Time passed by with little incidence. Cases were closed and everything seemed to be slowing down. The only problem the SBPD was having seemed to be the Luke Ferrell Case. It looked like it was going cold.
Lassiter hated cold cases.
Lassiter also hated not knowing certain things about Shawn Spencer.
Right now, December had just rolled in and Lassiter had no idea what to get his boyfriend for Christmas. He thought about every possibility, but they all seemed too impersonal, or something any guy would get for just a passing fling. Shawn was not just a passing fling. He was so much more therefore he deserved so much more.
Hence Carlton Lassiter’s predicament.
Sighing, Lassiter returned to his paperwork. He spent several hours finishing up his work until it was finally time to head home. Shawn had said something about getting some new T.V. show to watch. He remembered bemusedly Shawn’s expression when he had found it on some internet site.
“Lassie!” Shawn had said. He was spread out over Lassiter’s lap on the couch, his iPhone in front of him.
“Yeah, Shawn?” Lassiter looked down to Shawn from his case files. “This case is important. The Chief said to put it as top priority. A Vet was killed.”
Shawn rolled his eyes. “The guy’s former superior officer did it. It’s his knife.”
Lassiter narrowed his eyes. “How do you know? Did you have a vision?”
Shawn laughed. “Oh, Lassie. Not everything I do is related to being psychic.”
Lassiter thought for a minute, then mentally smacked himself. “Right. Eidetic memory.” Then, “Where’s the physical evidence?”
“Remember the one superior guy’s office with the knives hanging on the wall?” Lassiter nodded. “Well, one of them was missing. The slot is the size of that knife. I guarantee you it’ll fit.”
“And you couldn’t say anything sooner?”
Shawn blushed and looked a bit sheepish. “I thought that folder was ‘the case is solved already’ folder.”
For some reason, that look made Lassiter laugh. “Well, since the case is solved, what did you need?”
Shawn sat up cheerfully. “Okay, tomorrow night, or whenever you can, we’re gonna watch a T.V. show. I bet you’ll like it…”
Dammit… He thought, coming back to the present. Almost immediately his thoughts switched to Shawn which, irritably, brought his thoughts back to Christmas. Why am I so bad at this? He wondered.
He could get him something like that pineapple collection online. He shook his head. Someone was bound to get him that already.
Suddenly, a thought went through his mind. It was shot in the dark, but it was an idea. He didn’t know how his psychic would feel about it, but he’d give it a shot. Shawn had no pictures of his biological mother, so what if he put together whatever pictures he could find? Lassiter continued driving the road home and only stopping to get Shawn a smoothie, content with his present idea.
Meanwhile, Shawn was having a similar problem, though he was panicking a bit more. Is Lassie still a Catholic? He’s gay, well, he’s in a gay relationship, so does that nullify his status? He thought. What if I condemned him to eternal damnation? Shawn shook his head. Why would we fall in love and be Soul Mates if it was a sin? He thought, then panicked again. Stop getting sidetracked!
Shawn was still panicking when Lassiter came through the door. Lassiter, feeling Shawn’s panic, walked warily over to Shawn, who jumped. Lassiter laughed, saying, “Hey.” He greeted with a smile. “Sorry.” He leaned down to kiss Shawn, then handed Shawn his Pineapple Smoothie.
Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Lassie! And I thought you didn’t care!”
The detective rolled his eyes at that blatantly untrue statement. As the gypsy took a sip, Lassiter asked, “So what did you do today?”
Shawn, without missing a beat, said, “What do you want for Christmas?”
Lassiter blinked. “Well, you’re straight-forward, aren’t you?”
Shawn shook his head. “You knew that five months ago when we started dating. Our six months is coming up, isn’t it? What do you want?”
Lassiter had caught on a long time ago to Shawn’s sudden changes in subject. He usually knew to stick with the last one he brought up. “Whatever you want to give is fine. You don’t have to get me anything, Shawn.” Shawn glared, showing that was not an option. Trying to placate him, Lassiter said, “You could give me your company.”
