This was intended to be a halloween fic but I never uploaded it so now I am. A little dark and little humor. Major character death. Be warned. Scary and bloody.

I do not own Psych or Supernatural.

Not Another Ghost Story

Shawn held the gun in front of him and poked Dean in the back. Dean turned around, his face full of fury, and made a hissing noise through his teeth that may have been interpreted as," Shawn! This is definatly not the time." But Shawn just grinned and looked at Sam who rolled his eyes.

"So what is the story on this place again?" Shawn whispered. Sam leaned down to the much shorter man to talk to him.

"Castiel called from this house, this exact location, about three weeks ago. Now Dean Can't summon him." Sam said. They had been on many missions with Shawn since 2005. Shawn had found out their secret and had to promise to call them if anything came up, and to keep them a secret. This normally went somewhat like Shawn finding something supernatural, then getting in too deep, then calling the brothers. This time they came to him.

"And he didn't tell me he was here? I miss Castiel. He is so funny." Shawn grinned and Dean turned around and gave him an, are you on crack, look.

"Are we talking about the same Castiel?" Sam asked, skeptically.

"Sure, it was dry humor, but it was very humorous to talk to him." Shawn nodded. Dean shoved the barell of Shawn's gun down and away from his chest.

"Cas had the humor of a piece of wood." Dean said then his eyebrows drew down and he shook his head," Actually a piece of wood is funnier..." Dean smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Can we please get back to the case here, guys?" Sam asked.

"So what do you know about this place, Shawn?" Dean asked, turning back around and searching the hallway in front of them with a flashlight. There were medical beds and wheelchairs and desks cluttered all over like an overgrown child had thrown a fit and tossed all of the room's contents into the dusty hallway then spiders had taken over from there. Occassionally the darkness was cut up by the full moon's light breaking through the very tiny and few windows.

"This was an insane asylum about seventy years ago. They shut it down because it wasn't large enough for the amount of crazies they held, and most of them were concidered misdiagnosed anyway and released. Just before it was shut down twenty of the patients started brawling and none survived. They killed the youngest member in the asylum and it is said she still roams the halls." Shawn shivered, suddenly aware of where he was, or was it something else?

"Well, it isn't just her that's wandering these halls." Sam stated," Place is orbing like crazy and my flashlights keep going out. They are trying to use the energy to manifest themselves. Dean, shut off your flashlight and Shawn, turn off your cell." Sam instructed.

"Don't want any baddies manifesting themselves." Shawn muttered, taking his neon green psych phone out and unlocking it. Suddenly the phone went blank and shut off after informing him battery power was low," Not good." Shawn muttered.

"Shawn, Sam, Down!" Dean shouted. The two dropped to the ground, Shawn screaming like a small wounded animal, and Dean shot the rock salt loaded rifle," Geeze. Two from the little power in your phone. Shawn, you are never allowed to bring that to hauntings again."

"Dean, what did they look like?" Sam asked, as he lifted Shawn up to his feet by the elbows.

"Thanks man. That was enough for me. Who is up for tacos?" Shawn huffed as he brushed the dust off himself.

"One was a woman with slim body and red hair up in a bun and a nursing outfit." Dean said, running a hand through his hair.

"That was the nurse that died protecting her crazy lover. He was young. One of the patients. In his twenties, but thin like he had never been well fed." Shawn said, leaning over to look at the desk on the floor.

"Yeah. That's what the other one looked like. Skinny and young and he had a head wound." Dean nodded," Good thing Shawn poked me in the back again or I would have never seen them."

"I didn't poke you. Do Ghosts leave handprints in dust?" Shawn asked,turning his head to the side and looking at a handprint in the dust on the desk.

"I guess they could but it would be a waist to manifest just to touch a desk." Sam scoffed.

"I actually don't think that was it's intention. I knocked it over as I went to the ground. I didn't see it but as I went down I punched it to save the life of my two best buddies and got a boot to the chest." Shawn nodded to the desk and grinned.

"No you didn't. You screamed like a little girl and flung your arm up to catch yourself as you fell to the floor in a panic." Dean laughed, his teeth flashing in the moonlight.

