AN: I don't own Psych or anything that remotely resembles it. I wrote this story for pure fun and do not make any money off of it.

Warning: This story deals with character death and has angst.

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Carlton Lassiter entered his apartment and tossed his keys in the wicker basket on the small table right inside the door. He shrugged off his suit jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. Slipping off his gun and holster he put those on top of the jacket. After that he hobbled into the kitchen looking for something that would help him forget the events of the past week. His left leg was in a cast and he was being forced to use crutches. He found a bottle of scotch in one of the cupboards and poured himself a glass. He headed for the bedroom to change his clothes. The tie around his neck was becoming increasingly tight and he felt like he'd been wearing these clothes for days. He changed clothes and drank his scotch and then collapsed on the bed, mentally and physically exhausted.

He started awake as a noise in the living room woke him up. He stumbled down the hallway and into to the living room wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Shawn Spencer was sitting in a chair in Lassiter's living room looking completely relaxed and normal.

"What the Hell Spencer?" Lassiter barked out half sitting down, half falling onto the couch across from the chair. Spencer had his feet propped up on the coffee table between them. "What are you doing here?" Lassiter asked staring at the psychic detective.

"I just came to see how you were doing." Shawn said tilting his head to one side. "You didn't look so good this afternoon Lassafrass."

"I don't think anyone looked good this afternoon." Lassiter griped. Shawn shrugged. "You know they didn't Spencer. Everyone looked like and felt like Hell." Shawn shrugged again.

"Did you get the case closed with the chief?" He asked changing the subject. Lassiter nodded slowly.

"I put the file on her desk yesterday. We arrested Ortiz and the DA is looking to prosecute to the fullest." He stared at Shawn for a second. "How'd things on your end go?" Shawn laughed.

"C'mon Lassie you would never really ask me that," Lassiter felt hurt that Spencer would think so little of their relationship, as messed up as it was. Shawn seemed to notice and added "but things went okay. Gus didn't take it very well." Lassiter nodded again. He didn't think anyone had taken it well.

"Are you really psychic?" he asked, his inhibitions gone with the glass of scotch coursing through his system. Shawn gave him a smile.

"If I wasn't would we even be having this conversation?" Lassiter got frustrated.

"It's always like this with you Spencer. Nothing is ever serious."

"Life's too short for things to be serious." Shawn countered.

"Is that why you felt the need to interfere with my case on Monday?" Lassiter asked. Shawn shrugged.

"Would you rather I hadn't involved myself with that case?"

"I was the one wearing the vest. You had no protection out there Spencer." Lassiter snapped at him.

"You heard what the forensics people said. It would have pierced the vest like a knife through butter." Shawn said his voice quiet. Lassiter rubbed his face with his hands.

"You still didn't have to," he said just as quietly.

"The world needs you Lassie." Shawn said getting up from his chair and sitting next to Lassiter putting a hand on his shoulder.

"and the world doesn't need you Spencer?" Lassiter looked up at Shawn. His eyes weren't teary yet but his spirit was gone. "You've solved so many damn cases for the SBPD."

"That I helped you on." Shawn added. "What if you weren't here Lassie? Who'd be the one to walk the straight and narrow and arrest all the bad guys? Who would they call when they needed an expert on firearms?"

"Who will they call when there's a case that has them stumped and there doesn't seem to be any evidence?" Lassiter asked.

"You wore a different tie today." Shawn observed not answering Lassiter's question. Lassiter shrugged.

"The normal ones didn't seem appropriate." He mumbled.

"I wouldn't have minded." Shawn stated. "I kind of liked that gold, blue and red one you had a few months back. It was way more interesting than a plain black one. How's your leg feel?"

"Like Hell," Lassiter said realizing he had somehow made it to the living room without his crutches. "but what do you expect when a stupid psychic detective falls on your leg and breaks it." Shawn looked apologetic and the two men lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

"How's Jules doing?" Shawn asked breaking into Lassiter's thoughts. Lassiter shrugged.

"She has her good days and her bad ones. She feels like she never got to explain herself."

"Did she tell you that?" Shawn asked. Lassiter shook his head.

"It's written all over her face whenever you're mentioned." He said. "They gave a flag to your dad too." Shawn nodded.

"I saw that. They did a policeman's funeral with gun salutes and everything." Lassiter gave a forced half laugh.

"You should have seen the way the chief fought for that." He said. "You're going to be missed. You know that right?" Shawn gave Lassiter one of his trademark smiles.

"Yeah, but I think I can leave in peace."

"Why's that?"

"Because you talking to me now just proves what I thought all along, you really do believe I'm psychic."

