Title: Family Sacrifices
Author: Olivia Sutton
Warnings: Violence, Angst
Season: Second season, not specific.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Archive: Fanfic Net, Psychfic, otherwise please ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, and I'm not making any profit from this. This is for the enjoyment of other fans. Feedback and reviews are most welcome.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Date: 17 October 2007
A/N: My first full-length Psych story. Thanks to ilsaluvsrick over at Live Journal for beta help, Cheri on the Yahoo fanfic med list for beta help, and Fodor's Travel Books (series) Southern California for info on Santa Barbara. Hugs to all! Mistakes are my own or used for dramatic license. This is more pure hurt/comfort than angst, I hope it's enjoyed. Oh, and the flashback is inspired by a challenge on Psychfic. This is meant to be a gen story with no shippings. Please enjoy responsibly! Share and review!
Summary: How far would Shawn go to protect his father? How would Henry react?
by Olivia Sutton
Shawn Spencer sat at his desk at the Psych Detective Agency, watching the agency's new plasma TV, and playing with his desk toys. He was bored, he and his friend and partner, Burton "Gus" Guster, hadn't had a case in weeks. But Shawn's ears picked-up as he noticed that a news report was now on the TV screen instead of his baseball game, and he reached for the remote to turn up the sound.
"...the former police officer was shot in front of his suburban Santa Barbara home, Henry S..." the reporter's voice was drowned out by a jack hammer from the street outside the agency.
Shawn gasped, the blood draining from his face, then he quickly hit the volume control on the remote, tuning the TV sound to its loudest setting to overcome the noise of the jack hammer.
"...apparently by rifle from long range," the female reporter turned to Detective Carlton Lassiter, who had approached her, Detective Juliet O'Hara behind him, who was wearing latex surgical gloves, "Mister Lassiter, maybe you could..."
"Detective Lassiter," he interrupted.
"Detective. Maybe you could tell us more about what happened here?"
Carlton nodded, his face haggard, "Henry Sorenson may have been a former member of the SBPD, but he was still a brother officer, and the force takes any assaults against the police very seriously. Whoever did this will be caught. Now excuse me, I have work to do."
"That was Santa Barbara police detective, Carlton Lassiter..."
Shawn clicked off the TV with the remote, then relaxed into his chair at his desk. It wasn't his father. For a second, when he'd heard the reporter say 'retired officer Henry', he had been sure that it was his own father. But he knew the name, Henry Sorenson had been his father's partner for ten years. Shawn remembered him as a serious and dour man with a thick mustache and dark brown hair, but with a wicked sense of humor, which came out at the oddest times. He had often wondered how the man had kept his sunny disposition, given his profession, especially since he had worked with his father. He was pushing back his desk chair when Gus entered the office.
"Gus, we need to head over to the police station, now!"
"What?" asked Gus, "I just got here, Shawn, what's the hurry?"
"The hurry is that someone's shot and killed a former SBPD officer, Gus. Now, come on!" Shawn headed for the door as he spoke.
"Former police officer?" Gus repeated, "Not..." he left off.
"Not my dad, no," said Shawn, "but Henry Sorenson was my dad's second partner, after his training partner, Morty," Shawn quickly explained as he moved. Then, Shawn stopped in front of Gus, turned, and faced him, "Look, Gus, I... I need to work on this case, no matter what the chief and Lassie say, OK?" Shawn's eyes widened, in an incredibly accurate imitation of Puss-in-Boots in his "cute" moment, then he continued, seriously, "I have to... It could have been Dad."
Gus nodded understandingly, "I'll drive."
Shawn sauntered confidently into the Santa Barbara police station, his friend Gus at his side. They weaved through the various desks and people in the crowded police station, before reaching Chief Karen Vick's office.
Shawn brushed down his flannel shirt, T-shirt, and jeans, then pushed his way into the chief's office. Lassiter and Juliet were already in the office.
Karen looked up from her desk, "What now?"
Shawn walked straight to Karen's desk, looking very serious, "I want in on this case. You need my help."
