A/N: Heads up, it's a chonky chapter at 6.4k words! Also, notifications are broke on FFN right now, so I'm keeping an eye on review count/inbox but I might take a bit longer to see any new interactions.

(1 year ago)

Wine poured down Shawn's throat, the dry, sour taste making him want to shrivel up and die. But that wasn't his choice to make. All he could do was keep himself from gagging as he swallowed the liquid that was worth more than him. It was all he was allowed to drink; he had to be grateful.

His master pulled the glass away from his lips, and Shawn gasped quietly for air as he kept his hands locked behind his back. A pit in his stomach grew, aching and pulling all of his attention. He had to keep better control over his stupid, small voice. He had to prove that he could be good and earn food again.

"There is always an excellent turnout for the annual Halloween party," his master said as he straightened the silk shirt around Shawn's shoulders. "I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Shawn ducked his head in acknowledgement before almost losing his balance. That had been his second glass of alcohol in the last hour, and it wasn't mixing well with his empty stomach. He never should have spit out the wine his master had let him drink. Being surprised by the revolting taste wasn't any excuse.

"Steady." A hand landed on his shoulder, and Shawn couldn't help his flinch as it gripped him tight enough to bruise. "It'd be a shame if you made a scene in front of the guests…"

His master was right; just because he was dizzy and lightheaded didn't mean he could stumble around and be an embarrassment.

Once he wasn't on the verge of falling over anymore, his master let go and reached into his pocket. "Now, one last thing. This is a costume party, after all."

Something dark fell over Shawn's eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. Did he make his master mad? The rough cloth shifted, and small holes lined up with his eyes. He couldn't see easily, but he wasn't blind.

He wouldn't survive being blind. "Th-Thank you, master."

The ribbon holding the mask pulled tight behind his head, the pressure mixing with the wooziness to promise a future headache. His master stepped back, and Shawn saw a long red-lined cloth swish along the ground. "Keep being good like that and you might earn dinner."

Shawn gave another small bow in acknowledgement, focusing everything he had on keeping his balance. Something glinted in the light, and he flinched back before being able to make out the silver tray that was being held out to him. The tray that was full of food. So much food.

He needed food to survive.

No, he needed to be good to survive. Shawn took the platter and kept his eyes locked on a shiny spot between two flaky, heavenly, orange pastries. The spot shifted, and he saw a small reflection of his master popping the collar of his cape.

His master sounded amused when he ordered in a thick Hungarian accent, "Come, thrall. My guests are hungry."

"Yes, master," Shawn answered faintly as the world started to spin.

(Present Day)

"All I'm saying is that Dracula isn't the only vampire that deserves recognition," Gus finished his rant as he stopped and pulled out his trail map.

"So far your examples have just been an old soap opera and a movie absolutely no one remembers," Shawn pointed out as he walked past to look down one of the trail branches. It was nice to move without any restraints. It made it easier to live up to his newest resolve.

Gus was happier when Shawn helped like a person, and Shawn liked helping like a person. It still felt wrong, but it felt less wrong now than it had even two weeks ago.

"Blacula was one of the top grossing films of 1972 and it was the first movie to get an award for Best Horror Film." Gus briskly folded the map back up.

"And yet still, no one remembers it."

"It's criminal is what it is." Gus pointed down the smoother trail. "That way for half a mile, then it's my turn to carry the bag. We could do it so fast if we had vamp-speed…"

It was good to see Gus finally relaxing after all of the tests were done. Shawn started walking in the right direction, the backpack pulling comfortably on his shoulders as a slight breeze brushed by his face. "There is no way 'vamp-speed' is a word anyone actually uses."

"They will when the nightwalkers come back out…"

Shawn looked at Gus in disbelief. "You actually believe in vampires?"

"N-No, definitely not," Gus stammered, looking like a kid whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar. Shawn let the silence speak for him and Gus broke in only a few seconds. "Ok, it's not that I believe in them, believe in them. But… If aliens and ghosts are real, why couldn't vampires be real too?"

