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Lassie had kicked him out. Legit told him to scram because he didn’t want Shawn to see him the way he was, which was bullshit. Sickness and health, is what they promised each other, along side a lot of other stupid stuff. Shawn had made sure to include that Lassie had to share all french fries he ever had for the rest of eternity with him.
He tried to follow all the stuff they promised, but most often white lies turned convoluted. Sneaking and solving was something that he couldn’t stop if he wanted. He sure as hell knew that Lassie was hiding some fries from him. And that was all fine and good, but would be scrambled and covered in shredded cheese before he skipped on that vow.
Jules let it slip that Lassie was seeing things, and the possibility that it might be real. Even if his adorable and paranoid mind was getting him worked up, Shawn wasn't going to leave it up to chance. If there was someone looking to hurt his love bug, then Shawn’d be there to keep him safe.
In the dead of night, with the help of his jackal, Shawn and Gus snuck into the recovery center. With the recon from Woody, he knew where he’d be. Gus snuck on his own to hunt down some goodies and sweet treats for their little sleepover.
Keeping his back to the wall, Shawn found Lassie’s room, larger than most of his apartments.
There he was, sound asleep under the covers. He could tell he was still physically impaired just from the way he was laying. When they slept together in their bed, before the stroke and the ridiculous amount of bullets, Lassie would curl up on his side, hand under his pillow in easy reach of his hand gun tapped to the back of the headboard.
He looked so fragile, so soft. He was used to constant scowl that seemed permanently etched on the man. Now, with half of his face slightly drooping, he looked… He was still the handsome man he fell in love with, just a little different.
Shawn pulled the chair over to the edge of his bed. Taking his hand in his, Shawn just took him in. It felt like too long since he was able to look at his Lassie. His heart was betraying him, making his throat burn and eyes water.
He stared at the hand clasped in his, curling into Shawn’s in his sleep. When he looked up, Shawn met Lassie’s eyes.
“Lass,” Shawn whispered, trying not to break the spell.
But he looked without seeing, past him.
“Pop,” Lassie said. “Pop, I can’t.”
Lassie never talked about his father. Never. He barely talked about his mother. Shawn had to go behind his back and meet her and her partner. But he never talked about his father.
Shawn waved his hand in Lassie’s eyeline. Nothing, not even a spark of recognition.
“I think I’m done. I’m not good to anyone like this. I can’t think straight,” If Lassie was within, Shawn would’ve joked that he never thought straight, especially when he was rocking his world on a weekly basis for the past handful of years. “I can’t walk. I’m just so tired, Pop.”
Lassie looked past him, listening to his father for a moment before muttering about being tired again, and then his eyes slipped close.
He knew he couldn’t hear him, but it's not like Lassie would listen to him even if he could.
“Babe, so much of your identity is tied up with your job, and that’s not a bad thing. You’re good at your job. You do good. But you’re so much more than that. Your body might be recovering but you’re still the stubborn jackass I fell in love with and this thing isn’t gonna change between us because you have a harder time doing the horizontal tango or you have to fist bump me with your other hand.”
One side of Lassie’s face perked up into a small half smile as he finished. Shawn squeezed his hand. Suddenly, something struck him.
Shawn had gotten a glance at the medications Lassie was on and with the info he had from the afternoon he got bored and flipped through Gus’ old textbooks. None of the meds he was on caused hallucinations, and guessing from the little gnome Shawn saw dancing in the corner, something was in the water.