"I've got this!" shouted Legend as he cut down another monster. "Get the kid!"
"On it!" shouted Warriors, trusting the veteran to watch his back as he turned away from their attackers and dived for the huddled form in the middle of the half-ruined room. Something screeched in rage and tried to dive towards him, only to hit the ground with one of Wild's arrows buried to the fletchings in its throat. He kept running as, in the corner of his eye, Sky cut down another monster and moved like lightning to block the advance of another.
He skidded to a halt beside the boy, dropping to his knees to start checking him over.
He was crying, which was a good sign; it meant he was breathing.
"All right," said Warriors as gently as he could. "Can you hear me? I'm here to help."
The boy uncurled just enough for Warriors to see one bright-blue eye gazing up at him.
"Are you hurt?"
The only answer was a sniffle and the boy curled up again.
"Warriors!" shouted Four.
Warriors looked up. An aeralfos had made it past the others and he sprang to his feet, drawing his sword in the same movement to cut it out of the air. It landed hard, skidding to land near the boy, and he swore, running after it, but the boy scrambled up, stabbing down at it with a little sword. By the time Warriors reached him, the monster was already dissolving.
"Well done," said Warriors.
The boy nodded, sniffing and wiping at his eyes with one hand, leaving a smear of monster blood to join the dirt and tears on his cheeks. He was panting shallowly, a hand hovering over his side.
"We're getting out of here," said Warriors, crouching to his height. "Can you run?"
"I… think so," sniffled the boy, but just then he stumbled and Warriors only just caught him. Without further comment, he scooped him up in his arms and shouted, "I have him!"
In his arms, but boy whimpered, curling in on himself. Warriors winced, but there was no more time. He would be careful, but they had to run.
***
By the time they got out, the boy had fainted. Warriors set him down and carefully pulled open his tunic, revealing what looked like a crush injury. At once, Hyrule elbowed him aside, laying his hands on the battered little body, glowing healing magic threading its way into the injury.
"Another one of us?" asked Twilight, his tone subdued. "And… so young." He knelt down as well, brushing the boy's hair back from where it clung to the blood and tears on his face. It fell into sharp bangs much like Time's. "Poor little mite."
"You thought this felt like an older version of your era, didn't you, Legend?" asked Warriors, looking up.
Legend nodded. "And… I think I might know who this is. Without us here… he'd be dead, after all."
"Definitely," said Hyrule breathlessly, raising his hands as the boy stirred with a soft moan.
"Easy," said Twilight softly, stroking his hair again. "You're safe with us. Just rest."
"Who is he?" asked Time behind Warriors. There was an odd note in his voice that made him look round.
"Well… we just remember him as the Fallen Hero," said Legend quietly. "My predecessor."
"Navi?" the boy called softly. "Where is she?"
Warriors, meanwhile, was looking at Time, who was staring down at their newest member, both eyes wide open.
"I know who he is," he said, his voice shaking. "I just don't know how."
The boy met his gaze steadily.
"If I've made time branch again…" whispered Time. "I think… this time I'm happy with it." He crouched down and held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Link. We'll…" His voice caught. "Let's see if we can find Navi."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Red vs. Blue
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Felix | Isaac Gates/Agent Washington
Characters: Felix | Isaac Gates, Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue)
Additional Tags: febuwhump2026, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Manhandling, Drugged Sex, Power Imbalance, Collars, Frottage, Rutting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Series: Part 7 of febuwhump 2026, Part 23 of bad things happen bingo
Summary:
Wash’s head is bowed, shoulders hunched, swaying slightly in place from the frankly absurd number of drugs running through his veins—it took a lot to push Wash to this point, but now that he’s here Felix is going to enjoy every moment of it.
Felix captures Wash and tortures him until he’s broken to the point of compliance, and Felix decides to have some fun.
Rhian persuades Morgan to join the rest of the team downstairs.
762 words
CWs: self dehumanisation
"It is really acceptable for this weapon to go downstairs with you?" asks Morgan, worrying at Archimedes' rough fabric.
"Yeah. We want to spend time with you. Especially me. But I'm not forcing you to if you don't want to come."
"I do, Rhian. I, it was just making sure."
"Okay. Come on then. You want to hold my hand?"
Morgan swallows and slips its hand into Rhian's, accompanying her downstairs. The talk in the room dies away abruptly as they enter.
