Mmkay, I know I said that this would be a one-shot, but y'all inspired me. I'm going to write a chapter for a bunch of characters, all about the exact same event.

Thanks so much for everyone that reviewed! This story is WAY out of my comfort zone, so it means a lot :D

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I was at home when I found out. Actually, I was at home when it happened, too.

Why was at home, you wonder? I had a big presentation the next day-very important-and I told him that I couldn't go. Normally he'd get mad at me when I chose my 'real' job over Psych, but he didn't this time. I don't know why.

I wish he did.

If he had gotten mad at me, we would have fought. If we had fought, he would have won. If he had won, I would have gone with him. If I had gone with him, he wouldn't have died.

It's really pretty screwed up, isn't it? The whole situation.

Whoever you are, there's a good chance you have a best friend. Now imagine that that best friend—the one person in the entire world who really knows you—is ripped away from you in an instant. Imagine that right now, right this second, you get a phone call. You don't think it's anything special, just a phone call. But when you answer it there's a person on the other end telling you that your best friend, your brother, is dead.

First you won't believe it. Maybe you'll laugh, say that whoever it is needs to stop making jokes. Then you'll realize it isn't a joke. It's real. This person really thinks your best friend is dead. You'll rush to the hospital; ask the front desk for his room. Then they'll tell you that he's not in a room. He's in the morgue.

You still don't believe it. You run as fast as you can to the morgue. You don't even wait for the elevator: it's way too slow so you take the stairs. Then you see him. Bloody and broken on a slab of a table, covered by nothing but a sheet. Your friends are there—your family. You yell at them, "It's not him! Stop it! It's not funny! Where is he?" They look at you with pity. "He's gone", they tell you, "We're sorry".

Can you imagine that?

No. It's not something you can imagine. You can only know if it's happened to you. I could try to tell you what it feels like, but I'll never do it justice. The pain is unbearable. Indescribable.

He was my best friend in the entire world. I told him everything; he told me everything. I would do anything for him; he would do anything for me. I trusted him with my life. Even when he would be unbelievably obnoxious, I always knew he would be there for me.

Not anymore. Now he's gone, and I'm alone.

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"Burton Guster, how may I help you?" Gus answered his phone cheerfully. He was in a good mood; Shawn had let him stay behind today so that he could finish his presentation. He hadn't even complained. Gus didn't know it, but Shawn was actually a little relieved that Gus didn't want to go on what was sure to be an incredibly dangerous stakeout.

"Gus?" Juliet's voice came through the shifty connection. Maybe it was just the bad signal, but she sounded like she had been crying.

"Juliet? What's going on? Is everything okay?" Gus's voice was tinged with worry—he hadn't missed the sadness lacing his friend's voice.

"N-no, Gus. It's Shawn."

Gus felt his heart stop. "Is he okay?" He asked, but he knew the answer.

Juliet took a moment to answer. "He's gone, Gus."

"What? Where did he go? If he left again he's going to have to deal with me," Juliet wasn't fooled by Gus's words. He knew what she meant.

"He's dead, Gus. Shawn is dead," Juliet burst into fresh sobs at the words. Somehow saying them aloud made them so much more real.

Gus surprised Juliet by laughing out loud. Hysterical, desperate laughter. "He put you up to this, didn't he? Come on, let me talk to him."

Juliet started sobbing harder.

"I'm sorry, Gus. I'm so, so sorry." She lost it completely. So overcome with sobs, Juliet passed the phone off to Lassiter.

"Guster?" Even Lassiter's voice sounded sad.

"What's going on, Lassiter? Why does Juliet keep saying that Shawn is dead?"

"I'm sorry, Guster. He was taken to the county hospital ten minutes ago, even though there's no hope. Standard procedure," Lassiter's voice came out stoic—a mask to hide the pain that he was feeling at the loss.

Gus didn't reply. He just hung up the phone and sprinted to his car.

"What room is Shawn Spencer in?" Gus demanded of the lady behind the desk at the entrance of the emergency room. He had sped the entire way to get to the hospital. He was stopped once, but it turned out to be Buzz in the patrol car. He let him go with nothing but an 'I'm so sorry'.

The lady entered the name into her computer and came up empty. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's not in here."

"No! You're wrong! He has to be here! Shawn, spelled S-h-a-w-n."

She checked the computer again and her face immediately shone with sympathy.

"Shawn Spencer isn't in a room; he's in the morgue. I am so sorry."

Gus didn't hear her apology, he was already running. He sprinted to the elevator, slammed the 'down' button, waited about five seconds, and then decided to take the stairs.

He burst through the doors of the morgue. Lassiter, Juliet, Henry and the Chief were all there. And on the table…

"No," Gus whispered. On the table lay the body of Shawn Spencer. It was undeniably him. "No!" He screamed, "It's not him! Stop it! It's not funny anymore! Where is he?"

They all looked at him with pity. It was Juliet who spoke up, voice rough and shaky from crying. "I'm so sorry, Gus."

"Stop it! Stop saying you're sorry. You don't need to be sorry, it's not him!"

Lassiter walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "He's gone, Guster. He's dead. I'm sorry."

Gus began crying. He stared at the broken body of his best friend. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew it was true: Shawn Spencer was dead.

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Okay, so that was super sad. Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Please review guys! I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks :D