#psychfic
Text
Henry Spencer Is A Bastard (With A Broken Nose)
Shawn and Jules have been living together for two weeks when Jules storms into the precinct, grabs Lassiter by the arm, and drags him into the interrogation room.
“O’Hara, what the hell is-”
“You’ve spent time alone with Henry,” she says, sitting Lassiter in the suspect chair. “What was he like?”
“What?”
“This is important, Carlton.”
Lassiter sighs, looking around the room for a moment before answering. “Unpleasant and judgemental. He had every quality of a great cop but none of an actual person I’d spend time with.”
“Which for you is saying something,” Jules mumbles, looking to the side. “Would-would you say you think he’s capable of intentional child endangerment or neglect?”
Lassiter sits up more. “What? O’Hara, what is this about?”
Jules takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands. “I was helping Shawn get some stuff from his old room, and we found an old journal from when he was a kid.It was mostly just doodles and half-finished homework, and he said to just throw it away, but… I kept it. I thought it was cute, to be able to look at what went through his brain as a kid.”
“O’Hara. If you’re alleging what I think-”
“I read more later while he was out with Gus and one of the pages was a failed writing assignment. He was supposed to write about what he did over the weekend and he wrote that his dad locked him a trunk and made him pretend to be kidnapped.”
Lassiter lets out a breath. “Okay. But you and I both know Spencer’s imagination-”
“Carlton, remember the kicked-out tailight? When he got shot?”
“O’Hara, I was with Henry through that whole investigation, and I don’t think I can say that the man I investigated with would purposefully hurt or neglect his son. He was like a machine through the whole thing.”
“There was more, though, Carlton. One of the assignments was to write about how they spent Easter and Shawn’s said he got cut on some glass trying to dig up his eggs. He drew a picture, it-”
She pulls out her phone and hands it to her partner. Lassiter looks at a crude drawing of a small stick figure on it’s hands and knees, overly-large shards on the ground in front of it, and an egg a good few lines below it. There’s a taller stick figure behind the small one, with a wide-open mouth and the words ‘You can do better, Shawn,’ written beside it.
The teacher’s note on the side says that Shawn needs to stop making up stories for assignments about his real life.
Lassiter hands the phone back. “O’Hara…”
Jules sits back in her chair a bit, the tension giving way to a slumped tiredness. “I know they’ve never had an… easy relationship, but Henry has always been so present, ever since we’ve known Shawn. I thought that was a good thing and Shawn’s discomfort was just Shawn being… Shawn.” She looks down at her hand in guilt. “What if I completely missed that he has reason, Carlton?”
Lassiter grabs one of Jules’s hands. “O’Hara, Henry Spencer is a bitter, unlikeable, and overbearing old man- but I really don’t think he’s capable of child abuse.”
Jules holds his hand back and gives it a squeeze. “I just… don’t know how to ask Shawn if these are real. He’s not exactly forthcoming about messy emotions and memories.”
Lassiter nods, and then blinks. “So let’s ask Guster. They’ve been stuck together like flies on a flytrap forever.”
Jules shakes her head. “If Shawn isn’t going to say anything, I really don’t think Gus will.”
“Well, you can either ask Guster if these are real, or you can worry about it forever and never get any answers.” Lassiter knows his partner well enough to know that’s unacceptable to her.
She gives his hand one more squeeze. “I’m just worried. Henry works here. He’s in charge of Shawn.”
“And I’m sure that when we talk to Guster about all this, we’ll learn that Spencer was just exaggerating like he always does.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus reads the page with wide eyes. “Wait, he was serious about that?”
Lassiter stifles the urge to shout ‘Come on!’ when he hears Jules suck in a breath.
“You mean you knew about this already?”
“I mean, Shawn told me once that he liked Easter at my house way more because there was no ‘manhunt training’, but I thought he just meant something like when his dad would have him stakeout their porch.”
“He what?”
“It, sounds worse than it is. … I think.” Gus looks down at the old notebook again. “I thought. … I mean, Henry was always a little intense. When Shawn and I were boyscouts he used to set up challenges that were impossible to win, and then make us feel bad for not winning.”
“What do you mean, impossible to win?” Lassiter is starting to get concerned now. Shawn’s incessant need to show everyone up has been a pain in his ass for years, and if Henry reinforced that grating attitude and now acts like he tried to quell it-
“Stuff like telling us to go find a rocket in the middle of the woods and then going and grabbing it himself. He used to promise us ice cream if we won, then say he’d eat it himself if we didn’t win next time.” Gus’s face pinches the more he talks about the memories. “Gosh, I haven’t thought about that in years. I guess I didn’t realize how messed up that is until I said it out loud.”
“It’s horrible,” Jules says.
“But not criminal,” Lassiter reminds her. “And as… weird and dangerous as the eggs thing is, that’s not criminal either. … I think.”
“What about the trunk, Carlton?”
“... Yeah, that part’s looking pretty bad.”
Gus shuts the notebook. “We need to talk to Shawn about this. I don’t know if I’m even remembering right, but I know he will.”
“He’d never open up about something like this,” Jules says, gesturing to the notebook and letting her arms drop back to her sides with a flop. “He barely tells me about his childhood at all.”
“Well I was there for most of it, and I need to make sure I didn’t miss some serious abuse going down for our entire lives. Do you know how many times I’ve defended his dad to him, Juliet? … Oh my god, on that same boyscout trip with the rocket, he told me his dad had never said he loved him!”
Lassiter doesn’t need to look at Jules to know she’s probably seething with the rage of the entire underworld- if he believed in such a thing.
Henry better hope they find out it’s not as bad as it’s seeming.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Shawn gets home, Jules, Lassiter, and Gus are all sitting on the couch looking somber. Well, Jules and Gus look somber. Lassiter looks mildly offput.
“Guys! What’s all this, are we having some kinda surprise party?” Shawn looks around for decorations, but there’s nothing. He looks back with excitement. “Is it a case? A big one?”
“Shawn, sit down, we need to ask you about something.” Jules gestures for him to take a seat on a different chair.
“Uh-oh. That’s not your happy voice.” Shawn sits down and leans forward. “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”
Jules takes a deep breath, and pulls out the notebook. Shawn looks at it. “Oh, that? Please don’t tell me that my drawing skills when I was eight are a dealbreaker.”
“Shawn, did Henry…” Jules falters. Shawn’s expression…
It doesn’t harden, per say. It just… shifts. Becomes a little closed-off.
“Spencer, did Henry actually make you dig through broken glass to find ridiculous holiday candy?” Lassiter says, offering Jules his hand for support. She takes it.
Shawn’s mouth quirks up in the corner, a huff-laugh escaping him. His eyes aren’t as amused, a dark look in them. “What? How-how’d you know about that?”
“Oh my god.” Gus looks sick.
“Guys, seriously, what is this?” Shawn reaches out and snatches the notebook, flipping through it. Fast at first, and then slower. The slight smirk disappears completely, and Jules and Gus know that habit of sticking his tongue over his teeth means Shawn is not in a good emotional space whatsoever as he reads.
He closes the notebook and tosses it onto the coffee table, sitting back into the chair and sniffling. “It’s uh- it’s nothing.”
“Dude, that is not nothing. I thought you were making that stuff up when we were kids!”
“What? Why would I make that up?” That just seems to confuse Shawn.
“Because you were always making things up!”
“Not about my dad! You were like, the one person I could talk about him with! You thought I was lying about everything the whole time?” Now he looks hurt.
“Not everything, but crazy stuff like him locking you in a trunk in the middle of a hot day and putting broken glass over your eggs, yeah! Oh my go- this makes me look back on everything I know in a completely different light, Shawn!”
“Okay, you can’t actually be this surprised, Gus. I mean, you were at my house all the time, you know how he was. We couldn’t even play hide-and-seek without me getting a lecture about hunting perps the right way.” The bitterness in his voice is familiar to his friends, the way he keeps from meeting their eyes, the arms crossed over his chest and tense body language. It’s not that they’ve never seen him like this. But they’ve never seen him like this and truly understood it. Even Gus.
Gus, who looks increasingly horrified as he thinks back on more and more memories. “When we were really little and you told me your dad would throw you out for reading comics, were you serious?”
Shawn scoffs a little. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Did he actually ban them?”
“... Yeah. That part he did. He said they made cops look bad.”
“Good god, Spencer, you’re talking like everything in your house was about cops twenty-four-seven.”
“Gee, Lassie, I wonder why. You’ve met my dad, right?”
“But you’re talking like he expected you to be a perfect cop from the second you were born.”
Shawn goes silent. He still won’t look at any of them.
“Oh, my god.” Jules reaches out to put a hand on Shawn’s knee. “Shawn, did he expect that?”
“... Look, guys, it’s… it’s done, alright? It is what it is, and… I’ve accepted that, and I’m working on making things work with my dad. I don’t… I don’t need this. Okay? I don’t want to think about it and get all…” He huffs. “Last time I thought a little too hard about all this stuff I ended up on my motorcycle with nowhere to go, and-and I don’t want to do that again, alright?”
