The pizza tasted like nothing. Gus chewed mechanically as he analyzed the odd sensation. The sauce tasted like tomato and spices, the cheese tasted mildly of milk and tang, and the crust was perfectly fine. But as soon as he finished thinking about it, all of the flavors faded away, leaving him with a sauce soaked bite of nothingness in his mouth. It was like his brain had given up on the rest of the day and just refused to process anything else.
Which was probably for the best. He didn't want to process what had happened.
His throat tried to tighten up and he wrenched his thoughts away from where they were trying to go. He and Shawn had talked. He understood where Shawn was coming from. It didn't matter anymore.
What mattered was eating food, finishing their half-played game of chess, maybe watching a movie so Shawn wouldn't think Gus hated him, and then finally going to bed. Then when he woke up, everything would be back to normal. He just had to make it that far.
A knock at their door threw that plan in the trash, and Gus gave serious thought to ignoring it. Three more knocks rang out along with a loud voice. "SBPD."
Shit. Shit shit shit… were they here to take Shawn back? Did he do something wrong? Was he going to have to do more bad things?
Gus sprung to his feet at the same time that Shawn went scrambling for his corner. Gus was almost jealous of him having a safe spot as he straightened his spine and shoved everything down. One more crisis. He could handle one more crisis.
He opened the door to see the officer from earlier on the other side. His focus locked onto the odd mustache that graced the man's face; it almost looked glued on, it was so perfectly trimmed. Which so wasn't important right now, but it was less intimidating than looking at the whole officer. Gus smiled politely at the facial hair and asked, "Can I help you?"
The mustache moved as the man answered, "I'm hoping so, may I come in?"
Gus clamped down on his urge to be as helpful as possible as the mustache faded into the background of the police officer's face. He knew his rights, and he had to protect Shawn. He wouldn't bring such an unknown into their safe area. "Do you have a warrant?"
The officer sighed the sigh of someone who'd heard those exact words hundreds of times. "No, I don't. But this conversation would be better held somewhere more private."
Gus' heart thudded in his chest as he asked, "Am I in trouble?"
Was Shawn in trouble?
"No…" A door cracked open on the other side of the hall, and Gus saw their busybody neighbor peeking through the opening. The officer seemed unaware, or uncaring, of the intrusion as he asked, "How did you know about the arsonist?"
What arsonist? "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."
The officer rolled his eyes. "I already know you weren't involved; it's the first thing I checked. You were taking a quiz in Chemistry at the time of the fire." He paused before begrudgingly adding, "Congratulations on the perfect score."
"Thanks?" Gus wracked his brain, trying to remember what he was supposed to be remembering. "I still don't know what you're talking about."
"You give so many tips to the cops that you don't remember any of them?" the officer asked with a raised eyebrow.
Suddenly Gus remembered the station, Shawn kneeling in the corner, Shawn asking him to pass on a message… It felt like years ago. Everything from Before did. "Oh. That."
"Yes… that. How did you know to check behind the man's ears? Do you have a source?"
Gus' mind raced as he tried to come up with a believable answer. He couldn't bring Shawn into it, but he couldn't lie to a cop either… "I… can't answer that."
He was allowed to say that, right?
"You have to realize how guilty that makes you sound."
"You said you knew I wasn't involved." He should have known better than to pass on the clue. Of course it would come back to bite them in the ass; no good deed and all that. Why did this society even deserve good deeds?
"Sir?" a quiet voice murmured behind him. Gus looked back in surprise to see Shawn give him an intense look. Shawn nodded his head slightly, and Gus shook his back. He wasn't getting him involved. Shawn jerked his chin towards the door, and Gus set his jaw and shook his head again. Shawn did not have the best track record for good decisions right now. Shawn rolled his eyes and grabbed his notepad to write "Let me talk to him?"
How many times could he really say no? A burst of anger had Gus stepping back into the role of a master as he looked through the doorway again. It was time for Shawn to deal with his own mess. "Sorry about that, you can come in."
The officer blinked in surprise before walking to the middle of the room. "Thank you."
Gus stayed by the door, keeping his face impassive. He had to be a master now… but he couldn't call Shawn 'slave'. Not after the conversation they'd just had. He sidestepped the whole issue with a simple order. "Tell him."
