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corvuschronicles · 7 months

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finally gonna make a post better explaining my real fake psychic shawn spencer au so this might be a long one bc in the past it was mostly rambles as i came up with ideas and trying to make them fit together

i am in the process of actually writing a fic for this and it’s looking like it may be the first part of a 3 part series, below the cut are a lot more details to give context to my au

okay! couple of important things for the overarching universe:

the supernatural exists! though the population is not as prominent as it once was, so the supernatural world learned to adapt and stay hidden, basically for every 20 claims of something supernatural only one is real, and obviously some cities have higher populations compared to others

because of the dwindling population of the supernatural and the growing population of the mundane, it is expected that both would intermingle, so it is actually a lot more common than you’d expect for people to have supernatural bloodlines, though it is often insignificant enough that it doesn’t matter. sometimes that is not the case. sometimes people are born into still active bloodlines so they grow up in that world and sometimes people never know that they even had supernatural blood, let alone that the supernatural exists. sometimes, even though someone’s bloodline may be dormant (and they are or are not aware of the supernatural) unforeseen circumstances can sort of jumpstart said bloodline

with or without knowing it, people with supernatural abilities or bloodlines tend to gravitate to each other

there are few rules that the supernatural community follows, the most important being to not expose themselves to the mundane

within the supernatural community there are different categories; creatures/those with creature blood (vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters), those with abilities (psychics, druids, witches), sentries (those tasked with keeping the supernatural hidden, and hunters (mundanes who became aware and choose to fight it)

explaining the name, real fake psychic:

when he first started working for the SBPD shawn faked being a psychic to avoid arrest

after season 4, shawn has an encounter with the supernatural that essentially gives him real psychic abilities

he keeps up his fake psychic charade because he can’t really say ‘hey guys i was faking it before but guess what? it’s real now!’

now i will go a little into some of the changes/headcanon/general facts of some characters in my au, starting with the main man

shawn:

he’s mexican! this is not central to the story really but it’s my headcanon so i will work it in because i can

somewhere down the line there is maybe some kind of long forgotten supernatural family member, meaning shawn has supernatural blood

the combination of his childhood and eidetic memory and genius is all him but it definitely gets a small push from his possible bloodline, especially in how he visualizes

after The Incident™️ shawn gets real psychic abilities, at first it’s vague and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but then things get too weird and even he can’t ignore it

true psychics are rare, a lot of people only have some aspects (like divination, clairaudience, etc) but of course, shawn ends up with more than the usual

his abilities, especially at the beginning and when they develop more, are rather painful because he is receiving so much more input now, leading to headaches at least

shawn getting real powers is the catalyst to those around him awakening as well, and now that he and the others are aware of the supernatural, it seems to be more present than they realized

gus:

he’s an amplifier

his ability is kind of a paradox, on its own it doesn’t do much because it is mostly dormant outside giving him the supersniffer, but once shawn awakens it causes a ripple effect, they are now in the supernatural world and as a result gus in turn awakens as well

he can amplify his and other’s abilities; this helps shawn because gus can help him focus on certain visions or to make sense of some things he sees, this makes shawn claim that his is now literally magic head

it is a paradox because without shawn’s powers gus’ wouldn’t have come through and gotten stronger, but he also helps shawn’s get stronger, it’s a loop

gus gets the dormant bloodline from both his parents

shawn is not the only one gus helps

juliet:

she is an empath

she is naturally an empathetic person but once she awakens it gives her more of an understanding that she never had before

juliet gets her bloodline from her mother’s side

once they all figure it out, juliet can also help shawn in a different way, as she can now feel the emotions coming through his visions

gus is able to help juliet develop her abilities more, and she develops a type of danger sense, which comes in handy in their job

her bloodline is weaker so she’s not the strongest empath, and her prolonged exposure to a shield made it harder for her abilities to develop as well

carlton

he is a nullifier

lassie’s ability is that he is essentially immune to the supernatural to a point, things like curses, jinxes, telepathy, etc do not work at all or barely affect him, most physical attacks would still work because he is still human (like poisons or tactile telepathy)

however, this also affects positive things such as blessings or good luck charms

his ability is like an aura around him, meaning that those close around him may be affected as well, such as o’hara who, as his partner, is often exposed and it put a hamper on her own abilities

shawn is also affected, but in a good way; the constant bombarding of psychic readings stop when he touches lassiter, and even just being around him can ease the headaches

this is eventual shassie

unlike the others, lassie is an anomaly, he has no actual supernatural bloodline, he is the first in his (recent) line

henry

he is a non-believing, non-aware, mundane person

he notices shawn acting stranger than usual, he also avoids coming to the house more than usual

he has his own Incident™️ in which he witnesses something that shows shawn is now telling the truth when he says he’s psychic

madeleine

is a whitexican; not exactly relevant other than the fact if goes with my mexican shawn headcanon

it is her side that had the supernatural bloodline

just like her son, if she were to awaken she would probably develop some minor abilities, most likely clairaudience

SBPD

for the most part, unaware of the supernatural

anyone born into or active in the supernatural community stays away from the police as they tend to live outside mundane laws and prefer to police their own

few key players in charge of or above the police may be aware or are a part of the community

the fact that a psychic and friends with abilities work for the police becomes controversial

chief vick is unaware but someone close to her is not

if anyone wants to add anything or simply ask questions or talk about feel free to do so! i love talking about real psychic shawn <3

#psych #psych usa #psych tv #real fake psychic au #fake real psychic au #real psychic shawn spencer au #real psychic shawn spencer #shawn spencer #burton guster #carlton lassiter #juliet o'hara #shassie #henry spencer #madeleine spencer #supernatural au #psych fanfiction #shassie fanfiction #my writing #crow talks

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obsidiancreates · 2 months

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The Fabric Of The Universe Is A Little Coarse (1 Out Of 5 Stars) [Part 2/2]

(Content warnings for seizure mentions, blood mentions, waiting in a hospital, hospital setting, Henry being an Ass even while worried sick because he literally can't help himself)

He’s drifting.

He? Maybe. Faintly, that feels right.

But so does Everything.

All the cords.

Threads.

Events which Have Happened and Are Happening and Will Happen… it all feels right.

He’s drifting among Everything, and it’s…

Nice.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus wonders if Shawn is going to die.

He rides in the ambulance and it’s a good thing they have bags for vomit because everything inside of him is trying to run away every time he looks at Shawn. The rolling, unseeing eyes– everything leaves. The uncontrollable spasming and writhing– everything leaves. The blood steadily trickling out of his ears and nose– everything leaves.

Shawn leaves. Left. Is leaving? Gus isn’t sure anymore. He’s not sure if Shawn is here. He is, but he isn’t, because Shawn is never so… so…

Shawn spasms again, his head lolling as his body jerks and his empty eyes land on Gus but they don’t see him. The blood coming from his nose coats the stubble on his lip as it changes course, and the blood from his ears pools on the cot, and he isn’t there.

