I'm writing this story in a different style than I usually do. It's good fun and good practice. I may be plagued by horrendous writer's block at all times, but I'm so motivated right now that I am powering through it as much as possible to make prompt updates. Also, I have decided this story really is in season 3, you'll see exactly where soon. Enjoy!

2: Being This Awesome Hurts

Shawn finished his smoothie and wasn't allowed to pet any of the drug dogs. The gang crime unit had arrived to take over the scene and therefore the case, so he had nothing else to do. He didn't really want to do anything else about it anyways, he had other things to worry about. Not only did all this action bring back his soreness from the electric shock, but it also totally exhausted him with some pretty bad brain fog. At least bad for him. He couldn't focus on many fine details, which really bothered him.

For some reason, all he could focus on was one officer in particular, doing traffic control. He recognized her. It was Officer Laurens, he never spoke with her but did see her around the office. She was standing in the middle of the road, just past the intersection, guiding traffic around the scene. He looked far down the road, and his focus was drawn to a particular silver car that had no reason to stand out at all. He couldn't even see the driver from this distance. The rest of the world seemed to blur, but this car seemed crystal clear.

Something was wrong with that car. Traffic began to move, and Shawn jaywalked across the street towards the officer. Traffic slowly maneuvered around her, and as the silver car came closer, Shawn saw consciously what he was seeing subconsciously. The driver was wiping his forehead with his sleeve and panting. Then, he slumped forward. The car continued forward. Officer Laurens was just finishing guiding the bunch of cars from the last light cycle, and didn't notice the silver car wasn't slowing down.

Shawn pulled the officer over to the sidewalk with seconds to spare. The silver car, now deviating off course, ran right over where she was standing, and sideswiped three patrol cars parked in the right lane before coming to a stop rear-ending a fourth. For just a second after, the whole scene froze in shock.

"He's having a heart attack!" Shawn immediately yelled, breaking everyone out of their surprised states. It was a random guess, the clear medical emergency the guy was having could be many things, but Shawn was incredibly certain of it this time. The officers at the scene ran over to the car to administer aid. One of them called for an ambulance on the radio.

Suddenly, pain. Shawn reeled back against a building wall and grasped his head in his hands. The sharp stabbing pain was dizzying and nauseating. But like before, it only lasted a good ten seconds before fading away completely. When he came out of it, he noticed the officer he saved had her hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you okay? I wanted to thank you for saving my life, but now I need to know if I need to return the favor," she said nervously.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a psychic... thing. Wow, words sure aren't wording right now." He gave a quick shake of his head and a glance around, noting Gus rushing over, then turned back to the officer. "Well, it was a psychic thing. Same as it ever was. It's Officer Laurens, right?"

She nodded. "Katie Laurens. I've helped with the aftermath of some of your cases, like I was doing just before this," she said, gesturing at the crash scene. "But I've never seen your powers firsthand. That was impressive."

Shawn could hear a tiny tremor in her voice, see her try to hide her shaking from the shock of nearly getting slammed into by the car. He suspected she probably didn't consider that what he did wasn't that impressive, he was just the only person who was paying attention. Not to blame anyone else for not having his skill of course. "What can I say, my powers have no bounds."

At that moment, Gus made it across the street and yanked Shawn away from the conversation. "I saw that. And I don't mean that heroic rescue. You're not fine, don't even try saying you are."

Of course, Shawn was prepared for the confrontation. "Okay, you saw me double down in pain. That's fine. But I am fine now," he said. "I'll take a little pain in trade for being at the absolute top of my game."

"Hold on, what do you mean?" Gus asked accusingly.

"My skills are sharper than they've ever been! I guessed everyone's smoothies. Exactly what they wanted. Or didn't know they wanted. I picked out that silver car before I even saw the driver. I can't remember where I got all the laundromat info, but that doesn't matter cause I ran the operation perfectly too!" Shawn exclaimed.

Gus shook his head. "Nope. I can see it all in your face. You're not hiding it this time. You're not fine and you don't want to admit it."

Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. Gus was right. He hit his limit. The adrenaline that hid it was wearing off fast. He was going to crash at this rate. "Okay, Gus. Maybe, just maybe, I am a teeny bit tired out. I blame getting struck with ten billion volts."

