Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or any of it's characters.

Prologue

1986

Detective Henry Spencer awoke to the terrified scream of his 9 year old son, "Shawn!" Reaching for his firearm out of habit, and flinging the cover over the left side of the bed (where his wife Madeleine should have been sleeping), he hurried out of his room and towards his sons.

When he reached his sons bedroom, he realised that the handgun might be a bit much, but he kept his finger poised on the trigger regardless. When he opened the door and switched on the light, he found his son sitting in a fetal position on his bed, with his cover wrapped around him, shaking, crying and coughing.

"Shawn?" Henry asked softly, taking his finger off the trigger, and putting it down out of Shawn's reach, as it was obvious he'd just had a nightmare. Sitting next to the frightened little boy, he noticed how flushed and sweaty his son looked, and lifted him on to his knee, "What happened?"

"Mr Cookson jumped out of my toy-box and was strangling me," He sobbed, burying his head into his fathers chest; Henry couldn't help but notice how warm his son felt, "and now my throat and head really hurts."

Henry felt Shawn's head, "You're burning up," He sighed, "wait here a second." He left the room, returning promptly with a thermometer and putting it in to his sons mouth. After a few minutes he took it out and looked at it, "103.4...looks like you caught Gus' Flu kiddo."

Present

A low groan escaped Shawn Spencer's lips, his body ached something rotten, and he felt hot...so hot, like he was stuck inside a blazing furnace. All he wanted was to drop back in to the fitful slumber he'd been rudely dragged from; but it was no use, the disturbance was still...disturbing him, and now he was stuck somewhere between asleep and awake.

Cracking open one watery eye, Shawn saw a flash of lightning bounce off the wall, that did nothing to ease his banging head, which at that moment felt as though it was occupied by a very loud and out-of-tune brass band, surely they could have picked a better place to rehearse. He quickly closed his eye, giggling feverishly at the coloured dots that had formed because of his sudden swap from light to dark. Not only could he hear/feel the brass band, now he could also see it too; little colourful people, playing their tiny instruments...they were so adorable, he just wanted to throw miniature coins at them to show how much he enjoyed...

Some sort of loud sound interrupted his entertainment; sitting up sluggishly and grimacing as every joint and muscle in his body protested, the fake psychic allowed his burning eyes to rest groggily on the 'Psych' window. Outside it was dark, too dark in fact (someone really needed to fix that street light), droplets of rain ran fiercely down the glass...Santa Barbara was obviously in the middle of a storm.

Just as he started to close his tired eyes another flash of lightning lit up the room, a females face pressed up harshly against the window, her eyes wide with fear. 'Help me', she mouthed. Shawn shut his eyes tight, as an intense pain tore through them, he really did feel horrible. One minute he was feeling hot and sweaty, the next he was shivering from the chills, he had the worst headache, his throat hurt, his...Wait, a girls face? His eyes shot open. Nothing.

Had he just imagined it? Was the storm playing tricks on his already fevered mind? Shawn wanted to get up, but his unusually heavy body wouldn't let him. Instead he fell in to a coughing fit, his whole body recoiling from the painful hacking. More loud, annoying thunder came, and he could have sworn he heard a higher pitched sound in the midst of it.

Not even his curiosity was a match for the exhaustion he was feeling right now, and he found himself dropping back off to...Another flash of light, and a shining object caught his eye; blinking desperately in a bid to 'unblur' his vision, Shawn's eyes focused on the offending object. It was a knife. Murder...She was being murdered!

Shawn knew he had to get up, had to help her, but once again his body disobeyed. He was tired...So damn tired, and unbearably hot, he was sure his whole body was on fire. His eyes felt so heavy, and try as he might, he couldn't stop them from closing...

Another flash of lightning got his attention, and he prised his eyes open, although he instantly wished he hadn't. Shawn's body tensed as he looked through the window, straight in to cold, merciless eyes. He shivered involuntarily, despite the heat, because in that flash of light, the man, who Shawn could only describe has being, 'monstrous looking', pointed at Shawn with one hand, and slid the knife in front of his throat with the other.

He'd seen Shawn, and more importantly, he knew Shawn had seen him.

The whole place went dark again, and Shawn felt as though his heart was going to jump out and start tap-dancing on his chest. He sat motionlessly, staring out of the window, waiting for the next lightning strike to hit. When it did, the 'monstrous looking' killer was no where to be seen.

This time he needed to get up, he was determined to get up, he...would just rest his eyes briefly...

His eyes shot open...Why's it suddenly so much lighter outside? He shook his head, that didn't matter, right now the most important thing was reporting the brutal murder he'd just witnessed to the Santa Barbara Police Department.

For once Shawn's dramatic entrance in to the Santa Barbara Police Department wasn't merely a bid to draw attention to himself. If it wasn't for the fact that almost everybody in the SBPD were so accustomed to Shawn Spencer falling and flailing around, they may have regarded his unsteady movements as concerning.

