I wrote this in response to a challenge on Psychfic. The requirements were that you had to give Shawn a case of transient global amnesia. TGA is a temporary memory loss where you don't remember things that happened from a day to years ago. It usually goes away after twenty-four to forty-eight hours (sorry if that's a bit inaccurate). Your short term memory loss is also affected. But, you do remember people you are close to. I hope you enjoy. There will be a kind of short epilogue after this. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review and tell me what you think.

Ch. 1: Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep- Is That A Pineapple?

Shawn opened his eyes slowly. Everything was blurry and hazy. He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked several times trying to clear his vision. Once he did, he sat up slowly and looked around. He had been laying on the floor off a small room. There was a dim light coming from the ceiling, but nothing else. There was a door on the wall he was facing, but the doorknob on the inside was gone. He turned slightly and jumped back when he realized someone else was in the room.

The man looked over at him, almost with a glare, "It's about time you woke up, Spencer."

Shawn's face took on a puzzled look, "Do I know you?"

The man looked at him oddly, "Quit playing games, Spencer. This is hardly the time or place."

Shawn tilted his head, "Seriously, man. Do I know you?"

The man, who had been slightly hidden from Shawn's view because of the lighting, stood up and moved towards Shawn, looking almost concerned, but more annoyed. Shawn quickly scanned the man's face. It was familiar. "Lassie?"

Lassiter knelt beside Shawn, "Gosh Spencer, you got hit pretty good."

Shawn reached up and touched his head, wincing when he did. "When did that happen?"

Lassiter' brow furrowed as he looked Shawn over. Apparently coming to a conclusion, he said, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Shawn shut his eyes and focused. But, he couldn't. There was nothing to focus on. His breathing started to pick up. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything! What was he doing here? Now he was hyperventilating. He had always had a near perfect memory. The feeling that he couldn't remember something that had apparently just happen was practically traumatizing.

Lassiter put a hand on Shawn's shoulder, "Whoa, calm down Spencer."

Shawn took a few deep breaths. Lassie was right, he needed to calm down. He could do this. He just had to remember... Panic started to over take him again. Ok, trying to remember clearly isn't a good idea at the moment. Shawn reached up and felt his head. There was a large bump starting to form on the back. He winced when he touched it.

Lassiter noticed, "You got hit from behind by one of the guys who stuck us in here. You've been out for a while. That may be what's causing the memory loss."

Shawn looked up at Lassiter and shook his head, "That may be the cause, but man, this is way worse. I mean, I can't just not remember the past few hours. I can't even remember what the last thing I remember is because I know there's a gap in my memory." Shawn pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

Lassiter patted him gently on the shoulder before he moved off, giving Shawn some time to get his bearings.

Shawn thought hard. Ok, how about an easy question, where am I? He had no idea. Ok, maybe that wasn't such any easy question. How about, who's with me? Lassiter, he was a detective at the SBPD. Why did he know that? He hadn't been to Santa Barbara in years. Had Lassiter worked with his dad? No, he was pretty sure that wasn't it. Then why did he know him? Wait, he had a vague memory of coming back to Santa Barbara and calling in tips to the police department. Was that how he knew Lassiter? That made sense, almost. It felt right, but still slightly off. Oh well, it would do for now.

Shawn opened his eyes and looked around the room. It was small, probably the size of a small bathroom. There was a single light hanging from the ceiling, but the bulb was very dim, almost like it was about to burn out. Shawn almost wished to himself that it wouldn't burn out, but stopped himself. Don't jinx it. He turned his head and again noticed the door with the missing handle. And it opened into the room. Great. He looked back over at Lassiter. He should probably try and get some details about where they were and why.

"Hey," Shawn said hoarsely. He coughed slightly; his throat was really dry. Why didn't kidnappers ever give you water? "Could you fill me in on what's going on, since I can't seem to remember?"

