A/N: A character who struggles with spelling will be writing a few notes through the story. For characterization, I wrote the note as accurate to the character as possible using spellings and sounding-out-logic I've seen in new writers/readers. However, for accessibility, I've also included a 'translation' with proper spelling and punctuation at the end. (I wish FFN had fancier formatting so I could embed it, but it's what we've got.)

[Hey Gus,

It was great hearing from you. We were starting to get worried. I'm guessing you were being vague on purpose, so just let me know if there's anything we can do to help.

It's actually been a really stressful week for us too, what with my new job and some… drama… this weekend. Nothing super serious, just family stuff. Which, I guess is always serious since it could affect my living situation… Let's just say I'll be glad when I get my first check and I can pay my cousin back for everything she's been going through for us.

Your idea about Shawn and Abigail emailing each other actually came at the perfect time. Abigail's been struggling a bit with me being out of the house so much. She'll be good and do whatever I suggest when I'm gone, but it's kind of obvious that it's stressing her out. And then I learned that she doesn't know how to read when I offered her some comic books. Which was an eventful conversation. To put it nicely.

Anyways, all that to say that I've found some lessons and she's been spending some of my work time learning how to read. She already knew some of it, like the letters and sounds. She didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't press. But I think her mom might have taught her what she could. And she's picking up on the rest pretty fast. But I was scared to have her practice with me because of the whole 'slaves have to be perfect OR ELSE' that we keep running up against. So having her practice with Shawn would be perfect. Or, you know, not perfect. Gah, you know what I mean.

I tried to get her to come up with her own name for the email address, but she isn't there yet. So I asked her what her favorite animal is and used the same naming scheme as mine. Go ahead and set Shawn up and send an email to browneyedsparrow at hotmail.

Um, this is kinda awkward, but I was wondering if you wanted to do the same thing? Like… have an email chain that's just for us? I dunno, there's just some things I'd like to talk through without worrying about what Abigail would think.

I'm glad that the dance rooms were a good thing. You always seem like you're worrying about three to five different things at once. It'd probably be good to have a hobby just for yourself. It's important to get away from that kind of stress from time to time.

Whelp, this email is officially too long. Guess I missed talking to you. Hope things are still going good.

Ttyl,

Rowan]

Shawn woke up to a new world. His first breath of consciousness was filled with memories of solving the case. The second breath was filled with speculations on when they would be called next. He turned off his alarm with a smile, and happy thoughts followed him through his morning routine.

Yesterday had been nearly perfect. Sure, there'd been a moment when he'd thought everything had been for nothing, and he'd accidentally made Gus have a panic attack, and he'd thought that he'd ruined everything … But other than that, it'd been perfect.

Gus rolled over with a sleepy groan and Shawn's smile dimmed. Yesterday hadn't been perfect for Gus though, and it had followed him into his sleep. Which definitely wasn't going to help him focus on his Monday classes…

Shawn made his movements even quieter as he gathered his shower supplies and snuck out of the room. He'd hoped that Gus would see how solving cases could be good for both of them. He'd admitted that he had fun in the library, at least, and the check would probably help too. But it definitely wasn't enough.

If Gus was even freaking out over what happened to murderers… How long would he last before he took the crime solving opportunity away?

It was clear that Shawn had to do something about that. His good mood returned as he reached the showers without any incident. The drunk jock had found him a few times since the new semester had started. It hadn't ever been bad enough to bring up to Gus, just some insults or getting shoved into the wall. Without Abigail there, it had been easy to follow the now-unspoken order of 'be safe'. But it was nice to not have to deal with it this morning.

Maybe that's what Gus needed; an order to catch him when his worries got too loud. Shawn snorted as he took his pajamas off. The only thing weirder than a slave thinking about giving his master orders was the fact that his master might actually listen.

He took his shower on autopilot as his thoughts alternated between how to help Gus and how good it had been to solve the case. They were basically two sides of the same coin. If Gus was less stressed, then the cases would be even funner. And if the cases were funner, then Gus wouldn't be as stressed. Shawn just had to figure out how to get the ball rolling.

Gus was up and reading his laptop by the time Shawn returned to the room. The gurgling sounds of the coffee pot sent a surprising jab of resentment through Shawn's chest. There were only so many ways he could actually help Gus; making the coffee every morning was supposed to be one of them.

