Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay, but here is the next chapter. I hope you all continue to like it. Please REVIEW and let me know your
Juliet O'Hara had never been like other girls. Even as a child she had been different. Her mother would often beg her to wear dresses, to do her hair in tiny blonde pigtails reminiscent of Cindy Brady, but O'Hara wanted nothing to do with any of it. While other girls dressed up as princesses and fairies for Halloween, Juliet paraded around in camo and face paint. Other little girls dreamed of becoming rich and famous Hollywood STARLETS but by the time Juliet was seven she knew she wanted to dedicate her life to fighting crime. While her classmates gossiped and dated, Juliet worked tirelessly to see her hopes for the future come to fruition. While her girlfriends dreamed of prom dresses and future husbands, Juliet dreamed of the day she would finally strap a gun to her hip. It was the only dream she ever had; the only dream she ever allowed herself to believe in.
Falling in love had never been overly important to Juliet. She wasn't interested in marriage or relationships. She knew she was pretty in a sort of girl next door kind of way. Men asked her out all the time, but while she enjoyed a few innocent dates here or there she had never been much of a relationship woman. She'd even had a few boyfriends over the years, but none had swept her off her feet. Not really. Scott had been the first boy she had actually felt something for, the first man she actually thought she could spend the rest of her life with, but their dreams got in the way of one another and even though fate had given them a second chance at love something had held Juliet back. Or, more importantly...someone.
Shawn Spencer was unlike anyone Juliet had ever met. He was her opposite in almost every way. Chaotic, unprofessional and self-centered in a way that both amused and appalled her. And yet, within the chaos, lay a brilliance that Juliet wasn't sure Shawn even knew he had. So, of course, she was instantly attracted to him. It was an attraction that she knew both of them felt, but for their own individual reasons were loathe to act upon.
For years she had assumed that Shawn's general fear of commitment was behind his reluctance to make the move both of them so desperately wanted to. After all, she had seen how Shawn was with other women. He was never interested in anything but sex. Never wanted more from a woman than what she had to offer him physically. Even Abigail, a woman he claimed to have deep feelings for, was kept at an emotional distance. There was no doubt in Juliet's mind that Shawn cared for her on some level. He had been too distressed over her abduction not to, but as she had walked away from him that night he had not raised a hand to stop her. He had watched her walk away and had seemed almost relieved by her rejection.
It hadn't been until after Shawn had finally admitted his feelings for her and they had begun dating that Juliet realized just how wrong she had been, just how much of himself Shawn Spencer had been hiding from her and those around him. There were parts of Shawn that he kept locked away inside, an ability to love and give that sometimes astounded her. And pain...a bitterness of the heart that she could not take away from him or even begin to understand.
At first she had thought his relationship with his father was behind his sorrow, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Shawn and Henry's relationship was a complicated mess, a constant source of tension in the psychic's life, but Shawn's reactions to his father were fairly simple. An anger bordering on full fury and, at times, mixed with a healthy dose of outraged disbelief, but deep down Juliet knew that Shawn and Henry cared for one another on a level that only a father and son could manage. If anything ever happened to Henry Shawn would be devastated, no matter how much he argued against it, and if something terrible were to befall Shawn Juliet knew that Henry would never survive the blow. Their love was a roiling pit of resentment and disappointment, but it was love nonetheless. No, the cause of Shawn's pain was something far worse than anything Henry could ever dish out. It was the type of pain that had bitten so deep into a soul that nothing could ever completely scrub it away.
Not that Juliet hadn't tried. She had attempted to coax the secrets from his lips more times than she could count, but Shawn was far smarter than he often pretended to be and usually figured out what she was attempting to do before she got anywhere with him. He was a master deflector and could change the subject so quickly and so smoothly that it often took her a moment to realize he had even done it. One moment their conversation would be serious and the next he would be babbling on about the unfair judgement call he had received on his sixth grade science fair project or his idea for a new line of pants for dogs he'd lovingly coined Scooby Slacks. Juliet would be so thrown by the sudden change of topic that she often went along with whatever tangent Shawn had found himself on.
Juliet, however, was much smarter than people gave her credit for to and though Shawn refused to give her much to work with she had gleaned a few facts out of him anyways. Whatever had happened to him had occurred within the two and half year period Shawn had been gone from Santa Barbara. He refused to talk about much of his travelings with her and when she had asked Gus about it the man had seemed as clueless about his time away as she had. The only thing Gus knew for sure was that there had been a woman somewhere that Shawn had fallen fairly hard for, but that when Shawn had spontaneously arrived back in California the woman had mysteriously ceased to exist. Shawn had refused to talk about her, saying only that things between them hadn't worked out. Gus hadn't pried because the look on Shawn's face made it clear that there would be no discussion on the matter. Gus had also told her, albeit reluctantly, that Shawn changed on his trip away. He was a different man, a darker man.
