Chapter 4
"No way Shawn..." Gus kept his attention on the road as he spoke, "That's gotta be one of your dumbest ideas yet!"
Shawn pouted at his best friend from where he was sitting in the passenger seat, "But you promised you'd help with my investigation..."
"Yeah...So I could do all the running around why you stay at home and take it easy, not so you can go undercover Shawn."
"Dude, who looks more homeless right now, me or you?" He asked through chattering teeth, wrapping his arms around his shivering body, "...I mean look at me, I'm a mess." He just couldn't get warm.
"You look sick Shawn, not homeless..." Worried that his friend was burning up again, Gus put his hand to his friends forehead without taking his eyes off the road. To his surprise Shawn actually didn't feel too warm at all, so if he did have a fever, it obviously wasn't an high one at least.
The fake psychic wafted away his friend's hand, "Homeless people look sick, plus look at the state of my clothes, they're all torn and dirty from the crash...And my hair..." He took a look in the rearview mirror and cringed.
Satisfied that it wasn't a high fever that was making his friend so cold, Gus turned the heat right up until Shawn's shivering lessened "That still doesn't make you look homeless."
"Maybe not, but that flea-bitten old jacket that my dad refuses to throw away will be the perfect addition to my cover."
"Dude, you must be sicker than you look if you really think you're Dad'll let you borrow that thing."
Shawn smirked "Who said anything about asking his permission?" His smirk soon faltered and turned into a grimace as he rested his forehead into the palm of his hands. He felt horrible, and it was getting harder and harder to keep up the charade that he was feeling well enough to continue investigating the murder, when honestly, sleeping was the only thing the fake psychic actually felt like doing, and the fact he was feeling even sicker after being in the hospital was making him nervous...What if the murderer followed me to the hospital? What if he poisoned me? He thought uneasily. That's it! The murderer poisoned me to make me sicker, and now he's waiting for me to go back to the hospital so he can finish me off for good!
Gus frowned in concern, despite their banter he'd been keeping an eye on Shawn, there'd been something off about his friend since they'd left the hospital, "That's it Shawn, I can tell you're not feeling good at all, I'm taking you home."
"No!" Shawn cried out, then erupted into a fit of coughing. He needed to get his plan underway right now, why he was still well enough to do so. He did consider telling Gus about his theory, but with Gus refusing to believe he'd even witnessed a murder and all, he decided there really was no point. Feeling his best friend's worried stare, the fake psychic added, "Listen man, just drive me to my Dad's place, I'll grab the jacket, ask the homeless people some questions and then you can drive me straight home and take care of me."
Gus snorted, "I ain't your man servant, take care of yourself!"
"But Gus, I'm sick!" He whined.
Gus rolled his eyes, it was no use, Shawn was going to go undercover whether he helped or not, "So, what's the plan?" he asked as they reached Henry Spencer's house.
Shawn grinned, "Well..."
"Hey Dad!" Shawn flashed a weak smile when his father opened the door. He'd intended for his greeting to be a little more enthusiastic, but the short walk from the Blueberry to the house had sapped what little energy he had left.
"Damn it kid, you look terrible."
"Is that the way you treat all your gue..." Shawn suddenly felt incredibly weak and felt his legs begin to buckle. The next thing he became aware of were two sets of hands holding him up and ushering him towards the couch, "Hey, is there a reason you're manhandling me?" His voice was shaky as he tried to make light of the situation.
After sitting Shawn down on the couch, Henry put his hand to his sons forehead, "Gus go get the thermometer...It's were I always keep it." Once Gus had left to do just that, the older man asked, "When's the last time you ate?"
"I had breakfast before I left the hospital this morning." He neglected to tell him about the part when he'd snuck into the restroom straight after and brought said meal right back up again.
Henry grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around the younger man, "You haven't stopped shivering since you got here." As he said that, Gus returned with the thermometer and passed it to the older man, who put it into his sons mouth. He took it out again once it had beeped and read it aloud, "102.4...Why don't you go and rest upstairs in your old bedroom? Your bed'll be comfier than the couch at least."
