Authors Notes: This is a prequal/sequal to "Sweet Tea in the Summer" based off Taylor Swift's song Seven. It is based off of her song This is Me Trying. As with the last one, you don't have to listen to the song, but also it's beautiful and I would highly suggest it!

Special thanks to ClaireFisher on AO3 who suggested continuing this story! I am so happy I did!

Enjoy!

"What's your poison?" An older man asked, walking up behind Shawn at the bar and taking a clumsy seat on the stool next to him.

"Whiskey," Shawn said casually, unable to take his eyes of the auburn liquid dancing around the mostly melted chips of ice cubes in his glass. He'd been sitting there for the better part of an hour, willing himself not to take a sip, but unable to pull himself away.

He didn't know where he was, somewhere off a nameless truck stop in Nevada. He knew where he was supposed to be though- on his way to a bar in Santa Barbara sitting next to his best friend for his 28th birthday. But he couldn't go back. He had tried. Just like he had tried last year, and the year before, and nearly every year for the last ten years.

He had gotten close too- even made it all the way to the top of his dad's street one time. But every time he tried to go home, he would lose his whit. He was so afraid he would get stuck back in the very same town he had spent the better part of his childhood trying to run from. Not that he wanted to leave the town, or his home, or his friends. But he couldn't go back home. Not to his home at least. The one where his father had "taught him lessons." At least that's what Henry had called it. Shawn would equate it closer to psychological and emotional torture, but who's to say which one of them was right.

"I'll have one too," the man said to the bartender before turning his attention back to Shawn. "Aren't you a little young to be wasting your life in a bar at 1:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday?"

"What's it to you?"

"Oh Mikey," the man said, chuckling as he took the drink from the bartender. "We've got a kid with a chip on his shoulder on our hands today!"

The bartender smiled and rolled his eyes. "Leave the kid alone, Wally."

"I don't have a chip on my shoulder," Shawn said, and he started to grab his drink to move away from the loud man. Not that he didn't like talking to people. He was usually quite fond of the art of entertaining strangers with his stories from the road. But not today. "And I'm not a kid," he responded begrudgingly, hating how it made him sound even more like a child.

"Oh c'mon son," the man said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to the stool. "So how old are you?"

"27."

"Where you from?"

Shawn usually loved this question. Not because he like telling random strangers where he was from. He liked it because this was his in. From this question, he could be whoever he wanted to be. He could make up a whole new story. A new identity. A new everything, so he didn't have to be him anymore.

But not today.

"Santa Barbara," he said, quietly, watching the last flakes of ice cubes dissolve into the glass. He didn't have it in him to make up a story.

"Alright Santa Barbara," Wally said, slapping the bar excitedly with the new information. "What's a young, good looking guy like you doing at a place like this? You know there are so many other bars in the world- one's with pretty girls in them even!"

He knew there were other bars. Like the one his best friend would be sitting in tonight, celebrating his birthday. The one where Shawn was supposed to be too, sitting right next to him.

"Believe me, I know," Shawn said, still watching the drink. He didn't know what it was about Wally. Maybe it was that he called him out so quickly, or how his crooked grin poked out of his scruffy beard, but he was drawn to him, and for once in his life, he wanted to tell someone his story- his real story. Not one of the ones he had made up.

"So what are you doing here?" Wally asked, his words already getting lazy from the whiskey he had been drinking. "Who are you running from?"

"My father," Shawn said, and before he knew it the words began to pour out of him, faster than he could think of them.

"Shawn!" his father's voice bellowed from downstairs. He could just hear his words over the music that sang out from his record player, blasting into the back of the closet. Even if he was in high school now, he still found comfort in the closet and the security that the dark walls provided.

Shawn sunk deeper into the corner, his hands over his head. He knew what was coming. He heard the footsteps pounding up the stairs. He'd been here before. He was about to fail half of his classes, and the other ones weren't far behind. And no amount of foraging his father's signature could keep the school from calling his father at work when his midterm report cards came home with four F's to make sure he was aware of the "situation."

"Are you kidding me, kid?" his father yelled, flinging the door open. His army men stayed standing in place on the bookshelf behind the door. Shawn had tapped them down after years of having to set them up over and over again every time his father's anger had knocked them over.

"FOUR F's? And two D's? Shawn! You're smarter than that! I taught you to be better than that. You're better than some low-life failure who's about to flunk out of high school because the going got tough. Get out of your damn head, kid."