"...Ghosts?"

"My Nana's house was haunted, you can't tell me otherwise."

"Sure I could," Shawn said, confidently ignoring the fact that Gus could order him to say otherwise. "I'm just choosing not to."

"If you'd woken up in that stuffy old room and heard someone breathing next to you, you'd believe in ghosts too."

The unexpected memory locked Shawn's mouth closed and the trees that had been so cheerful now loomed overhead. He wasn't safe.

"...At least we can both agree that aliens are real, right?"

His master had asked a question. "R-Right. That's a given."

"Need to take a snack break?" Gus asked in worry.

Gus was a good master, a good friend. It was safe. "I'm ok. Sorry."

"You're doing good." Gus' frown gave away the fact that he was trying to figure out what had freaked Shawn out. But the trip had been so nice before, and the slave thoughts had been so quiet, and ScareFest was just a week away, and he couldn't blow it now…

"Y-You think the UFO over San Francisco was real in the forties?"

Gus' jaw dropped and he nearly walked into a tree before his brain caught back up with him. "Well it sure as hell wasn't a weather balloon…"

Shawn could stll feel the memories creeping between the dark trunks. He moved away from the danger and closer to Gus. "Imagine the government trying to shoot down one of their own balloons."

"It's the flimsiest cover story I've ever heard." Gus gave him one last worried look before launching into his ranting-voice. "There've been dozens of sightings over the years, and everyone knows California is a hotspot, but still no one takes it seriously…"

Shawn let Gus' voice wash over him as the surrounding darkness slowly leached away.

The wood trim in the study area looked the exact same after Shawn ran the dusting rag over it. He kept his annoyance to himself as he knelt down to dust the lower baseboard before moving on. The janitor had to know he hated this job; it was the only explanation for it always being given to him.

Just two more hours. Two more hours, then the rest of the evening, then sleep, and then… ScareFest. It was so close he could almost taste it.

Halloween had always been his favorite holiday as a kid. A whole night where the rules were flipped upside-down: people could act however they wanted, things that were bad were suddenly good, candy was given out like water… His dad had tried to add rules, to 'control the chaos', but Shawn had known the truth. His dad had liked it almost as much as he did, even if he'd grumbled about the years where he'd been stuck giving tickets and directing traffic.

Shawn's hand was motionless on the wood and he flinched at the realization. The expected shock didn't come, though, and he quickly finished the section before glancing back at the janitor.

The janitor wasn't looking anywhere near him. Instead, his mouth chewed his tobacco hungrily as he watched the bent-over form of Abigail wiping down the windows. As soon as she stood up straight, he barked out, "Windows. Hall."

Shawn mechanically started dusting the first thing he could reach and watched out of the corner of his eye as Abigail made her way to the door. She shied away and made herself as small as possible as she walked through, but it still didn't stop the janitor from reaching out and giving her a firm swat on the butt. "Keep it moving."

He'd been getting handsy with her over the last week. It wasn't bad enough to cause a distraction, but it was close. Shawn clenched his jaw and looked back at his hands, realizing too late that he was dusting the couch cushions. A bolt of pain seared down his neck and into his bones.

"Rags, you do not want me to have to come over there."

Shawn caught his breath as the pain faded, and he moved the dusting rag to a more useful place. The shock had been stronger than usual, but it wasn't what worried him. There were almost two more months left in the semester, and people like the janitor always escalated.

Shawn had joined the program to protect Abigail, but he'd also promised Gus he wouldn't cause trouble. And even if he did start something, it would just mean Abigail would be alone with the janitor once Shawn was sent away. He needed a way to get rid of the janitor.

The first thoughts that came to him involved a lot of blood and screaming, but as enjoyable as that sounded, it wasn't right. His dad, Gus, and even Abigail wouldn't like it. And there wasn't any way he'd survive the resulting punishment. He had to take care of it another way.

Shawn spent the next two hours sneaking glances to study the janitor, looking for the chink in his armor.

