[I am ashamed that women are so simple. To offer war where they should kneel for peace. Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, when they are bound to serve, love, and obey…]

Gus' vision tunneled red and he took a deep breath in and out. The Taming of the Shrew was supposed to be a comedy. He wasn't laughing.

A group of people walked past him, talking animatedly about a party. He ignored them and checked his watch; Shawn would be coming back any minute now. He pushed past his emotions and exhaustion as he turned back to the small book in his hands.

The 'shrew' in the play was a woman named Katherina, or Kate for short. She'd started off mouthy and rebellious until a man had pretended to be nice to her. She'd married him and he'd abused her, both mentally and physically, until she was 'tamed' and repeating everything her husband told her. Including that women were 'bound to serve, love, and obey'.

It was supposed to be exaggerated and over the top. In reality, it was scary how true to life it was.

Another group of people turned into the hallway and Gus buried his emotions even further as he watched the silent line walk to the janitor's closet. Shawn looked fine, like he had for the last several days, but it was wrong how perfectly he fit in with the other slaves. He didn't even glance up at Gus anymore, just staying in his line and doing what he was ordered. If it had been three months ago, Gus wouldn't have even looked at him twice.

But now he was finding himself looking at all of the slaves twice. Rowan's slave, Penny, blended in behind Shawn, her face a mirror of Shawn's slave-mask. Who was she when she wasn't around a free person? Who were any of them? Who could they have been if they hadn't been tamed?

And why hadn't he seen how wrong it all was before? Why was he the only one who could see it now?

Gus crushed the pages of his book as the slaves knelt in their spots. His TA had introduced them to the idea that the play didn't support misogyny but was instead meant as satire. Something that smacked the audience in the face and made them think. Would she be fighting against the initial impression of the play if Kate had been collared instead of married? Judging by everyone around him, the answer was pretty damn obvious.

What would happen if he wrote that paper?

"Stay," the janitor ordered, pulling Gus from his thoughts. The man pressed a button on his remote and walked away, not even sparing a glance towards the people he'd just forced to not move a muscle. Gus gritted his teeth and waited until the man had left the building before walking over to the slaves.

He made his movements deliberate as he unhooked the leash from the wall and ordered, "Shawn, stand up."

Shawn did what he was told, and Gus quietly let out a breath in relief when the collar didn't activate. He kept expecting the damn thing to malfunction and not recognize him when he counteracted the janitor's orders. He reached around Shawn's neck and moved the clasp of the leash to the front of the collar, earning himself a quick, grateful look.

After the first day, Shawn hadn't been as freaked out by the leash placement, but it was obvious it still bothered him. The optimistic part of Gus' mind hoped the switch would make a solid association for Shawn to come out of slave-mode. The pessimistic part pointed out that it was a leash. There weren't any positives to be had.

The pessimistic part was definitely the louder part.

"Follow me." Gus led the way to the stairs. "I managed to get most of my homework done so far. I've still got one more class in about an hour, so you can choose whether you want to come with or not."

Shawn didn't answer. Which was fine, because switching modes took time. It wasn't a terrible omen when Shawn didn't start talking right away. It didn't mean that his friend was digging his own grave and was deep enough for the mud to start filling in behind him…

The stairs seemed steeper than usual, and each step was a chore as Gus forced himself to continue his one-sided conversation. "The class is Calculus, which I know is probably as not-you as possible. But there's a food cart next to it that always smells amazing. We could check that out afterwards if you wanted to come with. Or if you stay here, I'll get you something." The following silence made the last flight of stairs seem too daunting to complete. Gus took it one step at a time until they were in the hallway. He kept his exhaustion from his voice as he added, "I heard a rumor that there was a japadog cart that shows up on campus sometimes. I don't know where or when, though. So, you know, there's that."

Rowan stuck their head out of their room right as Gus walked past. "I knew that was you I heard! Did you say japadog?"

"Uh, yeah." Honestly, having something not slave-related to think about was a breath of fresh air. Gus glanced past Rowan, taking in their room. Judging by the nerdy T-shirts they always wore, he'd assumed there'd be posters or collectibles around, but their walls and desk were surprisingly sparse. Which was especially apparent with how overly-decorated the other half of the room was. "Why do you ask? Have you had it before?"

