Santa Barbara, California, 1977

Madeline Spencer smiled softly at her newborn son. He was fast asleep in her arms, lips slightly parted, long eyelashes fluttering. She never knew that her heart could be filled with so much love for one person. Their perfect family of three was complete.

Henry came back into his wife's hospital room after filling out his son's birth certificate. Henry had decided on the name Shawn, and Madeline agreed to it. Shawn Henry Spencer, he thought to himself. He couldn't think of a more fitting name for his newborn son. He placed a hand on Madeline's shoulder and rubbed it affectionately.

"He was worth the ten hours of labor," Madeline said. She leaned down to kiss Shawn's forehead. When her lips touched his forehead, she noticed how cold it was. She gripped one of his tiny fingers in her hand and noticed that was cold too.

"Henry is his skin supposed to be so cold?" Madeline asked her husband.

Henry responded running his thumb over Shawn's forehead. "He is cold," Henry observed. "That's odd."

Madeline's breath got caught in her throat. "Henry, his lips are turning blue! Get the doctor!"

Henry ran out of the room and called for the first doctor he saw. "My son's lips are turning blue. He's ice cold."

A swarm of doctors and nurses ran into Madeline's room. One of the doctors removed Shawn from Madeline's arms, eliciting a sob from the woman. Madeline gripped Henry's arm tightly as she watched her son get whisked away from them.

Henry stroked Madeline's hair back as she cried into his shoulder. "He'll be okay, Mad. The doctors will take care of him. They know what they're doing."

Between the exhaustion of labor and the sudden panic of her son being taken away from her, Madeline felt her eyes drooping against her will. She was so tired.

"Rest Maddie," she heard Henry tell her. "I'll wake you up when the doctor comes back."

Henry studied behavior for a living. It's what he did. It's what he was good, no, great at. He prided himself on that fact. So, he knew as soon as the doctor stepped into the room that his son's condition was not good.

Like he promised, he woke Madeline up before the doctor could say anything about Shawn. Madeline jolted awake with Henry's touch. "Shawn?" She asked groggily. "Is he okay? How's my son?"

The doctor stepped forward and shook both of their hands. "I'm Doctor Adams. I'm the neonatal cardiologist for your son. I'm afraid I have some bad news to share. After further examination of your son,"

"Shawn. My son's name is Shawn," Henry corrected.

"Yes, Shawn," Doctor Adams said. "I have diagnosed him with Tetralogy of the Fallot. It is a congenital heart defect. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this."

Henry stared blankly back at the doctor. He had to admit, he was not at all familiar with congenital heart defects. He never thought something like that could happen to his son. His whole career focused on paying attention to the details, and seeing things people overlooked. Congenital heart defects was the one thing he overlooked. Never would he have imagined that he would be having this conversation with his son's doctor.

Doctor Adams continued. "This defect affects the structure of Shawn's heart, and causes poor oxygen flow out of the heart and the rest of the body. This is why he was cold to the touch and his skin was turning blue. Unfortunately, surgery is the only treatment. I'll have to run further tests to determine what would be the most effective surgery for your son, but we will need to operate as soon as possible. I need you to understand that this may not be the only heart surgery Shawn will need. This is a lifelong condition. Even though we can repair it in infancy and childhood, this condition will continue into adulthood."

Henry ran a hand through his thinning hair as Doctor Adams spoke, thinking of something of to say. For the first time in his life, he was at a complete loss for words. "Thank you doctor," he replied lamely.

"Where is Shawn now?" Madeline said. "Can I see him?"

"He's recovering in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. You can see him, but please be aware that we had to ventilate Shawn. He's currently not breathing on his own, and he is attached to various machines."

Madeline nodded slowly. "Please, I need to see my son. I need to be with him."

Doctor Adams nodded. "Of course. I'll have a nurse escort you down." He shook both of their hands again and left.

Henry slunk down in the uncomfortable plastic chair he was sitting in. He rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on. He couldn't imagine what the future held for his son.

Santa Barbara, California, 2008

Shawn stood in front of the mirror, playing with the top button of his button-down shirt. If he left it unbuttoned, he (and everyone else) could see the top of his open heart surgery scar poking out. If he buttoned it, he risked being hot all day. A downside to living in California was that the summers were always sweltering hot out.

Shawn checked his wristwatch. He was running late, as usual, and Gus was waiting for him in the Blueberry outside. It was hot, Shawn thought, It would be silly if he buttoned his shirt all the way up to his neck. He left it unbuttoned, grabbed his wallet and keys and left his apartment.

Shawn got into the car and immediately cranked the AC as high as it could go.

"You're late," Gus commented. "We're late."

"It's me Gus, what did you expect?" Shawn said, adjusting the air vents so they directed the cool air onto his face. He covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned.

"You don't look good. Did you get enough sleep last night?" Gus asked.

He had. He had gotten plenty of sleep. He fell asleep on his couch at nine o'clock and didn't wake up until his cell phone rang at noon. "I did, I'm fine."

Gus pulled into the parking lot of the crime scene. He had received a call from The Chief about a young woman who had unexpectedly died in her apartment, and she suspected foul play. Shawn would have to be on his game if he wanted to figure out this case.

Shawn got out of the car, and wavered slightly. He put his hand on the hood of the car to steady himself. He tried to take a few deep breaths, but found the simple action difficult. His vision became blurry around the edges, but he blinked a few times, and it went away. He hoped no one noticed. Was it this hot when they left? Shawn thought.

Buzz McNab waved to the pair as the approached the apartment building. "Hey guys," the friendly officer greeted. "The Chief's waiting for you upstairs."

"Thanks Buzz," Shawn replied, devoid of his usual pleasant tone.

When they entered the building, Shawn pressed the elevator button, while Gus headed for the stairs.

"Really Shawn?" Gus joked. "You're going to take the elevator up to the second floor? You should start working out with me."

"It's faster this way," Shawn lied. He didn't think he would be able to walk up one stair right now, let alone a flight.

The elevator doors opened, and they took the short ride up to the second floor. They followed the crime scene tape until they got to the victim's apartment.

"Hey Shawn, hey Gus," Juliet greeted, pulling her notepad from her pocketbook. "The victim's name is Maggie Ross, age twenty seven. She was found by her next door neighbor."

Shawn closed his eyes as Juliet's voice dragged on. He knew he had to listen to what she was saying, but he couldn't focus. His brain felt like a thick fog had rolled over and blocked his ability to think. He tried to grab on to the chair next to him, but missed.

Juliet dropped her notepad and tried to catch Shawn as he fell. She saw his eyes roll back into his head as she laid him on the ground.

"Shawn? Shawn!" She yelled, her voice rising with panic.

It was too late for Shawn to hear her. He was already unconscious.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my first Psych story! This was inspired by the ever-mysterious scar on James Roday's chest. Also, I am not a doctor, but it is important to me that this story is as medically accurate as possible. If you liked this start, please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of its characters.