The room looks… comfortable, Morgan supposes, with mismatched saggy old seats arranged around a coffee table, TV in the corner. Net curtains are drawn, giving them privacy, but it's still nice and light.
Asha grins and waves from the sofa. Morgan waves back shyly.
"Hey there you two," says Asim with a small smile. "Good to see you again, Morgan. Blue's microwaving popcorn. Sit wherever you like."
Rhian sits on the armchair, but Morgan hesitates. It doesn't know where it should go. All this comfort is meant for people, not weapons, but it's clearly being allowed it so… what should it do?
Rhian pats their lap. "Come on, sweetheart, you can sit with me if you like."
Morgan wants to, but it hesitates. It's been here several weeks now, but it's still almost unbelievable that anyone would be willing to allow it so close. Does its handler… no, its friend, that's what she says, its friend, and that doesn't make sense, weapons don't have friends, that's only for people… but Rhian's its friend, she wants to be its friend. It's never had a friend before. Is she really willing to let it so close? To let it touch her so much, in front of other people?
She beckons it closer. "It's okay, sweetheart, you're okay. Come on over, if you like, that's it."
Morgan nods and climbs hesitantly onto Rhian's lap. When there's no objection, it curls up against her chest, watching the rest of the room carefully. Asha just smiles, and Asim gives it an approving nod.
It swallows. It hasn't got Blue's reaction yet.
Rhian rubs its arm, speaking softly. She always speaks so softly to it, like it's something worth caring about. It makes it feel warm. "Hey, it's okay. That's it, sweetheart, you're good."
"We're going to watch The Sword in the Stone, if you're okay with that?" says Asim. Morgan nods. It doesn't know what that is exactly, but it nudges its brain with warm familiarity and anyway, weapons don't make decisions. Especially not for people. "Great. I'll go ahead and set it up."
Just then, Blue enters and Morgan tenses. It still remembers what they said to Rhian, in the conversation it wasn't supposed to hear. What if they think it's too dangerous for it to be here? Rhian squeezes its shoulder.
"Er. Hello, Rhian, Morgan. Popcorn! Rhian, I made you and Morgan sweet popcorn to share, and the rest of us have mixed."
Morgan takes the bowl, and Rhian shifts so she's able to reach the food. "Cheers. How'd you guess the seating arrangements?"
Blue shrugs, handing the bigger bowl over to Asim and sinking down onto the end of the sofa. "You always take the armchair so you don't feel boxed in, and Morgan wasn't going to sit with anyone else."
That's not entirely accurate, the weapon would have been willing to sit with Asha, but it doesn't correct Blue. "Thank you."
Blue smiles tightly. "You're welcome."
Rhian squeezes Morgan as the opening credits play out on screen.
"It's nice to have you down here with us."
Morgan snuggles into Rhian. She's so warm, and she's so willing to let it close, to touch it with bare hands. To hug it. And no-one is objecting. There's no looks of disgust. The weapon knows that if any of its handlers at its old base had touched it like this, so gently, just to comfort it, they would've been severely reprimanded. The weapon wraps itself around Rhian as best it can, careful not to drop the popcorn, and she doesn't even flinch, just resting her arm on it, a comforting weight. It can hardly believe it gets to stay here, warm and comfortable, and just be. Weapons aren't permitted that, but… but it is here. It's so nice, it could almost cry. It swallows past the lump in its throat.
"This weapon is... happy it joined you," replies Morgan softly. And it is, it thinks. Weapons aren't supposed to have emotions, it's not sure what it's feeling, but it thinks this might be happiness.
Summary: Cia requires assistance from her prisoner, Link.
AO3
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Cia stormed into the bedroom and stood over Link, forcing him to crane his neck to look at her. The fury on her face was nothing new, and Link wondered what he was in for today.
“Get up,” she snapped, and uncoupled the end of the chain from the floor. She yanked it, the chain around Link’s neck making him choke like a leashed dog. He quickly stood to ease the pressure.
She dragged him out of the room and down the hall, leading him to a parlor he had never seen before.
“This is not a reward,” she told him “You haven’t earned one yet. If you behave, I might consider it.”
She removed his gag and he wasted no time asking, “What do you want from me?”
“So many things, darling,” she purred, and he flinched as she stroked his hair. Then the fleeting moment of softness was gone as fast as it had come. “But that’s for later. My other guest is acting up and I need you to talk some sense into him.”
