Chapter Seven

Shawn watched as Sam and John left the room to head back to the motel.

"That was weird," said Gus.

"Tell me about it," said Shawn. "I don't doubt their whole psychic demon story thing. I mean, they're the experts. But…now they think I'm one of those psychic kids. Or they think I got psychic abilities from the accident." He frowned. "I wonder if he's the real deal."

"The real deal?" asked Gus.

"Yeah, he says he's a psychic, but I wonder if he's real," said Shawn.

"He probably is," said Gus. "I mean, what are the odds that the both of you are faking being psychic?"

Shawn shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

Gus watched him closely. "So…how are you?"

"I'm fine," said Shawn.

"Good, good…" said Gus.

"Gus…" said Shawn suspiciously. "What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything," said Gus.

"Gus, don't be that annoying whine that the TV gives off," said Shawn. "How long have you known me? Of course you're hiding something."

"I'm just…" sighed Gus. "I'm worried about you."

Shawn looked at him closely, nodding and then smiling. "I'm gonna be fine, Gus."

Gus frowned. "Why would you jump in front of a bullet for me?"

"'Cause you're my best friend," said Shawn. "You're the only one I've got. Of course I'd jump in front of a bullet for you."

Gus smiled, touched by that. "Well, thanks."

"Ah, don't mention it," shrugged Shawn. "Now, think you can sneak me a burger?"

Gus frowned. "Shawn, I'm not gonna sneak you food that's not on your hospital diet."

"Oh, come on," said Shawn. "We eat burgers all the time. What's it gonna hurt to eat one while I'm in the hospital?"

"No, Shawn," said Gus firmly.

"Gus, I'm gonna have burger withdrawal here," said Shawn.

"You can't have burger withdrawal, Shawn," said Gus. "You'll be fine."

Shawn sighed. "Well, then, how about some ice cream?"

Gus nodded. "Hospitals keep cups of ice cream in the patient fridges. I'll go ask your nurse for it." He began to walk out of the room.

"Make sure it's pineapple!" Shawn called.

Gus glanced back at him before heading out of the room.

***************************************************************SPN************************************************************************************************

Sam headed into the Santa Barbara Police Station, just as everyone was getting there for the day. He felt tired, having been up half the night, but he had a job to do.

"Agent!" Juliet called as she walked towards him.

"Good morning, Detective," Sam greeted, both very professional now that they were on the job again.

"Have you uncovered anything else?" asked Juliet.

"Not yet," said Sam, of course hiding where he knew the shapeshifter's lair was. "Have you or Lassiter discovered any other clues?"

"Well, forensics have concluded that there may have been a struggle," said Juliet. "Looks like Shawn was right. It might be murder."

Sam nodded. "Is he usually right?"

Juliet frowned a little. "I'd put it at ninety-nine percent success rate."

Sam nodded. "That's not bad."

"O'Hara!"

Sam and Juliet glanced over to see a blonde woman emerging from an glass-window enclosed room.

"I need to see you and Mr. Simmons in my office immediately," she said.

Sam followed Juliet into what was obviously the chief's office. Lassiter was already sitting at the table in the office.

She held out a hand to Sam. "Nice to meet you. I am Interim Chief Karen Vick."

"Good to meet you," said Sam, shaking her hand.

"Alright," said Chief Vick, heading back behind her desk. "It appears as though we've got a serial killer on our hands. Lassiter, what do you have?"

"Well, surveillance footage shows no assailant entering the crime scenes," said Lassiter. "Which leads me to believe he knew the cameras were there, possibly tapping into the footage and looping an empty hallway. In that case, it's someone who has knowledge of security cameras and electrical works."

Chief Vick nodded. "Good work, Detective."

Sam looked over at Lassiter, impressed. Well, he's done his homework. He just doesn't know about the truth.

"Alright, let's head over to these apartment buildings and interview neighbors and landlords," said Chief Vick. "See if anyone suspicious, possibly in a maintenance uniform, has been wandering around the buildings the days before the murders."

"Sure thing, Chief," said Juliet, heading through the door of the office with Lassiter.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" asked Chief Vick.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," said Sam with a smile. "I'd hate to step on your toes."

Chief Vick sighed. "Well, finally, a fed with manners."

Sam laughed.

"So, I understand you've taken a liking to Mr. Spencer," said Chief Vick.

Sam nodded. "He's quite an…extraordinary man."

Chief Vick smiled. "That's one word for it. But he has solved many cases, so we tend to tolerate his eccentric behavior."

"Eccentric is one word for it," said Sam.

"How is he doing?" asked Chief Vick.

"He's doing surprisingly well, considering he's just been shot," said Sam.

"That's Spencer for you," said Chief Vick. "Nothing stops him. He once got run off the road by the suspect, sent to the hospital, and still managed to solve the case."

"Run off the road?" asked Sam. "Does he usually managed to get targeted by the suspects?"

Chief Vick thought for a moment. "Most of the time."

Sam laughed. That sounds like Dean…

"Well, it was nice to meet you," said Sam. "I'll check in later with any information I might have."

