I do not own Psych. Woe is me. Any resemblance to real people, copyrighted characters besides those from Psych, or real situations is coincidental and not intentional.

Too Late

Burton Guster frowned sleepily at the figure of his best friend, Shawn Spencer, dangling from a tree branch outside his window. The seventeen year old blinked in confusion and slid the glass up a few inches. "Shawn! What are you doing here? You know my mom doesn't like it when you hang around here..."

"Dude," Shawn grunted with the strain of holding himself up by his arms alone. "Can you just open the freakin' window already? Not that I don't appreciate your pun..."

Gus wrenched at the window with a scowl. "You know it doesn't open any farther! My mom put those little screw things in it. I told you that last week! Don't you ever listen to me?" Gus noticed Shawn's eyes glaze over when he said those words. "What's wrong?" A little worry crept into his tone.

"...It's too late..." Shawn mumbled quietly to himself. He looked up at Gus. "I-I'm leaving." Shawn whispered.

Somewhere deep inside Gus had been expecting it, waiting for the inevitable. That didn't make it hurt any less. "Where to?"

Shawn avoided Gus' eyes. "Somewhere he won't find me."

Gus felt like he couldn't breathe. Something had happened. Something was always happening with the Spencer's. "Can't I do something?" Gus pleaded with his best friend.

Shawn just smiled, slowly and sadly. "It's too late for that. Besides, I'll be back."

Gus knew he should say something, tell Shawn that he could tell he was lying, could always tell, but his lips refused to move.

"Bye, Gus." And Shawn let go. He was gone. And he had lied. Gus knew it was because of him. Shawn didn't want Gus to come with him, to give up the life he had for Shawn. Stupid best friend should have known there was no way Gus would take this one sitting down. He couldn't stop Shawn, not yet, but he could follow him. He snuck - sneaked? Shawn would say he'd heard it both ways - down the stairs in full on jackal mode, wincing when the front door creaked. Outside he saw his mom's car, her shiny new Toyota, and smiled. She always kept the keys with her but he had learned a thing or two from Henry Spencer. And his mom thought Shawn was a bad influence... He would find Shawn, because even though Shawn needed to go, Gus couldn't let him leave just yet. He wouldn't-couldn't- believe it was too late. Besides, Shawn still hadn't told him what had happened to his favorite Airwolf windbreaker.

Two weeks later Gus stood in front of the class making his valedictorian speech wishing that it was Shawn instead of him. For three days Gus had searched for his best friend and all he had found were the notes. Everywhere he looked Shawn had left something for him, from fashion advice to Sydney Lauter's phone number. And that was nice. Really nice, he thought as he caught a glimpse of Sydney in her graduation dress, but that wasn't the one thing he wanted. He wanted Shawn back. He wanted to know that there was always someone there to throw him a fist bump and feed him the punch line, someone to take his boring life and give him something fun (and slightly dangerous) to do. But Shawn had left and it was too late now. Those words burned in his memory and he found himself folding his speech back up and tucking it away. The nervous butterflies in his stomach were finally gone, and his mouth was moving with words that he could imagine hearing in a different voice, accompanied with an impish smile.

"High school is finally over, thank God! No more Mr. Diminsky yelling out us to 'find the symbolism.' Now we are free and ready for college, or a road trip, or in the football team's case, getting paid insane amounts of money to throw around a stuffed piece of pig skin and get permanent brain damage that won't actually be a very noticeable difference. Yeah we're graduating and moving on to a new chapter in our lives, but Karen Peterson is and always will be easy, James McGregor will probably never come out of the closet, and Principal McNackey will never admit that she's got a thing for Mr. Modker. The new incoming seniors will still crack jokes about the Bacardi the guidance counselor hides in her desk and thinks no one knows about, and everyone will be to afraid of Jenny Smith's father to tell her to shut up because she really can't sing." Somewhere in the crowd a grumbling sound started and began to spread. "We'll never forget these days. When the jocks are old and have beer belly's they'll reminisce about the glory days. George Small will still be in counseling when he's a multi-million dollar name in technology. I will go to college, try to muster up the nerve to call Sydney Lauter only to get turned down and end up in med school with a pretty co-ed, and life will go on. So take a minute to revel in what you have before its too late. Start living life to the fullest because if you don't, you won't see the chances you had until it's too late. You'll be the guidance counselor with the job she hates burying her life in the bottle, or the teacher so busy finding meaning in his books that he loses the meaning in his own life. You'll be the principal so scared of getting turned down that you never have a chance. You'll be the nerdy kid who ends up on top of the world and still believes that bully's were right when they told him he was inadequate. So now we are graduating and getting a new chance, so go for it before it's too late..."

Suddenly realizing what he was saying, Gus stepped off the podium and rushed down and away from the crowd now in an uproar. He didn't realize that anyone was behind him until a hand gripped his shoulder. He barely suppressed a shriek and turned around.

"Sydney?"

Her full lips turned up in a half-smile. "You should take your own advice and ask instead of just assuming you'd get turned down."

Underneath an oak tree the man with the incredible hair smiled behind his binoculars as the two began to kiss. Realizing his lip-reading abilities were no longer necessary, his slipped the binoculars with the National Geographic logo into his pocket and revved the engine of his beloved Norton.

The next day Gus sat in his room, knowing he should pack but also all to aware that he would have plenty of time since he was grounded until he left for college or the Apocalypse came. With a sigh, he glanced out the window, only to notice a small fluttering object stuck to it. Sliding it open a few inches, he reached out and grabbed the piece of paper. Glancing at it, he realized it was a post card from Las Vegas. He turned it around and read the message.

Hey Dude,

I hope it's not too late for me to say I'm sorry. After all, I lied. I do know what happened to your Airwolf windbreaker. Anyways, have fun at college with your pretty co-eds. I'll drop you a line if that's okay.

-Shawn

P.S. If anyone comes asking about me or Yosemite Yellowstone, tell them I ran off to become a Chippendales dancer in Reno and you haven't heard from me since. And if they ask, I used to be the ambassador from Kazakhstan before I found my true calling as a door-to-door mustache and sideburns salesman.