A/N: Apparently my executive dysfunction is worse now than 6 months ago. Or it's a lot harder starting a schedule than sticking with it. Hopefully I'll eventually even out into having a set post day again, until then updates will be week-ish.

"What do you mean they arrested the wrong person?" Gus asked, his phone ready to dial a taxi.

"It means they arrested the wrong person." Shawn's whole body vibrated as he bounced on his toes, his eyes darting around like he could see clues in every blade of grass.

It was good to see him so confident. But they'd been done. They'd helped solve a case and nothing bad had happened... Why couldn't they be done? "How could you possibly know that?"

"Didn't you hear her? She said she didn't do it."

"Right… Which is exactly what a murderer would say."

"Yeah, but she didn't. People lie all of the time; I know what it looks like!" Shawn's eyes widened as he seemed to realize how loud he'd gotten. His body stilled and his shoulders rose defensively, but he didn't look away from Gus.

Gus' heart pounded as he ran through his options. He couldn't disagree or he'd send Shawn the rest of the way to slave mode. But he couldn't agree either. The cops didn't like being told they were wrong. It was too dangerous. "Do you have any proof that she's innocent that the cops will believe?"

"I c-could have another vision," Shawn said, still looking like he was expecting to be put back in his place.

After all of this, he still thought Gus would turn on him?

Pain spiked through Gus' heart, but a small fact blunted it before it could become fatal. Shawn knew he wouldn't turn on him. "What's going on?"

"We're trying to catch a murderer."

"That's not what I meant. Why are you freaking out?"

"I'm not–" the collar beeped angrily and Shawn jolted, his face tightening in a grimace.

Gus jolted with him, guilt shooting its own pain down his neck. Before he could say anything, Shawn folded in on himself, not a trace of emotion on his face. He said to the ground quietly, "I don't know why…"

Frustrated curses built up behind Gus' lips. Of fucking course Shawn wouldn't know why. Why would he, when he hadn't even been allowed to have goddamn emotions for the last six years. And then Gus had gone and forced him to try to answer anyway.

"Sorry," Gus said, putting all of his energy towards keep his voice calm. "I shouldn't have asked. Maybe… Maybe we could work with what you do know."

"I know I need to solve the case," Shawn said with the desperation of a drowning man.

"Ok…" It was fine. They could worry about the cops later. Shawn needed his support now. "So the witch didn't do it."

Except it made so much sense for Vanessa to have done it… She was a witch with a grudge.

Shawn's voice was monotone as he said, "You don't believe me."

"No, I– It's not that I don't– I mean…" Gus cut himself off with a groan. If he had a lie detecting collar around his neck, he'd be getting shocked too.

"You need proof." Shawn's eyes snapped up before sliding over to where Vanessa's house was. "I can get you proof."

A rush of realization was followed by a rush of fear. "Wait. Waitwaitwait, no. We agreed. No breaking into houses."

"Unless we needed to break into houses."

"What, no! I never agreed to that!"

"There's clues in that house!" Shawn tensed, like he was one second from sprinting forward and dragging Gus to the house whether he liked it or not.

There was still a cop car in front of the house…

Gus tightened his grip around the leash. "We are not going into that house and that is final."

Shawn froze, his whole body tight as he spat out, "Yes, sir."

Gus' control over his emotions finally snapped. Shawn wanted to play that way? Fine. He crowded into Shawn's space, ignoring Shawn's flinch as he physically blocking the way to the house. "You are going to get yourself arrested and killed. I will use orders to keep that from happening. If you need to yell at me? Fine. If you need to find something to hit? I'll patch you up afterwards no questions asked. But I am not letting you destroy yourself to prove something that you don't need to prove."

"But I have to."

The urge to shake him and yell 'Why?!' was so strong. But at least one of them had to stay rational, and it certainly wasn't going to be Shawn. "If you could tell me why, then maybe we can figure something out."

"I don't…" Shawn started bouncing on his toes again, and this time Gus saw it for the desperate energy it was. "I know I'm right. It has to be right. Otherwise…"

Shawn shook his head in frustration, his eyes looking past Gus as he clearly tried to route a way to the backdoor without the cops seeing them.

