Okay, let me start by saying, yes it's been way too long. Sorry about that, I had alot going on and I got stuck on this chapter also. But it's here and done and I'm leaving for the beach soon, yay! So, please enjoy!

Thank you to my magical Beta SilverLuna!

Shawn rested his head on the back of his crossed hands. The downward angle made his aching head pound even more. His eyes tiredly closed. As he felt his body sag, he opened his eyes, he couldn't afford any more resting time. He had used so much effort to get this far, he had to keep going. He lifted his head and straightened his arms, resuming his position on his hands and knees and crawled farther along the wall.

He had eventually regained awareness in the bathroom earlier. He was unable to support himself on his legs; he was barely capable of crawling. He wiped his bleeding hand on the towel that had fallen with the towel rack. Then achingly, had pushed himself up to continue his trek to find a phone.

Shawn braced his shoulder against the wall, swallowing a sob. His fall earlier and the past few minutes of agonizing movement had turned his joint into one fiery throb. At this point, there was nothing that wasn't pained.

Shawn continued with his slow pace. He knew there was a room ahead, a darkened doorway at the end of the hall. He couldn't...his head made it hard to think. He wasn't sure what room he was heading towards, but he knew he could get help, if he could only make it there.

He staggered across the threshold, supporting his weight on his elbows and one knee. His right leg, dragging behind him, painfully made contact with every slide and motion across the floor. His sliced palm burned, so he kept it curled into a loose fist. Sweat obscured his already blurred vision.

He paused for breath, but felt dizzy when he attempted to breath deeper; the effort scared him and seemed to only make him dizzier.

He had to find a phone.

He dragged himself over towards the large piece of furniture in the center of the room, a bed. Halfway there he finally recognized his surroundings. Unbidden memories came to him: climbing into that bed when he was little, scared after a dream. Carrying in a tray of breakfast for Father's Day. Running in to wake Mom and Dad on Christmas Day.

He was in his dad's bedroom. Shawn felt a burst of adrenaline propelling him forward to the bedside. There was a phone on the nightstand, he remembered that. He leaned against the bed, braced himself, and reached his hand up to the nightstand, fumbling around with numb fingers.

His breath sped up, his heartrate quickened, 'NO! Where was it?' He frantically slid his hand across the top of the night table, knocking the book, reading glasses, box of tissues and half a glass of water off the top, his frantic fingers not finding the so needed telephone. A sob burst from between Shawn's panicked lips. Then he remembered. Things had been rearranged, the phone was on the other side of the bed. Shawn's hand slid back to him. The pale, shaking digits, wiped at his mouth. His panic had made him dizzy and sick.

His adrenaline and panic sapping his energy, his body sagging and eyes slipping closed without his consent. He tried to fight the heavy fatigue, he shouldn't linger. It wasn't far...just around the other side...his thought were blanking. His rushed breathing was evening out to hitching sleeping breaths, squeezed through his bruised chest. Shawn fell into a restless and pained sleep.

Henry slammed the door shut, panting, soaked from the rain. He rested against the steering wheel, catching his breath. The trip back in his boat had been harrowing. He was a good driver and had been calm in dealing with the sudden storm, but still visibility had been bad and he was anxious to just make it back quickly and safely.

He had gotten back finally, tied up his boat and raced to his truck, he might has well walked, because he couldn't be more wet. The sky was dark and the thunder roared as the lightening split the sky in half. The world lightened momentarily, then darkened again quickly, making it hard to see as Henry fumbled into the truck.

Henry shivered and stuck the keys in and started the heat. His clothes were plastered to him. He reached into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out. Flipping it open, he noticed he had missed three calls. As he checked the numbers, he hoped it was Shawn calling to confirm for dinner, or even confirm where he was. No, all three calls were from Gus. He frowned. As he set the phone down, it rang, startling him with the shrill musical tone. He flipped it open without looking.

"Hello?" The only thing he heard was lightening crackle down the line. He snapped his phone shut and started the engine.

He pulled out of the parking lot and took off down the highway. He was aware of the slow speed he needed to maintain in order to ensure his own safety but he was annoyed regardless. He just kept going, crawling along, windshield wipers going as fast as they could, while lightening forked the sky and thunder boomed, shaking the loose bolts in the old truck.

