Chapter 10

As Shawn started to come around he began to notice a few things, he was lying on a much softer surface than before, his side was now bandaged up, and he was met with the familiar smell of disinfectant, which could only mean one thing, he was in the hospital. Shawn was so relieved, they'd found him, he was safe now. He tried to open his eyes, but it was so hard, they were ridiculously heavy, although he wasn't too surprised about that, after all, there was no saying what concoction of drugs would be getting pumped through his body to fight the pneumonia...And whatever other diseases he'd probably contracted after being confined in that unsanitary hellhole. He knew he should probably fall back to sleep, after all, ever since he'd gotten sick, all everyone had been banging on about was him getting some rest, but he just couldn't resist laying his eyes on the beautiful, chocolatey goodness that was his best friend...

"You're not Gus."

Forster looked down at him, "No Shawn, I am not."

Shawn furrowed his brow in confusion, Why was Forster there? Shouldn't he be in jail or something? After all, he was a serial killer, and where was Gus, his Dad, Jules, Lassie or even a doctor who wasn't a psycho-killer for that matter? If he'd been rescued and was now back in the hospital, then at least one of them should have been there, right? It didn't make any sense. Unless...He wasn't in the hospital.

But if he wasn't in the hospital, then where was he? It sure looked and smelt like one. Shawn knew that somewhere in his mind was the answer to that question, but his head was so foggy that he was having a hard time concentrating on anything. He knew he had to try though, and after a good while, a memory started to surface...

Shawn's smile quickly faltered when he was met with a set of stairs, "Seriously?"

To his right he noticed there was another room, and before making his way up the stairs, Shawn took a peek inside. The room appeared to be some sort of make-shift operating room, with a gurney in the centre, and all sorts of medical paraphernalia lying around it...

"You want my organs!" Shawn suddenly slurred out in a panic when he realised where he was, and he struggled with all of his strength to break free from his restraints. The only problem was, he wasn't actually restrained at all, and the fight he felt like he was putting up, in reality, was merely subtle flailing. The truth was, his body was so weak now, that he barely had the strength to move at all.

Still, despite all that, it was apparent that the 'psychic' was becoming increasingly more distressed with the situation, "Shawn, you need to relax." Forster could see the younger man's eyes shifting between all the medical paraphernalia in the room, and it wasn't hard to determine why, "You know this is the room I use to remove their organs, don't you? You can sense it, even in your confused state." The unhinged doctor stared at him, in what could only be described as fascination, "You think I want to use your organs for my patients too, and you are correct Shawn, I do. After all, it would be wasteful not to take them, don't you agree?" He could see the 'psychic's' brow furrowing in concentration as he spoke, "But let me assure you, I will not be removing any organs while you are still alive."

Shawn blinked a few times as he tried to process what Forster was telling him, which took considerably longer than it should have done. After a while, Shawn looked up at him and asked, "Changed your mind...Gonna kill me?" The fake psychic was having trouble forming full sentences, he was starting to feel disorientated, and keeping his mind focused was becoming more and more difficult.

Forster shook his head, "Shawn, this is getting tiresome now, how many times do I have to tell you, I am not going to kill you?!" He yelled, but Shawn just stared up at him blankly. Composing himself, he continued, "besides, it's not as though I have long to wait. You're very sick Shawn, you're condition is deteriorating rapidly." He told him, "Honestly, I'd be very surprised if you even managed to make it through the night..."

Shawn's eyes narrowed, and he squinted up at the other man, as he tried to concentrate on what he was telling him. After a while, Shawn asked, "Am I dying?"

"Yes Shawn, you..."

Then all the commotion started to happen, the door was kicked open with a loud bang, new people flooded the room, a familiar voice yelled, "Hands up, where I can see them!" Followed by, "Get down on the ground!" And for a moment, Shawn wondered if those orders were for him, but when he saw Forster raise his arms in the air, and slowly start to kneel down, he realised they were not.

Suddenly, there were people all around Shawn, and he tried to shift himself away from them, unable to comprehend what was happening, and what they were planning on doing with him. A face came into view, and he squinted up at it in confusion, his very weak struggling coming to a stop, "Dad?"

