Shawn felt his stomach sink and his heart stop as he stared at the folder Buzz was angling towards him. In that one split second, his brain kicked into overdrive and he raced down the hallway without a word. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered Buzz's voice calling out to him but he ignored it and pushed open the large Spanish-styled doors that led outside.

In his rush outside, he ran full speed into Detective Lassiter. Papers spewed out of the folder he was holding and the coffee he was drinking left a sizeable stain on his crisp blue shirt. Thankfully, he managed to grab the railing to steady himself at the last possible second.

"Spencer!" the angry man yelled as the pseudo psychic tore through the station's parking lot.

Shawn couldn't describe how glad he was when he saw Gus leaning against the Blueberry and chatting up the Department's newest forensic girl – glad because of the car, not the sugar-binge break. He'd probably be happy for his best bud later but right now he just needed the car.

Gus thumbed his nose and gave his business card to the girl just as Shawn skidded to a stop in front of him. "Keys," Shawn gasped out.

His friend dangled the keys in front of him and pulled them away when Shawn tried to grab them, "You must be out of your damn mind if you think I'm going to let you drive…"

"Give me the freaking keys already, Burton!"

Shawn's high-pitched hysterical tone and the use of Gus' full name made his partner flinch. It was in this moment that he took advantage of Gus' surprise – he grabbed the keys and shoved him aside. No sooner had he entered the car, he had pulled off the curb at a breakneck speed.

In the rearview mirror, Shawn spotted a very pissed looking Lassiter approaching a distressed Guster. A pang of guilt reminded him that he would have to apologise later. His friend was probably stuttering out his confusion right now as he answered Lassie's questions. One of which, no doubt, will be about his missing gun.

It was a spontaneous decision on Shawn's part to grab the gun when he had accidentally ran into Lassiter. Some part of him knew that he might be overreacting right now… Henry Spencer could be enjoying his lunch right now. He might even be walking down the beach with Jerry; blissfully unaware of the part his old partner had to play in this whole mess.

Right now, his gut was telling him that he needed to get to that beach-house as fast as humanly possible. Shawn's gut feelings were rarely wrong. He knew he shouldn't feel this way but the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans comforted him a little.

"Come on, come on, come on," Shawn muttered under his breath as he turned onto the beach road and pulled in next to his father's truck. He turned off the car but left the keys in the ignition just in case. He got out and was about to slam the door behind him when he saw Jerry pointing his gun at the crumpled form of his father on the ground.

"Dad!" he yelled as he scrambled over the rocks that separated the tarmac and the sand. He ran towards his father, kicking up sand as he dropped to his father's side and tried to nudge him awake. "Come on, old man. We're supposed to go out for beers later."

Jerry paled and adjusted his aim so it was now pointing at Shawn, "You're Henry's kid."

Shawn ignored him as he pulled off his flannel overshirt and bunched it up before pressing it against the exit wound on his father's back. He flipped his Dad on his back and applied pressure to the wound on his chest with his hands.

"How'd you know…?" Jerry trailed off.

Shawn ignored the question and swallowed hard. He levelled his gaze at the man – and the gun he was pointing at his head. "Hey, man. Don't make this worse for yourself. Put the gun down and walk away."

The man frowned at the young man's non-answer but didn't move to shoot. Shawn could read the confusion and various other conflicting emotions on Jerry's face. The man's tells were about as obvious as they were when Shawn cleaned him out of his spare change more than a decade ago in a game of poker.

"I never would have pegged you as a legitimate psychic," Jerry answered his own ignored question. He waved his gun at the pair, "Then again, I also thought you and Henry couldn't care less about one another."

"Is that how you tried to justify… this?" Shawn's disgusted voice got higher and higher. "I don't even know what to think anymore." He paused for a second and growled, "He trusted you; all of you. Weren't you supposed to be part—"

A cough followed by some hacking interrupted Shawn's monologue from below. "Stop talking… like I'm… already dead, kid."

Everything seemed to stop right at that moment – the sound of the waves drowned out by the sound of his Dad's voice. Sure, it sounded a bit weak but it was there and that was all that mattered. Well, at that moment in time anyway.

"It's nice of you to join us, Dad," Shawn let out his breath in relief. He half-heartedly teased his Dad, "You could never foretake – forgo? – a lecture, could you?"

"Please tell me… you called… back-up," Henry scrunched up his face in pain.

Shawn winced. If he was lucky, back-up would arrive soon in the form of Lassiter and Gus. They should have pieced everything together by now. If not, at the very least, he had one of Lassiter's guns on him.

He looked up at Jerry who was shifting about impatiently and looking in the direction of his father's truck and Gus's blueberry. Shawn inferred that he was looking out for the so-called back-up. Suddenly, he realised that this meant that Jerry was momentarily distracted – that, and leaving the keys in the Blueberry was a stupid move on his part.

His hand moved behind him towards Lassiter's gun and wrapped around the handle tightly. The click of the safety being turned off will alert the other man to his weapon so Shawn steeled himself to shoot quickly.

So that's exactly what he did.