Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or its characters, etc.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Everything was blurry when he opened his eyes. He looked around, trying to identify his surroundings. It was a nondescript off-white room with a clock and a small black and white television set up in the corner. Something beeped steadily in the background. The room went dark for a moment, but before he had time to panic, he realized he had just blinked. Sheepishly, he glanced down and saw that he was on a small sterile-looking bed. Oh…hospital, he realized. He groaned as his head throbbed suddenly.

"Gus?" Shawn's face came into view above him, looking relieved. "Oh good, you're awake."

"Wh-what happened?"

"You don't remember?" The relief changing to worry, Shawn turned to the nurse, who Gus hadn't even noticed. "Is that normal?"

The nurse came closer to check on Gus. "Just a side-effect. He'll be as good as new soon enough." Directing her attention to Gus, she explained that he only had a mild concussion and would be able to leave soon. Once she had left, Shawn recounted the events of the day to his friend.

"We were working on a case—the one with the waitress…do you remember that?"

Gus tried to think, ignoring the persistent pain in his head. "Yeah…we went to question her boss at his house and…"

"He knocked you out," Shawn filled in guiltily when it became apparent that Gus couldn't continue.

Gus glared at him. "I told you we should have called the Chief!"

"But if we'd—wait," Shawn paused mid-sentence. "You remember!"

"Oh…" Gus lost track of what he had been saying as he struggled to go over what had happened. The memories started to return in bits and pieces.

Excitedly, Shawn began grabbing the meager possessions around them, reverting to his usual hyperactive state.

"What are you doing?" Gus asked, inspecting his head carefully with his hand.

"Getting ready to go, of course," Shawn responded cheerily. "You must be okay if you're remembering things again, right?"

"Shawn, I'm sure I have to stay here for—ow—" he winced as his fingers came into contact with the sore spot. "—Observation or something. Just in case."

His friend pouted, shoulders drooping visibly. Opening his mouth to say something, Shawn looked carefully at Gus once more before deciding against whatever he had been planning on saying. "Yeah…okay. I guess I'll go then. I was going to meet Hannah—"

"The waitress?" Gus interjected. He shook his head, used to his friend's activities.

"Right," Shawn acknowledged. "But then you weren't waking up so I was gonna cancel on her, except now you're okay and apparently you're staying here, so--"

"Go, go," Gus interrupted. "You're giving me a headache anyway."

"Sorry," Shawn said as he backed towards the doorway.

"Watch out for the—" Gus started, putting a hand up in warning. Shawn bumped into the table by the door, shaking it and causing the clock to fall to the floor.

"—clock," Gus finished.

"Oops." Shawn crouched down and picked up the clock, looking it over briefly and then returning it to its place on the table. "See ya," he waved as he stepped out.

"Shawn?" Gus stopped him.

"Yeah?" Shawn turned back questioningly.

"Thanks," Gus said softly. "For waiting."

"Sure," Shawn smiled. "See you tomorrow."

Gus nodded and waved goodbye. When Shawn had left, he let his head fall back to the pillow. His head really was beginning to pound in the first signs of what would probably end up being a massive migraine. He closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep it off. As he drifted off, images flickered in his mind. Cars and flowers, car flowers, flower cars. Reds and greens and yellows, and a dark blue that didn't quite fit in. He fell asleep smiling at the colors.

0o0o0o0o0o

The next morning, he woke up later than he did customarily. He shrugged it off as his body's way of telling him he needed to recover. After picking at the meager hospital food offered for breakfast, he called Shawn to come get him. The nurse had informed him that he seemed to be fine, but to let them know if the headaches got worse. As soon as Shawn arrived, they checked out; Gus was eager to get some real food, as he was feeling hungrier than usual. They hurried down the steps and headed towards the parking lot. As Shawn chattered away, Gus smiled at the sight of a young girl standing on tiptoes to examine the plants within the huge decorative flower plots that marked the entrance to the hospital. A light breeze blew around them, carrying mixed outdoorsy smells with it.

