Gus looked out the window of Lassiter's car, watching the storefronts pass by them as he fidgeted with his work phone. It had been recovered by the police from the club, and he'd checked his messages immediately after it had been returned to him. He'd been disgruntled to find two missed calls from clients. And ten missed calls from Henry.
Gus was a good friend -a great friend- but he wasn't a saint. There was no way in hell he was going to field that call for Shawn.
He sighed and slipped his flip phone back in his pocket, realizing he still needed to rescue his regular one from Henry's truck. Maybe it was worth just buying a new one if it would keep him away from Henry's wrath for a few more days…
He knew he was being ridiculous, but it had been a long day. All he wanted to do was crawl under his blankets and fall asleep.
He wondered if he'd be able to sleep without dreaming, now that the case was done. He doubted it; between being kidnapped again, seeing Juliet be hurt, and watching Shawn stare down a gun, Gus could feel the memories stalking in the back of his mind, just waiting to be unleashed with the flames.
A strangled yelp played through his memory, and he fought back a jolt of guilt. Maybe he shouldn't be hoping for dreamless sleep. If he'd paid more attention to his nightmares earlier, maybe he would've been able to keep Juliet safe.
He looked at Lassiter out of the corner of his eye; Juliet hadn't been the only one he'd dreamt about. He remembered holes in his chest and half of his body becoming dead weight. If there was even a chance that he could change it, then he needed to try.
He thought quickly as they drove down the road, trying to figure out if there had been anything different that he'd done to trigger Juliet's dreams in the last few days. He hadn't even been in the same building as her when he'd fallen asleep, which ruined the one pattern he'd thought he'd figured out, but he had psychically read her shortly before each dream…
"Gus, we're here."
Gus blinked at Lassiter's quiet words and looked around, seeing his small blue car sitting in front of the building that seemed to mock him with its cheerful green letters. He looked back and took in Lassiter's tired eyes that were still scanning the street, his shifting grip on the steering wheel, his steady thrumming thoughts.
He had to try.
Gus focused on the spiking smell of gunpowder as he reached for the door handle: Exhaustion, Juliet shaking, a pile of paperwork, burn marks on Juliet's skin, a phone number to the hospital, Novikov's head exploding with red jewels of blood glinting in the purple light as they sprayed through the air…
Gus quickly pulled back his focus and swallowed heavily. In retrospect, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting. Hoping it was enough, Gus climbed out of the car and turned around to say, "Thanks for the ride."
"You're welcome," Lassiter answered distractedly, his fingers twitching as if pulling a trigger repeatedly.
Gus hesitated before adding, "She's going to be ok."
"Of course she will be," Lassiter said with a snort that somehow managed to sound protective. He glanced over and his chest reverb smoothed out as he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Goodnight, Guster."
"Night, Lassie."
Lassiter pulled his car away and Gus dug into his pocket for his keys as he turned to the Blueberry. He hesitated and looked towards their office, wondering if there was a time limit for falling asleep to dream about the future. He replayed his last thought again and shook his head in bewilderment at how weird his life had become as he chose a different key and walked up to unlock the door to Psych.
He let himself into their office and locked the door behind him before making his way to the back room and the cot that was set up for the nights Shawn never went home. Gus sniffed the air over the sheets experimentally and was pleasantly surprised at the clean scent; apparently having a steady girlfriend was good for Shawn's sleeping habits. And his hygiene.
Gus kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers, wishing he had a sound machine, or at least a water bottle, nearby for when he woke up. He let out a breath and closed his eyes, trying to keep his mind on the smell of gunpowder and the reverb from a cannon as he fell asleep.
Gus tried to look around, but his world was shrouded in darkness. He could feel the vibrations of a vehicle in motion, his head hurt, his hands were bound… He listened out, trying to hear any thoughts around him, hoping to hear ponging balls or a cresting wave. He was met with silence and he shuddered as the car turned, taking him to the unknown. He was alone.
