There was a spring in Gus' step as he walked into his dorm building. He hadn't realized just how much weight he'd been carrying for the last… forever. It had been nice to get away from it for a bit.

And to get away from it with such a charming, funny, gorgeous girl… A large smile stretched across his face as he climbed the stairs. It had been a good date.

How bad had it been for Shawn, though? Gus' smile faltered as he reached the first landing. Everyone probably had a point that he was trying to carry too much… but could he really justify stepping away if it hurt Shawn?

Except Shawn had wanted him to go too.

Maybe the time hadn't gone terribly and Gus was just catastrophizing. It would be fine.

Right?

Gus could feel the weight layering back on him as he took the last few steps to the door. There wasn't any spring to them anymore.

He listed out reassurances as he reached for the door knob. Shawn had wanted him to go, he trusted Shawn to handle himself, even if something bad had happened it didn't mean it was his fault… Whatever was on the other side of the door, he could handle it.

Gus opened the door.

Shawn startled at his entrance, sitting up abruptly from where he'd been hunched over his sketchbook. He slammed the book shut, but not before Gus saw words scrawled across the page instead of pictures. What had he been writing?

No. That was the wrong question.

"Hey."

"Hello…"

Gus stepped into the room, keeping his distance like he would a startled cat. "If you can, I'd like to know how it went."

Shawn didn't look up as he put his sketchbook away. "It went… It went."

It spoke volumes that Shawn didn't even try pretending to be fine. Gus carefully made his way to his desk, making sure to skirt around the closed laptop on the ground. Shawn had definitely followed through on his end of the bargain. Relief clashed with worry as Gus sat down and Shawn still wouldn't look at him. "Do you want to–"

Wait, no. The whole point of Shawn taking over his research was for Gus to not be pushy. Gus tried again. "Do you need to talk about it or should we act like everything's normal?"

Shawn slumped in relief. "Normal, please."

There was just one problem… Gus wasn't ready to act normal yet. He struggled for a second before letting himself say, "Ok. I'm not going to push, just know that I'm always happy to listen or talk about it."

Shawn nodded in acknowledgement before asking, "So, how did the date go?"

He still wasn't looking up, and now they were closer, Gus could see how red his eyes were. His heart ached with the need to help, but that wasn't what Shawn needed right now. Gus needed to let it go.

God, it was hard letting it go.

"Gus?"

"Sorry." Gus shook his head and pulled his mind back to the great date he'd just had. He needed to channel that energy again. His smile didn't feel very convincing as he started, "The date went good, and the inanimate objects didn't hate me for a change."

The air lightened as he talked about Molly's embarrassing mishap with her purse strap and a lamp. Shawn relaxed with the story, asking questions and smiling at the right times. He finally met Gus' eyes as he made a light joke, and Gus' laugh came naturally.

The laptop stayed ignored between them.

The first real hint of how the research session had gone came the very next day.

"Can… Can I come with you?"

Gus' eyebrows rose at the break in their routine. "I mean, sure… Are you sure you want to? It's four lectures in a row."

"It's, uh… I don't…" Shawn winced before tapping his head. "It's loud. Being around people makes it less loud."

Gus tried to follow the logic. "I thought crowds made things worse."

"It… depends on the loud?" Shawn shrugged as he looked everywhere except at Gus. "Sometimes it's good to have to track everything. Sometimes it's too much."

"Is this because of yesterday?"

"Y-Yeah… Sorry. Am I supposed– I can stay. I can do better."

Was it good or bad that Gus had known this was going to happen? "Shawn. This isn't something you can rush. If you need to come with, that's fine. If it's too much right now, then looking up even more things will only make it worse."

Shawn's expression turned frustrated as he stared at Gus' feet. "Then it's just going to take longer…"

"These things take time."

"That's dumb."

Gus couldn't help but huff in agreement. "Yeah, it really is. Sorry."

"How…" Shawn winced and clasped his hands together. "How often do you want me to research?"

Gus' heart yearned to give him a concrete answer. A way to soothe the slave conditioning of needing to be good. "I know this isn't what you want to hear… But I want you to research as often as you need. And if that's once a month, ok. If it's every other day, ok. If it changes from week to week –and it will– it's all ok."

"And if it's never?" Shawn asked quietly.

Gus clamped down on the immediate urge to say it was the wrong choice. "Then… Then that's ok too. It's your choice. I can't… I won't make you do something like this."