Why wouldn't he just listen? "Nothing is going to happen if you're wrong. The cops have our number; there'll be other cases."

Genuine fear passed across Shawn's face before he masked it with stubborness. "We didn't tell them anything they wouldn't have figured out once the tox screen came back. Why would they call us again? We have to be the ones to solve the case, not the cops."

If the only reasoning Shawn had was that he needed to be the one to solve the case, then of course he'd say the case wasn't solved when the police beat him to the punch. It was nearly impossible to keep the frustration at bay as Gus tried reason one last time. "Then we'll call them if we don't hear from them. Lassiter still owes us a favor for finding evidence on that arsonist. We can use that–"

"What if I'm right?" Shawn interrupted angrily, refusing to listen to reason. "What if Vanessa is innocent? I can save her, and instead you want to tuck your tail between your legs and go back to your safe little dorm room and stick your head in the sand while she has everything taken from her."

Blood rushed in Gus' ears and reality slammed into him. Repeat criminal offenders were collared. Why pay to jail them when they could pay society back? But that was for regular crime. How much worse could it be for someone convicted of murder?

His breath caught in his chest as his imagination ran wild. Slaves chained to an assembly line, working without rest as a merciless overseer kept them on task. Lines of hospital beds, each subject with a trial number clipped to their collar as scientists took notes. Whipping posts holding bodies ready for abuse, their names and faces forgotten.

His lungs burned, an iron bar locking them in place. It was never talked about. He'd never thought about it before. But now he knew her face. He knew her name. At what point was that treatment justified? One death, two? Old, young, self-defense, accidental… Where did society draw the line? Why didn't he know where they drew the line?

"...breathe. Gus, you gotta…"

And what about the ones who were innocent? No system was completely foolproof. Were cases ever reopened? Would they ever risk uncollaring someone who could tell about the horrors of the system? No matter where he looked, the dark underbelly of slavery kept rearing its ugly head. And he Kept. Being. Surprised by it.

"...sorry, I'm sorry. I'll stop…"

How could he agree to be part of that system?

How could Shawn agree to be part of that system?

"Gus, please…" A tentative weight rested on his shoulder, grounding him as the world tried to pull him into oblivion. "You need to breathe."

"I… I can't…" Gus tried to follow the voice's promptings, but it was too much. All of the badness in the world crushed him down, solidifying around his chest, seeping into his pores. Nowhere was safe. In the dorms, in the precinct, in a museum or a library or a taxi cab. The badness was everywhere. How could he fight it when it was everywhere.

"Sure you can. You've done it before, you can do it again. In and out. You've gotten through it before. The bullies, the log ride. There's lots of open spaces here, no heights. All you have to do is breathe."

How could he not see that this was so much worse. This was something that couldn't be fixed. Grey spots covered Gus' vision as his chest seared. The dark called to him, whispering promises of relief from his burdens. Offering rest.

Gus squeezed his eyes closed and wheezed in a deeper breath. He couldn't let go; it wasn't safe. He used all of his strength to force the air out before breathing in again. No one would listen to a slave who was found next to his unconscious master. His body trembled and he became aware of being bent over with his hands gripping his knees. The next breath was easier to take and he mourned the fact that he could see the ground under his feet.

He wasn't ready to face the world yet. He wasn't ready to look and see blood and broken spirits in every inch of his life.

"Good, good. You're doing good. Just in and out. Nothing else matters."

That wasn't right. Shawn needed to know that wasn't right. Gus gasped out around his next breath, "You… always matter."

He barely had time to take another breath before his body was pulled forward and pressure wrapped around him. His hands automatically came up to return the gesture before his mind caught up with what was happening. Shawn was hugging him.

Shawn was hugging him.

Shawn. Who still hesitated before even patting him on the shoulder. Was hugging him.

Shawn's chest rose and fell in a measured breath. Gus followed his lead, breathing in the good of the moment and breathing out the badness of the world. It didn't belong here. His arms tightened, pulling Shawn even closer. It didn't belong anywhere near his friend.