Gus was about to continue walking when something clicked in his mind. For the first time in his life he realized what people meant when they described something that had happened in slow motion. He turned at what seemed like an agonizing pace, his gaze sliding back towards the girl. A moment later, he heard the squeal of tires and saw a blur of color out of the corner of his eye. Deaf to Shawn's questioning shout, he pushed off the cement, sprinting at what seemed like a snail's pace towards the girl. As soon as he reached her, he took hold of her waist and lifted the shrieking child into the air. Bending his knees and shoving his feet against the ground again, he leapt out of the way mere seconds before a dark blue SUV crashed into the cement wall of the flower plot, right where the girl had been standing. There were screams from around him, but Gus barely heard them. His head was throbbing as though someone had hit him with a hammer. He had just enough time to put the girl down carefully before the headache became overwhelming. Wavering, he toppled sideways, the scene around him fading into darkness as he fell.

0o0o0o0o0o

"Gus? Gus?"

Gus was wrenched into consciousness by the sound of his friend's panicked voice and slight sting of being slapped on the cheek.

"Gus!" Shawn's relief was evident. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Gus mumbled, getting a distinct feeling of déjà vu. He squinted up at the face directly above him. Shawn's forehead was wrinkled in worry.

"You pulled the girl out of the way, remember? Then you just fell!"

"Oh." Gus was silent for a moment. The memory returned, and he tried to sit up suddenly.

"Whoa," Shawn said, stopping him. "Are you crazy? Don't move."

"The girl!" Gus exclaimed.

"She's fine," Shawn reassured him. "How did you know that car was coming? I didn't even see that!"

"I—" Gus thought about it. "I don't know…the flowers. She was looking at the flowers, and…"

"And?" Shawn prodded, when he didn't continue.

Gus winced as his head began to pound again. "My head--"

"The doctors are coming," Shawn told him, concern lacing his voice.

Gus noticed that there was a small crowd surrounding them. His eyes fell upon the little girl he had rescued, her hand now held tightly by a balding man in a worn grey suit. Seeing that Gus was looking, the man stepped forward.

"Thank you so much," the man said fervently, shaking his head in amazement. "If you hadn't--"

"Don't mention it," Gus managed an embarrassed smile as he waved his hand dismissively.

Two men arrived with a stretcher, and the crowd finally dispersed as they lifted Gus onto it and started to roll him away. Shawn stood up and followed closely, keeping a hand on the stretcher, near Gus's shoulder.

After several standard tests, the doctors told Gus that they could find nothing wrong with his head. They could try some more intensive methods if the headaches continued, but they did not want to cause any unnecessary complications. Shawn sat nearby, uncharacteristically silent, as all of the information was relayed. "You okay?" Gus asked wearily, after the doctors had left and his friend still hadn't said anything.

"Yeah," Shawn said, a little too quickly.

"Don't blame yourself," Gus told him.

"But it's my fault you were knocked out in the first place!" Shawn blurted.

"True," Gus acknowledged.

"Thanks," Shawn said sarcastically.

Gus hid a grin. After a moment, Shawn opened his mouth again. "Nah," Gus said.

"What?" Shawn gazed at him in confusion.

"What?"

"You just said 'nah'," Shawn told him.

"Oh." Gus paused. "Didn't you--?"

"I didn't say anything." Shawn squinted his eyes as he thought. "What did you think I said?"

"Nothing," Gus answered.

"Then why did you--?"

"All right, all right, I thought you asked if I wanted anything," Gus said, irritated by what was starting to feel like an interrogation.

Shawn's eyes widened. "That is what I was going to say," he said slowly.

Gus shrugged.

"Doesn't that seem weird to you?" Shawn asked.

"Not really," Gus said. "It just seemed obvious that that's what you said—or were going to say—whatever."

"Out of ALL the possible things I could have said?!" Shawn threw his arms up. "I could have said…well, anything!"

"Like what?" Gus replied shrewdly. "How are you, are you okay, I'm bored…"

Shawn frowned at him. "Maybe I was going to say 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.'"

Gus raised an eyebrow.

"You never know!" Shawn exclaimed.

