Blood ran down Gus' arm, pooling at the handcuff and dripping to the floor as fire seemed to dance up and down his arm. He wondered what was taking Dahmer so long; a rag and duct tape couldn't be that hard to put together, after all. He hoped the supply run hadn't included more rubbing alcohol; he wasn't sure if he could take much more pain without completely snapping.

He huffed a faint scoff as he realized that was a legitimate fear for him now. He saw movement in the corner of his eye as Shawn looked up from his kneeling position. Gus just shook his head, not wanting to risk speaking when Dahmer could show up at any second.

Shawn sighed and lowered his head again, his shoulders stooping in exhaustion and defeat. Gus could feel guilt churning in his stomach and he desperately hoped it wouldn't bring up more bile. He couldn't even tell if it was all his guilt or if Shawn's emotions were being mixed in. He knew that everything they'd just been through landed on the 'bullshit' side of what mattered, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

Something caught in his chest as he breathed and he tried to stifle the coughs that followed, not wanting to risk the loud noise angering Dahmer. His whole body shook as he regained his breath, his throat and chest feeling like raw, open wounds while his actual open wound felt like a ring of searing nerves surrounding a deeper pain of wrongness.

Dahmer finally returned, holding a bandage and, much to Gus' relief, no alcohol bottle. Dahmer muttered to himself as he walked over, "You fix one thing and then another mess pops up…"

Gus forced himself to stay still and not flinch as his arm was grabbed; he couldn't jeopardize the bandage that Shawn had earned for him. Dahmer grumbled again before stalking over to pick up the lab coat from the floor. He came back and used the coat to wipe off the blood from Gus' arm as he complained, "It was so much easier when no one had to stay alive…"

Gus pressed his back into the pole and clenched his teeth as the cloth ran over the edges of his wound with hot flaring pain trailing behind it. Dahmer continued to grumble about the annoyances of keeping captives alive for more than a few hours as he put the bandage over the arm and pressed the tape down onto the newly dried skin.

He straightened up and his thoughts glowed pink. "Ah well, it's worth it." He absently shoved Gus' head down as he walked past. "Stay."

Gus stayed still until Dahmer was out of the room again. He sighed, letting his head hang lower as he relaxed his shoulder muscles slightly. The burning in his arm slowly faded to a more manageable background pain.

That had gone better than he'd expected.

He wondered briefly what the new 'mess' was; Jack's bright red thoughts and Rhianna's void pulling in annoyance gave him a clue. He hoped the other man could keep himself out of trouble.

Though, if he didn't, then Dahmer wouldn't be focusing on Shawn and Gus for a while. That would be nice.

Gus sighed again and shoved those thoughts away. On the off chance they actually survived this, he wanted to be able to look at himself in the mirror afterwards.

Speaking of living with himself, he knew he had a job to do. He swallowed, trying to coax some moisture in his mouth that didn't taste like bile. He had to fight back a whine as even that small movement felt like a knife stabbing the inside of his throat. He was tired of hurting, he was tired of hearing the thoughts of the man hurting them, and he was exhausted by the constant dread of knowing it could get worse at any moment.

But he couldn't freak out.

It was Shawn's turn to freak out, which meant it was Gus' turn to be ok. Even if he had to fake it.

Gus looked over and spoke, his voice unable to go louder than a rough whisper, "Wasn't your fault."

Shawn kept his head bowed as he snorted in disbelief.

Gus wasn't deterred. He continued, "And thank you."

Shawn did look up at that, meeting Gus' eyes with a pained look.

Gus spoke with as much sincerity as he could with his broken voice. "Seriously, Shawn, thank you. I know what that- You did everything you could. Don't listen to his bullshit."

An animated hero in red, "I can't lose you again! I can't. Not again. I'm not… strong enough."

Gus swallowed down another rush of guilt. "You didn't lose me, I'm still here. What's important?"

Shawn narrowed his eyes: Gus sleeping peacefully on Henry's shoulder in the truck. A safety vest.

Gus shook his head, feeling the collar chafe at his raw neck. "Nope, that's not it. Try again."