Rowan was standing with Gus when the slaves came back from working, their presence giving Shawn the sudden urge to glare. The weight of the janitor's gaze kept his head down as he handed over his dusting rags. He was already on thin ice; other overseers would have already complained about him to his master. He couldn't be kicked out of the program. For Abigail's and Gus' sake.

It didn't stop him from blaming Rowan for Abigail's predicament. They might have had good intentions, putting her in the program with other slaves, but they clearly hadn't thought it through. And they weren't the one who'd pay the price.

Gus' order to stand was echoed by Rowan, and they stayed next to Gus on the way back to the rooms, chatting and paying no attention to the slave they'd just picked up. Shawn paid attention. Abigail hid her emotions well, but he still saw the small breath of relief when the door to the stairs closed behind her and the easier way she moved her arms while she walked. The janitor scared her, but she felt safer with Rowan.

Whatever else he thought of them, he had to give them credit for that at least.

"...Honestly can't believe I passed. And with a decent grade too! That was a good call on changing what my paper was about." Rowan beamed at Gus before asking, "How did your tests go?"

"I did… ok. I got a B on the paper too; the TA said it was an angle no one had ever tried before. So, that's something I guess…" Gus' casual shrug didn't betray any of his stress at having a less than perfect report card. Shawn knew better, having helped him through several nights of spiraling when he only received one A in all of his classes. It was the least he could do, since he was the reason Gus hadn't been able to study enough.

Gus quickly changed the subject as they entered the hallway. "So, what are you doing this weekend? Celebrating the passing grades?"

Rowan wrapped their arms around themselves. "Uh… nah. I think I'm taking a break from parties for a bit."

From what Shawn could tell, Rowan went out drinking nearly every weekend. Gus knew it too, the frown easy to hear as he asked, "Everything ok?"

"Yeah," Rowan reassured him in a tone that screamed everything wasn't ok. "Things just… didn't go great at the last one. And it's a really good thing that my roommate was there." A smile snapped across their face as they reached for their door. "ScareFest sounds like a good time, I hope you guys have fun. I think it'll just be a quiet weekend for us. See ya later."

"...Yeah. See you," Gus answered as the door shut in his face. "That was weird…" Shawn silently agreed as Gus turned to him. "Were you hurt?"

"Nothing big," Shawn said in their usual routine.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Honest." He actually was. The program wasn't comfortable, but he didn't feel like he was being pulled in two anymore.

"Ok, I rescind all orders." Gus unlocked his door and stepped to the side. Ever since the new rule, he always made sure there weren't any active orders in his room.

Shawn stepped through the door and imagined a forcefield pulling… something… out of his skin, leaving a vague cloud out in the hall. Things were supposed to be different in the room, but he didn't know how to make that happen. He had to try though; it would be better for both of them if he could switch modes easier.

Gus' face was pinched with worry as he unclasped the leash, and Shawn gave him a smile as he said, "So… T-minus twenty hours."

Gus huffed a laugh, even as the worried crease between his eyebrows stayed the same. "Yeah. I take it you still want to go?"

"Yes. I still want to go."

That, at least, got a genuine smile. "Good to hear. I forgot to tell you, I checked the rules when I bought the tickets last week, and slaves are allowed with their own ticket. So you're good, but that's probably why you didn't see many when… the last time you were there."

A surprising rush of relief had Shawn smiling as he sat on the bed. "So we're definitely doing it."

"Yup," Gus confirmed with a grin. "ScareFest, here we come."

It was exactly how he remembered it.

Plastic skeletons grinning from every wall, strobing lights with dramatic thunder, the smell of grease and cotton candy. A canned scream sounded out from the haunted house and real screams rose joyously through the air as a ride flung its passengers around. Every which way Shawn looked he saw movement and lights and sheer adrenaline.

He should be looking down and staying invisible. People were noticing him; it wasn't safe to be noticed… but it was exactly how he remembered it.

