Shawn only vaguely paid attention during the beginning of the service. He was overwhelmed by the whirlwind of greetings and condolences he'd had to endure beforehand. He was also severely regretting his refusal to let Gus re-bandage his fingers – people kept reaching to shake hands and rather than try and explain, Shawn kept accepting. As a result, his hand was throbbing badly and driving him to distraction.

Cradling the injury in his lap, Shawn tried to block out the pain and focus. One of his father's old partners was speaking, talking at great length about what a great cop Henry had been. Breathing carefully through his nose, Shawn closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he felt someone watching and turned to face Gus, who stared at him worriedly. Shawn attempted a smile, but knew it was pathetic.

Shawn continued fading in and out, trying to pay attention but having difficulty following. Chief Vick spoke next, taking a few minutes to talk about how many years she and Henry Spencer had known each other and how she was truly going to miss his friendship. Shawn tuned in just in time to hear the chief say how much she had always relied on Henry's calm advice, his unwavering counsel. You're not the only one, Shawn thought miserably.

Then it was his turn. Shawn knew that every eye was on him as he stood and took his place at the front of the small chapel. He glanced at Gus, and at the calm, reassuring nod Shawn managed a deep breath.

"Thank you all for coming today. It means a lot to me that you care." Shawn paused, smiling slightly as his practiced eyes skimmed over the crowd. There were a lot of people packed into the small space. No hats though, he observed absently as he began. "It's no secret that my dad and I didn't always get along."

There were a few sad, knowing smiles from the crowd, and Shawn continued, "We had our differences and disagreements over the years. Growing up, my mom was gone a lot, so most of the time it was just the two of us."

Shawn's voice grew softer. "It couldn't have been easy for him. I didn't make it easy for him. But he was always there. He may not have been like the other kids' dads, but he um...he took care of me the best way he knew how." Shawn paused again, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat. You haven't broken yet. Now is not the time.

"And as hard as our relationship was, as much as we fought, I really only have one regret. And that's how I didn't get the chance to tell him. To thank him. To let him know that everything I am today, the person I've become, is because of him." Shawn chuckled. "Or in spite of him."

He turned toward his father's closed casket and said simply, "Thank you, Dad. For everything." He paused and took a deep breath. "I'll miss you more than words can say."

Shawn's eulogy was simple, but his were the only dry eyes in the chapel when he finished speaking and returned to his seat. Though he tried to hide it, even Lassiter sniffled a little, gratefully squeezing Juliet's hand when she placed it gently on top of his.

Through his own tears Gus watched his best friend return to his side, and clasped Shawn's shoulder. "Good job, buddy," he whispered. "He would be proud."

Right. Shawn nodded stiffly and rubbed his eyes, trying to halt the threatening flood. Don't, he warned himself. If you start crying you won't be able to stop.

Gus could see the inner battle Shawn was waging. "You're going to have to let go eventually," he whispered softly. At the stony silence he received in reply, Gus sighed and returned his attention to the front of the chapel.

Shawn stood at his father's graveside stoically, as if frozen in place. Gus had been keeping a careful eye on his friend during the short ride to the cemetery. It had begun to drizzle, and the large group of mourners from the chapel had dwindled. Besides Shawn and Gus, only Chief Vick and a handful of Henry's old cop buddies remained.

Juliet and Lassiter had been called back to the station immediately after the service, and as they left Shawn had accepted their sincere condolences distractedly. Gus was troubled by the vacant look in his friend's eyes. Juliet had clearly noticed it too, and easily conveyed her thoughts to Gus with a worried frown. Gus had attempted a reassuring smile, but in truth he was just as concerned.

Once the two detectives took their leave, Gus bundled his silently obedient friend into the car. The funeral procession had been short and the cemetery was close.

The priest said a few words, and then it was time.

Shawn stared, seemingly in a daze, as his father's casket began its slow descent into the ground. Gus watched solemnly, eyes skimming over the temporary grave marker arranged when Shawn still hadn't settled on a headstone. He placed a gentle hand on Shawn's shoulder, and was surprised to find it trembling ever so slightly. Slowly, painfully, Shawn turned glistening eyes to meet his buddy's.

"He's gone," Shawn's voice was that of a man who had just made an important realization. It's all real. He's really not coming back. "That's it. Gus, he's gone," Shawn repeated.

"I know. I know, and I'm so sorry, Shawn." Gus didn't know what else to say. He suspected that Shawn was nearing his breaking point.

"Gone," Shawn whispered again. Henry's casket had reached its final resting place, and the few remaining mourners were quietly dispersing. Only Chief Vick remained, and she looked to Gus for guidance.

