AN - Alright!! This should be fun! This is actually the first Psych fic I ever wrote. However, there was one I was able to post before this one XD I had to finish this one first. I broke it up into separate chapters for easier reading... I hope!
Anyway! I hope yall enjoy the story! And thanks in advance for reading!
Feel Outside the Box
By Tippy
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Henry paced the length of his backyard as he held the cell phone to his ear. Jenna still sat at the picnic table, worriedly watching the older man as he made another turn. He'd already tried his son's phone again, receiving no answer. After trying Gus and only getting the man's voice mail, the worried lines on his brow deepened. There was only one more place he could try.
"Detective Lassiter," Carlton's stern voice answered, causing Henry to stop.
"Detective! This is Henry Spencer, I need to know if you've heard from or seen my son today." His voice left no room for question or argument.
"No, last time I saw him was yesterday." Lassiter paused in thought. "Why?"
Henry frowned, "I just called him. He got cut off and I think it has something to do with that underground fight club case."
He heard the hushed curse from the detective before he spoke. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"No-" Henry stopped as his thoughts went back to the kitchen table, "Wait..." He didn't elaborate as he ran inside to the kitchen and saw the paper from the day before still laying on the table.
"What? Do you know where he is?" Lassiter sounded impatient.
The elder Spencer placed a finger on an address marked with the day's date and a time. "Yes... I think I do." He quickly read the detective the address before hanging up. Turning around, he finally noticed Jenna standing in the doorway, her eyes on him, worry still pulling at her frown. Placing a hand on her shoulder and bending to her eye level, he spoke. "I need you to get back home. I have to go find Shawn."
She didn't move immediately. "Is he going to be okay?"
He couldn't see the point of lying to the psychic, so he gave a vague "I don't know." He could see his own fear punctuated on the girl's face and he added, "But I'll call when we find him, okay?" When she nodded, he turned her around and gently led her outside. She was on her bike and out of sight a minute later and he quickly turned, grabbed his keys and headed for his truck. You better be okay, kid.
oOoOoOo
He'd been in the small room for about half an hour and he'd already learned that most of the people the police were searching for were sitting around him. Apparently, some of the captives had been killed. Not by the other fighters, but by Nate Porter's men for disobedience. Seemed the ringleader preferred cooperation over resistance. Good to know.
He, along with his other cellmates, was a bit surprised when the door opened again and two men stepped inside. It wasn't time for the fights to begin, so something had to be up. The goons made their way to Shawn and roughly grabbed his upper arms, pulling him to his feet.
"Ow, hey! Seriously, make up your mind! Inside or out!" It appeared out was their choice and a sharp backhand to his already sore cheek was enough to quiet his banter.
"Who were you speaking to?" Nate demanded as he stood in front of the slightly dazed fake psychic.
Shawn raised a brow, "Well, these two actually." He gestured to the two holding his arms. A quick nod from Nate to the man on his left, and he was already regretting his answer as the goon twisted his arm behind him and gripped the hair on the back of his head. He let out a sharp hiss as the man jerked with both arms.
"On this," Nate held up the cell phone. "Who were you talking to?"
"My dad," Shawn started, figuring there was no point in lying. "He wanted to know why I was late for lunch." Narrowing his eyes, he watched the leader's face. "Why?"
"There's a detective outside asking questions." Anger was evident in Nate's voice as he stepped closer. "They don't have a warrant, so they're not going to be coming in any time soon." He leaned in, his eyes portraying the anger that was in his voice. "You better hope they don't get one... otherwise, you're the first to die.
"Alright!" Nate called to his men. "It's time to get out, leave the ring and get the fighters to the truck. They're of more value than the gear!" To the men closest to him he added, "We'll torch the place when everyone's out, got it?" The men nodded and got to work moving the people out of the small room. "Bring him."
The two men holding Shawn quickly followed after their leader as he headed to the center of the warehouse, where a support beam stood. Grabbing some chain, rope, and a lock, he threw the rope to one of the men.
"Tie his hands. He stays here until we're ready to leave." The men obeyed, tightly binding Shawn's wrists, before pushing him against the metal beam.
"This really isn't necessary," he protested, letting out a pained grunt as they tightened the chain over his chest and stomach. "Really! I can just go tell them this isn't the place! Send them somewhere else!" The click of the lock sounded, crushing any hope of that idea working. A second later a heavy fist slammed into his cheek, sending flashes of stars across his vision. He fought to remain conscious, needing to focus on the events around him, but a second blow pushed the darkness into his mind and his chin fell against his chest as his body went slack.