"Nah, Mom and Dad aren't really the adventurous types." Rowan leaned on their closet door, not looking in any hurry to fetch their slave. "I hope you're right and they come to campus. I really want to try one."

"Yeah, they're pretty good." He should really get Shawn back to their room, but Penny was still stuck downstairs. And Rowan had listened to him before… Even if Gus didn't really like how they'd listened. "Just so you know, the slaves are done and ready to be picked up."

"Already?" Rowan looked at their watch. "Oh, look at that. Wow, you got yours fast."

"I was in the area," Gus answered vaguely. He waited, but Rowan didn't make any moves to leave. "You know, the floor downstairs is pretty hard. It probably wouldn't be comfortable to kneel on for long." Or at all. "And I know slaves can sometimes be stressed out when they're around free people without their master…"

Rowan made a face and finally pushed themselves off of the door. "Yeah, I know… You read The Better Master blog too?"

The name was familiar, and a faint memory made itself known. A website with the words 'Rewards are often just as effective as punishments. Try treats, pets, and verbal affirmations when your slave behaves…'

"I… didn't actually like that one." Gus shrugged and stepped back so Rowan could leave their room. "I just try to treat him how I'd want to be treated."

Rowan gave him a strange look. "But they don't… Never mind. Whatever you do seems to work. He's always well behaved." They smiled like they'd just paid Gus a huge compliment.

Gus' temper came rushing back as he forced himself to smile. "I'll see you around."

"Yep!"

Rowan bounced off, and Gus let his smile fall as he turned to walk the final stretch to his room. How did they still have so much energy?

A quiet voice spoke up. "So, what do you think they'd say if they knew you're happiest when I'm not behaving?"

"They'd probably think I was nuts," Gus agreed as relief made the last steps to his room effortless. "Did things go alright today?"

"Yeah, we were on bathroom duty. Nothing big happened."

It was the same reassurance as the last few days. And it still left Gus very much not reassured. He unlocked their door and unclasped the leash. "Were you hurt?"

"Only the collar, sir."

That didn't reassure him either, but at least Shawn was willing to be truthful. "Alright, I rescind all orders."

Shawn sat on the bed and Gus tossed his small book onto his backpack as he made his way to his chair. He was nearly done with the reading, but he couldn't stomach anymore of the abuser's words coming from the abused's mouth.

Shawn eyed up the play and smiled too brightly. "What'd Shakespeare do to you?"

"He had a stupid collar," Gus spat out without thinking.

Shawn let out a surprised snicker, and Gus buried his face in his hands as he groaned. Why was that the first thing he'd thought of? He was too tired for this shit. And he had at least two hard conversations looming ahead of him. "Sorry. But your collar is stupid too, for the record."

Shawn didn't seem to know how to react to the words, which meant it was the perfect time for Hard Conversation One. "So, bad news that you've probably already figured out. You're done with your work at one o'clock, but my Thursday classes aren't done until three thirty. I'm not going to be able to get you right away tomorrow."

"I know."

"Are you going to be ok?"

"I've been put away for lots longer before." Shawn's too-bright smile dimmed as he seemed to realize he was using the wrong expression.

A wave of frustration threatened to overtake Gus at the sight. It was obvious that the smile was for him. Shawn wanted to make him think everything was fine. Which was fucked up. Gus wasn't the one who was being forced to clean gross bathrooms while his collar kept shocking him.

"I'll be ok," Shawn added with a more serious look. "I know you won't leave me there."

Gus' throat tightened, and he looked away to regain control of all of his conflicting emotions. It was both terrifying and wonderful that another person would put their life in his hands like that. It was also so much weight to carry… "Damn straight, I won't. I'll make it up to you; the rest of the day will be yours to choose."

"It wasn't your fault," Shawn said quietly. His thumb ran over his knuckles as he fought to keep his eyes up. "I chose to work; you don't have to be nice because of it."

