Ya Had a Bad Day (8/12)

[moogsthewriter]

Title: Ya Had a Bad Day
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 ) | ( Part 6 ) | ( Part 7 )

 

“I just can’t believe that Buck would’ve done something like that!” Lauretta Erickson said through her sobs when Lassiter was done informing her of the basics of what had happened. Juliet put a comforting arm around the woman’s thin shoulders as Lauretta blew her nose into a Kleenex. Rick stared ahead in silent shock, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Ever since he got arrested for Mary Anne’s death, he’s worked so hard at keeping his temper down!”

“What exactly happened when he was sixteen?” Gus asked kindly, offering her another Kleenex. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he added hastily when Juliet shot him a look that practically screamed, How could you be so insensitive?

“No, no, it’s alright,” Lauretta reassured him in a trembling voice. She took a few deep breaths before continuing, “He and Vince were at a party. Mary Anne was Buck’s girlfriend, but Vince caught her with some other guy and attacked her. Buck didn’t really even know what was going on until he found Vin covered in her blood. He was so traumatized from that experience,” she finished in a murmur. She locked her watery brown eyes with Lassiter’s cold blue ones. “He’s really not a bad man, Detective. I don’t know why he would’ve done something like this!”

Lassiter kept his expression carefully neutral as he jotted down a few notes. “Can you tell me when O’Riley called your brother?” he asked.

“It was around seven or so this morning,” Lauretta told him, her voice sounding a little stronger. “I told him he shouldn’t go - he didn’t even know what Vin really needed him for - but Buck said it had something to do with Lance, Vin’s little brother, so he had to help.”

“Ma’am, were you and your brother aware that Lance was on trial?” Vick asked, her tone a little softer than normal.

Lauretta’s grew wide. “No, I wasn’t. I haven’t been getting the paper lately, and the TV’s broken,” she explained breathlessly. “Lance was on trial?”

“For a triple murder,” Lassiter confirmed. He ignored O’Hara’s scandalized look.

“I had no idea - neither did Buck, I’m sure of it,” the distraught woman said, her eyes welling again.

“Ma’am, we need you to help us. O’Riley kidnapped my son as a hostage to exchange for his brother. We think since Buck was driving, he took him somewhere he knew. Do you have any idea where they might’ve gone?” Henry asked, his voice tight.

Rick’s head suddenly jerked to attention. “I might. Hold on, I need to grab something,” he declared, grabbing his crutches and quickly hobbling down the hall. They all stared in surprise.

Lauretta sniffed. “This is going to be hard for him. Buck was like a father to him,” she murmured. Her eyes shot to a picture on the mantel. Their eyes all followed to a snapshot of a young man in a Marine uniform. “My husband died shortly after Rick turned five. Buck practically raised him. If it hadn’t been for him, I don’t know-” She shakily grabbed another Kleenex from the box as her voice choked up. Juliet stared at her with sad eyes, and even Lassiter looked rather uncomfortable with the situation.

They looked up as Rick limped back into the room, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. He thrust it out towards Lassiter. “Uncle Buck gave me that right before he left. He told me if something went wrong to look there. I didn’t really know what he meant,” he explained thickly as Lassiter took the picture. The others moved so they could look over the detective’s shoulder.

It was a photo of a younger O’Riley and another teen who was presumably Buck as a young man. They had their arms thrown around each other, grinning widely, gripping what looked like cans of beer in their free hands. They were standing in front of an old barn, looking as if they hadn’t had a care in the world. “Do you know where this is?” Lassiter queried, handing the photo to Lauretta.

The picture shook in her quivering hand. “That’s Uncle Roger’s old farm,” she said quietly, handing the picture back. “We practically lived there as kids. Technically, it belongs to James, our cousin, but he lives in Indiana now. It wouldn’t surprise me if Buck said they should go up there.”

“How do you get up there?” Henry asked eagerly, leaning forward. As Lauretta began describing the route, he thought, Just hang on, son. We’re coming soon.
 

*****

Shawn jerked awake with a start. When did I fall asleep? he wondered vaguely, blinking and looking around. The light had pretty much faded, and it was hard to see anything. Thankfully the water level in the other cistern had fallen below the level of the hole. It had stopped rising shortly after reaching his navel. That didn’t make it any less smelly or miserable, but at least it wasn’t going to go over his head… yet.

Shawn swallowed thickly, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He turned his head slightly to spit… and nearly fell face-first into the water. “Whoa, tha’s no’ righ’ ,” he slurred out as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He managed to sit up straight and rested his head back against the muddy wall. His mouth curved slightly when he thought about how bad he must look at the moment.

Gradually he became aware of the soft sound of the muck splashing slightly around him. He tipped his head down slightly, staring through the darkness at the water in confusion. He couldn’t see anything anymore, but he could still hear the splashes around him. They seemed to be getting louder… or was that his ears just playing tricks on him? And why was his shoulder starting to throb so much?

