A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of The Second Worst Halloween Ever! I'd like to say thanks to everyone who took the time to review so far! It's meant the world to me! :) And I want to say sorry for not putting breaks in the page when it was switching from Shawn to Lassie and Gus last chapter. I hope that didn't annoy anyone too much.

I've been forgetting to put this, so just in case this is unclear, I do not own Psych.


"SHAWN!" Gus' arm reached out to grab his friend even though he was standing at least three yards away, and Shawn was gone before he'd even yelled.

Gus' first thought was that this wasn't real. This was just some awful, twisted, horrible nightmare that he'd wake up from soon.

But, God, did nightmares make you have that feeling that makes you want to throw up your guts and sit in a corner and die? If this was a bad dream, he really had to wake up, now.

He tore his eyes away from the ledge where his best friend had been only seconds ago and turned to Lassiter who was staring straight ahead like he'd just been told he could no longer carry a gun.

He then looked at Gus who caught something odd in the detective's eye.

The signature blazing angry look was still there, but there was something else that was unfamiliar to Gus. It was some kind of inconceivable, hopeless look that vanished quickly as he came to his senses and ran over to the edge.

"Dammit!" he yelled as he looked down. He turned around again. "I can't even see my hand in front of my damn face!"

Gus wondered if Lassie could feel the building trembling or if it was just his world crashing down around him. Then he realized he was shaking.

"You guys what is going on up there?" Juliet called up to them. It was like her voice brought him back to earth. He could think logically now.

His best friend had just jumped off a hundred-foot tower. Just hearing it in passing makes it sound like something his borderline insane friend would do. But when you really thought about it…

Gus let out a little involuntary gasp which got him what looked like a meaningful look from Lassiter.

"O'Hara, go check on the other guys we have cuffed downstairs and wait for us," the head detective said steadily.

Gus could almost see the confused look on her face. "What if you need help?"

"We're fine. We just need to look around up here."

"Fine." He could hear the sound of her and the cackling doctor's footsteps retreating downstairs.

Gus didn't look to Lassiter for an explanation. He didn't need one.

He found himself remembering one day when they were ten and he and Shawn wanted to jump off the roof. They had made a foolproof plan, complete with makeshift parachutes and all, but Henry caught them anyway. They didn't do it after that.

Oh God, Henry, Gus thought. Who's going to be the one to tell him?

It took all of his strength not to completely break down. He just wanted to stay in that spot forever and never have to deal with the aftermath or the goodbyes. That's probably why he hadn't moved from his spot. That was where he'd been standing when Shawn was last with him, and moving from the spot would just seem like finality. And Gus didn't want to let go.

"Guster," Lassiter's voice spoke firmly but calmly. Gus looked up. How long had the detective been standing in front of him?

Lassiter sighed. "Why?"

It took a moment for Gus to realize what he was being asked. And when he did, it hit him like a truck.

I'm being asked why my best friend would throw himself off a tower? As if he might've mentioned it to me a few hours ago that he might go and off himself?

Off himself.

Shawn Spencer, smart, funny, charming, Shawn Spencer, had just killed himself?

There was no way his best friend who was so full of life would ever do something like that.

He was as sure of that fact as he was when Jessie's death was called a suicide.

He would not let that happen to Shawn.

He looked up at Lassiter. "He was murdered."

Lassiter's mouth twitched. "Guster…"

"There is no way Shawn would take his own life. I know that for certain. That twisted bastard Ingham let you take him, he might even admit it."

Lassiter shook his head. "How would he have –"

"I don't know!" Gus yelled. "What I do know is that my best friend would never kill himself, and if you feel like you got to know him in the slightest over the past half a decade, then you would agree!"

He hesitated. "We – we can't do anything right now. We have a bunch of people we need to take to the station and lots of other things to deal with."

"Other things?" Gus said incredulously. "You look me in the eye and tell me that my best friend's death wasn't the highlight of our night."

Lassiter looked at him. "I now this is tough –"

Gus almost laughed. "Who are you kidding? You don't care and you know it. You never gave a shit about him until just now. How about you make that call to Henry, huh? How about you call and tell him his only kid is dead and you were a few steps away from stopping it? Would you like that?"

Lassiter seemed to visibly shrink a way from Gus' words.

"Yeah I'm sure it's a lot easier for you to deal with. He wasn't your best friend. You don't have to live with knowing that this hellhole was the last place he ever got to see. Or that you've lost two people in this disgusting place. You don't have to deal with the fact that in his last moments you were screaming at him."

"Guster you have to keep your head."

"Honestly Lassiter? I just don't care anymore." Gus could feel the spirit draining out of him. He couldn't even muster enough emotion to be angry or grieving anymore.

Lassiter actually looked a little concerned from the way Gus' tone had changed so suddenly.

"We have to go help O'Hara," he told him. "It's no use being up here."