Shawn's voice was a monotone as he kept his head down like a good slave. "I saw the ash when I was being brought into the precinct, sir."
"You saw it?" the officer asked, staring at Shawn like he'd just noticed him.
"Yes, sir."
The officer fell mute, his expression contemplative before he looked back at Gus. "It's breaking the law to lie to a policeman. You don't have to pin it on him."
It was Gus' turn to stare as he answered, "I'm not. I didn't even see the man. He did."
"And he told you about it?" the officer asked skeptically.
He was using 'he'... That had to mean something. Gus started talking, even as he realized he'd normally be smart enough to not take this gamble. "Slaves see more than we think. People could learn a lot if they listened more."
The officer stared him down before a scowl crossed his face. "Well that's a load of bull crotch."
"Because he's just a slave?" Dangit, he had to stop talking back to a cop…
"Because a slave couldn't see something that a cop missed." The officer's face stayed dark in anger.
"The two ladies were being held for petty theft, sir," Shawn said quickly, his eyes still locked on the ground. "The bald guy was there for assault, the receptionist is currently communing with her dead grandmother, and the sandy-haired officer is getting ready to quit. It's not quite like the movies make it look…"
"Excuse me?"
"You guys found the stash in their bras, but did you check blondie's boots, sir?"
Gus should have never let the officer in; Shawn was going to get himself taken away. Except the officer was staring and no longer looked like he was about to arrest someone.
"How did you know all of that?"
"I saw it, sir. Bruised knuckles, dream catchers, the way the officer was fidgeting at his desk…"
"But… That's not…" An internal battle played across the officer's face before he clenched his jaw and turned back towards Gus. "Name your source. Now."
"I don't have one."
A crackly voice interrupted them from the officer's radio. "We have a 10-57 at Steck Circle. Calling all nearby officers…"
"Damnit," the officer cursed under his breath. He pointed at Gus, even as he grabbed the handset on his shoulder. "You had better not be lying…" He spoke into the speaker as he jogged out of the room, "This is officer Lassiter, just off of UCEN road…"
Gus closed the door behind the man with the distinct feeling that they'd be seeing him again.
Gus couldn't fall asleep that night. He'd had a plan; he'd just had to get to bedtime, and then everything would be better. After the officer had left, they'd done just that. Playing games, watching movies, and generally being very quiet and awkward until it was time to go to sleep. He'd done it; he'd survived the day from hell.
Except he wasn't being allowed to reap his reward. With every breath in the dark room, he heard the hit of a cane against flesh. He clenched his hands as he remembered vibrations running through them. He buried his nose in his pillow to block out the echoed smells of old bleach and fresh sweat.
Flashes of emotions rushed through him with every toss and turn. Anger, fear, sorrow, guilt, and then anger again. He'd managed to lock them out during the day, but it was too quiet, too distraction-less for him to keep them away during the night.
He rolled over again, trying to convince himself that he only had to find the right position. Even as cold sweat broke out on his palms and a flush ran through the back of his neck. He was fine. They'd talked about it and it was fine. He'd had to hurt Shawn, because Shawn had chosen to run, because… because… His stomach clenched as he remembered Shawn tensing after the cane didn't go where it was supposed to. He'd done that. Shawn had made him do that.
Anger came next as he thought about leaving the remote on the desk, Shawn's insistence that he'd be fine alone, the damn note that made everything better and worse at the same time. But he couldn't be angry; Shawn had explained why he couldn't tell. It even made sense. There wasn't any point to the anger. Shawn had even told him his last name. That was one of the greatest signs of trust there was…
More adrenaline rushed through his body, and Gus gave up on sleep. He rolled onto his back and traced the faint shadows that the nightlight cast on the ceiling.
They were ok, right? He'd had to hurt Shawn, and Shawn said he didn't blame him, so why was he also scared? Why was he terrified that they wouldn't be able to go back to being friends again? Friends trusted each other. But Shawn had broken his trust…
He understood why Shawn had done it, but it still hurt. It hurt that it hadn't been Gus' choice, but he'd still been forced to choose. He'd had to choose to raise that cane and bring it down fifteen times.
