A/N: I am soooooooooo sorry for not keeping my promise. But this chapter was written in the middle of the night, when I had a huge attack of inspiration. I swear I will try to finish half of this story before 22nd June. That's when my exams start, and after I'll be able to update after two weeks only. So just hang with me here. Cause this chapter has a LOT more action than ever before. It's angsty, and ends with a half-cliffhanger. Sorry for that.
I'll try my best to post the next chapter in two days. Sorry for the extremely long A/N! Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Psych or any of the characters in this story except for the ones that never actually appeared on the real show.
Ch 4: Guess Who's in Town!
Shawn's eyes opened to see his father bending over him, glaring at him. Groaning, Shawn sat up and muttered, "I had the shortest, craziest dream of my lifetime." That was absolutely true. He had dreamt that Jules had knocked him out with an injection . . . and that was that.
"Yeah? What's that, son?" Henry asked, his voice suspiciously calm.
Shawn frowned, realising his dad was holding something in his fist. He pointed at it and said, "What's that?"
"You tell me," Henry sighed, handing over the crumpled sheet to his son and fixed his glare right back on. Shaking his head slightly, Shawn un-crumpled (is that a word?) the paper and turned it over to where he could see something written in blue ink . . . and strangely, in his handwriting. Then he froze, "Where'd you find this, dad?"
"It was on the floor when I came in. Now, when were you going to tell me that you were making plans with a serial killer?"
"I wasn't. I mean, I wasn't making plans. And it wasn't Yang . . . these letters are from Yin."
After recovering from what was evidently shock, Henry turned back to Shawn, "What do you mean . . . Yin's alive?"
"Yes. Yes, he is. And you weren't supposed to find out. Nobody was supposed to find out," Shawn groaned, finally realizing the enormity of the situation. He put his head in his hands and groaned again. "Yin sent me this letter last month, on Christmas, and warned me not to let anyone know, if I valued their life. Now, you know. You were the last person who was supposed to know."
"Why's that?" Henry said with the quirk of an eyebrow.
"Because . . ." Shawn looked away, despair drowning his heart. Last month Yin did send him a letter, just to tell Shawn he was alive. Yang hadn't killed Yin. She had been playing along. There had been a lot going on behind the scenes and Yin had given Shawn a backstage pass. Apparently, Shawn was allowed to investigate further into the process of Yin-Yang's, as long as he abandoned backup. Anyone else who would find out would be the serial-killer duo's next victim. As long as no one knew, there would be no victims. And his dad had found the paper on the floor, which meant that someone else knew this as well . . . which meant that there were two prospective victims. Crap.
And Shawn had dismissed any thoughts to investigating this case again. He wasn't ready to deal with those two again.
Yet.
Maybe he would never be.
The happiness he had felt when the thing ended was indescribable. And now he couldn't believe that the whole thing was about to start again.
"Shawn, I'm waiting . . ." Henry said, still looking at him with a doubtful expression.
Shawn realised he could lose his father again. When Carp had shot him, Shawn had become crazy, all hopped up on coffee and Jamba Juice as he ran across the city looking for his dad's shooter.
And these two had become more personally involved with Shawn than he had ever wanted. They knew exactly what would break the pseudo psychic.
"Dad, no, you don't understand!" Shawn said, voice rising with every word. His chest started to feel tight and he sat up straight in his bed, swinging his legs down the side and firmly placing them on the ground. "Oh, God! Oh God, no. Not this again," he murmured.
"Whoa, calm down there! You can tell me this, Shawn. It's me. Yin is alive, okay. Is he after you again?" Shawn looked at his father; eyes filled with pure terror and strangely enough, shock, and said, "Yes."
Lassiter had called Shawn. It was the first thing he had done after getting his partner to the hospital, where she now sat across him, cradling her fractured right arm. Then, after about ten minutes of silence, she broke down.
Startled, Carlton had crossed over to where Juliet was seated and had asked her in a concerned voice about what had happened. If Spencer had suddenly decided to go comatose . . . then God help him, for Lassiter was going to make sure that the psychic went through hell when he woke up.
It was Juliet. Juliet was the second person who knew.
Of the two most important people in his life with whom he did not share a blood relation, one was now exposed to a serial killer hell bent on revenge . . . and it was Shawn's fault.
And the worst part was . . . well, the whole damn news had been the worst thing he heard, mainly because it was conveyed via Captain Sunshine Lassiekins. Shawn groaned for the millionth time that day.
It started right after his Dad asked him about Yin, and Shawn groaned for the 888,000,444,111th time. His phone started vibrating from where it sat on his bedside table, and he grabbed it, frowning when the caller ID displayed Lassie's name.
"Lassie?" Shawn answered the phone.
"No, it's Santa Clause, you numbskull! Of course it's me. Who else would be calling you from my phone?" Lassiter snapped. Shawn frowned, tilting his head a bit, "Eh . . . guess that makes sense. Why'd you call?"
"It's about . . . wait. Are you alright, Spencer?" Lassie asked, and Shawn could hear the frown in his voice.
"Hey man, I just got my head bashed and saw my attacker jump out of our double paned Psych window. So cut me some slack on the no-snarky-comments dilemma," Shawn snapped. Henry raised his eyebrows at him. And Shawn sighed, putting a hand to his head. Yin-Yang were getting all up in his head again. And he needed to stop that. And Shawn was not psychic, but he had a pretty good feeling that his Dad wasn't up for lightening the mood. When will Gus come?!