Finally a thought made its way through his foggy mind. His arms were trembling so violently that they were making the water splash. He weakly grabbed at his right arm with his left hand to try and stop the trembling. Shawn growled faintly in annoyance when he felt tremors running throughout his body. “Well, this really sucks,” he croaked, letting his mind drift off into blackness again.
 

*****

“Good grief,” Gus grunted as the small car bucked over the rough road. “I think I’m gonna get a concussion from driving over this road.”

Henry braced on hand against the window frame. “No kidding,” he muttered with a wince as they hit one particularly nasty bump. He frowned as a thought struck him. “It would not be fun to be stuck in a trunk going over this road,” he added finally. Gus shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t respond.

At long last, the two vehicles pulled up to a stop. Up ahead of Gus and Henry, Lassiter’s high beams cut through the drizzling rain to land on a decayed house. Gus’ eyes grew wide as he stared out the windshield. “Where the hell could they have put Shawn in this dump?” he asked in amazement.

Henry’s jaw was set in a firm line. “Come on,” he growled, grabbing the flashlight he had brought off the dash and stepping out of the car.

“Shawn! Shawn!” he called loudly, striding forward. He listened for a moment, but no response came.

“Okay, let’s split up,” Lassiter declared, stepping out of his car and looking around. “We’ll find Spencer faster that way. Judging by the condition of these buildings, he’s probably been in the rain the entire time, so it’s best to find him ASAP.”

“Right,” Vick agreed, flicking her own flashlight around. “O’Hara, you, Mr. Guster, and Henry comb the area around the barn. Detective Lassiter and I will handle the area around the house. And for cripes’ sake, don’t go poking around the second floor if it’s rotten through. The last thing we need is someone falling through the floor. Got it?” she added in her strictest voice. They all nodded, not missing the tightness of her face. She was clearly worried for the psychic.

“Yell if you find him,” Henry finished, jogging ahead towards the barn and yelling Shawn’s name. Gus and Juliet were right behind him, and Vick and Lassiter headed off for the house.

“Shawn! Shawn! Can you hear me?” Juliet called at the top of her lungs as Henry pushed the barn door open.

Gus, who was lingering behind the pair, wrinkled his nose. “Man, something sure stinks around here,” he complained, waving a hand in front of his nose.

Henry ignored him, shining the flashlight down at the ground as he stepped inside the decayed old barn. Through the missing wall, he could see Karen and Lassiter disappearing inside the house. “Shawn! Shawn!” he shouted, shining the flashlight around.

Juliet gingerly stepped in behind him. She frowned, taking in the rotten chunks of floor that had fallen in from the loft, and what looked like a good chunk of shingles from the roof. “I don’t think he’s in here,” she said softly, her heart falling. If this lead didn’t pan out… they might never figure out where Shawn was. Not until it was too late.

She suddenly cringed as Gus bellowed behind her, “SHAWN! IF YOU CAN HEAR THIS, YOU’D BETTER ANSWER ME!”

“Yeesh, blow my eardrum out, why don’t you?” Juliet muttered with a faint smirk, glancing over her shoulder at Gus. Gus rolled his eyes.

“Wait, hold up!” Henry suddenly hissed, holding up a hand to silence them. They froze, straining their ears to hear something over the gentle drizzle. They could hear Lassiter’s indignant-yet-worried calls of “Spencer!” mixed with Vick’s clearly worried calls of “Mr. Spencer! Shawn!” in the distance, but no other voices added to the mix.

Gus was the first to break the relative silence. “I don’t-”

“SHAWN! YELL IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, KID!” Henry barked, making both Gus and Juliet wince. They didn’t comment, though, instead choosing to hold their breaths in anticipation.

Gus’ eyes widened when he heard a very weak, “Dad.” Before he could even try to figure out where the call was coming from, Henry was running back out the way they had come.

“Carlton! Chief! Over here!” Juliet shouted as she and Gus headed after the older Spencer. They followed him around the corner of the barn and stopped in surprise.

There was nothing in sight. All they could see was four cisterns in a cluster. “Where is - oh, no,” Gus’ voice faded to a whisper, his eyes widening in horror as he looked at the foul-smelling cisterns.

“Shawn!” Henry bellowed, rushing forward and falling to his knees in the mud next to one of the cisterns as Lassiter and Karen came up behind them, looking a lot dirtier than they had been before.

“No way,” Lassiter said. “Spencer’s in one of those?”

Henry had already pulled one cover off. He had to suppress the urge to vomit as the stench hit him. What is in these things? he wondered, holding one arm up to his mouth and nose. “Shawn?” he called, pointing his flashlight downwards. It reflected off a pool of what looked like mud, water, and feces that filled close to two-thirds of the pit.

They all froze as the heard the faintest of groans coming from the pit next to the one Henry was currently peering in. The elder Spencer pivoted on one leg towards the sound. “Whoa!” he suddenly exclaimed as the ground beneath him gave way.

