Dahmer entered the basement and dropped the plastic bags to the floor while putting a plate of noodles on the kitchen counter. Gus noticed his hand was freshly bandaged and felt a pang of grumpiness at the obvious lack of duct tape. Dahmer approached him, talking around his wide grin, "I assume you remember the rules?"
Gus glared and nodded. He knew the rules. No talking unless asked a question, answer questions in a quick, clear, and thorough manner. They'd been seared into his brain with the bloody slices on both of their arms.
Dahmer reached out and pulled the duct tape off of Gus' mouth, leaving behind a stinging, prickling sensation across his face. Gus didn't move besides opening his lips enough to take a breath through his mouth. He watched Dahmer carefully, knowing that there was a reason he'd been ungagged.
"You were good yesterday at the lab and we need to make sure you stay fit to answer questions," Dahmer answered his unspoken question as he walked back and grabbed the plate of noodles. "You've earned food and water."
Dahmer came back to him and held out a forkful of food. Gus reluctantly opened his mouth and allowed himself to be fed the cold noodles. He tried to not show any disgust at the overpowering taste of cilantro; of all the things Dahmer had done, this one at least had a bit of poetic justice to it. Gus tried to convince himself that it was his choice to cooperate as he let Dahmer feed him until the plate was empty.
"Good boy." Dahmer said as he turned back to the kitchen counter. Gus rolled his eyes as soon as the bad guy's back was turned.
Shawn sent him a visual: Two dogs eating spaghetti on a moonlit night.
Gus was about to glare at him when Dahmer turned back around, holding a bottle of water. Gus tensed at the sound of the lid twisting off. Dahmer approached him, grabbed his chin and brought the bottle up to his lips; Gus took a deep breath, closed his eyes and focused on drinking instead of choking. Dahmer kept the flow steady and didn't try to cause any problems, but he also didn't remove the bottle until it was completely empty.
Gus gasped quietly for breath once his mouth was clear, and Dahmer petted his head before letting his hand drop to the back of Gus' neck. "See? Doesn't it go so much better when you behave?"
Gus ignored him, too busy realizing there had only been one plate of food and Dahmer wasn't planning on feeding Shawn. The hand tightened around his neck and he realized his mistake. He quickly gritted out an answer, "Yes."
Dahmer grinned and relaxed his hand, shifting it so his thumb could rub gently along Gus' throat, tracing the hand-shaped bruises. Gus closed his eyes and kept himself still as he tried to think of a way to help Shawn. He was a salesman, he could do this. He knew what his client wanted, and he could use that to get what he wanted.
Gus opened his eyes, hating what he was about to ask, but knowing pride wasn't going to do them any good down here. "Permission to speak?"
Dahmer stopped moving his thumb and pressed it slightly into Gus' throat, "That depends. Do you want your friend to be hurt?"
"No, I don't." Gus answered evenly, "I want him to stay alive. You should want that too."
"I have plenty of data from congenital psychics. After his scans tonight, I really don't see why I should care." Dahmer answered with a dangerous edge to his voice.
"You should care because you want me alive for longer than one more night," Gus answered with determination. Shawn sent a concerned ping that Gus quickly ignored. "The only reason I'm cooperating is to keep him safe; the second he's dead, I'm done. I don't care if you hit me or cut me or…" His heart stuttered, but he forced himself to say the words, "...or inject me, I won't answer a thing."
Dahmer dug his thumb deeper into Gus' throat, "I think you're severely overestimating the value of your own life. Your brain can answer plenty of questions once it's outside your skull."
Gus forced out a small laugh, trying hard to not reflexively swallow against the pressure on his windpipe. "Would Rhianna be happy with just a brain? I'm pretty sure her tests and questions need me to be a living, cooperative subject."
Dahmer stilled at his lady's name. Gus pressed his advantage, "I can tell you what she's thinking. All I'm asking for is some food and water for Shawn."
"Tell me, now." Dahmer practically begged.
Gus closed his eyes and focused. Rhianna's smell of lilies had been missing since the day before, so he felt for her pulling electrodes: Smelling his coffee instead of the basement, a list of questions to ask, notes on a video of a vision, rusty water coming out of a faucet.
"She likes the coffee. I'm not telling you more until he's gotten food and water." Gus knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he also knew it was one he had to win if they had any chance of surviving.
"I could just make you tell me." Dahmer said calmly as he looked over at Shawn.
Gus refused to show any weakness, "Sure. But then he bleeds out that much faster and you get even less time with me."
