After a long absence from FF, I'm back! I could give you some rather impressive excuses (laptop crashed, was in a car crash, my neighbors house burned down, moved out to college, etc.), but I won't (except that I already did). I really hope ya'll enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I owned any of it, I'd have a better laptop (that doesn't crash), a shack by the beach (that doesn't burn), and a hammock. But I don't, so don't bother suing for what I can't give you.

Hurt/Comfort
I'm Not Okay (I Promise) – My Chemical Romance
Spoilers: An Evening With Mr. Yang

Carlton leaned back in his chair with a yawn, taking a moment to glance at the clock. 11:30.

Nearly four hours since Spencer had sat in a car with a serial killer who held his mother's life in her hands. Four hours since he'd saved his mother's life by risking his own.

Three hours since Henry had taken his wife home, leaving Shawn alone at the station. Three hours since Shawn had given Carlton a look that said he was definitely not okay, even as his mouth was saying the opposite.

Two hours since Shawn had wandered out of the station alone, headed who knew where.

One hour since Guster had called, saying Shawn wasn't answering his phone. One hour since Carlton had said Spencer probably just needed time to himself. He'd been confident that was the case at the time.

Now, though, for whatever reason, he wasn't as sure. Glancing down at his desk, Carlton decided the rest of the paperwork could wait until tomorrow morning. He flicked off his lamp, snatched his coat and keys, nodded to the rookie on duty, and headed out to the Crown Vic.

The first place he thought of was the Psych office, but with the killer having invaded it, he decided Spencer wouldn't have headed somewhere he felt wasn't secure. He was a cop's son, after all.

His apartment was the next, but that was cast aside just as quickly. If Spencer didn't want to be found, he'd avoid the obvious places.

He doubted Shawn would go to Henry's tonight; his mother would be there, and his father would be asking questions, demanding answers… definitely not there.

Gus was the one to call him, so his place was out.

Carlton slammed on the brakes as the answer suddenly smacked him in the face. Safe, unexpected, no questions or explanations needed. Of course. Spinning the car around, Carlton headed for the first place he should have gone tonight.

Pulling up in front of his own apartment, Carlton could just pick out a dark figure huddled beside his door. When he reached his floor, he recognized Shawn leaning against the wall by his door, knees pulled to his chest, eyelids drooping.

"What took you so long?" The fake-psychic muttered softly, too tired to raise his head. Carlton crouched in front of him, placing one hand gently on the younger man's knee. "Looking for you. Then I figured it out." He admitted, earning a half-hearted snort.

"Shawn." He implored. The shorter man finally looked up. "Let's go inside, okay?" The offer was met with the first smile he'd seen from the man since his mother was taken. It quickly faded, and Carlton found himself ready to do almost anything to bring it back.

"I don't think my legs are working yet." The soft admission made Lassiter laugh in relief. "Not a problem." He assured, leaning forward to slip his arms around the unusually subdued man. When Shawn was comfortably settled in his arms, Carlton looked down into hazel eyes.

"You okay?" He asked quietly as he struggled with the door. Shawn waited until it was open to respond. "No. But I think this is the off-ramp for it."

Carlton laughed softly as they entered, pressing a gentle kiss to his psychic's forehead before kicking the door shut behind them.

See? Much happier.

I missed ya'll, and I'd love to hear from ya!