A soundless chuckle breathed through his lips. Life had a nasty sense of humor; he, a master, was complaining about not having a choice.
Another breath gasped out on the other side of the room, and Gus froze. Shawn started moving around. It had to be difficult for him too; how could it not with the memories of every other master beating him? But how was it fair that Gus was always the one who had to push down his own hurt to help with Shawn's?
God have mercy, that probably made him a terrible person. He had to be better than that; he had to prove he wasn't like other masters. It was how he could move on.
He slowly sat up as he shoved his emotions down and made his voice gentle. "Shawn, it's ok. You're safe."
Shawn flinched before freezing, his eyes reflecting the pineapple light as he frantically looked around.
"You have water next to you, you can drink it."
It was fine; Shawn had more going on anyways. He could be there for him.
Shawn's breath hitched as he breathed in and held it. He let it out slowly as his shoulders relaxed.
"You're doing good. You're making.." The master phrase was on the tip of his tongue, but Gus couldn't say it. "... you're safe. You're doing good."
Shawn's wandering eyes found Gus' and they locked gazes. A jolt of anger was quickly followed by a rush of shame. Gus breathed along with Shawn's next breath. They were fine; he just needed more time.
"It would help if I knew you were here."
"Dorm room, you're in college, I tried to run…" Shawn breathed out as he tentatively rolled his shoulders. "You patched me up. I'm safe."
Too many emotions tried to exist at the same time, and Gus fought the heat flushing his face as his eyes welled up. Now wasn't the time. "Do… Do you need more medicine?"
"No thank you." Shawn closed his eyes and took several more breaths. Gus mirrored him, imagining all of the dark and painful emotions leaving his body on the exhales. He broke the silence once he was back under control. "Need to talk about it?"
"No," Shawn answered immediately. "Just… thank you."
Gus hadn't done anything to be worthy of thanks. "You're welcome."
Neither of them slept well that night.
Gus yawned as he packed his bag, the long night still weighing on him as he prepared for classes. He didn't feel particularly like learning, but it sounded better than being stuck in the stifling dorm room for a moment longer. The fact that it got him away from Shawn for a while… he couldn't say that was a bonus, but he also hadn't fought when Shawn had volunteered to stay.
A jolt of adrenaline ran through him, tingling down his arms and settling in his chest. Shawn had volunteered to stay yesterday too… Gus patted his pocket, not caring that Shawn could see. The remote was still safe with him, and he'd already checked the map. All of his classes today were within a half mile radius of the dorm. Even if Shawn thought he could run again, he wouldn't get far.
He couldn't risk Shawn taking their lives into his hands again. He'd take the lump of guilt in his stomach if it meant keeping Shawn safe from himself.
He'd also take the flash of anger at Shawn for breaking the trust that had made it so easy to leave the remote behind in the past. "I'm ready to go. You're sure you don't want to come with?"
Shawn nodded, still in his button-up pajamas after Gus had re-treated his back that morning. "It's probably better for me to stay here."
He was right; it was better. At least for today. The map of the campus popped into Gus' head, and he didn't have the mental fortitude to stop himself from asking, "Do I need to order you to stay in the building?"
Shawn fiddled with one of his buttons as he avoided Gus' eyes. "I won't run again. But I understand if you need to."
The fearful part of Gus wanted to say it, to make sure nothing bad ever happened again. But he couldn't make the words form. Gus couldn't try to order him into submission like every other master.
He reached for the doorknob and just said, "I'll see you at dinner."
Shawn looked at him gratefully. It was too much. Gus turned around and escaped the room.
The morning, predictably, lasted forever. Professors droned about things that didn't matter, students chattered meaninglessly, and words slowly made their way into his notebooks as he watched his hand move the pen. How could it have just been yesterday when he'd thought everything was fine? When this had been the most important thing to worry about.
That wasn't exactly true, he'd been worrying about Shawn for months, but not this kind of worry. He'd been worried about what he could do for Shawn, not what Shawn could do for himself. Which… didn't actually sound that good now that he'd thought it. And it wasn't completely right. He'd thought about ways for Shawn to help himself, or for him to adjust to their new life. But had he really thought of Shawn as a person who had his own thoughts and plans?
