Author's Note: HEY, IT'S THE FINALE. Thanks everybody for reading/favoriting/reviewing! I appreciate it. Have a Merry Christmas or not if you don't celebrate. See you all next time
"Goddamn it," Henry gasps out before lunging forward and enveloping his son in a hug. Shawn embraces him back this time, squeezing so tight that Henry can feel the pressure on his ribs. He gives his son an evaluating look, this time able to see scars on his arms and a general tremor that wracks his body every couple of seconds. Henry is nervous as to what this means. He hopes that Peter can help him when and if they make it out of this place.
"Are you okay?" Henry asks, knowing it's a stupid question.
Shawn gives him a wry smile, "There's a helluva lot wrong with me right now, dad but…" he looks at Peter, Gus and then back at his father, "I think I'll be alright."
Gus reaches forward and hugs him too. "I'm glad we got to you," he says. Shawn looks at him and his expression says enough for Gus to know what he would say.
"So," Shawn swivels around to Peter. "You came all this way, huh?"
Peter's face is solemn; perhaps he thinks Shawn will come at him again. "I came to help," he says honestly.
Shawn claps him on the shoulder and Peter winces. Shawn smirks. "I'm glad you're on board," he says.
Henry can't help himself; he has to ask. "What the hell was that back there?"
"I saw Tom Cruise coming." Shawn says, as if that makes sense.
"Tom Cruise?" Gus echoes.
"The boss, the guy who monitors all the patients, he looks like Tom Cruise," Shawn says hastily. "I saw him coming and I knew he'd shoot you guys if I acted like I was happy to see you. I had to pretend like it had worked."
"Pretend like what had worked?" Henry demands fearfully.
Shawn looks from Henry, to the floor and then to Peter, who he knows will know what Shawn is referencing. "Wait," he holds up a hand suddenly to his forehead as he lunges forward.
"Shawn!" Henry makes to catch him but the psychic lifts himself up and stares at his father with haunted eyes. "Someone's coming," he says breathlessly before reaching for the Taser in his pocket and swinging the door open.
"Wait," Gus reaches for his gun, determined not to let Shawn go out alone but seconds later they can hear the whine of the Taser and a strangled shout as a man collapses onto the ground.
"Shawn!" Henry shouts, jumping out of the room but when he turns he can see Shawn crouched over a man, panting. He looks up at his father and Henry resists the urge to shudder. His son's eyes are dark and his stance determined. It is almost like he has done this many times before, fighting to emerge the victor, the survivor. With a twist in his gut, Henry realizes that this is probably true.
"Come on," Shawn says urgently, snapping into an upright position. He tosses the gun he had snatched from the guard to Peter. "There's more." Staring at the pathway in front of him, there is nothing but if Shawn focuses, he can see one hundred and twenty seconds into the hazy future, where a group of three men, accompanied by the suppressant one, will charge them with both Tasers and guns.
"Shit," Shawn turns to his father. "We won't make it. We'll have to do this differently."
Henry has to pause and watch as his son processes these images. He had molded Shawn into being a man that could decipher the clues faster than any revered detective. By the age of ten, Shawn had been able to walk into a room and tell Henry within seven seconds what number of people were wearing brown shoes. He had always been talented but now he is something else entirely.
"What happens?" Henry asks, wanting desperately to know what images are colliding in Shawn's head. His son looks hesitant but finally says, "There's a man they keep here that when he is close enough, your powers don't work anymore. If I can't see what's about to happen, we won't get out."
"Which way is he coming from?"
Shawn points to a hallway behind them.
Henry sighs and forces himself to say this next, "Let's split up."
Fear swims in Shawn's eyes. "What?"
"You need to stay sharp," Henry says, "Peter and I can handle ourselves. You and Gus make your way out of here. Find a safe place. We'll come to you."
"But, dad…" Shawn whispers. He doesn't say what they are both thinking.
"It'll be okay," Henry says, embracing his son quickly. He pulls away and then halfheartedly winks. "Or at least, you'll tell me so, right?"
