A/N: I lied.
This is NOT the last chapter. 'Cause I still have the epilogue to post.
I worked pretty hard on this, and I sincerely hope it was worth the wait for you guys. The wait, I know, was far too long though. I'll do everything I can to keep it from happening again. Promise.
This is the longest chapter in the entire story, and I for one, am satisfied with how it turned out. I hope you are too.
PS: Be on the lookout for the alternate ending titled "Or Is It?"
ENJOY! :D even though it's a tragedy
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Buzz McNab
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Buzz McNab, for once dressed in street clothes instead of his usual uniform, walked down the boardwalk in the early evening not quite knowing how he'd gotten there. The horizon was a multitude of colors now, but mostly a beautiful orange. Buzz wasn't fooled by the bright colors though, because he knew that with each passing moment it faded. Dimming into darker and darker colors until finally it would reach black.
Black.
The color of death.
Of mourning.
It was also the color most of the SBPD, himself included, seemed to be sporting. The only employees who didn't wear black either hadn't known Shawn Spencer well, or they were forced by strict, unyielding rules to remain in a uniform of some sort. Those who were required to wear a uniform still displayed their grieving state in a more subtle way such as wearing a black wristband, or other black jewelry. Some of the female employees even painted their nails black. Even some of the criminals in the holding cells had offered their condolences.
As Buzz thought about all this, he couldn't stop thoughts of why these people were acting like this to surface. Though he'd already thought about it numerous times since this morning, it always came back fresh, like it had just happened. Each time it came back, it stung just a little bit more than the last time. This time was no different.
A familiar feeling of helplessness came over him, stronger than before, as the scene played out in his mind, and suddenly he was seeing it happen all over again...
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Flashback: The Warehouse
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Buzz watched as Detective Lassiter and his partner, Detective O'Hara, walked out of the warehouse, guns drawn and scowls on their faces. Confusion written all over Buzz's face, he noted the fury in his colleagues' eyes and the fact that Shawn wasn't with them. He glanced at Chief Vick; her face was serious, and her lips were pressed into a thin line of determination.
Then he caught sight of Shawn's partner and best friend, Gus, who looked just as confused as Buzz felt. He saw Gus begin to march over to where the two detectives and thier superior now stood, but before he got more than a meter from where he'd been standing, a deafening noise came inside the warehouse. Buzz spun around to find the warehouse was suddenly enveloped in the harsh embrace of fire. He felt panic seize him, and, for a moment, he forgot who he was, where he was, all he knew was that the lot had just exploded with his friend still inside it.
Then Buzz regained control, he whirled around and started sprinting towards the Chief, but he stopped short when his mind finally processed the scene before him.
The Chief looked stunned. She did nothing but stare at the mass of writhing flames. There was a grim truth in her stare though, and it made buzz uneasy. Because the truth, the resigned acceptance hiding in her eyes told him that she'd known, on some level, maybe not consciously, that this would happen. That someone would die. Then she shook her head, as if she she was thinking the same thing, and rid herself of the horrible notion that she'd known it would happen.
Next he saw the detectives, his colleagues. Juliet screamed something and tried to run into the warehouse, probably thinking she could still save him, but Lassiter quickly lunged for her and was restraining her in seconds. She struggled for a while, but soon gave in to despair. She turned around and wept into Lassiter's chest. He stood there stoically, taking it all in but letting nothing out. The only outward sign of whatever he was feeling were the deeply etched lines around his mouth and on his forehead.
Gus was the next person to capture the rookie's horrified fascination. For a moment, it was almost like the dark man had missed what happened, but soon there was an awful shout of, "SHAWN!" Buzz could almost see all the professional walls the man had built just being torn down, completely obliterated, and there was nothing anyone could do. Not anymore. Gus seemed to realize this when he whispered something Buzz could hear and, tears streaming down his face and reflecting the light from the morning sun, dropped down to his knees like they just couldn't support him anymore. He stared at what used to be the warehouse in horror, never blinking, until the weight of Buzz's gaze finally caught his attention. They locked eyes, neither moving, both grieving. It was then, as he and Gus were watching one another, that Buzz could've sworn he heard a whispered voice say into his ear, "Help them. Don't let them destroy each other... or themselves..."
