3A/N Hi guys! Like many of us, I'm bored. (I love being bored - really gets the creative juices flowing) I really wanted to write something epic, but apparently that doesn't happen on demand. So I have decided to write a bunch of snippets of whump. (like Whumptober) Some will have a bit of story - others will be a shameless excuse for pure whump. My goal is to keep them all around 1000 words, but we'll see. Also, fair warning, I'm putting this note at the beginning of each one since I don't know which one you'll read first.
Thank you for reading and please review if you have a moment. -Papaya
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Fear of the unknown. (FOTU)
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Gus remembered learning in school that the Fear of the Unknown was a Fundamental Fear. It was one of the constants— a fear that virtually everyone had. It was a fear that contributed to many other fears.
From experience, he had also learned that when people didn't have all the facts they had a definite tendency to imagine the worst. For example: If he didn't call home when he'd promised, his parents always assumed he was dead in a ditch somewhere.
It was just what people did. They really shouldn't. There was no reason to make things worse than they needed to be. But people almost always did it anyway.
He'd done it himself enough times.
He was doing it now.
He was imagining the worst.
He remembered the last time he'd felt this Fear of the Unknown. From the moment he'd deciphered Shawn's cryptic text: 'Binshot not lol—' from the moment he'd realized that Shawn had been shot, he'd imagined the worst.
They had no way of knowing where he'd been shot. There was no way to know how badly he was hurt. Was he bleeding out somewhere? Was he dying?
They didn't know.
Gus had spent all his time helping Juliet follow Shawn's trail and every moment he'd imagined the worst.
It hadn't been until he'd actually seen Shawn squirming and shouting in the back of the pickup that he'd begun to relax.
The entire silliness about who was which character from The Fast and The Furious franchise was a result of complete and utter relief…
For both of them.
Because of course Shawn had been dealing with a lot of unknowns himself.
On that occasion, all of Gus's fears had turned out to be unfounded. Shawn hadn't even spent the night in the hospital. The doctor had cleaned and stitched up the entrance and exit wounds in his shoulder, and Shawn had stayed long enough to receive fluids and antibiotics. And then he'd been discharged.
Henry had, of course, insisted that Shawn stay with him for a few days. His personal fear that he'd lost his son was still too fresh, too raw to simply dismiss.
Shawn had squirmed under the scrutiny but acquiesced. He'd learned the hard way that there wasn't much point in fighting his dad once his mind was made up. And Gus knew that deep down in a place Shawn didn't examine too closely, he wanted to feel safe for a while.
The bottom line was: As terrifying as the experience had been, Shawn was fine.
This time it was different.
Shawn had been shot.
There hadn't been a need for a text. Gus had seen it happen.
Just like last time, Shawn had tried to talk the bad guy into putting down his weapon, and just like last time, it hadn't worked.
But unlike last time, this wasn't someone who was trying to turn his life around. He was a killer. And Shawn had been in his way.
They had known that Lassiter and Juliet were on their way, but they didn't know when they would arrive. Shawn was trying desperately to stall long enough. He was trying to keep the guy distracted, or at the very least, keep his attention solely on himself so no one else would be in danger.
The detectives were about ten seconds too late.
Gus had seen the moment the bad guy had had enough of Shawn's antics. Gus had watched helplessly as he'd straightened his arm and pulled the trigger. He had watched Shawn fall.
Before he could force his feet into motion, the detectives had arrived. Leaping out of the car, Lassiter had fired on the assailant and Juliet had run to where he'd fallen and held him at gunpoint while Lassiter put on the cuffs.
"Gus!" Juliet had shouted at him, "Call 911!"
Then Gus moved.
Pulling out his phone, he'd called 911 even as he dropped to his knees beside his best friend. His weak stomach was nowhere to be found as he immediately pulled off his jacket and pressed it to the bullet hole in Shawn's chest.
After that everything was a blur.
His weak stomach hadn't found him until the ambulance had pulled away and Gus had looked back at the spot on the pavement where Shawn's blood was slowly drying.
After that he'd stumbled to the Blueberry and blindly followed in the wake of the ambulance.
Now he sat in an uncomfortable chair in a bland hospital waiting room and imagined the worst.
He couldn't stop replaying the moment when Shawn's heart had stopped. He had stepped back so the EMTs could do their work and he'd seen the moment their urgent activity had suddenly become even more frantic.
He'd watched the paddles jolt Shawn's body once— twice—
It wasn't until the third time that they had relaxed a fraction. Soon after that they had loaded him into the ambulance and driven away, lights and sirens screaming.
What if his heart stopped again?
What if they couldn't get it started?
What if...?
Henry had met him at the hospital and, being family, had been allowed further into the depths of the building.
He'd promised to let Gus know the second there was anything to report, but that had been over an hour ago.
What if Shawn was dead, and Henry just couldn't come and tell him?
What if Shawn was dead?
Suddenly there was a pair of shoes on the floor in front of his gaze. He blinked and realized that someone was calling his name.
He looked up and into Henry's eyes.
Henry looked at him with a deeply sympathetic gaze.
Gus couldn't breathe. Just say it, he thought, Shawn is dead.
It seemed to Gus that Henry just stood there forever— but finally he spoke.
"Shawn's going to be okay, Gus." He said softly, "It was close. But he's going to be fine."
As far as Gus was concerned, Fear of the Unknown could suck it.
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End
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