(7 years ago)

Shawn watched, enraptured, as the street magician flared his hands to show they were empty before making a grand flourish. A flash of light burst out in front of him and a dove was suddenly flapping its wings on the magician's hand. Shawn clapped along with the rest of the crowd; that was awesome!

A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Shawn! What have I said about running off?"

"Only do it every other Tuesday and the last Friday of the month," Shawn answered his dad with a cheek splitting grin. "Look at what I found! Magic!"

"Magic's not real," his dad lectured as the dove turned into a bouquet of roses.

Why did he always have to ruin things that were fun? "Oh yeah? Then how did he do that?"

"Sleight of hand and cheap parlor tricks." The magician handed off the roses and dramatically held up a deck of cards. "Better yet… you tell me how he does it."

"He does it with magic," Shawn answered stubbornly. He wasn't going to give in that easily.

"'Magic' is lying to a crowd so idiots can applaud you." A man in the crowd looked back with a disapproving look and Shawn's dad quickly added, "No offense." The man shook his head and went back to watching the show. "I bet you a banana split that you can't figure out how he does it."

He could too figure it out. Shawn squinted his eyes and watched the magician carefully as he threw the cards into the air. His dad crouched to his height and pointed. "He's trying to dazzle you and control where you're looking. Don't let yourself be distracted. Focus on what's important, let the rest fall away. And most importantly… trust your gut."

Shawn's gut said he wanted a banana split. Shawn watched the magician carefully, ignoring the theatrics as he focused on the details. The magician dropped his hand as another burst of light poofed from the deck, and Shawn saw the moment he carefully folded the card into his palm.

(present)

Shawn watched Officer Lassiter carefully as he gaped and stared. He deliberately did not look at Gus and his broken promise of never doing things that would worry him again.

This was right, right? It felt right…

"That's insane," Lassiter finally managed to spit out. "Psychics aren't real."

The officer's hand drifted down to his handcuffs and Shawn dropped his gaze back to the floor. He couldn't press his luck. But he still had to defend himself. "Lots of people believe in psychics. Even the cop at the front desk."

Her charms and necklaces had all but given it away. Lassiter snorted in derision, making it clear what he thought of her. "That doesn't mean that I'll lie to the chief about it."

Gus unexpectedly chimed in. "You wouldn't necessarily be lying. You don't know how Shawn knows what he knows; neither do I. Who says he isn't psychic?"

Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all… It had been intriguing when it had only been Shawn involved, but if Gus was going to take risks for him…

"I do. Because psychics. Aren't. Real."

"Which would your boss believe more?" Gus asked, his voice shaking but resolute. Why was he standing up for Shawn when he clearly didn't think this was a good idea? "That you asked a slave for help, or that you asked a psychic who just happens to be a slave for help?"

Lassiter wasn't as inflexible as he was trying to believe. The fact that he'd even come to them was proof of that. He just needed one more push… Shawn glanced up for another look. Lassiter was by the rules, he clearly wanted to be on his boss' good side, the barely visible mark on his head spoke of some embarrassment… "You could use a bit of luck after the week you've had, sir. Maybe the chief will even think about that promotion…"

"How did he…"

"I told you," Gus answered. "I don't know how he does it. But he's right, isn't he."

If this actually worked, then he really needed to find some way to pay Gus back. Shawn couldn't even explain why, but he wanted this. Needed this. It was like someone was handing him a glass of water when he hadn't even realized he was thirsty.

"What happened to me not being allowed to take him?" Lassiter answered, avoiding the question in the most obvious way possible.

"I'm not letting you take him. But you can bring me to the station, and I'll bring him with."

Shawn tensed as the people argued over his head. He wanted this, and Gus was protecting him… but it still felt too much like people bartering over prices. He brought his focus back to the prize being dangled in front of him. He could be useful, real useful, in a way that his dad had taught him. It felt right, in a way few things had in the last six years.

He focused on that hope as the negotiations finished.

"Fine," Lassiter grumbled. "I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes."

"Thank you."

Gus had asked for time alone; he wanted to talk. Except when the door closed, there was nothing but silence. After a few seconds, Shawn chanced a glance up and saw Gus resting his head against the door. He listened closely and heard the telltale rhythm of deep, calming breaths.

"Gus?"

"Please tell me I didn't just make a terrible mistake," Gus begged without moving.

"You didn't just make a terrible mistake."

Gus just sighed. "Are you saying that because you believe it or because you're following the order?"

Since when had Gus known that was an order? Shawn answered truthfully, "Both."

"We just told a cop that you're psychic… All because we watched The Sixth Sense last night. How could that possibly be a good idea?"

"At least we didn't tell him that I see dead people," Shawn offered. The joke fell flat as Gus turned to give him an unimpressed look. Which had been happening a lot since Shawn had been caught. "If you don't like it, then why did you go along with it?"

