It took a long while for either of them to move. It felt even longer before they were able to release the air they had been holding hostage in their lungs. The whole scene looked like a murder and it had the same effect on the two closest to the victim.

They were staring at the unmoving corpse of a good friend, and the feelings that came with that were beginning to rise to the surface. For Gus it was more the fear and anger that his body reacted to. So much so that it responded before his mind could recover from the shock. He only just began to try and consciously still his shaking hands when he noticed he was unable to steer his eyes from their locked position on the skeleton of the blueberry. His heart pounded in his ears loud enough to cover up the sound of the wind as it battled the raging ocean only so many yards from the office. His feet seemed to be trying to escape on their own and it took Gus a good amount of strength to not follow up with their suggestion.

And then he started to feel the anger. What he thought was a lump in his throat became a blessing muffler to the amount of curses he was ready to spew into the howling wind. Every one of his muscles began to tighten up for the second time, and he began to make indistinguishable sounds as he stomped his feet into the asphalt. His hands were stuck in fists while they were swung through the air in no discernible direction.

The only recognizable thing coming out of his mouth was, "someone's gonna pay, oh I swear it, someone's gonna pay."

Shawn could feel the sadness tugging at his heart when he could no longer tell what the mass of metallic twists and turns used to be. The blueberry deserved a much more grand death, maybe as it was being driven by David Hasselhoff and if the little blue car suddenly possessed a highly intelligent AI. Obviously something much more worthy than the death than the Aston Martin received in that new James Bond movie. Something heroic. Not this, this was sad. This was real.

It took a good fifteen minutes before either of them realized it would probably be best if they told someone.

They both headed back inside the office leaving the charred remains to continue to bend and warp against the wind. Gus almost immediately felt himself fall into a haze. His mind reeling on what he should do first. A smart man would call the car company and let them know about the predicament, and follow up with a call to his boss which he was not looking forward to. A concerned man would call the police first and inform them of the chunk of metal that taunted them from the parking lot and how it used to be a Toyota Echo. Maybe he'd even call his parents to inform them he was alright and find out how they were holding up. He started to lightly pace while his mind separated from the hectic world around him, even as the door swung open on its own.

Shawn gripped the door tightly as the storm tried it's best to enter the office. He groaned as his heels dug into the hardwood of the front room and the door pushed back against him with vengeance. He looked over to his oddly quiet friend who had been frantic moments earlier for help, but the man seemed to be acting like he was trying to figure out which character from friends he was most like. The last time he was debating it, he hadn't spoken to Shawn for six hours.

"Gus!" He squeaked as he felt his feet being pushed backwards against his efforts, "I'm going to lose! Oh god I'm going to lose!"

Gus seemed to snap back into reality at the sound of his friend being suffocated between the wall and the wood door.
He looked over his shoulder, spun on his heels—a lot more charismatically than he actually meant—and bolted toward his distressed friend.

Both of them grabbed a fistful of door and began to push back against it with all the strength they could muster. The wood groaned in response but was no match for the combined strength of the two men. It eventually gave up its attempts and withdrew back into the frame. They released it and took a few well deserved breaths to relax their now aching wrists and grinned at each other having successfully rid themselves of the threat of invasion by storm.

Shawn slapped Gus hard on the back drawing a yelp from his friend, "We totally showed him."
Gus shook his head. It was like the sight of the late blueberry had no effect on him, "Shawn, do you even understand what's happening here?"

Shawn's brows furrowed, half wanting to take what Gus said as an insult, but the other half deemed it not worth it, "Well, I'm not a weather man, but I'm pretty sure it's storming outside."

He winced at the harsh stare and frown combo he got in return.

"Don't you think it's possible that someone set the blueberry on fire? It could be a statement against us. We should call the police."
Shawn frowned, "Let's just wait. It's not worth it to call them now, there's fires happening everywhere and power lines going down all over Santa Barbara. Even if they do answer, it's not like they'll be able to do anything until later."

He hated to admit it, but Shawn was making sense—which wasn't a normal Shawn thing.

"Besides, we should really start cleaning up."

He hadn't realized it, but since they had witnessed the untimely death of the most reliable member of the psych agency he hadn't looked around to see what damage had been done to the psych office itself. One of the windows had blown inwards in the sheer force of the wind and the floor in front of it was soaked with rain. Miscellaneous papers were strewn across the hardwood floors as well as random stationary objects. Shawn's action figure collection looked as if it had gone through World War II with all the GI. Joe's that were laying broken and defeated in random places. One of them had found itself thrown into a nearby drawer, only the two legs were visible sticking out of a large file.

The vase that had fallen earlier remained shattered on the floor—it was a wonder neither of them had stepped on the broken shards of glass on their way inside. Gus checked his feet just in case, with all the crazy things happening at once, it probably wouldn't be hard for him to ignore sharp pain in his feet over the booming headache he now had.

He let out a low growl and rubbed his temples. Shawn had already dropped onto his knees and was using an old shirt to gather up the broken shards. Gus walked off to get a dustpan and help clean.

When he came back with the dustpan under his arm he looked over to see Shawn's back in the open doorway. Gus was mentally preparing himself for another wrestling match with the door when he noticed the shocked look that had frozen over Shawn's normal sneer.

He slowly made his way over to his friend's side and looked out the door to see the shivering soaking wet forms of Juliet O'Hara and Carlton Lassiter.