Juliet and Gus continued to follow what Gus hoped were coordinates from Shawn. The sub-basement was cold and Juliet drew her blazer tighter against her body before returning her hand to her holster.

"If I'm right, there should be a door around this corner," Gus said, holding his breath as a shadowed figure loomed across the grey linoleum in front of them. Juliet drew her gun, pointed downward but ready.

"Geez, lady, don't shoot!" An overall clad man with a bucket and mop perched on a disused, orange wheelchair cringed, his hands up in surrender to Juliet's demand that he freeze. The man withdrew an ID card from his pocket. Gus continued down the hallway saying, left, right 3D and stopping at a door.

"It's the morgue, Juliet, that's where this lead," Gus called as he slammed his shoulder against the door like Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride trying to avenge his father. And Shawn would love that in Gus's head was; Hello, my name is Crouton Buster, you killed my friend, prepare to die, over and over again as he threw himself at the door.

"I got a key," the maintenance man announced much too late for Gus's shoulder. I was jus' down in this area here to clean up some blood. Apparently some patient's wandering or something. Hope they find the poor guy soon. I called upstairs jus' now 'bout the blood and I've kept my eyes open, haven't seen anything else or heard nuthin', been moppin' fer hours with my headphones on. Is that why yer here?" the man drawled.

"Yeah, stay in front of me and unlock this door then step aside – please," Juliet instructed, gun still cocked.

"He ain't dangerous is 'e?" the man asked, hands shaking.

Juliet didn't answer. When the lock clicked, Juliet told the man to wait by the elevators and direct officers that he'd summoned.

"Yes ma'am," the man said, looking relieved to get away from the morgue.

Gus followed into the morgue after Juliet, who once again told him the room was clear, this time with disappointment in her voice to match Gus's stricken look.

"I was sure, Juliet. I was sure that Shawn had…" Gus leaned his head on the wall, his hand on his right bicep to try to quiet the throbbing pain from his run-ins with the door. He stared at the phone in his hands as if it had betrayed him, trying to fathom where he'd gone wrong in what he was sure were hints from Shawn in some horrible game of hide-and-seek. Dropping his hand to his side to rest his shoulder and nearly dropping the phone from his nerveless fingers, he looked up.

"Uh, Juliette? What does this look like to you?" Gus asked, pointing to the lightbox switch he'd just leaned on.

"A – pineapple, Gus that's a pineapple!" Juliet yelled. "drawn in blood," she added more subdued.

"This is an ultraviolet light used for evidence," Gus said flicking the switch on and off with a pen, not wanting to damage possible evidence.

"Wait! Juliet, turn off the lights!"

"Gus, we have to look for Shawn, every second…"

"Just do it!" Gus shouted uncharacteristically. So, Juliet flicked the light off, her hand subconsciously tighter on her gun.

Gus' white shirt and Juliet's white hair clip seemed to glow in the dark. Anything white lit up

"Juliet…" Gus's voice was barely above a whisper. He pointed wordlessly to the glowing letters, B and S on the two drawers in the wall, the rest were unmarked.

Gus commanded himself not to pass out. This was every scary movie he and Shawn had ever watched and now they were starring in it.

Gus opened the drawer marked with an S while Juliet, gun still in hand opened the one marked with a B. Both let out a small scream. Juliet forced herself to look away, checking for dangers before setting her gun down on the autopsy slab and wrenching open Buzz's drawer more fully and placing her fingers on Buzz's neck.

"He's alive," she said shakily, "but not for long if we don't get him some help – Shawn?" She asked Gus.

Gus's chest heaved up and down and he blew out a breath. "Barely here, Juliet. I can barely get a pulse. He's so cold, at first I thought…"

Juliet looked around desperately. Backup was taking its sweet time; she surmised they might have had to go around to the stairs with the elevators not working.

There are sheets in that glass cabinet," Juliet told Gus, springing the shocked man into action. The glass doors to the linen closet were locked.

"Cover Buzz and turn around," Gus said, opening an autoclave and grabbing a shiny, metal hammer that he avoided thinking about its purpose. He broke the glass and grabbed stacks of sheets, shaking the shards loose to tinkle onto the floor where it bit into the rubber of his sneakers and crunched with every frantic step.

