Gus stayed as far back as possible, pressing himself into the trunk walls and keeping his eyes closed. Shawn needed the space more than him; he was more hurt and, somehow, still less broken. Shawn needed someone who was stronger, someone who wasn't absolutely terrified, someone who was still willing to fight. Shawn needed someone else to watch his back.

"Hey, buddy, are you still with me?"

Of course he was still there, where else could he be? Shawn was stuck with him. Almost literally right now, with their bodies pressed together. Shawn probably could have escaped so many times if it wasn't for him. Shawn had managed to escape his last few kidnappers by himself…

"Gus, come on man, I need you to talk to me here…"

His gag was off. Shawn deserved to be kidnapped with someone who would notice that their gag was off.

"Fuck… Please don't freak out."

He heard a small jingle of a chain and felt Shawn moving next to him. A warm hand found the back of his neck. And nudged his collar.

Gus flinched back and the hand immediately retreated, but it was too late. He couldn't breathe. It wasn't even moving, but he could feel it choking and pulling and bringing him to his knees and…

"Get it off," Gus gasped out, his hands moving up to grab behind his neck.

"Wait, wait, Gus, don't-"

Gus could feel the buckle, but he couldn't reach right to undo it. He begged, "Please get it off."

"I wish I could. Gus, listen to me."

Gus shook his head as his hands frantically pulled at his collar, his voice growing louder as he said the only thing that mattered, "Get it off, get it off, getitoffgetitoff…"

"Shit. Gus, stop!"

Hands covered his hands, trying to stop him. He fought them, they didn't understand. "GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFFGETIT-"

Lips pressed against his and the world stopped, frozen as he tried to recalibrate to understand what was happening. The hands came back to hold his hands, moving them down and away from his neck. His brain worked overtime, cataloging all of the strange sensations: stubble rough against his chin, warm breath on his cheek, lips soft against his. Shawn pulled back gently and the only sound in the trunk was their panting breaths.

Gus' lips tingled and he said the only thing he could think of. "You kissed me."

"Hey buddy, welcome back." Shawn's voice was gentle, his thoughts were quiet.

"You kissed me."

"Sorry. I needed you to stop and I didn't want to- it was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't freak you out more."

Gus' brain was having a hard time keeping up. "But… you kissed me."

Shawn sighed, "Yes. I needed to calm you down. You are calm. We can move on."

"... I need it off."

"I know." Shawn's voice sounded pained, and Gus wondered where his thoughts were, why they were so quiet. "But I can't. It's going to have to go just as tight as the first time to take it off. And we'd have to put it back on again. I'm sorry, I can't."

Gus whined. It made sense, he knew it made sense. He still needed it off.

"Hey, no one's gonna touch it while you're in here, alright? You're safe-" Shawn scoffed quietly and his thoughts grew louder before quieting again. He continued evenly, "I can't promise you much, but for the next half an hour, I promise you're safe."

Gus forced himself to take deeper breaths, to acknowledge that he could still take deep breaths. He trusted Shawn, he had Gus' back. Gus wished he could have Shawn's back better.

Shawn sighed at the silence. "Ok, I guess it's monologue time. You know that everything he says out of that asshole he calls a mouth is complete crap, right?"

Gus wondered if it was actually crap if he had agreed with it.

"Remember last night? When he told me that you had run for it and that's why- That wasn't all he said. He said that you ran because you didn't care that I'd get the punishment."

Gus felt his focus lock onto the conversation, "He said what?!"

"I told you. Crap," Shawn said adamantly. "He said the same basic bullshit after you risked speaking up to get me food, too. Which, just… logic. It's not there."

Gus huffed a small laugh, feeling the shreds of his control start to knit back together.

"Right? It's shit. Like you said, it's all mind games. It doesn't mean anything. You remember what matters?"

Gus hesitated before answering quietly, "We're alive, we're together…"

"And we got each other's backs," Shawn finished for him. "That's it. Anything else just gets flushed down the shitter."

Gus frowned, trying to make things align so they made sense again. "But it wasn't him, I-"

"If I'm not allowed to say that I got myself gagged then you're definitely not allowed to think that meant anything," Shawn interrupted him firmly. "He made you, it wasn't actually you."

"I… I should know that, right?" Gus tried to sort his thoughts. The lack of ponging sounds was off putting. "I mean, it's obvious. It shouldn't be screwing with me like this…"

Shawn let out a chuckle, a weak and broken sound. "Dude, this whole thing has been a mind screw. Something's gotta get you eventually."