"I don't need to rest, I'm fi..." He yelped when Gus kicked his leg, then suddenly remembered the plan..."First...I'll make up some elaborate excuse to get upstairs..." Shawn had begun, "Since when do you need to make an excuse to go upstairs Shawn?" Gus had asked... He turned to his father, "On second thoughts, my old room sounds like a great idea." Shawn got to his feet and started to walk unsteadily up the stairs.
"Need any help?" Henry offered.
"I'm good." Shawn called back. Of course Shawn had no real intention of even entering his old room. As he reached the top of the stairs he recalled the next part of his plan.."Then I'll sneak into my Dad's room and grab the jacket from the back of the closet, where he always keeps it..."
The fake psychic was about to enter his father's room when the horrible dizzy feeling from earlier returned, and the throbbing inside his head intensified...He really needed to lie down. Shawn somehow managed to get himself into his old room and slumped down onto his bed, shutting his eyes tight until the feeling had finally passed, "I feel like crap..." He mumbled, getting into the bed properly, not to sleep of course, no, he would just lay there a while until he felt up to moving again...
As his eyes started to close, he thought of the final part of his plan..."And what will I be doing why you're fooling around upstairs Shawn?" Gus had asked, 'Isn't it obvious Gus? You're my distraction Gus...'
Shawn groaned and rubbed his eyes wearily, before suddenly realising where he was and what he was supposed to be doing there, "Crap...Did I fall asleep?" He got out of bed way too fast and had to steady himself before walking at a much more sensible pace out of his room and into his Father's room. He looked in the closet where the jacket was always kept, only to find that it wasn't even there. After looking another three times (just to make sure), he started to look in the other closets and drawers, and when he still couldn't find it, he had another look in the first closet.
If it wasn't for the fact that all his searching around for the jacket was starting to make his headache worse, he would have probably continued doing it, but instead he (or rather his body) decided to admit defeat and head back downstairs.
"Oh, look whose finally up." His father greeted, "Are you feeling any better?"
Shawn looked at him in confusion, "A little...How long was I out?" He sat down carefully on the couch and wrapped the blanket around himself.
"A few hours."
"Hours?!"Shawn looked at the clock which read '13:01'. He suddenly realised that they were the only ones in the room, "So...When did Gus bail on me?"
"About an hour ago." Henry answered, standing up, "You lay down there and I'll go make you some soup."
"Are you gonna sing me a lullaby too?" The younger man snickered as he got comfortable.
"Don't push it Shawn."
A while later Henry returned with said soup and passed it to his son, who scrunched his nose up at it, "Thanks...But I think I'll pass."
"Eat the soup Shawn."
"You eat the soup!"
"For crying out loud, why do you have to make everything so difficult?"
"Oh I'm sorry...Is my being sick an inconvenience for you?"
"Don't get cute with me kid." He took the soup off Shawn, "I just wanted to help you get your strength up, but if you don't wanna get better..."
Shawn rolled his eyes, "Fine, pass me the damn soup..."
"You want anything to dip in that?" Henry smirked as he passed the soup back.
The younger man shot is father a look, "Don't think I won't throw this all over you."
Gus returned just as Shawn was taking his last mouthful of soup, "Really Dude? You couldn't have gotten here before this torture to my taste-buds started?"
Gus' eyes lit up, "Oh, you made soup Mr Spencer?"
"Yeah, I saved a little for you." He headed for the kitchen, "At least somebody appreciates my cooking."
"Boiling up soup from a can is hardly cooking Dad."
"Oh, and takeout is?" Henry shot back.
Shawn leaned over to his friend, "Dude...I couldn't find it anywhere."
"Find what?"
"My Dad's old jacket."
"Oh the jacket...I snuck it out and put it into the 'Blueberry' once I realised your whole 'sick act' wasn't actually an act."
"Why didn't you just wake me?"
"Seriously?"
"Here you go Gus."
"Thanks Mr Spencer." Gus took a mouthful of soup, "Mmm, this is so good..."
Shawn rolled his eyes, "You are such a suck up."
"Suck it Shawn!"
"You suck it!" The fake psychic shot back, then added impatiently, "Dude will you hurry it up already..."
