Previously:

He took one deep, slow breath, and raised his head, trying to suppress the pain as his eyes met those of a beautiful red-headed woman. He blinked in surprise. "Hi Sophie."

Sophie smiled back at her ex-boyfriend. "Hi Shawn. I never thought I'd see you again, especially not like this."

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, um… My arms really hurt, so if you could, uh, let me down…"

Sophie just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I just kidnapped you from a bank that I robbed, not to mention you're psychic and work for the police, so when you ask me things, do you really think I'll agree? I thought you were smarter than that, Shawn."

Shawn would have shrugged, had his shoulders not been lit on fire. "Thought it was worth a try. So, uh… why kidnap me? You got the bank money already – or, your brothers did, anyway."

For a single instant, she looked surprised – then she smiled again. "So you really are psychic. How… lovely. Basically, Shawn, we want to use you, and your 'gift'." Sophie said it complete with finger-quotes, looking just like what she was: a happy young female college student making a joke. Of course, Shawn doubted most female college students had psychics strung up in their basements – or wherever they were.

Shawn frowned. "My powers are not willing to be used for evil. The spirits get quiet – and sulky, too."

She was no longer laughing. "Well, too bad. Your 'powers' are going to help us or we are going to shoot you. My brothers will do whatever I say."

Shawn sighed. "But you won't really kill me right? I mean, if you need me to do stuff for you…"

Sophie interrupted him. "Oh, we don't need you Shawn, what gave you that idea? Nope, we just figured you would be useful – but we don't need you around. And besides," Sophie smiled, and it was much more sinister than it had ever been when Shawn had dated her, "who said we were planning to kill you? I just said 'shoot'."

Shawn stared at her for several long moments, his heart sinking. Almost without him realizing it, his gaze dropped to the floor and he muttered, "Oh shit."

--

Same Time, Police Station

"Damn it, you couldn't even follow them? What about plates? Are you all really that incompetent around here, that you can't even trace one van?" Henry was on a rampage, and the entire station was scared.

"Look, Mr. Spencer – Henry – you know that Shawn can handle himself, please just – " Karen's feeble attempt at calming Henry down was cut short when Henry spun around and glared at her.

"No, Karen, what I know is that Shawn had hurt arms and a sprained ankle already today, not to mention that he was dragged away with a gun to his head right in front of the entire police force and no one could help him or even find out where the hell those bastards took him! Not to mention, he just so happened not to have his cell phone, so even if he got the opportunity to escape on his own, he couldn't run because of his ankle, and he couldn't call us! So no, I will not calm down, not until someone finds my damn son!"

Henry stood, breathing heavily, glaring around the Chief's office, fists clenched, for several moments longer, before he finally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, putting a hand up to his head.

"I – I'm sorry… I know you couldn't do anything, just…" Henry didn't finish his sentence, turning eagerly as the door opened. "Anything?"

Lassiter shook his head, avoiding Henry's eyes. "The plates were painted over, and the van was very nondescript – there are kinds like it all over the city. And the kidnappers themselves wore masks and didn't have any distinctive traits, other than being large and strong. But we're working on it."

Henry nodded once, then turned and strode out of the office, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

--

12:25PM, Basement

"Oh god…" Shawn's eyes flickered closed then open again, as he tried not to vomit.

He failed, and soon he was jerking in his chains, heaving, with tears streaming down his face from pain. Finally, after he stopped, he coughed heavily, lifting his head. "Please, Sophie – "

Sophie rolled her eyes and nodded to her brother. "Hit him one more time, Jake. But watch out for his legs this time, okay?"

Jake nodded, his large face flushing as he recalled how the first time he'd moved to hit Shawn, the psychic had kicked him right between the legs, rendering him useless for a good fifteen minutes.

Shawn had been hit only in the torso up till now; cracking several ribs he was sure. Because of this, the moment he heard Sophie speak, he prepared himself for pain in that same area, and as such, was completely unprepared from the leg that shot out and hit him right in between his own legs, in a mockery of his own earlier retaliation.

Shawn screamed at the pain, eyes rolling back in his head. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Sophie, watching him with a little half-smile on her face.

Had he been able to check his watch, he would have known it was only 12:30. Less than two hours had passed since his kidnapping.

.

Sophie rolled her eyes again as she took in the sight of her brutally beaten ex-boyfriend dangling unconscious in front of her. She probably should have stopped her brothers a while ago – after all, she was a doctor – or learning to be one, anyway – and she did know what kind of damage they were doing to Shawn. His arm muscles were probably not doing so well, having supported his entire body weight for over an hour. Not to mention the cracked ribs he had from the beating he'd received, and his concussion from being knocked out on the way here.