"Not to mention the concussion. And power lines are only a few thousand volts, by the way. If you actually listened to the hospital's pamphlet and rested you'd actually start healing."

"I read it. Considered it. But you know that it can't stop me. It warned me of what to expect anyways." In a mocking tone, he continued. "'With a concussion, you may find yourself with confusion, difficulty focusing...' whatever. At the rate it was going, I thought it would tell me I'll find myself behind the wheel of a large automobile asking 'well, how did I get here?' The point is, I saved the day, no big gang shoot-up happened, and now I can leave and go rest to make you happy."

"Good, let's go," Gus said. He started walking off, and Shawn followed, but also protested.

"I took the motorcycle, remember? What am I gonna do, shove it in the back of the blueberry? Listen, you may ask yourself, 'where is that large automobile?' There isn't one, Gus!"

Gus sighed. "Okay, fine, stop quoting that weird song." They dodged the growing traffic jam and got to the Blueberry parked across the street. Gus hopped in and rolled the window down. "Listen, if I don't see you back at the office soon, I'll tell Juliet about the incident."

"I promise, okay? Don't worry, I'm really done here. I'll just check to make sure I'm not needed then go. And come on, that song is a jam! I can't get it out of my head."

"We'll talk about the intricacies of Talking Heads back at the office, where I will see you." Gus started the car. And the moment he did, the familiar bass line of Once in a Lifetime blasted on the radio. Gus did a double take at Shawn and the radio. "Did... did you plan that?" "I swear, you better not have called the radio station!"

Shawn barely contained a laugh. "That was pure luck! Though, calling the station is a great idea, I'll use that one day." Suddenly, he got dizzy once again and balanced himself against the car, but played it off as nothing, simply ignoring his vision spinning and going fuzzy. "I also didn't know you were that good at ventriloquism, why didn't you tell me?"

"Okay, that's it, you're getting in this car. You're in no state to drive that bike," Gus demanded. "Now I know what you mean by top of your game."

"Hmm, not happening. The gas fumes will probably knock me out if I'm within a hundred feet," Shawn said. His brain was fogging up more now, sending him down to the level of an average human being's level of perception and non-energetic-ness (the horror!) and raising his lack of focus to new heights. "I'd much rather just go sit under the shade of a tree. You know what, that's exactly what I'll do." He stumbled over to a nearby planter with a tall tree in the middle and sat down with his back leaning against it. "Go on without me, Gus. Trust me, I'll be fine if I just sit here a minute!"

Gus gave him a concerned gaze, but didn't push it. "Fine. But don't crash on the way back. It's scary enough to hear when you say you're at the hospital. I don't want to hear it from anyone else." They both knew what that last sentence implied.

The car left the lot, and Shawn was now alone under the tree, waiting for the world to stop spinning. It wasn't very quiet or peaceful, being at the edge of a parking lot, but it was good enough. Once again, it was a very speedy recovery.

There was a bit of a pattern here. Shawn couldn't help but notice. The symptoms were only showing up when he used his skills. Whether it was just his normal skills or his enhanced ones, he couldn't pick out yet. But it was without a doubt caused by that. But he thought, what about the more random times it showed up? He counted those times. Everything from the hospital to the Psych office didn't count, he was still messed up for a bit then. He could pick out the obvious connections in the plan and the deductions. The car crash too. But what about the song thing, he wondered? Or the smoothie guesses? Those both gave him bouts of vertigo. With the smoothies, maybe he was just thinking too hard about the guesses.

The song was what confounded him. Why would a crazy coincidence of a song mess with him? Or maybe it was Gus suddenly being a master ventriloquist.

Actually, lots of people were being master ventriloquists today. And Shawn couldn't think of an explanation.

He got up and walked back towards his motorcycle, getting stopped by Juliet on the way.

"Shawn, are you okay? You're looking a little..."

"Long night, Jules," Shawn replied. "Just tired. Don't worry about me, worry about the scene! Look at this, you've got some big time gang members that I sense will spill all the beans, every last tiny little pinto bean, for a plea deal. At least one of them will." That was still a total guess, but it still made his brain sting. He had to remember to stop doing that.

Juliet studied his face, seeing if she could figure the tricky psychic out. "It might be the light, but your eyes look a little dilated. Are you really okay?"