Shawn's face grew dark: Dahmer staring vacantly with a bullet hole between his eyes.

Gus stubbornly shook his head again. "Still not it."

Shawn sighed: The old man, the friends with bleeding hands, the spies fighting back-to-back.

"There you go," Gus said, ignoring how much it hurt to keep talking. Shawn had still helped when he was hurt, after all. Gus reminded them both, "It's only going to be a little longer. We've gotten this far. Pretty soon Lassie's going to come through the door complaining about squirrels, and Henry will be talking about another fishing trip, and Jules will be rolling her eyes at both of them."

Shawn huffed a microscopic laugh before sending a broadcast with longing: Juliet sitting on his bed, hugging him fiercely, "It was just a dream, I've got you, you're ok."

"I know. You're going to see her again," Gus said, trying to make it sound believable.

Shawn snorted and looked back down as he shook his head.

Gus shrugged his shoulders and lied, "It's fine. I'll hope for both of us."

Shawn let out another breath before broadcasting the feeling of their foreheads pressing together.

Gus didn't have to fake his small smile as he replied, "I love you too."

Shawn looked up at him and crinkled the edges of his eyes: Harrison Ford as he's about to be frozen, "I know."

Gus sighed, "Man, I don't have the hair to be Leia."

Shawn let out a surprised snicker before looking Gus over and broadcasting him wearing a metal bikini over a muscle shirt.

"Dude…"

Shawn crinkled his eyes again and the expression didn't look quite as forced: Lassiter in a muscle shirt and metal bikini.

Gus huffed a small laugh. "You forgot his gun."

Lassiter wearing a metal bikini and turning around to show the gun taped under his shirt a la Die Hard.

"That works. What about Jules? I bet she'd-"

The beakers in the other room cracked loudly with glee and Gus flinched before looking over, certain that he was going to see Dahmer coming through the door. After a minute of no activity, Gus relaxed slightly. Shawn made a quiet questioning noise and he answered, "I don't know, just something-"

Dahmer's thoughts interrupted him again as they flared bright pink, matching the slight pink tinge of the electrodes. Gus made a face of disgust. "I think they just kissed…"

Shawn matched his disgust: A brain with bleach being poured over it.

"No kidding." Gus shook his head roughly, as though he could force the mental sensations out of his mind. The collar rubbed against a raw spot on his neck and his head throbbed at the quick movement and he didn't care. It was the principle of the matter.

Shawn hesitated before asking: A brain, an open book.

Gus sighed and wondered whether it was better to know what was coming or not. But Shawn had asked, and he wasn't going to say no to him if he could help it. He closed his eyes and focused on the beakers: Three syringes, smelling salts, an AED, a list of improvements in Rhianna's handwriting, excitement.

Gus' eyes snapped open and he had to remember how to breathe. "Oh my god."

Shawn pinged a worried question.

"It's the formula," Gus answered, his voice shaking. "They're going to use it again."

Shawn looked at the door in concern: Jack taped to the chair. Mark Hamill on a space antenna, "I'll never join you!"

Gus nodded, not trusting himself to speak as his mind was filled with thoughts of fire and screaming. This was his fault. Someone else was going to feel the fire because of him. But this time it wouldn't be just the pain, this time it would be everything. Jack was going to die.

All because Gus had been too scared to do the right thing.

Shawn tried to reassure him: A clock, flashing police lights.

Gus shook his head, knowing the truth as he spoke it. "He was working on speeding it up, remember? I don't think we have hours."

The red taste of pancakes suddenly grayed out in fear and Gus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight off the panic. He couldn't listen to someone else go through what he'd gone through. He couldn't listen to someone else's screams. He couldn't listen to the thoughts, feel the fire, feel the change. Feel Jack die. He couldn't let it happen.

He couldn't let it happen.

A wave of peace rushed over Gus. He knew what they needed to do. He had been too scared when Jack had first showed up; he wasn't going to make that mistake again. He looked over at Shawn and spoke with the calmness of a prisoner walking himself to the gallows. "We can't wait for the cops."

