A/N: Sorry for the week delay. Moving house took it out of me, then there was a family emergency, then politics hit close to home… Been a rough few weeks. Glad to be back to posting.

Thank you to Carola_Canela for double checking my Spanish.

(4 years ago)

The bedazzled scissors snipped and another lock of rainbow hair fell to the floor. Missy eyed up her creation before moving the scissors in again. "The one is definitely a rebel. No matter how much the groomers want her to be all happy and sunshine, she has other ideas. Kicking, biting… " She turned the plastic horse for Shawn to see. "What do you think?"

The sparkly mane had been hacked short so it stood up in a jagged mohawk. A dozen snarky responses crowded in Shawn's brain, but he kept them in check. "It looks good, Missy."

He really didn't want to be kenneled again…

But even though he'd said the right thing, Missy sighed in disappointment. "You know, a year ago you would have said something about how I should try the look out myself…"

Shawn bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying he would have been shocked for it too.

Missy carefully arranged the horse in her dollhouse where the rest of the new fashionable herd was displayed. She held out her hand and Shawn dug through the toy box to hand over her next project.

"I wish horses were as fun in real life," Missy said as she brushed the new horse's shiny blonde mane. "Daddy bought me some lessons, but they were just really boring. Walk here, walk there, don't let the horse eat from the tree, the horse eats from the tree anyway… I wanted it to be like in the movies!" The scissors came out again, and she snipped as she chatted. "Like where the horse bonds with only one rider, and it can read her mind, and they gallop so fast and everyone's excited… Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Shawn tried to read Missy's mind for how much snark she wanted. "Yes, Missy. But wouldn't you have to get bucked off first? That part of the movie doesn't seem fun."

"I guess not…" Missy eyed up her work before tossing the horse towards her nail polish shelf. "She needs purple in her hair." She held out a hand. "Next."

Shawn grabbed another horse blindly and handed it over, an older toy with much less detail. Missy froze when she saw it, and Shawn's heart skipped a beat. Had he done something wrong?

She took it from him silently, her fingers gently running down its nose. Her normally rambunctious aura was muted, her smile gone. Shawn watched with bated breath; this could go very badly. The only thing that made Missy act like that was when something reminded her of her mother. And even after a year and a half in the house, Shawn still didn't know what that story was.

For a second, it looked like Missy was about to tell him, but instead she shook her head and carefully placed the pony on a table by itself. "I think I'm tired of playing horses…" Her eyes lit up and she grabbed her scissors. "I have a much better idea! Rover, stay."

Shawn locked up at the order, and the blades descended towards his hair.

(Present Day)

Energy jittered under Shawn's skin as he climbed the stairs to the precinct. Apparently Lassiter had sounded odd when he'd called them, which told Shawn absolutely nothing. They could be walking into an active shooter situation or just a group of kids being disrespectful to the badge. The only thing he knew for sure was that they were walking into something.

At least the rush was a good distraction from the other emotions he'd been dealing with. He'd been doing his best, forcing himself through different exercises meant to help with grief. But it was still hard. And it still hurt. And he was really ready to be thinking about something else for a bit.

Gus let out a shaky breath before opening the door and leading them inside. He was probably nervous about the case too; it was the first one since they'd agreed that breaking the rules was still on the table.

Though 'agreed' seemed like too strong of a word… Maybe it was more 'relented under extreme protest'.

It would be fine. They might not even have to break the law this time.

Gus' voice as he talked to the lady at the front desk snapped Shawn out of his thoughts. He needed to figure out what was going on. He needed to focus.

A quick glance around told Shawn two very interesting things. The windows around the chief's office had their shades drawn, and there was a lot more movement in the bullpet as different officers and detectives worked together. There was definitely something going on.

Lassiter's desk being flanked by Chief Swanson and a mystery woman were his next two clues. The woman was dressed in a skirt and suit jacket that looked professional without being stern, and she held a clipboard with familiarity. Not a cop, but not a civilian either…

The woman scowled when she saw them, and Shawn ducked his head to push himself into his slave mask. Swanson had made it obvious that he didn't want to kick them out right away, but that didn't mean he wouldn't change his mind. There were too many unknowns for them to take chances.

