got home from the hospital a little while ago and he's sleeping."
"Is he really okay Henry? It sounded bad."
"I won't lie", he told her, "it was bad. We almost lost him Maddie." He had to sit down as the reality slowly started to catch up to him. He wiped a hand over his eyes, refusing to admit that the moisture was caused by tears. "He almost didn't make it, but he pulled through and he's going to be okay."
"Really? Is that the truth?" He could hear the sob in Madeleine's voice and could only imagine how difficult this was for her. "Please – I need to know how he really is."
"I'm telling you the truth. He's pretty banged up and he's going to be staying with me for the next few weeks, but the doctor thinks he'll make an almost full recovery."
"Almost? What do you mean by almost?"
"He might have a bit of a limp and he will have some scars, but nothing too bad." Of course Henry didn't say anything about the emotional scars, which he was already afraid were much worse.
"Can I talk to him?"
Looking at his sleeping son, who looked drawn and thin and so very weak, Henry's first reaction was to say no – to let him sleep. On reflection though he knew it would probably be good for Shawn to speak with his mother. "Where are you Maddie?"
"I'm at the Crown Victoria Hotel in Nairobi. I'm arranging a flight out tomorrow morning and I should be in Santa Barbara by Tuesday evening. Please, can I talk to him?"
"Shawn", he gently shook the sleeping man. "Shawn."
"Wha – Dad? What is it?" A bleary looking Shawn glanced around the room as if confused as to where he was.
"It's your mother", Henry said, holding out the phone. "She wants to talk to you."
Shawn immediately brightened up and reached out and clumsily took the phone. "Mom?"
Henry left the room and walked out to the front porch to give Shawn and Maddie some privacy. Today was Sunday, and she'd be here in a couple of days. He'd better get a room ready for her because she'd definitely want to stay here.
It was funny, but he felt a strange mixture of relief and resentment – relief because he knew Maddie would be good for Shawn and would share the responsibility of looking after him. Resentment – well, that was because he was sure Shawn was much happier at the prospect of having his mother here than he was of having his Dad. Henry had long known that Shawn was upset at him for so many things – but he seemed to have a great relationship with his mother. He shook his head, knowing that it was wrong of him to be jealous.
It was just that he loved his son so much – and had almost lost him. He would do anything and everything to make sure Shawn came out of this okay and that he stayed safe. He just hoped that he knew what to do.
There was one thing he did know, and that was as long as that sadist Farris was still loose he would stick close to his son and watch him over him. When Shawn was born he'd taken a vow that he would always work to keep his son safe. It didn't matter that Shawn was a man now – with a life and a career al his own. Nope – he was going to watch out for his son. There was no way in hell that man was ever getting close to Shawn again.
As he turned and headed back into his house he failed to see the car sitting down the street, or the man inside, watching. If he had, he would have realized he was wrong. That man was already close.