"You're ok," Shawn said quietly, his chest rumbling with his words. "You're safe."

The panic tried to overtake him again. There were so many people who weren't safe. "You aren't."

"Of course I am." Shawn's arms kept up their comforting pressure as he single-handedly held back the world. "I'm with you."

It was too much. Gus buried his face in Shawn's shoulder as his emotions crash over him. He cried for the injustices in the world. The beatings, the trainings, the starvations, the isolation. He cried for the silent losses. The loss of humanity, the loss of voice, the loss of being seen, the loss of choice. He cried for Shawn. For his past, for his nightmares, for everything he still had to go through, for how quickly he could lose everything again. He cried for himself. For his loss of innocence, for his fear, for the burden he had to carry, for the helplessness of not being able to change the world.

Shawn weathered the storm with him, a steady pillar of strength as his hand rubbed soothing circles on Gus' back. The world was swirling inky blackness, but this was a light it couldn't touch.

The emotions finally ran out, leaving a deep exhaustion behind. Time slowly began to tick again, but Gus didn't move. He wasn't ready to stand on his own yet.

Shawn's hand stopped rubbing and he asked, "Are you ok?"

It wasn't a choice. He had to be ok. Gus nodded and reluctantly stepped out of the hug. The first thing he saw was the wet spot on Shawn's shoulder. The second was the concerned and slightly freaked out look on Shawn's face.

Gus looked away in shame, dissonance making him off balance as he saw they were still in the same normal neighborhood as before. The grass was still green, the sky was still blue, and the paint was still peeling off of the house next to them. It didn't feel real. After that darkness, after that light. How could it still be the same?

Shawn's voice pulled Gus' attention back to the only person who mattered. "I-I'm sorry. I just thought it'd get you mad, I didn't mean to– I'm sorry."

Shawn looked just as off balance, his eyes locked on the ground and his hands twitching by his side. At least he wasn't kneeling and asking to be punished… Gus gave his head a shake to get his thoughts working again. His voice was rough as he said, "It wasn't you. I'm sorry. You were dealing with your stuff already. I shouldn't have…"

He knew better than most that he couldn't choose when panic would take over. But it shouldn't have been at Shawn's expense.

"We can…" Shawn hesitated before pushing through. "We can go home. I can be– I won't argue anymore."

Home. The word promised comforting food, soft beds, and four walls that could keep everything else at bay. Gus' breath hitched one last time as he pulled his phone out and dialed it. Images of Vanesa flashed in his mind as he lifted it to his ear. Her hair buzzed off as she hunched over a conveyor belt, her pulling against restraints as a needle was injected into her arm, blood running down her back as she hung from her chains. "Hello, I need a taxi to take me and my friend to the police precinct."

Shawn slowly looked up with hope in his eyes. Gus nodded and finished his call. Shawn said the girl was innocent; Gus trusted him. The case wasn't over yet. They needed more information.

The first half of the taxi ride was silent as they both calmed down. Their underlying problems were still very real, but for now they had a common goal. Something to focus their energies on.

"Ok," Gus finally said. "Let's go over what we know."

The cab driver gave him a strange look through the mirror, but Gus ignored her. She'd already been confused when she'd picked him up and hadn't seen any other 'person' with him. She didn't deserve his attention. Shawn, on the other hand…

Shawn was currently the picture of an obedient slave. His hands clasped, his head bowed, only taking up the bare minimum of space. The sight would normally make Gus rage at the world. Now he only felt resigned. Shawn wouldn't be acting like that if Gus hadn't freaked out at the taxi driver from earlier.

Which just meant Gus had to do all of the talking. It was fine. "The old lady was found dead a day ago. Our current theory is that she was poisoned. She refused to retire and worked as the head librarian. She was strict and not many people liked her. She gave money to the library and had influence." Sure there were people who didn't like her, but none of that sounded like a reason to kill her…

"She had a fight with our witch almost two weeks ago. Something in the tox screen pointed to her being the primary suspect," Shawn quietly added.

The cab driver craned around as she stared in shock. Shawn flinched and curled in on himself, and Gus snapped at her, "Eyes on the road."

