A/N: I know, I'm horrible! I apologize. If it helps, chapter five is written and beta'ed already. So I'll post it sometime later this week, seeing as I haven't written chapter six yet. I don't want you guys to wait so long... So by the weekend I'll post chapter five.

Lassiter sat, bent over, at his desk. His eyes were trained to the notepad on his desk. Random scribbles were found in the margins, with the general case information in the middle of the page. Occasionally, without his consent, his head would raise just enough to turn to the right and check on Juliet, before his eyes were back on the notepad.

His current case was kicking his ass, hard. Worst even? He was afraid to really pull Juliet in on it, since her mind was obviously everywhere, but the work in front of her face. Though he couldn't say he was a fan of her new working conditions, he did understand. Spencer refused to be alone with his own child for fear that he might have another—whatever in the hell kind of attack of the mind he was having.

All Lassiter knew was that his doctors were convinced it had to do with his coma, whereas his mother was certain it had nothing to do with his coma. Which put them right back at the starting line in figuring out why he spaced out and freaked out generally every single night, and at least once every other day.

Sighing, Lassiter pulled himself from his notepad and stood up. He needed help, and he hated keeping his partner out of the loop. So he stood in front of her for a moment, secretly wondering how long it would take for her to realize that he was standing there. After a few minutes though, he grew impatient and cleared his throat. Juliet's head jerked up, and he stared down at her for a moment.

"Yes, Carlton?" She asked.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I really could use some help on my new case." He finally said.

Her eyebrow quirked, a frown etched on her face. "You're working a case without me?" She asked. Hurt written on her features.

Generally Lassiter wouldn't have cared. Under normal circumstances he would have just told her to suck it up and help him. Yet, nothing about his current life was normal. He had a partner that was only half available—on a good day, and a pain in the neck fake psychic that was starting to cause him to have headaches without actually being present. So, since his life was no longer normal, and Lassiter had actually grown to think of Juliet as a friend, he sighed.

"Yes. Sorry. It's just—you've had a lot on your plate, and this case-" Lassiter sighed, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just—not an easy case."

Juliet nodded numbly. "Of course, I'll help." The frown was still etched on her face, and the hurt expression was only slightly hidden.

Lassiter simply shrugged his shoulders. He'd take it. She followed him back to his desk, as he pulled his notepad out for her to look at. He started to go over the case details.

"So, it started out as an Amber alert in Pittsburgh—so how did we wind up with the case?" Juliet's eyebrow furrowed.

"The man that is suspected in the kidnapping was spotted in Santa Barbara five days ago."

Juliet nodded. "Okay, do we have information on the girl?"

Lassiter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Her name is Julie Stevenson. She's nine-years-old. Was last seen on her front lawn by a neighbor, before she was seen being forced into a car by this man." Lassiter clicked his mouse, and a picture popped up on the screen. Juliet stared at it for a moment. "Peter Mahoney. He's got a wrap-sheet a mile long, including kidnapping."

Juliet nodded. Something felt like it was poking her in the brain, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Something about this case sounded so familiar. She sighed. "Did you interview the person that spotted Mahoney?"

Lassiter nodded. "Not a lot of information to get. Mahoney walked into a convenience store, bought some beer and a pack of cigarettes. Paid in cash. I'm still waiting for the security tapes. The manager is being less than cooperative. Chief Vick is trying to get a suponea so that we can force him into giving us the security tapes."

Juliet sighed. "I see why-" Suddenly it hit her. The color drained from her face. "I—uh-I need to call—uh—Shawn."

Lassiter stared at Juliet. "You feeling okay? You're not pregnant again are you?" Lassiter's nose wrinkled from the flashbacks from her pregnancy with Brandon.

"Fine." She called, as she disappeared back to her desk.

Shawn jerked awake, the dream had returned, as it always did when he fell asleep. He gasped, trying to regain his composure. The sound that had pulled him from his dream pulled his attention. Reaching out his hand, Shawn grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He could hear Gus walking toward his room, but answered the phone before Gus could enter.