Link’s heart plummeted. He had been captured alone. Surely she hadn’t found-
A knock came from the door on the opposite side of the room and Cia cast a concealing glamour on the chain. “Oh, and keep up appearances. Don’t want to scare him, now do we?”
Then the door opened and pair of guards pushed Mask into the room. The boy didn’t appear to be hurt or even frightened. The kid stood his ground and growled at Cia. “So you did capture Link!”
“No no no, you misunderstand, child,” she tutted. “Link is my guest. I treat him just as well as I treat you. Don’t I, dearest?”
Her nails dug into Link’s shoulder and she hissed too quietly for Mask to hear. “Watch your tongue or I won’t hesitate to make him scream.”
Mask watched, wary and confused, as Link attempted a smile.
“Everything’s fine,” Link lied. Cia nudged him and he scrambled for more words. “Um. Please be good, sprite. Do what they tell you. If you were calling for me, I can’t hear you anyway.”
“Thank you, Link. You better listen to your brother so you don’t get in trouble. Run along now,” Cia sang, making shooing motions at Mask.
The kid’s face twisted into a scowl. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Cia’s grip on Link’s shoulder grew tighter.
“Mask, listen to me,” Link said, his tone as calm and gentle as he could manage. “I need you to be on your best behavior while we’re here. That’s all you have to do, and everything will be okay. Can you do that for me?”
Mask pouted, but he must have seen the pleading in Link’s eyes. “Fine.”
The boy let the guards take him from the room without complaint, and Link shuddered as soon as he was gone.
“Not bad,” Cia mused. “Maybe my choice to keep the child around was a good idea after all.”
“You better not hurt him,” Link said, his voice shaking with restrained rage.
“Yes, yes, he’ll be fine as long as he keeps quiet,” Cia assured him. “You, on the other hand…” A cruel smile touched her lips and she tugged the chain to remind Link that it was there. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she whispered, her voice featherlight as her touch was anything but.
Link shuddered, his only solace in the fact that Mask would be spared from the pain he was about to experience.
Summary: After Ashton is wounded protecting Orym from an explosion, Orym looks after him until help arrives.
“Hang on, we're almost there,” Orym panted. Ashton leaned heavily against him, though he was way too short to provide much meaningful support. “Just a little further, okay?”
Ashton was barely on his feet, bleeding from dozens of puncture wounds from the explosion that had taken out the tavern where they'd been asking questions. Orym had no idea where any of their friends were, if any of them were more injured than Ashton...if the rest of them were alive.
“Fuck.” Ashton hit the ground hard, dropping to both knees and one hand. The other was still claspsed to Orym's shoulder, for all the good that was doing. “Fuck, man, you gotta leave me.”
“No way.” Orym wrapped Ashton's arm around his shoulders and tried to haul the genasi back to his feet. “Not when you're hurt like this.”
“That's exactly why you should go,” Ashton rasped, though he let Orym tug him forward until he could lumber back up to his feet. His side was a mess of torn skin and blood—or what passed for blood in his body. Bits of glass littered his stony flesh, and Orym was sure he could see slivers of metal in the wounds, too.
“Not leaving you behind,” he said. He wrapped his arm around Ashton's waist, letting the genasi lean as much weight on him as he could bear. “There's an alley...up ahead.”
Ashton didn't answer, his labored breathing sounding far too loud in the chaos after the explosion. The tavern was little more than a heap of burning rubble now, and they could already hear the clamor as someone started up a bucket chain to try to contain the blaze.
“Here...just sit down,” Orym lowered Ashton to the ground just inside the mouth of the alley. There wasn't much to hide them there, but he hoped they'd be overlooked in the general pandemonium after the attack. If nothing else, he could honestly say they were caught in the blast and he was trying to help his friend.
With a groan, Ashton collapsed all the way down and curled up on his uninjured side. “Think I've got some new piercings.” He managed to turn his head enough to look up at Orym. “You okay?”
“Me?” Orym knelt beside him, hands on his legs, staring at Ashton's wounds. “Ears are ringing a bit, but you knocked me out of the way pretty fast. Don't think I've got a scratch on me.”
Ashton grunted. “Good.” He settled back down and wrapped one arm over his eyes. “Fuck, this hurts.”