He tried to focus on his other senses. His fingertips felt rough grains of wood, his wrists felt thick plastic straps, he smelled blood filtering through a musty cloth. He heard wheels crunching on gravel, a distant giggle, the quiet crackling of fire.
A laptop pinging.
He blinked and the inside of the dark bag was replaced by the insides of a limo, complete with a laptop sitting on the front bench. Gus' eyes slid up from the laptop and he saw the back of the driver's head; he barely took in the crazy blond hair before quickly looking away again. If he didn't see him, then he wasn't there.
"Hello, Burton, I'm so glad you've decided to work with me. Together we can change the world!"
Gus' attention snapped back to the laptop screen and the small woman with round glasses staring obsessively through it at him. He instinctively tried to pull away, but the zip ties around his wrists held him to the wooden chair. He looked around, hoping to find a way out.
"I understand you have even more abilities to study than we previously thought, how exciting! Think of how much better the world could be with more people who could read our future. Don't worry, we'll get you all figured out."
Smoke obscured the view out of the windows and orange light flickered behind it. A shadow of a tree passed by, and a hole of visibility opened up, showing a woman with blonde hair and a bright pink shirt laying on the ground, her lifeless limbs still twitching from residual electricity.
Gus looked forward frantically and tried to tell Rhianna that they needed to turn around, they needed to go back; they could still save Juliet. Duct tape covered his mouth and no sound came out.
Rhianna looked at him with pitiless eyes. "You don't get to go back; you can only go forward. This is who you are now," the driver's voice came out of her mouth, "why do you think you get a choice?"
Gus pulled harder at his restraints; he had to get out. Wherever the car was taking him, it could only lead to pain and suffering. His eyes were drawn to the windows as he fought.
The smoke grew thicker, the flames grew louder, but more and more spots were opening up for him to see through. The tattered shreds of a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt hung from a tree, a high heel laid broken on the ground, a spent gun slowly sunk into the mud.
Gus' lungs gurgled as he breathed and he tasted tangy iron as blood filled his mouth, locked in by the tape gag. His chest burst into pain and he looked down, his eyes tracking the red fluid flowing from the holes next to his tie and dripping over his chief badge. He looked back up, seeing a shadowy figure outside the limo window, and he tried to plead with his eyes as he started to choke. The figure raised his arm, and a loud bang sounded through the burning woods.
A condescending voice continued to speak through the darkness. "You are standing on the shoulders of giants, and you want to continue to play make-believe. What gives you the right? You could be the key to a better life. For everyone."
Gus opened his eyes and gasped for breath, glancing down and taking in the lack of a tie, jacket, or bullet holes in his chest. The car stopped, and the smoke cleared, showing a basement with a pile of bodies discarded in the corner, and a lonely figure in a green plaid shirt sitting strapped to a chair. The door to the limo opened and the driver peered in with a smile that showed too many teeth. He beckoned and Gus trembled as the limo disappeared around him, leaving him in the clutches of a mad man.
He looked over to check on Shawn and his heart stopped as he saw the deep bruises on the inside of his friend's elbow. He stared at Shawn's motionless chest and tried to call out, but the sound was still locked behind his gag. He realized he still couldn't hear any ponging balls.
Dahmer walked over to Shawn's body and tutted in disappointment before meeting Gus' eyes. "This is what you chose, you know."
He reached out to pet Shawn's hair and a scream finally broke through Gus' gag as flames rushed through the room.
Gus woke to a lingering scream and he flailed out, reaching for his side table and the phone that was always there. His hand only found air and he looked around frantically as his breathing became more erratic.
He wasn't in his bed, he wasn't surrounded by his walls, he didn't know where he was. Fire seared under his skin as he fought his way out from under the covers and scrambled across the unfamiliar room to press himself into the corner, making himself as small as possible.
