Fic: "The Hours That Are Passed," [Bonus Chapter], Psych
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When a former partner of Henry's comes under investigation, Shawn will do anything to get assigned to the case. Turns out, he's not interested in helping an old family friend; he's out to protect himself.
Warning: Mentions of child abuse and use of coarse language.
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | [bonus] | chapter nine | chapter ten
[Bonus Chapter]
Carlton hovered outside the dark hospital room, ignoring the young officer standing guard near the door, and strained to see the figure lying on the bed. He hesitated, afraid of what might happen if he entered the room. He knew that Ian was no threat, to himself or anyone else.
However, at the moment, Carlton wasn't so sure about what danger he might present.
"Are you going to come in?" Ian's sleep-husky voice called out. "I'm going to be living under direct watch for at least the next few months. I'd like to enjoy the little privacy I have left."
Carlton stormed in the room, flipping the light on as he did so. "'Months? You think you'll only get months?"
The other man ignored his outburst. "You must be Detective Lassiter. Your reputation precedes you." Ian smirked before wincing in pain. "If you're here to threaten me, it's a little late for that. The shot to the leg you gave me was plenty."
Carlton could see that for himself. Ian's right leg lay on top of his bed sheets with his wound wrapped loosely in gauze. The leg looked deathly pale except for the bright red circle of inflamed skin radiating around his calf. That wasn't his only visible injury. His face was scratched from where he landed on it after taking Carlton's bullet, and his upper arms had been badly bruised from being subdued and handcuffed. Carlton couldn't help the grin of satisfaction he felt curl onto his face.
"You shouldn't have been waving that gun around," he snarked back. "There no way in hell you honestly believe you'll get off with anything less than 25 years for what you did."
"And what exactly did I do, Detective?"
"Don't play dumb," Carlton fumed.
"Then, don't speak to me like I am. I'm not stupid enough to discuss my charges with the detective leading the case." The former cop moved to sit up in his bed, grimacing as his injured leg throbbed in pain. "Especially when it's the same detective that fired his weapon at me."
"It took a lot for me not to kill you," Carlton said curtly. "In fact, the only thing that saved you was your service as an officer."
Ian chuckled before wincing. "Good looking out, Detective."
"I wasn't looking out for you, Ian," Carlton practically growled. "I was looking out for Spencer. Killing you would have only made this harder for him. He still has answers he needs from you."
"Spencer'? I thought you two were on a first-name basis."
Carlton could feel his face burn. "That's none of your business."
The older man studied him for a moment before grinning maliciously. "Does he know, Detective?" he asked, his voice mocking.
"Does who know what?"
"Shawny. Does he know you're in here playing the big, macho cop for his sake?"
"Stop trying to distract me."
"He means something to you."
"Of course. He's my co-worker."
"I think he's more than that. You forget, Detective, that I can read people just as easily as you can. No one else came in here to huff and puff at me. Not even Henry."
"And?"
"And, you were the one Shawny called when he was in trouble. Not his partner or his father. And you don't seem simply disgusted with me like everyone else is. You're angry."
"Don't call him 'Shawny,'" Carlton growled.
"See what I mean? Your hatred is much more personal. You almost act as if I took something of yours."
Carlton didn't reply. He wouldn't give this man more of his words to twist around.
"My Shawny's a good kid, detective, but he's very confused right now. I certainly wouldn't want someone like you sniffing after him."
Carlton chuckled bitterly. "You are so deluded," he muttered. "What makes you think you have any say on who he has in his life?"
"I'll always have some influence over him," Ian said smugly. "I've known him since he was a kid. I've helped him to become the man he is today."
"You're a monster. Once he forgets you, he'll be much happier."
"Are you planning on helping him to forget me? How noble, Detective."
It took all of Carlton's self-control not to plow his fist into Ian's leering face. "We - his family and his friends - will all help him," he began calmly. "But I'm going to go one step further. I'm going to make sure you pay. I'm going to make sure every inmate at whatever hellhole they throw you in knows that you were a cop and that you touched little kids."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I do," Carlton said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm going to make sure they know just how sick you are. And you and I both know how much a reputation matters in prison. I'm going to make sure yours is shredded before you even step foot in the court room."
If Ian was shaken by Carlton's threat, he didn't show it. Instead, he leaned back against his pillows, a smug smile playing about his face.
"I was staring down murderers and psychopaths while you were still toddling around your mama's house," he said softly. "So, Det. Lassiter, please don't be too upset when I tell you your little show here means nothing to me."
It was Carlton's turn to grin. "If you think this is a show, then you don't know me as well as you think." He turned away, loudly kicking a visitor's chair out of his path as he made his way to the door. "Sleep tight, Ian. California's had some major budget cuts since you were last here. This might be your last night on a real mattress for the rest of your life."
Carlton flipped the light off and yanked the door closed behind him.
"Thanks for dropping by, Detective," Ian called out right before the door clicked shut. "Please tell Shawny I'll miss him."
A/N: And so it begins ... or rather ends. I'm posting the final three chapters of the story tonight. \o/ And then I'm doing some major journal housekeeping. LJ has made all my block quotes gray and italicized. This bonus chapter wasn't planned, but it felt necessary. The reason behind Carlton's anger needed to be explained and he needed a space to express it.
