A/N: AKA the 5 times Gus didn't say no and the one time he did.

"Why aren't you punishing me?"

The ice pack numbed his fingers as Shawn tightened his hand around it. It made sense, in a way; it was Gus. He didn't like using punishments. But he'd also made it clear that he'd do it if he needed.

Gus' sigh as he turned around made Shawn's gut clench, the feeling spreading through the tight bruising ache where he'd been kicked. He'd known making a scene would hurt Gus, but he'd done it anyway. He deserved whatever punishment came his way.

"Why do you think I'd punish you? Haven't I proven by now that I don't want that?"

"I know you don't want it," Shawn agreed as he dropped his gaze. "But I broke the rules. You said you'd punish- discipline me if it was needed."

If he caused too much trouble, he could be kicked out of the dorm. Gus had to make sure he didn't do it again. Shawn had known that when he'd opened his mouth, and he'd accepted it. Gus wouldn't make it hurt more than it needed to; he didn't even have to make it hurt at all. He could take away privileges instead. That would be a Gus-friendly way of taking care of it. He could take away the newspapers, or food cart snacks, or give Shawn orders in the mornings to stay quiet…

Which would be his right, and Shawn could ask a question through the shock. He wouldn't have to give up his conversations with Abigail…

"...Shawn."

Shawn flinched; why did he always have to zone out at the worst times? He shook his head without thinking and the pain in his face throbbed in time with the movement. "Sorry. It's ok; I know you have to."

"Really…" Gus said dryly. "So we're going to get into trouble if I don't discipline you?"

They were already in trouble because Shawn had acted without thinking. It hadn't been a guarantee that the boy would have done anything to Abigail. "You need to make sure it won't happen again."

"And how many times have you been 'disciplined' and you still act out?"

"...A lot," Shawn admitted. Was there anything he could do that would make Gus discipline him?

"And is someone else going to discipline you if I don't?"

"No…"

"Good." Gus walked past him and Shawn heard the sounds of the coffee maker being prepped. "Then I don't have to do anything. That ice pack works better if you hold it against something, you know."

Shawn lifted the pack to his face, the cold plastic soothing the hot pressure spreading across his cheek. The pill packet rested in his other hand and he contemplated it for a second before tearing it open with his teeth and swallowing the medicine dry. Gus wasn't going to punish him; Gus deserved to not have to give any orders.

"Besides, the world sucks," Gus grumbled. Shawn turned around to see him glaring at the coffee maker like he could force it to brew faster with the power of his mind. "You already got beat up, and the guy who did it didn't even get a slap on the wrist. That seems like punishment enough to me. He probably would have gotten in worse trouble if he'd broken my real stuff…"

"Maybe." Shawn shrugged, the pull of the bruise on his back not hurting too badly. "But coffee makers don't mouth off to people."

Gus snorted and just glared harder at the innocent appliance.

He was too good for this world… Shawn's eyes slid over to the newspapers next to the sleeping bag. He'd made Gus have a bad morning, but he could make it better. Maybe that was better than earning his forgiveness through punishments. It was a more people-way to earn forgiveness.

He made his way to the stack, making sure to not limp. "Did you have any plans for today?"

"You got beat up," Gus repeated. "I figured that basically guaranteed we'd stay in…"

Shawn hid his wince as he bent down, his ribs protesting the movement. It didn't matter. He picked up the newspaper he'd left on top and stood back up. "Or… We could check out this place."

He held the paper out and Gus took it, reading out-loud. "Fifty percent off all washers and dryers. Everything must go."

"Other side."

Gus flipped it around and his eyebrows went up. "New hobby store just opened. Including specialty items like…"

His voice trailed off and Shawn finished the thought for him. "Like practice locks for amateur lock pickers."

Gus hesitated, looking up to scan Shawn worriedly. It was obvious he wanted to say no, but Shawn had recently noticed something interesting. Gus never told him no. He met Gus' eyes and waited, already knowing what the answer would be.

"...You're sure you're up for this?"

"It's just a few bruises." Shawn let the ice pack drop to his side and smiled in demonstration. His skin pulled tight on his cheek and his swollen eye squinted without his permission.

Gus sighed and reluctantly agreed, "Ok. But it doesn't open for a few hours. Sit down and rest. Please."

Shawn followed the order, sitting on the bed as a twinge of annoyance made him grumble, "Yes, sir…"

Gus turned to his coffee as he grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Stubborn bastard."