"I'm not in my head." Shawn tried to argue back, but he could hear his voice getting lost in the music.

"Oh yeah?" Henry asked, taking the needle off the record to stop the music and his voice filled the space that was once filled with the music. "Well you sure as hell aren't using it!"

Shawn crossed his arms, trying not to let the words affect him. He continued running the record through his head, attempting to tune out the world.

"You're making life really damn hard on yourself, Shawn," Henry said, his arms swinging around him wildly for emphasis. "It's all your fault. And you're never going anywhere- not with that head."

"Mom thought I was going somewhere," Shawn said quietly, spitting fire through his teeth.

"Yeah, well your mother's not here anymore, is she Shawn?" Henry said, slamming his fist on the wall next to the closet. "So I guess you're stuck with me."

"I'd rather live on the street."

"Be my guest, Kid," Henry yelled, clearly bored of the argument, or just needing another drink to finish it. "You wouldn't make it five minutes on the street!"

Shawn waited for the door to slam solidly shut before sneaking across the room in his socks, slinging his shoes over his shoulder and climbing through the window.

"There was this girl at school, Natasha, who was really into me." Shawn continued, his thoughts floating mournfully to the day his mother left them- more specifically left him. She had told him before she left that this wasn't about him, and that she just couldn't make it work with his father anymore and she needed to take this new job that she had always wanted. But when he got home from school that day to realize that her stuff was really gone, he felt hardened. Mad at his dad for driving her away, mad at his mom for leaving him here, and mad at himself for being mad at her. It wasn't her fault his father was insufferable. But why couldn't he have come too?

"Nice," Wally said, encouraging him to continue talking. He was sipping slowly on a beer, casually eyeing the untouched drink in front of Shawn. "I wanted to impress her. And I didn't feel like I had anything to lose. I knew I wasn't going anywhere. He reminded me of that every day. But maybe if this cool girl with dark makeup and leather jackets was into me, I could have been something to someone."

"You take her out?"

"Something like that," Shawn said, smiling at the faded memory of the rush he had felt the night he had hotwired her neighbor's car and took them out on a joy ride. They had driven up into the winding mountains, found a secluded cut-out in the road, and blasted music. He needed the music to get out of his head. Cause that's where all his problems were, according to his father, at least. All the cages he had locked himself in- good news everyone! Call the shrinks and tell them to stand down! According to Henry the Great, it was all in his head.

"So, what went wrong?"

"My father," Shawn said, scowling. Natasha had seen them first, the police officers tapping on the window, breaking up their bodies for the first time since they had parked. She didn't know what it meant. She tried to sweet-talk the officer down, but she didn't know- how could she? There was no talking down Henry Spencer, especially not when it came to Shawn and his screwups.

"You got caught, hu?"

"Stealing a car. He was the arresting officer."

"Tough luck."

"You have no idea."

The fire in his father's eyes when he pulled him by the arm into the police station, and the look of disdain for Shawn's very existence when he had asked what he was going to tell Shawn's mother. And the hurt that crept in- for just a second- when Shawn asked how he was going to get ahold of her after she changed her number.

But in all honesty, Shawn wasn't asking to be an ass. Well, he was, but that wasn't the only reason. He really wanted to know if his father had it because he didn't, and all Shawn wanted was to call his mom and ask her where she was and beg her to take him with her.

And at the end of the night, him stealing a car and getting arrested wasn't the worst thing that had happened that night.

"How'd you do it?" Henry asked, slamming the table that separated them.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Shawn smirked, the power of having a secret that his dad wanted the answer to filling him with the confidence to stand up to the man he had been hiding from for as long as he could remember.

"Yeah, keep up the smart-ass act, Shawn. This is going on your permanent record."

"Oh no!" Shawn gasped in mock horror, "not my permanent record! I'll never be a cop like my old man now! What ever will I do?"

He smiled as his father growled, jumping up and knocking the table over as he did. He was about to say something else when the door swung open and the Chief stood at the door.

"Henry, a word?" Shawn studied his face. He thought he was going to be angry, yelling at Henry for interrogating his own son like a criminal, but instead, his face looked somber. He wouldn't make eye contact with Henry as he huffed and walked out the door.

Through the shadows reflecting on the other side of the one-way mirror, Shawn saw the two men talking. He couldn't quite make out all the emotions, but he saw the Chief put a hand on Henry's shoulder as they both shook their heads.

