As far as Shawn was concerned, anyone who said that fresh snowfall was the most amazing thing in the world could go get themselves locked in an icebox.

He stumbled as his foot sank further than he was expecting and failed to maintain his balance. “Ah! Why is snow so damn cold!?”

“Cause you keep rolling around in it. Get up, Spencer.” He felt Lassiter’s hand on his bicep quickly pulling him to his feet. “Don’t you know how to walk?”

Shawn brushed himself off before quickly shoving his hands back in his pockets. “Unlike you, I wasn’t born an Eskimo.” His teeth chattered. “I’m from California.”

“I thought you spent time traveling the world or whatever?” Lassiter pulled his flashlight away from Shawn’s face, flashing it across the ground as they kept moving forward.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t freeze my ass off while I was doing it!”

Lassiter traipsed ahead, and Shawn made a special point to step directly into the detective’s footprints. “This was your idea, Spencer.”

“It wasn’t my idea for the car to break down!” He stumbled again, catching himself before he landed face first in the cold. “Besides, I thought you took care of your car.”

Lassiter tensed, and Shawn had to dodge the branch that nearly snapped back into his face. “Next time you go with Guster.”

He pushed the branch out of his way and came up alongside Lassiter. “Come on, Lassie! Gus got up at the crack of dawn to get up here. Besides, you know how much he loves shoveling snow? A lot. It’s seriously not healthy.”

“Really? I thought you overslept your alarm.” Lassiter slipped on a patch of ice covered by snow and grabbed Shawn’s shoulder for balance.

“I did not. I had a very important appointment with a barista at Starbucks. Evidently, they really do call them Baristas. But that’s not the point, the point is they only offer the eggnog latte once a year, and she promised she would give me a sampling if I met her –“

“I don’t really care to hear about your escapades, Spencer.”

“It was a very good latte.” Shawn carefully picked his way through the ice. “No escapading involved, just a latte. Seriously Lassie, what do you take me for?”

His companion didn’t respond as they continued carefully making their way along the overgrown path. “How much looooonger?”

Lassiter suddenly threw his arm across Shawn’s chest, like a driving mother restraining her child when braking hard. The force knocked Shawn’s delicate balance off and he fell backwards to land on his butt. His hands flailed for Lassiter’s arm on the way down unsuccessfully.

He grunted as the inch and a half of powdery snow gave way to solid ice underneath him. “Lassie, what the hell?!”

“Shut up, Spencer.” The detective practically growled back, his voice low. Shawn watched as Carlton’s hand went to his coat, fingers rapidly undoing the top two buttons so he could extract his pistol.

He heard the snap the same moment as Lassiter did, a breaking twig just ahead and to their right. Carlton switched off the flashlight, leaving the pair in nothing but the dim light of the crescent moon.

The twig snapper stepped into their sight, and Lassiter whipped his gun up, leveling it at the other. “Don’t move.” He snarled.

The figure froze, his hands slowly rising. Shawn could barely make out Lassiter reaching for his flashlight where he had tucked it in his belt when a noise in the tree above Lassiter drew their attention at the exact same time that their shadowed friend took a step forward.

“I said. Don’t. Move.”

A change in the wind brought the unmistakable smell of a slowly cooking ham, a ham of the likes that Shawn knew for a fact Jules had promised to bring up with her.

Shawn heard the gun’s safety switch off. He squinted in the darkness at the figure, his brain barely recognizing the 5’10” man. But the next thing he knew, something was falling from the tree above them, hitting Lassiter’s outstretched arm.

The resulting gunshot was echoed by a scream. A scream from a man who’s voice Shawn had known almost as well as his own since kindergarten.

“GUS!”

He scrambled to his knees, no longer caring about the snow and ice as he slipped his way across to the fallen man.

“Gus! No. Nonononono.” He placed his hands on his friend’s body, recoiling when the touch brought a gasp. “Give me some damn light!”