"Fine! My arm flung out and hit something very solid, very silky, a little plush and warm. His boot also was very real as it kicked me in the chest." Shawn smiled at Dean then wiped his face clear of emotion and tried to match Dean's face as he looked behind the desk.

"Ghosts are not warm, Shawn." Sam chided.

"I know. Nor are they plush or very sharply dressed...most of the time." He looked up as if calculating something in his head then nodded shook himself out of it." I have been on enough missions to know at least that. That means..." He started to move past the desk and through the rubbish and nodded," He or she, but I would prefer he so Sam doesn't get distracted," This earned him a really nasty look from Sam and a chuckle from Dean,"... fell here, turned over and in the noise of the gunshot moved over to the wall and went through it." Shawn nodded and knelt down on one knee, touching the wall.

"I do not get distracted. Dean does." Sam argued," I thought you said this he or she was very real, how did Dean not see him? And how did he go through a wall?" Sam asked.

"The only light comes from that window that doesn't reach any of the path he took. He was right up on top of us. Dean walked right past 'em." Shawn ran his hand along the wall, breathing softly through his mouth, making an almost silent Aha noise.

"So how did he get through the wall so fast?" Dean asked, crossing his arms," If this is another one of your stories to try to make yourself look big and bad I will kick your..." Dean was cut off when Shawn pushed on the wall and fell in and was enveloped in darkness. Shawn screamed and his voice faded as he fell down a chute of some kind.

"Shawn! Shawn!" Sam yelled.

"Sammy! It's alright. There's a very comfortable bed down here. I think this is the most fluffy thing I have ever landed on. I can't see a thing but based of the cross breeze coming from in front of me, there must be a door leading outside, nearby." Shawn shouted up the chute.

"Watch out for ghosts. I'll send an EMF detector and a voice recorder. Work your way to the door, but crawl so you have less space to fall if you're hit." Sam ordered," And never call me Sammy!" He shouted. He had gotten to the point he didn't care that his brother and friend called him that, but old habits.

Shawn felt the EMF detector land nearby and a flashlight hit him in the head as it flew down the chute," Go outside and wait for me. I'll turn my GPS on when I get out." Shawn shouted, then started to crawl the direction of the breeze.

He didn't dare use the light, so no ghost could manifest itself and leave him to defend himself in the dark. He suddenly felt chilled and could touch his breath, the air had become so thick. Why did he always do this? Why did he have to go with the brothers on these dumb missions that could kill him anyday? What would Juliet think if he died here? Would she arrest Dean? Sam? Would she be mad at him for going away with two ghost hunters that Gus didn't even trust? All the cockyness and funnyness he normally exhibited to hide his fear, was gone. He had no one to perform for. No one to fool into thinking he wasn't terrified.

His head slammed into a wall and he grabbed it, putting his forhead on the ground, closing his eyes against the pain. Had he been crawling fast enough to plow into something that hard? He looked up and saw a sliver of light. He ran his hand up the sliver until he found a doorknob. He touched it and yelped in pain. The doorknob was red hot. There was a noise behind him and he spun. The EMF started going nuts in his hand. He turned it off and flattened hmiself against the door that seemed to be breathing now. He felt something cold on his face and turned it to the side and lowered himself to the floor. He turned on the voice recorder and started recording, speaking in a shakey voice as he sat pressed close to the door, his head turned and eyes closed, like it mattered if they were open or not.

"Hello." Shawn said, his voice barely a whisper," I am Shawn Spencer. What is your name?" He asked. Suddenly he felt air on his face again and heard a faint voice.

"Ste...hurt..." The voice said. He stopped the recording and played it back, the volume loud so he could make out what it said,"Steaphany. I'm hurt." He heard a gasp pf surprize.

"Oh. Do you like that you can hear yourself?" He asked, turning the recorder back on.

"Yes." The ghost spoke.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Shawn asked.

"No..." The voice faded. Shawn took a small device out of his pocket and turned it on.

"Steaphany, use this device. Take some energy and speak to me." He said, still shaking. He could tell she was still there.

"Outside door. Angel in danger. We were summoned by evil thing." She told him. It was definatly a she. Shawn still couldn't turn his head to face her or open his eyes.

"You mean... Castiel the Angel is on the other side of this door?" He asked her, sweat running down his face and off the tip of his nose, even though he was shivering with cold.

