A hundred days have made me older,
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face...
A thousand lies have made me colder,
And I don't think I can look at this the same.
But all the miles that separate,
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face!

I'm here without you, baby!
But you're still on my lonely mind...
I think about you, baby,
And I dream about you all the time!
I'm here without you, baby,
But you're still with me in my dreams.
And tonight it's only you and me...

3 Doors Down:- Here Without You


~They flank me- Depression on my right and loneliness on my left. They don't need to show their badges. I know these guys very well.~

~Elizabeth Gilbert: Eat, Pray, Love~


"Juliet, for Gods sake will you please just relax and have a little fun! You're worse than my grandma! Your dad is never going to find out about tonight, we promise. My mom has everything covered! Although when I say 'mom' I mean Rachel, our maid of course," Sarah giggled loudly, grasping the arm of Juliet O'Hara and yanking her forward with it, even closer to the big double doors. She didn't bother resisting, knowing she'd get an earful if she did.

None of their reassurances appeased her at all.

Not a single one.

How many times had she heard that same sentences from the lips of her friends already tonight? She'd honestly lost count. The cold night air bit at her exposed skin mercilessly and not for the first or last time that evening, she wished she'd managed to grab a sweater or jacket from her room before her friends had turned up and tipped her night upside down. It was mid-January, nine o'clock at night and the chill in the air was bitter.

After all, New York wasn't known for it's toasty warm winters and this one had been more brutal than most. Patches of thick, white snow still lay on the ground here and there and the wind coming in from the coast made the air around them icy and chilled. The sidewalk was deadly with frost and patches of black ice, especially for someone with heels on.

Not the best night for the impromptu trip to insanity her friends were currently leading her on.

For what seemed like the thousandth time that evening she wondered quietly to herself what on earth she'd been thinking coming out to this club. She didn't even like clubs. The thumping music and the sleazy men who sidled up to them, thinking they were twenty one and sometimes not even caring that they weren't. The floors were always sticky with God-knows-what and the tables were no better. The line she was currently standing in was out of the door and around the side of the building, the bouncer looked like he'd just been released from prison and if her father ever found out that she was here, she wouldn't see the light of day for the next six months. She may have been nineteen years old, but to her dad she was still the ten year old little girl who had once stolen a glass of his single malt scotch and spent the next eight hours throwing up because of it.

She was still his baby and still treated as such, much to her annoyance. Don't get her wrong, she loved her dad with all of her heart. She loved her mother and her little brothers. They were good people. Honest people. But damn it, she was turning twenty in a months time and he still insisted that she be home by eleven on weeknights. She was about to start a degree, for God's sake. His heart was in the right place but she knew he was still clinging to the image of her in pretty pink dresses and hoping that one day she would ask to come to work with him like she had when she'd been a child.

Although, he'd still been happy about her degree when she'd told him. That was one aspect of their relationship he could agree with her on. he wanted the best education for her and he knew she was smart enough to achieve it.

Safe to say he was thrilled that his little Juliet was getting into University. She'd never seen him quite as proud as the moment when she'd gotten her acceptance letter in the mail. He'd even insisted on her drinking a glass of champagne when any other time he would be aghast at the thought of her drinking alcohol.

In spite of herself, she smiled at the thought of that day and seeing the unabashed pride that radiated from her parents. Even her younger brothers had ceased from making her life hell for a day when she'd told them about it. That was saying something.

"That's the spirit, Julie!" Carla hooked her arm through hers and Juliet snapped out of her thoughts in surprise.

"Hmm?"

Her friend's face fell as quickly as it had brightened. "False alarm, Sarah. I thought she was getting into the spirit but she was just drifting off into her little dream world again," Carla let go and Juliet scowled at their backs, contemplating slipping away and calling a cab to come and pick her up. She had to be up by ten thirty in the morning and if she was late for class, Mr. Lucas would have her head on a platter. He was her dance instructor and an over-zealous one at that, with his odd taste in music and his even worse taste in outfits. Thankfully, her outfits were chosen by another teacher and not him. She didn't think she could dance in something that sported a train like a peacock's feathers.

She tugged at her short dress again, absentmindedly. It was one of Sarah's and it didn't really leave very much to the imagination but the red-head had been insistent that she at least try it on and when it had fit perfectly, they hadn't let her take it off again. She didn't like it at all and she was used to tight fitting clothes. At least her dance costumes were tasteful though. She had a horrible feeling that if she bent over too far in this black monstrosity that she would flash someone and she really didn't need that happening as well tonight.

