Gus wasn't faking being nice.

Shawn's mind rang with the silence that followed a rushing train as Gus paid for his clothes and led him out of the store. Gus wasn't faking being nice. If he repeated it enough times, maybe it would make sense.

He'd thought that he'd seen the full gauntlet of the types of masters he could expect with his temperament and lack of training. He'd been wrong.

What was he supposed to do now?

The short walk to the food court didn't offer any answers, the sounds and smells muted as Shawn only focused on his master-who-didn't-make-sense. Gus glanced at him before going to the pizza counter without saying a word. That was good; Shawn needed to think. A slave had to know what to do.

His pounding heart calmed as he focused on the problem and ignored everything else. He needed to start from scratch. What did he know about his master? He bought a slave who was visibly defective, he wanted to pretend his slave was a person, he didn't want to hurt his slave… Which was insane. Who would buy a mouthy slave and not want to beat it into submission?

"Yes, can I get two slices of Meat Supreme and two slices of Hawaiian, please?" Gus ordered at the counter. His master was hungry. Hopefully he'd let Shawn taste the Hawaiian…

Shawn shook his head and forced his mind back on track. Gus didn't want to hurt his slave, he didn't want his slave to do housework, he liked when his slave talked back. None of it added up. If someone didn't want a slave, then they just didn't buy a slave. What did his master want?

The food was handed over, and Shawn picked up the plates Gus wasn't able to hold. They moved to one of the tables and Gus settled down for his lunch. Shawn sank to his knees, keeping an ear out for any orders as he continued to think. He needed to figure out how to make his master happy; what did he know for sure his master liked?

His master interrupted his thoughts by making a strangled whining sound, and Shawn glanced up just enough to make sure he wasn't choking on something. Gus seemed fine, but he was looking down at Shawn with a pained look on his face.

What did he do wrong?

"Do you… I seriously want you to be comfortable, but do you really have to be down there?" Gus asked, sounding desperate.

His master didn't like him kneeling in his room; Shawn knew that. It hadn't occurred to him that would include when they were in public too. He winced at the oversight, but answered the question. "I don't know if it's a rule or not."

"Ok, well there's not many people here. And if anyone does get into trouble it'll be me, because you have to do what I say…" Gus looked like he was ready to just be done with the day as he rubbed the back of his head. "I know it's probably weird, just… please sit at the table?"

His master had given him an order, he had to follow it. Shawn moved and sat on the edge of the chair next to Gus. He glanced around, half expecting to see his trainer bearing down on him to throw him back to the ground or to set his collar off. But nothing happened and his master looked happier. He was being good. In a way that made no sense at all.

Gus finished his first piece of pizza and looked at the other three plates. His eyebrows went down as he asked, "Are you not hungry?"

What a strange question to ask a slave. "Yes, s- Yes, I am."

"Then why aren't you eating? You took the plates…" Gus asked in confusion.

The confusion was clearly contagious. Shawn answered slowly, "I was carrying them for you…"

"Damnit, I thought-" Gus sighed. "You can eat. I bought enough for both of us. Pick which flavor you want, I like both."

His master was also obsessed with making him choose things. Shawn glanced at the options as his small voice nudged him; Gus was different. Maybe the choices weren't tests. He braced himself and answered, "Hawaiian…" it was too close to insubordination to just give his choice. He had to make it clear he still knew his place. "Sir."

Gus didn't hesitate as he pushed one of the Hawaiian pieces over. Shawn looked down at the slice.

He had a whole slice of pizza.

There were certain perks to having an insane master.

"Thank you," Shawn said, double checking with one more look at Gus before lifting the food to his mouth and taking a bite. The crust was soft, the sauce was tangy, the cheese was perfectly melted, and the ham and pineapple added a sweetness that seemed to elevate the whole thing to a divine dimension. If Shawn died at that moment, he'd die happy. And he had a whole slice to go.