Shawn dragged himself awake, 'wake up wake up, it's time to get help.' A pat-pat-pat softly landed on his hand. It was almost a steady little beat against his fingers. His fingers jerked every time he felt the soft impact. He was reminded of building wet sandcastles as a child. He would gather the muddy sand in his hands and let it drip out, plopping down to form strange spires. They had made fantastical castles with their inconsistent shapes. He wondered vaguely if he looked down, whether he would have one of those sand castles resting on him. But, no he wasn't at the beach. He was...where was he?

If he wasn't at the beach, then why could he hear the crash of waves? The rumbling of the shore was echoing in the distance. He dozed until a large crash jolted him awake. His body jerked painfully, feeling like he had received an electric shock. He moaned, and blinked confusedly. He didn't know where he was. He felt scared, but he wasn't even sure why.

He sniffled and wiped his dripping nose. "Hello?" He called, hoping someone was nearby. He whimpered when he tried to move his leg. It hurt! What had happened to it? Had he fallen out of a tree? No, he was inside. Out of his bed? Was that why it was dark? Had he rolled out of bed while sleeping?

Suddenly lightning flashed and he was able to see for a brief second. He had blood on his hand. He felt another drop land against his palm, joining the other smeared red droplets. He frowned, confused, but his nose didn't hurt. Thunder crashes startled him, his head hurt badly, enough that Shawn was dizzy and felt sick from it hurting. Was he sick? He moved his hand and felt a book, something sticking out of the pages, it felt glossy. He held it up trying to see. When the lightening flashed he saw a photo in his hand. It was his dad and him. They were standing, arms around one another. He frowned at it.

He could no longer see the picture with his eyes, but he could with his head. He was thinking hard when a big, long boom of thunder shook the house. He clapped his hands over his ears. It was so loud! He heard himself yelling after the thunder had ended. "DAD! DAD! DADDDDYYY!" He rocked himself back and forth, hands tight over his ears, screaming.

"Shawn? What are you doing in my room?"

Shawn looked up, tears rolling down his face; he swiped at them.

"Dad! You came! I was so scared and I got hurt! Look!"

He pointed at his leg, showing his father his hurts. His dad stood in the dark doorway dispassionately looking down on his distressed son.

"Dad? I think I need a doctor. It really hurts!" Still Henry said nothing. He merely frowned at Shawn.

"Dad, please, say something! Will you help me please? My head hurts so much and my leg..." Shawn cried harder, his nausea overwhelmed him and he puked all down his front, staining his clothes. "Dad? Can you get Mom, then? Please?"

Shawn wiped at his chin, then dragged his wet fingers across the stomach of his shirt, the lightening showing the dark smears across the fabric. Thunder followed and then he could hear his father's voice.

"You haven't told me how many hats are in the room."

Shawn looked up confused.

"What? But Dad, I can't see! It's dark and my head hurts. Daddy please," he whispered, the dark and noise scaring him.

Lightening forked across the sky.

"How many hats, Shawn?"

Shawn began sobbing in earnest. "I don't know, I can't see! My leg hurts! It hurts alot!"

His only reply was a rumbled, "How many hats, Shawn?"

Shawn shook his head. He wiped his eyes and looked back up, his dad was gone. He had left him! He had left him hurt and alone!

"No! DAD! Please come back! I'll count the hats, I will! Please don't leave me alone! It hurts!" Shawn screamed after him. He tried to pull himself up, but couldn't manage, his head made everything spin and he was unsure of which way to go. He crawled towards a door. He kept calling for his dad. He wouldn't leave him, would he?

Shawn pulled the door open, it was so dark.

"Dad, are you there? Please, I'll count the hats, I'll do what you want, just please help me!" He went through the doorway. It was so dark, he stumbled over something and screamed in terror. What was it, what was touching him in the dark? He rolled onto his side, holding his knees close. He lay there and screamed. His dad wasn't coming back for him, he hadn't done well enough. He didn't pass the test. He just wanted his dad.

"Daddy! Daddy, please! I'm sorry! Come back! Daddy!"

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