Story Notes:
Standard disclaimers apply, yada yada yada.
I decided I needed to do another one of these because they’re super fun. And also because I’m kind of stuck on all my stories I’m currently trying to write, and I can’t get one to a point of even posting a first chapter. *grumbles* Maybe this’ll help jar my muse into working again.
Okay, so this was written in response to the “What If” challenge on the forums. The rules were to take any episode from the series and change one thing about it as a springboard for a fic, with no limits on genre/length/etc.
I was trying to decide what to do, and unfortunately, I only owned two Psych episodes, the pilot and the finale. I’m not a bad fan, I promise; I just relied on Netflix up until I realized at the time of writing this fic that they had removed Psych from their lineup. I actually rewatched the finale with the express purpose of finding a way to change it, but nothing really jumped out at me. Maybe because I think it’s such a perfect episode. I dunno.
So then I scrolled through the list of episodes on Google Play to see which one I wanted to use. I saw “Six Feet Under the Sea” and knew that was it! Partly because I remembered the part with the baddies holding Shawn and Gus at gunpoint, partly because it’s one of my favorite episodes for some reason (maybe possibly because Zed and I wrote a casefic that revolved around an aquarium), and partly because the idea to spoof the title popped into my head as soon as I saw the episode listing. And that was that.
Then I actually had to write the story, which was the hardest part. Haha First, I needed to introduce what was happening in the scene…
It had come as a surprise that the boat was being towed by a car and not motoring out to sea. So much of a surprise, in fact, that Shawn and Gus had temporarily forgotten about the smugglers who were undoubtedly still nearby. Of course, they quickly remembered when the men reappeared, but by then it was too little too late.
The shorter of the two men seemed to be the one in charge, judging from the way he’d done most of the talking every time Shawn and Gus had encountered this dastardly duo -- which really was just the once out on the water, and now here, but that was every time even if it was only twice. And now, he was the one drawing the gun and pointing it right at Shawn.
Narrating the action of an episode is actually a really interesting exercise. You have to pay attention to exactly what’s going on, but it’s not as simple as just typing, “Shawn walks into room. Bad guy points gun at Shawn.” It’s creating a story that is entirely what is happening on the screen, and then it’s trying to interpret facial expressions and movements. When you write, your goal is to put the mental image of the action in someone’s mind, and that’s no less the case with a story like this.
So I opened a text document on one side of my monitor and had the episode playing on the other, and I just typed a bunch of shorthand of what was happening. Had to rewind a few times for exact dialogue, but it worked pretty well, I think.
Shawn glared as the weapon waved in Gus’s direction. He had to do something to get the attention back on himself, and so, naturally, he said the first thing that popped into his mind. “All right, guys, I'm just gonna be honest because that's usually the best policy, right?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “I'm a psychic.”
I don’t know if that’s what the writers intended Shawn to be thinking here, but it’s what stuck out at me. I feel like Shawn felt responsible for Gus, seeing as how Gus didn’t want to get on that boat in the first place, but then Shawn tricked him into it, and that’s why Gus is even here at all. (I like the idea of Shawn being quietly heroic like that; leave me alone.)
“You're psychic?” the gunman repeated.
“Yeah,” Shawn replied. “So I know you guys weren't really on your way to Monterey, and I know you weren't stranded.” He was pretty sure Gus was giving him that silent look that meant to shut up and quit talking, but something about the bad guy never lowering his weapon was a great motivation to keep the man’s finger off the trigger. “In fact,” Shawn added, “you were in a desperate search for the wreckage of the Rocananantee!”
“That was nowhere near close,” Gus corrected him. When Shawn glanced over at his friend, he could see the side eye of disapproval that Gus was giving him.
I’m convinced Shawn knew exactly how to pronounce that plane’s name. Between having heard Lassie say it and seeing it written down, he couldn't have missed it. I think he was trying to do two things: stall the bad guys and get Gus’s mind off of the gun. At least one of which succeeded. Gus, did the second thing work?
“I really hate that you said that,” the man growled. He turned to his partner. “Do we shoot ‘em?”
The partner shrugged. “I don't know yet,” he muttered back in response.
“You don't know yet?” Shawn latched onto the uncertainty. Jules was tracking them. If he could just keep the smugglers talking long enough… “Well umm, I'll tell you what else I know!” he offered. “You found your wreckage from a plane that everyone assumed escaped but actually went down in restricted waters, which is why your booty was so tough to find!”
And this is where my road diverges from the episode’s. I really wanted to paint the scene for my readers, to pull them into what was happening in that moment in the actual episode, so I made the decision to include parts of the actual scene from the actual episode. I felt like I needed that set up to then transition into the “what if” part I was making up. I decided Shawn’s attempt at stalling should be ineffective. I mean, these are the bad guys who killed a sea lion when they hauled off and shot into the water because they thought a diver was coming their way. They aren’t the most rationally-thinking pair of criminals out there.
