Title: That's What Friends Are For
Summary: After finding out that Shawn gave him the wrong letter on purpose, Gus chases him around the park. What would have happened if he had actually caught Shawn? I imagine it would turn out something like this.. Shawn whump inside!
Spoiler: Episode tag to 1.2 "The Spellingg Bee". If you haven't seen that episode (and I would be highly surprised if you haven't), then you will be slightly lost.
Rating: PG-13 with warnings for minor cursing
Pairing: None – all friendship
Characters: Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter, Henry, Chief Vick
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. I'm just borrowing and playing with. Believe me, if I were a writer on Psych, there would be a whole heck of a lot more Shawn whump on there. LOL. All characters belong to the creative mind of Steve Franks.
Author's Note: This is an alternate ending to the episode "The Spellingg Bee". I was watching the episode last night and wondered what would have happened if Gus had actually caught Shawn. Of course, I changed a few things for my evil purposes (mainly so I can hurt Shawn just a teensy bit more) but it's not too much, I promise.
2: This is my first venture into the Psych fandom so I really hope that you like it and that the characters are as close to themselves as possible; characterization isn't exactly my strong suit.
"Come here Shawn," Gus angrily called as he chased after his limping friend. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be forcing Shawn to run like he was; sure the knee injury wasn't too bad – a medium sprain at the most – but given how much the fake psychic had been overtaxing the joint during this case it had to be hurting him. Still, the part of him that was more furious about the information he'd just received didn't seem to neither care nor heed his rational mind's warning and kept chasing him.
They both rounded another tree, Shawn doing a very good impersonation of Danny Kaye being chased by Basil Rathbone in The Court Jester. "Come here!" Gus called again. He reached out to grab Shawn's shirt, barely missing as he felt the cotton ghosting through his fingers. The pharmaceutical salesman angrily huffed and put on an extra burst of speed. He gave an almost feral smile when he noticed that he was gaining on his friend.
Shawn turned round another tree, doing his best to evade the very angry Burton Guster that was chasing him. Instantly Gus pivoted, moving from being behind Shawn to being in front of him and he pounced. Shawn gave a startled yelp as Gus' body weight slammed into him then they were both on the ground.
It was then that Gus' mind snapped back to reality, his quest for vengeance having been fulfilled. Oh God, he didn't just tackle his injured best friend did he? With the coordinated limbs of a scrambling spider, Gus climbed off Shawn and sat back on his heels. His chest was heaving, almost painfully, from both the running and the effects of having his breath partially stolen by the landing. Deep brown eyes intently watched the other man's chest altogether pleased to see it rising and falling. At least he hadn't killed him – that was a good sign.
"Shawn?" he called.
"Oh," Shawn groaned. The sound struck deep into Gus' heart, piercing it with a very, very sharp arrow. His right hand went straight to his head where, no doubt, a headache was steadily growing. The fake psychic had enough time to bring the hand to his head and wince before the wince settled into a very deep grimace complete with barred teeth and his hand lowered to his right thigh. He massaged the large muscle before he proceeded to attempt to straighten his knee. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, holy freakin' hell, OW," he exclaimed. The sound was a mixture of a groan and a shout – something Gus hadn't heard out of his friend since he was in a motorcycle accident and broke his arm in two places.
While his friend was cringing in pain, Gus followed the right hand down to the injured leg. The leg itself was bent at a forty-five degree angle, nothing abnormal about that. The knee, however, was grossly swollen. Shawn's blue jeans were poor cover for the distension in the joint. Gus winced; once in sympathy for Shawn and once in sympathy for himself. Shawn was never going to let him live this down.
"Shawn, why aren't you wearing your brace?" Gus winced again. It was the last thing he'd meant to say but he couldn't deny that it was a fair question.
"Took it off during the reveal," Shawn explained through a grimace.
"Why would you do that?" By now, Gus was exasperated and concerned. He was beyond annoyed at his friend for not doing as, he didn't doubt, the ER doctor told him to do but he knew the amount of swelling in the man's knee was painful and indicative of a worse injury than the one he'd previously sustained.
"Dude," Shawn answered, putting his normal tone into his voice. He raised himself onto his elbows so that he could easily talk to Gus. "There is no way I'm going to wear that thing while I'm doing my whole psychic thing! It cramps my cool style."
"You don't have a cool style," Gus countered. "And where did you stash the thing?"
"Dude," Shawn answered managing to sound hurt all the while pulling out a blue brace from his back pocket. The faked hurt dissolved into real pain and he hissed in response. "Ah," he groaned, shifting in his place in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position. "Okay, as comfy as the ground is, I don't think we can stay here all day."
