Don't worry—for those of you who are reading Just Hanging Around, I'm not giving up on it just yet!

This is just a plot bunny that made its home in my head.

Warning: rated for language and disorder

LOTS OF WHUMPAGE COMING AHEAD…

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Shawn felt so frustrated that he wanted to cry. Everything was so unfair! His dad was out on some fishing weekend, Jules was visiting her family in Hawaii, and Gus was at a pharmaceuticals convention for a whole week!

And Shawn couldn't handle being alone. Without someone there to talk to, Shawn's memories would absorb him and he'd fall into a deep depression.

Luckily, he could still go get a case. "Let's go see what Lassie has in store for today!" As Shawn raced out of Psych to hop on his motorcycle, he shook himself. When he was younger, Henry had told him how wrong it was to talk to himself. Even now, with no one around, Shawn felt the need to keep up the pretense that he wasn't going insane.

But the doctors know the truth, he thought bitterly. In fact, they'd been the ones to try to get him to talk to a shrink for his nightmares. Instead, Shawn accepted the medicine they proscribed and pretended he was fine.

Unfortunately, the second he was alone, Shawn had to listen to his thoughts. Thoughts he'd been blocking out for seven years now. These were the thoughts that stemmed from the time he had run from Santa Barbara.

Back then, Shawn was whole.

Now he was a mess.

Entering the station, Shawn could see that Lassiter was in Chief Vick's office, talking to…was that Garf? From back in New York?

"I have to go right now." Shawn told himself, ignoring an odd look a passing policeman gave him. "If Garf recognizes me, I'm totally dead. I wonder why he's here anyway."

Turning back towards the door, Shawn lost himself in thought. Garf had been his partner back when he was Head Detective. Now, the young and eager fellow was probably Head Detective. Shawn gulped. He'd left Garf behind after…the incident. No doubt, Garf must be mad.

"Shawn? Is that really you?"

Shawn cursed when he realized that Garf was out of Chief Vick's office, grinning absurdly at him. Why didn't I leave when I got the chance?

Lassiter followed Garf out. "You two know each other?" Lassie asked incredulously.

In spite of himself, Shawn grinned. Everything would be fine as long as they left Macoby out of it. "How are you?" he asked his old partner.

Garf's face darkened a shade. "I've been doing better. Macoby's escaped from prison."

Shawn looked wildly around the police station, and Lassiter found it odd to see that the fake psychic seemed to be scared.

"Escaped?" Shawn echoed. He didn't really expect an answer. Memories were swirling around his head, and the police station seemed like it was miles away. Trying to focus, Shawn could see Garf staring worriedly at him. Pull yourself together.

With an effort, Shawn pressed the memories to the back of his mind where they normally lurked. It was okay. Nothing had happened. "I mean, who's Macoby?" Shawn felt the room pressing in on him.

Garf narrowed his eyes, but didn't press the subject. He knew the reason Shawn had left.

"He sounds pretty evil!" Shawn continued, aware that he was rambling. But if you tell yourself something enough, it makes it true. I've never heard of a 'Macoby.' "The sprits just gave me a strong vision of him! He seems like the type to…" Shawn trailed off, feeling his eyes widen as memories of what Macoby was capable of filtered into his mind.

Suddenly, Macoby was there in the room. Where had the police station gone?

"I've been watching you!" he growled.

Then Macoby reached forward…and took what he wanted from Shawn.

When Shawn felt hands touch his shoulder, he stifled a scream. Macoby didn't like it when Shawn cried out…

"You okay?" The words floated to him from a great distance.

With a jolt, Shawn brought himself back to the present.

Garf was holding Shawn up, keeping him from dropping onto the floor of the police station. "I see you haven't changed at all since you left," Garf remarked with regret. "And what's this about 'spirits'?"

This time, it was Lassie who interjected. "Don't you know? Spencer claims to be a psychic!" The Head Detective was obviously trying to get a rise out of Garf, but he was severely disappointed.