"I don't tell you how to do your job…" the lady muttered under her breath as she went back to watching the road. Gus barely heard her add, "Whatever the hell it is…"

"So if Vanessa didn't do it," Gus pressed on, continuing his previous plan of ignoring anyone who wasn't Shawn, "then we need to figure out why she was arrested. Maybe that'll give us the clue we need."

"We need to know how," Shawn said, his eyes distant like he was locked in the past.

"What do you mean 'how'?"

"How was she poisoned." Shawn's eyes refocused and he thankfully seemed to see Gus when he looked over. "Food, injection, gas… If we know how, then we can know where. If we know where, then we can narrow down who."

"That makes sense." The taxi turned and pulled into the precinct's parking lot. Gus mindlessly paid the fare and let them both out. If they were going to keep this up, then maybe he should get a car… Or at least get the police to give them travel money.

Gus shook the distracting thoughts away as they climbed the steps. He needed to focus; Shawn was counting on him. An innocent person might be counting on him.

The precinct was bustling with the controlled energy of people who all knew what their job was. As luck would have it, Lassiter passed by them as Gus finished filling out the paperwork for a visitor badge.

"Guster, what are you doing here?"

It was gametime. Gus put a smile on his face and said his rehearsed line. "Shawn had a vision that you had a break in the case."

Lassiter's eyebrows rose in surprise before crashing back down in a glare. "Yeah, we did. With real police work. Not–"

"Ah, I'm getting something," Shawn yelled behind them, clutching his head. The precinct became deathly silent as every head turned towards him. He didn't seem to notice as he squeezed his eyes shut and said, "Someone's here. She's calling out to me. I'm getting a name… A picture? A hoax. A toy submarine in a loch…"

This part hadn't been rehearsed… "The Loch Ness Monster?" No, that wasn't the name he was going for. "Nessie."

"Nessie, Nessa… she's going to Nessa… Vanessa. Vanessa Halebright. I can see it bright as day." Shawn gasped for breath and looked up, locking eyes with Lassiter. "The spirits say she's here. You think she did it."

Lassiter's whole body tightened as he was brought into the spectacle. He snapped at Gus, "Keep him under control." He glanced around at the dozen of shocked witnesses before stalking past them. "Follow me."

Shawn had slid back to perfect slave mode, the small upward twitch to his lips only visible to those who knew what to look for. Gus wished he could enjoy it as well, but every single police officer was eyeing up Shawn like he was a bug to snuff out. Gus gave an awkward nod to the people still staring and quickly followed Lassiter.

His panic tried to take hold again as they were led towards the room with the whipping post, but Lassiter stopped in front of one of the other doors before it grew out of control. "What the hell was that?"

Honestly, Gus had the same exact question. He kept his thoughts to himself as he answered, "That was a vision. Shawn's been having more and more of them lately."

"We both know that's bullshit."

"He's been able to see more than other people for as long as I've known him." Gus wrangled his thoughts back to the case as his hands shook. "And the chief seemed to believe him. He hired us. And he hired us to help with the whole case, not just one vision."

Shawn had pointed out that Lassiter wouldn't risk going against the chief's wishes. It was their best play to get back on the case.

But Gus was starting to second guess themselves now that he was face to face with the angry officer.

"I'm in charge of this case. I found the evidence. I connected it to the suspect. I arrested the suspect. All he's done is break rules left and right. I don't care what you do to him in your own time, but when he's here he's expected to behave like he's supposed to."

Lassiter's hand was dangerously close to the pocket where Gus knew a remote was. He needed to de-escalate the situation. "Understood. No more public visions." He shot a look at Shawn who seemed to not notice as he stood at attention. He totally noticed. "But he did say a name that he shouldn't have known. What's the harm in showing us what you found? You already have your suspect in custody."

Lassiter narrowed his eyes in suspicion before opening the door. "Fine. But I'm only doing this to prove to the chief that we don't need help from a miscreant like him. Don't think I didn't look him up."

