They had set up a briefing room with crime scene photos on all four yellow walls. A large photo was a close-up of blood, presumably his own, covering the ground in the storage yard where he'd been shot. The car and the pick up that he'd had the pleasure of being transported in were displayed on a different wall. And finally, the inside of the gas station where he'd been tied up and kept for hours while in excruciating pain took up a whole two walls, even covering the back of the door.

Shawn paced the room, studying each image. He felt numb, as though he was peering into someone else's life. No flashes, no sparks. Maybe it was Juliet's presence pulling his focus, or maybe the memories were locked deeper than he thought.

He glanced her way but she seemed determined not to make eye contact. And fair enough, he supposed. She'd asked for space and was now being forced to work with him. This was hard enough for him and he could only assume that she was miserable about this turn of events. After all, the last time she'd spoken to him there had been so much pain and anger in her voice. Up until that point it hadn't truly hit him how much he'd hurt her, or how impossible it was to go back.

Shuddering slightly at the all-to-familiar heaviness enclosing his chest, Shawn kept up his perusal of the photographs, trying to concentrate. When he got to a large pin board that had the papers from Rollins' file plastered over it he paused. A desk sat in front of the board, laying out some of the papers that couldn't fit on the board as well. They contained information about his home address, known affiliations and criminal history. Apparently his behavior in prison had been exemplary before the shock breakout.

"Getting anything?" Gus had just slipped into the room, smoothies in hand. He passed one to Shawn, which he accepted gratefully. Not being able to leave sucked. Shawn didn't like feeling trapped at the best of times, let alone when he was having to recall his own kidnapping. Gus, always intuitive, had offered to fetch jerk chicken, tacos, or smoothies, but Shawn knew he'd still go stir-crazy if this wasn't resolved soon.

"No." Shawn took an obnoxious slurp of his smoothie, watching out of the corner of his eye to see both Juliet and his father scrunch their noses at the sound. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for."

"Anything that will tell us where Rollins might go I guess." Gus took a sip of his own smoothie before continuing. "Something that triggers a memory of something he said?"

"That's the thing, man." Shawn spoke in a hushed tone, glancing at Juliet and his father to make sure they weren't in earshot. "I'm not getting anything."

Gus gave him a sideways look. "Nothing?"

"Not a thing. Not a spark of inspiration, no flashbacks, no memories of that joyful time. Nothing." He leaned in closer to Gus. "Is this what it's like to be normal?"

Gus tsked and pushed Shawn's shoulder with his smoothie-less hand. "Focus, Shawn."

"Gus, don't be the drummer from Def Leopard's left arm. I'm telling you," he put his fingers to his temple and tapped it, "Maybe it was the all nighter C.O.D sesh with Dennis, but I think I've broken it."

"Shawn."

Jumping at the deep voice, Shawn whirled to face his father. Henry stood, arms folded over his classic red Hawaiian shirt, a deep frown on his face that was so usual for him Shawn wondered that he didn't have permanent crevices in his face from it.

"Hey, Pop. Want a sip?" he held out his smoothie with a grin, hoping a miracle would occur and it would distract his father. Fat chance of that.

"This is serious, Shawn."

"What's serious is the smell of fish. You couldn't have changed?"

His father growled, actually growled! "Every minute we waste, Rollins gets further away and harder to catch."

"You don't think I know that?" Shawn set down his smoothie on the desk, placing it spitefully on top of Rollins' glowering mugshot. "I'm trying here. I'm just not getting anything yet."

"What's going on?" Juliet looked from Gus to his father to his smoothie—anywhere but Shawn's eyes.

Henry frowned, arms crossed. "Shawn's not thinking clearly." He looked at the wall of photos then back at his son. "You buried those memories for a reason. Now you're trying to dig them up, but it's not that easy."

"I didn't bury anything. I can't bury anything. You know that."

"Go on then." Henry gestured around the room. "Tell us where Rollins has gone."

Shawn felt his cheeks flush. "I'm not a circus animal you can wheel out to perform tricks. I need some time."

"Shawn." Juliet's voice held a touch of concern that he ached to lean into. She was actually looking at him too, that spot between her eyebrows furrowed adorably in concern. "It's okay to have suppressed this. It was the worst day of your life."

"Third worst at most."

Henry scoffed and folded his arms, instantly defensive. "Shawn, will you stop throwing the day your mother left around like a weapon!"