Gus looks away too late.

Everything leaves.

They make him lean his head back and close his eyes, and he feels the prick of an IV being inserted. Why are they bothering with him? He’s not the one seizing and bleeding and empty empty Shawn is never Empty he’s Full full of life full of bullcrap full of ego just Full-

It won’t stop playing over and over again in Gus’s head (Is that what it’s like for Shawn every day? It’s terrible, and Gus needs Shawn to know that, he needs to be able to tell him after all this that he’s sorry Shawn has to deal with constant replays and crisp memories and uncontrollable realizations because this is terrible) as he sits there. Just sits there, stuck in a memory being useless.

The way Shawn got that slightly distant, distracted look in his eye while the girl was talking. The way Shawn almost fell into the glass and didn’t even seem to realize he’d started swaying. The way his hands started spasming first, scratching at something Gus couldn’t see or feel.

The way Shawn just collapsed, without a shout or scream or even a gasp. Just went from standing to going down.

The way Shawn’s body went from limp to tense. His breathing becoming sharp gasps. His hands still scratching at nothing.

The way when Gus turned him over and knelt down to cradle Shawn’s head in his lap Shawn’s eyes never met his once, rolling uselessly and disconnected in his skull and Shawn’s eyes don’t do that.

Shawn’s eyes are sharp, focused, not always on the right thing but they’re focused. They can get distant sometimes, when he’s figuring something out or remembering something strongly, but they’re never so completely empty.

And the scratching.

Gus had been calling his name, louder and louder every time Shawn didn’t respond, didn’t blink, didn’t react at all, and Shawn’s mouth had opened but instead of words it was painful gasping like a fish held out of water or an astronaut who lost his helmet or oh god anything absurd and unreal he wishes this wasn’t real.

And all the time Shawn’s hands never stopped scratching.

Not when the shaking started, not when the bleeding did, not even when–

“Don’t you dare leave me Shawn! I need you, I need you, I can’t imagine my life without you in it, don’t you dare leave me alone out here it’s supposed to be us against everything not just me–”

It’s lingering on the outskirts of Gus’s racing thoughts, waiting for a chance to slip in. Shawn read his mind. Shawn read his mind. Shawn read Juliet’s, too. Shawn looked into their heads.

It’s lingering, and he knows it’s there, but he can’t let that realization sink in yet. He can’t let it sink in because Shawn is dying and if he dies then what does it matter because Shawn won’t be here to talk about it with, talk about anything with, and Gus needs him here.

Gus needs him here.

“I need you here.”

Shawn seizes again.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s not drifting so much anymore.

There’s a specific… something, calling to him. He’s drifting towards it, a gentle pull and push moving him its way. It feels unusual to let something direct him, but at the same time more familiar than anything else. Does that mean he’s a person, a place, and item? He’s Something– that’s interesting news.

What is he?

Maybe when he gets wherever he’s going he’ll find out. Oh, that’s familiar too– finding things out. It’s exciting, even. He’d forgotten about Exciting. When drifting among Everything, knowing Everything, being Everything, it’s easy to lose Excitement.

If only this push and pull would get him there a little quicker. Maybe he can speed it up. He will find a way to speed it up.

There’s a hint.

He’s something that doesn’t give up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lassiter drives behind the ambulance. Juliet is shaking too much to do it herself.

“He’s going to be fine, O’Hara.” Her partner’s voice is strong and firm and unyielding as always, and she knows it’s not real this time. He’s doing it for her. She sees the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the movement of his jaw as he grinds his teeth. She has to see it, she can’t look ahead at the ambulance where Shawn is possibly dying and she can’t look behind at where it happened and she can’t look out the windows at sights she’s not sure Shawn will ever see again.

So she looks at Lassiter. Shawn is an ocean, and Lassiter is a shoreline. Shawn throws himself against rocks and sands and trees, trying to pull them into his vast all-encompassing snare, but Lassiter is every single piece of the shoreline and more. Shawn can pull parts of Lassiter into the wild, uncontrollable seas, but he can never pull all of him, and whatever Shawn manages to snatch away will inevitably return to Lassiter sooner or later. They’re opposites and they’re the same, stubborn and determined and always there.

She needs that. She needs the fact that Lassiter is here. If he’s here, Shawn has to be too. Shawn has to be ready to rush in, pull her and her partner into something crazy and never-before-seen and utterly vexing, has to sweep her up in the tide for the time of her life and when the waves become too much for her she can cling to Lassiter for support and find her footing again, lay on the shoreline to catch her breath before the next swell.

Maybe she’s selling herself short– she’s gotten good at navigating both sides of it over the years, finding her own place in that dynamic that was already so present when she transferred to Santa Barbara. But right now she feels like she did in the beginning, unsteady and inexperienced and likely to drown, and she knows Lassiter is there and she can rely on him to help her find somewhere safe to rest until the storm has passed.

“Spencer is too stubborn to die in the middle of a case,” Lassiter grits out. “Especially if it’s not in some idiotic, dramatic way that belongs in a movie.”

He is. Shawn would never let himself die like this. Or would he? It’s is dramatic. Even if Lassiter claims it’s not. He’s doing that for her sake, too. She can’t pretend she believes that one.

She remembers hearing Gus scream Shawn’s name. Remembers the witness cutting herself off when she realized Shawn was still there. Remembers ignoring the witness’s cries of betrayal as she shot out of her chair because Gus sounded terrified and–

And freezing in the door, heart stopping, when she saw Shawn on the ground seizing.

It was like a nightmare.

Shawn’s face shouldn’t be slack and emotionless, Shawn’s eyes shouldn’t be unseeing and rolling, Shawn shouldn’t be–

And then Lassiter was calling for Buzz to call an ambulance behind her and she was moving and asking questions and trying to get Shawn to focus on her but she wasn’t, not really, she was focused on the spasming and the gasping and Shawn looking so unconnected to the world around him and she’d put a hand on his face and suddenly all of her thoughts were spilling out of his mouth and it made it too real, too real, too real–

They’re at the hospital.

She’s running out of the car and into the hospital. She’s explaining why she’s here. It’s all passing by in a blur. She’s sitting next to Lassiter, and he’s stiff and uncomfortable and exactly how she needs him to be right now, and then he puts an arm around her and pulls her into an awkward hug on the crappy waiting room chairs and she cries into his suit.

Gus is there when she pulls herself away. He looks on the outside like she feels on the inside. Shellshocked, confused, like he’s not sure where he is. She finds it in herself to stand up and coax him over beside her and Lassiter, and she holds him like Lassiter held her.

They’re there for maybe hours, maybe minutes, most likely somewhere in-between, when Henry shows up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s Somewhere.

That’s a nice change of pace. He’s in one single area, one single point in time, one single event.