Though, some of the rides definitely seem smaller than last time…

They made it past the ticket takers with surprisingly little resistance, and Gus immediately found a quiet corner to ask, "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I'm good," Shawn answered as a man dressed as a zombie shambled past them. There were people, lots of people, but that came with the experience. It wouldn't be the same if there wasn't a crowd.

"Ok… Good." Gus looked around with wide eyes, like he was trying to take in everything at once.

Because he was. He'd never been here before. This time, Shawn was the expert.

And Shawn knew exactly how to ease him into a new situation. "When I used to go here, they had the best caramel apples."

"I could definitely go for a caramel apple," Gus said as he tore his eyes away from a ride with seats that flipped and spun around a central spire. He sniffed the air before nodding towards the arcade booths. "They're that way."

"Your super sniffer is scary sometimes," Shawn answered as he took a sniff of his own. Savory and sweet fried foods clashed with the smell of oil and grease from the rides, the mix just shy of overwhelming. It smelled like ScareFest.

"It's a family gift." Gus started walking confidently towards the food. "Though sometimes it's more of a curse. Do you want to know how many people here showered recently? Because I can tell you, it's not enough."

The caramel apples were just as delicious and sticky as he remembered, and they walked by the haunted house as they enjoyed the treats. Shawn's eyes feasted just as much as his mouth as he took in the cobwebs and bloody eyes and clawed hands. Something hissed nearby and one of the monster animatronics burst to life, falling forward as its hands reached out.

Gus flinched away with a dramatic yelp, and Shawn couldn't help but chuckle as the machine slowly retracted the knock-off Frankenstein back to its original position. Gus gave him a light glare before running his hand self-consciously down his shirt. He almost sounded disgruntled when he asked, "How is all of this not freaking you out?"

Shawn shrugged as he walked past the monster. "I dunno. I guess I know they're not real."

Gus squinted at him before loud screaming drew his gaze up to a nearby ride. Shawn watched the shadow of a ship flip upside down, and Gus gulped before asking, "I know it's more crowded, but are you good to check out the games?"

It was odd, being the less nervous one. "Sure. Who knows, maybe a giant stuffed animal will make me less conspicuous."

Gus huffed a laugh, just like Shawn had hoped, and they both ignored the glances they were getting from the people walking past. "If I earn a bear, you better believe I'll be the one carrying him. You don't get to steal my glory."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Shawn fell silent as they walked to the busier area, keeping his attention on staying out of everyone's way. The sounds of the rides became overshadowed by bouncy music and loud whistles. A recording yelled over their heads that anyone could be a winner as a young boy threw a plastic rifle to the ground in anger. People laughed ahead of them, a baby cried behind, and a hand landed between Shawn's shoulder blades, shoving him forward in a way that couldn't be anything but deliberate.

Shawn didn't fall back to his proper place afterwards, even after they moved further along in the crowd. He wasn't scared; he was just making sure no one caught his leash or tried to walk between him and Gus. The fact that he could breathe easier when he was closer to Gus was just a nice side effect.

What would past-Shawn think of him feeling safer around a master?

Gus looked back and didn't seem surprised to see Shawn right behind him. He pointed ahead. "It looks less crowded over there."

Shawn nodded and focused on the decorations as they made their way to the booths Gus had pointed out. The jack-o-lanterns were a classic, their insides flickering even though it was broad daylight. The shrunken heads were much less of a classic, but whoever had put them up got points for commitment.

Thirty baseball hats, eleven witches hats, and five very obvious wigs.

Gus stopped, and Shawn stopped with him, taking in the baseballs and stacked bottles in the booth. Gus paid for a turn and picked up one of the baseballs, tossing it in the air with a confident smirk. "Ready to see me beat this in one throw?"

Shawn's lips twitched up on their own. "I'm watching."

Gus tossed the ball in the air one last time before winding his arm back and letting loose in a pitch that would make Kevin Cosner proud. The baseball sailed through the air and hit the back of the tent, missing the glass pyramid by a foot.