"I'm nice because you deserve someone in this damn world to see you," Gus snapped out, harsher than he'd intended. What would it take for Shawn to understand that he actually did deserve better?

"You're always nice," Shawn agreed. "I meant… you don't have to be extra nice. Because you feel guilty."

"I do not." Letting Shawn choose had been the right thing to do. Even if it had set everything back, and Gus had known it was the wrong choice, and the last three days had been flooded with regrets… "I'm being extra nice because all of this crap can suck it. That's all."

"Crap does suck," Shawn said knowingly.

The slaves had been cleaning bathrooms today… Gus made a face. "Gross."

Shawn smiled, looking oddly proud. "Yup. The rancid smell, the way it squishes, the way it sticks to the walls…"

Gus gagged, and Shawn snickered. The jerk was doing it on purpose. Which was actually kind of touching, in the weirdest, grossest way possible. "Just for that, I'm picking the movie tonight."

"Indiana Jones."

"Damn, you're scary."

Shawn grinned, looking much more relaxed than when they'd first come into the room. Which, unfortunately, meant it was time for Hard Conversation Two.

Gus chewed his lip before tentatively starting. "So, speaking of things that you've probably already realized… Friday is another client meeting for Dad."

Shawn's smile fell, leaving a vulnerable look in its place. "Already?"

"Three weeks…" They both knew what he was going to ask, but Shawn really didn't look like he was ready for the conversation. "We can talk about it later. I just figured it might be better to get it out of the way now, so tomorrow afternoon can be a real day off."

Shawn took a deep breath and shook his head. "I can do it now."

"Ok. Do you still want orders to help you during the meeting?"

"Y-Yes…" Shawn's jaw twitched as his gaze dropped to his clasped hands.

Shawn was asking for help; he couldn't say no. Gus forced himself to ask, "What orders would be the most helpful?"

Shawn fought an internal battle as the time for him to answer the question ticked down. Gus stayed quiet. Maybe the compulsion to answer would help him beat the slave-ism… The collar beeped, and Shawn flinched before quickly saying, "Your mother usually said to not speak unless spoken to."

Oh god, he was a terrible friend. Gus' stomach flipped as he tried to catch his breath. "Sorry, sorry, I should have taken the question back."

"W-Why?"

"Wh- Because I just scared you into answering!" Why was he suddenly sucking at doing the right thing? "Like a… like a bully."

"Like a master," Shawn corrected, giving Gus an easy out.

He didn't deserve an easy out.

"Same damn thing." Gus took a deep breath and refocused on the conversation. He had to do better. "So, it's easier to be quiet with an order."

"Yes…" Shawn's shoulders curled in, making him look smaller. "It's easier with an order."

And of course, that was all Shawn said, so Gus had to come up with another question that wasn't a question. "It would help to know if that was all you needed for the night."

Gus' guilty queasiness only grew as Shawn struggled to find the right thing to say. He should have waited to talk about this, he should have found an easier way to ease Shawn into it, he shouldn't have agreed to the meetings in the first place…

"I… I can say 'sir' and 'ma'am' without the order," Shawn finally said, his fingers twisting together. "And… And I know it's not a collar order, but–" He winced, looking like he hated saying the words as much as Gus hated hearing them. "It helps, to be ordered to be good."

The nausea spiked, sending a small rush of bile into Gus' mouth. He swallowed it back down with difficulty. Shawn had asked, he couldn't say no… But he couldn't say yes either. It was bad enough ordering Shawn to stay; he couldn't order him to be good like he was an unruly pet.

He needed information, to change it to an order he could say without hating himself. "I appreciate you telling me what helps, but I don't understand why."

Frustration tinted Shawn's voice as he said, "You don't like the answer."

Gus heard the words he didn't say. 'Slaves need orders to be good.'

Which was why having to ask questions without asking a question was so frustrating sometimes. It was a lot easier to be misunderstood. "I get why you want orders; you've been conditioned to need them. What I'm asking about is that last order. What it does, specifically, for you."