He used to do this a lot, didn’t he? It feels Familiar. Linear, and Familiar.

Oh, he Existed at one point. That’s cool to know. He thought he Knew Everything, but apparently it’s hard to know Anything when you know Everything.

An old-ish woman is holding a toddler and weaving a rug. He recognizes them, of course he does, he recognizes Everyone and Everything because he is Everyone and Everything. But he recognizes them… Differently.

“You need to make a good life, good choices, or else you won’t snap out of it.” The old-ish woman looks at the toddler and sighs. He’s asleep. “I hope you’ll…”

Her eyes glaze over. They travel to a point just behind him and fix on the wall.

… No.

They fix on Him.

“Oh,” she says softly. “Well… at least I know you do figure it out eventually. Oh, sweetheart, look at you…”

He can’t look at himself, because there’s not really anything there. Is there? Maybe there is. She’s looking at him. How is she doing that? What does he look like? He…

He should know that. He should know what he looks like.

“I wish I could help you, sweetheart. It’d be a heck of a use for all the experience I have with this exact thing.” The old-ish woman sighs. “But it doesn’t work that way. You’ll have to find your own way back. Good news is you’re in the right general… area, of sorts. Something– Someone, will be calling you back, if you took my advice. Find it. Find them.”

He wants to ask her what she means. He should Know what she means. Maybe he does, but staying here is making it hard to Know. It’s jumbling things up, trying to sort them into a linear line, and that’s not right but it is but it can’t be.

It’s making everything all… screwy.

Her eyes refocus as a man who looks decades older than he actually is walks in. “Alright Mom, thanks for watching Shawn but Maddie and I can take him back now.”

She blinks, and then shakes her head. “Let me have a little longer with my grandson, Henry. He’s the only one I’ll ever get.”

“Mads and I might decide to have another one.”

“You know you won’t. And I know Jack won’t be having one either.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Mmm, I wish you weren’t right Henry.” She hands the toddler over, and then glances at the spot again for just a moment. “Goodbye, Shawn.”

He’s not There anymore.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence has been broken only by sniffles and the crinkling of vending machine snack wrappers for a long time when Henry, head in his hands, hands which pull at the little hair he has left, looks up at the wall and says “This is my fault.”

Gus chokes on his Twinkie, because he has never heard those words from Henry Spencer’s mouth.

“His grandma had seizures.” Henry rubs his hand over his head, soothing the red spots where he pulled and picked. “She told us to watch out for them in him, said it skipped a generation with me and Jack. When Shawn didn’t have any as a kid or teen Mads and I just… thought it skipped him too.”

“You mean this could’ve happened any time?” Lassiter’s voice is carefully controlled, but that control frays and snaps with his next sentence. “He could’ve just collapsed in the middle of a case and you didn’t think we needed to know that?!”

“Shawn doesn’t even know! I didn’t want him using it as–!” Henry cuts himself off, snapping his mouth shut in a deep scowl.

“Using it as what, Henry?” Juliet’s voice is tight, eyes sharp, body language taught, her entire being the drawstring of a bow pulled back and ready to fire.

“... As an excuse to get out of responsibilities,” Henry admits in a sharp, short spit. Gus’s face twists into some mix of rage, disbelief, and complete unsurprise. Juliet stands, hands clenched by her sides, and Lassiter stands up right after in case he needs to break up an altercation. But he doesn’t move to hold her back yet.

“That is not okay, Henry. Not okay not to tell him, and especially not okay to assume the worst of him as a child!”

“You didn’t know him as a child!” Henry barks the defense on instinct, and has to hold his head again to reel himself back in. His voice is thick when he speaks again. “You think I’m not kicking myself over the decision now? I should’ve just told him, I didn’t even know what triggered Mom’s seizures, how did I think I’d know with him…”

“It’s just irresponsible.” Lassiter puts a hand on Juliet’s shoulder– not to stop her if she moves to swing, just to let her know he’s here. “What the hell else have you left out, Henry? Is your kid going to collapse of heart failure on us next?”

“His heart hasn’t had trouble since his surgery,” Henry mutters.

“Aw, what the hell– I was trying to be cutting! What do you mean Spencer had heart surgery?!”

“... He’s also got some trouble feeling pain.”

“Explain.” Juliet’s voice is cold. Gus looks like he might pop– either in self-destruction like a balloon too filled, or maybe like he’ll ‘pop’ Henry in the jaw to spare his own sanity.

“I dunno, he just doesn’t feel pain right, Maddie never told me the name of it. He feels it but not to the degree he should, or… something like that.”

“Holy crap.” Lassiter pinches the bridge of his nose. “Spencer, you realize this would all have been very valuable to know while he was out getting guns pointed at him every week for the last few years?! No wonder he doesn’t– the man ran through the woods with an untreated gunshot wound, for Cripe’s sake! He might not even know what counts as a ‘serious injury’ if he can’t feel pain right!”

Before Henry can say anything back, a doctor walks in. “Family of Shawn Spencer?”

Gus and Henry both stand– Gus makes sure to step closer to the doctor than Henry does.

“All of you?”

“Yes,” Juliet says quickly, and though he opens his mouth for a moment, Lassiter closes it again without protest.

“Well, I have good news. He’s stable, it looks like the worst of it has passed. He’s unconscious, and we’re waiting on the results of a few tests, but so far it’s looking like he’ll be okay. We’re letting visitors into his ro–”

Gus is rushing past her before the sentence is even over. Henry is on his tail, Juliet and Lassiter right behind.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s drifting around a few specific lives.

His favorite is Burton Guster’s. Burton Guster is the coolest, awesomest, most incredible person in all of Everything, and he can say that for a fact. He hadn’t had favorites while he was Everything, but he’s a little smaller now, and Burton Guster is his Favorite.

Juliet O’Hara and Carlton Lassiter are close, close seconds. They’re all very different from each other, but they’re all bound together by something he can’t quite pinpoint yet, and he’s glad because they’re all incredible. Everything is boring compared to them. He’d have them over Everything any day– day.

Day by day. Living life day by day.

He did that, didn’t he?

He has a Past.

That’s interesting. He has a Past, so he must have a Future… and a Present.

Is that what the old-ish lady meant? He needs to find his Present? How did he even get taken out of it? He’s not dead– he doesn’t think he is, anyway. The Dead are different. He drifted among them a lot. They’re not what he is.

He follows along all their cords at once– there’s another one, just out of his reach, just out of range for Connection.

And there’s another, a fifth cord, and it’s… Different.

It’s woven around them, the three favorites and the fourth he can’t quite connect to, all bound together by this strange cord with nothing on top. There’s nothing to follow. Nothing to look at the stitching of, the messy edges, the covered-up unsightly bits that make up a Life.

There’s not even the neat little picture the messy stitching makes up for the other things on top to see. Just the cord, woven right in, tightly clinging to these other four.

