Hope you liked this new chap! Please, feel free to review, I'd love to know your thoughts :)

Psycho

With a road map in his hand, one eye at it and the other on the way, Shawn drove heading West at what once before was a main road, just outside Santa Barbara. The boardwalk started to disappear as he drove deeper into the continent, heading to a hidden path between the woods.

The scent of pine and fresh dirt invaded the car that had a small crack open, allowing the chilly wind of the night to invade it. The old oak trees had its branches intertwined, closing themselves in a tunnel of leaves, making the path more mysterious than should be.

Constantly, Shawn would look at his rearview mirror, checking for any other vehicles on the road but finding it alarmingly empty. He didn't understand how Sixty made that possible. Although that part of Santa Barbara's outskirts was abandoned in almost its entirety, the road gives access to the US- 101.

He checked the map again, one more turn to the left, giving him access to a highway where he would have to drive 15 more miles until his final destination.

Through the window, Shawn could see the moon, that white full round ball following him like a loyal dog. The silver glow, so similar to the one covering his previous room, was now splashing shadows of the leaves on his panel, painting the cream interior of the car with negative spaces of the images outside.

His mind traveled between that moment and all the last events.

Shawn wasn't sure what time it was, he guessed around 3 A.M. by the position of the moon, but he never paid enough attention to his father's or Gus' astronomic explanations, playing "Back to the Future" in his head whenever the teachings started. Now he regretted it deeply. Maybe if he had paid attention he wouldn't be so lost in space and time. He was sure his cellphone was still dropped at his apartment's floor, the screen probably cracked, leaving him with no means of communication.

But as he realized, if he tried to contact anyone it could lead to a very unpleasant disclosure. The last thing Shawn wanted was to make a call that would kill any of his friends.

The adrenaline running through his veins added to the fear and worry in his heart were making him full alert, the smallest change in the wind was noticed, and at each second Shawn rewinded the previous weeks, searching for clues, anything that would lead him to the identity of Sixty.

How many hats are in the room Shawn?

Dad! Not again!

How many Shawn?

Now it didn't matter. He knew the hats but had no face to attach them on.

Moving in his seat, Shawn found a more comfortable position, if that was possible due to his tensed body. If he made out alive from that madness he was sure Gus would have to prescribe him high doses of muscle relaxant.

Gus.

The image of the fire climbing through those fake walls crossed his eyes, the fear, the absence of an answer.

Gus was his best friend, the only one who was there in all his adventures, the one who boarded in all his most idiotic and dangerous ideas such as jumping out of his roof to see how long it took for them to hit the floor (three weeks in a cast for both of them), the one who was the only other member at the boy scout troop spearheaded by his father. Gus was the one who sneaked a box of Chocodiles into his best friend's room in the middle of the night and ate them with him when Shawn found out his parents were getting divorced.

Gus was the only one who understood why Shawn became the man he was and how hard his childhood was. Growing up under the strict authority of Mr. Spencer and all the expectations he put on his kid could change a boy forever. All the discussions, all the fights, Gus was there.

He was the last person Shawn saw before he ran away from Santa Barbara and the first one he called when he came back.

Shawn breathed deep, passing one hand through his hair.

He couldn't lose Gus.

His mind shifted then to the image of that black piano, the tall lanky figure of Lassiter, sitting so immobilized at the stool, made Shawn shudder.

Sure they both fought, Lassie always going by the book while Shawn would make the possible and impossible to turn the odds in his favor, even creating new rules if necessary, but in the end, he knew he had earned the Head Detective's respect.

After all these years Lassiter had become more than a coworker. He was a friend. Someone Shawn invited to his birthday parties and family gatherings, even him refusing to attend. The one Shawn messed the most with because it was his crooked way to show how much he cared.

Although Shawn wasn't sure about their safety, he decided to accept that they had escaped, that they were okay, otherwise he wouldn't be able to function and focus on saving the rest of his team.

The headlights illuminated poorly a construction a few feet away.

That was it, he was arriving at the next part of that sadic charade.

Shawn parked and turned off the engineer, listening to the car go silent and everything around him turn dark. He dropped out, closing the door behind him with a slam, maintaining his body near to the car, just in case something he wasn't prepared for appeared.