He felt the moment he won as the void flared in anger and the beakers cracked in justification. Dahmer stayed where he was, his hand around Gus' neck, for several more seconds before finally letting go. "Fine. I'll keep the congenital alive, but only as long as you stay cooperative."
Gus nodded in agreement and Dahmer stood straight to make his way towards Shawn. Gus mentally braced himself for what he knew was coming, Shawn seemed to be doing the same thing as he sent a reassuring ping with his broadcast: C3PO walking after his friends, "Here we go again."
Dahmer walked around the back of Shawn's chair, letting his hand trail deliberately over his shoulder. He stopped and ran his hand up Shawn's neck and into his hair before grabbing suddenly and pulling back.
Shawn squeezed his eyes closed as his head was forced back and Gus could feel an echo of the fear from the last time he'd been in that position. Dahmer's eyes trailed down Shawn's exposed throat before looking up and meeting Gus' eyes. He grinned and maintained eye contact as he leaned down to whisper in Shawn's ear. Shawn's thoughts flared red and he tried to pull away, but Dahmer's hand clenched tighter in his hair and kept him still.
He whispered one last thing before giving Shawn's head a rough shake, like a dog shaking a rat. He let go and immediately pulled back a fist to punch Shawn in the gut. Shawn jolted against the duct tape holding him to the back of the chair as he tried to curl up from the hit. He coughed into his gag and his thoughts tinted with static as he swallowed heavily and gasped through his nose.
Gus couldn't help but pull at his restraints again, knowing this was his fault, that it was his idea getting Shawn hurt.
Dahmer watched him struggle and his smile grew. He walked to the stairs, making sure to give Shawn's bad foot a light kick as he walked by. Shawn flinched as his broken leg was jostled and let out a low whine that he quickly stifled. Dahmer left the basement without a second glance.
Gus waited until he could hear Dahmer moving dishes around before he dared to talk, "I'm sorry, I knew it was a risk, but you haven't even gotten water since the truck…"
Shawn gave him a small nod and sent a visual: A dying man in the desert seeing a well in the distance.
"Yeah, I know. Just… please be careful."
Shawn raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I don't know how you're supposed to be careful, just do it." Gus snapped back.
Shawn snickered: A Nike tennis shoe.
Gus clicked his tongue, glad to be able to do it the right way again, "Yes, Shawn. I was clearly talking about a shoe catch phrase. What's next? Got Milk?"
Shawn sent a memory: He finished telling a joke and his best friend choked with milk coming out of his nose.
"Oh my god, why would you remind me of that?!"
Shawn answered with a burst of pride.
"I don't care that it was your proudest moment in third grade, it was the most disgusting moment of my entire school experience!" Gus argued.
Shawn raised his eyebrows in surprise and sent another memory: He was sneaking into the girl's bathroom with his best friend…
"No." Gus cut him off, "Nope, we vowed to never talk about that again."
Shawn smugly sent a visual of a roll of duct tape.
"I don't care that you're not talking, it still-"
The stairs creaked and Gus immediately closed his mouth, annoyed at himself for losing track of where Dahmer was while he enjoyed their argument.
Dahmer came into view, carrying another plate of noodles in one hand and a scalpel in the other. Gus traded a look with Shawn, they both needed to be careful.
Dahmer walked right up to Shawn and pointed at him with the knife. "If you say a single word…" He pointed at Gus, "I take it out of his skin. Understood?"
Shawn nodded, watching the scalpel carefully. Dahmer pocketed it and reached out, tearing off the duct tape. Shawn stayed quiet, working his jaw as he was finally able to open his mouth. Dahmer didn't give him any time to enjoy his new freedom as he lifted a forkful of noodles. Shawn hesitated before opening his mouth and accepting the food. He sent a litany of complaints to Gus as Dahmer continued to feed him: A handful of herbs compared to a full container of herbs.
Gus agreed, even if it had been a proper seasoning for the Italian casserole, it was still too much. Dahmer was definitely a terrible cook.
The noodles were quickly finished, and Gus was sure that Shawn had been given even less food than him. He didn't dare point it out though, so he just watched and seethed as Dahmer traded the empty plate for a water bottle. He stopped next to Shawn and met Gus' eyes, "Well?"
Gus had a brief moment of panic before he understood what the bad guy wanted. "She's making a list of questions; she wants to know how Shawn's abilities are different from mine and how they work."