He follows them. There’s something he’s missing. Something he needs to find. This is Familiar. He needs to find something. He always needs to find something. He does this all the time. What is he missing?

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His hands are still scratching.

He’s completely still otherwise. But his hands are still scratching. Faster now, in fact. Faster, almost desperately. His eyes are closed. His ears have been cleaned up. There’s still blood in his stubble.

“How long would your mom be… asleep?” Juliet asks, watching Shawn’s twitching hands.

“It varied.” Henry can’t look at his son. He can’t look at his son’s friends. He can only look at the ground below his son’s hospital bed. “She only got this bad a few times in my life. Usually she just–” Henry rubs his face. “She just disconnected, and came back spouting nonsense. The only time I can remember her bleeding is just before Jack went to first grade. He asked me if we’d always be able to count on each other and I said yes. She collapsed on the spot.”

“And was she–”

“It took three days for her to wake up.”

The room is quiet again.

Shawn keeps scratching.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a cord he can’t find. A Life he can’t track down. Someone always around the three favorites and the fourth he can’t reach.

The mystery Life and Cord should come to be next to the fourth unreachable one around the time of late teens or early twenties. It should come to be beside Burton Guster’s almost at the very beginning, woven away for a bit before coming back around. It should be by Juliet O’Hara’s and Carlton Lassiter’s around the same time it’s woven back beside the unreachable cord and Burton Gusters.

He can’t quite find it. It’s a person, a Life, but there’s nothing On Top. It’s someone unmissable, unless he wants to be. Someone loud, because he was told to be quiet for most of his life. Someone who hides in plain sight, because he can make everyone see whatever he wants them to see. Someone who can see Everything, and it’s too much but most of the time no-one can tell how Much it truly is.

He looks closer, closer. He follows the four cords as far as they’ll go, but it hurts to See the ends so close up. He likes them. He loves them. He doesn’t follow them to the ends entirely, when the bit on top will be woven into their cords and they’ll be a part of the weave itself instead of decorating it. He doesn’t want them to End.

He goes back. He goes to their starts, and moves along slowly, and he begins to understand how Life moves.

Day by day, little by little, the Present mattering more than anything else. Each life is not just one big cord encompassing all of a Person, but a million little threads, each second making the threads that make up the whole.

He hones in on the threads, each one so important– details.

He knows Details. He’s the king of Details. Who is he?

He picks over the cords, scratching at the individual threads.

Bump.

Wait. There…

The Present.

The most important part.

They’re all four there. Sitting in a hospital room. Someone is on the bed. The Missing Cord.

“Shawn won’t take three days,” Burton Guster says. “He won’t be able to wait that long.”

“He’s not patient,” the unreachable cord agrees.

“Henry, tell us what we should expect when he does wake up.” Juliet O’Hara is holding back from screaming at the unreachable cord– Henry, apparently.

He should know Everything. Does him not knowing how to reach the fourth mean he’s getting closer to where he needs to be, smaller to fit in what was once his Existence, singular enough to be a Life? Hopefully.

Henry sits back in his chair, the sound of his spine hitting the hard plastic echoing in the sterile room. “Look, Juliet, it’s not like I’m an expert in this. My mother died decades ago, and–and you know, even then I never really knew her well. She was always…” he waves a hand by his head. “... Somewhere else. She was worse than Shawn about it.”

“Maybe because of this?” Juliet gestures at the man– Shawn– in the bed. He’s unconscious. His cord is missing. He probably won’t wake up.

That’s…

Upsetting.

“... Maybe.” Henry sighs and puts his face in his hands. “My mother… wasn’t… well. She thought–” He lets out a bitter laugh. “She thought, she was psychic.”

Something twangs. Thrums. It’s His cord, somewhere, the one he’s meant to be traveling along day by day, event by event, second by second– but where? Where?

“What?!” Burton Guster stands up. It’s distracting. It’s all he can focus on. “Shawn’s grandma was psychic and you just never felt a need to mention it?!”

“She wasn’t! Psychic!” Henry is barely holding himself together. He’s rage and indignation and regret stuffed inside a meat suit. “She was a sick woman who got everyone else to believe her… delusions! I made her stop claiming it when Jack was a kid so he wouldn’t–!” Henry huffs, clenching his jaw and looking away. “Well, fat lot of good it did in the end with him. The damage was done. I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to Shawn.”

“This is ridiculous.” Carlton Lassiter is cleaning out his gun. He loves that gun, but he’s being a little rough with it. “Now you’re telling me Spencer’s the lastest in a long line of psychics? What, are we in one of his asinine 80’s movies?”

“He is not–!” Henry seems to catch himself differently this time. This time like he almost spilled a secret. What is the secret? Does not knowing mean Life is almost in reach? “He is not, the latest, in a long line. His grandmother wasn’t psychic.”

Burton Guster is having a crisis. He sits down heavily. He’s remembering things– the man on the bed collapsing and seizing and saying the thoughts in Burton Guster’s head. He’s remembering years and years of observations, mysteries, gut feelings from his friend that he’s reexamining and–

And those are Familiar.

…

He scratches the cord wrapped around the four. The one with nothing on top, no Life following it’s tracks.

On the bed, Shawn Spencer’s eyes flutter.

Oh.

Oh, of course.

He scratches it again.

Bump.

Shawn Spencer sucks in a breath. Everyone in the room looks at him with hesitant hope.

Bump.

Shawn Spencer’s eyes move under his lids. Everything is getting smaller. He doesn’t Know what he Knew before. He still Knows more than he should, but smaller, foggier, less readily available. It feels familiar. It feels right.

Bump.

He doesn’t know what the other people in the room think and feel anymore. He doesn’t know Everything.

But he does know that his head hurts.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn groans and turns his head to try and bury himself into the pillow. Everything aches.

“Shawn!” Gus’s voice hurts his ears– they’re really tender, he realizes as feeling slowly comes back to his body. As he slowly comes back to his body, settling back into Life and Singularity. What a freaky experience…

“Gus,” he groans. “Turn off the light.”

“Shawn, you–” Gus’s gushy proclamation of joy is cut off by a sob. “Oh my god, Shawn, you’re back.” He dives in for a hug, and Shawn coughs from the force he’s squeezed with. It’s nice, though. Being a formless, personality-less, wandering Nothing kind of seriously sucked. He’d way rather feel like absolute crap than feel like Nothing and not even know what he’s missing out on by being Something.

“I’m back, buddy,” Shawn rasps, patting Gus on the back and trying to open his eyes. He regrets it instantly, shutting them tight again. “Ah! Seriously, lights!”