"You're not fine. Never mind. It's O'Hara," Lassie said, and before he could say anything else, Shawn sat up straight and shouted, "Is she hurt?"
"Huh. Well, she fractured her right arm . . . but she's fine otherwise . . . I think. Did she tell you about the accident already?"
"What ACCIDENT?" he cried out, jumping up to his feet, ignoring how his head throbbed in protest. Then he took in a deep breath. Calm down, he chided himself. Don't be the Indian version of Rumpelstiltskin. "I mean . . . uh, I sensed she's hurt."
"Don't tell me you had a vision about my partner getting into a car crash and―" Shawn cut him off, recalling how uncomfortable Jules became when Shawn played the psychic card, "No, I mean, just . . . I had a premonition, not a vision. Just a gut feeling. Will you tell me what's wrong?"
"Well, O'Hara . . . Juliet got into a car crash and she called me. Her right arm's fractured, but other than that, she's unscathed. But . . . uh . . ."
"For God's damn sake, Lassiter," Shawn growled, absolutely out of patience. In the last twelve hours, he'd been attacked, he'd become a murder suspect (and had no evidence proving him innocent, he might add), and had endangered his father's life along with someone else's. He needed a break. Some solace that while he dealt with Yin-Yang, his loved ones would be okay, and that his own life wouldn't fall apart. He didn't want his mom strapped to a bomb . . . he didn't want Jules and someone else's life in jeopardy while he had to choose who was more worthy of living . . . and he didn't want a needle filled with lethal poison hovering millimetres above his best friend's skin.
"Um. She's crying," Lassiter finally spit out. And Shawn heaved a sigh of relief. "Come on, man. She must be scared, or, or maybe her arm's hurting. Get her some lukewarm and thick hot chocolate with low sugar . . . that's her favourite thing."
"Yeah, I don't think that's the reason . . . and . . . what? What's that supposed to mean . . . huh. Okay . . . Spencer, hold on . . . yes! I called him. You were in a car crash . . . what? O'Hara, you're not making any sense. Fine!" Shawn sighed. "Spencer, she wants you to know that she's seen the letter. And . . . she's not sparing your lie this time. I have no idea about what is going on."
But Shawn didn't hear the rest. He sunk onto the bed again. His heart seemed to have stopped beating for a while and he felt dizziness clogging his brain. When he came back to his senses, his dad was shaking him be the shoulder. Shawn spotted his phone on the ground. It must have slipped out of his hand when Lassie . . . oh. God.
"Juliet," Shawn whispered. She knows. Oh, God, she know. It was his fault.
"Juliet's the second person? Wait, no. Shawn, it is not your fault," his dad said. Hm. Maybe he'd been musing out loud. Then he saw his dad pick up his phone and tell Lassie to 'Shut it'.
"Oh, God, Dad," Shawn gasped. "What did I do?"
"Shawn."
Shawn looked up at Henry, startled. "Take the case, son. I'll tell care of Juliet."
Tell her what? Shawn wondered. Oh, right. She probably thinks I'm a serial killer.
"No, I can't let you off alone, and hello! I'm in custody . . . I think."
"You drop me off, but I am not getting on that damn bike. And you are not going after Yin and Yang alone. I'm calling Gus."
"No!" Shawn spun around to face Henry.
And Henry realized that his son's eyes were glinting. With anger. And desperation.
He put his hands on Shawn's shoulders and whispered, "Shawn, calm down."
Shawn laughed humorously, and looked down, closing his eyes. Henry could see two spots of red on his cheeks. Sweat shone on his forehead and under his eyes.
"You're not in this alone. I'm here, Gus is here, Juliet's here, your mom's here. Heck, even Lassiter's here. And Karen. And nothing is happening to us. It's only you we're concerned about, son," Henry said softly. Shawn opened his eyes and looked up, "Me?"
"You don't know this, but . . . Lassiter, Karen, Gus and I did have a―a meeting of sorts," Henry looked away.
"A meeting?" Shawn said, still in his soft voice. Henry did not like that voice. He wanted his son to be annoying . . . that was Shawn. This wasn't. This was someone who was scared, trapped, and lonely. Shawn was desperate . . . and that could end badly.
"We were worried about you. We still are. Your mom is too. Everytime we talk, we talk about the whole thing. When the Yin-Yang fiasco did not recur during the last year and a half, I was sure it was all over."
"I was too."
"Well, it's not. Now get up and get going. Bust these sons of a bitch. Kill them the moment you set your eyes on them."
Shawn looked up at Henry. An understanding passed between them. Shawn nodded.
"I'm going to call Gus. Drink water, Shawn. Calm down. Okay?" Henry started to walk away, but paused as Shawn called out to him. "I don't want Gus involved in this too."
"Shawn. He'll be with you. And I know you will never let anything happen to anyone you love. No matter how hard it is," Henry said. He ruffled his son's hair, and then turned to walk away before Shawn could stop him again.
And Shawn turned, sat down on his bed. His head felt hot. His dad had said that Juliet and Lassiter and Chief were all by him.
But would they seriously support a psychic believed to be a serial killer?
