I'm sure this idea has been done to death, but I couldn't help writing it :)
Shawn knew something was up when his dad picked him up from school. Usually, he just walked home with Gus, his dad still at work when his school day ended. Henry Spencer rarely took a day off, so Shawn couldn't help feeling a tad worried. Did something happen to his mother? To Uncle Jack?
"Hi Dad," he said carefully as he got into his father's truck.
"Hey Shawn," Henry replied smiling. If he was smiling, then nothing terrible had happened. Maybe his parents were finally going to get Shawn a dog. Or adopt Gus so he could live with them permanently. Shawn had asked sixteen times, and he was sure Mr. and Mrs. Guster wouldn't mind.
Shawn opened his mouth, ready to ask his dad if he was going to get either of those things, but was surprised when Henry tossed him a tie. "Aw, Dad, not this again," Shawn whined remembering the last time his father tied a tie around his eyes. His perfectly good essay (that Gus spent over an hour on) had been thrown in the garbage.
"Tie the tie over your eyes, Shawn," Henry spoke over his son. Grumbling, Shawn did as he was told, just as Henry pulled up to their house. "Okay," his father continued and Shawn heard him put the truck into park. "I'm going to help you down."
The driver side door opened and closed. Shawn waited a beat before he felt his door open, the California breeze tickling his bare arm. His father helped him down, keeping a grip on him until he was settled, and then said, "Okay, now I want you to use your other senses to find your way to the front door."
"Dad," Shawn protested rolling his eyes.
"Shawn, just do it."
He rolled his eyes again, but automatically put his right hand to his head. He thought a moment, letting his mind conjure a clear picture of the yard. Why use his other senses when he could remember exactly what the yard looked like?
Once he was certain he had the yard just right, he started walking. One step, two steps, three steps, maneuvering around the picnic table, four steps, five…
He tripped, landing painfully on the ground. He tore the blind fold off, seeing that he had tripped over his old tricycle. Why his parents never threw it out was beyond him.
"That's not fair," he snapped scrambling to his feet.
"I told you to use your other senses not your memory," Henry snapped back. "You can't always rely on your eyes, Shawn."
"This is stupid," Shawn spat throwing the tie on the ground. "How is making me trip over my old bike helping me become a better cop? Ugh, why can't you just tell cheesy jokes and embarrassing stories like normal dads?" And he stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him.
Shawn could hear Gus grumbling behind him, but ignored his friend as he lurked behind the police cars. Lassiter didn't want him there, it wasn't hard to read Lassie, but how could Shawn miss this? Someone had been killed in a clown car. Or, as Gus called it, an eco car (Shawn had totally heard it both ways).
"I mean, seriously Gus, think about it? Was the clown happy? Was it sad? Did he make Bozo mad or maybe Ronald McDonald is after him."
"Shawn, we should not be here," Gus hissed following close behind him. "Besides, didn't I tell you it's a…"
"We have to get on this case," Spencer muttered, ignoring his friend, ducking under the yellow tape. He noticed Lassiter talking to McNab while Jules checked over the crime scene with a CSI guy. Shawn quickly let his eyes scan the area, trying to take in as much stuff as he could so his 'vision' would get him on the case.
The guy behind the wheel wasn't a clown, something that disappointed Shawn greatly, but a forty-something, graying brunette. He had been shot, in the chest, through the windshield, at point blank range. Foot prints suggested the killer had run off to the north. He was clutching something in his fist, Shawn could see the paper between his fingers, but was fairly certain Jules and Lassie missed it. At first glance, it looked just like he had died with a laxed fist, and neither had Henry Spencer as a father. So, Shawn didn't blame them for missing it.
"Oh my God!" he shouted and Lassiter, Jules, the CSI guy, and McNab looked his way.
"Oh for the love of…" Lassie muttered and stalked towards Shawn. "Go away, Spencer."
"I see, I see…" Shawn put his hand to the side of his head. He picked his other hand up and started shaking it, walking towards the car. "Something...Something…
"But isn't that just flesh?" he muttered to himself. "Oh, I apologize." He looked at the body again and pointed at his hand. "Check his hand, Jules! Check his hand!"
She grabbed the guy's hand, reveling nothing, and Lassiter flashed Shawn a triumphant look. Shawn shook his head and said, "Not that one. And yes, spirits, that was too uncalled for."
"What did they say?" Juliet asked curiously.
"Oh for Pete's sake," Lassiter snapped stalking forward and snatching the other hand up. He opened the man's fist, taking out the crumpled piece of paper. He pulled it free, unfolding it to reveal a valet ticket from a restaurant a few blocks away.
"Thank you spirits," Shawn said quietly. He waited a beat and muttered, "No, you're the best." he was quiet another few seconds. "No you are." Again he waited and then, "Oh, okay, if you insist."
"Spencer," Lassie growled.
"Shawn," Gus hissed.
"Can I be on this case?" Shawn asked ignoring both his friend and the head detective.
"Go away, Spencer," Lassiter repeated stalking back to McNab.
"I found a lead! An actual lead!" When Lassiter ignored him, Shawn pulled his phone from his pocket and said, "Fine, Lassifrass, I'll just call my dad!" Still, Carlton didn't say anything, though Shawn did notice his shoulders tense slightly. "Okay!" He scrolled through his contacts, hitting send on his father's cell phone. "And when I get on the case," he started, the phone ringing, barely noticing how hot it felt against his hand, "I'm going to do the 'Shawn is on the case despite what Lassie said' dance!
