The moment Shawn had woken up this morning, he knew that he was in for a day from hell. He had promised Gus the day before that he'd organize his desk. Of course, if he planned on doing that before trying to mooch a case from the chief then he'd need to be up early. So when his alarm clock went off at eight o'clock this morning, Shawn had groaned. Glaring at the offending device, he contemplated turning it off and going back to sleep. However, when he closed his eyes he saw the face of a very angry Gus staring back at him. So he yanked himself from bed, showered quickly never even enjoying the feel of the hot spray against his body. It was when he got to the kitchen that he noticed that he was missing something important. Rubbing his hands against his face, Shawn mumbled a few obscenities when he realized that he was out of coffee. So he left quickly, stopping off for coffee and a doughnut before pulling up in front of the office.
The organizing process had been boring and tedious, but he had finished right around lunch time. Smiling, proud of a job well done, Shawn had left for the station. That was when his day would go from partially crappy to full blown hell. Pulling in front of the station, he yanked his helmet off his head and made his way up the stairs. Upon entering, he heard a shouting match. Lassiter was arguing with someone. No surprise there. Not really. That is until Shawn came around the corner and saw a man holding a gun against a young boy's head. His eyes were crazed, and Shawn felt something bad gnawing at the inside of his stomach.
Shawn stood for a moment, his wide eyes staring at the scene. However, after a moment his hyper-observant side kicked in, and he took in everything. How Juliet and McNabb were inching closer on the right side, while a couple of other officers, Nash and Wallace, inched closer on the left hand side. Lassiter was the decoy, keeping the hostage taker's attention on him, obvious to the other officers.
Shawn shook his head, this plan was horrible. It was going to back-fire and the kid was going to pay the price. If any of those other officers make one ounce of noise, than the gun-toting idiot would do something stupid, like pull the trigger.
"Hold up! I'm getting something here—Wait a second. I had a feeling that my friendly police officers needed me. Apparently I was correct." Shawn paused, and winked at Lassiter.
The four officers that were advancing on the gun-wielding psycho, had stopped. Juliet was staring at Shawn with a look that said, shut up and go away. He simply smiled at her. His hands in the air in front of him.
"Hello, there. How about we don't do anything stupid, and let the poor little boy go."
A sneer appeared on the face across from him. "How about you go to hell. Who are you?"
"Oh, right. How absolutely rude of me! I'm Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic of the SBPD, and you are?"
"Leaving, as soon as these stupid pigs move the hell out of my way."
Shawn nodded. "I don't think that my fine friends here can do that. I mean aside from the fact that there is fear for the child, there is also the fact that you pulled a weapon with the threat of using it." Shawn peered behind him when a hand reached out to touch his shoulder.
"Shut the hell up, Spencer." Shawn smiled and moved slightly to the left. "Spencer. You're blocking my shot." Lassiter spoke through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, apologies for that, Lassie. It is necessary." Shawn sighed, as he returned his attention back to the man in front of him. "Now, I'm sure that my friends here have asked you to lower your weapon, and I don't like sounding like a broken record, but I would appreciate it if you did lower your weapon."
"And I would appreciate it if you crawled in a hole and died. At least then you'd shut the hell up."
Shawn nodded. "Fair enough. I am afraid that if you don't lower your weapon, then we're going to have to do something drastic."
"Try me. Remember, I do have a young little hostage here."
"I don't need reminding, I can see him perfectly fine." Shawn sighed, and looked at the boy. "What's your name?"
Shawn could see that he was visibly shaking, and felt bad for the poor boy. "J-J-Jeremy."
Shawn smiled, as he knelt down for a moment. "Don't worry, Jeremy. We're going to make sure that you don't get hurt. I promise."
Jeremy sniffled, as he swiped a hand against his nose. Shawn stood back up and looked the man in his. The sneer never left his face, and Shawn fixed him with a glare. For just a moment, Shawn looked at Juliet and barely motioned with his head. Juliet realized what he was going to do, and shook her head. Smiling softly at her, he returned to glare at the man.
"You brought this on yourself." Shawn sneered back at him. Moving forward a few steps, the man's gun moved for a moment from Jeremy's head to Shawn's chest. Diving forward, Shawn grabbed a hold of Jeremy's legs and yanked him down. His hand snatched out to make sure Jeremy's head didn't hit the floor. Rolling so that Jeremy was shielded by his body, Shawn heard a gunshot ring out followed by a white hot pain in his left hand side. His vision blurred as a multiple other gunshots rang out. Rolling over, Shawn looked at Jeremy.
"Are y-y-ou okay?"
Jeremy nodded, fear etched on his features. Lassiter yanked Jeremy up, as Juliet knelt down beside Shawn.
"You're going to be okay, Shawn."
He nodded, as he took her hand in his. "Your plan was going to backfire." Shawn paused and closed his eyes against the pain. "I couldn't see any of you getting hurt. I—had to do something. To save my friends, to protect that child—Jeremy, to put an end to something so evil. I know not all people could have done this, to do something so—unthinkable, but it was for the greater good."
Juliet brushed her tears away, as she yanked her suit jacket off and pressed it against the still seeping wound in Shawn's left side. His eyes drifted close as his breathing slowed. "Stay with me, Shawn."
Lassiter knelt down on Shawn's right side and pressed two fingers to his neck. "Thready. Press harder, O'Hara. We're losing him." He kept his fingers in place until Shawn's pulse slowed and was no longer there. Sighing, Lassiter's head hung. "He's gone."