Hi guys! Like many of us, I'm bored. (I love being bored - really gets the creative juices flowing) I really wanted to write something epic, but apparently that doesn't happen on demand. So I have decided to write a bunch of snippets of whump. (like Whumptober) Some will have a bit of story - others will be a shameless excuse for pure whump. My goal is to keep them all around 1000 words, but we'll see. Also, fair warning, I'm putting this note at the beginning of each one since I don't know which one you'll read first.

Thank you for reading and please review if you have a moment. -Papaya

*sigh* They can't all be winners.

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Heroics
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'Where's Chief Vick?!" Shawn had shouted at Lassiter.

To his credit, the head detective had looked around for her, but he had his hands full at the moment.

"Shawn!" Henry had shouted at him, "Evidence Lockup. She'd have to secure—"

Shawn was already gone.

"I didn't mean go after her!" Henry had yelled trying to stop his son, "Shawn!"

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That was honestly the last thing Shawn remembered.

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All the facts of this case had been there from the very beginning, but the key that unlocked the whole thing hadn't appeared until this morning.

Everything had fallen into place and Shawn had realized that there was a bomb in the basement of the Santa Barbara Police Station.

He'd called Chief Vick immediately, as he and Gus had rushed to the station. Thankfully, she understood that it was not a good idea to hesitate on something like this. If her psychic turned out to be wrong, she could always claim it was just another drill.

He wasn't wrong.

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Pulling up in front of the station with seconds to spare, Shawn was thankful to see that the well-trained police force had evacuated the building and everyone was safely gathered across the street.

The bomb squad was just arriving.

Shawn did a quick headcount: Dad, Jules, Lassie, Vick—

Where was Chief Vick? He had to find her— Get her out—

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He couldn't remember actually doing it, but he assumed he had run, rather heroically, into a building that was about to blow up.

But then it blew up.

Shawn didn't feel particularly heroic at the moment. He felt bruised, his head throbbed, and at the moment he had no idea where he was. He pushed some debris off his chest and rolled over—

Ohhh. Had he just rolled over? It felt like he had rolled into a bonfire, or a bed of broken glass. His chest felt like it had caved in. He pressed a hand to his ribs half expecting to feel a hole there, but it felt normal, he wasn't bleeding, and he still needed to find Vick.

He looked around. It was dark, but thankfully at least one of the emergency lights was still working. He was pretty sure he was in the basement of the station, near the Evidence Locker, but since nothing was where it was supposed to be it was hard to tell. There was no sign of the stairs or any way out for that matter, just piles of debris wherever he looked. They were trapped.

He took a deep breath and coughed— painfully. There was definitely something wrong with his chest. At the very least he was going to have some spectacular bruising. He wanted to go home, take some aspirin and go to bed with a giant ice pack. But first, he needed to finish what he'd started.

Where was the Chief?

He got up slowly, thankful that— other than the pain in his chest— all his body parts seemed to be in working order.

"Chief?" he called, "You down here?"

There was no answer.

"Chief?" he shouted again.

He heard a noise behind him. He spun around, but all he saw was yet another pile of debris.

"Chief?" He made his way over to it. As soon as he got close enough to see over the pile he spotted her, "Chief!" She was tucked into a gap between the pile and the wall. Her back was against the wall, and her legs were buried. She was trapped. "Chief!"

She stirred.

Relieved, Shawn carefully made his way to her side, "Are you okay?" he asked.

She blinked a few times and looked up at him, "Did we get everyone out?"

He knelt down next to her and nodded, "I think so. I didn't see anyone else." He had no idea if that was actually true, but since he didn't remember seeing anyone else, he figured it was close enough. Plus he hoped she would find some comfort in the thought. "How do you feel?"

"Well, I've had better days, but I think I'm okay— just stuck."

"Let's get you out of here," he said as he began to shift bits of ceiling tile and other unidentifiable stuff off her legs.

"You should go," she told him half-heartedly, "The building may not be stable."

He paused and looked at her, "I know that's what you're supposed to say," he said, "But I think we both know that's not going to happen."

She smiled at him— that small, tolerant smile she reserved for when she knew she wasn't supposed to approve of what he was doing, but she did anyway.

Shawn always liked that smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him as she tried to help dig herself out from under the mess, "You were safe. You shouldn't have come."

Shawn didn't answer because he was realizing they had a bigger problem. Now that all the smaller pieces had shifted, he could see that a large beam was lying across her legs. "How do your legs feel?"

She was puzzled by the question until he moved so she could see what he was worried about. "Actually they're pretty numb."

Shawn was taking a closer look at how she was trapped, "I can't see any blood, so that's good," he told her, "I'm going to see if I can get at the other side."

He climbed over the beam, careful not to jostle it, and began to dig where he assumed her feet should be. Every move he made fueled the fire in his chest. He was really looking forward to getting out of here and getting acquainted with that ice pack, but that wasn't going to happen until the Chief was safe.

He was worried. If her legs had been crushed, moving the beam would make things worse. But he couldn't leave her here, either.

"Help is on the way," she told him, although Shawn wasn't sure if she was trying to comfort him or herself.

"Can you wiggle your toes?" He asked, having uncovered them.

She could.

He blew out a sigh of relief and coughed painfully. He wrapped his arms around his chest and wished the pain would subside— even for just a moment. He couldn't help groaning when he finally managed to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, embarrassed that she hadn't asked before.

He nodded, not trusting his voice completely, "Yeah," he rasped, "just bruised."

He was examining the beam more closely. "If I can lift this a little, do you think you can scoot out from under?"

She nodded, looking up at him. She didn't think he'd be able to do it, "We can just wait for help to arrive…"

Shawn shook his head. "Trapped in an Unstable Building was one of the many things my dad taught me about," he told her ruefully, "Get out quick, before things start to shift."