Shawn smiles nervously. "Good luck, Pop," he says before he signals to Gus and they run in the opposite direction. Shawn halts before he is out of eyesight and takes one last look at Henry. His father stands opposite Peter, gun at the ready. He notices Shawn lingering and the two men share a long look, each knowing what the other is saying.
Finally, Shawn breaks away and Henry points his gun straight ahead. "Are you ready?" he asks Peter.
Shawn leads Gus to the 'center' location, two corridors down, where Ryan and six other men and women are standing.
"I nabbed the security codes for their rooms," Shawn explains hurriedly to Gus. "If I leave, they all leave."
Gus nods. "Where do we go?"
"The parking garage," Ryan says. "We can't stay here; I've rigged the explosives."
"What?!" Gus turns to his best friend. "We can't leave your dad and Peter here!"
Shawn's eyebrows furrow together and his vision slants as he concentrates on the actions that lay ahead. In the disjointed haze, he can see Peter and Henry running towards them, looking terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
"They make it," Shawn finally says, snapping out of his stupor.
Ryan generates a flame in his hand as they make their way down the hallway and they only get a few feet closer to the exit before Shawn stops them. "There's another one, coming from the right!" he says in a shout as they all scramble to get out of the way of the bullets being fired. One of the people in their cluster, a boy, probably a teenager, turns to Shawn, "I can do this," he offers.
Gus looks on in awe at his best friend who is leading this group of people, putting hands on shoulders and embracing others. It's something he always knew that Shawn could be but seeing it now and the reason it has happened makes Gus both intrigued and melancholy at the same time.
"Are you sure?" Shawn asks the kid. He looks concerned, almost fatherly and it makes Gus reminiscent of all the looks Henry has served Shawn over the years.
"I've got it," the kid ducks out from under Shawn's arm and disappears with a glimmer.
Gus blinks in surprise.
The kid appears behind the security guard and taps him on the shoulder. The guard swivels around and the kid disappears again, glimmering into view behind him now. This goes on for a few moments, the guard pointing his gun in this direction and that one, until the kid wears him out and he stands still in confusion for a moment before the kid walks up to him from behind and knocks him over the head. He confiscates the gun and is about to slide it into his back pocket when Shawn snaps his fingers.
"Hey," he says sharply. "What are you doing?"
The kid grins at him sheepishly.
"You are way too young," Shawn chides, handing the gun off to the woman next to him.
"So what does that make you?" the kid smirks at him.
"An adult," Shawn cuffs him playfully on the back of the head. He looks to the others and says, "Let's go."
The group of nine make their way out to a parking garage and Ryan points to a large van used for transporting people like them.
"Will it fit all of us?" Gus asks.
"We'll manage."
Shawn watches as one of the women in the group closes her eyes and presses her hand against the driver's side window. Slowly, her hand sinks further and further until it has passed through the window. With her eyes still shut, she finds the lock and unlatches it. Slowly, she pulls her hand away, the window rippling as her hand passes through it.
She smiles at Shawn. "We're in," she says gleefully.
Gus turns to Shawn in shock. "Did she just…?"
"Yup," Shawn smiles proudly. "Melissa's been working on that for weeks."
"So can you walk through walls and stuff?" Gus can't help but ask.
Melissa shrugs, still smiling. "Maybe I'll show you one day."
"Ugh," Shawn groans at her flirtatious manner. "Everybody in." they all clamor into the vehicle, Gus sitting in the passenger seat. Shawn stares down at the steering wheel with determination, attempting to remember the last time he had done something like this. Seeing ahead is something Shawn now does with ease but remembering the past has become more of a strain; it comes back to him in murky flashes, wordless and disjointed.
"You ever steal a car before?"
Shawn nearly gives himself whiplash at the sound of the familiar voice. His head snaps around to see Wyatt crouched between Ryan and Melissa in one of the many backseats. He waves casually.
Shawn's face breaks into a wide grin. "Sort of," he answers Wyatt's question.
Gus turns to the psychic. "Who are you talking to?" he asks quizzically.
Shawn looks back at Wyatt who seems equally as happy to see him. "An old friend," he replies quietly.
