A/N: Pleasereview! And trust me, this is the most suspenseful chapter since chapter one . . . with a twist.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Psych or any of the characters. This story is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes. I make no profit out of it . . . except for the enhancement of my writing skills.

Chapter 5: Partnership Is a Two-Way Thing

Gus came by an hour later, and Henry climbed beside him in the passenger seat. Shawn narrowed his eyes at his dad and stood outside the window.

"Go sit in the back, Shawn," Henry said, fixing a stare on his son. Shawn sighed, climbing into the backseat.

"Hey, man," Gus greeted, looking at him at the rear-view mirror. Shawn smiled his carefree smile and said cheerily, "Better than a guy who got bashed on his head and then got beaten to the punch in riding shotgun by his dad."

"Yeah, you're fine," Gus sighed, rolling his eyes. "And if you aren't, playful Gus is ready to be launched any moment Yin an—"

"Thanks, Gus," Shawn cut him off. Flashing a smile. Henry stopped himself from turning around and looking at his son to make sure he was okay. But he wasn't. Shawn dipped his head after Gus's focus went back to the road. He stared at the goosebumps on his arms and then closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

He continued . . . he breathed. And breathed. And then he heard Henry, "Okay, boys! I'll be fine, Shawn, and so will Juliet. Be calm . . . and Gus . . ."

Henry had whispered the last word . . . but Shawn heard it . . . and the message conveyed by it.

Henry turned in his seat, smiled reassuringly at Shawn, and climbed out, and Shawn climbed over the seat into the passenger seat.

"Will you stop doing that? This is a company car, you know?" Gus whined. But Shawn's eyes never left his father until he finally entered the hospital.

"It's all going to be fine, buddy," Gus said. Shawn nodded, and whispered, "What do you have on the murder case?"

"Nothing much," he replied. Shawn nodded.

"So, let's go," he said, pulling out a different letter . . . the very first one. Inside, directions were clearly given . . . a cabin. "You know that cabin near the station?"

"Yeah . . . why would they choose that place?" Gus frowned.

"I don't know. I guess I'm not quite the elaborate serial killer I've been assumed to be," Shawn sighed. Gus gave his shoulder a pat, and then revved the engine to life.

"You sure about this?" Gus asked nervously, flashing back to the time when an injection filled with a lethal concoction had hovered barely milimetres over his skin.

"I can't turn back now," Shawn said, eyes fixed on the cabin. "This place looks like the Everdeens' house from the Hunger Games."

"I know, right?" Gus said. "Come on, let's kill these psychos." He climbed out. Then, Shawn opened his door, and then he paused, "Wait a second, buddy."

"Wha . . .?" he paused. And then he saw Shawn bend over and grab a handgun from below his seat. His dad had left it for him.

Shawn gripped it, and then he stood up, turning off the safety.

"Let's go," he said, leading the way inside the cabin.

He paused right outside the door, and raised his fist to knock. Then thought better of it and pulled out his Swiss, jamming the blade between the door and the threshold, trying to pry open the lock.

"Gus, get behind that crate," he grunted with effort. Gus spun around to look at the crate in confusion.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Just do it!"

The very next moment, Gus was glad for the advice. As soon as he was hidden, he heard, "That's not going to open it, Shawn." Shawn spun around with an audible gasp.

"Yin," Shawn managed, recovering first. Gus was meanwhile, contemplating making a dash for it. No, he wasn't. Ultimately, Gus knew he could never bring himself to leave Shawn with a psychopath who had personally challenged him.

"Looks like you lived," Shawn said, taking a slow and steady breath. Gus could see Shawn fighting to keep down his rising panic, and he froze in his hiding place. No need to add anything more to Shawn's list of worries.

"And looks like you failed to keep up with my rules," Yin said in his gentlemanly, eerily calm voice.

Shawn chuckled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes!" suddenly, Yin was very angry. He drew out a gun, aiming it at Shawn, who froze. "Yes, you do. And now you're going to pay for it."

"Whoa, calm down. Don't lose your whole crazed-but-well-mannered-psycho act!" Shawn spat out at him.

And Gus realized that this could become messy. From where he was hidden between the two, he could see that the safety of Yin's gun was off. He cocked his gun, "You'll be paying for this, Shawn."

And Gus jumped out from his hiding place, with courage he didn't know he had. A millisecond later, he saw the trigger being pulled and the bullet left the gun, straight at Shawn.

The last thought Gus had was of satisfaction . . . at least Shawn wasn't getting shot a second time.

The bullet never hit Shawn. But then, he never expected it to. The moment he saw Gus moving out from behind the crate he realized what the glint in Yin's eyes was about. It wasn't craziness. It was evil . . . malice . . . and genius.

Yin knew Gus was there.