"What's your point?" Gus asked calmly.

Shawn put both of his hands behind his back. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Gus stared at him in surprise. "Wow…non sequitur much?"

Shawn looked back blankly. "Was that English?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "Never mind. What are you doing?"

"Holding up my fingers and waiting for you to tell me how many," Shawn answered cheekily.

"But why?" Gus asked. "Unless you really are just that bored…"

"I'm testing a theory," Shawn said. "Just tell me."

Gus sighed. "Fine, three. Happy?"

"No," Shawn rebuked him. "You're guessing. I want you to tell me."

"Shawn, I--"

"Gus!" Shawn interrupted impatiently.

Seeing that Shawn was being serious, for once in his life, Gus thought to himself, he did as his friend asked. As he concentrated on the fingers he could not see, he randomly got the feeling that it was six. Going with it, he told Shawn, who, upon hearing the number, went slightly pale.

"Okay, what about now?"

"You mean I was right?" Gus asked, surprised.

Shawn nodded. "Do it again."

Gus concentrated, as he had before. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as the feeling appeared again, bringing with it a different number. "Ten." It wasn't a guess. His head started to hurt a little.

Shawn gaped. "And now?"

The feeling came quicker, easier this time. "Two." The headache was coming back.

They went on for several minutes before his head started pounding too painfully for him to continue. He had not missed one number.

0o0o0o0o0o

Shawn returned the next day, having been kicked out by both Gus and the nurses the night before. Gus stared warily at the huge bag his friend had with him. "You'll see," Shawn said, before Gus had a chance to ask what was in it.

"Now who's psychic," Gus muttered.

Shawn reached into the bag and then put his hand behind his back again, making sure that Gus didn't see what he had picked up. "Ready for Round Two?" Shawn asked.

Gus sighed, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Fine."

"All right, what am I holding?"

Gus concentrated, as he had before. It was harder this time – it came in steps rather than as one answer. "Is it…red?" he asked. Shawn nodded. Gus squinted at Shawn as though it would somehow help him to see the object better. Now he was getting the colors black and silver. And a shape…round. More than one round thing. Putting everything together logically, Gus ventured a guess. "Red car?"

Shawn brought his hand from behind his back and held the toy out for Gus to see. He was looking at Gus strangely, so Gus avoided meeting his eyes. "I didn't actually see the car," he admitted. After telling Shawn how he had deducted what the object was, they practiced with several more objects from the bag. He was just starting to get better at seeing the object in question as a whole when his head began to throb again.

Shawn watched him worriedly. "We can stop," he offered, his voice revealing that he obviously didn't want to.

To be perfectly honest, Gus didn't particularly want to stop either – this was getting more and more interesting. "Just give me a few minutes," he told his friend. "I'll be fine."

By the end of the day, Gus had gotten good enough that he could name the object before Shawn had even finished taking it out of the bag. The headaches seemed to come most often when he was trying something new, or when he had gone too long without a break. Once he got accustomed to a certain task, it got easier.

Shawn volunteered to subject himself to hospital food for dinner, and they ate silently, pondering the discoveries of the day. Gus played with the remaining food on his plate, pushing it around with his fork. Finally, he said in a small voice, "Do you think—"

Shawn glanced at him and hesitated slightly before nodding. "I think you really are—"

They both paused, not quite ready to say the word and admit it.

"Can you quit your other job now?" Shawn asked with a grin.

"No," Gus said shortly. He hid a smile at the disappointed look on Shawn's face. "Even if I am…psychic," he flinched at the word, "I still need a decent job that pays well."

Now that it was out in the open, it wasn't going away. "How weird is that?" Shawn said in disbelief. "I pretend to be psychic and you end up being the real one."

"I wish it was you," Gus admitted. "It doesn't really fit me, you know?"

"Burton Guster, Psychic," Shawn said in an official-sounding voice, moving his hands exaggeratedly in the shape of a plaque.

Gus grabbed Shawn's arm suddenly. "You'd better not tell anyone about this."

"What?" Shawn exclaimed in surprise. "Why not?"

