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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey all! I am very excited to debut my first multichapter Psych fic. I don't really know where this idea came from, I just know I'm quite proud of it. I know it's weird, but hey, we all watch Psych; we can take weird.

This is set between "Nip and Suck It!" and "No Trout About It," the latter of which is the season 7 finale. You'll not come across anything more questionable than what's in the show normally—or at least until later chapters, which might get slightly disturbing, but if you watch Psych (which, seeing as you're here, I'm guessing you do), you should be able to handle it.

By the way, I don't own Psych and this fic is earning me no money. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. You probably skimmed that or skipped it entirely. I understand.
When Shawn doesn't show up for breakfast, Gus doesn't even think past being irritated. He calls Shawn's phone twenty minutes after the time they were supposed to meet, and leaves an annoyed message. And another half hour later, he leaves a second message, doubly annoyed, and leaves. He thinks, He probably stayed up too late playing video games and is now sleeping in, and that's that. He goes back home for a bit, and then to his real job.

He arrives later at his apartment expecting to be greeted by a new message on his landline from Shawn, giving some elaborate explanation of questionable plausibility as to why he didn't make it to breakfast. But there is no such message (well, not one from that day, anyway).

Gus finds this a bit peculiar. So he tries Shawn's cell phone again. It goes straight to voicemail just like before.

Slightly worried, Gus hops into his beloved Echo and heads for the Psych office, which is notably empty of Shawn. They don't currently have a case, so Gus can't think where Shawn might have disappeared to.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary at the Psych office, Gus elects to just go home and have a nap. He's tired anyway, and Shawn isn't worth losing sleep over.

Of course, when he wakes up later and finds that Shawn still has not called him back, he decides to phone Henry, because he is starting to get a little anxious. Mr. Spencer says no, he hasn't seen Shawn today, thank God, and Gus by now you should really not be surprised when he flakes out on you for a breakfast date. Gus hangs up disappointed and decides that he'll try again in the morning, and if Shawn still cannot be reached, he'll go to Chief Vick about it.

Needless to say, that's exactly what happens.

Seeing as his Norton is still parked in its usual place, and the keys are hanging in theirs, and nobody can get a hold of Shawn, the Chief agrees to open a missing persons case immediately.

Twelve hours pass, and the forty-eight hour mark is upon them. Gus knows—but only in the back of his mind—that their chances of finding Shawn have just dropped dramatically.

Another day passes. Nothing at all. No ransom call, no notes, no evidence to speak of.

The thing about kidnapping is, in the vast majority of cases the perpetrator is a family member and the victim is a child. Gus knows that kidnapping victims of Shawn's profile are quite uncommon. But this is Shawn, and naturally his wouldn't fall under a common case.

There is no evidence that would suggest he was in danger. Gus was convinced for a while that his friend must have been working on a case that he simply hadn't told him about, but that makes no sense. Gus is always the first to be dragged into Shawn's investigations, and Shawn had ample opportunity to bring something like that up in the days leading up to his disappearance. As the days drag on and no evidence is found indicating he was working on something that would piss off someone dangerous, Gus has no choice but to accept that the perpetrator is likely a complete stranger about whom they know nothing. For about two seconds he entertained the possibility that Shawn just ran off, but of course that fantasy ended when he remembered that Shawn's motorcycle was left behind.

Five more days. Practically the entire SBPD has pitched in on the search somehow. Still nothing.

It's been some weeks before it even occurs to Gus that he might never see Shawn again.

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Shawn wakes up with a horrible headache inside something that's moving. It's obviously on wheels, traveling over uneven ground. He blinks his eyes open, which, thankfully, does nothing to worsen his headache, since wherever he is, it is very dark. He is lying on an itchy blanket inside some kind of windowless room made from wood. He's been around the block a few times, but this is a first.

"Hey," he tries to say, but his voice comes out very raspy and weak. One hand on his head, he sits up, unsteady but not too slow. "Hey," he tries again, much stronger this time. And then, just short of shouting, he is able to call, "Hey, where am I? Let me out of here!"

There is no response. He decides it must be night, because it is really dark. Either that or this box in which he has found himself is just so exceptionally well made that no light at all is able to seep through the cracks. He blinks several times, but it doesn't help. He can't see a thing. "Is anyone else in here?" he asks, a bit nervous. Silence answers him.

After ascertaining that he is alone in wherever he is, Shawn's next step is to go for his phone. But it is not in its usual pocket. He pats himself down, and finds nothing. He has nothing but the clothes on his back. And even his outfit is incomplete; his Nikes are missing.

Starting to worry, he casts his mind back, trying to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers, which takes a full minute to come up with, is riding his Norton along the highway, on the way back to his apartment from bowling with the SBPD team… and then nothing. Did he make it home? He thinks so, but he isn't sure…

It's quite clear to him that this is abduction. He must have been whacked over the head… It hasn't even occurred to him until now to do a physical inventory of any injuries, and that worries him. But he finds nothing. He even double checks his head for any bumps at all, and there is not a blemish to be had.

That leaves only one possibility, assuming he didn't faint from shock (no, that's something Gus would do)—he was drugged.

He hopes they were gentle.

He doesn't know where to go from here, and he's so tired. The only thing he can do, it seems, is go back to sleep. He knows that it might benefit him to stay awake and listen for any sign of where he's being held or who's doing the holding or why, but it might benefit him even more to get some quality rest to do all that later.

He knows it would be impossible to resist the urge for very long anyway, so he just gropes around for the itchy blanket again, and falls asleep before he's even dragged himself all the way on top of it.


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