And the bullet never hit Shawn. Shawn could see the bullet moving towards him . . . and then he lost the view of it as Gus's body came into his view . . . and a spot of red appeared in his lavender shirt . . . in the middle of his back.

The cry of 'No!' left Shawn's mouth too late, Gus was already on the ground, his eyes wide in alarm.

Shawn was glued to where he had been standing, until his legs thawed and turned to jelly at Gus's weak, "Shawn?"

Shawn dropped to his knees beside his best friend. "Gus!" he cried. He clasped Gus's alarmingly cool hand and shouted, "No . . . no, stay with me! Open your eyes, Gus!"

He looked up in panic, only to realize Yin had disappeared. "YIN!" he shouted. "Come out, you coward!"

"Shawn . . . I don't feel very good," Gus said softly, his eyes starting to close.

"NO, NO, NO! Gus, stay awake! I'm calling an ambulance. It'll all be fine!"

Shawn's hands trembled as he dialled for Lassiter, fully aware that he was in no state to give proper directions in a calm voice to the hospital.

"Spencer!" Lassiter barked. Shawn cried, "Gus. He's been shot. Lassiter, there's so much blood . . ."

"What? What the heck are you talking . . . Henry? Oh, crap! Spencer, where are you? Tell me calmly . . . I'm still at the hospital . . . I'll get an ambulance right away."

Shawn managed to ramble off the directions, shaking from head to toe, clasping Gus's hand as though it would keep him from closing his eyes. Gus tried to clutch Shawn's hand, but was too weak. Shawn dropped his phone when he was done, stammering as he reassured Gus . . . promising that he would kill Yin. Saying that he should have killed Yin the moment he saw him. He should have. This was his fault.

This was entirely his fault.

It was a while until he noticed that Gus was breathing normally, starting to nod and squeeze Shawn's hand in response. He started to relax even further when he heard the siren of the ambulance.

But watching the blood flow out of his best friend's chest, he could barely feel Lassiter prying open his fingers and pulling him away from Gus, and into his Crown Vic. His eyes never left Gus's form as he grunted in pain while being lifted onto the stretcher, until he was safely inside the ambulance, Henry in tow. Shaking, Shawn sat down, trying to breathe normally. He was jerked back to reality as Juliet took his hand in her own cool one, whispering that everything would be fine, asking him to drink water. But Shawn shook his head, and rested it on his girlfriend's shoulder.

He wasn't sure of whether he had put it there, or if Juliet had. But he closed his eyes, the shock finally starting to get replaced by anger.

He breathed calmly . . . and closed his eyes, scared of someone seeing the mad glint in then. He was going to kill Yin. And Yang. And whoever else was involved. Maybe Allison Cowley too.

Shawn couldn't rest. He paced in the waiting room right outside the ER. His hands were in fists, because when he opened the fists, his fingers started trembling. His brain raced as he tried to figure out a way to get to Yin-Yang and Allison. But all he came up with was a big white blank. On the chief's insistence, he had taken some water after it was pointed out that his face was red. His dad had filled out forms and called Gus's parents and Joy. Bill and Winnie Guster had come, and now they were seated across the hall. Mrs. Guster's face was drawn and pale . . . and Mr. Guster was outside, talking to Joy. It had been four hours since they had taken Gus for surgery.

Shawn wanted to just rush out of there that very moment to hunt down Gus. But he couldn't concentrate till he was assured that Gus would be fine.

"Mr. Spen— Shawn. Are you absolutely certain it was Yin? You saw him?" Karen Vick questioned.

"Yes, Chief. I saw him. He shot Gus!" Shawn said, wincing when 'shot' left his mouth.

Karen put a hand on her forehead . . . shaking her head, "Crap."

"I'm willing to bet that was his plan all along. He knew Gus was behind that crate. He planned it all out! He . . . I . . ." Shawn trailed off, unable to explain his utter disgust and anger at Yin's low blow.

"Gus was hiding?" Juliet asked with a frown.

"Yeah . . . he jumped out," Shawn muttered, suddenly feeling tired.

"Why'd he do that?" Lassiter demanded with a frown.

Shawn opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He looked at the head detective helplessly . . . wishing he could rewind time. He could've pushed Gus away, instead of standing there like an idiot. He could've never brought Gus in the first place. He could answer Lassiter instead of standing there like an idiot with his mouth open.

Karen nodded understandingly and said, "Lassiter, what are the reports from the crime scene?"

"We found footprints," Carlton Lassiter hung his head, cringing at how pathetic that was.

"Well, knowing Yin over the years, we wouldn't have found that either. Shawn must've caught him off guard," Karen said. Turning to the younger Spencer, she complimented, "Good work, Mr. Spencer."

"It was good, but not good enough," Shawn answered darkly. "Lassie, what shoe was he wearing?"

