This sucked. Really sucked. Sucked with a capital S and several exclamation points following.

This had to be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Well, no, that was probably just a little bit overdramatic. Getting shot and stuffed in a trunk had probably been worse. In fact, Shawn was pretty sure that there were plenty of things that were just as bad as append-whatever-it-was, but it was getting hard to think about anything worse than his current condition. It was getting hard to think about anything.

Gus was still talking through the little intercom, though Shawn was doing his best to tune him out. He was doing a pretty good job until he heard his name being shouted at him.

"Shawn, come on!"

He looked up to see Gus watching him with concern and possibly a little annoyance.

"What?" he said.

"You weren't answering me," Gus explained. He had finally left the intercom and had come back to lean against the wall of the elevator. Shawn was starting to get sick of the nervous looks Gus kept sending him. They weren't doing anything for his own confidence.

Gus opened his mouth, probably to ask him how he was doing (again), and Shawn quickly said, "So, what was Jules saying?"

Gus frowned but answered. "Apparently, you were right about Martin Price. Buzz caught him running from the maintenance room after the power went out. They arrested him and sent him down to the station an hour ago."

"Good going McNab," Shawn said appreciatively. He'd have to send Buzz a 'Thanks for Catching the Bad Guy' card. "And what do you mean, 'apparently, I was right'? I'm always right."

"Not on the first guess you're not. You usually accuse at least two innocent people before you find whoever actually did it. Not to mention all the inanimate objects, animals and dead people you usually end up accusing."

Shawn opened his mouth but couldn't argue with that. Gus smiled smugly. Jerk.

"Anyway, your dad was looking for us and I guess someone must've guessed that we might be in the elevator. They sent Juliet with one of the repair guys they called in to try and get the intercom working again so she could check whether or not we were here. The guy managed to fix it up and started working on the rest of the elevator controls so they can bring us down."

"Did she say anything about me?" Shawn asked. "Was she worried sick ? Did she call in the cavalry? Are there posters with my face on them spread around the building?"

"She said she's going to find Lassiter and your dad to tell them that she found us."

Shawn frowned slightly. "Oh. Well that's not satisfying at all. You could've lied to me at least."

Silence followed after that, which Gus took full advantage of. "How's your fever?"

"It's a little annoyed with your constant pestering."

"Shawn."

"I'm fine."

Before he could argue, Gus pressed his palm against Shawn's forehead before pulling it back again a few seconds later.

"Your fever doesn't seem to be too much worse anyway," Gus decided.

"Hooray," Shawn said dryly. "Now can we please talk about something else. Or not at all maybe?"

Gus frowned again, but eventually turned away.

The silence made him feel better, at least for a few moments. It was getting way too difficult to concentrate on keeping up a conversation with Gus, keeping his breathing as steady and slow as possible, staying still, and trying to ignore the sporadic pains in his side. Multitasking wasn't exactly his strength. He usually ended up getting focused on one aspect. And right now, everything sort of ended up coming back to the pain.

As much as hospitals annoyed him, being in one would have been pretty nice. He could be comfortable, not to mention unconscious if he was lucky. But no, he was in an elevator, with appendicitis, and he wouldn't be getting out for at least another hour. Shawn wanted to send a call to whoever had planned this particular day out, tell them that it wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for, and maybe ask for a re-do. Going to an amusement park with Gus for a day, and then maybe a movie with Juliet sounded pretty nice. Or maybe he could….

"Shawn?"

He and Gus both looked up at the sound of Henry's voice. Gus quickly leaned over to the call button and pressed it down. "Hi Mr. Spencer," he said.

"Gus, what did you two say to Martin Price that made him practically destroy the elevator controls?"

Shawn almost laughed but decided against it. Of course his dad would figure out that it had been their fault. "We didn't say anything," Shawn said, trying to speak louder so his dad could hear him. "Bad guys just have a natural aversion to handsome psychics. It's a proven fact, Dad."

"Shawn pretty much accused him to his face of organizing the robberies," Gus added.

"Tattletale," Shawn muttered.

"Shawn, what could you possibly have gained from telling him that? You didn't have any-"

"Yeah, yeah, Gus already gave me the whole 'your interrogating skills really need some work' speech," Shawn said, aggravated.