"Mr. Guster. 'Bout time you got here."

"We got here as fast as we could," Gus said defensively. "Lassiter even called us a cab."

Lassiter didn't say anything, just handing a file to Gus. Gus passed it on without even looking at it. Bless him.

Shawn flipped open the cover and took in the picture of a crying girl covered in scratches and dirt. He flipped through the next few photos showing close ups of her clothes as Swanson made introductions.

"This is Mr. Burton Guster, the consultant I was tellin' you about. This is Dr. Ava Davis, a specialist of ours for child psychology."

Dr. Davis snapped out, "A specialist you aren't listening to."

"We listened to you for three hours and ain't got nothin' to show for it. We do it my way now."

"Your way goes against every rule in the book."

"Funny. I didn't realize there was an exact rule that said slaves can't talk to witnesses…"

Shawn quickly scanned what little info there was. They didn't know the child's name, she was estimated to be around eight, she was found stumbling into the edge of town, and she hadn't said a word since she'd been picked up. Her scrapes and bruises didn't tell much besides she'd had a rough time in the wilderness, and dirt covered too much of her clothes to see anything useful. Though CSI had found some short hairs on the pants that weren't the girl's. It wasn't much to go on…

"We have these protocols for a reason," Dr. Davis argued. "Letting someone talk to her without proper training could have disastrous consequences."

"More like something than someone…."

"That is semantics and you know it!"

"I'll tell you what I know." Swanson's voice gained an edge as he listed off, "I know I got a hurt kid in my office and I don't know a goddamn thing about her. Not how long she was out there, if she's got family, if there's other kids who're lost, or –God forbid– if she was runnin' from someone. I also know that this man's slave has been able to see things others can't. And right now, we ain't seeing much of nothin'. If letting it in there hurts that kid, then I'll hand over my badge myself. But until then, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make sure we ain't just sitting on our asses while the trail runs cold."

This wasn't just a chief doing his job. This was a man on a personal mission.

Shawn really couldn't screw this one up. The chief would turn on him in an instant.

"Slave, ya see enough?"

Shawn double checked the location and times before handing the folder back to Gus. "Yes, sir."

"Got anything yet?"

"I haven't sensed anything, sir." Would he be able to find something? If the 'specialist' hadn't been able to get any information out of the girl, then how would he? But if he actually pulled it off… Energy rushed over his shoulders as everything sharpened around him. He could do this.

Dr. Davis pleaded one last time, "Chief Swanson, please."

"You said that sometimes it's easier for kids to talk to toys or animals instead of people. Even kids know what slaves are. Give it five minutes to talk to her without a buncha people starin' on and see what happens."

She didn't answer, the silence filled with her disapproval.

Swanson beckoned and led them towards his office. "You can listen outside the door and pull it out the second you think it's necessary."

"Wait," Gus cut in. "If she pulls Shawn out, will you hold it against him?"

"Depends on what it was doin'."

Gus stepped in front of Shawn, forcing him to stop too. "You both agree that he isn't trained for this. If he goes in there, I want a guarantee that he won't be punished if he doesn't act like someone with training would."

Equal parts frustration and relief warred in Shawn's chest. Gus wasn't trusting him, the other people weren't trusting him either, he needed to be safe, he needed to solve the case… This was what he was good at; it was why he was here.

"You get to pick which cases you take. Are you turning this one down?" Swanson asked, his voice low in a barely concealed threat.

"What I'm doing is making sure Shawn isn't hurt unless he does something to deliberately hurt her. If that's not something you can agree to, then it's you who's deciding he isn't on this case."

Lassiter broke his silence. "Sir, based on past experience, there isn't any reason to think the slave will intentionally harm the girl."

Swanson let out an angry sigh. "Fine. But it's on my discretion, not yours."

Gus hesitated before asking, "Shawn?"