“Shawn, this is important. We’re all working with Henry constantly, watching how he treats you, and this changes how some of that looks.”
“How?” Shawn finally looks at Jules, right in the eyes. “How does this change anything? He’s the same person, Jules. He-he’s controlling, and-and expects way too much, and is disappointed in me. That’s not different now just because you know he went overboard with stuff when I was a kid.”
Lassiter lets out a deep breath. He’d really… really been hoping this wouldn’t be the case. “How overboard, Spencer?”
Shawn looks at Lassie, and then clicks his tongue and looks away again. “Not in that way, man. He never hit me or anything.”
“So what did he do?”
“Why is this an interrogation?” Shawn stands up, pulling away from Jules’s outstretched hand. “This is stuff for me, and my dad to hash out, okay? Just me and him.”
“Did your mom know about this stuff?” Gus asks.
The mention of his mom seems to make Shawn shut down even more. “Now this is really over.” He walks away, and pauses for just one second to turn around and say, “Don’t- don’t go my dad about all this. I don’t want…”
“... Don’t want what, Shawn?” Jules’s voice is soft and careful.
Shawn doesn’t seem to be able to find the end of the thought. He just shakes his head and walks back out the door.
The three sit in silence for a minute. Jules has tears in her eyes. Gus looks almost shellshocked.
Lassiter stands up. “Alright, I’m officially taking lead on this case.” He looks down at his partner. “O’Hara, find out who in the precinct knew Henry well and still works there. We’ll interview anyone who he might’ve talked to his son about, see if we can dig up any leads there.”
“Whoa, Shawn just said he didn’t want his dad finding out we’re asking about all this, and we just learned he’s way worse than we thought,” Gus says, standing up too. “We can’t start poking around the precinct, because in case you forgot Lassie, he works there!”
“Part-time.”
“He’ll know something is up.”
“Please. I think I know how to run a discreet investigation, Guster.”
“Could you hide something like that from Shawn?”
“... Of course.”
“No, you couldn’t, and if you can’t hide it from Shawn it’s a safe bet that you can’t hide it from his dad.”
Jules stands up. “No, Carlton is right. None of us realized how these pieces fit together until we all talked about it with each other, right? If Shawn won’t… can’t, open up to us about it, the next best thing is getting as many witness statements as possible.”
“Why? It just feels like digging things up to dig them up at this point.”
“Because Henry is currently in charge of Spencer’s livelihood, Guster.”
“I know! He’s in charge of part of mine too!”
“Right.” Jules looks up at Lassiter. “And if we can prove to The Chief that Henry has a negative, unreliable bias against Shawn, we can lessen some of that control!”
“As much as I’d hate to see Spencer off the leash again, I’d hate to be helping enable an abuser even more,” Lassiter agrees.
“Abuser is a strong word.” Gus doesn’t look like he feels that sentence is 100% true. “He wasn’t all bad a lot of the time. I mean, he loosened up on the comic thing when we were older.”
“We know he cares, Gus,” Jules assures. “But, caring doesn’t mean he didn’t do something wrong. Really, really wrong.”
Gus swallows, and then nods. “I know.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They collect a good few statements over the next week.
One statement claims that Shawn would play poker with some of the officers when Henry brought him to the station- why Henry was bringing a seven year old to an active police station and then not keeping an eye on him was something that went unanswered- and that Henry was obviously upset when he discovered this. Another statement corroborated the story, and added that he caught sight of Henry taking all the money Shawn made from the games and shoving it into the police donation box.
One statement was from an elderly file sorter, who claimed that Shawn was sometimes sent down to grab files for his dad and used to complain to her that henry would only buy Shawn cop car toys, and no others. When she’d asked Shawn if he wanted to be a cop when he grew up, Shawn had reportedly said quote, “Something about not getting a choice.” Other statements claimed, when this was brought up, that Shawn seemed very excited by the idea of being a cop when he grew up- until his arrest.
One statement, given by someone Lassiter vaguely remembers being rookies with back in the day, lends more credibility to the recollections of the elderly woman. The statement claimed that when the rookie would go on ride-alongs with Henry or work under him, Henry would almost always complain about Shawn. Everything from Shawn having an interest that didn’t relate to being a cop, to Shawn ‘acting like a child’ when he would have been under twelve according to the timeline, to Shawn ‘not even trying’ during a specific incident where Henry claimed Shawn forged his signature to go on a field trip and quote “hesitated for a second with his pen or something- I remember it was something really minor, and Henry couldn’t stand it. I thought it was weird that he was teaching his son how to forge signatures and then expecting the kid to never use the skill, but it wasn’t really my place to say.”
By the end of the week, Jules is steaming and Shawn hasn’t come around the precinct at all. Gus keeps dropping by, digging up old journals of his own to use as cross-references when possible. Shawn is quiet with Jules at home, like he’s waiting for something big to happen and he’s worried he could trigger it early.
It makes Jules more upset at Henry, because now her boyfriend’s emotional immaturity seems a lot less like a natural childish nature and a lot more like having genuinely never been taught how to handle anything.
No, according to the information she and Lassiter have gathered, it looks like all Henry taught Shawn was that winning is everything, being the best is non-negotiable, and Shawn was born to be a cop and anything that didn’t align with that idea just… shouldn’t be there.
“Wow.” Lassiter tosses the latest statement onto his desk. “And I thought Henry didn’t discipline Spencer enough as a kid. Some of this stuff makes it sound like Spencer grew up in a boot camp.”
“He basically did,” Jules says bitterly, reading over one of Gus’s old notebooks. “Gus wasn’t even looking for evidence of it, and these journals are full of casual, offhand observations that look worse and worse the more we know. Listen to this one. ‘Today Shawn was in a bad mood, and when I asked him why he said his dad stole his mood ring after showing him to turn the box upside-down. I said that’s cheating, and Shawn said it can’t be if his dad said to do it.’ Who the hell steals a mood ring from a kid?”
“You’re getting caught on the small stuff again, O’Hara.”
“I know, I know. I just- now that we know some of the major things, even the small stuff is making me just unbelievably angry.”
“Yeah, it’s rough to read. At least you and I wanted to be cops.”
“Right? No wonder Shawn ended up a psychic detective, how do you just do something else after being raised so specifically like that? And no wonder he-he buys EasyBake Ovens and goofs off all the time, he had it so strict as a kid…”
“Mmmmm… let’s not excuse every antic, O’Hara. A lot fo it is still just him being a jackass.”
“I won’t get into this with you again, Carlton.”
“Good, I don’t want to get into it again either. … Heads up.”
Jules closes the notebook and tucks it into a desk drawer as swiftly and inconspicuously as possible, Lassie doing the same for his file. Henry walks past them, barley sparing a glance as he makes his way somewhere else.
Jules stares daggers at him so intensely that if dropped to the ground covered with enough puncture wounds to imitate Julias Caesar, Lassiter would think it was a mild scene all things considered.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s three weeks since Jules found the notebook when Shawn rolls over in bed, puts his arm around, and mumbles “I have an eidetic memory.”
Jules puts her book down and looks at Shawn with furrowed brows. “What?”
Shawn sighs and sits up properly. “I have an eidetic memory,” he says again, “And… I don’t like looking back, because I remember everything perfectly. Which means I usually remember what I felt perfectly too, and it usually wasn’t great feelings.” He can’t look her in the eyes this time, either, but instead of the tense, protective body language of before, he’s holding a pillow close to his chest and slightly burying his face into it, almost sagging around it.
Jules starts to rub his back. She knows how hard this kind of… difficult emotional discussion, is for him. Now she even knows why- suspects why, really, because not all of it is proven in full, but still she thinks she can cout is as knowing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“About the memory?”
“Yeah. That sounds… really difficult to deal with, Shawn. Does Gus know?”
“Yeah, he knows. I think other than my dad, and… and you, he’s the only person who knows.”
“Shawn…”
“I just, I just want you to know… that I’m not asking you to drop it for no reason,” Shawn says, “Or-or because I don’t feel like it’s important. I know it is, I do. I just…”
“Don’t want to relive a lot of it,” Jules says softly. “... Shawn, does this mean you remember everything perfectly? All the time?”
“Eh… fifty-fifty. The ADHD gets in the way sometimes.”
“... But when it doesn’t?”
“I just try not to think about a lot of it.” Shawn moves again, to look her in the eyes, He takes a deep breath, and he looks a little pained. This kind of thing is painful for him, he’s so unsure how to navigate it. “I have to keep moving forward, Jules. It’d be so… so easy to just get stuck, forever, in all the stuff stored in my head. And I’m really, really trying to, I mean that. It’s difficult, and I’m not… always great at it, but I’m trying.”
“And you’re worried we’ll set you back?”
“No! No, I… I don’t know.” Shawn lets Jules pull him close to her chest and begin running her hand through his hair. “My dad and I don’t solve stuff, Jules. We just… argue over it. I’m getting tired of it.”
“... I understand.” She kisses the top of his head. “But I don’t like him being in charge of you when you’re a grown man anymore.”
“You think I do? … But it’s making him a lot happier than he’s been in a long time.”