"What? Speak up, I can barely hear you. Get closer to the mike."

"Um." Gus looked back at him and Shawn shook his head. Gus looked torn for a moment before turning back to the intercom. "Shawn's not feeling very well right now. He just wants to sit back."

"Not feeling well? He's sick?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause on the other end that made Shawn nervous. He wasn't a fan of long pauses from his father. They usually ended with being grounded or, in this decade, yelled at. "How sick?" he eventually asked.

"Not too-"

"Gus."

"Well." Gus bit his lip for a moment before saying, very quickly, "I'm not sure, but I think he's got appendicitis."

"Gus!" Shawn groaned. Gus shrugged apologetically and Shawn glared. Admittedly, Henry had never had much trouble getting answers out of Gus, so it shouldn't have surprised him. But he had thought that Gus would've lasted a little longer under the Henry Spencer Interrogation, seeing as his father wasn't even in the room with them.

"Appendi-" Henry blurted. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Well, like I said, I'm not sure, but all the symptoms fit."

"He's in that much pain right now?"

"For a while now, so if we could keep hurrying up on that whole getting us out of here plan, that would be great, thanks," Shawn spoke up.

"Shawn, what the hell were you thinking coming down here when you're that sick?" Henry demanded. "Why didn't you say something when I called you? Or when you got down here this morning?"

"He was in denial," Gus answered for him.

"Was not," Shawn muttered.

"He might still be in denial," Gus corrected. "Plus he wanted the paycheck from the case. We're kind of broke. Or Shawn is at least."

There was a pause on the other end and Shawn had a strong suspicion that Henry was pinching the bridge of his nose, grinding his teeth, or acting out some other sign of frustration that Shawn had gotten so accustomed to.

"Only you could have appendicitis and get trapped in an elevator on the same day," Henry muttered. "Are you sure you're going to be okay until the elevator's fixed?"

"Positive," Shawn replied. "I'll be fine. Gus and I just have to come up with some way to pass the time."

"Alright," Henry sighed. "See you in an hour or so."

Gus let go of the call button and sat back down across from Shawn. "So what are we going to do for an hour?" he asked.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," Shawn answered tiredly.

Gus thought for a moment. "Was the present you got me for my 10th birthday really stolen by vultures, or did you just forget to buy me one?"

"Neither. I blew all my money on the soundtrack to Footloose for you and ended up keeping it for myself."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Figures."

They had been playing Truth or Dare for what seemed like forever. Shawn's nerves were practically stretched to the breaking point between his boredom, lack of movement, the small space, and the pain. Even Gus was starting to fall asleep. His eyes would droop for a few seconds and his head would dip forward before he jerked himself back up and tried to look like nothing had changed.

"Truth or Dare?" Shawn asked.

'Truth."

"Really? Come on, pick dare. All we've done is truths."

"Yeah, because I can't dare you to do anything without having to make you move, and there's no way I'm accepting a dare from you. I've had too much experience with your dares. I still can't walk by Mrs. Spaulding's house."

"I doubt she still remembers you peeing in her yard. She was an old lady when we were kids. The only things she probably remembers now are where she keeps her oatmeal and the names of her cats."

"You made me pee in her yard. I don't even know why I did it. She still glares at me whenever I see her, Shawn."

Shawn laughed before stopping suddenly with a hand pressed to his side. He bent his head forward a little bit and breathed deeply. "Damn it," he grumbled.

"How bad?"

"Worse than having a porcupine pelted at my stomach like a snowball, but a little better than being attacked there viciously by a rabid raccoon with really sharp claws and teeth."

"So… around a 7?" Gus guessed.

Shawn groaned. "More like an 8.5."

They lapsed back into silence. Gus's eyes closed and his head drooped down for a full five minutes before coming back up again with a sudden jolt. Shawn held back the laughter this time and just smirked slightly.

"So, what now?" Gus mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Want to play 'would you rather'?"

"Sure. Go ahead," Shawn said.

"Alright, would you rather be double-jointed or always win at Twister?"

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "What kind of a question is that? It's double-jointed, obviously. That would probably help me win at Twister anyway."