Something clunked next to him and he jumped, his hand instinctively reaching out to feel for the new threat. His fingers curled around the familiar shape of a flip phone and his surprise jolted him far enough out of his panic to suddenly recognize the back room of Psych.
Shakes ran through his body as he laid his head back against the wall and tried to control his breathing. It had just been a dream, everyone was safe, they'd beat the latest bad guy, everyone was safe…
The image of Shawn's too-still body flashed in front of his eyes and Gus was dialing his phone before he even realized he'd made a decision. He lifted it to his ear and held his breath as the phone on the other end rang.
"... 'ey Gus, 'azzup?" Shawn answered, his voice slurred like he was still partially asleep.
Gus immediately felt like the world's biggest idiot as he realized Shawn had been at the hospital all night and needed as much rest as he could get. He tried to keep his shaking out of his voice as he said, "Hey, man. Sorry to wake you, go back to bed."
Apparently, he hadn't been completely successful, as Shawn sounded much more alert when he asked, "Something happen? Bad dream?"
"Yeah, dream. But don't worry about it, I just…"
-needed to hear your voice. -needed to make sure you weren't dead. -needed to make sure it was actually a dream. The words caught in Gus' throat and he couldn't complete the sentence. He shook his head and moved on. "How's Juliet doing?"
"They're gonna keep her for a day 'for observation' but the doc said everything looks fine."
"That's good to hear," Gus said with a small, relieved sigh. "Sorry, again, about waking you up."
"It's fine," Shawn reassured him, his voice warping as if he was talking through a yawn. "Someone probably was gonna come in soon anyways, it's a whole revolving door…"
Gus' lips twitched as he tried to smile sympathetically. "Yeah, that's hospitals for you. Tell Juliet I'm glad she's feeling alright; I'll drop by later today to visit."
"Will do. But, uh…" Shawn's voice turned uncertain, "can you drop by my place first? I'm going home when Lassie gets here and- Well, the thing is… Jules was asking some questions and I-" He made a frustrated sound. "Look, I just need to talk to you, ok? And not over the phone."
"Yeah, sure," Gus said as worry started to gnaw at his gut. "I was hoping to get into the office for a few hours, but I can push that back-"
"Nah, after work's fine. I need my beauty sleep. This hair doesn't just happen, you know."
Gus snorted and rolled his eyes, feeling more like his usual self. He ran his hand over his buzzed hair as he said, "Yeah, I know all about making hair happen."
"Oh, don't even. You oil your scalp all the time."
Gus smirked. "You just wish you could look this good without trying."
"Yeah, yeah…" Shawn's voice was fond and Gus could easily imagine his smirk and eye roll. "Jules is starting to wake up, I gotta go."
"I'll see you later," Gus said before hanging up. He let out a breath and relaxed into the wall, feeling the residual burning from the dream slowly bleed away. He felt bad about waking Shawn, but he knew the short conversation had settled his nightmare jitters better than anything else would have been able to.
He held a hand out, watching its slight tremble, and tried to relax further. It had just been a dream, everyone was fine, they got out, they were safe. The dirt caked in his cuticles caught his attention and Gus pushed himself up to standing with a groan. He was filthy, he was thirsty, and the sun was already starting to shine through the windows. It was time to start another day.
Gus' dream continued to haunt him as he drove home, showered, and changed into work clothes. The way Juliet's hands had unnaturally flopped, the way Lassiter's tie had been skewed off-center, the way Shawn's head had hung too low. His hands shook as he poured his coffee and he waited until the mug was empty before finally looking closer at the nightmare.
He was relieved to find that the only part that felt different was the gunshots to his- to Lassiter's chest, and he immediately shook his head at himself for being a terrible person. But he also took comfort in the badge from the dream that showed the shooting wasn't until much later in the future. He still had time to figure out how to keep it from happening.
If he could keep it from happening.
Gus growled quietly and stalked over to his couch to grab his book about psychics; it was time to do some more research.
