Not Anymore.

Gus hadn't gotten the hint until after the high school reunion. He'd always been one to really examine big events later on when he was just crawling into bed. Assuming Shawn wasn't in it.

Shawn had decided to walk Abigail to her car and then disappeared entirely. Gus was sure he'd receive a phone call around 3 am from Shawn either rejoicing or whining. Gus hated those phone calls. If Shawn was excited, Gus felt an overwhelming need to break Shawn. A few times when this feeling came over him, Gus managed to use the information Shawn gave him to showcase Shawn's date in a way that had him never wanting to see her again.

If Shawn was disappointed, Gus felt an uncontrollable need to placate Shawn with distractions. Sometimes he'd bring over sappy teen dramas like the O.C so that Shawn could count the number of times Ryan gave his "oh-so-brooding over the shoulder gaze". Sometimes they'd spend the night just talking. Once they'd watched Wow, Wow, Woobzy for seven hours straight. Good news or bad, Gus wasn't looking forward to the details of Shawn's latest conquest.

Gus had showered, straightened up, and checked the locks. He'd had them changed after he found a copy of his keys in Shawn's desk. He'd just settled down into bed and he tried to sleep but his neurons were still firing. One comment he'd heard from practically everyone at the reunion kept circling his mind. "I thought you'd be a big business man/ doctor/ lawyer by now. You were always so good at _______(insert the name of the one class they remembered him from). I was sure you'd be too busy to make it tonight." It was a cycle of the same sentiments coming from just about everyone. Now that he thought about it, even Mira had said that she'd expected Gus to come looking for her earlier, happily engaged and with a great life.

He'd been hearing those kinds of comment from his mother ever since he joined Psych. He barely had to mention Shawn's name for his mother to launch into her 'Could've Done So Much More With Your Life" speech. Everyone, it seemed, believed that Gus could've made it big, become a big something; everyone except Gus.

He'd never really been one to put much stock in 10 year plans. For a guy that liked to plan things out at least 2 weeks ahead, Gus didn't believe he could keep to a 10 year plan. Not with Shawn dragging him along to Mexico or Rio or on tours across America whenever he felt it necessary. No, Burton Guster didn't believe in 10 year plans; but if he did, he knows Shawn would be a part of it. Whether Gus planned it that way or not.

Gus sighed, turning over to turn out his light. He dreamed Shawn had pulled a huge bank heist. He pretended to be some agent for the Treasury Department with a badge he'd gotten in a cereal box. He'd gotten all of the money into Gus's car and was beckoning for Gus, who for some reason was still in his pajamas. "Gus come on! Greenland awaits! We have to see if it's really green."

As usual, when Shawn suggested one of his crazy schemes, Gus started to object. He'd barely gotten his mouth open when a dense fog formed and dissipated to reveal an odd phantom version of Shawn. Only this Shawn was wearing a simple black suit with a blood-red tie. His usual convincing smirk had contorted to form a vindictive sneer. "Run, run little Guster." Gus paused, having seen enough ghost movies to know that disobeying the ghost is never a good idea. He started running towards the car and he was halfway there when Ghost Shawn clothe-lined him with great force.

"Really?" he cried in great disbelief, both eyebrows cocked. "That's all I had to say?" Gus coughed, his chest feeling tight and heavy on his lungs. In all the movies he'd seen, the ghost was never violent… or solid. As if reading his thoughts, Ghost Shawn laughed. "When have you ever known me to follow all the rules?"

Gus nodded, slowly getting to his feet. He coughed a few times, his eyes finally settling on the real Shawn, frozen in time in the front seat of Gus's car. The entire dream world appeared to be frozen in time, aside from Gus and Ghost Shawn. Ghost Shawn held his hand out to help Gus up and didn't look at all put out when Gus warily ignored it.

Gus finally managed to get a word out. "Why?"

"Look at him" Ghost Shawn gestured to Real Shawn frozen in time. "He just committed a bunch of felonies… in your work vehicle. He's even playing with your work phone." Gus stared at the frozen expression of glee on Real Shawn's face. A shadow of a thought swirled in his mind. … if it makes him happy…

Ghost Shawn shook his head in frustration, his teeth clenching as he turned sideways and disappeared, appearing suddenly behind Gus. He shoved him forward into the ground, shaking his head in disgust as Gus rubbed his gravel-scratched face.

Gus didn't understand it. How can he hurt me? He's a ghost… in my dream. Again, Ghost Shawn answered his thoughts as he rose a few feet above the ground. "Simple; you let me. And if I was exactly like your precious Shawn, don't you think I would spent at least twenty minutes bragging about being able to fly?" True, Gus thought.