Both of the smugglers’ eyes opened wide in surprise at that, and the talkative one’s expression hardened a moment later. “They’re cops, man!” he exclaimed to his partner. Then, before either Shawn or Gus could set the record straight, his finger tightened on the trigger.
Shawn barely had time to see the explosion of the muzzle flash or register the bang of the shot before something -- the bullet, he corrected himself -- hit its target.
I don’t know if any of you have ever been in a life-or-death situation, but as cliche as it sounds, things really do seem to play out in slow motion. Thankfully I haven’t ever been shot (haha) but I did find myself at the swimming pool and looking up to find a stranger’s kid drowning. It honestly felt like several solid minutes between my looking up from my book, seeing the situation, looking over to the mom who was not paying attention, walking to the side of the pool, looking back to the mom, and back to the kid. I remember even trying to call out to the kid and then trying to yell at the mom, but my words seemed to be stuck in my throat and nothing came out. My sister told me later that one second I was sitting on the chair reading and the next I was in the pool, but I promise you it felt like an eternity.
Anyway, that was a bit of a tangent, but all that to say, I drew off of that experience here. I figured if anything were a life and death situation, getting shot fit the bill. Plus, slowing down Shawn’s point of view gave me the opportunity to explain the whole scene without it feeling too rushed or bogged down in details.
It was as if someone had pressed the slow-motion button on the scene in the next instant, because he felt the impact in his lower right side but then stood there, frowning in confusion at the absolute lack of any feeling. It didn’t even seem like he was moving, and a glance to Gus showed his friend’s face frozen in horror. Then Shawn turned back to the smugglers, noting their grim looks, and then the slow-mo ended as suddenly as it had begun.
GASP
I imagined this playing out on screen where the sounds and music slow down and the actual moment plays out and then BOOM you’re back in the frenzied pace of the action.
Shawn sucked in a lungful of air as he stumbled backward at the full impact of the shot. It was nothing as dramatic as in the movies, where the victim of a gunshot is thrown back against whatever surface is behind them. Rather, this felt just like a harsh punch that resulted in his teetering on his feet for a moment. He felt as if he couldn’t catch his breath, as much as he tried, and he sank to his knees as he gulped for more air.
Breathe, he told himself. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, BREATHE.
Then the searing pain hit, ripping through his side and wrapping around his insides and making it that much harder to get oxygen in his lungs. Every breath felt like fire, but something inside of him knew that he couldn’t survive if he stopped breathing and refused to entertain the idea.
His hands went to his side and clenched against it. It was an instinctive response, as much an attempt to quell the pain as it was a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that he probably should try to keep as much blood as possible inside his body.
I felt like that was a “Shawn” comment.
Blood… Shawn glanced down, almost as an afterthought, and blinked at the red that was already coating his fists. From somewhere up above him came a noise that he was pretty sure belonged to Gus and his “iron stomach” --
Poor Gus. He desperately wants to have an iron stomach, but that’s not exactly the case.
-- and Shawn then realized that he’d missed whatever had occurred between the shot and the current moment. He frowned deeply; that was disconcerting. Shawn didn’t like having missing gaps in his memory. He wasn’t used to it; usually, he noticed everything around him. Thinking back, he was pretty sure his friend had yelled his name, and he was also pretty sure he had heard the shorter smuggler ordering Gus to stay put, but that was about all Shawn could recall.
I honestly did try to write this out, but I couldn’t get it to work. I love the idea that Gus tried to jump to help his friend but then the bad guy was all “nuh-uh, nothing doing, you stay right where you are” and poor Gus was forced to just stand there and watch and try to stall the bad guys himself to keep from them shooting him or shooting Shawn again.
And then to add to his confusion, he suddenly found himself staring at the ceiling, wondering exactly when that had happened since the last thing he could remember was swaying on his knees.
Shawn blinked again, and the room faded in and out, various colors weaving across his vision, and he hissed through his teeth at the pain. His mind was spinning, and he grimaced as he focused on the only thing he could remember at the moment: keep pressure on that wound.
Huh. That sounded suspiciously like his dad. He was never going to tell Henry about the little voice in his brain that repeated his dad’s various lectures over the years, but that didn’t exactly matter right now. Shawn was just glad his dad had decided to teach him first aid as much as he did, ‘not that you’ll ever get shot but just in case.’ He’d have to complain later about Henry having jinxed his life with that statement.
I have this headcanon that all of the lessons over the years have resulted in Shawn’s little voice of reason sounding like Henry.
Also, (thankfully) I have no idea what getting shot feels like so I just made it up as I went along. I think it at least seems reasonable. If nothing else, it’s dramatic and descriptive enough for me to think it works. *shrug*
“Shawn!”