Twenty minutes and two cups of coffee later, Gus threw the book down on the table in defeat. He was partially convinced that the author wrote the book just to torment him and offer only enough information to make him want to buy more of their works. He glanced at the cover and wondered if "Cleo Mystique" was a penname for Jade, and she'd given him the useless book on purpose to get more of his business.
The idea burrowed into his brain as he left his apartment and climbed into the Blueberry. Jade knew about psychics, she knew about foresight, she'd read him… and she'd said nothing useful. His mood soured as he pulled the gear shift down harder than necessary. She'd been inside his mind, she'd seen his dream, she'd known just how much he didn't know…
He glanced at the clock and decided the office could wait a little longer. He had a psychic to talk to.
Gus' mood was still dark as he parked his cheerful little car, and walked up to the shop with the cheerful little name, and heard cheerful little bells play as the door opened before he reached it. He walked past Jade and waited until he heard her close the door again before spinning around and demanding, "Did you know?"
"Did I know what?" Jade asked evenly.
Gus narrowed his eyes and thought as loud as he could about seeing the future in his dreams.
Jade raised an eyebrow and calmly told him, "Just so you know, that's considered rude in our community. It's like yelling across the room when you're face-to-face."
"I don't care," Gus snapped back. "Did you know?"
"No, I didn't," Jade answered, the light from her crystal ball thoughts glowing steadily.
Gus blinked in surprise, but he wasn't ready to let go of his anger yet. "You were in my mind, how did you not know?"
Jade let out a small sigh. "If you saw the color purple for the first time, would you automatically know that it contained the color red?"
Gus replayed the words in his mind before shaking his head in frustration. "What?"
"Your mind is different," Jade reminded him gently. She thought for a moment, as though trying to find the right words. "Normally, our senses -psychic and non-psychic- are like jars of paints, separate and distinct, but used together to make a full picture. Your mind is like someone took all of those jars and dumped them together into one bowl. It's… difficult to see what colors you started with."
"Great… so I'm broken," Gus muttered as he crossed his arms and looked away. His gaze caught on a smaller crystal ball sitting on the counter and his distorted reflection stared back.
"You're different," Jade corrected. "Different isn't bad. Besides, purple's my favorite color."
Gus looked back at her and took in the dark purple shawl around her shoulders as she smirked slightly. He sighed and all of his anger seemed to leave with his breath, leaving him empty and lost in its wake. "So you can't help me."
He could feel glass under his hand shifting as the light in the crystal ball glowed warmer. Jade studied him carefully before asking briskly, "Would you like some tea?"
Gus scrunched his eyebrows together as he processed her question before asking in a grumble, "You going to read my leaves or something?"
"You may be different, but in many ways we're still the same," Jade said as she walked by him. Her fingers trailed over a stack of tarot cards as she looked back with an amused look in her eyes. "Objects and gestures can have associations, and those associations can help us focus our abilities." Her smile grew as Gus realized he was unconsciously running his thumb over his bracelet. "But, for me, tea is just tea. And caffeine. Come, I think I have some Earl Gray."
Curiosity tugged at him, and Gus followed as he wondered if she'd read Earl Gray from his thoughts, if she was making a Patrick Stewart joke, or if she just really liked the tea.
She called back to him as she answered, "Picard made me start drinking it, but I do actually like it."
He made a face and thought loudly about how weird it was when someone other than Shawn knew what he was thinking.
He heard a laugh mixed with the sound of running water as he entered her back room. He looked around, surprised at how normal it looked with unpacked boxes tucked around a small table and chairs, a leather jacket hanging from a hook next to the back door, and a tiny kitchen counter with just enough room for a sink and the electric tea kettle Jade was turning on.
She nodded to the table as she said, "Make yourself comfortable, this'll take a minute to heat up."
Gus sat down and watched as she pulled out a box of tea and rinsed a couple of cups before moving to sit across from him. The light from her thoughts shined brightly as she said, "You have questions, I'll do the best I can to answer them."