"'Ello." Shawn answered, sleep still thick in his voice.

"Shawn?" Juliet asked, her voice coming out almost breathless.

"Jules?" Shawn asked, as he sat up in his bed.

"Look, can you have Gus drive you to the station. I need you to look at something." Shawn's eyebrow furrowed. Chief Vick hadn't even toyed with the idea of bringing him back on as a consultant.

"Yeah. Be there soon." He said softly, before hanging up the phone.

Gus stared at him for a moment. "What's up?"

"We need to go to the station." Shawn mumbled, as he climbed out of bed. He looked back up at Gus, ignoring the confusion on his face. "I'm going to get dressed, can you handle getting Brandon dressed?"

Gus nodded, figuring he'd ask Shawn about what was going on, on the way to the station. "Sure."

As soon as Gus left the room, Shawn walked over to his dresser and pulled a tee shirt from the drawer, before walking over to the closet and removing a pair of jeans. Sighing softly, he tossed the clothing over his shoulder and walked toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Shawn groaned.

"I look like a zombie." He muttered, before splashing his face with cool water, and pulling his shirt over his head. Once he was dressed, he splashed some styling gel onto his hand, and quickly sculpted his hair. Checking himself over one more time, he realized that half-alive zombie was as good as it was going to get. Shrugging his shoulders he walked out of the bathroom, and saw that Gus and Brandon were all ready to go.

"Seriously, Shawn? It takes you longer to get ready than a baby." Gus chuckled.

"Well, Gus. This-" He paused to motion toward his hair. "takes a long time to put together. It's a work of art, really." Shawn laughed, as he plucked his son from Gus' arms. "Hey, buddy!" Shawn cooed at his son.

Gus shook his head as he walked toward the door with Shawn following close behind. "So—why are we going to the station. Aren't we like pariah's around there?"

Shawn guffawed loudly. His entire body shaking with laughter. "We are not man eating fish, Gus. We don't live in the water, buddy."

Gus groaned, smacking his forehead. "Pariah's, Shawn, not piranha!"

"I've heard it both ways, Gus. Pariah—piranha-sounds the same to me." Shawn shrugged.

"Whatever, Shawn. I thought we weren't wanted-"

"Not entirely true, my good man. I am wanted—well-not by the chief, but there is a particularly hot, young detective that has a major crush on me. She wants me, I'm fairly certain. Anyways, said hot, blond, detective just called me. Asked me to have you to drive me there. Since—well.." Shawn let his sentence linger off. No sense in taking the fun out of the situation.

"Yeah, okay. It's not like we had anything else better to do." Gus said, as they both climbed into the car once they got Brandon adjusted in his car seat.

"Right you are, buddy." Shawn grinned, as he fastened his seatbelt. "Onward!"

Gus groaned, and rolled his eyes. Even if he was fighting to hide a smile. Shawn was definitely becoming Shawn again.

Shawn walked steadily forward, he smiled when Juliet looked up at him. Brandon's car seat was clasped tightly in his left hand, and the look on Juliet's face caused his smile to falter. Keeping up his steady pace, Shawn sat Brandon's car seat down on the empty chair beside Juliet's desk, as he lean his hip against the corner of her desk.

"Shawn-" Her voice faltered. She had been thinking non-stop since she had called him nearly twenty minutes earlier. She couldn't deny how eerily similar it all was, but she couldn't force herself to voice her concerns. More because—if she was right—she couldn't even fathom what that would mean.

Shawn leaned forward slightly, his hand cupping her cheek. "What is it, Jules? What's wrong?" Worry crept into his voice, as he watched his wife pale slightly.

She swallowed hard. "I need you to look at something." She still couldn't say the words, to force the words from her mouth. Showing him would be second best, so she led him into the conference room, and ignored the odd looks she got from both Lassiter and Karen. "Does any of this-" The gasp that came from behind her caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

"Mr. Spencer." She heard the worry voice of her boss.