Shawn seemed surprised at the explanation and he slowly relaxed as he thought through the following silence. He looked up to meet Gus' eyes as he admitted, "I'm not sure. It's like… I can fall back, but not fail. That's the line, no further."

"But there's no way people haven't hurt you before with that order. Is it…" Nope, he wouldn't let himself ask a question. "Flashbacks probably make it harder on you."

"You don't sound like them." Shawn's lips twitched up in a small smile before he cleared his throat and looked back at his hands. "When I was in Mr. Fuller's house, your orders helped too. I couldn't fail."

The admission pushed the guilt back, giving Gus room to think. Shawn was talking about the orders like they were tools to use. It wasn't the first time Gus had wielded them that way, but it felt different now, with Shawn's logic backing it up. They could be used to help, not just hurt.

But he still couldn't say that order. Not with that wording at least… "What about a compromise?"

Shawn snorted, but at least he didn't point out how ridiculous it was to ask a slave for a compromise. "What are you thinking?"

"What if I ordered you to act like Mom wants you to act?" Gus shrugged, smiling ruefully as he admitted, "We both know that you probably shouldn't act like I want you to."

"I don't think dumping wine all over the client would be the right play," Shawn agreed. He cocked his head in thought before asking, "Why don't you want to tell me to be good?"

"Because this, you talking and being yourself, that's good." Gus clenched his jaw as his eyes landed on the small book on his backpack. "You having to say what they want you to say, and do what they want you to do… That's the opposite of good."

Shawn seemed to actually consider the answer instead of using slave-logic to dismiss it. "You're my master, not your mother. Th-That's good too." His thumbs tapped together in his lap. "What about… using the order you use when you drop me off?"

"Does that do the same thing?" Gus asked in surprise. Every morning, he'd been ordering Shawn to tell him if he got hurt and to not draw attention to himself. It always made him feel dirty, but it was also the only way he could convince himself to leave Shawn in the control of someone else.

"It's close enough for a compromise." Shawn met his eyes. "It does help."

"Ok… I can live with that."

Shawn nodded, looking guilty. "I'm sorry I need orders."

"I'm sorry I have to give you orders." The weight of both of their lives crushed Gus' soul. They shouldn't have to do this. He pushed the useless thought away and looked at his watch. "I have about twenty more minutes before I have to leave. You've worked hard and deserve a break if you're staying…"

"I'll come with," Shawn answered with only a brief moment of hesitation. "I need to know how the saga of the black-hair girl is going to end."

"It ends by never beginning," Gus grumbled, trying to relax into the lighter conversation. It was hard when his inner voice was screaming at their world. "I've learned my lesson. Girls are a no go."

"So why do you keep staring at her then?" Shawn asked with a smirk.

"Because she's pretty!" Gus slumped and pouted in his chair. "If I can't date them, I should at least be allowed to look at them."

"Or… You could try talking to her."

Gus snorted. "You mean I'd forget how to talk and make a fool out of myself. Thanks, no thanks."

"Aw, come on," Shawn cajoled. "You didn't even forget your name with Crystal. And you had a full conversation with her. Girls aren't all bad."

"You do realize that the 'conversation' was about screwing you over, right?"

"Eh," Shawn dismissed the argument. "It was a conversation. That's what matters."

What actually mattered was that Shawn was still talking to him like a friend instead of a slave. Gus was going to do everything in his power to keep it going. "What would I even say to her? 'Hi. Have you heard about differential equations?'"

"That was painful. Seriously." Shawn shifted so he was sitting cross legged on the bed, facing Gus. "Here's a thought: Have you ever thought of starting with something other than 'Hi'..."

The library was quiet and calm. Gus' mind was anything but.

It was his hour between classes and even though it was too early, an alarm blared in his head, yelling that he needed to get Shawn. He wrenched his attention back to the textbook he was taking notes on and tried to make the words make sense.

He'd promised Shawn an afternoon off, which meant he had to get his homework done now. But something was wrong with him. A mental forcefield separated him from the textbook, and his attention kept sliding off of it as the words 'Assume no friction' kept swirling through his mind.