Meanwhile, Peter and Henry have successfully avoided dying.
Peter managed to clip two guards and one doctor, trying his best not to shoot anyone in a vital place. He had never handled a gun in his entire life but Henry had breathlessly lead him through a tutorial that, condensed, basically was, "Just point and shoot." It had been disconcerting, of course, to actually shoot people but before they had gotten on the plane to New York, Henry had given him an out, letting him know that what they were about to do certainly wasn't legal or even safe.
Peter hadn't hesitated. He had gotten to know Shawn and had talked with him in-depth many times about his overall duties to the public and the responsibilities he held within the SBPD. He knew Shawn – perhaps not as much as Gus and definitely not as much as Henry but he had gotten to understand the man. He couldn't leave him in this hellhole; he took as a vow as a doctor to help those he could. Shawn fell under that category, certainly.
Peter and Henry eventually make their way outside and Peter spots a large van barreling towards them from the parking garage. Peter can see Shawn at the wheel.
"How the hell did he manage that?" Peter asks Henry. Henry smiles and says, "I guess he remembered what he's done before."
Peter can't ask him to elaborate on that further because the van screeches to a stop in front of them. "Hurry," Ryan shouts out from his window. "The explosives are about to go off!"
"Explosives?!" Henry looks at Shawn with panic. His son waves him inside the van and so Henry allows Peter to climb through first, making his way to the back and Henry sits between Shawn and Gus, clapping a firm hand on Shawn's shoulder. The van swings around to pull away from the building and Shawn glances at his father, spotting a crimson spatter on his shirt collar.
"Hey," he points to it, "are you okay?"
Henry looks down at it and almost laughs. "It's the other guy's."
Shawn looks up at his father with something like admiration. This is a side of Henry he sees often enough but never with this…magnitude. He's always known that his father cares for him, at least in his own way, and he's always been protective but this is definitely…different. Before he can open his mouth to reply, the ground shakes and the world brightens.
The explosives have gone off.
The van jerks forward as Shawn tries desperately to turn the wheel to get to a safer distance as the heat searches for purchase. The tires squeal as Shawn turns them a full three hundred and sixty degrees into a nearby vacant lot. Ryan grabs onto Gus's headrest and grits his teeth while the woman next to him shuts her eyes and mumbles something under her breath. Henry watches in fascination as a blue-green glow surrounds the vehicle.
"What's happening?" Wyatt shouts into Shawn's ear. The psychic turns around and says simply, "Force field."
The roar of the explosion is suddenly muffled, like it is happening miles away. Debris rains down and around them but never touches the car.
A few of the people inside the van clap and cheer, patting the woman on the back. Wyatt smirks and claps Shawn on the shoulder and Henry and Gus stare in awe.
Shawn looks around at everyone and smiles, relieved but he doesn't have much time to feel this way before his hand clutches at his forehead.
Henry pauses, noting that Shawn did this earlier, too. "What is it?" he asks quickly. "What do you see?"
"Behind us!" Shawn shouts.
Sure enough, a large SUV barrels out of the charred parking lot of the where the organization's building once stood.
"Shit – drive!" someone shouts from one of the backseats.
"Right, good idea, like I was just going to sit here," Shawn gripes as he presses his foot against the gas. The car jolts forward and everyone clamors to grab onto something solid.
"Hold on," Shawn shouts, jerking the wheel to the right as the van teeters dangerously close to the road.
"Shawn…" Wyatt says warningly from the backseat. "It's him."
Shawn gulps, knowing who Wyatt is referencing. Shit. "Damn, I could use a cigarette," he mutters to himself.
"What? You smoke?" Peter yelps from the backseat.
"You could kill yourself Shawn," Gus pitches in, looking concerned.
"That's it - when we get home, I'm showing you photos of blackened lungs," Henry threatens as the van jerks to the left.
"Great, just like fifth grade all over again," Shawn quips as he glances nervously in the rearview mirror. The SUV is gaining on them. Scott, the teleporter, glances out the back window and reports that yes, it is in fact the leader, Tom Cruise. Funny that Shawn never learned his name after all this time.