"Yes, sir. I can be good." And he could. As long as he was allowed to solve the case… Shawn busied his mind, running through everything he knew about the area the girl had been found in. Not many trails, no heavy traffic, no natural barriers to shrink the possibilities of where she'd come from…

The next thing he knew, his leash was being handed over and Swanson was leading him into his office. The girl was sitting curled up on a chair in front of the desk, her wavy dark hair curtaining her face from view. Her hands were the only part of her that moved, slowly picking at a growing bald spot in a stuffed horse's mane.

Swanson's voice was gentle as he said, "Hello again, little miss. I called a friend of the station and asked to borrow his slave. Ya see, his slave is special; it's able to see things others can't. We're hopin' it might be able to see something with you. Would it be alright if it chatted with you for a few minutes?"

The girl didn't react.

Swanson waited several more seconds before nodding. "Alright. We'll come back to get it in a few minutes. If you need anything, go ahead and knock on my desk. It could use a good thumpin'." The girl still didn't respond, and Swanson turned to unhook the leash. The collar suddenly dug into Shawn's neck as Swanson pulled him forward to growl in his ear. "If you do anything to hurt her, I'll make you wish you were sold to a lab. Nod if you understand."

Shawn nodded quickly, holding perfectly still as the chief walked away. The back of his neck ached as his pulse pounded against the collar. He really hadn't missed how powerless it felt to be pulled around by it.

But he didn't need those memories right now. Nor the shaking hands, or the ache in his chest, or the cracks in the wall that was holding all of his other emotions at bay… Shawn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding for a second before he let it out. He had a job to do. The rest could come later.

He opened his eyes, and found a large pair of brown eyes staring back at him. The girl cringed, but didn't look away. Which was already better than Swanson had done. Shawn gave her a small smile and said, "Hello. My name's Shawn."

She didn't answer. How was he supposed to do this?

Swanson had thought being a slave could help. The girl watched him warily as he walked to the desk and knelt beside it. "The reason Chief Swanson asked my master to bring me is because I can do things. Like magic. He thought I might be able to use it to help you."

The girl still looked like a rabbit ready to bolt, but her eyebrows tilted down in a sliver of curiosity.

Shawn took in everything he could see about her. The mismatched clothes that were courtesy of the station's lost and found, the small purple stars in her ears, small chips of purple fingernail polish that had mostly been picked away… Shawn slowly brought his hand to his temple. "I'm seeing something now. Your favorite color… is purple."

Her eyes widened even further and she gave a barely perceptible nod.

He'd gotten her attention; now what? How did he earn the trust of a kid? Shawn eyed up the pony in her hands. "You know, one of my… I used to know someone who played with horses like that. She liked giving them makeovers. Until one of them caught on fire." He shrugged, masking the memory with a small smile. "Ends up curling irons aren't for toys. And fire extinguishers work better than hair spray."

The girl just blinked, staring like she wasn't quite sure what she'd just heard. Which was fair.

Shawn dropped the memory before he could remember the punishment. He reached up to grab a highlighter from the chief's desk. "She liked coloring their hair too… What do you think? Yellow mane?"

She glanced towards the door before looking back down at the white strands in her hand. The bald spot grew larger as she picked at it before shakily pointing towards the other highlighter.

"Orange?"

She nodded, and he swapped the colors before handing it over. Her fingers barely moved, only coloring a small section of the mane.

He only had a few minutes; hopefully this wasn't the absolutely wrong thing to do… "I'm sensing something else. Earlier today." She froze, her breath stuttering. Shawn softened his voice even more. "Something scary happened. And you had to be brave. Running so far through the woods."

The highlighter trembled and her jaw twitched, like she simultaneously wanted to say something and needed to be quiet. Her eyes locked with Shawn, desperate fear reaching out as she begged him to say it for her.

The look jolted something deep in Shawn's soul. A memory of hands grabbing him, metal clicking around his neck, a desperate look to his foster father… The man turning away, the plea going unanswered.

Shawn cleared his throat and pressed his finger harder into his temple. He had a job to do. "I'm trying to see what happened. You were in the forest… but I can't see what you were doing. The spirits are trying to find it, but they need help."

