[Hey Gus,

This is just a quick note before Christmas festivities start. My cousin decided not to go to the big family get together this year, so we're just doing a smaller celebration here. It'll be the first time I've ever had Christmas with less than twenty people… Is it weird that I'm kind of looking forward to it?

I haven't heard from Mom and Dad since Thanksgiving. They sent a Christmas card to my cousin… The picture didn't have me in it. So that sucked. Screw them. My Christmas gift to myself is to not think about them for the rest of the day.

I took your suggestion and gave Abigail unrestricted speech. It was pretty easy after seeing how happy she was at the skating rink. She doesn't seem to know what to think of it yet and hasn't really used it… So I guess we'll just stay like this until she gets more comfortable. Which is nice, in a way, to know what I'm doing for a little bit.

Anyways, Merry Christmas! May your days be merry and bright!

Rowan.]

Christmas actually had been 'merry and bright'. Despite accidentally freaking Shawn out by giving him a present –would he ever figure out all of his snakes?- it had been a good night. 'Santa' had left a hundred dollars in his stocking, his mother had gifted him several nice shirts, and his father had given him a fancy briefcase for the days he didn't want to use his backpack. His sister didn't give him his present until later that night, safely out of their parent's sight. He smiled at the safe cracking magazine that came with the promise of three more months so he could decide whether to pick up the subscription or not.

His sister was the best.

There'd only been one almost-fight, when their father had cracked a joke about Santa using slaves to deliver the presents. But before anyone could protest, he'd gifted Shawn three days off from any chore expectations. Shawn had been speechless at the announcement, bowing his thanks instead of being able to verbalize it. Even more astonishing, Gus' father had nodded back with an almost respectful look.

Which was why they were now taking a long walk around the sunny neighborhood, enjoying an argument and a bag of caramel popcorn that Gus was carrying in his new briefcase. "Sorry but Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie. You can't change my mind."

Shawn sighed loudly even as he reached into the bag to grab another handful of food. "I don't get you. If Lethal Weapon is a Christmas movie, then Die Hard has to be one. It can't work both ways."

"Sure it can. I've decided everyone's obsessed with the Die Hard question, so I choose to ignore it," Gus answered smugly. Really, it didn't matter how someone wanted to categorize action movies and holiday movies. It was just fun making Shawn give him that exasperated 'Why can't he ever make sense?' look. Though, it was the day after Christmas. Shawn deserved an olive branch. "But we can agree Nightmare Before Christmas doesn't count, right?"

"Yeah… It doesn't know which holiday to belong to," Shawn agreed. He thought seriously as they turned a corner. "It's somewhere in the middle… Maybe it's a Thanksgiving movie."

"Nah, Charlie Brown is the only Thanksgiving movie. Nightmare is just weird."

"It's Tim Burton, that's pretty much–" Shawn immediately stopped talking as a furry cat bolted towards them and a tall teen burst out of a nearby house to give chase. The cat noticed them at the same time they noticed her, and she immediately changed directions, her floofed up tail streaming behind her as she scurried under a nearby car.

"No, no, no… Mrs. Mittens!" The teen stopped and stared aghast at the small space the cat was now hiding in. "Mom and Dad are going to kill me…"

The kid totally got the cat for Christmas… But he looked legitimately heartbroken as he knelt down to look under the car, and Gus couldn't stop himself from asking, "Hey, need some help?"

The teen jumped, clearly not having seen them. He glanced up for only a second before looking under the car again. "Oh gosh, really? Yes, please. She got scared and ran when Mom opened the door…"

Gus had never had a pet, but he'd always enjoyed playing with them at other people's houses. How hard could it be to calm her down? "Does she have any treats or anything that she likes? We can keep an eye on her if you want to go grab them."

"She does! There's these little catnip toys…" The teen jumped to his feet as he earnestly asked, "Are you sure? I can come right back."

Jesus, he was tall. "Yeah, we'll make sure she doesn't get lost."

"Thank you so much… I'm Buzz, by the way."

"Gus."

Thanks, Gus. I'll only be a minute." Buzz spun around and sprinted back to his house.

Shawn spoke up quietly, "All alone, everything out to get her… A treat isn't going to do it."

"Well if we go in and try to grab her, she'll just run," Gus answered. It was good that Shawn was able to switch back to talking so quickly.

"Yeah… And that's what we need." Shawn spoke faster as the teen ran back out of the house. "She thinks she's safe, but it's not actually safe, just safer than she was. You have to scare her, it's the only way she'll get somewhere actually safe."

"I am not scaring an adorable kitten!" Gus hissed as Buzz came into hearing range.

"I have the treats; do you really think it'll work?"