The trio slipped past the convicted felon of a security guard with relative ease, their make up and dresses making them look at least twenty one. Juliet made sure to avoid eye contact with him because he'd narrowed his eyes in their direction once or twice and it made her nervous.

She expected to feel horribly exposed in this place but the inside of the club wasn't nearly as bad as she'd imagined. It was full of little round tables and chairs that all seemed clean enough and she relaxed when she realized that the floor wasn't sticky at all and there was a pleasant smell of cologne and perfume in the air. Not bad at all. Halfway across the room, the floor raised into a platform with a railing and a little metal staircase that led up to it. She assumed it was the dance floor, seeing as the stage was taking pride of place right in the middle of the back wall. The band were playing something low key and much to her delight and it was the hum of the crowd that made most of the noise.

She might not wake up with white noise in her ears tomorrow after all. Letting herself smile, she followed Carla and Sarah to the bar located to their left. The whole place had a distinctly rock feeling about it, she mused as she surveyed the walls. A signed picture of Jimi Hendrix was hanging above the bar in pride of place and everything else was seemingly arranged around it. Guitars, both acoustic and electric were everywhere, with photos and signed shirts and posters. They seemed to have something signed by everyone from Bowling For Soup to AC/DC and it took her a while before she could tear herself away from the interesting walls.

Carla was not so impressed, much to Juliet's distaste. "Anymore on the walls and they could be a TGI Fridays," she'd scoffed, before blushing when the bartender had cleared his throat and sent an annoyed look her way. Juliet was glad. This place had a pleasant, friendly vibe about it and despite her impressions from the outside, she quite liked it.

A drink was shoved into her hand and when she took a tentative sip, she wrinkled her nose and the alcohol burned her throat. Maybe she should just stay on this one for the rest of the night. It would take her that long to drink it. They found a table easily enough, squeezing through bodies and excusing themselves more times that they could count. Eventually they turned their attentions to the band on stage.

"Damn, God was having a good day when he made them," Sarah muttered, eyeing the men on stage. Juliet had to admit that she was right. They were all very good looking guys, but while Carla and Sarah 'ooh'ed' and 'ahh'ed' over the lead singer and the guitar players, Juliet looked further back on the stage. Her own guilty little pleasure had always been the drummer of a band. Put Eddie Van Halen in front of her and she'd be impressed, sure, but she wouldn't go nuts.

However, put someone like Rick Allen from Def Leppard in front of her and she'd be starstruck and head over heels for him. So her gaze roamed the stage and fell easily onto the drummer at the back. Sure enough, much like the rest of the men on stage, he was very attractive at first glance. But Juliet didn't just glance. No, she kept her eyes on him for three whole songs and everything from the way the muscles in his arms flexed to the way he mouthed the words of the songs that he knew off by heart made her want to put him in her drummer hall of fame.

Much to her disappointment, the band finished shortly afterward and her handsome drummer quickly packed up his stuff and vanished backstage with the other guys. Juliet pouted sadly. Now what was she supposed to do? The next singer on was a woman and while she was pretty and all that, Juliet didn't swing that way and the other men in the room did nothing for her after watching muscular arms masterfully play the drums.

She couldn't even bring herself to curse her little addiction. What harm did it do? She got to ogle a perfectly gorgeous man all night with no consequences, Win-win.

All of the girls had had plenty of offers from eager men in the last hour and a half though. Enough to last Juliet a lifetime if she was honest. She really wasn't interested. She'd been asked to dance several times but had she said yes, she might have missed out on her drummer boy. So she'd politely declined and sent them all packing and miserable.

Carla however, had danced with a few and Sarah had taken up only one offer, telling Juliet that she'd really liked him but she'd later seen him dancing with several other women. It was common knowledge that Sarah didn't share and she didn't take kindly to it. That had been the end of that.

The room had filled up very quickly since they'd arrived and eventually, they couldn't even see the stage anymore. So they went back to talking instead and Juliet found that she was quite enjoying the night if she was honest. Carla and Sarah had relaxed and as a result so had she. Which is why, of course, everything had to go wrong. It was who Carla left them first, telling them that she was just running to the ladies and then vanishing from sight for forty-five minutes. When didn't come back, Juliet went looking and finally spotted her after worried searching. She was- much to her friends chagrin- sitting in the lap of some guy in the corner, cooing over him and letting his hand slide dangerously high along her thigh.