"Yes." She answered.

"You were summoned? What for?" Shawn asked, gasping with fear. He knew she wasn't malicious, but he hated ghosts. Could deal with Demons. Even kind of liked some Werewolves, before they turned into bloodthirsty killers of the night. Despised Vampires. They creeped him out.

"I don't know." Suddenly the air became colder. Shawn could feel the moisture in the air freezing on his face and hair," The others..." The voice faded and Shawn squeezed his eyes shut tighter and took his GPS out and turned it on, hopeing the brothers could find him before the ghosts took all the power out of it. He felt a large hand around his throat and was lifted to his feet and off the ground.

"You." He gasped," Must have been huge in life. I mean big and scary. Lady killer." He tried to pry the fingers from his throat but his own fingers only met his own skin and thin, cold air.

"Shawn?" He heard the muffled voices of the others on the other side of the door and started kicking over and over so his heels hit the door behind him. He could feel the grip on his throat loosen. He felt a breeze and as soon as he was dropped, he rolled over his right shoulder and then dropped flat as somthing smashed through the door. He could see the shadows of the brothers as the light flooded the room from outside and they jumped ouot of it's way. Shawn covered his pale eyes from the moonlight.

Sam saw the door slice in half and burst out at them. He jumped to one side and covered his face, but not before he got a chunk of wood across one cheek. He landed and felt chunks of the wooden door hit his legs and back. He took a deep breath and turned over, sitting up.

"Dean?" He asked. Dean lifted himself to his hands and knees then sat back on his knees, his back to Sam. There was definatly blood running down the right side of his face from his hairline.

"I'm alright. Get Shawn." The moment Sam moved her felt a gust of wind and saw the two most horrible green eyes before he was slammed into the wall to his right, caught, and thrown into the wall to his left.

Dean Turned and was on his feet in one motion, aiming the gun at the woman that was kicking Sam's butt. Sam landed on the ground and she grabbed him by the hair and Dean shot her with the salt rifle. She screamed as she dissapated but there was another one coming through the door in the next instant. This time the shot came from the doorway.

Shawn was on his knees, squinting into the moonlight, holding Sam's rifle. Sam had dropped it when the door opened. He slowly stood and pointed the gun to his left and right then dropped it and leaned on the doorway, panting.

"You look like crap." Dean grinned.

"You have... a little... something on your face..." Shawn huffed.

"Sam. You alright?" Dean asked, stepping forward. Sam stirred then shook the dust from his hair, sitting slowly up on his knees.

"I'm good. Shawn, you look like crap." Sam groaned. Shawn lay his head back on the doorway and glanced at Sam.

"You look like a woman just beat the crap out of you." He breathed heavily.

"Because one just did." Dean grinned.

"She was, how tall you think?'" Shawn asked Dean.

"I'd say five four at most." Dean said, grin spreading.

"I would have said four five at most." Shawn groaned and doubled over then grabbed his head.

"Are you alright, little buddy?" Dean asked, putting a hand on Shawn's back.

"I told you next time you called me little buddy I would eat Juliet's pie all by myself, agh! and ugh, I would destroy your matalica cassette." Shawn breathed sharply. then doubled over as if something hit him in the gut. Then his head flew back and smashed into the doorframe as a shape manifested in front of him,

"Down, Shawn!" Dean yelled. Shawn let himself slump to the floor, where he saw the single white feather before the rock salt evaporated the ghost and srayed his face as it ricocet off the wall. He turned his head away from the sting and gasped when the pain laced through his midsection. He looked down to the bruise spreading across his hip from the punch.

"Why are these things so strong and so plentyful? It's like Nerds at comicon and I'm George Lucas." He sighed and looked around," there was a ghost in there that said she was summoned and that Castiel was beyond this door." The small patio they sat under was cast in moonlight but the trees blocked most of the light from hitting around the patio.

"There is a hallway over there that used to lead into the main psychiatric ward." Sam sighed, wiping his face,"That is the only direction anyone would be able to hide someone out here. IT's a seperate building and makes an L shape away from this one over there." He gestured with his hand,' The doors are busted open."

"Let's get crackin." Dean grinned and helped Shawn stand," Juliet is going to kill you. What are you going to tell her?"