Shawn's thoughts were hidden behind a blank mask while Gus' thoughts ran a mile a minute. How far could he push his view before he was overstepping? It had to be so hard to have been punished for showing feelings and then to be told to feel them again. Was Gus asking too much?

Except Shawn clearly wasn't able to do what he'd been doing anymore. It was hurting him. Could Gus stand back and allow him to hurt himself even more?

And they needed to have left for class two minutes ago if he didn't want to be late…

Shawn finally broke the silence as he closed his eyes and asked, "Will it keep hurting?"

Gus' existence squeezed with pain for his friend's burden. "I can't promise anything; I really wish I could. But… How often has ignoring pain actually made that pain go away?"

Shawn sighed in response. "It never mattered if it went away…"

Gus silently disagreed. Shawn's old masters had probably loved the fact that the pain didn't go away even though Shawn had to pretend he was fine.

But that wasn't useful to say, and Shawn continued before Gus could come up with anything better. "Is the bag ready for me to carry? It's time to go, right?"

Whatever Shawn chose, it was ok. It wasn't for Gus to know. Even if he really really wanted to know…

"Yeah, it's time to go."

The next couple of days passed quietly. Gus texted Molly a few times and set up another date, Shawn took every opportunity to not be alone, and they were only a few hours away from a free weekend. Gus' stomach was contently stuffed as he led them out of the dining hall. Fridays were always the best meals.

He'd even convinced Shawn to join him in getting seconds. It was always a win when he could do that.

As if summoned by his happy thoughts, several voices started singing through an open door ahead of them. Gus' attention locked onto the tight harmonies of his favorite song, and his feet carried him into the communal study area.

There were three guys singing crowded around a piano, all reading from the same piece of music. Only a few of the other students seemed to even notice the rehearsal; most of them were focusing on their projects or had headphones on. It was too bad, they were missing a hell of a good performance.

The singers finished the verse, and the one with an enviable afro cut them off. "Not bad, not bad… But it still doesn't sound right."

The larger singer rolled his eyes, gesturing animatedly as he complained, "I told you. I told you. How many three men acapella groups you know?"

The third one chimed in to ask pointedly, "How many four man acapella groups you know, Joon?"

"Did you not hear the song we was just singin? It's So Hard to Say Goodbye, Boyz II Men, Four man acapella."

"They're not always acapella…"

"Four parts. Bass, Baritone, Tenor, Lead. We missin' parts, man!"

Shawn spoke quietly, right behind Gus' shoulder. "Didn't you say you used to sing at your church?"

"Yeah…" Gus' imagination ran with the idea. Stages, coordinated dances, rounds of applause… They could even get good enough to have groupies. It would be so dope.

Gus snapped back to reality as he remembered everything he was responsible for. "No. No, no, I don't have time, we don't know that they're looking for a fourth–"

The afro singer broke up the argument. "Just because we haven't found a fourth yet doesn't mean we won't. We got fliers up, and we got a gig at that music frat…"

"I think they're looking for a fourth," Shawn said, his grin easy to hear.

And, damnit, Gus wanted to be that fourth. Shawn was right, he did sing. He just hadn't had the time since summer had happened. He even knew the part; he'd learned all of them after listening to the song on repeat for almost a month straight.

But was he really ready for that kind of commitment? Rehearsals and gigs and just hanging out with the rest of the group? What would Shawn do during those times? It was so much bigger than just going out for a coffee date. Gus wasn't ready for something that much bigger. Shawn wasn't ready for something that much bigger. He wouldn't even stay in the room for a full morning anymore.

"You agreed you'd do more things for you…"

Had he actually agreed to that? Gus' feet took half a step forward. And his phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew who it was before he even looked.

Thank God, he didn't have to decide whether to join the group.

He didn't get to decide whether to join the group…

It didn't matter; the cops needed them. Shawn needed him. Gus turned his back on the singers as he answered the call, "This is Burton Guster speaking…"

The storage building loomed overhead as Shawn's suggestion buzzed in Gus' ear. "You want to do what now?"

"We need to break in," Shawn said, his eyes already scanning for the best way to do it.

"Have you somehow managed to forget rule one?"

"Nope!" Shawn's body practically buzzed with energy. "Our evidence is in there. We won't know what it is unless we go in."

"And the evidence won't matter if we're caught breaking the law!"

"But I need–" Shawn cut himself off before adding more desperately. "You said being good only mattered when the cops could see us."