They click off, and when Shawn cracks his eyes back open he just barely sees Lassie’s head over by where he remembers the lightswitch being from when he was Watching. His head pulses with pain when he remembers that. The whole experience is there, but blocked off, visible through a thick wall of mesh meant to keep out curious minds that’ll hurt themselves looking too closely. He groans and sinks back against the bed, for once deciding to respect a ‘No Entry’ warning. “Thanks, Lassieface.”

“I just didn't want you to whine about it.”

“You didn’t want me in pain. You love me.”

“I will turn them back on.”

“Carlton.”

“It’s okay Jules. Lassie’s sweet, yet also sour denial of his deep affection for me is exactly what I need after all that.”

“Kid.” Oh, there he is– the ‘unreachable cord’. As if he needed any more confirmation their relationship is absolutely screwed up. Henry steps into Shawn’s sight, expression a mess of emotions he’s trying not to have. “Listen, I–”

“Not now, Pop.” Shawn pats Gus’s back again, a silent signal to please let go before he passes out again, and Gus quickly pulls away and wipes at his eyes. “We can talk about you hiding stuff about Grandma from me later.”

“I just– wait. How did you know that?”

Shawn musters up a small smile, and puts his finger by his head.

Henry isn’t amused. Shawn’s smile falls. His finger doesn’t.

“I’m serious, Dad.”

“Shawn.”

“The universe is a big rug, or uh… tapestry, thing, by the way. Beautiful, masterfully made, but a little coarse. One out of five stars, would not recommend before dying.”

“Shawn, don’t.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Spencer, shut up a second.” Gus leans in close as Henry is stunned by the blatant disrespect from someone who only ever calls him “Mr.” and used to scold Shawn for his misplaced prepositions. “Shawn. Be real with me. You read my mind before, remember that? And I’ve been thinking about all the stuff we’ve done together and– just, tell me straight. Are you actually…”

“Yeah, buddy.” Shawn closes his eyes again. “And it kind of blows.”

“Oh my god.”

“Didn’t see him. Unless he’s the rug, I guess, but I don’t think that’d make very good stained-glass windows.”

“Guster, don’t–”

“He read my mind back at the station! He’s not delusional!”

“Why would he be delusional?” Jules is at Shawn’s bedside, holding a cup of water, offering the straw to Shawn. “Henry, you’ve been acting weird and cagey about this entire thing.”

“Because he’s not–!”

“He is!”

Jules just looks more confused as it sinks in what Henry is not-saying. “Wait, why is this up for debate? You’ve confirmed it for us yourself!”

Shawn’s hands twitch. Bump.

It’ll work out. He can rely on The Universe to ensure Everything will Always work out. But he can make it work out well for everyone, not just himself, he knows it. And he can find it, find the best way to handle this. He can follow the cords without slipping away. He can. He’s done it before, he just didn’t know he was doing it. The sounds of arguing, of his dad finally spilling his secret, of Lassie shouting in vindication and then anger, of all it becomes background noise for a moment.

Bump, bump, bump…

The cords are running through him, but they’re not tight. They’re slack, and malleable. They’re not fully set in place yet. He can shift them. He can manipulate them–

No, no, his grandma told him not to get sucked into that. He wants to. He shouldn’t. He can. He could figure out how to move everything exactly how he wants. It’s right there…

But if he did that, had been doing that the whole time, where would his life be right now? He could probably find out exactly where– he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t need to, doesn’t need to sink into The Universe and play with it to know that he wouldn’t be here, with the good and the bad and all the in-between.

Jules wouldn’t be here. Lassie wouldn’t be here. Gus might not even be here.

He lets out a slow breath.

Bump.

There.

There’s how he can do this without losing everything. Without everyone getting too hurt. Without just letting The Universe settle itself around him and his giant, panicked, longstanding deceptions.

He opens his eyes and everyone is arguing. Jules is furious and betrayed, Gus is yelling at Henry, Henry is fuming, Lassie clearly doesn’t know how to feel–

“Guys!”

His shout turns all eyes on him.

“I can explain everything,” he promises. “Yes, I am psychic. Yes, I lied about solving crimes psychically for years now. How are they both true? Well, let’s start with how my father is terrible at sharing important information until it’s almost not helpful anymore, and then skip right over to Lassie not believing I could get a good tip for him just by watching the news. By the end I promise you’ll all have your minds blown, might even be begging me to sell this as a TV show. Just… sit down.”

Gus does, and eyes the other three expectantly. They all take their seats with more hesitation. But they take them.

Twang. The cords pull taut for a moment as something major shifts, settles, and is firmly woven into place. Shawn can feel it reverberate in his bones. He thinks he’s felt it once before, back when…

“Lassie had me brought into the station after I called in a tip.”

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic #real psychic shawn spencer

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pineapple-psychic · 7 months

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why must i write my own fic?? can't i just imagine one with trans bi shawn spencer dating gus and lassie and also he's a real psychic into existence??? life is pain

#psych #shawn spencer #burton guster #carlton lassiter #trans shawn spencer #real psychic shawn spencer #please i NEED it #shawngus #shassie #🍍

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arc-angel-o · 1 year

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Does anyone know any Real Psychic Shawn fics that take place right after Juliet finds out he's not psychic? Like he only becomes a real psychic after that? I just rewatched Right Turn Or Left For Dead, it's such Real Psychic Shawn food.

#psych #real psychic shawn spencer #psych s7 #psych usa #psych tv #shawn spencer

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corvu-ss · 4 months

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OKAY I CAN DO THINGS NOW

you mentioned that chief doesnt know about the supernaturnal, but someone close to her does? is this a character introduced in psych, or an oc?

are you still planning on writing a fic for this universe?

lassie is unintentionally blocking magic, and you said that it impacts shawn positively with like headaches and lessoning effects, but can he affect the visions negatively? like make it harder to understand?

do they know about their own abilities after it unlocks?

sorry i just love real psychic shawn !!

hello!

so technically both?? it’s a character that exists but isn’t super present so there’s no existing characterization

yes! unfortunately life is a whirlwind but i have started the fic, i just need to finish and post it (it’s gonna be a series of one shots probably)

hmmm possibly! to where i have designed lassies abilities in relation to shawn is that they are mostly touch based, especially at the beginning, so if they touch lassiter essentially blocks all of shawn’s abilities, and just being near lassie (to a certain distance) it dampens abilities to a certain degree so it would certainly make shawn’s visions harder to see them fully and understand them

not necessarily! like once they awaken they don’t just suddenly know all about it, it’s more that once they awaken and learn about it and are conscious of their own abilities, their abilities will start to grow if that makes sense?

#corvus answer #fake real psychic au #real fake psychic au #real psychic shawn spencer #psych #psych tv

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gayofthefae · 1 year

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Saw somebody say that they weren’t getting their hopes up for much Buddie next ep because Buck would probably depend on Bobby with his trauma stuff (at least until they address the Buddie thing together later)...

but guys...

