Sorry - slowly moving back into the adventure but I can't rush poor Shawn. Hope you are enjoying and reviews greatly appreciated!

He was slowly going insane. He'd known it for a while but now it was worse. He could have called for help, but some small part of him, some smidgeon of the old Shawn, refused to give in, refused to let people see him as he now was. He could handle this – he could.

Except he was slowly going insane! He quickly searched – unfortunately with his eyes only – to see if there was something, anything he could use to help him. Why didn't his Dad have a few sticks lying around just in case?

He groaned. When the hell was it going to stop? He couldn't take it anymore. In final desperation he moved – incredibly stiffly – on the couch until his back rested up against the arm. He then proceeded to rub himself up and down.

"Ah god ye - es", he moaned. It felt so good."

"Shawn!" The Enforcer hurried into the living room and stopped about him, a look of determination on his face. "Stop that! You don't want to get an infection."

Shawn stopped. He was being an idiot again. No wonder his father was disappointed in him. He could never do anything right – even heal. "Sorry", he muttered.

Henry sighed. "It's okay kid. Look, I know it itches but you have to let it heal. If you want I'll get an ice pack – that should help."

"It's okay", Shawn said quietly. He hated having to ask everyone – especially his father – for constant help. He couldn't even push himself in the wheelchair as his hands and arms were still injured. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are!" Henry said angrily. He stood and practically stomped to the Refrigerator. Opening the freezer door he grabbed an ice pack and stomped back over to Shawn. "Lean forward."

On a good day Shawn would have argued – not because he didn't want the ice pack, but because that's what he did. He and his father had an established rhythm: Henry would tell him what to do and he'd argue. It didn't matter if what Henry said was right or wrong – it was Shawn's duty, as his only son, to whine, object, disagree and just plain refuse to do what his father wanted.

That had changed. He'd finally realized that he was being childish and immature. His father did know some things and he was a fool for ignoring them just because his father was the one to say them.

"Ahhh", he groaned, but this time in relief. The ice instantly soothed the almost constant itch of the healing wounds – wounds he'd done everything in his power to ignore.

"Dad?" he asked softly – hesitatingly.

"Yeah?" His father moved the pack slightly, hitting another itchy spot. "What is it Shawn."

"Uh", his voice dropped off and he closed his eyes. No – he didn't want to know.

"Shawn? What?"

Damn – there it was again, that little voice in his head, telling him to grow up, to be a man. He sighed. "What – what does it say?"

He'd been afraid to ask – he didn't want to know, although deep down he was pretty sure he had an idea. Still, he never had to see it, and he didn't take his shirt off in front of strangers so who would know.

You would, that damned little voice said. So just get it over with. It's better knowing.

It was only then, as he finally convinced himself that he realized the silence had gone on too long. That wasn't like Henry. "Dad?"

"Sorry", his father murmured softly, moving the ice pack. "This help?"

"Uh – yeah but – Dad? Why are you telling me?"

He heard his father's deep sigh and could feel him move slightly – probably trying to get up the courage to tell him. "It's not really -"

"Don't lie", he told his father softly. "Just tell me."

"Okay – but I want you to remember that this was done by a crazy man – and it means nothing." Henry removed the ice pack and there was a pause. "It says 'Cheat' and 'Liar'."

Sean had known it. He'd heard it enough from Bill so wasn't surprised. "It's the truth", he said after a few seconds. "That's what I am." Yes he'd known what it said, and he'd also known that he deserved to have those words branded – or in reality carved – into his skin. He was permanently marked by words which declared the truth. He was Shawn Spencer, cheat and liar."

"Like hell you are!" Henry said angrily, standing up and walking in front of him. "Don't you dare let that, that bastard convince you of his lies. These words mean nothing – nothing at all – and the plastic surgeon said he could get rid of them for you. There might still be a scar but the words will be gone. Shawn you are not a liar or a cheat."

He couldn't look at his father, although he appreciated the defense. The fact was the words were true, no matter how loudly Henry shouted. He knew it – Henry knew it – and it was a fact.

"Psych?" he finally whispered.