Shawn straightened slightly at the obvious change in Gus' demeanor: The wire around a broken glass bottle, the scalpel.

Gus clenched his hands and the pain running up both arms only further cemented his conviction. "We aren't Rhianna."

Shawn studied him for a second before nodding with a ping of acceptance. He sunk lower onto his knees with a wince as he strained his arms around the post. Gus heard glass scraping on the ground and he listened to the beakers, making sure they weren't coming any closer. Shawn straightened up while shifting his weight on his knees, so he wasn't putting extra pressure on his bad leg.

Gus kept his eyes on the door as he asked, "Do you know what to do?"

Shawn broadcasted an image of the wire bent properly and inserted in the lock.

Gus nodded grimly and kept watch. Jack's writing suddenly sped up and grew more erratic, Rhianna's electrodes pulled in curiosity, and Dahmer's beakers cracked with excitement. Gus let out a breath, knowing that the stimulant had just been injected. One needle down, two more to go.

Shawn let out a noise of frustration as his arms twisted awkwardly. Gus' hands were nearly numb from the tight cuffs, and he knew that even he would have trouble picking the lock behind his back in these conditions. He hoped he hadn't asked Shawn to do the impossible.

Fast, muffled yells came from the other room and Gus recognized the sounds of someone gagged with duct tape. He tried to listen out with his psychic sense, hoping to feel pop rocks or a cannon reverb. His heart suck as he felt nothing; they were still alone, and they were running out of time.

Jack's thoughts sped up even more with a frantic edge and the muffled yells grew louder. Beakers cracked in glee and Gus knew the hallucinogenic had been given. He hoped they still had time while Jack's brain was 'conditioned', as the scientists had called it. It wouldn't be pleasant, but Jack would probably live if they managed to stop the third needle.

The taste of pancakes flared in fear and the writing pen bent and warped, making Gus woozy just feeling it. He focused on his shield and the pain in his arm to keep his head clear. He didn't remember much from when he'd been drugged, but he did know that it had lasted a while before he'd fallen unconscious. Even with the smelling salts, he hoped the scientists would still have to wait out that first stage. It gave them a little bit more time.

He had a desperate plan to earn them another few minutes if needed, but it was basically a death sentence for at least one of them if Shawn wasn't free by then. Gus hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Shawn continued to work with small grunts of frustration and Gus kept guard, focusing only on keeping track of the bad guys' thoughts. After several minutes, the beakers started to move, and Gus realized they were heading towards the door to the garage. He hissed out, "Incoming!"

Shawn immediately dropped his shoulders and bowed his head, though Gus could tell from his thoughts that he was still trying to work on the lock. Gus followed his example and looked down at the ground, his heart racing as Dahmer entered the room.

Dahmer approached them, giggling slightly when he saw they were still in the same positions he'd left them in. He grabbed Gus' chin and forced his head up and to the side, inspecting the cut on his face. He sighed, "Well, at least it stopped bleeding. That'll have to be good enough, we don't have time for stitches yet…"

Gus fought against the relief he was feeling as he tried to decide if it made sense to convince Dahmer otherwise. He knew stitches couldn't be as bad as his skin being cut off, and it would buy Jack more time. But he also knew the knife would come back out if he spoke out of turn. And Shawn still wasn't free.

The hand on his chin tightened and he stayed still as Dahmer ran a wet wipe along his cheek and chin, cleaning off the worst of the dried blood. Gus was surprised at how gentle the bad guy was being and he wondered if it was a reward for them being good.

He knew there was something wrong with the thought, but he didn't care enough to figure out what.

Dahmer finished cleaning him up and walked behind him, grabbing the leash as he spoke. "Soon, you won't be the only acquired psychic around. We're going to need a new name for you…" The leash pulled back, pinning Gus to the post as Dahmer laid down his rules. "You're going to help us. You will tell us everything you feel. I want to know the exact moment he changes." The collar tightened further as Dahmer's voice lowered to a threatening growl, "Are you going to do as you're told?"

Gus nodded immediately, his mind blanking as he focused only on breathing. Dahmer's hand traveled over his bandage and down to his cuffs before one of Gus' hands was released. And Shawn's thoughts flared in victory.

