The only Way Out

When she finally summons the willpower to turn around and face him, her hand firmly around the handle of her gun, she sees something she didn´t expect. Not a murderer, looming in the dark, with glowing eyes, hungry for her blood. Not a predator, more resembling a wolf than the soft and gentle human being she knows. Not a bloodthirsty killer, ready to finish her off. What she sees is so unexpected that she momentarily loses the grip of her gun.

It´s Shawn, is all she can think. Oh god, is this possible? Is it him after all? Is he still in there?

The figure before her is bloody, red splashed all over his white jumpsuit. He´s holding his side, as if the blood were still gushing out from a wound.

It´s not his blood, it´s theirs. Don´t fall for that. He killed five people on his way out, decapitated a woman and placed her head on an IV pole. This man isn´t Shawn. Shawn is dead. This man is a devil. A monster. And he doesn´t deserve to live. Not in this body.

"Don´t move." she orders, discharging her gun, but the pleading look in his eyes makes her falter all over again. Are those tears she sees glisten in his eyes?

"Jules." his voice is croaked, so quiet, as if it wants to break for good. He swallows. And then so quiet she can barely hear it. "Please."

She hesitates, only for a moment. "I know what you did." she tells him. "I will not fall for that."

He closes his eyes, tears falling out, flung by the shaking of his head. "I know." he chokes. "I know, I saw it. I saw it all. Through his eyes." he looks up at her, so desperate. "I couldn´t do anything to stop him. I …"

And this time when he chokes, and more tears spill down his face, Juliet believes him. It is Shawn. Dear god, it really is Shawn.

"Shawn?" she asks and when he turns to step forward she straightens her gun again, warningly. "Don´t." her voice breaks too. "Just … stay there."

And he does, nodding in agreement. "I´m scared, Jules." he tells her. "I have no way of escaping him. He´s always there. Always whispering. Into my head."

Juliet´s hand is shaking. Her whole mind longs for release. "What do you want me to do?" she asks, and as if he only waited for her to drop this question, his eyes light up, with new desperate hope.

"I think I know how to stop this." he tells her. "How to beat him. But I can´t do it alone."

"How?" she demands, a part of her still on her guard, warning her not to fall for an act, Jack might pull here. This could still be something totally faked. And only her soft heart that still wants to believe that her Shawn could still be saved, would play into his hands, make her believe him.

She knows how these men work. They use the most vulnerable part of their victims against them, to bring them down. And this is her vulnerable part. Her heart. Her hopes. But she won´t let him do this. She won´t allow him to corrupt this for his own sick plans.

Shawn´s eyes flicker, down to the ground, as if unsure if he should go on.

"How do you want to beat him?" Juliet demands, and on the spur of the moment, she adds: "You know that Carlton is on his way here."

For a moment, Shawn seems to be caught off guard by this news. But his surprise vanishes only a second later, and he nods. "Good." he says. "That´s good. Maybe he can do it."

"Do what?"

And he swallows, a big lump in his throat. "Kill me." he whispers, hoarsely.

Juliet is too shocked for the moment, to keep her cry contained: "What? Are you crazy?"

"This might be the only chance." he tells her. "If I can´t defeat him, he´ll take over for good. And no one will ever be save again. You know what he did. He got out. And he´ll keep getting out. I can´t let this happ ..."

He stops, as if a wave of pain just hit him, and he winces, face distorted with angry fear. Juliet takes a step back, realizing for the first time, how much closer she stood to Shawn. Much closer than she should.

He stumbles, just a little bit forward, catching his own fall on her armchair. She watches him fight, against something invisible to her, and it´s eating up her insides, not to be able to do anything.

"Shawn!" she calls out for him, when she can´t stand it any longer, and as if her call made it happen, he looks up. Something in his eyes looks different, she knows that at once.

"Hello, Jules." he says and it makes her blood run cold.

"No." she can only breath the word. "Please."

"Oh, dear, you don´t have to beg." he says and straightens up, only to be hit by a new wave of pain, that makes him wince.

"Jules." he cries, voice suppressed. "Shoot … him. Shoot …"

"This is not your choice, Shawn." Jack shouts, enraged and he jumps forward, towards Juliet, before she can fathom what just happened. A shot leaves her gun, but too late. It hits the wall, and something, she can´t even say what, hits her, knocking her off her feet.

No.

All she can see are limps. His feet to her side, his form looming over her, and hands that grab her hair, pulling her up.

No.

"Jules." a desperate cry and the hand lets go of her.

"NOOOO!" the hand grabs her hair again, before she can crawl away. "She´s mine now."

And a jerk of this iron hand on her head, throws her around. A heavy thud and Shawn lies on the ground, next to her. His fingers are lose, not in her hair anymore, and she realizes, that she wasn´t even meant to be thrown around. That she got only trapped in the momentum of his fight with himself.

As fast as she can she skips back, out of his reach, and just in time as it seems. Because his eyes flash again, when he realizes that he´s losing his pray. He struggles up, to come after her, and Juliet dives, for her gun.