"Is that why you're trying to hide what you're thinking?" Gus asked, knowing he was right.

"...No," Shawn answered unconvincingly. "You had that whole psychic thing and then that other stuff and I didn't want it to be too loud."

Gus was sure that it said something about their friendship when arguing helped him feel more like himself. "Your thoughts help, they're never too loud. I know you're hiding something. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine, just tell me not to dig. You don't have to hide it."

Shawn hesitated before his thoughts suddenly bounced back into existence, radiating guilt. The question was on the tip of Gus' tongue, but he didn't ask. Shawn answered anyway, "You should have been at the house."

"What, why… Oh." Gus suddenly understood Shawn's logic.

"If I hadn't fought, he wouldn't have brought you with, and you'd be on your way to a hospital by now. Everything in the lab," Shawn shifted, pulling away slightly, "that was my fault."

Gus sighed; apparently, they were both screwed up right now. And, for some reason, knowing he wasn't the only one made it easier to deal with. He pushed everything else away and focused on Shawn. "Ok. Let's say that happened. I listened to you get taken away, I sat wondering if I was ever going to see you again, I got rescued. Where would that leave you?"

"A lot closer to getting rescued, you'd know where they were taking me," Shawn answered immediately. Gus realized he'd been thinking about this for a while.

"Ok, what about before the cops come? Cuntshit doesn't split his focus, so you get all of his crap. Bitchshit doesn't get distracted by your broadcasts, so she asks for more visions… How many did you actually have figured out?"

"Three," Shawn admitted, "and the last one was a 50/50 shot."

Gus continued to make his point. "And the cops still wouldn't have gotten to you before Jack came along. You're telling me you wouldn't have yelled if I wasn't there as incentive to keep you quiet?"

"Ok, not your best point since he's stuck with us now and is probably gonna die too," Shawn retorted.

"Any of those scenarios, you get hurt more than you already are. Possibly killed." Gus swallowed against the belt on his throat. "We're alive, we're together, we got each other's backs. I don't blame you. You shouldn't either."

"But it was a stupid risk, I knew it was a long shot. I should have at least waited-"

"By that logic, everything you've gone through since being arrested is my fault," Gus countered.

Shawn's thoughts jolted in surprise. "How on earth does that make sense?"

"At the station, I got myself arrested with you," Gus answered. "It was stupid, and a long shot, and I should have waited for bail and court like a normal person. Then he wouldn't have grabbed you. He wanted both of us, he needed me. So, it's my fault."

"That… is terrible logic," Shawn argued.

"Yeah, it is," Gus agreed, waiting for Shawn to get the point.

"... Ohhhh."

Gus smirked. There it was.

Shawn thought for a few seconds, his guilt fading slightly. Gus wasn't expecting it to go away, he still wasn't feeling all that great about the moment in the parking lot either, but at least it was better.

He tried to think of a way to lighten the mood; they only had a short time to be themselves and he needed to feel normal. Or, as normal as he could with the dark red cracking thoughts from the front of the car hanging over them.

"So… Just to be clear; we're not actually dating, right?" Gus asked in a conversational tone.

Shawn barked out a laugh and promptly stifled it, giggling quietly. Once he was in control, he informed Gus seriously, "Do you know how many people actually get plans for a second date from me? You are in the elite few."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel very elite," Gus answered, just as seriously. "You took Gina on more than one date."

"Mm, yeah. Good point. I should probably check with Jules too before agreeing to any more dates. So, I guess we're just friends with kissing benefits?"

"Nope, no more kissing," Gus declared.

Shawn thought for a second before asking, "What if I need to do CPR?"

"Rescue breathing isn't kissing. That is acceptable."

"What if a snake bites you on the lip?"

"You aren't supposed to suck out venom, so no."

"What if I have food poisoning?"

"Why on earth would I kiss you if you had food poisoning?!"

"So I don't have to suffer alone?"

"Gross. No."

Shawn sighed, "So, what I'm hearing is… friends with no kissing benefits."

"Yes, that's what I'm saying," Gus agreed.

There was a beat of silence and Shawn sighed again, louder.

"What?" Gus asked.

Shawn answered sadly, "He doesn't even have good comedic timing… that would have been the perfect time to slam on the-"

The car braked suddenly and they were thrown into each other, a loud thunk sounding out as Shawn hit the back of the trunk. He gasped and squeaked out, "Shit!"

