AN: A HUGE thank you to all of you who left reviews. You guys are amazing!


Juliet watched Shawn stride towards the exit and took a step to follow him. The station tensed when Shawn reached the door, expecting it to slam against the wall, but it didn't. Juliet wasn't surprised. Shawn was carefree and reckless when he was happy. Angry, Shawn was much more deliberate and controlled. Juliet blew out a quick sigh, looking down when her foot touched the file Shawn had dropped. She bent over to grab it and flipped through the pages. She closed her eyes, lips pressed together. Of course.

"Well?" Lassiter asked.

Juliet opened her eyes, glancing at all of the officers who were still silent. "What do you think? He found the killer."

Gus wasn't sure what to say. His best friend had just been fed to the wolves. He had spent a week working nonstop on this case for the very people who had just been so cruel to him. He hadn't seen Shawn get that angry in a long time. It was actually unnerving to see Shawn like that. With no traces of his usual humor on his face, his eyes glittering dangerously, and body tense with agitation, he looked like a completely different person.

Gus may not have been completely sober or conscious for both trips to Mexico, but he did have a vague memory from the first trip that stuck out to him now. He and Shawn had been out one night when, after having ten drinks too many, Gus had accidently thrown up all over one of the other patrons in the bar. He only had scattered memories after that. He remembered the man punching him in the stomach, remembered Shawn pulling the guy away from him, remembered Shawn standing between Gus and the stranger…remembered the stranger taking a step back and stuttering an apology…

Gus hadn't seen Shawn's face that night, but he had a feeling he'd seen something similar to it tonight. He shot a look at Shawn out of the corner of his eyes.

"Gus, Buddy, I'm not going to yell at you, too," Shawn sighed, staring out the window.

"I know; it's just…I'm sorry, Shawn."

"Yeah. Me too, Buddy."

Gus gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "What are you going to do?" Please, don't say you're leaving. Please…

"Take me back to the office; my bike's there."

You're not answering the question I'm really asking. Gus shot a quick look at him again.

"I'm not going to run, Gus. We might not work for the police department anymore, but we still have Psych."

Gus blew out a quiet sigh. "Okay then."

When they pulled up in front of Psych a few minutes later, there was a moment of silence before Gus asked, "So, see you tomorrow?"

Shawn frowned, "Yeah. There's a case I need to fill you in on. Probably my dad, too." Shawn didn't really want to involve his father, but he also knew he didn't really have a choice. He had a feeling the SBPD wasn't going to be very helpful. Gus looked surprised, but didn't make a comment about it.

"Okay. See you later, Shawn."

There was a fist bump, and then Gus pulled away. Shawn just stood where he was, watching until the car disappeared. His shoulders slumped as he walked into the office. Running sounded like a great idea, but he really didn't want to leave Gus or his dad right now. So far, Drake's threats had been focused on Shawn, but he didn't want to take the chance that that wouldn't change.

Shawn stopped. There was a little piece of white paper on the floor. He tilted his head; that hadn't been there when he left. Slowly, Shawn bent down to pick it up, reading the words as a trickle of fear crawled up his spine.

I see you.

Shawn heard a noise and dropped the letter to the ground, turning quickly to face whatever was in the office, but he was too late. A dark figure crashed into Shawn, pushing him into one of the desks. He thought he could smell a chemical of some sort-chloroform! Crap! He increased his struggles, his elbow flying backwards and landing with a satisfying grunt. Shawn was pushing away from the desk when his attacker flipped Shawn around and punched him across the face. Before he could recover, a cloth was pressed against his nose. Double crap!

Shawn held his breath, clawing at the man and trying to break free. His attacker landed on top of him, pushing against his chest and forcing the air from his lungs. Shawn couldn't stop the reflex that made him inhale, even though he tried. The chemical stung his nose and Shawn felt himself losing consciousness. He fell to the floor, watching as if from a distance as the attacker grabbed Shawn's shirt and pulled him up slightly.

That's not good, Shawn thought as Christopher Drake's face came into view. Drake smiled, an expression that made Shawn's stomach twist. The last thing he saw was Drake's fist flying straight for his head.


AN: I always look forward to hearing your thoughts.