"Rowan finally wrote back," Gus said, unaware of the fact that he'd broken one of the most important rules.

Shawn shoved the feeling down and put his shower supplies away. "Did they say anything good?"

"They agreed with letting you email Abigail."

The day was getting better and better.

Gus handed the laptop over and Shawn took it without hesitation. In the time it took for him to read through the email, Gus had grabbed his own shower supplies.

"So what do you think?" Gus asked.

"Can I email her now?"

Shawn registered his request a split second too late. He wasn't allowed to use the laptop, right? But he didn't want to take it back. It had been Gus' idea to let him use the email, so surely that meant he'd have to use the laptop too.

"Uh, yeah. I guess. I was actually wondering about the other thing. You know, me and Rowan emailing each other."

"Why are you asking me?" Masters could do whatever they wanted.

"I… don't know, exactly." Gus hesitated, looking guilty for some reason. "I guess, I know that whenever you've had a master try to hide something from you, you usually found a way to figure out what it was. Which I get, a master hiding something probably meant it was bad. I just… I don't want to be like that."

"There were lots of things my masters did that I didn't know about. A slave's whole life is its master; a master's whole life barely has the slave in it." Though that probably didn't help with Gus' fear about him snooping. "Would it help if I promised not to read it?"

Gus snorted. "Like you could even stop yourself if you tried."

Shawn wanted to say yes, that Gus could trust him. But he'd lost the right to ask that when he'd betrayed Gus just a few weeks ago. He had to earn that right back. "Emails need passwords, right? You can log out before you let me use your laptop." A string of letters and numbers ran through Shawn's mind. "Unrelated: You should probably change your password."

Gus blinked at him in shock, and the coffee pot chose that moment to let out a gurgled hiss as a reminder that at least one of them wasn't awake enough for this kind of conversation. "...Ok." Gus carefully approached Shawn and reached over to click on the laptop trackpad. Soon a new webpage was open with an empty form to fill out. "I think all you really need is an email address and password. You can fill out whatever else you want. And, uh… You know I don't believe all of that master-slave stuff you just said, right?"

"You never do." Maybe that was why Gus always had trouble with slave things. He was trying to make his whole life about his slave when that wasn't his role.

Shawn instinctively tried to make himself smaller to hide from the wrong thoughts. He quickly caught himself and relaxed before Gus could worry. Luckily, Gus had already turned away and hadn't noticed anything.

Unluckily, the feeling stuck around even after Gus had left. It was just a simple fact about him; he didn't act like he was supposed to. Why was that bothering Shawn now?

The answer still hadn't come to him by the time he finished setting up the new email account. His account. Gus could ask him for the password at any time; it was his right. But Shawn knew he wouldn't. This was his, just like the basket was his.

"A slave doesn't own its name, its body, or its person. It belongs to its owner. Completely."

Why did breaking this slave rule feel less wrong than the one Gus broke?

Shawn focused on the cursor blinking in the empty email box. He'd have plenty of time to think about questions that didn't have answers once Gus went to class. For now, he had a message to write. He had so much to say.

Five minutes later, Shawn was still staring at the blank page.

What did he want to say?

[Hi Abigail

How are you? I'm safe. I'm not doing the cleaning work anymore, I found another way too be useful. A good way.

Gus won't read this. He wasn't lying.

Someone farted in class last week. It was so loud, the teacher didn't no what to do. Everyone was laughing and he just kept trying to talk over them. I think you would have laughed.

I miss you. Stay safe.

Shawn]

The morning passed by quietly. Gus had offered to take Shawn with, just like he always did. But when Gus was stressed it was better for him to have some alone time.

So instead, Shawn spent all of fifteen minutes cleaning the room and then sat staring out of the window for almost an hour. He wanted to be out there. He wanted to sneak into the police precinct and find more cases. He wanted to explore the dark crevices of the world to find crimes to report. He wanted to run and be seen and to tell everyone he met that he'd just solved a murder.

Sure, he'd be arrested nearly immediately. But it'd almost be worth it…

Shawn sighed and looked around the room again with a critical gaze. Even though his small impulsive voice hadn't been beat out of him, slavery had taught him the value of realism. The only reason he'd been able to solve a crime was because Gus had let him. Right now, Gus was far too stressed to be able to do any more of it. It was only logical that he needed to help Gus get less stressed.