Shawn's black eye was swollen shut by the time Monday came around. He moved carefully around the room, having already stubbed his toes several times on furniture he couldn't see. "Gus, I swear, I'll be fine."

"You know, you always say that. Did you ever think that maybe you're allowed to not be fine?" Gus snapped back.

Shawn just raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, ignoring the sharp twinge in his ribs. He waited for his collar to beep in warning before drawling, "Yes. Clearly I've been allowed to think that."

"Oh don't give me that. This is literally the reason the janitor job has days off."

"Pretty sure the days off are for when the master can't drop their slave off," Shawn corrected.

"Fine. Then I can't drop my slave off while he can't see out of one of his eyes!" Gus huffed and collapsed into his chair.

Shawn sighed and gingerly settled on the edge of the bed. Gus had good intentions, but he didn't understand. The janitor needed to be stopped, which meant Shawn couldn't waste time on healing when he could be looking for intel. Maybe today was when an important phone call would come in, or the man dropped his wallet, or he'd say something incriminating.

Abigail needed him; he couldn't let a few bruises get in the way. "Your family might want you to come home early for Thanksgiving; you'll want the two days for then. It's just bruises, and I want to work."

Gus groaned; it was obvious he wanted to say no. "Fine… But I want you to take medicine before you go."

"Deal," Shawn said as guilt and relief warred in his gut.

"He probably would have gotten in worse trouble if he'd broken my real stuff."

Shawn subtly shook his head, trying to knock the incessant quote out of his head. It had been plaguing him all day as he'd cleaned bathrooms and watched the janitor.

Gus' real voice cut through his thoughts. "Are you hurt?"

"I was beat up a few days ago," Shawn answered without thinking.

"Shawn…" Gus sighed as he unlocked his door.

It was kind of fun causing that reaction when he didn't have to worry about being hurt for it. "Nothing more than usual happened."

"Did he ask about the bruises?"

"No, but he did find it funny." The janitor had especially liked the fact that he couldn't see well. Shawn subtly rubbed the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling that clung to him. On bathroom days, he'd learned to expect the janitor's chewing tobacco to be spat on the ground for him to clean up. But not being able to see it when it landed right on his hand had been a new level of disgusting.

"What an asshole… I rescind all orders."

Shawn relaxed as he crossed the threshold into Gus' room and his leash was removed. Gus' homework load had increased and he almost always needed to work after picking Shawn up. Which meant Shawn had some quiet time to think. The janitor situation needed a good thinking session.

He settled in his corner, keeping quiet as all of his bruises grumbled at him. Part of him wanted to keep the motion going to lay down and take a nap. Which would be a ridiculous waste of time. Instead, he grabbed his sketchbook to keep his hands busy as he thought through what he knew.

His dad's voice whispered in his ear, "Lay it out for me. What's your objective?"

He needed to get the janitor away from Abigail.

"How can you achieve that objective?"

He could kill him, get him fired, make him move cities, or get him reassigned.

"Don't forget to look at the whole picture. Are there other ways to achieve it?"

Shawn frowned, his pen moving aimlessly across the paper. Maybe he could intimidate the janitor to back off? Or the janitor could get hurt enough to not be able to work… Or maybe he could get Abigail out of the picture.

Though how he could do that when he couldn't even talk to her anymore was a good question. Gus had turned being overprotective into a lifestyle; he didn't let Shawn go anywhere on his own anymore. Not even to shower in the mornings. The pen slashed down, bleeding a harsh line across the page. Without even knowing it, Gus had found the perfect punishment.

Which was his right, and it was safer, and Shawn didn't need to talk to her anyways. He needed to figure out the janitor problem.

"Ok, you know what you need to do, now look at what you can do to get there. Preferably legally."

That was the problem. He basically only had two things he could do. He could follow orders or he could make a scene. And neither one of them helped him get closer to the objective. He needed a third option, but collars and orders and rules all kept him boxed in. He tapped the pen against the paper as he looked up and studied Gus' back.

Gus was good at thinking of third options. "Hey, Gus?"

Shit, what was he doing? This was a terrible idea.

Gus turned his chair, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yeah?"

Bad idea, abort, abort, abort… "If you had to get rid of the janitor, how would you do it?"

Gus' jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He needed to stop, Gus was already overprotective, it was going to make things worse… "If you knew the janitor was going to do something bad, how would you get rid of him so it wouldn't happen?"

"Has he done something to you?" Gus asked, his voice turning low and dangerous.