"What about it? It's your job and it's waiting for you when you get better."

"But it's a lie", he said, still speaking softly and still not looking up at his father.

There was another short pause and then he could feel his father sit on the couch next to him, the sharp dip of the couch causing his body to shift and his ribs to ache. He didn't say anything about it – having decided to no longer complain about anything.

"Look at me Shawn", the man who had raised him, the man who had taught him that honesty and being a good, upstanding citizen was everything, spoke firmly but gently. "Come on." After a second Shawn complied.

"I want you to tell me how many cases you've solved since you started Psych. How many Shawn?"

"Uh", he shrugged. "I don't know."

His father snorted. "Don't give me that crap. If there's anything I know about you is that you remember details like that. In fact I'm sure you remember every single client, every clue, every conviction, every case that you've had. Now come on, how many?"

"Fifty-four", he finally whispered, "although Gus claims it's only fifty-three. He says we really didn't solve that case of the murdered mime, although I still think we did. I was the one who found the white make-up on the body. Can I help it if he confessed before I had a chance to tell the police? And anyway, he didn't tell them he did it – he mimed it, so that doesn't count!"

Henry couldn't help but smile at hearing the old Shawn, just for a moment. "Well, whether it's fifty-four or fifty-three -"

"Four!"

"Fine – but what I'm trying to say is that you have solved a helluva lot of cases Shawn – cases the cops had trouble solving. That's an incredible record and one you should be proud of. Psych is a good thing and don't you let some – some criminal convince you otherwise."

Shawn stared at his father. "Who are you and what did you do with Henry?" he finally asked. "Dad – you've been bugging me about lying about being Psychic for years and you're told me I should get a real job. Now you're telling me that I should be proud and that Psych is a real job?"

Henry sighed and rubbed the top of his head. "Look Shawn – do I always agree with everything you do? No. I didn't like you starting your business based on a l – ur untruth -"

"Lie", Shawn corrected him.

"Fine – on a lie – but I can understand why you did it – and it doesn't make you a liar and a cheat."

"Okay Dad – not seeing the difference here. I lied – that makes me a liar."

"Shawn – when your Mom and I were still married she'd often ask me if a certain dress of top made her look fat. You can bet that no matter what the truth – in fact she had this one green dress that made her look like a giant lima bean – anyway, you can bet that I told her no. Sometimes that was a lie – but it didn't make me a liar."

"No? What would you call yourself then?"

"A diplomat – and a very smart husband."

Shawn leaned back, suddenly feeling tired and unsure of what was going on. He felt like his world had flipped and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. His Dad – usually his biggest critic – was suddenly defending him again - him.

"And you're definitely not a cheat", the older Spencer snorted. "You have never cheated a client or the SBPD. You have done what they've asked – okay, in unorthodox ways I grant you – but you deliver. That is not cheating. And as for the scars- they don't mean anything other than the fact that you were kidnapped and hurt by an insane man – it has nothing to do who you are."

Rather than answering his father – who he didn't believe – he placed his head on the cushion and closed his eyes. "I think I'm gonna sleep now", he said. "I'm really tired."

Henry stayed and watched his son until his breathing had evened out and he was asleep. With that he stood stiffly and made his way to the kitchen. He didn't know what to do to help his son but he knew he had to do something. Shawn was in trouble and needed help. He glanced at the clock. Maddie, where are you? I really need you."

It seemed to help Shawn when his mother arrived. He perked up and seemed willing and able to talk and actually to eat a full mean. Unfortunately, that only lasted for the first day and then he began to retreat to his quiet, yet cooperative persona. In other words, the real Shawn disappeared once more.

"I just don't know what to do Maddie", he said as they walked along the beach. "He's just so damned – agreeable and cooperative and he doesn't argue or complain or whine or – hell, he's not Shawn anymore."

"He went through a lot Henry", his ex-wife reached out and linked her arm through his. "I know it's hard – I hate seeing him like this too – but it's not really surprising, is it?"

"Yes God damn it – it is! I've seen Shawn go through all sorts of things – hell, he was shot last year – and he always bounced back. Within days – hell, within hours – he was back to driving everyone crazy. Now – I think someone came and switched him for someone else that only looks like Shawn."