Gus' eyes snapped over to his friend, hope rising, but Shawn kept his head down and sent a fast broadcast: A pirate with a handful of coins, "You need to wait until the opportune moment."

Gus hoped Shawn knew what he was doing as his wrist was re-cuffed and Dahmer let the collar relax before walking around to lead him towards the other room. They only took a couple of steps when Shawn sent a new command: Stop sign. A truck with reverse lights. Stop light.

Gus understood and was grateful that Dahmer had been confident enough to be holding the leash near the end of the strap instead of next to the buckle. It gave him enough slack to be able to scramble in front of the bad guy and ram his shoulders back, stopping Dahmer and pushing him towards Shawn.

Gus cut off Dahmer's surprised grunt by throwing his head back into his face, feeling something give way under the hit as Dahmer yelled in pain. Gus remembered a story he'd read about someone who had died from their nose cartilage piercing their brain. Maybe the third time would be the charm.

Gus continued to push against Dahmer as he pulled his head forward for another headbutt, but the bad guy had recovered from his surprise. Dahmer braced himself, bringing them both to a stop as he grabbed the belt buckle and pulled back and down.

Gus had a split second to decide which he needed more, to breathe or to keep his feet under him, when Dahmer took the choice away from him by grabbing his skinned arm and squeezing hard. The collar was too tight to allow him to make any sound as pain exploded under Dahmer's hand. Gus' legs buckled and his knees hit the floor, his bullet wound flaring as his arm seared. He struggled to breathe as the pain overwhelmed him and he fought to stay conscious.

"Why won't you just stay- argg!" Dahmer yelled in pain and the real sound of breaking glass was almost lost under the beakers shattering in rage. He let go of the collar to spin around, and Gus gasped for breath as he turned on his knees, just in time to see Shawn punch Dahmer in the face.

Dahmer quickly retaliated and drove a fist into Shawn's gut, seemingly barely slowed by the blood dripping from his face and the back of his neck. Shawn doubled over, grunting behind his gag, and Dahmer grabbed his hair to pull him forward as he kicked the broken leg, bringing Shawn to the ground with a muffled scream.

Dahmer reached back under his jacket and Gus scrambled forward, ignoring how his chest throbbed and his skin prickled as he threw himself at the back of Dahmer's knees. Dahmer lost his balance and twisted as he fell over Gus, hitting the ground as his gun skittered away from his hand.

Gus tried to climb back to his feet as he mentally celebrated the fact that Gus-is-a-table had finally worked. Dahmer moved faster, springing up and grabbing the collar to yank Gus upright, pulling him back into his chest while spinning them both around. Gus scrambled to keep his feet under his body before freezing as he felt a sharp blade press into his throat, just under his jaw. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take solace in the fact that he was going to die knowing he'd done everything he could. He only wished he hadn't brought Shawn down with him.

"SBPD, drop your weapon!"

Gus' eyes snapped open and he was almost overwhelmed by the number of people streaming into the garage. The throbbing in his chest clarified into the chest reverb from a cannon and pop rocks prickled across his skin as he saw Lassiter and Juliet slow to a stop, their guns aiming steadily at Dahmer. Henry stopped with them, his own weapon out and ready, as even more officers spread out behind them.

Gus would have collapsed from relief if it wasn't for the pressure around his throat keeping him standing. Help was finally here.

"Don't come any closer or he dies!" Dahmer snarled at the cops as he backed up slowly, keeping a firm grip on the collar and forcing Gus to move with him.

Lassiter's gaze was hard as he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "There's nowhere left to run, Dahmer. Let him go."

"You think I'll just give him to you?!" Dahmer asked with a hysterical giggle. His voice immediately darkened as he ranted, "My Magnum Opus, my Starry Night, the culmination of all of my research… You don't deserve to have him, he's mine!"

Dahmer stopped moving and pulled Gus even closer, their bodies pressing together as he spoke in Gus' ear. "And you know it. Tell them."

