This is the first chapter of a story I'm in the process of writing. However, I'm really not sure about how this first portion reads. Thus, I have posted it on here to see what y'all think of how this is. It's written very differently than anything I've done with a Psych story before. I am working on the story, but it is a decent way from being finished. I am going to try and get this done soon, but it may be awhile before this continues. Please leave a review with your opinion, even, and perhaps especially, if it's a poor opinion. Please point out the faults of this and let me know ways it could be better. The more you can tell, the better the finished product will be. Also, if you want to throw out ideas and thoughts on how the rest of the story may go, please tell me. I'd love to hear where y'all think this may go and what y'all would like to see happen. Please enjoy.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Shawn Spencer."

These were the words that should have seemed simple. Typical words in their line of work. Yet the implications behind them dug its way into them and shattered their worlds in different ways.

These were the words that Lassiter wanted more than anything to say. To hiss them into the culprit's ear as he slammed him up against a wall and snapped handcuffs on him, trying to make him feel the immense pain he had caused.

These were the words that Juliet could never say, or hear. She could never confirm it. Just the thought that he was gone made her blood run cold. To think that she would never see him again, or hear his cheery voice come ringing through the halls. To hear him make his quips and jokes. To flirt endlessly with her as she just as endlessly turned him down.

These were the words that Gus refused to acknowledge. Because they weren't true. They couldn't be true. There was no way that Shawn had gone out like that. He had always feared that Shawn would go before him, but he wasn't supposed to actually go and do it. He wasn't supposed to give a speech at his best friend's funeral. And as long as he didn't acknowledge it, that meant there was still hope, right? At least, that's what Shawn would say.

These were the words that Henry Spencer would never say. He planned on meeting his son's killer. He planned on looking him in the eye. He planned on saying something. And he planned on only one of them walking away from that meeting. And for the first time in his life, Henry Spencer didn't give a crap about the system.

Somehow, the news hadn't been a shock. Maybe because it hadn't happened all at once. They'd received word of the explosion down on 5th. Juliet and Lassiter had been on the scene almost immediately, with Gus close behind. That's when they'd found his motorcycle. There had still been some hope. Then they'd found the charred remains of his cell phone. Still, Gus and Juliet had clung to the tiny sliver of hope that remained. Lassiter had watched his partner, debating between not feeding her false hope but crushing her spirit, and promising her comfort she may never get. He settled on cursing Spencer under his breath, and threatening him that he better come back so the look on O'hara's face would leave, and so he could make him pay for it being there in the first place.

The final nail in the coffin had been John Doe. They'd all held the suspicion, but their fears had been confirmed when the report came back. It was Shawn, there was no doubt. Not only that, but the fire hadn't killed him. He had been shot and stabbed before that. Juliet had finally given in, but Gus had held on, delusionally believing that it could still be a game. That any second now, Shawn would come waltzing in, laughing about how he'd gotten them. And sure, there would be a long line of people waiting to kill him for it, but at least he'd be alive for them to kill him.

No one had spoken to Henry.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. If you would leave a review and give me your thoughts on the story that would be amazing. Again, thank you so much for reading this. Y'all rock!