Chapter 3

Hangover

Gus POV

The first thing I remember was a throbbing pain in my right temple and the stale taste of rum in my mouth. I was hung over, that was for sure. The second thing I noticed was something pushing into my back. I groaned and tried to roll over so I could get more comfortable which only made me fall off the couch onto the hardwood floor… not much more comfortable. I rolled onto my back and saw Henry's two and a half foot bass staring down at me from the wall. So I was in the Spencer's… but why was I on the couch?

"Shawn?" I called out half-heartedly.

No answer.

I listened for any sound of life from upstairs but heard nothing. It hurt to think, there was something nagging in the back of my mind that just wasn't registering. Again I tried to hear something upstairs, maybe a shower or bed springs, anything. The silence made me uncomfortable and I knew something was wrong. I racked my brain for the answer and after a painful minute of hung-over thought my own voice filled my head. What kind of a sick bastard rapes his best friend?

Shit.

"Shawn?" I called again, louder this time. No answer. "Shawn?" I shouted a little desperately.

With some difficulty I managed to get myself back on the couch, that's when I noticed my keys on the coffee table. My sleeping bag was next to the couch too along with my overnight clothing. I couldn't think, my brain was working painfully slow and nothing made sense.

So Shawn had brought all of my things downstairs without waking me up. Why would he do that? And that meant he must be awake, so why wouldn't he answer me? I dropped my keys in my pocket and went upstairs. I had to talk to him… Yes, the inevitable awkwardness was scary, but we had to get through this. I didn't care that he didn't want to talk to me, he was going to have to. My head was spinning as I scaled the stairs but I finally got to his room.

I knocked on the door three times. "Shawn?" I asked awkwardly, trying to sound as far from angry as possible. "Listen Shawn, forget everything I said last night. I was drunk and I didn't mean it. Just please talk to me." I waited for an answer but didn't get one so I opened the door to find no one there.

Shawn's room at first looked normal, just as messy as ever. But after a moment Gus could tell something was wrong. His bedding was completely tangled and coming off of the bed entirely. All the drawers in his dresser were yanked open and half of its contents were sprawled around it. His bedside table was crooked and a foot away from where it should be, as if Shawn had kicked it. Little things were missing, his duffel bag on the top shelf of his closet, his tacky blue sunglasses that he wore every day, the picture of him and his mother when they went to Disney Land in 3rd grade.

I stood in his doorway, slowly letting it all sink in bit by bit. It took me far too long to put the pieces togethor but finally I realized it…

Shawn was gone.

Slowly the panic began to set in. I went to his dresser and opened up the cigar box where he kept all of his spare cash… empty. I went into the bathroom and his toothbrush was gone. I tried not to panic as I came to terms with what had happened. Shawn never had been the most… stable person. And I was his best friend, shouldn't I have known that? Shouldn't I have thought of that before I began accusing him of such horrible things?

I tried to suppress the guilt that threatened to comsume me. I sat on his bed and held my head in my hands. What the hell have I done… I thought to myself. Reluctantly I tried to remember exactly what happened the night before but everything was foggy.

I remembered watching a couple of bad movies. Ferris Bueller's Day Off I could remember well enough. But I didn't remember much after The Goonies was over. I remember being on Shawn's bed and feeling sick. Then some weird feeling I had… sadness? That wasn't it…

The next thing I remember was that look on Shawn's face right before I… right before I kissed him. There was something about that look that made me uncomfortable. Never had I ever or have I ever since seen Shawn look so helpless and vulnerable. It was raw emotion on the verge of desperation. That was the look that made me kiss him. What did that mean? Despite my inebriated state that expression was burned into my memory, it was the only thing I could remember clearly at all from last night.

After that all I remembered were blurred images of him... his rough lips, his bare chest, his fingers unbuttoning my shirt, straddling my hips, and his cocky grin every time I moaned. The memories were so bizarre I hardly believed they were true. That was the boy I've known since 1st grade, my best friend through and through, and we had been about to… I didn't want to think about it. It was just too much to take in at once.

