A/N: Here is the sequel (OMGWTFBBQ?!) or at least the prologue. I can't guarantee that it'll get updated a lot due to the insanity that is my current semester but my goal is to finish it by June. And no, I have no idea when the next chapters will get posted. But . . . this is gonna be extremely long.

Enjoy for now!

(Also, Of Psychics and FBI Profilers is nominated for Best Mystery, SBPD, and the Back to the Future awards on Psychfic. Y'all should vote. Voting closes March 6th.)


"Armageddon is almost upon us."
"I got news for you - it's already here..."
"But your souls are in danger."
"Our lives are in danger, you beatnik."

- "Clue"


Somewhere that certainly ISN'T Santa Barbara, 2014

Shawn Spencer was relieved when his mouth worked, allowing him to emit a low groan. He had been lying in the same position for over, by his guess, a whole day, and as feeling started to return to his muscles he found himself slowly moving, first to his arms and then his knees.

He didn't remember much of the trip. He had ended up falling asleep every so often only to be woken back up by his father's struggling next to him. For some reason, they hadn't drugged him like they had Shawn; only knocked him out long enough to get him secured in whatever vehicular apparatus they had found themselves in, which for a long while was a helicopter. A helicopter. Then, Shawn remembered being dragged out and into this room, where he was tossed face-down on the floor and had remained, alone, for over an hour.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't for a whole day. But it'd be a pretty damn long time.

Shawn blinked and looked around the room. It was simple enough, about the size of a closet. A door was illuminated by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Shawn pulled himself up on the wall.

"Door," he muttered, forcing his still-numb legs to move forward. As he reached for the handle, a voice sounded behind him.

"Shawn Spencer."

He spun, forgetting his weakened status, and collapsed. A screen had lit up on the back wall of the closet. "What? Where am I?"

"Welcome to the Mansion," the dark figure on the screen said. Definitely female. "You have been brought here to face a test."

"Great. I love tests." Shawn pulled himself up by the doorknob, scanning the figure on the screen for any sort of recognizable feature. "Where's my dad? What have you done with him?"

The figure chuckled. "Patience, Mr. Spencer. All we be explained. Your father is in a room very similar to this, as are the other members of your team. It is your first task to find them."

"My team?" Shawn shook his head as if to clear his mind from the fog it was finding itself in. "Wait – Gus?! What did you do to Gus?!"

"All will be explained," she said again. "You will find your door unlocked now. There is a key on the floor outside that will unlock your team members' doors. They are scattered throughout the Mansion. Once you have found them, you will receive further instruction. Good luck, Mr. Spencer."

"Okay, look. Maybe we got off on the wrong –" The image vanished, and Shawn sighed. "Or not. Okay. Gotta find Gus and dad. Dad and Gus. Hopefully one of them has food. Or water. Or something." Shawn pushed open the door and staggered out into a hallway spanning shooting off to his right. With a grimace and a newfound appreciation for walls, he staggered off towards the end of the hallway, but stopped when a door closed behind him. He turned, only to see someone he'd never thought he'd see again.

"Shawn Spencer?"

"Agent/Doctor Spencer Reid?"