Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This is a fic I wrote about a year ago (gosh has it been long). I figured I might as well post it over here while I'm working on my current Sherlock WIP (which should be up sometime in December). Since it's already completed I should be uploading a chapter a day, I won't keep you guys in too much suspense. ; )
Just a general thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my work so far, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!

1995

Shawn sat on the lawn chair and stretched out his legs. He soaked up the sun and sighed. Solitude. As a teen, he had found the notion exciting, thinking of it as independence. Now it felt like he was about to be suffocated by it. The house was quiet and calm on the surface, but under that lay the tension that had been stirring around for the past few years. With it came a silence, a nervous silence that occurred when two people under the same roof couldn't even talk to each other anymore. He really didn't even go into his house anymore. Most of his time he spent at Gus' house or outside, if only to avoid the crushing silence of his house for a little while.

He looked up at the clouds, wondering how long he should wait before dragging Gus away from studying and forcing him to go to the arcade. Shawn looked at his watch. He figured he'd let Gus study for another fifteen minutes before inviting himself in.

His ears perked up as he heard the wooden fence creak and he looked up to see his dad's partner walking towards him. Shawn frowned slightly, quickly going through all the reasons in his mind why his dad's partner would come here alone. He wasn't left with many.

"Hey, Daren," Shawn said standing up.

Daren smiled thinly and shook Shawn's hand. "Hi, Shawn," he said, his voice soft.

Shawn's eyebrows shot downwards. He noticed the way Daren's hands clenched slightly, like they always did when he was nervous. "What's up?" he said.

Daren sighed. "Shawn, you better sit down for this."

Shawn felt his insides go cold. He knew what was coming next. His father had taught him how to break news to someone; the first thing you do is sit them down. If something was wrong with his mom or Gus, his dad would be the one giving him news. But his dad wasn't here…that could only mean…no. No, there was no way. It wasn't possible.

Shawn sat down stiffly, sitting on the edge of the lawn chair. His foot started tapping lightly as Daren joined him on the second chair. His stomach churned from the anxiety and he felt like he was about to be sick. Shawn took a deep breath. "Tell me what happened," he said calmly.

Daren leaned forward and looked Shawn in the eye. His expression had never been so serious, not that Shawn could remember.

"Your father was shot, son," he said sympathetically.

Shot...that wasn't possibly. It just wasn't. Sure, Shawn had been expecting bad news, but God...this just wasn't something that could happen. It wasn't something that was supposed to happen. His dad couldn't be...No.

Before Shawn could even respond, Daren continued. "We were trying to rescue a hostage; a young man with a rich father, not that much older than yourself. We had the building surrounded, expecting to surprise the bastards. We thought it was all going according to plan." Daren shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. "It couldn't have been farther from the truth. Your father only observed that they were onto us at the last minute, and ordered everyone to leave the building. I had just come out of the building when I heard the gunfire."

Shawn's hands clenched the arms of the chair. He felt his stomach twist and he knew his breathing was coming a little faster than normal. Daren paused for Shawn to say something, but his mouth seemed to be frozen shut.

"Your father was shot getting the hostage out of there you know," he said with a small note of pride. "He died a hero's death."

Shawn looked up at him wordlessly. His mouth parted slightly, but no words would come out. His throat seemed to be closing up and it felt like he was choking. He probably would have sat there with his mouth agape forever if he hadn't been startled from his reverie by Daren.

"I'm so sorry, Shawn," he said, wiping the corners of his eyes. "You know your father was a great man, and I was honored to have him as my partner." After a pause he added, "And my friend."

Shawn nodded without really listening to what Daren was saying. His ears seemed to be buzzing with his own unidentifiable thoughts right now. With a great deal of effort, Shawn took a deep breath and put a small sad smile on his face, if only to have some expression for Daren to see.

"Thanks for telling me, Daren," he said flatly. He knew Daren wasn't the bit fooled by his act, but he was grateful for him not prodding him into talking about it. He must be used to avoiding Spencer tabooed topics by now.

"What do you think you're going to do, Shawn?" Daren asked.

Shawn frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You're 18, technically an adult. Even so, your mom is out of town and if you stayed here you'd be all to yourself," Daren said looking inside the barren house from the screen door. "I just need to know if you plan on staying at a friend's house or here so I can update you on his funeral plans."

"He made funeral plans?" Shawn asked weakly, feeling like he was living a dream or, more accurately, a nightmare.

"As soon as he joined the force," Daren said softly. For a moment, the two sat with the breeze on their faces and Shawn closed his eyes. From the moment his father had become a police officer, he had been prepared for death. Shawn had always known it could happen, but he never actually thought it would. Not to his dad. Apparently, his father had known better than him. As usual, he thought, unable to stop resenting the man even after his death.

Shawn opened his eyes and looked back into the house. He hadn't thought of it like a home; not in a long time. He had trouble just staying in it for meals and sleeping. The thought of calling it his made his heart ache. Shawn shook his head. "I think I'll stay at Gus' for awhile," he said.

