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Rating: T
Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Family, Romance, Suspense
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Notes: This was a response to a challenge over at Psychfic. It won the Silver Pineapple for Best Whump (the Boo Boo Award) in the 2008 Psychfic Awards. Also cross-posted at FanFiction.net. (Although I have cleaned it up slightly... mainly just correcting grammatical errors. Nothing too earth-shattering.) Does contain Shules (Shawn/Juliet).
Summary: Shawn's having a really bad day. And it keeps getting worse.
( Part 1 ) | ( Part 2 ) | ( Part 3 ) | ( Part 4 ) | ( Part 5 )
Silence fell over the group for a long moment. Finally Lassiter weakly said, “And Spencer? Was he - in -?”
Vick smiled faintly. “There were no remains found in the trunk - that was the first place the officers looked.” The hard look on Lassiter’s face softened slightly, and Juliet’s shoulders slumped in relief. “But there were two people riding up front. Their bodies were burned beyond recognition, so ID won’t be confirmed until the DNA results are in,” Vick added, her tone grim.
“Shawn wasn’t with them,” Henry said quietly but confidently. He stared at each of them fiercely. “They were gone long enough to make me think they dropped him off somewhere. Besides, any self-respecting kidnapper would realize in thirty seconds that Shawn is much easier to deal with if he’s out of sight rather than in the seat next to them,” he added with a slight smirk.
Lassiter chuckled wryly. “That’s the truth,” he muttered.
“But that means we have a new problem,” O’Hara broke in.
The others nodded. “We have no idea where they could’ve hidden Shawn,” Vick finished.
Henry cast a dark glance at O’Riley through the one-way mirror. He watched as the man quietly talked with his lawyer. “He probably does,” he growled fiercely.
O’Hara’s shoulders suddenly stiffened, and she strode forward, yanked the door open, then walked in and slammed it shut behind her. The leftover trio stared at each other in shock for a beat, then hastened to the mirror. They watched in silent astonishment as Juliet leaned on the table, much like Lassiter had earlier. The room was silent for a moment. “I thought we were done with this ridiculous questioning,” O’Riley’s lawyer finally said coolly.
Juliet shot him an icy glare. “Your brother’s dead,” she declared calmly, looking back at O’Riley.
Lance O’Riley’s face paled visibly. “Wh-what?” he stammered weakly.
“This is beyond low, detective,” the lawyer cut in harshly.
“Do you think I would lie about something like this?” O’Hara shot back. Both men looked visibly surprised at her brusqueness.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this!” Vick whispered softly in shock, staring at the normally-sweet woman on the other side of the glass.
“I didn’t think she had it in her,” Lassiter agreed, looking just as shocked at his partner’s tone.
“Normally I would say I’m sorry for your loss,” O’Hara continued tensely. “But these aren’t normal circumstances. Your brother kidnapped a good friend of mine, O’Riley, and I think you know where he could be.”
“I thought you said he was with my brother,” O’Riley replied, blinking fiercely.
“He was - we think your brother hid him somewhere around the area,” Juliet told him. “So I need you to tell me any acquaintances your brother had around the area.”
“My client already told you-”
“If you tell me what I want to know, I promise you’ll be able to go to your brother’s funeral,” Juliet continued in a softer tone, keeping eye contact with O’Riley and ignoring his lawyer. Her face softened into an almost pitiful look as she locked eyes with the teary-eyed man. “You have my word.”
“Can she do that?” Henry and Lassiter whispered together, glancing at Vick.
Karen smiled faintly. “If this works, I'll pull some strings,” she murmured back.
O’Riley took a deep, shuddering breath. “I wasn’t completely lying,” he finally choked out. “My brother and I haven’t been all that close lately.”
“Lance, I wouldn’t-”
“Shut up!” Lance snapped at his lawyer. “It’s not like I’m confessing to a murder or something! He was my big brother! He was all the family I had left!” he finished in a croak, tears beginning to flow freely down his face.
O’Hara tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on O’Riley’s arm. Her voice barely came out above a whisper when she said, “Now I really am sorry for your loss.”
O’Riley's eyes searched her face; then he sighed. “I was telling the truth when I said Vince and I hadn’t talked in two years. We kinda lost touch when we were both in prison. But when we were younger, we were pretty close. We grew up not too far from here, actually. Our parents died when I was ten. Vince was fifteen. We hopped around for a little while, but Vince got into some trouble one night, and he was charged with murder. We always kinda both had tempers.” He snorted humorlessly. “I guess you probably knew that from our rap sheets, huh?”
Juliet nodded once. “Do you have any idea where Vince could’ve taken Sh - the hostage, I mean? Any family friends in the area, or old haunts?” she asked.
O’Riley’s wiped his face with his cuffed hands. “Well, there was this guy he used to hang out with when we were kids. His name was Buck somethin’ or other. I don’t really remember. But I remember Vin used to talk about heading up to Buck’s farm to hang out - he never let me come. Told me it was too dangerous. So I don’t know where it is,” he said, a hint of regret in his tone. “And that’s the honest truth. I don’t even know if Buck lives around here anymore.”
