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Until next time...
Psych
Pain was the first thing he registered when awareness returned to him. His head felt like it had parted with his body, after an elephant had stepped on it. Feeling and sound came next. Someone was violently shaking him, the motion making him sick. A feminine voice kept saying, "Wake up. Wake up, damn it."
Shawn tried, he really did, but his eyelids had been glued shut by some evil, stupid, pineapple hating asshole. Why did they hate pineapple? Because anyone who loved it would never treat a fellow pineapple-lover like this.
"Stop." Shawn managed to choke out, very much aware of the fact that the one word sounded more like a groan than English. His mouth felt as if it were full of cotton. The same pineapple hater must have stuffed his mouth with the cottony-evilness that was cotton.
"Then wake up," the voice said giving him another, much harder shove. As his hip slammed into something solid, his eyes flew open.
His vision was blurry, a fuzzy silhouette stood over him. He was laying against something soft, something warm and sticky was running down the side of his face. Somewhere to the right of him, a cool breeze blew past making him shiver despite the jacket he was wearing. He tried to remember what had happened, how he had gotten here, but for the life of him he couldn't. Eidetic memory and he couldn't remember how he had gotten hurt. How poetic was that?
"Shawn?" the female voice said again, coming from the silhouette.
"Jules?" he whispered as his vision slowly slipped back into focus.
"No lover boy," the girl replied just as Lindsay came into crystal, clear focus. With her face came a flood of memories from the past few hours causing Shawn's head to give a nasty throb of pain.
"Y...you crashed the car," he muttered trying to sit up. Moving sent a wave of nausea through him, everything he had eaten in the past twenty-four hours threatening to make a second, unwanted appearance.
"Yeah," Lindsay responded simply, wincing when she moved too quickly. She looked behind her, her eyes widening at the sight, and met the faux-psychic's eyes. "Can you walk?"
"What?"
"Can you walk?" Lindsay repeated slower. "Because we've got to go." without waiting for Shawn to answer, she grabbed his arm and started trying to pull him from the car.
Pain exploded behind Shawn's eyelids, black dots took over his vision, everything was going grey. The last thing Shawn felt before blacking completely out was his body hitting the ground.
Psych
Juliet was hunched over her desk, fingers flying over her keyboard, trying to find any type of loophole that would get them their lab results faster. A phone rang somewhere in the distance, probably just the hospital updating Vick about Steinberg's condition. He had still been in surgery when she and Carlton left the hospital. The doctors weren't one-hundred percent hopeful he was going to make it. At the moment she was too focused on figuring out if any of that blood was Shawn's to care. She would let herself care when she knew Shawn had not been held captive in that house.
"O'Hara," a voice said getting her attention. She looked up from her compute screen, meeting Lassiter's blue eyes. She caught a flicker of worry behind those eyes before it was gone. Something was wrong.
"Yeah, Carlton?"
"The hospital just called."
"Is it Steinberg?" play dumb, don't let him see you're worried. It can't be Shawn, he's fine.
"No. He's still in surgery."
"Then what?" oh God, don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him.
"They found Spencer..."
The car ride to the hospital was almost silent, save for the crackle of Lassiter's police radio. Juliet could feel her heart thudding against her chest, she had to cross her arms to stop them from shaking. That and to avoid the ring on her finger. The one Gus swore Shawn spent a good chunk of change on. It looked more like something he got for a quarter in one of those machines... or a prize from a Cracker Jack box. Regardless, he had given it to her when she had agreed to his proposal. He had promised they would be together forever, that they would start a family, that he would actually settle down in one house and not move her all over the place. She couldn't be reminded of those promises, not until she knew he was going to be okay.
Carlton parked long enough to let Juliet out. As he drove toward the parking lot to park, she sprinted into the hospital. The place was buzzing with people, a lot waiting for an ER doctor to check them over. The resident nurse was just handing a clipboard over to a man whose hand was bleeding when Juliet ran over to her and said, "S... Shawn Spencer?"
"Excuse me," the nurse-her tag reading M. Pierson-said giving Juliet a suspicious look.
"Is Shawn Spencer...?"
"Detective O'Hara?" a familiar voice said getting Juliet's attention. The Junior Detective turned, eyes catching a red headed doctor maneuvering her way through the crowded waiting room to Jules' side.