“I give you that every day. It’s gotta be something good… Something you wouldn’t expect…”
“Well, if I can’t expect it, why are you asking me?”
Shawn’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Hmm… I don’t know.”
“Well, think about it later. It’ll come to you. You’re smart.” Lassiter smiled. “Now come here so we can watch that damn T.V. show you’ve been dying to watch. I left work to watch this with you.”
Shawn started jumping. “I almost forgot! Lassie, you’re gonna love The Walking Dead. I can’t believe you’ve never heard of it!”
Lassiter rolled his eyes, but sat down with his boyfriend to watch a show he thought was some 1980s sitcom that Shawn had an obsession with. He will watch those with no sleep… He thought, remembering he had to Command Shawn to go to sleep when he watched Friends. The psychic didn’t talk to him for almost thirty minutes the next day. For Shawn, that’s a hard thing to do.
As it turned out The Walking Dead was really about the walking dead. Zombies. Guns. Lassiter’s thing. They only paused for food and bathroom breaks. Admittedly it was paused longer during their food breaks because they suddenly transformed into teenagers and made out on the couch.
After one of the many episodes they had watched that night, Shawn had started crying so hard that they had to pause the next episode. “Shawn, it’s okay. It’s just a T.V. show.” Lassiter said.
“I know!” He cried. “But she was so young! She didn’t have to die! She and Carl were going to grow up and make little, zombie-killing babies! My dream is ruined!” Lassiter could only wrap his arms around Shawn and refuse to believe that he was tearing up at the memory of the little girl walking out of the barn.
Around midnight, in the middle of a particularly scary episode (for Shawn), Shawn grabbed the detective, huddling close and shaking. “Are you okay, babe?” Lassiter asked.
Shawn smiled weakly. “Zombies admittedly scare me. They give me nightmares.”
Lassiter glared. “Then why the hell are you watching this? Why torture yourself like that?”
Shawn looked away and blushed. “Because I had a feeling you’d like it.”
The older man’s face softened. “Shawn, you don’t need to put yourself through something like this if it scares you that much.”
“But I like watching T.V. shows with you. You get a sort of gleam in your eyes that I don’t see very often. The only time I get to see something like that is when…” He trailed off, not sure where he remembered seeing it. He remembered the expression well. It was a kind of pure happiness. Here, watching T.V. with Lassiter was kind of close to the expression, though not exactly the same.
“When I look at you.” Lassiter finished.
Shawn smiled. “Yeah. Kind of. Though here you’re not as… as…”
Lassiter smiled back. “Happy?” Shawn nodded. “Well yeah. I’m pretty sure you make me happier than zombies on a television, Shawn. In fact, I’m positive of that.”
It was then that someone screamed on the show and Shawn jumped burying his face into Lassiter’s chest. The detective hastily turned off the T.V. then turned to Shawn and peeled him from his body long enough to look into Shawn’s eyes. “Is there a reason you’re afraid of zombies?”
Shawn chewed on his bottom lip, not sure if Lassiter would understand. “You might think it’s a dumb reason.”
“Well then, so be it.” Lassiter said.
Shawn sighed. He was cornered. “Well, it’s just the idea behind the zombie more than anything. Zombies are essentially the dead coming back to life, but they only have a small fraction of their former self within them, which is their hunger. That hunger is morphed into something sick, infecting others by the millions.
“But think about it. You died a horrific death. You’re eaten alive by those you formerly called your neighbors, your family. Then, when you finally manage to get to the dead plane, or even get the chance to move on, a part of you is ripped back into your rotting body. The rest of you is forced to stay in the dead plane for all eternity. You can never really die in this state. You can never move on in this state. You’re only a fraction of your former self, and that fraction has been twisted beyond repair. If you manage to die again, whether by the surviving humans or other causes, what happens afterwards? Is that insatiable hunger still with you when that part of you returns to the rest of your soul in the dead plane? Or is it repaired as you make the transition? There’s too many unknowns to zombies. That’s why they scare me.”
