AN.: Thank you for tuning into this little story. It was a plot bunny that assaulted me while I was working on my Merlin fanfiction (Which I still am, I swear)

I wrote it to get it out of my system and I had a lot of fun with this. Please overlook the mistakes I didn't manage to find (If there are any, I don't know, english is not my native tongue) I hope you'll enjoy.


It was a sunny day in Santa Barbara and Shawn was honoring it with a pineapple Milkshake and an eagerness that would make Lassiter pull his hair out; Shawn had been occupying the Psych office for the better half of the day and worked on avoiding work when he decided to pay the precinct and his favorite head detective a visit. Being alone was boring and Shawn didn't like boring things. Gus was at 'his real workplace' to do some 'real work', to avoid getting 'fired' or a 'loan reduction' or 'not being trusted with the products or the customers' anymore… Shawn was furiously making quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he entered the busy precinct. His eyes scanned his surroundings with professional routine, picking up every little detail and saving it in the back of his head for later if needed. In his usual manner, he walked through the workspace as if it was his home, greeting the officers and detectives with a nod or a fitting greeting. He almost danced through the station on light soles before he reached Lassiter's and Juliet's desks. Mhhm… Shawn looked around once again but didn't spot the two detectives anywhere. Were they at a crime scene? Interrogating a suspect? Following some leads for a case? Well, in any case, Shawn was confident that he managed to hop onto the investigation train and put an end to this boringness.

He stepped closer to the table and put one hand into his pocket while scanning the files littered on the desks. It seemed like they were working on something indeed. He took a sip of his milkshake and was about to take another step towards the files, reaching one arm out to put the milkshake on the desk and grab one of the files instead, when something ran down his spine, making him shiver. His whole body froze mid-motion, as if his feet decided to take root suddenly and his arms turned into stone on their way. His eyes jumped around in panic, trying to spot a person responsible for his state. Did someone decide to try their new taser on him? Did one of the suspects inject a poison into his neck or something? Oh god… Was the milkshake bad?

Shawn needed help. His eyes searched for someone to save him in their limited frame of view. A few familiar faces were busying themselves in front of him a few feet away, copying something or carrying files from one desk to the other. With a lot of his willpower, he opened his mouth and tried to form words. It felt like his tongue was a foreign body in his mouth which wouldn't seem to follow his command and simply flopped around uselessly instead. His limbs were glued to the spot and wouldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. Suddenly, his vision began to blur and faded away and with it, his heart rate and breathing picked up. The panic settled itself like a stone into the pit of Shawn's stomach as he realized that he was helpless, that he was surrounded by cops and yet no one seemed to notice what he was experiencing. Is this what dying feels like? Shawn asked himself as his vision faded to black completely. The only thing he heard was the blood rushing through his ears.

The next thing he saw was… Himself. He saw himself. He saw his back more specifically, standing in the position Shawn had been in before; His feet were positioned as if time froze in between him taking steps, his right arm was still hovering in the air, clutching the milkshake, between him and the desks and his left was in his pocket, balled into a tight fist. He was unable to see his face but he could see the heavy breaths that made his body shudder violently. Was he witnessing him having a panic attack? Shawn tried to look around, tried to turn away to investigate his surroundings from his newfound point of view but he couldn't seem to separate his gaze from the figure in front of him. He tried to call out again, but just like before, he couldn't made words form around the big lump in his throat. Without a doubt, this was the most confusing and the weirdest thing that had ever happened to Shawn and it was frustrating. Frustrating that he couldn't do anything about it, frustrating that nobody seemed to notice his difficulties, frustrating that he couldn't, for the life of him, explain this state of his body and state of his mind to himself. There was one explanation that made sense, but Shawn had pushed it to the back of his head as soon as he had glanced at it, because that explanation simply stated that he… that he was dying… And Shawn didn't do dying. At least not today. Like the intelligent detective he was, Shawn gathered all the clues he had and tried to come up with a more logical explanation when suddenly his position shifted and he slowly started moving towards himself; It was like as if he was a ghost hovering slightly above himself a few feet away, observing his own body. Now he moved closer and closer to the back that faced him. It was painfully slow but Shawn wished for it to be even slower. He was afraid, afraid of what would happen when he reached his body. Was he going back? Was this some kind of last goodbye before leaving this world?