Shawn blinked in surprise. Although he shouldn't have been. Of course his father thought that was a dig at him. And a few years ago it probably would have been, but hadn't they moved past that? "Oh, Poppa Bear." He slung his arm around his father's shoulders, feeling them stiffen as his crossed arms tightened even more. "Mom leaving doesn't even make the top five these days."

"It's definitely lower than when Curt Smith didn't come to your birthday last year," Gus chipped in.

"Ouch, buddy. I didn't need reminding of that one. It's also lower than when Jamba Juice ran out of pineapple."

His father threw off Shawn's arm and shook his head in frustration.

Gus made a sound of agreement. "You know that's right. And lower than when we found out that R.E.M broke up."

"Everybody hurt with that one, Gus," Shawn said solemnly, reveling in the growing annoyance growing on his father's face. Of course it was also creeping into Juliet's face but that couldn't be helped. "But." He looked his father directly in his eyes. "Nothing quite tops seeing your father get shot and bleed out for the worst day of all time."

All the tension drained from his father's face as his expression shifted to a genuine surprise that actually hurt Shawn's feelings a little. Did his father really think so little of him?

"Except maybe the Jamba Juice debacle," he quickly added.

Henry ran his hand over his face with a sigh but Shawn noticed the small quirk of his mouth that was the barest glimmer of a smile. "Fine. Third worst day. But that doesn't change the fact that you haven't talked about what happened at the gas station since the trial."

Shawn flinched. The trial had been almost as bad as being shot and kidnapped. Less physically painful, sure, but seeing the look on his father's face as he'd had to describe everything in excruciating detail had been a gut punch.

"Maybe I locked some memories in a box and threw away the key." Shawn ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "I just need time. It's all in there somewhere." His hands balled into fists. "I'll figure it out."

"Time is what we don't have," Juliet said. "The longer he's out there, the more likely it is he'll hurt someone."

Shawn stared at her, wishing he really was psychic so he could read her mind and understand what she was thinking. Did she hate him? Was there really no hope at all? And what would she think if he failed to solve this case? She looked away first, her gaze catching something behind him. When her face paled, he turned to look.

A photo of the partial interior of the gas station was blown up on the wall. In the photo, a metal chair with broken pieces of duct tape lay sideways on the ground. A chill ran through Shawn as he stared at the blood—his blood—smearing the chair and duct tape. His throat tightened, but he pushed the feeling down. That room held the answers. Shawn felt it in his bones. No, he wasn't really psychic, but his gut got him a long way.

"We should go to the gas station," he tested the words carefully, not sure how he felt about them.

"How is that going to help?" Juliet asked, her voice edged with frustration. "What difference will it make?"

Gus got the answer first. "You need to place yourself there." He hesitated a moment, his gaze searching Shawn's. "Walk through each moment again, see what you missed."

At Shawn's nod, shock twisted Henry's face. "Hold on, you want to relive everything, moment by moment?"

Gus just looked thoughtful. "A kind of immersion therapy."

"Absolutely not." Henry shook his head vigorously. "Gus, surely you agree with me. That is a terrible idea. You know that this would be nothing like simply remembering what happened."

"I know." Gus looked from Henry to Shawn. "I know."

It was a brilliant idea, if Shawn said so himself. Also, completely horrifying. Shawn had thrown himself back into memories before, but never to anything traumatic. Having to relive it was risky. He could control the flow of memories normally, but could he do it if he genuinely felt like he'd been shot again?

Then again, risky ideas were his specialty.

"You said it yourself, Dad, every minute we waste gets Rollins further away."

Henry stared at him in disbelief. "Do you think I'm going to care about that if my son ends up as a drooling body at a mental institution?"

"What?" Juliet's eyes widened and she looked at the three of them. "Hold on, Shawn. You know I can't let a civilian step into danger. What exactly are you planning on doing?"

"Dad's just being dramatic." He gave an excellent imitation of a confident smile that hid how absolutely terrified he was. "You said you didn't want to know how I do what I do, and I respect that, so you'll just have to believe me when I tell you that this is the best way to get what we need."

"Shawn!" His father had his don't mess with me tone on.

"Dad, I can control it. You taught me how. I'll be fine."

"And we'll be here to pull him back, Mr Spencer," Gus added.

Henry didn't look convinced but started to get that resigned look on his face.

Shawn tossed his now-empty smoothie container in the rubbish bin, making the basket perfectly. It was the ultimate plan. He'd catch the bad guy, Jules would be impressed enough to let him work cases with her again, and if he had to go through some pain, well that would make it worth it. He grinned at everyone in the room. "We'll have what we need in no time."