I don't own Psych

"Dude, they have me on something called Ativan, so much better than the other thing they put me on. That one's supposed to kick in about two weeks but this, this is instant!" Shawn moaned happily. "Gus, buddy, I feel like I'm on an inner tube floating down the lazy river. It's great!"

"It's addictive is what it is," Gus shot back with a frown. He pushed himself in to be closer to the round table before him. He wanted to have a more private conversation with his friend but apparently it was almost impossible. All the other guests had taken the tables hidden in the corners before he'd even shown up. "And you have an addictive personality. Where is your doctor? I need to talk with him."

Shawn reached out quickly to grab onto his friend, shouting out something incomprehensible in his panic at the thought of Gus talking to his doctor. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"You don't need Ativan, Shawn."

Shawn clicked his teeth in irritation. "Maaan how would you know?"

Gus shook his best friend off and promptly fixed his suit before answering slowly. "I'm your best friend, Shawn. I've never seen you have a single anxiety attack, and you've never showed any signs of needing something like this. If anything I should be the one that needs it because I have to deal with you doing stupid things and giving me panic attacks."

"Trust me, Gus. I need it," Shawn admitted reluctantly. He was happy that the medicine worked but it also carried some shame along with it. Why else would it work if he weren't crazy? To him it was painful damning evidence. Yeah, he wanted this as a kid to get out of school projects, but now…now was so different. He ran a hand through his already mussed hair, making it worse. For some reason he'd been far too tired to get up and style it like usual, and by the time he had mustered enough up energy it was time for the day's activities. "Look, don't tell anyone about this okay? I just…it shuts down a part of my brain and I like that, a lot."

"Shawn." The sales rep took time to choose his words – like always – knowing now that they were now on shaky ground. Gus' body was as tense as it had been years ago when he and Shawn would play don't break the ice. It was always on his turn that things went downhill, but he couldn't shy away now that Shawn was giving him a small but rare glimpse at his serious side. "Shawn, shutting off your brain is not what the medications are supposed to do. I don't want you to try to hurt yourself again, but I'm not going to let you substitute therapy for medication so you don't have to face your problems."

"I'm not substituting anything! Although I do plan on substituting Luigi for Bowser next time we play Mario Kart. Besides, it's not all of my brain. It's just the part that got me here in the first place, but it sucks that it wears off so fast and they won't give me anymore afterward. Something about it being recommended to wait a few hours."

"You're becoming addicted," Gus groaned.

"Am not!" Shawn shot back defensively. "If you were floating on the lazy river with me you would understand! Besides, if I have to take this crap I might as well try to enjoy it."

"'Enjoying' medicine is something an addict would say, Shawn."

Shawn slammed a fist down onto their table. "I can't do this with you right now!"

"Fine. Fine Shawn. We won't talk about the super addictive medicine you're abusing," Gus said with a sharp jab. He wasn't going down without a fight, not with something like this. "Instead, let's talk about the medicine you can't possibly abuse."

Shawn snorted and crossed his arms defensively over his chest before leaning back in his chair. "It's stupid. I'm always tired, in fact once you leave I'll probably take a nap." His eyes flit over to his shared room longingly. "Or you could leave early."

"I am not leaving early. Do know how much extra time I have to put in to work now that I have to support Psych without the money we get from solving cases until you get back? I opened my schedule up for you Shawn. I am not leaving early."

"You'll have to keep doing that for a while…" Shawn mumbled quietly.

"Shawn…"

"I…may or may not…be skipping meals and sessions so I can sleep…" He admitted to his friend with shame.

"Shawn…" Gus growled.

"And…I may or may not have received an extended stay for it…"

"Shawn!"

"I'm sorry, okay! I couldn't wake up in time and then when I did wake up to go to group therapy I just fell asleep while listening to everyone talk about their boring lives. Phil needs to just move out of his grandparents' house and stay with his boyfriend instead! I don't know how many times I can listen to him whine about the same thing! It's obvious!" Shawn pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and tried to come down from his sudden outburst. He sighed and focused back to Gus. "Gus, buddy…I can't help it right now. Believe me, I'm trying. This isn't my fault this time!"

Shawn must have looked truly guilty because his best friend's mouth snapped shut, and everything Gus had wanted to say seemed to melt away, taking any frustrated feelings with it. Now, Gus merely stared at his friend who looked so vulnerable now that he stopped their nitpicky argument and took time to really see Shawn.

Gus had come to visit the second day after Shawn arrived. Back when this was a passing joke to Shawn, but now things were getting serious. That day Shawn had looked well groomed as always, but now he apparently didn't have the time of day to even check his hair. If Shawn from just over a week ago could see himself now…

"It's not your fault," Gus agreed with a slight nod. "And until they figure out what's right for you I'll stand by you no matter what."

Shawn laid his head on the table and smiled weakly up at him. "Thanks buddy. Once I'm back on my feet I'll make you some pineapple upside-down cake in celebration of our eternal bromance."

"I could do without that." Gus then sighed and reached over to pull up the robe that threatened to slip down Shawn's shoulder. "You do know Juliet's on her way, right?"