Shawn had to make something up quick. And it turns out, that was easy. He realized that unless the vehicular-homicide-committing gang member confesses to a murder, the cops don't actually know about the real event last night. And just like that, he had an out, and he had just enough energy left to do it.

He started with staring into the distance, "It's the spirits. They're guiding me." Looking back towards the scene, he spotted the squad car the beat-up gangster was in the back of. Lassiter was questioning one of the others first, so the cars hadn't left for the jails. Shawn ran over to the car and dramatically flopped over on his back on top of the trunk. "Yes! There's a connection!"

"What do you mean, connection?" Juliet asked, intrigued.

"The guy in the car, he killed someone last night. But he took the body! He locked it in the trunk!" Shawn jerked one hand around in a shaky motion. "I'm getting electricity. Lightning. Not real lightning! Something... something shocking!"

Lassiter heard the commotion and was immediately interested. He paused his questioning and paced over. "Hold on, are you saying these guys were involved with that one wreck from last night?"

"Oh, that hit and run with the power pole!" Juliet added.

Shawn paused his show. "Hold on, you know of that?"

"The guys working graves were talking about it when I came in," Lassiter said. "It knocked power out in a neighborhood for a few hours. They thought it was a simple drunk driving crash. Some guy got a shock from the downed lines, but the ambulance took him away before they even got there. They couldn't track down the ambulance. Hazmat teams got involved for a chemical spill."

"I saw the clip about it on the news," Juliet said. "Are you saying there was more to it?"

Shawn stood up and opened his arms wide. "He was standing with his back turned. Not the shocked guy, the dead guy." He pointed one hand forward. "Then, bang!" He clapped his other hand to it. "The body was taken away! The car flipped, that's why our guy here is all scraped up. I'm not sure which of these three is going to talk, but I promise you'll get something from one of them."

"Well, with the Gang Crimes Unit taking over here, we can check out the preliminary report for the crash once I wrap up here. If we can find any evidence in it that suggests that happened, we can investigate. He is our suspect and if he proves to be the murderer, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't stop at just one."

"Perfect. Lassie, what do you say? I think it'll help when I add that the missing dead guy is the suspect for our other murder."

Lassiter sighed. He didn't want to believe it. But the psychic was scarily accurate and detailed today, and he wouldn't admit how close to being convinced about the info (because he would never be convinced about the act) he was. "It's a massive stretch. There's nothing here connecting the events, and no real evidence. There are dozens of reasons someone could be injured like that, and gang activities are a big chunk of that. No body, no crime."

"No, you are not bringing that saying back!" Shawn looked over the three cars each holding an arrested gang member. Luckily, none of them were struck by the crashing car. He was running on autopilot now, focus suddenly laser-sharp on the one holding Jacob, the second guy that was arrested. His vision started to black out, but the squad car stayed bright. "It's Jacob, he's the one you should ask! He knows everything and he's gonna talk!" Shawn shouted out. He knows he knows he knows he knows repeated over and over in his head for the ten seconds this episode occurred. He fell back against the car trunk again, panting in exhaustion. It worked for the act, but wasn't one.

"Spencer, I was already planning on questioning him. The murder is still our case, Gang Crimes doesn't have that."

"That's true," Shawn gasped out. "But hurry up, the news said it'll rain tomorrow night. The evidence will be washed away."

Juliet was plenty convinced at least. "Well, I'm going back to the station to look at that report."

Shawn stood up and took out his motorcycle keys. "Looks like we've got this settled. I've got to get back to the Psych office or else Gus will go all Ed Rooney on me. Of course, that makes me Ferris Bueller and he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop me, but then he'd get all Cameron Frye when he can't stop me and we'd have to send his car into a ravine. I think I would rather watch that movie with him instead of reenacting it. Jules, call me when you find the evidence. Lassie... trust me on this one." Without waiting for a response, he ran back to his motorcycle and drove off.

"You know, I never thought to compare him to Ferris Bueller, but it's surprisingly accurate," Juliet said to her partner as Shawn rode away.

Gus was pacing the room. It had been a while and Shawn still wasn't there. He wasn't answering his phone either. Gus was starting to worry what his friend was up to, trying to think of everything that he could be doing that wasn't crashing his motorcycle. Thankfully, after a few minutes longer, Shawn came through the door, set his helmet down, then collapsed on the couch.