But somehow, she really couldn't bring herself to care. She'd had a grudge on Shawn for quite some time – basically since he'd dumped her, even though they had both known it was coming. At the time, she hadn't made a big deal out of her broken heart – her family had needed her, and she had no time to think about revenge – but now, she had all the time in the world.

Sophie needed the bank money for her brothers. Yes, the 19-year-old twins looked perfectly healthy, but they were actually mentally ill. Jake had the brain of a ten-year-old; granted a ten-year-old that had absolutely no problem beating a man to unconsciousness, but that was simply because he did everything she asked of him. He rarely talked and when he did, it was only to Sophie herself.

And Eric… Even Sophie wasn't sure what was wrong with Eric. Most of the time he behaved almost exactly like Jake did – but occasionally, he would do something that made Sophie think he really did understand what was going on, and might be okay… But it never lasted.

Sophie shook herself out of her thoughts and stepped forward to begin letting Shawn down from the chains. She'd do that much, at least. After all, she didn't want him to die. Not just yet, anyway.

Sophie smiled as she remembered the plan. Originally, she'd just wanted some money to help keep her and her brothers afloat until she got through med school; her parents had died several years ago and Jake and Eric were in no shape to take care of anyone, not even themselves. But now that Jake had successfully kidnapped Shawn, the psychic who'd hurt his sister's feelings, Sophie was getting much grander ideas.

She had never told Shawn she had brothers let alone what was wrong with them, not wanting to scare him away. So when he said it was her brothers that had helped rob the bank, she knew he really was psychic.

And if she had a psychic on her side…

She wouldn't have to worry about anything, ever again. Shawn could psychically help her out – telling her how to avoid the police, helping her to rob more banks and not get caught, even tell her the Lottery numbers if necessary! She might as well quit med school right now!

But what she'd said earlier still stood. If Shawn became a problem for her and her brothers, Sophie had no problem killing him. It might be harder without his help, but she didn't need him for anything.

Finishing lowering Shawn to the ground, Sophie walked over and, with a smile, leaned down to peck him on the mouth before finally turning to go. "See you later Shawn. I think I'm gonna go get some lunch."

She walked up the basement stairs, leaving him lying down in the dark, with a smile on her face, and whistling a cheery tune.

"Jake, Eric! Either of you guys want to go get some McDonalds?"

--

5:30PM, Basement

Shawn woke the second time alone in the dark, in even more pain than before. For a single, blissful moment, all he felt was a pounding headache… but then everything else hit him, all at once. He moaned in pain, his eyes slipping shut once more, as he felt pain attack him from every direction.

His arms ached, not only because they'd been holding him up for god knew how long, but also because he was being held up by handcuffs which had, at some point, cut into his wrists, so that blood trickled all the way down his arms. His entire torso was most likely one big bruise set over cracked – if not broken – ribs, which wasn't helped by his lying on cold, wet stone.

Lying on cold, wet stone?

Shawn reluctantly felt the ground with his hand. Yes, he was finally on the ground, no weight on his arms. Thank god.

After nearly twenty minutes, Shawn forced himself to stop crying and block out the pain. He let his eyes adjust to the very dim light, sitting up – which in itself took five minutes because of the pain in his chest and his rushing head – and looking around.

He'd been right earlier; he was in a basement. And though Shawn had never been to Sophie's house, he was willing to bet it was hers.

Great, I know where I'm locked up with no cell phone and no way out. That's a big help.

Shawn sighed, trying to push the negative thoughts out of his head as he looked around. There were some shelves with tools against a back wall, and a washer and dryer closer to him, but other than that, the basement was pretty much empty. Shawn's heart leapt for a moment when he saw the short set of stairs leading to one of those slanted doors out of basements, but soon his sharp eyes caught sight of the padlock closing it and he swore.

Still… if he could get out of these handcuffs and get to those tools, he might be able to break it…

Shawn finally looked down at his hands. The entire time he'd been sitting up, his arms had been aching like crazy, though he'd tried to tune out the pain. But now, he finally looked – and had to close his eyes for a second to control his gag reflex.

Shawn normally had an iron stomach, but something about the knowledge that this was his blood, his mangled flesh, made him suddenly sympathetic to how Gus felt every time they saw a mutilated body.