“I think it all has to come out, but I don't know if we should do that without Fresh Cut Grass here. Unless you have a healing potion?”
He groaned again. “We were stocking up after questions, remember? 'Questions are safe. No one gets hurt from asking questions.' Why do I ever listen to you people?”
“Because you like us,” Orym replied. He gingerly brushed at the debris on Ashton's coat, pulling his hand away when the other man hissed in pain. “Sorry.”
“How bad is it?”
Orym risked a peek under Ashton's coat. The heavy leather had protected him from the worst of the blast, though there had been plenty of shrapnel in the explosion. It had been a rigged barrel packed with loose bits of metal and glass to maximize casualties—if Ashton hadn't reacted as quickly as he had there was a good chance Orym would have been face-to-face with the explosion.
“I won't say I've seen worse, because I don't have a lot of experience with explosions,” Orym finally said, carefully lowering Ashton's coat to avoid aggravating his wounds. “But I don't think it's anything we can't heal.”
“S'good,” Ashton murmured.
“No, c'mon man, stay awake,” Orym patted Ashton's cheek, careful to avoid the bruises that were blooming up on the side of his face. “Hey, I never thanked you for saving me back there.”
“S'cuz you're so little.” Ashton grinned up at him, blood staining his teeth. “You keep...keep taking hits. F'r all of us. Someone needs to take one for you...once in a while.”
“Shit.” Orym ran his hands through his hair. This wasn't good. He wanted to start pulling the shrapnel out, but without someone to heal the wounds it could just make Ashton bleed to death faster. “I'll be right back. I promise.”
He patted Ashton on the chest, though it seemed like the earth genasi was too far out of it to notice, and bolted for the mouth of the alley. Someone...anyone. One of the guard might have a healer, or a potion to spare...he had some gold, he could pay for it...anything to—
Orym ran right into someone, nearly bowling them over. He started to apologize when strong, familiar hands grabbed his shoulders. “Orym!”
“Fearne.” He could have sagged in relief. “Are you all right? Where are the others?”
“We're looking for you,” the faun replied. “Are you bleeding?”
“Don't think so, but Ashton's in trouble.” Orym grabbed her hand and started tugging her toward the alley. “Can you do the...can you heal someone today?”
“I think so,” Fearne held back, and he wasn't quite strong enough to pull her along so his feet just slid against the pavement. “Hang on, let me signal the others.”
She leaned a little further into the road and waved her free arm, and Orym caught sight of Imogen returning the wave.
“There!” Fearne smiled at him happily. “Imogen says she'll bring everyone here.”
“Great. Just come on,” he said, pulling at her again. Fearne let him this time, and he led her over to where he'd left Ashton. “I don't know if it's safe to get the glass and stuff out, and he was pretty hurt in the explosion.”
“Well, I can do a little,” Fearne commented as she folded down to sit on her knees. “We should probably move off the street to do the rest.”
“Right,” Orym nodded. He sat near Ashton's head, grabbing the other man's hand as Fearne gently prodded at his wounds.
Ashton's eye slid open and he stared at Orym. “You came back.”
“Told you.” Orym patted his hand. “We're not abandoning you. Not ever.”
He grunted and shifted around just enough so that his forehead was resting against Orym's knee. “That's good...you're good...family's good.”
Note: I really hope you enjoy this piece. It was one of the most emotionally taxing, cathartic, and fulfilling pieces I’ve written in a long time. I hope that comes across when you read it.
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Shawn?
Where’s the doctor? I need to speak to him. Busy, my ass! My son is in a coma. I get that you’re just doing your job. Just… find me someone who can give me an update. … Please.
Hey, bud. I, uh –
Shit.
Shawn, for the love of – what the hell did you think you were doing? Going off on your own like that, not telling anyone where you were going or what you were doing. You knew these people were dangerous, and you still… I know I taught you better than this.
Why, why do you never listen?
***
Hey, Shawn. Don’t think that just because you’re in a coma right now that we’re going to let this go. You’ve pulled some stupid-ass stunts in your time, but this … this takes the cake. And you know you’re supposed to share any cake you get with me. Fifty-fifty split.
We’re partners, Shawn. Why did you go in alone?
Well, all I have to say is that you better wake up soon. The doctors say they are cautiously optimistic that you’ll have a full recovery if you will just wake up. We’re all well aware that you are the laziest time-waster in Santa Barbara, but just this once, will you prove us wrong?