He didn't hear as Nate gave the order to leave him in the building when they set it on fire if the police made it inside.
oOoOoOo
Jenna lay on her stomach, a pillow wrapped in her arms as she held her eyes shut tight. She'd gone home like Henry had said, but she couldn't help thinking about Shawn. The image of him in his Santa hat crossed her mind and she focused on it, desperate to know if he was okay. For a while, she could only sense his fear, not as strong as before, but still there. Not wanting to break that connection until she knew he was safe, she continued to stare at her mind's image.
A few more minutes passed; she wasn't sure how many, and she could feel his fear rise again. She muffled a cry into her pillow as a sharp stinging sensation filled her cheek and her eyes brimmed with tears. She held the pillow tighter, waiting for the pain to disappear, but after a minute there was a pressure on her wrists, making her want to move them. Another minute and she felt the first blow.
Her terrified, pain filled eyes flew open and she jumped off the bed, stumbling as the previous pain and concentration left her lightheaded. When she finally straightened up, she ran out of her bedroom door and into the kitchen. Her mother was by the sink, cleaning dishes.
"Mom!" She tried to keep her fearful voice low. "Do you have Mr. Spencer's cell phone number?"
The tears streaming down her daughter's cheeks startled Sally McGillie into dropping a plate back into the sink with a loud crash. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" She placed her hands on Jenna's trembling shoulders.
"I need to call Mr. Spencer. Shawn's hurt!" More tears spilled down her cheeks as she watched her mom hesitantly grab the phone off the counter. A moment later, Henry picked up.
"Mr. Spencer? It's Sally McGillie," the woman started. She paused as Henry spoke. "Yes, she's right here with me... Mr. Spencer, she said Shawn was hurt? Does that mean anything to you?" There was another pause as he spoke. "Yes, you can talk with her." She pulled the phone from her ear. "He wants to talk to you, okay?"
Jenna nodded and took the phone, "Mr. Spencer?" she sniffled.
"Hey, what happened to Shawn?" His voice was smooth and calm as he spoke.
"H-he got slapped, I think, his cheek stung... I think they also tied him up. His wrists hurt... and then he got hit in the face really hard. I think he's really hurt!" She was crying again.
"Alright, the police are already here, so don't worry. We'll get him, okay?" Henry tried to soothe her fears.
"Okay..." she said quietly. On the other end, Henry said goodbye and she turned off the phone, handing it back to her mother before quickly wrapping her arms around the woman's waist. Please be okay... She continued to cry, listening to her mother's words as she tried to calm her child.
oOoOoOo
Carlton Lassiter was resting his arm against the roof of his car, radio in hand as he waited for a warrant confirmation, when Henry Spencer practically ran up to him. His face was strained with worry and anger; towards whom, he couldn't be sure.
"What are you-" He was cut off as the elder Spencer raised his hand.
"It's Shawn," he began. "He's been attacked, hit a few times, we need to get in there." His stern eyes met Lassiter's, but without a warrant, there was nothing he could do right now.
"We can't, not without a warrant..." He pursed his lips, steadying himself for the onslaught of a worried father, when his brow furrowed. "Wait, how do you know he's injured? Did you see him? Did he call?"
Henry shook his head, appearing hesitant to answer. "I got a call, from someone who connected with him... psychically." It was obvious that wasn't the answer Henry wanted to give, and it certainly wasn't one Lassiter wanted to hear.
"You've gotta be kidding me." The head detective pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing this wasn't going to go well. "Look, even if there's another psychic who knows what's going on in there, we still can't do anything without that warrant. Now if you- Hey!"
Henry had brushed past him, headed towards the warehouse entrance. A hand on his arm didn't stop him as he yanked free.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Lassiter demanded.
"You may not be able to go in, but I can! Just come after me for breaking and entering! I don't care." Henry yelled, already headed towards the entrance again. "That's my son in there!"
Again, the detective grabbed the determined father's arm, this time halting his forward motion. For a split second, he thought Henry was going to punch him, but a call over his shoulder caught their attention.
"We got it!" Juliet O'Hara called from the door of her vehicle, a paper in hand.
"Alright!" Lassiter called to the gathered officers. "Everyone, follow my lead! This is a possibly hostile situation. Be aware of hostages. Two teams! You four with me." He pointed to four of the officers. "The rest are with O'Hara." Before they headed out, the detective turned to Henry. "Stay here." When the older man looked ready to argue, he added, "We'll get him out, but I can't have civilians in there. Stay here. We'll let you in when it's clear."
Henry didn't say anything, instead turned and walked back to the line of cruisers. Satisfied, Lassiter moved to his unit and headed for the entrance.
oOoOoOo
Nate cursed under his breath as he looked out the window at the advancing detectives and officers. It was time to leave.
Moving over towards the group, the last of the captives being hauled out of the small room, he started giving orders. "It's time to go, light the place and meet at the truck." The men nodded, pulling out lighters as Nate and the others, along with their prisoners, headed for the back exit.
oOoOoOo
Lassiter knocked hard on the door, waiting for the man from earlier to return. A minute passed with no answer. Alright, here we go... Steeling himself for the next moment, he called out, "This is the police! We have a warrant to search the premises! Open up!"