Daren nodded. "I think that's for the best. It'll be good for you to have a friend around right now." He stood up and pulled Shawn into a quick embrace. "I really am sorry, Shawn," he said sadly. "Your father wanted badly to see you graduate."

Shawn nodded without saying anything. He gave Daren another false smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Thanks for coming over and telling me, Daren," he said.

"If you need anything just call," he said walking back to his car. Shawn nodded once more and went into the kitchen. He looked around, seeing the room as if for the first time. His father had bought his house right before he was born – he had been raised in it. Shawn had always seen the house as his dad's, even though his mom had paid for it as well. Henry had taken pride in the house and was always the one to take care of the lawn and cook the dinners; taking care to do his chores daily. But now that his father wasn't there, the house seemed so empty, so sad. Like a lost dog left out in the rain by its owner.

Shawn wondered what would happen to the house and realized he would most likely get it in the will. His mom wouldn't want it, and after the separation Henry had no one to give the house too except Shawn. Shawn wasn't sure how he felt about that. It seemed wrong to own his father's house while the many ghosts of their relationship were there. He remembered fights and arguments taking place in this house and winced at the thought of having to own the place which inhabited so many memories.

Shouldn't he be sad that his dad was…was…

He wasn't sure what to feel; anger at his dad dying while being his workaholic self, grief that he was gone forever, or a kind of sick jealousy that his father had died saving this other kid without knowing what would happen to Shawn because of it. Most likely he was feeling all three. Though at the same time he felt a nothingness, like when his father left he took something inside of Shawn with him, leaving him hollow. Damn it, why had his dad gotten himself shot? Henry was just leaving him to suffer for it. Shawn sighed and rubbed his head to sooth the headache that was slowly forming.

Shawn turned his eyes away from the house and his eyes fell upon the phone that hung from the kitchen wall. Not knowing what else to do, how else to avoid the thoughts that were slowly crushing him, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. Shawn absently thought that it felt too cold to be a May evening. The phone rang five times before the person on the other end picked up.

"Burton," Gus answered. Shawn could imagine Gus being surrounded by books, studying restlessly for the far off finals, and being annoyed at the disturbance. Shawn almost hung up the phone then. Instead he swallowed and said, "Hey, it's Shawn."

"What part of, 'I'm studying,' don't you understand?" Gus said, annoyed. "I told you not to call-"

"Gus," Shawn interrupted. "My dad died."

In truth, Shawn hadn't planned to blurt it out like that. He wasn't even sure if he would have the strength to say it at all, thinking maybe he would just call Gus to pretend that today was normal. Once Shawn said the words aloud, he felt his stomach sink as the truth settled in. His dad was really dead. He wasn't coming back. Unexpected, crushing sadness enveloped him.

Shawn could imagine Gus' eyes widening on the other end of the line, and knew the textbooks had been forgotten.

"Oh my God…Shawn, I'm so sorry," Gus said sincerely. Shawn knew that Gus meant it; meant it more than anyone else could. Yet the words didn't help him like he might have expected them to. Instead he only felt his sadness deepen as his father's death became that much more real. He wiped casually at his eyes, forgetting that Gus couldn't see him.

A silence grew between them, with the death of someone who had been like a father to both of them at the center.

"Do you want me to come over?" Gus asked. Shawn was grateful for Gus asking, knowing that Gus was as uncomfortable dealing with death as he was. At the same time, he felt a little like he was being coddled by Gus and Daren, and felt a twinge of anger. He pushed it down though; knowing that blowing up was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

"No thanks. But, listen, do you mind if I come over there?" Shawn asked, feeling like a child asking for his security blanket. "The house is empty right now, and I…I can't stay here," he said looking around at the house again. Spotting a picture of his father and him together, he turned away slightly.

He knew Gus was nodding on the other line. "Of course, Shawn, I'll tell my mom you're coming." After a pause Gus spoke again. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I honestly don't know," he said after a pause, knowing he could have lied, but at the same time feeling like it wouldn't have been right to lie to Gus. Not this time.

"I'm so sorry," Gus said again.

Shawn didn't say anything for a few seconds; just taking a last look around the house and mentally going over what he would bring to the Guster's house that evening. "I'll be right over," Shawn said finally, hanging up the phone while looking again at the picture of him and his dad together. Without knowing why, he grabbed it before he went upstairs.

It was a picture at an old campsite that Shawn and Henry had used to frequent. The trips had become less and less as the years went by, soon disappearing all together. This had been one of the last ones, and somehow his mom had gotten a picture of the two together, smiling. It was probably one of his happiest memories with his father.

Shawn sighed and was about to run his hand through his hair before realizing it was an old habit of his dad's. He went upstairs and packed a small backpack for his stay with the Guster's. Shouldering the bag, he took one last look around his dad's – now probably his – house, and walked out the back door.