Disclaimer: I don’t own Psych. I never have, and alas, I never will.

A/N: Thank you Olivia94 for your wonderful help. I’d be lost without you, wandering around in the land of bad punctuation lol!

Chapter 6: Awkward, can anyone say awkward?

Almost three days had gone by and Shawn had drifted in and out of consciousness on only a few occasions. When he opened his bleary eyes briefly, he never said anything before once again closing them, much to his fathers and Gus’s chagrin.

Henry was returning from his morning coffee run. The dark steaming liquid seemed to be the only thing fueling his body and keeping him going for the time being. The cot they had brought him to sleep on definitely wasn’t letting him get any rest, as his back seemed to protest to its lack of support every time he attempted to lay down and catch a few winks. Slipping through the door to his son’s room, he approached the bed quietly. He set his cup down and gripped his son’s hand, which he had made a habit of doing hours before. What he hadn’t expected, was to feel the previously still fingers twitching ever so slightly before loosely encircling his own.

“Shawn!” he breathed expectantly, carefully leaning forward.

In answer, his son’s head turned slightly towards him. Almost hesitantly, two weary green orbs peeked out from behind tired lids before scrunching back together in an attempt to block out the searing light that had invaded them.

Sensing his distress, Henry released his hold only long enough to slip over to the switch and flick the light off. Now, only the soft morning glow emitting from behind the closed window blinds was left to illuminate the room. When the elder Spencer turned around, Shawn was once again looking blearily at him. He received a brief, grateful smile before it disappeared and his son closed his eyes.

Quickly, Henry was at the bedside gently touching his shoulder. “Shawn?” He whispered, hoping not to be disappointed again.

Once more heavy lids lifted, and Shawn opened his chapped lips to respond.

“D-D--Dad.” It was hoarse and raspy, almost painful, but it was music to his ears.

“Hey kid.”

“Wat--er?” Henry nodded and retrieved the full pitcher off the tray-table and poured a little of the liquid into the small plastic cup beside it.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Shawn lifted his head slightly in an attempt to meet the glass faster. He sipped slowly and felt relieved as it slid down, washing away what felt like cotton and sandpaper lining his throat. “T--thanks.” he whispered gratefully.

“Sure thing. How are you feeling?”

A soft chuckle past Shawn’s lips and he leaned further into his pillow. “Somewhere between a drowned rat and being hit by a freight train.”

Henry cringed visibly. “Yeah, well, that sounds accurate. Do you need any more pain meds?”

“I’m OK for now.”

When their eyes met again, Shawn could feel a barrage of emotions pouring out of the dark depths his father’s eyes, but none of which were the anger he was expecting. It was uncomfortable and awkward, so he broke eye contact and proceeded to look at the sling that was immobilizing his father’s arm. “Why?” he asked softly and Henry didn’t have to ask what he meant by the inquiry.

“Tore some muscles in my shoulder. It’s nothing.”

Shawn knew exactly what the injury had been caused by without explanation, and the guilt reflected in his green irises told his father that he indeed understood.

“The rope...it was cutting me in half. I felt it break. I knew at that moment I was dead.”

“It didn’t break. The damn firemen cut it.” Henry ground out bitterly.

“Oh.”

“I told them not to…begged even.” Shawn flinched at the omission.

“How did you get me out?”

“I followed along the bank, and saw you clinging to a boulder…” Henry paused and took a shaky breath. “Crawled out on a felled tree and, when you were swept back into the water, I grabbed you.”

“I don’t remember that part.”

“That’s because you weren’t breathin’ kid.”

“That would explain a lot.” Shawn whispered, a look of diluted shock crossed his face at the revelation. Risking a glance at his father’s stormy features, he could see the man was intently studying his shoes. “I’m sorry.” He spoke softly.

“Yeah, well, maybe next time you’ll look before you leap instead of throwing all caution to the wind like you always do. Then I wouldn’t have to save your sorry behind.” The words were a grumble, but they made Shawn smile. Now there was his father.

Just as he thought the awkwardness was going to dissipate, his father lifted his gaze with what looked like the beginnings of tears misting in his eyes. He was obviously trying to hold them back, but they were there all the same. ‘Oh crap!’

“I damn near lost you Shawn. It scared the hell out of me. I never felt so helpless in my entire life…never.”

This wasn’t happening. He, his father, emotions—this so couldn’t be happening. He was too tired to do this now. He opened his mouth, about to divert the direction of the present conversation, when the pleading look in his father’s eyes caused his jaw to abruptly shut. Briefly closing his eyes, he breathed in a shallow breath, careful not to disturb his aching ribs. Cautiously, he slid his hand over to grip the fingers of his father’s hand. When he felt the reciprocated squeeze, he tugged gently bringing his father closer. Resisting the urge to open his eyes in fear of chickening out, he tugged again. Then it happened. His breath caught as his father leaned over him slowly and they were locked in a gentle but odd one armed hug. Breathing out softly, it seemed as though he was no longer in control when he took in the comforting natural scent of his father. It was good. It was familiar and he unexpectedly felt his body relaxing. He would totally deny this ever happening later, but right now, this moment, it just felt…right.

Quietly, a tall, lanky figure slipped in through the door and looked at the scene before him in shock. The Spencers…hugging! For a moment he considered fleeing frantically from the room, but his surprise slowly morphed into a devious smirk and he slipped further into the space. 

Henry pulled away first, his back aching from the odd angle of their embrace. His free hand slid through the disheveled tuffs jutting out of his son’s scalp, a fond smile on his lips. Shawn just laid there, eyes closed until a low cough brought him out of his moment of rest.