"What!" Shawn snapped into action. He sprung to his feet and dashed for his room to grab his hair supplies. "You couldn't have told me before now?"

"I was too busy worrying about your ass!" Gus shouted over the other visiting guests, granting him a few strange stares.

The fake psychic froze mid-jog, a cat-like grin spreading across his face. He spun around so his rear faced Gus. "Like what you see? Is it as fine as we both know it is? Maybe I should lift the robe so you can get a better look—"

"Shawn!"

Shawn strolled over and pat Gus on the head. "It's okay my very black, very bald friend, I understand that sometimes your love for me cannot be contained. Let it out and continue to obsess over my ass if you feel the need to do so."

"Tch, c'mon son. I'd rather look at Lassiter's ass," Gus retorted, far from thrilled with Shawn's game. He perked up in his chair in embarrassment and looked wide-eyed at his best friend. "I mean—I was making a joke! I'd never—I was trying to say—You know I have a girlfriend, Shawn!" In an attempt at distraction from the awkward conversation he turned towards the door and plastered a fake smile on his face. "Hey Juliet!" Shawn let out a quiet curse and sped towards the bathroom. This time a real smile twitched at Gus' lips. Juliet wouldn't be there for another five minutes, but a sleepy-eyed Spencer knew none the better.

"If you're trying to sabotage both my relationship with my girlfriend and my ability to leave, you're doing spectacular," Shawn spat glaring hard at his confused doctor. It would have been more threatening, but the old teddy bear that was currently being squeezed so hard it threatened to burst just made Shawn look like a pouting child. And the way he sat brooding on the sofa made him look no more adult-like.

"I take it you're referring to what the nurses have been telling me about." The doctor answered. "Drowsiness is a side-effect of both medications you are taking. We discussed this."

"I fell asleep during visiting hours with my girlfriend!" Shawn yelled. "My girlfriend who is a cop and rarely gets time off to see me!"

"I'm sure she—"

The enraged Spencer cut him off to fill in the sentence. "She deserves better than that! I played your game and took these things and now I'm done. I don't want anymore."

"Shawn, I told you about the drowsiness and I told you that you would have to fight through it. You said you would fight it and go to the meetings and the meals."

He was answered with a sneer and icy words. "Why don't you take my pills for me then, doc? Then we'll see how well you do at staying awake when the Sandman is hovering over you, sprinkling his sleepy fairy dust over your balding little doctor head."

Thatcher scratched said balding head and then turned silently to search through his computer. He could feel Shawn's eyes drilling into him, dark, angry, and impatient with him and the rest of the hospital. "I can switch your current depression medication with another."

"No."

"You can try to tough out the side-effects of your current medication for a few more days. That allows us to see if this will be a lasting problem or if it's your body trying to adjust."

"No."

"Become more active in therapy."

"I'm not feelin' the whole 'how does that make you feel?' vibe." Especially since the patients in this hospital seemed more coherent than at Shady Grove, probably because they separated the illnesses into different units.

Better coherency led to asking more than surface questions about his life, harder questions about his life would wake up the part of his brain the meds was quieting, thinking too much led to 'depression' - which he still wasn't convinced his has – and 'depression' led to doing things like trying to jump off a building. No, he didn't need that, and the last thing he needed was his already nosey roommate cranking his nosey level up to full throttle.

"You can refuse treatment and risk potentially sticking around with us for longer."

"Pfft, what? No!" Shawn shouted. "Are those seriously the only options?"

"Well, yes, seeing as you refuse to talk about what might have caused your episode last week. The therapists can't guess what's wrong unless you talk to them and as a doctor I specialize in medicine. Fixing the chemicals in your brain is my job and fixing life problems that may hinder the progress made by fixing those chemicals is a therapist's job. Right now you're not helping anyone help you and that's made treatment options difficult," Thatcher lectured sternly.

He was almost certain Shawn, who'd gone silent, had merely tuned him out for the sake of trying to get his way, but he was surprised to find a contemplative adult sitting on his couch rather than a pouting child. The doctor spoke again, "You understand?"

Shawn nodded slowly with a pained grimace. "C-Can I just stick with the stuff I'm already on?"

"Of course," Thatcher answered gently.

"And can I not get in trouble if I can't wake up in time for breakfast?" The younger man continued in a small voice. "That's been the worst time for me."

"At least make it to the group meeting after that and we have a deal."

"Deal…" Shawn paused and then tried to push further. "But…if I can't make it to that either…"

"No deal. If you don't show up to those meetings I'll limit your phone calls." Shawn gasped loudly and opened his mouth to speak only to flounder about helplessly. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it." Thatcher shrugged. "Goodbye Mr. Spencer, I'll see you on Monday."

This chapter has been done for SO long...like a month or so. Beta'd and everything. Sorry life happened...and then Tumblr...

But hey it's here now! I'm not completely happy with it, but it's here. Tell me what you think? Am I on a satisfying path? Should I change what I'm doing? Let me know. Cuz seriously how insecure do you think I am? Pffft. No seriously tell me. How insecure do you think I am? *If you psych-o's don't know where that is from then something is wrong with you all*