Hello lovelys! Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I got inspiration for a FanFic that I hadn't updated in two months so that kind of took priority for my day yesterday. But now I am all yours!

Please review! I love reviews ever so much and would appreciate if you would review because I love reviews. (Okay. I said the word 'review' enough times, right?)

When Shawn woke up, he was greeted by the most painful headache he had since Mexico. He was almost convinced that he was just extremely hung over due to a night of partying with Gus. Maybe Mexico was involved, he couldn't be sure. But when he opened his eyes, the brutal truth came crashing down on him. No parties, no fun and games, no drinking. No, no. This was not the Mexico he remembered waking up to. And where was Gus? No. this was far worse

He tried to sit up, and to his extreme relief, he was free to do so. He then tried to stand up but found his attempts were pointless. Not because he was restrained, but because as soon as he tried his head went spinning and his muscles screamed in protest. So he settled for sitting comfortably against the wall, hoping for the dizziness to die down. While he waited, reality slowly caught up with him.

He remembered the three escaped criminals. He remembered Juliet nearly getting shot. He remembered the motorbike accident. He remembered waking up in a hospital. But this was clearly no hospital. Something must have happened after that… yes! He signed out against medical advice. No one was very pleased with him for that. He remembered the three officers in his father's house, watching him the way they had watched over Juliet. He remembered them… Lewis… Smith… and… what was the other one? Riley!

RILEY!

Now he remembered! He was playing bait with Riley, trying to catch the three escapees. He was walking down the street… the dark van! Oh, and the smell… that explained his new wave of dizziness! It wasn't only because of his still healing skull, it was the chloroform. Wait… chloroform… dark van…

Shawn's eyes shot open as he desperately took in his surroundings. Where the hell was he? He didn't recognize this place. It looked like a warehouse of some sort… but where this warehouse was, he didn't have the faintest of idea. Despite his aching muscles, Shawn stood up and patted his chest, searching for the wire. It was missing and Shawn wasn't sure if he was overcome with relief or horror at this fact. He checked his wrist and found his watch still in place. Well, at least he could be tracked.

Shawn took a couple steps forward, trying to get a better idea of where he was. But his world was spinning and after just a few steps he found himself searching for something to support himself. He settled for a nearby table, placing all of his weight on it. He looked around from where he was standing and saw an exit clearly marked out. It didn't look like it was locked or barricaded or anything of the sort. And that's when the questions finally started to airse.

Why is he still alive? Why was he not restrained? Why was the exit so clearly visible? Why was it theoretically so easy to escape? Did they think that he would be unconscious for longer than he was? Did they think that even if he did wake up, he wouldn't be able to manoeuvre himself well enough to get out? (In all honesty, that last theory seemed more and more likely by the second).

There was a sound from what seemed to be the upstairs. Shawn tried to look around to find the source of the noise. His head was spinning and there appeared to be three different staircases. He thought that was wrong until he saw that all three staircases had the exact same figure standing on top. He was confused out of his mind before he realised that there weren't three staircases. He was just so dizzy that he was seeing triple. Great.

He focused so much on the fact that there were three separate figures approaching he didn't even bother to try to recognise who exactly was there. It wasn't until the figure was right in front of him did the panic start to rise. He pushed himself off the table, not entirely sure what he intended to do.

"Shawn… SHAWN! It's just me! Calm down!" the figure said. Shawn focused all of his strength on making the three images come as one, even if for just a second. He had to know who it was.

"Riles?" Shawn mumbled.

"Hey, man" Officer Riley greeted him with a smile. Shawn collapsed onto Riley, putting all his weight on him. Riley struggled and dragged him over to the corner where there was a chair and a table that they could use. He sat Shawn down on the chair and kneeled in front of the injured man.

"What happened?" Shawn asked.

"Never mind that for now" Riley said. He then held up his hand and looked at Shawn. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Shawn squinted and really tried to count how many fingers there were, but they kept moving and changing and shaking.

"Seven?" Shawn asked.

"Two. But close enough."

"What the hell happened?" Shawn asked again.

"You tell me. One second you're just walking down the street, the next you're being taken away by a dark van."

"I honestly don't know. I only just woke up with a new chemically induced state of confusion…"

"I noticed. Look, I already called for backup. They'll be waiting for us outside."

"You called backup?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I? you were just kidnapped in front of my very eyes. I had to do something!"

"I know, but now the chief knows that you were using me as bait. You could lose your job over this."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather get fired then deal with the wrath of Henry Spencer if he were to find out that I let his son get kidnapped while I did nothing about it." Shawn stared at Riley oddly. There was just something about that sentence… something off about what Riley was saying.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." He tried to lift Shawn to his feet again, but the psychic just kept stumbling, unable to properly function. Shawn stumbled into Riley again, and he only just caught him before he hit the ground.