Summary: When a former partner of Henry's comes under investigation, Shawn will do anything to get assigned to the case. Turns out, he's not interested in helping an old family friend; he's out to protect himself.
Warning: Mentions of child abuse and use of coarse language.
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | [bonus] | chapter nine | chapter ten
[Bonus Chapter]
Carlton hovered outside the dark hospital room, ignoring the young officer standing guard near the door, and strained to see the figure lying on the bed. He hesitated, afraid of what might happen if he entered the room. He knew that Ian was no threat, to himself or anyone else.
However, at the moment, Carlton wasn't so sure about what danger he might present.
"Are you going to come in?" Ian's sleep-husky voice called out. "I'm going to be living under direct watch for at least the next few months. I'd like to enjoy the little privacy I have left."
Carlton stormed in the room, flipping the light on as he did so. "'Months? You think you'll only get months?"
The other man ignored his outburst. "You must be Detective Lassiter. Your reputation precedes you." Ian smirked before wincing in pain. "If you're here to threaten me, it's a little late for that. The shot to the leg you gave me was plenty."
Carlton could see that for himself. Ian's right leg lay on top of his bed sheets with his wound wrapped loosely in gauze. The leg looked deathly pale except for the bright red circle of inflamed skin radiating around his calf. That wasn't his only visible injury. His face was scratched from where he landed on it after taking Carlton's bullet, and his upper arms had been badly bruised from being subdued and handcuffed. Carlton couldn't help the grin of satisfaction he felt curl onto his face.
"You shouldn't have been waving that gun around," he snarked back. "There no way in hell you honestly believe you'll get off with anything less than 25 years for what you did."
"And what exactly did I do, Detective?"
"Don't play dumb," Carlton fumed.
"Then, don't speak to me like I am. I'm not stupid enough to discuss my charges with the detective leading the case." The former cop moved to sit up in his bed, grimacing as his injured leg throbbed in pain. "Especially when it's the same detective that fired his weapon at me."
"It took a lot for me not to kill you," Carlton said curtly. "In fact, the only thing that saved you was your service as an officer."
Ian chuckled before wincing. "Good looking out, Detective."
"I wasn't looking out for you, Ian," Carlton practically growled. "I was looking out for Spencer. Killing you would have only made this harder for him. He still has answers he needs from you."
"Spencer'? I thought you two were on a first-name basis."
Carlton could feel his face burn. "That's none of your business."
The older man studied him for a moment before grinning maliciously. "Does he know, Detective?" he asked, his voice mocking.
"Does who know what?"
"Shawny. Does he know you're in here playing the big, macho cop for his sake?"
"Stop trying to distract me."
"He means something to you."
"Of course. He's my co-worker."
"I think he's more than that. You forget, Detective, that I can read people just as easily as you can. No one else came in here to huff and puff at me. Not even Henry."
"And?"
"And, you were the one Shawny called when he was in trouble. Not his partner or his father. And you don't seem simply disgusted with me like everyone else is. You're angry."
"Don't call him 'Shawny,'" Carlton growled.
"See what I mean? Your hatred is much more personal. You almost act as if I took something of yours."
Carlton didn't reply. He wouldn't give this man more of his words to twist around.
"My Shawny's a good kid, detective, but he's very confused right now. I certainly wouldn't want someone like you sniffing after him."
Carlton chuckled bitterly. "You are so deluded," he muttered. "What makes you think you have any say on who he has in his life?"
"I'll always have some influence over him," Ian said smugly. "I've known him since he was a kid. I've helped him to become the man he is today."
"You're a monster. Once he forgets you, he'll be much happier."
"Are you planning on helping him to forget me? How noble, Detective."
It took all of Carlton's self-control not to plow his fist into Ian's leering face. "We - his family and his friends - will all help him," he began calmly. "But I'm going to go one step further. I'm going to make sure you pay. I'm going to make sure every inmate at whatever hellhole they throw you in knows that you were a cop and that you touched little kids."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I do," Carlton said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm going to make sure they know just how sick you are. And you and I both know how much a reputation matters in prison. I'm going to make sure yours is shredded before you even step foot in the court room."
If Ian was shaken by Carlton's threat, he didn't show it. Instead, he leaned back against his pillows, a smug smile playing about his face.
"I was staring down murderers and psychopaths while you were still toddling around your mama's house," he said softly. "So, Det. Lassiter, please don't be too upset when I tell you your little show here means nothing to me."
It was Carlton's turn to grin. "If you think this is a show, then you don't know me as well as you think." He turned away, loudly kicking a visitor's chair out of his path as he made his way to the door. "Sleep tight, Ian. California's had some major budget cuts since you were last here. This might be your last night on a real mattress for the rest of your life."
Carlton flipped the light off and yanked the door closed behind him.
"Thanks for dropping by, Detective," Ian called out right before the door clicked shut. "Please tell Shawny I'll miss him."
A/N: And so it begins ... or rather ends. I'm posting the final three chapters of the story tonight. \o/ And then I'm doing some major journal housekeeping. LJ has made all my block quotes gray and italicized. This bonus chapter wasn't planned, but it felt necessary. The reason behind Carlton's anger needed to be explained and he needed a space to express it.