It was at this moment that Lassiter truly wondered just how much Shawn’s psychic powers affected him. Shawn was so caring towards everyone. He wondered why he never saw it before. He knew Shawn was a good person, but he didn’t realize just how much of Shawn was dedicated to others, even, he noted, the undead. On the next case I’ll take a good look. He vowed.
-
As it turns out that next case came up a few days later.
It was about two in the morning when Shawn woke up, shaking Lassiter frantically. “Carlton, we gotta go!”
On instinct Lassiter was up. “Where?”
Shawn’s winced in pain. He looked scared, but looked as if he were staring at something else. This was rare, but sometimes Shawn would have visions where he could still talk to those that were near his physical body. “She’s going to die. We’re gonna be too late.”
“Shawn, what time is it?”
“Two thirty.”
Lassiter looked at the clock. Damn. It was five till that time. “Shawn, look at the killer’s face. Is there only one?”
“Yes.”
“How many people are in the room?”
“Three.”
“Where is the third person? Who is it?”
“She’s hiding in the closet. She’s watching her mother”-
The connection was broken, but Lassiter didn’t need a warning. He was already taking hold of Shawn before he even had the chance to fall off the bed. He woke a second later. “Carlton…”
“I know, Shawn. I know.” He said. “I have one question more. Will the mother’s kid be safe?”
“I-I don’t know.” He was crying. Lassiter could only hold him tighter, thinking that Shawn’s was too sympathetic to be having visions and cursing God or Fate and whoever came to his mind for making him grow so attached to the people he saw in his visions.
Deep down, Lassiter’s selfish side thought that was ridiculous. If Shawn were that cold-hearted he would’ve left you a long time ago.
“Then let’s hurry.”
They were at the house in minutes. Lassiter had already called O’Hara and the Chief. They would both be there soon. “SBPD! We’re coming in!”
Lassiter broke the locked door while sending a glare Shawn’s way, silently telling him to stay behind him. Shawn obeyed, but as soon as the door was open, Shawn went to the closet to pull the child out.
She looked to be no older than seven. She was crying as Shawn pulled her away from her mother’s body. Shawn, Lassiter noted, had not once looked at the mother.
The team pulled up not long after that. They investigated the scene and Shawn gave his accounts to the police, but that’s not where the gypsy’s attention really was. It was more towards this girl. Lassiter watched the developing scene carefully and quietly.
“Hey there.” Shawn said. “What’s your name?”
“H-Holly.”
“Holly? That’s a pretty name. Like a holly jolly Christmas.” He smiled. Noting she was shivering, he took his coat off and wrapped it around the girl. “Do you like Christmas?”
She nodded. “What happened to Mommy? That bad man hurt her. Is she okay?”
Shawn looked at the girl with a sadness that, Lassiter realized, was empathetic. The detective mentally hit himself. This was probably an eerie resemblance to the death of his mother for Shawn. Lassiter noticed that Shawn seemed to be listening to something. Probably the mother’s spirit.
“Your Mommy told me that she went to see Grandma. Do you remember Grandma?”
Holly began to tear up. Her voice breaking, she cried, “But, Mommy always told me that if she visited Grandma, she couldn’t come back and see me! Is she not coming back?”
Shawn looked heartbroken. “No. She’s not coming back.”
The girl held onto Shawn and cried. In his frantic mind, he didn’t want this girl to be hurt anymore, so he did the only thing he could. He absorbed every ounce of emotional pain from her into his own soul. The pain she felt was very close to his own when he was a kid. So close, in fact, he gasped. Fear overtook him as he thought he wouldn’t be able to handle it. However, the mother’s spirit took his hand and he looked up at her. “Thank you for helping my daughter. She has a father south of here.” She explained. Looking sadly at Shawn, she said, “You seem like you understand her pain.” Shawn could only nod. “Well, how did you get over it?” Shawn looked at Lassiter, finding the strength to smile. The woman laughed affectionately. “Give my daughter her emotions back, but send that feeling to her instead. Make her feel what you feel. I can see it in your eyes. You feel a sense of belonging with that man, a sense of purpose, of love.” She looked at her daughter. “Give her the feeling that she will always be loved, if that’s possible.” Shawn nodded and did exactly what the woman said. The daughter fell asleep quickly, and the paramedics took her, giving his coat back.
