A/N: thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter! We're almost at the end!

Shawn was struggling to put all of his effort into pushing himself up the narrow side staircase that he'd found in what looked to be a kitchen area. He knew he was going the right way because he'd seen a still-burning cigarette butt left so carelessly atop the stove. Someone had been there recently.

Shawn knew he had to put as much distance between Gus and Lassie and himself as possible. Maybe they wouldn't even come after him though. Maybe they'd do the sensible and more appreciated thing and try to find Juliet instead of him.

He realized he had to go off alone when he'd stood up too fast and almost blacked out. In those moments, a memory came back to him. It was fuzzy and he thought it must be what a real psychic vision must feel like.

He saw a man with piercing blue eyes staring right at him. He was saying things that Shawn couldn't comprehend, but he could see the small flash of orange that must've been the tip of a cigarette. He could almost smell the smoke again.

There was no way he could really be hypnotized, was there? There was no way you could make someone do whatever you want by simply dangling a pocket watch in front of their face like he'd seen in movies. There was another explanation, he knew, he'd just have to find it.

He shouldn't have left Gus though. God knows his friend was unstable enough and now that Shawn was gone, he was sure to break any moment. But he had to do this alone. It sounded bitterly heroic, but Shawn wanted nothing more than to make sure Gus would be okay.

And that's why he had to do this.

God, his body hurt. The kick to his ribs had most definitely cracked a few, and every time he took a breath it felt like he would break. He could also feel the blood that had leaked down to the back of his neck. He wondered if the pain would ever stop.

As he inched his way little by little up the flight of stairs that seemed impossibly long, he stopped as his eyes caught a picture hanging in a frame on the wall.

The picture was the Ingham Asylum, and it was similar to the one he'd looked at in the Chief's office so long ago. It was taken at the same angle, but this picture seemed to be a little older, like it was taken when the building had been in the best shape.

Again, he could tell there was definitely something off about the picture. All three pictures he'd seen there had been something out of place, something different, but not obvious.

That is, unless you had and eidetic memory.

Shawn racked his brain and thought back to all three pictures. He'd been doing those "What's the Difference Between the Two Pictures?" games since he was six – courtesy of his dad – and now was the time for it to pay off. There was something different and he had to find it. He thought back to everything he'd done and seen since he got there. The answer was right in front of him, he just had to find it. Something he'd done. Something he'd seen. Something. Something. Someth –

Suddenly, the door at the top of the steps flew open and an unknown figure was looking down on the vulnerable faux-psychic.

"It's about time you got here."

"Did he say anything about where he might want to go?"

"For the last time, no. I have no idea where he is and why he would leave. He didn't say anything to me."

Lassiter exhaled sharply in kind of a violent sigh. "I hope he realizes how difficult he's making this. Now we have two people to find in this godforsaken place!"

"Calm down. If something was so important Shawn had to leave us and go off on his own I'm 47 percent sure he knows what he's doing."

"That clown never knows what he's doing."

"True. So I guess we'll split up?"

"Absolutely not," Lassiter snapped. "We'll all be separated and lost. It won't do us any good. We stay together."

"Okay," Gus said, frustrated. "Who do we go look for first?"

"O'Hara," he answered automatically.

"Will you stop to think for a minute? You can't let your feelings toward Shawn get in the way of your judgment. Just because you don't like him and you feel like this is some sort of redemption for leaving her in the first place, you need to make an educated decision. Unlike you, I can honestly say I care about both of them!"

Lassiter didn't like seeing the man this emotional. Nothing was supposed to be serious when he and Spencer were around. Now it was all serious.

He knew what Guster said was true. He did care for both of the missing people, but he wasn't head detective, and he didn't have the authority to make that decision.

"This is my case Guster –"

He laughed almost manically. "You still think this is about the case? Our partners are missing Lassiter! You said it yourself, we need to get them and get out! This isn't a case anymore, it's getting us and our partners out alive!" His voice calmed a little. "I didn't want to take this case in the first place. He wouldn't listen. He did this for me. He thought it would help…"

Lassiter wondered whether the distraught man was talking to him anymore.

He looked up and met his eyes. "I'm closer to this case than you might think. Shawn knows better than to leave me here alone. I am so unbelievably angry at him right now."

His clam demeanor and harsh words was beginning to frighten Lassiter. He didn't want to ask what Guster meant by what he said.