As luck would have it, he also wanted Gus to be less stressed because he deserved to be less stressed. It was nice when multiple wants aligned.

"A slave doesn't want things; it's grateful for what it's given."

Shawn shook his head in annoyance. The memories of his training were louder than usual today. And they certainly weren't helping anything.

Gus was clearly stressed by his homework load. That was a good place to start. Shawn had already helped with that once; he could keep helping like that. He could also make sure Gus went back to the dance room again. Rowan was right; it had clearly been good for him.

But what about the slave stuff? Anytime Gus thought about it, he got tense. But it was also impossible for him to not think about it when he insisted on being friends with his slave. How could Shawn possibly help with that?

"Masters lead; slaves follow."

Pushing Gus to be more of a master was certainly an idea. He'd have less things to worry about that way… Besides the fact that he'd absolutely hate it and wouldn't ever willingly agree to it in his life.

Shawn still hadn't come up with an answer by the time Gus came back for lunch. And, unfortunately, his time away hadn't seemed to help his stress. Gus hesitated after closing the door, his hand buried in his pocket where the remote was. Shawn tensed, waiting for the shock.

Which was ridiculous, because Gus wasn't going to shock him, because Gus was Gus.

This was why Shawn hated when his memories were loud.

"Sorry, sorry," Gus muttered as he quickly took out the remote and held it so his fingers weren't anywhere near the punishment button. A code blinked on the small screen on top. "Uh, this buzzed an hour ago… Crap. It didn't shock you, did it?"

"No," Shawn rushed to reassure him. The idea was to make him less stressed. "What does it mean?"

"It apparently means your cuffs need their batteries changed."

Had it been a year already? Though that made sense… Last year he'd served at his master's Valentine's Day party afterwards. He'd been forced– He hadn't been polite enough and had been punished with having to wear the gag for three days straight.

"Shawn."

Shawn flinched before he remembered he could still speak. "Sorry. It's not bad. Promise."

"Really…" Gus said, sounding skeptical. "Because you were totally just remembering a good memory..."

"The batteries are just hard to get to, so it's better to bring it… bring the cuffs to the store."

His trainer had done it at his home. He'd locked Shawn in the closet all day and night, tied up so tight that he'd nearly begged for the cuffs to be put back on. Even with the chains attached, he'd been so grateful to actually be allowed to move.

"So I really can't just do it myself?"

"There's specialty tools. I don't think they let just anyone buy them." The past pulled at him, and Shawn focused on the present. There were eighteen ceiling tiles in the room, seven buttons on Gus' shirt, and Gus' shoulders were weighed down with a bag containing two textbooks, three notebooks, one laptop, and five finely sharpened pencils. He wasn't there. "Most slave depots can take care of it."

"I was scared you were going to say that…" Gus sighed and slowly moved forward until he could put the remote down on his bed. "I swore I was never going to set foot in one of those."

Shawn hated how his shoulders relaxed once his master stepped away from his remote. "Sorry…"

"It's not your fault." Gus crossed his arms and glared at the offending object. "The internet said it usually takes two or three days after the first warning before things get bad. We could do it tomorrow afternoon…" He glanced over then did a double take.

Shawn belatedly remembered to put a smile on his face. "Yes, that works."

His mistress' father had paid for a full examination. He'd been ordered to strip before being restrained to a cold metal table. He could still feel the specialist's hands as they poked and prodded every inch of him under the blindingly bright light.

"...We can go tonight," Gus said, using his gentle voice.

The dorm room's tiles were cool under Shawn's feet, the cotton shirt was soft against his arms, the belt around his hips squeezed with a steady pressure. "You have a paper to write tonight; it's fine."

"I'd rather get a lower grade than make you deal with the nightmares for more nights than necessary..."

Shawn winced; he'd really really wanted to make Gus' life simpler. But the memory of his beating for wasting his master's time was stretching down his legs and arms even as he stood safely next to his sleeping bag. "I'll be ok. Honest. They just put temporary cuffs on and leash the slave to the wall."

Gus wouldn't ask for anything extra. He wouldn't do anything extra.

Gus' voice was dry as he said, "Well, this is my daily reminder that our world sucks… And we'll go tonight."

Shawn could argue more; it was safe. But he didn't really want to. And slaves didn't argue with their masters anyways.