It took him several bites to remember that he might not have to hide how much he was enjoying his meal. Gus didn't act like his other masters; he seemed to like when Shawn liked something. Shawn experimented, focusing on his peripheral vision as he relaxed his face and let his pleasure show. Gus smiled when he thought no one was looking, and Shawn added another trait to his new list; Gus liked when his gifts were visibly enjoyed.

But what did Gus want in return?

Slaves were either used for labor, entertainment, or pleasure. Shawn slowed down his chewing as he reached the pizza's crust. Gus was only begrudgingly letting his parents use Shawn for chores. He didn't treat Shawn like a pet or make him do things, which took out entertainment. Pleasure was all that was left, but Gus didn't want to hurt him, and he hadn't done anything to get Shawn in his bed. He'd even let Shawn change clothes in the bathroom instead of watching.

Was there anything else a slave could be used for?

Gus finished his second slice and looked around as he nudged the last plate towards Shawn. "Are you full? I don't want another piece."

Shawn stared at the extra delicious food that was being offered to him. He had to figure out how to be what Gus wanted. He had to make this last as long as possible. "I'm not full."

Gus made him wait for several seconds before finally telling him, "You can eat it."

"Thank you," Shawn said quickly as he picked up the pizza and started to eat it before his master could change his mind. Who would turn down something this good? He'd gladly keep eating it even if he was full.

"Please don't make yourself sick," his master ordered almost fondly. Which made sense; a puking slave would be pretty embarrassing. Shawn slowed down and let himself be lost in the bliss of good food.

Gus continued to study the walls, and if Shawn didn't know any better he'd say that his master was waiting on him. Which was ridiculous. He sped up slightly -but not as fast as before- wanting to eat as much as possible before they started moving again. He was able to finish the second slice before his master decided to stand up and ask, "I know it's been a lot so far, but are you good to keep shopping?"

What would happen if he said no? Shawn shoved the small voice down before it could ruin everything. "Yes." He needed to make Gus happy, and masters liked when he knew what he'd done wrong. "I'm sorry about causing a scene."

"You didn't-" Gus sighed as they walked out of the food court, leaving their trash on the table for the mall slaves to clean up. "It's ok. It's obvious you've been through a lot."

Shawn frowned; what was he supposed to say to that?

Gus didn't seem to expect an answer as he kept walking, and Shawn sped up so he was almost next to him, just like his master liked. Gus also liked when he talked, but he really wasn't sure what to say. It'd been a while since someone actually wanted him to say something other than 'yes, master' and 'I'm sorry, master.'

Gus filled in the silence for him. "We'll do the rest of the shirts and pants next. If things start to get too much, can you please tell me instead of letting it get to the point of panic again?"

He shouldn't correct his master, but his master clearly didn't understand how slaves worked. It took the collar beeping to push Shawn to answer, "Masters lead; slaves follow. Not the other way around."

"Ok," Gus said patiently. "But your master is leading and saying to tell him if you're feeling overwhelmed."

It was a trap; the whole situation was overwhelming. "Yes, sir."

Gus gave him a knowing look as they walked into the next store. "Well, I had to try. Dark or light colors?"

"Dark colors, sir." Shawn chewed his lip; Gus liked it when he talked. "It's easier to blend in. Like a chameleon."

"Technically chameleons aren't dark, but I get what you mean." Gus scanned the store as he thought out loud. "We'll just pick out a few things to try on and buy a few pairs of whatever… one fits… oh my god."

Shawn looked in the same direction as Gus and felt his mouth pull up in a smirk. His master might not make sense as a master, but he still made sense as an eighteen-year-old boy. Gus was staring without blinking at a very pretty girl shopping just a few racks away. He tore his eyes from her and frantically said, "Tell me I'm not dreaming."

It was an order Shawn didn't mind following. "You're not dreaming."

"No. You don't understand." Gus glanced back as if to check that the girl of his dreams wasn't an illusion. "She's a sister with green eyes. I'm not making that up, right?!"