He wanted to say yes… It's what he'd been pushing for after all. But had he actually acted that out or had he still been in the mindset of slaves having no autonomy? Maybe it was a good thing Shawn ran?
The feeling of a wood rod jolting his hands had him quickly retreating from that thought. It hadn't been good. Not at all.
The bell rang, and Gus gratefully put his pen down as he glanced over his halfhearted notes. They didn't seem terrible, but he probably needed to read the book and fill in the gaps. He had to be able to do something right.
A flood of emotions tried to overtake him as he joined the crowd leaving the lecture hall. He took several deep breaths as a familiar tightness clamped around his chest. He was not going to have an anxiety attack in front of everyone. He'd gotten through yesterday without one, he could do it today too. He just had to keep moving forward.
It was Shawn's fault he was like this.
Gus growled under his breath as he stepped out of the building and bright sunshine tried to blind him. Those kinds of thoughts were not helping. Luckily, he didn't have far to go for his next class. Unluckily, his next class was chem lab.
A bright giggle rang out from a gaggle of girls, and Gus gritted his teeth as he ignored them walked to his station. Somehow everyone seemed to love Jessica, the girl who had once owned Shawn and was now his lab partner. They didn't see her for the snake she was.
So naturally, she'd made it her mission to make him like her. "Hi, Gus!"
"Hello." Gus avoided eye contact as he pulled out his lab notebook. Shawn had asked him not to make any scenes, but that didn't mean he had to be friendly.
"How has your week been?"
It'd been the worst week of his life. "It's been fine."
There was a beat as she waited for him to ask it back. He didn't oblige.
She didn't stay quiet for long. "So I saw your comics in your bag… Do you have a favorite?"
Why did she care? "Nope."
He already had friends to talk about comics with. Although the idea of talking with Shawn about anything so trivial made everything inside him twist and writhe. Why was he like that?
"Oh…" Jessica sounded disappointed, like she'd thought she'd finally found the holy grail only to discover it was a normal cup. "Well me and some friends walked by a comic shop last weekend. I could buy you some if you did have a favorite…"
Gus just grunted in reply. She was always offering to buy things for other people. Judging by how many of her friends took her up on it, it was working out well for her. But he wouldn't be bought. Not when she'd bought Shawn.
Had Shawn ran from her too?
The question took over his brain, burying everything else as he tried to imagine how it went down, how he'd been caught, how Jessica would have reacted. She treated Shawn wrong, but she seemed to care in a weird twisted way. Had she been hurt, angry, and heartbroken too?
He shouldn't ask, he couldn't. He didn't pry into Shawn's past. He'd even decided to not look him up now that he knew his full name. He was better than that.
Shawn hadn't been better than that… A spike of anger overrode all sense as he asked, "Did Shawn ever run away from you?"
As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. What was wrong with him? Jessica beamed at the fact that he was willingly talking to her.
"He actually did! Why, did he run from you too?"
"I just read something on the internet about a slave trying to run and knew he'd tried in the past," Gus quickly lied.
"He actually jumped off of the roof, if you can believe it…" Jessica stuck her bottom lip out into an exaggerated pout. "Daddy… Dad wouldn't let me see him for days afterwards."
"Why not?" Gus asked carefully.
"Oh, well, you know how it is…" Jessica washed her hands uncaring as she moved on. "I still don't understand why he did it though. I treated him nice; we had fun… Was it really that bad?"
Oh god, was that how he sounded? This had been a terrible idea. "What happened when he came back?"
"Well, he didn't really feel very good, you know? But he apologized, so that was nice." She giggled, and Gus had to suppress the urge to yank out her hair. "It's funny, but he was actually super well behaved after that. We had a lot of fun… Maybe he had to try, you know? Just to know it wouldn't work."
"Then why did you sell him?" Gus' curiosity had to ask.
Jessica shrugged. "I don't know, I guess he got kind of boring after a while. Dad said there wasn't any point in keeping him if I wasn't playing with him anymore." She looked down at the lab book she'd pulled out of her bag. "Oh no… More titrations again."
The bitch. She didn't even care. The anger finally felt right, but before Gus could answer, the TA started the class. Somehow, their experiment ended up all over Jessica's bag again.