Startled, he jumped when a big sign was brought to life, pink and blue lights glowing against the sky, one letter blinking as the energy in it was ending, giving the thing a cheap appearance. But what scared him the most was what the neon letters spelled:

Bates Motel.

Psycho.

The front porch lit up, dragging his attention at it. With careful steps, Shawn approached the wood construction, hearing the old looking boards grit under his weight, emitting a pitchy sound into the silent night. At the reception door another note, just like the previous ones, was waiting for him.

Shawn grabbed it, stepping back.

He examined the whole scenario, a perfect replica of the movie's set. All cabins numbered, the foggy window of the reception. Shawn even bet that inside there he would find Norman's creepy stuffed birds. Well, he was hoping for the birds and not something else.

At the back, he could see Mrs. Bates' old house. The oddly black place, with a similar to the cabins' wood porch and the front door closed. The curtains down, covering any possibility of peeking inside.

With a trembling hand, as Shawn couldn't calm his racing heart and anxious body, he opened the folded paper, finding a new clue to pursue.

Mr. Spencer

I see you made fine down here.

I hope the view was pleasant and that you came prepared for us to continue this lovely night's plans.

I believe though, that all the driving made you very tired so please, help yourself with a key and a bed to rest.

Shawn turned the knob to discover the reception door unlocked. Inside he found a register book opened and a key resting above it. Fast he grabbed the key, reading the tag attached to it informing room number 01 was designated for him.

What were the odds?

He then picked the book in his hands leafing it, looking for names and numbers. On the last page, he found two names written in fine calligraphy and black ink.

Henry "Sam" Spencer

Karen "Lila" Vick

They were there. Hidden somewhere inside that place.

Shawn closed his eyes, trying to remember all the scenes from the motion picture, all characters, places, movements, nuances. It had been a few years since the last time he watched Hitchcock's masterpiece, still, thanks to his abilities, it was like he was watching the movie at that very moment.

Room 12!

In the movie, Sam Loomis and Lila Crane pretend to be married in order to find out what happened to Marion. Norman gives them the key to room 12.

For a split second Shawn ignored the fact that Juliet's name wasn't written there and wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not but, at the present moment, he couldn't have the luxury to worry about it. He had to follow the lead because if he allowed his mind to focus on Jules, even for a second, he was at the risk to never end that sick game.

Ignoring the instructions inside the note Shawn sprinted out, heading towards the room his father and the Chief could be trapped inside. The door was unlocked and he entered, switching the light to have a clear vision. He found two empty chairs positioned side by side, loosened ropes dropped on the floor, a note above one of the seats.

Sneaky boy.

Your clever mind could only bring you here.

Unfortunately, I don't appreciate my guests breaking my rules.

Besides, it would be so easy don't you think? I would be underestimating your abilities.

Again, go to your room and take a rest. Don't make me do it, you are not going to like it.

An icy shiver went down his spine and Shawn dropped his head on his hands.

At each move he took more stupid he felt.

He couldn't find anything or beat this monster at his traps. If Lassie and Gus had managed to escape by now, they were back at the police station, either being manipulated just like he was or fighting their butts out, trying to save the remaining prisoners before all that turned into a bloody mess.

The only conclusion Shawn could drawn was that, whatever murder happening that night, it would be Hitchcock's style and that was something he could work with.

He was on the set of Psycho, so the options were either the death at the shower or the ladder stab, the car would only be used to dispose of the body.

The car.

Shawn left the room to check the green vehicle, relieved to see it still parked at the same spot.

Feeling his hands tied, he walked towards cabin 01, finding it unlocked and furnished the same way it was in the movie. Checking the bathroom first, Shawn didn't find any traces of blood or any cleaning supplies that could have disappeared with it.

Defeated he returned to the bedroom, letting his body sink above the bed. His hair, always perfectly fixed, was now ruined due to the significant times he ran his hands through it, leaving it messed and a little greasy.

He just wanted that to end, wanted to regain power over the situation, to have the pleasure of seeing that monster behind bars, or worse. Shawn was never the "sick for blood" type. Unlike Lassie, he didn't feel the need to put a bullet at the criminals' heads. Arresting them was good enough. But now, after all this madness, Shawn was finding himself in a place where watching that idiot murder having a bullet in his head, or even better, himself making sure to be the one putting it there, wasn't that unpleasant anymore.

