To celebrate Psych's reunion movie, I made this angst fic. I also made a discord server for everyone to fanboy/girl about. The code is C9E9T2q

He hates it.

He hates sitting around, waiting for some nurse to give him an answer. He hates life. He hates everything.

Lassiter can hear the rain outside. Fitting for a day like this, he muses. All he wants to do is walk out there, feel the wind whip against his frame and detach him from reality. But he doesn't, people need him.

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes, but she is there and he needs to stay strong for her. Lassiter's shoulders shake, but he tries to hide it. He needs to look after her so he can't break down. Not now.

"Carlton? Oh, Carlton," Juliet says. Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are puffy.

He wants to touch her and promise that everything is going to be okay. He doesn't, Lassiter can't, it's not true. Instead, he says, "O'hara."

She stands there. She doesn't launch herself into his arms like he expects her to, and she doesn't break down crying. She doesn't do anything, but the desolate slump of her shoulders tells him everything.

"It's okay," he tries, but it comes out weak and small. "It's okay."

Jules stares at him as if he's stupid— he's not, but he's as translucent as glass to her eyes. "It's not okay, Carlton."

He tries to find something to break the mood, but he can't think of anything. The rain gets heavier. His mouth opens to apologise, but the words catch in his throat. Lassiter sinks back into his chair. He tries to avoid her stormy blue eyes; they make him feel trapped. He wants to run, but he can't.

He has to stay strong, after all.

XoXoXo

"He's in a coma."

Lassiter doesn't know what to do. His mind blanks and all he can hear is the pounding of his heart. He finds himself at Shawn's side, clutching his hand tightly. Everything's a blur. He doesn't know how he got there or how long it's been, but he's not willing to leave.

He sits in silence. Silence, because Shawn's in his thoughts and there's no need for proper vocal communication. The Shawn inside his head tells him to strut like the proud peacock he is, but Shawn's basically dead and that's all that he can think of.

Lassiter doesn't move for hours on end. Doesn't shower, doesn't eat, doesn't drink. Everyone's worrying about him and he doesn't understand why. It's just grief, Lassiter tells himself. It's normal.

He waits. He's waiting for Shawn to wake up. He doesn't care how long it takes, Lassiter's staying right by his side. The chief gives him paid leave and he can't be more grateful.

He feels a twitch one day. It's nothing significant— just the slightest movement in Shawn's hand— but Lassiter's been holding onto it for so long that he feels it immediately. The nurses are called, and an overwhelming amount of hope blooms in his chest.

XoXoXo

Shawn goes into cardiac arrest. Lassiter's thrown out of the room, the nurses need all the space they can get. He feels helpless. He is helpless.

"He's flatlining!"

He tries to pretend it's someone else, but he can't stop the panic from flooding his body. Lassiter glances at Shawn and almost topples over. He hates feeling useless.

"Time of Death: 21:32."

He staggers back, collapsing into a chair. His stomach drops and reality freezes. The world seems a whole lot duller. He can vaguely hear Juliet sobbing, and Lassiter feels something wet drip down his face. His heart feels tight, too tight.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Lassiter wants to cry but Shawn doesn't let him; Shawn would've wanted him to support her. He's failed once, he isn't going to again. He takes her into his arms and murmurs small comforts. Peering into the room, Lassiter can make out the outline of Shawn's body underneath the blankets. He winces at the sight of Gus: he is pleading for Shawn to wake up.

Lassiter's heart shatters.

The crying figure in his arms reminds him why Shawn is there and the dam breaks. "You didn't have to take pills," he sobs.

You didn't have to leave us.