Gus suddenly shot forward, using a lightning speed no one knew he had. He grabbed one of Henry’s flailing arms and yanked him forward onto solid ground, away from the cesspool.

Henry didn’t miss a beat. He immediately moved forward, gripped the rotting wood with both hands, and flipped the lid up and back. Lassiter moved up and helped the older man get the lid away from the entrance. Henry aimed the flashlight into the hole. Even in the dim light of the others’ flashlights, it was easy to see his face go completely white.

“Shawn!”

The others immediately gathered around the hole on solid ground and looked downward, all shining their flashlights. Gus and Juliet both recoiled slightly, Vick gasped, and Lassiter tensed.

Caught in the beams of the flashlights twenty feet below them was a trembling figure, caked in mud and filth and sitting in a rather deep puddle of sludge. The only sign that it was really Shawn was the small, semi-clean patch of hair that stuck up in its characteristic manner. “Spencer!” Lassiter barked. “Spencer, say something!”

They all waited for a moment, breathless, for any kind of movement. Finally Shawn seemed to stir, and with a groan he tipped his head back, looking up at them through hooded eyes. Henry’s jaw dropped slightly. Half of Shawn’s face was completely caked in mud, and the other half was a mixture of dark mud and patches of deathly-white skin. “Bou’ time, Lassie,” the psychic croaked. They cringed at the harshness of his voice.

“Can you stand, Mr. Spencer?” Karen called.

Shawn snorted faintly, his eyes drooping shut. They heard what sounded like, “Pole won’ lemme,” as his head slumped back down. Gus and Juliet looked at each other in confusion.

“Shawn!” Henry barked. Shawn reluctantly forced his head back up. “You gotta stay with us, okay, kiddo?”

“Don’ wanna,” Shawn whined weakly.

“Tough bounce, kid,” Henry growled back. The others stared at the elder Spencer in surprise. “What am I always telling you?”

“Sell m’ bike?” Shawn asked, working very hard at keeping his eyes open. Even at this distance, Gus could tell they were fever-glazed. He felt his heart speed up a little bit, the beginnings of panic beginning to overwhelm him.

“Nope, wrong answer - though you do need better transportation, sport. Try again,” Henry called back almost lazily, a tense edge under his voice.

“We need to radio an ambulance,” Vick muttered under her breath.

“I’ll go do it - I think I got something in my car to help him out, too,” Gus said quickly, scrambling away from the hole and heading back for his car before anyone could object. Their gazes shot back to the bottom of the cistern when Shawn groaned.

“I dunno, Dad,” the pseudo-psychic said, his voice growing fainter with every word.

“Yes, you do, Shawn - I’ve only told you a million times,” Henry shot back.

There was a stretch of silence for a moment as Shawn screwed his face into thoughtful look. “How many hats?” the younger Spencer finally asked hopefully. Lassiter’s eyes narrowed. Shawn had shifted subtly, and he had winced faintly, weakly grabbing at his right leg with his left arm.

“I think he must’ve landed on his right side,” the detective muttered to O’Hara and Vick.

“I saw that, too,” Juliet whispered in reply.

“Closer, but nope,” Henry was saying to Shawn. “Spencer men don’t get sick.”

“Hate to break it to ya, Dad,” Shawn called wearily, “but you’re no’ always right.”

They paused in conversation as Gus came running back. “There's a small dispatch station close by, so an ambulance should be here within twenty minutes,” he told them breathlessly, dropping a duffel bag to the ground.

“On that road? It’s gonna be more like half an hour,” Henry groused. “Why do you have a climbing rope in your car?” he added as Gus pulled out some climbing gear.

“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,” Gus replied. “But you could always ask Shawn - it’s his fault,” he added in a louder voice.

“Gus? Izzat you?” Shawn slurred.

“Yeah, Shawn, I’m here. Perhaps you’d care to explain to your father why we keep climbing gear in the trunk,” Gus replied casually, uncoiling some of the rope.

The others glanced at each other as Shawn started laughing almost hysterically. “Wha’ happens in Mex’co stays ‘n Mex’co, y’ know th’ rules, Gus!” he called sluggishly. Juliet couldn’t hold back a chuckle, and Vick almost smirked.

“I’m going down there,” Henry said harshly, looking at Gus.

“I was going to!” Gus shot back.

“No, you two are both civilians. I’ve gotta do it,” Lassiter interjected tersely, his eyes flashing.

“Now wait just a minute,” Henry began.

“Guys!” Juliet suddenly called loudly. She ignored Shawn’s puzzled, “Jules?” and said, “None of you are going to be able to maneuver down there - the shaft’s wide, but not wide enough.”

There was a pause as they looked back down. Shawn’s head was dropping back down again. “Plus, we’re gonna need all the manpower we can get to pull him out,” Vick pointed out. The men looked at each other resignedly, then at Juliet as Vick added, “ And since Mr. Spencer gets along so well with you, O’Hara, you’re going down.”

( Part 9 )