As Gus drove out of Henry's driveway, Shawn put his dad's jacket on. "Hey, how do I look?" He started to cough as the dust from the old musty fraying jacket irritated his throat."
"Sick, exhausted..." Gus answered, "And that jacket's too big for you."
"Perfect." Shawn grinned.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence Shawn suddenly began to sweat profusely, "Gus pull over!"
"Huh?"
"Dude!" Shawn pleaded desperately.
Realising what was happening Gus quickly pulled over and watched as his friend got out, pulling a face when he heard the retching, "You good?" He asked as Shawn climbed back into the passenger seat.
Shawn just shot his friend a look, "Really?"
"Are you sure you don't wanna go home?" Gus asked when he saw how flushed his friend looked, "Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow."
"If I live that long..." He muttered.
"Hm?"
"Dude...Pull over there!" Shawn signalled.
Gus did just that, then turned to the fake psychic, "Wait...Why am I pulling over here?"
"So the homeless people don't see me getting out of a car..." Shawn rolled his eyes, "Do you want my cover to be blown before I even start?"
"I don't like this Shawn..."
"Dude, just stay in the car and quit being such a man baby!"
"You realise how ironic that statement is coming from you, right?" Gus watched as Shawn trudged out of sight and frowned, "I really don't like this..."
Shawn turned around the corner to a local park that was often frequented by the homeless. Luckily today was no different, and the fake psychic wasted no time in attempting to get any of them to answer is questions...
"Hey, I'm looking for my friend..." He tried on a middle-aged looking guy, with long dark hair and a greying beard.
The man just stared at him, then walked away.
Shawn turned his attention to a fair haired man, "I think she mentioned coming to this park some times..."
Again he was completely ignored.
He turned his attention to a young woman, "Last time I saw her...She really didn't look too good..." He knew how much of an understatement that was.
Still no one would acknowledge him.
"Oh come on...Why won't anyone help me?!" He groaned out in frustration, leaning back heavily against a brick wall and shutting his eyes. Feeling so ill and exhausted was really starting to get on his nerves, and his Father's stupid flea-bitten jacket was making him feel way too hot and sweaty, not to mention it was really starting to make his chest hurt. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea afterall...
"You don't look so good yourself..." A gruff voiced interrupted Shawn from his musings.
The fake psychic lifted his eyelids slowly to find an older looking bearded man standing there, wearing a torn beanie hat, fingerless gloves, and a grey coat.
The man removed one of his gloves and put his palm to Shawn's sweaty forehead, "Whoa...That's some fever you got there kid." He grabbed hold of the younger man's arm and ushered him forward.
"Don't suppose you've seen my friend...?"
"Let's just get you settled down here first." The man said as he helped the fake psychic onto the park bench.
"She's homeless..." Shawn added feverishly.
"Yeah...Figured she would be." The man dipped his glove into a puddle of water and pressed it against the younger man's head.
Shawn's eyes widened, "Thanks...?"
The man just nodded his head, "So...What did you say your friend was called?"
"Um..."
The man frowned and pressed the back of his hand gently against Shawn's burning cheeks, "OK then...What did she look like?"
"She's in her late twenties...Maybe early thirties? A little shorter than me, light hair, wearing a large jacket"
"Huh...? It's not her then..." The man mused.
Shawn looked at him curiously, "Not who...?"
"Rita...The young woman the cops found dead yesterday."
"What did she look like?"
"Short red hair...wore a large green sweater."
..."About 5ft 5, short red hair, wearing a large woolie sweater." The Doctor had told Shawn. It had to be her, Shawn was sure of it.
"...I talked to her a few times." The man continued, "She was a nice girl...I warned her never to go to the clinic on a Tuesday..."
Tuesday? That was the night he'd witnessed the murder, "What's so special about Tuesdays?"
"Wednesdays and Fridays are a bad idea too..."
"Why?"
"Because that's when the Grim Reaper does his bidding." On Shawn's confused look, he elaborated, "The last few weeks, people like us who've gone to the clinic on any of those days, have turned up dead afterwards."
Shawn raised an eyebrow, "Where is this clinic?"
