Title: Yin, the Final Battle

Rating: PG

Author: Obi the Kid

Summary: A tag to the Season 5 finale "Yang 3 in 2D". Story takes place a week or so after the events of that episode. Shawn and Gus deal with the lingering after affects of the case that almost killed them.

"Damn it, Gus. Soy milk again, really? I send you to the store…"

"With my money."

"…I explained that to you already. I had to give my extra cash to Jules because she's driving by the pet store today and I asked her to buy some salmon flavored dog treats for the interrogation of that dude they keep arresting who thinks he's a Labradoodle!"

"Shawn, that man is not a Labradoodle."

"He could be. His hair is blonde and slightly curly, and he woke up when I threw the ball to him."

"AT him. You threw the ball at him. You pegged him on the side of his head at close range, Shawn. I'd wake up too."

"Fine. He's not a Labradoodle. But that still doesn't excuse you for continued obsession with soy milk."

"Soy is good for you, Shawn. It's been used for centuries for heart health. It's a key supplement for women dealing with menopause. It's…"

"Unless you've made some changes to your body that I really don't need to know about, I don't think we'll need to worry about that last one. But…whatever. Did you call our new client?"

Burton Guster shuffled through the small stack of papers on his desk, located the green sticky note and placed it on top of the pile. "I did and she's nuts. We are not taking this case, Shawn."

"Gus, we need the money. And she's not nuts, just a little…well…"

"She thinks that a serial killer who kills people by turning them into jack-o-lanterns has taken over her husband's body and created a candlelit dinner for her last night where the candles were made of severed fingers covered with melted candy corn and the meal consisted only of dishes made of raw pumpkin seeds."

"Okay, well, when you say it like that, it does sound a bit farfetched. Probably easy money. We're taking the case."

Tossing the soy milk container back into the fridge, Shawn Spencer then tossed himself backwards into his office chair and rolled across the floor. He came to a stop in front of Gus' desk. Carefully, he took in the appearance of his best friend.

Something was off.

Gus was not quite…Gus.

He'd noticed it before. Actually, there had been something amiss ever since their final encounter with Yin. They were both shaken after that night, having almost died at the hands of the lunatic, but Shawn had begun to believe that he had put it behind him, and figured Gus, always the more stable one in their partnership, had been able to do the same.

Seeing Gus slightly off-center, Shawn was realizing that perhaps things hadn't been as easy as he'd thought.

Realistically, they should both have taken some time off to deal with what had happened. Chief Vick had offered them counseling with the police department psychiatrist. Both turned the offer down, feeling as if the ordeal had been something they could counter on their own.

To the outside world, Gus seemed fine. Even to those that saw him so frequently - Juliet, Lassiter and Shawn's dad, Henry - Gus seemed right. Shawn knew differently, it had just taken him a week to focus on it. Being best friends since the age of five, the pair knew beyond everything about each other. And when it came to Gus' well-being, Shawn was always able to put the silly aside and concentrate on his friend. As he did now.

"What's up, buddy?"

Slightly confused at the question, Gus never allowed his eyes to meet Shawn's as he responded. "Just trying planning the best way to drive my new route."

"Yeah, okay. Ah, no. Something's up. What's going on, Gus?"

"I just told you, Shawn. Gas mileage is important. Have you seen gas prices recently?"

Quickly, Gus flicked a look at Shawn and then just as quickly looked away.

"Dude, you drive a car the size of an acorn. Mileage is not an issue. And why won't you look at me?"

"What do you mean?" Another quick catch of the eye, and Gus averted his gaze again.

"That's what I mean. Look at me."

And once again, Gus did the same fast look rolling his eyes up and around and down.

"I'm not a rotisserie chicken, Gus. Look at me."

Pushing away from his desk, Gus retreated from the interrogation and paced over to the fridge. There he opened the door and stared futilely inside.

"Damn it, Gus, stop it. Okay, I'm calling Chief Vick and getting us hooked up with that shrink of hers."

Those words brought Gus' avoidance to a halt. Finally he met his friend's eyes. "I'm not seeing a shrink, Shawn. I don't want any stranger in my head, especially not one that has been inside Lassiter's head. And besides, there's nothing to dig at anyway."

"Liar."

"What?"

"Your pants are burning flames, man! You can lie to Lassie and Jules and even to my dad, but I can see through every little bit of it."

"There's nothing to see."

"Other than fear, uncertainty, worry, nerves. No, nothing at all. Just keep staring at that soy milk there."

"I'm not scared or uncertain about drinking soy milk, Shawn."

"You may want to rethink that. But! That is such…a story for another time. I'm not talking about soy milk. I'm talking about the whole Yin end-game thing."

"Yin is dead in case you forgot." Gus came to stand close where Shawn still sat in his chair.

"Trust me I haven't forgotten that, but the whole almost-dead thing? Yin putting the drug-filled needle on the surface of your skin while you blurted out your panicked goodbye to me? I know it rattled you. And I know it still does. You're not completely you, Gus."

