Only the Curious Have Something to Find

Chapter 14

Note: Hello, my chick-a-dees! Excited for another chapter? Me too! And sorry, I know I said I was gonna update this weekend but I literally spent all my time knitting and watching my Psych DVDs. But it's here now!

Enjoy!

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"What do you mean, he's got a boyfriend?? Why was I not informed??" Lowell prefers- to-be-called-Lawrence Spencer demanded as he set his always-ready duffel bag in the guestroom.

"Because it happened with in the past month, pa. And you were in Batavia until last week, didn't want to interrupt your special art show or whatever."

Lawrence just blinked, "For your information it was an art and sculpting festival, and anyway I still expect to be informed."

Henry shook his head, "God, you and Shawn are so alike it's ridiculous."

"I don't know if I'm insulted or not." The eldest Spencer said cautiously, before breaking out into a grin once more. "But, to the present, what's his boyfriend like? Is he nice? Good looking? How'd they meet?"

"Jesus, dad. Want to breath in between sentences? And anyway, yes he's a nice kid, I have no idea if he's good looking or not, and they met when he rescued Shawn from getting beat up by three little fucks."

"For a second I thought you were gonna say three little ducklings – wait beat up? What the hell was going on?"

"Shawn saw three kids beating a friend of his senseless and he warned the principle, they found out and ganged up on him. All but broke his wrist."

Lawrence's eyes flashed, "Those little fucks!"

"My thoughts exactly." Henry said shaking his head, laughing humorlessly for no reason. He glanced towards the window, "God, what's taking them so long?"

"He's with him right now??" The eighty-four year old rushed to the window, cracking the curtain open a bit. "Is that them?" Henry sauntered over to his father and peeked out the window.

"Yea, that looks like them."

"They're holding hands!" Lawrence laughed, "Lord, that's pretty cute, you have to admit."

Henry smiled, a little absent-mindedly. "Yea…real cute." As the two hit the porch Henry took a step back, wanting to give the two a little privacy, apparently his father had no intention of following suit. "Dad, c'mon. Give them their privacy."

"You kiddin' me? They're gonna make out for sure! I ain't missing this!"

Henry just stared for a moment, "You know, that's border-line pedophilia, right? I could arrest you."

"Piss off, son." Was all Lawrence said in response. At that Henry just walked to the guestroom because he didn't want his father to see how hard he was trying not to laugh. He began to put his father's things into the empty drawers when he heard a loud gasp followed by a quiet 'Awww!'

"Dad, what are you doing?" He asked, walking back into the living room.

"The better question is what are they doing." Lawrence guffawed as he stepped away from the window. "Told you they'd make out."

Henry shook his head, not wanting to show his father how much he agreed that Shawn and Lassiter were adorable. "You're kind of creepy, you just better hope Shawn never finds out about this little problem of yours."

The senior Spencer didn't get a chance to respond as the front door opened. The older father and son turned as Shawn walked through the door, a glow to his face...one that certainly hadn't been there less than half an hour ago.

"Shawnie!" Lawrence cried happily, as if he hadn't just been snooping on his grandson.

"Grandpa!" Shawn cried, his smile brightening. "When did you get here?" He asked as he stepped forward and hugged the oldest man.

"Oh, a few minutes ago. Where were you?"

Henry could not believe how sneaky his father was. How he could so innocently ask a question he shouldn't have but did know the answer to. He really knew where Shawn got it from now.

"Well," Shawn started, his smile still there. He reached out onto the porch and pulled Lassiter forward. The teen looked a little awkward but his eyes were shining as bright as a Christmas tree. "G-pops, this is my boyfriend. Carlton Lassiter."

The smile played across Lassiter's lips now at being addressed as a boyfriend. He stuck his hand out and shook Lawrence's heartily. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Again, with the sir." Henry said, throwing up his arms as his father grinned.

"Call me grandpa! Or Lawrence. Or whatever the hell you want as long as it ain't Lowell."

"What about Grandpa Bowels?"

"That wasn't funny last Easter and it ain't funny now, Shawnie." Lawrence said seriously, although his eyes were laughing.

When Lawrence turned to shut the door Lassiter turned to his boyfriend and with raised eyebrows and a grin he mouthed 'Shawnie?' to which Shawn just grinned and shook his head.

Henry rolled his eyes and, fighting a smile, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, now that introductions are over with, does anyone want something to eat? Have you eaten yet, Carlton?"

"Oh, no, but I don't want to impose, Mr. Spencer."

"Nonsense!" Henry and Shawn cried at once. "We have pie, if you want some." Shawn continued, "Or we still have some ice cream from last night."

"Wow, was that last night?" Lassiter asked quietly as Shawn led him into the kitchen.