And that thought scared him.

Because, even though he always knew the drill when it came to being a cop, knowing how to shoot, having even fired a gun a couple of times, Shawn wasn't a killer. One of the reasons why he never became a cop, besides giving the pleasure of his father being right about him, was the fact that one way or another he would come to a situation, a day, where he would have to kill someone, either to protect his life or someone else's. He knew what that action could do with a man.

Shawn remembered seeing his father arrive at home after one of these days. It wasn't often, fortunately, but it happened, and the expression in the older man's face was something he would never forget. Defeat, regret, pain, were a few adjectives to describe the surface of what the deep inside might be holding.

He remembered seeing that pain in Juliet's eyes the first time she fired a deadly shot on a perp.

She did it to protect Shawn.

For a moment he wished she had let him die so he would never have to see that look on her face.

But now, as the life of people he cared for were on the line, his boundaries were changing and the limits where he was willing to go stretching at each new image his mind would conjure of any of his friends' dead bodies.

Unwillingly, he laid down on the bed and waited. Turning to his side, he kept a good glance at the window, checking any movements outside, his eyes glued at the parked car.

The absence of a clock anywhere near made Shawn uninformed about the hours or how much time had passed since he first entered the cabin. To him felt like days but he guessed it couldn't be more than half an hour. His mind would drift between the files, the pictures of the victims, the places where the police found them.

In all of the cases everything was quite mysterious but, this time, not so much. Shawn knew where he was, even though he couldn't track the time. He wasn't tied up anymore but couldn't leave. He didn't know who Sixty was but knew the people's lives he was playing with.

This time it wasn't a random assassination.

This time, it was personal.

This guy wanted to taunt him, to poke deep until all his energy and strength were drained out. He was testing Shawn's limits and capabilities.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed his window and Shawn jumped out of the bed, grabbing the lamp resting at the nightstand beside him to use in need of a weapon. He watched the doorknob turn and raised his arm, ready to beat up anyone crossing it.

To his shock and relief, it was the person he feared for the most in all that mess.

Juliet was standing there, the same black and white dress, the same frightened eyes.

Where that man could possibly be keeping her?

What was her role in all that mess anyway?

He stepped closer, examining her from head to toe, looking for any signs of injuries, lacerations, cuts or anything else.

A quick flashback crossed his eyes and Shawn traveled back a few years, just when he enrolled in the idea of becoming a "bounty hunter". Juliet had been hit, leaving a superficial but extent cut on her forehead. It was the first thing he noticed when he saw her and the thing he most worried about until the injury was completely healed. After that day, whenever he saw her, Shawn discreetly examined the Detective, just to make sure she wasn't masking a possible serious injury she rated as "no big deal".

"Shawn? What are you doing in the lady's room?"

"I saw you coming here in a hurry."

"Yeah, but that doesn't answer my question or justify you being here." - her arms crossed over her chest and the suspicious look on her face added more weight to her words.

"You're bleeding." - he shyly pointed one of his fingers at her head while the other hand was shoved in his pocket.

"Oh, this? Just a small cut on the forehead Shawn, I'm fine. You don't need to come to babysit me."

"If you were fine you wouldn't have almost passed out ten minutes ago and you wouldn't be bleeding now." - his eyes, so filled with worry and seriousness Juliet almost didn't recognize him.

"I…"

"At least let me help you with the bandage, okay?"

"Shawn…"

"Please?" - his insistent words combined with his preoccupied voice wined her over and Jules handed him the cotton ball and the medicine she had settled in the sink.

Shawn approached her, his face inches away from her, his hands touched the wounded spot in her forehead with such delicacy and ability it was like he had done that a hundred times.

"How do you know how to do this?"

"My father taught me in case I didn't have any medical assistance while "in the field" and I did his bandages for years when he wanted to hide them from my mom."

"Oh… that's sweet, I guess."

"It's a way to put it." - He grinned at her, his lips in a soft curve and his eyes filled with pure care Juliet couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach, and the feeling was only boosted by his heat involving her, his cologne impregnating her nose.