Dahmer's jaw ticked and Gus made a mental note to use Shawn's name more often in his answers.
Dahmer reached out to grab Shawn's chin and lifted the bottle to his mouth, pouring immediately without giving him time to take a breath. Shawn made it halfway through the bottle before he started pulling and fighting to get away, water ran out of the corners of his mouth as he stopped drinking long enough to take a breath. Dahmer immediately removed the bottle and slapped him across the face while snarling, "if you're going to waste it, then you won't get any more."
Shawn panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, flinching back when the sound of duct tape being pulled echoed through the room. Dahmer grinned as he re-gagged Shawn before turning to Gus and asking, "What else?"
Gus fought to keep the anger out of his voice as he answered, "She wants a shower, but doesn't think the water's clean enough."
A beaker cracked in panic and Dahmer started to run his hand through his hair before stopping himself. "I don't understand, the water's fine… The owners use it as a vacation house, they must shower here! Why wouldn't she- I need her to- I need…"
He began to pace as he muttered to himself; Gus and Shawn traded looks and stayed quiet, content to let the bad guy stew in his own mess.
"She doesn't understand how much I did for her… She has to see! I could show her- But then she might want to leave… she can't go back yet, they'll be looking- she needs to stay. She just needs to understand!" Dahmer started to stride to the stairs before stopping himself. "No… make it better here first, then there. Here, then there. She'll be able to- and then I can- Yes, yes, that will be better!"
Gus was starting to regret telling the truth as he watched the crazy man spiral and wave the scalpel around mindlessly. Dahmer stopped and turned back to them, his calm mask back in place. "It's disgusting in here; we need to fix that before she can come down."
He grabbed one of the plastic bags and approached Shawn, brandishing his scalpel and laying down his rules, "There are clean clothes in the bag. You will use the bathroom and change. Everything comes off, including shoes. The gag stays on. You have five minutes."
He dropped the bag and quickly cut through the duct tape that was keeping Shawn to the chair before cutting the zip ties around his wrists. Gus could feel Shawn's determination as he tried to jump from the chair to fight, but his legs collapsed under him sending him to the ground with a pained cry.
Dahmer tucked the scalpel into his pocket before pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. "Get up. Now."
Gus couldn't let Shawn get shot, he was hurt enough as it was. He risked speaking up, "Let me help him."
Dahmer's face darkened, "I thought you were learning…"
Gus talked fast as Shawn worked to get his good knee under his body, "Neither of us can walk well, much less run. It's going to take both of us longer than five minutes to do what you want. I told you, I can hear Rhianna planning out the questions she wants to ask. You know she doesn't like waiting. It'll go a lot faster if we can help each other."
Dahmer's thoughts warred with themselves, the urge to impress Rhianna fighting with the need to keep his captives separated and controlled. He kept a close eye on Shawn as he made his decision and approached Gus, lifting his gun.
He pressed it into Gus' temple and Shawn froze, his eyes wide in pain and fear. Dahmer leaned down so his face was inches from Gus' and he spoke in a low voice, "If I don't get you, no one does…" He twisted the gun in demonstration, "I will not hesitate to kill you if you try to fight or run. You're mine."
Gus' skin crawled at the possessive tone, and he gave a barely perceptible nod in understanding. He didn't move a muscle as Dahmer cut his restraints, his eyes locked with Shawn's as the cold metal stayed pressed to his head. Dahmer finally backed away and flicked his gun to the side, "You have ten minutes once you get to the bathroom. Go."
Gus didn't waste any time as he stood immediately and limped over to Shawn, his leg burning as he moved. He braced himself the best he could on his good leg and held out a hand to help his friend back up. Shawn took his hand and Gus pulled, nearly losing his balance before he forced himself to put weight on his hurt leg. Pain shot through his bullet wound, but Gus stayed quiet, reminding himself it was probably better than a broken leg that kept getting kicked around.
Once Shawn was back on his feet, Gus ducked under his arm to help take the weight off of the broken leg. Shawn sent a concerned ping with a visual of Gus' own hurt leg and Gus shook his head slightly, telling him not to worry about it. Shawn's eyebrows came together in stubbornness and Gus abused his position of human-crutch by taking a step forward, pulling slightly to prompt Shawn to follow him. Shawn sighed and listened, leaning on Gus as he hopped forward. He waited until Gus took another step and had all of his weight on his good leg before hopping forward again.