A moment later, the door opened softly and Henry grabbed his jacket off the chair and nodded to the officer in the corner of the room with a terrible 80's mustache that he had yet to grow into.

"Let's go," Henry said, sounding deflated while the officer unhooked his handcuffs from the table.

"Thanks," Shawn said, absently, still eyeing his father who walked out the door without turning back.

"What happened?" Wally asked, leaning in intensely, hanging on Shawn's every word.

"His partner, Roy, got shot on a call that he was supposed to be on too. But instead, he was out in the field arresting me, and Roy died."

"Oh, shit," Mikey said, watching them from the other side of the bar. It was still quiet in the middle of the afternoon, and the bartender had since pulled up a barstool and joined in the storytime.

"I don't think he ever quite forgave me for that. Things were bad before, but after that, I rarely went home. I couldn't bring myself to face him, especially not after the funeral."

"What happened?"

Henry had dragged Shawn to the funeral. Not that he went without a fight, but he didn't mind going either. Roy had been a good friend of the family for years. He had two young daughters who were quite smitten with Shawn, and whenever they had dinner Shawn would teach them how to play video games or trick teachers into thinking you're paying attention during class.

The funeral was nice. The whole police department came, along with Roy's family and many extended friends. Tears were shed as his wife spoke and his daughters sang a song for him.

Henry was quiet on the way home.

"Hey," Shawn said, cautious to open his mouth. They had barely said anything but grunting in the other's general direction in the last week since Shawn got arrested and Henry got the news. They didn't have much to say to each other, and his father had spent the better part of the week couped up in the living room with the curtains drawn, watching cop movies and drinking nothing but beer. "I'm really sorry about Roy."

" Sure you are," Henry scoffed, not taking his eyes off the road.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're so damn self-absorbed, you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself." He didn't take his eyes off the road, a week's worth of anger driving his voice louder.

"Yeah," Shawn laughed, shaking his head, "you're one to talk. Like you've ever given a shit about me."

"How could you even think that! After I devoted years and years to trying to teach your sorry ass how to be the best detective this city had ever seen. I would come home after work just to teach you lessons and instead of using them, you just use your skills to what? Steal cars and impress girls? And I'm the one who has to come pick you up off the side of the road instead of doing my actual job as a detective," He was yelling now, racing down the highway well over the speed limit in frustration.

"So that's what this is about? You think this is my fault, don't you?"

"If I had been there that night, none of this would be happening and those two little girls would still have a father. I should have been there. I should have had his back. But I was stuck dealing with you. You worthless shit!"

Shawn felt anger suffocating him as the words shot through him like a knife.

"You should have been there!" Shawn shot back, "Maybe then you would have gotten shot instead! And I wouldn't have to learn any more of you stupid lessons."

"Fuck you!" Henry yelled, his voice filling the car as it slammed to a stop on the side of the road. "Get out."

"Are you kidding?" Shawn laughed, looking around. "We're on a highway in the middle of nowhere- I'm pretty sure that's illegal Mr. Detective."

"Not my problem," Henry said, turning off the car and looking straight out the window.

His heart pounded against his chest as he flung off his seatbelt and shoved the door open with his foot.

"Go to hell!" He yelled at the car as it took off, leaving him coughing in a cloud of dust.

"You walked home?" Wally asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Home?" Shawn laughed, "Nah, I pretty much spent the rest of senior year avoiding that place like the plague. I went to my best friend Gus' house. His parents let me stay in the basement so I didn't have to go home.

"Did you ever graduate?" Mikey asked, handing a drink to an onlooker.

"Well yes, but more by chance than actually trying. My teachers found out I was smart and got all sad that I didn't apply myself. So just to prove my father wrong, since he was so determined that I wasn't going to graduate, I started taking the tests. I didn't do homework- I wasn't about to waste my time with that, but I sat in class when I wasn't working to buy my motorcycle and taking the tests just to make my grades passable. And then my teachers then started getting mad at me cause I would ace their tests while barely coming to class or doing the homework. I couldn't win!"

"So you did it?" Wally asked, his voice slowing down with each finished drink.

"Heck yeah, I did. Finished with all C's and graduated."

"Really?" Mikey asked, "You did all that just to prove your dad wrong?"

"Well that..." His voice trailed off as Mikey started to laugh, "And the pretty girl I was trying to impress."

Abigail Lytar was the prettiest girl in their grade. She was so smart but she was quiet. She would spend lunch reading in the corner instead of dancing around in the cafeteria trying to impress the boys. She was mysterious and unattainable, and Shawn felt drawn to her in ways that he couldn't explain. But he wanted to get to know her in ways he hadn't wanted to get to know anyone since he was seven years old.