"We have to go after O'Hara," he said reasonably. He almost regretted it when Gus aimed an impossibly fierce glare at him. Even though he was angrier than Lassiter had ever seen him at Spencer, he obviously still cared. "Spencer may be injured and bleeding, but at least we know he's alive," he explained.

The words hurt him as he spoke them. His partner was alive. She had to be. She was tough, he believed in her.

Gus seemed to realize the truth too as he softened and agreed to go after Juliet.

Lassiter honestly pitied Spencer when Guster caught up with him.

Shawn gasped for breath as he was thrown into an armchair in the corner of the room.

After being dragged by his shirt collar the rest of the way up the stairs, his body hurt even more and his neck was killing him.

He turned uncomfortably to face the man.

He was short. About 5'9 with gray hair and round glasses. Shawn really thought he looked like some kind of evil scientist. He even had the manic grin.

"Hello Mr. Psychic," he said in what could only be described as a hungry voice.

"Hello Dr. Frankenstein," Shawn responded in a pained voice.

"What?" the man said, although the crazed expression never left his face.

"Sorry. You just look like what I imagine Dr. Frankenstein would look like. Small guy, insanity showing in his appearance, probably not much of a love life – agh!"

The man's hands were suddenly clenched around his throat and, again, he thought he would pass out from the pain.

"Don't speak," he breathed furiously in his face. Shawn could smell the cigarettes.

He made a gagging sound in response and the man let go. At this point, he couldn't speak if he wanted to. He gasped for breath for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

The man backed up and grinned. "You're right about the doctor part. Dr. Edwin Ingham at your service."

If he could find his voice, Shawn probably would've made some remark about the name Edwin, but he realized something else.

It was like the doctor read his mind. "Oh how silly of me," he chucked. "You're probably so confused. Yes, Dr. Edwin Ingham did die many years ago in prison. I am his son. Dr. Edwin Ingham Jr. And I am very pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Shawn just stared.

"Yes, yes. How do I know you? Well you see, I read the paper. Mostly the funnies and sometimes the obituaries, but you. You caught my eye Mr. Spencer. A psychic detective. Well you can imagine I was fascinated because, like my father, I dabble in arts that some might call other-worldly." He stopped to sit in the chair right next to Shawn. He looked him over like he was some kind of prize. "Hypnosis. But you must know this already. You're a psychic! You had a vision of me hypnotizing you, am I right? Am I right?"

He nearly shook Shawn out of his chair trying to get his answer. This man was crazy, he knew. And he would just have to play along.

"R–right."

"Fascinating!"

Shawn looked at him furiously. "You've been doing this for decades."

"That's right," he said with a smile, as if Shawn was praising him.

That just made him angrier. "So would you remember a girl named Jessie Kravens?"

Ingham looked puzzled. "I don't bother with the names of my experiments. I test my powers every few years and move on. Names are trivial."

He was yelling now. "Jessie Kravens! 1995! Beautiful girl! Long black hair, big smile, and family and friends that loved her to pieces. She loved life and everyone knew she would never take her own. Remember that?"

He acted as if Shawn was trying to make civil conversation. "Oh, yes! 1995, I remember!" He sighed. "Pretty girl. I remember one of my men got a little too aggressive right before she was finished. She didn't deserve to be violated like that."

"Damn right she didn't!"

Shawn decided to take a risk. "I know a lot more than you think I do."

The doctor looked at him.

"I know your secret."

He hoped this would go over well. The doctor had basically just admitted he "hypnotized" him before Shawn said he had a vision. Shawn still believed it wasn't hypnosis and he hoped to get the real way by pretending to know.

But it didn't go over so well.

The doctor's psychotically cheerful face turned to rage in a second. "You really shouldn't have said that. It really is too bad you had to have that psychic vision." He stood up and suddenly looked a lot bigger than before. "But you can't control them right? It's not your fault." He sighed. "God, I wanted to meet you so bad. And you knew that didn't you? Even without a vision, you could tell I wanted you by the cigarette I left."

He got very close to Shawn with hands leaning on both sides of the armchair. "I couldn't wait. You were going to become my next experiment Mr. Spencer, one way or another. However, I never imagined the police would send you right to me!" He laughed again. "So I'll make an exception and do this before my usual Halloween date." He looked right him with his frightening blue stare. "You're going to die Shawn. And you're wrong. I can hypnotize anyone, anytime. You'll never get over the feeling until you succumb to it. It's imminent. But until then –"

He lifted Shawn up by the collar and carried him to the top of the stairs with more strength than Shawn realized he possessed.