Lagging behind Lawrence asked his own son, "What happened last night?" He asked it a little cautiously, obviously aware that it was something serious.

Henry bit his lip before slowly answering, a look Lawrence knew and dreaded flashing on his face. "I'll tell you later."

--

Shawn blinked as blood trickled down into his half-open eyes as he tried to stare down at his shaking, bloodied hands. His whole body ached, his head in particular. It was so hard to open his eyes once they were closed, he was just tired… so tired…

"Open your eyes, heathen!" His eyes shot open as a voice screamed in his ear.

He wanted to sleep, he wanted to cry, he wanted to his dad. "My…my dad…" He managed to croak out.

"It's too late for you, demon. He can not help you. Only I can. Your soul is lost, but I can help you repent." There was a pause and Shawn almost sobbed at the wet sound of his own breathing and the panic that was rushing through him. "It'll all be over soon, don't worry…" The familiar voice whispered, almost lovingly.

Then the pain shot through his whole body once more. With the last bit of strength he had, given to him by a burst of adrenaline, he threw back his head and let out a loud, blood-curdling scream.

Shawn's eyes shot open, his heart racing and his brow covered in sweat. He tried to think of something other than the images that had just attacked his mind. Scrunching his eyes closed, he thought back to a few hours prior, when he and Lassiter had been on the couch watching a re-run of a Johnny Depp movie. Lassiter's arm had been around him and Shawn had been resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Their feet had been propped up on the table, next to dirty plates that had had pie on them not ten minutes prior to that moment.

With that happy thought in mind Shawn took a deep breath, but when his nose was attacked with the stench of blood his eyes shot back open and he bolted up, eyes darting across the room. Just the residue, he thought to himself. But the thought didn't comfort him as it had meant to. The only thing it succeeded in doing was reminding him that these dreams were most likely visions. That he was going to…he couldn't even think the word.

Torture.

Shawn shook his head and threw the covers back, making his way to the door. He glanced at the zip-up sweatshirt Lassiter had 'accidentally' left behind that rested on the chair by his door. Without a thought he grabbed it and slipped it on over his t-shirt. The scent of his boyfriend filled his nostrils, a much more welcome scent than that of his own blood.

He quietly made his way down the steps, glancing at the half-open door of the guestroom that resided not far from the stairs as he hit the ground floor. He walked to the porch door and as he slowly opened the door, so to prevent any noise, he reached over and flipped on the porch light. Closing the door quietly behind him he settled down on one of the wicker chairs and wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

He looked out into the darkness, staring at the visible ocean as the moonlight danced across the slow, rippling waves. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of salty seawater and Lassiter.

He sighed, feeling happy and distressed in the same moment. His life was going amazingly. He had two great new friends, one whom he was madly in love with (and, by some grace of God, loved him back). He and his father's relationship was better than ever, as was his and Gus's. Despite the recent dramatic incidents, his school life was going well. And he had this amazing view. But he couldn't let himself fall completely into happiness. Not with this feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Something was coming. Something big.

He just wished he knew what, or more so why, it was. He just couldn't shake it, this feeling of dread. And he couldn't help but wonder, was it all in his head? Literally, of course it was. But in this non-reality that was his life, it could be the coming future. Well, no…

It was the coming future.

He knew it, no matter how badly he wanted to deny it. The residue, the inability to sleep, the repetitiveness of the dreams, everything, it all pointed to one thing: they were visions. He had to tell his father, he knew. They needed to figure it out, like they always figured out his visions together. But he just…he couldn't bring himself to tell his father of these dreams that he'd been having for months now (yes, months). Especially not after the previous night. The way his father had looked so horrifically torn with worry and anguish. The way he had cried as soon as he saw his son, as soon as he touched him.

It would destroy his father if he told him. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it.

"Shawn?" Shawn jumped as the voice invaded his thoughts. He turned to his grandfather. "Didn't hear me coming?" The older man asked as he sat beside his grandson on one of the other wicker chairs. Shawn shook his head. The two sat in silence for a moment, both staring out at the ocean, when finally Lawrence spoke again.

"You know, Shawn," The grandson glanced at the elder, intrigued, "The ocean is an amazing thing. It's like…the diary of the world. Those waves," He pointed out and Shawn turned to once again watch the slow, methodical movement of the water. "They've been all around the world. Brushing on the beaches of Japan yesterday, and now they're here. Washing up on the beach, telling us the story of so many places it's been, and so many places it'll go. To San Francisco, to Miami, to Spain…down the drain of some girl's shower as she washes the salt water out of her hair." He grinned and glanced at Shawn as he smiled, looking down at his feet.