At the young man's helpless shrug, Karen stepped forward and gently brushed her hand against Shawn's arm. Startled by the contact, he gasped. It turned into an odd strangled sound, which Karen recognized as an attempt to suppress a sob. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Spen- I mean, Shawn." At the distraught look on Shawn's face, for once she bypassed her usual formality and referred to her psychic consultant by his given name. With a final pat to his shoulder Vick murmured her condolences with a sad smile before quietly walking away.

With everyone else finally gone, Gus resumed his position by his best friend. He absolutely refused to push, especially given Shawn's obvious fragility. They stood side-by-side, unmoving, staring solemnly into Henry's fresh grave.

As they stood, the faint drizzle slowly increased until it was raining heavily. Gus shivered against the accompanying chill. "Come on, buddy. You're going to get sick. Let's go." He tugged halfheartedly at Shawn's sleeve and was unsurprised by the lack of response. He watched Shawn carefully, trying to decide if only rain streamed in rivulets down the pale cheeks, or if his friend had given into the grief. He eventually decided that it was simply rain and sure enough, Shawn's voice was soft but completely steady when he finally spoke.

"What am I going to do, Gus?" He continued to stare blankly at his father's exposed coffin.

Gus sighed. "You're going to do what you've always done. You're going to be a detective. You're going to pretend to be psychic and flirt with Juliet and drive Lassiter crazy making obscure references to eighties movies."

Shawn shook his head. "How? How can I just go back to doing all those things, Gus?"

"What choice do you have?" It was less a question than a gentle admonition. "You'll learn to cope, Shawn. Life will go on." Even as he said the words, they sounded harsh to his own ears.

Shawn looked up sharply. For the first time since Henry's death, Gus could see an emotion other than grief in the bloodshot hazel eyes. "What do you know?!" Shawn snapped angrily. "Your dad is still alive!"

Gus looked his friend square in the face. "Yes. But your father was an important part of my life, Shawn. I spent more time at your house than my own when we were growing up. I've had dinner with you and your dad more in the last month than I have with my family in the last year. I'm not going to pretend I know what you're going through, but don't you think I miss him too?"

Shawn nodded; his momentary burst of fury gone. The vehemence in his tone was once again replaced by sorrow as he replied. "I'm sorry, buddy. You're right. I just…it's weird to think he won't be there, you know?"

"I know," Gus agreed softly.

"I never thought about it. Dad was just always there. I guess I assumed he always would be." Shawn managed a smile as he dragged in a shuddering breath. "I figured he'd always be a pain in my ass. As many times as I left and came back, it may have taken a while for me to go see him, but he was always there to see."

It was Gus' turn to nod, but he didn't say anything. He simply waited for Shawn to continue.

Anger once again laced Shawn's words but this time it wasn't directed at Gus. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way! All those years he was a cop, and Mom and I worried about getting that phone call. All those nights she lost sleep when he was working a particularly dangerous case. She used to jump every time the phone rang or someone knocked at the door, terrified that something had happened. He came home all those times!"

Shawn's eyes again welled up with tears and he blinked them back in frustration. "He always came home! He survived an entire freaking career as a cop, Gus! Then he just...dies of a heart attack in his kitchen? It's not fair!" Shawn rubbed his eyes fiercely. "It's not fair," he repeated, though all traces of irritation had suddenly disappeared. He still felt guilty that his father had died alone, even through all the assurances that nothing would have changed. "I feel like I should have known…should have…sensed something."

"Shawn. You aren't really psychic," Gus observed matter-of-factly.

"I know, I just…" Shawn trailed off, unsure of what he had intended to say. He opted for changing the subject. "What am I going to do with his house?"

"It's your house now," Gus reminded his friend. Henry's will had unequivocally left all of his assets to his only child.

Shawn paused for a beat. "Wow," he murmured. "I guess so. I don't know what to do with that. I don't think I could ever live there."

Gus refrained from pointing out that his friend had, in fact, spent many years living in that very house. He knew what Shawn meant.

Suddenly Gus noticed that they were still standing in what had become a driving rain. He regarded his buddy solemnly. "Where do you want to go?"

Shawn sighed and rubbed his face wearily. This just all seems so surreal. I know he's gone, I really do, but I still can't help but feel like he's going to be there when I walk in the door. He opened his eyes, decision made. "The house."

The response was so soft that at first Gus thought he'd misheard. "The house," he repeated, baffled. That wasn't what he'd expected.

"Yeah," Shawn said carefully. He sounded stronger, more certain, as he repeated the answer again. "Yeah. The house."

"You got it, buddy," Gus replied slowly.