"I guess we'll find out," Gus said, ignoring the burning on the back of his neck. Shawn always thought he was right when he got like that; it didn't mean he was actually right. "We'll stay back so we don't crowd her."

Buzz nodded before kneeling down and sticking a small stuffed mouse under the car. "Here kitty kitty… look at the yummy mouse. Remember him? I put extra catnip in…"

The only parts of the cat that were visible were the faint outline of fuzz and her eyes. They didn't move an inch from where she was cowering against the wheel. Joy had tried to help a cat like that once; she'd climbed under the car and everything. But the cat had decided it was safer to climb up into the engine instead of letting her reach him.

Buzz reached in even further and the cat started to growl. The treats weren't going to work. And if they tried too long, she might start looking for other areas she could escape to, like into the road, or further into the car. They needed to make sure she went the right way.

Which, of course, meant Shawn was right. Gus sighed and dropped the leash, jerking his head towards the back of the car. "Stand over there, try to make sure she doesn't run that way."

"Yes, sir," Shawn answered. Hopefully he understood why Gus was giving orders…

Gus walked to the other side of the car while explaining quietly to Buzz, "I'm going to try to scare her so she runs your way. Get ready to catch her and keep that treat handy."

"B-But, I don't want to–"

Gus didn't give him time to decide what he didn't want. He said a quick prayer, dropped to his knees, and shot his hand under the car, visually blocking the way to the engine. At the same time, he started barking as loud as he could right behind the tire the cat was hiding behind.

The cat yowled in fright, and Gus braced himself for the feeling of claws. Instead, fur rushed by his skin as the cat sprinted away from him, and as he stood up, he saw the fluffy bundle attach itself to Buzz's chest. The cat's claws were fully extended, each one digging into his shirt, but Buzz didn't seem to mind as he gently held her close and lifted the mouse up to her nose. "Shh, shh… it's ok. I've got you…"

His fingers started slowly brushing down her poofed up fur, and Gus could see the very moment she decided Buzz was safe as her muscles slightly loosened and she gave the mouse a tentative sniff. He stayed where he was, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Thank you guys so much," Buzz said, his voice staying gentle.

A woman's voice rang out from the house. "Buzz, did you get her?"

"Yeah, Ma, I got her," Buzz answered back, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. He also gave a gentle wave, but at the cat's small flinch, he went back to gently smoothing down her fur. "I'm going to get her inside. Thanks again."

Buzz walked off and Gus kept his own voice low as he said, "I rescind all orders. And, yeah, I know… You were right."

"Thanks for not being weird around him."

It hadn't been the time to draw attention to Shawn, they'd both known that. It was still wrong. "I honestly don't think he would have noticed."

"Maybe not." Shawn glanced at the house as Gus picked the leash back up. "I can't believe he wants to be a cop. He won't last a month."

Well now he was just showing off. "How do you know that?"

Shawn gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? Didn't you see his police academy shirt…?"

"...Oh." Gus had been more worried about the teen's height and where the cat was to take in any other details. "Man, free people really don't see anything."

"You see more than most."

Gus just answered with a grunt as they started walking again. He hated feeling dumb.

"...And you were right."

Would Shawn ever stop surprising him? "Right about what? It was your plan that worked."

"You're right; Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie. Good movie, but not Christmas movie."

It was obvious what Shawn was doing… and it was both endearing and annoying. Gus wasn't used to having a friend who was sometimes smarter than him. But he wouldn't say no to an olive branch. "We're past Christmas now…"

"So it'd be the perfect time to watch it," Shawn agreed. "Since it's not a Christmas movie and it's not Christmas time anymore."

Gus huffed in amusement and started the walk home. "And you say I'm weird."

"You are. You listened to your slave and did what he said to do." Shawn hesitated before reaching into the bag and taking one piece of caramel popcorn.

Gus opened the bag so it was easier to reach into. "It would have been dumb not to; it was a good plan."

"And you are anything but dumb," Shawn said in satisfaction, like he'd just completed the perfect plan.

…Which he probably had. But this time it just made Gus smile fondly as they turned the corner. It was good to have a friend like Shawn.

[I'm not sure if I'll be able to make next semester work. My application for financial aid is in limbo, no one will loan me money without a permanent address, and I'm still waiting on a few job interviews.

My cousin is awesome, but I feel bad adding two extra mouths to feed. We're trying to figure out rent and stuff now so I can use her place as a semi-permanent residence. I just can't imagine juggling all of this and school at the same time. But then I think about the money I could make as an engineer… It would fix so many things.

So… Maybe you could come up here and visit sometime?

Hope your last few days before school go good.

