A/N: Just a friendly heads-up that this is an extra-long chapter at almost 6.4k words.

They only watched a few scenes of Ferris Bueller before Dahmer and Rhianna left the house. Gus listened to the beakers as the door closed: A motel room, a nice restaurant that does carry out, a key on a door frame, satisfaction.

They sat in silence as the car sputtered several times before finally turning on. Shawn sent a question: Two wires touching and sparking, headlights turning on.

"Yeah, he swapped cars when we were out, trying to keep the cops off of his trail."

A man in a green striped shirt pointing at a blue paw print excitedly.

"Well, that's a blast from the past… " Gus understood Shawn's hope; the longer Dahmer had them, the more clues the cops would be able to find to track them down. "I actually left a message in the last car, kinda. Let them know we were in a house. Maybe it'll help."

Shawn sat up straighter and pinged a question. Gus reluctantly answered, "I... drew a house with my blood…"

Shawn blinked in surprise before pointing up the best he could as he intoned a familiar set of sounds into his gag. Gus matched the gesture and returned the phrase, "I'm proud of you."

Shawn huffed a small laugh as they heard the car outside drive away. He sent a hopeful broadcast: Dahmer driving the stolen car to Gus' place only to get ambushed and arrested.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it," Gus answered with a small smirk. "I don't think they're just going to the apartment though. It looked like he was taking her to a hotel room? Then getting food. Because nothing says 'romantic' like eating Chinese in the car."

Shawn's eyebrows furrowed as he thought before he rolled his eyes: A shower head with orange water.

"Oh…" Gus said in realization. "You're right, that's probably why the motel. Too bad he didn't just ask what to do about that."

Shawn snorted: A frizzy haired witch, "What. An. Idiot."

"I knew you watched Harry Potter!" Gus grinned as Shawn's eyes widened in horror, "We are so marathoning them when we get out of here."

A young Goofy spiraling, "Kill me… Just kill me now!"

Gus' smile fell and he winced, "Too real, man."

Shawn raised his eyebrows and asked a short question into his gag.

"We're still here! Yes, it's too soon! It's sooner than soon, we're not even to 'soon' yet!"

Shawn pulled his head back in confusion: A book on grammar.

"Please, you think you can correct me on grammar?" Gus asked with a scoff, not really caring how much the conversation was jumping around. They were talking and that was good enough for him.

Shawn gave him a pointed look: A Labradoodle.

"Ok. One, Poodadore is just as legit as Labradoodle," Gus informed Shawn seriously. "Two, portmanteaus are more about morphology than grammar."

Shawn groaned before clicking at him, Gus smiled proudly at the reaction. They both fell quiet and Gus tried to think of how to fill the time.

"You know, you should probably try to get some sleep before tonight," he said, already knowing what Shawn's answer would be.

Shawn shook his head quickly: An ogre stopping a donkey from playing a music box, "No, no, nononono. No."

"I know…" Gus rolled his eyes at Shawn's amused snort, "but you're sick, you need rest."

Shawn shook his head again stubbornly before nodding towards Gus. Gus shook his head back, "I slept already."

Shawn sighed and gave him an annoyed look, but he didn't press his point, which Gus appreciated. He knew they couldn't avoid sleep and dreams forever, but he wasn't going to fight it if Shawn wanted to wait longer before dealing with them.

Though that did remind him of something he did have to deal with now. Gus took a deep breath, "Hey, you know how I knew that stuff about them?"

Shawn's eyebrows went down and he sent a memory: Gus looking at him with vacant eyes, hands reaching out towards his throat.

Gus shook his head frantically, "Oh, god no. Can you imagine them finding out about that and making me demonstrate with one of them?"

He shuddered, the tar and metal had been bad enough; he didn't want to know what being taken over by the void and breaking beakers would be like. Shawn made a noise of understanding and waited for him to continue.