Karen didn't ask for clarification, "Mr. Spencer, this is a cop killing. I don't think your father would want you involved. Besides, every officer in my precinct will be working on this."
Shawn considered his options, briefly, then said, "It's because of my father that I want in on this. I think he may be in danger. Henry Sor..." Shawn stumbled, then continued, "Henry Sorenson was his partner."
Before she could respond to that, Henry Spencer burst into Chief Vick's office.
Karen looked up, annoyed, "Does it actually matter to either of you that my door was shut?"
Both Spencers looked at her and said, "No."
"I don't want my son working on this, Chief Vick," said Henry, "something like this is much too dangerous for an amateur detective."
Shawn's face fell; he knew his father didn't approve of how he put his observational talents to use solving crimes for the police department, but he had never used the word 'amateur' before. "Hey, they pay me, Dad," he said, "and I'm a psychic, not technically a detective. I know you've never really understood my talents but..."
Henry stared at Shawn, then said, "It's too dangerous!"
Chief Vick looked from father to son and back, filing away their squabbling for another time, then said, "Mr. Spencer!"
"Yes," both Spencers responded.
"Stop doing that!" insisted Lassiter, from the other side of the office, "One Spencer is quite enough," he paused, adding under his breath, "I can't believe I'm saying this," then said louder, "Shawn, have you gotten any visions?"
Shawn nodded, then his expression went blank and spacey, he raised one hand to the side of his head, and the other before himself, shouting out, "Rifle, ... gun sight... up high..." He came to his senses, then said, "I'm sorry, that's all I got, but if I saw the crime scene..."
"Shawn," said Henry in a warning voice.
Vick looked at Shawn, impressed, "No, Henry, I think we should let Shawn see the crime scene."
Henry nodded, looking frustrated and angry, "All right. Fine. But I want to see Shawn, alone, for a moment. Come on, Shawn."
Shawn looked at his father, saw his serious expression, and nodded, then meekly followed him out of Chief Vick's office.
Vick followed Shawn with her eyes, surprised by his quiet demeanor, so different from the young man who normally bounced off the walls of her office.
Once outside the chief's office, Shawn turned and carefully shut the door, then he turned toward his father, "I want in on this!"
Henry looked at Shawn then grabbed his shoulder. Shawn looked at his father's hand, and Henry let go, then said, "Shawn, this is too dangerous!"
Shawn threw his hands in the air, "I don't think you understand, Dad!"
Henry shook his head, "You're right, I don't. This has been a lark for you, one more short-term job until you get bored, but..."
Shawn stepped closer to his father and cut him off, "This isn't a lark, Dad! I've finally found something that I want to do. Something that I'm good at. Something that will make you..." he stopped, then turned away.
Henry, ice blue eyes blazing, grabbed Shawn's shoulder for the second time in as many minutes and spun his son around, "Something that will make me what, Shawn?"
Shawn shook his head, side-stepping the question, "You don't get it, do you? I don't suppose it occurred to you to actually ask me what brought me to the station today?"
Henry's eyes widened in surprise, in actuality, it hadn't occurred to him to ask. "What? So, what brought you here?"
Shawn looked around the station, then said, intensely, "Outside," and dragged Henry to the nearby door to the parking lot. Once they were standing outside, he checked to make sure there weren't any police officers around, then he looked at Henry's face and said, quietly, "A news report, Dad... a news report brought me down here."
Henry looked at Shawn's intense face in surprise, "A news report? So?"
"Arrggh," Shawn groaned, raising his hands in the air, "The reporter said a former police officer Henry something, Dad. There was noise from the street. I didn't hear the last name, not until Lassiter repeated it a few minutes later. Do you have any idea what went through my mind? Do you?" he insisted.
Henry stared at Shawn, then insisted, "OK, let's go over to the truck and talk about it."
"What?" said Shawn.
Henry indicted the other cops entering and leaving the station, "My truck?"
"Right, Dad," said Shawn, walking off toward the truck, which was parked in the lot in front of the station.