He was almost there now. He reached for his back. Wait… I'm reaching for my back? Yes, the hand had appeared in Shawn's frame of view, reaching for his shoulder now. It felt weird though… The hand's position suggested that it was his and his viewpoint indicated it was his hand as well, but the hand felt foreign. It didn't belong to him. It belonged to someone else. The moment it touched his shoulder, there was a bright flash of light and then Shawn's body felt heavy, unbelievable heavy; His arm fell down to his side and with it, something fell to the floor, splashing the content all over it. His chest was pounding as his lungs tried to greedily suck in air and his vision was still blurry. He looked around as best as he could, trying to spot the now familiar image of his own back in front of him but he couldn't see it. I'm back. The relief washed over him in waves and the fear of dying which had clawed at his heart released him at once, making him close his eyes. His legs were wobbly, threatening to give way beneath him.

The touch came out of nowhere; There was a hand of his shoulder all of a sudden and it was enough for Shawn to almost black out right there on the spot.

"Spencer! You can't just walk in here and spill your milkshake all over my workspace. You are going to clean that up, now!" Lassiter had walked into the precinct with Juliet in tow to find the psychic making a mess of his workplace... again. Lassiter braced himself for a snarky reply, an overly dramatic retort, a beaming greeting or an innocent defense, but he didn't expect what happened the next second. Spencer's knees buckled and he fell backwards towards Lassiter. The head detective opened his arms and caught Shawn before he could hit the ground. Next to him, Juliet gasped and hurried to Shawn's side. Lassiter was about to drop the psychic to the floor, taking his 'faint' as his usual acting when he realized that Shawn was dead weight in his arms. He felt warm to the touch as well and Lassiter noticed that he was sweating profusely. He swore slightly under his breath, trying to cover the worry up that pierced through him and lifted Shawn up completely; There was no time for a piggyback ride without making even more of a scene and Lassiter wasn't sure if he could handle an over the shoulder carry, so instead he simply lifted Shawn into his arms like a newlywed bride and then stormed off towards the break room. Juliet scurried along, opened the door for the two men and closed it behind her as well. Lassiter put Shawn on the couch and took one step back to look at the psychic. His eyes were open but a little glassy. He was staring at the ceiling; His breathing was accelerated, making his chest rise and sink rapidly. Juliet knelt down next to the couch and put a hand on Shawn's forehead, her brow creasing in worry as she felt the warmth radiating off of his skin.

"Shawn can you hear me?" Juliet asked tenderly. Lassiter couldn't help but lean in as well. Shawn's head turned towards the voice he heard and his eyes landed on Juliet and Lassiter who were looking at him more or less worried. With an effort, he managed to sit up and leaned his back against the backrest of the couch. His eyes jumped from Juliet to Lassiter.

"Who touched me?" Shawn's voice was small and he sounded scared. It startled himself and he could see that Juliet was melting as well. Even Lassiter looked more confused than angry and that was an achievement Shawn liked to go for. He cleared his throat and felt the life returning to his body as he asked them again: "Who touched me?" Juliet looked confused now as well but she answered, nonetheless.

"I did. I just touched your forehead to check your temperature." She looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out if that was the answer Shawn had been looking for.

"No. I meant before that." Shawn said. Juliet's eyes snapped to Lassiter and Shawn followed her gaze. Lassiter was avoiding eye contact as he let a breath slowly out of his nose and said: "I carried you to the couch when you collapsed." He crossed his arms in a defensive manner. Shawn's mouth twitched into the idea of a smile, but then he shook his head and took a long breath.

"No, before that. Who touched me?" Lassiter's eyes jumped to Shawn's face now and he let his arms sink as he tried to figure out what game the psychic was playing.

"I swear to god Shawn, if this is one of your games, I'll-" Lassiter tried to threaten, but Shawn simply shook his head in annoyance and asked again.

"This is serious. Just answer the question, please. Who touched me." The 'please' had left the room in dead silence as the detectives stared at Shawn in shock. The expression on Shawn's face told them that this was no joking matter for him as well.