"Abigail Lytar," Shawn said, kneeling down in front of her and holding a bouquet of dandelions over his head. "Will you go to the Senior Night Carnival on the pier with me?"

"Shawn," Abigail said, her smile growing on her cheeks while pity filled her eyes. "You've asked me every day this week and I keep saying no- do you ever give up?"

"Not when something is right. And this, Abigail, is right."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. But her smile still lit up her face, giving him hope.

"I'll meet you there at eight," he said, pushing the flowers into her hands and running to catch up with Gus so he could tell him all about the date he had scored to the carnival.

But when the night of the carnival came, he couldn't do it.

He made it all the way to the boardwalk when he saw Abigail standing at the end of the boardwalk. She looked beautiful in a blue pinstripe baby doll dress and black Doc Martin sandals. He watched her pacing back and forth, looking out onto the water and over her shoulder for him, shoving her fist deep in the pocket of her jean jacket.

Shawn watched her from behind the Ferris wheel, his heart beating uncontrollably and his thoughts running a million miles a minute. He wanted to walk up to her, more than anything. It was his last night there. Graduation was tomorrow. He wanted to make tonight count with the pretty girl who had finally said yes to him. But he couldn't do it.

After 45 minutes, he saw her rub her fingers under her eyes and slowly walk away, taking the row of butterfly clips out of her hair and looking down to cover her face.

He wanted to call out to her. He wanted to scream. This could be it- she could be the one she was meant to be with. But he couldn't, because deep down in his heart he knew he had already met his forever- and it wasn't Abigail, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.

Frustration filled his lungs as he pulled out a flask of whiskey he had stolen from his father's house the last time he snuck home to pack up some of his things when he knew his father was at work. As he quickly downed it, the voices in his head began to calm down and he felt warm and bubbly, cooling down the angry fire that had been running through his veins just moments before.

"Shawn!" Gus yelled, running around the corner.

"Hey man!" Shawn said, smiling like a child at the sight of his best friend. He strutted over to him and wrapped his arms around Gus, who quickly pushed him off.

"Shawn! What the hell are you doing back here? I just saw Abigail leaving, and she looked like she was crying. What happened?"

"Who, her?" Shawn said, devoting all his muscles to leaning naturally against a wall. "I wasn't interested. Who needs girls when I've got everything I need right here?" He tapped his finger on Gus' chest who batted it away and leaned in closer.

"Dude, are you drunk?"

"You're drunk," Shawn shot back, laughing at his own genius.

"Shawn, are you kidding?" Gus asked. He sounded angry. Shawn couldn't understand why though- what's the big deal? So what if he was drunk? A lot of them had been drinking- it was Senior's night! It was their last big party before they graduated and had to go out into the real world and be adults. So what if he was a little tipsy?

"You're going to get in trouble." Gus folded his arms and shook his head, but Shawn could see his eyes keeping watch for any of the chaperones.

"What's it to you? You're leaving and going to some fancy private college? What do you care what I do, you freaking sell out?"

"Are you kidding me, Shawn?" Gus asked. Shawn could tell he was getting angry, and it was an admittedly welcome response. "You could have gone to college too, Shawn. It's not my fault you wasted this whole year being mad at your dad because your mom left and he lost his partner."

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" the warm feeling turning back into fire at the mention of his father. Gus didn't understand. How could he? People like him- with two loving parents who support him no matter what and take care of him and love him. Who didn't tell him he was worthless every chance they got or drank until the sun came up. People like Gus have no idea what it's like growing up with people like Henry. No one did. There had only been one person in the world who knew what that was like. Who knew who he was and understood what he was going through and still loved him. But she was gone. He hadn't talked to her in 10 years.

"Shawn, c'mon. Calm down. Let's go get some water. Come to graduation tomorrow and we can figure out what you will do next."

"Oh shut up, Mr. Big Shot. You think you're so special just because you took the prettiest girl in our school to prom? Well guess what, hotshot- The only reason she did that is because I told her you were dying!"

"Shawn, it's not my fault that you're throwing your life away. Stop taking it out on me."

"Oh go to hell!" Shawn yelled, storming away, mad at his best friend for killing his buzz.

"Well?" Wally asked, "Did you go to graduation?"

"I did," Shawn said, "I guess I wanted to prove my dad wrong, show him that I did it."

