They rode in silence with Shawn staring out the window at the dark city streets. Gus knew better than to push and instead he concentrated only on driving. Finally they pulled up in front of his apartment and Gus silently steered his miserable friend inside.
Shawn sat on the comfortable sofa with a heavy sigh, as Gus grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge before joining his friend. "How are you doing?" He offered a water to Shawn, who gratefully accepted. Instead of opening the bottle, however, Shawn pressed it firmly against his right temple. The cool pressure was a relief, helping to somewhat alleviate the raging headache that had developed.
"Headache?" Gus queried worriedly. Shawn wasn't prone to headaches usually, but there certainly wasn't anything normal about the situation.
"Yeah, a little. I'm okay though," Shawn lied softly. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows. "What about starting with Sixteen Candles?"
Gus nodded. "Sure thing." He got up and put the DVD in the player, but when he turned back to the couch he found Shawn watching him. "What?"
"Why did this happen, Gus?" Shawn was quieter and more subdued than Gus had ever witnessed in over two decades of friendship.
"I don't know, Shawn. I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry." Gus sat down next to his friend, who had leaned forward to bury his face in shaking hands.
"It's not fair," came the muffled voice.
"It isn't," Gus agreed, squeezing Shawn's shoulder reassuringly. "But I'll be here, okay? You're not going through this alone. And if you want to talk..."
"I know. Thanks, buddy." Shawn sighed. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted so badly to forget about everything that had happened in the last few hours, but knew that wasn't possible. Shawn couldn't shake the guilt, the horrible feeling that if he'd been on time for dinner he could have saved his father's life. He didn't want to say those words aloud, it was as if saying them would confirm it, make it the truth. "I guess I knew this day would come eventually. But I didn't know it would hurt this bad."
Gus opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when Shawn suddenly stood and began to pace. "Mom! I need to call Mom!"
"Okay," Gus soothed. "You're right. We will. Do you have her number?" He knew that Madeleine was often difficult to reach under the best of circumstances.
Shawn turned to face his best friend and gasped as the sudden movement caused sharp pain to flare in his throbbing skull. He pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes and staggered as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
Gus quickly leapt to his feet and steadied Shawn before he fell. "Come on, sit down." He eased the exhausted man back onto the couch before grabbing his pharmaceutical sample case from the kitchen.
Shawn kept his fingers pressed into his temples as he eyed Gus warily. "What is that?" he asked suspiciously when his friend pulled out two small yellow pills.
"They'll get rid of your headache," Gus explained. And help you sleep, he finished mentally. He knew there was no way Shawn was going to get any decent rest otherwise, and the look on his friend's face told him that Shawn was dangerously close to collapse.
Shawn wasn't fooled. "They're sleeping pills, aren't they?" he demanded, but there was no heat behind the words.
"No," Gus replied honestly. "They're painkillers."
"But…?" Shawn prompted.
"One of the side effects is marked drowsiness," Gus admitted with a sigh. "Take them, Shawn. They'll get rid of your headache and you need to get some sleep anyway."
"I don't want to sleep," Shawn admitted softly. He knew that his dreams would unavoidably be haunted by images of his father's lifeless body, sprawled across the kitchen floor.
"Okay," Gus relented. "Sixteen Candles, then?" At Shawn's weak nod, he set down the pills and reached for the remote.