Things didn't get any better over the next few days. Shawn didn't shout at me like that again, and he never mentioned dying again, but he was still sullen and depressed.
I just didn't know what else to do anymore.
I got my answer a few days later.
Apparently, I didn't have to anything.
I was coming up to his room after spending eight hours catching up on my route. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but I couldn't go home before I stopped in to see Shawn, whether he admitted he wanted me there or not. I stopped just outside his room when I heard another voice inside.
It was Juliet.
I wasn't shocked to find her there. She had seen him almost every day, when she could get away from Lassiter and the department long enough to visit. I'd tried not to notice that he was never quite as short with her as he was with Henry and me.
"How are you feeling?" she was asking, so I knew she hadn't been there long.
I don't know why, but I didn't go in the room. I stood just outside, out of view, listening to the conversation.
I could see Shawn in the bed through the crack between the hinge and the door. He was sitting up, looking slightly less pale than he had been over the last few days. Juliet was sitting next to him, her hand resting gently on his cast.
He just shrugged, not answering for a full minute.
"I'm fine," he said finally, not convincing even himself of this.
"How's the pain?" she pressed on, looking into his eyes, deeply concerned.
Shawn returned the look, then closed his eyes and settled back into the pillow.
"It hurts like hell, Jules. I can't take it anymore."
"I know," she whispered, her hand traveling up his leg and softly settling on his thigh. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."
"There isn't," he shook his head, opening his eyes again. "It's not getting any better. I can walk, I can move…but it's so damn hard and it just…hurts. Every inch of my body every second of every day."
"I'm sorry, Shawn. It's going to get better."
"I don't want it to get better, Jules," he mumbled, sitting up again. "I just want it to stop. Now. I want to go back in time and stop Gus from finding me."
She gasped, her eyes growing wide at the thought. "Shawn!" she snapped, smacking his arm in a gesture that was both angry and sympathetic. "Don't talk like that!"
"Why not?" he demanded. "It'd be better than this. I can't do anything! I can't ride my bike, which is destroyed anyway. I can't work on cases. I can't even walk down the hallway and back again without blacking out."
"It's not better, Shawn!" she actually shouted, her cheeks flushing. "Do you have any idea what it was like when I thought you were dead?"
She stopped, her eyes suddenly glistening just a little.
She didn't cry. She was too strong for that…but the tears were waiting somewhere inside, ready to come out the second her strength finally cracked.
"Do you have any idea what it was like when I saw your bike at that scene?"
Shawn didn't have an immediate response to that. He settled back into the pillow again, his eyes not leaving her for moment.
"The kid didn't care what it did to you, Jules," he said quietly. "The kid didn't give a crap if I died. He just…left me there. I wasn't even worth a 9-1-1 call. It's three numbers, Jules."
"I'm not the kid, Shawn." She said firmly. "Gus and your dad aren't the kid. We went through Hell looking for you, and if I ever hear you say you wish we didn't find you again, I'll smack you. Hard."
Shawn laughed. "Fine. I won't say it."
She smiled at him, her hand finding his good knee. "Don't even think it. I don't even want to think about it."
"I won't," he promised, and I could tell he meant it.
I turned around and slowly started back down the hall.
I didn't know what to think at this point, what to feel.
She had told him everything I had tried to tell him, and he'd actually listened to her. He hadn't listened to me since the accident.
I wasn't mad at her for that, of course. How could I be? She was there for him just as much as I was. She always had been. He needed her.
I just wasn't used to not being the only voice of reason Spencers would sometimes listen to.