“I believe you,” Juliet told him. “Anyone else?”
O’Riley thought for a moment. “I don’t think so - most of the guys we hung out with when we were younger are dead or in the pen,” he said finally, shrugging.
“Okay, thanks. If you think of any else, make sure you let us know, okay? I think you’ll probably be transferred back to the prison for the rest of the day,” Juliet told him, straightening. She smiled faintly, then turned and headed out of the door.
The others stared at her. She looked at them apprehensively. “Did I do alright?” she squeaked out.
“You did great, O’Hara,” Vick reassured her. “It’s your info - you wanna run with it?”
“I’ll get right on it, Chief,” Juliet affirmed, grinning and rushing down the hall.
Vick glanced over his shoulder as Lassiter sighed. “It’s not much to run with,” he told her when she raised an eyebrow.
Vick smiled. “I thought you knew your partner better than that, Carlton.”
Henry smirked in agreement. “She’ll track down this Buck guy with all she’s got,” he declared, folding his arms.
“What makes you say that?” Lassiter wondered.
“Just because, Carlton,” Vick said knowingly, heading for the stairs.
*****
The first thing Shawn Spencer was aware of was the faint smell of ammonia, coppery rain, and something else his foggy mind couldn’t quite place. He could also feel something wet on his legs. Great. Mom’s gonna have to wash my sheets, he thought sluggishly. That hasn’t happened since I was three.
Then nearly twenty year’s worth of memories came back to him, and his eyes popped open as he thought, Wait a sec, that’s not right!
His gaze flicked upward. High above him, he could see little slivers of gray light filtering in through gaps in the wooden cover. He blinked as a drop of water splashed onto his face. He stayed in that position for several minutes, struggling to get his bearings.
Eventually he became aware of different points of throbbing pain. A headache beat a steady rhythm against the back of his eyeballs, and needles of pain radiated up from his right leg and his right shoulder. His arms were still securely fastened behind his back, and the tape was still over his mouth, severely limiting his breathing. Up and at ‘em, he thought grimly, tensing his waist to shove himself up.
Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead as the slight twisting movement caused the needles in his leg to become white-hot knives. He relaxed his body again, his vision nearly going white because of the pain. Another two drops of water splashed on his cheek. After a few long moments, he craned his head down to look at what was wrong.
Crap, I think I’m gonna puke.
For a long moment, Shawn just stared in horror at his leg. In the dim light from above, he could make out his blood soaked leg. Somehow a foot long piece of scrap metal three inches wide had pierced through the outer edge of his thigh. Miraculously, it seemed to have missed any major arteries, but the blood-soaked jeans and the reddish-colored dirt underneath him were not good signs. Shawn took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Alright, Spencer, think, he told himself, jerking his head slightly in annoyance as another drop of water collided with his face.
He couldn’t take the metal out for two reasons. One, that was just a plain bad idea - he could do a lot more damage to his leg. Two, there was the problem of his hands being bound behind him. He could barely wiggle his fingers because his hands were so numb, and he was fairly certain his right shoulder was dislocated in the very least, judging by the sharp pains coming from it.
Shawn squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a few deep breaths. This gag has got to come off, he thought vaguely. Another drop of water came down, continuously adding to his irritation. He could barely breathe through his nose, especially since his face was half-squashed in some foul-smelling mud. Plus, he was working extremely hard not to throw up. If he puked, he’d probably choke to death on his own vomit. And that is such a pleasant thought…
He forced his eyes open again. This time his eyes adjusted much quicker, and for the first time he was able to make out some of the junk that was scattered on the bottom of the cistern. Six inches in front of his face was an old plank of wood with a few rusted, bent nails sticking out of it. The shattered remains of a cinder block were nearby, and there was a three-foot-long piece of pipe that had been corroded away at one end. Yeesh, this place is a junk hole. Just great, Shawn thought with annoyance. Another drip, this time on his nose. Shawn rolled his eyes and braced himself for pain.
He slowly stretched his arms out behind him, sucking in a few breaths through his nose as pain shot up from his arm. Please, please, let there just be something, he silently pleaded. This day has already been bad enough.
He gradually became aware of something poking his hand. His clumsy fingers poked and prodded at something sharp embedded in the dirt. That’s probably going to hurt a lot later, Shawn thought as dull twinges of pain began registering in his mind, heedless of yet another drip of water.
Grunting softly, he moved slightly so he could get better access at the sharp object. His eyes stung with tears and he had to fight back pain-induced waves of nausea as his right leg was bumped. Shawn clumsily moved his arms, trying to get the tape to rub against the object. He winced as he felt it dig into his forearm. That wasn’t right, he thought, doing some more adjusting.
After a moment, he was greeted with the soft sound of the tape being torn slightly. He slowly pushed his body up, using his hips and his good leg to get his upper torso to move straight. After a few agonizing moments, he felt the unmistakable tingle of blood rushing back into his hands. With one slight jerk, his hands parted. Shawn closed his eyes in relief, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers, trying to get them to work properly again.