At the time, she hadn't understood what that meant. She had never seen Shawn in a particularly dark mood and she had yet to experience the birthday incident with Henry or any of the many small signs that not all was well in Denmark. The psychic went out of his way to be perpetually cheery and, often times, was so adept at it that he annoyed the hell out of everyone around him. It wasn't until one night, six months into their relationship, that Juliet finally began to understand Gus's ominous words.
It all started with a fight. Their fight. One of the first they had ever had. Shawn, by nature, didn't enjoy arguing with anybody unless their name started with an H and ended in ENRY. There were moments, few and far between as they were, that Shawn got angry with something Juliet had done or Lassiter had said, but he rarely acted upon his disgruntlement. He chose less abrasive ways to make his displeasure known and while they often annoyed the hell out of Lassiter they usually amused Juliet and, just like that, whatever anger the young man had been feeling would disappear with the sound of her laughter. This time, however, his anger had not disappeared. This time he had lashed out in a way that she had never imagined from him.
They had been at dinner. One of the many joints in California that offered a variety of food so foreign to Juliet that even the names made her shudder in disgust. Of course, it was Shawn's suggestion and he had taken an almost childlike joy in pointing out all the different ways the restaurant could and would serve meats she had previously only thought edible on episodes of Fear Factor. As they had dined, Shawn enthusiastically and Juliet grudgingly, they had chatted about places they would both like to visit. If she had known then of the reaction her answer would set off in him she never would have let the words slip from her lips. But, she hadn't known. Hadn't even expected.
"I've always thought Chicago would be terribly interesting," she had said, bringing a steaming chunk of what she hoped was chicken to her lips. "I hear there are some amazing architecture tours on the river and Navy Pier sounds very..."
"I hate Chicago," Shawn spat out suddenly, looking at her over her plate of food as if she had slapped him across the face.
"Oh," Juliet said, shocked at his expression and the venom in his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you had ever been."
"I never said I had," Shawn growled, jaw clenched tightly.
"Well," she said softly, trying to understand where his outburst had come from. "How do you know you hate a place if you've never been? You might really like Chicago, Shawn. You just have to give it a chance."
"Don't tell me what to do, Jules," he snapped.
"I wasn't trying to tell you what to do," she faltered breathlessly. "Shawn, I only meant-"
"I know what you meant," Shawn said darkly. "You thought you could tell me what to think...that you could control me." His lips curled derisively and he shook his head. "You can't, Jules. If I say I don't like a place then there is nothing you can do to change my mind."
"Shawn," Juliet whispered. "I don't understand why you're so angry. All I said was that I thought Chicago would be interesting and-"
"You assumed I would think the same," Shawn hissed, drawing the eyes of the other patrons. Juliet blushed furiously in her chair and tried to ignore their seeking gaze.
"Shawn," Juliet said slowly. "Calm down. You are making a scene."
"I am calm," Shawn whispered fiercely at her, gripping his fork tightly in his fist. "I am very fucking calm, Jules."
Juliet looked up at him, shocked. He had never used language like that in front of her. She didn't understand what she had done to make him so angry. He had never reacted this way before. Not even to Henry. His face was flushed with fury and his hazel eyes were bright and sharp with an emotion Juliet could not identify. She looked around her at the questioning stares of the restaurant patrons and she felt tears of embarrassment well up in her eyes.
She felt utterly ridiculous for crying. She NEVER cried. She thought it made her look weak, made her look helpless and those were two things she never wanted to be. But, Shawn's anger was so sudden, so unlike the man she had come to love that she was thrown by its ferocity. The tears dripped down her cheeks and she tried to wipe them away with her fist before anyone could see them, but she wasn't quick enough. Shawn had seen them and he paled instantly.
"Jules," he whispered, his eyes closing in horror. "Jesus, Jules...don't cry. Please don't cry." He attempted to reach across the table and grab her hand, but she yanked her fingers away from him.
"I think you have embarrassed me enough for one night," she told him icily. "Pay the bill, Shawn. I'm ready to go home. I'll wait for you in the car."