Gus didn't really want to share this part of his psychic sense, but it was important that Shawn heard about it from him willingly and not when Dahmer made him say it. "When I sleep… When I've been around someone, I've dreamt about them. Their memories, their nightmares."

He waited as Shawn connected the dots before looking at him tentatively: Gus waking up in the car, grabbing at his throat and gasping for breath.

"Yeah, like that. I dreamed about the day you were shot. There was some other stuff too, stuff from my nightmares, stuff that just didn't make sense. But I saw… I experienced it." Shawn's thoughts jolted and Gus spoke quickly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know then and once I did figure it out, I just planned on not sleeping around people, I know you didn't want me to know any more about that day, seriously, I'm so sorry-"

Shawn cut off his babbled apology with a sharp noise. He made a negative noise with a head shake and sent a frustrated visual again: Robin Williams, "It's not your fault."

"I just… needed you to know it wasn't on purpose. And I needed you to know before them," Gus jerked his chin towards the stairs.

Shawn nodded in understanding before he stopped to think again. He sent a question with a visual of Lassiter.

"Yeah, that's when I figured out the pattern." Gus figured they were terrible at rules anyway, he could break his own rule to answer Shawn, "He was skating as a kid, fell through the ice, nearly drowned. I'm pretty sure that's where the snow globe thing started."

Shawn winced and sent a memory tinged in guilt: A desk full of snow globes.

"Yeah, that was definitely a dick move," Gus agreed.

Shawn answered with a series of visuals: Lassiter's computer screen showing porcelain dolls, a box sent from the ex-wife, shattered bits of porcelain in the gun range, the snow globes, a pistol.

Gus took a second to fully piece together the message, "Wait, you thought he'd like them because he could shoot them?" Shawn nodded his head with another ping of regret. Gus raised his eyebrows, "That's actually kind of sweet. In a seriously misguided and terribly planned way."

Shawn shrugged, not disagreeing with the assessment. Gus wasn't sure what to say next, so he just stayed quiet and looked around the room they were stuck in.

Shawn started to move, shifting around on his chair and wincing as he tried to get more comfortable: Numbing cream, a picture of a butt crack.

Gus barked out a surprised laugh and Shawn straightened up in pride. Gus rolled his eyes fondly, "Yes, my butt's numb too. Thank you so much for bringing it back to my attention."

A series of paper cuts, a desert of sand, an empty plate, a throat with a garrote around it, chicken pox all over the body, a repetitive ad, "Head on, apply directly to forehead."

"More like 'body on, apply directly to everything'," Gus sighed out, feeling every one of Shawn's images as well as the constant pain in his leg and arm. "Did you really have to mention the itching? Now I want to scratch my nose, you jerk."

Shawn sent a memory of scratching his nose.

Gus huffed another laugh, "Not actually that helpful, but thanks."

Shawn shrugged and they fell silent again. His hands started to fidget at the end of his armrests and he sighed: Beavis and Butthead on a couch, "This sucks."

"Yeah, I know. Wanna know what sucks even worse?" Shawn lifted his eyebrows, waiting for the answer. Gus finished his thought, "They're getting lunch."

Shawn showed the empty plate again and Gus clarified, "I know, I'm hungry too. But, that's not what I meant. Yesterday, we got arrested around lunchtime."

Shawn huffed when he understood: A clock, the sun going down and back up again. A page of statistics for kidnap victims who were missing for over twenty-four hours.

"Yeah…"

Logically, Gus knew that their survival chances didn't immediately change just because of an arbitrary time frame. He also knew their odds weren't great and they were only getting slimmer. He looked over at Shawn and could see that he was thinking the same thing.

Shawn's expression grew harder: A soldier with a ruined leg yelling at Tom Hanks, "Get away. Just leave me here! Get out!"

"You must be out of your damn mind," Gus snapped at him. "One, in case you forgot, we're both still tied to these chairs. I can't go anywhere. Two, even if I could get out, I'm not leaving you behind. Three, that movie was a terrible example because Gump didn't listen either."