"Hey!" Riley finally noticed something else that was odd about Shawn. "Where the hell is your wire? I told you not to lose that! They cost a lot of money!"

"I don't know. I just woke up and it was gone." Riley stared at him in horror.

"So they knew you were wearing a wire…"

"Yeah…"

"Shawn…"

"So they knew I was just the bait" Shawn said quietly. "Oh my God, they knew this was a trap. That's why they left me!" he felt so stupid. He should have seen it sooner.

"Or…" Riley said, with more fear in his voice now than ever. "They decided to give us a taste of our own medicine…" Shawn stared at him oddly, then he realised…

He was left unharmed. He was left with a tracking device on. He was left in a room with not only easy exit routes, but easy entrance routes. He was the bait again. Only this time, it was for the Santa Barbara Police Department.

The officer and the psychic stared at each other in horror, still unsure of what to do next. It was at this point that Shawn's senses finally decided to be useful again. He heard the slight creak. He heard the click. And with what little strength he had left, he pushed the nearby table over and pulled Riley down to the floor with him.

The gun shots were closely followed by this quick action.

"Shit! Shit!" Riley cried out. "Holy balls of Shit!" Shawn stared at Riley holding back a laugh.

"Holy balls of shit?"

"This isn't good!"

"You're telling me! I just got the biggest head rush known to mankind."

Riley ignored him and pulled the gun from his belt and handed it to Shawn. The psychic stared at him in shock. Shawn knew how to shoot a gun. He was damn good at shooting a gun, and he knew he was damn good too. In fact, he had a gun around his ankle which – thankfully – had gone unnoticed by not only the convicts but Riley as well. So how the hell did Riley know he was a good shot?

"I assume, as Henry Spencer's son, you know a thing or two about shooting" Riley explained. He then pulled out his other gun from his shoulder holster and checked for the amount of ammunition he had. Shawn continued to stare at Riley, but for a completely different reason. There it was again. Something in that sentence just seemed off with Shawn. He could quite place it.

Riley jumped up and fired two shots. He shot those shots far too quickly for them to have done any good. In fact, Shawn highly doubted Riley had aimed at all. He was probably just trying to get a good look at what they were dealing with. Shawn stayed seated against the flipped table, trying to steady his head. He needed to have a good aim. To have good aim, he needed to stop seeing triple!

Riley flopped back down next to Shawn and stared at him.

"We're dealing with all three convicts" Riley explained. "They're spreading around. I think they're going to surround us. And if backup doesn't get here in time, I think whatever plan they have will follow through smoothly."

Riley didn't wait for a response for Shawn. Instead, he got up again and started shooting again. The shots were slower and much more calm. Shawn could hear the breaths that Riley drew before each shot. They were much more calculated and had a lot better aim and accuracy. Riley again flopped down next to Shawn.

"You know, any time you want to jump in would be great" Riley said. Shawn shook his head furiously, as if hoping that would somehow make the dizziness go away.

"Sorry. I'm still recovering. Just give me a second" Shawn said softly.

Riley nodded in understanding and stood back up. He only got two shots in before an unbearably loud yelp in pain was heard. Shawn's head snapped towards his new friend in worry. Riley slid back down to Shawn's level, hand over his left shoulder and blood pouring out.

"Riley!" Shawn called out and his hands fluttered around uselessly, trying to find a way to help.

"I'm fine" he spat out. His gun was still in his right hand, and he just clutched it tighter. At least he could still shoot. "I know you're still recovering, but I don't suppose you could get a couple of shots in, could you?"

"I can… try… " Shawn said doubtfully. He had managed to reduce his dizziness slightly, but he by no means thought he was ready to start shooting guns. But still, one look at Riley's desperate, in pain eyes told Shawn that trying was the least he could do. So, Shawn steadied himself, hanging on to the table. He popped up quickly from his little zone of security and aimed his gun at the only target he could see in front of him: Tom Fong.

To his utter disappointment, it wasn't just one target to him. it was two. Two very distinct targets and now he'd have to choose which one to aim for. Damn my stupid concussion! Shawn thought to himself. He decided to take a chance and aimed for the Tom Fong on the left. As soon as he took the shot, he retreated to his hiding place to hear for the reaction to his shot.

Laughter. Tom Fong laughed.

"That was pitiful, Spencer!" He called out. "You weren't even close!" Riley looked at Shawn worriedly, but Shawn just smiled at him reassuringly.

Shawn popped out of his hiding spot again and aimed for the Tom Fong on the right this time. He aimed for the convict's right hand. He took a deep breath and then pulled the trigger. Shawn ducked back into his hiding place and waited for the reaction.