"When we returned to the station, I found you standing at our desks. You had dropped a milkshake to the floor, so I touched your shoulder to address you." Lassiter finally provided. Shawn nodded slowly and turned his head to stare at his own hands that were lying in his lap. He now knew who's hand he had seen reaching for his back. Now that he knew, he felt like that there had been some kind of familiarity to the limb. Without a warning, Shawn leaned towards the detectives to grab Lassiter's right hand. He held it tightly, even as the detective tried to pull it out of Shawn's grasp. Shawn rotated Lassiter's hand and looked at it as if it was the biggest mystery in the world. After a few drawn out seconds, Shawn nodded to himself and released the detective. He then struggled with getting back up on his feet when Juliet made him stop.

"Did you have a vision, Shawn?" She asked curiously. Shawn froze to think for a second before he nodded again. He looked at Juliet and Lassiter before he got up from the couch.

"Yes. I guess I did."

"What was it about?" Juliet asked, a spark of hope glinting in her eyes.

"Nothing special. I just saw Lassiter touching my shoulder. But it was exhausting. Never had a vision which was that exhausting." Shawn said. This was the first time Shawn was completely honest with them about his 'visions'.

"Oh, come on Spencer. That was no vision. I did touch your shoulder. You have to try harder than that." Lassiter said. Shawn had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he was too tired to say it.

"Yeah, you might be right. I don't feel so well; I'll better leave now." Shawn walked past Juliet and Lassiter and left the room, leaving the both detectives behind, dumbfounded. Lassiter knitted his bushy eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest. That just had been the weirdest behavior Spencer had ever displayed… And they were talking about Shawn Spencer, which meant it would take a lot of weirdness for that. Lassiter knew the psychic wasn't acting when he collapsed and he had something on his mind what was seriously bothering him. It seemed alien to the head detective to witness Shawn being serious and distressed rather than bumbling and beaming. Maybe it was for the better that he took off to take a rest. Lassiter sighed and followed Juliet out of the break room to continue their investigation when he spotted the viscous, yellow liquid still splashed in front of his desk.

"Spencer!"

(~´°w°)~´ `~(. _.`~)

"Gus! The weirdest thing happened just now!" As soon as Shawn had left the precinct and entered his office again, he had snatched his phone from his pocket and speed dialed Gus. "I was at the precinct and had a vision-"

"I'm working, Shawn." Gus whispered into the receiver of his phone. Shawn could picture him bending in his chair to hide underneath the desk to avoid drawing attention to himself while he was on the phone. "You know I have to meet my minimum requirement of working hours to save my job. We can't afford me loosing it." Gus did the thing now where he screamed and whispered at the same time.

"But Gus, this is important! I had a vision! A real vision!" Shawn was pacing up and down in the office, not knowing where to go with the sudden burst of energy he was experiencing.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the receiver. "Did you eat a bad pineapple again, Shawn?" Gus asked, sounding seriously concerned. "You know that I know that you are not a real psychic, do you? You are just pretending to be one, have you already forgotten that?"

"Well apparently, my body doesn't know what 'pretending' means. I had a real vision. And it was about something that hasn't happened then as well."

"You saw the future?!" Gus didn't bother with the whispering anymore.

"Shh, Gus. Yes. I was suddenly standing – or hovering – behind my real body and then I was reaching for my shoulder with a foreign hand and was suddenly back in my body. The crazy thing is: Lassiter then touched my shoulder! I have seen it happening out of Lassiter's perspective right before it actually did!" Shawn finished, waiting for Gus' response with an open-mouthed smile.

"I don't know Shawn… It could've been anything. A dream, an illusion, a trick of the light, maybe…?" With a lower voice he added "Your imagination…"

Shawn couldn't help but feel a little offended that Gus implied he was losing his mind. But could he blame Gus? He couldn't quite believe it happened as well and he had had front row seats to the event. Maybe it was a one-time thing and it would never happen again. In that case, Shawn was making a mountain out of a molehill for nothing. There was nothing he could actively do right now to prove anything about what happened, so why bother? If it happened again, Shawn knew it had not been his imagination. If nothing happened, then there was no bother.

"Maybe you are right." Shaw said after a short pause. "I shouldn't make a big deal out of it. Could be nothing." There was a slight gasp on the other end.