They reached the truck, and Henry was reaching over to open the door, when Shawn noticed a glare from the building roof on the opposite side of the parking lot. "Get down!" he yelled, pushing Henry to the blacktop surface of the parking lot and covering him with his own body.
There was the sharp retort of a rifle shot.
Henry groaned, then realized he was face down on the blacktop and Shawn was on top of him, holding him down and not moving. "Shawn!"
Shawn didn't answer.
Henry tried to reach Shawn but couldn't bend his arm backwards, but he felt a wetness from the body above him. Then another shot rang out.
Henry had been shot once before while wearing a bullet-proof vest, and he remembered the sensation, but this time it was his own son who stopped the bullet for him. Henry felt the impact, and knew it had hit Shawn in the lower back, possibly in the kidneys. He also knew he had to get himself and Shawn under cover, and quickly. It could be dangerous moving Shawn, especially since he couldn't catch him because he was underneath his son, but it would be more dangerous if Shawn took another bullet. Henry slowly rolled out from under Shawn, letting his son fall to the ground, then once he was free of Shawn's body, he turned and shielded Shawn from where he thought the bullets were coming from, reached forward, and checked Shawn's neck for a pulse. It was there! Fast and thready but there! Henry let out the breath he'd been holding, then began to visually inspect his son for injuries.
Shawn had been shot twice, once in the upper back near his left shoulder and once in the lower back also on the left, near his waist. Henry double-checked Shawn's pulse at his neck and Shawn's breathing; and so far, both were still there, then used his hands to apply pressure to the wounds. Just then there was a third sharp retort from a rifle, the shot whizzed past Henry's ear, and he hunched over to protect his son, then he quickly checked their situation, looking for better cover. He took Shawn in his arms, and half-crawled, half moved on his knees around to the back of the truck, laying Shawn near the back of the pickup. Henry faced the truck, kneeling next to Shawn, his back to the police station. He reached up, and lowered the tailgate, offering a thin metal roof of protection over Shawn. Then he reached forward to Shawn's neck, again checking his pulse. The pulse was still thready, and now weaker. Henry moved closer, pushing his fingers deeper into Shawn's neck, when he suddenly felt his pulse disappear entirely.
"No! Come on, Shawn!" Henry arranged Shawn on his back, checked the pulse again, and when he found it missing, he began CPR, pumping his son's heart and breathing for him.
Meanwhile, in the police station, the officers had heard the shots in the parking lot, and alerted Chief Vick. Now, Lassiter, Gus, and Juliet all stood at the doorway looking out toward Shawn and Henry in the parking lot.
"Gus, find a phone and call for an ambulance. Tell the dispatcher that the ambulance should cut the sirens once they reach Anapamu, and stop about 30 feet from the entrance to our parking lot. Get a phone number or radio frequency for the bus, so we can tell them when it's safe to enter the lot, OK?" Lassiter ordered.
Gus nodded, "Got it."
"And if you have to-- tell 'em we have an officer down, and you can tell him you're 'Officer Guster' under my authority, but only if you need to get them moving, got it, Gus?"
Gus nodded again, then scurried away.
Lassiter turned to Juliet, "O'Hara-- I want you to gather a small group of officers, leave the station out the side entrance, take Santa Monica Avenue down to that building..." he pointed through the window to the building on the north side of the parking lot, "Find that sniper and stop him-- by any means necessary," he looked to Chief Vick, questioningly, for approval.
"Lethal force is authorized; bring him down, Detective," said Karen.
Juliet nodded, "Right."
Lassiter reached for her arm, "Have the officers either go through the building to the roof, or enter on its north side from a fire escape. Just make sure none of you are seen until you take this guy down. And, O'Hara, be careful, this guy hasn't shown any hesitation about killing cops or civilians."
Juliet nodded again, "Shawn?"
"The chief and I will try to help Henry, but we can't do anything until that maniac stops shooting."
Juliet nodded again, and left.
Chief Vick looked at Lassiter in surprise, but before she could say anything, Gus returned.
"I reached 911, they've dispatched an ambulance. I gave them your instructions, and they gave me this number," Gus showed Lassiter a piece of paper with a phone number written on it.