Finally he slowly brought his left arm over his body and in front of him. He winced when he saw the deep cuts on his fingers and the slash across the back of his hand. Pieces of tape were still wrapped around his wrist, and he had blood trickling down the inside of it. A water drop splashed down on the back of his hand, trickling into the cut. Bracing himself, he reached up and yanked the duct tape off his face. He crumpled up the tape into a sticky ball as he flexed his jaw, his face stinging. “I don’t think I’ll need to shave for like a year now,” he murmured croakily, his throat dry.
After several long minutes. Shawn placed his left palm flat on the ground. “One… two… three!” he groaned, pushing himself up. He bit back a scream of pain as his leg felt like it practically exploded, instead forcing himself to sit relatively upright. His vision started swimming again, and bile began to rise in the back of this throat. Shawn gritted his teeth, breathing deeply, struggling to stay conscious.
Eventually, the pain subsided enough to the point that he could open his eyes again. He brought his hands forward so he could look more closely at his arms, ignoring the pain that spiked through his right shoulder. Underneath all of the mud, he could see blood flowing from a long gash on his right forearm. “That’s just perfect,” Shawn hissed, gently wiping away the mud to get a better look at the wound.
It was around four inches long, running from just above his wrist up until about his elbow. Looking around, Shawn picked up a loose piece of metal, then pulled up the T-shirt he was wearing so that he could get at a slightly cleaner piece of his undershirt. “That’ll have to do for now,” he muttered, using the dirty fabric to wrap up his arm as best as he could.
He shot a disgusted look down at his limp, useless leg before looking up at the sides of the cistern. It appeared that, at one time, the sides of the pit had been well packed. Now pieces of it had crumbled away, making the wall look pock-marked in the dim light. Water trickled in a steady stream down one side of the well, and drips of water slipped in through the cracks of the wooden cover. Now that he was more alert, Shawn could hear the steady rhythm of the rain falling against the cover. “Time to get out,” he muttered to himself, trying not to stare up at the nearly impossible-to-overcome height.
Steeling himself, he used the left side of his body to drag himself over to the nearest side of the cistern, raising his right leg up slightly so that the metal wouldn’t drag along the ground. Shawn peered up at a nearby handhold. He took a deep breath, released it slowly, then tucked his left leg in and reached up with his left hand to try to pull himself up with the handhold.
He got about halfway up to standing when the dirt beneath his fingers crumbled.
Shawn landed back on the ground harshly. The metal in his leg was jostled enough so that it slid back into his leg half an inch. Shawn couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Up on top of the dilapidated barn, a sparrow was startled out of its peaceful reverie when an ear-shattering scream split the silence.
Shawn rested his head back against the muddy wall, gulping down air, working his hardest not to throw up. He held back a sob, trying not to let despair overwhelm him. There was no way he could stand up straight, let alone climb up a vertical wall for twenty feet.
He was trapped.
( Part 7 )
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(But it'll get better... trust me. It just might take awhile. ^_^)
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Go Jules!
I have a huge crush on Lassiter. Your fault :)
I'm loving this story, and I'm so glad I gave it a go.
But the thing is, you wrote it, so I knew I would enjoy it, even though I'd never seen the show.
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Jules rocks.
And how can you not have a crush on Lassiter? He's pretty much awesomesauce. (I personally like Shawn better, but Lassie's not bad. If you haven't, you should watch the beginning of the season 3 ep "Lassie did a bad, bad thing" - I think you'll like his first scene in the show. ;)
And I'm glad you're enjoying it. Your confidence in my writing is beyond inspiring. Really, it is. I'm so glad to hear that people like my stories, even if they don't completely understand the context of it. ^_^
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But Shawn and Gus were great in this ep. Gus's stealth mode. *snicker*
Shawn's, 'lather, rinse, and then repeat.'
And then the big brother thing, and Gus's little shake of the head.
I am so glad you got me onto this show. Love the entire thing. Shawn, Gus, Henry, Juliet, Chief Vick ... and of course ... Lassie :)
Awesomesauce - I like that term.
I think you're a wonderful writer, and now knowing how young you are ... makes it even more so.
It's the reason I read the story without watching the show - your writing!
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Everyone is so awesome sauce. Personally, my favorite line from that ep was probably the "Thundercats" bit. So awesome.
And thanks! *blushes* I'll definitely keep writing, even if it was only for you. :)
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I love 'Psy v's Psy'. The interaction between Lassiter and Special Agent Lars Ewing, cracked me up. I couldn't stop laughing. Lou Diamond Phillips was hilarious.
I love all the eps. Love the show. Love the characters. And I know I keep repeating myself, but, !thank you! for getting me into this show.
'Thundercats'. It was awesome :)
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Anyway, I thought I'd mention I know Whitworth quite well, good school. Also, I'm a HUGE fan of Psych and I'm REALLY into this story.
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(And I'm glad you like this story. That's always great to hear as well.)
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