Shawn snapped back, ranting behind his gag as his voice rose to a yell. He pulled roughly at his restraints with one last broken sound of frustration before slumping back while breathing heavily.

"Sorry," Gus said quietly, "I know you're doing the best you can."

Shawn closed his eyes and sighed. Gus tried to think of anything that could help; they were both clearly reaching the ends of their frayed mental ropes. "Twenty questions. What am I thinking?"

Shawn didn't even open his eyes as he answered: Pluto.

"Damnit…"

Shawn huffed a chuckle before opening his eyes and looking over: A picture of a shovel X-ed out.

"I won't cheat," Gus agreed. "Bigger than a breadbox?"

Shawn shook his head and broadcasted a number nineteen.

"It's a pineapple." Gus guessed.

Shawn shot him a look: Pineapple, green check mark, shovel.

"I didn't dig! It's not my fault that the first round is always obvious," Gus argued before thinking of his next thing.

A coffee pot.

"You're scary, you know that?"

Shawn huffed and answered with a ping that Gus swore felt like a mental smirk: Michael Jordan talking to cartoons, "Thanks guys, you got a lot of… a lot of… well, whatever it is, you got a lot of it."

Gus shrugged, "I'll take it. Got your next thing?"

Shawn nodded and Gus settled in, ready to lose another round of games.

Twenty questions morphed into 'who would you rather' which morphed into debating which actors would have completely changed a movie if they'd been recast. Shawn tried to play another movie, but his attention span was too shot to be able to get much further than a couple of scenes before it tapered off.

The silences between conversations stretched longer and longer before Gus finally called it quits, "Look man, you need sleep. We're both exhausted and I slept last, it's your turn."

Shawn whined and pulled his head up from where he'd been leaning it back to count ceiling tiles again. He hummed his response: Memories, all alone in the moonlight.

"I know, but I'll be right here when you wake up. And the bad guys are gone, I can be as loud as I need to be if you start to dream."

Shawn's eyebrows tightened and he looked away. Gus sighed, "I will sing the most annoying song I can think of until you agree. Don't make me do it, Shawn."

Shawn looked at him curiously and Gus decided a demonstration was in order. He started to sing, ignoring how it aggravated his already sore throat, "I'm sending out an SOS. I'm sending out an SOS. I'm sending out an SOS…"

Shawn snorted out a small laugh and spread his hands out: A stop sign, a door stop, a bottle stopper, a gobstopper, a short stop, a stopwatch, a stoplight.

Gus smirked and stopped singing, "Sleep, I'll wake you up if you have a nightmare."

Shawn sighed and dropped his head, letting his chin rest on his chest. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Gus knew he had been right in pushing Shawn to rest when he fell asleep within a few minutes. The ponging thoughts slowed until they were barely noticeable and Gus looked around, wishing he had a tv to watch or a book to read.

The sun streaming through the windows crawled slowly across the floor as Gus tried to keep his mind occupied, reciting spelling words and remembering tap dance choreography and trying to remember the study material for his next pharmaceutical test. He had to quickly abandon the last one when the thought of drugs made his heart race.

He had just started to test his memory of different types of train cars when the thoughts next to him grew louder and faster as Shawn started to dream. Gus didn't need to look to know it was a nightmare, the sounds were edged in static and Shawn was already shifting slightly in his chair as he made small noises behind his gag.

"Shawn, wake up, it's a dream," Gus tried to call out in a normal voice, not wanting to scare his friend any more than he already was. Shawn didn't hear him and Gus tried again, louder this time, "SHAWN! It's a dream, wake up!"

Shawn whined as his thoughts bounced frantically, still firmly locked in his nightmare. Gus took a second to double check that the bad guys were definitely not around before yelling at the top of his lungs, "SHAWN! WAKE UP!"