Of course Shawn would have a file… Gus kept his face neutral as he walked through the door. His legs nearly buckled in relief when he saw it was just a small room without any furniture. He really needed to stop thinking there were going to be whips behind every precinct door. Especially if they were going to be here a lot.

A tinted window was the only point of interest in the room, and on the other side was Vanessa handcuffed to a table. Gus' imagination put a collar around her neck, and he quickly looked away. They were here for the case.

"Autopsy report came back," Lassiter reported after closing the door. He handed Gus a file he'd been holding and sarcastically asked, "Haven't the spirits already told him what it says?"

"No, sir," Shawn replied neutrally.

"The spirits don't work like that," Gus added for good measure. It would have been nice if Shawn had been this unassuming in front of the crowd… Though if he'd stayed quiet, would Lassiter have just brushed them off? It did seem likely.

Gus' curiosity had him flipping open the file and glancing at the autopsy report. He resolutely kept his eyes on the chemical names and values instead of looking at the picture of the dead woman. One high number caught his eye. Atropine? He skimmed the written section of the report before handing it over to Shawn. It made sense now why the cops had arrested the witch.

"Nightshade?" Shawn asked in surprise.

"Ms. Halebright has two plants growing in her house that she, apparently, uses for 'rituals'." Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Considering she fought with Mrs. McKinsley just two weeks ago, and threatened her, we have both motive and means. I think we're done here." He turned to leave before saying in a condescending tone, "Oh, you're welcome to stay if you want. You can see how a real professional closes a case."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Gus said, "Shawn…"

"It wasn't her," Shawn answered immediately as he continued to flip through the file. "It can't be."

Neither of them could afford to lose their cool here. Gus took a deep breath and asked, "Ok, so now what?"

"We have to figure out who else could get their hands on nightshade… What do you know about it?"

"Why should I know anything about a plant?" Gus asked as Lassiter entered the room on the other side of the one-way-mirror.

Shawn just shrugged. "You know a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. I just figured you'd probably know something nerdy like that."

"Botany is not nerdy. It's the basis of medicine, food, environmental sciences…"

Shawn gave him a look that said Gus was just proving his point. "So you're saying you don't know anything about it?"

"I didn't say that!" Gus squeezed his eyes closed and tried to remember back to a report he'd written on native California plants. He'd been surprised to find nightshade on the list. "Ok. Some people grow nightshade on purpose, but it grows in the wild too. You can find it all around here: fields, pastures, alongside the road… Every part is toxic, not just the berries. In the past, the plant was used by women to dilate their eyes because it was in fashion, hence the scientific name belladonna. The chemical in the plant that caused that reaction is still used in dilation eye drops to this day. Also, if bees eat from the flowers and then make honey, the honey is still toxic–"

Shawn interrupted him with a confused, "How could that possibly be helpful?"

"You asked what I knew! You didn't ask what I knew that could also pertain to this case."

"That was clearly inferred."

"You mean implied."

"I've heard it both ways."

They looked at each other in bafflement for several seconds before silently agreeing to move on.

"So what now?" Gus asked.

"I don't know…" Shawn wandered over to the window to watch the interrogation. "Something's not right."

Gus couldn't help but point out, "She had the murder weapon."

Shawn just gave a non committal hum as Lassiter finished laying out his evidence. Vanessa's face was pale as she looked on. Could she have actually done it?

"As you can see, we've caught you red-handed. So why don't you make all of our lives easier." Lassiter dropped a paper pad in front of her, making her jump. "Just write your confession and sign it and we'll see if we can find one of the nicer places to sell you."

"I didn't do it," Vanessa said with a shaky voice.

"Sure you didn't. So where were you the night of the 31st?"

"I was home. By myself."

"And no alibi for the next twenty four hours…?" Lassiter asked, looking unimpressed.

Vanessa's voice rose in panic. "It's not a crime to live quietly."

"No, but it is a crime to poison someone. You were even heard making threats to her. What, were the demons working too slowly for you?"

"I didn't do it!" Vanessa cried. "I didn't! How would I have even poisoned her? I don't even know where she lives!"

"Gus?" Shawn asked quietly.

