A/N: Okay, so here's the part where I apologize like a crazy person "I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY!" Okay now on to more important things:
So this is actually a pretty long chapter by my standards, but after the long wait (I'm sorry!) you guys might feel like it's too short. Well, live with it. I had to end it somewhere! You're lucky I didn't make it shorter, but I thought you guys deserved a longer chapter. And it had to end with the length it did because... well, ya know... I just LOVE cliffhangers :D
I'm hoping for more reviews on this chapter than I've gotten on previous chapters, not because it's better (Though you might think it is) but because of the increasing amount of people reading this and putting it on story alert. I really do update faster when there is more reviews, believe me, it keeps me motivated.
6/22/11: This chapter has been edited. PS: I tried out the whole thing with the phone that I wrote in the last chapter myself. I made sure it really would work before I wrote it.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych or anything I didn't make up... If I DID own Psych then I wouldn't make us fans wait until November 10th for more episodes! Grrr... Nov. 10th won't come soon enough!
Well, enjoy!
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
Lassiter just stood there for a minute in silence and eventually he heard it again, that voice that he couldn't really be hearing. It was impossible. There's no way it could be him.
"Lassie? Are you there?" Shawn's voice had risen in pitch and Lassiter thought he could detect a bit of panic.
"Sweet Lady Justice," Lassiter breathed in shock, garnering the attention of the others. Lassiter ignored them, his gaze sweeping around the room until he found what he was searching for.
A young man, who was still suffering from severe acne, was seated at Spencer's desk, looking through his computer. Lassiter strode over to him quickly and spun his chair around so the kid was facing him. Lassiter knew that he must look intimidating, but that's how he wanted it. He didn't want this kid screwing up the biggest break in this case that they'd had so far.
"I want you tracing this call!" He shouted into the tech-guy's ear, "Now!"
"Yes, sir!" The kid started typing furiously at his keyboard. He then turned to Lassiter and looked up at him stupidly, waiting for a signal of some sort.
"Do I have to tell you how to do your job?" Lassiter growled, torn between annoyance that the kid hadn't started tracing the call and concern that he hadn't heard Spencer speak for a while now.
"N-no, sir!" The tech quailed and he turned back to his computer and punched a few keys on the keyboard. "R-ready," He said nervously, looking up at Lassiter with the expression of a child that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
"Detective, what's going on?" The Chief demanded.
Lassiter looked her in the eye and said, "It's Spencer."
He turned his attention away from them while they reacted; he didn't need to see them to know what they felt. Juliet went deathly pale, Gus looked like he was going to faint, Vick had the same reaction Lassiter had, and Henry's eyes filled with the prospect of hope. He'd been a cop after all, and cops knew how most kidnappings ended. Most of them didn't have happy endings, and Henry wasn't one of the people to believe they could when statistics were so strongly against those hopes, even when it was his own son.
"Spencer!" Lassiter barked into the cellphone, "Are you there?"
"Y-yeah, Lassie, 'm here," the psychic replied, sounding shaken.
Lassiter looked at the others, they were all staring at him intently, before he went back to speaking with the kidnapped Spencer. "Spencer, can you tell where you are?"
"Uh-uh," Shawn mumbled a reply. Lassiter thought he could hear the low rumble of a car's engine in the background, and his guess was confirmed when Spencer told him he was in a white van and being taken somewhere.
"Can you tell me who abducted you?" Lassiter questioned, "Did you see their faces at all?"
"Yeah." Spencer answered through the sudden crackling static, "I- was kidna- in a blue ca- former cop- I- hole-," he wasn't able to finish because the line suddenly went dead.
"Damn!" Lassiter swore along with other choice curse words. He whirled around, fury etched into the lines of fatigue on his face, and faced the computer tech.
"What happened?" Vick demanded, not missing a beat.
"I lost the damn connection!" Lassiter growled, and then to the tech, "Did you trace it?"
Everyone was deathly silent and all five friends and family of Shawn Spencer stared at the tech, the combined force of their unwavering gazes matching that of an unstoppable train. The tech swallowed nervously, "I, uh... the call... it wasn't... wasn't long enough for me to trace..." He looked down at his lap guiltily.
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
"Lassie? Lassie!" Shawn called desperately for the detective who'd been on the line just moments before. He knew Bill couldn't hear him over the grumble of the car's engine and the crunching crackle of the gravel road so Shawn was free to panic.
"Nonononononono..." Shawn mumbled almost incoherently, the panic was consuming him now. This was his last chance at being rescued. He knew he wouldn't be alive long enough to get another chance like this.
Shawn dialed Lassiter's number with his nose another time, not knowing that the van was soon to arrive at it's final destination, and waited as it rang. He clenched and unclenched his fists bound behind him in frustration. Why did this have to happen to him? He was the unbeatable, and seemingly invincible, psychic detective after all. How could he have let this happen?
"SPENCER!"
Shawn let out a sigh of relief when he heard the voice shout in his ear. Now he knew for sure that Lassiter cared, and that meant there was no doubt that Lassiter would rescue him. Shawn just didn't know if the detective would get there soon enough.