Gus opened his mouth again as Ghost Shawn started speaking again. "There's no need for you to keep asking questions. This is your dream, Gus. I know your thoughts. Even the one's you have about me when you let your mind wander. And before you have that office fantasy again, you should no that I am not and never have been that flexible. I told you to buy more sensible office furniture, did I not?"

Despite the information, Gus tried to ask his question anyway. "See that's what I'm getting at. You were going to ask me what I want from you. Oh come on!" Gus simply watched as Ghost Shawn's face warped into a terrifying expression of pure rage. He dissipated and formed behind Gus again and shoved him harshly forward towards a brick wall that hadn't been there before. He stopped Gus in time to avoid a concussion before shoving Gus backwards onto his ass. "It's pathetic, don't you think? It's fucking pathetic. You're always trailing behind him, letting him walk all over you. What about what you want? What about what you could've been? Do you ever think of yourself?"

Gus stuttered, crawling backwards as Ghost Shawn waltzed toward him, the air barely wavering beneath his phantom feet. He came to rest directly above Gus's body. He smiled wickedly. "Do you think he cares? No, I'm serious, honey." He laughed raucously. "No, do you really think he fucking cares about you half, no a sixteenth as much as you do? Are you shitting me?" He lowered himself to the ground and with a tilt of his head, Gus was falling out of the scene in front of the bank and onto the harsh unforgiving pavement of a rushing freeway in another scene entirely.

Gus yelped and jumped to his feet, spinning in circles looking a for a way out. There were ten lanes and he was in the very middle, on the median balanced on the thin concrete slab. With a flick of his finger, Ghost Shawn sent Gus flying directly in front of a speeding 18-wheeler. And with a snap, the truck stopped millimeters away from Gus, the grill tapping his chest. He pulled Gus to the side of the road and let the traffic resume its dangerous speed.

Ghost Shawn smirked, crossing his arms and for a brief moment, he looked exactly like Real Shawn. So much so that Gus was filled with a feeling of nostalgia. He'd give anything to be back, awake in the Psych office hearing Shawn go on and on about his stupid date. Hell, he'd settle for staying in this dream back at the bank with Shawn. But that scene had disappeared.

Wait, Gus thought, if you died in a dream, you automatically woke up, right?Gus nodded to himself and took a running leap at the traffic and he almost made it before what felt like a heap of metal slammed him back. Gus screamed, grabbing at his chest and felt nothing, no pain, no blood, nothing. He opened his eyes to see Ghost Shawn's furious face. If Gus thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to now. He looked like he wanted to kill Gus in the most painful way possible.

"You idiot! You stupid idiot!" Cold transparent hand gripped his flannel pajamas sending chills straight down Gus's spine. "You can't get to Shawn so you jump in front of traffic. How Shakespearean of you."

Gus gasped for breathe, trying to breathe past the crushed feeling he felt. This was a nightmare worse than any he'd had before. "I wasn't trying to.. I wanted-"

"Stop it, Gus! You can't lie to me; I'm you. You wanted to find Shawn so that he could tell you what to do. Tell you how to think. Well give it up." He crouched low next to Gus's ear. "Give it up, now." He looked held Gus's gaze, smiling sinisterly. "Because it's not gonna happen. It's not going to be that easy."

Gus gave up trying to breathe, losing the staring contest as he did. He rolled onto his back, gravel nicking him. "I'm the voice inside your head that makes you say 'no' about fifty times before your heart makes you say 'yes' anyway. Because you always go along with whatever I say. You always have and you always will say yes to me. It's all you know how to do. You smoked a pack of cigarettes, stole a lawnmower, chased a serial killer. You'll do anything I ask." He sneered as Gus opened his mouth to object. "Don't deny it. You're going to wake up in 2 minutes to listen to me go on and on about my coffee date even though you'd like nothing more than to roll over and go to sleep. Because it kills you, it kills you that I-"

Gus gasped as he jerked awake. Cold sweat ran down his bed as his eyes scanned the room looking for what woke him up. His cell phone was vibrating in circles on his nightstand, Justice ringtone blaring into Gus's nearest ear. Out of reflex, Gus reached out for it, arm blocking out the '3:57' reading on his alarm clock. His thumb hovered over 'accept' when a thought trailed into his head. "…fucking pathetic", "could've been so much more" and "…kills you…", "…would've had a girlfriend by now…".

Before Gus could have second thoughts, he hit the 'ignore' button. And he did it again and again and again 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 30, 40, 50 minutes later when Shawn called again. Around the 57th time, Gus stopped dwelling on it. He shook head as he brushed his teeth, mumbling through the minty foam, "I always come running. Well not anymore."