Gus chewed his lip as he thought before finally asking, "Can the future be changed?"
"You already know that answer," Jade pointed out. "Your first dream was changed, was it not?"
"Exactly how much of my thoughts can you hear?" Gus asked as he crossed his arms defensively.
"You think very loudly," Jade informed him wryly. Gus focused on his shield and tried to strengthen it, even though he knew it would probably make the conversation go faster if he just let Jade read him. Her lips twitched and he knew she could sense what he was doing, but she only said, "Your… 'broadcast' a few minutes ago showed me what you understand about your dreams now."
Gus nodded, slightly mollified, and said, "So, the future's not set. I can change things."
"Life is a set of choices; actions and consequences. If one of those actions is changed, then the consequence will also be changed," Jade answered.
"You could have just said 'yes'," Gus grumbled.
"I could have," Jade agreed, "but the 'why' is the more important question that you didn't ask."
The tea kettle went off and Gus digested her words as she stood up. He was glad to know that he'd been right about his first dream and that things could be changed, but he still didn't want to see the people he cared about being hurt or dying anytime he slept. Goosebumps prickled across his skin as he thought about the dream from that morning, and he could almost feel the flames rushing through him as he remembered the visual of Shawn dead in the chair.
Jade set a cup in front of him and he wrapped his fingers around it, focusing on the warmth against his palms instead of the phantom heat under his skin. He asked his next question quietly, not sure if he was even looking for a real answer. "Why does it have to hurt?"
There was a moment of heavy silence before Jade answered gently, "You aren't the first psychic to ask that, and I'm sure you won't be the last. Unfortunately, with how different your mind is, I think things might be even more vivid for you. I wish I could help or give you a cure, but that's beyond my ability." She hesitated before slowly adding, "Trauma can leave distinctive marks on some people. Yours is so tied up with your psychic abilities, it's hard to distinguish. But I can still feel it. Over time, trauma can heal. Or it can fester." She sighed and ran a finger over the rim of her cup. "I… don't know for certain, but I'd hazard a guess that dealing with what happened to you will also help with the dreams."
"... I have no idea how to do that," Gus admitted as he continued to watch the tea swirl in his cup.
"From what I've been able to see, you're already doing it," Jade told him, smiling slightly when he looked up at her in surprise. "You're acknowledging it, you're learning how to work through it, and you're not keeping it locked in. I'm no therapist, but it seems to me like you're on the right track."
Gus squirmed slightly, not knowing what he was supposed to think or feel at her words. He finally shrugged and said, "I wish it would hurry up…"
"Don't we all," Jade agreed with a sigh. She held out a spoon and asked, "Need honey?"
Gus shook his head and took the spoon, stirring the tea in before taking a sip as he thought about what to ask next. Jade watched him carefully before laying her hand on the table, palm up. "If I may? I think I can answer a few of those in one go."
Gus barely hesitated before reaching out and taking her hand. Light poured into his mind, twisting and turning until a visual started to form of a tangled knot of threads. The visual grew until he could see individual strands intertwining, splitting, and fraying. One thread glowed light purple and ran through the center of the tangle, gray strands branching off from it in several directions whenever it changed its course. He focused slightly and could hear tap dancers in the distance all along the thread.
He found himself inexplicably drawn to the largest tangle near the end of the strand, where multiple gray threads split off and twisted together; some ending abruptly while others went on until they faded into the distance. His focus was pulled forward, as though a void was calling him, and he smelled blood, felt a knife on his skin, heard fingernails on glass. His focus jumped across to a branching gray line and he heard screams in the night, felt something wrapped around his neck, tasted bile filling his mouth. The sensations grew weaker down the thread until they faded into the darkness of the unknown.
