Clear Shot (Psych Fanfiction)

Chapter Seven

Loud noise filled Shawn's ears and he rolled over in his bed. He reached to the table beside his bed and turned his phone alarm off. It was six in the morning, and, even though he went to sleep early, he was exhausted. But he knew he had to get up. The rendezvous point was pretty far away. The first time he'd gone there, he called Gus, walked there and an hour later he was in the trunk of a car. So he was going to leave at six forty-five. But then he remembered that he'd have to make sure nobody saw him, and decided six thirty was a better idea.

He changed into a green and white plaid button up shirt, along with some jeans and sneakers. He then walked out of his bedroom and took some milk out of his fridge, along with a "healthy" breakfast bar from one of the cabinets.

He sat down and sighed. His mind had been going over his situation over and over again, not stopping. He still had no idea what to do to get out of it. As of yet, he couldn't think of anything. But how long would this last? Would it ever end? Could they really take his entire life from him? If they thought that even for a second he would live longer than them, they'd probably shoot him and take what he had. What if they stopped forcing him to commit crimes? Would he be able to tell anybody what had happened without people still getting shot?

He stopped himself from thinking about it. He had so many questions, but he wasn't going to get answers, so why bother? He checked the time, and it was six twenty-three. He threw away the breakfast bar wrapper and washed the glass.

Why not leave early and see if I can get it over with? It wouldn't hurt, Shawn thought. He put his phone in his pocket and walked out of his door. He looked around. Luckily, the old dry cleaners was in a more of a neighborhood area, so there wasn't anybody awake to see him. If it was around workplaces, that would have been a problem. He stuck to the dark areas of the sidewalk.

Once he made it into more public roads, he mostly hid in the trees next to them. There weren't too many cars, but he had to be careful. He continued to weave through the city, one road at a time.

He arrived an hour and a half later, longer than before since he had to stay hidden. It was only seven fifty-six, and he didn't want to get into any trouble for coming too early, so he waited until seven fifty-nine to enter the storage yard. Shawn looked around and saw Rollins and Longmore by the ice cream truck.

"Where's the car?" Rollins pulled out his gun when he didn't see it.

"Woah, woah, woah, I got it," Shawn put his hands up, but pointed one to a truck. "It's behind that truck."

Rollins looked at Longmore, who went to go check. He turned back and nodded. But he didn't stop there. He inspected the wheel that originally contained drugs and shook his head at Rollins. Rollins immediately grabbed Shawn and pushed him against the ice cream truck with, yet again, the gun to his head.

"Where are they?" Rollins yelled. "What did you do?"

"I swapped it out," Shawn was slightly happy for his small victory, but still feared what would happen to him. "You never said not to."

"Listen here, you got a smart mouth," Rollins dug the gun into Shawn's temple. "Now I could shoot you right here, right now. Yeah, they'd find your body, but they still don't have a way to find us. If they're even smart enough to figure out it was me who shot you. But that car? Just a test. I saw you do that with the tire and I have to say, you're observant. Great quality for a criminal. But just because you saw it didn't mean you had to switch it. No, we'll need to change that about you."

Shawn was about to open his mouth again in protest, but he instead gasped in pain as Rollins lifted his shirt sleeve and stabbed him in the arm with a knife that seemed to appear out of nowhere. It wasn't a large or fatal wound, but it was on his left arm, which had just come out of a hospital sling that he'd had in his bed.

"That was a warning," Rollins growled. "Now, don't think I don't know about your new case. And I know exactly what's going to happen. Don't screw around with your assignments from now on."

With that, he left Longmore to patch up the knife wound. The man showed no sympathy for Shawn. He'd really hardened himself up after Rollins yelled at him for letting Shawn use a phone. Longmore was careful to leave no blood on the shirt, otherwise it would have to be explained to his friends and there was no truly believable cover story for that.

Once it was patched up, Longmore left too, going around the metal buildings in a zigzag pattern, obviously so Shawn wouldn't know where he went. He decided he would probably get shot trying to follow them, so he walked back to the road to head to the police department for the undercover case. He checked his phone and saw a voicemail from Gus.

"Shawn, the Chief called the office. She wants us at the department at nine o'clock sharp. Be there."

He checked the time. It was already eight twenty three. He'd lingered at the storage yard longer than he thought. He'd have to walk quickly if he was to get to the station on time. Hopefully his sleeve would keep the bandage covered, although he was guessing he'd be changing into something else since he was going undercover. Hopefully whatever it was had long sleeves, or at least wasn't some sort of tank top.

Shawn then focused on walking to the station and trying to ignore the stab wound pain so it would be easier later, when he was in front of others.