Hello readers! Thank you all for sticking with me and I apologize for making you wait so long for an update. Thank you to those who encouraged me to keep writing this story. You're the reason for this next chapter. Much love.

"A coma? How is that better," was all Lassiter heard as he met Gus in the early morning on the corner of Maple and Broadrick. He waited patiently, squinting into the glare of the downtown windows as the phone call continued a few moments longer. Finally, Gus put his phone back into his pocket, attention turning to the detective. He grimaced.

"Bad news," Lassiter asked warily.

Gus's brow was furrowed and his eyes were watery from exhaustion. "That was Juliet," he said as if forcing the words out of his mouth.

"I thought she was at home," Lassiter said as they set off down the street to a popular fisherman's bar.

"She was," Gus replied, "But Shawn's not doing so good," he said, his voice faltering sightly. "She took a cab back after I came to meet you."

The two men entered the bar together and squinted. It seemed dark and dingy to their unadjusted eyes after walking so long in the sunlight. They looked around, but there was no one to be found.

"I assume that they're putting him into a coma because he still can't keep anything down," Lassiter asked.

"Yeah," Gus sighed. "They had him in ice this morning because his fever is too high, but he's in too much pain. Keeps passing out." Carlton said nothing, and Gus continued. "His body's just exhausted. He can't fight it so...they're putting him in a coma to give his body a chance to fight the poison."

"We need to find out what the poison is," Lassiter said in a low grumble.

"Shawn just has to hold on a few more hours until the bloodwork comes back. He'll be fine," Gus said, but with a note of uncertainty.

XXX 1 hour earlier XXX

"Shawn, Shawn, I'm here. It's me," Juliet panted as she rushed into the hospital room, reaching desperately for Shawn's hand.

She couldn't really call what she had been doing "resting," sleeping maybe, but it was an anxious, fitful sleep. She was pulled out of a bad dream to her cell phone ringing shrilly. It was Henry. She needed to come back to the hospital, now.

"Juliet," he groaned, his body wracked with chills. Sweat trickled down his ashen face, now tinged with green, illuminating the dark circles that had formed around his eyes. "You've got to make it stop. Please, Jules," he begged through gritted teeth.

Ice packs lay scattered on the bed in an attempt to bring down Shawn's temperature, but they were strewn by his thrashes of pain. He grabbed at a bucket to his left and pushed himself up, spitting bile as he dry heaved. Juliet cast a wary look behind her to Henry who ran his hands over his eyes in exhaustion.

"He's been talking out of his head all morning," he sighed. "His body can't take a fever this high."

Shawn grit his teeth as he convulsed. His eyes were screwed together in pain, and he gripped the bed sheets so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Take deep breaths," Juliet soothed, pressing her cold fingers to his cheek. "I'll stay right here."

XXX

"Stay right here," Lassiter ordered. "I'm going to go check and see if they're out back."

Gus nodded and watched the lanky detective disappear out the door. It was hard to believe that this was the same crowded bar that he and Shawn had a drink at just a few days ago.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember things like Shawn remembers things. But so much had happened since then. That was three whole days ago. He couldn't remember the waitresses name or what she had said to them. He barely remembered what they had ordered.

But Shawn had said, "weird lunch," to Juliet, and this is definitely where they had eaten lunch the day he had gotten sick. Gus opened his eyes again. He had to be missing something, something right in front of his eyes.

XXX

Shawn was dying right in front of her eyes, and there was nothing Juliet could do to stop it. She had to be missing something. Shawn was put into a medically induced coma only moments ago, yet he already appeared motionless almost...lifeless.

Henry sat in a chair across from hers, dozing softly. He'd been up almost as long as she had. Of course he was exhausted. Of course he must be scared.

She held on tight to the knowledge that in just a few short hours, they would have the results back from the test and they would know just how to treat the poison. Shawn was resilient. She was sure that once given the proper medicine he would be back to himself in no time...or would there be lasting effects? She hadn't thought about that. No. Shawn would be okay. He had to be okay.

XXX

What was he going to do if Shawn wasn't okay? If he...no. Gus couldn't bring himself to think about that. He needed to focus on finding the person responsible.

"Focus. Focus," he whispered harshly to himself. "What are you missing?"

The shrill ring of his cell phone jolted him harshly, the kind of jolt that makes your heart race for a few long seconds. As he answered Lassiter came back to the bar with what must have been the owner.

"I'm sorry, detective. Now you're welcome to look at our security tapes if you'd like, but the only folks we really get in here are old fisherman. They don't seem to me to have the know-how to poison anyone."

"And none of your employees have been acting strangely the last few days," Lassiter interrogated. "Everyone has been showing up for work."

The older gentleman nodded his head.

"We've had the same few people working for us for years, no one new. They're good people," he said after a few seconds of silence, "Would never do something like that. They have no reason."

Lassiter nodded but remained unconvinced.

"Again, you're more than welcome to question them if you'd like," the owner tried again, but he trailed off as Gus approached them, staring at his phone, saying nothing.

"Any news, Guster," Lassiter asked, dreading the answer.

Gus nodded slowly.

"That was Juliet," he whispered.

"And," Lassiter drilled, almost too harshly.

"And...the poison couldn't be identified," he mumbled through the shock.

Lassiter rubbed his tired eyes. He knew what was coming next.

"And was does that mean for Spencer," he asked, in a softer tone.

"It means," Gus swallowed, "If we don't find who poisoned Shawn soon...he's going to die."