"All done." - he had set a new bandage over the now cleaned and dried cut, doing a better job than she ever could. His thumb pressed the white piece one more time, gentle, to make sure it was secured and Shawn took the opportunity to smooth the lines on Juliet's forehead, feeling her relax instantly while her cheeks gained a new pinkish color.

They stared at each other for a second or two, half-lost in their own trance before Juliet broke the gaze.

"Thank you, Shawn. You didn't have to."

"But I wanted Jules. It's the only way I know."

"Know what?"

"That you're safe."

Her dumbfounded face probably gave away the surprise that the last statement caused her and at that moment she saw the real Shawn beneath all the jokes and childish reckless acts. When he trusted enough this sweet side would show up and to her, it was the first time she actually understood how deep her heart was hooked at his.

She realized how much he paid attention and how much he cared.

Shawn always knew when she was trying to mask pain, and after a few unsuccessful confrontations, he discovered that the strategy was to wait until her act breaks and offer help, either to change a bandage, to clean a wound, or simply help her carry the weight of multiple file boxes when her body was all beaten up.

To his relief, she appeared physically fine, no evident marks. Maybe his words back at the room intimidated their captor or that sick man was planning something worse than the psychic could imagine. He decided not to go further on that thought.

Her lips quivered a bit, and a single tear escaped from her eyes, ripping Shawn's heart in two. Her gaze, usually so cheerful, was now completely changed. He stepped even closer to her, his thumb already moving to dry off the tear on her cheek when she stopped him with her hand.

Confused but obedient, he stayed at his spot, one foot away from her. She raised her arm, handing him another folded paper. Her body was stiff and mechanical as if each wrong move could cause real damage.

Shawn picked the paper, unfolding it right away. With a final glance at her blue eyes, just to make sure she wouldn't vanish once he turned his attention, he read the note.

Break time has come to an end.

Now it is time for some fun.

I believe the cabin can be a very lonely place, and I, personally, find the solitude often gloomy.

Care to join me in the main house, perhaps we can have some tea.

Oh, before I forget, no talking or your pretty lady becomes fireworks.

Shawn didn't even finish the letter before his worried look returned to Juliet. There, blinking under the first layer of her skirt, was a tiny red dot, very similar to the one he saw back at Lassiter's piano.

His stomach dropped, the knot in his throat tightening at each breath.

Not Jules.

His eyes glistened, fresh tears of pure despair and angry piling up, coloring his iris, always blue when around Juliet, as a sign of total contentment and peace, now a dark green as his stress level reached its limit.

Signaling him to follow her, Jules made her way out of the cabin, leading their way to the black house at the back. From behind her Shawn couldn't see the blinking red dot but could hear the low beep, muffled by his and her steps.

They stopped by the entrance, Juliet turning to face him. The automatic yellow light turned on and he could see all her delicate features covered in that mask of fear. Despite all the tension, the panic, deep down the unspoken matter between them found a way to resurface at that very inappropriate moment.

If it was from Shawn, he would kiss her right there, would make sure she would never leave his side, ever again. Would embrace her so tight that not even Lassiter would be able to split them apart. But, at the same time, it was hard to picture all those things and not feel guilty.

She hadn't chosen him.

Declan was her boyfriend, probably worrying sick to find out where she was, to find out what was happening. He could imagine the filthy rich man spending all his resources to find his girl. Suddenly his talk with Gus from nights ago, when Nadia was captured, crossed his mind.

"... You've been obsessed with this woman this whole time, she makes the ultimate move on you, and you shut her down? What's wrong with you? That makes no sense. Are you crazy?"

"I know, it doesn't make any sense. Maybe I am crazy. All I can tell you is that just now, at that moment, all I could think about was Jules. I just can't wrap myself around the fact that she's dating Declan. It's actually...It's actually killing me."

"Shawn, that is not fair."

"I know. I know it's not fair. And you're right. If she likes this guy who am I to stand in the way?"

"Exactly."

"You think I don't wanna her to be happy? I want her to be happy. But, serious Shawn moment here. I wanna to be happy too. And for some reason, I can't imagine that happening without Juliet."