At the next step, Gus leaned down to grab the plastic bag that Dahmer had dropped to the floor. They continued to alternate slow, painful steps until they reached the bathroom under the stairs. Shawn leaned on the sink as Gus dropped the bag and turned around to close the door behind them.
As soon as Dahmer was safely out of sight, Shawn grabbed Gus by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Gus returned it, squeezing as hard as he dared and burying his face into his friend's shoulder. It was almost overwhelming, feeling Shawn's body solid against his. Proof that he was still there, that they were still together, that they were still alive.
Shawn's arms squeezed tighter and Gus returned the gesture, forcing back a sob as he felt every emotion that he'd been trying to keep at bay. Fear, anger, sorrow, guilt, hate, worry, love. He took a moment to quietly break down in his friend's arms and he could feel Shawn doing the same. Gus gave them a ten count before pulling back and whispering, "We don't have much time."
Shawn nodded and quickly brought his hands up to his face to peel off the duct tape. Gus looked nervously towards the door, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell Shawn he couldn't have ten minutes of sanity.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" Shawn whispered as soon as the gag was off. A knot uncoiled in Gus' stomach at the words and he relaxed muscles he hadn't even realized were tensed. Shawn being quiet for so long was just wrong.
"Welcome back, brother," Gus said with a small smile as he pulled Shawn's arm over his shoulder again and helped him hop the few steps to the toilet.
"Fuck, this sucks. I swear, I can feel myself going insane. I feel like Jack Torrance except I think I'd be ok with that if it meant I got to have an axe and take that fucker out," Shawn ranted quietly as he turned and started to undo his pants.
Gus looked away to give him as much privacy as possible, "I'm gonna want a turn with that axe when you're done…"
Shawn snorted and let go of Gus to sit down, "There's not going to be enough of him left for you to have a turn. Sorry."
"Well, then I get first dibs on the axe. I owe the fuckface a few more hits." Gus limped over to the bag and looked through it. There were two white t-shirts, two black gym shorts and two pairs of underwear. He shook his head; their prisoner uniform was going to make them look like they were in high school PE class.
"Wow, look at you with your potty mouth." Shawn teased as he flushed the toilet.
Gus smirked and took his necklace out of his pocket, leaving it on the sink to pick up later. "That's nothing, you should have heard me before the lab. The word 'cuntshit' was involved."
He wasn't expecting Shawn's thoughts to stutter at that and he turned in concern, remembering last minute to not actually look at him. Shawn spoke up, his voice emotionless, "Why did you fight?"
Gus frowned at his tone and answered truthfully, "Because he'd just given you the syringe and I wanted to make him pay."
"Wait, after?" Shawn asked in confusion. "But you broke his nose before… he was bleeding when he came back down."
"Oh, then," Gus realized. "He told me he was going to give you the needle, I tried fighting him to save you. Fat load of good it did…"
"Son of a bitch." There was a rustle of cloth and Gus realized Shawn had taken his shirt off. He grabbed one of the new shirts and handed it over before starting to unbutton his own shirt. Shawn spoke up again, his voice loaded with venom, "Cuntshit in there told me you saw your chance and tried to run. Even though you were cuffed and had jelly legs."
Gus could read between the lines and he had to push down his fury as he shrugged off his shirt. "He told you it was my fault. That you were getting the needle because of me."
"Yeah- holy crap, you look like shit."
Gus craned his neck and tried to look at his back, what little he could see was covered in a patchwork of bruises and cuts. "Yeah, well, I feel like shit. I'm guessing you don't look much better."
"Probably not," Shawn agreed. "Who knew car crashes hurt? You can turn around. I… damnit. I need help…"
Gus pulled on the clean shirt as he turned around, trying to be careful of the soaked bandage on his left arm and all of the smaller cuts on his right. Shawn had his boxers pulled back up and he gestured helplessly towards his leg. Gus realized quickly that he couldn't take care of the belts wrapped around the broken leg without putting pressure on it.
Gus nodded and grabbed the sink to lower himself to the floor, gritting his teeth as pain ran through his own hurt leg.
"Shit, I'm sorry. It's fine, it's fine. I can do it…" Shawn babbled in a whisper.
Gus sat on the ground and breathed through the wave of pain before shaking his head. "No, you can't. And I'm already down here."
He used his good leg and arms to scoot over until he was in front of the broken leg. He undid the belts as gently as he could and unwrapped them before untying Shawn's shoelaces and sliding the sock and shoe off of his left foot. He took a deep breath, knowing they didn't have the time they needed to go slow and easy. "OK, I'm gonna angle your leg out so I can get the shoe and slide the pants off at the same time."
