A/N: Wow. So. I wrote this for my friend to help her (and, in a way, me) slog through our classes. I've never written Shules before, but I figured this would be a great opportunity to write something she'll like and challenge myself. Anywho, I'm not accustomed to writing Shules – or most hetships, actually – so anything you guys can do to help me out with this new genre would be great.

I hope you guys like it and, of course, I hope you like it, Breanna. : )

Kiss It Better

Shawn shouldn't have gone to that warehouse alone. Juliet was sure he realized that, but he just loved a dramatic reveal, and he knew Lassiter would have the criminals on the ground with their hands behind their heads before Shawn could put his finger to his head.

And now Shawn was lying in a hospital bed with both legs broken, a head injury, a broken collarbone, and a stab wound in his side.

Juliet silently thanked God that her boyfriend was asleep, because she didn't want him to see her like this. The second the doors of Shawn's ambulance had shut, she had fallen apart. Lassiter had to drive her to the hospital, shooting her concerned looks and offering the occasional, awkward pat on the shoulder. She appreciated that he was trying, but nothing could help her. She knew the stab wound was deep, and Shawn had been losing blood fast when they finally managed to get to him. Nothing was going to make her okay until Shawn was looking at her, grinning at her, and joking with her again.

Juliet clasped her shaking hands together in her lap, watching him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. Her chest ached from crying, the skin of her cheeks itched, and her limbs were stiff from being curled up in the hard, scratchy armchair beside Shawn's bed. She only looked away from his bruised face when she heard, "O'Hara."

Lassiter stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee. He frowned. "Maybe you should head home. Get some sleep."

Juliet shook her head. "I can't." She wasn't sure exactly what she meant – if she couldn't leave, or if she couldn't sleep. It didn't matter. She just couldn't.

Lassiter's frown deepened, but he clearly knew better than to fight her. "Here, then." He shoved the coffee unceremoniously under her nose. She tried to give him a grateful smile, but her smiling muscles didn't seem to be working.

"You should go home yourself, Carlton. You look tired."

"Can't. I still have some work to do." Juliet knew he was lying, and that he was trying to stay to make sure she was alright. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want him there. It was humiliating enough that he had seen her as a sobbing mess in the passenger seat of his car. She didn't need him hovering over her while she –

While she what? Preemptively grieved? The thought made her shudder. No. Shawn wasn't going to die. He couldn't. No matter how many times the doctors told her that his condition was stable, however, the thought kept creeping back into her mind. She'd spent so long trying to come to terms with what could happen – Shawn getting kidnapped, Shawn getting hurt, Shawn getting killed – but now that it was happening, she didn't know what to do. She had told herself she would be strong and stoic and refuse to collapse. She had tried to be prepared. She wanted it not to hurt so much.

No luck there.

She felt weak. She was supposed to be a cop, for God's sake, not a scared girl. But she didn't know how to deal with this. She saw death up close every single day, but not with someone she knew and loved. She had seen more grieving lovers than she could count, but she could never imagine being one of them.

"You need anything?" Lassiter's question was surprisingly kind.

"No." Juliet's voice was hoarse. "I'm okay."

Lassiter shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, jangling his keys and glancing everywhere but his unkempt partner and the broken-down psychic. "I'll be outside," he finally said, clearing his throat.

"Alright."

"That is, for if there's something you… need help with."

"Thanks, Carlton."

Lassiter gave her a nod. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he turned and left with little more than an anxious glance. That was fine with her.

Juliet took Shawn's hand. His fingers were icy. With a spike of fear, she glanced at the heart monitor – it was still beeping away. She wished they wouldn't keep the rooms so cold.

With a sigh, she scooted closer to the bed. She watched Shawn's limp fingers, intertwined with hers, for a long time. She felt horribly empty. The adrenaline and tears were completely gone, and her head throbbed. Her thumb drifted mindlessly back and forth over his, and she barely noticed when her eyelids slipped closed.

"And how are we feeling today, Mr. Spencer?"

Juliet awoke, but she didn't open her eyes. Go away, she thought. Leave us alone, let me sleep before I have to wake up and keep freaking out again…

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard, "Pretty good. I would be better if I had an extra pudding, though." She could hear a smile in the voice.

The nurse laughed; an obnoxious, squealing noise. "Well, then, I'll be right back!" The click-clack of heels followed the nurse out of the room.

When it was finally silent, Juliet dared to open her eyes. She instantly closed them again – the sun burned, and they ached from the tears of the day before. She reopened them after a moment and, this time, forced them to stay that way as she looked into the smiling face of her boyfriend.

"Hey, Jules." Shawn grinned. "Did you know you drool sometimes when you sleep?"

Juliet sat up, staring at him in wonder. The doctors had said he was stable, but they said not to expect him to wake up for at least two days.

"It's not a lot, though," Shawn rambled. "It's only a little. It's the cute kind of drool. If that exists. Can drool be cute? I think it can be. But only if someone really cute is doing it. And you're really cute. So that would make sense, I gue-"

Juliet's lips were pressed against his before he could finish. When she pulled back, she could feel her eyes watering. "You… you're okay," she gasped. She pressed a hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat thrumming under her fingers.

"Of course I am, Jules." Shawn face was bruised and his lip was split, but it didn't make his smile any less radiant. "I'm indestructible, remember?"

