A/N: Only about one more chapter left in this one. Then I'll start preparation on the 3rd and final installment in this series. Enjoy!
Shawn groaned, his head in his hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched the officer that was assigned with watching them. His lips twitched slightly upward, as a plan formed in his mind. The poor man was pacing back and forth, and watching Shawn with concerned eyes. Shawn had also seen the look on the officer's face when the chief had tasked him with the job of 'Mr. Spencer observation'
He was pretty sure that he was feeling sick again. Turning his head toward Gus, he groaned. "Dude-" he swallowed thickly for dramatic purposes, though the motion in and of itself was actually making him queasy. "I think—ugh-I'm gonna be sick."
Gus jumped up from his seat next to Shawn and watched him carefully. He noted that Shawn was a little pale, though that could be because of the migraine, but he wasn't 'I'm gonna throw up' pale. It was then that Gus noticed the very slight nod of Shawn's head toward the officer patrolling the ground in front of them.
Clearing his throat, Gus strolled up to the officer. He tried to keep his face neutral, even though his insides were currently shaking to the point that Gus was certain that he would be sick, as he poked the officer's shoulder.
"Excuse me, Officer-" he trailed off, waiting for the officer to answer.
Gus nodded, "Officer Marks, my friend Shawn," Gus paused jerking his thumb over his shoulder to point at Shawn, "he's going to throw up, again. I just wanted to warn you, encase you have a weak stomach too."
Officer Marks' face blanched at Gus' words. "How—long?" he stammered out.
Gus shrugged, before glancing at Shawn. "Not long."
Marks' nodded his head, his skin growing paler by the moment. "Can you watch him? I just—I can't. I'll be throwing up with him if I stay here."
Gus gave a single, stiff nod, and watched as Officer Marks quickly retreated from the backyard. Before he could even turn around, Gus could hear Shawn retching behind him. Pinching his eyes closed, Gus breathed through his mouth trying to calm his suddenly queasy stomach. "I'm not going to throw up." Gus muttered under his breath.
"Okay—now that's over, how about we bust into this cabin and save the day?" Shawn said, though the grimace on his face told a much different story.
Gus turned toward Shawn, "Look, lets just leave it to the actual cops. You obviously don't feel well."
Shawn placed a finger to his temple in an attempt to relieve so of the built up tension. "Let me rephrase, Gus. I'm going into that cabin. I will save Buzz and Lassiter, with or without you."
Gus threw his arms up in frustration, a glare on his face. "If you get hurt, I will not take the blame for this!"
Shawn groaned. "Yeah, yeah. It's all my fault. It was my decision. I'll make sure to write Juliet a note in-between saving Buzz and Lassiter. Lets just go before I throw up again."
Shawn turned toward the cabin without a glance backward. He was pretty sure Gus would follow him, and if he didn't, well then Shawn would do it himself. Once he stumbled up the three steps to the top of the deck, Shawn scrutinized the back door. If he jiggled the door handle and it was locked, would Gerry hear it? Not that Shawn had a lock pick or an alternate way into the cabin. Sighing heavily, he twisted the knob, and grinned when it gave under the pressure. The door swung open, creaking only slightly.
In a crouched position, Shawn slowly made his way through the cabin. The coppery smell assaulted his nostrils before he saw it. The smell made his stomach roll, and Shawn fought the urge to throw up again. Instead, he shoved it to the back of his mind as he waddled forward and knelt beside Buzz.
"Please, be alive." Shawn muttered under his breath. With his eyes pinched closed, Shawn pressed two fingers to Buzz's neck. He waited with baited breath until he felt it. Weak and thready, it was still there. "Thank God." Shawn sighed out, turning his attention to Gus. "Help me get him out of here. Then go get Officer Marks."
Gus' eyebrow raised. "What are you going to do?"
"Find Lassiter." Shawn was fairly certain that he didn't need to explain himself further.
Gus merely nodded, before shrugging out of his jacket and handing it off to Shawn. "To staunch the blood-flow."
Shawn gave a curt nod, before grabbing hold of the fabric and pressing it tightly against the barely oozing wound. A sad smile pulled at the edge of his lips at the groan that escaped Buzz's lips. "It's alright, buddy. I promised you that I'd protect you. This is me keeping that promise." After a few minutes, Shawn looked at Gus. "Grab under his arms to sit him up."