…
Please, Shawn. You’re my best friend. I … I can’t lose you. Just. Just come back, okay?
***
The doctors said that you might be able to hear what we say to you. In my experience, doctors always say that, but, I don’t know. It seems a little weird, don’t you think? I mean, the thought of you lying there, so still that you might be … you know. Anyway. To think that you could actually be hearing everything I’m saying right now is…
It’s actually a little bit embarrassing. Gosh, why do I always ramble like a moron when I’m nervous? This is worse than the movie theater, the first time I asked you out. Remember that? Now that was humiliating.
I know your dad and Gus have probably already given you enough lectures to fill up a novel, so I won’t yell at you for being an impulsive, stupid idiot. Not yet.
For now, Shawn – his hand is really cold; is that normal? Should I call the doctor? No? – just know that I love you, with all my heart.
And that if you don’t wake up soon, I’ll kill you myself.
***
Mr. Spencer.
Shawn.
I… I apologize for not coming to see you sooner. It’s no excuse, but we’ve been really busy. God knows how you did it, but you somehow managed to still get us the evidence we needed to take these guys down, even on death’s door. These monsters have been tormenting a lot of very good people for far too long, and until you… did what you did, our hands were tied.
I suppose what I am saying is thank you.
It was incredibly stupid, and I – we all – wish you had never done it, but… thank you.
Wake up soon. That’s an order.
Oh, hi, Henry – I was just stopping by for a moment. How are you holding up? Yes, I –
***
Hey, Goose.
I would have been here sooner, but I was stuck in New York. I was in for a conference, and my flight got delayed because of snow, but… but you don’t really want to hear about that, do you?
You look good, considering. From the way your father talked, I thought you’d be wasting away. But your color is good. You don’t have that gray pallor I’ve seen so often in those who have given up.
That means you’re still fighting. And that’s good.
If you’re wondering where your dad is, don’t worry. Juliet and Gus dragged him to the cafeteria for some actual food – or as close as you can get to real food in a hospital. Your father… That man, Shawn, I just don’t think you know how much he cares about you. Not that it’s your fault. Henry has never been good at showing how he feels.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I married him, so long ago. Maybe I thought I could fix him. But you can’t really fix people, can you, Goose? Not the way you’d like to.
The doctors are doing everything they can to fix you, Shawn. So don’t give up.
Oh, here comes your father –
He’s fine, Henry – did you eat something? Gus, did he actually eat something? What did he eat? Henry Spencer, coffee is not food! Good grief, I’ll be right back...
***
Oh, Guster! I… I didn’t know you would be here. I’ll just… I was in the wrong room, that’s all. Yeah, I was just visiting an old friend of the family. Who? None of your business, actually. Just a friend, who is not Spencer.
What do you mean, I should stay since I’m already here? Guster, I have important things to do, cases to solve, people to see! Well, I suppose… Just for a minute, do you understand me? This is ridiculous… Spencer butts his nose into my case, breaks the whole thing open, and damn near dies in the process…
Guster – where the hell are you going? You can’t leave me alone with Spencer! … What do you mean, talk to him? Are you insane? I don’t want to talk to him when he’s awake, why would I –?
You don’t have to shout. I’ll stay while you step out.
But I won’t talk to him.
…
…
Well, Spencer, this is a fine mess you’ve put yourself in.
I mean sweet justice, man, do you ever think about what you’re doing? About how it will affect other people? The people who love you?
Not me, of course. You know I could care less about you. But my partner, your girlfriend, for some unfathomable reason, has chosen to be with you. To like you for – man, this is hard to say – to like you for who you are. I mean, have you met you? That’s something that should never have happened, especially not after all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled over the years.
But it did. She… Juliet, she cares about you. A lot. If you could see just how much she’s hurting right now…
Spencer, I once told you that if you hurt my partner, I’d kill you. Well, you’ve gone and done it. But I’m a fair man. Well, I can be a fair man if given the right circumstances. Okay, fine, I’m not exactly fair, but I do care about Juliet, so I will give you an ultimatum: If you go ahead and wake up, if you put a smile back on her face, then I will let you live. But you’ve got to do it soon, got it? No lollygagging like you usually do. Just…
Guster! You cannot just sneak up on a man like that! No, I wasn’t talking to Shawn, don’t be ridiculous. I’m on the phone with someone … Bluetooth.