Gus clenched his jaw closed, even as he wheezed for breath. Dahmer didn't have a gun this time, he couldn't make Gus say anything.

The scalpel dug in deeper and Gus could feel blood trickling down his neck as Dahmer snapped at him, "I gave you an order!"

Gus flinched at the tone and more blood dripped from the cut. He could feel the words forming in his mouth as part of his mind babbled frantically that he had to do as he was told. He forced himself to stay quiet; if he was going to die, then he was going to make sure he died as himself, not as 'the acquired'.

"If you kill him, you will die," Lassiter promised as the thoughts filling the garage soured in unease at the clearly unhinged madman.

"And what if I don't kill him?" Dahmer challenged as he started to move the knife, slowly extending the shallow cut on Gus' throat sideways. Gus could clearly visualize the large grin as Dahmer whispered in his ear again, "look at them, just standing there, watching you bleed. Do you think we should show them your other tricks?"

Shawn's broadcast came in like a soothing wave: Keanu in a bus, "We've got a hard right turn coming up."

Gus felt the stinging pain traveling closer to the side of his neck, closer to not being immediately fatal if he pulled away. He waited and trusted Shawn to tell him when to move.

Shawn started a countdown: 3

Dahmer snarled at Lassiter again, "The power to change the world!"

2

"And you want to waste it."

1

"And he's not even a good-"

Shawn made a sharp noise and Gus twisted away, feeling the knife cut the side of his neck as the collar pulled tighter around his throat. There was a loud bang and Dahmer howled in pain as the scalpel fell to the ground.

Dahmer pulled Gus back, keeping himself shielded from the cops. But Gus wasn't watching the cops. He was watching Shawn. Shawn, who was laying sideways on the ground, still gagged and aiming Dahmer's smoking gun. Shawn, who's eyes sharpened before he pulled the trigger again.

Dahmer dropped down with another pained yell and Gus was finally able to scramble away, gasping for breath. He turned quickly, moving his leash and arms out of grabbing reach as he stared down at Dahmer, taking in the bloody ruins of his knee and wrist. Dahmer looked over at Shawn as he snarled through blood-stained teeth, "I'm going to make you wish you were never-"

He stopped and Gus followed his gaze to see that Shawn hadn't moved, his eyes hard and the gun still steady in his hands as he continued to aim at Dahmer.

There was a moment of silence and Shawn's finger tightened slightly on the trigger. Voices called out, filling the garage with meaningless sound, and Gus could hear Shawn's name several times. He wished his hands weren't still restrained behind his back so he could wave to tell them all to be quiet.

They didn't understand.

"Shawn," he said, the rough whisper barely audible under everyone else's voices.

Shawn pinged his acknowledgement but didn't move.

Gus took it as an invitation and limped over, lowering himself to his knees by Shawn's side and staying out of the line of fire. He wasn't taking away Shawn's choice.

The garage grew quiet, and Gus didn't care who else was there as his world shrunk down to only the two of them.

Shawn sent a list of his reasons: The needle, screams in the basement, screams in the garage, a belt, a gag, a foot kicking his broken leg, blood dripping to the floor, a scalpel, a dog, his friend forced to his knees, a hand running through his hair, duct tape, handcuffs, the feeling of terror, the feeling of helplessness.

"I know," Gus agreed. Dahmer needed to die. But Gus didn't know what would happen if Shawn was the one to pull the trigger. "Please, don't. He's just bullshit, don't let him take you away from me."

Shawn's thoughts clicked darkly and Gus waited, willing to back him up no matter what he chose. The silence in the garage was broken by a manic giggle, a high staccato sound that started quiet and grew until it seemed to resonate through Gus' skull. Shawn narrowed his eyes before shifting his hand slightly, ejecting the magazine from the gun before pulling back the slide to clear the bullet from the chamber. The giggles morphed into a full-blown laugh as Shawn pulled the duct tape from his mouth and snarled out, "Fuck you."

Dahmer called out through his laughter, "I knew it! I knew you were mine! You can pretend to be theirs, but we both know the truth!"