Gus moved to Buzz's head, and lifted him the way that Shawn had instructed. He instantly felt bad when Buzz hissed out in pain.
"Buzz, buddy, do you think you can help us stand you up?" Buzz lifted his head as high as he could. He offered Shawn a pained smile. "I'll take that as a yes." Sighing, Shawn rocked himself back onto his feet. "Alright, guys. Count of three. One," Shawn grabbed hold of Buzz's hands, "two, three!" Shawn called out, before pulling on Buzz's hands, as Gus pushed from the back.
Buzz cried out once he was on his feet. His body swayed uncertainly, before Gus and Shawn grabbed hold of him. With most of his weight being held up by Shawn and Gus, they trudged forward toward the back door. Once Buzz and Gus were both over the threshold, Shawn let his hold on Buzz go. "Get him help, Gus." Without another word, Shawn shut the door, and locked it behind him. He didn't want Gus getting the bright idea of following Shawn. No matter what it took, Shawn was getting Lassiter out of this cabin alive, even if it meant that Shawn wouldn't get the same privilege.
Lassiter groans. His head was pounding, and he was certain that there was a slight hint of blood in the air. Probably from an open wound on his head. Having forgotten about the bindings on his wrists, Lassiter tried to lift a hand to cradle his aching head. He hissed at the pain that burned as the wounds on his wrists bit against the leather bindings.
"Now, now, Detective Lassiter. We just discussed this a few minutes ago. If you keep at that, you are only going to make those wounds worse. I won't have you dying at the hands of an infection. You will die at my hands, when I'm good and ready for that to happen." Gerry sauntered toward Lassiter, and knelt in front of him, before continuing, "how would you like me to kill you? Slowly, taking my time. Enjoying each device of torture that I have, or perhaps you'd rather me do it quickly. A shot to the head or a quick slice through your jugular?"
"I want you to rot in hell. That is what I want." Lassiter sneered at Gerry.
Gerry smiled sadistically at Lassiter, before rocking himself into a standing position. "Slow it is. Oh, Carlton, we are going to have fun." Gerry disappeared for a moment. Lassiter could hear stuff moving around, before Gerry reappeared. His eyes widened slightly. "See, I figured out that I need to be more careful with your head. Believe me when I say that beating the hell out of someone when they can't feel it—well it 's no fun." Gerry held up what was in his hand. "I figure a low-grade stun gun would do wonders for now. The voltage isn't enough to cause you to lose consciousness. Not right away, anyway." A sneer crossed Gerry's lips before he aimed the stun gun, and hit the trigger.
Lassiter moaned out when the energy voltage hit his chest. He shook with it, and knew immediately that Gerry was correct in his assumption. The voltage was just high enough to inflict pain, but not high enough to force his body to shut down. Lassiter could tell by the look on Gerry's face, that he was hoping by the end of his stun gun torture, that Lassiter would be begging for death. Well, Gerry was in for disappointment. Even if Lassiter wasn't highly trained in handling torture, it wasn't something that was really needed for police officers, Lassiter knew how much he could handle before he would become a whimpering fool, begging for the end. It was going to take a hell of alot more than a little stun gun.
Shawn edged his way through the cabin. His brow wrinkled slightly as he tried to figure out where in the hell Gerry was hiding Lassiter. Vaguely, he remembered Juliet mentioning, offhandedly, that the second floor was merely one large room. So that left Shawn looking for something out of place. However, his luck and time was vastly running out. Obviously Gus had gotten Buzz the help he so desperately needed, or at least Shawn hoped he did. If that was the case, then the chief and Juliet knew that Shawn was in the cabin, and that meant that it was only a matter of time until they sent someone in to retrieve him. He had to find Gerry's secret hideout before then.
Shawn paused for a moment before entering the last room on the right. It was the only one he had yet to thoroughly check. He could definitely hear some muffled sounds. It almost sounded like an argument. Shawn's nose wrinkled as he carefully, tiptoed his way into the room. He peered around, but nothing caught his immediate attention. Instead he listened in on the the muffled noises until he froze. That was a scream. A heart-wrenching, pain-filled scream. Feeling against the wall, Shawn grinned. He found it!
