A/N: Soooo... How are you? Oh, gosh this is kinda awkward. I feel weird updating with a shorter chapter after, like, going of the grid (Well, for my Psych stories I was off the grid). I cannot apologize enough, but I hope the chapter will soothe everything.

I'm sorry I've been spending more time with my Criminal Minds stories than here in the Psych fandom, but hey, at least you're not the NCIS fandom. 'Cause I'm severely lacking in stories and updates there.

So, the next chapter is nearly finished, but I'm going on a short vacation this week, so no updates until Saturday or sometime after the weekend.

I hope you all still review. Each one really means a lot to me. And I want you guys to know that each one I've gotten in my absence has made me feel extremely guilty, and forced me to focus on writing more.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych, but you know what? Neither I nor the TV show has come out with anything new since December... Huh, that explains the lack of inspiration.

ENJOY!

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Ivan Sadusky was scared.

He'd done some awful things, and now he was going to hell.

But not for the reasons one might think. One would think he would be sent to hell, A.K.A. a life sentence in prison, for murder, but no, that wasn't what he was going to hell for. While two homicides might get him that life sentence, he firmly believed that those crimes weren't, in fact, homicides at all. In his mind, which he believed to be very clear, it was self-defense.

Stephanie had attacked him first, or at least that's what he thought. Her gentle touch that night as she looked into his eyes and asked him to leave his wife could easily come across as threatening. After all, she had had a knife poised at his neck. Rather, that's what he would tell his defense attorney.

And the nosy man he'd stabbed earlier had obviously been intending to rob him. Ivan had only been protecting his home, and himself. So, of course it was only self-defense. It's not like he intended to kill him.

No, he wasn't going to hell for those crimes.

As Ivan peeked through the bushes, he watched the officers leave the "scene of the crime". Soon enough only one cop remained to guard the scene, to make sure no one contaminated the evidence.

Frankly, Ivan thought it was a little silly. It was his home, and having a guard there twenty-four-seven was a waste of time. He wasn't going to take anything.

That's when Ivan decided it was time to tell the good officer to leave his property immediately.

He hurried over to the young cop. A rookie for sure, Ivan thought. This guy didn't have the look of a hardened officer or detective. No, his dark hair still shone and he was still quick to smile. Not to mention he wasn't the least bit suspicious of Ivan. Not even a smidgeon.

"Excuse me, sir," Ivan called as he approached.

The young man smiled politely. "Yes?"

"You can go now," Ivan told him as he stopped just feet from the cop.

"What?" He asked, a confused expression settling on his face. "Who are you?"

"I live here," Ivan said simply. He watched as realization dawned on the man's face, and he went for his gun.

"Ah-ah," Ivan scolded. Then, quickly, before the cop could reach his firearm, he procured from his satchel a long, wooden stake about the length of his forearm.

The man's eyes widened, and without further hesitation, Ivan lunged.

Yes, that was what he was going to hell for.

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Burton Guster's tiny blue Echo screeched out of the parking lot, and for once Gus didn't care whether or not the tires were damaged. He couldn't be in that place any longer. The sense of loss and despair was overwhelming, and it was suffocating him.

He just wanted to be free from it for a moment. Free from the sorrow and guilt. Free to be angry at the world, at himself. It really didn't matter which. His best friend was going to die either way. Nothing could change that.

Except the antidote, his conscience whispered.

Gus sighed, "Nothing but the antidote, which I don't have." Suddenly, a burst of anger overtook him. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare loudly. "They don't even know what the damn poison is!"

Then find out, his conscience, which for some reason sounded a lot like his mother, said. After all, it is your fault Shawn is dying. If you had stopped him from breaking into that house, none of this would be happening.

Gus didn't deny it, mostly because he'd be talking to himself if he did, but he couldn't see any way to find out what the poison was. He didn't have a lab to test it, and he didn't even have a sample of it to test. The only other way to find out was if Ivan Sadusky suddenly decided to make an appearance and tell everybody what it was.

Somehow, Gus didn't picture Ivan barging into the police station saying, "Hey! I'm that murderer you're looking for! And, oh, look! Here's some of that poison I've been using to kill people!"

He shook his head to clear his mind. There was no purpose to imagining things that were quite impossible. He needed to focus on what he could do, but that was the question. What can I do? Gus thought miserably, I'm just Shawn's best friend, his sidekick. I don't have his eidetic memory. I can't do what he does.

