Shawn blinked open his crusty, burning eyes. He could feel his body shaking, and he couldn't stop it. Sleep. He needed more sleep, the once place where he could escape from this freezing hell.

People were shouting. He wished they'd stop. Why couldn't they just shut up and let him sleep?

"Of course, we got hacked, Abner! The cursor started moving on its own; what, do you want me to show you the exact break in the circuitry where it happened? We've—"

"Well, we aren't moving out, if that's what you're asking." Abner's voice was cool.

"I wasn't asking. I'm telling you. We have to get out of here."

"She's right. I mean, we've had our fun, but it's time to pack it up."

That was... that was Jack's voice, wasn't it?

"Let's just kill him now and get out of here," Jack said.

"He's right. We've gotten all we can and now—"

"No."

Blissful silence.

"Abner—"

Oh, come on! Shawn thought. His free hand slapped against the bed, trying to reach his pillow so he could slap it over his head.

His fingers connected with something. Something small and plastic. The end of his shoelace. The one with the small metal piece attached. Nifty for picking locks.

That's… I was... I used it to...

His thoughts were stumbling, the sentences falling flat on their nonexistent faces before he could finish them.

He tugged at the handcuff that held his wrist captive. In one fluid movement, the weight fell away.

I... I did it.

His eyes shot wide open, his heartbeat thrashing in his ears. For a split second his mind cleared, just before the full force of a headache slammed into it.

No, no, not now! God, please, not now…

He was crying out to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, he was stumbling across the room. His breath was coming in gasps, he was choking on it. Hacking. It turned the world red.

This is crazy, this is so crazy...

"I am not giving up now," Abner said. "I am not stopping until I get what I came here for."

"We're going to get caught!"

Abner made a sound like a sneer. "And here I thought you were willing to go farther than anyone else."

His fingers connected with a piece of cold metal. A doorknob? Probably. He was going away from the voices. Run.

Everything was tilting. He stayed hunched over in a stumbling run, occasionally slapping the ground with his hand in an effort to keep upright, the other hand groping in front of him. He still could barely see, and the last thing he wanted to do was crash into a wall.

It felt as it the very ground was sucking at his feet, pulling him under. Through another door, down a long hallway, turn. Colors flicked past his eyes, gradually growing dimmer until there was nothing but darkness left.

Shawn felt cold concrete slap against his face. His eyes were open wide, but all he could see was blackness. No indication of where he was, not even a clue of whether he was inside or outside.

He could hear nothing but the thrashing of his own heart in his ears.

A drop of water splashed onto his cheek, then slid down his face, but whether from rain or a leaky pipe... he didn't know.

Every fiber in his body was pulled tight, every nerve expecting to feel Abner's cold hand on his skin, ears waiting for the sound of his footstep.

Drowning. His body wouldn't stop trembling and each breath felt a more constricted. Shawn coughed and hacked until tears spilled out of his eyes, but it wouldn't go away. The ground rippled underneath his body.

He was back in the lake watching everything around him fill up with water, and he was powerless to stop it.

"P-please..."

All for nothing.

He's gonna kill me, if I don't die first.

But—

Then again, superheroes did have a knack for showing up just in time.

The Arrow's fist smashing into Mark's face, the Arrow's arm squeezing the breath out of the man's trachea.

"People are dying. We need answers. Now."

Abner, needle falling from his bloodstained hands, a grin plastered on his face.

"I'm doing this to save them. To save this city."

The ends justifying the means. That's what he told himself every time he pulled a psychic vision out of his pocket in order to forego standard police procedure, when he skipped the warrant in favor of snatching the key out from under the mat. The ends justified the means. He caught the person and didn't get caught.

He'd been such an idiot. He still felt like an idiot now.

"I just..." Shawn whispered between wheezing breaths, "I just... want to go... home."

Time seemed to skid for a while. It felt like hours, it felt like seconds. It felt like darkness and cold and pain.

It felt like something hard smashing into his stomach.

All the air rushed out of his body, leaving him retching. This was worse than the worst dry heave he'd ever had.

Please...

He tried to curl up to protect himself, but the thing came again, this time hitting his face. Then blood in his mouth, coppery. Metallic.

"You," Abner snarled. His voice creaked. "You've ruined everything. I was supposed to find my cure in you, but you tried to run. Ungrateful imbecile."

Abner.

Something odd bubbled up inside of him, something almost like a laugh. He was getting the snot kicked out of him by a... what... a sixty-year-old man?

Real pathetic.

Then suddenly, he was jerked onto his feet, an arm around his neck, holding him upright.

"Let him go."

That voice. He knew that voice. There was only one guy who could make his voice sound like swallowing boiling gravel was his day job.

Just then Shawn felt something sharp prickling against his throat. It... hurt. It was almost unreal, how in all the agony flooding through his body right now, that one small detail stood out. It was something he could relate to, a small dose of discomfort he was familiar with.

One small detail in a hurricane of pain.

"I'm an expert on the human body, Arrow," Abner asked, his voice smooth as liquid butter. "I know exactly what arteries to cut. And once I do, he'll be dead in less than a minute."