"Wow, it's that serious, isn't it? It's weird seeing you acting mature about something." Shawn puffed at that and put on a pout which Gus was able to hear in his best friend's voice.

"Anyway, I don't want to disturb you any longer. I'm hanging up." Shawn and Gus said their goodbyes in good nature and hung up. Shawn looked at the screen of his phone a while longer, contemplating if he should call his dad. Henry was part of his lie as well and he was his father. If something happened to Shawn which was disturbing and bothering – like suddenly having a real psychic vision – maybe Henry deserved to know as well. Shawn didn't want to admit it, but the out-of-body experience he had, had scared him; Before there was a supernatural explanation for that, there was always a scientific one as well and suddenly seeing weird things, combined with bodily pain and exhaustion was the perfect recipe for NetDoctor to go crazy on you. Shawn's imagination provided enough horror scenarios without him having to google his symptoms. That's why Shawn didn't want to be alone. Gus was out of the picture and Juliet was busy working and wouldn't understand his problem with 'having an (actual) psychic vision' like Gus and Henry could. Shawn put the phone away. Instead of calling his father, he would pay him a visit instead.

Shawn hopped onto his motorcycle and drove to Henry's house. Normally, his father would be out of the door, greeting him as soon as he heard Shawn's loud motorcycle arrive, but this time, Henry was nowhere in sight, indicating that his father wasn't home. Shawn suppressed a curse and entered the house anyway. He had been right, Henry wasn't home. Shawn looked around, finding a coffee pot with cold coffee, a thin string of cut fishing line on the counter and a prepared cutting board with a huge knife, ready and waiting to fillet a fish. The weather was nice as well and the state of the house told Shawn that Henry had left the it early in the morning to go fishing. Shawn turned towards the fridge to grab a drink when he spotted a note on it.

I'm out fishing. Make yourself comfortable and get something to drink. I'll be back in the afternoon and then we're having dinner.

Well, notes like these made Shawn's job of pretending to be a psychic even easier… provided that he found them. He took the note from the fridge and opened it to find beer and chocolate milk. Shawn took the chocolate milk and walked back into the living room. Sometimes he wondered if his father was the real psychic of the both of them. He sat down on the couch and took a sip of his milk, turning the note in his hand. His father had an odd sense of knowing when something was wrong with Shawn. He knew when he was hiding something, he knew when something was bothering him and he sometimes did things like these; Having everything ready for Shawn's visit even though Shawn never told him he'd actually come in the first place. In the end, his father was one of the best detectives Shawn had ever met. Not that he would tell him that. Maybe coming here wasn't a good idea; Shawn wasn't sure how to feel about his out-of-body experience and if he decided to not talk about it, he wouldn't be able to hide from his father that something was bothering him. His father would make him talk. Oh yes, he would.

Shawn sighed, taking another sip of his milk when something cold ran down his spine again. He shuddered and realized quickly that he couldn't move. Oh no! It was the same sensation, the same coldness, the same panic. It was just like back at the station. His breathing increased and his heart rate picked up. The edge of his vision became blurry and colorful spots started to dance in front of him until they disappeared in the blackness that spread across his vision. One second, there was only darkness and the next second, he was standing behind himself. But this time, he was standing more to the right side, giving him a look at the right half of his own face. The expression he wore on his face was terrifying. His eyes were wide open but the pupils had rolled back into his head, providing only the white of the eye to be seen. His face was in a grimace, speaking of horror and agony. He looked like death was whispering into his ear. Then, Shawn moved closer again from his weird position. This time he moved faster and the hand reaching for his shoulder appeared in the blink of an eye. Shawn recognized it instantly; It was his father's hand. The hand reached him and landed on his shoulder heavily and Shawn even saw it shaking his frame for a second before the flash of bright light made an appearance again and took Shawn with it.

The first sensation he had was a pounding head, then he felt the couch beneath him. He put his head into his hands and moaned, still out of breath. Someone was calling his name from the corner of his awareness but he couldn't seem to leave the position he was in. He needed time to recover. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, grabbing him and shaking him softly.