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Present Time: The Boardwalk
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"Help them," Buzz repeated softly. He couldn't get those words out of his head. He knew it was irrational to believe that Shawn had spoken to him from beyond the grave, but everywhere he'd looked since then, there'd been a... a sign. At the station when he was giving the Chief his statement he'd glimpsed a pineapple on her desk, unbeknownst to her at the moment, and for a second, just a tiny fraction of time, he heard the voice again. Shawn Spencer's voice.
And he was saying, "You've gotta do it. There's no one else but you. They need help. Just look at Vick. She's tearing herself apart! Next thing ya know they'll be injuring themselves..."
Buzz had dismissed it with a shake of his head and a quick pinch of the skin on his arm. Shawn wasn't really contacting him from the ether. It just wasn't possible. Shawn wasn't here to say anything. He was dead for Pete's sake!
But sure enough, just as he was leaving Vick's office and thinking these thoughts, he noticed Lassiter walk by, heading to his desk. He was obviously deep in thought, because when Buzz tried to talk to him Lassiter seemed not to hear him, though that did seem to be happening quite often these days. Then Buzz noticed something odd. Something that triggered a memory...
"Next thing ya know they'll be injuring themselves", Buzz quoted mentally. And sure enough wrapped around the Head Detective's hand was a gauze bandage concealing an injury of some sort, but Buzz knew for a fact that Detective Lassiter had received no injuries at the scene or at the station.
It was all too weird, too coincidental. So when Buzz just happened upon the Psych office, he took it as another sign. He was supposed to do something, and soon too. Because at the rate things were going, bad things could happen in the blink of an eye. One after another.
He hesitated for only a moment before walking up to the door and pushing it open, there was a light ringing as it opened and Buzz was soon standing in an unfamiliar surrounding. He'd never been inside Psych before, he wasn't sure why, but he'd just never had a reason to. Technically, he still didn't.
He made his way through the area where the clients waited, his gut telling him to keep going. Then, he was standing in the actual office portion of the office. Two desks faced each other. One neat, and one unbelievably messy. He knew which desk belonged to who, and proceeded over to peer at the contents haphazardly discarded atop the cluttered desk.
A pineapple, a yo-yo, a handmade clay fish, and a snow globe were what stood out to Buzz. He reached for the snow globe, not sure why, and looked at it from various different angles. He was just about to put it back when he looked at the bottom and noticed something.
It was a green Post-It note. Buzz peeled it off the snow globe and read what was written on it:
To: Lassie
Surprise! It's national 'Appreciate Your Local Lassie' day!
Okay, it isn't really, but what if it was? Anyway, I got you this snow globe because thought you could do with something to make that frown turn upside down! 'Cause guess what? It's you and me in the snow globe! 'Cause I always make people smile.
From: Shawn
PS: Is snow globe 1 word or 2?
PPS: You owe me 1 snowglobe.
PPPS: Nah, I think it's 1 word. It looks more right. Right-er?
Buzz laughed as he finished reading the note. Then he checked the snow globe and saw that it really was Shawn and Lassiter inside it. They stood next to eachother, Lassiter with a pair of cuffs and his signature scowl, and Shawn with a smile on his face and a pineapple grasped in his hands. He wondered how Shawn managed to get a snow globe so customized. The little Lassiter in it even had a mini badge!
He set the snow globe aside when something a much less interesting caught his notice. A blue spiral-bound notebook sat under the pineapple. Buzz wasn't sure what made him notice it, but he picked it up anyway. There was nothing on the cover or first few pages that indicated what it might be, but as he flipped another page he saw a warning.
Warning!
You are now entering the thoughts of Shawn Spencer!
Be prepared to have your mind blown and your socks rocked!
There were little things of no importance written there, such as a note scrawled in the upper right corner that said:
Number of times I threw paper balls at Gus's head- 132
Number of times he ignored me- 100
Number of times he told me to stop- 5
Number of times he threw something back- 27
Mission accomplished.
