Riddle and Rhyme
You Can Only Pray When You're Waiting out the Hurricane
There's only so many times a grown man can wake up screaming in terror before it gets weird. And mildly annoying. But mostly just weird.
Shawn Spencer hadn't been able to sleep a wink the last few months. Oh, sure, he can fall asleep. The problem is that he can't stay asleep, not for more than an hour or two at a time. After that, he'll wake up in a cold sweat, yelling and, occasionally, crying. Because, you see, the thing is...Shawn keeps dreaming of his dead mother.
---
When he called Gus about the nightmare five minutes later, the first thing that his friend suggested was to go for a run. Shawn, however, thought it was an incredibly stupid idea. He voiced this opinion, only to receive a long, drawn out groan in response.
"Shawn, don't go calling me up in the middle of the night if you aren't even going to listen to my ideas," Gus moaned. "And don't you dare roll your eyes."
Shawn rolled his eyes. Although Gus was not psychic, he knew his best friend well enough to know that he was doing it anyway.
"What did I just tell you?!" Gus whisper-yelled. "Just go for a run, Shawn. It'll clear your head. Besides, you really need to exercise."
Shawn mulled this over for a few minutes. On one hand, who knew what kind of freaks were out and about in Santa Barbara at this time of the night? Shawn could be running along, minding his own business, and end up getting attacked. But on the plus side, he wouldn't have to go back to sleep. And not going back to sleep meant not dreaming about his dead mom, which frankly, beat out the risk of being attacked by some crazy serial killer.
"You know what, Gus? I think I will," Shawn said finally. "Meet you outside the station?"
"Sure," Gus said tiredly before he realizes what's just happened. He'd let himself get duped by Shawn Spencer yet again.
"Great!" Shawn chimed, moving to put the phone down.
"Shawn! I'm serious! Wait, Shawn! Shawn!" He could still hear Gus's cries of protest as he hung up, smiling to himself.
---
It takes about twenty minutes and a cup of tea before Shawn's ready to go. He knew Gus would already be at the station, standing next to the Psych mobile with an annoyed expression on his face. But he doesn't allow that to damper his mood in the slightest, plastering on a smile and jogging at an even pace.
He watched the cars slide by in his peripheral vision as he ran, his thoughts slowly thinning out to just the basics of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Gus was certainly right in his hypothesis - Shawn had trouble remembering a time when his mind had been this clear. It was both a refreshing change and a slightly unsettling one.
A shadow lapped at the edge of Shawn's eyesight, causing his feet to stutter and nearly trip himself. He managed to right himself quickly, however, and picked up his pace just to make sure he wasn't about to get killed by some crazy person. Unfortunately, his little interruption has allowed his mind to drift. Thoughts of his nightmare and the incident last spring began to overtake his head, the fear spreading down his whole body in a slow, controlled wave. Shawn felt like he was going to freeze to death at any second, his mind locking onto the frightened look his mother had given him right before Yang had pressed the detonator. He gasped, the memory hitting him hard in the chest, as if it was a physical object and not a thought. His feet slipped out from under him and Shawn found himself heading rapidly toward the pavement, his hands darting out to try and soften the blow some. They scraped along the asphalt, his full weight thrown behind it.
Shawn breathed for a while. Just in and out, in and out at a steady pace until his chest wasn't heaving so much anymore. Then he reached for his cell phone and called Gus.
"Shawn! Where the hell are you? You know I don't like being left alone in deserted places at night!" Gus yelled angrily. Shawn didn't even answer right away, he just breathed a few more times. That's how Gus realized something was wrong. "Shawn?"
"I'm a block away from you. I sort of tripped myself up," he explained, trying to keep his voice light. There was no need to worry Gus. He was fine. Maybe a little worse for wear, but not permanently damaged. With a couple of globs of Neosporin, his hands would be fixed in just a few days. His mind might take a little longer, but it was still nothing that Shawn couldn't handle already. He'd been doing okay the last few months - what was a few more, if it spared the people he loved from any more pain?
A few shuffling sounds came from Gus's end of the line. "Stay there, I'll bring the car," he promised, and not even a second after he'd spoken could Shawn hear the sound of the engine starting up. He allowed himself a small smile, then mumbled a quick goodbye and ended the call. It then occurred to him that he should probably move out of the road, just in case a drunk driver came speeding through town and decided he'd be a good target to splatter across their windshield, so he did.
---
When Gus pulled up next to the curb at 2:03, Shawn slipped into the passenger seat wordlessly, massaging his hands. Gus didn't ask him to explain. He'd always sort of known that the nightmares and visions had never gone away, even before Shawn had started mentioning them to him again. It was that childhood best friend instinct that some people just had, Henry had insisted. But Gus just happens to know that Shawn doesn't hide his emotions as well as he (and, consequently, everyone else) thinks he does.
Shawn stared down at his hands. If only there was a mental Neosporin - then he'd be in good shape. Just sitting in the passenger seat dislodged another Yang memory. His mother had been sitting in the passenger seat when she died...when Yang had blown both of them up. And now that he'd started thinking about it, Shawn couldn't shut it off. It was like a tape stuck in a VCR, only it was worse because this was his life. This was a memory that had actually happened. Shawn had watched his own mother die, right in front of him.
He tries to act like it doesn't bother him. Really, he does. But sometimes, Shawn just can't help it. He lets out a sob so quiet and so broken that Gus literally feels his heart wrench at the sound. That - those rare moments where Gus gets to see Shawn and the pain he's dealing with - is why he can't leave him alone just yet. He'll always be waiting, waiting, waiting for a small glimpse of his best friend. The one that he's known since childhood, and not the strange replacement he's had since that night.