His hands themselves were fine, that wasn't the problem. But his wrists… Shawn had no idea exactly how long he'd been hanging, but he had jerked around a lot while he was being beaten; though that wasn't exactly his fault. But the combination of hanging from the handcuffs and yanking himself around had caused the cuffs to dig deep into Shawn's wrists.

He'd known they were bleeding, but even so… the sheer amount of blood, not to mention the way almost half of the width of the cuffs was embedded in Shawn's skin, made Shawn very unwilling to even contemplate doing anything with them.

You have to, Shawn. You have to get out of there before they get back. Stop being such a pansy and think!A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father was yelling at him, and Shawn reluctantly closed his eyes, trying to think.

How the hell could he get these cuffs off?

He mentally catalogued the items in the room, mentally turning on the lights so he had a better view. That dark shadow leaning against the wall… that was an axe. And that little object on the ground not that far away from him was…

Shawn hardly dared to open his eyes. There's no way I'm that lucky. But he opened them on the slight chance he was – and there it was, not five feet away.

A key.

Shawn actually felt tears of relief rolling down his cheeks. Yet again, his magnificent luck had struck. He was going to get out of this. All he needed to do was pick up that key, and unlock his hands.

--

7:00PM, Police Station

It had been nearly eight hours, and the sun was sinking below the ocean, when Gus arrived. Henry had called both him and Madeleine around 2:00, and both had immediately headed back to town. Gus hadn't been too far away, though traffic had delayed him this long, but Madeleine Spencer had been in Italy at the time, so she had no hope of arriving until at least the next day.

Gus screeched into a space, struggling out of his car and running as fast as possible into the station. Once inside, he hesitated for a moment, as if unsure where to go – but when he noticed that both Lassiter and Juliet's desks were empty, he spun and strode into the Chief's office, slamming the door closed behind him.

"What happened?"

Gus swallowed hard as he took in the sight before him: Chief Vick sitting behind her desk, gaze downcast and face dark; Lassiter sitting in front of her, going over paperwork with a determined look in his eyes; Juliet anxiously pacing back and forth holding a cell-phone in her hands, as though waiting for a call; and Henry sitting on the couch, head in his hands.

Oh god. This was bad.

Karen glanced up at Gus, her face serious. "Mr. Guster. Shawn has been… well, he's been kidnapped."

For a moment, Gus was stunned speechless, even though he'd already been told that much over the phone. "How can you be sure? Maybe he just, just went on vacation – or he could be playing a prank. Did you get a ransom note? He might have – " Gus knew it was hopeless even before Karen spoke. Shawn would never pretend to have something so serious happen to him – not to the police.

"No, Mr. Guster. We…" Karen seemed ashamed. "We saw it happen."

"What?" Gus stared, mouth open. "What do you mean, you saw it happen?"

Karen sighed, looking down at her desk again. It seemed as though she wasn't going to speak for a moment, but then she said, "He was taken hostage during a bank robbery. The robbers came out with a gun to his head, and before we could get an opening to shoot, they were gone."

Here Lassiter took over. "They left in a van with the plates painted over. It's a common type around here, and there wasn't anything distinguishing about it. I've been looking over traffic reports for any vans of the same type – but it's a slim chance it'll be in here."

Gus blinked. "But – what else are we doing? There has to be something, right?"

Lassiter shrugged. "There isn't much else. We've already interviewed all the witnesses, but none of them could give us any identifying information about the robbers. We've got cars out everywhere, checking all the vans in the city, and O'Hara's waiting for a call, but… other than that…"

Gus stared at Lassiter, shocked. No matter how much he and Shawn made fun of the older detective, neither one of them really disliked him, and Gus knew for a fact that Shawn trusted Lassiter – with his life if not with his secrets. And when Gus had been called, it had never really occurred to him that Lassiter might not be able to help Shawn.

Sure, he himself had witnessed several cases that Lassiter had been unable to solve, but this was different. This was Shawn. How could they not be able to do anything?

A phone rang, and for the first time since he'd begun talking to Karen and Lassiter, Gus remembered Juliet and Henry. Both had been unaffected by Gus' presence: Juliet continuing to pace and Henry still staring down at the floor, head in his hands.

But now they both did something new, Henry's head shooting up as he stared at Juliet, an unguarded look of pure hope on his face, and Juliet instantly freezing in her tracks, flipping the phone open and bringing it up to her ear so fast Gus could barely see her hand move.

"Hello?"

There was a short pause; then Juliet's tense face crumpled with relief and tears instantly came to her eyes. "Shawn."