"Shawn…"

"Gus, just sit down, please. I'm getting neck strain from looking up at you."

"I'm not ready to sit down, Shawn. I need to get something out of the fridge."

"You just did that, come on, man!"

Reluctantly, Gus did eventually move to his desk and to his chair, trying to avoid Shawn's gaze again.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You know damn well what. Gus, this is me, okay? There's no one else here. Talk to me, buddy."

Moments passed. Shawn could see the gears moving slowly. Gus was coming around, reluctantly realizing that he had been hiding from the truth. That he was still terrified about what they'd been through. Focusing his mind on other things this past week, had only pushed the fear to the side, it hadn't eliminated it. His rushed goodbye to Shawn as they sat locked in Yin's grasp. Trying to say so much in so little time as the death-filled needle tipped against his arm. Seeing the disbelief in Shawn's face that their lives – their deep-rooted friendship -would end in such a terror and pain filled way.

Yes, now it was hitting home. Now, Gus knew he was still dealing with the aftermath of the final deadly faceoff with Yin.

He looked over at Shawn. There was no silliness there. No jokes. No condescension. There was only concern.

"Gus. It's me."

Finally, he relented. "Okay, the whole Yin thing has been lingering. I thought I could work past it, chalk it up to another psychopath in the long line of them that we've come across in this job."

Shawn shook his head and wheeled around to Gus' side of the desk, settling inches from his friend.

"But this wasn't just another psychopath. This was the king of all psychopaths. And I fed right into all of his traps and dragged you with me each time. We almost lost everything if not for our last second, do-or-die ramblings, his greed infested need to flaunt his deeds just a bit longer, and then Yang dropping in and tossing the loony-tune daughter angle into the mix. It may have been a bit more than we're used to dealing with.

"He haunts my dreams, Shawn. I thought I was going to die. I was sure of it. I don't know how we made it out of that one alive. But you're right. I'm not dealing with it."

Silence came over the pair for a moment before Shawn continued. "I think I'm in the same boat, buddy. Until today, I thought I had it beaten. But I kept seeing the reminder in you. I've replayed your 'goodbye' rambling in my head a thousand times and, well, I'm still in denial about it - that I was so close to almost seeing you die. I can't deal with that, Gus. I can't deal with even the thought of that happening. And I guess I've been lying to myself about being okay with everything. Hell, I'm not even close to being okay. I just bury it under jokes and meaningless gibberish when the subject comes up, or even when it doesn't."

"You always hide yourself in meaningless gibberish."

Shawn cocked a half smile. "I know, but you're the only one that knows that."

"No, I'm pretty sure anyone who has met you knows it."

"What I meant was that you're the only one who knows the real depth of it, except maybe my dad. But we can't talk about those things without a fight breaking out." Shawn stopped for a second to huff out a disbelieving laugh. Then, "Jeez, I start out trying to get you to spill the beans and I end up in a pile of them myself. Good dietary fiber sure, but maybe…maybe we both should talk to someone about this."

Pondering the suggestion, Gus nodded his agreement several long seconds later. "You think Chief Vick's offer of seeing the police shrink is still on the table?"

"If not, I'm sure we can harass her into getting us a free session." Shawn patted his friend on the knee, and then became serious again. "She'll allow it. I'm sure. We're okay, Gus. We are. And now that we know that Yin is gone for good, once we shake this completely, we'll be good to go."

"What about Juliet?"

Shawn raised an eyebrow, not having considered that side of things. He grinned though and shook his head. "No Jules. This is between me and you, buddy. And the shrink of course, but that's a given. Unless he doesn't subscribe to that whole doctor-patient privilege thing, in which case, we…"

"Shawn."

"Me and you, Gus. I promise. Come on, we'll stop by that place that has the fries quatro queso dos fritos and eat ourselves silly before we head downtown. No one should ever see a shrink on an empty stomach."

They stood in unison. Gus grabbed his jacket and tossed the other to Shawn. "That's true. Statistics show that 85.3 percent of people who visit psychiatrists, do so on an empty stomach, and 78.6 percent of them are found completely insane by the end of the session."

"National Inquirer?"

"You know that's right."

Leaving the Psych office, they strolled towards the tiny car they'd affectionately named the Blueberry. Shawn bounced several times on his feet calling out, "Ooh, ooh! Shotgun!"

"Shawn, you can't call shotgun when there are only two people riding in the car."

"Can so. Just did."

"Cannot."

"Can so. Infinity!"

"You can't call infinity for a shotgun argument."

"Can so. Just did."

"Shawn!"

The pair bantered on, sharing a friendship so few could claim and more than a few could be jealous of. Shawn was certain they'd both be okay and was glad that the trust between them ran into unfathomable depths.

If even an ounce of that trust had been misplaced during this ordeal, neither would have ever been able to leave Yin behind…for good.

The end.