Lassiter let out a tired sigh, as if it was hard for him to go over the details, but he still understood why Shawn asked, "Well, I was at the parking garage you said the thieves were meeting in. I got there and saw you doing a terrible job at hiding behind one of the cars. As I was starting to radio for back up, I saw some movement, got out and drew my weapon. I was attacked from behind and blacked out."

Shawn nodded like he understood, but he didn't. Well, he understood, but he didn't remember. It was terrifying. Normally, even if he couldn't remember something, which was rare, hearing someone talk about it would jog his memory. But not even Lassiter's fairly descriptive explanation was giving him anything. Not even the faintest sliver of a memory.

Shawn rubbed his hand over his face. He was really starting to freak out. Sure, he had already almost had a panic attack, but that had been a momentary shock. Now it was really starting to sink in, what this really meant for him. His memory was everything to him. He remembered everything, every little detail. Even those little details that he didn't realize he remembered were buried in there somewhere. But now, he had blanked completely on an unknown amount of time. He had no idea how long the gap in his memory lasted. And it was really freaking him out.

Lassiter looked over at him, "Look, I get that you're in a lot of pain right now, but we need to figure out how to get out of here."

Pain? What was he talking about? Shawn leaned his head back against the wall and winced. That's right, he had a bump on his head. Dang it. Apparently his short term memory wasn't fairing too well either. Shawn rubbed the back of his head gently, "Yeah, I know. You got any ideas?"

"No, Spencer," Lassiter grumbled, "I don't have anything. That's why I asked you."

Shawn grimaced, "Right sorry." He felt the urge to snap back with a harsh comment, but he pushed it aside.

"Besides, shouldn't you have, you know," Lassiter waved his arms around his head and said in a mocking tone, "'divined' something?"

Shawn cocked his head, "Divined?" What was he talking about?

Lassiter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not wanting to explain, "You know, had one of your," he hesitated, "visions?"

Shawn shut his eyes. Visions? Did Lassiter think he hallucinated or something? "I don't have 'visions'," Shawn replied, trying not to sound offended. He knew that he had a memory gap, but he knew just by the way he felt that he wasn't on drugs or medication. So why would Lassiter think he had visions?

Lassiter seemed to be taken aback by this answer. But only for a moment. For one moment after, a look of something not dissimilar from joy crossed his face, but in an instant it was gone.

Shawn shook the thoughts away. He didn't have time to think about what Lassiter's deal was. From what he had gather, he and Lassiter were being held here by some bad people. The sooner they got out, the better.

Shawn slowly pushed himself to his feet, his head throbbing. He pressed his hand to his forehead again. He stood still for a moment. Once the throbbing had slightly become more bearable, Shawn made his was to the door. The handle was missing, but the door had been designed to have only one handle. Unfortunately, that meant the knob still had to be turned on the other side for the door to open. Shawn let out a sigh. Maybe their best bet was to just sit tight. Lassiter probably had backup on the way, right?

Shawn turned away from the door, intending to walk back to where he had been sitting, but the throbbing in his head came back full force. Instead, he slumped against the door and slid down it into a sitting position. He shut his eyes tight, pleading with his head to kindly please stop throbbing for just a moment, but preferably longer.

Trying to keep his mind off the pain in his head, Shawn decided to ask Lassiter, "Any chance there's backup coming to get us?"

Shawn was pretty sure that Lassiter glared at him, even though Shawn couldn't see him, as he replied, "I don't know, Spencer. I've been locked in the exact same room as you for the same amount of time. So unless you think I can communicate telepathically, I don't have any way of contacting anyone."

Shawn sent Lassiter his own glare, "I'm so sorry for not being able to remember anything about what's going on." Shawn gave a small, but overly dramatic, bow, "Do forgive me for not being a mind reader."

Once again the express on Lassiter's face confused Shawn. Why on earth was the man smiling, or at least considering smiling, when they were locked in this room by persons unknown without any help on its way? Clearly something Shawn kept saying was making him happy. But for the life of him, Shawn couldn't figure out anything he had said that would elicit that reaction, certainly not twice.