"That was a warm-up pitch," Gus immediately defended himself as Shawn's grin grew larger. The second throw went just as wide and the third just barely managed to knock down two of the bottles. At Shawn's quiet snicker, Gus handed over money for another round and rolled the balls in Shawn's direction. "Fine, let's see you do better."

And the world stopped as Shawn's fingers brushed over the first baseball. The carnie was glaring at him, he couldn't throw away something that was given to him, was he allowed to break the bottles, what if he hit someone when he pulled his hand back, he shouldn't be allowed to do this…

"Shit. Shawn, breathe," his master ordered.

Not just his master. His friend. Shawn's lungs filled and he pulled his hand back to lock it safely behind his back.

"Sorry, you were handling everything else so well, I thought it'd be ok."

He was making Gus worried. Shawn nodded in agreement and forced the words out of his mouth. "M-Me too. Sorry."

A shadow fell over them and the carnie said, "Your slave is holding up the line."

"There's three other stations, I think they'll be fine," Gus snapped back.

"You've got one minute to get it under control or move on."

Shawn cringed back as the air grew thicker and harder to breathe. He was causing a scene; he was embarrassing his master. He was going to be punished.

"Hey, want a free game?" Gus immediately asked the girl behind him. "Watch out, the bottles are glued to the shelf."

He stepped closer and Shawn closed his eyes, focusing on breathing in and out. His master was safe; not like the other masters. It was ok.

"Hey, follow me. We're not going far." Gus led him to the small aisle between the game booths, the cords that stretched across the ground convincing most people to walk around. "Take as much time as you need, I rescind all orders. Though breathing is probably still good to do."

Shawn cursed his brain as he kept breathing. They'd been having fun, he'd been fine… ScareFest was supposed to be good. It wasn't supposed to be tainted by those kinds of thoughts.

He could do better. He'd been doing better; he'd just been surprised.

"Do we need to leave?" Gus asked, his voice completely neutral. He was getting better at that.

Shawn shook his head. "I'm o- I'll be ok."

Gus took in a breath to answer before stopping. The sounds of ScareFest filled the silence, the happy screams and music contrasting sharply with the quiet bubble of tension surrounding them. Gus finally asked, "Are you saying that for you, or for me?"

Gus had spent money on the tickets, and he'd really been wanting to come… But that wasn't why Shawn had said it. "Both."

"Huh." They listened to someone shoot several targets next to them before Gus asked, "What are you up for doing next, then?"

Gus had been having fun with the games, and Shawn had been having fun watching him. Celebration music played out after one last clang, and Shawn tried to smirk. "How are you at shooting?"

"Absolutely terrible," Gus answered confidently.

Gus really was absolutely terrible with guns. His form was non-existent and he kept jerking the barrel of the rifle up with each shot, even though there was no way the BBs had that much recoil. He'd only hit one target in fifteen shots.

"Man, this game is rigged," Gus grumbled dramatically as he paid for another try.

"I thought everyone knew that." Shawn couldn't make himself unaware of the crowd and danger again, but his dad's voice was growing louder with every missed shot. Gus brought the rifle back up, bracing it in his armpit for some reason, and Shawn couldn't stay quiet any longer. "It's easier to aim if it's actually high enough to see the sights…"

"What, you were trained to shoot, too?" Gus asked as he brought the stock of the BB gun up to his shoulder.

No one needed to know that part of his dad's training. "... It's shooting to the left and down."

Gus shot him a sideways glance before looking down the sights. "Told you it was rigged."

"And that's totally why you missed nearly every shot," Shawn agreed.

"Thank you." Gus shot again, just barely clipping the target. He smiled proudly at Shawn.

Shawn couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm too old for stuffed animals anyway," Gus declared as the game played defeat music again.

Shawn studied the targets as they were reset. He probably could have won… But slaves weren't allowed to have weapons, even BB guns, and Gus had known better than to offer. Still. He could have won.