Rowan]

Gus drummed his fingers against his desk as he reread the email. He knew damn well where Rowan could get enough money for a few semesters of college, and the complete lack of Abigail's name didn't make that fear any quieter. How did slave sales work? If she was gifted to Rowan, then did that mean Rowan's name was on her papers or did their parents still technically own her? Could they sell her if they wanted to?

Rowan still didn't see her right, though they were getting closer. Surely he was worrying over nothing…

"Hey, Gus," Shawn said as he walked through the door. "I'm on break now."

"Shawn. Hey." Gus quickly slammed the laptop closed. "It's you, here, now… Hi, Shawn."

"...Wow." Shawn shook his head and went to sit on the bed. He was clearly fighting –and failing– to not look at the laptop curiously.

Which, really, why hide it from him? He'd just figure out what was going on later, if he didn't already guess it now. May as well give him all of the info. Gus sighed and opened the laptop up before handing it over. "Sorry. I just got this from Rowan…"

Shawn didn't seem surprised as he read the short note and his face was blank as he handed the laptop back. "He didn't say anything about her…"

"Yeah, I know."

"Can you ask?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Thanks."

Gus sent the requested email, keeping the computer angled so Shawn could read it if he wanted. It still didn't stop the nervousness that was making his stomach want to reject his lunch. Hopefully the answer wasn't bad…

[Man, I didn't even realize that I didn't mention Abigail. There just hasn't been much going on as she gets used to having less collar orders, you know? Well, I guess she kinda panicked one night… That was weird. And kinda showed how I still have no idea what I'm doing. Does Shawn ever get like that? How do you get him feeling better?

Holy crap, and Abigail just spoke up without me asking anything. Is this how you feel when Shawn does weird things? No wonder you've been helping him… I feel like a proud parent and like I just solved the best math equation all at once. Uh, anyways, she said that you always ask about her, but never actually talk about Shawn. She wants to know how he's doing.

So, yeah, Happy New Years to us!

Rowan.]

Gus sighed in relief and placed his still-open laptop on his bed, right next to the small cake and boxes of candy. It would be the perfect not-present present. He'd learned his lesson to be much more careful about gifts from now on. He didn't have to wait long before his door opened.

"Hey, Shawn. You done for the night?"

Shawn walked in and froze as he saw the items on the bed. "Hey, Gus. Yeah… What's all of this?"

Gus grinned and held up a box of matches. "This is a birthday party." He waited an extra second for Shawn to recognize what he was going to do before striking a match and lighting the small candle sticking out of the cake. "I can sing if you want, but it seems kind of awkward with just the two of us."

"... But it's not my birthday," Shawn said, clearly confused and wondering at Gus' sanity.

"According to your papers, it is. And for the record, that's not me wanting to know your real birthday." Gus blew out the match and tossed it in the trash. "That's me telling you, Happy thirty-seventh birthday."

The clearly-not-thirty-seven-year-old looked caught between laughing and turning around to ask Gus' mother for more chores. Which was about the best case scenario. Gus nodded to the computer, giving both of them an out as the candle continued to burn. "Rowan answered back; it sounds like Abigail's safe."

Shawn's eyes lit up and he moved further into the room so he could read the message on the screen. He visibly relaxed once he reached the end. "That's… that's good."

"Yeah, it is." Gus pulled out a paper plate and plastic utensils. It was better to not freak Shawn out with a real-looking knife when he was already off balance. "Since you're there, want to cut the cake?"

"That sounds way too much like 'cut the cheese'," Shawn retorted immediately. He shook his head, like he'd caught himself off guard, before taking the plate. "Th-Thanks." He looked at the utensils in his hand before adding, "But isn't it bad luck to have birthday cake alone?"

"I don't think so… Placing a hat on a bed or putting your shoes on a table is unlucky, but there's nothing about laptops or cakes. Being the first one to leave in a group of thirteen is supposed to be unlucky too, but there's only two of us here. Broken mirrors, walking under a ladder, saying 'good luck' in a theatre, the number four, nine, thirteen, seventeen, thirty-nine, and forty-three, but only in a Japanese maternity–"

"Gus."

But he had so many more he could add… "You started it."

Shawn rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Fine. It's my first birthday party in six years. Do you want some of my cake?"

"I would love some of your cake," Gus replied as he pulled out a second paper plate. It was best not to assume things. "It's half chocolate, half vanilla. I'll eat whichever you like less."

"A few months ago, I probably would have wished for you to make sense…" Shawn muttered under his breath. It was hard to tell if anyone was supposed to have heard it. He hesitated before closing his eyes, the moment settling around them. The somber silence only lasted a second before he opened his eyes and blew out the flickering candle.