"Shawn…" Ryan shouts nervously as the SUV grazes the back bumper of the van.
Shawn doesn't even have time to turn around and look or mumble a curse word before the SUV slams into the back of the van. Everyone jolts forward and Ryan's head roughly hits the back of Gus's chair. Blood blooms along his hairline.
"Are you okay?" Peter lunges from the backseat to assist the younger man but the SUV reverses and slams into them again and Peter ends up falling in Henry's lap.
"Sorry," he apologizes sheepishly.
"God damn it," Shawn hisses, attempting to accelerate but the van is already going as fast as it can and in a flash, he sees thirty-eight seconds ahead: dead end.
"We're going to have to turn around," Shawn shouts. "Everybody hold on!" he turns the van quickly, so that they are again facing the road to drive back in the direction they came. Unfortunately, the SUV had caught up. It idles in front of them and Shawn mutters, "Shit," before they crash together.
The impact of the SUV is tremendous. The woman who had created the force field earlier attempts in desperation to protect them but can only manage to shield herself, the teleporter and Peter. Ryan grabs onto Melissa and they lay on the van floor as glass shards rain down onto them. Gus grips onto the door handle and grits his teeth with exertion so that he doesn't slam it onto the dashboard. Henry is not so lucky – his entire body jerks forward because he is not sitting in a proper seat and promptly collapses backwards into Gus's lap. Shawn is miraculously the only one virtually unharmed – mostly because Wyatt climbs over from the back in the nick of time and literally shields Shawn with his body.
"Thanks, buddy," Shawn pants out, looking over at his unconscious father with worried eyes.
"He'll be okay," Wyatt assures him. "I'll make sure of it."
From the SUV, Tom Cruise wrenches open his door and collapses onto the pavement, grimacing but making deliberate eye contact with Shawn.
Melissa and Ryan peer out of the windows and say in unison, "We'll help you, Shawn."
"Yeah," the teleporter kid grins. "What's one last fight?"
Shawn smiles at the support of his friends but he shakes his head. "Sorry guys," he says, "I think I have to do this on my own."
"Are you sure?" Ryan reaches out and touches Shawn's arm. "What if he's got a gun?"
Shawn smirks. "Then I'll let him know I have one too." He pulls his out of his jacket pocket and looks over again at his father with hesitation. He has a small cut raised above his eyebrow and his eyes are shut – seemingly fine but Shawn knows that exteriors don't always display the interior issue.
"We'll protect him," the teleporter kid says, noticing Shawn's gaze.
"You know, this is kind of unfair," Wyatt complains from his spot next to Shawn. "I disappear for a little while and you go off and make a ton of new friends." He smiles to let the psychic know he is joking but a frown folds into Shawn's expression at the thought of how he acquired these new friends.
"Yeah," Shawn looks back at the men and women crowded in the van. "I did make a few friends."
"We've got your back," Melissa says and Shawn watches as Tom Cruise rights himself, leaning against his vehicle, his entire body slumped but still locking venomous eyes with him.
Shawn puts a hesitant hand on the door and finally swings it open. Tom Cruise is half-leaning, half-standing against the SUV and he cocks his gun at Shawn.
"Mr. Spencer," Tom Cruise grits between his teeth, one hand protectively held over a spot on his side. Shawn holds onto his gun but keeps it down at his side as he walks a few feet close to Tom. He can see already that Tom will try to shoot him within the next sixty-seven seconds.
"You know, I had hoped that you would turn out differently," Tom Cruise begins, staggering forwards. His face is marred by blood and a single bruise is faint along his jawline. Shawn can't believe that he made it out of the building, let alone got into a vehicle and subsequently a car crash.
"I trained you," Tom sneers, "I showed you the way and what do you do? You run away at the first chance."
Shawn resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Shame all that waterboarding didn't work."
Something gleams in Tom Cruise's eyes and he presses his finger against the trigger but Shawn kicks his leg up and knocks the handgun away. It skitters on the pavement and momentarily, Tom and Shawn stand opposite one another, panting from exertion until Shawn breaks himself away to lunge for the weapon.