Gus padded the porcelain table and helped Juliet heave Buzz out of his drawer and onto the sheets.

Juliet swiped microscopes and beakers from a countertop onto the floor with her arm as Gus threw sheets onto the hard surface. They placed Shawn's limp body on it and quickly covered both men with yet more sheets for all the good it would do. Neither had any body heat to accumulate but anything was better than nothing.

Gus covered the metal head holder on the porcelain autopsy table before gently resting Buzz's head upon it but it still looked very wrong, especially after Gus carefully placed the young officer's arms over his abdomen from where they'd hung listlessly over the edge.

Juliet stuck her head out of the morgue door and spotted the janitor making his way back toward them.

"Elevator's still out," the man called out, but help's on the way. I'll meet them at the other end of the hall by the stairs to guide them here."

Closing the door, Juliet kept her gun by her side, pressing her other hand hard on Buzz's chest as blood blossomed through the fresh sheets that covered him.

"Wait, did he say, the elevator's still out? How would he have known … He said he'd been mopping for hours with his headphones on."

BAM! The door flew open suddenly and the "janitor" threw himself into Juliet's turned back. Juliet flew forward, knocking her head into the porcelain table, the gun clattering to the floor from her blood-covered, slippery fingers. Yin's gun was pressed into the back of Juliette's skull, her face jammed against the cold table.

"Disappointing, you know I'm beginning to think that women aren't cut out for these types of things. My own Yang for instance…"

But if Yin underestimated women, he underestimated Gus more.

"Don't move Y- Yin," Gus sputtered, standing up from his ducked position with Juliette's gun held in both his shaking hands.

Yin laughed.

"Mr. Guster, you are an esteemed pacifist. You wouldn't hurt a –"

But whatever Yin was saying for the next ten seconds fell on deaf ears as Gus relived watching his best friend suffer at the hands of this man, and all the while, suffering more for others, caring less about himself, begging for it please stop.

Yin raised the gun toward Shawn, magisterial confidence in his posture, but he forgot the one thing he'd spent the last thirty years of his life on – balance - Shawn and Gus balanced one another out; Without Gus, Shawn would never have started Psych and put down roots, Without Shawn, Gus would have rooted himself into a corner; sure maybe that would have been a nice corner office as a manager at a pharmaceutical building, but it was still a corner he would have hated and Shawn always made sure that no one ever put Gus in a corner. Gus smiled grimly at that movie quote. And the balance tallies continued in a flood of memories; Gus had steered Shawn toward Juliet despite the achingly slow progress and Shawn had helicoptered, or mini-golfed in to save Gus from leaping into yet another spontaneous marriage with a stranger.

Gus imagined he could smell the sulfurous release as Yin cocked his gun still spitting venom about Shawn.

"You see, Guster, Shawn left you in Ripley's because you've never been able to go the distance. You're a sidekick, a diversion for his superior intellect. I'm an expert on balance and now you will watch your friend die," Yin said, stepping forward and pressing the gun to Shawn's temple.

BANG!

Yin dropped his arm for a split second, turning to Gus as if really seeing him for the first time. Blood blossomed from the left-center of Yin's chest.

"Curious," Yin said quietly, his face a study in incredulity.

Juliet's nose and forehead bled as she got to her feet. Gus's hands were no longer shaking but for a second, it looked as though his mind had left the building.

Yin raised his gun again, this time toward Gus, the surprised look still in his wild eyes. Juliet lunged, sweeping Yin's leg just as Yin pulled the trigger and she rolled onto the bloody man and wrestled the gun from his hands which were already growing cold though he still breathed.

The door burst open.

Lassiter's gun flashed from Yin, who was now disarmed, to Juliet who nodded and showed her boss Yin's gun safely in her hand, to Gus, who stood unmoving, still holding Juliet's gun in his trance-like aim.

"Guster, give the gun to me," Lassiter said as Henry zip-tied Yin's hands together and pulled Juliet to her feet before making his way to his son. Juliet turned her attention back to Buzz through half-dazed vision.

"Gus. Give. Me. The. Gun," Lassiter commanded, his voice sounding more shaken than anyone had heard before.