Shawn covered his mouth with his hand and nodded in agreement. Gus didn't bother to count down before he did as he said and angled the leg out to take off the shoe. Shawn yelped into his hand before closing his eyes and focusing on staying quiet.
As soon as the shoe was off, Gus was mentally kicking himself for leaving it on back in the truck. The foot was nearly twice its regular size, and he suddenly remembered every warning he'd ever read about compartment syndrome and the importance of not constraining body parts that were swelling.
"I'm so sorry… I should have taken that off earlier. It had to have really been hurting your foot…"
Shawn shrugged and moved his hand away from his mouth so he could answer, "I can't really feel it."
"...Shit."
Gus worked carefully and slid the pants off as Shawn grunted softly. He had to suppress a gag at the bloody bandage underneath; if Dahmer really wanted them to be clean for Rhianna, then they were going to need another round of first aid.
A part of Gus wanted to stop being careful and intentionally get blood all over his new white shirt, just to spite Dahmer and his damn 'perfect' scenario. But a larger part of his mind knew that Shawn would be more likely to take the punishment than him and he wasn't willing to risk it.
"Almost done…" he whispered encouragingly as he reached for the belts, knowing it was going to hurt, but knowing it would hurt more if they didn't try to keep the leg immobile. He waited for Shawn's nod of consent before he tightly wrapped the belts back around the bandage. Knowing it needed to be done didn't make the muffled sounds of pain any easier to hear.
Gus kept his eyes on the leg as he asked, "You need help with the underwear, or you got it?"
"Nuh-uh" Shawn panted out fiercely, "I'll do a lot of stuff, but I'm keeping my boxers."
Gus hesitated, torn between wanting to give Shawn his choice and wanting him to stay safe. Which meant doing what Dahmer wanted. "Dude, I'm sorry, but they're filthy and he's gonna be able to tell if you keep them."
"Ugh… Worst. Kidnapper. Ever. He had to pick tighty whities…" Shawn reached for his boxers and Gus averted his eyes again. "For the record, it's cold in here. Don't judge."
Gus frowned, "Dude, if anything it's warm in here…"
"Really? Well that can't be a good sign." Shawn tapped his shoulder and Gus kept his eyes focused on Shawn's feet as he helped him slide the boxers over the belts and off his legs. He slid the clean underwear on with the shorts and Shawn pulled them up at the same time, grunting quietly in pain.
They sat in silence for a few seconds as Shawn caught his breath before he dropped his hand and smiled slightly, the tired look still tinged with mischief, "You know, any other time, there would be so many jokes about you being down there..."
Gus snorted and started to scoot away, "Just give it a second, they'll come to you."
Shawn giggled quietly, "I'd like to think I'd last longer than a second."
"You only think? That's sad." Gus grabbed the sink and pulled himself back up to standing with a pained groan.
"Suck it." Shawn told him cheerfully as he held out a hand.
"I already stood up, you missed your chance." Gus grabbed his hand and used the sink to keep him steady as he pulled Shawn up. "I don't suppose you know how much more time we have?"
"A minute and a half, I think?" Shawn said uncertainly as he leaned against the wall and made room for Gus to get to the toilet.
Gus cursed as he realized he'd been so worried about Shawn's leg wrappings, he'd forgotten about his own. He started to pick at the tape wrapped around his leg as their seconds counted down. He unwrapped the bandages and carefully pulled down his pants and underwear, forcing his shaking hands to keep moving even when the pain in his leg spiked at the movement. He slipped out of his shoes and socks easily enough before sliding the dirty clothes off.
He figured he could probably get away with keeping his underwear, but if Shawn had to give his up, then it only seemed fair for Gus to lose his too. He knew the logic was flawed, but he didn't really care.
He took a second to relax and ride out the pain before he used the toilet.
"You got a bladder of steel, you know that?" Shawn tried to tease as he washed his hands, carefully looking away from Gus. His wrists were bare, the shredded bandages discarded on the floor.
"Not really, I 'earned' a bathroom break at the lab." Gus informed him wryly, feeling guilty for yet another 'luxury' that Shawn hadn't been given.
Gus shook his head at the thought, things like being able to talk and being able to go to the bathroom shouldn't be things to feel guilt over. He was reminded, again, of just how fucked up their situation was.
