A/N: It's been such a long time since I've written a story. This is my first time writing for this fandom so I hope I did well. I was kind of in a bad place when I wrote this but I hope you guys enjoy it none the less!

Warnings: Angst, suicidal thoughts/actions.

Rated: T for themes and one drop of the F-Bomb.

He hated this.

He'd have good days. Days where he could pretend that he had a normal life. Well, normal for him. His days were spent following his favorite detectives around the police station, hoping to get on the latest case. Most of the time, the Chief or his dad would give it to him, much to Lassiter's dismay. Shawn knew that the head detective didn't care much for him, but Shawn still considered him a friend. He always played it off, but all the hate that flowed from Lassiter really hurt Shawn.

And that lead to his bad days.

He wasn't going to blame Lassiter on all of his problems, but he was involved in most of them. When Shawn had his bad days, he would lock himself in his apartment until Gus came looking for him. He cursed that he had such a good friend that was concerned about him when all he wanted to do was lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling for three days. But after the last "incident", Gus doesn't leave Shawn alone for too long. Shawn tried to explain that it was a mistake; That he wasn't trying to kill himself. He honestly thought jumping from the office's roof while severely intoxicated was a good idea. Normally Gus would've just chalked that up to Shawn being Shawn but it was the reason Shawn had been drinking was the issue. He knew that his best friend had serious depression, but he tried to help him by keeping him focused on things he liked. That's why Gus was all for starting this "Psychic Detective" agency. It kept Shawn focused.

But now, with being on a short leash, Shawn decided to run. He told himself that it was only going to be for a few days. Just enough time away from Santa Barbara to clear his head. But in the back of his mind, he knew a few days could very easily turn into months. He was just tired of running away from his problems, so he turned to the bottle. His tolerance was very high due to the amount that he drinks, but he could usually get drunk enough to numb the pain. After he finished the bottle and a half he had stashed in the office, he decided to walk home. The bitter cold would numb him more than the alcohol could. So off he went, walking the half an hour route to his apartment.

It wasn't that late, only around 10 pm, but the world seemed asleep. The was no one around and he didn't care. He would rather be alone to his thoughts. Whenever he was in these moods, his mind always turned to Lassiter and how his hatred really hurt him. He never wanted to be on the head detective's bad side. He tried so hard to gain his respect. Following him around like the love-sick puppy that he was, trying to get Lassie to see him in a new light. But Shawn knew that the right-winged, gun toting, squirrel hating Carlton Lassiter would never feel the same way. It was a lost cause and Shawn couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something.

During his walk he crossed over a bridge. When he got half way across it he stopped and turned to look at the dark water below. He leaned over the railing and sighed.

"So it comes to this." He said to no one. The little voice in his head, that sounded a lot like Gus, was yelling at him; That this was not a good idea and to turn around but his mind was made up. He climbed up onto the railing and sat there. He tried, with every fiber of his being, to fling himself over the edge and into the water 40 feet below but couldn't. He sighed deeply and just sat there. Maybe if he sat there long enough he would get tired and gravity would let him fall. He hung his head as the tears fell. He was tired of living a lie and putting a mask on for everyone.

He sat for almost an hour, alone with his thoughts and willing himself to fall. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the car pull up a few feet behind him.

"Spencer? Is that you?" A familiar voice called out. Shawn tightened his hands into fists, making his knuckles turn white. No, anyone but him. "Shawn?" The voice called out again, a little unsure, and Shawn heard him moving closer. Of course it was him. Who else to witness his final moments than the one person that caused him to be here?

Shawn cleared his throat. "Hey, Lassie." Shawn's voice was soft, almost a whisper. Lassiter froze in place.

"Spencer, what in the hell do you think you're doing? Get your ass down from there before you fall!" Lassiter almost yelled. Shawn shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Lassieface." Shawn's voice was a little louder but it sounded broken.

"And why not? You know I have better things to do than to waste my time with you." Lassiter tried to sound annoyed but to the trained ear, you could detect just a hint of worry.

"I can't come down because…" Shawn wasn't sure if he should tell him his plan. Lassiter wouldn't care anyway. Hell, he'd probably push him over. "Because if I come down now I'll never go through with it. This is the farthest I've come." He didn't realize Lassiter had walked closer to him and was almost directly behind him.