Tom Cruise attempts to overpower him, hands scrabbling to wrap around his throat but Shawn's elbow snaps back into his chest and he stumbles. Shawn's fingers wrap around the gun but with a surprising surge of energy, Tom Cruise grabs at him by the belt loops of his jeans and slams him down onto the hood of the SUV.
Desperately, Shawn attempts to conceal the second gun but he is disoriented from hitting the car and his movements are too slow and feeble.
Tom Cruise attempts to wrestle the gun away from him, furious fingers snapping Shawn's grip away. At the last possible moment, Shawn pushes the gun into Tom's face. The older man lets out a strangled yelp as he moves backward, clutching at his nose.
Shawn points the gun at him but Tom looks him in the eyes and laughs. "You won't," he says before grabbing at Shawn's pant leg and yanking him down off the SUV's hood.
Shawn pushes his hands against the pavement, exerting himself to shake off Tom Cruise's grip.
Tom Cruise's grip is tight, possessing a surge of strength from God knows where. He latches two hands onto Shawn's jacket and throws him on his back. He quickly straddles the younger man, one knee pushes against Shawn's forearm. His left arm presses roughly against Shawn's neck while his right hand grabs the gun from Shawn's hand.
Shawn attempts to somehow channel his ability of strength but it had only ever happened in sporadic bursts, never all at once or when he urged it to come forth. He gasps for air as Tom Cruise aims the gun at Shawn's forehead.
"How does it feel, Mr. Spencer?" Tom asks, panting, holding his grip tighter as Shawn fights to escape his grasp. "How does it feel to be completely helpless? When not even dear 'ol daddy can save you?"
Shawn closes his eyes, fearing the worst but his entire body freezes as he hears a low, determined voice demand, "Wanna bet?"
Henry Spencer, slightly stooped over, is standing outside of the van. His eyes are dark as he keeps a firm grip on his gun. Shawn opens his eyes to look at his father, who looks worse for wear with the cut above his eyebrow dripping fresh, ruby-hued blood.
Henry shoots his gun.
The bullet goes directly into the side of Tom Cruise's head. He collapses forwards, his lifeless body covering Shawn's. Shawn lets out a cry of surprise and he quickly pushes himself out from under Tom's body. He gags at the pooling blood and his father runs over, pulling him up by the arm and pushing him into his chest with something that almost sounds like a relieved sob.
"Oh, Shawn," Henry mutters into his hair, hands grasping his back firmly. "Thank God, thank God."
Shawn stands in awe of his father who has just killed a man to save his life. The Spencer's were fiercely loyal and as protective as they came but he had never imagined his father would do this. He had been in captivity in that building for months, imagining his father leading a life without him, when all this time he had been waiting to strike and bring him home.
"Chief Vick is going to be so pissed," Shawn mumbles into his father's shirt, unable to say, thank you without feeling like his throat will close.
Henry chuckles. "I'm just glad you're okay," he says honestly, pulling away to look Shawn in the eyes. Both men share a general understanding what the other is thinking. Shawn ducks his head in faux-embarrassment, as if Henry had said the three little words aloud.
"Shawn?" Peter is suddenly running up to them, medical kit in hand. "Let me look at you."
"I'm fine," Shawn waves him off but sighs reluctantly when Peter gives him a stern look.
Gus runs out, too, Ryan and Melissa behind him. "Your dad woke up almost right after you got out," he explains. "We wanted to give you time to hold your own but I guess he busted out at the right time."
"I'd say so," Ryan says, eyes darting over to Tom Cruise's body.
Suddenly, a whine of police sirens is heard in the air. No one has time to react, as the herd of police vehicles barrels in from around the corner. Henry looks on in confusion and Gus asks out of the side of his mouth, "Did you call?"
"Gus, I think they might have sounded the alarm when they heard the giant explosion," Shawn responds.
An NYPD police officer steps out of his car, gun at the ready. He looks over at Tom Cruise's body and then at the group of exhilarated and terrified men and women. "Is one of you Henry Spencer?"