Gus pulled away and shuffled back the few inches he could, giving Shawn as much space as possible. "Easy, you're ok."

"'Ok' can go fuck itself," Shawn snarled out as he breathed through the pain. "I guess we're out of the city if he thinks he can get away with that crap again."

Gus sighed, "I guess we better get ready for a bumpy ride."

"Great," Shawn groaned, "I bet this car has terrible springs."

Gus corrected him automatically, "That's shocks"

"I've heard it both ways."

"No you haven't."

"Someday you're going to be the one who's heard it both ways and oh will the tables turn…" Shawn said weakly.

"Yes, because I'm known for using phrases incorrectly and mispronouncing words and… Oh wait, no I'm not," Gus pointed out with fake smugness, wishing he could do more to help.

Shawn argued back, "Yeah, well, less than a week ago I thought psychics weren't real. So, at this point, anything can happen."

"Shh," Gus hissed frantically, "Don't say that."

"He's going to kill me anyways," Shawn snapped, "Why not rub it in his fugly-ass face that half of his stupid data is from fakes."

"Because that defeats the whole 'we're alive' part of the deal," Gus snapped back.

Shawn sighed and his anger left as fast as it had appeared. "Sorry, I guess it might be my turn for a-"

The car hit a pothole and they bounced around again. Gus' leg hit the lid of the trunk and he had to bite back a yelp as pain flared out from his bullet wound.

"You know…" Shawn said after he caught his breath, "I used to hear about how being shot was all about the shock and the wound would actually go numb after a bit…"

"Talk about bullshit," Gus bit out as the pain died back down to basic agony.

"Right?! That's what I said," Shawn agreed. He suddenly let out a small, huffed laugh. "I guess I should apologize…"

"Why? Are you the one who shot me?" Gus grumbled as he felt the side of his face grow wet from the blood dripping out of his re-opened cut.

"Nah," Shawn answered, "but I think I jinxed it. We were just talking about how you'd never been shot, like… four days ago?"

Gus thought back, trying to place the conversation. "Oh yeah, we did… Great, you also said I'd never had surgery..."

Shawn pinged a mental shrug and answered out-loud, "On the bright side, if you get surgery then that means you made it to a hospital."

"Or that means…" Gus swallowed hard as he thought about Dahmer's promise of stitches, "Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Oh no," Shawn said quickly, "If you couldn't be sick in the truck you definitely can't be sick in here."

Gus tried to pull away from the spiraling thoughts of needles and surgery and everything Dahmer could still do to them. He managed to gasp out, "Subject change, now."

"So, have you heard about the Seabirds?" Shawn asked immediately.

"The baseball team or the actual birds?" Gus managed to ask back.

"Uh… crap. I hadn't actually thought that far into the conversation."

Gus tried to chuckle, but it came out as a rough cough. He winced at the pain in his throat and continued as if nothing had happened. "You never do…"

"Yeah," Shawn agreed, his thoughts clicking in concern, "but I usually don't blank like that. It's weird, is that what it's like to be normal?"

Gus gave an exhausted shrug, "I wouldn't know."

"Way to own it," Shawn said with a hint of pride. "So, what do you think of the new guy?"

"I think he's-" Beakers cracked in dark amusement and Gus was moving before he realized what his plan was. "Brakes!"

He grabbed Shawn's arm and pulled while angling himself back, effectively pulling Shawn's torso on top of his. The car stopped suddenly and they were thrown into the trunk wall, both of their shoulders taking the hit instead of Shawn's back.

"Nice reflexes," Shawn said right next to Gus' ear, "good thing bodies are so bendy…"

"Yeah, need to breathe now…" Gus gasped out, patting Shawn's arm as a prompt to move back off of him.

Shawn rolled back as Gus scooted into his previous position. He kept an ear on the beakers as they both took a few seconds to catch their breath. Shawn spoke up first. "Thanks."

"No problem," Gus giggled slightly, "gotta watch your back."

Shawn froze before snorting. "That was terrible. You should be ashamed of that joke."

"You're right," Gus said, trying to fight back another snicker, "I'd back up time, if I could, to take it back."

Gus could clearly imagine the exasperated look Shawn was sending his way as he asked, "Are you proud of yourself?"

"Yes, yes I am," Gus said proudly. "And that reminds me, I'm proud of you."

