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 Charger (with working brakes), 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.
Angst and Romance
How to Save a Life – The Fray
Shawn Spencer doesn't consider himself a hero, or even a very good person. Good people don't ask their best friends to lie to an entire police department, and heroes don't collect a check for every person they help.
But right now, just for this moment, he wishes he were. Because standing in front of him is that good person, that hero. Carlton is everything Shawn wishes he were but knows he can't be. And right now Shawn has a chance to be a better person, just a little closer to his ideal, closer to Lassiter. Even if the detective doesn't realize it yet.
"Spencer, for the love of god don't do anything stupid." The dark-haired Irishman implores, his voice uncharacteristically soft. The man holding Shawn hostage glances between them, confused and unnerved, before tightening his hold. The gun stays firmly against his side, the barrel digging into his ribs.
A large ring on the gun hand reminds Shawn who his captor is. He can still see where that ring left imprints on the seven women the man raped and beat to death. If he gets away, Shawn has no doubt he'll do it again. Looking past Lassiter to Juliet and the Chief, he imagines it happening to one of them, and suddenly his choice is made.
He catches Carlton's eyes, can see them widen as the other man realizes what he's about to do. There's a beat where time seems to slow, and Shawn tries to convey everything he neglected to say, and Carlton seems to understand.
Then they rejoin the rest of the world, and the connection between them is lost. Before the detective has a chance to voice an objection and give away his plan, Shawn acts.
Reaching down, he seizes the criminal's gun hand and ejects the clip. But as always, there's one in the barrel, and Shawn won't take the risk of it hitting his friends, his colleagues, or, god forbid, the wonderful man in front of him, so he slips his own finger in the trigger guard.
He smiles as he presses down on the finger in his way, and only falters as the bullet rips into his side. His brain is too busy screaming at his stupidity to bother with such things as muscle control, so he falls.
The three shots Lassiter pops off seem to resemble applause, and Shawn feels like he's quite the hero after all. And maybe that's silly of him, but when Carlton falls to his knees and pulls Shawn close, muttering about how stupid and idiotic and brave that was, he smiles.
And later that night, after the hospital, when he's laying wrapped in Carlton's arms for the first time, buzzed on pain meds and endorphins from their rather lengthy and frankly fantastic first kiss, he still can't seem to shake the idea.
And he decides that maybe it's not so bad, being good and heroic once in a while.
Aww, martyr!Shawn is so sweet. Had to write him, or the muses would lock me in a cell with Lassiter (who really doesn't like it when I let Shawn get shot).
Again, missed ya'll, love to hear from ya.