“You should be happy too, Shawn.”
“Hey. Hey, I am happy.” He looks up into her eyes. “Look at me right now. I’m being cradled like a sweet little baby seal by the most beautiful, badass woman in the entire world. Of course I’m happy.”
Jules laughs a little and contorts a bit to kiss him on the mouth. “I’m glad you told me that, Shawn. And I promise, I won’t ask you to relive anything else for me.”
“... But you’re not going to stop investigating my dad, are you?”
“Did you stop with mine?”
“... Fair enough.” Shawn lays his head back down, and soon enough Jules hears soft snoring from him and mumbled phrases in his sleep.
…
An eidetic memory. Perfect recall.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Jules goes over everything they have so far knowing Shawn has a perfect memory, it makes her angry to such a degree that she thinks it might kill her. Not literally, but it feels strong enough.
She has some of Shawn’s old report cards, some statements she got from former teachers via social media contact, and some copies of pages of one of Gus’s old journals laid out in front of her, and she sees a pattern.
Shawn didn’t do good in school. His report cards are less than average, and are packed with notes about how he doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t seem to absorb any information, and doesn’t remember anything he’s taught. The statements from the teachers describe Shawn as hyperactive, passionate about everything but his schoolwork, and having difficulty with staying observant in class.
Gus’s old journals are full of the same, but also the opposite. Shawn didn’t pay attention in school, but sometimes he could pull something the teacher said from his memory word for word without even trying, and then a few entries later Gus would mention Shawn failed a test on that exact subject. Shawn got beat up because he told a bully he memorized the pattern of answers used in the math tests, but his dad told the teacher and let Shawn know he was doing it. And most of all, Gus writes about how freaky his friend’s ability to look at people and figure them out is. How Shawn notices almost everything almost all the time, and usually makes some dramatic conclusion that isn’t right, but he still notices things and Gus can’t figure out how Shawn fingers things out.
Detective training, and an eidetic memory, and psychic visions. Jules is now pretty sure that Shawn covers up some of his deductions using his visions- he’s known enough impossible information that they can’t possibly all be deductions in disguise, but when she thinks back there’s a few times where it’s obvious in hindsight he used his abilities to cover up the fact that he’s an incredible, highly-trained detective.
Maybe she’s jumping to a conclusion, but she finds herself thinking ‘Because Henry made him hate that he can do it so well,’ as she pieces it all together.
Gus’s journals lend a lot of credit to that theory. Shawn is smart, and Gus knows it, but Shawn acts dumb sometimes and Gus doesn’t understand why, and then Gus mentions that it’s weird that Henry kept Shawn up all night before to stakeout their porch and now Shawn is tired during Little League and Henry tells him to get his head in the game because Henry is the coach.
Henry is the coach, Henry is the chaperone on the field trip, Henry is their Scout Master- he’s in charge of every part of Shawn’s life except for school. And Maddie is rarely brought up, even when Gus writes about spending all day or night or even weekend at the Spencer house. Jules hasn’t seen Shawn’s Mom since Yang almost blew her up, and she just figured that Maddie wanted to stay out of Santa Barbara after that, understandably. She’s getting a different feeling about Maddie staying away now. It seems a lack of presence was her main impression in Shawn’s life, or at least, Shawn’s life through the lens of Child Gus.
So it was basically just Henry. And her heart aches for the thought of someone being stuck in a bad marriage, basically raising a kid alone, and that kid being as hyper and curious and chaotic as Shawn. But the ache is smothered in the sense of righteous rage when she reads other entries about things like a girl throwing a ball at Shawn and missing, and an ostrich choking on the ball, and Henry dragging Shawn away. The entry goes on to say that Shawn told Gus that Henry didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t do it, even after then-superior officer Captain Connors came in and tried to vouch for Shawn.
Henry always assumed the worst. Assumes, the worst, still.
Shawn tries so hard, sometimes, with his dad, and Jules is starting to realize that Henry doesn’t put the same effort in. He tries some, she knows it, she’s seen it, but she also sees him constantly berate, put down, and insult Shawn, publicly and privately.
Suddenly she remembers something from when Shawn went undercover on the dating show, something she’d been too upset over about Shawn being there at all to really take in in the moment.
“I’m sorry, this woman is way too good for my son. If it was me, I’d vote no.”
She doesn’t have Shawn’s memory, so without rewatching the clip she can’t be totally sure those are Henry’s exact words, but she’s certain that it’s the exact sentiment.
First of all, she takes a little offense to that for herself. But secondly and more strongly, she takes offense for Shawn. As she thinks about it she can remember the way Shawn tried to cover up the awkwardness in the clip, the way the girl on the show whispered “Is this a joke?” and the way it absolutely was not. The way Henry said that on TV, to Shawn’s face, with no hint of shame.
“O’Hara.” She looks up to see Lassiter holding a cup of coffee and a bagel for her. She takes them and Lassiter says, “There’s more steam coming out of your ears than there is that cup.”
“Sorry,” she sighs. “I just… I don’t know if I can control myself tomorrow when Henry comes back in. The more I dig into this, the more I want to just- go back in time and pick little Shawn up and take him somewhere better.”
“Well as much as we don’t like it, O’Hara, Spencer is who he is because he was raised the way he was raised.”
“I know. And I like, who Shawn is!”
“Inexplicably.”
“Carlton.”
“Mmm.”
“Anyway… I love Shawn, and who he is, all of him, but I still wish he could’ve been who he is without going through all of this. It’s not okay.”
“No. No, it’s not.” Lassiter sighs. “Look, O’Hara, put the case down for a while. At this point we’ve got enough to at least make The Chief doubt some of Henry’s intentions and judgements when it comes to Spencer and, well, that was the goal.”
“... Yeah. Yes, okay, I will… I will put this down for a few days.” Jules closes up the file and puts it back into her drawer. “Shawn is still less than happy I’m working on this, anyway. He understands why, but I know he wishes he didn’t.” He probably understands a lot of things he wishes he didn’t. Jules has had to grapple with the realization that she actually doesn’t know as much about how Shawn’s mind works as she thought she knew, and that it’s possible she’ll never know a lot of it. There’s more than just psychic visions to the mystery of his mind, and some of those mysteries are locked up with a key cast out of self-resentments and resentments of his dad.
God, she hopes she can keep up a poker face when Henry comes in.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her file is missing from her desk the next day, and so is Lassiter’s. They both know why.
They march over to Henry’s desk just as Gus comes in to collect a check, and all three end up standing over Henry as he openly and unashamedly reads through the Spencer Upbringing Case File. Gus takes a step back when he realizes that’s what’s happening, as does Lassiter.
But not because of Henry.
Jules looks murderous.
Henry purses his mouth in a frown and nods, raising up the file and then closing it and tossing it onto his desk in one smooth movement. “It’s comprehensive,” he says, like he’s grading a paper. “But it’s a bunch of biased bull.”
“Give them back.” Jule’s voice is ice-cold.
Henry shrugs, moving his head side to side for a second, still frowning, and then says, “Nah.” He takes the files, and drops them in the trash. “I think you owe me an explanation for why the head detective and his partner are investigating the way I raised my son. Why’d Shawn put you up to this?”
“He didn’t.”
Henry scoffs. “Yeah, right.”
Jules slams one hand onto Henry’s desk. The whole bullpen goes quiet.
“I was helping Shawn get something from your house, and I found a notebook,” she says.
“Oh, so, you found one of Shawn’s little projects where he exaggerated things to make himself look like a victim of the world?”
“I found the writings of a little kid who didn’t seem to realize at the time of writing that being locked in a hot car trunk and digging through broken glass for Easter Eggs wasn’t normal.”
Henry laughs, crossing his arms. “That’s what you have a problem with? It’s called training, detective. You went through it yourself.”
“When I was an adult, by my choice, and I sure as hell never had to dig through glass.”
“You’re really hung up on that.”
“Because it’s genuinely evil!”
Henry’s smug look melts into a scowl. “How dare you.”
“How dare I?! Do you understand how much all of this is still affecting Shawn, even right now?! He can barely talk about all of this!”
“Oh, well, he sure seem capable of reminding me of it.”
“Because you did it! You’re the only other person in the entire world who understood what was done to him in the name of training because you did it!”
“Done to h- you’re overreacting, detective!”
“I, agree, what is going on out here?” Chief Vick hurries over to Henry’s desk from her own. “Detectives, there had better be a damn good reason-”
“There is, Chief.” Lassiter reaches into the trashcan and pulls out the files.
“Karen, Detective O’Hara has allowed her romantic entanglement with my son to-”
“Henry was borderline abusive during Shawn’s childhood,” Jules interrupts, facing her Chief. Chief Vick’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open, a disbelieving laugh escaping her even as she accepts the files and flips them open. “You understand what it is you’re alleging, O’Hara, and against who?”
“I do, Chief, and I think our case file speaks for itself.” All eyes are on them now. Jules doesn’t back down. “I’m well aware of my emotional ties to this case, but I assure you I’m not allowing it to cloud my judgment. If I was, I wouldn’t have used the word borderline to describe the conclusions I’ve come to.”