"Why?!" Shawn asked in surprise.

"I mean, lots of reasons." Gus started to tick them off of his mental list. "You kept yourself calm with the needle, you focused and controlled your thoughts for over an hour, you saved my life twice in the lab alone, you still managed to focus and figure out where the new place is, and you got a message out."

"Well, if that's what we're doing, then I'm proud of you," Shawn answered back. "You stayed calm when I would have been flipping out, you 'sales reptituded' me an actual splint, you figured out where we were going even after the whole psychic overload thing, and you came up with a plan on the fly that didn't get us dead."

"...Huh." Gus was surprised at Shawn's list; he hadn't felt like he'd done much at the lab. "We got each other's backs."

"Exactly," Shawn said in approval. "So, what was the psychic thing anyway?"

"Rhianna snapped," Gus answered simply, "I always thought that was a figure of speech, but her mind literally snapped and I felt it. She feels different now, like him."

"Well that's disturbing…"

"Extremely," Gus agreed. He felt the voids pulling in the front of the car and thought about how many times he'd been close to snapping in the last few days. How easily he could have become like them. He could feel the belt tight on his throat as he spoke quietly. "Thank you for keeping me sane."

"Right back atcha, buddy," Shawn said, even quieter. He moved his hands to gently cradle the back of Gus' head and pull him into a forehead-hug. Gus sighed and relaxed into the comfort as he reached out to squeeze Shawn's shoulder, being mindful of where he knew the cuts were under the lab coat.

They stayed still for a minute, soaking in the closeness and safety of being together, and of not having to fight for their lives for a short while. Gus heard the beakers crack in anticipation and warned, "Pothole."

They braced themselves the best they could, and Gus felt the car swerve before they were thrown around again. Shawn let out a breath once the ride smoothed back out. "Ouch…"

"Sorry," Gus sighed out as he breathed through his own aches and pains.

"Don't be, it would have been even more ouch without the warning. That's handy."

Gus snorted. "At least being able to feel him constantly is good for something…" The taste of blueberry pancakes glowed slightly red, and Gus sighed. "And to answer your question from earlier, I like the new guy. He seems decent."

"Yeah… he has questionable choices in friends though," Shawn pointed out.

"True. I guess you can't win them all." Gus tried to estimate how much time they'd been in the trunk. "So we've got, what, ten minutes left to be human? What do you wanna do?"

Shawn grumbled, "Don't say that."

"It's true."

"Sure, but it doesn't mean you have to say it…" Shawn sighed before continuing with a forced light tone, "I was thinking we should rearrange the Psych office."

Gus huffed a small laugh at the topic before picking up his part of the script. "I've told you before and I'll tell you again, we aren't moving my desk. It's in the perfect spot and everything is right where I like it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just hear me out… What if we moved your desk?"

"Shawn!"

"We could put our desks together and make a super desk!"

"Your desk is filthy, my desk is pristine. Our desks stay kosher, they don't touch!"

"But think of how much more room we'd have!"

"No, absolutely not."

They continued to bicker, taking solace in their precious few moments of normalcy before they had to face reality again.

Gus was able to predict three more potholes before the car suddenly turned and the road grew rough.

Shawn sighed, "We're almost there."

Gus tried to suppress his body's shaking as he said quietly, "Yeah, I figured."

"One more kiss for the road?" Shawn asked in a cheeky voice.

Gus reached out and felt along the side of Shawn's face to find his ear before tapping it with the back of his fingernail, a gentle approximation of an ear flick. Shawn snickered and Gus rolled his eyes. "I love you like a brother, not like that."

"Technically, we are brothers now, so that just makes it weirder," Shawn informed him cheerfully.

"Oh great," Gus grumbled, "just what you need, more weirdness."

"I feel like you were trying to insult me, but I take that as a compliment," Shawn said while sending a mental smirk. There was a moment of silence before he moved and gently squeezed Gus' shoulder. "You gonna stay with me?"

Gus let out a shaky breath. "I wouldn't be able to watch your back very well if I didn't."

He couldn't promise that he wouldn't freak out again, but he was going to do his best to fight it. Shawn needed him, and that was all there was to it. He couldn't freak out.

Gus tried to offer hope as a fact, but it came out more like a prayer. "They'll get the message, they'll come."

"We just gotta last a little longer until they get here," Shawn agreed. "What's important?"

"Alive, together, backs," Gus answered with a small smirk.