Gus hesitated before flatly answering, "Because you had that look. The one that says you're going to do something no matter how risky it is."

"You could have stopped it…"

Gus let out a hollow laugh. "Sure. And then it's all you can think about until you figure out a way to do it on your own." His voice grew hard. "I'm not being left out again."

Shawn winced and dropped his gaze. It had been almost two weeks since he'd tried to run, and it still hung over every interaction they had. He'd been trying hard to be good; to be better. But clearly Gus still didn't trust him.

And, honestly, he was right not to. "So what now?"

"Now, we figure out a way to do this as safely as possible. And you better damn well believe I'll be making them orders."

Shawn nodded; that was fair. "What were you thinking?"

Gus let out a breath, like he'd been preparing for a fight. His voice sounded lighter as he said, "First, you don't go anywhere without me. Anything you say goes through me; we can say I need to interpret your 'visions' or whatever."

Now that was an interesting question. "What do you think a vision looks like?"

"I don't know," Gus answered, the eye roll obvious in his tone. "And I don't care. What's important is keeping us a package deal so they don't try to take you from me."

Shawn's heart fell in his stomach at the thought of hands dragging him away from Gus. The healing welts on his back ached at the thought and he wrenched his attention back to the present. It wasn't going to happen. Gus wouldn't let it.

"Yeah," Gus agreed, seeming to understand where Shawn's mind had gone. "We can't let that happen. So I'm ordering you to tell me whatever you figure out so I can tell the cops. And I'm ordering you to keep a low profile. No mouthing off or drawing attention to yourself. I can't… What happened last time can't happen again."

Gus was right to be worried. Shawn could feel the energy even now, coiling in his mind and settling in his joints, urging him to move and to act without thinking. But he could keep it under control. He had to protect Gus from it. Shawn met Gus' eyes and promised, "It won't."

Gus held the look for several seconds before nodding in satisfaction. "Good. Then I guess it's time to go."

Shawn scrambled to his feet and quickly got ready before Gus could change his mind. Conflicting emotions warred inside him. He was getting to solve crimes. He was going to be surrounded by cops. He was going to be useful. He was making Gus nervous. He was going to use his dad's trainings. His dad hated fake psychics.

"One last thing," Gus said with his hand on the doorknob.

Shawn straightened at the tone and met his eyes.

"I don't know if this will work, but…" Gus' eyes lowered to watch the collar. "if anyone asks if you're psychic, I order you to lie and say yes." He waited a second before relaxing. "And it just blinked green."

"Huh." That was a useful trick. "I guess I'm psychic now."

"And it's on me, not you." Gus took a deep breath. "Please let this not be a mistake…" He opened the door and they went to lie to the police.

Lassiter seemed to be wondering if it was a mistake too, if his scowl was anything to go by as he ushered them into the police station. Things looked the exact same as the last time they'd been in there, but instead of a feeling of impending doom, Shawn only felt the stirrings of excitement. And relief at how much fewer people were there at night.

Relief that Carp wasn't there that night.

His dad had worked with Carp quite a lot, but him and Shawn had never been close. The fact that he'd even recognized Shawn was surprising, but his warning still rang in Shawn's ears. "Keep it on a tight leash."

Gus' hand was tight around the leash, like he could hear the words too as they were escorted back to the rooms where Shawn had been held. Shawn forced his eyes down even though he wanted to take everything in. Gus was worried; he had to keep himself under control.

But he was actually getting to do something. Something big and new and exciting. Something without rules or boundaries.

Shawn fought to contain himself, to stay small and unobtrusive as they were let into a new room.

"Stay here: I'll be right back."

Shawn's body locked up, and Gus' wide eyes as he spun around made it obvious he recognized the order too. The door closed a split second later before anything could be said.

Gus scrambled for his pocket and glanced at his remote before he said, "I rescind all orders, I have control, I don't know if his overrides mine if he gives an order, I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Gus, it's ok." It really was; it had been a good reminder of his place. Shawn stayed still as his eyes roved around, taking in the camera in the corner, the interrogation table in the middle of the room, and Gus' panicked face in the mirror. "Honest."

"Really? Because you still aren't moving," Gus said in a worried voice.

"He probably doesn't expect me to move," Shawn explained. A small voice in the back of his mind grumbled that he wouldn't have to worry about order expectations if he was free. He ignored it and stayed still.

"This was a mistake…" Gus shook his head and walked around the room, like there was anything new to see in the empty corners. "How are you not freaking out about being back here?"

"It's not the same." It wasn't anywhere close to the same. There was a promise of something more this time instead of the promise of the end.

"Speak for yourself…" Gus muttered.

