A Psych Story || Season 1 (Shawn Spencer x Fem!Reader)

S1 E2: Spellingg Bee, Part 2

"Burton Guster."

"Guess which idiot we both know nearly got themselves killed." My voice is strained from helping Shawn the Dingus™ walk. He refused to sit in a wheelchair, let the male nurse size him for a crutch, and use a cane properly.

"YN? Are you at the hospital? What happened?"

"Not me! Shawn. He sprained his knee and bruised his radius. They're releasing him now."

"How did that happen?"

"He crashed his menace into a ditch."

"Did he call his dad?"

"I did not crash! I was pushed off the road!" Shawn yells into the phone as he pulls the bandage off of his wrist.

"Let me just put you on speaker, Gus."

"Did you call him?" Shawn peeks through the glass of the doors, looking for something.

"Gus, I am not going to talk to my dad."

"God, Shawn. Just let him know that you're okay," I grumble, annoyed.

"All he cares about are results, just like those possessed spelling bee parents," He pauses to look through another window, "You know what's wrong with this? All of this."

"Shawn, you're delirious. You're upset. You lost control of your bike last night."

"Gus, I didn't lose control of anything. Someone tried to kill me or send a vey serious message."

"Awesome, someone wants to kill you. Seriously contemplating that myself. Make sure you talk to Vu. He's in that room," I reveal, pointing to a door down the hall.

~Timeskip because I can't take the plot I wrote seriously. It's trash, but I'll continue, don't worry. I just need a moment to mentally prepare myself for this garbągé I'm sending into the world.~

"Poisoned?" KC challenges.

"Poisoned?" I repeat.

"Poisoned?" Gus echoes.

"I feel somebody poisoned his food," Shawn announces from the chair in front of KC's desk. "There is a...styrofoam container...Yes, and-and a...uh, uh...'Happiness is a golden poem'...What? Fortune cookie!"

"This is ridiculous," Las interjects from a doorway.

If I choose to believe Shawn that someone ran him off the road, it makes sense that someone would get poison Cavanaugh to get rid of him. We have to figure out what 1-9-5-3 means. A year, maybe?

"Mr. Spencer, what we have now points to a medical condition, not murder. All appearances show Mr. Cavanaugh having an anaphylactic reaction."

"Not to be out of line, but that could be triggered by several types of poisons or altered medications," Gus answers. It's true. Just the other day, I was watching the First 48...

Well, more like binging, but I digress. It's not relevant.

"Or shellfish, which he was allergic to," Carlton shuns. I 'gently' step on the back of his shoe, for kicks. This is boring.

"Those results will show up in the toxicology report, which we will have a copy of in approximately two weeks," KC discloses. Nevermind, not boring. Mama needs her money.

"That'll be too late!" I blurt out. "All the contestants will have gone home. We won't be able to finish a real investigation!"

"Chief, I...I sense this," Shawn adds in, standing up from the chair. "Something got out of control, and the perpetrator was willing to kill to cover it up."

"What proof do you have?"

None.

"Only what I feel," Shawn admits defeatedly.

"Why are you still listening to this crap?" Carlton asks KC.

"Dude, what is your glitch?" Shawn asks Las.

"You," I answer without missing a beat.

"You are my 'glitch.' Look," Carlton starts, turning to Chiefie. "Spencer got nowhere with his inhaler assignment, and then he tells the media that we had a murder scene. Cut him loose, Karen!"

KC does a double-take, clearly surprised at Carlton's nerve. Juliet, KC, Gus, and I all look at Carlton in shock. My hand immediately shoots up to smack my taller brother upside the head. He's not that much taller than I am. I'm 5' 6", 5' 7" on a good day.

"I mean..." Las tries to backpedal, "Do whatever you think is best...chief."

"Wait, Cavanaugh was supposed to make an announcement, right? What about that?" I speculate.

"The director said he'd spoken of retiring," Juliet chimes in.

"That's not what he was going to say," Shawn butts in.

"Oh, you know?"

"Don't talk," I warn Las. He looks away.

"I know," Shawn answers.

"Mr. Spencer, I asked you to check in about the inhaler incident. If you or your partner have anything about that, I'd be happy to hear about it. Otherwise..."

The Psychic Duo leave, not having any info about the inhaler. Shawn can't tell the chief of police that he stole from a crime scene.

Juliet was sent away by Las to get some coffee. She's still scared of him, poor child. I would step in, but she needs to build up her backbone if she wants to survive in this department.

"YN, any progress on your investigation?" KC asks.

"Nothing more than Shawn and Gus. I have some theories but no concrete physical evidence. No new visions or premonitions."

"How are the powers? Getting better, worse? Anything new?" Carlton questions.

"Visions and premonitions are less painful, but nothing else, really. I had a peculiar dream, though. I was like three, four years old, and mom was grocery shopping. It was me, you, and Lauren," I describe, pointing to myself and Las. "I started shaking, so we went to the hospital."

Carlton's frown deepens, "How do you remember that? You were only four."

"Remember what? I told you, it was a dream."

"Your appendix was infected, and it burst. You had a seizure. The doctors said it was because your body was going into shock. "

I'm sorry. I know this was short (and late), but I didn't write enough so I'm spreading this episode out into three parts. The next update may take a few weeks, my computer got a virus. I'm currently writing a paper copy and will upload once I get a chance to edit. Love you and stay safe! - Anne H.