Shawn huffed a laugh at the abbreviated phrases. "And everything else is bullshit."

"Right down the shitter," Gus added on, hoping it would stay in his mind.

The car turned suddenly and stopped, jostling them around. The car door opened and Shawn's hands moved quickly off of Gus' shoulder as he muttered out an emphatic, "Fuck!"

"Fuck," Gus agreed, fumbling quickly for his own gag as the car door slammed shut. He pressed the tape back over his mouth and moved his hands quickly down and away from his face.

He really hoped those weren't their last words.

He listened carefully and heard shoes on gravel walking away from the car followed by a loud squeal and a rough rolling sound. Shawn figured it out first: A garage door opening.

Gus made a quiet sound in agreement as they heard the shoes come back. The car pulled forward and turned off before the garage door rolled again and slammed closed. Gus swallowed, unable to shake the finality of the sound.

He tried to breathe quieter so they could listen to what was happening outside of the trunk. They both flinched as Dahmer's voice suddenly rang out. "Rhianna, dear, I think the side room would be perfect for you and Dr. Brown to catch up in. I'll help you make him nice and comfortable…"

Jack's taste of pancakes tinged grey in fear and Gus could feel all three people move away from the car. Shawn reached out and squeezed his shoulder in comfort and Gus returned the gesture as he took deep breaths to steel himself for what was coming.

After a few minutes, he wondered if 'what was coming' was just being left and forgotten in the trunk. Shawn sent a disgruntled broadcast: A bag of cans left behind as the perishable groceries were put away first.

Gus snorted as he felt both relief and frustration at being ignored and disregarded. He shook his head at himself, annoyed at his emotions; any time that Dahmer was ignoring them was time that he wasn't hurting them.

The minutes stretched on. He listened to Shawn's steady breathing and felt the comforting weight of his hand. It was so easy to imagine his friend as unflappable and indestructible, but Gus knew better. He could feel the underlying tension and fear in Shawn's thoughts, and it hadn't escaped his notice that there hadn't been a single movie reference in their last two verbal conversations.

A pair of footsteps finally came back, accompanied by the sound of breaking beakers and the pull of the void. Shawn squeezed his shoulder one more time before taking Gus' hands and guiding them to his throat, gently pressing them into position around the leather strap as he sent a ping of reassurance. The footsteps stopped right outside the trunk and the void darkened to a deep red; Gus tightened his fingers around the belt, hoping the protection wouldn't cost Shawn too much pain.

Gus tensed as he heard the trunk unlocking and he took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. The trunk was flung open, the belt pulled tight, and he was bodily pulled out of the car as Dahmer snarled, "Get out."

Gus scrambled to his feet and tried to blink away the stars obscuring his vision as he gasped for air. He had managed to save his throat from the worst of the abuse, but it still wasn't a pleasant way to be moved around. He felt a pang of nostalgia for when he was only being dragged around by his arm. His face suddenly burst with pain as he was hit right on top of his bleeding cut.

"Drop your hands right now or you start to lose fingers."

Gus let go immediately and the strap pulled tight, forcing him to wheeze for air. His vision cleared enough to see several electric lanterns illuminating Dahmer as he stood right next to Gus, pointing his gun at Shawn while maintaining the pressure on the belt.

"I thought we were starting to understand each other…" Dahmer growled out. He leaned in closer, and Gus shuddered as the gun ran along the tape over his mouth. "I never said you were allowed to take the gags off."

Fear rushed over Gus at the words as he realized his panic attack had been loud enough for everyone to hear. Dahmer suddenly moved, rotating so he was behind Gus, pulling the belt tighter while sliding the gun up to press into his cut cheek. "Ah ah ah, where do you think you're going?"

Gus immediately looked for Shawn and saw him sitting frozen with one leg out of the trunk. Dahmer pressed the gun deeper into the cut and Gus felt more blood flowing down his face. Shawn quickly held up his cuffed hands and pinged an apology.

"You are clearly a terrible influence," Dahmer growled at Shawn. "He was finally starting to accept his place," he kicked out, dropping Gus back to his knees, "then I let you two be together and he's back to breaking the rules."

He let go of the belt and shoved Gus' head down before stalking towards Shawn. As soon as the bad guy's back was turned, Gus looked up and prepared to climb back to his feet.

Shawn sent a frantic set of broadcasts: A stop sign, a gun, a gobstopper, a cow pooping, a stoplight, flashing police lights.