Henry placed a hand on Shawn's shoulder, "Yeah kid, it's me." He gave his son's shoulder a light squeeze, "Just let the paramedics do their thing, OK?"

Shawn stared up at him and nodded his head slowly when he finally understood what his father had said.

The next familiar face to come into view was that of his best friend, and his lips curled up into a smile, "You found me."

"Yeah dude." Gus returned the smile, "It took me a while though." He admitted, "I mean, you weren't exactly being coherent over the phone, but after I finally figured out what you were trying to tell me, the creepy warehouse we pass every time we go for smoothies, sorta seemed like the most fitting place to hold someone hostage."

Shawn just stared at him blankly for a moment as the paramedics lifted him onto another gurney, then he raised a finger weakly, and looked at Gus, "I'm proud of you!"

Gus and Henry followed as the paramedics made their way out of the room with Shawn, and up the stairs. Carrying a patient up a set of stairs was always somewhat of a struggle, but they finally managed it, and just as they made their way out of the warehouse, and waled by Lassiter and Juliet, who were shoving a cuffed Forster into the back of a police vehicle, something caught Shawn's eye, "Gus!" He called out weakly, his words laced with desperation.

Gus rushed over to his friends side, "Yeah?" He asked, worry etched all over his face, "What is it?" He followed as the paramedics took the gurney towards the ambulance, and lowered his head as his friend whispered something in his ear.

As Gus listened however, the concern on his face quickly turned into an impatient glare, aimed at the exact same person he'd been worried about in the first place, "I'm not stealing another dude's shoelaces Shawn!"

Shawn looked up at his friend, eyes wide, "But, pineapples..."

"I don't care!" Gus replied, in a high pitched voice.

Shawn just tsked and looked away.

Gus tsked too, then placed a hand on his best friend's arm as the paramedics started to lift him up into the ambulance, "Feel better buddy."

Henry held his face in his hands and shook his head with a heavy sigh as Gus got up and started to pace up and down the waiting room again, for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour or so sine they'd been there, "Gus..." He said in an impatient tone that he usually saved for Shawn.

Gus turned to him, and then looked down at his feet, as though just realising what he'd been doing, "Right...Sorry." He said, sitting back down in his seat.

"Any news?" Juliet asked, as she and Lassiter made their way towards them.

"Not yet." Henry answered, "What about Forster?"

"He confessed to everything." Lassiter answered.

Henry noticed the head detective rub at his hand unconsciously as he said that, a smile appearing on the older man's face when he saw the bruises on Lassiter's knuckles. His only regret was not getting to rough Forster up himself.

Shawn's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and they were having a lot of trouble stabilising him. He was extremely confused and disorientated, his fever was now way past the 105 degrees mark, his heart was racing, his skin was clammy and mottled, he was suffering from severe breathlessness, and his blood pressure was dangerously low.

"Shawn?" Dr Samuals' asked suddenly when his patient became unresponsive, "Shawn?!"

"He's crashing!" A slightly younger male Doctor called out as Shawn started to go into cardiac arrest, "Code Blue!"

The doctors and nurses around him quickly removed his pillow, lowered the sides of the bed, and placed a board beneath his back.

Dr Samuals' began to administer CPR, and started compressions, "One, two, three, four, five..." He grabbed the defibrillator paddles, "Clear!" He shouted, as he shocked his patient, but there was still no heart activity. He resumed compressions, and then grabbed the defibrillator paddles again, "Clear!" Still nothing

"Come on Shawn, do not do this to me." Dr Samuals' begged, as he started the compressions again, "You can't die now, not after everything that's happened...Clear!" He yelled, shocking him again, and shutting his eyes tight when there was still no change, "Come on Shawn, please!" He started compressions again, then felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Doctor..."

Dr Samuals' knew exactly what that tone meant, they were asking him to stop, they thought his patient was a lost cause, but he couldn't give up, he wouldn't give up, "I can revive him." He insisted, grabbing the paddles, "Clear..." Still nothing.

"Dr Samuals', there's nothing more we can do."

"I just need a few more minutes." He started compressions again, much more desperately this time, "Just give me a few more minutes!"

He could feel hands pulling him away now, yet he still fought desperately against them, "Doctor, you need to stop." The younger male doctor told him gently, "He's gone..."