Shawn and Lassiter arrived on the scene at the same time.

For once, Lassiter didn't object to the psychic's presence.

For once, knowing he wasn't alone actually made him feel somewhat better, though his stomach was churning at the thought of what was probably happening to his partner. His mind kept flashing back to the image of Vick's body washed up on the shore…the inch deep grooves in her wrists…the blood…

Not O'Hara, too…

I can't fail twice…not like this…

"What the hell is going on?" Shawn demanded the moment he saw Lassiter. They ducked under the yellow police tape and walked into the apartment building together.

"It's James," Lassiter growled. "It has to be."

Shawn stopped, all the blood draining from his face.

"You don't think--" he started, already choking on the words.

Lassiter's jaw set.

He didn't think.

He refused to think.

"It has to be."

They stepped inside Juliet's apartment, where Buzz was waiting for them, along with the crime scene unit. When he saw them, he nervously glanced down at his watch.

"The Chief should be here in a few minutes," he said quietly. "I don't know if--"

"I'm not leaving until I find out what the hell happened." Lassiter snapped, his eyes already sweeping the room, which looked like a tornado had hit it.

The small coffee table was overturned, and the indentations in the plush carpet showed the couch had been pushed far out of its usual position.

"The chain lock's broken," Shawn whispered hoarsely, looking at the door they had just entered through so he wouldn't have to look at the apartment. "She tried to lock him out. He must've followed her…kicked it in before she got the deadbolt on…"

All his usual glib psychic mannerisms were gone, replaced by a somber, burning determination to see everything.

"Did anyone hear anything?" Lassiter asked Buzz.

Buzz shook his head.

"Detective Sierra called me in to knock on doors, but I couldn't find anyone who was home tonight when it happened. One of Detective O'Hara's neighbors got home around midnight and saw her door open. He came in to see if she was okay, and called it in when he saw the blood."

He gestured down at the carpet immediately in front of the door, where the blood stain was already drying into a sickening brown smear.

"I hope it's his." Lassiter muttered under his breath. "I hope she got off one good shot…"

Shawn nodded in grim agreement, trying to look away from the bloodstain.

But he couldn't….

Neither of them could.

Shawn finally managed to tear himself away and began to look around the apartment, not even sure what he hoped to find.

Lassiter's eyes were still fixed on the stain. He couldn't escape the thoughts anymore.

The bastard kept the Chief alive for two days…

Two days…

Right now, the only hope O'Hara has is if he wants to torture her before he kills her…

His stomach lurched as it suddenly struck him how twisted the logic was.

Torture is her only hope…

He didn't hear Brighton enter the apartment behind him, didn't hear him yell his name. He didn't know anyone else was even in the room until he felt the hand on his shoulder, violently spinning him around.

"I said what the hell are you doing here, Lassiter?" Brighton was shouting as Lassiter finally snapped back into reality.

He stumbled, taken aback by the sudden assault, but managed to shake free of the claw-like grip. He had to restrain his natural instinct to deck the man.

Shawn was watching the exchange from the other side of the apartment, his eyes darting back and forth between the two warring parties. Buzz was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking vaguely like a child caught in the middle of a nasty divorce.

"Someone has to stop people from killing cops!" Lassiter snapped back, for a moment forgetting this man held his career in his hands. "And it sure as hell isn't going to be you!"

As he watched Brighton's face contort through a thousands shades of purple and red rage, he suddenly remembered.

Brighton could take his badge for good.

Brighton could have him arrested.

Even after it all started to come back to him, he didn't give a damn.

None of it seemed to matter anymore.

Brighton's hawk-like gaze was turned rancorously on Buzz now.

"Just how the hell did you even know O'Hara was missing?" He demanded, his angular nose pointed at his new quarry. "It hasn't even gone out over the scanner yet."

Buzz quietly cleared his throat, ready to confess everything, but Lassiter stepped in before he could.

"Spencer's a psychic." He growled, thrusting his thumb in Shawn's general direction. "What the hell do you care?"

Brighton spun around again, his eyes narrowing at Lassiter.

"You're both tampering with a crime scene."

"What tipped you off it's a crime scene?" Lassiter muttered, pushing past the new Chief and marching towards the door, just wanting to find his missing partner. "The blood and the bright yellow tape?"

He could hear Shawn's footsteps behind him, quickly catching up. But before he could step back into the hall, Brighton's voice cut through the thick air like an axe.

"You're pretty damn high and mighty for someone who got a cop killed."

He stopped in the doorway, frozen by the shot to the gut.

Slowly, he turned around again, his fists already clenching.

Shawn saw he was on the edge.

"Don't do it, Lassie…" he murmured, eyeing the Chief cautiously.

The Chief knew he had Lassiter now. He grinned cruelly.

"You heard me, Lassiter." He spat disdainfully. "I'm not an idiot. I know what you think about me. I know you think I blew the investigation…"

He paused, taking a slow step towards the detective.

"But just remember this. I'm not the one who was at the precinct the night they grabbed Vick. I'm not the one who didn't hear anything. And I'm not the one who let my partner get abducted tonight."

Lassiter couldn't hold it back anymore.

This was his breaking point.

Before he even knew what was happening, his fist was flying through the air…just like last time…

A split second before he connected with Brighton's face, however, Shawn stepped in and slugged the Chief.

Right in the nose.

Lassiter blinked in surprise as Brighton's head snapped back in a spray of blood, his fist falling limply by his side.

Shawn looked just as surprised as anyone else.

"Spencer! What the hell--?"

Shawn stared down at his fist in stupefied shock, then looked up at Lassiter.

Their eyes locked, and for perhaps for the first time in their lives, they understood each other.

"I promised Jules I wouldn't let you do anything stupid." He said, just loudly enough for Lassiter to hear. "But I didn't say anything about me doing something stupid…"

Brighton had recovered from the shock of the blow, and already had his cuffs in his hand.

"Just find her." Shawn said quietly. "Just find her."