Shawn just nodded and stared at Gus' feet. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. We'll go right after my last class. You don't have to answer right now, but you're welcome to come with me this afternoon."

"Ok." He'd come with. It wasn't safe to be alone with his thoughts.

"Want to check if Abigail answered back before we go to lunch?" Gus asked, clearly knowing Shawn needed more time before going into public.

Shawn didn't deserve him. "Yes, please."

Shawn stayed standing at a loose attention until Gus told him the laptop was ready. Confusion, frustration, and fear cycled through his mind as he sat down and logged in. Why had everything been so much simpler yesterday?

[Shawn

hi im gud and safe

i am the onlee won hoo wil see this

i dont no wat im doeen i dont no how to be useful

how did yu find sumtheng

lerning how to rite beter is gud but i dont no how that wil help

yor storee mayd me laf thank yu

the dog ozy chases his tal a lot its funee wen he aksuale kaches it

i miss yu too

Abigail]

Shawn thought about Abigail's note as he knelt through three hours of lectures and discussion sessions. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed talking with her directly. But it also came with the cost of knowing that she was struggling and there was barely anything he could do to help.

"A slave doesn't think; it does what it's told."

When the feelings and memories became too much, Shawn focused on reading the people in the class. Drowning everything out with details and deductions. He didn't need to worry about what would happen that evening, or what he would tell Abigail, or how he could help Gus. He just needed to figure out which student had gotten drunk last night, or had copied someone else's homework, or had adopted an unauthorized cat.

It became harder to hide in the present once they left Gus' classes and took a bus to the edge of campus.

"We can walk around the block if you need more time," Gus offered quietly in front of a local slave depot.

"No, thank you, sir." There wasn't any point to putting it off for longer. An extra ten minutes in the chilly air wouldn't change facts.

A slave was quiet. A slave didn't fidget. A slave did as it was told. A slave was a tool. A slave was useful. A slave wasn't to be seen or heard… Shawn was a slave.

But the thoughts were dissonant, nothing like the crystal clear facts they were supposed to be. They were almost as wrong as Gus doing the slave's share of the work.

Warm air blew through Shawn's hair as they stepped through the door. What should have been a comforting change was instead a suffocating weight. Sweat prickled on Shawn's shoulders as he followed his master. He was a slave; that was a fact. People didn't have collars around their necks. People didn't need their batteries changed.

Slaves didn't argue with their masters or catch a murderer or have fake visions either…

"Hello there," an overly cheerful voice said. "I'm Guru Allen and am happy to help you today. We currently have a sale on our discipline rooms; buy twenty minutes, get twenty free. For a small additional fee, you can also choose to demo up to three different tools we have in store. Our student discount stacks with this sale, which is really quite the bang for your–"

"I'm just here to get his cuffs fixed," Gus interrupted, his voice completely flat. "Annual battery change."

"Of course! That's another regular maintenance that we offer. Right this way." Shawn kept his eyes on Gus' feet as they were led to a desk. There was a quick round of keyboard clacks before Guru Allen said, "I believe we should have enough time to take care of that today. May I have the remote?"

"Why?" Gus asked suspiciously.

"We have a neat little scanner here. It'll pull up his records so we can see if any other maintenance needs to be done as well as linking him with our network."

"You won't shock him?"

"Of course not," Allen said, his voice never straying from his aggressively cheerful tone. "He's not our property, after all."

A tense silence followed, and Shawn quickly ran through several ways they could hide the body in case Gus snapped.

Gus sounded as though he was thinking along the same lines as he gritted out, "Just make it quick."

A friendly beep followed his words along with more keyboard sounds. Shawn tensed, waiting for the moment when he wouldn't be able to move without orders.

"It looks like he's due for a few shots as well as a physical exam. Would you like to take care of those today as well?"

The memories slammed into Shawn.

"Wait, what?!"

Needles, lights, hands. His mouth forced open, his parts measured, his flaws recorded. A hand petting his hair as a needle dug for a vein.

"It looks as though his voluntary maintenance hasn't been kept up consistently. That's not uncommon, but as your all inclusive spot for your slave's needs–"

Gus wouldn't do it. Gus was good.

"No, not that. You sell supplies, why the hell are you talking about shots and exams?"