"Fine, you come up with one," Gus suggested.

"Gladly. Would you rather have Funkytown be the only song you could listen to for the rest of your life, or change your last name to PumpyMcLover?"

Gus shook his head. "I hate you so much. These are almost as bad as your dares. "

"Come on, you have to answer."

"Fine. I pick Funkytown."

"Seriously?"

"There's no way my clients would take me seriously if my name was Burton PumpyMcLover. So yes, I'll take Lipps Inc. over that name. "

Shawn leaned forward, prepared to argue more, before he stopped, falling back. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. His side was burning. Shawn dug his fingernails into his pants legs, hard, for several seconds before his grip lessened as the pain went down again. He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes to see Gus watching him with concern.

" 'm fine," Shawn muttered. Gus nodded slightly and leaned back against the wall.

Neither of them said anything else. They didn't feel like playing anymore.

Shawn was starting to have flashbacks to when he and Gus were in middle school and had to serve detention with Mr. Corliss. Shawn had convinced Gus to sneak into the school kitchen with him and try and find the 'good food' that he knew they were 'hiding'. They had found several liters of soda in the fridge, and also managed to swipe the Wendy's burgers that the people working in the kitchen had bought for their own lunch. It was probably the best school lunch they had that year, but they also managed to get two weeks of detention, which Shawn had declared 'cruel and unusual punishment'.

Those two weeks were spent under the watchful eye of Mr. Matthew Corliss. Mr. Corliss was their history teacher, who regularly put Shawn to sleep during class, and was also one of the stricter teachers in the school. During their daily hour of detention after school, he wouldn't let Shawn and Gus speak, get up, do homework or do absolutely anything besides sit in their desks and stare at the walls until four o'clock. It had been the dullest, most mind-numbing thing that Shawn had ever went through.

Now, he was starting to miss it.

Shawn had no idea how long they'd been stuck, and wasn't in the mood to check his watch or ask Gus. Forever seemed like a close guess though. He and Gus had finally given up on conversation. Shawn was spending his time with his eyes closed, trying to keep his breathing steady and trying not to move his body. Every now and again, pain would shoot up from his stomach as he involuntarily moved something. His breathing would hitch, his fingers would claw into the floor or his leg, and he'd wait it out. There was nothing else he could do.

Shawn peaked one eye open every now and again to watch Gus tapping his fingers against the wall. He was stretched out almost completely along the floor of the elevator. Sometimes, he'd look over at Shawn for a little while forlornly, then return to staring at the ceiling, the floor, or most often, the doors. He seemed to want to open them with his mind. Maybe Gus had been watching too much Star Trek. Or maybe he was just being hopeful.

"Spencer? Guster? Is this thing working?"

Gus practically lunged for the call button at the sound. "Lassiter? What's taking so long?"

"Oh, hold your horses, Guster," Lassiter said. He sounded like he'd been hassled a lot that day. "There are men working hard out here to try and get you two out of this mess you've made. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get an elevator running after it's control wiring has been completely dismantled?"

"No, and at this point, I don't really care. Can you just get us out of here?" Gus said snappily. Lassiter didn't say anything, either because of annoyance or surprise. "Please?" Gus added as an afterthought.

"Hmph." Lassiter muttered something to someone in the room with him before speaking to them again. "You've got another five minutes or so while they do another quick check in here, but it's pretty much fixed." Gus breathed a sigh of relief, and Shawn almost joined him. They wouldn't have to stay in there for much longer.

"So, how sick is Spencer, really?" Lassiter asked. "Is it legitimate, or does he just have a cough and a tummy ache?"

Gus's eyebrows narrowed. "He's sick. We need to take him to the hospital as soon as we get out of here before his appendix bursts. If it is appendicitis, anyway."

If it wasn't appendicitis, Shawn wanted to know what other disease he could possibly have that caused this kind of-

Wait a second. Did Gus say-

"Bursts? Gus, did you just say bursts?" Shawn croaked. "Like, my stomach's going to blow up?"

"Your appendix, not your stomach," Gus corrected. "And it doesn't blow up, it just…well yeah, it kind of blows up. But you'll be fine, Shawn."