“Karen, this is ridiculous.”
But Chief Vick is focused on the files in her hands. Her eyes flick up to Henry. “Is it?” She looks over to Gus, who’s been watching with the quiet tension of a prey animal waiting to make a run for it. “Mister Guster, can you genuinely testify to the validity and accuracy of the claims in these files?”
“Oh, um, well, most of those are from my own journals.” Gus’s eyes flick between Henry and Jules. “I’d say that’s even more reliable than just plain memory.”
“It certainly is.” Chief Vick turns her eyes back to the file. “Henry, I think after I’m done going through these we’re going to have a chat about some of your current responsibilities and extent of authority over consultants.”
“Oh, come on, Karen!” Henry looks around at the entire precinct staring, and judging. “This is completely unfounded, and-and blown way out of propor-!”
Henry doesn’t finish the sentence because Juliet O’Hara punches him in the nose.
There’s gasps from everyone in the room. Jules’s fist is bloodied. Henry’s nose went CRUNCH! when her fist made contact.For a long moment it’s like the whole room has collectively stopped breathing.
“I don’t make unfounded accusations, Henry,” Jules breathes. “Especially not when I have been building a case for over a month, and have watched Shawn completely close off whenever I asked him about this.”
Henry holds his nose, looking at Jules with fear that Lassiter and Gus don’t think is nearly intense enough. “Juliet,” Henry pants, blood streaming out from between his fingers. “This is insane.”
“Quiet, Spencer.” Lassiter moves Jules a little farther away. Her fist is still raised. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting my partner, especially not in the same way you do your son.”
“What?! You can’t believe all this too, Lassiter.”
“You know I’m not Shawn’s biggest fan, but if you think what O’Hara has done over the last month is anything less than the best damn investigation possible then I have to seriously reconsider some of our shared opinions of your son’s work.”
Gus glances at a box of tissues on Henry’s desk- and then subtly moves to knock them on the floor and kicks them away.
“Herny, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the precinct for a few days while this gets handled. O’Hara, I’m going to need to speak with you in my office.”
Jules lowers her fist, and nods. She knows she can’t just punch Henry and get away with it scot-free, and she accepts that.
No-one moves to help Henry. Not a single soul. He grumbles as he makes his way past Gus to grab a different box of tissues.
“It’s like he just sucks the respect out of people,” Henry grumbles.
CRACK!
No-one is more surprised than Gus when his fist slams into Henry’s jaw. Gus reels away immediately, shrinking and cradling his hand, as Henry goes down.
“Mister Guster!” Chief Vick moves forward to try and catch Henry.
“Uuuuh!” Guss whines, shaking his hand. “I-I mean, you don’t get to say that about Shawn! He asked us not to keep doing this! You gotta stop assuming the worst of him all the time!”
“When he earns it!” Henry barks out, then groans and spits. It’s mostly blood.
“You won’t let him earn it!” Jules is furious again. “How many killers does he have to catch for you to see that your son is an amazing man?!”
“It’s not about catching killers,” Henry says, spitting again. “It’s about growing up.”
“Says the grown man who can’t even tell his son ‘I love you’.”
“He doesn’t say it either.”
“That’s not helping your case, Spencer.” Lassiter has his eyes on Jules and Gus. “And considering I’m the only one on said case who hasn’t taken a shot at you yet, I’d say keep your mouth shut.”
“Oh, what do you know.” Henry spits a third time. The Chief looks about ready to punch him herself. “Father-son relationships are complicated, especially when the father wants what’s best for the son and the son just wants to throw everything away and get himself killed!”
“You wanted him to be a cop, Spencer, you didn’t exactly put him on a path to a peaceful and easy life.”
“I put him on the right path, and he never appreciated it, and that is what your case file should say!”
“You know what, Spencer?” Lassiter takes a step closer to the bleeding man. “I’ve put up with a lot of crap from both you and your son over the years, and you two are a lot more similar than you think. But one thing I can say that Shawn has over you is that he doesn’t mean it when he says stupid crap like that.”
“He looks up to you, you ass,” Jules adds. “And he is willing to put aside all of the things you say and do to him to have a good relationship with you. Do you understand how incredible that is? That you don’t even have to work to have him in your life? That he comes to you no matter how many times you tear into him for it?”
“He comes to me because he never listens when he needs to.” Henry’s face is starting to become very purple as the bruises set in. “I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but he needs, my help.”
“Exactly! And he feels like you’re reliable enough to give it to him, and you do! So why do you treat that as though it’s a fault? Do you have any idea what I would have given as a kid, and even now, to be able to just-just go up to my dad and say ‘I need help,’ and have him be there to help me? That means the world!”
“Not to Shawn.” Henry looks pained beyond just the broken nose and possible broken jaw. “The kid is too focused on himself.”
“You don’t know your son at all, then.” Jules turns and walks with The Chief to her office.
Gus shakes his head, grabs the check out of Henry’s paperwork pile, checks that it’s signed, and leaves.
“Oh, really? It’s up to me to take him to the hospital?” Lassiter looks around and then huffs. “Alright, Spencer. Don’t bleed on my seats, or my dashboard, or anything but yourself.”
“I’m not a bad father,” Henry says, still holding his nose. “I care about my son.”
“Yeah, and somehow Shawn knows that even though you act the way you do.” Lassie buckles Henry in for him so that the nose remains pinched. “But here’s the thing, Spencer. Your son is an arrogant, attention-hogging, impulsive, completely absurd person, and he didn’t just become like that out of a vacuum.”
“Yes he did. I did everything I could. I did everything right as much as possible.”
Lassiter sighs as he gets into the driver’s seat. “You seriously think that? You’d be okay with your grandkid being raised that way?”
“If they had Shawn’s potential, yes.”
“... Dammit.” Lassiter turns to Henry, and punches him in the gut. Henry coughs, and then chokes on his own blood, and then coughs again.
“What the hell?!” Henry gets out between hacks.
“O’Hara would’ve done it. I feel like I owed it to her. … And honestly, Spencer, after compiling that damn case, I’ve been wanting to do it for myself anyway. I already knew you were an overbearing perfectionist with a control issue, but you wishing your son was more like that than he is is even worse.”
“Shawn’s no perfectionist,” Henry wheezes.
“But he is overbearing with a control issue more often than not. Like I said inside, you two are a lot more similar than you think, and frankly I blame you for the parts of Shawn that go past mild annoyance and into infuriating obstacle.”
“I’d never just hand a collar over to save someone’s ego,” Henry coughs out.
“See, that’s where I wish Shawn wasn’t like you.”
“He’s handed you a collar twice.”
“What? He has not.”
And Henry must be a little delirious from the repeated blows, because Lassiter is pretty sure his next words of “See, this is why Shawn should’ve been head detective,” wouldn’t come out of him otherwise.
Lassiter grips the steering wheel tighter and makes a sharp turn into the hospital parking lot. “Well he’s not, and from the sound of things he never would’ve been anyway.”
“He could’ve been a perfect cop.”
“He’d have been miserable and you know it.”
“He’d be doing things right.”
“You’re hopeless.” Lassiter isn’t any gentler helping Henry out of the car than he was helping him in. “I’m not picking you back up when they’re done with you.”
“I’ll call Shawn.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” And Shawn will come, and probably be mad on his dad’s behalf, and will definitely be mad at all three of the punchers, because he loves his dad enough to overlook years and years of mistreatment that most people would probably consider ground for cutting contact. “And Spencer? If you ever insult O’Hara’s work again, or say anything that gets her that angry, I will help her cover up your disappearance.”
“You don’t mean that,” Henry scoffs.
“Try me.” Lassiter gets back in his car. “And if I hear from her that you’re still badmouthing your son to his face, I’ll make you disappear myself.”
And then he drives away.
And Henry walks into the hospital alone.
#psych#psychusa#psych usa#psych 2006#blood tw#blood mention#violence#juliet o'hara#carlton lassiter#burton guster#burton gus guster#shawn spencer#henry spencer hate#I hate Henry Spencer#psychfic#fanfic#my attemps at fanfic#abuse mention#child abuse mention#past child abuse mention
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You should consider posting your fics to Archive of Our Own! That's where I think most Roy/Jamie fans read fics at.
Hi Nonnie,
Thanks for rec but I'm actually on ao3 already and post most of my fics there (some of my earlier stuff is over on ff.net as well) including my Jamie fics.
AO3 Cuppa_Char
FF.net Cuppa Char
My stuff here on tumblr are just the prompts and my initial reactions to them/drabbles.
And for anyone interested, I did also (what feels an age ago), post a few Psych fic's here under CuppaChar
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#psych#carlton lassiter#shassie#shawn spencer#psych fanfiction#shassie fanfic#psychfic#writing#my writing#my work#tuesdaythe17th#Shassie fic
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so i watched extradition 2: the actual extradition part and i gotta say im surprised shawn/despereaux isnt very popular. its got like 10 fics on ao3 and its not the main pair in at least two of those
#psych#shawn spencer#pierre despereaux#shespereaux#i didnt include psychfic bc ngl i have no idea how that site works#🍍
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I went into my blog archive to check exactly when I joined tumblr (May 2013) for the tags of that last post and discovered the funniest fucking thing.