Gus knew better than to ask what he'd wished for. It wasn't his to know.

[Huh, I don't know why I never thought to look up Abigail's birthday… It's early October, apparently. So I guess we'll have to wait a bit for a celebration. Uh… Do you give slaves gifts? Since they don't own things? Did you just do food or…?

She was glad to hear he was doing well, by the way. She says thank you. We haven't really tried anything else out; she's still weirded out about talking more. How do you know when to push something else? And… Don't tell Shawn I asked this, but… How can you tell when they're happy? She's really stressed with all of the changes, and I think they'll be good eventually… But what if it isn't? Slaves are supposed to be happier with routines and boundaries and all of that kind of stuff, and all of this Gus-stuff is basically taking those away. What if I'm just messing everything up?

I think I found a job that needed some data entry done. Not the most glamorous work, but I think it'll be good enough to get me back on my feet. Or at least start to. Every cent counts, right? It definitely means I won't be back… WE won't be back this semester. Maybe next year… or the year after that.

Anyway, enjoy the first day back of school. I've got to dress up and ace an interview. Later!

Rowan.]

It was the first day of classes. The sun was shining, the crowds filled the sidewalks, and Gus' shoulders were oddly light as he walked around backpack-free. Shawn had agreed to try not joining the janitor program this semester, which meant he was now trailing behind Gus, carrying his backpack for him.

Luckily, the two week break from crowds didn't seem to have lessened his tolerance for them, and whenever Gus looked back, he'd see Shawn taking quick, curious glances around. The break had been nice, but it was good to be back at school. To be the only one in charge of what he and Shawn did. Gus took a deep breath of fresh air. It was probably his imagination, but it felt easier to fill his lungs, like he'd been walking around in a pressure suit for two weeks and had just taken it off.

They passed by several buildings before Gus looked back again, and he stopped in the middle of the crowded sidewalk when he saw Shawn walking right behind him with a completely blank slave look on his face. What had happened? He hadn't worn that look in almost two months…

A loud squeal answered his question as Shawn flinched and tried to move even closer to him. A fellow student ran up, her red curls bouncing as she stopped in front of Gus.

Or, rather, stopped in front of Shawn. "Oh my god, Rover! It's totally you! I haven't seen you for so long!"

What the hell? Someone walking by chose that moment to shoulder check Gus, knocking him off balance. He stumbled and stepped out of traffic before he fully took in what was going on.

The girl was petting Shawn, her hand running down the back of his head before trailing down his shirt. "Wow, your owner makes you look fantastic. I kind of forgot how cute you were…" Her hand reached back up to his head. "I bet you're a good boy–"

Gus finally forced his frozen body to move as he smacked her hand away. "Stop touching him!"

Shawn didn't react, his eyes locked on the ground.

"Don't worry, it's ok," the bitch said with a bright smile. "He knows me."

And she tried to reach out to pet Shawn again. The fucking bitch. Gus slapped her hand aside even harder and stepped between them, crowding into her space. "I said. Don't. Touch. Him."

"Wow, ok. So you're the possessive type." She flashed him what was supposed to be a charming smile. It looked like a snake's smile. An ugly snake's smile. "I guess that means I can't take him for a walk for old times' sake?"

It didn't take much to figure out she was one of Shawn's previous owners. It was too bad there were so many witnesses around; Gus couldn't show her how hard he could really slap. "We have a class to go to. Goodbye."

"...Ok…" the girl said, looking caught off-guard by his bluntness.

Good, let her be confused. Gus turned to walk into the Chemistry building… and she turned with him. "Oh my god, are you in Chem 102 too?" Her eyes brightened as she let out a giggle that sounded like a dying horse. "You know, we should sit together! You can tell me all about… what did you name him?"

This wasn't going to work, and Shawn wasn't in the right frame of mind for Gus to make a scene. They needed to get out of there. Gus made a show of thinking hard before saying in a deadpan, "Oh no, I think I grabbed the wrong book for this class. We better go back and grab it."

"Well, it's the first day of class, you probably don't need–"

"Yes. I very much need the right book." Gus didn't bother smiling as he turned away.

It wasn't fast enough to miss her ridiculously dainty finger wave as she called out, "I'll sit near the back!" How did she not understand that he didn't want to be around her?

Gus stalked back out into the cheerful sun and found the first quiet spot he could. Shawn was still in blank-slave-mode, even without anyone else around. Gus was going to yank out every single one of that bitch's curls and shred them in front of her before setting them on fire with a blowtorch. "We don't have to go today; all of the rules will be in the syllabus."

Shawn didn't react, his eyes distant as his head stayed bowed. He needed to get somewhere safe.