Crap. Shawn's breath sawed in and out between his clenched teeth. Cold flooded through his nerves.

Pack it away, he said silently. Pack it away where you can't feel it, just like you always do.

Gasping breath in, wheezing breath out.

"So, I suggest you put the bow and arrows away for now."

For a second there was silence, then the small nose of metal objects bumping into one another.

"That's right."

Wow, Shawn thought, he does care.

"Just let him go," Oliver said, his voice grating.

"I think we both know that's not going to happen."

"Then what do you want?"

"Two hours. Two hours and I will give him back."

Liar, Shawn thought. He could feel his legs shaking with the effort of holding his body up. The bright spots in his vision were slowly growing dimmer. But his mind was still racing, memories flicking across his mind's eye, anything, anything that could-

"Dad, we've done this a million times already!"

"And you'll have to do it a million times more. It needs to be instinctive, and it needs to be fast."

"But no one even uses knives anymore!"

"Lots of people use knives. Now, repeat back to me."

"Only use it as a last resort. Don't try and run, don't struggle. Reach up with both hands and pull down.

"Good. Now, let's try it again."

"It's okay," Shawn said. He inched his hands upward, as if in surrender.

"That's right," Abner said. Shawn felt his grip relax slightly. "That's—"

I'm not going to die today.

Shawn grabbed Abner's hand. Without really stopping to think, Shawn jerked the man's hand down and away from him, then slammed his fist into Abner's wrist.

Abner yelled in pain and let go. Shawn dropped to the ground with a wheeze, adrenaline and exhaustion colliding in his core and making him want to puke. Then a hand grabbed his collar, yanking him backwards. For a second, he tried to struggle, then...

"Shawn," Oliver said. "It's me. I've got you."

"Oh..." Shawn panted. "Uh... thanks..."

A second later Shawn felt Oliver's hand slip away. He fell to his side, shivering, trying to push himself up and failing horribly. A part of him just wanted to lay down on the dirty concrete and just sleep.

There was the low hum of a bowstring drawn back, and something deep inside of Shawn eased. He was safe.

Safe.

Sure, they may have fought before, but all that mattered now... he was protected.

"It's over," Oliver growled.

There was a brief pause. The dog let out a low whine. Shawn could feel it pressing up against his leg.

"You've won," Abner said, his voice soft. "That's what you think, don't you?"

The rustle of cloth.

"What are you doing?" It was almost more of a snarl than a question.

"I've failed, Father. I've failed you. I've failed this city. That's what you used to say, did you?"

Boots. The sound of boots slapping against pavement. Someone was coming. No. Someones.

"I can't. I can't let anyone else have this cure." A strained breath, then another. "I cannot stand to just sit by and see another person take my life's work from me." A wheeze. "And that is why..."

Several noises. He didn't know what they were. Everything around him blurred out, like rain down a windowsill, and all he could think about was the pain, fire burning along his ribs and ice dripping down everything else.

Make it stop, make it stop…. hurting…

"SCPD! Get down!" That was... Captain Lance, wasn't it?

"He's already down." A man's voice. Reuben's voice.

"Woah! I mean, woah! I mean... holy crap, did we just catch this guy? I mean, did I actually catch this guy?"

Heidi's voice.

"Thanks for the tip," Captain Lance muttered, presumably to the Arrow. Shawn could just barely hear him over the faint ringing in his ears.

Shawn felt a hand close around his shoulder and groaned. "Hey, hang in there," Oliver said.

"Yeah, 'm trying, 'm trying," Shawn wheezed. "Uh... thanks for savin'... me... I mean... I was worried you wouldn' c'm back after..."

"Shawn."

"...I mean... I'm kinda sorry..."

"Shawn."

"For what I..."

"Shawn. Just save your breath."

"Don't feel... good."

A sigh. "I know, Shawn. I know."

Then, as if through a tunnel, Captain Lance's words came floating into Shawn's ears. "Yeah, looks like we've got a 10-56 here."

10-56... wait... that meant...

Suicide.

o

"I'm... alive?"

Shawn let his eyes drift to the TV, the news anchor's oh-so-chirpy voice chattering on and on.

"With the help of STAR Labs, I am pleased to announce that a cure for the newly named 'Hayden's Disease,' a variant of the flu virus, has been found. Vaccinations are being worked on as we speak and with luck should be available to the public soon."

His whole body ached. Sure, the cough had gone away along with most of the pain, but there was a deeper ache inside of him, hitting right at his core. Cold.

He pulled the blanket closer, his hands fidgeting with an old half-solved Rubik's cube.

The male anchor turned to his partner. "And is it true that, in a rather controversial twist, part of the cure was found in former medical scientist Abner Foster's research?"

"Yes, that is true. For those of you who don't know, Abner Foster..."

Shawn dropped the cube in favor of the remote and switched the TV off.

"Well that was disappointing," he muttered. "Didn't even mention me once."

He could almost hear Gus' reply. "If you'd kept watching maybe they would!"

A meow. Boots jumped onto Shawn's lap, the cat's entire body vibrating with purrs.