He sounded like he was quoting. "Your dad taught you this?" She asked doubtfully.

He waved a hand dismissively, "Don't get me started," and moved to where he felt he'd have the best grip. "I don't have to lift the full weight," he pointed out, "That end is on the floor. I just have to shift this end enough that you can wiggle out."

She nodded at him and prepared to move.

"Ready?" he asked, "One, two, three!"

Shawn lifted with all his might. Karen did her best to squirm out from under the beam. But then Shawn felt something shift in his chest and he had to let go.

"Sorry," he gasped, and sat down hard, wrapping his arms around his rib cage. That really hurt. He hadn't thought the pain could get worse. But it had.

Karen was examining the beam. Shawn hadn't been able to shift it at all. She was still trapped, and to make matters worse, now the building was making odd creaking noises.

Shawn swallowed hard. He needed to get her out. "Maybe a lever?" He suggested breathlessly.

The Chief had other ideas, "Maybe you need to get out of here." She left 'before the building collapses' unsaid.

Shawn just shook his head and went to find something he could use to pry the beam off her legs.

Given the amount of rubble surrounding them, it didn't take long. He found a six-foot length of pipe. Then he slid a piece of concrete into a position to be his fulcrum. "And to think I said I'd never— never use— my fifth-grade— math." He wondered why he was so out of breath.

He jammed one end of the pipe under the beam, "You ready?" he asked.

She nodded, noticing that Shawn was quite a bit paler than he had been.

No time to ask about it though, because he was pushing down on the lever with everything he had.

She squirmed.

Nothing. The beam didn't move a millimeter.

But Shawn did. He grabbed his chest, started to cough savagely, and dropped to the floor next to her.

She reached over and rubbed his back until he could catch his breath. Something was very wrong.

"Well, that's— not— good," he said, hoarsely, confirming her fears.

Karen could see where he'd coughed blood onto his sleeve. "Shawn!"

He leaned back against the wall next to her, closed his eyes, and just concentrated on breathing.

"Your ribs must be broken—"

Tearing a hole in my lung, Shawn silently finished the thought she'd left unsaid. "This is not— not good."

He was scared.

"We need to get you out of here."

He rolled his head her way and just looked at her.

They both needed to get out of there.

The building creaked. Dust fell from the ceiling.

"This is not good," she echoed his thought. She felt so completely helpless. Shawn was in trouble— because of her. She should have gotten out faster. Then neither of them would be in this predicament. She was the chief, which made him her responsibility. And there was absolutely nothing she could do to help him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He just shook his head, not lifting it off the wall. "Any minute now— Lassie'll— dig us— out," he whispered. His gaze shifted to where he was pretty sure the stairway was supposed to be. "Maybe Dad."

Karen reached over and took his hand, "Hang in there, Shawn."

He just nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

His condition was deteriorating rapidly.

She followed his gaze. And saw some of the debris shift. "Help!" She shouted, "Is somebody there?!"

She could hear muffled sounds from the other side. Then a beam of light shot into the room as a hole was created in the barrier.

"Chief?" a voice called, "You in there?"

"We're trapped," she called frantically, "Mr. Spencer is badly injured!"

The hole was made larger and she could see Lassiter and a couple other rescue workers.

"Hang on, Chief," he called, "We'll have you out of there in no time."

She turned to Shawn, "Did you hear that?" she asked, "We're getting out of here, you just have to hang on a little longer."

He managed a small nod.

The hole was made bigger and rescue workers, followed by Lassiter and Henry poured in.

Two workers immediately began setting a jaws-of-life type machine under the beam, as a third began taking Karen's vitals.

She didn't pay them much attention, though, her gaze was fixed on Shawn's pale face.

The EMT tending to him quickly took in his compromised breathing and the bluish tinge to his skin. "Mr. Spencer, does your chest hurt?" He began gently feeling along Shawn's ribs.

Shawn nodded weakly, "Ca— can't— breathe," he managed to gasp. Then he hissed in pain and squirmed when the EMT found his broken ribs.

Immediately the man repositioned his stethoscope several times and Karen heard him murmur something along the lines of, 'reduced breath sounds' and then he reached into his bag for a rather large syringe.

As he began sterilizing a spot on Shawn's side, Karen, knowing her psychic's strong aversion to pointy things, spoke firmly, "Shawn?" she got his attention, his bleary gaze turned to her, "Shawn, I want you to look at me, okay? Just look at me." She strengthened her grip on his hand.

Henry understood exactly what was happening. He knew the EMT had to relieve the pressure on Shawn's damaged lung so that he could draw breath. For them to do this in the field, rather than waiting for the more controlled environment of the OR, meant Shawn was in real trouble.

He saw that the rescue workers had freed Karen's legs and were preparing to lift her out of there. He stopped them. Her injuries were not life-threatening, and Shawn needed her right now.

Then the EMT inserted the needle. Shawn grabbed Karen's hand hard, and whimpered. He was trying so hard to be still. He knew this had to happen, but it hurt.

Henry kept his mouth shut, and gripped Karen's shoulder, lending his strength the only way he could.

Then the worst was over, and Shawn could breathe. He relaxed slightly.

"You're gonna be okay, Shawn," Karen told him. Her hand was pulled from his as she was lifted onto a backboard and carried away.

Henry immediately took her place at Shawn's side. "Hey, Kid, That was a pretty stupid stunt you pulled there."

Shawn rolled his eyes, only Henry would scold at a time like this, "M'totally a hero—"

Henry tried to scowl, but couldn't help smiling a little, "You've got a weird definition of hero…"

Then Shawn was lifted onto his own backboard, "Hero," he murmured weakly, "Totally a hero." As they carried him towards the opening Henry could barely hear him, "Prob'ly get 'n award!"

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End
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