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
They all heard Lassiter shout Shawn's name, and they all felt a swell of relief that was lost in an instant because just then they remembered just how dangerous this situation was. They all leaned toward the Head Detective eagerly, all of them thinking that Lassiter would be able to find Shawn. Lassiter was the Head Detective, after all, and if anyone could locate Shawn they knew he could.
"Spencer," Lassiter said for the second time, "I need you to stay on the line as long as possible. We're tracing the call right now." Lassiter glared pointedly at the computer tech, who scrambled to get started, not wanting to be the one to fail again.
Suddenly Lassiter shook his head, then, as if remembering that Shawn couldn't see him, he said, "No, we are going to find you." It sounded reassuring to the others' ears, but then he added, "I don't want to have this failure on my record."
Lassiter paused as Shawn talked, they couldn't hear what he said, but they knew it probably wasn't good. Lassiter's dark eyes narrowed, "No, it's not too late, Spencer, get that out of your head."
Juliet, sick of hearing only one side of the conversation, and wanting to hear Shawn's voice (not that she would admit that), motioned for Carlton to put the call on speakerphone. He did, and when everyone heard his voice for themselves a hard knot of fear formed in their hearts.
Shawn's words were garbled when he said, "'M bein' taken' to a house... inda ci'ee I think... He's gon' kill me..."
Gus, heart pumping erratically because of the sound of his best friend's voice, managed to hide his inner turmoil and make his voice sound calm when he asked, "Who's going to kill you, Shawn?"
"Gus?" Shawn asked, sounding dazed, "What're you doin' on Lassie's phone?"
"Who, Shawn?" Juliet interjected, attempting to get the psychic back on track. She was worried about him; he didn't sound good, and Juliet knew that meant he was injured. She only hoped that it wasn't too serious, and that he could hold on just a little while longer until they could find him.
"Al-zander," Shawn mumbled, confirming everyone's suspicions. They now knew for sure that Alexander Carmichael was their man. He was the one responsible for whatever was wrong with Shawn.
Henry couldn't keep silent anymore; his son's voice had gotten to him. He couldn't just ignore the signs; his son was injured and he needed help. Help that wouldn't arrive unless they could find him. Henry didn't think the kid at the computer would be much help in doing that. He had to get the answers they needed from Shawn.
"Shawn," Henry said sternly, earning glares from Gus and Juliet at his harsh tone, "what can you tell us about where they took you? What do you remember?"
"Mmmm..." Shawn paused for a moment, "The drive out took a lil' o'er an hour.. not too far... Goin' back to the ci'ee now... I think..."
Henry tried to squash his frustration at Shawn's lack of information; he knew his son wasn't in the best shape, but with his memory you'd think he would remember more than that tidbit. Instead of getting angry like he would've before this whole ordeal, Henry said something completely unlike himself, something reassuring, "Son, I know you. You'll be okay."
It wasn't much, but no one had expected Henry to stay calm. They'd expected him to blow up at his son. Admonish him for not telling them everything. Reassuring Shawn was the last thing they'd expected of him. It was like Henry telling Shawn "I love you" and giving him a hug, it was an outright show of affection for Henry.
Suddenly, without warning, the group heard a bang through Lassiter's cellphone. It wasn't a gunshot; that much they knew. It was like a metal-on-metal sound. With a start they realized it was a car door opening.
"He's coming," Shawn stated, shocked out of his dazed state by pure panic and adrenalin, "I-I can't stay on any longer. He'll find out, a-and take my phone."
"Spencer!" Vick shouted, "Don't hang up the phone!"
Then they heard a voice through the speaker, "Wha' the hell you doin', boy?"
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
Oh, shit.
That was all Shawn could think in that fear-filled moment when the back doors of the van were yanked open, banging against the car due to the strength they were pulled open with. Then Bill was standing in front of him, all anger and menace in his flannel shirt, overalls, and big dirty boots.
Shawn barely heard Bill speak at first, then all the emotions, words, and sensations came back to him. The fear, Bill's question, and the pain Shawn was feeling all rushing back in one staggering blow. Then Bill grasped his left arm, his bad arm, and tried to yank him out of the van. Shawn tried to kick Bill with his good leg, but it just caused him more pain as the movement jostled his right leg.
Shawn cried out against both Bill's pulling and the pain. He wished it would all stop, that none of this had ever happened, but he knew it couldn't be changed. The only thing he could do was delay the inevitable. The inevitable being his death, and Shawn had too much to live for to allow that to happen just yet.
It only barely occurred to Shawn that his father and friends could hear everything, that he hadn't hung up the phone just yet. He was a little busy trying to keep from being taken wherever it was that Bill was trying to bring him, but the fact that the phone was on wasn't lost on him. It meant that they might have had enough time to trace his call, and now that they'd reached their destination Jules and Lassie might be able to find him. He could be rescued, or at least he was a little closer to being rescued.
Lost in his own thoughts, Shawn didn't notice Bill pull his fist back, aiming for his head. He only noticed this in the few seconds before the moment of impact.
Bill's fist struck the side of his head, near his temple, and the pain was nearly blinding. Shawn saw spots fly across his vision, and he found that he could barely keep his eyes open. The only thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was thinking, Crap, that's gonna be one huge bruise, and then everything went black.
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO