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What Would You Do? If It Was Your Best Friend.	By : ShellH Category: M through R > Psych Views: 1497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Pt. 2
- 3-Pt. 3
- 4-Part 4
- 1
- 2
Title: What Would You Do? If It Was Your Best Friend.
Author: Lady Erin
Rating: PG to NC-17
Fandom: Psych
Pairing/Characters: Carlton/Shawn
Word Count: Pt.1, 988 Final, Who knows.
Warnings: Deathfic, angst, angst, and more angst.
Beta: Scarlet Mac Gregor, Raistlin and the plot
bunnies in my head.
Feedback: Used as tasty treats for the bunnies.
Disclaimer: Nope. I don�t own them. They would never
show an episode with this much angst.
Author's Notes: I killed Gus� I�m so sorry! This story
is based around two comments the character Alice said in the episode Scary Sherry, it
should be pretty obvious.

SUMMARY: Gus is killed; Shawn can�t deal with it so
his friends decide to intervene.

Jules was the first, three days after the funeral she
knocked on his door, Shawn lay on the couch in the dark, ignoring her until she
went away.

A couple of days later Buzz was the next to try, he
knocked for a while, but he too eventually gave up.

A week after that his dad was pounding on the door,
yelling through it. �Shawn I know you�re in there! Open the goddamn door! Right
now Shawn! I swear I�ll kick it down!� Shawn didn�t think he actually would and
he was right, some time later his dad gave a defeated sigh, saying softly. �Ok
kiddo, if that�s the way you want it.� Then he left, leaving Shawn alone in the
dark. Shawn knew his dad had given up way to easily and expected to get a call
from Chief Vick, when the call came he let the voice mail get it, not even
bothering to check the message.

It had been a month since the incident, Shawn hadn�t
moved from the couch other than to use the bathroom and that was rare. The only
thing he�d eaten and kept down was some chips and a couple of handfuls of dry
cereal. He just laid there in the dark his head pounding, every time he�d think
there were no more tears left, he�d start crying again, with that day running
through his head like some horrible scene from a bad movie stuck on repeat and
he couldn�t find the stop button.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a bright sunny day, not unusual for California, he and Gus
had just left the espresso shop. Gus was teasing him about his addiction to
pineapple smoothies and laughing at his insistence that the barista was indeed
flirting with him and not Shawn.

He was turning towards him with a grin, when Shawn
heard a zinging sound, his grin changed to a look of surprise and Shawn saw a
red stain appear and grow on his friends� chest.

With the realization that Gus had been shot, Shawn
grabbed him as he started to fall ending up sitting on the ground holding Gus
in his arms. There was nothing he could do, no time to do anything to stop it,
by the time they hit the ground Gus was dead. Still holding onto his best
friends� body he pulled Gus�s cell phone from his pants pocket because as usual
he�d left his own in Gus� car, calmly he called Chief Vick and told her that
Gus had just been shot and that he was dead, he then gave her their location,
vaguely listening as she told him not to move, that the cavalry was on the way.

It seemed like only seconds before there were squad
cars with wailing sirens surrounding him along with the SUV�s belonging to the
CSI teams. There were people everywhere, swarming around him, putting up crime
scene tape, snapping photographs and collecting evidence. But no one came near
him and Gus.

Then Chief Vick�s hand was on his shoulder and he knew
she was talking to him but it was like her voice was coming through a fog.

�Mr. Spencer� Shawn, you need to let go now, they have
to examine the bod�� they have to look at Gus.�

He wanted to do as she said, he tried, but he couldn�t
get his hands and arms to work, they were frozen in place and wouldn�t move.

He heard Lassiter saying with a long, suffering sigh,
�I�ve got it Chief.� Large warm hands enveloped his own, tenderly prying them
from Gus� body, before pulling him to his feet, a strong arm was placed around
his shoulders and gently guided him to Lassiters� red Crown Vic, he felt a warm
wetness running down his face and only then realized he was crying. He was
carefully placed in the passenger seat and buckled in, then Lassiter got in the
drivers seat and drove them to the station.

During the trip Lassiter made the comment, �So no
psychic vision on this one, huh?� when he got no reply he glanced over at Shawn
and started to say, �To bad Guster didn�t have a real�� his sentence trailed
off as he saw Shawn flinch and a look of genuine anguish crossed his face, what
with the tears falling down Lassiter felt like he�d just kicked an abused
puppy. The rest of the drive was made in silence.

When they got to the station Shawn sat in front of
Lassiter�s desk and made a detailed statement on everything that had happened,
no visions, no flailing, no more than concise, straight forward, no-nonsense
facts. He gave Lassiter the keys to the office and signed a form giving the Santa Barbara police
department permission to look through their case files.

Lassiter disappeared for a while, when he came back he
informed Shawn with a sour look that he was driving him home. Shawn�s only
response was to quietly get up and follow him out to the car.

On the way to his apartment Lassiter told him that the
Chief had called Gus�s parents and broken the news of his death to them, also
she�d called Shawn�s dad who said if he wanted to talk he had his number. Shawn
couldn�t quite stifle the irritated sigh, there was no way in hell he could
deal with his father right now and he wasn�t even going to bother trying.

Lassiter dropped him off with a final, �We�ll call if
we need to speak to you again� and Spencer, I�m sorry about your friend.� Shawn
glanced back at him and saw the briefest glimpse of sympathy on the usually
stoic detective�s face.

Finally alone and in the safety of his own home, Shawn
allowed himself to break down, sobbing out his anger and grief, punching the
couch cushions �til his knuckles were raw, before passing out in a mindless
exhaustion.
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What Would You Do? If It Was Your Best Friend.