She didn't bother trying to attract her attention away from him.

When Juliet finally made it back to the table to tell Sarah about Carla's whereabouts, Sarah was grabbing her coat and her bag and clutching the arm of a guy who looked as though he'd been a high school football player. Had been being the operative words. He had to be at least thirty and she was immediately on edge.

"Where are you going!?" Juliet asked in alarm and Sarah motioned towards the guy with a 'duh' look on her face.

"Julie, this is Greg. He invited me backstage! Isn't that exciting!?" she bounced on the balls of her feet, but Juliet was distinctly unimpressed- noting a few other girls sticking close by to Greg. He was clearly scouting out pretty girls to take backstage for the guys. Juliet wasn't an idiot by any means. He would probably go around and tell these lovely women that they'd been chosen to come back stage for some private party. Which was code for- to be used as a sexual item at the bands disposal and wake up the next morning feeling awful- in her book.

She should have guessed. He was far too old to be hitting on a young thing like Sarah and she contemplated telling him that she was only nineteen like herself and not in fact twenty one.

Greg clearly misread to the look of disgust on her face as that of disappointment instead. "Say, you're just what we're looking for too. How about it? Get some pictures taken with the band, have a few drinks maybe?" Juliet scowled in his direction as the lies continued to spill from his lips.

A few of the girls he had with him were already smashed enough to believe anything he said, but not her.

"Oh please," she scoffed. "Why don't you just tell these girls the truth? You're all going backstage because the band members are horny and had to send this idiot to troll on drunken women for them. What a crock," she shook her head and grabbed her jacket, the night taking a sudden sour turn. She wanted to get as far away from this man as possible.

"Look, sweetheart, it's nothing like that at all. Just a few photos and signatures," he grabbed her wrist and her whole body seemed to freeze. This wasn't just sour. This was sinister. She tried to pull away but his grip was tight. It didn't stop her from talking back though and his big red face seemed to contort with anger and annoyance with every word.

"You think just becase these girls and drunk and pretty that they'll want to sleep with the members of the band? You're stupider than you look," she fumed, and she would have gone further had someone not interrupted her. He strolled past, smirking in her direction and her throat went a little dry when she realized it was the same drummer she'd been ogling for a lot of the night.

"Wow Greg, she has you all figured out. She's right too. You are stupider than you look," he winked at her. She didn't say anything as he went back to talking to Greg like he was a three year old. "How about you let the lady go and I won't accidentally punch you in the throat? That would be really unfortunate..." he cocked his head to the side, his tone never wavering from friendly and Greg did as he was told almost straight away. Juliet yanked her hand back with a glare, rubbing her sore wrist and looking as though she was about to throw a punch at his stupid face.

"Good! That's much more pleasant, now isn't it? Now, be a good lackey, leave these girls alone and go tell those stupid fucks backstage that if they want a girl for the night to come and chat one up themselves. If I see any of you rounding up women again for some fake as fuck party, I'll have you out of here so fast you won't even see my boot kicking your stupid ass," he ground out.

While at first it seemed like Greg was going to argue with him because the drummer wasn't nearly as tall as him, he merely grunted out a few choice swear words. "Go fuck yourself, Spencer. They won't be happy when I tell them you ruined their get together." Juliet was oddly surprised when he backed down so quickly.

He however, seemed completely unfazed by the threat. "Well then, you can tell them to kiss my ass, can't you? Run along," he jerked his head towards the stage. Greg sent one last wistful look at some of the more drunk girls before stomping off through the crowd, pushing people out of the way as he went. Juliet watched him go, satisfied that he'd had a thorough telling off before turning to thank their rescuer. Much to her surprise he was halfway through the crowd and heading towards the bar and she had to run to keep up with his long strides.

She motioned for Sarah to stay and followed him.

It was useless calling out to him because of the ruckus and the conversation, but eventually she pushed her way through the throng and made it to the bar stool he was now perched upon. "Hey!" she said, clearly exasperated and a little sad that he was wearing a jacket now and his arms were out of view. For the first time when he turned to her, she noticed his eyebrow piercing and the fact that he had more studs in his ears that she did. He's all stubble and black clothes and if she was honest, had he not just stepped in back there and proven himself to be a nice guy, he'd have been one of those big, scary looking tough guys that she avoided on the streets at night.

