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On an ordinary Thursday night, Henry found himself in a bar on the outskirts of Santa Barbara. It was rare enough for him to drink alone, as he would sometimes enjoy some company, inviting Lassiter or one of his buddies. But not tonight. Henry wanted a quiet night and he knew he would go home quickly anyway.
The bar he went to this evening was a first for him. Henry liked to change of establishment on a regular basis. It was perhaps surprising for a creature of habit like himself, but that was mainly because he didn’t want to be often seen propping up the same bar, like some old drunkards. This place seemed nice, dimly lit and casual enough, and so he took place on a stool.
Henry then noticed a sound coming from the back of the bar. A woman stood on a stage, lit by a single spotlight, and sang some love ballad, accompanied by pre-recorded music through the speakers. It wasn’t too loud and even sounded pleasant to the grump.
Her song was over soon after, and she disappeared backstage, the platform now plunged in the dark, and Henry continued to sip his drink.
Then a silhouette crossed the stage and Henry casted an uninterested look at their direction, unable to see who it was at first. The spotlight was abruptly lit again and Henry’s heart skipped a beat.
Shawn stood here on the platform, the microphone in his hands. His son looked as fine as he last saw him, about three days ago, but Henry still noted the slightest shadow under Shawn’s eyes and a pinch of determination with a foreign dash of nervousness exuding from his silhouette.
Shawn then wetted his lips before he opened his mouth, an apparent cheer in his tone. “Good evening, everyone!”
The ex-detective tried to duck his head to stay low, hoping Shawn wouldn't notice his presence. Unfortunately for Henry, Shawn saw him, as he quickly glanced around the room, and their eyes met for a long terrifying moment where Henry feared his son was going to say something. But Shawn tore his gaze away and spoke again to the bar’s crowd.
“I hope you all have a terrific time tonight. The song I’m going to sing is a bit personal but I hope you’ll like it. And without further ado, now is the time for my performance.”
After a handful of quiet seconds, where you could only hear the tinkle of customers’ glasses, the first notes resounded in the bar and Shawn closed his eyes, in concentration. Then a deep singing voice rose in the bar.
It’s a sad affair
When there’s no one there
Henry quickly tried to jog his memory but he struggled to identify the song. He knew it was familiar, the tune seemingly coming from the eighties so Shawn must have listened to it a lot when he was a kid. He remembered how his son would always crank up the volume way louder than he should and turn a deaf ear to his old man’s yell.
Then Shawn reached the chorus and Henry felt like he was punched to the stomach as he focused on the lyrics.
And all this time he’s been getting you down
You ought to pick him up when there's no one around
And convince him, oh, just talk to him
‘Cause he knows in his heart you won't be home soon
‘Cause he's an only child in an only room
And he's dependent on you
Oh, he's dependent on you
Although Shawn was on stage, with a mic and the lights shining on him, gathering all the attention of the people in the bar, he acted like any other person. The feeling Henry got from his dramatic reveals, with the voices and his inability to stay still and focused, where the fake psychic almost begged to be the center of the attention; all of that was now gone.
It was like he was stripped of his usual exuberant persona. Shawn put his soul out in the open and he didn’t hide. He didn't lie. That was the real Shawn Spencer. And he was pouring his heart out with this song.
Like many customers, Henry was mesmerized by the young man’s performance. He was his father and he would’ve never guessed such a voice was kept a secret within Shawn’s body. As much as Shawn frequently infuriated him, he would be lying if he said that his performance didn’t move him.
Then the song reached the end as Shawn sang the outro.
Suffer, suffer the children
Suffer, suffer the children
Suffer, suffer the children
Suffer, suffer the children
Shawn’s voice gradually faded, until the last word was nothing but a whisper. He kept his head down and did a subtle bow to the crowd, thanking them before he disappeared from the stage, not waiting for the applause and almost fleeing backstage. Another singer took his place, but Henry was still shell-shocked from what he just witnessed.
However, Henry couldn’t leave this place without a talk to Shawn.
He abandoned his glass and dropped the money on the counter as he hurriedly hopped off his stool.
It was perhaps a cheap shot to corner the young man when he was vulnerable, but he knew very well that was his only opportunity to have a real conversation or else Shawn would keep eluding his questions with inappropriate jokes and obscure eighties’ movies references.
When the ex-detective scoured the backstage and came back empty-handed, he reached the bar’s entrance and spotted a dark figure standing next to a motorcycle and putting on a helmet. Henry didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know that it was Shawn trying to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Wait! Shawn!” Henry exclaimed as he jogged to catch up with his son.
Shawn froze for a moment, almost surprised that Henry already found him. But he guessed that was only wishful thinking to hope he wouldn’t follow him after what happened.
If he was honest, now that his secret was out, by his dad no less, Shawn was half tempted to flee Santa Barbara. To run across the country all over again. But he wasn't twenty anymore. And he couldn't do that to Gus one more time. What they built with Psych was so awesome and nice, it would be a real heartbreak to leave it behind.
Shawn’s shoulders drooped and he cut the engine of his bike, very reluctantly turning to face his dad.
“Hey, dad.” Shawn mustered a substitute of his enthusiasm but his father immediately saw through it.
“Hey, kid.” Henry said with a grimmer expression.
And neither of them spoke for a moment. Shawn was looking at the ground, shuffling from one foot to the other, as he refused to meet his dad's gaze. He knew he was acting childishly, but he didn't care. A lecture from his dad, chastising him for his actions and how it impacted the Spencer name, was impending anyway. Shawn was subjected to this look almost from birth after all.
But then Henry cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable in this delicate situation, and what he said wasn’t what Shawn quite expected. “Shawn, about earlier, um, that was… Listen, if I ever made you feel… What I'm trying to say is that–I'm-”
Shawn never witnessed his dad fumbling with his words so badly before. So he spoke to put an end to Henry’s misery.
“No, that's-that's okay, dad. I, uh… Mom told me the truth about the divorce the other day and it made me realize that you're maybe not the only one to blame for this whole mess. And perhaps I could’ve seen it earlier if I didn’t put mom on such a pedestal when I grew up.” Shawn quietly admitted with a shrug.
Henry’s eyes grew moist at Shawn’s confession. At a complete loss of words, Henry did what his instinct, not his cop instinct for once but his fatherly one, screamed at him to do.
He hugged his son.
Shawn froze at the embrace, unsure of what was happening. But then he felt his already weakened walls crumbling as his eyes stung and he closed them shut to keep the tears at bay. He hugged his dad back, soaking up all the warmth he’d been deprived of during all those years.
“I did good, right?” Shawn asked in a very small, childlike voice, as he clung to his dad's ugly shirt.
He didn’t ask about a thing in particular, whether he talked about the song he sang or who he was as a person; it didn’t matter and the father and son both knew it.
Henry’s answer was immediate. “You did great, kid. You did really great. I'm proud of you.” He patted the back of Shawn’s head, lightly stroking his hair.
Shawn almost hated how this simple, yet sincere declaration brought tears to his eyes. Still, a small smile tugged at his lips as he could feel his inner child finally healing.