Shawn actually smiled, beaming with pride, when he heard the man yell out in pain and drop his gun. He turned to Riley, who was nodding in approval. So, Shawn popped up again and took aim for Tom Fong's knee. At least this way, when back up came, Fong couldn't go anywhere. He'd be taken back to prison.

Shawn heard a gun fire and realised very quickly it wasn't from his own gun. He froze in horror, waiting for the pain to settle in. instead, he heard the sound of a body flopping over and hitting the floor. Once Shawn realised he was safe, he quickly shot Fong in the knee and turned around to see what the hell he had just missed. The first person he checked was Riley.

To his relief, Riley was just sitting where he was, right hand over bleeding shoulder, smiling the same proud smile that Shawn had had just a few moments ago. Shawn turned to look in the direction that Riley was staring and saw the body of Daniel Wayne on the floor, blood pooling around him. Shawn stared back at Riley in shock.

"He was aiming for your head" Riley explained. "I couldn't let him get the shot." Shawn nodded grimly, accepting that it was a kill or be killed situation.

Shawn and Riley listened carefully, both very aware that there was still one convict in the room that hadn't been dealt with. John Drimmer. Both of them kept their breathing quiet, as if that would make a difference. The only noise that could be heard throughout the entire warehouse was the sound of Tom Fong groaning in pain.

Riley, slowly and carefully, stood up to his feet. He took a step around the table and began to roam around in the warehouse. Shawn stayed where he was sitting. The dizziness was finally coming back with an almighty vengeance and at this point he was fighting for consciousness again.

The room surrounding Shawn was spinning in a way that made Shawn want to hurl. Instead, he forced his eyes closed and tried to imagine something far less worrying. But when the full darkness was starting to fall over him, Shawn knew better. He should stay awake… and probably go to the hospital. So, reluctantly, he pried his eyes open.

Shawn saw a figure approach him. His head was spinning and he could have sworn that it was Riley, returning from his little scavenger hunt. Instead, horror sunk in when he recognized the face as none other than John Drimmer. Shawn stared up at the gun aimed directly at his head. He stared up at his executioner knowing that there was nothing he could do. He couldn't call out for help, Riley would never get there in time. He could pick up his gun and shoot Drimmer, he wasn't fast enough. He couldn't move out of the way or even run, he was too weak.

So he closed his eyes and thought of Juliet. If these were going to be his last moments alive, you bet your ass he was going to make those moments as happy as possible. He thought about Juliet's smile, Juliet's laugh. He thought about the future that he had so often pictured with her.

And then the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the warehouse.

Shawn waited for the pain to sink in. He waited for the air in his lungs to disappear. He waited for his life to flash before his eyes. He waited for the white light to guide him. But none of it came. Confused and, quite frankly, a little disappointed with his death, Shawn opened his eyes. It wasn't until he actually saw the scene around him did he realise he wasn't actually dead.

He watched as Drimmer fell to the ground, a bleeding hole between his eyes. Shawn couldn't do anything but stare, wide eyed and jaw hanging. He tried to look away but found he simply couldn't. He could only stare.

"That's twice, now" Riley called out, being the very much needed distraction from the dead body in front of him. Shawn forced himself to his feet, moving away from the pool of Drimmer's blood that was slowly making its way towards him. He walked towards Riley, looking for him to support him. He stumbled forward and Riley caught him by the elbow, being the support that Shawn very clearly needed at this point.

"What do you mean twice?" Shawn asked. He knew perfectly well what he meant, he just needed a distraction.

"Second time I've saved your life" Riley said.

"And you'll never let me forget it, will you?" Riley laughed.

"Never." The sirens outside were like a cry from the heavens to Shawn. Finally, he could see his family and friends again. He could return to normal again. He could get this damn concussion dealt with properly. "Go on ahead" Riley said softly.

"What?"

"You're just dying to get out there. So go on, before they start breaking down the doors to get to Henry Spencer's son. I just have to stay here with these three..." Shawn smirked at Riley and started to limp and stumble towards the exit. It wasn't until he was halfway to the door that he realised there was something off about that sentence. Something off about so many things that Riley had said, not only today, but the whole time he had been guarding him. There was something very off…

And he finally made the connection.

Henry Spencer. Always Henry Spencer. He never referred to him as 'your father' or 'Mr. Spencer' or 'Henry' or any other variation. Always the formal 'Henry Spencer'. It was like meeting a celebrity. You couldn't just call him Morgan. You had to call him Morgan Freeman.

And that was when Shawn remembered. The very specific case from so many years ago. Back when Shawn was fourteen, he remembered a case Henry had. A very important case. And it definitely involved Officer Riley.

Shawn turned around to confront Riley about it, but instead was greeted by a gun in his face.