I joined tumblr in high school bc I was looking at One Piece Zoro fanart and eventually decided I needed an account, this is known canon to this blog.
But…
The Second Month after I joined– the entirety of June– all I posted about was fucking Psych. Nothing has changed at all guys. Eleven years and it’s still my favorite show, I’m still posting about it. Now, I’ve watched it since it aired in 2006. The first fanfiction I ever read was for Psych (remember psychfic? guys? anyone hello). So it’s not super surprising to me, really, I just forgot tumblr gave a fuck about Psych until the resurgence recently, it’s nice to know at one point in 2013 the fandom was still vibing on here.
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📸📸📸
CELEBRATE WITH ME!
Thank you so much, @utterly-in-like! I can’t wait to dive into your fics soon— I’m on my tasm!peter kick but I saw that you write Tony Stark, and Psych (your xover with white collar)??? Man it’s been a hot minute since I read any Psychfic.
Fun fact that’s one of the fandoms I used to write the most for back in the day. The fic I’m most proud of from that era was an insane Final Destination-themed crossover fic feat Shawn Spencer, Johnny Smith from The Dead Zone, Adrian Monk from Monk, and Xander Harris from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Yeah, it was a whole thing.
BUT enough about that - you ordered a pic of Andrew Garfield and I present to you, a GIF
This one is special. See, this one is yoga instructor!Peter Parker.
tw health/body issues, post COVID illness, sexy innuendo under the cut
You really hate your sister for this, despite her good intentions.
Instead of being a sympathetic ear to your complaints about your ping-ponging energy and your slow cardio recovery post-COVID, she went and actually tried to help you. Goddamn it—all she had to do was sit there and listen to you be miserable, with the occasional wheeze and cough as you try to do something physically taxing. Like taking out the trash. Or standing up too fast.
But no. Instead, she bought you one of those gift certificates for a package of weekly yoga classes. 12 weeks seems extravagant, and you told her so with a sour, sarcastic, “Oh. You shouldn’t have.” But then you realized it was a biweekly vinyasa in the middle of Central Park at the magic hour of 5:00am.
What a bitch.
“We can go together!” she said. “We’ll make it a thing!”
The “thing” was you showing up in the middle of a dewy field at the ass crack of dawn to greet 6 other strangers—your sister nowhere to be found—as she cancelled her membership the night before and neglected to tell you.
What a bitch.
You hate running. You have no time to go to a gym. And you haven’t ridden a bike since you were 9. But here you are, rolling out the cheapest mat you can find and an old bath towel, next to an array of all walks of life and all number of age.
Great. You’re going to wheeze with your jiggly ass in the air next to a 67-year-old Herculean, bald guy who brought nothing but too-short shorts, a beat up Neoprene bottle, and his own sweat to his practice.
You rolled your eyes, and that’s when you saw him.
The Adonis. The face of an angel. The sculpted build of a Michelangelo. This was way worse. It’s one thing to embarrass yourself in front of random strangers, but another thing to embarrass yourself in front of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
He wore a tight black tank and board shorts (fuck, was he also a surfer?) as he greeted the class, biceps bulging from the mat tucked underneath his arm.
“Morning! How’s everyone doing?” he smiled brightly.
With devastatingly dark eyes and a saccharine sweetness to his expression, his gaze landed on you and you felt your face heat up. It’s mid-50s temperature in New York this morning, and you didn’t dress warm enough, but suddenly you’re on fire and have the urge to take off more clothes.
The slightest twinkle sparked in his eyes as they landed on you. He bit his lip, taking you in. (Fuck, did he really just do that? Is there something on my face? Do I have a tit showing?)
“Are you my new student?” he grinned, something seductive and—excited?—trapped in his throat.
Your mouth was dry, nodding in a fugue state.
Student? Like he’s the teacher? You’re going to need to bring an apple to him next time. Why is your crotch already sweating?
“My name’s Peter, it’s good to have you join us,” he says, his deep voice pouring over you like honey.
Why is he staring at you like that?
“Today’s a great day to start, we’re going to take each position very slow,” he added.
Is he serious right now?
“Just try to relax,” he says with a smirk. “I’ll take good care of you.”
You’re breathing heavy again, you notice.
And Peter keeps his promise, guiding the class through gentle stretches and poses. You keep your eyes glued to his form. For science.
Muscles flexing and a light sheen sweat forming on his face.
His eyes find you more than anyone else in the group. He starts traveling through the group when he’s convinced they’ve got the sequence down. He’s a great teacher.
At some point, midway through your 3rd downward dog, you notice that he’s glided to your side. You hadn’t even seen him coming, your eyes fixed on the blades of grass in front of your face, when you feel two large hands gently press around your pelvic crest.
Your heart stutters the second he touches you, and the butterflies in your stomach carry the wind from your lungs.
“Just like this,” Peter whispers, only loud enough for you to hear, as he guides your hips back into a more pointed position. “You’re doing so well.” You notice him line up your hips with his, and you swear he could lift you up by your pelvis with just the strength of his fingers.
You love downward dog. You love anything with dogs. Doggy style, all the way. Every time.
And with his help, goddamn it, the stretch is satisfying. You feel your spine start to decompress. Air fills your lungs in short measured breaths. His hands remain on you, encompassing your hips and the small of your back, pulling you into a delicious pose.
“Right there. Does that feel good?” he coos.
This mother Hubbard.
You moan. And then clear your throat. “Yeah,” you cough, trying to recover.
You can’t see his face but you can feel the body heat reverberating from him. And you can hear that cocky grin in his voice as he whispers back. “Good girl.”
Somehow, you survived. It was at the end of the class, when everyone else bolted and you were struggling to roll up your mat and ignore just how SWEATY your crotch was, when Peter kneeled down in front of you to help you. You gaped at his long fingers, curling the rubber into a neat cylinder.
“So how was it? I hope we didn’t go too hard on you.” His voice was like warm syrup. His eyes were dark chocolate pools. His lips looked like sugar-coated cherries.
He was bad for your health, without a doubt.
“No, um, it-it was g-good,” you shyly replied. “I’m just a little rusty.”
“Well, we can work on that,” he gazed at you with a lazy half smile. It was clear he found your timidness amusing. Appetizing, even. “See you next week?”
“Yes,” you blurted out, without hesitation. “Thank you. Thank you, Master.”
Your eyes went wide, locked on his. The word drifted into the atmosphere, a balloon swept away, never to return. He quirked a brow upward.
Your face turned crimson. “Teacher,” you stuttered “Teach— Guru? I… I don’t know why I said that.”
He licked his lips as he stared at yours, unabashed and unafraid.
“We can work on that, too.”
CELEBRATE WITH ME!
Thank you for supporting fandom writers with a reblog and/or comment!
#lizzy’s 600.#Lizzy’s 600 celebration.#Lizzy writes!#peter parker x reader#Peter Parker imagines#Peter Parker blurb#Peter Parker Drabble#Peter Parker#tasm peter Parker#tasm!peter au#the amazing spiderman x reader#the amazing Spider-Man#the amazing spiderman#the amazing spiderman fluff#tasm imagine#tasm spiderman#andrew garfield spiderman#Andrew Garfield#andrew garfield x reader#Andrew Garfield x you#Peter Parker x reader#Peter Parker x you
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I logged into AO3 for the first time in a long while, and for the first time in an even longer while, I actually checked my comments inbox and I came across someone asking me if I'm the same writer who posted a particular story in a Psych chatroom years ago.
I had almost forgotten that this story even *existed*!! When the Psychfic forum was deleted, I never bothered to repost the story anywhere because I assumed that nobody had ever read it. (I had only posted it there in the first place because at the time, I hadn't made an A03 account yet. It's a MacGyver fanfic, of all things.)
Miraculously, I saved the thing and I actually managed to find it in my Drive. So, I guess tonight or tomorrow, I'll begin the process of posting it. I think I'mma flag it as a gift for this one reader as the best thank-you that I'm able to give them.
Day = made.
(although the story is somehow both better AND worse than I remember it... Be ready to cringe, ba ha ha!)
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🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?
🐇 Do you write for yourself, for others, or both?💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?
Eeeeee!!!
🥳 I started writing aaaaaat…. roughly 14 or 15-ish? Our family had just gotten our first computer (which right away should give some fair indication of how long ago this was. Hint - we’re talking late 80s). At that time I had been heavily invested in Star Wars novels and had recently read “The Courtship of Princess Leia”. So, being incredibly confident in my skills as a writer, I determined that I was going to write the next book in the saga using our brand new IBM Zeos Clone II. I won’t bore you too much suffice to say it took 5 years and I did actually finish the story. Somewhere it still exists on an old A drive hard disk. I also have a printed version. And while it very much reads like a 15 year old kid with too much confidence and very little previous experience wrote it - it also hooked me in to writing for life. Discovering fanfic in those same 5 years further lodged the writing bug deep in my brain.