Shawn turned to the mother and said, “I’m sorry…”
She smiled. “It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could’ve made it on time.”
“Your daughter will have to go through Hell and back to get through this.” He admitted. “I know I did.”
“Well, it’s a good thing her father is a good man.”
“Why are you guys separated?”
She sighed. “I made a mistake.”
Shawn nodded. “What’re you going to do?”
“Hopefully watch over my daughter until I know she doesn’t need it anymore.”
Shawn smiled sadly. His mother had chosen to move on. Well, that’s what he assumed. He’d searched the dead plane off and on for years, hoping he could find her and tell her he was doing okay, that he was getting better, but he’d never found her. “Well, if she ever wants to chat, tell her to hit up the local psychic.”
She laughed. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“From my experience with spirits, and I have a lot of experience, a mother always finds a way.”
She nodded. “Well, goodbye…”
“Shawn. Shawn Spencer.”
“Goodbye, Shawn.” Then, she disappeared, probably to the ambulance with her daughter.
Suddenly, Shawn felt an unknown, evil presence somewhere close. He looked to the source, staring the thing down when he recognized the thing, the person. Before he could shout, he was enveloped in a black light that was shot at him. Shit. No…
In a daze, Shawn started walking towards the detective, but Lassiter was on Shawn within seconds. “Shawn, what did you do? What were you looking at?”
The flashbacks to his childhood hit him every few seconds. He was reliving entire scenes with every blink of an eye. His father’s abusive nature, the yelling, his mother’s bloodied body, he relived it all…
Lassiter was horrified. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong if he could sense it through their bond. It had to be something terrible if he could feel it like that without Shawn’s open allowance of letting the emotions flow through the bond. The main emotion Shawn was feeling was almost like he was returning to a fear he had already faced, or a childhood fear. Connecting the pieces together, he figured Shawn had done something, or had accidentally triggered an emotional relapse. As Lassiter held him, however, it started to decrease, but he was still worried. He had to find someone who could check on him.
Thinking of where to take his Soul Mate, he decided on the one option. He told the Chief he had to take care of Shawn, saying the vision was strong and had made him sick. Lassiter took Shawn to his car and drove to the one person that might know more about this feeling he was getting from the gypsy than anyone.
Henry Spencer.
He more or less dragged Shawn to Henry’s door, barging in rather than knocking. “Who the hell… Lassiter?” Henry said. The older man looked like he had just gotten back from outside. Probably chopping wood for the fireplace. Henry then took a look at Shawn. “What the fuck did you do to my son?”
“I didn’t do anything… sir.” He added as an afterthought. “He just sort of came up to me like this.”
“Dammit.” Henry said. “Give me all your weapons then take him to the basement. There’s a mattress attached to the floor down there. Lay him on it and put this on his wrist.” As Lassiter put his gun holster on the counter Henry pulled out, to the detective’s surprise, a wrap of fine, red silk.
“You’re serious, aren’t you? Why the hell would I put this on him?”
Henry sighed, knowing this was coming. “Lassiter, listen. Hear me out. Binding his powers is the only way to help him right now.”
“Why?”
“Because Shawn’s relapsed. Something’s triggered flashbacks and, if you don’t bind his powers, he will use them to kill himself.”
Lassiter stared at Shawn. Had he allowed this to happen? Had he failed Shawn? “Lassiter!” Henry yelled, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Hurry! He’s gonna wake up soon!”