And then there were entries like in a journal. They were usually of a more serious nature, as Buzz later discovered, then what the department thought the psychic capable of. One of such entries went like:
October 18th, 2010
Today was rough. A double murder, a mother and a daughter killed in their apartment, and their killer still hasn't been caught.
But that's not the worst.
Lassie thought the estranged father was to blame. The man was angry at his wife for taking sole custody of their kid. Lassie thought the man came in through the glass sliding door, but I noticed I some black scuff marks on the second story porch. And I don't think the husband did it. He was too distraught, too confused, when we brought him in for questioning. He wasn't wearing his wedding ring either; he'd moved on.
I thought that the building manager had done it. Me and Gus snuck into his office earlier and we found an entire scrapbook devoted to the mother. It was really creepy. He took pictures of her everywhere, all the time. In the lobby, at the grocery store, even picking her daughter up from school. Not to mention that he had scratches on his arm, he tried to cover them up when we interviewed him, but I saw them. The mother had unidentified blood under her fingernails.
It all seemed to fit.
I convinced Jules to check him out.
They arrested him.
But I was wrong. He didn't do it.
And it's killing me.
There isn't anyone else. NO ONE. Nobody was around, nobody had motive. The manager might not have done it, but I still think he's involved. Somehow.
And I'm gonna figure it out.
Buzz remembered that case. It was a while back, but still fresh in his mind. They'd gotten the guy. It had been the next door neighbor. He'd had a history of assault charges and sex crimes in his background, and he'd become fixated with Marie Hill, the mother, and when he'd discovered that the building manager, Ernie something-or-other, shared his fantasies, they'd teamed up. Ernie hadn't actually done the killing, but he had been involved. So Shawn had been proven right after all.
He flipped a few more pages until he came upon a particularly intriguing page. He laughed suddenly when he finished. Shawn, it appeared, had already written Gus's eulogy, saying he was survived by his cats and best friend. Buzz's laughter stopped short when he remembered that Shawn wouldn't surviving his best friend and speaking this eulogy. His was a life snuffed out far too quickly.
Buzz continued reading, but now the atmosphere had a somber feel to it. He suspected this feeling would last for a while, longer than anyone of them was accustomed to. He skimmed the pages until one in particular caught his eye. He gasped slightly (slightly because Detective Lassiter had told him cops are never shocked) when he saw what was on the page. It only reinforced Buzz's continued faith that Shawn really was a psychic.
The page read:
To whom it may concern (I've always wanted to start a letter like this):
For the record, this was written by the hand of Shawn Spencer at 10:19 PM on December 25th, 2010.
After the holiday, I realized that in this line of work, even though I'm not a cop, something bad could happen any day. I could get kidnapped, shot, or even blown up, no matter how unlikely it sounds. And I just want to leave the people closest to me with a sense of closure, because I see too often what the families of murder victims are feeling. I don't want to leave people feeling like that.
So, I guess I'll start with my dad.
Dear, Dad
I know you and I never got along. We were like fire and ice (PS: I want to be fire. It's way cooler.), cats and dogs, pineapples and, in your case, prunes. I can't say I regret everything I've done, mostly because I can't remember half of those things, but I want you to know that I regret the way I left things between us.
I wish I could fix it all, though. Take back the horrible things I said, and undo all the stupid things I did. I can't, and we both know it. But I wanted to say that I always did look up to you. When I was a kid you were my biggest hero. You still are sometimes (Only sometimes!). And I wanted to tell you that I love you.
I hope you never have to read this.
-Shawn
After reading it, Buzz noticed a trail of wetness on his cheek. He wiped it away and closed the notebook before he read the next entry, which was addressed to Gus. He didn't think he could take reading anymore. After all, it wasn't for him to see.
That's when he realized what he had to do. He glanced out the large window, the sun was nearly gone. In about an hour it would be completely dark. He still had time though, he doubted anyone would be sleeping tonight.