The door opened again before Shawn could think of what to say, and Lassiter strode by them to drop a file on the table. "Look through this and tell me what you see."

Gus spoke up, answering the question Shawn had just thought. "You can sit."

It felt wrong, being the only one sitting. But the feeling grew distant as he flipped the folder open and started to skim the documents. He'd never been simply handed this much information before. It was so much, almost too much. Would he be able to make anything out of it?

"Don't let yourself be distracted. Focus on what's important, let the rest fall away. And most importantly… trust your gut."

Information reshuffled in Shawn's mind as he listened to his dad's advice. First important part: the crime itself. He flipped through to find the crime scene photos and heard a gag behind him.

Poor Gus, he definitely did not deserve the gorey pictures after all he was doing for Shawn. But at the same time, the death was fascinating. He'd never seen a man's intestines before…

Which seemed important enough to keep in the back of his mind as he flipped through the sea of interrogation reports. The problem the cops were up against became apparent quickly. There were too many suspects. But his attention kept wandering back to the body whenever he tried to focus on motives and means.

Why kill him that way?

"What's taking him so long?" Lassiter griped behind him.

He was running out of time. He had to trust his gut, and his gut said to pay attention to the crime scene. Shawn flipped to the coroner's report as Gus answered, "He's seeing what he sees, just like you told him.

Lassiter's voice rose in sarcasm, "Here I thought he was supposed to be psychic and just know things."

"It doesn't work like that."

Shawn blocked out the bickering as he took in the report. Cause of death: blood loss. Which was to be expected. Except something still didn't make sense… He had to hurry, but the answer was right there; he knew it. He flipped back to the crime scene photos and finally realized what was wrong.

The victim had to have bled out long before the cutting was done. No one could have survived for long like that… so why had the killer finished the job if the victim was already dead?

Unless it hadn't been for the victim…

Fireworks went off in Shawn's brain as everything clicked together and made sense. A rush ran through him as he grinned at the bloody corpse that had given him the answers. He had it.

"You found something?" Gus asked without Shawn having to say anything.

He was supposed to go through Gus… and he was supposed to be psychic. They never did go over what a vision would look like… Shawn put his hand to his head, pressing his middle finger into his temple in what was hopefully a cool looking move. Lassiter snorted in the background, but that didn't matter right now. He'd figured it out. "I see… an argument. But not with the vic… Someone else. His partner. They want him to do something, something he doesn't want. He refuses, they won't accept that, they have to send a message…" he flipped to the initial police report. "But someone else found the body first. The receptionist wasn't supposed to come in that early…"

"A message?" Lassiter scoffed. "Do you have any idea how many people wanted this man dead?"

"Y-Yes…?" Was he supposed to answer that?

Gus took away any uncertainty as he prompted, "Why a message?"

He had to find a way to thank him when this was all done. "They kept cutting even after he was dead. Why do that unless it wasn't for him?"

"So they expected his partner to find him," Gus finishes the thought. "They're trying to intimidate him."

"He couldn't possibly know that," Lassiter complained.

"Why not? You asked him what he saw and he told you."

"I wanted him to find me more evidence, not make up a harebrained story."

But it wasn't harebrained… It made sense. Hundreds of arguments and insults came to mind. If he'd been free, he'd be able to say them... But he'd been ordered to not make a scene. He stayed quiet.

Besides, Gus was arguing plenty for the both of them. "Well that's what he saw. You're the one who decided letting us see the case was a good idea."

"An obvious lack of judgment."

There had to be more evidence to prove his theory. Shawn blocked out the people and brought both of his hands to his temple to concentrate. He pulled up the transcript of the partner's interview in his mind and read through it. Everything read like he'd expect from a lawyer. Except… Shawn's eyes snapped open. "Sir?"

"What is it?" Gus asked immediately.

Gus said he'd wanted to interpret the visions… Shawn freed his energy and let it take control as he flung his hand in front of him. "I'm seeing something else… But it's hazy. Men, so many men, a dozen of them. Arguing around a table. And… baseball tickets? Burning a hole in their pockets…"

Gus answered a second later, sounding completely bewildered, "... Twelve angry men?"

"Yes!" Shawn shuffled through the papers, making the movement look frantic. "There's something here, a link…"

"He was a lawyer…" Gus thought out loud. "A trial?"

Shawn didn't fight his smile as Gus did his part beautifully. "That's it!" He stopped at the lawyer's transcript. "He was worried about a trial he was going to. He mentioned it twice." He rolled his eyes back, relishing in the dramatics. "He… he listened to the message. He lost his case."

There was an expectant silence before Lassiter said, "That's circumstantial evidence at best."

"He did what you asked him to. Just because he didn't say your theory was right doesn't mean he's wrong."

