Disclaimer: I don’t own Psych, though I wish I did lol! I’m just having some fun with its characters.

Chapter 1: Now You See Him…Now You Don’t

Henry stood in the rain nervously watching as his only son came dangerously close to the river’s edge. They were both soaked and covered with mud; his clothes were undoubtedly ruined with no chance of salvation despite the rain slicker that was supposed to be helping. Shawn would probably celebrate the death of one of his father’s blindingly bold Hawaiian shirts after this was all over with anyway.

He had almost keeled over when the kid started running towards the river claiming that he could see something and the proof they needed to arrest Adrian Tompkins for the murder of 6 women over the last 7 months lay near the swelling flood waters. Before Lassiter, O’Hara, or himself could even open their mouths to protest Shawn was disappearing into the darkness.

Moments later he was blindsided and smacked in the head with a clump of uncoiling rope, before his son’s muffled shout of “Dad catch!” came following soon after. He grumbled at the late warning, but was silently thankful his son was being smart and had given them a tow line in case he might lose his footing on the already unstable ground. At least the kid still remembered some of the safety procedures he had taught him despite the fact he usually threw all caution to the wind.

Shawn was still being stupid; he should be waiting on the rest of the policemen and rescue workers to arrive on the scene. Honestly what the hell was he doing here anyway, he still didn’t know how he managed to get sucked into one his son’s investigations or what he more affectionately calls ‘shenanigans’ once again, but he had.

Just an hour before they had been collecting the body of the sixth victim, everyone was angry and discouraged that the murderer had gotten the best of them again. He could see the frustration of failure and regret reflected in his son’s eyes, before moments later he was bounding off towards his dads pick-up truck, shaking the keys in the air while shouting he had ‘divined’ something. His claims that he knew where to find the murder weapon and that it would be enough to convict their lead suspect who had been slipping through the cracks for weeks now, was enough to have Lassiter, and O’Hara following in pursuit.

After patting his jean pockets only to reveal the keys in his son’s hand were indeed his, Henry was quick to follow a few muttered curses passing through his lips.

Minutes later they were rushing towards an unknown destination in the middle of a storm leaving the rest of the SBPD to try and process the rapidly deteriorating crime scene behind them.

Now he stood there his heart constricting painfully with every slip and miss-step his son would make. Instinctively he gripped the rope that was wrapped around his older, but steady frame tighter. If Shawn was to fall over the river’s edge, he would be his lifeline, his son’s only anchor to the shore. He reminded himself to breathe once again, it was nights like these that his mind mulled over the dangers of his son’s chosen career, and what the hell was he as a father thinking when he had wanted his son to take after him. Yeah, Shawn hadn’t become a cop, but he might as well have, and one day he wondered if he’d live to regret what he’d done.

A soft muttered curse slipped past the older man’s parted lips just as the heavens began to open up and release their wrath in a heavier outpouring than before. He let his hand rise and scrub at his face growling as the current weather further distorted the view he had of his only child. He was caught unaware and unprepared when the line suddenly went rigid with a painful snap, jerking his body foreword, his feet scrambling to regain their footing. He held the rope tighter, leaning back, and pushing against his heels as he tried to back-up slowly. His face was tightly scrunched from strain, teeth painfully gritting together.

“Carlton help him!” he heard the young female detective scream, as she radioed for more back-up support.

An immense relief came with the hands that reached out of nowhere and gripped the rope tightly, taking some of the burden from him.

“We’ll get him Henry...” He heard Lassiter grit out. “…we won’t let go.” The older man nodded in reply, afraid that the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come out. Several more men had just arrived on the scene moments earlier, some of them were from the SBPD, and some were volunteers from local fire departments. Within seconds all able bodied men were taking their places along the length of the rope.

When he felt a large portion of strain release him, he took the time to crack his eyes open long enough to risk a glance, seeing Lassiter directly behind him along 5 other men clad in rain slickers and rubber boots.

The head detective gave him a curt nod before shouting orders to the men behind them. “Everybody pull!”

Sirens were echoing in the distance signaling that back-up was on its way, and detective O’Hara was positioning one of the flood lights to shine some light on the area in front of them.