"That water has seen everything, it remembers everything…just like the mind of a certain grandson of mine." Shawn's eyes widened a little as he glanced over at his grandfather. "Don't give me that look. I can tell something's up. You're tired, and…you've got that look. Your eyes give you away. I haven't seen that look in your eye since you were six and you didn't want to tell me that you kept having visions of my dog dying." Lawrence leaned forward, trying to catch Shawn's eye but he wouldn't meet them. "C'mon kiddo, can you tell me what it is? What have you been seeing?"

Shawn bit his lip, looking down at his hands. The image of his own bloodied hands seen through his blood-covered eyelids flashed through his mind and he scrunched his eyes shut. With his voice shaking, he took a deep breath and whispered, "I…I can't tell you, grandpa." He opened his eyes and looked up to his grandfather's eyes, fighting off the sudden urge to cry. "I'm sorry. I can't."

--

Shawn sat in a similar position that he had been siting the previous day at the lunch table, his head on his arms as Lassiter stroked his hair. But today he didn't have to worry about freaking out his friends if he drifted off and dreamed. Well, he would freak them out, but he wouldn't have to worry about explaining it, now.

He was barely focused on Gus and Lassiter's conversation about Lowell Lawrence Spencer until Juliet spoke up. "Hey, guys, that reminds me. My family is having a party next weekend, and Karen is inviting her boyfriend so my mom said I could invite you guys if you want to come. Do you?"

Gus immediately responded with an emphatic yes, while Lassiter laughed a little awkwardly, "Your, uh, your cousin Annie…is she gonna be there?"

Shawn picked up his head at that. "Who's Annie?"

Juliet seemed to be trying to suppress hysterical laughter, while Gus held a mirrored look of Shawn's confusion. "Annie is my fifteen-year-old cousin and she…well, let's just say she's taken a strong liking to Carlton."

Shawn snorted, "Does she know you're gay?"

"I don't know, I didn't really tell her. I just avoided her."

Juliet actually laughed then, "My parents know, and I'm sure my aunts know because my mom tells them everything, but I doubt they told their children. Though, obviously Karen knows. But I don't think any of our other cousins know, though Karen's sister does…" Juliet trailed off, a smirk on her face once again.

At the looked Shawn was giving him, Lassiter looked away and muttered, "I may or may not have dated Karen's sister in middle school…" Gus laughed loudly at that, and Shawn just shook his head, trying not to laugh as well.

"Juliet," he started, "You must inform me of all his other past girlfriends when he is not present."

"I'm right here!"

"I know, I said when you're not present."

Before the two could continue bickering Juliet, with a laugh in her voice, said "So you guys gonna come or not? Your parents are more thank welcome to come, too. It's just a big cookout we're having since the weather is getting nicer and nicer."

Shawn nodded, "I'll definitely come, and I'm sure my dad will too. He knows Karen's mom from when her…husband was on the force." Juliet nodded, a look of realization hitting her face but she said nothing.

"I guess I'll come then, too. Maybe Shawn can protect me from Annie."

"Don't worry. I'll make out with you in the middle of the party and I think she'll get the picture." Lassiter just glared at his boyfriend, but before he could respond a voice called out to them.

"Hey, Shawn!" The four turned to see Shawn and Lassiter's art teacher's aide, Ms. Roge, quickly making her way to their table. "Shawn," She said again, quickly pulling him up and off to the side, "Shawn, you need to go to the office right away…it's an emergency."

As Shawn gained his footing her words hit him and he almost lost it again. "An em—is it…is it my dad?" Roge bit her lip, as if she didn't want to answer. "Oh God." It was as if he'd been stabbed in the heart with an icicle. Shawn raised a shaking hand to cover his mouth.

"Now I-I don't know all the details. It may not be that bad, but your grandfather is waiting in the office. He said he'd tell you everything."

Shawn nodded, and quickly turned back to the table. He glanced at his friends, who were staring at him with looks of panic, Lassiter standing. "I—I don't know what's going on but I'll call you all when I know something." They nodded and without waiting for anything more Shawn ran at full speed towards the building, ignoring his books that he'd left at the table or the waiting Ms. Roge whom he'd left in the dust.

He just needed to know what was going on. He just needed his father.

He bolted through the empty hallways, not caring how loud his shoes were slamming against the linoleum floors. He was vaguely aware of the sound of Ms. Roge's shoes far behind him but all he could think of were images of his father dead, bleeding, or worse.

He was so wracked with worry of being told his father was hurt that he didn't even realize that he had no feeling of his father being hurt. Whenever his father was hurt he could sense it, but with this feeling of pure, unadulterated panic he didn't even realize that he had no such feelings.

He skidded to a halt as he finally bolted into the office and saw someone he was not expecting to see, upping his panic even more.

"Grandpa Clarence?"

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And so begins the dramatic, majorly-whump-filled portion of this story…

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!

-claire