He nodded. They went to the basement, which was, in a sense, cozy, homey. The only thing that seemed off was that there was nothing with an immediate edge to it. No weapons. No knives. No bed frames. Everything was dulled.
“Lay him on the bed.”
Lassiter obeyed.
“Tie his wrist with the silk.”
Lassiter hesitated.
“Detective, what are you waiting for?”
He shook his head. “This isn’t right.”
“I’ve been doing this since he had his first relapse. I think I know what I’m doing. Tie his wrist.”
Lassiter eyed Henry suspiciously. “Henry, how did you train Shawn when he was a kid?”
Henry glared. “I didn’t train him. He already had what it took to be a cop.”
Oh no. Lassiter thought. Shit.
Calling on his Dominant side he turned to Henry and said, “Shawn. Wake up.”
“What are you doing?” Henry shouted.
“He’s following his gut.”
Lassiter looked at Shawn, who had managed to stand up. “Are you alright, Shawn?”
Shawn smiled. “I will be. Let me take care of that bastard first.”
The gypsy, calling on a power he hadn’t called since he learned how, felt the familiar presence start to consume him. It would take a while, but the power would build to save his father. His real father.
Henry Spencer was possessed. The only people who can possess the living are the dead and gypsies. It is forbidden in gypsy law, but that wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was who had control of him: Luke.
As Shawn was the only male gypsy with powers, saying this was strange was an understatement. If he has these powers, where did he get them from? How long has he had them?
Then he thought of other, more troubling questions: What is the mind-controlling necklace for? Is it a decoy? Or is it the source?
“Shawn, what’re you doing? What’s wrong with Henry?”
“He’s possessed by Luke. I have to get him out of his body.”
Lassiter nodded, somehow knowing what he had to do. “Affirmative.” Then, the detective charged, doing his best to grab Henry (Luke?) and pin him down. Lassiter seemed to be the only one who heard Shawn whisper, “Be careful. I can’t lose either of you.”
Luke got into a defensive stance, using this body’s muscle memory to brace himself. However, the detective was younger and bigger than him, so he fell backwards. But, as Luke somehow had powers, he held his hand out to push Lassiter back. Lassiter’s back hit the wall and he grunted in pain and slipped into unconsciousness.
“Lassie!” Shawn yelled. He looked at Lassiter. Blood was coming from a gash in his shoulder and the back of his head.
He was almost there. He was so close, but Luke was already charging him.
Shawn was pressed into the wall behind him, his head hitting first. He tried to gasp from the pain, but Luke had a hand around his throat. He was going to be killed looking into the angry eyes of the man that promised he would never hurt him. “C’mon Shawn, just come back to Daddy and I’ll make this stop.”
“What?” He gasped as Luke tightened his fingers on his throat.
Luke smirked. “Give your Will to me and I’ll make this stop. I’ll stop hurting these powerless humans if you hand it over willingly.”
“No…” His lips were changing color.
“Then die.”
“Dad…” Shawn choked out. “Dad, stop.” Shawn’s eyes were starting to roll.
The man laughed. “You really think that’s gonna”-
Luke was cut off by something. Shawn felt it.
Henry was fighting.
And he was winning.
Through gritted teeth, Henry said, “Listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch. You lost your chance. This is my kid.”
Shawn felt the hand leave his neck, giving him a chance to breathe and take in the last of the power needed to help Henry – his father – get that bastard out of his body. But he was weakened by lack of oxygen. He slid down the wall. He couldn’t move.
In his mind, he heard, I’m here. Take my strength.
Shawn looked at Lassiter, who nodded.
Through the bond, Shawn took a piece of Lassiter and added it to his own strength. Lassiter passed out again, but it was enough. Shawn held out his hands forcing the power within to physically show itself. “Dad, take it.” He said.