Shawn is faster though, and his hands are on the gun just a heartbeat before hers. She fights for it, kicks out, to get him off. But he pulls and in the end he has the gun. Juliet stares in shock, as he raises it and aims it. His eyes are on her, so desperate, and he turns the gun around, at himself.

Juliet hears her own cry, just before the shot drowns out everything else. If Shawn hadn´t already been on the ground, he would have dropped now. But this way he only winces, holding his abdomen, an expression of utter surprise on his face, as if he hadn´t expected it to hurt that much.

This was so typical for him, doing something totally brave and yet so totally stupid, not even thinking about the consequences. And it is so much Shawn that Juliet feels tears stinging her eyes, pain worming through her chest.

No, please no.

"Shawn."

And then the door gets busted, making her wince all over again.

"O´HARA!" Carlton shouts, and when he sees Shawn on the ground, along with her, he jumps to her side, gun aiming at a bleeding Shawn.

"No." she cries, holding out her hands. "It was him." she tries to tell him. "He shot himself. Shawn is …" but she doesn´t know what Shawn is right now. All she can do is stare at him, lying in his own blood, his eyes still so awake, still so desperate.

"Jules …" he manages, just before Jack resurfaces, with rage and fury. His eyes fly upwards, to Lassiter, and his anger vanishes behind mad laughter. As if all of this was just hilarious.

Carlton is shaken by it, Juliet sees it, but he doesn´t let it show.

"You son of a bitch." he growls pointing his gun for emphasis. "You´re going back to prison, you hear me?"

But Shawn only keeps laughing, until his eyes find Juliet again.

"You think so, my dear?" he asks. "You heard what he told you." And he shows her a bloody smile, teeth red with crimson. "I´ll never be gone. Not for as long as you live."

Juliet feels a shiver running down her spine at those words, whispered, like a promise. And then there is Shawn again, his face distorted with the greatest pain, his scream blood curling. And so agonizingly Shawn.

"O´Hara." Carlton tries to drag her up, to make her get away from him, but she can only close her eyes, understanding at last. Understanding that Shawn had been right. That this is the only way that this can end. And that she might have been right in the end too. When this was over one of them would be dead.

"O´Hara."

Carlton´s voice is shaking too. And Juliet opens her eyes.

"Shoot him." she speaks, and she can´t believe how even her voice is.

Her gaze meets Shawn´s, only for a moment, before the fight continues between the two men that share this body. But the short glimpse she catches is enough. He knows, and he understands. This is what he wants. And so she repeats it.

"Shoot him."

When Carlton is still hesitating, she shouts at him.

"He´s losing the battle, don´t you see it?! Shoot him or he´ll lose it for good. He´ll never …"

And the shot rings out. Before she´s ready. Before she had a chance to look at him only one last time. She stares, at Shawn, slacking down, with a sigh almost of relieve, and the smell of Carlton´s gun is still in her nose, far too strong. All she can hear afterward is her own pounding heart.

...

The year following this fateful night in Juliet´s apartment is slow, and very painful. The most painful year Henry can remember. And yet … in the end it´s not the worst that could have happened, he muses, in the deafening silence of his living room. The living room where he´d spend Christmas after Christmas, trying to guess his son´s present better than he guessed his. He barely ever won. And now, after all that has happened, he can´t help but wonder why.

A little more than a year, for him to think back, on all the possible turns in all of their lives. All the possible mistakes that he could have prevented, that eventually must have lead to all of this. Because who else is to be blamed if not him? He was his father. He´d trained him. He´d made him.

It´s true what he´d said in that interrogation room. He was his creature. And now he can´t ignore that any longer.

Henry sighs, deeply, thinking back of that night, a year ago. Juliet´s pale expression, blood on her cheek, where Shawn´s hand had touched her, just before he´d slipped away. Lassiter´s jaw, working almost constantly. Gus, so quiet and yet so anxious and scared for his friend´s life. Henry still couldn´t understand, how Juliet could ever insist on letting Shawn die.

"It was his choice." he hears her words again, hollow and empty, just like her eyes. "He wanted it. We should respect that. And accept it."

But accepting had never been Henry´s greatest asset. He was his son, for cry out loud. And he couldn´t allow this to end like this. This hadn´t been meant to happen. Never. Never in this universe.

Of course he´d called the ambulance, of course he´d raged for them to save his only son. And oh god how long this night had been, how often had he jumped, when a nurse had walked by, as if he couldn´t wait to finally get the news at last, that it had been for nothing. That Shawn was dead. And maybe, on some level, Henry had even wanted this, knowing that Juliet had been right after all. Maybe the attempt to save his life had been nothing more than his conscious try to at least keep up the facade of fatherly duty. Even if he knew better.

When the word had reached them at last, with the early beams of sunlight shining through the windows, it had been a shock, and it had been one Henry had not expected anymore.

Alive.