That was impressive. Shawn had guessed the same thing, but it hadn't seemed like his place to say anything.

"I'll be taking that back." Lassiter took the file and snapped it shut. "This was a mistake and a waste of time. You can take a cab back."

"Fine, but you're paying for it." Gus waited a beat as Shawn stood up. "Oh, and when you look into it and see that he's right, I expect us to get that reward money too."

Gus left with his head in the air and Shawn quickly followed behind, not trusting himself to keep his mouth closed if he took in the look on Lassiter's face.

The dorm was smaller when they returned, the walls closing in on them as they made their way to the room. The energy sung under Shawn's skin, begging to be let out again. But he had to lock it back away as Gus unlocked his door. It'd had its moment… and now it was gone. Just like that.

"Thank god that's done," Gus said as he closed the door and unhooked the leash. "I thought he was going to arrest us for a minute…"

"Yeah…" Shawn didn't move; trapped by the door. Trapped by his life. He'd thought… he didn't know what he'd thought.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine," he answered automatically. And he was fine. Nothing had changed. Not really.

"I wouldn't let them arrest you," Gus reassured him. "You were doing exactly what he'd asked."

"I know." He did; Lassiter followed the rules too much to have arrested them without a good reason. Why had he come to them in the first place? It would have been easier if Shawn had just kept living on in ignorant bliss of what he wanted.

"You don't seem ok…" Gus nodded to the bed and Shawn realized he'd just been standing there in thought. He sat on the edge of the mattress, still feeling disquiet.

"Is it the case or something else?"

Gus was trying to help, but he shouldn't. Shawn had made things bad just a few weeks ago and then Gus had still let him go back to the station. "I'm ok. Honest."

"Ok, you're ok." Gus shrugged with a worried look. He hesitated before saying, "We can talk about it, though. If you need to."

Gus was worried about him, and that wasn't right. Gus had done enough for him. Maybe he'd offer for them to go to one of the dance studios tomorrow, so Gus could do something he liked without having to worry about anything. "Like you said, it's good we weren't arrested. It's been a long day though."

"Yeah, it has been," Gus agreed. He thought for a second before asking, "how did you know the lawyer had lost his case?"

"I didn't… Not really. But he didn't tell the cops about the warning, and you don't warn a lawyer to win a case…"

Gus nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that makes sense."

The room was silent as they both got ready for bed, and Shawn stared at the ceiling, his mind racing too much to sleep.

Did Lassiter listen to him? Was he right? He was pretty sure he was right; all of the pieces fit. If he'd been free, would they have listened?

That thought kept coming up for him. What if he'd been free?

He'd had two hours of real freedom, and now he couldn't help but constantly compare the rest of his life with it.

People had looked at him and smiled. He'd been able to choose for himself whether to cross the street or not. He'd been able to walk around without having to be aware of where anyone else was besides himself.

And now he was stuck in these same four walls. People talked over him again. No one looked at him.

It shouldn't matter; this was the best life he could have asked for. Gus was a one in a million chance encounter. Shawn should be dead or broken and bleeding in a cage somewhere. How could he be disappointed when he had a full belly every night and a master who actually cared about him?

Except he couldn't deny that it was disappointment he felt. He knew he couldn't try to run again; it had hurt Gus too much. Helping the cops had offered the same feeling. Being seen, being heard. Being important.

And it was gone. Torn from him just like his bid for freedom.

"Hey," Gus' voice spoke through the faint darkness. "If you're still awake, I have a question."

Gus had been having trouble sleeping for the last couple of weeks. Guilt ran through Shawn like a rush of vile water. Gus had given so much, and it had cost him. So much. "Yeah, what's up?"

"When you ran… Were you happy?"

It was a loaded question, but Gus deserved the truth. "Yes."

"Do you… Do you think you'll ever be that happy with me?"

He wanted to answer yes, he hadn't wanted anything that badly. Gus was good. "I don't know."

Gus' breath hitched, echoing in the silence surrounding them. "Are you going to run away again?"

That answer was easy. "No. I promise."

Nothing was said for several minutes as they just existed in their current reality together. Shawn was just starting to suspect Gus had fallen asleep when he spoke again. "I'm sorry. That it's like this."

Gus deserved better. "Yeah… Me too."

Shawn's small voice spoke up in his mind. Pointing him to a truth that he was finally ready to admit. He deserved better too.

A/N: I really wanted to give you guys one more chapter before going on hiatus again, but the damn thing still isn't written. *Glares at the boys for being uncooperative*. It'll probably be a few months again as I rebuild the buffer again.

I'm still loving this story, so I promise it's not ending here. My writing has just slowed down to 200ish words a day, which means it takes a lot longer to get a 5k chapter done than it has in the past. Thank you all for your encouragements and patience, I look forward to posting again!