Chapter Text
Ever since the day in the conference room where everyone had seen the secret side to Shawn, they’d all been watching, trying to figure out his tells like they were about to gamble alongside him. Gus and his vault of secrets, unfortunately, would not share much with them. He refused to outright give them the answers and he was just as good at sliding up a mask, when it came to Shawn’s well-being at least, as Shawn always was.
Searching every plane of Shawn’s face and the twiddle of his thumbs hadn’t earned anyone any more clues, yet they still managed to be surprised when his next vulnerability slipped out.
They’d been to hospitals millions of times on cases. Shawn had been with them and had never so much as flinched at the antiseptic stench or cringed towards the CODE BLUES numbly called across speakers. Even when the Thornburg virus had been a concern, Shawn was laissez faire about the whole thing, minus when Juliet was exposed.
So it was plainly obvious when Shawn wouldn’t so much as step a foot inside. More than that, it was unsettling.
“Spencer, what the hell is going on here?” Lassiter snapped after the third time Shawn faked an invisible wall in the doorway of the hospital.
“Well, Lass-a-frass, someone clearly put a wall here against psychics and I just can’t come in. Not today. Sorry! Guess you’ll have to do your job without me.”
“Oh, I wish you said that more often,” Lassiter grumbled, but he shook his head anyway. “Get your ass inside. We have a victim to speak with and she specifically asked for you, for some reason.”
Shawn’s eyes jumped to Gus who had been standing behind him the entire ordeal. Everyone saw it, Juliet even squinted her eyes, trying to read the silent discussion the pair had in a single glance. She got nothing.
“Yeah, sorry, man. If Shawn can’t get past the barrier it’ll have to just wait. Maybe we can do it over FaceTime?”
“Wonderful idea, Gus!” Shawn crowed and stepped back, in line with his friend.
“We can’t do it —- you’re being ridiculous, Spencer!” Lassiter argued and he reached out and tugged the psychic over the ‘invisible boundary’. “See you’re just—“ the final word, fine, was cut from the detective's sentence as Shawn was thrown forward and fell, belly flopping to the floor.
Lassiter instantly felt guilty, but he knew he hadn’t pulled nearly hard enough, and assumed it was more of Shawn’s shenanigans. He didn’t get a chance to comment on that theory, though, as Shawn rolled to his back and began gasping, gripping at his chest like he’d been stabbed.
“Shit, Shawn!” Gus cried and leapt forward, hitting his knees against the shiny, speckled floor with a hollow sounding thump.
“Shawn??” Juliet warbled, dropping down beside Gus who was quickly unbuttoning his friend’s pineapple themed button up. One he knew he’d taken from Gus, betting he could wear it ‘better.’ “What’s wrong??”
Shawn’s fingers scrabbled against Gus’ hands weakly as he continued to gasp and gape like all the oxygen had been yanked from the room.
“It’s okay. It’s alright, Shawn,” Gus shushed as he revealed a thick scar running down Shawn’s chest, faded with age, but bruised in colors Juliet had only seen in crime scene photos.
“What the hell?” Lassiter asked, eyes honing in hard on the trail of color that swirled down from Shawn’s sternum to his abdomen, the splotches still jaggedd the edges despite the slight yellowing that proved they weren’t fresh.
Gus ran his fingers around the edges, palpating until he moved towards the center. He dug into the scar slightly, working the tissue as Shawn let out a pained sound. “I know. You’re alright. You have to breathe, Shawn. You have to breathe for me.”
By this point, a few nurses and a security guard had begun hovering around, trying to determine if the small group was a threat or in need of medical triage. Shawn grasped at Gus’ wrist and flicked his eyes towards the nearing crowd, drawing a clear line from himself to them.
Clear enough both detectives could read his ask from a mile away.
“We’re fine here, thank you!” Juliet called, hand flapping to wave away the nurses drawing closer. She dropped her voice low, hurriedly whispering to Gus, “We are fine, right?”
Gus nodded slightly, too busy catching Shawn’s eyes with his own to speak with her properly, “Breathe. I do not want to have to do chest compressions again. It is not fun listening to your ribs crack.”
Shawn, breathless and still trying desperately to uphold some flimsy mask despite the circumstances, replied “Not nearly as fun as barbecue ribs.”
“No, they’re not.” Gus agreed, keeping Shawn’s gaze steady on him as his hands rubbed at Shawn’s chest, subtly feeling his heartbeat as he coaxed his friend physically to focus and breathe. As seconds ticked past, Shawn slowly managed to catch his breath again.
Once he was only heavily panting, but at least in consistent cycles, he smirked at Gus, his clown makeup fully back in place, “Y’know, Gusaroo, if you wanted me naked you could’ve just asked.”
Gus huffed and he stood up, offering a hand to his friend who took it, holding on a bit too tight if anyone was to look close enough. (And they all were.) “I do not need to see you naked again. It’s happened too many times already.”
“What was the limit? Thirteen?” Shawn asked, leaning briefly against Gus before he stood, trembling fingers trying to redo the buttons on his shirt.
“One, Shawn, one was the limit.”
“Ah, so you were cool seeing me naked at least once!” He delighted, buttoning some of his shirt wrong but moving on anyway.
Lassiter cut them off just then, sick of the banter. “What the hell just happened? And what was the scar?”
“And the bruises?? Did you seriously get CPR?” Juliet added.
Shawn swung his gaze between the two of them, his breathing still a bit labored, “Guys, don’t we have a victim to get to?” He had no intention of going further inside the hospital, but he hoped that reminding Lassiter and Juliet of the victim upstairs would distract them enough for an escape.
“Spencer,” Lassiter growled, eyes hard and squinched in a way Shawn would happily memorize and try to copy later at his expense.
“Psychic energy! I tried to tell you,” He smoothly covered, shoving his hands into his pockets in a way that was too casual to be for any reason other than hiding them, “You pulled me right on through and it was overwhelming!”
“That doesn’t explain the scar or the bruises, Shawn…” Juliet reminded him softly, eyes shining with worry.
“Ah, you know how it is. Sometimes you and your buddy don’t have a CPR dummy around and one of you needs a recertification. We all have to make sacrifices for the greater good, Jules.” Shawn tried again, quietly scuttling backwards as if no one would notice.
“Where the hell are you going?” Lassiter asked, upping his curse count another point. Shawn considered making the swear jar joke, but it wasn’t as funny without a prop. He’d have to pick one up before the next time he saw Lassie.
“Well, that was a huge wave of energy and all. So I should really go… take a break!” Shawn replied and suddenly he was back out the front door, the automation causing them to slide quietly shut behind him.
“Guster, you better explain, now.” Lassiter spoke in steel bars, eyes cold as they met Gus’.
Gus looked between the two, turned his head to look at the retreating form of his friend who he could tell was back to panting, and then returned to the detectives in front of them. “It’s…not really my story to tell.”
“Is he in danger?” Juliet asked, open and trying. She knew Gus would crack if it came to keeping Shawn safe.
He sighed, rubbing his head in a nervous stim he’d picked up from Shawn’s stupid hair mussing. “If he stays in this hospital he could be.”
“Okay.. He can go home. But we need more, Gus… Those bruises were… bad..” Juliet said, stricken, face pale like she’d seen a ghost.
“He wasn’t really joking about the CPR….” Gus mumbled and then, following suit, turned and jogged out after Shawn who was leaning on the blueberry, pretending to be nonchalant.
The detectives both looked aghast at one another. Before either could speak, Juliet pulled out her phone and called Chief Vick.