"Ok, we'll go home." Gus led his meek slave back to the dorm, closed the door to the world, and took off his leash. And even then, Shawn stayed locked in the past, unmoving as he waited for a command.

He needed a master, but Gus couldn't handle being lumped in with the same sort of people as her right now. He swallowed against his thick throat and chose his words carefully. "It would make me happy if you sit wherever you're comfortable."

It probably would have been better to leave the option to kneel open, but he'd chosen to be selfish. As it was, Shawn still hesitated before mutely walking to his corner and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Gus pulled the green water bottle out of the fridge and set it on the floor next to him. "You're making me happy. If it would be more comfortable, you can take the backpack off or drink some water."

Shawn didn't move to take the bag off, but at least he did pick up the water bottle. Gus sat on the floor near him and waited. His hands itched for something to do, but nearly everything was locked on Shawn's back. Punching the wall didn't seem like a good option either, so instead he just sat, his anger rising as his mind laid out everything he knew about the girl.

Shawn had only mentioned one owner who was female, and she was the right age too. She was the one who had told Shawn he couldn't ever win at games. Her father was the one who'd beaten Shawn just for bleeding on some pillows. Shawn said she'd never punished him herself, but she'd clearly been ok with it happening when Shawn mouthed off to her. She was the one who'd scheduled 'play dates' with Declan, the one Shawn sometimes called 'Missy' when he was locked in a flashback, the one who'd 'let' him sleep at the foot of her bed…

Gus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Shawn needed help; it wasn't the time to go on a one-man crusade.

"She was… my first real master. You know, not a trainer."

Gus' eyes snapped open. He'd already figured that out, but it was Shawn's turn to talk. "Yeah?"

"Technically her dad bought me; I was a birthday present." Shawn's voice turned a shade drier as he elaborated, "A 'companion' slave."

Gus didn't need any help in hearing the air quotes. "A pet."

Shawn flinched but still nodded. "We were both fourteen. No fourteen years old could know what to do with some- with a slave they had complete control over."

Why was he defending her? "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Shawn shook his head and took another drink. "I want to. I had… She had m-me sleep on a pillow… while I was leashed to the foot of her bed." His voice grew stronger as the words kept coming. "She only fed me slave treats. She'd… She'd dress me up or have me do 'tricks' before I could eat. Some days she'd forget about me, some days she liked playing with me, some days I didn't act right and her dad set me straight…" His hands shook as he clutched his water bottle. "That was the best I could have hoped for, before you."

That shouldn't have been the best, it shouldn't have been anywhere close to the best. Anyone who treated another person like that should be locked up and only fed dry treats when they said the right things. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Their own poison. Shawn didn't deserve any of that.

Why was Gus the only one to see it?

The only words he had were angry, and now wasn't the time for that. It must have still shown on his face, though, considering Shawn's tight smile before his eyes dropped back to the ground.

He had to make sure Shawn understood that it wasn't aimed at him. "The way she was treating you; that's wrong. I know it's normal, but that doesn't make it right. And I can't fix that, but I can at least make sure you don't have to deal with it ever again."

"But you can't." A glimmer of panic broke through Shawn's mask. "No one's safe, and I can't stop myself from being bad, and–"

"No, you can't stop yourself from being Shawn, because that's who you are," Gus corrected him. Shawn flinched, but it was something that needed to be said. "And that's who my friend is. I don't like my friends being hurt."

Honestly, Gus wouldn't even want Jimmy to be treated like that, but it seemed less important than what Shawn needed to hear.

"I don't… I don't want to go back."

"Then you won't."

No one was going to make Shawn do something he didn't want to do ever again.

[Rowan,

To answer your last email… I don't know. I'm always wondering if I'm doing things the right way or if I'm just another master telling my slave how I want him to act. In a way, Shawn and I have it easier. He knows what being a person feels like; he knows who he is. Even if that's the part of him that previous masters tried to get rid of. You and Abigail might have a different path ahead of you since she was born a slave. You're going to have to work together to figure that out.

I don't usually know what I'm doing either. But I know what I'm not doing. I'm not treating him like others have. He's not a tool or a pet or something to take my frustration out on. He's a person with his own wants and needs, and he needs my help to meet those because this world is screwed up. I know that probably sounds preachy, but it's what I know. It's the only thing I'm ever sure about.

Someday, Abigail will be able to tell you 'I want this' or 'I don't want that.' You'll know what kind of master you are then, and, if you're serious about wanting her to be happy, you'll also know what you need to do.

Just remember, even if you don't get it all right, you're still getting more right than most. And that matters.

Sincerely,

Gus]