A shiver went down Shawn's spine at the tone, but his mouth kept moving without his permission. "He hasn't done anything yet… and it's not for me."

Gus' thunderous expression cleared with a quiet, "Ohhh." He thought for several seconds before asking, "What exactly is he doing?"

He was already this far into the terrible idea, there wasn't any point to stopping now. "He's been getting handsy with… some of the other slaves."

"And you think he's going to do worse?"

"He was just looking a couple of weeks ago."

Gus sighed, his eyes knowing as he asked, "You're going to do something about it no matter what I say, aren't you?"

Shawn forced himself to maintain eye contact; it was the least he could do. "I could use some help."

Gus' jaw twitched, and it was obvious he wanted to say no. His entire body language screamed that he needed to keep Shawn safe and shield him from harm. Shawn could practically read all of the options Gus was thinking as he tried to stop the impending disaster. Orders, broken contracts, broken trust…

Gus let out a shaky breath and gave Shawn his answer. "Ok. Lay it out for me; what do you know?"

Shawn followed Gus to Crystal's room, almost having to jog to keep up. "What good is this going to do?"

"We need more information," Gus explained without slowing down. "Maybe there's a way we can do this without doing something that'll get you into trouble."

That seemed unlikely. But then again, it was why he'd asked Gus for help in the first place. The lanyard flapped against Shawn's chest as he caught up with Gus, just in time to stop at the door. "What are you going to tell her?"

"I haven't decided yet." Gus knocked on the closed door without hesitation.

The door opened, and a black-lined eye peeked out through a curtain of hair. Did she run into furniture too? Or could she still see with her face covered? Crystal huffed as she saw who it was and stepped back into her room. "Eh, what the hell; I could use the break. Come on in."

Gus strode in and hadn't even finished lowering himself onto the futon couch before talking. "I want to know more about the janitor program."

"You're already signed up," Crystal pointed out in a monotone as she walked to her desk and closed a thick law book. "Isn't it a bit late for that?"

Shawn stood in the doorway. Gus had left enough room for him on the couch, but he hadn't actually given any indication that Shawn should sit. Was it a test?

"I want to know more about the janitor's role," Gus barreled on. "What they're allowed to do, and what the penalties are for breaking those rules."

"Why?" Crystal asked. "Do you think something happened?"

"I'm just looking for information."

Gus was protecting him. Protecting all of the slaves. Shawn crept further into the room and perched on the edge of the sofa. Gus glanced over quickly with a small smile before turning his attention back to Crystal. Not a test, then. But his choice had made Gus happy.

"Ok… Like I already said, janitors act in an overseer role and are allowed to use the collar within reason to keep the slaves in line."

Gus leaned forward in interest. "Define 'within reason'."

"Nothing exceeding normal wear and tear," Crystal said as though reciting from memory. She shrugged at Gus' disgruntled look. "Basically, they can't shock a slave for five minutes straight, but they can shock a slave five times in five minutes. As long as it's not needlessly excessive, no one's going to complain."

Gus would complain. Shawn could see him fighting the urge as his jaw ticked and he took a deep calming breath. "Ok, what about touching? If they can use the collars, that means they can't touch, right?"

"They're allowed to physically move the slave out of the way if it's more expedient than using the collar. But nothing that will leave marks or bruises."

"What if they do leave bruises?"

Crystal narrowed her eyes in thought before moving to open a drawer of her desk. She pulled out a thin folder and held it out.

Gus took it as he asked, "What's this?"

"The answer to what you're actually asking." She waited for him to flip it open before explaining, "That's every claim the university has dealt with in the last five years where a slave in the janitorial program required medical treatment. That treatment ranged from stitches to splints to an abortion. Eighty percent of the owners only received compensation for medical services and a pittance for the days the slave was 'out of service'."

Gus' eyes widened in horror as he flipped through the pages. Crystal pulled out a slightly thicker folder and said, "This is every instance I've been able to find of a slave in the janitorial program being hurt worse than the contract allows. Most of them are from informal interviews, so it was only owners who paid attention to their slaves and weren't embarrassed by them 'acting out' and deserving harsher treatment. Most likely, the number of actual instances is three to four times as high." She dropped the file onto her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "And this is the list of janitors who have actually lost their job due to those breaches of contract."

Gus took the paper and flipped it over. Both sides were blank.

Shawn quietly crossed 'Get the janitor fired' off of his list.