Shawn glanced up as fast as he could and checked his memory to confirm. "Yes, she has green eyes." Her dark skin seemed obvious enough to not have to confirm the 'sister' part. His master probably deserved the other piece of information he'd seen. "Green eyes that she's using to look at you."

Gus froze as if he'd been short-circuited. "She's looking at me?"

"Yes."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"What do I do?"

"Why are you asking me?" Shawn asked without thinking.

Gus blinked and seemed to snap out of his shock. "Right. Sorry. I should talk to her?"

His master was terrible at this. "That seems like the next logical step."

"I like logic…" Gus took a deep breath and turned around while muttering to himself. "I can do this, suave and smooth."

Shawn let himself fall back to his proper place and stayed as inconspicuous as possible. Gus didn't need any distractions as he walked towards the girl in a saunter that was neither suave nor smooth.

"Uh, hi," Gus said in a strange, low voice. Maybe Shawn should have given him tips. He'd been twelve the last time he'd tried flirting with a girl, and he probably still knew a better start than that.

"Hello." The girl tucked a braid behind her ear.

"My name's Burt- Uh... Gus. My name's Gus, what's yours?"

The warm fuzzy feeling was back in Shawn's chest, even as he tried his hardest to keep his face blank.

The girl sounded amused as she asked, "You don't know your own name?"

Gus' voice slowly rose back into his normal tone as he stuttered, "No. I mean, yes. I mean… It's kind of new." He gave himself a shake and tried to lean casually on the rack next to them. "I mean, one look at you, and I couldn't even remember-" The rack moved, and Gus frantically tried to stay upright as the girl hid her giggle behind her hand.

Gus' shoulders slumped and he stared at the floor in defeat. "Sorry, I'll let you get back to your shopping."

He turned and quickly walked towards the opposite end of the store. Shawn followed, trying desperately to not let his lips twitch.

He apparently wasn't successful as Gus grumbled back to him, "Well, at least you enjoyed it."

His lips suddenly became easier to control as Shawn realized his amusement had been visible. He'd been mocking his master. Even Gus couldn't be ok with that. Except Gus was just rolling his eyes and handing over a shirt for Shawn to hold.

He didn't make sense.

But he was also being nice, and he was clearly not happy as he turned his face away from the door while the girl-with-green-eyes walked out. Shawn listened to his small voice before he could talk himself out of it. "Your recovery was pretty good. If you'd stuck the landing, she probably would have been flattered."

And now he was telling his master what to do. His small voice sucked.

Gus looked at him in interest instead of anger as he asked, "You think?"

He was already screwed if Gus decided to stop being nice, he may as well commit. "You almost told her she was so pretty you forgot your own name… Not to mention it was the perfect setup to ask to borrow her number since you couldn't remember yours. It's not a bad play, as long as the furniture doesn't hate you."

Gus mulled over Shawn's answer for a second before pointing out, "Or I could just not forget my name."

Shawn didn't try to hide his smile as he agreed with his master. "Or you could try that."

Gus smiled back as he busied himself with finding shirts and pants. Shawn followed as two different realities tried to exist in his mind at the same time. Gus was happier, so Shawn had been good, but he'd been good by breaking so many rules. Rules that every slave knew and followed without thought. It was like he was being pulled in two, with what he was supposed to do as a slave, and what he was supposed to do to make his master happy.

Gus had bought a slave, and masters were always right, which meant there had to be an answer where things made sense again. Shawn just had to understand what Gus wanted from him, then he could stop second guessing every single thing he did.

"Ok, this is enough to get started." Gus handed over a couple more shirts while keeping a handful of pants. "Are you still good?"

At least the collar rules hadn't changed. Shawn draped the shirts over his arm as he answered, "Yes, I'm good."

The weight of the shirts was nice. So was the fact that they were all dark.

Once they were in the dressing room, Gus took the clothes back and Shawn carefully pulled off his shirt. The sores on his back still stung when he moved around too much, but they'd already healed enough to not be too distracting. His biggest concern was making sure he didn't touch his collar and trigger a shock; those were always set to the highest setting.