Damnit, Gus had known this was going to happen. He'd just naively hoped the contract would take care of it for him. "There has to be another way to find the answers. Or to give Lassiter a reason to search here. Or…"

"A man was killed because of whatever's being stored here. We need to know what it is. Before it gets moved or destroyed."

Where was the line? Gus needed to let Shawn make his own decisions, but he also had to say no sometimes, but he also was the one in charge, but he also wasn't the one with his life on the line… What was he supposed to do?

Gus desperately tried to regain control of the situation. "It's ok if you don't solve every case the cops give us. We don't actually need to–"

"Yes we do!" Shawn flinched but didn't look away. "I can't exactly be psychic if I don't divine things."

Except his words weren't matching his actions. Shawn had been reckless this whole case. Speaking up against the chief, trying to look through Lassiter's desk, pushing to break into a warehouse instead of finding another way… "You won't be able to solve every case; we can come up with a reason. If you get caught doing this–"

"What else can I lose?" Shawn snapped back.

Ice ran through Gus' veins and Shawn's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. "S-Sorry. Sorry."

Gus kept his anger in check as he kept his voice low. "For both of our sakes, I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. What's going on?"

"I just… I need to solve this case."

"Not good enough. You've been off ever since we got the call. Why?"

"I don't… I just…" Shawn studied the sidewalk as his shoulders hunched up. "I'm sorry."

Gus sighed out his anger; why couldn't things ever be easy? "Take your time. But I'm not moving until you can tell me what's going on."

For a long moment, it seemed like Shawn was going to call his bluff. Shawn's hands clenched and unclenched nervously as he finally spoke. "I'm not… able to be good. With the research." He winced, as though wishing he'd been able to use different words. "And I'm not being good with letting you go to classes alone. But I can be good with this."

"By breaking and entering?"

"By solving the case." Shawn frowned and added in a mutter, "And if I figure out the code, it would just be entering… Nothing against the law about that."

"...Yes there is." Gus' anger thawed as he thought about what Shawn had said. "And you are being good with that other stuff; you don't have anything to prove here. If you need to hear it, you're making me happy with what you've been doing."

Shawn swallowed thickly and nodded. He glanced towards the warehouse, sounding reluctant as he said, "But our evidence is right there."

"I know. But we can–"

"Hey!"

Gus spun around, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw an angry looking man stalking towards them. Shawn whispered quickly behind him, "Play it cool."

Easy for him to say! Gus cleared his throat and answered, "H-Hi. Can I… Can I help you?"

"What are you doing here, kid?" The man crossed his arms, giving them a good look at all of his badass tattoos.

Gus tore his eyes from the ink and barely managed to squeak out, "I'm just going for a walk."

"Really? Because from where I was standing, there wasn't much walking going on…" Tattoo Guy jerked his chin towards Shawn. "Why were you arguing with your slave out here?"

"Well I couldn't exactly do it at home," Gus' mouth answered as their cover story solidified in his mind. "I've been training him for a slave debate team. You can't really do that without arguing, and my parents are not happy about it."

Tattoo raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Slave debate team?"

"It's this whole experiment at my school. How do slaves debate differently than free people…" Gus channeled his school exhaustion into a fed up shrug. "I know, but I'm just a student. What can you do?"

"What you can do is do your homework somewhere else." Tattoo lifted his shirt to show a gun tucked into his waistband. "Now."

Gus' heart pounded as he stared at the gun –the actual real gun– in front of him. He had to stay cool… "Oh. Uh. Yes. Somewhere else. Somewhere else is good."

"You didn't hear anything; you didn't see anything."

Gus nodded as he backed up. "I didn't hear anything; I didn't see anything."

"Good. And good luck with your project."

"Uh… You too." Gus turned around, Tattoo's low chuckle making his face heat up. Why had he said that?

Pressure built up between Gus' shoulder blades as they walked away, right where a gun could be aiming. They were going to get shot… And he had just gotten caught up on homework. Couldn't he have been shot before that?

Why did he think that? That was an awful last thought! And oh god, they could die…

As soon as he was able, Gus turned them down another street. His legs tried to give out as they moved out of the gun's line of sight. Holy crap, they weren't going to die. "Oh my god…"

"Slave debate team?" was Shawn's only answer.

How? How was that what he was focusing on?

"It kept us from being shot," Gus answered, stressing the last word so Shawn could understand the gravity of the situation.

""We wouldn't have been shot if we'd been in the warehouse…"

Gus groaned and sped up, taking them away from danger before Shawn could get any more terrible ideas. It was going to be a long day.

