Fear - 22

Shawn was moved out of the ICU to a private room two days after the beating.

Gene had called home, setting it up with the doctor handling his patients to keep seeing them for at least another week. The doctor had protested until Gene told him what was happening. Then he offered to take over indefinitely until Gene was ready to come back.

Now Gene sat in the lounge waiting to hear if Shawn had awakened. Doctor Schwartz had let the nurses know that Gene was to be allowed to visit Shawn when he wished. He planned to take full advantage of that, wanting to be there so Shawn would know there was someone who cared. From what he'd been told, Shawn had arrived at the hospital with no wallet and no other ID on him, and the police had found nothing at the trailer, when they finally located it, to indicate what family members he might have that they could get in touch with.

As Gene thumbed through a well-worn magazine, he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up he saw one of the nurses coming his way. She stopped, smiled, and said, "He's awake. Very groggy, but awake. Doctor Schwartz had already been and gone and said it was all right for you to visit him. He thought it might be a good idea for you to be there when the police talked to Shawn as well."

"Thank you." Gene hurried down the hallway to Shawn's room, stopping when he got to the door to ask if he could come in.

Shawn nodded slightly, even though he seemed surprised to see him there. When Gene got to the side of the bed, Shawn asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you here? Where's Jared?"

Gene sat down in the chair beside him, replying, "I'm here because I thought you might need a friend. As for Jared, at this point, no one knows where he is."

* * * *

"But…" Shawn closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears that were suddenly burning behind his lids from flowing. "He wouldn't go off and leave me."

He opened them again when he heard a man say, "I'm Detective Rawlins," obviously introducing himself to Gene. The detective pulled up another chair, repeating his introduction to Shawn, adding, "Are you up to talking for a few minutes?"

"I… guess. About what?"

"About what happened to you."

"I fell… tripped over a chair and… and…" Shawn frowned. "Hit my head?"

"No, Shawn," Gene said softly, "that's not what happened."

"It is! It's always that way. I'm a klutz and… and I run into things."

"Mr. Mathews," the detective said firmly, "I think you know that's not the case. For whatever reason your friend—or boyfriend, I gather—beat you up. Very badly in point of fact."