Henry had returned from his fishing trip bringing three big fishes with him. They were beauties, an excellent catch and Henry couldn't wait to prepare them for dinner for him and Shawn. Henry's gaze landed on the motorcycle parked in front of his home, making a smile appear on his face. Henry's intuition would never let him down. The same intuition, the feeling in his guts, told him that something was utterly wrong as soon as he had entered the house. He left his fishing gear at the door and ran into the living room, spotting his son on the couch. Shawn was bend forward; his head pressed into the palm of his hands. His face – or at least what Henry was able to see from it – was a mask of pain. His breath came in short gasps and it hitched in his throat. Shawn moaned.

"Shawn!" Henry ran over to the couch and reached for his writhing son, putting his hand down on his shoulder and shaking him slightly. Shawn moaned even louder because of the movement and Henry decided to refrain from doing it. He went around the couch until he was able to kneel in front of Shawn.

"Shawn, son… What is wrong?" Henry asked him. Shawn's breathing had calmed down by now and his facial features seemed to relax and changed from the contorted mask back to something more humane. Henry gently touched Shawn's knee to get his attention. Shawn's slightly glassy eyes looked into his father's face.

"Dad." Shawn said with a low voice. "I knew you were coming." Henry opened his mouth to answer but he ended up gaping like a fish instead. Shawn had closed his eyes again, his brows knitted and he took slow and deep breaths now.

"Shawn, what just happened?" Henry managed to find his voice again. "Were you in pain? Are you sick?" Henry shook Shawn's knee a little.

"No, I'm fine, Dad. I just had a psychic vision."

"This is not funny Shawn. You seemed like you were in pain, it's no time to joke about that."

Shawn finally looked into his father's eyes with cleared vision and took on the most serious expression he could muster. "I know, Dad. I wasn't exactly joking." Shawn pressed his lips into a thin line, showing that he was upset with the whole situation. Henry felt like his son was 13 again and needed his help. Henry willed his aching limbs to get up from the uncomfortable position on the floor and sat down in the armchair across from Shawn. He put on a serious expression as well and waved his hand in his son's direction. "Tell me what happened."

So, Shawn told him all about what had happened at the precinct and what had happened just now, told him about how it felt like, what he saw and what he feared. And Henry listened.

"Am I losing my mind? Am I sick?" Shawn asked, a slight tremor lacing his words. Henry thought for a second, believing every word his son just said. He was already pretending to be a psychic, why would he try and fool his father now about actually being one. Henry understood Shawn's fear about possible medical issues as well. The symptoms he described didn't sound healthy.

"Shawn, if this was the second time this had happened, maybe you should go see a doctor. I'm afraid it could be something serious and if that's the case, you shouldn't waste any time. If you want to, I'll go with you." Shawn looked at his father in horror as if he had seen a ghost. That's why he had needed his father; Because his father spoke out loud the truth Shawn had been trying to repress. His father was the voice of reason he needed the most now. He nodded at him in agreement. "Yes, dad, thank you… I'd like that."

When Henry said he shouldn't waste time, Henry meant exactly that. The next minute, they were already on their way to the hospital, the dinner long forgotten.

(~´°w°)~´`~(. _.`~)

Two weeks later, Shawn had started to accept his ability, which apparently was an ability according to the doctor who had checked Shawn out thoroughly. Henry and Shawn had told him about the symptoms and withheld the information that he pretended to be a psychic on purpose to avoid complications. You couldn't just simply walk into the hospital as a sworn and known psychic, explaining to a doctor that you are worried about suddenly having visions. An MRI and EEG scan later and Shawn was released. 'There is nothing I could find that would explain your symptoms. No signs of epilepsy, no sleep disorders, depth of anesthesia, coma, encephalopathies or even traces of tumors or of a stroke.' The doctor looked at the medical file for a while before he shut it and grinned at Shawn. 'Maybe you are psychic?'

Well, apparently Shawn was psychic now for real. His out-of-body experience happened whenever someone approached him from the back with the intention to grab him or to interfere with his bodily integrity. Gus and Henry came to terms with the lie-turned-truth and even helped him to practice and test his limits. They tested what it would take for a vision to be triggered.

First, Gus and Shawn tried out if it only worked if Shawn had his back to the person who was about to touch him or if it was enough for Shawn to have his eyes closed. Shawn stood there, eyes closed, and Gus touched his shoulder, then his chest, then his arms until it became too awkward to handle for the both of them. Shawn noted 'I need to have my back towards the person to be able to see them in a vision'.