The day was drawing to a close, and Gus was wrung out. His backpack dug into his shoulders as he plodded along, each footstep feeling like he was lifting the weight of the world. He couldn't face Shawn. Not like this. He didn't have the strength to act like everything was ok when clearly everything wasn't.
The very fact that he'd asked Jessica about Shawn said that he wasn't in the right headspace to make good decisions. Everything was too much, he couldn't handle it on his own.
His head ached along with his heart as he turned away from the dorms and found a dark corner to rest in. He had to be ok. It wasn't even a choice; it was a fact. Shawn relied on him.
He just really really needed someone he could rely on too…
A small gasp left his lips as he realized he did have someone he could talk to. And she would yell his ear off if she'd learned he hadn't reached out when he'd needed to. Before he could talk himself out of it, Gus pulled out his phone and sent out a quick text.
Joy called him back less than a minute later. "Hey, Gus. What's going on?"
Just the sound of a friendly voice was enough to make him tear up. "Hey. Uh… So, something happened yesterday…" He told her everything, from Shawn acting surprisingly confident in the dorm to the phone call to the visit to the station. His voice tightened as he gave her the bare details of the punishment, and he barely managed to get the words out as he finished the story.
His sister's voice was just as thick with emotion as she said, "Oh, Burton…"
It was the pebble that broke the dam. Sobs wracked his frame as tears ran down his face, and he clung to his phone like a lifeline. Joy continued to say small words of encouragement as she let him ride out the storm.
It was several minutes before he could speak again. "I don't… I don't know what to do. I don't even know what to think. I actually understand why he did it, but I keep getting so angry at him."
"Well of course you're angry!" Joy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He hurt you!"
His breath hitched in his throat as he choked back another sob. She was right; Shawn had hurt him. "But he didn't mean to, and I hurt him too…"
"I don't care." Joy spoke slowly with an intensity that would make boulders quake. "I don't care who he is or what happened to him, he still hurt you. And that's a fact."
He hated how right her words felt. "I shouldn't be angry though."
"Why not? Why aren't you allowed to be angry?"
"Because I'm a master," popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Joy let the words settle between them before she asked calmly, "And what does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with everything!" All of the emotions pushed him forward, and he paced as he let them all out. "I have choices, he doesn't. I'm allowed to do things, I'm allowed to exist, I have all of the control…"
"You didn't have control this time…"
Gus sobbed, even as his feet carried him faster. "That doesn't matter. He never has control. I can't complain about that when he has to deal with it every single day. I can't be angry at him for trying to be free, I can't be angry that he found a choice and took it." His free hand clenched into a fist as he jerked around and paced in the other direction. "He took it, and it nearly destroyed both of us. How is that fair? How can we move past that? How can we still be friends after–" He stopped as he finally heard his own words. "I just… I don't know what to do."
His shoulders trembled as guilt added to the weight pulling him down. What could his sister possibly say to all of that?
Her question surprised him. "Do you want to stay angry?"
"No," he answered without even having to think. It was a relief to know it was the truth.
"Do you still want to be friends with him?"
It was another simple answer. "Yes."
"Then you know the rule. You can get as angry as you like…"
"As long as you put in just as much energy afterwards to fixing it," Gus finished the family phrase. A sense of calm draped over him as he acknowledged what those words meant. It was ok that he was angry. It didn't have to be the end.
"You want my opinion on all of that?" Joy asked.
She'd been helpful so far… "Yeah."
"You said he made a choice… But how much choice did he actually have?"
"He could have chosen not to run…" But really, could he have? He was Shawn. He'd stabbed people, for Christ's sake. "He could have chosen…" What could he have actually chosen? To not be caught? For Gus to not be called? To be killed? Gus swallowed thickly as he realized the choice he wished Shawn had made. "He could have chosen to tell me."
"Why didn't he?"
She was going to be a great lawyer. "Because he was protecting me."
"What would you have done, in his position?"
Gus couldn't help his huffed laugh. "Shawn asked the same thing… And I don't know."
Joy's voice was knowing when she answered, "I think you do."
"Maybe…" Gus took a deep breath and nodded to himself. He knew what he had to do. "Thanks, sis."
"Anytime. Good luck."
"Thanks."
Oddly, he didn't think he'd need luck.