Lassiter scowled a little at Spencer's effort to see the bright side of things. It was the cheeky ignorance of danger that had gotten Spencer put in harm's way in the first place. Lassiter had been checking out a supposed drug ring with O'Hara and some how Spencer and Guster had found out about it. They'd showed up and when one of the men from the drug ring had taken a shot at Lassiter. Spencer had felt the need to jump in front of Lassiter and shove him out of the way. Lassiter hadn't really realized what was happening until the firing ceased. When the chaos had stopped Lassiter had yelled at Spencer to get off him. He had heard his leg snap when the two men had landed on the ground and it hurt. When Shawn didn't respond Lassiter had pushed at him. That's when he noticed the blood seeping through the fabric of Spencer's plaid shirt. Shawn had been hit right through the heart. The coroner had said it probably killed him instantly which wasn't as comforting as Lassiter thought the coroner had meant it to be. The hard part was telling Shawn's dad. Henry hadn't said a word when Lassiter called him from the hospital after his leg had been set, but when he came to the station to claim Spencer's body things had been rough. It was like all the happiness had been sucked out of the police station. Lassiter had insisted on going back to work the next day hell bent on making sure the charges against Ortiz stuck. All this happened Tuesday. It started raining on Tuesday and never seemed to let up. It was as if the whole world was mourning Spencer's death.

The funeral was Friday and it was still pouring buckets. Lassiter hadn't really been surprised at the number of people that had showed up. Spencer had made a lot of friends and acquaintances through the years. The chief got up and said a few words, Guster had said something, but the real shocker had been when Lassiter himself got up to say something. He hadn't been planning on it, but decided last minute he owed it to Spencer to say something. He got up to the podium and stared out at the crowd sitting before him. Henry had been the only to know he was going to do this and he could see shock in the faces of Guster and O'Hara.

"Shawn Spencer was, at times, a thorn in my side and a pain in my ass," Lassiter started off with earning a few small grins from the front row as they all agreed with him. "but contrary to what he might have thought he was worth more to the department then I gave him credit for. I stand before you today because of Shawn Spencer. There are criminals behind bars because of Shawn Spencer and there are people that walk among us, who were proven innocent because of Shawn Spencer." He cleared his throat and wiped the tears that threatened to leak out the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. "I found myself yesterday looking up every time the door to the police station opened, expecting to see someone I will never see walk through the door again." He paused. "I will miss Shawn Spencer." With that Lassiter hobbled back on his crutches to his seat next to O'Hara. Juliet gave his good leg a small squeeze with her hand, but didn't meet Lassiter's gaze when he looked over at her.

"You still with me Lassifrass?" Spencer's voice asked breaking into Lassiter's daydream. Lassiter blinked and realized he had spaced out.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about this afternoon." He said. Spencer nodded.

"You said a lot of nice things."

"I meant them all." Lassiter said, wanting Spencer to know that he was sincere.

"I know and there are things you didn't say because you didn't want to look too much like an idiot." Shawn said.

"Like what?" Lassiter asked.

"Things like you'll miss my obscure and obscene love for pineapples and their delicious flavor. You'll miss my crazy psychic antics even though all you did for three years was complain about them every chance you got." Lassiter nodded.

"You know what I'll miss the most though?" he asked looking at Spencer. "The nicknames and all stupid things you said to me all the time. I almost cracked a rib suppressing laughter this morning when someone told me they had to get 'something off their chest' and you know why? All I could think of was 'Is it your shirt? Please say no.'" Shawn smiled at Lassiter.

"See you'll just have to do all that by yourself now."

"Am I going crazy?" Lassiter asked.

"I doubt it." Shawn said.

"I'm talking to a dead man in my living room." Lassiter pointed out.

"Yeah, but at least I'm talking back."

"I don't find that comforting." Lassiter said his voice choking up with emotion. "Why you?" he asked. Shawn shrugged.

"You can't imagine why so I don't know the answer."

"It's never going to be the same." Shawn gave Lassiter a crooked smile.

"I know, but life goes on."

"Since when did you start getting all philosophical?"

"When you decided you needed to hear that." Shawn said. "You have to let me go Lassifrass."

"I can't." Lassiter whispered. "What if I can't solve a case? It's not like I can whip out my cell phone and call you now."

"You'll be able to solve the cases Lassie." Spencer said patting Lassiter on the shoulder. With that Lassiter watched as Shawn got fainter and fainter until he was practically see through. "Good-bye Lassie." Shawn said and then corrected himself. "Good-bye Carlton." Lassiter let his head fall back against the couch. It wasn't that he'd never dealt with death before. It was just this death that he was having so many issues with. He sat on the couch for who knows how many hours. When the first rays of sunlight shone through the windows Lassiter realized it was the first time he'd seen the sun since Spencer had been shot.

"Life goes on." Lassiter whispered as he stood up on shaky legs and headed towards the bathroom to shower and change. He was heading to work because crime didn't stop to mourn Shawn Spencer and it was up to Lassiter to make sure no one else had to mourn their thorn in the side, pain in the ass, psychic detective, ever again.