This word alone had made his world spin, all over again. For the better or the worst he hadn´t been able to tell. And somehow he still can´t say if he´s happy or devastated by the fact that his son is still on this earth.

They´d allowed to see him, and Shawn´s wrists and ankles had been bound, so tight as if they were afraid he could try what he´d done earlier that day, one more time, even in his half dead state. But of course he didn´t. He was the same old Shawn they had all known for so long, all his life in Henry´s and Gus´ case. But was it real?

Henry had stood there, while all the others had cried and laughed happily over Shawn´s recovery. Even Lassiter had smirked, relieved. Everyone had been happy. Everyone. And he´d just stood there, unable to say only one word.

He´d seen his son´s eyes, and if he´s totally honest with himself now, he can´t remember anything that would have shown him anyone else in those eyes but Shawn. His son. And yet, he´d been totally paralyzed. Their eyes had met, several times, and Shawn had definitely asked him, without words, to come to him, just like the others.

But it never happened. Something in Henry had just refused to move.

Maybe it still does. Maybe this is the reason why he´s not answering the door now, when it knocks.

The doctors can tell him all they want. About suppressing the dark personality after this battle with himself, and the shot he fired at himself. About symbolically killing the demonic side of himself, by conscious decision, and a little help from Lassiter´s gun. About therapy and tests and all that scientific psychological crap. But something inside Henry will never be able to see this man as the same, ever again.

His son has died that night in Juliet´s apartment. Maybe even much longer ago. When he´d been eighteen? Fifteen? Henry doesn´t know anymore. Memory has become deceptive lately.

He´s not sure anymore if he remembers correctly that night in the hospital, after Shawn had just barely escaped death. Or the day in court months and uncountable tests later, when the jury finally declared him a free man, on probation but free, to live his life as a cured, sane person again. Henry isn´t sure anymore if he doesn´t interpret the smile on Shawn´s face wrong now, seeing it through the eyes of a marked man. Hasn´t his son every right to be relieved at the verdict? He got his life back after all.

No, Henry thinks to himself now, as the door gets opened cautiously. It´s not the worst that could have happened. And maybe, just maybe, they all could really pick up their lives again at last. And maybe Juliet was right to make him agree to this meeting. After over a year it is about time. Isn´t it?

He turns around, and faces the man standing in his living room. Juliet waits behind him at the door, tensed, and expecting. After a while, she just closes the door behind herself, and gives them time, to talk it through. But somehow Henry already knows that they won´t be talking. Not for long.

...

"How was it?" Juliet asks, when Shawn drops into the passenger seat, but his face already tells her. "I´m sorry."

"It´s not your fault." he takes her hand, resting on his leg, and squeezes, betraying his own words with the desperate gesture.

When he tells her it´s okay, she knows it´s not. Still she doesn´t say anything. She knows them both for too long to argue, when they don´t want to argue any longer. It would probably hurt him even more, if she´d try. This attempt of bringing them together has been her last hope.

But maybe some things are just not meant to be. And after all that has happened, who can blame any of them? It´s a miracle that they´re all still alive, so maybe it´s best to leave it at that, and not hope for more than this sort-of-happy end.

Eventually she enters the gear and drives off, leaving Henry´s house behind, slowly but steadily. Maybe this is the last time that they´ve come here altogether. And maybe this is just the way a story like this has to end. With some sacrifices that just can´t be avoided.
But she still has Shawn, and he´s still the same man she´s fallen in love with years ago, and that alone is a reason for her to enjoy this day, no matter what they left behind at Henry´s. The sun is up and the day is friendly, so full of life and new hope for the future.

Shawn´s smile is not as bright and lighthearted anymore as it used to be. But in some way this is good. If it had been, she might have been worried about him. Might have believed that something unhealthy was still working in his mind. But of course he remembers and this memory sometimes clouds his pleasure.

But only sometimes. Not today. Not now that they´re strolling down the street, hand in hand, glancing at people and windows, just like a totally normal couple. And the little scratch on Shawn´s wrist is nothing to be worried about, even though Juliet can´t remember him having this before they went to Henry´s.

But she´s sure there is a perfectly rational reason for that. One that she doesn´t want to worry about right now. Not now while they eat an ice cream, just like a totally normal couple. And Shawn buys her a pair of earrings, just like every normal boyfriend would do.

Like the not totally normal boyfriend that he is, he gets himself something too. A small unobtrusive necklace, made of brown leather. Juliet frowns at the symbol he´s chosen.

"A tomahawk?" she asks, looking at him. "I didn´t know you were into this Indian stuff."

He simply smiles at her, and shrugs a shoulder. "Never too late to try something new in life." he tells her.

And I definitely have to try something new from now on, he adds in his mind. The old method will cause too much attention. But as I said. It´s never too late. Never.

When he lays an arm around Jules´ waist and leads her away down the street, a mirror image, seen by no one but him, is left behind, beating powerless against the surface of his prison. But not a single one of those beats is heard by anyone that passes by.

~~ THE END ~~