The words tore through his swollen throat and his voice cracked, but it did its job. Shawn woke up, his thoughts ponging frantically as he tried to move and found himself restrained by the zip ties and duct tape.

The ponging sounds suddenly stopped.

"Oh crap," Gus muttered as he focused as hard as he could to brace his shield.

He felt fire burning down his arm and through his body as he fought to keep his thoughts separate from the memory that Shawn was lost in. "Shawn! It's ok, it's just a memory, it's not real. It's over…"

Shawn didn't hear him as he screamed and fought desperately against his restraints, reliving the agony from the syringe.

Gus tried to think past the pain that was filtering through his shield; he had seen this sort of thing happen before, but Henry had always been nearby to talk Shawn back to the present. Gus tried to remember how he'd done it.

"Shawn! I need you to listen to me, I need you to focus." Gus tried to match Henry's inflections as well as his words, figuring every little bit helped. Shawn's voice died down to a whimper even as he continued to struggle. He looked around frantically, his unfocused eyes staring at Gus without actually seeing him.

Gus fought back his tears as he kept his voice steady and calm, "I know you can do this. Close your eyes and focus."

Shawn squeezed his eyes closed, his whole body shaking and twitching. Gus continued, forcing himself to focus on his friend instead of the fire, "Focus and think. What do you see?"

Shawn tried to gasp out a reply, his words and breath blocked by the duct tape over his mouth. He whined and started to jerk in panic, but Gus had been able to read the thought that he had tried to say.

"Ok, a kitchen counter, that's good. How many cabinets?"

Shawn breathing hitched as he gave another muffled reply. Gus didn't bother checking his answer, the fact that he was answering at all was good enough. He tried to think of a Henry-esque question to force Shawn to look closer at his memory, "Which one's used the most?"

The answer was a clear thought as Shawn mumbled it into his gag again. Gus nodded in encouragement, even though he knew Shawn couldn't see, "Good. Keep your eyes closed and keep focusing. What happened after?"

Shawn froze and he stopped breathing for several seconds before he answered tentatively, the pain began to fade. Gus sighed in relief and he dropped his Henry-impression, "Right, because it's a memory, it's done. I'm right here with you. You're not alone, you just gotta come back."

Shawn's body shook and his head hung low as he panted for breath and opened his eyes. Gus' heart ached as he asked quietly, "Are you back with me?"

Shawn nodded slightly and gave a muffled answer.

Gus wanted to apologize, he wanted to scream about how it was all unfair, he wanted to curl up and pretend like none of this had ever happened. He closed his eyes and took a measured breath before opening them again, "Exactly half of an eleven-pound black forest ham."

Shawn's eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he continued to stare at his knees.

"It's probably my favorite 'Gus don't be a…' that you've done. The crease in your elbow is easily the one I'm the most confused by. Still. Like, I still think about it sometimes and try to understand what made you say it."

Shawn huffed a small laugh and Gus took it as encouragement to keep going, "American adaptation of British Gus was pretty good too, but the 'don't be a gloomy you' was cheap, you could have done so much better."

Shawn turned his head slightly so he could look over and ping a question. Gus was pretty sure he knew what his friend was asking, "I don't remember all of them, but some of them stick out, you know?"

Shawn gave a small nod and his thoughts flared blue as he sent a small visual: Two puzzle pieces clicking together.

"Damn straight we are," Gus agreed.

Shawn closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, his shaking lessening as he continued to calm down. He sent a series of visuals with yearning: Juliet with her eyes sparkling, Lassiter baring his teeth in annoyance, Henry giving a soft glare, Vick hiding a smile. Gus reaching out for a fist bump.

Gus sighed, "I know, I want to go home too."

Car doors opened and closed, and Shawn looked over in exhaustion: Harrison Ford in a trash compactor, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Gus nodded encouragingly, "It's gonna be ok."

Shawn snorted and turned to watch the door.

Dahmer didn't leave them waiting long as the front door opened and two pairs of feet walked into the house. His voice carried down the stairs, "I need to prepare a few things first, just give me a few minutes and I'll let you know when they're ready."