"Yep, definitely going to do that dance!" Shawn shouted as the phone rang a second time.
"Uh, Shawn," he heard Gus say, but he ignored his friend.
"And it'll go like this!" He started thrusting his body, waving his free hand in the air, and spinning in a circle. "And they'll be a song! It'll be 'Lassie can't stop me from getting on the case, yeah. Lassie can't stop me from…"
"Shawn!" he heard Gus and Jules shout together.
"Guys I'm just messing with…" he heard a faint pop. Pain unlike anything he had ever felt spread across his face and eyes and everything went black.
Gus had noticed Shawn's phone had started smoking, had tried to warn his friend before anything bad happened, but the faux-psychic had been too busy bugging Lassiter to really pay attention. And now he was down on the ground, letting out cries of pain, his phone lying next to him in pieces.
"Lassiter call an ambulance," Juliet called over her shoulder as she and Gus rushed to Shawn's side.
"Shawn? Shawn, are you okay?" Gus asked his friend's hands covering his face. "Let me see, Shawn. Come on."
"Ah, Gus, it hurts," Shawn muttered his breath hitching.
"Let me see," Gus repeated and pried Shawn's hands away. The skin around his face was red and his eyes were squeezed shut. Burton let his eyes settle on the phone again, his eyebrows furrowing, and hurriedly he got to his feet.
"Gus?" Jules looked up at him, fear and worry etched across her face.
"I need water bottles," he said rushing towards his car. He knew Shawn had had one despite Gus telling him no more eating or drinking in the Blueberry. He found it under Shawn's seat, probably the worst hiding place ever, and ran back towards his friend.
Lassiter joined them a few seconds later, holding another water bottle. He handed it to Gus saying, "Ambulance is on its way." Burton could tell the cop was worried, but any traces of his true feelings were gone from his face.
"Okay, Shawn, I'm going to need you to open your eyes," Gus said softly trying to staunch his own panic. The longer they waited, Shawn's chances of seeing became less and less.
"I can't," Shawn whispered sounding more scared than Gus had ever heard him. This was the same guy who broke his leg in high school, after he was dared to jump from Missy Stinson's roof to her pool-while completely sober-and afterwards tried to convince Gus he didn't need a hospital. He was the same guy who crashed his bike into tree, the summer after he turned thirteen, and had managed to walk three blocks home with a concussion. Shawn Spencer didn't panic, at least not openly. Gus wasn't used to this.
"Come on, Shawn. For me." Gus waited a beat, and Shawn finally managed to peel his eyes open. Once they were open wide enough, Gus unscrewed one of the water bottles and poured water into Shawn's eyes. Instinctually, the faux-psychic closed them.
"No, Shawn, open them again," Gus demanded and his friend slowly did as he was told. Gus poured more water into his eyes, trying to ignore how weird it felt to have Shawn Spencer actually listen to him.
He continued to clean out his friend's eyes until the ambulance showed up. The EMTs took over for him, and they put Shawn on a gurney and pushed him towards the waiting bus. Gus made to follow, but one of the EMTs stopped him and said, "Sorry, sir, but unless you're family..."
"But he's my…"
"You can follow us," she said and hopped into the back, closing the doors behind her.
"Uh, call Mr. Spencer!" Gus called over his shoulder rushing towards his car.
"O'Hara!" he heard Lassiter shout and was soon joined by Juliet.
"We're about to hand the crime scene over to CSI," Jules informed Gus. He nodded, getting into the driver side.
"Meet us there, Carlton!" she informed her partner before sliding into the passenger side. Gus started the Blueberry, put it in drive, and followed the ambulance away from the crime scene.
Henry burst into the hospital's waiting room, spotting Jules and Gus sitting opposite each other. Both weren't talking, the worry on each of their faces rivaling the other. He moved across the room, sitting next to Gus.
"What happened?" he demanded looking between the two. "Lassiter said something about Shawn's phone exploding."
"I didn't think it was possible…" Gus muttered looking down at his hands. "It just doesn't seem possible."
"His phone actually exploded?" Henry had been skeptical when Lassiter told him, figuring the cop had finally done what he had threatened to do the past six years. "Well, where is he?"
Before either could respond, Lassiter showed up. He sat down next to Juliet, let his blue eyes scan the faces of each person, and asked, "Have we learned anything?" They shook their heads in reply.
"His doctor has to be around here somewhere," Henry stated pushing himself to his feet. He wanted to know what was going on with his son, and he wanted to know now. He started to leave the waiting area, but stopped when he spotted a doctor walking towards them.
"Are you all here for Shawn Spencer?" he asked when he was in hearing range.
"Yeah, how's my son?" Henry questioned sensing the others gathering behind him.
"As of right now he can't see," the doctor replied softly. "I'm sure it's just temporary, and had Mr. Guster not acted it could have been a lot worse, but I still need to run some tests to be sure. Best case, he'll vision will return with time."
"And worst case?" Henry questioned already knowing the answer.
"He could need surgery to fix the damage and if that doesn't work…" the doctor trailed off, but they filled in the silence themselves. There was a chance Shawn could never see again.
Okay, I shouldn't be publishing this, but I wanted to get back into writing for Psych. So, consider this an experiment. If I get enough interest I'll continue and if not... Well, I can always go back to the drawing board.
So, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I own nothing.
P.S. What happened to Shawn is probably not one-hundred percent possible, but I wanted it to happen in an unusual way. And he's always on that phone.