Maddie stopped, forcing him to stop as well. She looked for a few moments out to the ocean. "I still miss this", she said softly.

Henry almost made some snarky comment, but knew it wouldn't be fair and stopped himself. He was upset over Shawn and the last thing he wanted, or needed to do, was take it out on Madeleine.

She turned to him at that point and her lips turned up in a small smile. "Thank you", she said.

"What for?"

"For not making a sarcastic comment when I said that. I know you wanted to – and yes, I deserve some of it – but I think we both know that this has to be about Shawn so – thank you."

"You're welcome", he squeezed her arm with his hand. "So, what are we going to do?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

"But – you're a psychologist. You must know."

"Henry, it isn't an exact science – and anyway, I'm too close to it. Shawn is my son and it's a little hard to maintain a clinical distance when I hurt for him. I guess we just – love him and be here for him."

Henry sighed in frustration. "That's what I've been doing and it doesn't seem to have accomplished much. It's a good thing you're here though – he's much happier to have you than me around."

"What?" she turned towards him, pulling her arm away. "What did you say?"

"Just that you and Shawn – well, he doesn't get angry with you like he does with me. I know he feels better having you to watch out for him."

"Henry, you're a fool!" she said, moving away from him until she was again facing the water. "Shawn loves me – I have no doubt of that, and I love him. But you're the one he relies on, not me."

"Now you're the one being foolish", he told her. "He argues constantly with me. I don't think we can go for more than a few minutes without me getting mad or him shouting at me. But I don't think I've ever seen him be that way with you."

She was silent, biting her lip. Finally she turned and faced him. "Do you know why that is?" she almost whispered.

"Why what is?" he frowned.

"Why he doesn't get mad at me?"

"Uh –he gets along with you better?"

"Yes", she laughed, "but only superficially. Henry, you were the one who was there for him all the time he was growing up. You were the one whose opinion mattered to him. Me – well he loved me and I love him but I think -", she stopped.

"What? What do you think?"

"I think that even from a young age he sensed that I was looking for something – something that was going to fulfil me. It wasn't that I didn't love the two of you, because god knows I did, but I needed something more and Shawn knew that. I think he grew up fearing that I would leave and therefore was always careful around me. He wasn't bad with me, didn't argue, didn't fight – because he was afraid that he'd cause me to leave."

"That's crazy?"

"Is it?" she asked. "I don't think so. He fights with you and argues with you because he trusts you Henry. He knows you'll be there for him no matter what. His disagreeing with you – that's to prove that he's his own person – you're a strong personality and you spent a log of years trying to shape him so now he's proving to you he's his own man. But that doesn't matter because he also knows he can trust you not to leave him, to be there for him no matter what. I may be the parent he loves and misses – you are the parent he loves – and needs."

Henry swallowed – or at least he tried to swallow. He didn't know if what Maddie was saying was true or not – but he wanted to believe it was. He was never quite sure how Shawn really felt about him. Oh, he knew his son loved him – in some way – but to think that Shawn trusted him to that depth and needed him – made all the difference in the world.

"Can I ask you something Henry?" Maddie suddenly spoke.

He blinked and looked at her, snapped out of his thoughts. "Of course."

"Have you been treating Shawn carefully? I mean, have you been gentle with him and understanding and kind?"

"Of course!" he snapped, peeved that she would even consider that he'd do anything else.

"Maybe that's the problem."

"What? What the hell are you saying?"

"Just that – maybe he needs the old irascible Henry back. Oh, not right away – he needs time to heal physically – but it's like everything was ripped out from underneath him and he's struggling to make sense of his world again. Having you act – differently – than normal must be one more thing that convinces him that things have changed and that he has to change with it. I think it might be good for him – eventually – to have you start to lecture him again."

Henry couldn't believe his ears. For years Maddie had accused him of being too harsh on Shawn, of constantly riding him, and now she was telling him to go ahead and do it again.

"So – you want me to tell Shawn off – for what? Getting himself kidnapped and tortured?"