Of course, Gus didn't wait a second to voice his concern. "Shawn, what took you so long? Why weren't you answering your phone?"

Shawn pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Well, it's actually on this time. I guess I didn't hear it over the bike. Now, you wanted me to rest, so I'm going to do just that so I can finish this case up later."

"You know it's for your own good, right?"

"I know, but what do you expect me to do, not investigate? I can't just sit around and do nothing. There's a dead body I need to track down."

"You will sit around and do nothing for now. You're not fine, and if I can see that, you're way worse than you look. You don't want me to tell your dad about what you did, do you?"

There was no point in trying to play it off now. "You're right, okay? But I think it's a blessing in disguise. What happened last night ended up being a skill boost. I promise you, I really am fine on that front," Shawn said. "I just happen to have a few side effects when I use these enhanced skills. But it's no big deal, it's just the concussion, concussions heal. It sucks when it happens, and it is incredibly tiring."

And the mask was broken. "So, you will stay here for a while?" Gus asked in a concerned manner.

"Yes, I will," Shawn replied. "As much as it truly pains me to say it, I need to stop for a bit. At least until Jules calls for the case, of course."

"Okay, good." Gus knew it was time to stop pushing the subject, if only to not make Shawn feel vulnerable. Gus knew he hated it.

"Jeez, you gotta stop worrying. It's making my ears ring." Shawn looked at the TV, it was off. But when he looked at it, an odd visual snow danced across the blank screen. He squinted at it, and his mind wandered to two numbers: 16 and 37. 16 and 37? 16 and 37. 16 on 37. Sixteen on 37. "No way. Sixteen Candles is on channel 37! Turn it on, Gus!"

The excited urgency in his friend's voice made Gus jump into action without thought. He turned on the TV to 37, and like magic the movie was on. It had just started, too. "No way. How did you do that?"

"I don't know! I really don't know!" Shawn was in genuine glee to see the movie on screen after his wild guess just from random numbers that popped into his mind. That glee was cut off by the sudden stabbing pain right in the middle of his forehead, and he laid back on the couch. "Man, I've gotta stop doing that."

"Okay, I see what you mean now. And you're right, you should stop."

"Don't worry, I'm already two steps ahead of you." He did his best to do nothing but focus on the movie, even after the pain predictably faded away. It wasn't long before he fell asleep to it.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Darkness, no dream. Just emptiness that he would forget about entirely. It was only a minute before the dark faded into dim light, a vivid, clear world.

And Shawn awoke within the dream.

Lucid dreaming was very rare for him, but common enough for him not to be surprised when it happened. His incredibly sharp memory paired with how he could picture things in his mind so strongly it was as if he was properly seeing it made for plenty of vivid dreams. Lucid dreaming is just one step above vivid dreaming.

It was a house in the foothills, surrounded by farmland. Mountains rose tall in the distance, shadows against the dark night sky. He had to remember the shape of the peaks. The house's garage door opened. A wrecked car pulled in at a crawl. A man was in the garage, and even from this distance, Shawn could tell he was very angry.

Two men climbed out of the car. The driver, the arrested man from earlier. The passenger, Shawn didn't recognize. Passenger's arm was coated in blood. Shawn remembered the tiny memory flash from that morning, the passenger only helped carry the body with his left arm. The right arm was sliced up, the shoulder looked dislocated.

The dislocation was proven correct. Garageman angrily shoved Passenger's arm back into place. The distant scream of pain echoed to where Shawn could hear. Driver yanked open the heavily damaged trunk. The body was in there.

Garageman helped Driver drag it out while Passenger went inside. But before Shawn saw what happened next, it all faded away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Shawn woke up with the picture of that house in the mountains branded into his mind as if he stood right there in reality. He had to draw it. The picture was too strong. To Gus' confusion, he wordlessly stood up and rushed to his desk and immediately grabbed out a pencil and large notepad.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" Gus questioned.

Shawn was hyperfocused on getting that image drawn at this very moment. "Shh! Artist at work!"

Gus obliged and stayed quiet. He instead chose to watch the drawing come to shape.

A few minutes later, Shawn finished the sketch on his notepad. "That house. We need to find that house."

