Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Okay, seriously, what is up with your shoulder?” Gus asked firmly.

Shawn glanced at him, letting his hand fall away from it. It had been two days since the incident and two and a half days since the incident.

“I got shot,” he said obstinately.

Gus clicked his tongue. “Your other shoulder. I’m not talking about the Eyelet and the SpenceStar.”

“You remembered their names!” Shawn grinned, but it was interrupted by another wince and a hissing intake of breath.

“See? That! What is that?” Gus demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Shawn sighed irritably. “Elin kinda stabbed me.”

“No she didn’t,” Gus said, confused. “I was there, Shawn. Juliet and Lassiter showed up in time to make her drop the knife.”

“No, before that.” He winced again, no longer trying to hide it. “When I saw her sneakers and almost got run over. It’s nothing. Barely a bug bite.”

“That is not a bug bite,” Gus declared. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Show me!”

“I can’t do this with you right now.”

“Stop being a child, Shawn! Let me see—”

Shawn slapped his hand away and Gus tsked aggressively. After a brief chase around the desk while bickering incoherently, culminating in what was essentially a slap fight, Gus managed to grab Shawn’s shoulder, his finger hitting the wound. Shawn yelped.

“Okay, okay! You win,” he conceded bitterly, grimacing and twisting his head around to try to get a view of it while he tugged the collar of his button-down and the tee underneath to one side. “But there’s a Band-Aid on there, so unless you want to remove my wound dressing…”

Gus had pulled the fabric down. He looked up sternly at Shawn’s morose expression. “Shawn, this is not a Band-Aid. This is a cotton ball stuck on with masking tape.”

“It’s not masking tape. It’s microporous tape from an actual first aid kit,” Shawn argued.

“Since when do you have a first aid kit?”

“I didn’t say it was my first aid kit.”

Gus sighed. “Let me get mine.”

He kept it in his sample case; it just felt logical. Shawn sat down heavily, his sulk visible on his entire body rather than just his face. He slowly shook his head at nothing in particular while Gus’s back was turned.

Gus let out a soft hiss of breath when he pulled away Shawn’s makeshift dressing. It was a sign of just how bad his mood was that Shawn only grumbled a few minor quips at the discomfort of Gus cleaning the wound. He barely even complained when Gus informed him that they would be going to a clinic tomorrow to get a professional to look at it.

“Are you okay, Shawn?” he asked softly. Shawn didn’t answer. “Be real with me,” Gus prompted him after a few moments of silence.

“I’m thinking,” Shawn said.

“Uh-huh,” Gus said. “About what?”

“What to name this one. I mean, assuming it scars.”

“I think it will.”

“I’m remembering how you named the knot in your back after me. Shawn Junior.”

“Little Shawn,” Gus corrected him.

“Right. Maybe this one can be Junior, then.”

Gus frowned. “How come?”

“Well, Little Shawn was the consequence of my actions, right? So’s this.”

Gus could hear both of their breathing as he finished applying the dressing.

“This is the consequence of Elin’s actions and Elin’s only,” Gus said, smoothing down the edges. “She’s the one who chose to stab you.”

Shawn shook his head and spun in his chair once the fabric was back in place over the bandage. “I wouldn’t have been there alone if I hadn’t…” he began. “Never mind. Thanks, Gus.”