"Rabid squirell. Worked last time." Shawn grinned as they started to walk to the dimly lit hallway. The doors were smashed down and they had to jump over them.

"So that would be six rabid squirells in a month." Dean nodded," Not bad."

"Those things are evil! I have seen them do worse for much less." Shawn said.

"Guys, focus." Sam said.

"Right. Gotta find Castiel. Gotta find him." Shawn's eyes started to adjust to the darkness and he didn't like this hallway any better than the room he couldn't see in," Does anyone else realise we forgot one big thing?" Shawn asked.

"What?" Sam asked.

"There's a flesh and blood something out there and we never found them. How did he get out of that room I was in?" Shawn asked, He couldn't have been that far in front of me that I didn't see him leave that room."

"One thing at a time buddy." Dean patted Shawn hard on the back," Sam. why don't you go around and see if there are any clues outside of that room. He could only have come this way. See if he is on the outside."

"Right." Sam turned and went the other way.

"Is it only me, or is there an eery light coming from the door in front of us?" Shawn pointed and Dean suddenly shoved him to the ground. Shawn heard a gunshot and looked up at Dean.

"Another ghost. There are more. Get up against the wall behind me." Dean ordered.

"Move slowly to your left." Shawn said, one hand on Dean's shoulder to guide him in the darkness as they both walked sideways, pressed to the wall, pressed too close to eachother.

"Whoa Shawn. Calm down. I don't swing that way." Dean smiled to ease the tension as he blew another ghost to oblivion.

"That's the barell of the gun, you popcorn ball!" Shawn hissed.

"Are we at the door yet?" Dean asked just as Shawn's hand hit the doorway.

"Yeah." Shawn said.

"You stay out here and keep the ghosts out." Dean ordered. Shawn opened the door and Dean swung into the room, gun up to aim. He looked around for a bit then was launched off his feet and into a cubbord that slammed shut then fell over onto its doors.

Shawn cursed under his breath and flung himself into the room, gun up in the same manner, spinning it all around the room. He lowered it cautiously then made eye contact with the severely bloody angel in the middle of the room. He was bound to a chair and gagged, blood all over his face and white feathers strewn around the room. Behind him were two bloody wings, bald in some patches. The ring of fire around him flickered ominously.

Shawn had nothing to put the fire out so he stepped over it and ungagged the angel then started to work on each wrist.

"Spencer. What are you doing here?" Castiel asked in his normal monotone voice.

"You didn't think I could leave my bestie to die, did you?" Shawn asked, masking his fear with humor.

"I do not know what a bestie is but I do not think I am one. You have to leave. Now. They want you." Castiel said.

"Tell me if anyone comes in the room behind me, flyboy." Shawn grunted, taking his switchblade out of his pocket.

"Spencer!" Catiel bellowed. It was too late. The knife was too far imbedded in Shawn's back for him to move. He arched away from the pain and someone grabbed his hair, breath hot on his face.

"Hello, Shawn." Said the voice of his murderer. No. Not murderer, because that would imply he was dead. Shawn would not die that easy. The voice was familiar but Shawn couldn't focus. He coughed and blood poured from his mouth and nose. His head was tilted forward and a silver cup caught his blood.

When it was full the knife was remover and he was thrown onto his back, outside the holy flames. Shawn could hear Dean thrashing in the cubbord as the man walked to a small alter nearby. Shawn couldn't focus his eyes. This was worse, mush worse, than being shot.

"Shawn, I have waited for five years to get this. My master has waited much longer. See, the psychic thing had me going for a while. You were always so nice to me. I am sorry it has to end like this. " The guy rambled. He was tall with short cropped black hair. Was that a cop uniform?

"What is this?' Shawn said, then coughed blood up and all over his chest.

"See, your ancestor about eighty years ago was a demon hunter. Keeping up?" He turned to Shawn who nodded," Well, there was a demon who was jumping from patient to patient justt having some fun. You ancestor, a man in his thirties, thought he could take the demon on. He was wounded to the point of death then he trapped the demon in some oblivion that doesn't even have a name in any language spoken on earth."

"What does this have to do with me!" Shawn shouted.