She stood and tried to ignore the agonized expression on his face. She wouldn't get into it now...not while the entire restaurant was looking at them as if they were guests on Jerry Springer. She needed time to think, to gather her thoughts and make sense of her emotions. She couldn't understand where his anger had come from. There had been no irritation in his voice before she had brought up the Windy City...no signs that he was going to crack the way he did. And yet...she had seen the sharp emotion in his eyes before. When she had asked him about his travels around the States all those years ago he'd had the same look in his eyes. A sharpness that bordered on insane. It had scared her then and it had scared her now. She just didn't know why it was there.
When Shawn had joined her in the car some fifteen minutes later he had been uncharacteristically quiet. His hands shook as he reached for the steering wheel and he gripped the leather tightly to steady himself. The emotions raging inside him broke Juliet's heart, but she waited for him to speak. Somehow she knew, as if by instinct, that if she pushed him now it would only end up in another outburst. An outburst that Juliet was unsure she could take.
"Jules," Shawn finally whispered, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I don't-" He stopped, closed his eyes, and cleared his throat to try again. "I don't know what came over me."
Yes, you do, Juliet thought. You know exactly what made you angry...you just don't want to tell me.
"Please, Juliet," Shawn begged when she didn't say anything. "Please don't be angry with me. I know I messed up, okay? I guess I'm just tired and I-"
"Shawn," Juliet interrupted softly. "Don't lie to me."
"What?" Shawn whispered, open mouthed.
"Don't lie to me," Juliet repeated. "Keep your secrets if you must, but don't think for a second that I believe this came out of nowhere. Something I said set you off tonight. I don't know what and I don't know why, but I know it did."
"Jules," Shawn began.
"Chicago," Juliet said softly. "Something happened there that you don't want me to know about."
"Juliet" Shawn said, voice tight. "Please. Can't we just go back to your place and forget this ever happened?"
"Pretending something didn't happen doesn't mean it didn't," Juliet told him.
"I think I know that better than anyone," Shawn replied, so softly that Juliet almost didn't hear him.
The emotion in his voice, the pure hurt in his tone, made her drop the subject. The car ride home had been as silent as the grave and Juliet felt as if she were stuck inside an episode of the Twilight Zone. Shawn was lost in whatever place his nightmares took refuge in and Juliet couldn't stand looking at him. Every time she did she saw the horrid maniacal gleam in his eyes, the same wretched pain she had witnessed at dinner. This was the darker side of Shawn that Gus had been referring to. This was a side of Shawn that terrified her.
That night, Shawn had hardly said a word to her. She had tried to engage him in conversation, but he seemed reluctant to do much more than sulk in whatever funk their argument had settled him into. He had finally made up some story about how exhausted he was due to an irritated spirit's relentless efforts to reach him from the other side. It was a lie, she knew, and she was convinced that Shawn knew she knew, but neither of them commented on his breach of honesty. She had simply kissed him and turned off the light, lost in her own thoughts as she suspected Shawn was lost in his.
Juliet had remained awake for a long time. Shawn had long ago succumbed to actual slumber, but O'Hara could not turn her mind off. She listened to him breathe softly from beside her and felt the reassuring presence of his fingers gently entwined in her own, but despite his proximity Shawn had never felt farther away. She could not imagine the sorrow, the heartache and misery that had to have taken place for Shawn to react in such a manner. Perhaps the psychic's attitude towards women had less to do with a fear of commitment and more to do with a previous relationship than Juliet had realized. Perhaps the woman Gus had mentioned had broken Shawn's heart in ways that O'Hara could not even begin to comprehend. She couldn't imagine Shawn ever loving somebody so much that their rejection brought him physical pain, but she had underestimated him before. Everyone underestimated Shawn Spencer. That was how he preferred it.
Sometimes Juliet considered talking to Carlton about her relationship with Shawn, but she always dismissed it. It wasn't that she didn't trust Lassiter. She trusted him more than almost anyone and the older detective was one of the few real friends she had in California. As hard as Carlton was to talk to at times, O'Hara knew that he always had her back and would always lend an ear if he had to. Yet, as much as she wanted to pour her heart out to her partner, the secrets that she would tell were not her own. They belonged to Shawn and Juliet knew that telling the intimate details of their relationship to Lassie would be the ultimate betrayal in the psychic's eyes.
Besides, Carlton had a hard time understanding the meaning of personal boundaries and pesky things like privacy. It would be her luck that her partner would take her concerns to heart and do some sort of in depth background check on Shawn. Not that Carlton hadn't done an extensive search on his least favorite consultant anyways, but Juliet knew that if Carlton was given a reason he could dig much deeper into Shawn's private affairs than he already had. The sad part was that Juliet wasn't sure if she was more concerned about Shawn's reaction if he ever found out about such a blatant disregard to his privacy or the information Lassiter would actually discover in his search.