Shawn was still in their room, right where he was supposed to be. Gus hated the feeling of relief that rushed through him at the sight. Then he stopped and let himself acknowledge it before moving into the room.
Shawn could clearly tell something was about to happen, and he stood with trepidation, his hands clasped in front of him. Gus closed the door and took an extra second to put his thoughts into order. If he didn't say anything now, then he wouldn't say anything at all. "First off, you're safe and you're not in trouble."
Shawn's shoulders visibly relaxed, and Gus had to fight through a brief burst of insecurity to keep going. "But I've got things that I need to say. I'm mad at you."
Shawn expectedly flinched at his master's words, but he didn't look away. Gus kept his eyes locked on his as he continued, "You made a choice that affected both of us and didn't include me. I get that you were trying to protect me, but that still hurts. It hurts that you didn't trust me to be able to help, and it hurts that you were willing to leave me."
Shawn opened his mouth to answer before stopping himself. Gus gave him another moment before admitting, "But I also know that you didn't have a choice. Everything about being a slave is wrong, and you were trying to find something better. That's who you are. I've been pushing you to be true to yourself, so I can't hold it against you when you do things that follow that." This was the hardest part. But it was the whole point of the conversation. Gus took a second to acknowledge the words before he said them, "So… I forgive you. I don't want to be mad anymore."
Shawn's jaw dropped and Gus had a brief moment of clarity; how rare was it for a master to forgive his slave? But he was a weird master, and he embraced that fact. "You don't have to say anything, I know this kind of thing is hard. Just… I needed you to know. For both of us."
It had helped himself, if nothing else. The hurt was still there, but it was tempered by understanding. It was just another crappy thing that had happened because of slavery; it wasn't something that Shawn would have chosen to do if he'd been completely free.
"My mom and dad got divorced." Judging by the look on Shawn's face, the words surprised him just as much as Gus. He recovered quickly and kept going, "They fought, a lot. They fought about me a lot. It was obvious Dad still loved her…" he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find the right words.
Gus waited; Shawn had let him have his say. Now it was his turn.
"I tried to apologize for it once. If I'd been… different, maybe they wouldn't have fought as much."
Gus' heart squeezed and he kept his lips clamped over the reassurances he wanted to say.
"Dad didn't like that." Shawn huffed a humorous laugh. "He gave me a whole lecture about it. But at the end, he said something. He said that he couldn't forgive me… because I hadn't done anything that needed forgiven." He gave an awkward shrug and met Gus' eyes. "Thank you for what you said… but I can't say it back. You didn't do anything that needs forgiven."
Gus had thought he was all cried out, but apparently he was wrong as a pressure built behind his eyes. He blinked the tears back as he nodded. "Thanks… but I'm still sorry. For everything."
"Me too." Shawn looked down as his foot nudged a small pile of newspapers he'd been looking at. "Want to hear about some crimes?"
Their life was so weird. Gus couldn't stop his smile as he stepped forward in interest. "Sure. How many do you have figured out?"
"Two of them," Shawn said confidently. "And I think I have leads on another one."
"Just do me a favor and don't tell the cops this time. I can't handle more drama."
Shawn carefully bent down to pick up the papers and started shuffling through them. "If they can't figure these ones out, then this whole city is in trouble." He handed over a page with a small picture and an article about a non-fatal stabbing. "What do you see?"
"Someone with a face that says 'just stab me now'," Gus said immediately as he took in the picture of a smarmy looking man.
"I think the stabbing is a coverup." Shawn launched into his explanation, pointing out the clues he saw that included the man's terrible hair. Gus followed along, pointing out a few things of his own before Shawn had completely convinced him of his theory.
The tension in the room had completely leached away by the time they went downstairs for dinner. Gus still wasn't looking forward to trying to sleep, and he could tell they were both being extra careful about everything they did and said. But he didn't feel like he was walking around with a gaping wound anymore, and the urge to punch everything in sight had left with the tension.
It was clear that it was going to take a while to fully come to terms with what had happened, and there were some things that had to change so it wouldn't happen again. But it was tentative hope that Gus felt as he ate his fried chicken and enjoyed its flavor. He and Shawn were still friends.
They'd get through it together.