Disclaimer: Let's get the straight now – I do not own Psych. K? K.

Thanks for clicking on this story! I hope you enjoy it (: Also, if you are a fan of White Collar or Leverage, you should check out some of my other stories on my page.

Psych Quote of the Day: "Is that Lassiter? What died on his face?" ~ Gus

-O-

Chapter 1

Fathers

**1990**

"Dad! Dad!" The sound of footsteps slapping on the porch accompanied the sound of Henry's son's voice, the screen door slamming as Shawn rounded the corner."Dad!"

"What, Shawn?" Henry sighed, setting down his newspaper.

"Gus is missing!"

"What?" Henry sat up at the sound of panic in his son's voice.

"We're playing hide 'n seek. I can't find him anywhere!"

Henry relaxed. He should have known that Shawn had been exaggerating. He sighed again. "Okay, Shawn. Think about this. Look around. See if anything's different than you remember it. An upturned carpet, an open door. Go back the beginning, Shawn. See if you can remember what direction he was headed when you closed your eyes."

Shawn nodded, closing his eyes. Henry watched his son, a single chuckle escaping him as his son threw open his eyes, turned, and sprinted into the other room. A moment later, shouts of "Found you!" and "Aw, you cheated!" drifted into the kitchen.

Henry chuckled again, shaking his head as he flipped open his newspaper once more.

-O-

"Shawn, for the seventeenth time, I will not stand outside of the police department dressed as a giant pineapple just to see how many people ask for a sample!" Gus glared at his friend.

Shawn and Gus had been arguing over this the whole way to their favorite breakfast restaurant. Gus had even almost run a red light as he'd turned to Shawn in annoyance. Now they took their seats on the veranda connected to the restaurant, Shawn frowning as he tried to come up with a retort.

"Why…" Shawn's voice trailed off as he caught sight of a figure exiting the restaurant. "Dude, Gus, menus!" he flicked his own menu up in front of his face.

"What? Why?"

"Gus! Shawn!"

"Dammit, Gus!" Shawn sighed, slamming his menu down on the table as his father walked over. He watched, a disgusted sneer forming on his face, as Henry said something to the woman on his arm before departing.

"Who's that?" Shawn asked.

"Who, Laura? She's just an old friend," Henry seemed surprised at Shawn's interest in the woman.

"More like an old flame," Shawn countered. "Emphasis on the old. Out to breakfast, huh? What, did she spend the night, too?"

"What is wrong with you, Shawn?" Henry was shocked at his son's suddenly aggressive behavior.

"What's wrong with me? I'm not the one gallivanting off with a woman I've never even told my son about!"

Henry sighed, glancing at Gus, who was doing his best pretending to be engrossed in the menu in front of him. "I'm not having this argument with you now, Shawn. Tell you what, come by later tonight and I'll answer all of your questions regarding 'that woman'."

Shawn scoffed. "Yeah, right, so you can dump some more of your infinite wisdom on me? Not a chance, old man."

Henry opened his mouth to reply, and closed it. He threw his arms out to his sides. "Do what you want, Shawn," he said, storming away.

"Dude, what was that about?" Gus asked as soon as Henry was out of earshot.

"I don't know, Gus," Shawn said, brushing it off. He picked up his menu. "Homemade hashbrowns?" he scoffed. "Yeah, right. I seriously doubt that… wait, homemade," he looked up, his face broadening into a wide smile. "Gus, I just solved our murder case!"

-O-

"Chief, I am sensing that our killer used custom made bullets, and that is why you could not ID the gun," Shawn was in the middle of one of his theatrical performances, his hand flying up to his temple as he flinched at nothing.

"Custom made bullets," Lassiter cut in. "Only Lance Herrera would have been capable of making those."

"Congratulations, Spencer, looks like you just found us a new suspect," Chief Vick nodded to the two partners, who were busy fist-bumping as they walked out the doors.

-O-

Dusk was falling as Shawn made his way along the back roads that led to his apartment, the roar of his motorcycle and the whistling of wind in his ears the only sounds in the still night air. The surrounding landscape blurred by him as he rounded a bend – only to find himself in front of his father's house. He hadn't meant to come here. He'd been avoiding his father all day, so why had he guided his motorcycle unintentionally to his house? He swallowed, tempted to turn back around and leave. His father wouldn't have to know he had ever been here, he could leave now and go on ignoring him.

Shawn swung the kickstand down and dismounted his bike. Dirt and gravel crunched under his feet as he made his way up to the front porch, hesitating before knocking.

There was no response. Shawn waited a moment, and knocked again. Nothing. No "Just a minute!" or "Hold your horses, Shawn!". Just the cold, complete silence. Shawn tried the door knob – it twisted and the door swung open. That was the first indication that something was amiss. Henry always locked the door when he wasn't home. This door wasn't locked.

Shawn stepped warily over the threshold. "Dad?" he called out cautiously, scanning the room. "Dad!"

His eyes fell on the far corner of the carpet. A dark shadow rested there, and as Shawn made his way over to it a feeling of dread crept up his spine.

His breath caught in his throat as he stood over the shadow. The shadow that was, upon closer inspection, a collection of dried blood splatters.

-O-

So this was really short, and not my best chapter ever, but there WAS a cliffhanger, and I promise the next chapter will be better. Reviews are loved and appreciated.