The next morning, he showed up at graduation on his shiny new motorcycle he had finally bought the night before. All this time of saving his money he had been working for had finally paid off when he drove off in the barely used motorcycle that his boss had promised to save for him. He had a bag packed in the lockbox on the back and his helmet snapped in place on the side. He was ready. He had all his money and documents and clothes tucked away and he was ready to go. Taking one last sip of liquid courage before he went inside, he tucked the flask back into the lockbox, snapped the lock back in place, and followed the string of other students.

He walked into the stadium where he saw the other students congregating in the back. He watched parents smiling and taking pictures, excited for their kids. Grandparents were standing around with flowers, silently judging the dresses and hairstyles that "never would have been allowed in my day."

The morning passed slowly as he followed his classmates into the chairs on the field, listened to speeches, and waited for his name to be called. Sometimes he would catch someone's eye who would wave at him, but most people just ignored him, a nameless face that they would forget about before their first college party.

"Shawn Spencer." He heard is name echo across the field to polite applause. No loud cheers or war whoops like those that the football players and kids with parents there got. Just him, walking across the stage as the next person's name was called.

He looked out into the bleachers as he shook the principal's hand, nodding politely as he scanned the field for a familiar face. He wasn't there. He knew he wasn't going to come. He didn't expect him to be there and he didn't want him to be there. But would it really have been so hard for him to just show up? Like a father is supposed to. Everyone else's parents had come. Why couldn't his?

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the principal said to an already cheering crowd of parents, "I am pleased to present to you Lelend Bosseigh High School's graduating class of 1995!"

Shawn was out of the auditorium before his cap hit the ground.

"You left?" Mikey asked, cleaning out a glass. "In 1995? Have you ever been back?"

"I've tried. But every time I get close I back out. I see a police car or a truck that looks like my dad's and I end up booking it east as fast as humanly possible." He thought back to all the times he had hidden behind a bush on his motorcycle, watching people pass, part of him wanting to see someone he recognized, and the other part of him terrified to be trapped.

"What about Gus?" Wally asked, "Did you ever see him again?"

"Once. About three years later. I tried to visit him at school but... he was better off without me."

"That can't be true," Wally said, "I've lost enough friends in my days for stupid reasons, and I promise, no matter how they are feeling, you're definitely not better off without them."

"Nah man," Shawn said, not convinced, "You should have seen him, walking around in his sweater vest like he owned the place."

He thought about how happy Gus had looked, high-fiving the other students and giving firm handshakes to all the professors. He was smiling, at ease. He met up with a beautiful girl and sat under a tree, a book open on each of their laps, his arm around her. Shawn couldn't mess that up. It wouldn't be fair to Gus. Not after everything that Gus had done for him through the years. It just wouldn't be fair.

"What about the girl?"

"Abigail?"

"Not her. The one you're actually in love with- from when you were younger?" Wally smiled slyly towards Shawn, who was caught off guard by the question. He hadn't told anyone about her. Ever. He was afraid to say her name. Afraid to share her with the world. She was like his guardian angel. He had protected her in his heart even as her memory faded into a memory so distant he wasn't convinced she had ever existed at all.

"I tried to find her- I uh..." He trailed off for a moment. "I did find her."

About five years after he left, he tried to find Juliet. He rode his motorcycle to Florida, working jobs for a few weeks at a time and searching phone books for her. He didn't know which city she moved to. He realized when he got there that had never even learned her mom's name. But he was determined, asking around at local restaurants and looking in college directories trying to find her.

Then, that spring, he finally found her registered for the Police Academy in Miami. She was in her last year, preparing to graduate that weekend.

He would go there. He would find her. He would tell her he hadn't stopped loving her since they were seven years old and they could be together and be happy, Spencer name be damned.

The ceremony was held in a small arena on a sunny May day. He hid in the back, standing behind a support beam and watching silently as speeches were made and names were read. He looked out in the sea of fresh uniforms, trying to find her by the back of her head.

There were only a handful of girls graduating in a sea of men, even fewer blond. He saw a few girls with curly hair whispering to each other across the aisle. One turned and blew a kiss to a boy a few rows up. One sat silently in the middle of the group, looking down, her blond hair French braided into a tight bun.

That had to be her. The girl who had taught him how to braid hair in the trees and could sit silently with him while they hid in his closet for hours. It had to be her.

Names started being called and the graduates began standing up in their rows to receive their badges.