"Every guru in this company is fully certified for any slave maintenance needs. If you'd rather do a more extensive exam, we do participate in a program that places slaves with pre-med students who are looking for more hands-on training."

"What is wrong with you people?!"

Shawn squeezed his eyes closed and forced himself to take a deeper breath. Gus was angry at the world. Things were how they should be. Because Gus was good.

"Sir, we take great pride in our work. If that is unsatisfactory for you, then I suggest you find a different depot to do your business."

Shawn could feel his master's gaze on him before he heard a quiet, "Damnit."

Gus was good. It didn't matter that Shawn wasn't acting like he was supposed to. Gus was good.

"I'm sorry, this is my first time doing this," Gus said, sounding exactly how an embarrassed teenager was supposed to sound. "We only want the cuffs today, but could you print out that record? And I want to come with him."

"I can definitely get you that printout, but only employees are allowed in the back. Company policy."

"Can't you just–"

"No."

"...Give me a minute."

Shawn opened his eyes as he felt Gus get closer. He struggled to make his face blank as his heart pounded in his chest. Gus had been good; Shawn had known he would be. He didn't need to be scared now.

"Deep breaths, in and out," Gus instructed quietly. "You're doing good."

Shawn followed the order, automatically counting in his head. A small part of his mind latched onto the fact that it had been almost twenty four hours since Shawn had helped Gus through his own panic.

It seemed fitting. And wrong. And was just unique enough to pull his focus away from the bad memories. He'd helped solve a murder; he could handle being ordered around. Gus wouldn't let anything bad happen.

"We can go somewhere else."

Missy's father had paid extra at a high-end shop for them to be present. Gus already gave too much. "We're already here, sir. It'll be fine."

Gus let out a weary sigh. "I hope so… Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

Shawn didn't see whatever unspoken gesture Gus did, but the evidence of it beeped around his neck as his collar was put into service mode.

His leash changed hands and the guru waited a beat before adding in an almost-condescending tone, "We actually have a special on our literature as well, thirty percent off. I've heard good things about Slaves for Dummies as well as Mastering the Order…"

"He goes by Shawn. He responds to it better than 'slave'," Gus answered, his voice hard.

"I'll keep that in mind." Allen's voice twisted just slightly. Not enough for anyone to call him out, but enough for the sarcasm to be noticeable. "Shawn, follow me."

They didn't have far to go as Shawn was led to a small side room behind the employee's door. Allen snapped his fingers sharply before pointing to the floor next to a short chain. "Slave, kneel."

Gus was still nearby. They were just fixing the cuffs. Shawn knelt where he'd been told and held himself deathly still as the chain was attached to the back of his neck. Bad memories surrounded him, shoving him back in his place.

He didn't want to go back in his place.

The thought was shocking enough to ground him in the present. Since when was he not grateful to be reminded of his place?

"Why do I always get the weird ones?" Allen grumbled under his breath as he looked through several boxes. "It's a slave, not one of those stupid purse dogs…"

There was a sound of clinking metal and Allen stalked back to Shawn. "Slave, hands behind your back."

Shawn followed the order, his mind still reeling as extra restraints were put around his wrists and ankles. He'd known that it'd been getting harder to switch back to slave-mode, but it was supposed to be safer. It helped him act right so he wouldn't be punished.

The new cuffs ratcheted even tighter, cutting into his skin. A small machine in the guru's hands beeped as he typed into it. He continued to grumble as he reached behind Shawn with the tool. "It's not like you care. You just do what you're told. Don't you, you dumb shit?"

The cuffs fell from his wrists as his collar beeped. Damnit, he had to answer. He did what he was told. "Yes, sir."

The cuffs from his ankles released next and Allen gathered them up along with his tool. "It figures; the only way I can get some respect is from a slave." Shawn watched in his peripheral vision as the guru contemplated the cuffs in his hands before dropping them on a table. "Screw it; I'll get to this later."

The door closed and Shawn took a deep breath. He couldn't move, but it was fine. Even if the short leash was bringing back too many memories from when he'd been trained.

Sharp fear stabbed his insides at the thought of having to be retrained whenever Gus sold him. He tried to think past it; Gus was good. He didn't have to worry about that until it happened.

"How long will this take?"

Breathing became easier as Gus' voice filtered through the door.