Gus looked around with a sigh. Shawn was right of course, they both needed to get back to the precinct and debrief with Chief Vick; they had to if they wanted to get paid. The problem lay in not only getting Shawn both into the car and into the station but whether or not Shawn should be attempting to walk anywhere at all. Bottom line – he needed to get Shawn to a doctor and get to the debrief with the Chief.
"Stay here," Gus instructed. He got off the ground and headed for his Echo. It would be a whole lot easier if he brought the car as close to Shawn as he could rather than try and make the injured man try and get to the car. He'd parked relatively close so it didn't take him long to get to the car and within a minute, maybe two, he was pulling up along side the curb where Shawn sat.
Once he finished parking, Gus got out and went back over to his friend's side. Shawn had only managed to move a fraction of an inch since Gus had been gone and even that looked to be painful for him.
"How bad is it?" Gus asked as he knelt beside Shawn's right side. Even though he wasn't a doctor, his first instinct was to reach out and physically examine the injured knee. He stopped himself though so he didn't inflict more pain.
Shawn hissed as he shifted again. "Not too terrible. I'll be fine once I get the brace back on."
Something in the way Shawn answered told Gus that there was more to the story but he let it slide. However, the quick glances between the brace, the knee and Gus did tell him that Shawn needed help actually putting the brace on. Gus snatched the blue brace off his friend's lap. He was as gentle as he could be as he lifted the leg and applied but the brace but even still Shawn paled and ground his teeth together.
"Great!" Shawn exclaimed once Gus had finished. "Now let's get to the station and get paid!" He thrust an arm out for Gus to grab, which he did automatically, and began to get off the ground. Gus didn't miss the way the fake psychic didn't even try to put weight on his right leg but he held in his comment as he helped his friend heavily limp the fifteen feet to the car.
He was about to open the passenger door and escort Shawn into the seat but the glare his friend threw at him told him to back off just a bit. With hands held up in surrender, Gus went over to the driver's side and started the car. He patiently waited for Shawn to crawl into the car, close the door and buckle his seat belt before he began to head for the SBPD all the while planning on the best way to get the injured psychic into the station with as little pain as possible.
As it turned out, no plan that Gus had was good enough. By the time they got to the station, Shawn couldn't bend his leg without causing himself extreme pain. The slightly bent position his leg had been placed in once he sat in the car was the position it was staying in. As it turned out, that position was perfect for getting them both up the stairs of the SBPD.
Gus held tightly onto Shawn's right arm as he all but dead lifted his friend's right side, allowing Shawn to work the left. Between the two of them they made it but it wasn't a pain free journey in the slightest. By the time they made it through the doors, Shawn had teeth indentations on his lower lip.
"Hey Shawn," Buzz McNab greeted happily, "How's it going?" His cheerful tone slowed and lowered the closer Shawn and Gus got. His forehead wrinkled in concern when he took in the human crutch position Gus was in but at a minute shake of Gus' head he didn't comment on it.
"Spencer! Get your butt in here. I don't wanna be here all night!" Lassiter called from the Chief's office.
Gus swore he could hear Shawn growl at the detective but neither man said anything as they limp-hopped over to the double glass doors of Chief Vick's office.
There was a soft gasp from their left and the two men awkwardly turned to see Juliet O'Hara gaping at them with pity on her face and concern in her eyes. To her credit, the young detective tried to resume a neutral face when she realized that they heard her but it wasn't soon enough for Shawn not to notice it.
"Jules!" Shawn greeted with almost enough cheer in his voice to hide the strain in it. "Listen, I wanted to say thanks for your support during this case."
"You're welcome," Juliet answered with a warm smile on her face. "Are you okay? I wanted to ask earlier when you were here but you and Gus left before I was dismissed from the Chief's office and I didn't get a chance to."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Shawn answered. Behind him, Gus shook his head while mouthing "No" as loudly as he could. His grasp tightened when Shawn attempted to pull away so that he could show just how "fine" he was; there was no way he was going to allow his friend to cause himself a lot of pain just to try and prove a point that he could not prove.
"Spencer! O'Hara! Guster! Any day now!" Lassiter called. The group froze then Shawn and Juliet rolled their eyes.
"Better get in there," Shawn said, hitching his thumb behind him in the direction of the Chief's office.
Juliet politely smiled but Gus saw that she knew Shawn wasn't okay but was allowing the fake psychic his privacy and pride. The group made their way into the office, the two men ignoring the Chief's eyebrows raise in surprise as they stood in front of her desk.
Forcefully yet gently, Gus pushed Shawn into the only vacant chair left, doing his best to ignore the quiet hiss of pain his friend let escape. He didn't bother hiding his smirk when Juliet silently brought a spare chair from the table in the corner to Shawn's right side then walked away. Shawn glared at the chair in disgust.
