A/N - It's been done before, but I'm still relatively new to the fandom and I just re-watched the episode.
I couldn't help it.

Loss

Shawn stood at the very end of the pier, staring out at the vast ocean. Abigail had left. Juliet was safe. Yin was… gone.

He was as far from land as he could get in Santa Barbara without getting on a boat, and it felt right.

The pier was deserted this early in the morning, and although a few fishermen were starting to set up, Shawn didn't register their presence.

He was alone.

In every sense of the word.

He watched the waves rolling through endless variations of beautiful color in the glow of the sunrise, and where he should have felt victory at having once again beaten the Yin/Yang killers –
or at the very least seen the dawn as the promise of a new day -
all he could feel was loss.

It was a heavy weight, and he wanted nothing more, at the moment, than to sink down under it – like sinking under the gentle waves before him – and never come up.

He was in trouble, and he knew it. He wasn't supposed to do this. He needed to go do something silly and immature and light and funny or he would go crazy with the weight of his misery – his mind - his memory. But he simply couldn't muster up the motivation.

Yang and now Yin had taken too much from him. Huge chunks of his soul were missing and the worst part was that he/she/they/it? was still out there – Yin would come back and take more.

He understood that he hadn't really beaten Yang last year – he'd found her, sure. He'd solved all her riddles and he'd found her, but he knew all too well that he should have been too late. He hadn't swooped in just in time to save his mom (and his dad, because let's face it, if the bomb had gone off neither one of his parents would've survived). Yang had waited for him. She'd let him win.

It had been the first time he'd really had to take a hard look at his detecting skills and accept the fact that he wasn't always going to win.

The night Yang taken his confidence was also the night he'd lost his only real chance with Jules. 'the best things… the richest things… aren't supposed to come easily…'

She'd kissed him.

How many millions of times had that memory replayed in his head?

She'd never kiss him again.

He'd had to accept that he was going to make mistakes - mistakes that got people killed – like Mary. He closed his eyes and physically cringed as his mind immediately shied away from that memory. It was still too painful, that wound too raw.

And now Abigail was gone. Because of Yin.

He'd listened- really listened to every word she'd said sitting there next to him, looking absolutely, exquisitely beautiful in the early morning light, wrapped in a blanket, her hair nearly dry.

He had thought that it meant something, being there on that pier. It did – but not what he'd wanted it to mean.

He'd wanted to fight for her, ask her –beg her to stay with him. She was everything he'd known she'd be. He'd been truthful when he'd said she inspired him.

And then she'd kissed him, and he'd thought, for one blissful moment that she would work with him – meet him half way. He'd smiled.

But then: "I'm just not cut out for this."

And in true Shawn Spencer form, a million thoughts raced through his mind in a second and he realized that the only right thing to do was to let her go. "It's okay…" he'd whispered to her as yet another hole was torn in him, "I'm sorry, Abigail."

And then, in trying to be funny – to lighten the moment – she spoke the worst possible sentence she could have: "Call me if you ever decide to quit chasing psychopaths?"

He'd tried to laugh for her – show her he was okay – that he understood. But all she had done was shown how little she understood him and it hurt.

Yin got away – the game wasn't over.

Chasing psychopaths was exactly what he was going to be doing for a while – one psychopath in particular.

Because that was yet another loss: sleep. 'You don't catch this guy, kid, you're never going to sleep again.' Nightmares are so much fun.

Shawn stood there at the very end of the pier, and wondered why people weren't pointing and staring at him, the Swiss cheese man. So many holes. So many pieces of him gone. Couldn't they see? Was there enough of him left to continue?

He felt someone approaching him from behind… Maybe they were finally coming to take what was left of him away.

But it was Gus, "Hey."

When he didn't answer, or even turn his head, his best friend in the whole world simply walked up and joined him in silently looking out at the ocean.

Abigail had just been leaving when Gus had pulled up and he'd known instantly, just by the look on her face what had happened between her and Shawn. He felt sorry for Abigail, and hoped she had a way to deal with the last twenty-four hours – but this was Shawn's life. He wondered seriously just how much more his buddy could take. But he also knew what Shawn needed right now: sleep, food and fun. Not necessarily in that order. He took a deep breath and spoke, forcing his voice to sound as normal as possible, "There's a food truck just opening up..."

Shawn continued to stare, but a tiny bit of warmth had begun to grow. The holes weren't filled, but they were softened by the gentleness of sincere, undying friendship.

Gus nudged his buddy's arm, "C'mon. My treat."

Shawn still didn't move but a slow smile began to creep across his features.

He turned away from the emptiness.

The two men began the long walk back up the pier side by side.

Then Shawn elbowed Gus just hard enough to make him take a step to the side, "I could go for some mole tacos."

"Now, that's scary…"

FIN

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