Gus clenched his hands in frustration; waiting for the police might be safer, but he had an almost visceral need to fight and keep Shawn from being hurt again. He wasn't even sure if it was to prove something to Dahmer or to prove it to himself.

Shawn pinged a quick reassurance as Dahmer reached him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him the rest of the way out of the trunk. Shawn focused on keeping his balance without using his broken leg and didn't see the hand punching forward to drive the gun barrel into his side.

Shawn tried to double over, but Dahmer grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, running the gun along his jawline as he growled into his ear, "You should be worshipping the ground Rhianna walks on, because she is the only reason I'm not killing you right here, right now."

He grabbed Shawn by the arm and pulled him further into the large garage, forcing Shawn to lean into the bruising grip to keep weight off of his leg as he stumbled with him. Gus stayed where he was and watched in frustration while trying to remind himself that he was following Shawn's instructions, not Dahmer's.

He reminded himself over and over again: help was coming. They just needed to survive this bullshit a little longer.

Juliet prayed that the university building would hold the clue they needed to find their friends.

The blinking lights of multiple squad cars broke up the nighttime darkness as they pulled into the parking lot. Henry leaned forward to look out of the front window as he pointed. "Isn't that the stolen car?"

"Yeah, it is," Lassiter confirmed as he turned and parked as close to the other vehicle as possible. Buzz jogged over to meet them as they exited the car.

"Detectives," Buzz greeted, looking uncharacteristically grim. "The car's been searched, there's blood in the trunk and some evidence in the backseat. We've checked all of the hallways, there's no sign of anyone, we're doing a room-to-room sweep now. We have the head of the neurology department here, she's been able to open doors and access systems, I can introduce you."

"Systems?" Juliet asked as they approached the stolen car.

Buzz nodded. "There's a keycard entry, she was bringing up the logs from tonight when you pulled in."

Henry aimed his flashlight into the backseat and the light glinted off of a silver case. "Son of a bitch!"

Juliet frowned. "Wait, isn't that…"

"Gus' pharmaceutical case," Lassiter confirmed. "And it should be in his apartment… I saw it there two nights ago."

"Which means he was right under our goddamn noses," Henry snarled as he kicked at one of the tires.

"But that would have been really risky," Juliet said. "Why…?"

Lassiter checked the trunk, including the wall under the lid, before stalking towards the nearby door to the building. "It doesn't matter now. They would have gone this way."

Juliet knew it was probably cowardly, but she walked around the front of the vehicle before catching up with her partner. They entered the building and stopped once they reached the hallway, looking in both directions. Juliet thought out loud, "This is where Millers works, and we know Dahmer is obsessed with her. Which way's her office?"

Buzz answered from behind her, "To the left, about halfway down the hall, I'll show you."

He took the lead and the rest of them followed, passing by several chairs lined up along the wall and several doors with frosted glass windows. Henry suddenly stopped and looked back at the door they had just passed, a frown on his face.

Juliet noticed his reaction. "Henry, you see something?"

Henry shook his head, still staring at the door. "No…"

"Well then hurry up," Lassiter snapped as he continued down the hall.

Henry turned to follow him before stopping. He growled under his breath as he went back to the door. "Last time I had this feeling, I ignored it. And Shawn ended up having to jump onto your car while we were going sixty miles an hour."

He walked through the door and flicked on the lights, revealing a room with several computers, a lab table set against the wall, and a large circular chamber with a table attached. Buzz checked his notes as he stayed in the hall, "Dr. Heightmeyer, the head of the department, said that they have several research projects that involve regular MRI scans."

"Spencer, why would they come in here? This is a waste of time."

Henry ignored Lassiter as he walked around the room, his eyes seeming to take in everything at once. Juliet looked around too; she'd always wondered if some of Shawn's talents came from his father. If he said there was something here…

"Not a waste of time," Henry answered as he reached the back of the room and stared at a small pile of towels tossed out of sight against the wall. "Blood."

Lassiter cursed and turned to issue orders to Buzz, "Get CSI in here, Heightmeyer too, see if there's anything on these- Shit."

Juliet spun towards her partner at the curse, her hand dropping down to her gun as she looked for threats. Lassiter stalked past Buzz as he studied a small hole in the hallway wall. He confirmed her guess, "Bullet hole, someone was shooting in the room."

Juliet's heart pounded at the words, but she reassured herself with a scan of the floor. "No signs of blood, maybe a warning shot?"