In the end, she came to the decision that she didn't want to know what Shawn was hiding. Whatever it was that had brought darkness to his world it was his cross to bare for as long as he saw fit. If, one day, he chose to share his secret with her then she would welcome it with open arms, but until that day there was no reason for Juliet to push, no reason for her to pry into a chapter of Shawn's history that clearly brought him pain. She knew from experience that people had different ways of handling grief and Shawn was no different. He had chosen to deal with it on his own and Juliet had to respect that. Shawn would tell her when he was ready and the day that moment came would mark a new chapter in their relationship.
Only...that day had never come. It never even had a chance. Juliet made it a habit not to talk about open investigations in front of Shawn. She had yet to figure out why the psychic was drawn to certain cases more than others, although she expected that the ability for Shawn to show off was a large factor. She knew, however, that regardless of how or why her boyfriend chose cases, once Shawn's interests were piqued there was little anyone could do to stop him from becoming involved...whether his help was wanted or not.
The Veronica Dunning case had been no different. It hadn't been more than an hour after they had received the missing persons call that Shawn had bounced in, finger to his temple, and demanded to be put on the investigating team. Carlton shot her a dirty look from across the room, but O'Hara simply shrugged. She had no control over Shawn Spencer and truly doubted that anyone ever would.
It hadn't taken long for Chief Vick to give into his requests. Shawn had that effect on people. Besides, Shawn was useful, regardless of his less than ordinary techniques and the Chief knew that. Everyone did. Even Carlton...no matter how loathe he was to admit it. In the end, Shawn had gotten his wish. But, as the saying went one had to be careful what they wished for. Shawn had delivered on his promise. He had found Veronica Dunning, but not in the condition he had been expecting. It was clear from the moment he saw her that he had thought she would still be alive. And then the psychic had looked at her face and all hell had broken loose.
Even now, hours later, Juliet was still trying to comprehend all that had happened. She desperately wanted to speak to her boyfriend, to try and comfort him the best she could, but what the hell was she supposed to say? Sorry? Juliet snorted and rubbed at her eyes tiredly.
She had been pouring over the Dunning case files since Lassiter had left with Shawn over an hour ago, but she had yet to find anything that made any sense of the chaos whirling around in her skull. The Chicago PD had promised to send over whatever information they had on the killings that took place there seven years ago, but Juliet wasn't sure she wanted to read them. Very few people had any idea how hard it was to read and write case files in the detached manner the precincts expected of them. Especially on cases they were involved in. The victims were real, had once been living breathing entities with their own hopes and dreams, but on paper they came out flat and lifeless. There was no room for emotion in the world of police paperwork, but there was no erasing the memory of who the victim might have been from the hearts of those assigned to seek justice for them.
Amy Coronado had been the light of Shawn's world for over two years before she was ripped from his life. To read about her in the flat, emotionless terms of police jargon was unimaginable to Juliet. How could she look at the crime scene photos with detached and scrutinizing eyes? How could she remain calm and collected when she knew that the man she was in love with was shattered to pieces by the mere memory of what had occurred so many years previous? And yet...how could she afford to look at it in any other way? She was a cop and her duty was to the people she had sworn to protect. She could not allow her emotions to get in the way of her job because if she did, if she faltered for even a moment, people would die. People just like Amy Coronado. People with loved ones like Shawn, waiting desperately for them to come home only to receive the news that their lives were never going to be the same.
It didn't help that she had been unable to talk to Shawn since he had nearly fainted at the crime scene. She had tried to speak to him, tried to get him to open up to her, but he had refused to even look at her after his reaction to the photograph found on Veronica Dunning's corpse. She hated the pitying looks she had received from her fellow officers. Even Lassiter had tiptoed around her, taking over interviewing Shawn almost reluctantly as if he were afraid of what it would mean to her if he could get the psychic to open up when she had failed. Of course, it didn't help that that was exactly what happened.
Juliet didn't begrudge her partner in the slightest. Nor was she angry with Shawn. She understood how talking about a dead fiancee with a current girlfriend would be awkward...not to mention excruciating. But, it had still hurt. She wanted Shawn to feel like he could share anything with her. No matter how painful, no matter how hard. She wanted Shawn to know that she would be at his side no matter what. They had been dating for almost a year and he had never once mentioned Amy's name. He had reacted to her death in ways that had befuddled and dazed Juliet at the time, but now that she knew, now that she understood, everything made sense. His reactions to the Windy City, his general lack of zeal for anything that came close to commitment and even the nightmares that he had on occasion.