He heard Lassiter fumbling for his light, before he himself slipped in the snow. Shawn yanked his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly thumbing the button for the dim light it would provide.

“Gus, it’s okay man, it’s not that bad. It’ll be okay.” He found the source of the bleeding, a clean shot to Gus’ shoulder. Something in his brain told him he needed to stop the bleeding and before he could think clearly as to what that meant he was ripping off his beanie and pressing it down against the new hole in his best friend’s body.

Gus cried out again with the pressure and Shawn didn’t have a chance to comfort him before another voice joined the mix.

“Nobody move!” A blinding light appeared from behind the trees, shining directly into their eyes as the female voice shouted. “SBPD!”

“O’Hara?”

“Lassiter?!”

“SOMEBODY CALL A DAMN AMBULANCE!” With the addition of Juliet’s light he could see the blood. The red sprayed across the powder and the growing puddle beneath Gus’ shoulder continued leaking through the hole in his friend’s favorite jacket.

The light dropped from their eyes as Juliet stepped forward. “Lassiter, what the hell did you do?”

Shawn’s hand fumbled for the numbers on his phone, silently cursing as his blood covered thumb failed to create the friction his iPhone required for use. He threw the device down in the snow and turned back to Gus. “Ambulance. NOW!”

Juliet dropped to her knees across from him, bringing some much needed light to Gus’ wound. “Lassiter, an ambulance.”

“They won’t be able to make it up those roads, the snow-“

“Then call a damn helicopter!” His voice cracked and faded to a whimper, “You shot Gus.”

“We need to take him back to the cabin.” Juliet gently stroked the side of Gus’ face. “Gus, can you hear me…we need to get you up.”

Between the three of them they managed an awkward carry back to the cabin, Gus moaning with each slippery step in the snow. Shawn wasn’t sure how they managed to get him to a bed, all he could see with each step they took was the red dripping from his friend into snow.

He slumped against the doorframe as Juliet and Lassiter positioned Gus on the bed. The scene seeming surreal amongst the decorative pink flowers adorning the walls.

“Shawn.” He looked up from his red hands into Juliet’s eyes. “I need you to go get some warm water and a clean cloth. Can you do that?”

He must have nodded, because suddenly the view in front of him was changed. He didn’t know where anything was in this cabin, so he started pulling random cupboards open until he found a bowl and a towel.

He filled the bowl and went back to the room. Lassiter almost ran into him on his way out, Shawn held the items out. He couldn’t go in there. Lassiter took them, his face etched in confusion. The second he disappeared behind the door, Shawn took off.

He flew out the front door, not caring if he pulled it closed behind him or not. The trail of blood was there in the snow and Shawn stumbled in the opposite direction. He slipped, falling against the side of Gus’ car, but pushed off it and kept going.

He went as far as his body would take him before he fell to his hands and knees in the snow and vomited. Once his body was convinced there was nothing else in his stomach to come up, he pushed away from the mess in the snow and curled up on his side.

His best friend couldn’t die. Not now, not like this. Not at the hands of their friend.

He dragged his knees up to his chest, unable to hold back the sobs any longer.

Shawn had no idea how long he lay in the snow crying before he felt Juliet’s hand rest on his shoulder. She was kneeling in front of him, her small hand rubbing up and down his arm silently. He sniffled loudly, and rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.

“Come on, you’re going to catch a cold.”

He let her help him to his feet, and was grateful when she snaked an arm around his waist to guide him back to the cabin. He leaned against her the entire way back, right up until she lowered him to the sofa and kneeled in front of him.

“Shawn.” Her hand was there, turning his head to look into her eyes. “Gus is going to be okay. I promise.”

He nodded but was unable to find his voice.

“Do you think you can keep Gus company until the paramedics get here?” She shifted back so she was sitting on her heels. “The ice on the road is slowing them down.”

He nodded again and accepted her outstretched hand. Both their hands were stained a matching red from blood that should never have left his friend’s body.