The look quickly vanished from Lassiter's face and was replaced by his hardened, slightly angry look that seemed permanently plastered on his face. Actually, he looked as if he was about to say something, and something snide by the looks of it, but decided against it.

Shawn just pushed it away, deciding to venture to ask about help again, "How 'bout a chance of help coming on its own initiative?"

Lassiter gave Shawn a confused look, before replying incredulously, "How the heck should I know, Spencer?! Do I really need to repeat my former statement?"

Shawn sighed and leaned his head back, "No, I remember that just fine." Man, this guy just couldn't, or wouldn't, give him a break. He really wanted to know what kind of guys they were dealing with, but he really didn't feel like having to eat another one of his questions. They really didn't taste very good. Shouldn't his questions have tasted more like pineapple? He snickered slightly at the thought, but regretted it instantly knowing that Lassiter would probably think Shawn was laughing at him.

Shawn and Lassiter both froze when they heard several thumps above their heads, followed by what sounded like a gun being cocked. Makes sense, Shawn thought to himself. They were clearly in a basement, which figured since this room had no windows.

Lassiter, however, seemed to have focused more on the sound of a gun cocking. To be honest, Shawn had too, but he really really didn't want to focus on that. Lassiter stood up and reached towards his holster, only to be reminded that it was empty. He angrily muttered something Shawn couldn't hear, and started to pace around the room.

Shawn wanted nothing more than to sit still. He vaguely remembered someone saying at some point that if people were going to kill you, you should play dead. He snickered at the thought, but was beginning to seriously consider it, mainly because he felt like he was going to pass out. And playing dead sounded better, and not as embarrassing, than passing out. But he got the feeling that it would probably be a good idea to move away from the door. He didn't fell like having it knocked into his head, or being flattened by it if he sat on the wrong side. So, being careful to note which side of the door he could sit on without being turned into a pancake, Shawn scooted over to the side. He really wanted to move further from the door, but he just didn't have the energy to move anymore. At least he wasn't in the door's path any more.

Lassiter stopped pacing right in front of Shawn and opened his mouth, but paused. They both heard it. Gunshots followed by footsteps. Lassiter put a finger to his lip. He motioned for Shawn to move over to where he was. Shawn dragged himself as best he could towards Lassiter, who took up his previous position by the door. Lassiter looked at Shawn and nodded his head towards the door. Shawn nodded back in understanding, though he suddenly realized, he had no idea why they were concerned about people entering the room. Dang, his memory was a mess.

The door opened and slowly at first, before bursting open. Shawn stayed still, prepared to distract however came in until Lassiter could tackle them. He didn't know who he was expecting to come through the door, but whoever it was, it wasn't who did come through the door. Shawn opened his mouth to warn Lassiter, but it was too late.

Lassiter threw himself towards the person who came into the room, successfully knocking them to the ground. It was only after this that, Lassiter realized his mistake. "Guster?"

Gus did his best to push himself up into a sitting position after being roughly knocked to the ground.

Lassiter stood up and reached down to give Gus a hand. Juliet entered the room, "What happened?"

Lassiter looked a bit sheepish, "I may have mistaken Guster for one of our captors and tackled him."

Juliet put a hand to her mouth doing her best to hold back a laugh as both Lassiter and Gus glared at her. She quickly turned her attention to Shawn, who had laid down on his back, "Shawn, are you alright?"

Shawn looked up at her, a dazed look on his face, "Jules?"

Juliet smiled at him, "Yeah, don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here."

Shawn laid his head back on the floor, "That's good, cause I think I might have a concussion. On the bright side, I think I only have a concussion." He squeezed his eyes shut as the throbbing started to pick up again. He tried to open his eyes, but his vision had blurred and was starting to fade. For a moment, he tried to hang on; he knew you were supposed to stay awake when you had a concussion. Then again, if going unconscious meant the throbbing would stop, maybe it was worth it. And that was all it took. Shawn was out.