Bobby is gonna be preoccupied with the whole rehab center plotline

~ oh no! Who could Buck possibly go too?! ~ ;)

Not getting my hopes up too much...but a little. I mean, maybe we’ve gotten too used to waiting and now are glossing over the idea that they could talk immediately after because despite the parallels this isn’t just like last time because it’s the second time/role reversal. Just sayin...maybee...

#idk though #you wait so long #sometimes you can't even envision it realistically on your screen anymore #i would do this with my sister watching umbrella academy #make an out of the blue extremely complicated prediction #and then be like #'nvm whatever it's probably not that tho'#and be anywhere from episodes ahead to saying 'no prolly not' SECONDS before it came true #so idk #i'm like that one greek chick #except i'm prophetic and I'M the one who doesn't believe me #like shawn spencer #not going down the shawn is a real psychic who is also observant and doesn't believe in psychics rabbit hole rn though #911fox #ANYWHOOZLE #buddie #buddie predictions

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dumbass-duo-showdown · 7 months

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DUMBASS DUO SHOWDOWN ROUND 1 BATTLE 4

burton guster & shawn spencer (PSYCH) vs Rosencrantz & Guildenstern (Hamlet + Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are dead)

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT

Gus & Shawn

They’ve been friends canonically since at least 3 years old and at the start of the show they’re I wanna say 30 maybe? And yet these two grown men are THE most chaotic idiots (affectionate) in the whole show (and let’s be real anywhere). The entire show in fact hinges on the idea that they’re dumbasses and WILL get into carat shenanigans. Episode examples include the one where they are investigating an alien abduction, the one where they’re looking for big foot, the vampire one, all of these by the way they hundred percent believe to be true until they themselves unwillingly prove otherwise. And maybe the most dumbass moment of all time, when Gus finds his boss dead and instead of calling the cops he gets his dna ALL OVER THE CRIME SCENE, calls Shane to help clean up and Shawn gets HIS DNA ALL OVER THE CRIME SCENE AS WELL!!!! Truly cannot think of a worse reaction to finding a dead body. They’ve been sucking that single brain cell that exists between them dry for over 3 decades now and they show no signs of stopping.

they are such idiots (affectionate) and they can't live without each other

they are. so stupid. both of them can be smart in their own ways but when you put them together the dumb best friends energy is unmatched. they are platonic soulmates pretending that shawn has psychic powers and solve crimes by dicking around and somehow always coming out alive. they accidentally befriend the criminals they’re supposed to be investigating constantly. they’re always one step away from being fired or arrested bc of their dumbassery

the entire show is literally shawn pretending to be a psychic (← dumbass behavior) and gus aiding and abetting him and actively a dumbass as well

If you have seen even a single episode of this show, you know these two fools are the best duo ever. Constantly bantering theough 80s movie references and animal like noises, most often above a dead body, these two bring unique different dummy energy that both brings each other up and builds up their own skills along the way. I will love these two men until the day I die and they deserve an honest chance to be the best dumbass duo of all time!

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern

They have no clue what’s going on and keep trying to figure it out but they keep missing the clues. Rosencrantz keeps echoing Guildenstern (He’s only good in support). They completely miss that they are characters in a tragedy and doomed by the narrative

The OG dumbass duo. Like....these two share one braincel and usually Guildenstern holds it but that makes them none the cleverer.

they literally had a second play written by another person that expanded upon their dumbassery

so like first of all they are one unit. second of all they have silly recorder-related shenaningans. third of all they're doomed by the narrative but they're silly enough to make being doomed by the narrative fun and entertaining

#dumbass duo showdown #round 1 #tumblr tournament #polls #i love polls #tournament #tournament poll #tumblr polls #my polls #fandom poll #fandom bracket #tumblr poll

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shawnaise · 3 months

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Carlton, Take A Break

ok so overworked!lassie meets a concerned!shawn

pairing!! shassie <3

hijinks ensue//fluff

————9:50PM SBPD————

“if you spend another hour here, vick told me you’ll have to start paying rent.”

lassiter had been slumped over his desk for the past… well. shawn couldn’t exactly recall; all he knows is that this morning lassie was asleep on one of the waiting couches by the door when he came in, and god, that could NOT be comfortable.

“go home, spencer. don’t you have a crystal ball to ponder or something?”

the mildly pissed off response didn’t even compare to what carlton usually packed in terms of snappy remarks.. something was bothering him. shawn recollects himself to examine the man;

eyebags, crumpled files in the garbage can, a shaking hand wrapped around a nearly empty fountain pen, and a small downturn of lassiter’s lips.

a case had gone wrong. it had been lassiter’s fault, or so the man thought. but now he was staying up late hours and writing extra reports to compensate for this; and potentially to punish himself.

when shawn sat on the corner of the desk, lassiter couldn’t even muster the energy to scoff.. the psychic, a little downtrodden by this, snatched the pen from the other’s iron grip. shushing the protests before they started.

“shh, lassie, come on dude, when was the last time you went home?”

a fury was slowly being stoked behind tired eyes, “none of your business, spencer. if you had a real job, maybe you’d understand how people usually have to… well.. I don’t know….WORK!”

this sort of weird deflection was not dissuading shawn, if anything it was motivating him. lassie was clearly beating himself up to a degree not yet seen by spencer. one that proved dangerous to the detective’s health.

“ok buddy, I get it, you’re working hard; I can respect the hustle. but you’ve gotta see that at this point you’re not helping your prospects, only hurting them. and yourself.” shawn gathers the last few reports, almost as evidence and spreads them out in front of the man.. the handwriting is sloppy and the sentences either run on for ages or make no sense at all.

with a huff, carlton lays back in his chair for the first time in what must be hours and begins to examine them for himself.. the expression on his face slowly morphs from stoic, to surprised, to defeated as he lets the files slip from his finger tips into the bin beneath his desk.

shawn stands at the helm of the desk and holds out his hand to the other, gesturing mildly,

to his surprise, the older man threads his callused fingers between his own.. and the palm that kisses his is warm and tender from countless hours of writing.. something shifts in shawn’s chest and he finds that it’s not entirely unpleasant..

after the shock wears off.. shawn can’t stop himself from laughing gently at the soft nature of the gesture from lassie of all people..

“i wanted your keys, carlton.”

the detective seems a little shocked at his own actions, if not a bit pink at the realization of what exactly he just did. perhaps he would’ve put up more of a fight about shawn driving his car if he didn’t want to immediately change the subject.

removing his hand from it’s subconsciously executed hold, he digs his keys out from his internal suit pocket and lays them in the palm of the psychic’s hand.

“you need my address..?” carlton seriously doubts that shawn does but it feels almost courteous to ask..

“no, I’ve read your personal file.”

of course he had.