Jade's light brightened and the pull became easier to resist as most of the gray lines faded away. She pinged a brief apology before directing him back to the threads that were left. He looked and saw threads of color interweaving with his purple line. Bright green, vibrant pink, deep blue, tropical red; each with their own sensations when he focused in on them: Sounds, visuals, smells, and touch. The threads came and went, darting through his purple before disappearing into the dark, only to come back and weave through his life again. Any time his thread changed its course, there were other threads pulling and twisting around it, guiding it on its path.
There were other colors too, in the course changes; some feeling familiar while others set his teeth on edge. The large tangle near the end had a dark black thread pulling along a sickly white one, and they wrapped around the purple and green lines, constricting them and forcing them down a new path before the other colors came to protect and guide them into their new normal. He tried focusing on the blue thread and the smell of gunpowder coming from it as it disappeared into the darkness again, smelling the antiseptics of a hospital, feeling the weight of a gun in his hand, hearing a loud hum with clicks. But the further away it reached from his thread, the less he could sense.
The light pinged a question and he sent one back in understanding. The visual faded as his mind darkened, and he opened his eyes.
Jade let go of his hand and sipped her tea patiently as she waited for Gus to process what she'd shown him. He realized she had answered several of his questions, like why he only dreamed about certain people, and why some future dreams had more details than others. But her explanation did bring up a new question.
"So… we live in the multiverse?"
Jade laughed into her cup before setting it down as she answered, "As I said, actions have consequences, both on our lives and on others. If an action is changed, the results are changed as well. Whether the original consequences still exist in an alternate life… no one knows for certain."
Gus thought about the branching gray lines and how some of them had ended far too soon while others had stretched into the future. The clinking of a spoon in a cup drew his attention back to Jade and she smiled gently at him. "This universe gives us plenty to cope with already, try not to worry about the other ones as well."
Gus nodded before taking a drink, appreciating the warmth that spread through his body. He focused on the comfortable bubble of safety around him as he processed all of the information Jade had given him. He knew there were more questions to ask, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to take in any more answers.
The sound of bells from the front drew both of their attention and Gus could smell marigolds twisting in sadness. Jade sighed and shook out her skirts as she stood up while muttering under her breath, "I told him that date was a bad idea…"
She smiled gently at Gus and gestured towards the still-warm kettle. "Feel free to stay and enjoy the tea as long as you want, let yourself out the back when you're done. I'm probably going to be up there for a bit…"
"Thanks," Gus said with a grateful nod.
Jade nodded back and turned to leave the room before looking back. "I know you didn't get a chance to ask it, so I'll ask you a question to think about instead. Your friend has abilities, even if they aren't the ones he claims to have. Do you think he has a responsibility to others because of it?"
Gus stared at her in shock, and she smirked slightly before leaving the room to talk to the sad man in the shop. "Good morning Daryll, I take it that good luck charm didn't work as well as you were hoping?"
Gus thought about her question as he finished his tea, and he still didn't have an answer when he stood up, rinsed out his cup, and walked to the door. He looked back and tried to visualize his thankfulness towards the crystal ball he could still see and feel. The light in the ball brightened in acknowledgement and he smiled as he left the shop.
Gus' mind was still a muddled mess as he drove to Shawn's place. He had managed to get in several hours of productive work, but he knew he couldn't ignore his thoughts forever. Guilt mixed with fear and relief, and he wasn't sure where any of the emotions were coming from as he tried to focus on the road ahead of him. Worry was added to the mix when he remembered Shawn's uncertain tone when he'd said they'd needed to talk.
He turned down the last street and reassured himself that the conversation couldn't be too bad if Shawn had been willing to push it off until later in the day. A pang of nervousness cut through the thought, and Gus shook his head in annoyance as he tried to shove everything down; he needed a clear head to help Shawn through whatever was going on. He could deal with his own stuff later.
The old Fluff n' Fold came into view and all of his thoughts suddenly went blank. He jerked the steering wheel to the side and screeched into a parking spot before running up the sidewalk and frantically yelling through the large, shattered window.
"Shawn!"