A/N: This story was written by a friend. We both enjoy "Psych" and are loving this new "as-angsty-as-Psych-will-ever-get" season. Please enjoy this brief fic.

Goose

When he was little, she would swing him up into her arms and tickle him until he squealed, and then she'd look at him with a laugh on her face and say in that baby voice, "There's my little goose."

Sometimes she would be gone for days, maybe even weeks, and even a few times, months, but when he heard the door open his feet couldn't carry him down the stairs fast enough. As she dropped her bags to hear his pounding footsteps she would call out, "Goose, I'm home!"

After he'd traveled hundreds of miles on his motorcycle and had knocked patiently on the large apartment door, it was hard to forget the look on her face when she saw him standing there, tired but proud, and her voice cried out in a higher octave from surprise, saying, "Goose!"

Now as he listened to the voice on the other side of the phone, he felt nothing. Just a sudden, painful emptiness like something was seriously wrong, but his mind wouldn't believe it. Instead, he let the phone close before he numbly walked from the room.

Juliet was stunned as she watched Shawn leave the Chief's office, ignoring everyone around him as if he were in a trance. Even Gus looked perplexed and very worried. One moment she, Detective Lassiter, Gus, and Shawn had been talking over a case with Chief Vick when the cheerful tune of "When the Saints Go Marching in" began to play.

Shawn had reached into his pocket to fish out his phone, pausing to check the caller ID. He looked a little confused as he muttered, "Salt Lake City Hospital?" before flipping the phone open and putting it to his hear with a casual, "'ello?"

Chief Vick sighed in frustration at the interruption while Lassiter rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance, and Gus shrugged in apology.

All they could hear was Shawn as he responded to the unknown caller. "Uh, this is he…. Yes, that is correct. Why-"

Suddenly, Shawn's face went white, and he gripped the chair in front of him, saying in a strained whisper, "Say again?" Everyone in the room could feel the change in atmosphere and hung onto every meaningless word that Shawn uttered. It seemed like an eternity that Shawn stood just listening to the voice on the other end of the phone.

Finally he spoke, "Yes, thank you." They could hear the dial tone long before Shawn muttered as if on auto-pilot, "Good-bye."

Very slowly, the phone came down from his ear, but still he didn't utter a sound beyond his harsh breaths. His eyes were slightly glazed, and he stared straight ahead. It was as though his mind was collecting itself, rendering him unable to blink or move any muscle in his body.

Finally, the daze ended for a moment as he looked at the faces watching him, then the glaze was back as he turned to leave the room.

Silence enveloped the office after Shawn left. Not even Lassiter made a sound. At last, Juliet looked at Gus and said, "I'll go find him." Gus nodded wordlessly.

Running out into the hallway, Juliet saw Buzz and hurried over to him, but before she could ask if he'd seen Shawn, Buzz said with wide, concerned eyes, "He went outside."

Juliet nodded in thanks and moments later burst out of the Santa Barbara Police Department, looking wildly around for Shawn. He was nowhere, but Gus had the keys to the car, so he couldn't be far. She tried to think where he could have gone.

The sand squished beneath Juliet's high-heeled shoes making it difficult to walk, so in two deft moments, she relieved her feet of that burden and winced at the feel of sand in her nylons. Ignoring her discomfort she walked toward the bench where Shawn sat staring out at the ocean.

Silently, Juliet slipped onto the bench beside him. Neither said a word for a long time, and the silence was nearly smothering her. Finally Shawn let out a funny choked breath and flashed her a smile that wasn't a smile at all. Juliet placed a hand on his back and began to rub small circles.

Just like that, Shawn broke and the tiniest sob left his throat, his head ducked in embarrassment as he controlled his emotions. His breaths slowly evened out, and his body stopped its painful shaking.

That's when she heard it, in a voice that hurt more to her ears than any crying. It was a low voice, one that felt the need to reign in all emotion, but sounded like it was traveling over a tightened throat.

Shawn sat there with his head in his hands and murmured in a voice so low that she could hardly understand it, "She used to call me 'Goose.'"

Thank you for reading. If you spotted any errors, please let me know. They would be my fault, not my friend's, as I edited this. Any continuity or character errors would be a pleasure to be made known of, and any grammatical issues would be appreciated as well. Also, if you have any positive comments to contribute, a review would be wonderful. Thank you again.