musicalluna | You Can Bank On It

Title: You Can Bank On It
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Shawn, Gus
Genre: Angst
Warnings: None
Complete: Yes
Summary: Shawn and Gus both wish Shawn were somewhere he isn't.
A/N: For the August/September monthly challenge on Psychfic. Prompt: Pick two points of view. Shawn, Henry, a random bystander, anything you want. Write their point of view on the events of 3x08: Gus Walks Into A Bank.
Disclaimer: Not mine to torment, but I do.

“AAAAAAAAAH! AAAH! LOOK, HE'S GOT A GUN!”

People all around Gus began screaming abruptly, throwing the quiet bank into chaos in mere seconds. When his gaze landed on the all-too-familiar hunk of black metal in a man's hand, he dropped, using the hand railing used to guide the line to fling himself under the check writing counter. His chest ached from the force of his heart pounding against his ribcage.

Oh, god, oh god—

“DON'T ANYBODY MOVE. YOU. MOVE. Now, don't anybody move!” the man yelled.

“Drop the gun!” another voice cried and Gus really, really hoped it was a security guard or something because he really didn't want to be stuck in the bank with someone that stupid.

“You drop your gun!”

A gun clattered to the floor of the bank and a second later, Gus flinched, ducking down even further as a shot went off. Oh, god, had someone just got shot?! The frantic screaming which had died down slightly rose up again with a new fervor, which did nothing to reassure him.

“Get over there! Get back! Don't anybody do anything!”

Gus pressed back against the counter as far as he possibly could thinking frantically, Minimize yourself as a target, stay low, keep quiet, don't draw attention to yourself, oh god, how did this happen where the hell is Shawn I'm going to KILL him!

“YOU!”

Gus' head snapped around and he felt his heart attempt to jerk to a screeching halt when he found himself faced with the business end of the bank robber's handgun. His hand was shaking and that only terrified Gus even more. You couldn't point a gun at people like that!

“Get over there!” the man ordered, and if Gus hadn't known better, he would have thought that the man seemed even more petrified than he felt.

But he still had a gun and Gus didn't mess around when it came to guns. He scrambled on hands and knees over to the banking counter where most of the others were huddled and pressed himself up flat against the wall there, trying to look as non-threatening as he could manage.

The bank robber moved on, delivering more anxiety-laden orders, jerking the gun back and forth. Gus flinched helplessly every time it swept over him.

He fervently wished that he had forced Shawn to come with him and then immediately took it back. Terrified as he was, he would never want to risk losing his best friend. And knowing Shawn and his stupid, impulsive mouth, he'd probably be the first to get killed in a situation like this.

Then again, Shawn had managed to talk them out of some seriously bad circumstances.

He whined quietly to himself.

Why couldn't Shawn actually be psychic?

~ * ~

Shawn sat forward in the car with a frown. What the hell was Gus doing in that bank anyway? Last time he'd been in there, none of the tellers had been even remotely hot enough to deserve this much attention. True, the last time he'd been in the bank had been quite awhile ago, but still—

The distant sound of sirens suddenly grew much louder and Shawn turned just in time to see a familiar maroon Crown Vic pull up sharply, just short of the Psychmobile's left side. He frowned, climbing out of the car to find out what was going on and the uneasy feeling stirring in his gut only got worse as several other police cruisers blazed in behind them.

“Lassie, Jules, what are you doing here?” he asked, trying to play it cool as he glanced between them.

“What are you doing here?” Lassiter shot back, either ignoring the question or—no, he was probably just ignoring the question.

“Shawn, we have a situation,” Juliet said, plowing on and ignoring both of them. She was using her Serious Cop voice. That never boded well. “Some guy just held up the bank and we think he's taken hostages.”

It took all of two seconds for Shawn's brain to process that.

GUS!

He bolted for the front doors of the bank and was immediately jerked back by a pair of hands grabbing him under the armpits. Two more hands pushed him back from the front. Oh, god, no, he had let Gus go in there alone with some psycho—

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy!” Lassiter said, but Shawn barely heard him. He had to get in there. He had to get in there now. If Gus got hurt—

A breath pushed past his lips. “Gus is in there,” he said quietly.

And he was going to get him out.