Gus nodded and followed him down the door in the ground to find Juliet. He was lost in his thoughts when Lassiter turned to him. "Do you smell smoke?"


Shawn Spencer, beaten and battered, but very much alive, came to very groggily with his body hurting all over.

He took a breath to confirm he was indeed alive and had survived his little stunt. It was pained and it made his chest ache, but he could breathe and he was going to be okay.

His jump seemed to clear his senses a little bit and he became aware of how incredibly stupid his act had been.

True, he'd jumped off the tower to get rid of the uncontrollable longing that he'd been carrying with him all night, thanks to the lunatic Ingham.

His plan worked, although it could've gone horribly wrong. Like if the giant, protruding rafter that he was currently spread out on hadn't been able to hold him. Or if the lever couldn't open the one he'd had to release. Hell, the 20-foot drop could've hurt him pretty badly too.

What was I thinking?

But he already knew the answer to that question. He'd been thinking that it was the way to finally end the "spell" of the hypnosis. Ingham had plainly told him he wouldn't be able to escape it until he gave in. By the way the other victims' ended up, he didn't want to take the risk of not believing him.

So to prevent taking a risk, he had to take risk. That was just how the strange, twisted mind of Shawn Spencer worked.

Even though it had been somewhat of a last minute improv, it wouldn't have been impossible to let Gus in on what was happening. Shawn was going to pay for this one.

He'd also wanted to fool Ingham into believing he could happily rot in jail now that he had accomplished his goal of taking out his last victim. Maybe he'd admit to the other murders.

He knew what he had to do. Surprisingly, he had thought ahead this far. At the same time he noticed the levers under the top room of the bell tower could open and close the rafters, he noticed that pushing them open left a breach in the wall that a person could probably fit through.

Except his body didn't agree with this plan.

He tried to roll over toward the building, but everything hurt. The pain left him exhausted and a few moments later he tried again. It just wasn't working.

In his efforts, he looked over the edge of the rafter and felt a stab of fear at the thick darkness.

Fear. He didn't think he'd ever been so glad to be scared. He was afraid of the edge, he wasn't faced with the crazed desire to embrace it. He really had overcome the hypnosis.

He thought he heard something coming from his destination at the opening of the wall of the building. He realized it was the sound of someone coming down the trapdoor. He heard Lassie's voice.

A swell of hope rising in his chest, he desperately wanted to call out to them, but his voice failed and they were gone too quickly anyway.

Determined now, Shawn wasn't going to let anything stop him. It took a few more minutes and many more tries, but he finally succeeded in getting his body up to the opening. With much effort, he was able to none-too-gracefully slide into the room and onto the floor.

He'd done it. Now he had to find Gus, Jules, and Lassie. Which required moving, something he was so not up to at the moment.

He pushed himself up to a standing position along the wall. He could walk, but he sure wasn't getting anywhere fast anytime soon.

But he'd get out if it killed him.


Lassiter and Gus had followed the scent of smoke downstairs to the kitchen where Juliet was standing, still hanging on to Ingham, looking frightened.

They saw that the whole kitchen area was up in flames that looked ready to take over everything in its path.

"O'Hara!" Lassiter called.

She turned. "Carlton! When I got here it was like this! I don't know how it started, all the other guys are where they were left!"

Lassiter seemed unsure of what to do as well. He wasn't a fireman, he'd never been involved in a fire, and the way O'Hara was looking at him like he had all the answers frustrated him. He would just have to think like a police officer.

"Come on get away from there! It's spreading fast! We have to get everyone out of here! I'll get the guy in the room over here, Guster you go with O'Hara to get the two in the other room."

They followed his instructions and disappeared. Lassiter entered the room where the huge man had been left, only to find that he wasn't there.

He was gone with Lassiter's handcuffs and that enraged him further. He realized what had happened. The wall he'd been cuffed to had started to burn away and once it was weak enough, the strong man was able to pull himself out.

There was no sign of him and Lassiter wasn't going to search around a burning building looking for him. It was made entirely of wood and would burn down quickly. It had overtaken a good part of the building and the smoke was starting to get to him.

He thought that he could hear the distant sound of sirens approaching and he hoped to God it was. He wasn't sure they'd be able to make it back on their own, especially with what happened with Spencer…

He covered his mouth and nose with his tie in attempt to keep the smoke away and started toward the door. The back of the building was already in flames by this point and he felt relieved when he bumped into Juliet and Gus at the front.

They weren't accompanied by anyone else either and he figured the same thing must've happened to them since the fire was at the back.

He told them to get to the car. It was chaotic after that, but they all did get outside and to the car. Lassiter was happy to be welcomed by flashing red and blue lights.

He looked around doing a reflexive head count and almost jumped when he noticed they were one short. Then he remembered.

Immediately Chief Vick was on him.

"Carlton! Are you okay, what the hell happened?"