"Yeah?" he asked, mild surprise lacing his voice and Juliet swallowed again to try and find her voice when those lovely green eyes fell onto her face. She was annoyingly flustered and she fought to right herself. She was not a child for God's sake!

"Thank you, for what you did back there," she finally got her words out and he seemed oddly confused at her praise.

"You're welcome, I guess."

Well, clearly he was a man of few words and she didn't know why, but she liked it. Very much so. He narrowed his gaze at her when she smiled brightly at him and her smile faltered somewhat. "How on earth did you get past big Frank?" he finally asked after a few seconds of eyeing her over. She frowned. Who the hell was Big Frank- "He's the security guard at the front door," he added, sensing her confusion. Juliet gulped a little, suddenly nervous.

"What do you mean? I'm twenty-one..." she trailed off when his eyebrow rose in amusement and much to her frustration she felt heat rise in her cheeks and give her embarrassment away. She cursed just how easily she blushed around a cute guy.

"No, you're not."

"Well, I'm almost twenty-one," she countered in a snarky voice, annoyance coursing through her. Just who did he think he was, talking to her like she was some child to be contradicted? If he hadn't been as handsome as he was or hadn't come to rescue like he had, she would have torn him a new one. She may have been a bit young but it didn't mean she had to be handled with such care.

"Almost, being?" he swirled the beer in his bottle from side to side, watching her reactions from the corner of his eye in a somewhat droll amusement.

"I'm twenty in a month," she ground out, pissed off and suddenly extremely mortified that he'd seen through her whole charade as easily as one could see through glass. How had he even done it? She looked twenty-one and she knew it! The amount of men who had hit on her tonight had been proof of that and so was the fact that she'd even gotten through the door in the first place. He gave an easy smirk that both drove her mad and caused a strange reaction in the top of her thighs.

"So, nineteen then," he answered. She scowled at him and his lips quirked. "I don't mean anything by it," he explained. "Just curious and concerned. Should you really be over here on your own, talking to me? Don't nineteen year old girls have more important things to do than hang out in bars at night?" He signaled the bartender for another beer and added a glass of water to his order as well, motioning for her to sit on the stool next to him. She took the seat, still annoyed and embarrassed.

"It wasn't my idea," she eventually said, sullen and resting her chin in her palm. "My friends wanted to go out and I couldn't say no to them. As for me talking to you, I don't see why not. You just saved a bunch of women from making a huge mistake, so there has to be something nice under all the tattoos and piercings," she shrugged and he seemed oddly impressed. "Besides, you can't be that much older than me," she added.

"I'm twenty three," he nodded and Juliet seemed surprised. He looked younger than that. But then again a four year age gap meant nothing in her eyes. She really was twenty in a month, so technically it was only a three year age gap... Wait, why was she thinking of age gaps with a man she'd met only ten minutes ago? She shook herself, feeling a little silly. When he turned away to take their drinks from the bar man, Juliet examined him a little closer.

He did look younger, but not by much. His jacket didn't cover his hands and she could see scars here and there that must have come from who knows how many fights and scuffles in the past. He was well built though and she could guess that he'd probably won most of them. Maybe that's why Greg was reluctant to start a fight with him over the fate of those women. She took the glass of water that was offered to her, glad of it after a night spent drinking stronger stuff.

"You know," he finally spoke again and she looked up at him. "Those are some pretty lousy friends you have there. I mean, they just hauled you into trouble like that and I know it looks like a decent place, but believe me, it's not. We've had to hire security for the women's bathrooms and we've caught at least three guys spiking drinks in the last two months."

When he mentioned spiking drinks, she eyed her water, suddenly feeling very stupid for accepting it. He chuckled humorlessly when he noticed.

"See what I mean? There's a reason I asked you your age. It's easy to act mature, but you just took a drink off of me and who knows what I could have done to it and your friends are too busy off gyrating on the laps of these idiots to notice if you were okay or not. So," he took her water from her and took a mouthful before giving it back to her. He swallowed easily. "Your drink is fine. My name is Shawn, for future reference and if you need any assistance getting home or if you have any more trouble with guys, you tell big Frank at the door that you're a friend of mine and he'll make sure you're okay."

Juliet really didn't know what to say. She felt like such an idiot for not thinking before she acted. Shawn was about to hop off of the bar stool when she grabbed his arm. "Wait!" he turned in surprise at her shout. "Will you stay and have a drink with me?" she pointed to her water glass and he raised an eyebrow. "Come on, what's the worst that could happen? You've already proven you're a nice guy and it couldn't hurt, could it?"

