A/N: Hey guys! I took a major hiatus to get my act back together, haha. Hope nobody minds. This is my first Psych fanfic I've published. It is indeed a songfic. I don't write many of these, so sorry if it's total crap. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the song, You Found Me by The Fray. I do not own the characters mentioned, either. I wish I did, but I don't. Maybe I could get them as a late birthday present. Who knows.

You Found Me

Shawn was late getting home. Gus had decided to go for some jerk chicken, not that he had anything wrong with that. They reached Juliet's house about 45 minutes later than what time Shawn promised he'd be home. After snagging some mints from Gus's glove box, Shawn left the Blueberry and shut the door. Strolling with as much serenity as he could muster, he prayed that Jules wouldn't be mad at him. The couch didn't seem like the comfiest place to sleep tonight.

He was halfway up the walkway when he realized the lights were out. 'That's weird,' Shawn thought, but quickly dismissed it. Maybe Jules had something romantic planned. A candlelit dinner? Shawn could always eat more. And not even jerk chicken could fill him up enough to refuse some of Juliet's cooking. He got to the door and quietly opened it. No flickering firelight danced on the walls. There was no delicious smell of home-cooked food. The house was eerily silent.

Shawn was immediately alert. The whole house just didn't feel RIGHT. He wished, at that moment, he had something to arm himself with. So he grabbed the nearest potted plant and began to stalk around the house, listening for any movement. Nothing. It was so quiet, the silence was deafening. Shawn began to search the rooms. The living room was empty, same as the dining room and the kitchen. He made his way to the bathroom. What he saw there was so startling he dropped the plant. The terracotta pot shattered on the slick tile floor, the dirt scattering in all directions. He didn't even care; his eyes were fixed on one thing in the room.

Juliet was on the floor. Her hair was fanned around her flawless face, spread out like a blonde floor mat. Her azure eyes were fixed on the ceiling; the once lively, bright orbs now dull spheres. Her skin was so pale it was near translucent. Those perfect, lush lips of hers were already turning blue. Shawn didn't even worry to check for a pulse. She was dead. His Jules was dead.

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me.

Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded.

Why'd you have to wait?

Where were you? Where were you?

Just a little late

You found me, you found me

Shawn staggered to his cellphone, which he had forgotten at home this morning. He dialed the first number that came to his mind. After a few obnoxious rings that he barely heard, his father's voice broke through the numbness. "Hello?" he asked gruffly.

"Dad, it's Shawn," the younger Spencer whispered in a voice so faint it sounded as if it could just crack and crumble at any moment.

"Shawn! What's wrong?" Mr. Spencer asked, alarmed.

"Jules is dead. She's dead, and I wasn't here." On the last word, Shawn began to cry. Tears streamed down his face, leaving crystalline track marks down his cheeks.

"What? Shawn, she's DEAD? Are you sure?"

"Yes Dad! I'm pretty sure I would be able to tell if my girlfriend is dead or not!" he snapped, before sobbing, "I don't know what to do!"

"Shawn, did you call the police?" Mr. Spencer questioned softly.

"No. You're the first person I called. I just found-" Shawn's voice broke, so he let his sentence trail off rather than attempt to finish a sentence he never wanted to speak aloud.

"Okay, son. I'm going to call the police. Don't do anything, don't touch anything. Okay?"

"Okay." Shawn choked back more sobs.

"And, kid, remember that I love you."

These words broke the dam completely within Shawn. Instead of stuttering a reply through his tears, he just hung up. He couldn't go back into that bathroom. He couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe if he had been quicker to come home, Juliet would still be here. She would've been in his arms as they watched the fire in the fireplace quickly devour logs. She would've been his wife, his dream come true, the one who had claimed his heart. She would've been the mother of his children, and they would've grown old together. They could've been one of those old married couples that died holding the other's hand, or maybe in their shared bed. But now? Now Juliet couldn't be in his arms, or his wife, or the mother of his children. They couldn't grow old together. They couldn't spend one more day together. They couldn't spend one more night together, just blissfully sleeping beside each other. No, now Juliet was to sleep eternally underground, in a casket. He was just here to think about the ifs. If Juliet was still alive, if Juliet had been his wife, if she had had his children. In his ear, he could almost hear her whisper in his ear, in a breathy, broken whisper, "Why'd you have to wait?"