Gus knew he should look over and proudly declare that he was his own and no one else's; prove to him and the rest of the world that he hadn't been broken. But he remembered muffled words in a parking lot, and he could still feel the ground under his knees and the collar tight around his throat.

He kept his eyes firmly locked on Shawn and said the only thing he could think of as Lassiter moved in his peripheral vision. "Friday night, japadogs."

Shawn's lips twitched as he finally looked away from Dahmer. "It's a date."

Lassiter's voice cut through the moment. "Jeffery Dahmer, you are under arrest-"

"No!" Dahmer suddenly snarled. Shawn snapped his head over as he tried to push himself up, and Gus tensed as he prepared for another fight.

He looked over just in time to see Dahmer grab a chunk of rock off of the floor and swing it at Lassiter's head. Lassiter blocked the hit and tried to grab his arm, but Dahmer twisted away from his grip and raised the rock again.

*BANG*

Blood splattered on the floor as Dahmer fell back, a neat hole appearing on one side of his head and a mess of bone and brains spreading out from the other. Gus gaped at the mess, not understanding what he was seeing. He watched and waited for the inevitable moment from every horror movie when the monster proved he couldn't be killed by a mere bullet. It took him a long few seconds to realize his mind was quieter. The sound of cracking beakers was gone, and it wasn't coming back.

He stared at the body of the madman who'd been making their lives a living hell and tried to comprehend that it was over. They were safe. Vacant blue eyes stared back at him and he couldn't feel anything, no relief, no joy, no disgust. There was only a haze of numbness and a single thought that shined bright like a beacon. They were still alive, they were still together, and they still had each other's backs. He clung to it like a lifeline as the rest of the world stopped making sense.

Shawn stared at the body too before looking away to trace the bullet's trajectory with his eyes. His thoughts glowed pink, and Gus was finally able to tear his gaze from the corpse to look over and see Juliet slowly lowering her gun, her face and thoughts completely calm as she looked at the man she'd killed.

Gus saw Henry start to make his way over to them as Lassiter checked the corpse and Juliet holstered her gun. There was too much movement to track, too many people, too many thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to keep himself from being overwhelmed. A hand rested on his upper arm and the sound of ponging balls helped shore up his mental shield. He breathed out a small sigh of relief before realizing there was one set of thoughts he wasn't feeling.

"Jack!" Gus gasped out as he opened his eyes and tried to climb to his feet. The whole point of fighting had been to save the other man, but if Rhianna had decided to continue the procedure, or Jack's heart hadn't been able to handle the concoction of drugs, or…

Lassiter held out a hand to stop his movement as he called out, "Sheppard! All clear, report!"

A younger officer with spiky black hair jogged through the door. He looked like he was fighting the urge to snap a salute as he reported, "All clear in here, too. Brown was unresponsive with weak vitals; we've already loaded him onto a bus. Millers is being held in a squad car until we can take her statement. Another bus is on its way, ETA five minutes."

"Rhianna, she's a bad guy. You need to cuff her," Shawn said as Henry knelt down beside him. "She's the one who kidnapped Jack."

Lassiter looked at him in surprise before nodding at Sheppard and ordering, "Do it."

Sheppard did salute then before turning and jogging back into the other room, taking several of the officers with him. Lassiter smirked slightly at the gesture before his face hardened as he surveyed the scene.

Gus felt the pull of a fishing line against his fingers and he turned to watch Henry lightly lay a hand on Shawn's arm. Henry's thoughts flared red as he took in their condition, but his voice stayed gentle as he said, "Let's sit you up, alright?"

Shawn gave Gus' arm a slight squeeze before letting go and bracing his hand on the floor as he nodded. He stayed quiet as Henry helped pull him up into a sitting position, rotating his body so his legs didn't have to move.

Gus was preparing to shuffle on his knees back over to Shawn's side when he saw someone approaching out of the corner of his eye. He shied away before realizing it was just Juliet, and that she was already squatting down a few feet away to make herself smaller. A part of his mind told him that this was meant to keep him calm and came from a place of caring. Another part pointed out it was exactly how someone would treat a scared animal.