I refused to let myself think of what happened after that. The things I had said to Shawn were inexcusable and had I been in his situation I wouldn't want to see me either. But running away? Again the truth caught me off guard. Shawn could be anywhere, he could have left right after I fell asleep, he could be a hundred miles away by now.

I'd just have to apologize… if I ever could that was. Shawn was gone. I prayed that he would see sense and come home because he knew when Shawn didn't want to be found, he'd make sure he wasn't.

I laid back on the messy bed the throbbing in my head only getting worse. I couldn't help but feel like I might have ruined something, something extremely important, forever. Shawn was gone, who knew where. Shawn never faced life if possible, he didn't want to. And even if he hadn't ran, could we really go back to the way that we were? Was there anyway we could forget what had happened? I felt like our entire friendship had gone up in flames in a matter of moments.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Shawn laughing this off, coming back in a few days saying he'd just nipped down to Mexico for a few days for some enchiladas. Saying something like, "Gus, you worry too much. Besides this will be a great chapter when I write my novel 'Shawn and Gus: an epic bromance.'"

But the only Shawn I could picture was the one looking down at me, tears sliding down his cheeks looking utterly pathetic as he registered the things I was saying. I had done that to him… I had started something that he didn't ask for and given him the blame for all of it.

A moment later I heard the front door slam. With a burst of hope I dashed out of Shawn's room and ran down the stairs to apologize immediately when I ran right into Henry.

I, still hung-over and confused, didn't speak for a moment.

"Well Gus are you gonna say something?" he demanded sarcastically after a minute of that scrutinizing glare.

"Oh! Uhh, good morning ," I said awkwardly after another moment of dumb-founded silence.

"Good morning to you Gus. Now tell me my son isn't still asleep," he said wearily as he took off his jacket and slung his belt with his pistol on the coat rack.

"Well…. Not exactly," I said nervously.

Henry gave him a suspicious sideways glance, Gus tried his best to look as innocent as possible even if he felt far from it at this moment. He sighed, "Alright Gus, something's up. You've had your guilty face on since I walked in the door. Now just tell me what he's done so I can find some pointless chore for him to do it and we can be on with our lives," he said giving me one of those stern looks that always made me spit the truth out immediately.

But I couldn't, not now anyways. What was I supposed to say? Sorry , you see you're son and myself had too much to drink last night and we almost slept together. Then I panicked, mercilessly shouted at him until he cried and now he's missing.

"No, no it's nothing like that," I said which was true in a way… Shawn hadn't done anything, "It's just that when I woke up he wasn't in his room. He probably got bored and took off somewhere."

I was always a terrible liar but Henry, who could see through every lie, even Shawn's, didn't seem to notice. "Fine, fine Gus. I'm going to bed," he said, and with that he brushed past me and disappeared upstairs.

For the moment I was in the clear. But if Shawn didn't show up within the day Henry would come to me first… and then what would I say?

I picked up my things and went into the kitchen to leave, hoping for the best, when something caught my eye. Next to the coffee pot was Shawn's favorite coffee mug and underneath was a half piece of paper written in Shawn's messy handwriting.

I'm sorry Gus

This story breaks my heart a little... BUT I need some advice. I'm torn between having Henry seeking out Gus and getting the truth out of him or having Henry be really protective of Shawn and ignore Gus completely not really knowing what's going on but assuming that Gus did something. The first one seems like something Henry would do and I have a better idea of how I'd write that chapter (Chapter 5).

I apologize for the long gap between chapters, been busy with school and such. I know what I want to write for the next one but I'm not gonna promise anything because it's gonna involve alot of really angsty Shawn and angst takes time sooo I'll just hope for the best

Review!

~liz

***I edited the first chapter because it was horrendous and I'll do the same for the second chapter...