Once he was done, he pulled the clean clothes on and picked the bloody bandage back up in shaking hands. He swallowed hard as he looked away; he was pretty sure puking up the noodles that he'd just eaten wouldn't go over well with the bad guy.
"I got it." Shawn took the bandage out of his hand, leaning against the wall next to the toilet so he could bend down and wrap it around Gus' leg. "Shit, this doesn't look good…"
Gus shrugged and repeated his mantra, "Better than a broken leg."
Shawn raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him before asking, "Ready?"
Gus nodded and swallowed down a yelp as Shawn pulled the bandage tight before wrapping the tape around it again. Shawn looked at him with an apology in his eyes as he held out a hand to pull him to his feet. Gus thought about declining, he could stand up on his own, but he didn't have to be a psychic to see that Shawn needed to be able to help.
He took the hand and stood up before limping quickly to the sink. It seemed almost ridiculous, doing something as mundane as washing his hands after going to the bathroom given their situation, but it was normal. Right now, normal was the most valuable currency he had.
Shawn leaned on the wall and used it to limp up next to him while whispering a quote with a thick British accent, "Right. I'll do you for that."
Gus smirked as the water rushed over his hands and he embraced another sliver of normal as he replied back with an accent of his own, "You'll what?"
A loud bang on the door made them both jump. Dahmer called out, "You're three minutes over, get out in the next minute or things get messy."
Shawn eyed up the door as he continued the exchange quietly, "Come here!"
Gus shut off the sink and shook his head at his friend's choice of quotes, "What are you going to do, bleed on me?"
"I am invincible."
"You're a loony." Gus grabbed his necklace and put it back in his pocket.
"The Black Knight always triumphs." Shawn finished with a small grin.
Gus couldn't help but answer with a tight grin of his own as he grabbed Shawn into another quick hug, noticing how warm his friend was. "I'm going to make a play for antibiotics, you good with that?"
He needed Shawn to know it was his choice. That he had a choice. Shawn nodded, turning uncharacteristically serious again. "Yeah, you need them too."
Gus sighed and pulled back so he could look Shawn in the eyes, "I love you, you know that, right?"
Shawn moved his hand to grip the back of Gus' neck, "I love you too, man."
Shawn pulled him in, so their foreheads were touching, and they stayed that way for a few seconds before Gus pulled away. He swallowed down his guilt as he picked up the duct tape and held it out.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Shawn took it and closed his eyes in repulsion as he pressed it back over his mouth, gagging himself. Gus gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and Shawn nodded as he wrapped his arm back around Gus.
They limped back out of the bathroom together.
Juliet slammed her desk phone back into its cradle with a curse. Yet another house that had turned up empty. Their list had been cut down, but there were still too many places to search. She glanced out of the window and had to squint against the setting sun. They were taking too long.
Lassiter sighed and stood up from his desk, "Alright, that's it. O'Hara, follow me."
He walked off towards the filing room and Juliet seriously thought about not following, she had a good idea what he wanted to say. Lassiter turned once he reached the door and crossed his arms, waiting for her to catch up. She narrowed her eyes and stood up straight before marching to the filing room; she wasn't going to go down without a fight.
"You need to go home," Lassiter told her frankly after he closed the door.
"No," Juliet said as she crossed her arms stubbornly.
"You've been up for at least forty-eight hours, you need sleep if you're going to be able to help Shawn and Gus," he continued, just as stubbornly.
"You've been awake just as long as I have," she reminded him, "and I don't see you leaving."
"I'll rest when you come back," Lassiter replied quickly.
"Bullshit." Juliet poked her finger into his chest, "If you actually believe that, then you go home first and I'll hold down the fort."
"I can't." Lassiter growled.
She snapped back, "And why do you think I can?!"
"Because you didn't-" He bit off the words he was going say, his hands clenching at his sides like he wanted to grab his gun.
Juliet looked her partner over carefully, "'Because I didn't' what?"
Lassiter spoke to the air over her shoulder, "Because you didn't promise Gus that it wouldn't happen again."
Juliet sighed, her anger melting away at his words. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Carlton… I promised Shawn the same thing."
Lassiter deflated and returned the hug. After a few seconds he awkwardly patted her shoulders and offered a compromise, "Rock paper scissors, best out of three. Loser takes the break room couch for a couple of hours."
Juliet huffed a small laugh into his chest before pulling away and getting her hands ready, "I'll warn you, my brother says I'm unbeatable."
Lassiter gave her a small smirk as he readied himself, "Bring it."