Lassiter pulled out one of the photos and slammed it on the table. "Even Mrs. McKinsley knew you did it. She used her last breath to give us a clue. The number of the book that you checked out nine days ago."

Gus quietly answered, "Yeah?"

"What's the symptoms of nightshade poisoning?"

Tears ran down Vanessa's face as she pulled against the handcuffs. "Why would she write a number instead of my name if she knew it was me? You have the wrong person!"

"Dizziness, sweating, shaking, vomiting, paralysis, unconsciousness," Gus answered automatically as he stared at the note left by a dead woman. Something was wrong.

Vanessa sobbed uncontrollably, unable to answer any of the questions Lassiter was leveling at her.

"She was showing symptoms days ago," Shawn realized, his eyes far away. "Hilda said so. Confusion. Shaking."

"She was poisoned over time…" The answer came to Gus as he looked at the note with perfect penmanship. The note that couldn't have been written by a dying person with shaking hands. "Someone else wrote that note."

They looked at each other and said in unison, "Vanessa was framed."

The realization settled over them, neither daring to move. They'd done it. They'd solved the case.

Shawn reached out to loudly knock on the glass. Lassiter's head snapped up and Gus' jaw dropped. "Wait, we still don't know who actually did it."

Shawn's face went blank. "Oh."

Lassiter stalked out of the interrogation room and Shawn's eyes started to dart around, like he was watching a movie on fast forward. The door to their room opened right as Shawn gasped, "I've got it."

"What do you think you're doing? You're supposed to be observing, not–"

Shawn cut him off. "She didn't do it."

Lassiter's face darkened and he reached into his pocket. Gus quickly stepped between them with his hands out in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry, I did it. Shawn had another vision while he was in here, and I thought you needed to know."

"I told you to keep him under control. We have rules for a reason."

Gus answered quickly before Shawn could make anything worse. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll do better. It's just… we have reason to believe Vanessa didn't do it."

"Really," Lassiter said, his anger making the sarcasm sharp. "And who, pray tell, do you think did do it?"

"Celeste," Shawn answered without hesitation. "The librarian with the braids. Soon the head librarian with the braids. And I can get you proof."

"I already have my murderer. I don't need to deal with any of this." Lassiter opened the door and stepped to the side. "Get out."

They couldn't leave now. Shawn had been right. Gus played the only card they had left. "You owe us."

Lassiter scoffed. "I don't owe you shit."

"We helped you nail an arsonist and you came to us for help with the lawyer's death," Gus said. "I'd say we've earned the chance to prove we're right."

Lassiter's jaw clenched and Gus held his breath. Quiet sobs played through the speakers connected to the other room. Lassiter finally moved, closing the door and crossing his arms. "You have one minute. Tell me what you've got."

Fiery orange and pink streaked across the sky as the sun set across the ocean. It would have been beautiful if Gus wasn't watching it through the bars of a cage.

The police cruiser hit a pothole and Gus shook his head at his melancholy thoughts. He'd chosen to ride in the back so he and Shawn would be on the same side of the bars. It wasn't an omen, it was just logistics.

Lassiter had actually listened to their evidence. And had agreed to follow up on it. And had called another officer to back him up. And, most surprisingly, had agreed to let Shawn and Gus come with him. Though he'd definitely been trying to fry Gus with lasers from his eyes when he'd said yes.

It didn't take long before they were pulling into the library's parking lot. Lassiter turned on his siren just long enough to make Celeste stop as she opened her car door. A new rush ran through Gus as he saw her eyes dart between the cop cars before she gave them a neutral smile. They were right.

Shawn knew it too, judging by his triumphant look as Lassiter let them out of the back seat.

"Stay out of our way," Lassiter said before approaching Celeste. "Mrs. Celeste Brown, we need to ask you a few more questions."

Shawn crowded behind Gus, urging him closer.

"Of course. How can I help you, Officers?" Celeste asked neutrally. She didn't look gorgeous anymore.

"What, exactly, was your relationship with Mrs. McKinsley?"

"We were colleagues. Friendly colleagues."