The girl started to shake, her eyes filling with tears.

"They can see how brave you were. They just need you to be brave a little longer…"

The girl's free hand slowly clenched before two of her fingers extended, one on either side of the horse's back. She had no idea how strong she was being.

"The spirits can see something; hooves on the ground, tail swishing, a mouth snorting… You were riding a horse. And you weren't alone." No eight year old would be on their own with a horse. He just needed a little bit more. "Something happened, but I'm only seeing bits and pieces…"

Her breath hitched, and on the exhale came a whispered word. "Monstruo."

Fireworks went off in his brain as he put everything together. There were only a few things a person would find in California forests that would be considered a monster. A person, a bobcat, or a bear. And it was the perfect time of year for mama bears to be protective of their cubs…

Gus was going to be pissed.

"Something big came, scaring your horse. It ran, and you fell." Who wouldn't fall? And it matched where the dirt had been the thickest on her pants. "You needed to get help…"

"Mi papá," the girl whimpered. She hugged her knees closer as tears ran down her cheeks. "Mi papá, mi papá…"

Ice ran through Shawn's veins; bear attacks could be brutal. "He was the one who was with you?"

She nodded, sobbing even harder.

His heart urged to take her in his arms and to promise that everything would be ok. His knees stayed on the floor.

He couldn't do anything that would seem aggressive.

He comforted her the only way he knew how. "I will find him. We'll get him help."

No one should lose a dad. He wouldn't let that happen to her.

The office door opened, and a gentle voice said, "I think that's enough."

Dr. Davis went to the girl, crouching next to the chair as she spoke quiet Spanish. Swanson ordered from the door, "Slave. Back here."

Shawn did as he was told, glancing back just in time to see the girl throw her arms around the psychologist's neck. She was in good hands. His collar vibrated as the leash was hooked on, and he fell back to attention. Had he done good enough?

"That was honestly more information than I thought we'd get," Swanson said as he handed the leash over to Gus.

"So you're saying 'thank you'?" Gus asked.

"I'm sayin' it did good enough to get compensation for this case. Lassiter, get on the horn and tell the boys to focus on any horse trails around where the girl was picked up."

Lassiter answered promptly, "There's a trail just two miles from there, sir. Low enough difficulty for a beginner rider too."

"Hell of a long way for her to walk," Swanson said, his voice warm with admiration. "Focus there then fan out towards town. There might be side trails that are less known."

"I'd like to join them. The more eyes the better."

"Fine by me. Take your consultant too." Swanson paused, and Shawn could feel the weight of his gaze. "His slave has a promise to keep."

Lassiter didn't waste any time, only stopping by the break room before leading them to his cruiser. It was the first time they'd ridden with him with the sirens on.

The energy under Shawn's skin hummed as they sped through the streets. Cars parted ahead of them like water around a boat hull, and Lassiter didn't even have to slow down as they blew through another intersection. It spoke to something deep in Shawn's soul. The same part that yearned for a motorcycle and an open road.

"Do we really have to go this fast?" Gus asked as he clutched the handhold in the door.

Lassiter's voice dripped in sarcasm. "You're right. A man could be bleeding out right now; we should turn this into a Sunday stroll…"

They screeched around a corner, and Lassiter's face lit up with glee. Shawn grinned with him.

Gus grumbled about being the only one in the car with self preservation.

There were already several cruisers at the trail when they arrived. As Lassiter went to talk to the other officers, Gus asked, "So, what do you think?"

"I think if her dad was near the trail, they would have found him by now…" Shawn looked around, orienting his mental map. They could avoid anywhere near a busier road; the girl would have been seen and, even if no one stopped, they would have at least called the police. They could also avoid the rocky areas around them; the girl had been covered in dirt. Shawn pointed towards a more wooded area. "We should try over there."

"Oh god, we're going to be eaten…"

For once, Shawn couldn't roll his eyes at Gus' fear. Someone had been attacked, and whatever had done it was still at large.

Lassiter stalked back, rage written across his face. "What do you got?"

"What's wrong?" Gus asked.