He wanted Jules to be happy, he really did. That's why he never asked her to stay. If she loved Declan so let it be. He would rather move on knowing that she was happy than dragging her to his mess and preventing her from having the life she deserves, even if that meant he would have to watch the love of his life walk away.

Shawn knew he didn't deserve her. He had begun their uncertain relationship based on lies, and Declan was fast enough to realize (even if it was Shawn who pointed that out to him) that he couldn't start anything with Juliet if he was lying to her.

Shawn shook his head, trying to get the memory out of there. He had to focus, had to protect Jules the best he could.

He took a deep breath, prepared to face whatever it took to end up with all that.

A small smile crept its way to Shawn's lips, his reassurance that no matter what, he would fight, he would save her. To his surprise, she smiled shyly back at him. He held the urge to reach for her hand and with a nod signed her he was ready.

Juliet then took a deep breath and lifted one finger to ring the doorbell. Immediately the floor beneath her opened and she was dragged down.

Shawn had to give his best not to cry out her name. He bent down, inspecting the hole, discovering it was a tunnel leading to an unknown location. Before he could go any further the door from the hatch closed and he was left alone once more.

Some tears escaped from his eyes, his blood pressure probably higher than any desirable level. He dried his face with the sleeve of his white shirt and traveled his attention back at the porch.

He couldn't leave now, not when he knew that other lives were in his hands too.

The door unlocked and he pushed it, stepping further into the house. The entrance was poorly illuminated, shadowing some forms against the wall. Shawn could identify some vases hanging upon carved pillars and the awful smell of mothballs. He turned at the sound of the front door closing behind him.

His memory recalled the scenes from the movie once again. If he was correct Mrs. Bates stabs the private investigator by the stairs.

Without thinking twice Shawn ran inside, searching for the stairs which he found located only a couple of feet ahead. There, in the handlebar was another note glued. The room was darker than the entrance and he had to move closer to a lighted candle attached to the wall to be able to read it.

Mr. Spencer,

You finally made home. I believe your lady friend could be quite distracting, that is why I did you the favor of keeping her quiet so you wouldn't waste time.

Now that you are here, the actual fun can begin.

At the top of the stairs, both actors are getting ready for the shooting.

Looking up he saw Chief Vick dressed in an old floral nightgown, a knife in her hands. More to the left, with his back half facing the stairs, was his father, tied up in a chair, gag in his mouth. The scene at first didn't make sense to him until he climbed a few steps into their direction.

A firing mechanism was positioned some feet behind Karen and had a wire connected to the knife in her hands. The longer she held the knife near herself, the closer the gun would get to her body until it fired, putting a bullet in her head. If she stabbed Mr. Spencer the gun would stop moving and the man would be sent down the stairs exactly like Arbogast.

It was a dead end.

Either Chief Vick killed his father or the gun would kill her.

Shawn knew, without a doubt, that she would hold the knife up as long as it took. She wouldn't let Henry die, not under her watch.

Since all that started, Karen felt powerless. She was worried not only about the safety of her city but also the safety of her own, the brilliant detectives and cops under her supervision and guidance, putting their lives on the line to find this man.

She couldn't protect the previous victims but, if she could do anything now, for sure she would do it.

On the other hand, Shawn knew that inside his father's mind he already had a plan to save Karen's life, regardless if meant losing his own.

Shawn carefully stepped closer, trying to come up with any solutions. He wouldn't let anyone die, not that night.

He looked into his father's eyes and the only thing he could remember was the day he watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off for the first time. He was only 10 years old and, against his father's will, watched the movie which would become his life model for the years to come. Ferris' quote " Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." became his motto and Shawn lost count of how many times he attempted at pulling off the same lie Buller did to skip school.

Sure his father was never easy on him but Shawn for sure wasn't better.

Despite all the insane cop training, fights, and non discussed issues between his dad and him, Shawn loved the old man and knew he was loved back. All the gibberish and lies his father put up with all those years, and the fact that he never gave up on him, not even when Shawn ran away, was proof of that.

Shawn kept staring at his father, his expression quizzical on how to solve that trap. He felt like a 10 years old all over again, asking his father answers for questions he couldn't understand.

Henry looked back at him and with a nod and a quick movement showed exactly what his son had to do. When the realization came, Shawn couldn't help the indignation.