Buzz picked up the notebook and the snow globe and headed out, knowing that the voice, Shawn's voice, in his head had been leading him to the office all along.
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Through the course of the next hour Buzz drove all over Santa Barbara. First stop was Henry Spencer's house. He'd pulled up in front of the house and quickly walked up the sidewalk leading up to the door, all the while looking much more confident then he felt.
He rang the doorbell twice, only a little bit impatient, and soon a gaunt-looking Henry Spencer opened the door. His eyes appear sunken and he had dark grey bags underneath them, add that to the slightly hunched stature and even more bald head and you get half the man he used to be.
Buzz cleared his throat nervously, suddenly doubting if this would help at all. It could just make it worse, or Henry could kick him off his property.
Then Buzz shook his head. Doubting himself wouldn't help things now. He cleared is throat yet again and said, "Ah, sir, I'm Officer McNab, SBPD."
Henry didn't flinch, didn't turn away, he just stared at the young officer, "So?"
"Um, well," Buzz began, "I, ah, found something of Shawn's today and-"
"Shawn?" Henry interjected, suddenly standing straighter, taller.
"Uh, yeah," Buzz answered, "it's a notebook. There's a, um, a..." Buzz then got frustrated with himself, "Just read it," he said, opening the notebook to the letter for Henry.
He watched as the elder Spencer read it, and watched as the man broke down and cried. Henry Spencer's walls were diminished, nothing more than dust. Buzz reached out hesitantly and put a hand on his shoulder. The older man just looked at him, nothing more. Because nothing needed to be said. They both understood the gesture.
Henry nodded and Buzz offered a small smile. Buzz then turned around and started walking back to his car, but before he got in it he spared a glance back at Henry. He saw the man reading it over and over again, treasuring the last thing left by his son. Buzz opened his car door and smiled, knowing he'd helped the man, even if it was just a small bit of comfort, and he knew that Henry would pass on the letter to those who still had yet to read it.
And at that moment, for the last time, Shawn's voice spoke yet again in his head, "Thank you, McNab. You don't know what you've done for him. Just don't forget the others. You promised to help, after all..."
Buzz nodded to himself, though he knew he'd never verbally promised anything. It was a promise he would keep to a friend though. And Buzz always kept his promises.
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Throughout the rest of the night as the sky darkened to black, Buzz McNab drove to his friends' and colleagues' houses. He offered condolences and shared in their grief.
When he got to Lassiter's house, the detective was mostly silent, but he was grateful for a voice of reason in this turbulent time. The detective knew he couldn't keep everything going all by himself.
When he reached the Chief, she was thankful. She needed someone to assure her that she did what she could to keep as many people as possible alive.
When he arrived at Juliet's home, she was tearful, but no less appreciative. She cried a bit, and Buzz offered to bring over some of Francine's homemade chocolate chip muffins as comfort food. The young woman refused of course, saying that he was grieving too, but Buzz knew Francine would do it anyway.
He got to Gus's apartment just before the moment of absolute darkness. Shawn's best friend cried more than Juliet had, and again Buzz offered to bring over some muffins. Unlike Juliet though, Gus accepted, he even asked for Buzz and Francine to come over and stay a while, too. The rookie knew that Gus needed the comfort, and the presence of familiar, friendly faces.
By doing this, Buzz McNab eased their guilt-ridden minds, and comforted their sorrowed hearts. He made sure that they no longer thought that Shawn's untimely death was all their fault, but rather the fault of the actual people to blame. They now put that particular feeling on the shoulders of Barry Cutler and Kyle Stevens, at least most of the blame was pointed in their directions. Sure, the guilt wasn't completely gone, and their grief would stay with them through life, but it would be easier to bear, and they'd have each other to lean on. They would heal in time, and that was the most important thing.
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Well? Tell me what you think! I'd like to know your favorite chapters, lines, moments, or favorite anything! Please let me know!
Oh, and I tried to keep the signature slightly immature humor of Psych into this story, it was getting a little too angst-y.
Up next: The final chapter. The... Epilogue!