"Some janitors have been retrained or had a formal write-up. Only a few had docked pay or were put on leave. Each time, they were reinstated quietly after the hush money was paid out." Crystal paused and let her words sink in before dryly asking, "Does that answer your question?"

It was obvious Gus wanted to say no, that he wanted to deny the evidence in front of him. It wasn't easy, watching his trust in the system erode away in real time. Gus' sigh was heavy as he avoided the question and held the folder out. "Why do you have these?"

"Because you were right; it's not fair." Crystal took the folder and placed it gently on top of the one on her desk. "It's dangerous for the slaves and disingenuous to the owner for the contract to be enforced on their end but not the other. I want to fight that." Her eye flicked over to scan Shawn before saying, "But I doubt that'll happen anytime soon. Definitely not in time to stop whatever you're worried about."

"Yeah…" Gus glanced over and gave Shawn a smile that didn't meet his eyes. "Sorry. I had to try, at least."

Shawn nodded; he'd known that. They both stood up and Gus held out his hand. "Thanks for the information."

Crystal smirked at the action and gave him a firm handshake. "Try not to do anything too stupid."

"I never said I was going to do anything," Gus quickly defended himself.

Crystal rolled her eye, her huffed laugh making her hair flutter out. "I've seen a lot of slave-master relationships over the years; you two are on the unique end. Try not to do anything too stupid."

Gus' uncertainty was easy to hear as he answered, "...We won't." He waited until they were back in the hall and making the slow trudge back to his room before asking, "So, do you have any other ideas?"

Shawn quickly ran through the other options; which one was the least likely to freak Gus out? A memory broke through with Gus' voice. "He probably would have gotten in worse trouble if he'd broken my real stuff."

Shawn's eye widened and the final piece clicked into place. The line crossing out 'Get the janitor fired' disappeared as the option glowed with hope.

"I still don't like waiting…" Gus frowned, all of his attention focused on his tools in the lock.

""We need evidence for it to work," Shawn answered with a shrug. The extra days of healing were obvious in how much less the bruises on his back hurt. And in both of his eyes being useful again. "I'll be able to get it next time we have a bathroom day."

"So gross..." Gus muttered before grinning in triumph as the tools turned and the lock clicked open. He unhooked it from his drawer handle and looked at it fondly before swapping it out for the next practice lock.

It was honestly the most relaxed Shawn had seen him in months. Warmth spread in his chest as Gus chose a pick and inserted it in the lock. He'd done that; he was helping. "You keep that up, the girls'll be lining up for your number."

"Or lining up for a restraining order," Gus countered, sounding amused. He added a second tool, his hands steady as they made the small movements necessary for the task. "Did you see the magazines they had? Safecracking."

His eyes shone at the promise of more challenges ahead, and Shawn allowed himself a private smile. Who knew that Gus would be such a fan of breaking the rules? Not to mention, it was a very useful hobby; they were going to need it to stage a crime.

Though, it also meant that Gus had to be with him when he broke the rules. Which wasn't safe. Shawn watched the next lock click open before asking, "Could you-" Slaves didn't ask for things… But Gus liked it. "Could you teach me?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah." Gus pulled out the first lock in the set, showing off the clear sides. "We'll start with this. You have to understand how the insides work before you can pick it."

Shawn tried to listen to the explanation as an uneasy buzzing started in his head. Had Gus wanted to teach him, or was he just saying yes because he wouldn't say no?

"So, basically, one tool is moving the pins while the other tool keeps tension so they stay in place."

Gus needed to stay in his place, so why was it Shawn who was holding the tension? It wasn't right.

"Different locks have different mechanisms for the pins, so that's why the different kinds of picks. Once you get to the more advanced locks, part of the process is figuring out what kind of mechanism you're working with."

Shawn tried to focus; he really did. But the buzzing kept getting louder until Gus' voice sounded like part of the background. It wasn't right, and he needed to fix it. "After th-this, can… can we get fish for dinner?"

Gus paused mid-explanation with a hurt look on his face before agreeing, "Yeah. We can do that."

Gus hated fish. Shawn swallowed against a dry throat and asked, "Y-You said the Tell-Tale Heart movie was good… can we watch it tonight?"

Gus' eyebrows went down in a befuddled expression as he reluctantly answered, "Sure…"

Why was he doing that? "And this weekend. Can we try cliff jumping?"

"...Why are you asking these?"

"C-Can we?"

This one had to be the one that made Gus say 'no'. Then everything could go back to how it was supposed to be.

"Do… Do you really want to?" Gus asked instead.