What? NO! My eyes are not “misty.” Good lord, man, not everyone is a crybaby like you. No, I’m not staying any longer! Dammit, Guster, I don’t care –
***
Hey, Shawnie!
Look, this is a little awkward, I know, especially since I haven’t really been in touch since the whole Buchard’s treasure incident, but when your father finally got ahold of me, I rushed right over. Bygones, and all that, am I right?
Anywho… I brought you a penny. I know it’s not much, but this one’s special. It’s a 1943 bronze Lincoln. One of the rarest out there. I’ve been holding onto it for a while, but I thought you could use a little luck. Well, a little more than a little, but…
Anyway, kiddo. I hate seeing you like this. I’m getting ready to go cliff diving in Peru, but I’ll be here with you in spirit, you got that? Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.
Or do. I guess if you’re doing something stupid, then you’re not sleeping anymore.
Damn it. I’m not good at this stuff.
See ya around, kid.
***
Hey, Shawn, my man! Long time, no see, huh? Do you mind if I eat something while we chat? Want a bite? It’s your favorite…
No? Well, more for me, I suppose.
Hmmmm… your color looks less gray than last week. Maybe the doctors are right, maybe you really are recovering, but… I don’t know. Gah, I really wish they’d let me take a crack at you – ah, I mean, examine you, just in case, but… Apparently “someone who spends all day with the dead isn’t the right person to diagnose a living person, blah blah blah.” Between you and me, friend, I think they’re hiding something from us. It’s a conspiracy. … Not like the Chief Vick is actually a time traveler conspiracy, mind you. A real one.
Ah, whatever. Whatever happens will happen, am I right, Shawn? I have to say, you’re excellent company today! I do miss your witty retorts, but you’ve got that comforting presence I’ve come to expect from my friends in the morgue. They only get chatty when I haven’t slept for four days straight.
Huh, you normally would’ve laughed at that.
Anyway, keep on keeping on! Whatever happens, whatever direction this thing ends up going, just know I’ve got your back. And if you don’t make it in this world, well… let’s just say I picked out the perfect body bag to carry you into the next. Spoiler alert: I embroidered this one myself!
Oh, and don’t forget! I’ve called dibs on your autopsy, should it come to that! Gosh, I can’t stop wondering if your heart really is going to be two sizes bigger than most. I know it’s scientifically improbable, but you just love so damn much…
Ah! Oh, Henry, you scared me! I was just – no, I don’t have the body bag. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to – well, you know. Little joke of the trade, hehe. You’re not laughing – Shawn would have.
Okay, okay, I’m getting out, I’m leaving! But if anything happens, you know that I – OW! Okay, okay, yeah, got it. Geez Louise, you’ve got a tight grip. Did you arm wrestle in high school?
***
Hey, Shawn. How’s it going?
I mean, you’re in a coma, so I imagine it’s not great, but… I dunno, maybe it is. Maybe it’s nice, wherever you’re at.
Say, I wonder if you’re in the place your psychic visions come from. When you wake up, do you think you’ll be even more psychic than before? That would be so cool…
Oh, Franny and Mrs. Pickles say hi. She wanted to bake you a pie – Franny, of course, not Mrs. Pickles, he’s a cat – but I told her you were on a feeding tube, so she made me a pie instead. It was blueberry. One of the best pies I’ve ever tasted. She told me to tell you that if, I mean when, you wake up, she’ll make you a pineapple upside down cake. A whole one, just for you.
You’ve just got to wake up first, Shawn.
I … I really hope you wake up soon. I miss seeing you around the station. Heh, I even think Lassiter’s missing you. He doesn’t say it so many words – or any words at all, for that matter – but he’s different. Angrier, and I wasn’t even sure that was possible! And he keeps glancing over at the front doors, like he’s expecting you to come waltzing in at any moment.
Or, I dunno, maybe he ordered a pizza, but I’m betting he’s missing you, deep down.
We’re all missing you. Get better soon, okay, buddy?
***
Well, kid. It’s been five weeks. You’ve always been a slowpoke in the mornings, but this is getting ridiculous.
I’m running out of things to talk about. Bet you’re not too broken up about that, huh? Never did like to listen to what your old man had to say. Still… you listened when it mattered. Sometimes.