Shawn seemed to mull it over for a second, before he finally sat back down. "Okay then, blondie, you're on. But, you can't bail on me halfway through the night."

"It's a deal. I'm Juliet."

"Juliet, then." He clinked his bottle with her glass, nodding at her and taking another short sip. She smiled back at him, thinking his half surly, half curious expression oddly attractive. A tiny part of her wanted to start asking a lot of questions right away, like she usually did with new and interesting people.

But she had a feeling that wouldn't go down well with him.

For the next two hours, Shawn proved to her that he while he was indeed the strong silent type he was also really interesting. Although he asked questions now and again, he preferred to listen to her answers more than answer anything himself. What she could glean from talking to him though, was that he'd left home at eighteen and for the last five years he'd been living in the apartment above the bar and earning his money by playing for the band.

She didn't know why exactly but he seemed almost wary of her attention, like he wasn't used to getting it. She found that hard to believe. He may not have partaken in the rest of his band mates activities but that couldn't mean that he didn't have women after him all the time. Still... the way he reacted to her was almost shy. He didn't maintain eye contact for long periods of time and he kept running his fingers through his hair and fiddling with things on the bar. It was adorable.

He was a tough, good looking guy who was clearly shy around women and that thought was just so attractive to her.

The longer Juliet stayed next to him and talked to him, the more attractive he became and it wasn't just the whole bad boy persona that was doing it for her either. It was the fact that he was actually looking after her and looking out for her. He hadn't let anyone near her all night and he made sure her drinks were always in sight because apparently she was just what people who spiked drinks looked for in a woman. Innocent looking, sweet and blond. He informed her that they particularly liked blond women. As well as that...

He hadn't hit on her once. No sly grins or stupid chat up lines. He didn't touch her without her permission and he didn't let his eyes linger on her legs for too long and she felt respected. Not a lot of guys would save a girl and expect nothing in return or see how short this stupid dress was and not check her out whenever possible. But he didn't. He was a gentleman even though he didn't look like one.

"So, Juliet..." he finally spoke up at one point and she seemed surprised that he'd been the one to speak but she welcomed it all the same. His voice was warm and deep, almost a purr in his chest and it heated her bones and her stomach. "What do you do with yourself when you aren't sneaking into bars?" he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes still not finding hers. She grinned all the same, thrilled to have him joining in on the conversation.

"I'm working towards a degree at the minute. Well, I'm about to start working for it anyway..." she'd watched as his face fell and his cheeks flushed red. He still couldn't meet her eye as he talked again, almost sadly.

"I guess you're pretty smart then, huh?"

She shrugged, honestly. Confusion shone in her eyes at his response to her being at University. Usually people weren't bothered. There were thousands of University graduates every year and surely he'd considered it at one point? Someone as clever as he was didn't go through life without a good education. He could have gone anywhere if he hadn't left home. After his reaction to her studies, the night wound down pretty quickly around them and Juliet found herself with less time with him that she'd have liked.

The night had passed so soon.

True to his word though, Shawn saw her safely outside and toward the line of cabs waiting for fares. Sarah and Carla had long since abandoned her but she didn't mind. She had company after all. She stood next to the car and his eyes finally seemed to meet her. Warmth trickled through her body when they did. "Thanks for taking care of me tonight Shawn. It was really decent of you," she smiled, brushing hair from her face as her cheeks turned red.

He shrugged off her compliment, smirking. "No problem Juliet. Anything for a pretty face." His cocky attitude was back in place but she didn't mind.

Instead, she kissed him.

He almost jumped in surprise when her hand had balled into a fist in the front of his shirt and her mouth had pressed against his, but he didn't have time to do much else because she was pulling away again, her face blazing even in the cold air. He licked his lips and they stared at each other almost in shock. He dipped in again and found her bottom lip with his, sucking on it lightly. She returned the motion eagerly, moaning into his mouth softly. She pulled away and smiled at him and with that, she whispered goodbye and was in the cab. He waved her off somewhat numbly, eyes still wide and his mouth still tasting of her.

Juliet waved back from the rear window, wondering why she'd suddenly become so brazen and wishing she didn't have to leave him standing alone on the sidewalk.


Shawn dug his boot into the ground, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. His breath fogged in front of him in the cold night air. Jesus H. Christ. What had just happened to him tonight? One minute everything had been perfectly normal and the next he'd been deep in conversation with this smart, beautiful nineteen year old who actually seemed to like him.