Garf threw his head back and laughed. "So that's the most recent tale! You know, Shawn, you are the only vict—person to get that creative at blocking out Macoby!"

Lassiter confusedly turned to Spencer, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously.

"I do not block anything out!" Shawn ground out. "And I'm not a…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, but Garf got the idea.

His eyes softened. "Shawn, it's fine. I know you're not. Slip of the tongue." Garf glanced nervously at Lassie, who was trying to understand what was going on. "And if you want to tell them you're psychic, or that you have a true love back home, or that you haven't met Macoby, go ahead."

Shawn's anger evaporated. Garf was so sweet sometimes. He stood up, brushing off his old partner's hands. "So what brought you here, then?"

Garf glanced nervously at his old partner in crimestopping. He'd known Shawn for a long time, and was used to Shawn's lies and flashbacks. After all, PTSD was a real condition, and it wasn't Shawn's fault that he couldn't cope. "Well, as you know, Macoby escaped from prison. Word is that he's coming here. He has a specific victim in mind."

Lassiter jumped in, eager to explain to Spencer the police work he was going to get to do. "Word is, the previous Head Detective quit right after catching Macoby, and it's said that he works in Santa Barbara now. Unfortunately, the files on the Head Detective were lost, so no one but people from the NYPD knows who it was. That's why Garf is here."

Seeing the panicked look in Shawn's eyes, Garf corrected Lassiter. "I'm here to catch a criminal. If the Head Detective wants to remain anonymous, I'll stay true to his wishes."

Shawn shot Garf a grateful but confused look. "Did you just say Head Detective? Not previous Head Detective? Aren't you Head Detective by now?"

Garf smiled sheepishly as he shook his head. "The Head Detective's resignation papers were mysteriously misplaced. Until he resubmits them, he still has a job."

"God, why?" Shawn shouted. Everyone in the police station turned to look at him. The fake psychic made no attempt to lower his voice. "Are you telling me I've still been a FUCKING DETECTIVE AFTER EVERYTHING I WENT THROUGH? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NIGHTS I'VE STAYED UP FEELING MACOBY'S FUCKING HANDS ALL OVER ME? And now you come to tell me that he's back and I'm still in the job? How could you?" The last three words were a whisper.

Feeling like he was a trapped animal in a ring of hunters, Shawn spun around. Suddenly, every police officer had Macoby's face, leering at him. "I've never seen Macoby before in my life!" Shawn tried to convince himself. Turning to Garf, he asked, "Who are you? I've never met you. I was never in New York for any time at all! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Shawn felt claustrophobia build up around him. He quickly ran out of the police station, ignoring Garf's resigned and Lassie's shocked looks. All he wanted to do was forget. Hopping on his bike, Shawn sped far away.

When Shawn left, after a pause, the policemen turned back to their work and Lassiter turned to Garf.

"What the hell was that about?" Lassiter asked the detective from New York.

The blond man nervously flicked his eyes up at the Head Detective from Santa Barbara. In the split second, he made a decision. Shawn obviously was still in denial and needed help. "Shawn is the Head Detective of New York."

Lassiter laughed. "You're trying to tell me that Spencer—the self-proclaimed psychic who never shows up for anything on time—is a detective?"

Garf shook his head slowly. "Not anymore. I mean, officially, he is, but Shawn quit years ago. Macoby managed to capture Shawn and…violated him. And you know about Shawn's eidetic memory…"

"I don't, actually," Lassiter interrupted, the humor gone from his expression.

Garf looked shocked. "Well, Shawn remembers everything he sees. Since Macoby kidnapped him, Shawn hasn't been able to deal with the memories. He refused to see a therapist, and instead, tries to lie to himself that everything's fine."

"So that's what you and Spencer were talking about earlier!"

Garf nodded. "And now, Macoby is after Shawn. I don't think he'll survive this time around."

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