"It's part of the hospital." He felt Shawn's head again when he noticed the younger man had started to shiver, "You're just goin' hot and cold ain't ya? And this damn fever of yours sure ain't budging any..." He frowned, not liking how laboured the younger man's breathing sounded, "I know it's a terrible time to suggest this, but...I really think you could do with seeing a Doctor at the clinic..."
"Seriously...?"
"Hey...At least it's only Thursday."
"Where the hell are you Shawn?" Gus tapped nervously on the steering wheel, his heart sinking when he saw his feverish looking friend walking clumsily towards him. He quickly jumped out of the car and rushed to his friends side, ushering him into the passenger seat, "Damnit Shawn, I knew this was a bad idea...I'm taking you home right now, and that's final!"
"No...Hospital." Shawn managed breathlessly.
Gus' concern increased tenfold when his friend uttered those words, "OK, don't worry...I'll get you there in no time. Just sit back and take it easy." He started the car and drove towards the hospital.
On their way there Shawn told him what he'd found out from the homeless man. Gus would've taken Shawn straight home after hearing the real reason they were heading to the hospital, but considering how ill his friend looked he figured taking him to a hospital may not be such a bad idea after all.
When they reached the clinic Gus helped Shawn out of the 'Blueberry', "So, what's the plan?"
"I'm gonna cause a distraction by acting all ill, so you can go take a look at the files..."
"You're gonna act ill?"
The fake psychic shot him a look, "Just remember to take note of any doctors, nurses or whatever... Who work Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays OK?"
"Fine..." Gus stayed close to his friend as they entered the clinic.
"Shawn...Gus?" Juliet called out in surprise.
Lassiter turned his attention to the pair of them, "Spencer...What the hell are you wearing?"
"I'm undercover..." He slurred feverishly, "As a sick guy..."
Juliet leaned over to Gus and whispered, "Another high fever?" To which Gus merely nodded.
"Need to get a look at those files..." Shawn continued, "The Grim Reaper only comes on Tuesdays, Wednesdays...And Fridays."
The junior detective couldn't help but notice the beads of sweat coming from the fake psychic's head, "OK Shawn, why don't you let Gus take you home and we'll..."
"No!" Shawn protested, "I'm gonna solve this case...And no ones gonna stop me!"
"...Let me finish." She scolded gently, "What I was trying to say is... Go home, get some rest and we'll bring the files over to your place once you're feeling a little better...After all, Chief Vic already said she wants you guys consulting on this case."
"She does?" Shawn and Gus exclaimed in surprise.
Juliet nodded, unable to hide the smile from her face at how much Shawn seemed to have perked up.
"OK...Has everybody lost their frickin' minds?!" Lassiter shouted out incredulously, "Spencer can barely stand, and you want to take him out of the hospital?"
"He has a point..." Juliet agreed.
"I'll be fine...I just need to sleep." Shawn protested. There was no way in hell he was going to stay at this hospital, not when his life was in so much peril.
"Well, if you're sure..." Juliet gave in, "Just remember though Shawn, if you want to look at those files..."
"I need to take it easy..." He finished the sentence for her, "I will...Thank's Jules."
"Dude turn the heating down...It's like a sauna in here!" Shawn complained as Gus drove him home.
"It's not even switched on..." Gus shot his friend a worried look, "You sound breathless."
"I know...I think it's the dust from this jacket." He took a deep painful breath, "...Makes my chest hurt."
"Take it off then..."
"But it's cold." Shawn whined through chattering teeth, although he wasted no time in taking the horrid jacket off. He suddenly turned serious, "Hey Dude, Sorry about what I said before..."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't actually think the bike accident was your fault."
Gus raised an eyebrow "OK...If that's seriously been on your mind all this time, then I'm beginning to think Lassie was right when he said you should stay in the hospital."
"Don't be ridiculous Gus," Shawn snorted, satisfied that everything was good with his friend, "Lassie's never right." He rested his head back on his seat and closed his eyes.
"We're here." Gus told him a little while later.
Shawn opened his tired eyes and wiped a shaky hand down his sweat ridden face, "I don't feel so good..." He mumbled weakly as Gus helped him out of the car and into his apartment.