"We have a queue of work orders. Yours will be seen in time. If you'd like to leave a callback number, you're welcome to leave and come back when he's done."

"That wasn't what I asked. How long will it take?"

"I'm sorry sir, but we're quite busy. He'll be ready for pickup before the end of the day."

Shawn's hands started to tingle as his pulse beat against the tight cuffs. His teeth worried at the insides of his cheeks as he tried to retreat into his mind. He'd been put away a few days ago. He could do it again. Just like he'd been trained to do.

Gus' voice turned sharp as he said, "I can see your computer. I know you're just clicking between two work tabs."

"Your order is in the queue and it'll be seen in time."

"Really…" A short silence followed, and Shawn strained his ears to hear any clues of what was going on. Gus spoke up again, his voice smooth as a salesman. "I'm sure this could speed things along. Just between you and me."

"... Are you seriously trying to bribe me with five dollars?"

"Do you really get paid enough to be picky? I'll sweeten the pot, but I expect you to treat him with kid gloves for this."

There was a short silence where Shawn imagined Gus folding the money into his palm and using a handshake to covertly transfer the bribe.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you."

Gus shouldn't have done that… but all Shawn could feel was gratitude that his time being forgotten on the dusty floor would be cut short.

Allen was humming when he sauntered back into the room and picked up the cuffs. "Man, you must be one hell of a fuck to get this kinda treatment."

The words echoed uncomfortably close to memories Shawn had buried deep. Shawn risked looking up, watching the guru's back as he dumped the cuffs on a workbench. He was in a storage room. He wasn't there.

"Must be nice, to be able to afford a toy that also cooks and cleans for you…" Allen scanned one of the cuffs with his scanner and punched in a command. The cuff clicked and the front face unlatched. Allen used a tool to take it the rest of the way off and to remove the black disk under it. He tossed the dead battery in a bin before eying up the coiled chain and magnet mechanism inside the open cuff. "Nice. Love it when things actually go my way."

He put in a new battery and closed the cuff back up. Shawn's focus stayed locked on the process as it was repeated three more times. Allen's constant stream of casual insults didn't matter, the memories lurking in the dark didn't matter… all that mattered was what was right in front of him. He didn't look away until Allen grabbed the finished cuffs and finally turned around.

Shawn's hands were almost completely numb when the cuffs were put back on and reactivated. It would have been much worse if Gus hadn't sped things along. The temporary cuffs were removed and Allen ordered, "Hands out in front of you, as far as they'll go."

Shawn followed the order and Allen made an approving noise as his instrument beeped. "Might not even have to recalibrate. Maybe that's why your master likes you; you're a good luck charm."

Allen unclipped the tether to the wall, sending a rush of relief through Shawn's body. It was almost over.

"Stand up."

Shawn stood, fighting the urge to stumble as his numb feet took his weight. His arms stayed outstretched.

Allen snickered. "Too bad I'd be fired if I used up all of our toilet paper. A living mummy statue would liven this place up. Don't you agree?"

It didn't matter what Shawn felt about being that statue; there was only one acceptable answer. Any decoration would liven the place up. "Yes, sir."

At least he knew how to answer without being shocked…

Gus never made him answer things like that.

"Stretch your left hand up. Right hand up. Step forward left foot. Step forward right foot…" There were a few more beeps before Allen ordered, "Touch your toes."

That wasn't part of the operability check… Shawn bent over, stretching until his fingers barely brushed his shoes.

There was an amused edge to Allen's voice when he said, "Stay."

Shawn closed his eyes as his face heated up. He hadn't forgotten what the humiliation felt like, but the half a year break with Gus made it sting like it was brand new. He didn't deserve this.

And there was yet another baffling thought. His trainer would be furious to know how much of his work had been undone.

Allen stayed busy as circulation slowly returned to Shawn's hands and the muscles in the back of his legs painfully stretched. A printer hummed, a stapler clicked, and Allen's shoes plodded across the floor. Shawn tensed as the guru walked up to him. What now?

"You know, I could push you over and you'd have to stay just like that. Boom, right on the floor. And zap if you try to catch yourself. It's so pathetic it's funny." A finger dug into Shawn's hip, giving him an experimental nudge. He wobbled but stayed on his feet. "I guess that probably wouldn't count as 'kid gloves' though… Oh well. Slave, stand.'