"Like you? You? Give me a break, Spencer. Nobody likes you. Even your own mother didn't want you. A woman like that is way out of your league. She's too good for you and she knows it. You won't see her again, so just get that thought out of your stupid head."

The sing-song voice that cut through his head was vicious and grating and sounded an awful lot like his step-father. He tried his best to drown the voice out as he turned to go back to the club. He sang songs in his head, trying not to listen but failing miserably. He bid the cleaners a quick goodnight in the bar and sang out loud instead as he climbed the long stairs to his apartment. He needed to drown that voice out. He needed to stop listening before he did something he regretted.

"You never regret it and you can't stop. How pathetic," it hissed mockingly in his ear and he groaned, kicking his front door shut behind him and throwing his keys violently onto the side table.

Even as he tore his jacket off and twisted the cap from the bottle of scotch he kept near his bed, it still crawled in his skull, biting and sharp and saying words to him he didn't want to hear or believe. He scratched at his arm roughly, fingers finding the familiar bumps and faded scars that sometimes brought him comfort in the night. They were his battle scars to remind him of everything he'd ever survived in his so far short, miserable little life. He'd still survived them though and usually that thought comforted him long enough to get him through to the day light, where the shadows and whispers couldn't reach him as easily and were better drowned out.

Ghosting over them did nothing tonight.

Why did she have to kiss him? Why did she have to give him a shred of hope like that? He'd coped somehow, managed to push away any feelings after she'd told him about her degree. He'd distanced himself from her a bit and he thought it had worked until those luscious soft lips had brushed his and brought it all crashing down. He'd tried so hard not to let her in but she'd been persistent and charming and funny. He hadn't stood a chance when she'd pulled him close.

"You'd never be good enough for her. You're useless Spencer and useless, worthless things like you don't get to stand in the light with people like her," the voice, his own personal shadow and running fucking commentator piped in tauntingly. "Did you really think she wanted you? She probably felt sorry for you..."

"She liked me," he spoke aloud in the darkness of his room, defying the voice for once and fisting a hand in his hair. "She fucking liked me, I know she did. Why else would she kiss me like that?" he wondered, dipping his head and clenching his eyes shut as he continued the nightly battle with his demons.

"Is the dog biting back tonight? You're weak Spencer and don't you ever forget that. Do it. Do it, you know you want to. It'll burn and you'll enjoy it. Make me go away. I dare you!" The bottle of scotch shattered against the wall as the voice became unbearably loud and he screamed, clutching his head in vain before stumbling into the bathroom down the hall. He collapsed against the counter, breathing ragged and shallow. "Do it! DO IT! Make me go away!" Louder and louder it squawked and urged him and he scattered the contents of his cabinet everywhere, looking for his relief. His fingers closed over the cold steel and he snatched it up with a heaving sigh of regret.

The very second that the fist drop of blood oozed from his forearm, he was whimpering in relief as the tension left his body. The blade bit deep and it stung but he kept his focus on it and on the pain.

By the time he was done, sitting on the edge of his bath tub and panting slowly, all was silent in his head again.

He threw the blade into the sink and wrapped his arms with a nearby cloth, not even wincing as the material scratched the new cuts. The pain was almost comforting. It reminded him that he was real and that the voice in his head was nothing more than that. A voice. He trudged back to bed, now wishing he hadn't broken the bottle against the wall because it was the last he had and he could have used another drink.

He fell into a fitful sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow; one filled with pretty eyes and soft, warm lips that he would never see again.


A/N: Shawn, my baby! Oh God, this hurt me to write it because it's Shawn and he's always so happy and- and... Well yeah, this is that story that I was writing way back. People seemed to like the idea of a BadBoy!Shawn and him being gentle with Juliet so I changed a lot of this story to accommodate that. (See? I do listen sometimes!) So yes, this Shawn has a whole pantheon of demons and problems to battle with along with something else he's hiding. So if you're into Shawn whump and caring Juliet then this story will be for you.

It might get a little darker but not by much, so you shouldn't have to worry too much if you don't like this kind of thing.

Three questions you should ask. What's the deal with Shawn's childhood? What is up with his horror at Juliet going to University? And lastly, will there be smut?

I can answer the last one with another question. Am I Fear-The-Spork, the dirty minded reprobate? Yes. Yes I am.

Reviews are like voices in your head. They rattle your cage and make you question yourself beyond belief; but only the bad ones.