Epilogue:

Shawn sat in the patio of his and Gus' favorite lunchtime restaurant. The time spent at the hospital the night before had been long and boring but even still, he hadn't had much of a chance to rest while he'd waited. Gus had insisted on staying with him until the doctors told him he could go home. His excuse had been that he wanted to keep Shawn company while they waited for the results and the corresponding treatment but Shawn knew there was also a bit of guilt in there as well as wanting to make sure the doctor's orders were both heard and followed. So, it had been almost three in the morning before Gus had dropped Shawn off at his apartment then gone home to sleep and the both of them were just now starting their day.

His phone rang, drawing his attention from the passersby to the device on the table. He grabbed it, expecting it to be a text from Gus but groaned when his dad's number flashed on the screen. He had been waiting for this call ever since Gus had told him that he had called his dad. Shawn was actually surprised Henry had waited this long.

"Hello," Shawn answered after heaving a heavy sigh.

"Hello Shawn," his dad answered sounding every bit like the Cheshire Cat. "How are you?"

Shawn hung his head back, giving the impression that he was staring at the cloudless sky rather than trying to hit his head against an imaginary wall. "I'm good dad, how are you?"

"I'm good as well. Say, Shawn, I was wondering what time you would be around tomorrow to help with the house?"

Really? Shawn exclaimed in his head. It's gonna be like that? He raised his head to stare straight ahead of him, looking at no one in particular as he unfocused his gaze to allow himself to concentrate on the conversation with his father. "What do you say we cut the crap and the small talk huh?" he asked. "I know that Gus called you and told you that I wouldn't be able to come by for any manual labor for the next few weeks so what is it that you want?"

"Why didn't you call me and tell me you'd been injured worse? Or at all for that fact?"

"Because the first time I got hurt, it wasn't that big of a deal; I was fine." Shawn heard his father mumble something about him having to limp around and wear a brace but he ignored it. A little knee pain and a slight limp was nothing in his book. "The second time," he continued raising his voice ever so slightly to capture his father's attention, "I didn't call you because Gus did. He didn't give me time to call you."

"Would you have called me if he hadn't?" his dad countered easily.

"What are you talking about? Of course I would have!" Shawn answered though there was so much sarcasm in his voice it was obviously a lie.

"Uh-huh. Look Shawn, I realize that we don't have the best relationship out there but I do want to know if you've been injured." The words 'Got it?' were left unspoken though there was no doubt of them in Henry's voice.

Shawn was confused by this rare show of emotion from his father but for the sake of peace he didn't comment on it. Instead he sighed in defeat, the act more faked than real, and said, "Yeah dad, I got it."

"Good," Henry said and Shawn could practically hear him nod through the phone in satisfaction. "Now, how bad are ya hurt?'

Shawn rolled his eyes. He should have seen this question coming from thirty miles away. Of course his dad would ask him that! Because then both he and Gus could make sure that Shawn actually followed the doctor's orders and did as he was told. If he'd had a desk he would have hit his head on it in frustration; instead he settled for smacking his forehead.

"The doc said that it was a bad sprain," he conceded grumpily. "I was told to stay off it for a few weeks then I could start bearing weight as pain allows."

"Okay, I'll see you in a few weeks then," his father said then hung up.

Shawn groaned and leaned his head back once again. Sometimes he wished he had an invisible wall behind him so that he could slam his head against it whenever he had to talk to his father; it really would make things easier.

"Was that your dad?" Gus asked, interrupting his frustrated groan. Shawn raised his head to look at his friend. Gus was, of course, dressed in freshly pressed clothes and looking very much like the prep-guy he was. Though he and Gus often teased Lassie about his inability to wear casual clothes, Gus was just as bad. Sure, the pharmaceutical salesman didn't wear three piece suits and ties when he wasn't at work but his ironed polo and khaki Dockers were almost just as bad.

"Yep," Shawn answered as Gus sat down in a chair across the table from him. The waitress had sat them at a table for four and though he did know the reason for it, he pretended no to. He did however take the chair opposite the one he normally took so that he could keep his braced leg out of view of onlookers and out of the way of traffic. To the right of his seat was the wall that separated the main restaurant from the patio and for once he was glad for the illusion of privacy it provided.

Gus awkwardly leaned to look under the table the sat back with scolding look on his face. "Didn't Doctor Cole say to keep your knee elevated?"

"I don't remember hearing that?" Shawn replied all too innocently. Gus just stared at him making him try a different approach. "The chair isn't cushiony enough and it makes my knee hurt," he whined pathetically.

