"Shawn, what have I told you about calling me in the middle of the night?" Before Shawn can say anything, Gus answers his own question. "Just one word: Don't."
Actually, it's not really the middle of the night. It's 10:16 P.M., but Gus is already in his Thundercats pajamas, he's finished his glass of warm milk, and is in the middle of reading George Eliot's Middlemarch. Gus is sure Shawn's calling about something dumb. Last time, it was to tell him floccinaucinihilipilification, the declaration of an item being useless, is the longest non-medical term in the English language. And the time before that, it was to tell him that Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg is the longest-named lake in the world.
"And?" Gus says, head-bobbing, and hoping it translates through the phone, "I know that pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is the longest word in the English language. Spawn of and? I know how to pronounce it, as you just heard, unlike you, who had to text me floccinaucinihilipilification and Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg just so I'd know what you were trying to say--"
"Gus."
Gus immediately stops speaking. He'd expected...well, he'd expected anything but what he heard on the phone. Shawn's voice is low and deep. In fact, if Gus hadn't stopped to take a breath in the middle of his rant, he probably wouldn't have heard Shawn at all.
"What's wrong?"
Shawn just sighs on the other end, long and heavy.
"Shawn?" Gus says, unable to disguise the worry in his voice. He's sitting up, and Middlemarch is long forgotten under the covers. "C'mon. What happened?"
Shawn sighs one more time, and then he whispers, "My parents are getting divorced."
Gus feels his mouth fall open. The Spencers weren't like the Bradys or anything. Shawn had mentioned his parents were seeing a marriage counselor. But he'd thought things had been improving.
He hears chuckling on the phone, and Gus can picture the wry grin curling up the left side of Shawn's face. "I said it," Shawn says. "I never realized how saying something makes it real. Well, realer, I guess." Shawn stops talking for a few seconds. "Actually, I think my parents aren't getting a divorce."
Gus is about to say something cheerful in response, but then Shawn says, "I think they already got the divorce."
"What?" Gus finally manages to say. "Shawn--"
"Mom's gone. She left three days ago, Sunday morning, before anyone was up," Shawn says. "She left me pancakes in the fridge, and she even put the syrup in a Tupperware thing so I could warm it up."
Gus hears what is unmistakably the swishing of liquid in a beer bottle, and when he hears a popping noise, he knows Shawn's drinking. "Where are you?" There's no way Shawn's drinking at home. Underage teen, plus alcohol, plus police officer father never equals anything good.
"At school," Shawn answers. "At the phone booth at the end of the parent pick-up area."
"What're you doing there?" Gus is out of bed now, putting on socks and shoes, and hoping his mom didn't put the sweater he's thinking of wearing in the wash. No time to change out of his pajamas, unfortunately.
"Meeting...um...y'know that girl?"
"Abigail?" Gus has known Shawn's had eyes for Abigail since before Shawn ever decided to tell Gus he had eyes for Abigail.
"No," Shawn says. "Um...I think her name's Sherry. No, wait! Bianca. Cindy? No. Um...Mindy? Wait. Is Jonah a girl's name?"
"It's unisex," Gus replies. "Shawn, don't move. I'm coming to get you." He only has a learner's permit, and his parents will probably kill him for taking the car, but Gus doesn't care. "I'll be eight minutes, okay? By the way, I hope you have a coat. It's really cold outside."
"I've got a long-sleeved shirt on." There's a pause, and then the sound of a car door slamming shut. Shawn sighs again. "I'll be okay, buddy." And with that, he hangs up.
"Shawn!"
Gus opens his left desk drawer to withdraw a tiny, palm-sized booklet: his address book. He fingers through the pages until he finds the phone number he needs. He'd thought taking his parents' car without their permission was going to be bad, but what he's about to do is going to be even worse. But Shawn had left him with no choice.
He dials the number, and the phone only rings once before someone picks up on the other end.
"Santa Barbara Police Department. How may I direct your call?"
Gus takes a deep breath. "Henry Spencer, please. Tell him it's important."
Shawn's still not sure what her name is, and the alcohol-induced buzz does nothing to help matters. He decides to stop the car when the straight road ahead starts to look wobbly.
"Here good?" Shawn asks.
The girl in the passenger seat replies by crawling over the stick shift and straddling Shawn's hips. Shawn presses his lips onto hers, and when he feels the girl's tongue forcing its way into his mouth, licking across the backs of his teeth, tickling the roof of his mouth, he can't help but grin into the kiss. He's not too drunk to realize what's about to happen. At least something good will come of tonight.
Shawn's trying to get the girl's shirt off, but when she shoves her hand down his pants, he's pretty sure he's lucky he can still breathe, and he decides taking her shirt off really isn't that important.
Pants, on the other hand? Those have got to go. But the moment his fingers curl into the waistband of the black skort she's wearing, milliseconds before he can tug it down, the car door opens, cold air rushes into the car, and the girl jumps off him as a flashlight spills light all over the darkness.
"Whoops."
The entire night is definitely going to be filed under things-he-can't-remember-due-to-the-influence-of-alcohol.
Even though the owner of the car dropped the charges, Henry considers letting his son spend a night in jail, but he changes his mind after he's had a chance to cool off.
Right now, Shawn is handcuffed to a bench at the Santa Barbara Police Department, and Henry's watching him from around the corner. Shawn grins at anyone who will look at him, manages to speak with a couple people who stop long enough, but Henry can see the way the skin around Shawn's eyes is tense, can easily spot the way Shawn's using everything he's got to control himself. Henry's not fooled for a single moment. His son is hurting.
He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, hits the first speed dial number still set on his phone, and hopes his wi--hopes Shawn's mother will pick up.
The number you have dialed is no longer--
"Dammit," Henry curses, ending the call. He slips the phone back into his pocket, and walks over to Shawn. "Son," he says.
Shawn rolls his eyes. "Dad," he says, mimicking the tone.
"You should show some respect," Henry says as he leans over to unlock the handcuffs around Shawn's wrists. "I could've let you rot in a prison cell for however long, but I've decided--"
"Go ahead," Shawn says, shrugging. "Lock me up and throw away the key!"
Several people nearby turn to watch the scene unfold.
"At least I'd be away from you," Shawn mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Henry sighs and sits down next to Shawn. "Son, I know you're upset about your mother--" leaving. Henry almost says it, but he can't. Not only does he still love Madeleine, but he doesn't want Shawn to hate her. Shawn already hates Henry; he doesn't want Shawn to hate both his parents. After recomposing himself, he starts again. "I know you're upset about your mother and me, but what's happened has happened. Just know that I love you both."
Shawn snorts and looks away.
"When Gus called me tonight to tell me where you were, I was frantic--"
Shawn's suddenly gaping. "Gus ratted me out?" He runs a hand through his long hair. "Gus? Oh, my God!"
"Don't be angry with Gus. He's a good friend. He's your best friend," Henry says, placing a hand on Shawn's shoulder.
Immediately, Shawn springs up from his seat. "Don't you touch me," he says, his voice low and menacing. He struggles to formulate what he says next, but after a moment, he's got it, and a wild smile tugs on his lips. "If you had any doubts up to now, Dad? I hate you."
Henry stares, completely speechless, as Shawn retrieves his possessions from the front desk, and then heads out the door without another word.
There are only two people in the world who can break Henry Spencer. He'd lost one of those people already because he hadn't held on tightly enough.
Henry pushes himself up from the bench, and runs after Shawn.
There is no way he's going to lose them both.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.