——————————

#a silly silly idea that has been bouncing against the walls of my skull #shawn spencer x carlton lassiter #carlton lassiter x shawn spencer #shassie #shassieposting #psych #psych 2006 #psych usa #shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #ficlet #slash fanfiction #fluff

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pineapplepluto · 2 months

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In the pilot Shawn comes to the police station expecting a commendation and reward money for the tip he called in about the stereo store robbery. He’s called in dozens of tips before but it seems doesn’t usually come to the station afterwards.

So this specific time someone must have asked him to come down, hinting that he’d be rewarded. Clearly not Lucinda (Lassiter’s partner) because she scoffs at the idea when Shawn asks when he’s getting his money. Lassiter has taken the time to read Shawn’s file but he wouldn’t play about pretending that he’s offering a reward.

So it had to be Karen who asked him to come to the station, right? Was she planning to get his help on the McCallum kidnapping as a legit consultant? Then, when Lassiter tried to arrest him, Shawn pulls the whole psychic act as a panicky get-out-of-jail-free move. So Karen rolled with it and hired him as a psychic instead. She tells him she needs a miracle - or the facsimile of one - but really she recognises the perfect opportunity to use Shawn’s skills without having to hire him for a real job at the department.

They both know he’s scamming but she’s the interim Chief and isn’t going to let the feds get away stealing her one chance at such a high profile case. And the Spencer kid is probably going to get bored and leave town soon, so they probably won’t have to keep up this psychic charade for too long…..

#psych #shawn spencer #karen vick #chief vick #psych headcanon #psych rewatch #psych tv #psych usa #psych 2006 #1x01 psych pilot #psych season 1 #my psych posts

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fics4you · 3 months

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I love Psych. I just finished rewatching the entire show. Maybe you could do something where Juliet and Gus for whatever reason are absent, so Lassiter has to deal with a sick Shawn while working a case.

You can choose type of sickness and whatnot, although I'd let ke some snz

Sickie: Shawn

Caretaker: Lassie

(Because Psych is in fact a crime show, there is some mention of blood, death, crime, ect. I also think I should get some credit for coming up with the whole plot of this fic)

Also a warning for a few mentions of nausea

Shawn loved to cause chaos, that was a well known fact. Everybody knew that, especially his coworkers, so it came as a surprise when he had been unnaturally quiet. Gus questioned him about it while they were driving home. Shawn shrugged, "I'm just tired today" Gus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Don't forget I have to go to my real job tomorrow." Gus said, Shawn didn't respond, Gus glanced over at his friend and saw his eyes were glossed over, "hhh- EkTchu hh-KtCHu hh-eh- ktchu"

"bless you" Gus said, Shawn shook his head and cleared his throat. "thanks. What were you saying?" Gus knew Shawn was trying to distract him, but didn't want to embarrass him. "I have my real job tomorrow" Shawn groaned, "and Jules has the day off tomorrow so I'll be stuck with Lassie." Shawn sounded more upset about that than he should have, he usually loved torturing the head detective, so Gus was concerned.

Gus was snapped out of his thoughts when Shawn sneezed loudly, Gus glanced over at his friend, he didn't bother blessing his friend yet, waiting until the next two sneezes came. "Hh- kTchU ehh-KTChU"

"bless you. You alright man?" Gus asked, feeling concerned about his best friend. "Yeah I'm good" Shawn said, he cleared his throat right after. "You don't sound too good. You feeling ok?" Gus asked, concern for his friend rising, "im fine" Shawn said, a note of finality is his tone, Gus rolled his eyes, know how stubborn his friend could be, "am I dropping you off back at your house?"

"yes" Shawn said, "ok" Gus drove his friend back home, "I'll see you after I get off work tomorrow, be careful, stay safe. Don't go to work if you still feel sick tomorrow"

"i-"

"Shawn I've known you forever, I know you're sick. You can't lie to me." Shawn was embarrassed but didn't grace his friend with a response, "get some rest. Let me know how you feel tomorrow" Shawn nodded.

The next morning when Shawn woke up he knew he was anything but fine. He knew he was 100% sick, but being his typical stubborn self, he got out of bed and got dressed, noticing only as he left his shirt was on backwards. He fixed it as he left, chosing to ignore that he hadn't eaten anything yet.

When he arrived at the station he could barely breathe through his nose and his throat was dry and scratchy. He got inside and nearly ran into Lassie, "watch it Spencer." Lassie said, his tone crisp and sharp, "sorry" Shawn said, Lassie was thrown off by Shawn apologizing. "What do we have today?" Shawn asked, Lassie noticed Shawn's voice sounded, but didn't question it. "We have a case, a teenager was found dead in a locker at the local highschool, he was a popular kid that was well liked and a good kid, good grades, loved by everyone, good family, lots of friends-"

"hehh-KtchHu hh-KtcHUh hh-KtcHUh!"

"he was captain of the football team-"

"wow, no bless you?" Shawn said in a mocking exasperated voice, Lassie rolled eyes, and ignored the psychic detective. "An all around good kid, we will be heading to the school" Lassie rolled his eyes, "I can't believe I got stuck with you" Shawn ignored Lassie, "let's go" Shawn said, not really wanting to engage in talking, he didn't feel well, he was tired, he was missing having Gus, he just wanted to get home.

Lassie thought that Shawn was acting weird but didn't really feel like dealing with it. The two headed to Lassie's car, Shawn stopped for a second to duck into the bathroom to get tissues, he was grateful that Lassie didn't notice as he didn't feel like explaining.

The two arrived at the school, and Shawn found himself fighting a gag as they went inside, the school smelled disgusting, which made sense with the whole dead body. Shawn swallowed down bile, "how long was he dead before they found him?"

"I'm not sure. We'll find that out." Lassie glanced over at the psychic, "you alright Spencer?" Shawn looked miserable, "yeah, let's get to it" Shawn said, quickly pushing past the head detective. The closer they got to the crime scene the worse the smell got. Sean thought he was going to actually throw up. Once they arrived a teenage girl ran up to the two of them, years streaming down her face. "Please help! My boyfriend, he's dead" she dropped to the ground sobbing. Lassie cast a disgusted look at the disgruntled teenage girl, "can we get her out of here?" Lassie asked, "no, keep her" Shawn said, despite being sick, his instincts weren't totally gone, and he wanted to question the girl. Lassie glared at Shawn, Shawn stepped closer to the crime scene tape, the girl followed at his heels, Lassie came behind them, they went over to the boy, "when was he found?" An adult, whom Shawn suspected to be a teacher, was standing nearby, "this young lady found him, it's his girlfriend so she had his locker combination, and people were commenting on the smell so she said that she would check it. This was this morning."

"when did the smell start?" Lassie asked taking his pen out.

"it was noticeable for the first time today" The girl said. "Did- hh- hetTcHu ehh-KTChU hkTCHu-

"bless you"

"thank you, did anyone else have his locker combo?"