Juliet held up her hand to show him the handcuff keys she was holding. "Hey Gus, let's get those cuffs off and we can get you sitting down too, alright? That can't feel very good on your leg."

Gus looked down and saw that the bandage over his bullet wound was covered by his shorts, he wondered how she knew about it as he nodded his head absently. He had to fight against a flinch as hands that weren't Shawn's touched his wrists and hands. The cuffs opened and he pulled his arms forward, flexing his fingers and taking in the bands of oozing red around both wrists. He found himself grateful for the bandages on his arms that hid the worst of his injuries, even if the newer one was already blood-soaked. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see what was underneath yet.

As if seeing it made it more real, the white-hot pain burned brighter in his arm, and he pulled it to his chest protectively where no one could easily grab it.

He realized that Juliet was kneeling next to him again, waiting patiently as he took in his new freedom. He tried to force his sluggish brain back into gear; he had to stay aware, he needed to be able to watch Shawn's back. Juliet smiled softly as their eyes met and she nodded towards his collar, asking, "Do you want me to-"

Gus started to move before she was even done speaking, leaning away and scrambling back. Bad things happened when the collar was touched. He was already on his knees, but he could still feel it tightening, reminding him where he belonged. Phantom fingers wrapped around the buckle, and for a split second, Gus knew without a doubt that Dahmer wasn't dead, and he was never going to be free from him. The hand pulled back and he wheezed for breath.

"Hey, Gus, easy. It's ok. It's safe, just like the trunk, alright? No one's gonna touch it."

Shawn was talking. Dahmer didn't let Shawn talk. If he was talking, then Dahmer wasn't there. And that meant Dahmer wasn't strangling him. And that meant… Gus took a deep breath as his surroundings filtered back in, replacing his haze of panic. He mentally cursed at himself. He'd promised to not freak out.

He looked over to say he was back, and saw that Shawn was twisting his body to reach out to him. Gus shook his head, hoping Shawn would turn back around and stop putting stress on his cuts. Shawn grimaced but dropped his hand before telling Juliet, "It's going to have to be cut off if we can. It… it's too tight to unbuckle."

Juliet's bubbles tinged with red as she nodded calmly. "I'm sure the paramedics will have something that will work."

"I'm going to go wait for them," Lassiter said, his impassive detective face firmly in place, "I'll let them know what to expect."

Gus wasn't sure how to process the conversation as he eyed up the short distance between him and Shawn. He needed the collar off -god, he needed it off- but the idea of it not being around his throat anymore was something he couldn't fully comprehend. It was almost as strange as the idea of Dahmer being able to die.

He wondered when he had stopped trying to lie to himself about what the belt actually was.

He made a decision and kept his arm tucked to his chest as he leaned forward to awkwardly three-legged crawl the few steps back to Shawn's side.

"Gus, wait…" Juliet called softly.

Part of Gus wanted to stop immediately at the quiet command, but the part that needed to be next to Shawn was louder. He ignored the pains flaring in his body as he rotated around, forcing his stiff knees to straighten in front of him as he sat down at his friend's side. He let out a breath as he moved his still-burning arm safely between them.

Shawn's hand shifted to cover his and something unclenched in Gus' stomach. They were still together. They could handle whatever came next as long as they were together.

Henry finished a short, hushed conversation with Shawn and reached out to gently pull Shawn's head forward to kiss him on the forehead. He stood up and nodded to Gus before walking back to the door, pretending to not notice Shawn's stunned look.

Juliet sat down in his place, and Gus was relieved to feel that Shawn's thoughts were stuttering too as all of the fast changes became overwhelming. Shawn looked at him and Gus nodded back to let him know he wasn't alone.

Shawn gave him a ghost of a smirk and spoke quietly. "Hey Gus, guess what?"

"What?"

"We're not dead," Shawn answered with a terrible British accent.

Gus huffed a slight laugh. "Holy shit, we're not dead."

Saying the words out loud seemed to make it more real. They'd survived, it was over, the bad guy was dead and couldn't hurt them anymore… The haze of numbness in his mind seemed to clear slightly as relief shined through. Gus was glad he was already sitting as his whole body seemed to weaken at the realization.