Gus led him away from the games, and Shawn took in more of his surroundings. Now that he wasn't being dazzled by all of the decorations, he could see the more subtle signs of the nearby hidden slaves. Trash cans that were clean, footprints in the mud, a decorated trailer with nothing attached to it. He also noticed when Gus doubled back to change directions so they wouldn't walk by the livestock area.

His dad had always avoided the exotic slave displays too.

Gus finally seemed to have seen enough as he stepped into a small shaded area between food vendors. He let out a shaky breath before visibly steeling himself. "Ok, I picked last time, now it's your turn. We can do anything that you want."

What did he want? He'd calmed down from earlier, but it had left him feeling on edge. He couldn't relax and risk the thoughts coming back. But he also hadn't been here in years and wanted to enjoy it with Gus.

Gus was clearly nervous about the rides, but they'd already played games and had a snack. Was there any ride he'd enjoy?

"I'm not going to order it," Gus said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "But you should think about what you want, not what you think I want."

But that just made things more complicated… Shawn looked around again, trying to find the elusive answer. He didn't know what he wanted…

"It took you three rides to figure everything out. Not bad." His dad handed over a neon-colored snowcone.

Shawn took it with a grin; he'd actually figured it all out in two rides. The third time had just been for fun. "Does that mean I can go on the murder falls now?"

"I think you're still too short for that one, sport."

Shawn turned his gaze up, looking at the log ride that towered over the haunted house and scramblers. It had always been the peak of ScareFest, the white whale that he'd never been allowed to conquer. It had been, 'Maybe next year when you're taller,' but next year had never come.

But it was a haunted house mixed with a long drop. Surely Gus wouldn't want to do it. He should find something else… "D-Does that include the murder falls?"

Damnit, him and his stupid mouth. "Sorry. Not that. The fun house seems…. Fun."

Gus didn't seem to be listening to him as he stared up at the ride. Fog billowed out of the entrance at the top and a log with people in it followed before plummeting down with a spectacular splash. His eyebrows rose as his voice squeaked, "That's what you want to do?"

He couldn't lie, but Gus wouldn't tell him no if he told the truth. At least he wouldn't be punished for side-stepping the question. "There's- There's more snacks to check out, or games, or spinny rides…"

Gus looked at Shawn before looking back up at the ride. He sounded more steady when he said, "You want to do that."

"I've never done it before," Shawn tried to explain. "But you won't like it, it's ok-"

"We're here to experience ScareFest." Gus set his jaw, making it clear that he wouldn't be changing his mind. "So let's go experience ScareFest."

And that was how they found themselves being strapped into a hollow log five minutes later.

Which was also when Shawn realized he might have had a bad idea. The lap bar clicked into place over his legs, trapping him, holding him down. The log moved, carrying them towards a gaping maw with nothing but darkness past it. Darkness was bad.

"Shawn…"

Gus was with him; it was ok. He wasn't alone this time. "Good."

"Ok… Good." Gus let out a shaky breath as the darkness enveloped them.

Purple lights clicked on, spreading shadows across the fog that rolled over the water. Shawn's heart settled as a creature breathed in the background, its hairy shoulders just barely visible as it raised and lowered behind the dark trees. A balloon attached to bellows under a furry cloth. The small gleam of teeth was a nice touch. Something scurried past on the other side; an optical illusion with a spotlight and speakers. The growing tension worked well with the sound of the falls echoing behind the walls.

A cold burst of air blew down on them and Gus spoke quietly. "It's just a ride, and we're totally ok, and people never die on rides ever…"

Gus sounded legitimately afraid… Shawn looked over in surprise, the perfect timing giving him a front row seat to a cardboard cut out springing up next to the log, and Gus screaming like a little girl. A loud crack of lightning split the air as a bulb flashed and the room was flooded with light. A wolf's bloody snout lunged at Shawn, rats scurried over a rotting lump of meat, A large spider spun a web around a human-shaped lump, and giant men loomed over the trees, their faces split in grins with too many teeth. It was everything he'd ever hoped it'd be.