Gus stared at the sketch. It was good, but that wasn't that surprising. "What's up with that house? Where did you even see it?"

"I saw it in my dream," Shawn said matter-of-factually.

"A dream. You saw it in a dream. How hard did you really hit your head last night? You do remember you aren't a real psychic, right?"

"Gus, do you really think I actually believe I'm psychic? Yes I saw it in a dream, but it must be because I saw it somewhere else and I just can't remember it combo-mealy."

"Do you mean consciously?"

"I've heard it both ways."

"In what world would you hear it that way?"

Shawn completely ignored that last comment. "We need to bring this to Jules. I tell her I saw it in a dream, because I really did! I take her back to the crash location, use my being there for some more 'visions,' get some clues, and find this house!"

"Hold on, that's an awful plan," Gus said. "If she finds out it was you involved in the crash, she'll figure out your 'visions' aren't really visions. Soon enough we'll both be put in jail for everything we've lied about in the past two years."

"If she finds out, I'll just play memory loss. Easy. I'll have a psychic episode at the scene that she'll remember if she finds out. Don't worry, I've got it."

Gus hesitated, then decided fighting this plan would be useless. "Fine. But I'm driving."

Shawn tore the paper off the notepad. "Perfect! Let's go," he said, rushing out the door.

Gus grabbed his keys and rushed after him. It seemed his friend was mostly back after that quick 30-minute nap of his, but who knows how long that will last. The two hopped in the Blueberry and drove off.

Shawn didn't hesitate to hop out and dash into the police station the moment the car stopped. Gus didn't even have time to take off his seat belt before Shawn was already through the doors.

When Gus was caught up, Shawn was waiting in the back of the room. Juliet was none the wiser. "Shawn, what are you doing?" Gus whispered.

"She found something," Shawn whispered back. "It's perfect timing. Watch this." He pulled out his phone at the exact moment Juliet did. She called, and Shawn waited two rings to answer. "Hey Jules, what did you find?"

"You may be right about the rollover. Or at least about the car hitting something else before hitting the pole," Juliet said. "You should get down here and see what you can get out of this."

Shawn glanced at Gus with a mischievous grin. "I'll be there in two seconds!" He hung up and simply walked across the room.

By the time Juliet put the phone down, Shawn leaned over her shoulder and said, "So, show me what you've got." It successfully surprised her.

"Shawn, why do you do that?" She said.

"Do you really need to ask?" Shawn looked over the report displayed on the computer screen. Of course, it wasn't complete yet and didn't have much info. But it was enough, and luckily, had pictures.

What was obvious was the debris scattered all over. A car rolling multiple times into a pole would do that. The other obvious thing was the spilled chemical. It wasn't well photographed, so there was no telling if it would've washed away any bloodstains, especially after cleanup. Both were mentioned in the report's text. The final obvious thing was the dark, the most obvious of all. There wasn't any bloodstain mentioned in the report, so it could be discerned that either the body was crushed only on the inside, or the chemical washed over the blood and made it impossible to see. Everything else wasn't anything new.

"I'm not getting anything we don't already know," Shawn said. "We need to head to the scene so I can connect with the spirits. But first things first..." He took his drawing out of his pocket and set it on the desk.

Juliet looked at it. "A house?"

"I had a vision of this place. This is where they took the car and the body. If we can get on that car's trail, we can find the body."

"We still don't have proof it's connected, remember? Clairvoyance is inadmissible in court. This investigation will have to start as a simple hit-and-run investigation. Detectives don't usually get called into them unless it's fatal, and since we have no proof that it is, we'll need a good reason to be put on the case."

Static erupted in Shawn's nerves and his ears started ringing. The static practically dragged his hand to the phone.

"Shawn, what are you getting?" Gus asked, thinking it was just for show.

Shawn, with his hand flat on the face of the unit, could hardly hear over the ringing in his ears. Patterned ringing. And a voice, a very familiar voice, saying words he couldn't make out. The call was coming. The call they all needed. It all faded away, and Shawn zoned back in on the world with his ears feeling like they were about to explode. "Guys, we're about to get our good reason."

And just like that, the phone rang.

And the caller ID? It was that of one Detective Carlton Lassiter.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter coming soon! And by the way, if you haven't watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off, you should. CLASSIC 80s movie right there. Truly classic.