Henry flicked his gaze over to the spot where he had just seen the faded silhouette of his son.  Only he wasn’t there, and the line Shawn was connected to was currently disappearing into the raging flood waters, his son’s body somewhere below the surface. He suddenly stopped breathing, he felt numb, and for moment in time he could have sworn his heart had ceased its beating.

Blinking away the rain from his lashes, he shouted to the men around him to keep pulling. Step by step they backed-up trudging and slipping in the mud. For every foot they gained the river would tug them forward two. It was a vicious battle of tug-of-war, man vs. nature, and they were losing slowly. With every passing moment his voice became more desperate as he and Lassiter both shouted their instructions.

The loud warning cry of a young officer pierced his ears, and the older man watched on in horror as a downed tree that was being tossed in the rapids quickly approached the place where his son had just broke surface and was currently struggling to stay above the rapids. All the men braced for impact and each gasped as the force of the tree jerked the line from their fingers, stripping flesh, and sending several men crashing to the ground. With the loss of support Henry was quickly pulled forward, unable to hold his ground but unwilling to give up. His teeth were grinding together almost painfully, a deep guttural groan vibrated in his throat. His sneakers slipped on the slick earth almost refusing to stay rooted beneath him. Through cracked eyelids he watched the river’s edge draw closer, and a glimmer of fear flashed in his eyes before it was quickly repressed beneath his growing determination.

“I need some more help here!” he yelled over his shoulder, praying more men would get there soon.

Lassiter’s hands were on shoulders once again. In seconds the rest of the officers and workers gathered the rope up in their tired grasps and rushed to regain their previous positions.  

It grew more and more apparent that there wasn’t enough man power, nor energy left to cease their steady descent. Acknowledging that the Civilian who was connected to the rope was minutes away from being pulled into the rapids as well, the leader who was heading over the rescue workers made the difficult call everyone else didn’t want to make. 

A young rookie firefighter appeared in front of Henry, beams of light reflecting off the blade that rested in his hand.

“No-!” The elder Spencer shouted, shooting a look of panic at the younger man. “No, we can still hold it; back up is on its way!”

Lassiter’s startled gasp along with a “Don’t do it kid.” sounded so close to his ear he could hear the tremble in the head detective’s voice.

Blue depths brimming with solemn sympathy locked with Henrys distraught brown ones for a few seconds before the contact was broken as they were jerked violently by more debris catching in the line, sending them all stumbling forward their descent now continuing all the men slowly being dragged through the mud towards the edge.

“Cut the line Anders, cut it now!”

The young man nodded his understanding, and though stumbling brought the blades edge to the underside of the rope.

“Don’t!” Henry hissed threateningly. “Don’t do it…please!”

“Anders!” the men continued to shout.

Henry could see the look that passed over the kids face clearly, it was apologetic and it was directed at him the obviously distraught Father.

“No…” he breathed hoarsely.

Anders guiltily averted his gaze to the line before him “I…I’m so sorry” he murmured, pulling the knife across the rope in one swift stroke. Almost instantly the force that had been pulling them was broken, sending all the team crashing painfully to the ground in defeat.

Henry felt as if his whole life had just collapsed with him. A loud ringing filled his ears as he tried to pull himself onto trembling legs. Foreign hands tried to assist him, tugging his arms as they attempted to guide him back towards safer ground. Angrily he pushed them away, ignoring their apologies and condolences.

He tried to get past them and race down the shoreline in pursuit of his son, but Lassiter’s strong arms held him at bay. “Mr. Spencer, Henry, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” he kept repeating the apology like it would make everything better, but the younger man’s voice sounded as hollow and defeated as he felt.

He didn’t have time for this, and in an instant his anger was mounting. The patriarch clinched his fist, his knuckles turning white as blood was refused passage. He had just been released from a burden that he didn’t wish to be freed from, and there was going to be hell to pay. Like a volcano on the verge of eruption he exploded with a surge of renewed strength.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his body twisting loose, but Lassiter’s hands quickly tried to regain their hold. ‘Consequences be damned.’ he growled angrily to himself as his balled fist and delivered a strong right hook to the Head Detectives jaw.

It was rash, but it had the desired effects. Once freed, he rushed forward gathering a gear bag and a discarded search light, and then fueled by adrenaline he disappeared into the shadows. The shouts that followed after him, were ignored, each falling upon his deaf ears. The only voice that he could hear at that moment was his own and it was screaming his son’s name.