Breathing fresh air hurt his lungs but he managed to respond. "There were problems as soon as we got here. Couldn't radio for help. Fire just started and we had to get everyone out."

"The fire department is on its way, we're taking the other man away now. Doctor Ingham isn't he?"

"Yeah. How do you –"

"We investigated the building further and found out that Ingham's son had been paying insurance for the building all along. We couldn't get an address and when we tried to reach you, we couldn't get through. We were afraid something was wrong and I'm glad we came."

"Me too." Lassiter, Juliet, and Gus answered at the same time.

He turned to look at them and saw that they looked disheveled. Especially Guster.

"Mr. Guster we can take you to a hospital in one of the cruisers, you look pretty bad," Vick offered. "All of you actually should go."

"No," Gus said firmly but distantly.

"And for God's sake where is –" she started, but was cut off by Henry.

"Where the hell is Shawn?" he demanded.

"You guys were with him last," Juliet said turning to them and making Lassiter and Gus stare into blank, questioning faces and try to answer a question they didn't want to tell.


Shawn smelled the smoke soon after he began his journey down the hallway to the staircase that would lead to his freedom. It also didn't take long for him to realize what had most likely started the fire.

The burning cigarette on the stove had been a fire hazard waiting to happen the first time he saw it. He just wished he'd had the sense to put it out then. Ingham had undoubtedly planned it.

The smoke was making it harder to breathe than it already was and he just wanted to stop. But he'd promised Gus that everything would be fine and he wasn't going to back down. Not when there would be so many movie references to make after this. That is, when he could talk.

He was at the stairs now and he eased himself down, keeping a tight grip on the railing.

God, there were so many steps.

When he finally reached the bottom he knew he could do it. He pushed forward and out the door. He would get as far as he could before he collapsed, because it would absolutely suck if he made it this far and they he ended up being left because they didn't see him.

He wasn't sure how close or how far he was when he finally fell, but he could've sworn that he never even hit the ground because his friends had caught him.


When he opened his eyes again, Shawn was afraid of what he might see. He'd woken up to such horrors in the past night that he didn't ever want to see again.

But before he was seeing, he could feel the difference. He wasn't in the asylum anymore.

Oh yeah, I got out and collapsed, he remembered.

But he couldn't keep his eyes closed forever. He'd have to take a risk.

Haven't I taken enough of those tonight?

His eyelids were heavy but they willingly opened and when his eyes focused, he realized he was lying down and staring up at Gus, his best friend, who was looking straight ahead with a worried expression.

He also noticed he was in a car. Lassie's car by the smell of it. He inhaled.

Sweet coffee and fresh leather, mmm…

He was safe. He was alive. And his head was… in Gus' lap?

"Gus," he breathed, "it's not that I don't love you, but this is just too weird, hopefully you agree."

Gus looked down at him, which increased the awkwardness ten-fold.

"Shawn?"

"Val Kilmer actually."

"Oh my God, you're okay! You're okay!" Gus shouted just in case people who lived in New Jersey couldn't hear.

He looked up again to make eye contact with the people sitting up front, who Shawn guessed was Lassie and Jules.

Shawn swallowed. It hurt. "I'm sorry Gus."

Gus looked appalled. "For what?"

Already he was feeling tired. His speech was slurring. "Shoulda let you know 'bout my plan to jump on the rafter. Never intended to go splat."

Gus sighed. "I'll forgive you. Don't ever do it again."

"Deal," Shawn said, and then added after some thought, "Did we get Ingham?"

"Hell yeah. That sick bastard."

Shawn smiled. "Good. But seriously dude, this position is really strange."

"Well there really wasn't another choice Shawn."

"Why aren't I in an ambulance?"

"There wasn't enough time to wait for an ambulance Shawn. We thought you were going to die!"

"Dude, my head is on your thighs, it's weird."

"So you'd choose death over laying on me? What's wrong with my thighs?"

"Nothing buddy, I just –" His breath hitched. He couldn't catch his breath for a second.

"Shawn?" his friend said, becoming concerned-Gus again.

"What's going on?" another voice demanded.

Dad?

"We're almost at the hospital," said a voice that sounded a lot like Shawn's favorite head detective.

Shawn found his breath again. "I'm 'kay."

Gus breathed a sigh of relief. It'd taken Shawn up until now to realize that his friend had been shaking.

"This," Gus started, "is my worst Halloween ever."

Shawn smirked. "Second worst."

"What?"

"It's still my second worst Halloween ever," Shawn said sincerely.

Gus looked at him for a moment and then looked up. He brought his cupped hand to his mouth as if thinking about something and then turned to look out the window. Then he started to chuckle to himself.

Shawn had no idea why.


A/N: Well there you have it! Obviously an epilogue will be on its way. Hopefully it'll be better than this semi-conclusion.

Review for an epilogue!