Closing her eyes, Juliet forced herself to turn around. Cracking one eyelid open, her fears were confirmed. Shawn stood, his jaw slack, as he stared at the numerous pictures of Julie Stevenson and Peter Mahoney. His head started to shake, back and forth, in rhythmic fashion.

"No." It was a hushed whisper. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Finally he screamed out. "This—can't—no." Tears were in his eyes. Finally he ripped his eyes from the pictures and looked at his wife. "How long have you known?" His voice was harsher than he had meant it to be.

"What?" Juliet asked. That was not what she had been expecting.

"How long have you known!? It's a simple question!" Shawn was practically yelling.

Juliet took an unconscious step back, her eyes widened slightly. "Just today."

Shawn visibly calmed down, as he nodded his head. He took a step further into the room, and examined the pictures closer. His heart rate sped up as he stared at the man that was haunting his dreams. A glimmer of hate was visible in his eyes before he turned his attention to the nine-year-old girl. Though she was less dirty, and her clothes bore no holes in them, it was obviously the same girl. Every single night she begged for help, and every single night Shawn failed to help her.

"I don't understand." He wasn't really voicing the question to anyone in particular. He was just trying to figure out how exactly his dreams were coming to life right in front of his eyes.

"Spencer, what is the meaning of this?" Lassiter finally broke the awkward silence.

Shawn's attention snapped toward Lassiter. For the first time he realized that he and Juliet were not the only ones in the room. A sheepish smile crossed his lips for a split second, before it dropped back into a scowl. "My dreams. This guy—" Shawn tapped his finger against one of the many photos of Peter Mahoney. "He's been the torturer of my dreams-"

Lassiter realized what he was saying. "Wait a second. Mahoney is the guy that you've been dreaming of? The one that you claimed killed McNabb and was holding me hostage?"

Shawn glanced back at Juliet who simply shrugged her shoulders. "I was worried."

Sighing, Shawn turned back to his now growing audience. "Yes." Venom seeped into his voice. "Until recently. The last few days-" Shawn sighed. "It's been the girl. All I knew was that her name was Julie and that this guy had kidnapped her." His head fell into his hands. Did that mean that all of his dreams were going to become reality, or was this some sort of fluke?

"So what are you saying, Mr. Spencer?"

Shawn shook his head. He didn't even know what he was trying to say. Was he saying that he was having—future visions—like a psychic? No that wasn't right. He didn't believe in psychics. They weren't real. All of them were a bunch of fakes and phonies just like he had been. Even if he was truly having—future visions—these people were not going to believe him. Not after he had lied to them about being a psychic for so long.

"I think—I don't know. It might be something like on Final Destination-" Everyone stared at him like he had grown a second head. "Like a premonition. I firmly believe that I am meant to solve this case. That I am to bring this little girl back."

Chief Vick sighed. She looked at Juliet, before looking back at Shawn. "I cannot hire you, Mr. Spencer."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I don't care. I will find her and I will bring her back. Just—keep McNabb off this case. Please. I am begging you."

Chief Vick shook her head. "I can't do that, Mr. Spencer. He is one of my best officers, and to be frank with you—I am inclined to-"

Shawn held up a hand. "To not believe me. I know. I don't blame you, but it's the truth nevertheless. It's fine. I'll protect McNabb, find the girl and Lassiter, when he gets taken hostage. I'll do it all." Shawn groaned, his head was killing him all of a sudden, and the large conference room was starting to close in around him. Stalking off, Shawn grabbed Brandon from the chair, and Gus followed Shawn out of the station.

"What the hell, Shawn?" Gus asked, as he followed Shawn to the car.

Shawn carefully buckled his son into the car, before climbing into the passenger seat. "Let's go home. I've got some stuff to figure out." With that, Shawn let his head lull against the window and his eyes drifted close, praying his headache would ease before they returned back to the house.

A/N: So...thoughts? Where do you think this is going? I love hearing your thoughts and opinions. So fire them at me!