Shawn stopped waiting for Gus, instead stepping around him to peer into the car.

"When you were questioned, you mentioned a fight that Mrs. McKinsley had been involved in. You mentioned it three different times."

"Yes, a woman who comes by often. Vanessa something. I'm sorry, I'd have to look in our system for her last name. I can go do that–"

"That won't be necessary."

Shawn snapped his hand to his temple and pointed to the car. "Your evidence is in there. Gloves. Tea bags."

Lassiter glanced through the still opened door. His hand casually rested on his gun as he asked, "Mind if we look at those?"

Celeste's face paled and she closed the door. "That's private property."

"If you don't have anything to hide, then it won't take more than a minute to prove he's wrong," Lassiter pointed out.

Celeste just shook her head. And Shawn started to speak. "It must have been so frustrating. You'd done all of that work, sucking up to the old lady, getting into her good graces. The second she retired, you knew her post was as good as yours. But she just wouldn't leave. You weathered every complaint, every criticism. Always smiling over your morning tea. It would all be worth it. She had to die or retire any day. But she never did."

Celeste gaped at him before looking at Gus with a judgemental look. He just crossed his arms and stared back.

"Every day grated more and more… And you started to get ideas…" Shawn glanced into the front seat where several crime novels were stacked on the passenger seat. "You could do it… you just had to be smart about it. Then Vanessa gave you the answer on a silver platter. Who could ever suspect you next to someone like that? And luckily for you, the self-sufficient forager you are, you already knew where to find your murder weapon."

Celeste looked more and more like a cornered animal as Lassiter watched without saying a word. His hand stayed firmly on his gun.

"Every part of a nightshade is toxic. But you already knew that. It's why you always made sure to wear gloves when you picked its leaves. You made her tea every morning. Who would ever suspect that you changed up the tea bags?"

"They're my tea bags," Celeste tried to defend herself. "I make my own and bring them home to compost."

"That would be easy to prove if you let us test them," Lassiter said.

The car door stayed closed.

"You knew the nightshade would point to the fight," Shawn continued, "as long as they didn't find any evidence in the trash to point to you. But you had to really make sure the cops knew where to look. The note was a nice touch. Very Agatha Christie. Too bad it was also the only reason the death was even looked into…"

"N-No…" Celeste's eyes widened in horor. "Every death is investigated…"

Shawn stared her down. "But not every death gets a tox screen. Especially not for 87 year olds who collapse after overworking themselves. To think, if you'd just been a bit smarter, you could have had it all..."

Anger distorted Celeste's attractive features as she snapped. "I deserved that promotion! I worked harder than everyone there, I listened to every single petty complaint she had. She should have been gone years ago! Everyone wanted her dead!"

Shawn pressed his advantage. "And you decided to speed things along."

"She'd already made three other librarians quit, but the board loved her money too much to kick her out. I did what I had to do!"

Only the sounds of the passing cars could be heard as Celeste's jaw dropped and she seemed to realize what she'd just said. Lassiter pulled out his handcuffs and grabbed her arm. "Celeste Brown, you are under arrest for the murder of Agnes McKinsley."

As he finished reciting her rights, Shawn gave Gus a large triumphant smile. Gus smiled weakly back, unsure what to feel. They'd done it, they'd solved a real case. But they'd also just sent a woman to have her humanity stripped away. But they'd saved another woman from the same fate. The cops were going to call them again; they'd have to do this all over again. But Shawn was so happy and himself, how could that be a bad thing?

"Guster." Lassiter approached them after handing the cuffed murderer to the other officer. "That was…" he glanced over at Shawn before straightening his shoulders. "Your contribution was… adequately useful. I'll be sure to make note of it in my report."

"You're welcome," Gus said. Lassiter was still scary, but he'd been willing to listen and change his course of action when he'd been given new evidence. That made him as close to an ally as they could get. "Now what?"

"Now…" Lassiter sighed as he looked at the car with their evidence. "Now is the paperwork. You'll need to be available if we need a statement, but you can go home for now. Do you need a ride?"

"Yes, please," Gus answered immediately. He'd had enough of taxis for one day.