"Are you kidding?" Gus hissed. "If anyone found out about this, my reputation would be ruined."

"Your reputation as what?" Shawn inquired. "A pharmaceutical salesman?"

"Yes," Gus said, completely serious.

Shawn started to argue, and then stopped as an idea came to him.

Gus watched him uneasily. "Stop looking so happy, it's creepy."

Shawn ignored him. "This is gonna be awesome! Now we'll be able to solve even more cases!" He grabbed at Gus excitedly. "We'll never be wrong!"

"Shawn, I don't know how to control this thing. All I've done so far is correctly guess how many fingers you hold up and what kind of toys you're hiding behind your back."

"And you saved that little girl!"

Oh yeah. He had almost forgotten about that. Gus sighed. Just when he had started to adjust to this new schedule, life had to throw another doozy his way.

"Don't you want to help people?" Shawn asked earnestly.

Now that just wasn't playing fair. Gus wiped a hand across his face resignedly. How could he say no? He gave in. "Of course, Shawn."

"So you'll do it?" Shawn said, almost holding his breath.

Gus wondered briefly what he was getting himself into. "Yes," he replied. He held up a hand before Shawn could say anything. "But there are going to be rules."

Shawn groaned.

Gus glared at him. "One: I will not be doing any ridiculous spasms or falsetto voices. Two: You stay the official 'psychic' – I'll feed you whatever information I get. And Three: I will absolutely, under no circumstances whatsoever, use my powers to help you find dates. Got it?"

Shawn's face fell at the last one, but he cheered up immediately. Holding his hand out, they bumped fists. "Hells to the yeah!" Jumping forward, he then grabbed Gus in a rib-crushing hug. "This is going to be awesome!"

As Shawn held him, and he attempted to keep breathing, the scene in front of Gus changed completely. He could still feel Shawn, and he knew that logically, he was still in the hospital, but the view in front of him now was as realistic as it could get. He was in the police station, watching Lassiter work at his desk. He was just wondering if the vision could possibly get any more boring when Shawn showed up. His friend exchanged a cautious glance with Lassiter before heading down the hallway that led to the interrogation rooms. After a moment, Lassiter peered around to see if anyone was watching, and then headed off in the same direction. Gus felt the arms around him draw away, and the vision left at the same time, leaving him back in the hospital bed. Shawn was looking at him expectantly, as though waiting for an answer.

Gus shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Shawn began to speak, but Gus spaced out, thinking about the vision he had just gotten, and wondering what it meant. After missing Shawn's words for a second time, Gus apologized, explaining that he was just tired. Shawn seemed to accept this, and left Gus for the night, promising to come back again the next day. Gus hardly thought that needed saying.

Thoughts about the vision kept him awake for several hours, but he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, he woke with a start and sat up as an idea occurred to him. He waited impatiently for Shawn to arrive so that he could test it. When Shawn finally showed up, Gus wasn't sure whether he should explain his idea right away or test it first. Deciding that Shawn would probably guess that something was up as soon as he tried it, he opted for the first choice. To a point, that is. He simply said that he wanted to test a theory, and he promised to explain everything to Shawn afterwards. Shawn agreed quickly, although Gus could tell that he was practically dying of curiosity. Gus took the offered hand, and, for good measure, held it with both of his. Nothing happened. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on Shawn and thought about the vision from yesterday. Several minutes went by in complete silence before Shawn got impatient.

"Is anything happening?"

Gus opened his eyes and frowned in annoyance as his concentration was broken. "Shawn, I told you to stay quiet."

"Sorry, man," Shawn apologized. "It's just hard to stay still for this long without even talking."

"I know," Gus said. "But could you try, please?"

"Fine," Shawn grumbled. "But this better be good."