🐇 Both for sure. I write the stories I can’t find or that simply hit my brain sideways out of nowhere. And then once I start, I get gleeful thinking of other people reading my tales. Writing a story is like cooking a delicious meal. Yes, you do it because you’re hungry, but you also want to share that deliciousness with others to bring them happiness. I’m fully encompassed in both.
💕 Now, see, that’s just mean lol!! At the moment, counting drabbles, one-shots, collections, and chaptered works I have at LEAST 600 stories- give or take. So picking a favorite is literally impossible. I also have written for multiple fandoms which further complicates it. Soooo one? Best I can manage is a selection of stories that personally speak to me in this exact moment that would likely be different if I answered this tomorrow lol!
Psych: “Tell Me a Bedtime Story, Daddy” - it’s a one-shot originally titled “Precious Treasure” on Psychfic and was part of a prompt series. This was specifically an exploration into horror - back during my Walking Dead phase. It is also straight up tragedy so be aware of the tags if you decide to check it out.
Sherlock: “A Faun at Baker Street” - fully inspired by the works of @sgam76 who has a series about vampire Sherlock and are utterly glorious! I had previously read some various fawnlock stories and wanted to try my own version. The result is both ridiculous yet fun and doing its best to be a “serious piece of literature” 🤣.
Marvel Universe: “Sed Diabolus” - I realize it’s a WIP but I am in love with how this story is very slowly coming together. It’s also the first time I’ve ever (with MASSIVE help from @kitcat992 ) created a complete outline for a fic so I know everything that will be happening and I’m dying to eventually get to share! I love the exploration of the various characters and getting to give them what the MCU failed to provide. I love digging into characters I normally wouldn’t be likely to write - such as Wanda or Hawkeye - to see who they are and what motivates them. It’s a sort of bonanza of character studies interspersed with terror and bloodshed lol!
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Fluff #7, Shules!
Okay so this maybe isn't super fluffy but I got this idea and just went with it. Thank you for this great prompt!!!
Set during 6x01. Soulmate AU where soulmates can hear each other's thoughts depending on how close they are in proximity. Juliet figured it out shortly after they first met but Shawn still hasn't.
Shules - Fluff #7 + “I think you might be my soulmate.”
Shawn's known Juliet for almost six years now and he still can't figure out why he can literally sense an aura around her. He also can't figure out why he seems to have more intrusive thoughts whenever he's around her, mostly having to do with paperwork or annoyance at the station's coffee quality. It's just another layer added onto the mystery of Juliet O'Hara, one that he is slowly unraveling each day, and one that is unraveling much faster now that they've started dating.
He's loved getting to know her even better in the last few months, loved learning little things like how she likes her eggs or what shampoo she uses. They've gotten much closer these past four months, and the fact that their relationship has been a secret really helped. They haven't really had to worry about what other people might think or how their careers may be affected and that avoided stress meant a lot more time to just be together.
But now Lassiter knows and possibly both the Chief and his dad. And to make matters worse, Lassiter is accusing him of crashing a dignitaries party-- something he did actually do-- and hooking him up to a lie detector and Shawn can't figure out if it's out of spite or if Lassie is actually doing this for justice.
He's highly suspicious that it's the former.
This is why, as Lassie makes a checkmark on the paper that the lie detector is producing, he interjects. "Look, Lassie, we both know what this is about. This is about me and Juliet."
"Answer only my questions, please." Comes Lassiter's annoyed voice but Shawn's never been one to listen to him.
"Yes, we're together. You hate it. I get it."
"Spencer-" Lassie tries to interject, staring at him with hard blue eyes.
Shawn keeps talking, the words spilling out of him faster than he can think. He knows how this is killing Jules, he can practically feel her sadness every time Lassie gives her the cold shoulder, so if he can say anything to change the detective's mind, or at least make him be okay with their relationship, then he's going to very well try. "I can't help it, man. I've been fighting this thing for years."
"Spencer, stop."
"It's not just gonna go away."
Lassiter throws a hand up, practically shouting. "Stop."
"You're gonna have to deal with the fact that I love her, okay?"
The admission escapes him faster than he can realize but as soon as he does, his stomach lurches. He hadn't meant to say that now. He wasn't ready to stay that now. Especially not in front of Lassie, the Chief, and his dad. (Gus, on the other hand, was a different story. He'd be fine if his best friend was there for all of his major life moments.) And what would Juliet think? What if she doesn't feel the same way? Or what if she's thrown off by him saying it too early? He can almost feel her shock and it does little to still his anxieties.
But then something breaks through his mind, a thought so loud, it practically drowns out all of his other thoughts. Though it doesn't feel like one of his own.
"I love you too."
Everything clicks. The aura sensing, the intrusive thoughts, the fact that whenever he's around Juliet, he doesn't feel like his brain is fully his. How she knew he wasn't psychic before he even told her.
His head snaps towards her, eyes blown wide, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. When he meets her eyes, he knows that she already knows what he's thinking but it doesn't stop the words from spilling out.
“I think you might be my soulmate.”
#psych#shules#shawn x juliet#shawn spencer#juliet o'hara#fanfiction#psych fanfic#psychfic#soulmate au#skipps writes
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Welcome to Fic Rec Friday! Every Friday, I will be recommending three of my favorite fan-fics for your enjoyment. This week's fandom is Psych!
These fics were randomly chosen from my ever-growing list of all-time favorite stories. My request is this - if you do click on any of these links and read the stories, please be kind enough to favorite/give kudos and review/comment! A lot of these fics are older, and I know how wonderful it is to randomly get a review for a story that's been around for a while. Let’s send some love to Syncop8ed Rhythm and DwaejTokki if you enjoyed their stories, please! :)
Quick Links:
Abandoned by Syncop8ed Rhythm
I Scream for Gus by DwaejTokki
The Execution by Syncop8ed Rhythm
Summaries, info, and my own thoughts are below the break! :)
Abandoned by Syncop8ed Rhythm
Summary: There were two cases, one the SBPD knew about, another that Shawn was keeping quiet. He thought it would get easier, after solving the first case, but he wasn't expecting the police department to turn its back on him, especially when he went missing.
Rating: T
Chapters: 12 | Words: 14,945
Year Published: 2010
Platform: fanfiction.net
This story so good that you can’t just read it once. I have gone back to it multiple times! As always, Syncop8ed Rhythm excels at the angst and the whump. I’m a sucker for stories where the whumpee is alienated from his friends unjustly before something terrible happens to him. The guilt of Lassie and Jules and the sense of abandonment in this story are top-notch, as is how ardently Henry and Gus defend Shawn. One thing I really love about this fic is the author's characterization of Shawn. He's not just an idiot or a goofball (though he is snarky of course!). He's shown to be super smart and very good at what he does, as well as brave and loyal. We also get to see him angry, which is fabulous. Syncop8ed Rhythm is a master storyteller and a master whumper, and this will not be the last of their stories that I’ll be showcasing!
I Scream for Gus by DwaejTokki
Summary: In which Gus is bullied, Shawn sticks up for him, and the friends have a heart-to-heart about the meaning of a particular n-word. One-shot. Complete.
Rating: G
Chapters: 1 | Words: 851
Year Published: 2016
Platform: AO3
This little story is a hidden gem among all the intense whump stories I have favorited over the years! Based on an experience from the author’s own life, this is a sweet little friendship story with young Shawn and Gus, where Shawn sticks up for Gus when he’s bullied and learns about the n-word. This story handles the issue of race from the eyes of children in a delicate but humorous way, and it’s honestly just a breath of fresh air!
The Execution by Syncop8ed Rhythm
Summary: There wasn't much of the body that hadn't been beaten or cut or burned, but it was Shawn. Juliet knew it was. Missing for two weeks, the gang had sent pictures of him and the damage they'd done to him. "We won't know for sure it's Shawn until the DNA results come back," Carlton said. Results which were made necessary because the gang had beheaded him. They'd beheaded Shawn.
Rating: T
Chapters: 1 | Words: 3,129
Year Published: 2015
Platform: fanfiction.net
Don’t worry - despite its description, it isn’t a death fic. I love everything about it: the angst, the drama, the resolution. It's from Juliet's perspective, and has some serious Shules. My favorite thing about it, I think, is the way that it deals with the grieving process and Juliet's terrified pessimism. It also does an excellent job showing just how much everyone - Jules especially - loves and cares about Shawn. Everything about this story is perfect.
#psych#fic rec#fic rec friday#fanfiction review#rec list#by syncop8ed rhythm#by dwaejtokki#fanfiction#fanfiction.net#ao3#whump#friendship#hurt/comfort#psychfic#these are so good#my favorites#for your enjoyment
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Hi! Love all your psych content 💖 Do you have any psych fic recs? Anything with kidnapping, whump and smart shawn would be appreciated. Thanks!
Haha, anon, that’s every Psych fic written.
I don’t know which you’ve already read but here is my starter pack:
1. The first Psych fic that got me hyperfixated was The Longest Day by LitteFairy and I highly recommend binging ALL her work. (She’s also on FFN if you prefer that format.)
