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Author's Chapter Notes:
I don't do first season stories very often, so I hope it's okay. Psych not mine.

Three purple, two yellow. Each had six petals, with the exception of a purple one, two of which had fallen onto the blanket near her feet, their color a stark contrast against the drab white of the sheets.

The whole room was painfully plain, actually. There should have been various gifts strewn everywhere: brightly colored "get well soon" balloons, and those cute little bears downstairs in the gift shop. At least that's how it was every time Shawn woke up from sustaining yet another injury.

He shouldn't have been surprised though. After all, she had only been in Santa Barbara for a matter of weeks; it was only natural for there to be no one who would care enough to visit her. Even Shawn probably wouldn't have, not if it wasn't for the fact that he had already been there, letting a doctor check out the knee he had re-sprained (the first time being in a motorcycle accident while working a case) due to strenuous activity. On his way out, he had happened to catch a glimpse of a list a doctor was holding, and saw a familiar name there.


Shawn had been surprised how concerned he was, mostly because he didn't usually get concerned for people who weren't Gus or his mom, especially people he barely knew. He had trained himself not to, after all. No strong attachments or relationships besides the ones he already had. They would only end badly. And yet, all he could think about while in the painfully slow elevator making its way to the third floor, was how the young Junior Detective had helped him during their last case, believing in him when no one else would, and whether or not she would be okay.

She was. The nurse in the room had patiently explained the unconscious young woman's condition to him: how the gunshot wound to the leg was only a graze, and that she could be released with only a pair of crutches as soon as she was awake.

This had been a great relief to Shawn, although he hadn't been able to get over the plainness of the room. So action was taken, and he made his way downstairs as well as he could on his injured leg, dismissed every bouquet in the gift shop, as none of them seemed to suit her, and settled for some flowers he found outside.

All of which led him back to the hospital room, staring at the two purple petals on her blanket. They looked better like that, he decided.

Thirty petals there when he left: eighteen purple, twelve yellow. As a colorful reminder that there was someone who cared, they invited her to wake up.
Chapter End Notes:
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