They were safe.

Gus saw Juliet hold up the handcuff keys again, and Shawn looked down, seeming surprised to see the handcuff still hanging off of one of his wrists. He held his hand out and she quickly unlocked the cuff, letting it fall to the ground as her fingers lightly trailed down his palm. Shawn hesitated before reaching around her shoulders to pull her into a side hug as he buried his nose in her hair. Gus could barely make out his whispered, "I missed you."

Juliet's bubbles popped in distress as she realized she couldn't hug him back, but it didn't show on her face as she looked up and gave Shawn a kiss before whispering back, "I missed you too."

Gus looked away to give them as much privacy as he could while staying at Shawn's side. Henry caught his eye from across the room and jerked his head in a question.

Gus sighed and shrugged. He had no idea if he was ok or not. It was over, he knew it was over. But everything was still overwhelming, he was still painfully aware of exactly where Dahmer was in the room, and a small part of him was panicking over the fact that this could just be another vivid psychic dream and he was going to wake up to the scalpel.

Henry's eyebrows tightened in worry, but he nodded his head in understanding.

Gus felt more people approaching and tried to brace himself for whatever was going to happen next

Juliet sat next to Shawn and fought to keep all of her emotions pushed away. She knew if she let herself feel any of it then she'd break down and feel all of it. And that wasn't her place. Not here, not now.

She hoped Shawn couldn't sense the storm brewing under her calm surface. She tried to channel the type of friend Lassiter had been when she was on the clock tower; a grounding rock when everything else had seemed to fall away.

Juliet looked at the boys and reassured herself; they were still alive, they were safe now.

But she also saw all of the blood, all of the bruises, all of the bandages. She remembered how the bad guy had talked to them and she saw how they both flinched whenever someone moved around them. She couldn't think about the belt around Gus' throat and his panic attack without wanting to cry, and she couldn't look at Shawn's back without wanting to empty the rest of her magazine into the cooling corpse across the room.

And she was sure they still didn't know the half of it.

She saw Gus shift slightly with a silent wince and she frowned as she remembered that Shawn hadn't made a single noise either when he'd moved, not even when his splinted leg had shifted down to the ground. She felt a chill when she realized they both had been completely silent whenever something should have hurt. She recognized a conditioned response when she saw it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what had happened for them to form that sort of response in only a day and a half.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Shawn turning to look at her with a dismayed look on his face. "Oh no, Jules. I just remembered… Something happened and I- I know I need to tell you. I am so so so sorry…"

Juliet frowned as she tried to console him, "Hey, it's ok. Whatever happened, it doesn't matter."

"But it does matter," Shawn said earnestly, "it could change everything."

Gus slumped his shoulders and groaned. Juliet looked over at him in worry before she replied, "It's ok. You can tell me anything, nothing has to change if you don't want it to."

Shawn sighed in relief. "Oh good. Because Gus kissed me."

Juliet's jaw dropped and she stared at him in shock as Gus snapped back in a painful-sounding whisper, "On accident. I kissed him, on accident."

Shawn leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "It's ok though, you're way better at it than him."

"Oh, for crying out- I kissed him on accident, he kissed me on purpose!" Gus retaliated.

Shawn grinned as he told Juliet, "We've got a second date this Friday. I told him I had to ask you. So…?"

Juliet continued to stare, not sure what she was supposed to do with the information they were giving her. She finally shook her head and answered faintly, "...Ok."

Shawn glanced at Gus. "See? I told you she was fine with us."

Gus rolled his eyes and Juliet noticed that they both seemed less tense even as the paramedics filed in. She smiled as she understood what had just happened.

They had a long road ahead of them, but they weren't going to have to walk it alone.

A/N: And that's it for the whump! If you want angst and recovery, stick around! The next few chapters will sort of mirror the recovery chapters at the end of The Pharmaceutical Psychic and the very beginning of The Life of a Psychic. Different injuries, different trauma levels, different trauma points. Some things will be similar, others will be very different.

See you guys in a couple of weeks!