2. Binge all of CollegeKid’s work.
3. If you’re not new, I’m sure you know the almighty Psych queen @dragonnan (hi Tan!) and if you are able to digest heavier sensitive material I’d read her work too, starting with For the Record, This Was Not My Idea.
4. Also this fic deserves so much credit but the author hadn’t uploaded it on Psychfic, which was the main source of the fandom’s work, so it’s not as well-known: Watch Me Bleed. It’s peak Shawn!angst and it’s about him coping with loss and guilt. (Don’t worry, neither of the main six die.)
5. Look through all my Psychfic Favourites and FFN Favourites (cause some of the FFN ones are not on the former). There are hundreds of absolute gems.
6. You can read my own fics too but they’re a decade old and embarrassing af 😂 FFN | Psychfic
Thank you for the compliments btw 🥰
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Learn How To Bend
Sequel to Gus Knows Shawn Knows That He's Telling The Truth (<<< That's a link)
Shawn strolls into the SBPD, Gus at his side as usual, and Jules barely glances his way- until something catches her eye. She does a double-take, eyes widening further when she realizes that yes, she’s seeing what she thought.
“Shawn?” Jules passes the finished paperwork to the desk clerk and power-walks to catch up with the duo. “Is that a crystal necklace?”
“What, this old thing?” Shawn looks down and fiddles with it for a second. “I’m trying out some new methods of psychic enrichment, Jules,” he says, squinting and looking off to the side- why, Jules has no idea.
“Shawn received a vision from the spirit of another psychic,” Gus adds on. “They showed him some ways to, hone his abilities.”
“That’s amazing.” Jules grins. “How’s it working out so far?”
“Oh, I dunno, really.” Shawn shrugs casually, and then leans to the side and calls out, “Lassie! How’d that 2 AM fishing trip with your mom go?”
There’s the sound of a gun being dropped, and Shawn sucks in a disapproving breath as Gus whistles in shame just hearing the flurry of curses from Lassiter’s desk. The head detective storms over to them, and Shawn’s hand flies to his temple before Lassie can get a word out of his beet-red, steam-spewing face.
“Ooh, scratch that, you had to cancel because your mom…” Shawn screws his face up, tugging on his necklace. “... got the flu. Oh, that’s a shame, Lassie, that really is. Hey, orange juice and chicken soup, right?”
“Spencer, I swear to Sweet Lady Justice that if you’ve been trailing my mother-”
“Not me, Lassie,” Shawn swears, putting his hand over his chest. “The spirits! They told me you’re trying to repair the relationship between you two, it’s-it’s very touching.”
Lassiter is still so livid it’s almost comical when Chief Vick steps out of her office, one foot in and one foot out, and snaps to get their attention. All four quickly take their places in the office, Lassiter keeping a wider distance from Shawn than usual.
Chief Vick looks up and opens her mouth- but Shawn is already shutting the door and closing the shutters. She casts a somewhat surprised look at Jules, who mouths ‘Crystal’ and makes a gesture over her own chest where the necklace falls on Shawn’s. He turns around with a smug grin and slides into his usual seat.
“Good instinct, Mr. Spencer,” Chief Vick says, looking down at her desk and clearing away her visible surprise. “This information I’m about to share cannot leave this office, understood?”
“Of course, Chief. But if we were going to have a sleepover I wish you’d have said so before- we would’ve brought Dippin’ Dots.”
“Dippin’ Dots?”
“They make Ice Cream a novelty, Jules.”
“Mr. Spencer, if you had a vision knowing how important this case is and you are still holding this briefing up, I’m going to seriously reconsider hiring you on it.”
Shawn pretends to zip his mouth shut and toss away a key, which Gus catches and tucks into his pocket before smoothly transitioning the movement into a fistbump.
Chief Vick huffs, not without a slight smile, and looks back at her papers. “This case is coming to us directly from The Mayor’s wife, and unfortunately for the department it’s the kind of case that the press will be all, over.”
She begins to go over the specific details, and try as she might to pay attention Jules can’t help but be distracted by Shawn and Gus as Gus pulls out a notepad with a list of words and checks them off with an audible sccrtch! of the pen for each mark.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus looks over at Shawn as The Blueberry cruises back to the Psych office. “So? Was Lassie’s reaction everything you wanted?”
Shawn chuckles and nods. “He looked like a Looney Tunes character.”
“No kidding. Was all of that a vision?”
“Course not, Gus. I’m not that psychic. … Yet. The fishing trip has been in his planner since last week, which happened to fall into my hand when he stepped away for coffee. The canceling was the vision.”
“How vivid?”
“Just him holding his phone and the sound of sneezing over speakers. Not hard to piece together what it meant.”
“I still can’t believe you’re getting real visions now.”
“You can’t believe it? Dude, the other day I got one about my dad dropping by the office for a surprise visit and totally avoided it!”
“These visions sound way more specific than we thought they’d be.”
“Nah, not really. The visions are… broad, big, like that dog your elderly neighbor used to have.”
“She actually got him on a diet, he’s way healthier now.”
“Really? Well, good for him! I always liked that pup. Anyway, the visions are way too big to give me anything useful on their own. I had to run the one of my dad through my head like, a million times before I figured out the day, time, and reason. The clocks were all wrong in the office, but I caught sight of the popcorn guy with the caramel options outside the window, and he only passes by our office between 2 and 4 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Then I noticed the milk in the trash, and it didn’t expire until Wednesday, and you have a weird thing about expiration dates.”
“It’s not weird to take my food safety seriously, Shawn.”
“Come on, dude, throwing it out one day after expiration? At least sniff it first.”
“Get your own milk if you don’t like how I handle mine.”
“Stop drinking milk while lactose intolerant and then blaming it on ‘it’s spoiled’ when you get the stomach flip-flops.”
“I take lactose processing pills, Shawn, fine milk doesn’t bother me!”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Tsk! Just finish up how you knew what your dad wanted!”
“Easy, he had the newspaper tucked up under his arm. He only comes by with that when we’ve done something that gets in the papers and he wants to yell at me for it. Recently? That’s gotta be the thing miller who used those novelty socks.”
“The one you decided to lure out by sending in a letter to the editor that spewed hate about the socks?”
“Bingo. It was going to be another ‘stop taunting killers’ lecture, I’m sure of it. Just sick of those.”
“Gee, I wonder why he keeps coming around to give them.”
“Because he hates dramatic, poetic justice?”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Whoa, whoa.” Shawn raises his hand to his head as something flashes into his mind.
From an angle down by the floor, he’s looking up at his dad cleaning a fresh catch. Suddenly his dad pauses, and then smiles to himself and lets out his ‘now-isn’t-this-something’ chuckle. He pulls it out of the fish’s guts and sets it to the side.
Shawn blinks and lowers his hand. Gus looks at him expectantly, and then gestures for Shawn to hurry up and speak already.
“Gotta run that one again,” Shawn says. He puts both hands to his temples now and closes his eyes.
He focuses closer, but he’s just not at the right angle to see the object. His focus trails around, and then a reflection in the porch window lights up. The vision zooms in on it, and Shawn makes out one of his dad’s lucky fishing charms. His vision trails around a bit more, trying to pick out details on Time. His focus lands on the TV, playing a show that broadcasts at exactly the present.
He smirks and opens his eyes. “Gus, I totally know how to show it off to my dad now.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn! Wasn’t expecting you by today.” Henry is only just pulling the fish off the grill. “But since you’re here, I think we need to have a chat about that-”
“Ah, not today, Pops.” Gus hands back, hiding behind a tree (poorly) as Shawn jogs into his dad’s yard. “I actually came by to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me.” It’s not a question, and Henry hits him with the ‘What bullshit are you pulling now?’ look.
“On finding your lost lucky charm,” Shawn says, looking over the table. “Take it in to clean already?”
Henry crosses his arms. “Lost charm?”
Shawn looks at him, leaning forward a bit and mouth slightly parted in his most authentic gentle confusion. “Yeah. The one you found inside the fish?”
Henry’s frown gets deeper. “What, did you put cameras in my yard, kid?” He’s half-serious about the jab.
“No.” Shawn puts his hands in his pockets, leaving his thumbs out, and shrugs. “Just had a uh, hah! A feeling about it.”
Henry’s frown becomes an outright scowl. “A feeling.”
“Clear as day,” Shawn affirms, keeping a straight face. “Or, strong as… day? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Help me out here Pops, what’s a good metaphor for a strong feeling that’s so right it’s scary?”
“... Lucky guesses, Shawn.” Henry points his tongs at his son. “Trying to get me to believe your charade is a new low.”
“No-one’s trying to get you to believe anything.” Shawn shrugs again. “By the way… what were you doing watching reality dating shows after getting back from a fishing trip? Your tradition is fishing competition after a fishing day, everyone knows that.”
“How did you-” Henry quickly looks through his window, but the TV is off at this point. “Alright Shawn, did you come here just to piss me off today or do you have something you need?”
“A man can’t just visit his father?”
“You can’t just visit your father.”