Maybe their friends were still fighting.

Lassiter's lips tightened and he glanced back before barking out, "McNab!"

Buzz jumped and grabbed his radio. "Right, on it, sorry."

The detectives walked back into the room as Lassiter thought out loud, "So, why would you kidnap three people, hurt two of them, go into the middle of the city, and take at least one of your hurt victims into an MRI room?"

Juliet looked at the large machine. "He's studying psychics…"

Henry paled and finished the thought, "He was scanning one of them."

Juliet understood the reaction; Dahmer had nearly killed Gus last time in an attempt to make him psychic. If he compared Gus' brain scans with a real psychic, like Shawn, then he might realize he'd failed and try again. They were running out of time.

She frowned and walked closer to the machine, wishing she could touch the table. Shawn or Gus had been here. One of them had been laying right there on the table less than a couple of hours ago. So close, but still so far away.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be laying in the machine while someone stood to the side with a gun. They probably saw when Dahmer's phone went off. She wondered if he said anything.

She stopped at the thought, barely registering that a new person was being introduced to everyone in the room. One of the boys had been on the table. They might have heard or sensed something. Maybe they left another message.

She leaned into the chamber and checked the walls, looking for anything that seemed out of place. She scanned the table before kneeling down and checking underneath. "Carlton!"

Lassiter was immediately at her side, kneeling and looking up at the underside of the table where there were several deliberate lines of blood. "What the hell is that supposed to be?"

Henry knelt on the other side and studied the message. "I have no idea…"

Juliet dug her phone out and took a picture of the blood, a crooked upside-down T with an extra squiggle near the end of the stem. A fingerprint was just below the squiggle and Juliet couldn't tell if it was an accidental addition or part of the message. She had no idea what it was, but it had clearly been left on purpose. It had to mean something.

"I bet it was Shawn on the table," Henry said faintly, "He's never been a good artist."

Juliet remembered a drawing of a T-Rex and silently disagreed as she studied their clue. "If it was, then at least Dahmer was scanning a real psychic… It'll keep them safer."

Henry gave her an unreadable look and sighed out, "Yeah."

"Um, Detectives?" A woman's voice called out from the computers.

Lassiter stood up first. "Yes, what is it?"

Juliet and Henry followed as a middle-aged woman with wavy blonde hair answered, "It looks like there were scans done tonight as well as last night… But, I'm more worried about one of our other researchers. Jack Brown is on the key log for tonight and he didn't answer my calls. He came in about half an hour before Rhianna's key was used."

"That's how they left," Juliet realized with a sinking feeling. She'd known better, but part of her had hoped that their friends were still in the building.

"McNab!" Lassiter called out. "Find out what car-"

"Working on it," Buzz called out, his phone already up to his ear. He suddenly blinked and walked into the room, putting the call on speaker. "Can you say that again, Johnson?"

Officer Johnson's voice came through clearly as he reported, "IT guys got into the laptop. There's a lot of research articles and sites that are logged in with Miller's credentials. There's also a few Google searches for different restaurants, motels, grocery stores..."

"What was the most recent search?" Lassiter asked.

"Coffee shops near Solvang."

"Oh my god, I've got it," Henry said, his face lighting up in realization. He took Juliet's phone out of her hand without asking and pulled up the picture of the bloody message. "Solvang. That's an S," he pointed at the squiggle near the top. "It's just backwards. Which would make this…"

"Route 154," Juliet caught on, "It's a map!"

"Johnson," Lassiter snapped out, "We need a list of any abandoned buildings just south of Solvang, now!"

"We can start heading that way," Henry called out, already leaving the room.

Lassiter nodded and grabbed the phone from Buzz, "McNab, coordinate this scene, get an APB out on Brown's car. I'm taking Sheppard's team with us. Johnson, get me those addresses, there can't be very many."

Juliet followed her partner out of the room as she heard Buzz sigh and ask Heightmeyer, "Do you have a phone I could borrow?"

They were getting closer. Dahmer wouldn't know they were coming. This could be it.

Please, Juliet begged any deity who was listening, let this be it.

A/N: Even within canon there's a psychic that seems legit, and other departments -even feds- hire psychics as consultants. Juliet's belief in Shawn makes her trusting, not stupid. #AuthorSoapbox.

Also, I did not intend for Shawn's drawing skills to be brought up in both fics on the same week. Oops.