Lassiter glared at the car for another long moment before turning away with a grumble. "I can't believe I'm going to have to put 'psychic' in my report…"

Gus heard a quiet snicker behind him as he followed the officer to the car.

The dorm room was peaceful that night, a pocket of safety as Gus laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. The darkness gave him the space to finally let himself think everything through.

He'd lost control twice today. That was unacceptable. It didn't matter that he was being pulled in too many directions and he kept seeing darkness everywhere he looked. It didn't matter that he couldn't see a way out. There was too much riding on him. He had to be ok.

And, he could honestly say he had fun while working the case. He'd been able to use his mind in new ways, he'd been able to think on his feet, he'd been able to make a difference. And Shawn had completely stolen the show. Seeing him lay everything out at the end had been like pulling back the curtain and seeing the man he would have been if he'd been allowed a normal life. It had been good.

But there'd been a cost. And he had to get his head wrapped around that before they were called again. Gus quietly said, "Shawn."

"Yeah," Shawn answered, confirming Gus' hunch that he hadn't been able to fall asleep either.

"Does it bother you that Celeste will get collared?"

"No…? Why should it?"

That hadn't been the answer Gus had been expecting. He propped himself up on an elbow to see Shawn better. "Really?"

"Yeah. She killed someone. That bothers you?"

He made it sound so simple. "I guess? I just… What happened to you isn't right. I can't see how letting it happen to someone else is right either."

"She killed someone," Shawn said again slower. "She chose to do that. And it didn't bother her when she tried to frame someone else for it."

"Yeah, I guess…" There was a sort of karma to the situation.

"Would it be better if she rotted in prison for her whole life? Or was allowed to walk free? At least this way she'll be useful."

Gus made a face and laid back down. Of course Shawn's training would tell him that. The part that sucked was that it actually made sense. "This world sucks."

"Yeah, you've said that a few times…" There was a shuffling of cloth and Gus could feel himself being x-rayed. "Why did you freak out?"

How was he supposed to explain that to Shawn? He saw things so differently. "Have you ever watched a movie as a kid and really loved it. And then you go back and watch it again when you're older and you see everything that's wrong with it? All of the old thinking, all of the casual bigotry. The lesson that's actually a terrible lesson…"

"Pinocchio," Shawn said immediately.

Gus huffed a laugh at the movie choice. He wasn't wrong. "Well… What do you do when you find you're living in that movie?" He quickly realized his mistake and added, "And don't answer that unless you want to. It was a rhetorical question."

"Is this because of the slave stuff… Or because you never thought about the slave stuff?"

"Both," Gus admitted. He'd spent so many years in ignorant bliss. He wanted to shake his past-self and force him to see things as they really were. Rub his nose in it like a naughty puppy.

"Does freaking out actually help anything?"

Gus groaned in frustration. "I know it doesn't. It doesn't stop me from having fucking feelings about it."

"We didn't send someone to be a slave today," Shawn said firmly. "We saved someone from being a slave today."

Gus sighed. "You're right."

They didn't get to choose how their world worked. But they could at least do their best to lessen its harm around them.

Which meant more cases. And more responsibility. And Shawn getting to be himself more often.

A new worry coiled around Gus even as his burden lightened. Shawn had proven himself today, but he'd also proven just how many risks he was willing to take. And Gus wasn't stupid enough to think it was a one time problem. The more Shawn was allowed to be himself, the more dangerous it would be for him. At this point, it wasn't a question of if he got into trouble, but when.

"Goodnight, Shawn."

"Goodnight, Gus."

Gus settled back into his bed. Helping the cops was good, but it was only a matter of time before it turned bad. It was like balancing at the edge of the abyss as the cliff crumbled away under his feet.

Hopefully he could find them a handhold before it was too late.

A/N: Friendly reminder as we get into the case-solving part of this story. Psych is a comedy crime procedural, which means my world will run by the same rules. While I'll probably put in small nods to reality when I can… coroner reports will always be ready when the plot demands, the cops will be as smart or as stupid as needed, and the bad guy will usually, if not always, be obvious by the end of the case.