Shawn's muscles sighed in relief as he stood up straight. Black spots swam in front of his eyes and he had to focus to keep his balance. There was a tug to his leash and an order. "Follow me."

Shawn gladly complied, feeling safer with every step he took closer to Gus.

They'd been walking quietly for ten minutes. The only thing Gus had said after leaving the depot was that he couldn't stay near the shop, so they'd walk along the bus route until it caught up to them. Shawn certainly didn't mind the logic as he found himself firmly stuck between slave-mode and Shawn-mode.

Though, that wasn't quite right. Gus always thought of them as completely separate, but it had always been more of a spectrum. Shawn was always aware of the rules he was breaking when he was being 'Shawn'. It was a conscious choice, every time. It was a freeing choice, and it was getting easier and easier to make it… But the rules were still always there. They were still a part of him.

But yesterday, there'd been moments where he hadn't thought about them. Where he'd acted completely on instinct. When he'd fully been Shawn Henry Spencer.

Maybe that's why his memory was being loud today. It knew a slave needed rules. It was how he stayed safe. No matter what he did, those memories were a part of him. The collar was a part of him. He was a slave.

An old conversation offered him a different perspective.

"I'm pretty sure you weren't always a slave, and I don't see how having a collar put on could be enough to make a person not a person."

"It wasn't."

That thought process wasn't going anywhere good. It was time to think about something else. Like the fact that Gus still hadn't said a word in over ten minutes.

"I'm sorry," Shawn said, surprising himself. He'd meant to ask if Gus was alright…

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

Shawn's traitorous mouth answered, "You freak out over slave things and I just made you do more of them."

"I'm pretty sure it was the person who decided slaves needed cuffs with batteries who's to blame here." Gus studied him for a second before glancing back to see if the bus was coming. "Besides, I'm not freaking out."

"Really?" Shawn asked. It seemed a bit hard to believe. "And that's why we're walking instead of taking the bus?"

Gus set his jaw stubbornly. "I needed to get you away from there." His expression softened as he admitted, "And I didn't want you to have to worry about being around other people. You seemed like you could use the break."

Guilt twisted in Shawn's gut as he realized he believed what his mouth had said. "You needed a break…"

Gus hesitated, like he was debating what he wanted to say next. "I hate when you get treated like that. And I'm not an idiot, I know that 'he didn't hurt me' barely covers what a bully can do. Especially one who can force you to follow their orders. But…" He sighed and looked away. "This world is messed up, and we can't change that. So sometimes you just gotta take the win that's being able to do something to make it a bit less terrible."

"Like bribing a guru with five bucks?" Shawn asked with a small smirk.

Gus glanced over with a small smirk of his own. "Would you believe me if I said I knew he wouldn't take it?"

Shawn's smile grew; he'd known he was friends with Gus for a reason. "You played him."

"I had to make the twenty look good enough to actually treat you better." Gus' smug look fell and he slowed to a stop in the shadow of a tree. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't think that way. I know I didn't do enough; I've never let someone take you out of my sight before. It shouldn't have happened."

The guilt pulled on Shawn, matching the guilt he could see consuming Gus. He was right; the world was messed up. But if the last hour hadn't happened, complete with the mocking and humiliation, would he have had the realizations he'd had? Gus had found something good out of it. He had too.

But how could he make Gus understand when he was still figuring it out himself? "You should think that way. You played him like a fiddle; Johnny would be proud. And it did help."

"I just wish I could do more."

"Gus." Shawn waited for Gus to meet his eyes before continuing, "You do realize that I would be dead right now if it wasn't for you, right?"

A muscle twitched in Gus' jaw. "That doesn't mean that I should just let anything happen to you because it's better than the alternative."

"Since when do you do that?" Shawn stared him down, willing him to understand. "The world is messed up. You make it better."

Gus held his gaze. "You make it better too."

After several seconds they both realized there wasn't anything else to say. Shawn jerked his head to the side and Gus nodded in agreement. They stepped into the sunlight together, leaving the shadows behind.

Note translation: Shawn. Hi, I'm good and safe. I am the only one who will see this. I don't know what I'm doing; I don't know how to be useful. How did you find something? Learning how to write better is good, but I don't know how that will help. Your story made me laugh, thank you. The dog Ozzy chases his tail a lot. It's funny when he actually catches it. I miss you too, Abigail.