At least he'd finished his reading that morning, and he was almost done with this chapter. But he still had a worksheet to finish, and he'd really wanted to look up more ways to help Shawn, and… He checked his watch. He only had thirty more minutes before he had to leave for his next class.

Gus groaned, keeping it quiet enough to not disturb any of the other students at the surrounding tables. He could get everything done, but only if his brain would stop being stupid. He focused and read the last paragraph again. And then the beginning of the section again. And then he turned back a page and found a point that he actually remembered reading.

He couldn't do this… If there was one thing he was good at, it was learning things. And now even that was failing him. There was just too much, all at once, flooding him with equations and definitions and readings. The second he thought he had a handle on one thing, they'd move onto another subject and he'd be floundering again as the things he'd just learned leaked away.

There was always more homework, more projects, more information. All of that on top of trying to help Shawn and anticipate what was going to go wrong and worrying when things went wrong anyway… It was never going to stop. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd taken a break.

When was the last time he'd taken a break?

Gus traced his schedule back, looking for the elusive answer. It hadn't been since they moved; he'd been too worried about helping Shawn acclimate. It hadn't been since they started preparing for college; he'd been too worried about finals and helping Shawn learn how to be a friend. Had it been since before he'd bought Shawn?

Which was a terrible thing to think. Shawn had been in a bad place and had been going to an even worse place, and here Gus was complaining about how he didn't have enough relaxing time? What gave him the right? Shawn was locked up all of the time, and he never complained. Gus had so many privileges compared to him; he could give up his time. It was the least he could do, he should do it happily, he should- he should…

He slammed the textbook closed, embracing the inappropriately loud sound. He should be fine.

What would he do if it was Shawn saying that?

The small struts of anger that had been holding him up crumbled at the memory of a paper butterfly with ink on its wings. He'd find a way to order Shawn to take time for himself.

Gus slumped in his chair at the admission. What was he even supposed to do with that? He didn't know the first thing about taking time for himself. Even when he hung out with Shawn -which should count as a break. They were friends- he was still having to overthink everything and be aware of his power as a master. He flipped his notebook over and stared at the blank page. He didn't even know what list to write. Though, if he was playing the role of Shawn…

His pen bit into the paper as he wrote without thinking. Complete idiocy stared back through his neat writing as he reread the words, 'Green Spirit's power grows when he's near injustice.'

What the hell? He hadn't even been thinking about the comics, besides a passing thought that Shawn deserved to be friends with a hero instead of someone like him. And Shawn had been reading a Green Spirit comic that morning before Gus had ordered him to be a slave again…

But what if the Green Spirit did exist in their world? How much better would that be? Gus started writing again, listing out every injustice he saw. Slaves forgotten in corners, Shawn shaking after a nightmare, people laughing at a whipping post, scars covering Shawn's body, words that stripped away humanity, stores with discipline rooms, surprised looks at kindness, Shawn's hands being still, blank faces, dollar amounts, leashes, gags, orders…

Spirit's power would grow indefinitely; he'd be invincible, all-powerful, a shining voice of justice. Collars would be broken, kids would be allowed to be kids, there'd be free coffee for anyone in the world who'd want it. Spirit would never need sleep, never doubt, never run out of energy. He'd always be calm, always with the right words to help, always perfect. He'd always be able to give and give and give…

The page blurred as tears obscured Gus' view. He wiped them away and re-read what he'd written. Spirit could do all of that… but he couldn't. He wasn't a superhero. He was just a kid who was treading water while trying desperately to keep someone else's head above the waves. And right now, he was drowning.

If he drowned, Shawn would drown too.

He wasn't a superhero, but he was still helping someone. And he couldn't do that if he didn't stay fit enough to keep swimming. For both of their sakes.

It felt like he'd run a mile as he slowly packed his bag, but his soul felt lighter. He knew what he needed to do. And luckily, he'd already done all of the research; he just had to apply it to himself now.

He walked out of the library as he pondered the question: What relaxed him?

"So, I was wondering," Gus said as he stepped over a large root that had pushed through the trail. "You've been doing better around crowds on campus. Would you be willing to do some things during our downtime that might have people around?"