Gus knew Shawn didn't want to put his leg on the chair but, in his eyes, that wasn't an option so he leaned down, intent to have one of their patented-pending whisper chats before they began. "Shawn," he whispered in his friend's ear, "take the chair."
Shawn smiled at the group but inclined his head closer to Gus'. "Dude, I am not using that chair. I don't need it."
"I know you like to pretend that you're fine but I happen to know that you're not," Gus argued. "Take the damn chair."
"Of course you know I'm not fine, you're the one that caused this."
"Don't you blame me Shawn. It's your fault that you didn't wear your brace and it's you're fault that you gave me the wrong letter in the spelling bee."
"I cannot believe you are blaming me for the injury that you caused," Shawn countered, actually managing to sound partially offended.
"I did not cause this–"
"–and you are not going to guilt me out of making you use the damn chair." The two men remained silent for a few seconds, offering broad smiles at the three people who were staring curiously at them, then Gus continued, "Don't make me nudge it closer."
Shawn's eyes flicked briefly towards the chair, eyebrows minutely raised when he realized that if Gus were to do that the chair would hit his painful knee, before they refocused back on Gus. "You wouldn't intentionally cause your bestest buddy pain would you?" he asked with the look of a kicked puppy.
Gus raised his eyebrows in response to the question then said, "Yes."
"Gentlemen?" Chief Vick inquired, interrupting the conversation. "Is this something the rest of us need to know or can we continue with the debriefing?"
Both men cleared their throats and Gus barely nudged the chair before Shawn grabbed his thigh, just below the brace, and stiffly lifted his leg onto the proffered chair. "I apologize Chief," he swept a hand towards the Interim Chief with his teeth clenched. "Please continue."
Chief Vick raised her eyebrows once again but simply cleared her throat. "Right, well as to the case.."
Fifteen minutes later Lassiter and Juliet exited the office but Gus and Shawn stayed behind per the Chief's request. Shawn was still seated in the chair across from the Chief's desk with his leg on the spare chair but now that Lassiter and O'Hara had left, Gus sat down in the chair to his friend's left. The two friends sat there, quiet and curious.
"Mr. Spencer," the Chief began. Her voice pitched ever so slightly as she said his name but she cleared her throat and continued. Her features softened from the professional Chief Vick to the more personable Karen and the boys felt their curiosity rise. "Are you alright? I was aware that you were injured, evidenced by this afternoon, but I did not know it was this bad."
Gus brought his thumb across a spot just below and to the right of his lips in an effort to hide the smile that crossed his face but judging by the "traitor!" glare Shawn was giving him it didn't work. He wiped the smile off his face and leaned back into the chair, settling in to watch the show.
"It wasn't bad earlier and it isn't bad now," Shawn denied with a placating smile.
"Yes I can see that given how you don't seem to be able to walk on your own and you," she peered over her desk at his elevated leg, "can't seem to bend your leg." She paused a moment to notice Gus' "Ha!" face and Shawn's "Whatever!" face then she continued to stare at Shawn, waiting for him to honestly answer her question."
"Okay, so I might have hurt my knee worse." Shawn all but mumbled his answer but the Chief's face showed that she heard.
"And how did you manage to do that?"
"Well," both men began before throwing each other "how do we cover this up?" looks.
"You know what? Never mind. Let's try this. How bad are you hurt?"
A "Not that bad," and a "He needs to see a doctor," rang out in unison and the two friends glared at one another before rolling their eyes.
"Okay," the Chief drew out the word. "I'm going to trust Mr. Guster's instincts on this one. Mr. Spencer, go get checked out by a doctor. You are not allowed to consult on any more cases until I have a doctor's note saying that you are fit to do so. You got it?"
"Yes Chief," Shawn answered, slightly hanging his head in defeat.
"Good," Chief Vick chirped. "Now, do you need some help getting out of here?"
"No. I am not having anyone carry me out of here."
"As opposed to me carrying you in?" Gus countered.
"Well that's just you Gus," Shawn defended as if that was all that needed to be said.
"As sure as I am that a few people around here would be willing to literally carry you out of the station, I was thinking something more of a practical approach. I believe we have a set of crutches hanging around here somewhere."
"They weren't in evidence were they?" Gus asked, his face pinched in a queasy feeling.
"As a matter of fact they were Mr. Guster. We apprehended a man who was trying to steal them from our murder." Shawn and Gus looked confused but they shook their heads to clear their growing curiosity. "Now, do you want them or not?"
Gus stared at Shawn, daring him to refuse. Once again, Shawn hung his head in defeat. "The crutches would be great."
So, what did you think?