Henry nods, confused.
"A Chief Vick from Santa Barbara sent us," a second officer says, also out of his vehicle. "She said we might find a mess like this."
Shawn laughs and then, sheepishly covers his mouth.
Moments later, they inform the police of what happened, the teleporter kid reenacting the fight between Tom Cruise and Shawn with vigor. The police are surprisingly calm, taking everyone's statements and referring some to the ambulance that had come with them. They listen to Henry recount what he had done to save his son's life. Shawn steps away from the group, walking to the vacant lot nearby, where Wyatt is standing, arms crossed.
"So a lot has happened," Wyatt says casually.
Shawn laughs ruefully. "I would say so."
Wyatt eyes him carefully. "Are you okay?"
Shawn evades the question. "It sucked without you."
Wyatt looks crestfallen. "I couldn't get to you. Some kind of security measure 'ol Tom put up to obstruct me."
Shawn nods. "Yeah, I figured."
Wyatt gestures to Henry and the others. "So they came to save the day, huh?"
Shawn watches as Melissa's hand trails up Gus's arm slowly and he rolls his eyes but smiles. "My father killed someone for me," he says, as if Wyatt hadn't seen.
"Your father loves you," Wyatt finally says.
Shawn's expression shifts his smile broadens. "Yeah, I think he really does." He looks at Wyatt. "What are you going to do now?"
Whistling, Wyatt looks up at the sky for a moment. "Hell if I know," he says. "I feel like I've done all that I…" his voice trails off and his voice catches in throat. "Shawn," he says lowly.
Shawn looks up to follow his gaze and sees a large mixture of white, somewhat like a cloud, hovering before them. It glistens around the edges, a yellow, hazy glow emitting from the center.
"Holy shit," Wyatt chokes. "Is that what I think it is?"
Shawn can't quite believe it either. Of all the spirits he has spoken with, none have made it this far
"I think that's your exit," he says softly, eyes locking with Wyatt's.
The other man rubs a hand over his mouth, eyes shining. "I can't believe it," he says to himself. He turns to Shawn. "What do I do?" he asks urgently.
Shawn laughs. "I think you walk into it."
Wyatt steps forward and then spins back around. "I don't know what to say," he confesses, his voice sounding mixed with exaltation and disbelief.
"It's been fun," he finally says. He and Shawn stare at one another for a moment before Wyatt wraps his arms around him, embracing the psychic. "Thank you," he says.
Shawn nods, smiling at the spirit. "See you around," he says, as Wyatt steps further into the light.
Wyatt turns around and smirks at the psychic. "Yeah, not anytime soon I hope," he replies with a laugh. He takes one last look at his friend before he disappears and there is a flash of bright, bright light. Shawn shields his eyes and removes his arm to see that his friend has gone.
"So long, buddy," he says quietly.
Henry watches on in amusement as his son seemingly talks to no one. He wonders what is going through Shawn's mind and what surrounds him that no one else can see. When Shawn's eyes divert down to the ground, Henry walks over and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Shawn looks up at him, eyes glistening. Henry doesn't ask. Instead, he says, "So, they've cleared us. We can go home."
Shawn's expression is hopeful. "What about the others?" he asks.
"They are free to go, too," Henry says. "Most of them are from other states so the police are going to work with them to bring them home safely and keep a short-term surveillance on them."
Shawn nods. "That's good."
Henry looks closely at his son. "What about you?"
"Hm?" Shawn looks up.
"Are you ready? To go home?" Henry presses.
Shawn looks around, first at the crushed van, Tom's crushed SUV and then the group of people with supernatural abilities that he has been acquainted with for months. It hasn't been particularly long but it almost feels like a life time. Despite it all, something in him is tugging towards California, towards home.
"Yeah," he finally says. "I'm ready."
Shawn has a few long goodbyes with his friends. He instructs Ryan to be careful in Wyoming and bops the teleporter kid on the head before he is escorted by the police to the airport, where his parents are waiting anxiously. Melissa gives Shawn a long hug. A few others don't say much and Shawn understands why.