Shawn turned to his master once the shirt was off to see what he needed to do next, but he froze when he saw the look on Gus' face. He'd done something wrong again.

Gus moved slowly and hung up the shirts for Shawn to try in one of the stalls. He placed the pants under them and stepped back as he said in a forced-calm voice, "You don't have to show me all of them, just come out with what fits the best so I can see if we need a different size."

Shawn swallowed thickly and ducked his head, thankful for being given so many second chances. He'd forgotten Gus didn't like to watch him change.

As he closed the door to the stall, the two realities warped even further apart. He was being given privacy, he was supposed to make decisions about which outfit to show his master, he was being allowed to try things on himself instead of having someone constantly pulling and poking at him… Shawn broke another slave rule as he stood still and just let himself breathe for a few seconds.

He knew what he was expected to do right now. He could handle that and figure out the rest later.

…But what did Gus want?

Shawn tried to push against the pressure in his mind as he reached out and pulled the first shirt from its hanger. The price tag caught his eye and his stomach flipped; there wasn't any reason for Gus to be dressing him nice all of the time. How was he supposed to pay it back if Gus didn't want to hurt him?

Shawn forced his mind back into submission as he slipped the shirt over his head.

His master was right; polo shirts were a lot easier to put on than t-shirts.

Shawn glanced at the bags hanging from his master's hand as they walked away from the store. He'd only been given half of the purchase to carry after Gus had spent nearly a hundred dollars on him, and the plastic hanging from his wrist dug into his skin in reproach for allowing his master to do his job.

But slaves couldn't question their masters. Even when their masters didn't make sense.

"Of course the shoe place has to be halfway across the mall," Gus complained.

Shawn hadn't been paying much attention to the shoes on his feet. They didn't hurt much, but they did feel weird; like they were squeezing too much in the wrong places. He could get used to them. "These shoes are good. You don't need to spend more money." His master liked when he talked. "And I really am used to being barefoot. I'm like the Flintstones."

"Fred or Barney?"

"Bam-Bam," Shawn answered as he was caught off guard.

Gus chuckled. "I always thought Wilma and Betty had a thing for each other."

Shawn hid his own smile. Gus was right, and not just because he was a master. "You might be onto something."

Gus' shoulders loosened and he had a small smile on his face as they kept walking in the same direction. Shawn hadn't actually expected his master to change his mind.

A brightly lit storefront shone like a beacon in the rows of shops, and Shawn kept his head down as they walked towards it. He didn't need to look to see the accessories hanging from the spinning racks, the bags of nutrient-rich treats stacked on the shelves, or the various canes and straps hanging off of the wall. Gus slowed down and Shawn's heart sank. He'd been hoping they would just walk past the slave supply depot, but his luck was never that good.

Gus stopped and outright stared like he'd never seen a shop like it before. Shawn glanced up just long enough to confirm it wasn't a new store before staring at the ground again. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe his master would just browse for a few minutes and leave. Maybe he'd buy one of the Slaves For Dummies books and learn how to make sense.

Maybe he saw something on the wall that he liked.

Gus took a controlled breath and asked quietly, "Is there anything you need here that I can't find somewhere else?"

"No, sir," Shawn answered just as quietly.

"Come on," Gus practically growled as he started moving again. Shawn flinched at the tone, and Gus turned, leading him into the store. Except the store was much darker than expected, and more cramped, and his master was looking at… nightlights?

Shawn blinked and looked around the small shop, taking in the graphic t-shirts lining the wall, the strangely shaped shot glasses crammed onto the shelves, and the video game key chains hanging from the spinning racks. He retraced his steps in his memory and realized they were in the novelty store that was right next to the slave shop. But why?

"My room gets dark at night, and I don't want to accidentally step on you if I have to go to the bathroom," Gus said, answering the unspoken question. His eyes tightened, and he seemed to be trying too hard to keep his face relaxed. He was lying.