Then he wanted to find out if it was enough for a person to have the intention of touching him on the shoulder even though he wasn't present. He wanted to see how far into the future the vision would work. So, Shawn called his father and told him that he would come by at 7 p.m. in the evening and that Henry should wait in the kitchen at that time. Shawn would enter the house then and turn his back towards the kitchen and then his father would approach him and touch his shoulder. They planned on doing that and then Shawn asked his father to think about that exact scene and his intention to touch his son's shoulder as soon as they hung up. Shawn put down the phone and waited for the now familiar sensation his visions always brought along, but it didn't work. Shawn noted that no matter if someone has the intention and said intention would fulfill itself 100 percent, the vision wouldn't appear unless the person was present and the contact would happen shortly afterwards. Still, Shawn went to see his father that evening, they played out their plan and Shawn told him about the result as they made up for the dinner they both missed out on the last time.

The newfound ability was also annoying from time to time. He wasn't fond of having the visions triggered constantly, whenever someone approached him. That's why he told everyone at the precinct about his newest ability, of course, he told them that it only was an addition to his already existing psychic powers. There was a round of 'ohh' and 'ahh' from the police officers who were part of the Shawn Fanclub. Lassiter merely snorted at Shawn and Chief Vick seemed skeptical but asked for a demonstration, nonetheless. So, Shawn stood in front of a half-circle of officers, detectives and friends, his back turned towards them. He had a blindfold on, which was, in reality, Buzz' tie. Shawn had looked at their hands beforehand, memorizing their features to be able to recognize them. Then, the first vision came; A soft hand with a bracelet on was moving towards his back and touched his shoulder. As soon as Shawn was back in his body, he said "Juliet." out loud, startling the female detective who was still halfway away from Shawn, her hand outstretched to touch him. The Fanclub including Juliet applauded Shawn and Shawn simply answered with a "Next."

The practice Shawn had been going through for the last two weeks had also the effect of the vision being less painful, less exhausting and less disorientating. Shawn was able to become responsive again before the person from the vision was able to touch him in reality. Shawn had actually feared that that was not possible; What kind of purpose had an ability that warned you about contact beforehand without you being able to avoid that contact because you were too exhausted or winded from the ability? That would be as if you'd get a cool unicycle for your birthday but you only have one leg. Shawn urgently hoped there were no parents out there who were this cruel. Shawn was glad that whoever or whatever gifted him with this new ability wasn't a cruel parent.

"Shawn." The psychic turned towards the person who had addressed him, pushing his blindfold up slightly to look at them. It was Lassiter who held a thick pair of noise canceling headphones from the shooting range in one hand. "Let's see if you can still do your little trick when you're blind and deaf." Lassiter challenged and walked up to Shawn, putting the headphones on Shawn's head.

Interesting idea, Shawn thought, putting the blindfold down and turned his back to the crowd once again. Why not test Lassiter's theory? Shawn waited for a few seconds, then the vision washed over him, pulling his conscience out of his body until he was looking at himself again. This time, he could see the thick pair of headphones sitting on his head. The hand appearing in his frame of view was female again and he recognized Chief Vick's wedding ring. She was almost there, when another hand stopped her; It was a male hand, manicured with pale skin and slightly wrinkled. It was a hand which had often grabbed him by his collar. It touched his shoulder, there was the flash of light and Shawn was back in his body.

"Lassie, it's Chief Vick's turn to test me. Don't interfere with her." Shawn said, almost screaming the words because the headphones cancelled his own voice out as well. Shawn turned around and pulled his blindfold up to find Chief Vick standing a few feet away from him, turned to look at Lassiter who had stepped out of the half-circle and apparently had been on his way to do exactly what Shawn had seen. Chief Vick turned back towards Shawn, an expression of bewilderment and wonder on her face. She believed him. And so did the rest of the SBPD. Even a certain head detective couldn't deny the fact that Shawn's demonstration left no room to argue and was pretty convincing.