"Right, now the hard part, waiting out the sniper, or waiting for O'Hara and our officers to bring him down."
"How's Shawn?" asked Gus.
"I was about to find out," Lassiter reached for the door.
Chief Vick reached out, placing a hand on his arm, stopping him, "If you open that door, the sniper might shoot at you."
"If he does, Henry might be able to get Spencer, I mean, Shawn Spencer, clear. Besides, we need to know how bad he's hurt, Chief."
Karen let go of Carlton, and nodded.
Lassiter opened the door and yelled toward Henry, "How bad?"
Henry looked up and over his shoulder, then back at Shawn as he continued performing CPR. He stopped pumping, puffed air into Shawn's lungs, waited for the exhale, then continued pumping his son's chest. "He's been hit twice!" he said, turning his head and shouting back, "Right now, he has no pulse and he's not breathing. He needs an ambulance!"
Lassiter nodded, his face grim, "Are you hurt, Henry?"
Henry turned to meet Lassiter's eyes and shook his head, then returned to facing Shawn, blew into his mouth again, then turned his head again and yelled back, "No!"
Lassiter pulled back inside the station, and turned toward Karen and Gus, "Shawn's been shot twice. It's serious."
Gus had looked through the window and seen Henry performing CPR on Shawn, "He's not breathing, is he?"
Lassiter just turned back toward the parking lot, ignoring Gus.
Gus grabbed Lassiter's arm and spun him around until they were face to face, then he let go, "Is he?"
Lassiter shook his head no.
Gus grabbed for the door, but Lassiter and Chief Vick held it closed before he could even open it.
"You can't go out there, Guster, you'll give the sniper another target. I, we, can't allow that," said Chief Vick.
Lassiter nodded, "What she said. I can't even send an ambulance in, until it's safe."
"And what about Shawn? He can't last long, even with CPR, he needs professional medical care! And he needs it now!" shouted Gus.
Lassiter simply shook his head.
Then there was the sound of a scuffle and shots outside, then Lassiter's cell phone sounded the Law and Order theme. Gus raised an eyebrow at the ring-tone, but Carlton simply glared, checked the caller ID, and answered the phone, "What is it, O'Hara?"
He listened, then asked, "Any officers hurt?", listened again, then said, "Good job, bring him to the station for questioning," then snapped close the phone.
"What?" asked Gus.
"They've got him. Gus, call the ambulance crew, tell them they can pull in to the parking lot. And tell 'em to hurry!"
Gus nodded, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed the number on the piece of paper he held. Meanwhile, Lassiter and Karen were heading out across the parking lot. Moving and talking into the phone at the same time, Gus followed the police officers toward Henry and Shawn.
Lassiter reached Shawn and Henry, fell to his knees, then said, "Let me take over."
Henry shook his head.
"Come on, you're exhausted, let me take over! Count, Henry..." said Lassiter.
"One, two, three..." said Henry as he counted off the compressions to Lassiter.
"Four, five," Lassiter joined in as he positioned his hands above Henry's, ready to take over.
Henry blew another breath into Shawn's mouth, after the exhale, Lassiter took over, pumping Shawn's chest.
"How long?" asked Lassiter.
"Wha... What?" said Henry.
"How long has he been down?"
"Just since I moved him, um, maybe two minutes, I don't know!"
Lassiter nodded again, then blew into Shawn's mouth, before continuing the chest compressions.
Gus had reached them by that point. His eyes took in the puddle of blood between Henry's truck and the next car, and the trail to where Shawn lay now. Henry had taken off his shirt, folded it and stuck the fabric behind Shawn's back. Lassiter was now doing the CPR, and Henry sat, dazed, leaning against his truck.
"Mister Spencer?" Gus asked.
Henry didn't answer, his eyes focused on the rise and fall of Shawn's chest as Lassiter did his work.
"Are you hurt, Henry?" asked Chief Vick.
Henry shook his head.
Gus nodded at the blood covering Henry, "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." He looked down at the blood, including the blood on his hands, and wiped them against his pants, then said, "It's Shawn's-- it's all Shawn's."
