Disclaimer: If I owned Psych do you really think I'd be posting in fan fiction? No, I'd be putting my ideas in the show.
A/N: This is based off a true event in my life.
Shawn Spencer, fake psychic for the SBPD, stared down at all the blood. He swallowed dryly. There was so much more than there should have been. The deep red liquid just kept pouring out of him, faster than it should have. This is not good, he thought idly to himself as he stumbled into the next room.
He closed his heavy eyes, he may not last much long. Not after a wound like this. But there was always hope, or at least that's what Shawn always thought. That's what always kept him happy. Hope. He hoped he was able to keep his wits about him long enough to find help. Gus was near by. Shawn was sure. Gus had to be near. Gus was waiting for him.
Was Gus needing Shawn for something? Shawn couldn't remember, his mind was beginning to get foggy. Never a good sign. He looked down again, the blood was still coming at an unusual rate. Ah, great. His hands started trembling. He really needed Gus. Although who knew how Gus would act around the excess amount of blood.
Yes, the blood. Shawn stumbled a few more steps, then leaned against the desk. The wound was burning. It hurt like none other he had ever had before. Which surprised him a bit, because he felt so far gone that he shouldn't have felt anything. But taking a deep breath, Shawn knew he felt the pain. It was still there, radiating from the wound.
In all honesty, Shawn hadn't expected to get a wound like this. Not at that time anyway. He had thought he was being decently careful, but it seemed as if he hadn't. And the pain had actually started before the excessive bleeding. Just didn't seem right. Not in the least.
He mumbled something to himself, not quite sure what he had said as he slid down the side of the desk to where he was sitting on the floor. His glass eyes looked around the room one last time. He was feeling cold now. And he needed to get help. The blood loss was just too much. He was suddenly no longer sitting on the floor, but laying on it. When did that happen? Shawn shook his head, trying to clear the fog, but it was no good.
He took a shaky and painful breath, calling out Gus' name. Where was trusty Gus? He wanted to see a friendly face right now. Even if he couldn't see it very well, he still needed to see it. But it is not coming into view. Oh well, Shawn couldn't stand the pain anymore. He closes his eyes and gives into darkness' embrace and takes his last brea-
"What are you doing?"
Shawn could hear the confusion and question in Gus' voice as he opened his eyes and sighed, "You just ruined my very dramatic death." He stated.
"Grow up Shawn." Gus replies with an eye roll, "It's just a paper cut."