"What do you see?" Officer Buzz McNab kept his voice low, as though the details of the psychic vision Shawn was obviously having were highly classified.

"Dead People..."

McNab stared after the 'psychic' uneasily, as he made his way over to Detective's Carlton 'Lassie' Lassiter and Juliet 'Jules' O'Hara.

"Shawn!" Juliet stood up in surprise, taking in his more-so-than-usual-dishevelled-look, flushed face and shivering form, "What are...?"

"I tried to stop it..." He slurred feverishly, slumping down on to one of the chairs in front of Juliet's desk.

She looked at him in confusion, "Stop what?"

"She's dead."

"Spencer what the hell are you talking about?" Lassiter demanded, although his voice contained far less bite than usual; the younger man seemed genuinely distressed, "You're not making any sense."

Juliet walked round her desk and crouched down next to him, "Shawn, are you feeling alright?" She asked with concern, she'd never seen him in such a state before, he seemed totally out of it, and upon closer inspection, she realised he really didn't look too good. Putting a hand to his forehead she frowned and looked up at her partner, "He's burning up."

"We gotta get to Psych Office, he murdered her!"

"Oh great, so not only is he here spreading his germs around, he's also ranting at us deliriously." Lassiter backed up slightly, not wanted to catch whatever illness the 'psychic' had.

"Shawn, what's going on?" His best friend, Burton 'Gus' Guster panted as he rushed towards them, "The way you sounded on the phone, scared me half to death."

"What's going on out here?" Police Chief Karen Vick demanded as she exited her office.

"She was murdered, right outside our window Gus!"

"Who was murdered?" The Chief really wasn't in the mood for any of Shawn Spencer's eccentrics today.

"No one...He's delirious," Lassiter answered, screwing up his nose, "with some sort of contagious disease no doubt, that's probably spread it's way through the whole Police Department by now." He turned to his 'nemesis', "If my 100% attendance for this year gets ruined because of you Spencer, I swear I'll..."

"Detective Lassiter!" Chief Vick stopped him firmly, "Now will somebody help Mr Spencer home so we can get on with some actual Police business?"

All heads turned towards Gus, who was standing a fairly large distance away from his friend, with his hand covering his nose and mouth, "What?"

"OK, first of all, I'm completely un-delirious, and second of all, I'm not going anywhere until Jules and Lassie check out the murder scene."

"Fine." She agreed, afraid she might snap at any moment, "Lassiter, O'Hara, escort Mr Spencer to his office and look for any signs of a disturbance." She started to walk to her own office, "I'll be in my office if you need me," She turned back to face them once she got to her door, "and don't anybody dare need me!"

Lassiter hurried after her, "But Chief, you can't honestly believe that Spencer actually witnessed a murder..."

"Of course I don't," She seethed, "but he's refusing to leave otherwise, so unless you're suggesting we throw a sick man out on to the street, humouring him seems like the best option, wouldn't you agree Detective?"

"But..."

She gave him a scornful look.

"Yes Ma'am."

Gus and Lassiter made mad dashes for their vehicles, neither of them wanting to be the one to chaperone Shawn. Lassiter scowled when he saw Gus driving away in the Blueberry. Great, I'm stuck with the infected, He thought, all but flinging his partner in to the passenger side of his car, before getting in to the driving seat and rolling down the window as far as it would go, to ensure that any germs could escape, "Spencer, you get in the back...And don't touch anything."

Gus slowed down the Blueberry to let the others overtake him, because even though he was 99.9% sure Shawn had just been hallucinating, he still wasn't willing to take that chance; not when a crazed murderer could be lurking about.

The 'crime scene' was underwhelming to say the least; not only was it lacking a dead body, but it also exhibited no sign of a struggle whatsoever.

Juliet turned her attention to the 'psychic', when the physical part of the investigation turned out to be non-existent, "Do you see anything?"

Shawn put his hand to his head, his eyes darting around everywhere, as he tried desperately to find something that would prove he was right. Unfortunately, the only thing it achieved was making his headache even worse, "No," He sighed, putting his hand down slowly, "I think maybe being sick is blocking my connection with the spiritual side."

"Well this wasted my time as much as expected." Lassiter complained, walking over to his car, "It's gonna take me weeks to get this thing disinfected."

Juliet shot Shawn a sympathetic look, "Take it easy OK?" She glanced at Gus expectantly.

"Don't worry, I'll stay with him until his fever goes down." He assured her.

Shawn watched in disbelief as she followed Lassiter to his car, "Wait, that's it?" He trudged after them.

Juliet turned round, "Shawn, there's nothing here, what else is there for us to do?"

"Look harder."

She sighed, "I tell you what, if you'll get some sleep, I promise I'll keep a look out for anyone reporting a missing person, OK?"

He nodded and smiled half-heartedly."Thanks Jules."