"You promise you won't ask any questions until I'm down there?" Rhianna sounded happy. Gus hoped she'd get food poisoning.

"I promise they won't say a word until then, pet," Dahmer promised with a dark edge to his voice.

Gus sighed and resigned himself to being a mute prisoner again. He wasn't going to risk Shawn getting hurt unless it was for a very good reason.

Shawn answered with a small memory: Sitting in the interrogation room, "Fergulous."

Gus smirked slightly, feeling an unreasonable amount of relief at the small joke. He looked over and whispered as quietly as he could, "It's still not a word."

Shawn's eyes crinkled in amusement before turning serious again as he looked back towards the bad guys.

Gus watched as Dahmer made his way down the stairs, and he felt tentatively hopeful when he saw the crutch held under the bad guy's arm. He had made it to the apartment, which meant there should be medicine coming.

Dahmer propped the crutch up against the wall and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler set in the kitchenette. He dug around in his jacket's pockets as he approached Gus and pulled out a pill bottle, holding it up so the label was visible. Gus nodded; it was the right bottle at least.

He really didn't like having to trust that Dahmer hadn't tampered with the pills, but it wasn't like he had any choice. Dahmer opened the bottle and shook out a tablet, holding it up to Gus' lips. Gus opened his mouth and took the pill, hating how helpless being hand-fed made him feel. He swallowed the medicine dry before the water bottle was brought up to his lips and he drank greedily, the cool water soothing his sore throat.

Dahmer took the bottle away before it was even half-empty, Gus had to stop himself from whining and asking for more. Dahmer grinned as he caught his eye and turned towards Shawn, still not saying a word. The silence grated against Gus' nerves and he watched in worry as the bad guy approached his friend.

Dahmer gave Shawn a warning look before peeling his gag partially off, leaving it stuck to one side of his cheek. He quickly gave him his pill and a few sips of water before pressing the duct tape back into place.

He finally spoke, "Rhianna will be down here soon, so let me remind you…" He moved his hand quickly, covering the bottom half of Shawn's face and plugging his nose. Shawn immediately started fighting to try and pull away from the hand cutting off his air supply, but Dahmer reached out with his other hand and grabbed the back of his head, holding him in place.

He looked over at Gus and spoke calmly as Shawn struggled, his face turning red, "I held up my end of the deal, now it's your turn. You will tell us everything, no more holding back. You will answer any question posed to you, quick, clear and thorough. You will remember your place and only speak when spoken to. Any deviation from that and he pays. Nod if you understand."

Gus nodded quickly, his eyes locked on Shawn's face as his friend's movements became more frantic, pulling and kicking without any regards to his injuries.

"You're not answering him, you're answering me," Dahmer reminded in a quiet growl.

Gus immediately looked at Dahmer and nodded again, not bothering to hide the terror he was feeling. It was what Dahmer wanted, after all. Gus would give him whatever he wanted if it made him stop.

Dahmer grinned, his beakers cracking in delight as he maintained eye contact while Shawn's struggles grew weaker under his hands. He spoke slowly, as if savoring the words, "Remember, his life is only worth something if you cooperate. So be a good boy."

He waited for Gus to nod again before finally dropping his hands. Shawn gasped desperately for breath, his thoughts edging with static as his chest hitched for more air than he could get through his nose. Gus kept an eye on him in his peripheral vision as he turned to watch Dahmer, not wanting to risk another demonstration if the bad guy decided he wasn't paying enough attention.

"Rhianna, darling, you can come down now," Dahmer called up the stairs. He brought out his scalpel and placed it on the counter before crossing his arms and leaning back.

Gus swallowed against the small rush of additional fear at the gesture; they were past using scratches to keep him in line.