“Alright, you got me. Listen, Gus and I have a new case that’s… pretty high profile, and I remembered one of your poker buddies just moved into the mayor’s neighborhood. I was hoping you’d help me get him to let us do a stakeout from his house.”
Henry purses his lips and nods a bit. “Stakeout in the mayor’s neighborhood. Sure, Shawn, that’s an easy ask. Let me just call him up and explain why you can’t just-” Henry makes some mocking gestures with his hands. “-conjure up what you need.”
“Well, I could,” Shawn says confidently. “But then I wouldn’t get to eat stakeout snacks.”
“You’re not getting into his house, Shawn.”
“Fine. … I’ll do it my way.” Shawn turns on his heel and begins to walk away, but pauses at the gate and turns. “Oh, and Pops? You used salt instead of sugar in your sauce there.”
He turns again and leaves fully, Gus coming out from behind the tree and giving Shawn a fistbump as they both walk away.
Henry scoffs, knowing Shawn didn’t taste the sauce. He waits until he can’t hear footsteps anymore, and then dips his pinkie into the bowl and tastes it. For his own satisfaction.
Instead he splutters and spits it out into the grass, his sweet-and-sour sauce more like salt and sour.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The mayor’s wife’s case would be easy even without psychic visions. After one look around the house and one round of chatting with each member of the household, he knows it’s the son. He’s been brought up with the expectation of becoming the next mayor, and was obviously cracking under the pressure. The stolen documents would cast such a pall on the family name that it’d guarantee the death of his political career before it ever started, and the guy clearly had little to no concern about how that would impact his parents. The mayor didn’t even know the documents were missing until his wife had reported it, because his ‘very responsible’ son was in charge of them. Shawn even found the corner of a page with the office symbol visible caught under the son’s dresser- and he got a small vision confirming his suspicion that the son hid the documents under there before moving them before Maid Day.
“OH! I smell the priceless, important mayoral ink!” Shawn has his hand by his head the moment Lassie and Jules step into the foyer to update the family. Shawn holds the imaginary papers up to his nose and takes a deep inhale. “No, wait, there’s-there’s more. Something… musty? No, not musty, zes-zesty? No, no… DUSTY!”
Shawn pulls the pretend papers away from his nose. “The papers were kept somewhere dusty! And- OW!” He snaps his hand away from his temple and over to his ear. He keeps up a silent expression of sheer pain for a moment before sucking in a breath, so dramatic and raw that it makes Jules step forward in concern.
Shawn yanks his hand away from his ear to point at the son. “You.”
“Him?” Lassiter’s open disbelief just encourages Shawn more. “It’d ruin his career, what are you talking about?”
“Yes. Yes, exactly. Guh!” Shawn brings his hand back to his temple and closes his eyes. “You… you want to lose your career path. The politics, the parties, the pressure… yes, I see it now. You hid the documents and staged the theft because you want out!”
The son steps back. “I- what are you talking about? This is my whole life.”
“Exactly.” Shawn opens his eyes. “Ex-actly! Your whole life is nothing but this! Paperwork and flattering and perfection! I can see your drained, tired aura all around you!”
He hopes that never becomes true. Auras sound like a very annoying thing to have to deal with seeing. He’s fairly certain that his dad’s would look like those awful racetrack shirts from the Jimmy Nickles case, all smashed together and awful enough to blind his first, second, and third eyes.
The son looks at his parents. “Come on, this guys has been here for like, three hours, he-he barely even looked around!”
“With my physical eyes, maybe.” Shawn nods. “But with my spiritual eyes I saw everything. And, OH!” He gestures at his ear again. “Oh, I feel everything! Lassie, I think if you check under his dresser in his bedroom, you’ll find a piece of one of the stolen documents under the left back leg.
The son pales. He looks at his parents, backing away from them. “It-it was just budget documents. Nothing harmful.”
His mother covers her mouth. The mayor stares in disbelief.
“Is that a confession?” Lassiter pulls out his cuffs.
“It wouldn’t have hurt anyone!” the son insists again. “Just-just pushed a few deadlines back!”
“Yeah, like food assistance program funding and money for road repair.” Gus looks at the son with confusion and judgment. “Which a lot of people rely on for quality of life.”
“I didn’t destroy them!”
“Yeah, that’s a confession.” Lassiter cuffs the man. “Next time try having a normal scandal to ruin your career.”
“One that doesn’t hurt poor people!” Gus watches the son be led away. “Man, how selfish can you get? Imagine if he had gotten into office.”
“... I actually don’t think much would change, Gus.” Shawn looks past Gus at the mayor. “No offense. There’s just-just a lot of potholes on my street.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus leans back in his chair, grinning at the check. “You know what this calls for.”
“Way ahead of you, Gus.” Shawn turns around his laptop to show a page for a pineapple-shaped couch.
Gus tsks and yanks the check out of sight. “No way. I meant, this is our first time making an actual profit instead of just operating at a loss or barely breaking even.”
“Dude! The Sweetness just got sweeter! … Man, I hope this doesn’t actually come from spirits. It’d-it’d be a little weird to be calling a bunch of dead strangers Sweetness.”
“Well, have you talked to any dead people?”
“Nah, man. Just visions and gut feelings. Oh, and I totally read Buzz’s mind earlier.”
“For real?”
“For real!”
“What was he thinking?”
“... That part’s a little fuzzier.”
“So you didn’t read his mind.”
“I did! Just… not very clearly. It was something about bagels. Maybe.”
Gus shakes his head and opens his own laptop. “I’m booking you another meditation class.”
“Oh, throw in a massage at the place next door.”
“How is a massage supposed to help you grow and hone your psychic powers?”
“It’s not. But we’ve got money to burn now, man!”
“We made a little profit.”
“That’s the most profit we’ve ever made!”
“That you didn’t immediately gamble away.”
“... That’s low, Gus, that’s a low blow.”
#real psychic shawn spencer#psych#psychusa#psych usa#psych 2006#psych the show#psych the tv show#psych tw#psychfic#shawn spencer#burton guster#burton gus guster#carlton lassiter#juliet o'hara#henry spencer#funny fic#fluff
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The Long Overdue Psych Fic Update
So, years ago, one of my very good fandom friends and I wrote a fic about a crazy stalker chick who got fixated on Shawn Spencer. Then we had the brilliant idea for a sequel... that we started and then never finished.
We talked about it on and off ever since, but we never were able to actually sit down and work on the thing. And then, last year, it finally happened! Inspiration and availability coincided, we ended up reworking the entire plot, and then we managed to finish the story.
It’s posted on PF since that’s where this all started, but I also have uploaded it to AO3 if that’s your preference.
Enjoy!!
- - - - -
Psychics Are People, Two
The Psych gang has met many criminals during their careers, but Laura Peters was one of a kind. Now she's back and history seems to be repeating itself.
>>Psychfic<<
>>AO3<<
#psych#psychfic#fanfiction#crazy fangirls#stalker fic#psychics are people too#psychics are people two#shawn spencer#burton guster#carlton lassiter#juliet o'hara#marlowe viccellio#laura peters#humor#suspense#mystery#friendship#concerned friends#family#hurt/comfort#epic Lassiters
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i cant pass the fucking security code on psychfic and it is driving me INSANE
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Hey everyone! So I made this handy dandy Whumpathon Randomizer tool to help spark some writing inspiration. While I did specifically make it for the Psych fandom, if you ignore the ‘character’ section it can come in handy for planning a whump fic for any fandom!
Maybe Spencer Reid has a seizure from spiked punch at a nightclub? Or Castle gets stabbed with a spork in a laundromat (crazier things have happened)?
Anyway, I seem to have some good feedback already which is awesome and if there’s any improvements you think I could make, let me know!
#whumpathon#psychfic#fanfiction#writing#writing fanfiction#whump#whump community#whump lovers#Shawn Spencer#spencer reid#criminal minds#castle#richard castle#made by me#wedonthaveballs
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March 26th marks 3 years since the final episode of Psych. Since that time, the series, and Psychfic, has continued to gain fans. I feel it isn't a stretch to say that this little show, of ours, is a genuine phenomenon that is rare in television. And, though Netflix decided to drop this amazing show, the ion television network has picked up the slack and continues to air 2 reruns a night and also promote it on their twitter, @iontv.
As for Psychfic, we have a landmark date coming up! On July 23rd, this site will celebrate 11 years of fanfic, fun, and family! We've officially passed the decade mark! Because of this, I intend to have a day of celebration and I hope you can join in!
Another event will also be rolling around in a few months. June 1st thru the 30th, will be the 8th Annual Psychfic Awards – celebrating stories written between Jan 1st and Dec 31ts, 2015.
And, speaking of fanfic, there's a brand new challenge taking place, right now, on the forum! You can write a ficlet as short as 500 words and the winner will get a custom banner! Stories need to be submitted by March 5th.
I know it's been a long time for some of us. I understand if you've moved on to other fandoms and sites. However, Psychfic will always have an open door and will delight in having you stop by – whether a quick visit or a long stay. We are a family – through thick and thin.
I hope your year has been great so far. And I'm so excited to see what the rest of the year brings!
Love you all!!
~ Dragonnan
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