They waited a beat, the detective's nodding their intent as no one answered. Lassiter tested the knob, finding it locked. "On three, one... two... three!"
With one swift kick, the door flew open. Guns drawn, the group rushed inside. Down a hall they hit another unlocked door and threw it open, only to falter backwards as a billow of smoke entered the hall.
"It's all on fire!" they heard O'Hara cry, covering her mouth and nose with her hand.
"Get outside! There's gotta be another exit!" Lassiter ordered as they headed out.
oOoOoOo
Henry was more than angry. He was furious... and terrified. His son was in that building at the hands of someone willing to hurt him, while he stood outside, helplessly waiting for the SBPD officers to do their job.
The father in him wanted to run in, head first and get his son away from those people, but the cop in him knew better... knew he'd only be in the way. He leaned against on of the police vehicles and brought his hands to his face, trying to rub out the lines of worry.
When he dropped his hands again and turned back to the entrance, he noticed the door was open again and the officers were coming out, headed towards the back end of the warehouse. That wasn't long enough... what's going- His thoughts were stopped as he noticed the clouds of smoke billowing out of the doorway and windows of the warehouse. It's on fire... Shawn! Henry stopped himself from running in immediately, logic saying that the fire was to get rid of the evidence. Shawn was probably at the back of the building with the others.
"...I think they tied him up. His wrists hurt..."
The girl's words came back to him... and then he'd been hit... pretty hard apparently... Realization hit and he felt his heart drop. He could still be in there... Without hesitating, Henry took off towards the entrance at full speed, determined to make sure his son lived through this.
Covering his mouth and nose with his hand, he ran through the smoke filled hall. At the end, he saw the bright red fire extinguisher attached to the wall. Grabbing it, he made his way down the steps and into the main area of the warehouse, stopping to take out the pin and put out the small flames lighting his path.
He was about to continue forward when a hand landed on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to face with an irritated head detective who also carried a red cylinder in his hands.
"Shawn's in here!" Henry clarified.
Lassiter called back, "You don't know that! But I'm not letting you go though this place alone!" He stepped forward. "Now let's get this done before the fire gets too big!"
Henry nodded and followed after the detective, both men putting out small flames as they went. It seemed the blaze was confined to the main entrance side of the building, the back half free of fire.
As the two men made it past the first half of the building, they noticed a limp figure tied against one of the support beams, dangerously close to the growing flames.
"Shawn!" Henry called, rushing forward. He set his extinguisher down, intent to check on his son. Lassiter followed, quickly dispatching many of the approaching flames. "Shawn?" There was no response. "Come on, kid. Wake up." He patted his son's cheek, earning a few pained groans. It seemed good enough.
"We have to get these chains off!" Henry called, circling around the beam.
The detective followed to where Henry stood and stared at the large lock that held the links together. "Get ready to catch him when I shoot this thing off!" he ordered and drew his gun, the older man complying.
When Henry was out of the way, Lassiter took careful aim at the lock before letting off two rounds into the hunk of metal. It splintered open, twisting to the side with a click as it hit the metal support. He moved forward and pulled the links free, letting them fall to the floor. Moving around the pillar again, he found Henry supporting an unconscious Shawn, an arm draped over his shoulder. Carlton took the other side, taking hold of the younger man's belt.
"There should be a back exit!" he called to Henry, pulling the two in the general direction. They had to maneuver around some fallen crates, but it was better than trying to get through the fire. Moments later, they found the exit; a single door located in the back corner.
Lassiter pushed it open, exiting sideways to make it through. Once outside, he noticed the truck and his officers already situating the cuffed individuals. He saw Nathan Porter staring at them wide eyed. Apparently, he hadn't expected anyone to find Spencer until after the fire was done.
Suppressing his anger and replacing it with a professional calm, he moved the two Spencer men away from the building and helped lay the unconscious one on the ground. "O'Hara!"
His partner, having assessed that the capture was complete, moved over to join him. Worry filled her face as she took in the sight. "Shawn!" she gasped.
"He's alive," Lassiter clarified. "We need EMTs and that fire needs be taken care of." She nodded and pulled out her phone.
A harsh cough caught Lassiter's attention and he turned back to see a semi-conscious Shawn being supported by his father.
"Slow, deep breaths, kid," his father instructed. "You're safe now."
Tbc...
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Yay! Chapter one! So the story is actually finished as previously mentioned... sorta... I split it up into 5 chapters so itll be an easier read :D It might be 1 or 2 days before i post the next chapter! Hope yall enjoyed the start!
Thanks for reading and Lots o' love!!
Tippy