Just at that moment, Gus heard the crackle of static coming from the police scanner Shawn had somehow installed in the car. He wasn't sure exactly when Shawn had done it, but the point was that he had. Now, Gus had to suffer through random patrolmen reporting various things.

There were a few moments of just static before a voice floated through the speaker. "1732 B-bush street," the voice, a man's surely, paused due to a fit of coughs. "O-officer down. I-I repeat," the man hacked some more, "of-officer d-down!" With that, the broadcast was over and silence reigned.

Gus, of course, had immediately recognized the address. As soon as he heard it, he had made and illegal U-turn (thank God the road he was practically deserted) and started driving towards the address.

1732 Bush Street.

In other words: Ivan Sadusky's home.

Gus now knew exactly where he was going.

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Ivan Sadusky's Home: Seven Minutes Later

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

As the Echo came to a halt in Ivan Sadusky's driveway, Gus couldn't help but let a shiver run down his spine. A strange feeling had come over him on the way there. He couldn't explain it, but he did know it wasn't good.

He cautiously opened the door, and he stepped out. Taking a second to survey the layout of the property. He was just about to head toward the house when something caught his eye.

It was an unnatural shine on the lawn that made him move forward. He didn't even know he was walking toward the odd shine until he was standing right beside it. He looked at it with a detached sort of curiousity as he tried to figure out what it might be. His senses only returned to him when the answer struck him. Then, he turned around and vomited.

On his hands and knees now, facing the direction he'd come from and not the... shine... Gus wiped his mouth clean on his sleeve. He couldn't believe he hadn't known what it was right away. It was ridiculous how naive he was sometimes. After all, how could one not know blood when they see it? Especially when one's friend was the one who left it there.

Gus mustered all the courage he could manage, and turned to face 'it'. He cringed as he laid eyes on it again, but didn't back away, like he wanted to. Because there was something weird about the blood on the grass before him. Something was off... If he could just figure out what it was!

Then it hit him: It wasn't Shawn's blood. Of this he was sure. Shawn had been stabbed on the other side of the yard. Not by the driveway.

But if it wasn't his, then whose was it? Gus didn't have an answer. Not yet.

He continued to survey the 'scene', feeling like he was a little kid playing cop. The longer he stared, the more questions he had. And he wasn't sure how to get the answers he needed.

At least, he wasn't until he figure out that what he was looking at wasn't a pool of blood.

No, it was a streak.

That was when Gus knew that whoever had left the blood, also left a trail. So, in order to identify, and possibly rescue, the victim, Gus would have to follow it. And he did.

The blood trail, thinning out as Gus followed it, led into the garage. It was only on the grass, which was why Gus hadn't seen it on the driveway when he'd parked the Blueberry, and led into the side entrance.

Heart pounding, Gus slowly crept up beside the door, careful not to walk in front of the door's window. If he was seen, it could very well mean his death, and the death of whoever had been injured. Reaching a hand out to grasp the door handle, Gus took a deep breath, said a brief prayer to anyone that was listening, and slowly twisted the knob.

He knew that he should've called the cops, but he couldn't. Subconsciously, he'd gone there looking for trouble, not help, and now he'd gotten it. There had been nothing he could do for Shawn at the hospital, but where he was now? Well, he just might be able to save a life, and get revenge for a soon-to-be cut short one.

So, when he heard the voice of Ivan Sadusky yell, "Shut up, you stupid moron!" He didn't feel fear, as he usually would. Instead, he felt a flare of anger ignite inside him, and any doubts or hesitations he may have had before were gone in an instant. With his newfound bravery, he shoved the door open, letting light stream in to the formerly dark, dank garage, only to stop short of actually going in. Because what he saw inside the building, was not at all what he'd expected.

Instead of a helpless woman, such as Ivan's wife, being held captive while she bled to death, Gus came upon the sight of something else entirely. Lying on the dirty floor of the garage, in an eerily similar fashion to how Shawn had been earlier, was someone Gus knew. The victim wasn't a nameless innocent, like he'd expected.

The victim was Officer Buzz McNab.

And just as Gus was processing this new information, Ivan let out a shriek and launched himself at Gus, effectively knocking him to the ground.

OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

So, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE review!

PS: This chapter and the next weren't originally written to be two separate chapters, but it had to be.

PPS: Was anyone else extremely excited to see commercials for Psych on ION? I WAS!

PPPS: The long-awaited tenth chapter of A Kidnapping Catastrophe is THIS CLOSE *makes exaggerated gesture* to being complete! It should be up after the next update to this story.