I DO NOT OWN PSYCH OR THE CHARACTERS

It was amazing what two days could do, sure he'd been on these medications for about two weeks but the changes were sudden. He felt...normal. Well, kind of anyway. Waking up hadn't been as much of a chore as it had been, and for the first time in a long time he wished the day wouldn't end. Who needs sleep when there's movies to watch and people to watch them with?

Of course, there was the occasional crash during the day, where his darker thoughts crawled out of their cage to revisit him, but not for long. It was so much easier to shove them back. So, the cage may not have a strong lock, but his strength to fight was returning. It felt fantastic. Dr. T seemed to be just as enthusiastic about the new improvements, enough to move him to a better level. Now he didn't have to worry about nurses poking their noses in his room every hour.

Shawn stretched his arms above his head and let out a long yawn. Taking in the brighter side to the road to recovery was great and all, but still being stuck in this place wasn't.

"Do you have anything to add, Shawn?"

Confused eyes met the female therapist's and then wandered around over the rest of the members of the group. Wait, what? Dammit, what were they even talking about? Medication? No. Problem solving? Again...no. Family and friends!

"Not really," Shawn replied smoothly. Minus the slight pause as he thought, he felt his response time was pretty damn good.

"But, I remember you telling us about the relationship you have with your father. It sounded shaky. It might help to talk about it more. We're here to give feedback, not to judge, and nothing leaves this circle." She stared at him expectantly with her hands neatly folded in her lap, while the rest of the group attempted to mask their disinterest. Tapping feet, wandering eyes, and one excusing themselves to the bathroom gave it away. He would just be another person rambling on about his problems.

An uneasiness crept up from his chest as his demons slithered their way back to the front of his mind. His thoughts raced at just the mention of his dad.

"C'mon, you can do better than that!"

"You really screwed up this time, kid."

Shawn swallowed thickly. "We're fine," he answered with a wry smile. His finger came to rest at his temple. "Besides, I'm sensing that Tim has a lot on his mind."

"It's true!" Tim exclaimed, wiggling in his seat impatiently. "My douchebag of a brother visited yesterday!"

"See!" Shawn pointed excitedly. He could feel his heartbeat attempt to slow down and his chest loosen up. "Come on, Tim! Lay it on us!"

While Shawn was enthusiastic at the turn of events, the therapist didn't seem as delighted. Her lips twisted into a disgruntled frown, and her concerned stare pierced his heart like an arrow. God, this place suuuucked.

"I need to take a leak," Shawn announced quickly. He bolted up onto his feet, maneuvered around the disgusted faces of his peers, and jerked the door open to his shared room. One word. Just that one word had sent him reeling backwards again.

Family.

A snarl filled the room, and the old stuffed toy his father had brought him hit the wall with a soft thud. Shawn's outstretched hand curled into a fist. A fire burned in his chest. It was a familiar sensation, and yet somewhat different from the usual frustration he felt towards his dad.

"Why don't you run away just like you usually do when things get too hard then, Shawn?"

"This time you hit the exacta on the disappointment meter, kid."

By the time his mind calmed, Mr. Bangles was no more. Cotton littered the floor. A tiny stuffed arm lay pathetically near the door, the head was nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the corpse had been scattered upon Shawn's bed.

Not surprisingly, the burn in his chest remained. Falling to lay back on his bed, Shawn stared up at the plain white ceiling, his breath heavy.

Well, there went his day.

"A trigger."

"A trigger?" Shawn asked. His brows pinched together as he stared at his doctor. "What, like a gun?"

"Sort of," his doctor responded. He spun around slightly in his wheeled chair to face Shawn properly. For a moment he scanned Shawn, attempting to read him before continuing his explanation. "You could consider the subject the group was discussing as the gun, and it was set off because your relationship with your family obviously has a deep connection to what's been going on."

"Oh come on! That has nothing to do with my Hulk moment yesterday." Shawn shifted uncomfortably in his seat and gripped the pillow in his lap tightly. "Dr. X could come up with a better theory than that! Where is he? I want him instead!"

Thatcher let out a long breath and ran a hand down his face. "Professor Xavier is a fictional character from a fictional universe."

"No way!" Shawn protested, wagging a finger at the man. "You take that back, right now! Dr. X, is the man! Who else do you know that can read and control people's minds?"

"No one, because those abilities haven't been proven to exist."

"Do too!" Shawn argued.

"Do not!" The doctor snapped back. Thatcher blinked, and then cleared his throat. Smoothing his white jacket, he attempted to somehow regain his dignity. "Look, Shawn, as much as we would like to believe that things like telepathy and shape shifting are real, they are not. And, as much as you would like to believe Professor X is a licensed doctor, he is not."

"Someone ate a bad pineapple this morning," Shawn grumbled under his breath.

"Despite yesterday's minor episode, your release date can stay the same. Unless your condition changes," the doctor stated, ignoring his patient's rude commentary. "You're still leaving Thursday at 1pm and your medications will stay as they are. Do you have someone to pick you up?"

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, Gus."

"I remember you mentioning that name before...isn't he your friend?" Shawn opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut off. "We prefer it be family members."

"He's adopted. His full name is Burton Guster Spencer," Shawn answered smoothly with a smile. Technically it was kind of true...Gus would always be like a brother to him, and his dad treated him like almost like he was his own anyway. "My best friend, and my brother all in one. You can even ask my dad."

"No, no, that's fine," Thatcher said, waving Shawn's suggestion off. "Just remind him that it's Thursday at 1. If he doesn't pick you up then there may be some issues."

"Gus'll be on time, he always is."

Short and to the point. I may combine this chapter with the last...just a heads up. But, anyway~ I'm noticing that if I want to finish this fic it may have to be that way for a bit, because at least then I'm getting something out there. Hopefully this is better than the last chapter...well maybe not. At least things are starting to move though. Shawn will be out of the hospital next chapter and being forced to face his problems.

Thank you everyone who has reviewed, they make me want to update and the theories are interesting to read. Let me know what you thought please! It's appreciated!