He shuffled to the room and she let him go in without her. Lassiter was leaning against the wall by the window, but left as soon as Shawn entered. He sat on the empty bed next to Gus’, nervously rubbing his hands together as he looked at his friend.

“Hey, Gus.” He leaned forward, “You’re gonna be okay. You gotta be okay.”

Gus was still, and Shawn was thankful he couldn’t see the injury beneath the many layers of blankets. “Of course…it’s silly to assume Jules just left you bleeding, huh?” He shook his head. “She would have patched you up good.”

He swallowed; talking to Gus shouldn’t be this difficult. “This is a nice place you found up here…I mean, I know the retreat is basically over. We’ll have to call Buzz and the chief and tell them not to come anymore…unless you want them to come…we could still play twister, give you a handicap-“

“Shawn.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Gus’ voice. He switched to sitting on the edge of Gus’ bed and leaned forward. “Yeah, buddy?”

“Shut up.”

He couldn’t help it, he started laughing.

“What’s so funny.”

He waived a hand around the room, “This room looks like it was decorated by Hello Kitty.”

Gus smirked and shook his head. “This is, without a doubt, the worst Christmas ever. You better have gotten me an amazing present.”

“Really man?” Shawn helped Gus adjust the slipping quilt. “Worse than the Christmas we tried to catch a reindeer and fell off the roof and both broke an arm?”

‘Yup.”

“Worse than the Christmas we discovered Santa Claus didn’t exist?”

Gus shifted, attempting to scoot up to a sitting position. “Yeah, that one too.”

“Worse than the year I inadvertently got both your parents arrested?”

“You also got them off the hook.”

“Couldn’t have done it without the super smeller.”

“You know that’s right.”

Shawn started giggling in earnest this time. “What about the year you bet me twenty bucks Santa couldn’t fit in the chimney…” He lost himself in laughter, unable to finish the sentence.

“And you tried to prove me wrong and got stuck!” Gus was shaking with laughter now too, one hand clutched to his sore shoulder.

Juliet appeared in the doorway, two bowls of soup in her hands. “What are you two laughing about?”

“Oh nothing, Jules.” Shawn managed between breaths. “Just how bad this Christmas is compared to some of the others.”

He could see Gus trying to speak through his laughing, and turned back to him as Juliet set the bowls down on the bedside table. “What about…the year, we built…a life size, gingerbread house-“

“In my dad’s living room!” They started howling in laughter, which was only fueled by Juliet’s shocked face.

“You didn’t? How do you even-?”

“It was a mess.” Shawn managed. “Dad grounded me for like a month.”

“He was still finding unbaked gingerbread in the living room for the next year and a half.”

Juliet smiled, “You know, my brother once scared our cat right before dinner, and the poor thing ran straight through the entire Christmas meal my aunt had spent two days preparing.”

Gus and Shawn just continued laughing, Juliet herself breaking out into a stifled giggle.

Lassiter pushed open the half ajar door, “What is going on in here?”

Shawn was too far gone in his amusement to even attempt to explain. One look at Gus told him his friend was the same boat.

“Christmas, Lassiter.” Juliet started from her place on the opposite bed. “One year I was so upset with Santa not bringing me the right items that I took a 600 page catalogue from JC Penny with me to show him all the toys I wanted specifically.”

The three of them fell back into a fit of laughter, Carlton standing in the doorway shaking his head at them.

“Oh come on, Carlton! You’ve got to have at least one story.”

Lassiter stepped into the room fully, “Well…I took a hammer to a couple of snow globes once on Christmas Eve…ended up getting twelve stitches.”

“What? Why?” Shawn gasped out.

“I was trying to visit the people who lived in the house…my mom told me the snow was acid so I’d stop ruining her decorations.” He pulled on the knot of his tie as the group howled with laughter. “I was six!”

Shawn, Gus and Juliet continued roaring and despite his facial struggle not to laugh, Lassiter eventually joined in. Their laughter built, harmonizing as they were joined by the metronome of an approaching siren.