A cure, found in the murder of seven people and countless innocent animals. Maybe if he hadn't been an idiot and just listened to germaphobic Gus for once they would have had more time.

"I wasn't going to let my best friend die," Gus had said.

And Shawn couldn't blame him. He'd have done the same thing if their places were switched.

Maybe it was a way of honoring those people's memory. Taking these atrocities and using them to save his life. But… they hadn't asked for this. No one knew what those seven people wanted.

No one ever would.

"Hey, Shawn. How are you feeling?"

Shawn looked up and offered Ava a wry grin. "About 57.8 percent better."

"Your dad was asking about you again."

Shawn groaned. The absolute worst part of this whole misadventures was that they'd contacted his dad after he'd been found. He'd had to listen to the full lecture. Henry had shut up only after Shawn said that he'd used one of his dad's many tricks to save his life.

But after that, he'd spent a few days alone, deserted on this island of a city, isolated from his old life back in Santa Barbara.

He plead the fifth with Chief Vick and the others, leaving it at "I'll be coming back in a jiff." He didn't want to have to explain what he had gone through. There would be time to embellish and emblazon his hard-fought victory. But not right now.

Right now, he felt relief that Abner was dead. No... no he didn't. But, in a way, Abner deserved it. But why... why more death?

"Having another psychic vision?"

Again, he blinked, once more pulled from his circling thoughts. At any other time, he might have been annoyed but right now, he felt grateful.

"Of sorts," Shawn said, bringing his knees up to his chest to she could sit down on the couch next to him. The couch was soft and warm, inviting sleep. Inviting nightmares. Abner with a knife pressing against Shawn's neck, Abner cutting his own throat, and the Arrow...

"He could have stopped him..." Shawn mumbled.

"Shawn," Ava said, lifting a hand. "Not psychic, remember?"

Shawn gave a soft snort. "I was... talking about Abner. He... The Arrow... probably could have stopped him from killin' himself like an idiot. I know. This is coming from me, the guy who solves a murder every week, pretty much. But, I mean, this one didn't have to happen. And, coupled with the fact that it wasn't a murder and there was no mystery involved and—"

"Shawn. It's okay." She placed her hand over his. "I get it." Her other hand moved to tickle under Boots' chin and the purring increased.

"Now, I'm sure you've heard about last year's terrorist attack," Ava said.

"Yeah. The super angry solider dudes... or something. There wasn't a whole lot of info."

"We didn't get a whole lot of information either," Ava said. "From what I've been able to gather, some scientists somewhere, somehow created this drug that could supposedly cure all diseases and make people very strong. The only downside was the side effect of... basically insanity. I wonder if that's what flashed through the Arrow's mind. I mean, you only have a second to decide. And for that one second, your mind goes back to all those people who were killed because of a 'miracle' drug. And you hesitate. And then it's too late."

Shawn was silent for a long moment. Then, "You're really something, Ava."

Ava just snorted. "Oh, that? I'm pretty sure that was God talking."

o

"I still can't believe you talked me into this. It's too sunny here," Oliver growled, delicately picking his way through the crowds of people. Shawn grinned and chomped off another hunk of ice cream. Oliver glanced over. "Do you really have to do that?"

"My city, my rules."

"You're not going to stop rubbing that in my face, are you?" Oliver said. "Another reason why I shouldn't have come. I should have gone with Gus. At least he knows how to be somewhat serious."

"Nah," Shawn said, "he wouldn't dream of missing the chance to flirt with Felicity."

"He's not her type. She wouldn't fall for that kind of guy."

Shawn's eyebrows shot up. "Ooooh, does someone have a crush on Felicity?"

Oliver stopped and crossed his arms, his gaze drifting upwards. "You really are the most childish person I've ever met."

Maybe it's because I didn't want to end up like you.

"I prefer the term… one who finds the joy in life and doesn't have to be all dark and brooding all the time," Shawn said, lifting his hand and waggling his fingers with a flourish. "But—" he glanced over at Oliver, who rolled his eyes "—Your city needs someone like that. Someone who really knows how to kick tail. Not saying I don't know how to thrash the bad guys—"

"You do it in your own way," Oliver said, a rare grin quirking his mouth. "Sure, you may set the building on fire, get chased by a crazy old man, get officially kicked off the case. But in the end you solve the mystery."

"Exactly," Shawn said, throwing out an arm and nearly hitting a passerby in the face. Then he stopped. "Did you just… compliment me?"

"Don't get to used to it."

Shawn leaned over the railing of the dock. The sound of gentle waves splashing against the wood filled his ears, intermingling with the soft chatter of people. Behind them, steady as a loyal dog, sat the Psych office, beyond that, his dad's house, the police station…. Home.

Finally home.

"You know, for all our differences, there's one thing we've got in common," Shawn said. He took a deep breath of the salty air, then let it out. "We'd both do anything to help protect our cities. To make sure we don't 'fail this city.'"

Oliver rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over the railing, ignoring Shawn's offered fist bump. "You know that's right."

A/N: And that's all she wrote...

Thank you for reading!