Last chapter - thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews. I have another story ready to write so watch out for it.

---

Henry stepped out of the truck, slammed the door behind him and tucked the newspaper under his arm. He strode down the driveway, past a parked blue car that wasn't there when he left and made his way into the house. It had been a couple of days since Shawn was well enough to go back to his own place and Henry had never been so glad to have the house to himself again, so the unexpected arrival of Gus' car was intriguing.

"Shawn?" He called out. He dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door and dumped the newspaper on the kitchen table. "Gus?" He tried when he received no answer to the first inquiry. His head tilted upwards at a shuffling sound. He jogged up the stairs and the sound got louder.

"Shawn?" He called again.

"Up here!" A voice called. Henry turned the corner and frowned at the sight of the ladder protruding from the attic. He grabbed the rungs of the ladder and slowly made his way up into the attic, ignoring the protests from his aging limbs.

"Shawn," Henry called again, unable to spot his son amongst the junk. A second later, Shawn's head popped up from behind a stack of boxes.

"Hi Dad," his son greeted cheerfully.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" Henry asked.

Shawn came round the corner with a large box in his arms and dropped it at Henry's feet. "Doing what you asked," he replied, "Getting rid of my stuff for you. Although I have idea why. What are you going to with the extra space? Put more crap up here?"

"Shawn, just because you were well enough to go home, doesn't mean your ribs are up to lugging heavy boxes around!"

"I don't lug," Shawn said, "and my ribs are fine."

"Oh yeah? What about your fingers?" Henry eyed the broken fingers, still strapped together.

Shawn looked at his father as if he was crazy. "I have eight others that work perfectly fine," He answered. He rolled his eyes at his father's over protectiveness and disappeared around the pile of boxes again to grab another box. Henry narrowed his eyes when Shawn re-appeared with gritted teeth and a frown.

"Okay," Henry took the box off his son and placed it on the floor next to the last one. "No more," he ordered.

"I'm fine!" Shawn argued.

"Yeah, and I'm a psychic," Henry retorted.

"You never know, could be genetic," Shawn replied.

Henry rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He sat down on the nearest box and sighed. "Will you sit?" He asked, unable to stand Shawn towering over him. Shawn flopped down onto the opposite box. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

Shawn frowned in confusion, "You asked me to do it."

"Yes, but that was when you weren't bandaged up, drugged up and recovering from a kidnapping."

"I'm the last person you need to remind about that," Shawn winced.

"Look, the point is I shouldn't have gotten angry about all this stuff in the first place, you driving in bad weather-"

"-Me thinking you're the devil. Yeah I remember the conversation Dad and for the record? I don't think you're the devil."

Henry nodded, "I know, and I'm sorry."

Shawn looked up at his dad in surprise, "Did you just say you were sorry?" He looked around, "Is hell freezing over?"

Henry stood up. "Why do you make it so hard for me to apologize to you?" He asked. He started down the ladder to the first floor and he heard Shawn follow him.

"Because I have no idea why you think you need to apologize to me," Shawn replied.

Henry stopped and looked at his son as he finished descending the ladder, "Shawn, you ran because of our fight."

"I wasn't running," Shawn told him as the pair descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen, "I was gonna go up to Frisco for a couple of weeks. It's called a vacation."

"A vacation where you disappear without telling anyone that you're leaving, let alone where you are going?" Henry raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, Gus was pissed at me, you were pissed at me, who was I going to tell?"

"You could have left a message Shawn, anything but you didn't. So stop trying to make excuses for the fact that you were running."

"Okay," Shawn fell into the nearest chair, "but I didn't leave because of our fight. If I did, I'd be leaving once a week"

Henry frowned as he handed a glass of juice to Shawn and took a sip from his own glass. He sat down in the chair opposite Shawn, "Is that what you think?"

"Come on Dad, when don't we argue?"

"How about right now?"

"Well that's only because you've never been able to shout at me when I'm injured."

Henry frowned again, "Since when?"

"That time when I drove Jimmy Saunders bike off the roof of his garage and broke my leg? You were so pissed at me for being so stupid, but you didn't raise your voice at me until the cast came off."

"Shawn, you had a compound fracture and needed surgery. I was just glad you were alive."

Shawn snorted. "You and me both," he replied, rubbing his leg.

Henry changed the subject, "How's things between you and Gus?"

Shawn nodded. "Good," he answered, "He's feeling really guilty, won't stop buying me smoothies."

"I wondered why he let you borrow his car."

Shawn sighed, "It won't last." He gulped down the rest of the drink before standing up. "Well, I should finish with those boxes."

"Shawn!"

"What?"

"I'll bring the boxes over to your place later today."

"You sure?"

Henry stood up, "Get out of here before I change my mind."

Shawn smiled, "You don't have to tell me twice." He started towards the door.

"Shawn?" Shawn turned back around to look at his dad. "Maybe we should work on arguing less," He said with a half shrug, digging his hands into his jeans' pockets.

Shawn grinned, "I'd like that." Henry nodded. Shawn nodded back before turning to the door and leaving.