"no" the girl said, despite her emotion, she had a note of pride in her voice, "just me. Because he loves me"

"ok, can my partner and I have a moment to di-hh-ihsc- ukTcHu ehhkTCHu ehh-ktchu- snf- my partner and I need a moment to discuss" Shawn said, the teacher took the girl and they left the area, "csn you pull yourself together Spencer? What is wrong with you?" Lassie said, his voice sharp, "hey, despite everything I have a lead" Lassie tried to not look impressed, "explain."

"think about it, the body started smelling today, but there's no way that a body that decayed only started smelling today, which me-hh-hetChu- EkTchu hh-KtCHu- means that the body was put in there last night, and this about what the girl said, she's the only one that knew his code. I bet if he looked at the se-eh- snf- security tapes it would show her." Shawn's voice trailed off at the end, and he brought his elbow up to his face, "hh-KtCHu- hehh-KtchHu hh-KtcHUh ehh-tTchU hktChU ehh-KTChU"

"bless you" Lassie said, trying not to show he was actually someone concerned about Shawn. "Sorry" Shawn said, he coughed into his elbow, "Shawn... Are you sick?"

"maybe a little" Lassie rolled his eyes, "why did you come in today?"

"I get bored. And Gus had to work today. And look, I figured it out, so I'm not useless."

"it's not about how useless or useful you are, it's about the fact that you're sick you idiot." Shawn was confused, he didn't understand why Lassie even cared, "anyways, let's look at those security cameras," Shawn said, he started walking away, "do you even know where you're going?"

"Nope!" Shawn said, he began wandering around aimlessly. Lassie rolled his eyes, but somehow still ended up following Shawn. They ended up at an office door labeled principal "how-?"

"psychic" Shawn said simply, when in reality it was just a very lucky guess. Lassie knocked on the closed door, a woman opened it, "hello, we are with the Santa Barbara police department. We are investigating the death of Liam Jones. We're here to watch some security cameras"

"oh thank you for coming. My secretary said she had met you, yes, come in."

"can we see the tapes from last night?"

"last night? The principal looked confused, "but he couldn't have smelled that and after only a few hours?... Right?" The principal said softly, but she pulled the tapes up from the night before, and sure enough at around 1 AM a window opened and the girl came in, dragging a large bag with her. The principal gasped, she fell backwards into the chair, "that's Meghan! His girlfriend! What... Let me get her in here"

"not yet, let's finish watching them first." The principal was shaking, but that wasn't what worried Lassie, as Shawn was shaking almost as much as the principal was, the detective was holding his leather jacket closed with one hand, the other one was held against his nose, but his eyes were focused on the screen. Lassie wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was impressed by the dedication of the psychic.

Shawn's eyes never left the screen he wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything. He needed to sneeze so bad, but even blinking could be detrimental to the case. So he kept his hand beneath his nose and his eyes on the screen. They watched as the petite girl displayed concerning strength as she shoved the corpse into the locker, Shawn was somewhat impressed at her strengths but he also knew that adrenaline is one heck of a drug. She had a crazed look in her eyes that Shawn recognized as obsession, "let's bring her in" Lassie said as the tape fizzled out as she climbed back out the same window. Shawn was grateful for the distraction, he pulled a tissue out of his pocket, "hh-KtCHu- ehh-ktchu hhktchu"

"bless you" Lassie said, Shawn waved him off with one hand, while his other hand held a tissue as he tended to his nose. The principal paged the young girl to the office, and the second she walked in the door Shawn noticed that the smell of rotted flesh followed her, and he noticed bruises on her hands that could have come from the ropes of the bag, the girl had a sickly look on her face, Shawn guessed the weight of what she'd done was starting to set in. Lassie sent the principal out and then turned to the girl, "Come take a seat" Lassie said, the girl sat on the chair, "Miss Megan I have a few questions for you"

"yes?"

"why were you dragging your boyfriend's corpse into the school last night?" Her eyes widened and she burst into tears, "It's not my fault! I had to find somewhere to put him and I thought that no one would notice."

"Why-"

"I didn't even notice the smell, I guess I was used to it."

"how long ago-"

"he's been dead for a few weeks. But everyone thought he was at a college for a competition, because I posed as his mom and sent an email to the teacher"

"Megan, why did you kill him?"

"he- i- it was an accident I promise." The girl said, not even bothering to deny it. "I found out that he was going to break up with me, so I had seen something in a TV show that said that a girl drugged her boyfriend so he would become addicted to her" she sobbed "but I didn't know they meant drugs like nicotine, so I put an entire bottle of crushed up Tylenol in his coffee. And not only did it make him super sick, but apparently he was also allergic so his throat closed up and he couldn't throw up" she sobbed, Shawn and Lassie exchanged a glance "why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I didn't think anyone would find out it was me, I didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident." Shawn was thrown off, how stupid was this girl, that was bold coming from the guy who was at a crime scene with what could potentially be the flu. "Miss Megan Ross, you are unfortunately under arrest for the murder of Liam Jones" the girl started crying, "please stand up" Lassie said, the girl stood, she was sobbing uncontrollably, she didn't even try and fight them, "Come along" Lassie called the station for Chief to send a car to take the girl back to the station while they finished the legal documents. They also contacted the morgue and the girl's parents to meet them at the station.

Once things slowed down a bit and Shawn and Lassie were the only ones left, Lassie turned to the psychic, "do you want me to take you home before we do the paperwork?" Shawn was thrown off by the head detective's kindness, "no I'm okay" Shawn said, his voice had reached the point where it was so scratchy and so congested that he was nearly impossible to understand. "You sound horrible Spencer, "gee thanks Lassie" the detective rolled his eyes, "you know what I mean Shawn." Shawn was thrown off by the use of his real name, "I'm taking you home. You're sick as a dog"

"I'm f- hekTchuh heh-KTchU- ehh-ktchu fine"

"like hell you are Spencer we're leaving. You're going home and that's not a suggestion that's an order."

"technically I don't work for you so technically you can't order me to do anything"

"Spencer I will shoot you with a taser if I have to."

"that goes against protocol" Lassie rolled his eyes, "is it really so hard for you to accept that you're sick?"

"yes. I don't like to be fussed over. It's the only time I don't want or like attention" Shawn admitted, surprising both himself and Lassie, "well if you'd just go home you can be miserable in the comfort of your own home. And we won't bother you"

"fine" Shawn said, mostly because that sounded really nice and all he wanted was to be in his own bed in the comfort of his own home. Lassie and Shawn went out to the trooper, "honestly, I'm impressed how you not only solved that case so fast, but also while sick" Lassie admitted as they drove, "I had good motivation "

"which was?"

"I wanted to go home"

"fair enough." Lassie stopped in front of Shawn's home, "oh and Spencer, next time you're sick. Just don't come in"

"yes sir"

#sickfic #sick #fluff #psych #crime scene #snz #crime drama

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