Now that they knew, they knew better to approach him from behind with the intention of grabbing his shoulder and just called out for him instead. Still, Shawn couldn't help but become extremely defensive about his back. He didn't like people standing behind him because he didn't want to be assaulted by visions when he expected them the least. Other than that, Shawn was still Shawn and he was still working as a psychic consulted for the SBPD. His new actual psychic ability had absolutely no use for investigating crime scenes though and even though he was now a real psychic, he still had to investigate like he had always done; Trusting his senses, his good comprehension, keen perception and amazing memory. When life hands you lemonade, drink the juice you still have in your fridge – or howsoever that saying goes. And that juice was pineapple juice.

(~´°w°)~´ `~(. _.`~)

It was one of those investigating days, Shawn and Gus spent on snooping around to get a hold of psychic-vision material. They were consulting the SBPD on a serial robbing of gas stations. On the last robbery, the culprit had killed the cashier, bringing Lassiter and Juliet into the investigation. They feared for the robberies to continue and especially, for another murder victim. Time put pressure on the two detectives, that's why Chief Vick asked for Shawn's help in the investigation. Shawn and Gus had found a pattern in the culprit's behavior and were sure they had a handful of gas stations on their list which were the possible next targets. Gus had taken the blueberry and Shawn his motorcycle and they were scouting out the gas stations separately to see and confirm if they'd fit into the culprit's pattern. Gus had called Shawn while he was standing in an aisle of one gas station.

"Gus, don't be a wet blanket. I'm sure it's not that serious." Shawn said, while he grabbed skittles from the shelf.

"Shawn! The owner almost called the cops on me because he thought I was the robber from the news!" Gus argued. "I scouted enough gas stations for today. Besides, I have real work to do, for my real job-"

"Gus! You have to look at it from a different perspective. Isn't it nice to compare gas station to make sure you only refuel your car at a gas station whose owner doesn't call the cops on you?" There only came a beeping sound from the other end of the line. Shawn put his phone away and with a sigh, returned his attention back to the skittles. He chose the family package and was on his way to the checkout when he heard a wet cough and a groan from behind the counter. Shawn leaned over the white surface and found the cashier lying on the floor, pressing his hand to his neck. There was blood oozing out of a wound beneath his fingers and his eyes stared up at Shawn in fear, his mouth moving to say something but no words came out.

Suddenly, Shawn's conscience was ripped from his body. The vision was so extreme and sudden that it left him winded, and his vision blurry, even in his ghost-like form. He didn't have much time to recover because the person which had the intention to make contact with him was moving fast through the aisles. A sharp turn later and Shawn's figure swam into his view. His body was still leaned across the counter of the checkout, oblivious to the predator coming for him. The next thing Shawn saw was a gloved hand stretching out to reach his pray. There was something glinting in the person's hand; It was a knife. With almost inhuman speed, the predator moved towards Shawn. Shawn wanted to close his eyes at the image but the vision forced him to watch it. Shawn watched the knife entering his body, saw the blood forming around the blade that stuck out from his back, saw his body reacting to the stab wound, grabbing at it in pain and crying out loud and especially terrifying: He felt the stab wound. Hot white pain rushed through his nerve system, filling every fiber of his astral being. He opened his mouth to scream in agony but couldn't make out if there were actual sounds coming from him.

Then there was the flash of light and Shawn was back in his body, still screaming. With the last bit of his strength, he turned around and avoided the attacker's blade by a hair's breadth. Shawn and the attacker were facing each other now. He was wearing a black hoodie and he had a bandana bound around his head to cover up his mouth and nose. The culprit looked at Shawn in bafflement and seemed to be lost for a few breaths. Then he apparently made up his mind and was coming at Shawn again, knife outstretched and intending to kill. Shawn made – what he hoped to be as graceful as possible – an evasive step, turned and ran for the door all the while rummaging in his pocket for his phone. The culprit was hot on his tail, apparently not wanting to leave any witnesses anymore. Shawn managed to untangle his fingers along with his phone from his pocket and was speed dialing Lassiter as soon as he was out of the gas station. Shawn looked around for help but there was nobody in sight. Maybe I shouldn't have picked the least visited gas station for scouting out… Shawn thought absurdly while the killer was running after him.

"What is it, Spencer?" Came Lassiter's annoyed voice over the speaker as soon as he had picked up Shawn's call.

