The persistent beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound piercing the otherwise perfect silence of the hospital room as Shawn opened his eyes again.

He lay still for a long moment, letting the memories slowly drift back to him.

It's over…

It's over…

Except it's not.

It can't be.

His eyes fell over his father, on the other side of the room. He was propped up, asleep, in a very uncomfortable-looking chair; his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on his hand.

His other arm was bandaged and in a sling, and his face was burned and badly cut.

What happened?

Shawn resisted the impulse to wake him up and ask.

It doesn't matter.

He's still alive…

The Psycho's still alive…

It's not over.

Henry snored, shifting in his sleep.

Shawn lay silently, still watching him.

It's not over…

He closed his eyes again, listening to the rhythmic beeping and his father's steady, quiet breathing as he slowly drifted back to sleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt something other than pure, unabashed terror.

Henry was already up when he awoke again. He was standing at the window, peering into the parking lot below.

"He's not coming back yet. Not this soon," Shawn said, sitting up as best he could.

Henry turned around.

"I know. Not yet. But he is coming back."

"Of course he is. I read James Patterson. The Psycho always comes back for one last try."

"This isn't a joke, Shawn. For God's sake, he almost—"

Henry stopped himself from finishing the thought. Shawn just shrugged.

"It looks like you didn't get off that easily, yourself. What happened?"

"Parking garage car bomb. Should've seen it coming…"

Shawn nodded.

"Nice. Car bomb. No points for originality, but judging from your bruised, battered and generally beaten-up appearance, I'd say at least a 6.5 for execution. Of course, you did survive…that's gonna hurt his final score."

"Don't kid yourself. I'm not alive because he screwed up. I got lucky. And so did you."

"Lucky?" Shawn snorted. "I kicked his butt!"

"You did a swan dive into shark-infested waters and happened to get picked up by tourists out for a sail. That's not brains, Kid. That's luck."

"Yeah…well…I saw the boat."

"Yeah, right."

Shawn exhaled loudly, completely exasperated.

"God! I can't even escape from a psycho good enough for you!"

"I'm just saying he's smart. Don't underestimate him. Don't get comfortable. Don't get careless or stupid."

Henry collapsed back into the chair, which Shawn noticed was now facing the door.

"He's smart…" Henry mumbled again, more to himself than anyone else. Shawn could see his mind working overtime.

"He used the GPS in Lassiter's car to track us. He knew right where I was every second. It was perfect."

"Wait…Lassie?" Shawn's eyebrows shot up. "How'd he get in on the fun?"

"The Psycho dragged him in…left a note on his windshield. I wouldn't be surprised if it was just for the GPS. All the police cars have them now, even the unmarked ones."

Shawn couldn't help grinning at the thought.

"So, Lassie got forced into looking for someone he'd rather not find, and then nearly got blown up…all because his car has GPS and the Psycho wanted to be able to keep track of where of you were? That's awesome!"

"All part of the game…hell, the only reason he kidnapped you was to keep me so distracted I wouldn't notice I was walking into a bomb."

"You're a very ego-centric person. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"You're the one who said I was the game…it was all about killing me."

"True…" Shawn conceded. "Seriously, though. Whatever you did to piss this guy off…just send flowers or something. Soon."

"I think we're beyond that at this point."

"Oh, I don't know…an apology can work wonders," Shawn added pointedly.

Henry looked up.

"What does that mean?"

"What? Nothing."

Shawn raised his shoulders innocently.

Henry wasn't buying it.

"Don't give me that! What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing…just that it takes a real man to admit when he's wrong…"

Henry had heard enough.

"I'm not apologizing, Shawn!" He snapped, standing back up.

"Well, it's your turn!"

"It is not! And it's not my fault you can't take a helpful suggestion!"

"'Go soak your head' is not a helpful suggestion! And it's totally your turn!"

"Well, I'm not doing it."

"Well, neither am I."

The two Spencer men sat in a silent impasse for a long moment, both sulking in their own moral superiority.

"When he comes back," Shawn groused finally, "I hope he comes after you first."

'Yeah, well…" Henry uncrossed his arms, his face softening ever so slightly.

"Me, too, kid."