Work Text:
Shawn's head hurt like hell, his shoulder burned, his legs ached. The ropes bit into his skin, gnawing their way to his bones. Shadows danced around in the garage, the two men whispering away in the dim light of the gas station. His vision blurred, the light searing into his retinas.
Duct tape not only covered his mouth, but it held the oil-stained rag to his shoulder, the flannel he was wearing tattered and torn beyond wearability. He could barely open his eyes, the faint light overwhelming his senses.
His phone was around here somewhere, he just has to figure out where it was.
Shawn never really believed in a higher power, but he prayed that Henry and Lassiter would be able to find him, and that Gus forgave him.
-
Shawn knew it was a miracle that he was still standing, or even conscious. His legs felt like jello, the sun way too bright, his shoulder burning, still covered with the dirty rag. Henry was talking, faintly, so was Lassiter; all Shawn could hear was the blood rushing around his ears. Gus was just trying to hold Shawn up.
The world began to spin, Shawn could barely keep track of what was happening around him. His legs gave out beneath him; Gus yelped sharply, ringing deep within his ears.
Blue spun in his whole vision, a rough, solid surface poked through his thin flannel. His wound continued to burn. Shawn closed his eyes, the light becoming to bright.
“Come on Shawn, you can’t go boneless on me now. You’ve stayed standing that long, you can’t give up now.” Everything felt muffled, faintly, he could feel that someone was trying to pull him up. The voice felt familiar and comforting, Shawn could trust the person with his life.
“Shawn, listen to me. The ambulance will be here soon, you just need to stay awake. When the ambulance gets here, then you can go to sleep.”
Shawn wanted to protest that he was awake, but his eyes just wouldn’t open. He floated. Sirens echoed in the distance. More and more voices overlapped, becoming the everything bagel of soup in his head.
“Spencer, you made it this far, you can make it past this.”
Shawn opened his eyes, his head now elevated, Gus looking down at him concerned. There was a heavier pressure on his shoulder now. He met Gus’ eyes, the wide-eyed expression peering down at Shawn. One of his hands was combing through Shawn's short, dirty hair; Shawn knew that Gus would take care of him, he didn’t have to worry now.
He solved the case didn’t he? He could rest now, Lassie got the bad guy, and Gus was next to him.
His eyelids fell, not even Gus shaking him could wake him up. The shrill sirens sounded erupting Shawn’s ear drums. Yelling exploded his brain, yet not preventing the darkness from kidnapping him.
Distantly, Shawn could feel his body move in a way that he didn’t command it too, yet he was powerless. He let the darkness swallow him, no longer hearing anything.
-
The hospital was blindingly bright, the burning smell of antiseptic and cleaners intertwining to one, depressingly familiar place. Gus sat next to Shawn, all attempts of even trying to do a little work abandoned. His leg was bouncing uncontrollably, and in the back of his head, a little voice wondered if this is how Shawn feels when not doing a case: too hopped up to do anything, but feeling worthless if he isn’t doing anything.
The monitors beeped around him, letting Gus know that he was still alive.
It didn’t matter what the machines said; it felt off for Shawn to still. No matter what, Shawn was usually in motion in some way: shifting around, bouncing his feet, tapping his fingers, anything. Even when he slept, he never stayed still. It unsettled Gus to the bone, making him watch the steady rise and fall of Shawn's chest.
The wound itself had gotten infected. Nothing they done could’ve prevented it, between the bullet still being lodged in there and the dirty rag being pressed against it. They were just lucky to catch it early, before it festered any farther.
Henry stayed through the worst of it, only leaving when they knew that Shawn was mostly out of the woods. Juliet and Lassiter have come around multiple times as well, lingering for as long as they could before duty called them back. O’Hara came by once to assure that the entirety of the hospital stay would be compensated by the department, unable to say anything else, on behalf of the department or herself.
Abigail came by as much as her job allowed her too, staying as long as she could without being shoved out by the nurses; she looked at Gus with disdain when he was able to stay, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn put him as his emergency contact.
It just felt awkward when she walked into the room, like she didn’t truly belong there. Gus couldn’t believe that Shawn pretended that Juliet was his girlfriend, and (even if Gus shipped Juliet with Shawn more) that he probably won’t tell Abigail what happened. None of it really felt right to Gus. The poor girl didn’t deserve to be led on.
Gus cast his eyes over Shawn's face. Shadows casted themselves over his face, making him look more skeletal than he was. Shawn had been here for a little less than two days, yet the shell of the man that Gus knew so well. Gus slowly reached out his hand, wrapping it around Shawn’s.
He couldn’t help but squeeze it a few times, reassuring himself that Shawn was truly there.
Gus lingered in the quiet for a little longer, too afraid to leave. Not that he was planning to leave soon, but the reassurance that Shawn was there and not a ghost was in the bed.
A faint squeezing drew Gus’ attention to Shawn's hand, him watching it squeeze around his. His fingers twitched and moved around Gus’ hand.
Gus immediately snapped up, keeping his hand interlocked with Shawn's. He studied his face, waiting for anything else to happen. Shawn’s eyelids began to flutter, the heart monitor began to pick up.
He held his breath, waiting till Shawn fully opened his eyes.
“Gus, don’t have a chick-flick moment, I haven’t died yet. You probably haven’t even prepared a speech for my funeral.”
Shawn’s voice was rough from disuse, already making jokes. Gus was so happy that he could’ve cried, if he didn’t want to stay strong for Shawn.
Shawn was already smiling, looking smug that he made the joke as his first returning words. He tried to get up, but Gus prevented him, launching them into bickering.
It didn’t matter what had to be talked about later; right now, all that mattered was that Shawn was here, moving and alive, and Gus wasn’t going to look past that now.