"Lassie! Help! 1085 Coast Village Road! Gas station!" Shawn managed to shout in between breaths. That was all Lassiter needed to know to comprehend what was happening.

"Shawn, we are on our way! There are police patrol cars in your proximity, already dispatched. Hang on!"

Shawn wanted to give Lassiter more information, but another vision showed him that his attacker would stab his right side if he didn't move to the left on time. Now, he had even less time to react. As soon as he was back in his body, he forcefully turned left, but couldn't quite avoid the killer's knife this time. It slashed his side and Shawn yelled out in pain, pressing a hand to the bleeding gash. To his horror, Shawn didn't manage to put his feet right and stumbled instead, falling to the floor like a sack of flour. Only relying on his instincts made him turn on his back and kick out at the culprit who was already hovering above him, trying to finish him off. Shawn's foot caught the culprit right in the crotch and made him go down immediately, writhing in pain on the hard ground. Shawn wasn't even sorry for that. Forcing his body to get up before his systems shut down as well, Shawn managed to take the knife from the culprit and forced his arms behind his back. A breath of relief left Shawn as he heard the police car sirens in the distance, announcing their arrival.

The cops took the culprit into custody. One officer called an ambulance as soon as he saw Shawn clutching his bleeding side. Shawn told them about the injured cashier lying behind the counter needing medical attention as well. Lassiter and Juliet arrived a few minutes later as well. One of the officers was providing first aid for Shawn when Juliet and Lassiter ran up to him. Juliet immediately started fussing over him but Lassiter blew out his nostrils and crossed his arms.

"Spencer! What have you gotten yourself into this time?" Lassiter tried to hide it, but Shawn saw the glimpse of worry on the head detective's face as his eyes jumped to Shawn's wound. Shawn smiled at him and gladly returned the banter.

"Well, I caught the culprit of the serial robberies. You are welcome by the way." Shawn puffed is chest out and turned his head to look away in mock-offense. Soon, the ambulance arrived and took care of Shawn and the Cashier whose wounds were bad but not fatal. Gus and his father met Shawn in the hospital and fussed over him as well. The gash in his side wasn't that deep and only needed a few stitches. While sitting in the waiting area, waiting for the paperwork for his check-out to be done, Shawn rubbed the phantom pain on his back where the knife had first stabbed him in his vision. The psychic ability that had first been a curse, then something exciting and then something utterly useless had saved his life today. Twice. Sometimes, help comes from an unexpected source. Sometimes, help comes in the weirdest way possible. And sometimes it happens to be both of these things.

(~´°w°)~´`~(. _.`~)

A few days after the gas station incident, Shawn realized something. He realized that he had something back and the realization happened when he was standing in the precinct in front of Juliet's desk, waiting for her to return. Out of nowhere, Shawn had a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face Buzz who was grinning at him. Shawn looked at him in confusion and Buzz expression turned from happiness to puzzlement to horror as he realized that he had just approached Shawn from behind and touched him.

"I'm sorry Shawn, I forgot about your ability. I hope it wasn't too unpleasant." Buzz scraped his foot on the floor and looked down in shame.

"It's okay Buzz, don't worry, I barely noticed anything." Shawn said, still confused. Buzz looked back at him, beaming again as he congratulated Shawn on his catch leading to the arrest of a murderer and wished him a fast recovery for the wounds he sustained. Buzz bounced away, leaving Shawn alone with his realization. He got something back that day: his non-psychic status.

Further tests with Gus' help confirmed it; Boring old Shawn again, no visions, no out-of-body experiences and no checking-your-hair-in-the-back-without-a-mirror anymore. Puff, gone. His ability had appeared out of nowhere and was gone just as suddenly. Even though they had seemed to be useless at first and did nothing but trouble Shawn, they had ended up saving his life. As if whoever or whatever had given that ability to him, knew he had needed it to survive. And now that the threat was gone, so was his ability. Shawn wondered if they would ever return if he needed them again. Maybe someday when the time came and they returned, Shawn would appreciate their value more.

One thing was for sure: Shawn had a newfound respect for all the psychics out there who weren't frauds like he was himself.


AN.: Thank you for reading! I'd be overjoyed to receive a review about your thoughts. There is always room for improvement and I'd like for my readers to help me with that.

~ImmortalBerry