Henry forced his overtaken body to take the palpable power. With Shawn’s help, they pushed the purple light into his chest. The light spread through Henry’s body and the older man staggered a bit. Then, an explosion of black darkness escaped from his body and disappeared to wherever Luke’s physical body was. The last thing Shawn felt and heard before he fell into the bittersweet embrace of unconsciousness was Henry’s arms around him and, “Spencers never break promises. I love you, son.”
Henry followed Shawn into unconsciousness soon afterwards.
-
Lassiter woke up first, his head and shoulder screaming with pain. Forcing himself to up, he looked around the dark room. They were still in Henry’s basement. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed Henry slumped over Shawn in a protective manner. He smiled, but the movement in his face jarred his head and he winced.
Henry started to stir, his head hurting as well, but he was more vocal. “Fuck…”
“Henry, are you alright?” Lassiter asked, his voice gruff.
“Yeah, Lassiter. Can you move?”
Lassiter tested his muscles. “Yeah. Slowly, but yeah.”
“Go get the phone. We need to call Hera and get the council. This has gone too far.”
Henry was tired, but even Lassiter heard that the ex-cop was ready to tear heads apart. “Yes, sir.” Lassiter said.
He slowly got up and up the stairs to call Hera, a number he’d memorized over the months. Lassiter and Shawn learned a lot from Hera. There were certain, strange things that came with the Soul Mate bond that Lassiter never could understand. For example, they could talk telepathically. Lassiter always knew where Shawn was at any given time. He didn’t know how, but he knew. A newer ability that came with this was that Shawn could allow Lassiter to see a vision. Sometimes the detective was unintentionally pulled in. For a while he was scared to drive until Shawn explained that Fate never gave visions that a person couldn’t handle or when it was dangerous.
Hera’s voice on the other line knocked Lassiter from his thoughts. “Detective, it’s really early. What’s the matter?”
“I need you to come to Henry Spencer’s house. Bring the council with you.”
Her tone changed to a more serious one. “You are a Powerless. Who do you speak for?”
“My Soul Mate, Shawn Spencer. He is currently incapacitated, but a series of events have taken place that require the council’s immediate attention.” Lassiter smirked, priding himself on his ability to know how to formally talk to gypsies. Tradition and all… He thought.
Hera nodded, though Lassiter obviously couldn’t see it. “Very well. The council will be there soon.” She sighed. “Is there anything else?”
“Hurry.”
They hung up after that.
Lassiter raced down the stairs then, hoping that maybe Shawn was awake. His hopes were crushed when he saw that Henry had moved his son to the bed. The detective sighed, running a hand over his face. He paced and breathed heavily, then, in his frustration, punched the door of the large freezer with a loud, “Fuck!”
Henry would normally tear Lassiter a new one for damaging his property, but he felt for the man. Shawn was getting hurt left and right, all by the same man. This attack, however, hit Henry close to home. He was able to fight Luke off, but at what cost? A noise broke Henry from his thoughts and look to his son. Shawn’s breathing had quickened and he was shivering. “Lassiter?” Henry called, not bothering to look up. When he didn’t receive a response he looked up. “Lassiter…” He trailed off when he noticed Lassiter slumped unconscious on the ground, breathing heavily and shivering, exactly like Shawn. “Shit!”
Just then a knock on the door upstairs was heard. “Goddammit! What now?”
He ran upstairs quickly, remembering that he had Lassiter call the council. He had learned some very important information while Luke was in his body, but he would tell the council that later. Right now, something was wrong with his son and, apparently, his Soul Mate. Henry deduced from this that Lassiter and Shawn were connected. If something happened to one, it happened to the other. Now, the only problem was whether something was wrong with Shawn and it lashed back to Lassiter or vice versa.
He reached for the front door. “Hera, you have to hurry. Shawn”-
He couldn’t believe it. This was not happening. There, on his front porch was someone he never thought he’d see again. He blinked several times, making sure that the brunette hair and extremely familiar, expressive gaze was not a mirage. Then, he spoke, the woman’s name sounding foreign on his lips.
“Elizabeth?”