I’m thinking about retiring again. Karen’s trying to convince me to stay. She says that she’s always got a place for me, that they may be bringing in a couple of temporary consultants in the next few weeks, to help lighten the caseload. There’s a criminal profiler, a young woman who really knows her stuff, but Karen’s been holding off on hiring her. Honestly, the girl’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t hold a candle to what you do.
Then again, she’s not an attention-seeking moron who runs head-first into danger without thinking of the consequences, but… she’s still not you.
Anyway, I told Karen I’d think about it, but I don’t know. I’m getting old, kid. I thought I wasn’t, I still felt pretty young, but recently… I don’t know. The world just has a little less color in it than I remembered, and that’s what growing old looks like, isn’t it?
If I retired, would you wake up? If you didn’t have me “hovering” over you all day at work, would you finally come back? I mean, I accepted the job in the first place to keep you safe, and that went to hell in a handbag. Maybe I’m not so good at that job, after all.
Anyway, kid, you need to get off your lazy ass and wake up.
Believe it or not, I’m really starting to miss hearing your voice.
I love ya, kid. And I want you back.
***
Shawn, you will not believe what came in the mail today!
Seriously, guess.
Come on…
Dang it. I really hoped that would get you curious enough to open your eyes.
Anyway… something really did come in the mail. Well, sort of. I found it on your desk in the Psych office when I came in to check on things. I’ve been advised that it might be a good idea to stop paying rent for an office I’m not using, but that feels like letting you go, like I’m giving up on you, and I’m not ready to do that. So I’m going to keep paying that bill, okay?
But as I was saying, this envelope was just sitting on your desk! Just your name on it, too. At first I thought you were finally getting your Hogwarts letter, because it’s in a really fancy envelope. It wasn’t, by the way. Damn, I’m really rambling today. Sorry. I’m just … tired. But I wanted to read you this letter before I head out to see a few more clients. Here we go:
Dear Shawn,
It has come to my attention that you have been gravely injured and are in a coma in Santa Barbara Hospital. My contact has informed me that you’ve been in this state for nearly two months now. I am devastated to hear about this, and hope that by the time this letter finds you, you have awoken and are back to your normal self. If not, then I can only hope that your friend Mr. Guster will be kind enough to read you this letter.
I regret that I was unable to visit you myself, but as I am currently wanted in no less than four countries, I thought it best to stay away from any place that is crawling with police officers. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but between your lovely lady friend and her grumpy assistant, along with all of your other friends at the SBPD, you have an officer of the peace in your hospital room nearly around the clock. And I know what you’re thinking – I made my name sneaking in and out of impenetrable places. You would be right. Perhaps I cannot face seeing you in such a terrible way with my own eyes.
You must recover soon! I stole a lovely Van Gogh in your honor, but there was no way I could have mailed it to you without its being confiscated by the authorities. I do think of you every time I see it upon my mantle.
Sincerely,
Pierre Despereaux, Gentleman & Art Thief
Did you hear that, Shawn? Your iffy role model Despereaux is even worried about you. I know that you would – for some reason – do anything to make that man proud. So what do you say? You ready to wake up yet?
…
Dammit, Shawn. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
***
Hey, there, Goose.
I know it’s been a while since I’ve visited, but I’m actually on a conference tour right now, and your father is keeping me up to date on all developments. You look nice today – your father just gave you a shave, and though it’s not the most even of cuts, it makes you look more like yourself.
So, your father called me yesterday in near hysterics. He said that you had shown the first signs of waking – when your nurse took your blood, you pulled away. For the first time since all this started, you reacted to something in your surroundings. Of course, I flew right in.
You haven’t responded to anything since, though. Shawn, I –
You know I love you, right? I realize that I’ve never been the best at this sort of thing – at being a mother. I know I didn’t always make the right decisions. Even now, I…
I miss you, son. If you can hear me at all – and I know that you can – please, please, just… whatever is trapping you in your own mind, whether it is fear or trauma or pain or … please, just. Come back to us. I –
Oh, Henry, when did you get back? No, you don’t have to leave, I – No, no, I’m fine, I told you I’m fine, I –
– It’s all right, Maddie. I’ve got you. You don’t always have to be strong, you know. –
***
Okay, Shawn, I know I normally try to keep things light and positive, but I don’t think I have it in me to do that today. I’m sorry, I just…
Today sucked, you know? Like, really sucked. Well, if I’m being honest, the past seven months have sucked. But today was extra special.