"The only way to release the demon is to pour the blood of your ancestor on an alter built on the exact spot he was captured. The blood had to be from a life ending wound, this is obviously no problem. His blood is in you and your mother, but the blood had to be a certain age on a certain night. On this night all things line up. You are the right age, have the right blood and are dying." The man smiled and it hit Shawn who it was.

"Buzz?" He gasped through the ever growing pain. Then there was another shape that hit Buzz on the head and knocked him out, spilling the blood all over the floor. The other shape moved over to Shawn and formed Sam as it moved closer.

"Shawn! Ok, I'm going to get Castiel loose to help you." Sam said and Shawn nodded. To keep Shawn talking Sam asked him multiple stupid questions like, when a thudding could be heard from the cubbord," That's Dean, isn't it?"

"No, I think it's a rabid bear."Shawn chuckled, which ended in a moan of pain. Sam let out a tight laugh, trying to get shawn calm as he undid the final rope.

"Castiel, can you move, your hurt too." Sam asked.

"Put out the ring. I can crawl to him." Castiel sighed. Sam went to the hallway and brought out a backpack, most likely from the car. He had taken a detour when looking for Buzz.

"There is no way that is really Buzz." Shawn muttered.

"It's him, but I don't think he's in his right mind. He may have had a demon in him laying dormant for years, waiting to release it's friend." Sam took out a fire extinguisher and the flames were out.

Sam ran over to Shawn and lifted his head off the ground," Shawn. Wake up. Keep fighting, hurry Cas." Castiel was next to them and lay his index and second finger on Shawn's face. In an instant the bloody scrapes on his face were gone, the gushing wound in his back was no more, the bruise on his side was gone and even the scar on his chin from the fight he had with Gus when they were kids was gone.

"Spencer." Castiel muttered. Shawn didn't stir.

"What's going on Cas?" Sam asked, frantic.

"I think I was too late. Only God can choose when a life is to be given back. He was dead when I healed him. He's gone." Castiel said in his flat tone. Castiel stood and walked over to the cubbord. Suddenly Dean was standing, very uneasily, outside of it. Sam held Shawn's head in his lap, tears running down his face.

"It was my fault." Sam said, looking up at Dean.

"No. I should have said no. Shouldn't have told him what we do." Dean knelt down and laid a hand on Shawn's head.

"There is nothing you can do, Castiel?" Sam asked, his voice choked.

"No. I can't." Castiel shook his head, sadly. This he understood.

The police were called and came half an hour later. Sam's testimony matched Dean and Castiel's perfectly as he shakily told them what happened.

The story goes that Buzz was on drugs and thought he needed to make a sacrifice out of someone to bring back a demon. Shawn tried to talk him out of it but ended up following him to the asylum. By the time the brothers arrived Buzz had killed Shawn and started the ritual. Buzz was crazed and attacked them, recieving little injury from the brothers but the drugs made it easy for him to overpower them. Sam cut loose Cas, who had been originally the sacrifice, then all three hit him at once, Sam hitting the blow that took him down.

The funeral held over one thousand people, family and the SBPD took up the first three rows and the rest were mournful people and families of people Shawn had helped in some way or another. He recieved a medal for all the work he had done for the SBPD and his father was presented with it.

Juliet had to leave half way through the funeral and was in an altercation with the two brothers outside the funeral home. They didn't lay a hand on her as she screamed, stomped, hit them, punched them, slapped them, and blamed them then fell into tears in Sam's arms against the Impala. Sam cried for three states and locked himself in a seperate hotel room when they stopped for a nights rest. Dean drank for three days but even as this loss hurt everyone they eventually moved on. Gus went back to pharmacuticals, Juliet retired from detective work and moved back to Miami. Lassiter missed Juliet and Shawn around the SBPD but he picked up the slack and just as many murders were solved as if Shawn had never left.

Henry Spencer did research on the Winchester brothers and is now part of a search orchestrated by the FBI for the two brothers who travelled the country even though they were both reported dead in six different ways each.

He still hasn't found them.

It's said that if you wander the halls of that old asylum you can hear laughter throughout the halls just before sunrise on the night of the fullmoon. Shawn's jokes were always dead funny.

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry for the spelling errors. Please don't comment on them. Anything else but spelling. When I get a spellchecker I will redo all my stories, of maybe I can find a beta.

Reviews?