"Shawn, I'm serious! That was a big deal!"

"We wouldn't have been caught…"

"You don't know that!" Gus resumed pacing in their room. "There could have been cameras, or guards, or…"

"What bad guys would have cameras on their illegal contraband?" Shawn asked curiously from the bed.

"The smart kind!" Why wasn't Shawn getting it? "If you're caught breaking the law, you'll be lucky if the contract is the only thing you lose."

"A psychic slave who can't do psychic things will lose the contract too," Shawn said, sounding far too logical. "It was only by dumb luck that we solved this case."

Gus stopped and pointed emphatically at him. "No. It wasn't dumb luck. You saw an opportunity and you took it. Legally."

"And if we'd gone into the warehouse, we might have solved it before the second guy got killed."

"That is not on us." Gus' stomach churned at the reminder. He'd really been trying to not think about that. "We did everything we could. Everything that we were allowed to do."

"How many times do you need to say it before you believe it?"

"How am I the bad guy here?!"

Shawn set his jaw and asked, "What happened to treating me like a person? It's my contract; don't I get to make the call?"

"Aren't I allowed to stop my best friend from getting himself killed?" Gus snapped back.

His mind raced in the ensuing silence; he was right, damnit. Even if it felt like he was wrong, that feeling was wrong, because he was right. And he really really needed to hold onto that, before he managed to let Shawn convince him of something he'd regret for the rest of his life.

Shawn looked shell shocked as he finally asked, "I'm your best friend?"

That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair… Gus dropped onto the bed next to him. "Of course you're my best friend."

"...Oh."

Unfortunately, Shawn wasn't completely wrong, either. Even though their contract allowed room for failure, Gus hadn't been able to negotiate any more precise wording. A perfect clear rate was the only guarantee that their 'services' were considered 'adequate'. At what point was protecting Shawn actually hurting him?

Gus broke the silence this time. "I'm sorry; I really don't want to control you. I just also really don't want to see you taken away."

"You were fine with breaking the law before. Mr. Fuller, the janitor... I would have been taken away those times too."

Gus really didn't want to admit that he had a point. "I… accepted us breaking the law. Because it was the best choice we had."

Had going into the warehouse been the best choice?

"So… We can do it if it's the best choice?"

Why couldn't life be easier? Why had he agreed to break the law in the past? Why hadn't he broken the law today?

But none of those questions really mattered. It wasn't his choice. Shawn's freedom was on the line, and he was going to be able to make these choices on his own someday. Gus had to honor that.

"I can't tell you what to do." Shawn snorted and Gus rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. It's your life; I can't give you orders now and then expect you to be able to make decisions after you're free."

Shawn beamed, clearly thinking he'd won.

"But," Gus said emphatically. He wasn't finished yet. "I can and will make sure you've thought things through. And I will absolutely make sure you do it in the safest way possible. I'm not going to watch you throw your life away just because you wanted to break the rules."

"I would never do that," Shawn said mildly, not even trying to hide that Gus was right.

"Sure you wouldn't… But seriously, please don't get yourself killed. I don't want to have to find another best friend."

A small smile pulled at Shawn's lips at the words. He studied Gus, his look both warm and calculating. "If we'd gone into the warehouse–"

God, he was never going to let that go. "Fine, I'm sorry."

"If we'd gone into the warehouse," Shawn continued stubbornly, "it would have taken time to find the evidence and put things together. Then we would have had to go across town for my vision, then wait some more for the cops to do stuff… That guy got killed an hour after we met the dude with the gun. He was dead no matter what choice we made."

"Oh." A weight lifted from Gus' shoulders. It wasn't their fault. For the first time that day, he believed it.

It only seemed fair to return the favor. "You know, you're not failing."

Shawn frowned in confusion and Gus clarified, "You said you had to solve the case because you're struggling with the other stuff. I'm just saying, even if you're struggling, it doesn't mean you're not doing good."

Shawn picked at the bedspread, avoiding making eye contact "You're supposed to do more things for you… then I keep coming with. That's not good."

"You're doing what I asked and you're making sure you don't get overwhelmed. That is good."

"Sorry…"

"Shawn, you don't have to–"

"For almost getting you shot."

Gus' stomach plummeted. He'd been working really really hard to not think about that. His hands shook as he remembered how close they'd come to dying. "Tonight's going to suck, isn't it?"

Shawn laughed in commiseration. "Yeah… Sorry."

"At least we're in it together."

"That's what best friends are for."

Yeah, that was what best friends were for.