The uneasy buzzing spiked to a roar and Shawn sprung to his feet. "Gus, don't be Ella of Frell."

Fear rushed through him, but he shoved it down. He'd meant it, damnit.

"What… I'm not an Ella!"

"You're totally being an Ella! You're just saying yes to everything even when you don't want to, and you're just doing what you're told and you're… you're…"

His collar tightened as words escaped him. That wasn't what Gus was. Gus wasn't supposed to be like that, couldn't be like that. But Shawn had thought he couldn't be like that and now look at him and god, something could happen to Gus too. There were so many ways it could happen. Then he wouldn't be choosing to not say no, he wouldn't be allowed to say no. And he'd have to go through everything Shawn had, and he couldn't do that, and it wasn't how it was supposed to be, and… and…

"Woah, easy. Shawn, easy, you're safe."

But Gus wasn't safe. No one was ever safe. All it took was one wrong decision, one financial mistake, one small misstep… And then they were lost. And if Gus was lost, then they were both lost. He didn't want to be lost again; he was just starting to be found.

"Shawn, breathe in."

Shawn's body listened to its master, but what would happen when that didn't work anymore?

"Hold your breath."

At least Gus was acting like a master again. He needed to keep acting like a master, the other option wasn't acceptable.

"Breathe out."

The buzzing in Shawn's ears lessened as he exhaled. Reality slowly cleared around him as he continued to breathe at Gus' command. The floor was cool against his palms and hard against his knees. Gus knelt next to him, which was wrong. He shouldn't kneel. Shawn closed his eyes, pretending that Gus was just sitting at his desk like usual.

"You can breathe on your own. You don't have to say anything, but it'd be really helpful to know what the hell just happened."

He couldn't tell Gus what to do, but Gus wouldn't understand otherwise. Gus had never believed in their places. The fact that he'd been trying to swap them was proof of that.

Shawn took in a shaky breath and did what his master wanted. "You… You need t-to say no."

Shawn couldn't see him and it was still obvious Gus wanted to say no, wanted to ask for more clarification, wanted to understand. But instead, Gus just said quietly, "Ok, I will. I'm sorry."

Shawn choked out a chuckle; even when Gus was agreeing to act right, he was doing it wrong.

Gus was silent for several seconds before asking, "So… When did you read Ella Enchanted?"

Gus was never going to stop surprising him. But for some reason, the bizarre question calmed him more than anything else Gus could have said. "I… I was trying to impress a girl who liked it."

"Did it work?"

"Nah," Shawn answered with a small headshake. He took another deep breath, feeling his heart slowly settle. "She caught me climbing the lockers. It was all downhill from there."

"Huh." Gus shuffled around and Shawn knew without looking that he was now sitting on the ground. "Maybe you should have learned lockpicking instead."

Shawn huffed a laugh. "Yeah, maybe."

Gus kept the small conversation going as Shawn stayed on all fours and tried to block out the dangerous world.

Shawn's legs jittered as he watched the clock on Gus' desk. His hand traced the small lump in his pocket, reassuring himself for the ninth time in five minutes that he hadn't forgotten it. Today was the day.

And it couldn't have come soon enough. Earlier that day, the janitor had kept his hand on Abigail's hip the entire time she'd been scrubbing one of the toilets. He needed stopped.

"We probably should wait one more hour. Just to make sure everyone's asleep or gone," Gus said quietly, like the powers-that-be could hear him through the walls.

"Sounds good," Shawn answered just as quietly. He watched as Gus popped open a practice lock before clicking it closed again. "All I need is for you to unlock the doors. I can do the rest. If I get caught, you can just say I snuck out while you were sleeping."

"That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Gus snapped out. His hands twisted the picks and he yanked the padlock open. "If you get caught on your own, you get hurt and who knows what. If I get caught, the worst that can happen is getting expelled."

Shawn's heart squeezed; he had to keep Gus safe. But he also needed to keep Abigail safe. "Y-You shouldn't risk that for me."

"You also said I needed to say no," Gus countered in dark satisfaction. "So, no. I will not let you take this risk on your own. Either we both go, or neither of us go."

Why couldn't he have had his freakout after the janitor had been taken care of? "There really isn't any way to talk you out of it?"

"Can I talk you out of it?"

Shawn sighed at the answer. "No…"

"Good, me either." Gus turned back to his lock with a sense of finality, and Shawn went back to watching the clock. Forty-five minutes until they framed the janitor.