Gus stared, unblinking at the downed Yin but Juliet's gun still pointed to where Yin had been standing as if his hands hadn't gotten the message that his eyes should have sent moments before.

It was clear to Lassiter's keen mind as he pieced things together based on everyone's position what had happened and damned if balance didn't suck sometimes. Gus had saved Juliet; Juliet had saved Gus.

"Gus, it's okay. It's over. Give me the gun and everything will be okay," Lassiter soothed, growing more frightened by the second as even Henry's voice from the other side of the room failed to elicit any recognition.

"Guster, I order you to put the damn gun down, now!"

Nothing.

Henry felt Shawn draw a pained breath as a tear leaked from his closed eyes.

"G – Gus?" Shawn whispered. "If ya p-put the gun down I'll – give ya a S-scooby snack."

Gus's eyes filled with tears, but his hand stayed rigid. He stole a glance toward the ghost under the sheets. Lassiter moved in behind Gus and wrenched the gun free as he swept Gus's feet out from under him. He tossed the gun to Juliet and quickly assessed Gus for gunshot wounds, letting out a relieved breath upon finding none.

"Tuck your head down toward your knees, Guster and take deep breaths," Lassiter said with more kindness than Juliet would have thought possible.

The pool of blood under Yin grew until Lassiter jerked Gus to his feet to avoid being swamped in it in his sitting position on the floor. Shards of glass fell mostly harmlessly from Gus's jeans as he stood. Yin did not cry out or beg for mercy or seem to suffer as no one wanted to admit, would have been poetic justice for all the pain and suffering he was causing. His last breath was quiet, his eyes fixed on Shawn in wonder and he died with a puzzled look on his face.

Perhaps that was all the justice they would get; The fact that Yin never understood balance though he'd spent his life trying to control it.

XXXXXX

L.A.P.D. finally stormed the dungeon, weapons drawn and shouting orders that were all too unnecessary.

Lassiter grabbed Gus and dragged him into the hallway. The smell of formaldehyde and the loudly barked orders had done nothing to wake Gus from his stupor.

"Guster, listen to me." When Gus didn't respond, Lassiter slapped him in the face, eliciting little response save for Gus's watering eyes riveting to focus somewhat on his face as if reading his lips instead of hearing him.

"I want you to go upstairs, get that nice nurse to give you a pair of scrubs like she did for us. You need to shower thoroughly. You need to lose your clothing; do you hear me?"

"I – I – killed someone, Lassie," Gus mouthed barely above a whisper sounding very broken.

"Gus, you have the right to remain silent, remain silent. Please. Do I make myself clear?" Lassiter said, trying to get through to the distraught man.

Yin had been right about one thing. Gus was a pacifist, he may have appeared soft, but when push came to shove, he'd saved people and Lassiter knew it was going to be at a great cost.

Lassiter summoned Juliet to the hallway once a stream of doctors and nurses had filled the room.

"O'Hara, I'm going to take Guster here upstairs, he's in shock from witnessing a police shooting and an assault on his best friends. Is that good with you?"

"More than good, boss. And Carlton, I think you may be going soft in your old age," Juliet told Lassiter as she wiped her gun clean of Gus' fingerprints.

Gus's pupils were huge, his breaths ragged. Lassiter marched him up two flights of stairs to the emergency ward and found the same nurse who'd been so kind to him and Juliet. Lassiter shoved Gus into the shower room and stood outside. He wasn't surprised to hear the occasional gasp of grief. Gus appeared twenty minutes later looking flushed from the warm water. Lassiter tied Gus's clothing into a bag.

Lassiter sat Gus down and spoke quietly to the nurse who took Gus into an examination room to be assessed for shock. She wrapped a warmed blanket around Gus's shaking shoulders.

"He's dehydrated and in shock, I'll have a doctor take a look," the nurse confirmed.

Lassiter realized that everyone had been existing on coffee and adrenaline for two days. No wonder.

The doctor prescribed an IV with some sedatives. Whenever Gus mumbled, Lassiter shushed him. He spoke whenever he and Gus were alone.

"Lassie?" Gus whispered. "'M gonna be sick."