Juliet exhaled in a burst of breathless laughter, still stunned. "You sure don't look so indestructible right now," she said shakily.

"What, this?" He waved a hand over his face. "All a front."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. Really, I'm a time-travelling cyborg. I didn't want to endanger you by letting you know."

"I see." She looked down at his hand – it seemed she had been holding it all night. "You could stand to endanger me a little, though. Why didn't you call me last night?"

Shawn tilted his head, looking utterly unfettered. "You know I wanted to put on a show, Jules." He shrugged the shoulder without the broken collarbone. "I think I probably succeeded, you know, what with the massive bleeding and everything."

Juliet shook her head. "Shawn…" Her voice was quiet. "Don't be funny right now, okay?"

Shawn frowned. "Why not?"

"Because it's not funny!" Juliet couldn't help but stare. "How do you not see that? You could have died, Shawn. And maybe that doesn't matter to you, but it does to me."

"I'm okay, Jules. Really."

"But next time you might not be, Shawn, and then what will I do?" Juliet tightened her grip on Shawn's hand. "I thought I would be okay if something happened to you. Sad, heartbroken, but okay. But now… Now I'm not so sure."

Shawn frowned. "It's not like I wanted to get stabbed. I've been doing the best I could. What do you want from me?"

"I want you to call me, Shawn!"

"Why? So you can get hurt?" Shawn struggled in his bed, sitting up as straight as he could. "How do you think I would have felt if you were where I am now? Do you think I would have taken it better than you are?"

"I have training, Shawn!"

"So do I!"

The two glared at each other for a moment, then Juliet sighed. "I do dangerous things every day. It's my job, you know that."

Shawn looked down at their entwined fingers. He didn't answer.

"And, you know," she added, her voice shamelessly coaxing, "if you called me when you were in trouble, then at least you'd be there to protect me. Right?"

Shawn looked up at her. A small smile formed on his face. "Are you trying to manipulate me right now?"

Juliet shrugged. "Maybe a little bit."

"Look at you, being all devious!" Shawn grinned and brought her hand to his lips, kissing the tips of her fingers. "I'm so proud of you."

"Will you promise me?"

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me that next time, you'll call." Juliet knew that Shawn's promises didn't always mean a lot, but she hoped that they would if they were being made to her.

Shawn rolled his eyes, but replied, "I promise."

"And promise me you won't do anything until we get there."

"Jules!"

"Shawn."

"Fine, I promise!"

"And… And promise me…" Juliet bit her lip. She felt childish saying it, and she knew it wasn't something she should ask, knew it was something he could never promise no matter how badly he wanted to, but she needed to hear him say it. "Promise me that you'll never die."

Shawn looked at her, his eyes wide. Juliet was fairly certain that he'd never heard her sound so afraid, but she didn't care. If she couldn't be vulnerable with Shawn, who could she be vulnerable with?

Shawn pulled her toward him. She crawled onto his bed, curling against his unwounded side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I promise, Jules," he said quietly, kissing her forehead gently. "Nothing could ever make me leave you."

Juliet let a smile bloom over her features. She rested her head beside his on the pillow, listening to the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. She shifted, and he winced.

She sat up, concerned. "Sorry, are you in pain?"

Shawn nodded. "Being stabbed hurts a lot more than you'd think. And it's itchy. Was there poison ivy on his knife or something? I don't think it should itch like this." He rubbed at his side, wincing. Juliet slapped his hand away.

"Should I call the nurse?" Juliet asked, keeping a hand over Shawn's bandages to keep him from digging at them. He's like a dog with stitches.

"Like she'll be able to do anything." Shawn wrinkled his nose. Juliet didn't understand his dislike of hospitals, but she stayed quiet. She figured she would call a nurse in when he fell asleep next. "Maybe you could help me."

"I'm not a doctor, Shawn," Juliet said patiently.

"And?"

"And that means I don't know how to help."

"I do." Shawn put on an exaggerated pout and pointed to his legs. "Kiss it better."

Juliet shook her head, but she laughed. What would I do without this weird, childish, wonderful man? she asked herself. "Only if you ask for medicine later."

"Please, Jules! The pain, the pain!" Shawn wailed.

"Will you let the doctors do their jobs?"

"If you kiss me, I will."

"If that's what it takes," Juliet said with a fake sigh of exasperation. She sat up, her lips brushing over each of Shawn's knees, moving up to the bandages masking his stab wound, then pressing as gently as possible against his collarbone. Finally, she planted a sweet kiss on his forehead that she hoped would tell him everything she wanted to say: I'm so happy you're okay. I don't know what I would do without you. You mean the world to me. I love you.

Juliet snuggled back into Shawn's arms. He was okay. At the moment, that was all that mattered.

"Jules."

"Hm?"

"You forgot something."

Juliet looked up, confused. Shawn pointed to his lips. "These are pretty sore, too."

"Oh, you poor thing." She pulled a look of sympathy and leaned into him, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. All of the tension drained from both of their bodies, and as they settled back into the mattress, entangled in each other's arms, Juliet thought that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so content and happy just to be next to someone.

Shawn and Juliet both closed their eyes, each still exhausted from the previous day's events. Just as Juliet drifted off to sleep, she heard Shawn's voice, quiet and soft, in her ear.

"I love you, Juliet."

"I love you too, Shawn."