Instead of earning him some sympathy from his friend, Gus proceeded to roll his eyes. "I thought you might say that," he answered cryptically before he pulled off his coat which, Shawn mentally noted, he didn't really need to be wearing and began to neatly fold it up until it made a decent enough cushion. He placed the jacket on top of the chair then stared at Shawn, daring him to make another argument.

Knowing he was had, Shawn stiffly lifted his leg onto the proffered chair, wincing when the lack of support by his calf forced his injured knee to bend a little more than it liked. He inwardly laughed and outwardly rolled his eyes when Gus got out of his chair and scooted it under Shawn's lower leg then grabbed the empty chair to Shawn's left and sat in it, still sitting directly across the table all the while.

Much as he didn't want to, Shawn had to admit that the elevation and additional support felt good. He closed his eyes in relief from the pain he hadn't even known he'd been feeling and simply enjoyed it for a moment. When he opened his eyes, Gus was watching him with a small smile on his face.

Shawn had grown up with the understanding that men did not talk about their emotions and so simply allowed his gratitude to shine brightly in his green eyes then gave his friend a nod of thanks. Gus returned his nod as if to say, "You're welcome", and the smile on his face grew.

"You two ready to order?" their waitress asked, interrupting the serene and touching moment.

"Yes, I will have the fajitas with no onions and a glass of water please," Gus politely ordered.

"Dude, fajitas? You haven't even had breakfast yet! Get something breakfasty."

"It's one thirty Shawn," Gus retorted as though that actually mattered.

"So?" Shawn challenged playfully. He turned towards the waitress whom had been standing off to the side, listening to the conversation with a smile on her face and laughter in her eyes. "Excuse my partner, Senor Pantalones Ajustados, he doesn't know when to let loose. I'll have the Breakfast Burrito with salsa on the side with water to drink as well."

The waitress laughed and said, "You got it." She grabbed their menus and left to place their orders.

Shawn turned his attention from the retreating form of their waitress to Gus, rolling his eyes when he noticed Gus practically glaring at him. "What?"

"Senor Pantalones Ajustados, Shawn? Really? I am not uptight and how is a breakfast burrito different from fajitas?"

"Well for one it's a completely different name," Shawn answered smartly. "And for two it says that it's breakfast in the name – Breakfast Burrito. There's eggs and stuff inside not meat and vegetables."

Gus tolerantly rolled his eyes. He knew they would never agree on the subject so he simply let it drop. The meal was spent with Shawn planning out every thing he was not going to do thanks to the doctor's orders in between mouthfuls of tortilla, eggs, potatoes and other stuff. There were a few times when he got quiet as the pain in his leg made an appearance but each time he would look up and see Gus staring intently at him. He appreciated the concern he saw in his friend's eyes but it also made him uncomfortable. So he would continue with his light-hearted chatter, each smile and laugh he wrenched from his friend making him relax that much more in return.

When their plates were cleared and the check had been dropped, Shawn pulled out his wallet, surprising Gus. Normally Shawn was more than okay with letting someone else pay, it wasn't like he had a steady job like Gus did or a retirement fund like his dad after all. But he felt like he owed Gus this. It hadn't been necessary for him to stick by Shawn while he was in the ER and because he had, Gus more than likely had to take a half day off work – something that Gus did not like doing.

Gus stared at him, mouth unattractively open, for a good two minutes until he seemed to come to himself again. "Thanks Shawn," he said with much more gratitude in his voice than was normally called for. Shawn looked up to discover that he was being thanked for far more than covering a bill; he was being thanked for the very act that got them to this point in the first place. Gus was thanking him for being his best friend.

"I should be thanking you," Shawn answered, fully prepared to put a joke at the end of the sentence. Instead he was interrupted by Gus who got to his feet and straightened his clothes.

"You are more than welcome to do that later. Right now, I have to get to my three o'clock appointment." His eyes narrowed for a minute, taking in Shawn's general disposition then added, "Do you need some money for a cab?"

"No, buddy, thanks but I got it."

"Are you sure?" Gus checked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Go meet Doctor whoever."

"Alright. I'll see you tonight for the screening of Sixteen Candles, right?"

"Of course," Shawn answered in a 'Duh' tone.

Satisfied, Gus nodded and walked away. It wasn't until he was driving away that Shawn remembered he had Gus' coat. He shrugged off the mishap; he'd just give it back tonight when they met up at the Psych office.

Though neither of them had expressed their reasons for thanking the other, they hadn't needed to. Each one did what each one needed to do because that's what best friends did for one another; they support and look out for you even when you don't think you need it. Thanks is rarely needed or expressed because that's what friends are for.

~fin~

And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed reading it, I certainly liked reading it. :) I am in the beginning stages of writing another Psych story, this time with an OC as a love interest for Shawn! I'm not sure when I'll post it but be on the look out because it will be soon. ;)