He had to be kidding him.

He asked him to close his eyes.

Come on Shawn, close your eyes.

Dad!

Close. Now, how many hats are in the room?

Shawn did as he was told, this time not looking for hats, but for failures in the system. His mind jumped from one detail to another until he found the winning prize. If he pulled the wire connecting the gun and the knife, Chief Vick would fall to her side, disarming the gun. And even if it fired, the time the bullet takes to travel to its target would be enough for Henry to throw his body weight to his left, tripping the chair over, avoiding the shot.

With a final nod from his father and a glance at the deer frightened eyes of Karen, Shawn did it, he pulled the wire.

It all happened in a second. He heard the gunshot and had time to see his father duck. The pullback from the gun added to the force he put on pulling the wire made Shawn trip over the step, leading him to a back fall down the stairs.

His whole body screamed from the impact and took him a good couple of seconds to regain his strength to put himself on his feet.

Fast he climbed up the stairs again to check his father and the Chief. To his surprise, they were gone, just like Gus and Lassiter were before. He found the knife and the ropes holding his father to the chair left behind. Fortunately, he didn't spot any traces of blood.

However, they vanished and he hoped they had escaped.

Running his hand over his hair, Shawn looked around, trying to find the next note. There, attached to the disassembled gun was the cream piece of paper.

A modern hero we can say.

Congratulations Mr. Spencer, I see you are a fair player.

Gladly our game isn't over.

I must confess I enjoy our interactions more and more.

Outside your vehicle awaits.

Let's go on another adventure.

Shawn smashed the paper, a scream suppressed in his lungs.

Now the only one in that game was Juliet.

His Jules.

He rushed down and went straight outside, heading to the car. The sky once so dark now was beginning to show the first signs of the morning. The pale blue wining over the silky black, the stars disappearing giving space for the twilight sun. He couldn't tell how many hours he was trapped in that madness but he was ready to put an end to it.

Opening the driver's door he was surprised by someone sitting at the passenger's seat. Juliet had her seat belt already fastened, her previous black and white dress traded for a gray skirt suit, very similar to the ones she uses at the station, her head facing the front window. On her lap was resting another piece of cream paper.

Shawn entered the car, locking the door and carefully reaching for the note, checking Jules for any signs of injuries, like he had done previously, before opening the note.

Another road trip, how exciting.

This time the travel will be longer so I believed you would enjoy the company.

I personally selected a playlist to fulfill the environment.

Oh, don't forget, not a peep.

Immediately he looked at Juliet, trying to locate the bomb once trapped in her body. She moved her head in denial and pointed to the panel in front of them. The bomb was in the car.

He breathed relieved. At least it wasn't in her.

Turning his head to her, Shawn realized her body was slightly relaxed as the bomb was no longer in her. It was wrong to say that she was okay, but now he knew he could touch Jules without exploding her in the process.

So he did.

Catching her by surprise, Shawn intertwined his finger with hers, squeezing her hand gently, feeling she reciprocate the movement with more strength. Juliet was scared, terrified. The reassurance of his hand in hers finally made her relax enough to allow a bit of the panic to escape.

Silent sobs shook her body and shed tears on her cheeks.

She had been trapped in tunnels and dark rooms all night, alone, scared, set up, threatened, blindfolded, gagged, bombed. It was all too much.

Her quiet pain killed Shawn piece by piece. He let go of her hand quickly, and with his thumb dried the tears on her cheeks, caressing briefly the soft skin. He then turned the engineer on, pulling them out of the parking lot towards the road. The small map behind the note informed him he would drive through a straight line from almost an hour and a half until he arrived at his destination.

Shawn didn't know what was coming next, but now that he had Juliet by his side he wouldn't let her go of him. It was time to end it. He hoped that his friends, even more, his family were okay and on their way to find them.

Clutching the steering wheel with one hand, Shawn used the other to grab Juliet's hand again, bringing it to his lips leaving a soft kiss there. The action caused a tiny smile and calmed her sobs.

She was there, and although he couldn't control their situation Shawn could make sure she was safe.

Juliet was the most precious person in his life. He couldn't prevent her kidnapping but now there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to protect her life.

For her, he was ready to fight.