"None of your business. What do you got?"

Adrenaline rushed through Shawn as he tried to read Lassiter's mind. What was the right answer? "It's faint… But the spirits are sending me over there."

"Fine. Let's go."

Gus rushed to catch up as Lassiter strode towards the forested area. "We aren't helping the others?"

"Nope."

Gus wisely let the conversation drop. Though how much of that was because of the angry officer versus the potential bear, Shawn didn't know.

He also didn't know how to explain the sharp certainty that Lassiter's anger was because of him.

The silence followed them into the woods. The breeze rustled the leaves overhead, their footfalls were punctuated by quiet snaps of twigs, and skittering sounds could be heard through the underbrush. Shawn stayed alert, looking for any signs that would tell them where to go.

The answer came fifteen minutes later in the form of a quiet snort. Shawn stopped and strained his ears; where had it come from?

"Shawn?" Gus asked. Had he not heard it?

Shawn held his hand to his temple. "This way."

He listened intently as he started to move again, and a quieter snuffle guided him. It didn't take long for the horse to come into view.

It still had its saddle and bridle, the reins dragging on the ground as it grazed. It was light brown, except for its back flank, where dark red covered the fur around several bleeding slashes.

"Easy," Lassiter murmured as they drew closer and the horse saw them. It startled, its ears pinning back as its nostrils flared. "Both of you stay back."

"Good. I don't do horses," Gus told Shawn as they both stopped.

"You have it out for a lot of animals."

Lassiter ignored both of them, reaching slowly into his pocket as he approached the horse. "Easy boy, you're alright." He brought out an apple and angled his body to look smaller. "I've got a nice treat for you. Easy…"

The horse shied away, taking several steps back with a snort. Lassiter continued to walk forward, keeping his movements as gentle as his tone. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to give you a nice tasty apple."

Shawn watched in fascination as the horse slowly let down its guard. Who would have guessed that Lassiter was a horse person?

The horse finally settled enough to take the apple from the officer, and Lassiter stood by its shoulder, patting its neck. "There's a good boy…" He pitched his voice just slightly louder as he said, "It's the father's horse. If we track where it came from, we'll find him."

"How do you know it's not the girl's?" Gus asked.

"Stirrups are set for an adult." Lassiter slowly gathered the reins as he brought out another apple. "Come on, boy. We'll get you checked out too, once we find him."

Shawn scanned the surrounding area, noting a pile of dung and a few bent branches. "He came from that way."

"Let's go." Lassiter grabbed his radio set and reported their location as Shawn led the way. A broken twig here, a partial hoofprint there… The trail was faint, but clear.

Lassiter finished his report and a voice crackled over the radio. The message was too garbled to understand, but the words 'brown-noser' and 'slave' were easy to pick out. Lassiter' tone was sharp as he answered back, "I don't give a flying fuck if you didn't want to work with us, we're on the trail of the victim and he's going to need medical. So do your goddamn jobs or I'll report you to the chief."

Gus glanced over, and Shawn acknowledged the look with a grimace. Sometimes he hated being right.

Would the cops' disdain cause Lassiter to turn on them, or would he stick to his principles?

"Idiots," Lassiter grumbled. "We're here to serve justice, not to posture like peacocks in heat."

"Technically, they have a mating season," Gus corrected. "They don't go in heat."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I don't care."

Nothing else was said until the trail ended at a pair of boots sticking out from a scraggly bush. Shawn jogged forward and his heart froze when he saw the ground covered in blood.

He'd promised the little girl. She wasn't supposed to go through what he did. Did she have any other family? Would she have to go into the system? Would she… Oh god.

She was too young. Too innocent. Already so scared.

"...awn. Shawn!"

Shawn blinked, his master's voice filtering through the rushing in his ears. "Yes, sir."

"...Shit. Hey, he's still breathing. It'd be good if you did too."

The man was still breathing? How? Shawn's gaze inched up past the blood to the dirt-covered shirt. And watched as it just barely rose and fell. Shawn's chest followed suit as he became aware of the world again.