Rhianna quickly trotted down from where she'd been listening at the top of the steps, her notebook already open and ready. Dahmer smiled at her fondly before turning back to Gus, his smile turning as hard as his voice as he ordered, "Speak. What did you hide from us?"

Gus answered, his voice flat, "If I sleep near someone, I dream about them. Memories, nightmares, personal stuff. Last night, after the lab, my dreams had stuff from both of you."

"More subconscious…" Rhianna looked at him with interest. "This has happened every time you've slept near someone?"

"Every time since my abilities started showing," Gus answered her.

"Jeffery! We need to do a sleep lab!" Rhianna grinned as she wrote frantically, "What he feels when he's awake almost overshadows where the signal is actually being processed, but if we can remove the interference…"

Dahmer's eyes narrowed and he ignored her excited chatter as he walked up to Gus, the void tinged in suspicion, "Convenient, isn't it? Something that would require much more time to study... Prove it, what did you see?"

Gus glanced nervously at Rhianna before meeting the crazy blue eyes again. He knew he needed to answer, but he also didn't want to risk saying something that Dahmer didn't want his lady to hear. He answered carefully, "I saw you when you were younger, with your family."

Dahmer set his jaw, his suspicion growing, and Gus realized he'd made the wrong call. He spoke quickly, trying to fix his mistake before Shawn paid for it, "I saw your father when he was angry, I saw your mother try to stop him, I saw him keep hitting her even when she was down. I saw you in the hospital with her, when they told you she wouldn't be able to come home. And I saw you with the steak knife, when you made your father pay."

Gus kept his eyes on Dahmer and waited, hoping the answer was what he'd been looking for. The suspicion faded and Dahmer had a rare moment of hesitation before he turned away to look at Rhianna. She looked back at him, staring like she'd never seen him before. The smell of lilies drifted back into being, tinted with sympathy and understanding.

Gus thought he was going to be sick.

Shawn sent a small song, letting him know he wasn't alone in his disgust: Tainted love.

Gus tried to twitch his lips into a small smile to let Shawn know he'd heard, but he wasn't sure if he'd actually succeeded. Rhianna quickly looked back down at her notes and the cracking beakers glowed with hope.

She cleared her throat and thought out-loud, "Clearly we send out more signals than he's able to consciously process, but the information is still being stored and processed subconsciously… The question is whether or not that's due to his abilities being acquired… But how would that translate?" She looked at Shawn and chewed her lip as her electrodes pulled quickly.

Dahmer answered thoughtfully, "There was a man who claimed to be able to see the future when he shook someone's hand. You should have seen his face when we- Never mind. He said it was like opening his mouth and being just as surprised as the other person when the words started coming out…" He looked at Gus and asked, "Is that how it is for the congenital's visions?"

Shawn sent a ping of uncertainty and trust before offering a memory: A battle of wits with a federal agent, "They get to use me as a vessel for their visions, but I get to pick when and where I have them."

Gus thought quickly, wondering if that would answer Dahmer's question without raising too much suspicion. "He says he can control when and where he has a vision, but once it starts it's similar to what that man said."

"I hope he'll be able to have a vision tonight…" Rhianna tapped her pen against her notebook before asking Gus, "Is there anything else?"

Gus thought about when he'd gone too deep into Agent Wright's mind and lost control. He thought about how he'd had similar experiences with speaking before he knew what he was going to say. He thought about how Shawn didn't actually have visions. He refused to let his voice shake as he lied, "No, that's it."

She nodded and closed her notebook, "I need to think…" She looked at Dahmer and hesitated, her smell of lilies tinting with optimism, "I've found that walks can sometimes help make ideas clearer. You mentioned a trail around a lake?"

Dahmer's face brightened and Gus could almost see what he would have been like if that scared and grieving young man in his dream hadn't snapped and become a killer. "It is absolutely gorgeous; you're going to love it. Shall we?"

They made their way up the stairs and out of the house, leaving Shawn and Gus behind like a tv they forgot to turn off.