" – good luck surviving. I'd really like to watch."

And he let him go.

Gus was uneasy about their decision. He knew Juliet needed their help too, but he couldn't help being worried about Shawn and furious at him at the same time.

He knew what Gus was going through, and he'd still made the decision to go off on his own and leave him by himself. This place was like hell to him.

And the longer they went without finding Juliet, he got more concerned for her. If anything had happened it would be unbearable.

He and Lassiter had been walking in silence for a while now. They hadn't even gone upstairs because there was so much ground to cover downstairs first. They were about to turn a corner when something rushed at them.

That something was a small, blonde junior detective looking out of breath and exhausted.

"Juliet!"

"O'Hara!"

"Gus! Carlton! I'm so glad you're okay. Where's Shawn?"

"What happened?" Lassiter demanded.

"I – I tried to get out the back door like you said, Gus." She looked at him. "But they were there. Luckily I saw them before they saw me. I got a jump on the one, and the other one had my gun, but he had no idea how to use it and I got it away from him. They're both handcuffed to the wall."

Gus and Lassiter just looked at her.

"What? It's called the police academy. And those classes they offer for women to prevent being attacked. It pays off. And I'm okay by the way. Now where's Shawn? What did that guy do to him?" she said referring to the giant that had nearly choked Shawn and Gus to death.

"He was… stable last time we saw him. He ran off about 20 minutes ago," Gus explained.

"Well let's –"

She was cut off by the sound of a thud from another room.

They looked at each other.

"We should check it out," Lassiter said.

They found the room that held the source of the noise, which was some sort of a kitchen, they saw the crumpled body of Shawn Spencer.

"Shawn!" Gus yelled and ran over.

He lifted his friend to his feet. Shawn met his eyes. "Thanks buddy – " He couldn't finish his sentence because Gus started yelling in his face.

"What the hell were you thinking Shawn?"

"Gus, please, let go."

He released his friend, but continued to yell. "You just leave without telling us where you're going and why? Are you an idiot?"

"I'm starting to think maybe I am," he answered. "Lassie," he said, turning his attention. "Upstairs. Insane doctor – murderer guy."

Realizing what Shawn was telling him, Lassiter reacted and ran up the stairs.

Gus looked at him. "Shawn…"

"I'm sorry Gus, I really am. I'm sorry about how all this turned out. It's my fault."

"Damn right it is!"

"I got him," Lassiter said coming down the stairs. "It's a good thing a brought another pair of cuffs."

"Who is this guy?" Gus demanded.

"The killer behind all of this," Shawn answered.

Gus turned to glower at him. "Good. We can finally get out of this nightmare."

"Not quite yet," Shawn said as he slipped out of Gus' grip and took off down the hall at an alarming speed for someone in his condition.

"Shawn!" Gus screamed after him.

"Spencer get back here!"

"You don't have to follow! Go back, call for help! I need to do something first!"

"This is it," Ingham whispered. "The end. My grand finale. And I even get to watch."

"What are you talking about?" Lassiter growled.

"Shawn!" Gus yelled again. They were following him up the large staircase now. "What is wrong with you? We take this horrible case – Jessie's case, Shawn! – and you leave me in the dark and abandon me?"

"I can only say I'm sorry so many times Gus." They were following him to the hallway near the trapdoor entrance to the bell tower now. "I'm sorry for you. I'm sorry for Jessie and her family. I'm sorry that you never got to go to homecoming with her and had to attend her funeral that day instead. I'm so sorry."

With a grunt he pushed down on a heavy lever he was right next to and smiled with relief and satisfaction.

Then he was pulling himself up the trapdoor. The only thing that must've been keeping him going was adrenalin, because in his state, that was almost impossible.

"Shawn! Where are you going?" Gus yelled and followed his friend.

"Stay with him," Lassiter ordered his partner as he followed the other two.

When he got up there, Shawn was standing on the edge of the tower.

"Shawn…" Gus said, extremely worried now.

"Gus it's fine. I'm fine. I promise."

And he jumped.

A/N: Thanks for reading hope you liked it! Please review!