The lights went out again, and the log shook before angling up, taking them closer to the drop. The only sound filling the area was Gus' loud breathing.

He'd been nice enough to let Shawn go, he deserved reassurances. "Gus, you know the ride means they can't do anything that touches us, right?"

"Sure, yup, definitely-" Gus cut off with a loud squeak as loud flapping rushed by them with another burst of wind.

"The giants were just cutouts, the spider was a painted volleyball, and the rats were being pulled by strings," Shawn explained as experimental vats and jars suddenly became illuminated by a red backlight. Gus liked knowing things, maybe it'd help.

It didn't seem to help, as Gus squeezed his eyes closed when a shadowy figure moved behind a table with broken test tubes. Light glinted on the thick goggles obscuring the man's face, and a bloody lab coat hung in tatters over his shoulders. The actor let out a high pitched giggle as he gestured dramatically, and dozens of monsters and failed lab experiments sprang towards them and dropped from the ceiling.

Shawn flinched at the movement before letting out a small laugh at the rush. It was like he was twelve again. The constantly changing sights and sounds keeping him locked in the present; nothing else mattered except for this moment.

Fog surrounded them and obscured their view as a train sounded its horn. A bright light rushed towards them, and the smell of chlorine grew.

"Gus, we're almost there."

"Yep, I can see that," Gus answered in a false calm voice.

Shawn glanced over and smirked. "Your eyes are still shut."

"I'm protecting them from the water."

"For the last half of the ride?"

"Yup. You can never be too careful. Chlorine's a poison, you know."

He should probably feel bad that his friend was scared. Or happy that his master was scared. But all he could really feel was humor at how transparent Gus was being. "You said you wanted to experience ScareFest."

"And I did." Gus' head was moving like it normally did when he talked, but his eyes were still squeezed closed. "It was lovely. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Shawn answered, not even feeling bad that his amusement was easy to hear in his voice.

The light at the end of the tunnel approached them quickly, and Shawn grinned as he waited for the last rush. This had been a fantastic idea.

The sunlight hit his eyes, the log tilted down… and then everything stopped with a jolt.

Shawn blinked at the drop and the water passing by them before glancing down further to see workers scrambling at the controls of the ride. A small huffed laugh passed his lips as he watched one of the workers run their hands frantically through their hair as they stared at the console. Of course the ride would break while they were on it. Why wouldn't the ride break while they were on it?

"Well, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. Good news, you don't have to keep your eyes closed…" Shawn turned to look at Gus, and the rest of the words died in his throat.

Gus' eyes were already open, and they were staring down as his mouth gaped. And he wasn't breathing.

Shit, he wasn't breathing.

He was afraid of heights; Shawn just hadn't realized how afraid. "Gus, hey, it's alright. We're still on the track, see?"

Gus didn't answer as his chest stuttered without the benefit of an inhale.

"Gus, y-you need to breathe. You were the one who said breathing was important." Worse case scenario, Gus just passed out, right? Being 'scared to death' was figurative, not literal.

Or was it literal and not figurative? Which one was which? And that didn't matter because Gus still wasn't breathing. "Gus!"

Gus didn't respond. Shawn braced himself before reaching out with shaking hands. Slaves didn't touch their masters without permission, but this was an emergency. He put a hand on either side of Gus' face and guided it away from the drop. "You're ok, just look at me. It's just me and you right now, nothing else."

Gus' eyes locked with his and he wheezed in a tight breath. Shawn nodded in encouragement. "That's it. Breathe. Breathe in, hold, and breathe out. Same thing you've done all of your life, easy peasy. Breathe in… Just like you're always telling me, right? Hold… Easy as pie. Though, I think your mom would say that pie isn't actually easy. Out…"

Shawn kept up a running stream of consciousness as he monitored Gus' chest, making sure it kept rising and falling. After a minute of constant breaths, he let the words die out. Gus' chest kept moving.

"Sh-Shawn?" Gus finally gasped out.