I won’t burden you with all of the details, but work was difficult today. Lassiter and I got assigned a tough case, and, well, it didn’t end up the way we’d hoped. Long story short, we uncovered a dirty cop. It was, um… do you remember Lawson? He worked in narcotics. Turns out he’s done some things … hurt some people. He wasn’t always accountable out in the field, and some things came to light. Anyway. It’s a mess.
And then there’s this whole thing with you. I just … every time it looks like you’re making improvements, you just … you just retreat back into yourself, and I feel like I’m losing you more every day. I promised you when this all started, on day one, that I would wait for you, that I would be patient, and I’m trying, but…
It’s not that I want to leave you or anything. Not at all. My patience is just wearing thin, and I can’t sleep and night and every day I wake up terrified to look at my phone, because what if I have a message that you’ve woken up, but that you don’t remember me at all? Or worse, what if I get a message that you’ll never wake up again?
Our bed feels empty. I sleep with Mr. Snuggles every night, though – do you remember Mr. Snuggles, you know, the bear you won me at the fair when we started dating? He’s soft, but he’s wearing a bit thin. I guess holding a stuffed animal like it’s a lifeline every night for over half a year will do that, but I’m afraid he’s going to break soon.
I think…
I think I’m already broken, Shawn, and I can’t –
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… I just miss you.
Did you know that I kiss you every night before I leave? Nothing fancy, just a single, light kiss on the lips. Sometimes I pretend that you’re the damsel in distress and I’m Prince Charming, and I almost manage to convince myself that when I pull back, your eyes will be fluttering open to look at me, like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. But every time, you stay asleep.
Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. Can you do it for me, baby? Please?
…
Well, it was worth a try. I miss the way you used to kiss me back. I’ll try again tomorrow.
I’ll never stop trying.
I love you, Shawn.
***
I just don’t get it, Mr. Spencer. The doctors say he’s recovered from his injuries almost perfectly. Even the head injury, on the surface, has healed. Why isn’t he waking up? It’s been eleven months!
If I knew, Gus, I’d be the first to tell you, but I have no idea what’s going on inside that thick head of his.
I’m sorry. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, too. I shouldn’t be –
Gus. Just like I told Jules, we have to be here for each other. That’s all we can do. That, and be here for Shawn when he wakes up.
If he wakes up.
Don’t say that, Gus. You know Shawn. He’s the most stubborn person either of us knows. He’ll wake up. He’ll make it through this.
How long are we going to keep telling ourselves that? He’s been comatose for almost a year, Mr. Spencer. Every time he shows signs of coming back, he just… doesn’t. How long do we keep waiting? Two years? Five? How long until we’ve reached the point of no return? Will we even know it when we see it?
Gus, the point of no return doesn’t happen until he stops breathing, and that’s not going to happen, okay? We stick by Shawn until our prayers are answered or are no longer necessary. Got it?
You’re right, I’m so sorry. Of course I’d never give up on Shawn, I’m just so tired –
Shhhh!
I am pouring my heart out here! I let you cry on my shoulder yesterday, and you won’t even let me –
First off, I wasn’t crying, and even if it was, I wouldn’t be doing it on your shoulder. Secondly, I could have sworn I saw – yes! He’s moving! Do you see his hand, Gus? Gus!
I … I dunno Mr. Spencer. Could be another false alarm.
Maybe, but… this feels different. Shawn? Shawn? Can you hear me, bud? Can you open your eyes?
He’s stopped moving. His heart rate’s normalizing. I think –
“D-dad?”
Oh my – thank GOD, Gus, get a doctor, get a nurse – call Jules – Shawn, Shawn, can you hear me?
“Dad?”
I’m here, Shawn, I’m here. Open your eyes for me – there you go. Gus has gone to get the nurse. He’ll be back with someone in a second.
“Jules?”
She’ll be here, she’s just outside. Thank God you’re awake, I –
“I h-heard, Dad.”
What?
“I heard. Everything.”
You did, huh?
“Yeah… do you a-always sound like a dying lawn mower when you cry?”
Dammit, Shawn, can’t you let me enjoy having you back for one second before you ruin it?
“L-love you, too, Dad.”
…
Welcome back, son. It’s good to see you smile again.