"Farthest you've come to what?"

"Killing myself." Lassiter wasn't sure what shocked him more: That Shawn had just said that he wanted to kill himself or the fact that he sounded so determined that he knew this wasn't just a sick joke.

"Spencer, whatever kind of sick joke this is, you need to knock it off."

"But that's the thing. This isn't a joke. I've been sitting here willing myself to just jump, but I can't. I'm such a coward." Lassiter wasn't sure how to react. He was trained to talk to suicidal people, hell, he's talked a few jumpers down before. But it was never someone this close to him. Some he knew and cared about.

"Spencer, please. Come down from there and we can talk about whatever is bothering you." Lassiter was now right behind him, but he didn't touch him.

Shawn laughed. "You picked one hell of a time to try and be nice to me. Is it because you don't want to file the paperwork? Because I know for a fact you don't really care whether or not I jump." At that statement Lassiter placed a firm hand around Shawn's arm.

"Shawn, how could you say that I wouldn't care? Because I would care a whole lot more than you think, apparently."

"Bullshit. You're just saying that." Shawn tried to break away from Lassiter's grip but it wasn't working; His grip just got tighter.

"You need to get down and we can talk."

"Go away. I'm doing this." Seeing that he wasn't getting through to him, Lassiter did the only thing he could think of. He climbed up next to Shawn and handcuffed himself to him.

"Go ahead. But if you go, I go." Shawn just looked at him, not believing that Lassiter just did that.

"What are you doing?" He said in a defeated tone, looking back at the water.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Lass, I'm sorry. I truly am. But I can't keep living like this. The pain is just too much."

"Then talk to me. Please. What is causing you so much pain?"

"You" Shawn whispered soft enough that Lassiter didn't hear him.

"What?"

"It's you!" Shawn yelled, looking at him. "How am I supposed to live my life every day knowing that you hate me? I've tried to get you to like and respect me, but nothing I do seems to work. In fact, it seems the more I try, the more you hate me. I love you, Lassie, and it causes me so much pain that you will never love me back." They just stared at each other, tears freely flowing from Shawn's eyes.

"Do you know why I'm here? Because I care enough to be worried sick about you. Gus called O'Hara and I asking if we'd seen you. He didn't want to at first but he told us that you've been in a bad state of mind and said you hadn't talked to him in almost three days. I told him I would call if I saw you. I tried to ignore it, you were just being you. But the way Gus was acting had me worried so I ducked out of the station and decided to swing by your apartment to see if you were there. I was on my way when I saw you here. So please, don't ever say that I don't care. Because I love you too much to see you hurting. And I don't want to lose you." Lassiter held Shawn's hand and gave it a light squeeze, as if to convey every emotion he was feeling to Shawn. Shawn sniffled then cleared his throat.

"If you love me so much, why do you act like you hate me?"

"Because I was afraid. The way I feel about you, I've never felt about Victoria. And I know I'm not good enough for you so I figured if I pushed you away, the feelings would go away. If I had known that it would've lead to this, I never would've pushed you away." Lassiter was looking up at the sky, willing away the tears that were threatening to fall. It was Shawn's turn to squeeze his hand.

"It look like we both fucked up, huh?" Shawn asked and Lassiter gave a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I guess so." There was a pause, neither sure of what to say.

"So where do we go from here?" Shawn questioned.

"We get far away from this bridge. And, if you're willing, talk about...us?" Lassiter replied with a small smile on his face.

"Is there an us?" Shawn looked at Lassiter with hopeful eyes.

"I would like it if you would."

"I would like very much that." Shawn felt like he was given a whole new life. He started the night wanting to kill himself, to end all of his pain. Now, as Lassiter was uncuffing their wrists and helping Shawn over the railing, Shawn felt happy. An emotion he didn't think he would truly ever feel again. They both climbed into the car but before Lassiter turned it on, he looked over at Shawn.

"Shawn, I'm not saying that I can fix you completely. But I really want to try. I don't want to lose you." Shawn was so glad to hear that. It made him begin to feel like his old self. Shawn smiled and said the only thing he could think of.

"So. Your place or mine?"

I hope you guys liked it! Please review and let me know. I have a few ideas for more stories involving this fandom so if you guys want more, let me know.

~Bibi ^.^