Juliet sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose absently with one hand. It had been over an hour since Carlton had whisked the psychic away under the pretense of getting food. Henry was wandering around somewhere, waiting eagerly for his son to return with all the pent up anxiety of a caged animal. He had tried to accompany Shawn to lunch, but the young man had waived his father away tiredly with one hand. The message was clear...Shawn didn't want pity, didn't want love and support. He wanted to hurt and be alone in his suffering. Carlton's gruff company would offer him that. This, more than anything else, broke Juliet's heart.
Suddenly, O'Hara's cell phone rang and she jumped in surprise. She had been so focused on the situation at hand that she had forgotten she had a job to do. She looked down at the caller I.D., but the number was not one she recognized and for reasons she could not quite understand she felt a pang of unease in her gut.
"O'Hara," she said uncertainly, bringing the phone up to her ear.
"Juliet," a soft voice said. "How lovely it is to finally hear your voice. You sound as beautiful as you look."
"Who is this?" Juliet whispered, the unease in her belly slithering uncomfortably.
"I think we would be better off keeping my name a secret for the moment," the voice said cheerily. "Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, my dear, but I am sure you understand. After all, I wouldn't want to give our lovely psychic too much of an edge. That would make the game too easy. Don't you agree?"
Juliet's breath caught in her throat and it took her a moment to regain her bearings. He was calling her, talking to her. The sadistic bastard that had destroyed Shawn's life was speaking to her as if she were an old friend. Juliet shuddered.
"Are you still there, dear?" the voice slithered. "I hope you haven't hung up on me. That would be very unwise." Juliet snapped her fingers at McNab and pointed urgently at the phone. She was going to trace this mother fucker if it was the last thing she did.
"I'm here," Juliet said, writing down the phone number that had popped up on her phone so McNab could put a trace on it.
"Good," the voice oozed. "Very good, Juliet. I would hate for our time together to end prematurely. Nothing spoils a game like a rushed ending, you know."
"It's Detective O'Hara," Juliet replied stiffly.
"I think Juliet looks much better on a tomb stone," the voice said softly. "Such a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl."
"A pretty girl with a gun," Juliet said coldly, trying not to shudder.
"Yes," the voice laughed. "You will make a delightful addition to my collection, Ms. O'Hara. Unless, of course, your psychic wins the game. Although...it seems he has off to a rough start, wouldn't you agree?"
"What do you mean?" Juliet whispered, her heart hammering wildly against her chest.
"You mean...you don't know?" the voice said, feigning surprise. "Well, I am sure you will find out soon enough." He laughed coldly. "I look forward to meeting you in person, Detective O'Hara. I think you will make a most beautiful number."
"Wait," Juliet cried. "What did you mean? What did you do to Shawn?"
But the line was dead leaving nothing but a hollow dial tone clamoring in his wake. Juliet looked up sharply at McNab, but was not encouraged by the expression on his face.
"Tell me you were able to trace that sick bastard," she growled.
"The call came from a pay phone down by Shawn's office," McNab said awkwardly.
"Send a team down there," Juliet ordered. "Maybe we can find something on him."
"Juliet," McNab began.
"Do it," Juliet snapped. "I don't care what it takes. We are going to find something on this guy. Check the areas cameras and see if you can get an I.D. FIND SOMETHING, Buzz. I don't care what you have to do."
Buzz nodded weakly and turned on his heel, leaving Juliet to deal with the snakes that seemed to be writhing in her belly. She immediately dialed Lassiter's number, but after six rings it went straight to voice mail.
"Dammit," she swore. "Carlton, for once in your life, pick up your goddamn phone!"
She grabbed her purse and her keys and made for the door. She would drive until she found them. Shawn would have picked someplace close to the pier. The ebb and flow of the ocean waves calmed him. And there was never a time when he needed to be calm more than he did now.
As she made her way out the door she was nearly bowled over by Henry. He was frantic and his eyes were wide and scared. The phone Shawn had bought him for emergencies was clenched tightly in his fist. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
"Shawn's in the hospital," Henry said hoarsely. "Nobody will tell me anything over the phone." He buried his face in his hands. "Jesus, Juliet. If something happens to my kid I don't know what I will do. What am I supposed to do?"
Juliet wanted to be strong for him, wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay, but she couldn't. What was he supposed to do? For the first time in a long time, Juliet had no idea. And it terrified her.