Shawn huffed: Rhianna and Dahmer cocooned in rope and tossed off of a cliff into the ocean.

"No kidding…" Gus sighed and let his head hang low, taking a deep breath to try to recover from the latest moments of adrenaline-rushing terror. He felt like the weight of the entire house was resting on his shoulders and he was keeping it off of him and Shawn by sheer force of will alone.

And his will was starting to crack.

A ghostbuster standing in a ruined ballroom, "That wasn't such a chore, now, was it?"

Gus shook his head with a dry chuckle, "Dude, I should be the one telling you it's ok, you're the one who…" He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting back tears, "I'm sorry. It should be my turn to be making jokes or arguing or… whatever. I just, I can't. I'm so done."

Shawn made a sharp sound to get his attention. Gus opened his eyes and looked over, knowing he owed his friend that much at the very least. Shawn met his gaze with an intense look, as if determination and resilience and stubbornness could be transferred through eye contact alone. He nodded with a reassuring series of sounds before finally sending a broadcast: A young man dancing in front of a microphone, "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down."

Gus' jaw dropped and he stared as Shawn's eyes started to crinkle in amusement. He finally found his voice, "Did you… Did you just rick roll me?!"

Shawn finally lost his fight against his giggles and started to laugh. Gus shook his head, unable to stop himself from laughing with him, "I cannot believe you!"

Shawn broadcasted an argument: Gus, the number one.

"I did not do it first! We were humming annoying songs, it fit!" Gus tried to get control of his laughter, knowing if he didn't it would probably turn to tears.

Shawn breathed heavily through his nose as his giggles died down. He sent a memory: He sat down on the couch in the Psych office with his candy ready, his smoothie in reach, and his best friend by his side. It was time for a movie night.

Gus shook his head, "Don't wear yourself out, it's fine."

Shawn stubbornly continued the memory: He pressed play on the remote and the movie started. He sank back into the couch and grabbed his smoothie, taking a loud slurp and enjoying the cool, sweet drink as the movie opened on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie sitting in marriage counseling.

"Alright, fine, that's appropriate." Gus closed his eyes and watched the movie with Shawn, taking comfort in two married spies trying to kill each other as their real-life bad guys enjoyed their date.

The small bubble of safety didn't seem to last long before Dahmer and Rhianna came back through the door, chatting a mile a minute at each other. There was the sound of clinking plates and a loud laugh before the stairs creaked again and the bad guys entered the basement.

Gus wasn't sure which one made him feel sicker, the over seasoned cold noodles that they were fed again, or the bubbly chatter from Rhianna as she watched Dahmer tend to his captives.

Gus figured he could at least take some comfort in the fact that Shawn was able to drink the whole water bottle this time. Or the fact that they'd apparently been good enough to 'earn' food in the first place.

Dahmer finished feeding Shawn and pressed on a new gag before going to the kitchen counter to pick up his scalpel. Gus tensed as he watched the knife, wondering if Dahmer would use it in front of his girlfriend. He could see Shawn shifting nervously out of the corner of his eye.

Dahmer smirked at their reactions as he pulled out his gun and offered the knife to Rhianna, "Could you be a dear and release the congenital? I'm afraid he's not quite housebroken enough to trust him in the car."

Shawn's thoughts flared in indignation and the beakers cracked in glee. Dahmer grabbed the crutch and tossed it to the floor in front of Shawn before moving behind Gus and pressing the gun against his head, "I wouldn't get any ideas if I were you."

"Jeffery," Rhianna looked over in disapproval. Dahmer sighed good naturedly and shifted the gun, so it was pointing towards Gus' good knee, "Is that better, darling?"

"Yes, thank you," she said with a smile before walking briskly to Shawn and cutting his restraints. Gus noticed that she cut the bloody zip ties without actually looking at them.

Shawn sent a wistful broadcast: Grabbing the knife, holding Rhianna hostage, Gus being let go, a ride home in a smoothie cart.

