A New Perspective on an Old Theme
folder
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
27
Views:
4,894
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
27
Views:
4,894
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Psych, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 6 -- Should I Stay or Should I Go?
He looked down, and watched as several of the people he’d seen before stared at the light. Some of the people looked hopeful, some looked afraid, and some actually looked at it as if it were the most hateful sight they’d ever seen in their lives . . . Or deaths actually, and Shawn was surprised as a couple of them actually made a dash for it and were engulfed in it.
“It’s your decision,” a quiet voice spoke to Shawn, and he swallowed as he couldn’t tell if it was male or female, and then realized that it wasn’t important. “Are you done with your time here?” The voice asked, and slowly, Shawn drifted up to the light, and touched it with his fingertips.
It was warm, wonderfully so, but not hot like a fire or a summer day. It was more the warmth and comfort of having had an awesome night’s sleep, and actually woken up content just to lay in bed, to marinate in the comfort of the sheets and blankets, both of which were combined to make leaving the bed a physical impossibility. Very rarely had Shawn ever felt that level of comfort, and the light made even that an inadequate description of what he felt as he touched it.
Shawn slowly closed his eyes and listened as he heard voices singing the most amazingly beautiful music he had ever heard, and knew that even the Classical music written by what Gus assured him were the best composers on earth, dulled and dimmed in comparison to the music he heard coming from beyond the light.
Leisurely, the light reached out for him and he inhaled as a feeling of completely unconditional love flowed over and through him as the light surrounded him. He swore, with every ounce of self awareness he possessed, he felt something incredibly soft, almost like a blanket as it wrapped around him, and something equally soft brushed his cheek. For a moment he felt as if he were laying down, and sighed as he allowed himself to be wrapped in the love and the warmth and the softness, and the music, and wanted to go with it . . .
However, at the same time . . .
Shawn tilted his head and closed his eyes. The voice had asked if he wanted to leave the physical plane.
Shawn thought about it seriously for a moment, and instinctively knew that the light would wait for his decision. He snuggled further into the warmth and rubbed his face against the softness of whatever it was that held him, and sighed.
And the answer to the 64,000 dollar question was . . .
He honestly didn’t know.
“Think, Shawn,” he thought he heard his father’s voice in his head, and sighed. He wanted to be irritated, but wrapped n the love and comfort of whatever it was that held him, feeling any kind of emotion other than contentment was simply impossible. And speaking of his father, the man had been right before . . . he and Shawn were just getting to know one another again. Oh sure, they fought -- a lot -- but they also had , and were having, some good times together and were able to stay in one another’s presences for longer and longer periods of time without trying to rip holes into each other.
Was he ready to just chuck everything and leave, no matter how comforting and loving whatever was beyond the light was?
Was he ready to give up the friends he‘d actually made? The friends, other than Gus, who, for the first time in his life, had actually managed to stay around him for longer than a couple months at a time?
And speaking about friends, what about Gus? He was his best friend. If he chose to just go, then Gus would be left alone to face all the ramifications of Shawn’s false psychic claims himself. And there would be ramifications . . . Lassiter had been right about that.
“I guess it’s time I woke up now,” he said softly, and felt the warmth as it slowly retracted.
He closed his eyes and was enveloped by a wonderful darkness that was as comforting and as painless as the light had been.
“It’s your decision,” a quiet voice spoke to Shawn, and he swallowed as he couldn’t tell if it was male or female, and then realized that it wasn’t important. “Are you done with your time here?” The voice asked, and slowly, Shawn drifted up to the light, and touched it with his fingertips.
It was warm, wonderfully so, but not hot like a fire or a summer day. It was more the warmth and comfort of having had an awesome night’s sleep, and actually woken up content just to lay in bed, to marinate in the comfort of the sheets and blankets, both of which were combined to make leaving the bed a physical impossibility. Very rarely had Shawn ever felt that level of comfort, and the light made even that an inadequate description of what he felt as he touched it.
Shawn slowly closed his eyes and listened as he heard voices singing the most amazingly beautiful music he had ever heard, and knew that even the Classical music written by what Gus assured him were the best composers on earth, dulled and dimmed in comparison to the music he heard coming from beyond the light.
Leisurely, the light reached out for him and he inhaled as a feeling of completely unconditional love flowed over and through him as the light surrounded him. He swore, with every ounce of self awareness he possessed, he felt something incredibly soft, almost like a blanket as it wrapped around him, and something equally soft brushed his cheek. For a moment he felt as if he were laying down, and sighed as he allowed himself to be wrapped in the love and the warmth and the softness, and the music, and wanted to go with it . . .
However, at the same time . . .
Shawn tilted his head and closed his eyes. The voice had asked if he wanted to leave the physical plane.
Shawn thought about it seriously for a moment, and instinctively knew that the light would wait for his decision. He snuggled further into the warmth and rubbed his face against the softness of whatever it was that held him, and sighed.
And the answer to the 64,000 dollar question was . . .
He honestly didn’t know.
“Think, Shawn,” he thought he heard his father’s voice in his head, and sighed. He wanted to be irritated, but wrapped n the love and comfort of whatever it was that held him, feeling any kind of emotion other than contentment was simply impossible. And speaking of his father, the man had been right before . . . he and Shawn were just getting to know one another again. Oh sure, they fought -- a lot -- but they also had , and were having, some good times together and were able to stay in one another’s presences for longer and longer periods of time without trying to rip holes into each other.
Was he ready to just chuck everything and leave, no matter how comforting and loving whatever was beyond the light was?
Was he ready to give up the friends he‘d actually made? The friends, other than Gus, who, for the first time in his life, had actually managed to stay around him for longer than a couple months at a time?
And speaking about friends, what about Gus? He was his best friend. If he chose to just go, then Gus would be left alone to face all the ramifications of Shawn’s false psychic claims himself. And there would be ramifications . . . Lassiter had been right about that.
“I guess it’s time I woke up now,” he said softly, and felt the warmth as it slowly retracted.
He closed his eyes and was enveloped by a wonderful darkness that was as comforting and as painless as the light had been.