"Dr. Reynard." Juliet had met the doctor when Shawn had lost his memory. She had worked on him, Carlton,and Vick during the exact same case. Jules had gotten to know her since then, Shawn having ended up in the ER several times.
"Are you here for Shawn?" the doctor asked when she was within a few feet of the detective.
"Yeah, is he...? How is...? Where is he?" she looked around, expecting to see him heading toward her, a huge grin on his face, trying to convince her he was just fine.
"He's this way... Detective Lassiter, you're here, too?" Juliet spared a glance behind her, noticing her partner approaching them. He managed a half-smile, but nothing more. Reynard returned the greeting with a nod and led the two detectives away from the noisy and crowded waiting area and down a much quieter hallway.
"What's going on?" Lassiter asked indicating the packed ER behind them.
"That was a typical Friday night at the hospital, Detective," Reynard replied approaching a curtained off cubical. She pulled it aside, letting both detectives enter before following them.
Shawn was hooked up to an IV, a clear bag of saline sitting above him. He was paper white, a bandaged gash covering the right side of his head. He was covered with a blanket, his eyes closed and chest rising and falling in sleep or unconsciousness. Juliet couldn't be sure.
"He was found on the side of the road by an older couple. It appeared he had fallen out of an abandoned car's passenger seat, whoever had been driving was long gone. The car, I hear, had collided with a tree. Was he with Gus?" Reynard was all to familiar with Gus, both from the many visits to the hospital and his other job as a pharmaceuticals salesman.
"No, we aren't sure who he was with," Carlton replied slowly.
"You mean he was...?" Reynard trailed off, her eyes widening.
"We can't be sure," was all Lassiter said. They weren't supposed to discuss an ongoing investigation with the public. For fear that a reporter could get a hold of the information. It had happened before, Internal Affairs would like to avoid a second incident like that.
"Is he going to be okay?" Juliet blurted out taking Shawn's hand between hers.
"He suffered a mild concussion and a bullet wound..."
"He what?" a voice exclaimed, Henry Spencer pushing past Lassiter to get inside Shawn's cubical. Jules hadn't even remembered telling Henry about Shawn, figuring Carlton or Vick had broken the news. She wasn't even sure how Shawn's father found them, unless he was following them.
"The bullet had entered his calf, hadn't gone too deep. He won't need surgery and should be up and about in no time. He'll have a headache, and probably an aversion to loud noises and bright lights for a few days. But Mr. Spencer is going to be just fine."
"Then why is he unconscious?" Henry asked taking his post on the other side of Shawn's bed.
"Just a mild sedative. He should be awake by the time we get him his own room."
Carlton's phone rang, cutting off any other comments. He checked the id before stepping out of the curtained cubical. "Lassiter," he said as he trekked down the hallway.
"So, he's going to be okay?" Juliet had to be sure, had to know she wasn't about to lose him.
"He's going to be fine, Detective O'Hara." Reynard reassured her again and quietly left, leaving Henry and Juliet alone with Shawn.
Jules made to open her mouth, say anything to break the awkward silence between them, but was interrupted by Carlton sticking his head inside the cubical and saying, "Steinberg's out of surgery and awake."
Psych
Lassiter entered the small room first, Juliet behind him. He looked around, noticing the bright, white walls, too clean smell, and machinery that goes with being in a hospital. Steinberg laid in his bed, heavy lidded eyes following their movements, a nasal canal in his nose. He was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. No doubt other things were hooked to him as well, but Carlton didn't want to dwell on those just now; if ever.
"How are you doing, Steinberg?" Lassiter asked stopping short of the detective's bed.
"B...bad question L...Lassiter," Steinberg replied wincing when he tried to sit up. He gave it up as a bad job, sticking to laying down despite how uncomfortable he felt.
"Walt, who did this to you?" Carlton waited a few seconds for an answer. "You can identify them, right?"
"Yeah," the blond detective replied nodding slowly, his eyelids starting to slip closed.
"Who? Who did it?" O'Hara asked giving the detective an expectant look.
"S...Spencer..."
Psych
GASP! Why would he do that? Tune in next chapter to find out... Jeez, I just sounded like one of those cheesy voice-over guys. What have I become? :P Just kidding.
See ya next chapter.