That wasn’t Gus’s voice. And why were there suddenly so many more echoes in this warehouse? That didn’t make sense.
“Kid! Open your eyes!”
Someone was patting his cheek firmly enough that Shawn couldn’t ignore whoever it was, and he acquiesced by squinting one eye open. “Huh?”
Henry’s face filled Shawn’s vision. “Oh thank God. Shawn! How are you feeling?”
I liked the idea of Henry showing up. It worked because he was already involved in this because of the whole “Shawn stealing his boat” thing. Plus, it gave me an excuse to use one of the many things I love in Psych, which is Henry and Shawn actually caring about each other, even if it’s in their grumpy, Spencer-men way.
“You really asking me that?” Shawn muttered, teeth still clenched together.
There was suddenly sharp pressure on his side, and Shawn hissed at the unexpected addition to his pain.
Henry grimaced in sympathy. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but we have to stop this bleeding.” He glanced down, then back to his son’s face. “Ambulance is on its way.”
Shawn just swallowed and nodded, closing his eyes as he tried to concentrate on something else, anything else. But then there was a hand on his cheek again, prodding him again.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, Shawn,” Henry pressed.
Making a face at the order, Shawn looked around slowly. “Where’s Gus?”
Of course, Shawn knows his dad is speaking the truth, but he can’t be caught just outright admitting it without at least a facial expression of complaint.
Also, Gus abandoned me, so it’s his own fault he didn’t get any more screen-- er, page time here.
Henry smiled gently. “He’s fine; don’t worry. Juliet is taking his statement.”
“We get the bad guys?” Shawn asked. He just wanted to shut his eyes and ignore everything, but he knew his dad would never let him, so he pressed on with the only other subject on his mind at the moment.
“Yeah.” Henry nodded. “Yeah, we got ‘em, Shawn.”
This whole exchange is partly because I needed filler time. Also, as it happens, when I write, I let the scene start playing out in my head and then I just write what my imagination is filling in. I know it’s really me doing the imagining, but I can really take a backseat and let my subconscious fill in what each character would be doing and saying. In this case, it was this dialogue, and that’s how that happened.
“How is he?” A new voice broke into the conversation just then, one Shawn recognized immediately.
He grinned. “Lassie!”
And then I had to bring the whole fic back into line with the episode. I know the rules of this challenge didn’t specify that I had to stick to how it happened in the show. However, I like the idea of inserting my scene into the actual script of the episode. Of course, it’s not ending exactly the same (because that was the name of the game -- or, in this case, challenge), but I wanted to come full-circle back to the episode itself.
That meant I needed to bring Lassie into the scene so I could use the episode’s dialogue. I did try to write Juliet into it, too, but nothing seemed to work right.
“He’ll be okay,” Henry answered the head detective’s question. “Where’s that ambulance?”
“Should be here any minute,” Lassiter responded. As if to agree with him, the shriek of sirens echoed around them just then.
“Wait, Lassie!” Shawn called, coughing and then wincing at the effort. His vision was starting to grow gray again, but he needed to say something before he lost it. There was no way he was passing up an opportunity this golden.
As we all know, Shawn doesn’t actually get shot in the episode. But he does tell Lassiter about the diamonds and messes with him, because he’s Shawn, so of course he does. I love the dialogue and wouldn’t dream of changing it. Plus, when I thought about it, it was a perfect ending. So this is where I hopped back into transcription mode and finished out my fic the same way the Psych writers finished out their scene.
The detective raised an eyebrow in anticipation of whatever Shawn was about to say.
“Lassie... I believe you'll find that whatever your missing smugglers had… diamonds, right? Perhaps in the boat.” Shawn grinned despite himself.
“What are you talking about?” Lassiter demanded.
“I'm helping you!” Shawn exclaimed, ignoring the warning look on his dad’s face. “I told you. It's a two-way street.”
Okay, so not all of it is exact episode dialogue/action because nobody’s worried about Shawn having a bullet in him. But most of it is the script.
Lassiter blinked. “Spencer, you’re an idiot. Save your strength.” But even as he said the words, Lassiter was turning back for the boat with a look of intent curiosity on his face. Then he paused. “Hold on. How did you--”
Shawn grinned. “A little bit of this,” he winked, “and a whole lot of that,” he added with a wiggle of his fingers.
And that’s all, folks! I hope you enjoyed that little insight into my writing process. (Also, I remembered how much I love doing these commentaries, so even if you didn’t, I did, and that’s all that counts, right?) (That was such a run-on sentence. Wow.)
Don’t forget to check out the discussion thread over on the forums! You’re welcome to leave questions in the reviews here, as well, if you’d like. Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings!
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