"Size ten, business shoes," Lassiter replied instantly.

"I guess it's safe to assume that that wasn't his actual shoe size anyway, he always does that," Henry sighed. But Shawn put a finger to his head, "No . . . wait."

He flashed back to when yin had started walking around a bit. He was dragging his foot. Almost as if . . .

"He has a leg injury!" Shawn claimed. "Possibly a permanent one!"

"Which means he wouldn't wear any shoe size except for his own!" Juliet realized, jumping up from her seat.

"Perfect. Lassiter, ask McNabb to enter this into our database. And Shawn . . . I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier! Sit down with the sketch artist and give her a description of Yin, okay?"

Shawn rubbed his tired eyes and nodded. Then he stayed right where he was. Lassiter cleared his throat, "Spencer, you can't give the sketch here. Why don't you go outside for a while?"

Shawn glared at Lassiter, "I am not―"

"If the doctor has anything to say, you'll be the first person to know. Now, go," Henry promised. Shawn stopped glaring, sighed and followed Juliet outside. They both sat down together just outside the waiting room.

As they sat down on the seats along the wall, Juliet took Shawn's right hand with her left and said, "It'll be fine, sweetheart. Gus will be fine."

Shawn looked deeply into her eyes, and taking in the fact that Juliet herself believed this.

"And I looked at the place where the wound was," she continued, never breaking his gaze. "I'm pretty sure that it's just a flesh wound."

She was telling the truth. It wasn't as good as a doctor's word, but she was a cop. A trained cop. Shawn nodded, breaking the gaze and resting his head on her shoulder. She put up her palm against his cheek, the stubble grazing her skin.

They stayed that way till Juliet could make out Buzz coming down the hallway, sketch artist in tow.

"Hey, guys," Buzz flashed then a small smile, taking a seat across the hallway. The sketch artist settled down next to Shawn. Juliet and Buzz exchanged a look of wonder as they watched Shawn shoot absolutely accurate details and the sketch artist draw them with perfect precision, almost as though even she was fuelled with anger.

Which she probably was, Juliet realized. The sketch artist had lost her husband to a bomb blast orchestrated by Yin-Yang.

The sketch was done in no time, and Juliet peeked over Shawn's shoulder at it, realizing with a chill that the picture looked accurate enough to be Yin himself staring out at them. She had seen Yin two years back . . . while she cut open the zip ties around Shawn's wrist . . .

Smiling a bit at Shawn and Juliet, she left, Buzz in tow.

Shawn stood up to go back to the waiting room, only to stop when he felt Juliet's hand on his arm. He turned to look at her. And she stood up, clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice clear and unwavering.

"For what?" Shawn asked with a slight frown.

Sighing, Juliet seized his hand, bringing it up to her lips and kissing it. "For thinking that you were a serial killer. I made the connection with the case. Honestly, I have no idea about what I was thinking."

"Yeah, well, it's okay. You did what you should have. And see, we still don't have any evidence proving that I'm innocent."

Juliet frowned, "No. You're not the lead suspect anymore. Yin must've planted―"

"Yin wasn't my attacker that day," Shawn said.

"Yeah, well," Juliet said after a pause. "He could've hired someone to do it. Or maybe forced someone. The attacker took a piece of your shirt . . . obviously had your DNA because on account of just having fought you . . . and he planted it on the murder victim after Yin killed him."

"That sounds a bit far-fetched, don't you think?" Shawn said with a humourless laugh. He turned, and Juliet pulled him back, "Hey! Stop beating yourself up. Yin did this. Yin hurt Gus. Yin killed the guy. Yin attacked you. He trapped you. That's what he did the last three times, Shawn."

Shawn closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. And Juliet leaned her forehead against his. Very-close talking, she thought with a smile.

"But we're all with you. This time, we're going to kill the son of a bitch once and for all," Juliet said, adopting a softer tone, still in the very-close-talking position. Shawn smiled slowly, inching forward so that their lips just about touched at the smallest movement.

"I know. And you're right," Shawn said, goosebumps on their arms as they felt each other's lips touching their own. "Yin is going to hell this time. Literally and figuratively."

"And this time, I'm openly helping you with any mad plans you have, no matter what. Let's do this," she said, a smile making her own lips stretch. She could taste the bitter coffee on Shawn's lips when she kissed him, running her hand across his back and shoulder with the other hand caressing the side of his neck, sighing with pleasure at the feeling of his stubble on her skin.

"Gus jumped out . . . he took the bullet for me," Shawn whispered as they broke away.

"I know," Juliet said, caressing his cheek.

Shawn looked at her with confusion. "You do?"

"I figured it out. and it wasn't your fault, Shawn. After all, partnership is a two-way thing."