"Yep, right here. Just you and me; you don't have to worry about anything else. Just keep breathing."

Gus' hands gripped the lap bar tightly. "And w-we're not about to fall to our deaths?"

"Nope. We're not going to fall to our deaths," Shawn answered evenly. He waited a second and grinned, "See? Collar didn't go off; not lying."

"You can lie."

"Sure, but I didn't this time."

"Ok," Gus answered in a small voice. "Ok."

Their roles were swapped; Shawn knew what he needed to say next. It was what Gus always said at this point. But it was what a master said to his slave, not the other way around… "You're doing good."

Gus let out a breathless chuckle, his eyes still desperately locked with Shawn's. "Thanks…" His eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he sounded more like himself when he said, "Wait a second. Did you just tell me what to do?"

Slaves didn't tell their masters what to do; of course he hadn't done that… Except when he'd told Gus very explicitly to look at him and breathe, and holy shit… he'd given his master orders.

Naturally, that was when the ride turned back on and they plummeted off of the cliff.

Shawn's racing heart rate wouldn't settle as they walked the outskirts of the festival. But he had bigger things to worry about. "You're sure you're ok?"

"For the tenth time, I'm fine." Water dripped off of Gus' shirt, making him look like a bedraggled kitten. And reminding Shawn of the splash of water in his face that he had not thought about when he'd picked the ride.

But that didn't matter right now. "Are you sure? Do you need your inhaler?"

Gus rolled his eyes, clearly over being fussed at. "You'd know if I needed my inhaler."

"Well I don't know!" He'd been stupid and hadn't thought things through and Gus had paid the price… "You said panic could set it off, and you went all Shelly Duvall up there!"

"What, Robin Williams started singing at me?"

Shawn stopped and stared. Did he really just… "I cannot believe you just made a Popeye reference."

Gus grinned at his look. "See? I'm fine."

"I dunno… You made a Popeye reference." Strangely, arguing with his master was calming him better than all of the previous reassurances.

"Just be glad it wasn't a Jaws Four reference."

"Ugh, god…"

Gus gave him a quick smile before looking away with a self-conscious look. He spoke to the ground as he said, "Thanks, by the way. For up there."

He'd done everything he wasn't supposed to do… "I'm sorry, for up there."

"Don't be." Gus shrugged awkwardly as he met Shawn's eyes. He cleared his throat and quickly looked away as he said louder, "So, are you a funnel cake or elephant ear kind of guy?"

Gus had every right to be mad about Shawn picking the ride… but instead he was letting Shawn eat something else that he hadn't had since he was a kid. Shawn's throat grew surprisingly tight as he answered, "Funnel cakes have way more of the delicious grease crust."

"Delicious grease crust it is," Gus immediately agreed as he led them back towards the crowds. "You know, I'm feeling a movie night now."

"I'd like that." Shawn followed Gus into the sea of people and monsters. At this point, he'd willingly follow him anywhere.

A/N: I was soooo close to being able to post this on Halloween! And it wasn't planned like that at all; I have a calendar in my outline that shows me when the boys are and this is just how everything landed!

Fun Fact: log rides don't actually have tracks, they're usually lifted up the hill by a rubber belt and natural gravity/current is what propels it in the water. I'm also not actually sure how workers would handle passengers if a ride broke like that. Luckily, this is fiction where everything's made up and the points don't matter, hah! I also refuse to apologize for contrived timing because it's practically canon that contrived timing happens all of the time. However, before anyone thinks a log ride doesn't belong in a fair ground... there's a log ride in the Scarefest episode. Someone dies on it, naturally.

I unfortunately can't give a guaranteed time for when I'll be back this time, it'll be whenever I have 8 chapters in the "buffer" again. I'm at two and a half right now… My best guess is mid January or early February. Don't worry, this won't be an infinite hiatus; I already have 12k words written further. I'm not gonna throw those away! I hope you all have wonderful holidays and see you in the new year (if not sooner)!