"Thank you, Agent Simmons," said Chief Vick, sitting down behind her desk as Sam walked out of her office and the station.

***************************************************************SPN*******************************************************************************************************************

Sam walked into his motel room that night. His father was still out scouring the neighborhood for any sign of the shifter. He'd visited Shawn again around lunch time to see that his brother was climbing the walls to get out of that hospital. Fortunately, the doctors weren't letting him off that easy; a gunshot was a serious wound. Juliet and Lassiter were busy barking up the wrong tree; of course, they thought they were right on track. If it wasn't something supernatural, Sam would think they were doing pretty good tracking down a suspect.

Sam had a chance to talk to Gus and Shawn when he visited the hospital, sharing stories. He'd learned that Shawn and Gus had met during the few weeks or so while Shawn was recuperating in the hospital. Gus was a pharmaceuticals representative, and he'd been coming to visit Shawn's doctor at the time with some new medications. Shawn had managed to grab him from the hallway on his way back from a walk around the halls (the cabin fever had gotten real bad the last month he was stuck there), and Gus had taken an instant liking to him.

Sam heard the story of their first case and how the Psych business got started. Shawn bragged on all the cases he'd solved, and Gus filled in the truth where Shawn embellished.

Sam set his jacket down on the bed, grabbing his laptop and began to head to the table to research.

"Ah!" Sam yelled.

The laptop fell onto the bed as Sam grabbed at his head. The pain had come out of nowhere. It wasn't like his usual headaches, that built and built until the vision appeared. This pain had hit like a locomotive, sudden and sharp.

"AH!" Sam yelled, collapsing onto his knees.

Shawn struggled on the floor of the room in the sewer, trying to get out of his ropes.

"So…" said the shifter in Dean's form, "you're the psychic?"

Shawn glared up at the shifter, unknowingly glaring at his own face.

"Too bad you didn't see this coming," said the shifter with a wicked smile. He picked up at knife from a ledge on the wall. "I guess you're not that great a psychic after all."

The shifter lunged for Shawn, stabbing him through the heart. Shawn gasped as he stared up at the shifter, struggling to breathe for a moment before closing his eyes.

"NO!" Sam yelled, coming back to himself in the motel room. He'd collapsed onto the floor.

Sam jumped up, grabbing his keys and speeding towards the hospital. He ran through the lobby, heading for Shawn's room.

"Shawn!" Sam yelled, barreling into the room.

Shawn frowned at him from the bed, the television remote in hand. "Dude, you okay?"

Sam watched him closely, walking over to the bed as he drew a knife.

Shawn's eyes froze on the knife as Sam drew closer. "Dude…"

Sam grabbed hold of Shawn's hand.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Shawn, trying to pull his hand away.

Sam drew the knife quickly across Shawn's palm, waiting for a reaction, but his skin didn't burn.

"Ow!" Shawn said, yanking his hand away.

Sam sighed in relief, putting the knife away and sitting down next to the bed. "Thank God."

"'Thank God'?" said Shawn, jumping up from his bed and scooting away from Sam. "'Thank God'? You rush in here and stab me, and that's all you have to say is, 'Thank God'?"

"In my defense, I didn't stab you," said Sam. "I cut you."

"Question still stands, psycho," growled Shawn.

"I was making sure you weren't the shapeshifter," said Sam.

Shawn frowned. "Really? You couldn't just ask?"

"You really think the shifter would tell me, 'yes'?" asked Sam.

Shawn shrugged, grabbing a Kleenex and holding it to his cut. "Well, why would you think I was the shifter?"

"I had a vision," said Sam. "You were trapped in its lair, and it killed you."

Shawn frowned. "You had a vision?"

Sam nodded.

Shawn sat back down in his bed, clutching his bullet wound as he got comfortable again. "So…how does a hunter test for a shapeshifter?"

Sam held up the knife. "Silver. It burns their skin."

"Oh, yeah," Shawn nodded. "Silver bullet to the heart."

Sam nodded, putting the knife away again. "You haven't seen anything weird since I visited, have you?"

Shawn shook his head. "No. Nothing. Unless you count the nightmare nurse matron on the night shift."

Sam laughed.

"So, how often do you have these visions?" asked Shawn.

"Well, once every couple of months," said Sam.

"Is that all?" asked Shawn.

Sam nodded. "I can't exactly control it."

"Well, me, neither," said Shawn. "But I have a vision sometimes four times a day."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe that's the difference between being born this way and getting it from an accident."

Shawn nodded, looking over at his dinner tray. "You want some apple sauce? I don't really have the stomach for healthy crap like that."

Sam glanced over at the dinner tray and the untouched cup of apple sauce and then glanced back at Shawn, laughing. It finally felt like it was he and his brother again. Shawn began laughing with him, not exactly sure what he was laughing at, but still enjoying the laugh all the same.

Shawn's eyes widened suddenly. "Sam!"

The room went dark as something collided with the back of Sam's head.

Is it just me, or does Gus say Shawn's name a lot on that show?