There was so much blood, but most of it was soaked into the jacket tied around the man's leg. He'd been able to treat himself before he passed out. Shawn still couldn't slow his pounding heart as his brain tried to insist that he was staring at a corpse.

Lassiter finished reporting on his radio and snapped out at Gus, "What the hell was that?"

"None of your business," Gus snapped back. "We need to get this man to a hospital."

"No. We need to wait for the EMS. For all we know he's got a broken back."

"So what, we're just supposed to sit here and wait?"

"We sit here and make sure that man keeps breathing while we wait. Now, what was that?"

"Nothing."

Lassiter already had enough reasons to not like them. Shawn had to be good. "S-Sorry, sir. Vision. I saw what happened. The bear, the horse running, the man falling off, the blood…"

Lassiter sighed. "Just make sure it doesn't happen in front of a perp."

"Yes, sir."

Gus shot a worried look over, and Shawn nodded in reassurance as he took another deep breath. It was ok. The girl's father was alive; she would be safe.

He'd kept his promise.

Shawn's panic wasn't brought up again until they were safe in the dorm room. They sat in silence on their beds for several minutes before Gus finally asked, "Need to talk about it?"

"I'm ok."

"That's not what I asked."

Shawn sighed; he didn't want to talk about it. But the image of the seemingly-dead father wouldn't get out of his head. "Maybe."

"Ok…" Gus studied him before asking, "Was it because it was her father, or because of the promise?"

"Both," Shawn admitted.

"It reminded you of your father?"

"Yeah…" Shawn's hand automatically reached for his basket, and he grabbed the first thing he felt. The edges of the sketchbook rifled through his fingers as he quietly added, "She reminded me of me…"

"...I'm sorry."

Shawn nodded in acknowledgement; it wasn't exactly a problem that could be talked away. His stomach dropped as he remembered the fear of finding the corpse. He took a deep breath and tried to bury it under a new imagination of the girl hugging her father in his hospital bed. She'd be alright. "It worked out. She didn't have to be like me."

Gus' voice was gentle as he said, "She was lucky to have you."

Shawn's throat tightened and he opened the sketchbook. He needed a distraction. He needed to not think about how there hadn't been anyone there for him.

The book fell open to a page covered in writing. The void gaped in his chest, aching through his soul. His dad hadn't had anyone either…

Shawn hadn't been able to read much about grief; anytime the word came up it sent ice through his veins. But even with those few glances, he'd seen that talking about the person he'd lost was important. Even just writing about it was supposed to do something.

The pressure from the void grew; it was too much. His mouth talked for him. "Dad was a hardass. He worked hard to be perfect, and he expected everyone else to do the same. We started to fight, a lot, in the last year or so because of it…"

It didn't feel right. He wanted his dad's memory to show the hero he was. But ignoring the other parts meant he wasn't remembering his real dad.

"I think I've heard you use the words 'detailed-obsessed fanatic'?" Gus asked.

"Yeah," Shawn said with a small smile. The emptiness lost a bit of its edge. Even with Gus' not-perfect memory, he'd remembered that. "It helped me survive; helped me stay me. But a twelve year old doesn't really get that."

"Twelve year olds don't get a lot of stuff."

"He was also smart, though I'd never tell him that. No matter what stupid thing I got myself into, he always had something to teach me about it. He always knew the right thing to do…"

Had running back into the burning building been the right thing to do?

Gus hesitated before gently answering, "He sounds like a good man. And from what you've told me before… I think he would have been proud of you."

Shawn scoffed. "Yeah, that's not how he worked."

"Maybe. But…" Gus shrugged, looking like he wasn't sure if he was saying the right thing. "You saved that man today. Who knows if the cops would have found him without you. And that saved the girl too. Just like your dad saved his partner and that slave."

The pressure became overwhelming, and tears dripped down Shawn's cheeks. Gus slowly sat next to him and clasped his shoulder. "It's ok. You can let it out."

Shawn's breath hitched in silent sobs as the tears continued to fall. He squeezed his eyes closed, leaning into the solid comfort of his friend. The ache slowly softened as they weathered the storm together.