Shawn swerved into his parking spot and pulled himself off the bike. He kicked the support down angrily and then stomped off down the sidewalk towards his apartment. He slammed his apartment door and threw his helmet down on the couch. He paced for over ten minutes, to angry to do anything else. He'd had the worse day imaginable. He was still damp from the rain, his tight jeans sticking to him like an uncomfortable second skin, his phone was broken, which meant he'd have to get a new one, everyone at work was too busy for him or threatening to arrest him, even Juliet seemed to barely tolerate his presence.

"It means I've already spent too much time with you today."

"Don't hold your breath."

"Stop distracting my detectives before I arrest you for obstruction of justice!"

He was still reeling from Gus' outburst. Gus had gotten angry at him in the past, but never like this. Shawn shook his head, his mind unable to forget everything Gus had said to him.

"I'm fed up of not having my own life because you're always there messing it up!"

"You're always thinking about yourself, screw everyone else!"

Then after all of that, his father had hit a nerve or two as he recited more from his list of things about my son that disappoint me.

"Go on then, run like you usually do, It's what you're good at isn't it?"

"I'm sick of you acting like I'm the devil Shawn. Grow up!"

It seemed like no-one could be bothered with him anymore, he was just a huge annoyance in everyone's lives. He just got in the way of everything and messed everything up.

He brushed a hand through his short hair and then rubbed his tired eyes. He took a quick shower to warm himself up and the dressed himself in some dry clothes. He looked around his small apartment and sighed. It was nothing to be proud of. The kitchen had been barely used apart from cutting up pineapple and making cups of coffee, the living room consisted of a cheap old couch and TV that flickered in bad weather and his bedroom was cluttered with dirty clothes, books, CD's, a guitar, bits of reminders from his travels and a surfboard which poked out from under the bed.

It seemed the old good thing in his life was Psych and he couldn't even go there at the moment. Sitting at the office with nothing to do would just remind him that he had no work and his best friend wasn't speaking to him.

Suddenly he realised what he had to do. He scrambled over the bed and pulled out his old duffle bag. He pulled clean clothes from the closet and stuffed them into the bag. He ran into the living room and pulled a thick book off the meagre bookshelf. He opened up the hollowed out book and pulled out the stash of money. He'd seen it in a movie once and had decided it would be the perfect hiding place for his money. The wad of cash got plashed in an envelope in the bottom of his bag along with other important items like his passport and his signed autograph of Mary Steenburgen.

Finally once everything had been packed, he turned off all the electricity in his apartment he took one last look at his apartment. He wasn't going forever, just a couple of weeks. Just enough to clear his mind and give everyone he'd been annoying a break.

"Guess you were right dad," he said to the empty room, "I do run."

He made one quick stop at his landlady's apartment to get her to keep his mail for him before he exited the building, slung the bag over his shoulders and climbed back onto his motorcycle. He revved up the engine and without a second thought, drove away.

Shawn was nearing the outskirts of Santa Barbara when he looked down at his bike and cursed. He hadn't checked how much gas was in the bike before he left and now he was running low. He pulled into the nearest gas station, jumped off his bike and began filling up.

"Hey watch it!" Daniel snapped as his brother Adam spilt his soda on the floor of the van.

"M'sorry, Danny," the younger man mumbled.

"It's okay," Daniel sighed. He pulled into the gas station and turned off the engine, "Just don't do it again." The pair climbed out of the van and Adam watched as Daniel began filling up the van with gas.

"Hey look!" Adam cried. Daniel looked over where Adam was pointing. Standing by a classic motorcycle was a man that Daniel recognized. He'd seen him in the newspaper numerous times after he'd solved various crimes, "It's him, it's that psychic!" Adam jumped up and down. Daniel calmed his brother down with a firm hand on his shoulder.

A smile formed on Daniel's lips as a plan began to form. Seemed like the psychic had appeared just at the right time. "Wanna meet him?" Daniel asked.

Adam's eyes widened, "Really?"

Daniel nodded, "Sure." He looked over at the psychic, "Hey!" He shouted, catching the man's attention. "Over here." The psychic frowned warily but slowly made his way over to the pair.

"What can I do for you fellas?" The man asked.

"Can I have your autograph?" Adam asked.

"A couple of fans, huh?" The man smiled, "Sure, you got a pen and paper?"

"In here" Daniel opened the back of the van. Daniel watched as the man neared the open doors and before the psychic could resist he pushed the man as hard as he could into the back. The man tripped up, too shocked with surprise to stop himself from falling. His head hit the metal floor with a clunk and he fell unconscious.

"What are you doing?" Adam asked.

"Getting us a hostage," Daniel explained calmly as he slammed the doors shut.

"A hostage?"

"The police won't risk his life just to stop us, now get in the van before someone sees us." The pair climbed back in the van and drove out of the gas station at speed, conveniently forgetting to pay.