Why would he lie about that? Gus picked out a light and Shawn did a double take when he saw the pineapple cover. It could be a coincidence, but mixed with the lie, it didn't seem likely. The light was for him.

Why?

"What! I've been looking for one of these!" Gus said excitedly, either unaware or ignoring Shawn's confusion. He walked over to another shelf and picked up a small green figurine dressed in a flowing purple cape. "No one ever has Green Spirit merch."

He grabbed a couple more figurines and happily made his way to the cashier. Shawn trailed behind as he tried to understand a person who refused to be understood.

"I have so many of these comics," Gus said as he handed over his credit card. "There's even talks of a movie adaptation. If you decide to read them, let me know. I have a whole order for optimum enjoyment and understanding the lore, and… what?"

The cashier sounded confused as she said, "Sir, I think you might have me confused with someone else."

"I wasn't talking to you," Gus said, his eye roll obvious in the tone of his voice. The small bag joined the bags already hanging from his wrist, and Shawn stared at it as they left the store.

Why? Whywhywhywhy?

"One more stop and then we're done. You still good?" Gus asked.

One more. Shawn could handle one more stop on the most confusing day of his life. "Yes, still good."

"Here's what I'm thinking," Gus said as he led Shawn through the shoe store. "You need something you can walk around in, but since you're used to no shoes, you're not going to want too much support." He stopped and pulled a shoe down from the shelf. "So, what about something like these?"

Shawn glanced up to take in the simple cloth sneakers. They did look more comfortable than the high backed tennis shoes he was currently wearing. "They look nice."

Gus sighed and looked almost disappointed. What had he done wrong? Gus turned the shoe in his hands as he complained, "And you probably would have said that even if I'd shown you a pair of heels…"

He could make his master happy again.

"To be fair," Shawn said slowly, watching carefully for Gus' reaction. "Heels look really nice too."

Gus huffed a laugh, but still didn't look happy. Shawn tried again. "Those shoes look good for walking, which isn't something I'd say about heels."

"Please don't tell me if that's personal experience or not," Gus groaned, but he did seem slightly mollified. Shawn smiled to himself; it was personal experience, but not the kind Gus was thinking of. Which almost made it funnier.

"Sit and try these. With any luck they'll be perfect and we can go home."

Shawn followed the order, and was soon pacing in a small circle in front of Gus with the new shoes on his feet.

"Alright, stop," Gus ordered. "Let me check something."

Shawn stopped and Gus kneeled down to squeeze different areas of the shoes. Shawn stared off into space, barely daring to breathe. His master was kneeling. His master was kneeling, and he was standing, and it was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong…

"Damn, I'm good," Gus said happily as he stood back up. "Do they feel alright?"

It had to be a test. Should he kneel? But his master didn't like it when he knelt. He needed some way to prove he knew his place.

Shawn made himself as submissive as possible as he answered, "Yes, sir."

Gus looked at him sharply and Shawn froze. He'd gotten it wrong again. What did Gus want?

"Are they tight?" Gus asked quickly.

He could pass this test. "No."

"Do they pinch?"

"No."

"Are they comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Why are you freaking out?"

"Because masters sit and slaves kneel." He'd managed to stay in control of his words this time.

"How else was I supposed to check if they fit?"

"You weren't supposed to care."

Shawn winced at the words that had slipped past his defenses. Gus looked at him for several seconds before letting out a loud sigh. "Come on, let's go buy those and go home."

Gus wasn't happy. Shawn hadn't done his job; he'd been given so many chances and had still messed everything up. He'd been trying so hard to be good.

He'd failed.

The car ride home was silent, and Shawn snuck in several more glances of the world outside as they drove. Who knew if his master would ever take him out again after today.

The walk from the garage to Gus' room was somehow even quieter as Shawn felt the judgmental glares from Gus' parents as they both carried bags up the stairs. The bedroom door loomed in the hallway, and Shawn wished he still had the leash attached to his collar so he didn't have to walk himself to the gallows.