"Of course not Henry, don't be stupid. I mean – just start being a bit more like yourself – you know, you can be a pain in the ass – so let Shawn start to see glimpses of that. It might help."

"Great – now I have to torment my son even more."

"Don't think of it that way", she told him, again linking her arm with his and pointing him back to the house. "Think of it as – therapy, Henry style."

His Mom and Dad were both watching a moving, while he continued to lie on the couch, a useless pile of crap. He rolled his eyes – what was different about that? That's who he was.

Well, in fact his parents co-habiting in the same house and co-babysitting him, without one harsh word or comment was different. It was little green aliens playing bagpipes and doing clog dancing on the kitchen table kind of different. It was Mr. T. giving up his necklaces kind of different. It was Gus saying he wasn't hungry kind of different. It was Jules telling him 'yes, I'll go out with you Shawn and peel your grapes and nibble your ear-lobes different. Hey – that was a really good one. He'd have to remember it and mention it to her. It would be awesome.

It was great having his Mom here, really it was, although he was starting to get antsy from the hovering and the thought that she was constantly analyzing him. He knew he was depressed and crazy and – and he didn't need his mother watching him to see if he'd pick up the butcher knife and go on a rampage around Santa Barbara.

He didn't want to admit it – and shied away from the truth of it – but it had been easier when it was just his father. He felt like he needed to please his mother, to keep her happy - but with his Dad – well, he wanted him to be proud of him, but he knew he could just be himself and not have to worry that Henry was worrying.

He closed his eyes, not interested in the movie. He dozed, half awake, and forced himself to think back to his time with Bill. There was something bothering him – something nagging at him that he'd been able to suppress until now. What was it? What the hell was it?

A date! That's what it was – a date – in September. But what did it mean? He thought back to his time with Bill, even though his mind wanted to shy away from it. No – you have to think Shawn – what was the date?

He closed his eyes, hoping his parents would think he was falling asleep. Instead, he put all his energy into concentrating. What the hell did that date mean? September 10, 1969. What did it mean?

Bill Farris could only have been ten or twelve in 1969 so it probably didn't have anything to do with him – or at least only indirectly. What had he said when he'd told him the date? He'd said 'that bastard, that bastard'. So, there was someone else involved. Suddenly he knew it was imperative that he find that other person. He had a terrible feeling that if he didn't, someone was going to die.

"Dad?"

"Hmmm?" Henry was too involved in the movie, so Shawn had to call again.

"What is it Shawn?" Henry kept his eyes, and most of his attention, on the TV.

"Dad – it's about Bill Farris. Please, I need some information."

There was a bit of a time delay from when he said the word to when his Dad registered them.

"What?" Henry grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. His Mom sat up straight and looked at him, a concerned expression on her face. "What about Farris?"

"I remembered something and we need to check it out. I think someone may be in danger."

"But – Shawn, it's been over two weeks since we found you. If he was going to do something I think he would have done it by now. It's probably too late."

"Maybe, but we don't know that for sure. For one thing, he's wanted and he's gonna have to lay low. And the other thing – he may not know where the person is."

"What person? What did he say?"

"Well – he didn't really say anything – but he left clues." He explained the pictures and the clues he'd recovered. He barely glanced at his Mom, but when he did he could see that her face had gone totally white. Instantly he felt like a heel. "I'm sorry Mom – you don't need to listen to all of this. Why don't – why don't you go to bed."

"Don't be ridiculous Shawn", his loving mother retorted. "I'm just fine. Now keep going."

"Okay", he answered, and almost grinned when his father gave him a knowing smile. "look – get Lassy or Jules to check out September 10, 1969 and William Farris. Something may have happened that day and we need to find out what it was."

"Okay – I'll call one of the detectives and then we'll let them handle it. Your one and only job right now is to get better – so you can pass off this job to the police."

Shawn looked – for a moment – as if he was going to argue. Henry felt a surge in hope – Shawn was coming back – but then the euphoria of the moment passed as Shawn's face went blank.

"Okay", he said, sounding defeated. "Just tell Lassie to hurry it up, okay. Someone's life could be in danger."