"Not if I blow up!" Shawn protested weakly. "I was born with a bomb in my intestines. That is so not fair, even if it is kind of cool."

"You're not going to blow up, Shawn. It's just going to burst if they don't remove-"

"Are you two finished bickering?" Lassiter interrupted.

"Lassie, can we get this thing running again before I burst? I'm sure Gus doesn't want to see my insides all over the walls," Shawn said.

"Hm. Your father's right, you don't sound good," Lassiter mused. Shawn heard someone who sounded suspiciously like Juliet on the other end saying something to Lassiter. He thought he caught the word 'ambulance'.

"We can drive him to the hospital just as fast," he heard Lassiter argue. "Guster, is he going to need paramedics here immediately, or can he wait?"

Gus looked back at him carefully. Shawn gave a weak smile, which he knew had to look like a grimace.

"I can make it," Shawn said.

"We'll just drive him," Gus said. "But taking a police car would probably be a good idea."

"I can drive him," Lassiter and Juliet (who had apparently gotten closer to the microphone) said together.

"Fine, she can," Lassiter amended quickly. Shawn smiled. The detective was probably blushing for volunteering to drive one of his least favorite people (or so he claimed) to the hospital.

"Your car would probably be better, there's more space," Juliet pointed out. "How are you doing, Shawn?" she asked worriedly.

Shawn was ready to nobly declare that he was a trooper and could handle a little thing like a stomachache, even though he probably just would have ended up groaning instead, when he faintly heard someone speaking to the detectives on the other end. At the same time, the emergency light was replaced by the normally bright light of the elevator.

"Finally," Juliet sighed. "Shawn, Gus, they're going to send the elevator down now. Get ready, because it might be a little surprising when it-"

Her warning was cut short with Lassiter shouting, "Hold on!" Before Shawn could figure out if he was shouting at the technician or them, the elevator started to drop. Quickly.

Gus screamed. To be honest, Shawn probably did too. He saw Gus clutch at the handrail before Shawn was pinching his eyes shut. The jarring stop that the elevator performed a second later threw him forward.

Shawn definitely screamed that time, curling up into the fetal position and holding his side. It was the most he'd moved in nearly two hours and it did not feel good. He almost opened his eyes to check whether or not his stomach was bleeding or on fire, because there was no way that it could feel this bad and still look normal. He waited until the blood stopped pounding in his ears and he could actually hear again.

"Damn it, watch the wiring!" Lassiter was shouting at someone. "You're not trying to slam the goddamn elevator into the ground!"

"Shawn?" Gus asked quietly. "Shawn? Are you-"

Shawn shook his head lightly, just barely moving his neck.

"Does it feel like it burst?"

Shawn shook his head again. "Just hurts," he muttered. "Can we just go down? Please?"

He heard Gus speaking quietly with Lassiter and Juliet through the microphone. He just concentrated on breathing. Slowly, the pain faded again until it was the dull ache that he had become so used to. He knew moving back against the wall wouldn't hurt as much as coming away from it had, but he didn't want to risk it.

Gus crawled back over next to him. "They're going to start bringing us down again. Lassiter says they fixed it and that it's going to work this time. Juliet's going to meet us downstairs with your dad."

"Lassiter better be right," Shawn said quietly.

"Of course I am."

"How did he even hear that?" Shawn whispered.

The elevator dropped again and Shawn tensed, but it was much slower now, going down at normal speed. He released a breath he'd been holding and smiled.

"I was just starting to like it in here," Shawn said. Gus snorted but he was already standing by the door, bouncing up and down on his toes, obviously ready to get out of the elevator as fast as he could.

The elevator came to a slow, steady halt which barely moved Shawn. He winced once but managed to pull himself together as the doors opened, revealing Juliet, Henry, and a group of police officers, all looking very concerned. Shawn smiled weakly at them.

"If you'll excuse me ladies and gentleman, I need to go have an organ removed."

A/N: So, huh. One of my new year's resolutions this year was to finish up my unfinished fics, primarily this one. I am so sorry for the wait for this you guys, this was just plain unreasonable. However, this was always only going to be a five part story, so I can promise you that the last chapter of this will be up SOON. Like within a few days and definitely within a week. And that is an absolute promise, you can hold me to it.