Gus had said he didn't want to discipline him, but clearly Shawn wasn't learning from his mistakes on his own. At least if he was punished, he'd know what he was supposed to do. And Gus wasn't faking being nice; he wouldn't make it hurt any more than it had to.

Shawn still shook as he placed the bags on the floor and stood at attention in the middle of the room. He'd get his answers. It would hurt, but he'd get his answers.

"Sorry, I know that was a lot, but I didn't want to put any of it off until next week."

Shawn stayed quiet and braced himself; he knew what was coming next.

"Ok, I'll give you some time to yourself. I'll bring up food for dinner so you don't have to worry about it." Gus took a step towards the door.

And Shawn's focus funneled onto that one fact as everything else faded away. His master wasn't stepping towards him. He wasn't being disciplined, which meant he wasn't going to get his answers. He needed those answers.

"Why are you being nice?" Shawn blurted out. His master froze, and Shawn couldn't stop the flood of words leaving his mouth. "You're not happy, and it's my fault, and you're not doing anything about it. You're happy when I'm acting wrong, you're not happy when I'm acting right, and it doesn't make sense, and you care about things that no one cares about, and why don't you make sense?!"

Shawn's heart thudded in his chest, but he refused to look away from his master's eyes. He was definitely getting punished now, but maybe that was good. Things could go back to making sense then.

Gus' mouth hung open as he stared back, but he didn't look angry. Why wasn't he angry? After several seconds, he swallowed before slowly asking, "Do you want me to be like your other masters?"

Of course he still wasn't making sense. Why would he start now? Fatigue pulled on Shawn as he answered, "I don't understand the question."

"Your other masters," Gus said, his voice tight. "The ones who wouldn't let you eat, and took things from you, and made you think that being hurt was what 'made sense'. Do you want me… do you need me to be like that?"

"A slave doesn't want things," Shawn said, his tone sharper than he'd meant.

"I don't give a damn. Do you want me to be like that?" Gus demanded.

"I… I don't…" A sharp voice cut through his memory, and Shawn flinched as he snapped his mouth shut. He couldn't say it; he wasn't allowed to say it.

"Damnit. Don't answer." Gus groaned as he ran his hand over his head. "Look, I have no clue what I'm doing. But honestly? If it's that different from your previous masters, then I think I'm probably doing alright. I'm nice because I think you deserve someone being nice to you. I can't help it if that doesn't make sense."

It was an answer, but Gus was right. It didn't make sense. So why was his heart calming, and why was the warm feeling back in his chest?

Gus sighed quietly and turned to his bookcase, shuffling several books around before reaching behind them to pull out a metal tin. He put it on the bed as he explained in a way that explained nothing, "It's not as good as freshly popped, but I don't really want to deal with my mom right now."

Shawn watched in confusion as his master put another DVD into his laptop and sat on the bed. Gus opened the tin and reached into the bag of popcorn that was inside as he said, "You can join me or not, your choice."

Why couldn't Gus act at least a little like a master? It was obvious what he wanted. Shawn whined, "Can't you just order me to?"

Gus smirked and looked far too self-satisfied when he answered, "Nope."

Shawn looked at the door; his master hadn't told him he had to stay in the room. He could go downstairs to Mrs. Guster where things made sense. She could order him around like normal, and he wouldn't have to be constantly thinking and second-guessing himself.

And he was actually thinking about willingly doing housework. He was so doomed.

His eyes slid over to the tin next to Gus. If he had to be doomed, then he'd rather be doomed with popcorn.

Shawn slowly sat on the bed next to Gus, eying up the snack. Gus hadn't said he could eat it. Gus wanted to be different from his other masters. Shawn watched his master as he tentatively reached in and grabbed a kernel of popcorn.

Gus didn't stop him.

A/N: For the record, "sister with green eyes" is a phrase pulled from canon.