Peter looks over Shawn even after the paramedics have given him a thorough examination. They determine that Shawn will have a difficult time weaning himself off of the cocktail of drugs that Tom Cruise had given him nearly every day. However, they admit that, with time, Shawn should be able to return to a state of normalcy.
The NYPD takes their statements and confirms with Chief Vick that everyone is safe and accounted for. Shawn is anxious throughout, holding onto his father's forearm all the while and Henry doesn't say a word, smiling as he periodically places a hand on the top of Shawn's head, his arm or his back. The two Spencer's don't want to detach from one another and Gus watches from afar, noting this silently with a smile.
Eventually, Shawn, Gus, Henry and Peter are cleared to go home.
So they do.
Shawn, Gus, Henry and Peter don't catch a flight until early the next morning so they do not arrive in Santa Barbara until late afternoon. Gus wants to go home and "wash the blood of the bad guys off" himself and Peter needs to go in to work to tend to an emergency appointment with a patient. It is just Henry and Shawn in the taxi home.
Shawn leans over and tells the taxi driver the address of the SBPD.
"What are you doing?" Henry asks, concerned.
Shawn just smiles. "I want to see Lassie and Jules," he says, like it should be obvious. Really, he wants to step into that familiar atmosphere. He has missed the cacophony of ringing phones, fax machines, brewing coffee and shouted declarations from detectives and police officers alike. He hopes that Jules has kept knitting that pineapple-patterned hat for him and that maybe Lassiter missed him, at least a little.
Eventually, they pull up to the police station and Shawn pulls himself out of the taxi, running ahead of his father who hastily throws a wad of bills at the driver.
"Shawn," Henry calls exasperatedly, attempting to keep up with his son. They have only been back home for a few hours and already Shawn is back to chasing after the excitement.
Shawn steps through the doors of the police station and inhales the stale coffee and leather shoe polish smell. "Ahh," he says dramatically, winking at the officer at the front desk who nearly chokes when she sees the man that has purportedly been dead for months.
Shawn saunters past various officers, shaking hands and hugging others, winking at Buzz. His father follows close behind, watching as various members look on at Shawn look on in admiration.
Finally, Shawn makes it to his destination: in front of Chief Vick's office. The door is open and Lassiter and Juliet are standing in front of a corkboard littered with photos. Shawn has learned to walk with a quiet foot so as not to be caught, so they don't notice his presence.
"She went missing at six in the evening last Tuesday," Chief Vick says of the auburn-haired woman's photo. "Her mother blames it on the boyfriend but of course we can't quite confirm that as of yet."
Lassiter nods and opens his mouth to say something but Shawn says from the doorway, "She ran away."
"Shawn?" Juliet gapes in astonishment at the psychic. He is thinner but stronger, weary but determined. His eyes betray a sudden sadness but he looks for all the world like he is the happiest man in the SBPD.
"That woman, right there," Shawn gestures to the photo. "She took the car and all of her mom's cash because she and her boyfriend wanted to run away to Las Vegas." He snorts. "Anyway, it won't work out. The boyfriend will suddenly want to 'find himself' in Brazil so 'ol Tracy here will have to go running back home and blame the theft of the car and the money on the boyfriend, who will conveniently not be around to confirm or deny that accusation."
Even Chief Vick looks surprised.
"She will also smell like cheese, the next time you see her," Shawn continues, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Swiss? Pepper jack? No, provolone. Ugh, who even eats that?"
Henry stands behind and rolls his eyes, smiling.
Chief Vick, Juliet and Lassiter all stare at the psychic with wide eyes and open mouths. Before, Shawn had lied, certainly. He had been known to waltz around the office, grabbing onto his head and slamming into furniture, shouting declarations about 'spirits' and 'divining' but it had never been real. He had always had a cavalier attitude about it but it hadn't affected him in the slightest. Now, however, he gives the summary of their future case with a rational, even voice. His stance is serious and his words calculated but his eyes still shine with the exuberance they held before.
Shawn notices everyone staring at him and he can't lie; he has missed this.
"What?" he asks, smiling.
THE END