Gus met his eyes and gave him a slight head shake. A knife in a gun fight was rarely a good idea, and with Shawn's broken leg, even Rhianna could take him down with minimal effort.

Rhianna finished her task and handed the knife back to Dahmer without a second thought.

Shawn leaned down and carefully picked up the crutch before getting to his feet, his face turning white at the movement. He paused to catch his breath and Dahmer spoke calmly, "You don't have enough time to be wasting it. Bathroom. Now."

He rested the scalpel against Gus' cheek and tapped it gently in warning. Shawn watched the knife and started moving again, limping his way to the door under the stairs.

"Will we have to wait for the acquired to go too?" Rhianna asked as she checked her watch. Gus grumpily wondered if it was worth it to go to the bathroom right then and there, just to spite them and make Dahmer have to clean up the mess. He knew it was a terrible idea, but he thought about it anyway.

"I'm sure he'll be fine until we get back," Dahmer answered with a little giggle. "Would you mind going into my bag and finding the cuffs? We'll take the congenital now, by the time we get to the lab it will be dark enough."

Rhianna smiled and went to the bag, rummaging around past her purse and duct tape and first aid supplies to find the metal handcuffs. Shawn exited the bathroom and immediately looked over to check on Gus before noticing the small woman walking towards him. She held out the cuffs expectantly and Shawn started to reach for them before stopping to look at Dahmer for instructions.

Gus could feel the satisfaction in Dahmer's thoughts as he answered the look, "Your hands can stay in front so you can use your crutch. Remember that it is a privilege, not a right. If you don't behave, you'll have to walk without it."

Gus wondered if anything was actually a right for them. Apparently, food, water, and bathroom breaks were all privileges as well.

Shawn nodded and took the cuffs, putting them on as he sent Gus a broadcast: Keanu getting ready to climb out of a bus, "Don't worry, I won't go far."

Gus could only look back, not daring to even nod with the knife next to his face.

"Rhianna, the car's open. Could you pop the trunk, please?" Dahmer asked nicely before addressing Shawn with growled orders, "You, up the stairs, wait for me at the door."

Gus figured he could at least be proud of the fact that he was the reason Dahmer was being so careful this time around. He didn't feel very proud, though, as he had to sit still and just watch as Shawn struggled up the stairs with both of his hands wrapped around the crutch instead of being able to use the handrails.

Shawn stopped once he reached the landing and Dahmer tapped Gus' face again with the scalpel, "Try not to get into too much trouble while we're gone." He giggled to himself as he grabbed his bag and walked up the stairs, his gun trained on Shawn. "Out. Now."

There was a click and the lights went out, leaving Gus sitting alone in a dim room that would only be getting darker. He closed his eyes and listened to the clicking thoughts of his friend and hoped that he'd stay safe and that they'd see each other again.

Police surrounded the yellow house in the dark. Lassiter and Juliet took their places on either side of the front door, bulletproof vests on and guns out. Henry came up behind them, fitted in his own vest. Juliet shook her head at Lassiter, cutting off the argument he was about to start; there wasn't a thing on earth that would keep Henry from joining them on this rescue mission.

Lassiter grimaced and made eye contact with the older Spencer before pointing at the spot right behind him, the order silent and clear: 'stay behind me'.

Henry nodded and Juliet pretended not to notice the clear outline of a gun in his pocket.

Lassiter counted down from three before kicking the door open and hollering out, "SBPD, come out with your hands in the air!"

They were met with silence and they moved onto a small landing with stairs leading both directions. Juliet crinkled her nose at the faint smell of blood and she caught Lassiter's eye. He nodded; they were in the right place. Henry found a light switch and clicked it on, the stairway and basement suddenly flooding with light.

Lassiter used hand signals to direct a second team upstairs before he took point and led them to the basement. They quickly cleared the room and small side bathroom before putting away their weapons and approaching the two empty chairs that were bolted to the floor.

They were too late.