Gus let his eyes shut again, and tried to concentrate. This time, the feeling came quickly. It was like the one he had gotten when he had been able to guess the number of fingers Shawn was holding up, but it was on a much larger scale. A scene appeared in front of him as though his eyes were wide open, and he was there, once again. It was still the police station, and the same scene played out in front of him. This time, however, it was not cut off. Gus held Shawn's hand tightly and squeezed, letting his friend know that something was going on. Concentrating back on the picture in his mind, he found that he could will himself to follow Shawn and Lassiter down the hallway. He turned a corner and realized then that, of all the possible things he might have expected to see, this had definitely not been on the list. He pulled out hurriedly, dropping Shawn's hand as though it had burned him.

"What?" Shawn said, puzzled, as Gus stared at him.

"You…uh," Gus wondered how much he should say. What if this was just some sort of hallucination and it wasn't even real? That certainly seemed more likely than the possibility that what he had seen would actually come true. "I…I think I had a vision," Gus told Shawn slowly.

"Really?" Shawn looked at him eagerly. "What happened? Is it the future? What's it about?"

"I don't know how much I should say," Gus said honestly.

"Why?" Shawn started to protest. "It doesn't matter if…wait…" Comprehension crossed his face. "It's about me, isn't it?"

Gus nodded.

"Is it bad?" Shawn asked.

Gus hesitated. "I guess that depends on how you define bad."

"Do I die?"

"Shawn!" Gus glared at him. "You dying falls under the category of bad!"

"Just checking. Okay…" Shawn pursed his lips in thought. After less than a minute, he threw his arms up in surrender. "I give up! What happens?"

Gus shifted uneasily. "I don't know if I should say…"

"Oh come on, Gus! Don't be a paranoid old seer! You're not going to mess with the cosmos or something by telling me!"

"How do you know?" Gus said quickly, slightly worried by the prospect.

Shawn looked at him as though he had just revealed that he still believed in the existence of Wilting Flower.

Gus conceded. "All right, all right. It had to do with…Lassiter. Uh…you and Lassiter."

"Aw man, is he gonna throw me up against a wall again?" Shawn complained. "My shoulder hurt for days after that last time."

"Actually…uh…you're the one that's going to throw him against a wall." Gus felt himself flush.

"What?" Shawn exclaimed. "I know I mess with Lassy a lot, but I'm not completely crazy!" Eyeing Gus, he quickly said, "No comments from the peanut gallery. I wouldn't risk a lawsuit. Let alone the possibility of getting shot."

Gus scratched his head nervously. "I don't think you're going to have to worry about either of those happening."

"Really?" Shawn said, puzzled. "Why not?" His gaze sharpened. "What aren't you telling me? Just spit it out, buddy. It can't be that bad."

"I'm going to have to disagree," Gus said. He took a deep breath before continuing. "The vision…" he paused to clear his throat. "The vision was of you and Lassiter…" he rubbed a hand across his eyes as he remembered. "It was of you and Lassiter making out," he finally said, forcing the words out in a rush.

"What?!" Shawn exclaimed.

"Don't you dare make me say it again," Gus told him.

Shawn stood up from the chair he had been sitting on next to the bed and started to pace around the room. "Seriously?" he inquired finally, turning back to face Gus.

Gus nodded silently.

"Wow. Lassiter. Me and Lassiter. Lassiter and me. Making out. Me and Lassiter." Shawn rambled as he processed the information. "So does this mean that it's definitely going to happen?" he questioned Gus. "Since you saw it? Or is that just one possibility?"

"How should I know? You're the expert in psychic stuff," Gus said.

"Yeah, but you're the real psychic," Shawn replied.

"As of, like, a day ago," Gus reminded him.

"Right." Shawn sat back down in the chair, but his foot kept tapping a steady rhythm against the floor as he bounced his leg nervously.

"What are you going to do?" Gus asked.

"I…I don't know," Shawn said, still slightly bewildered. "I mean, this is Lassiter we're talking about. Hardcore, hates me, Head Detective Lassiter. And he was married! To a woman!"

"Was," Gus emphasized. "I wonder why they separated…"

"You don't think…" Shawn started.

Gus shrugged.

They sat in heavy silence for a few minutes before Shawn jumped up again. "I've gotta go." He was already halfway out the door before Gus had a chance to react.

"Go? Go where? Shawn!" Gus shouted after him.

To Be Continued…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o