Markswick… McKallen… Nivens… Novack…

"Juliet O'Hara," the announcer said, and suddenly two big men stood up in the crowd and started cheering loudly, a smaller woman politely clapping next to them. Even from the back to the stands, Shawn could see Juliet's cheeks turning pink. She looked out and waved at them, but her eyes wandered for a moment and for a half a second, he could see Juliet's smile fade before she regained her composure, shook hands with the Dean, and continued across the stage.

He wanted to see her. He wanted to run to her and take her hand and they could run away together and be happy forever. But he couldn't do that. What was he supposed to say?

"Hey Jules? Remember me? I'm that boy you lived next to for one year who fell in love with you. I tracked you down at your graduation. Want to run away together and get married? I promise I'm not a serial killer."

Once again, he was gone before the ceremony was over.

"You just left?" Mikey asked. "You didn't go and say hi to her or anything?" Wally asked. "You didn't tell her you loved her?"

"I couldn't do it."

"So what are you going to do now?" Mikey asked.

"I don't know."

Shawn looked down at the glass of whiskey. He thought about all the times he had picked up the glass. When he got his first fake ID on the road and started frequenting bars. Buying drinks for girls and hooking up. Making fake friends with fake stories and pretending to be someone he wasn't. But it hurt. Everywhere he went he wanted to be somewhere else. Every job he worked he wished he was doing something different. He felt rubbed raw, years of hurt starting to show through. He felt exposed and exhausted from spending all of his time trying to cover himself back up. He didn't know if he could do it anymore. He didn't think he had it in him.

"I think I have to go. I have a birthday party to get to."

"Good luck kid," Wally said, smiling at Mikey. "I hope you get the girl."

"Thanks, man," Shawn said, giving one last look at the now lukewarm glass of whiskey in front of him. "Take this."

He slid the drink across the bar, nodding at the two men, and left. He wanted something. for the first time, he wanted to get something back. He didn't know what, but he was done being alone. He missed Gus. He missed having someone who knew him. And he needed to apologize.

He pushed the keys into his once shiny motorcycle. But the miles had worn out its shine, and the rain had added a thin layer of rust around the edges.

He took off down the road, swerving through the mountains until the whole horizon opened up in front of him. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the sunlight shine on his face. Pulling his motorcycle off the road onto the lookout, he threw down the kickstand and walked towards the edge of the guardrail. The mountain dipped sharply in front of him, and he kicked a rock in his path, watching it tumble down the cliff until it disappeared in the trees.

How easy it would be for him to follow. To pitch himself off the side of the road, leaving all his hurt from the past and fear for the future behind. How easy it would be to leave this life behind.

But then he would never get to say goodbye. The regret that had stung in his heart for the last ten years over sneaking off of the football field after graduation without even seeing Gus off had eaten away at him since he left. And if he left now-for good- then he would never get to say goodbye.

He saw his life in flashbacks. Stories of love and hurt that had pushed him away from his home.

Screaming into the waterfall with Juliet.

Trying to solve his father's puzzles.

Playing cowboys with Gus.

Hiding in his closet while his parents screamed downstairs.

But for the first time in years, he actually wanted to try.

His heart was beating wildly against his sternum when he walked up to the door for Gus' apartment. What if this wasn't him? What if his research had been wrong or he had turned right instead of left? What if Gus didn't want to see him? What if he slammed the door in his face, or refused to answer at all?

Shaking out his hands, Shawn took a step forward and knocked on the door.

"Shawn?" He heard the voice before he saw him.

"Shawn, is that you?" Gus said, smiling and pulling the door all the way open. "Boy am I happy to see you!"

Before he knew it, Gus's arms were around him pulling him in for ten years worth of missing him. Shawn let out his breath and pulled Gus in closer.

"I'm so sorry, man," Shawn said after a minute. "I don't know what to say, but I'm trying. And I just needed you to know that."

"You didn't even say goodbye," Gus said, a sad smile on his face.

"I had to go. And it wasn't your fault. But I'm back now. I want to be here. I want to try."

"That's all I ever wanted was for you to try. C'mon inside. I imagine you could use a new job."

Shawn laughed and followed his best friend inside.

He may never find Juliet again.

And he might never forgive his father.

But he was here and he was trying.

At least he was trying.

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! More to come in this series? I am having a lot of fun with it!

Also, if you want an idea of what happens after Shawn gets to Santa Barbara, check out the first story!

Thanks for reading!