Shawn Spencer hadn't been able to sleep a wink the last few months. Oh, sure, he can fall asleep. The problem is that he can't stay asleep, not for more than an hour or two at a time. After that, he'll wake up in a cold sweat, yelling and, occasionally, crying. Because, you see, the thing is...Shawn keeps dreaming of his dead mother.
---
When he called Gus about the nightmare five minutes later, the first thing that his friend suggested was to go for a run. Shawn, however, thought it was an incredibly stupid idea. He voiced this opinion, only to receive a long, drawn out groan in response.
"Shawn, don't go calling me up in the middle of the night if you aren't even going to listen to my ideas," Gus moaned. "And don't you dare roll your eyes."
Shawn rolled his eyes. Although Gus was not psychic, he knew his best friend well enough to know that he was doing it anyway.
"What did I just tell you?!" Gus whisper-yelled. "Just go for a run, Shawn. It'll clear your head. Besides, you really need to exercise."
Shawn mulled this over for a few minutes. On one hand, who knew what kind of freaks were out and about in Santa Barbara at this time of the night? Shawn could be running along, minding his own business, and end up getting attacked. But on the plus side, he wouldn't have to go back to sleep. And not going back to sleep meant not dreaming about his dead mom, which frankly, beat out the risk of being attacked by some crazy serial killer.
"You know what, Gus? I think I will," Shawn said finally. "Meet you outside the station?"
"Sure," Gus said tiredly before he realizes what's just happened. He'd let himself get duped by Shawn Spencer yet again.
"Great!" Shawn chimed, moving to put the phone down.
"Shawn! I'm serious! Wait, Shawn! Shawn!" He could still hear Gus's cries of protest as he hung up, smiling to himself.
---
It takes about twenty minutes and a cup of tea before Shawn's ready to go. He knew Gus would already be at the station, standing next to the Psych mobile with an annoyed expression on his face. But he doesn't allow that to damper his mood in the slightest, plastering on a smile and jogging at an even pace.
He watched the cars slide by in his peripheral vision as he ran, his thoughts slowly thinning out to just the basics of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Gus was certainly right in his hypothesis - Shawn had trouble remembering a time when his mind had been this clear. It was both a refreshing change and a slightly unsettling one.
A shadow lapped at the edge of Shawn's eyesight, causing his feet to stutter and nearly trip himself. He managed to right himself quickly, however, and picked up his pace just to make sure he wasn't about to get killed by some crazy person. Unfortunately, his little interruption has allowed his mind to drift. Thoughts of his nightmare and the incident last spring began to overtake his head, the fear spreading down his whole body in a slow, controlled wave. Shawn felt like he was going to freeze to death at any second, his mind locking onto the frightened look his mother had given him right before Yang had pressed the detonator. He gasped, the memory hitting him hard in the chest, as if it was a physical object and not a thought. His feet slipped out from under him and Shawn found himself heading rapidly toward the pavement, his hands darting out to try and soften the blow some. They scraped along the asphalt, his full weight thrown behind it.
Shawn breathed for a while. Just in and out, in and out at a steady pace until his chest wasn't heaving so much anymore. Then he reached for his cell phone and called Gus.
"Shawn! Where the hell are you? You know I don't like being left alone in deserted places at night!" Gus yelled angrily. Shawn didn't even answer right away, he just breathed a few more times. That's how Gus realized something was wrong. "Shawn?"
"I'm a block away from you. I sort of tripped myself up," he explained, trying to keep his voice light. There was no need to worry Gus. He was fine. Maybe a little worse for wear, but not permanently damaged. With a couple of globs of Neosporin, his hands would be fixed in just a few days. His mind might take a little longer, but it was still nothing that Shawn couldn't handle already. He'd been doing okay the last few months - what was a few more, if it spared the people he loved from any more pain?
A few shuffling sounds came from Gus's end of the line. "Stay there, I'll bring the car," he promised, and not even a second after he'd spoken could Shawn hear the sound of the engine starting up. He allowed himself a small smile, then mumbled a quick goodbye and ended the call. It then occurred to him that he should probably move out of the road, just in case a drunk driver came speeding through town and decided he'd be a good target to splatter across their windshield, so he did.
---
When Gus pulled up next to the curb at 2:03, Shawn slipped into the passenger seat wordlessly, massaging his hands. Gus didn't ask him to explain. He'd always sort of known that the nightmares and visions had never gone away, even before Shawn had started mentioning them to him again. It was that childhood best friend instinct that some people just had, Henry had insisted. But Gus just happens to know that Shawn doesn't hide his emotions as well as he (and, consequently, everyone else) thinks he does.
Shawn stared down at his hands. If only there was a mental Neosporin - then he'd be in good shape. Just sitting in the passenger seat dislodged another Yang memory. His mother had been sitting in the passenger seat when she died...when Yang had blown both of them up. And now that he'd started thinking about it, Shawn couldn't shut it off. It was like a tape stuck in a VCR, only it was worse because this was his life. This was a memory that had actually happened. Shawn had watched his own mother die, right in front of him.
He tries to act like it doesn't bother him. Really, he does. But sometimes, Shawn just can't help it. He lets out a sob so quiet and so broken that Gus literally feels his heart wrench at the sound. That - those rare moments where Gus gets to see Shawn and the pain he's dealing with - is why he can't leave him alone just yet. He'll always be waiting, waiting, waiting for a small glimpse of his best friend. The one that he's known since childhood, and not the strange replacement he's had since that night.
♠ ♠ ♠
I spent around eight hours trying to get this to come out the way I wanted it to and for the most part, I think it worked, but I still might rewrite this somewhere down the road. We'll see. This is also the first piece of fiction I've written on my own since 2010, so I'm pretty proud of myself for seeing it through to the end.