And Lassiter wondered where the hell the nurse was as he picked up an emesis basin and handed it to Gus, sitting the trembling man up and rubbing small circles on his back as he wretched.

"We will never speak of this," Lassiter ordered. "Or what happened downstairs. Ever."

"But – what about – Juliet?" Gus gasped between wretches that made Carlton wretch with him.

"Trust me, Juliet is one of the finest officers I know, and she knows her way around paperwork. Yin attacked us; she did her job. As a civilian, Gus, you're going to have to relive this over and over again, but instead of coming to terms on your own, you will be forced to do it in front of cops, a judge, maybe Yin's family if he has any that would show for a trial, his victim's families … Gus, Juliet was a victim of Yin's too. If she thought that you were going to be put through the wringer because of Yin, she's going to blame herself for not being able to protect you – and the truth is, in civilian shootings, lawyers get a hold of things and it could be made to look like there were other options than lethal force. Lawyers love that these days. Yin has tormented this department and citizens for too long, if he gets to do it through the justice system, his reign of terror never ends. With a police shooting, there will be questions but fewer options for extraneous scrutiny. Hell, for all we know, Yin could have orchestrated even this, some sort of suicide by cop because he knew that he chose the wrong foe. He was cunning, he would know that with you as the shooter, a jury could possibly put you away for revenge shooting, vigilantism – his loss of life for your loss of freedom - balance."

Gus closed his eyes, remembering the sound of Juliet's head impacting with the porcelain table as she fought Yang, Shawn completely defenseless to the raised gun.

"Everything Yin did was calculated," Gus agreed tiredly, his voice slightly slurred from the drugs. Mr. Spenser said that there are officers who are still damaged from run-ins with Yin and Yang. He was always one step ahead."

"So it stands to reason that he could have made plans beyond his demise, to puppeteer from the grave for some sick legacy. We can't help him do that, Guster. A police shooting will hold more water in the inquiries. Yin needs to be stopped, even now.

Gus looked at Lassiter. The man had never once advocated for coverups The truth meant more to him that anyone Gus knew, so it must mean something that here he was, not only trying to protect him and his partner but laying out the sad truth, that the only way to truly stop Yin, even in death, was to make a clear-cut sequence of events from a professional, law enforcement standpoint so that some money-grubbing lawyer or do-gooder couldn't spin things so that Yin would look like a victim, a poor, sick individual who should have been brought in peacefully and deemed not guilty by reason of insanity, not shot by a vigilante.

"Did – you see them, Lassie?" Gus sobbed openly now, the sedative loosening the knotted muscles on his forearms and smoothing his forehead from its scrunched-up stress wrinkles. "They looked like they belonged – there – in those drawers."

"And they'd still be there if not for you and Juliet and how many others would Yin have taken? I'm gonna check on my partner and Henry and get some information on our wayward detectives, okay? Get some rest and Gus, remain silent."

Lassiter patted Gus on the shoulder and watched as Gus's head lolled to the side in fitful sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Henry's legs shook as his son and Buzz were carried upstairs. It made more sense than taking the long way around to the other bank of elevators when the emergency ward was directly above them.

Once again both men disappeared into separate trauma rooms as Juliet led Henry to the waiting room to find her boss. She found Lassiter and was relieved to see Chief Vick who'd arrived, still clutching an overnight bag in her arms.

"O'Hara are you okay?" Vick said, looking her detective over from head to toe. "This can't have been easy on any of you."

Juliet sat down heavily. The man who'd dangled her on a clock tower to die was dead and she was more than willing to save Gus and the reputation of her department from the media spotlight and investigations that would ruin them emotionally. She would have reports to fill out, debriefings to attend, mandatory psychiatrist screenings and court hearings but a world without Yin made all that worth it.

"I'm good, Chief," Juliet said quietly.

"Lassiter, sit down before you fall down," Vick said.

Henry stood beside the chairs McNabb's parents occupied talking quietly to them. McNabb had been taken directly to surgery to close some internal stitches that had opened, The last Henry had seen of the young constable was when a doctor had re-intubated him while yelling orders for blood transfusions and warming measures.

XXXXXXXXX

Thanks for reading. Lots more to come.