Shawn hesitated before asking, "What did you have in mind?"

Gus couldn't tell him the real reason yet; he had to make sure Shawn would be ok with smaller crowds first. "This weekend, one of the downtown shops is giving away free comics. I thought you could look around and see if there's any other series that looked interesting. And I can get caught up on some stuff too."

And nerds were less likely to say something if Shawn was being less slave-like than they expected…

Shawn studied him for a moment before asking, "What's the real thing you had in mind?"

How did he do that? Gus rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably; he'd wanted to keep it to himself for a reason. But he couldn't tell Shawn no. "Ok, I did have something bigger in mind for later. But I was going to see how you handled smaller things first, so I wouldn't be asking you to pick between being comfortable and doing what I wanted."

"And what you wanted was…?" Shawn asked, like the persistent friend he was.

"In a little over a month… Scarefest will be in town," Gus admitted. He held his hands up to keep Shawn from freaking out. "I know it's big, and Halloween probably isn't your thing anyway, and you have full veto power here. I won't be mad if you don't want to go. I just haven't been allow- I haven't ever gone, and I've been curious."

Shawn didn't need to know that he'd been thinking about it for years. Or that he'd been counting down the days until he was on his own and able to go places without asking for permission.

Shawn didn't answer right away as he stopped at a fork in the trail. One side stayed a smooth dirt trail winding through the trees while the other side went up, the trail quickly dissolving into rickety rocks and random signposts. Shawn studied the dangerous path as he wistfully said, "I used to love Scarefest…"

"Really?" So many things scared Shawn now, it was hard to imagine a time he would have wanted to be scared on purpose.

"Yeah. Dad would take me." Shawn pressed his lips together, like he'd said more than he'd meant. Gus waited and prayed; Shawn almost never talked about his time as a free person. The few things he did share were precious gifts to be cherished. Shawn glanced over and made his choice. "He didn't like going on the fast rides, but we'd do the haunted house over and over. He'd explain how they did one of the special effects and would quiz me on some of the others. I'd have to have the whole thing figured out before we could get lunch."

That sounded interesting, but it also sounded like really high expectations. Something Gus was intimately familiar with. "So your dad is the reason you can… do what you do?"

"Sort of." Shawn shrugged. "I'm starting to think he was trying to help-" He shook his head and turned away from the rugged trail. "I don't remember seeing many slaves back then. I might not be allowed to go."

"I'll look it up." Gus watched his face carefully; was he reading the situation right? "You can say no, if you don't want to go. For whatever reason. I'll ask you closer to time, too, and I'll make sure you say yes before buying tickets."

It would be good if Shawn could say no on his own, but Gus was done trying to train him to do it. If Shawn ever said he didn't want to do something, it was going to be his own words coming out of his mouth, not Gus'.

Shawn nodded. "The comic shop sounds… fun."

"Ok." Gus started walking again. "It'll be something to look forward to. Will you be ok tomorrow at the client dinner?"

"I'll be good." Shawn winced, and he sounded less sure when he added, "I'll… be ok."

That was really the best Gus could hope for at the moment. He let the rest of his worries settle in the background as he asked, "So, the black-hair girl… I don't suppose you've got anything on her?"

Shawn snorted in amusement before quickly rattling off, "She likes dogs, she doesn't like the class, and she's definitely into you."

"Really?" Why would she be into him?

"Oh yeah. You should see the way she looks at you…" Shawn grinned. "She'd eat you up in a heartbeat."

"I'd let her eat me up in a heartbeat… She smells so good."

"That's probably not the best pick up line…"

Gus continued the friendly argument as they walked through the trees. There was a lot he couldn't do. But this, being there for his friend... That was something he could do.

A/N: Just to give you all a heads up, unless I get a huge spurt of inspiration in a few weeks, I'll be taking another short hiatus after the Halloween chapter (which will be a few weeks after Halloween. We were so close to syncing holidays this time!). My brain hasn't been cooperative recently -thanks, anxiety- and my buffer's definitely suffered for it. I'd like to get a bit further ahead again.