The sick bastard had paneled over the door, but it was there. Pulling the wood paneling back from the wall, he saw the rickety old door. Taking a deep breath, Shawn steeled himself for what was about to happen. The older than dirt itself door was sure to squeak and creak, and give Shawn away. He was going to lose the element of surprise because he didn't carry around a can of WD-40 with him.
After a moment of contemplation, Shawn put a hand to the knob and gave it a firm twist. Without giving him even a moment to think, Shawn yanked the door open and cringed at the bone shattering screech it gave out. Well, Gerry knew someone was coming. Hopefully he thought it was someone more capable than a weaponless idiot with a migraine, because that was what Shawn felt he was at that moment.
Taking the steps two at a time, Shawn could only think that he wished that he had a flashlight so that it was at least a little less dark. He came to a screeching halt when he saw Lassiter. Even from this distance Shawn could see the glassy look in his eyes. The blood that was dried to the side of his face, but even worse was the torn material that used to be the detective's shirt laying frayed, hanging at his sides, showing off the dark, red burn marks along his chest and abdomen.
Shawn knew that he should be looking for Gerry, but he couldn't help it. He had to help Lassiter, he just had to. Shawn leapt forward, even as Lassiter was shaking his head back and forth. Ignoring him, Shawn went to work on the bindings that had bitten deeply into Lassiter's wrists, causing blood to pool underneath them on the concrete floor. Shawn was able to get one binding off, before he heard a shuffling behind him. Turning quickly, Shawn's eyes widen slightly.
"I didn't want to have to do this, but you've ruined everything!" Gerry shouted. His eyes flicking nervously around the room. A gun was pressed tightly to Julie's head. The young girl was sobbing as she tried to curl into herself.
Shawn took a deep breath. His hands held out in front of him. "Look, Gerry, you don't have to do this. Give yourself up now. You haven't killed anyone yet. This is fixable, let me help you."
Gerry shook his head. "No! I killed that officer. You're lying!"
Shawn slowly shook his head. "Officer McNab is alive. He is receiving medical attention as we speak. Just, let Julie go. Drop the gun. Let me walk you out the door. I promise. You'll be fine."
"You're lying! That's what you do! You're a liar and you are lying to me now! They'll kill me the first chance they get!"
Shawn sighed. He knew that his current tactic wasn't working, and he knew what he needed to do. He just hoped that Lassiter was working on that last binding, because if Lassiter didn't get free soon then Shawn would definitely be a dead man.
He walked forward slowly, his steps deliberate, with his hands still up in front of him. "Look. Just—let the girl go, Gerry. Take me instead. Like you said, it's all my fault. I ruined your perfect plan-" Shawn paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "you and I both know that he," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward Lassiter, "would have never found out who you really were or where you were hiding out. This is all my fault. Let me be punished for it. Not the girl."
Gerry stared at Shawn, before peering down at Julie who was still sobbing. "I don't want to hurt her. It was never the plan. I just-" A sob broke through Gerry's mouth, "she said that she loved me! I believed her, but she was just using me. She just wanted information, and when she got it-" Gerry's hand dropped as his body heaved another sob.
Shawn reached out, and snatched a hold of Julie. "Go. Run to the man in the back of the room, he'll keep you safe." He waited until the little girl nodded through her tears, and took off running before he continued to approach Gerry. "I get that man. It's so rough. I understand it, but it's not Julie's fault." Shawn reached out for the gun as Gerry raised his head again.
"You're doing the same thing! You're just using me." A deep hatred formed in Gerry's eyes as he angled the gun toward Shawn.
Shawn knew if he stood in the same position that Gerry would shoot him. Instead, he lurched forward, one of his hands went for the hand that held the gun, while Shawn's other hand blindly launched forward in an attempt to punch Gerry. He landed on shot to Gerry's stomach, causing Gerry to lurch forward in a grunt. Shawn's hand that was stopping Gerry from aiming the gun, slipped. The butt of the gun came crashing down on top of Shawn's head, causing Shawn to crumple to the ground in an unconscious heap. The gun went off, and a scream pierced the air.