Just then, the ambulance pulled in and stopped. The paramedics jumped out.
"What..." the first paramedic started.
"He's been shot, twice, once in the upper back, shoulder area, and once in the lower back, on the left, near his waist," said Henry, flatly, "He's 28 years old, and we've been doing CPR for about two minutes. You should know that he lost his right kidney and spleen when he was seventeen, to a motorcycle accident. But he doesn't have any other medical conditions."
"Your relation to the patient?" said the first paramedic.
"He's... he's my son," answered Henry, his voice still flat.
Lassiter was still performing CPR on Shawn. The second paramedics rushed over and counted with Lassiter as he performed compressions. Once Lassiter had reached five, and had given Shawn another breath, the paramedic took over, and Lassiter moved back, collapsing onto his heels.
The other paramedic joined his partner. He set a portable heart monitor next to Shawn, and attached the leads to his chest.
Meanwhile Lassiter pushed himself to his feet and walked over to where Chief Vick and Gus stood, looking at Shawn and the two paramedics.
"Shawn?" asked Gus, his expression filled with worry.
At the same time, the paramedic nodded at Henry's declaration, checked the heart monitor, and said, "V-fib!" He set-up the defibrillator, "Charging, 200 joules," he checked that the defibrillator also showed v-fib, then said, "Clear!"
Shawn's body jumped. Gus pulled back, closing his eyes in fear. Henry also looked away, not wanting to see what happened as the electricity coursed through Shawn's body.
"No conversion," said the paramedic, checking the monitor, "Charging 300 joules, clear," he said, then shocked Shawn a second time.
This time it worked. "Normal sinus rhythm," said the paramedic.
Gus opened his eyes, and Henry turned back, watching as the paramedics began working on Shawn.
"Breathing is shallow. Let's start oxygen and two wide bore IVs with normal saline. Check his wounds," said one of the paramedics to the other.
"We have two GSWs to the back," said the second paramedic to the first, as he checked Shawn's shoulder, lower back, and chest area, "No exit wounds. I think we should scoop and run."
The first paramedic nodded, "Let's patch up the wounds best we can, then run," he reached for his radio on his shoulder and called in Shawn's injuries to the trauma center's base station.
The second paramedic pressed gauze pads to Shawn's wounds, then taped them down.
Within minutes, the two paramedics had done as much as they could, they placed Shawn on a stretcher and moved him into the ambulance. "You," the first paramedic indicated Henry, "Do you want to come in with him?"
Henry nodded, his face showing haggard exhaustion. He started to step into the back of the ambulance.
"But up front, OK? I need all the space in the back to work on your son."
Henry nodded again, meekly, then he got into the passenger side of the ambulance.
"We'll meet you at the hospital," Gus shouted to Henry.
"Memorial Trauma Center," the paramedic said to Gus as he stepped into the back of the ambulance. The ambulance moved out of the parking lot, siren screaming.
"Memorial Trauma Center," Gus parroted. He turned to Lassiter, "You coming?"
"I'm driving," Lassiter responded.
Just then O'Hara appeared, sans her prisoner.
Lassiter looked at Juliet in shock, "What happened? I thought you had him!"
"I did! He's in the lock-up. With about a half dozen officers on guard, Carlton. You know how everyone in this precinct feels about Shawn. He's not going anywhere."
Lassiter nodded at her, rubbed his face, then wobbled slightly on his feet.
"You all right?" asked Juliet.
"Yeah, I'm fine, little woozy from doing CPR on Shawn."
"What?" yelled Juliet.
Carlton simply shook his head, then turned to Gus, "You coming to the hospital? Because, I'm leaving, now."
"Of course," replied Gus.
"O'Hara?" asked Lassiter.
Juliet looked toward the chief for permission.
"Go ahead, both of you," said Chief Vick, "I'll take your statements later. Keep me informed on Spencer's, Shawn's, condition. I need to interview Juliet's suspect. And take care of things here."
Lassiter nodded, once, then pointed to his unmarked police car, "Come on, everyone."
To Be Continued...