"Shawn, it's Lost. Press send on your phone. I need your help."

The day was bright and sunny, and Shawn stared at his phone in apparent confusion. This was the first time that Lost, a teen he'd known for almost a year now, had ever contacted him. He didn't want to know how she knew how to get his number. She was a fangirl, after all.

To send or not to send? Shawn mulled over the idea for a while, watching as Gus ate his heart out with the rest of the jerk chicken.

"Shawn, you've never been so quiet," Gus observed, sounding a tad bit concerned. "What's up with you?"

"I just got a text from Lost," Shawn answered, holding up his phone. "We have a way to get into her world, but she said I could never do that again. She says she needs my help, but I don't know..."

Without another thought he pressed his thumb into the send button on his phone, and before he knew it the air was warmer, the sun was higher in the sky, and there was the distinctive lapping of waves in the background.

"Shawn?"

He and Gus turned, Gus shooting him a glare, to face the teen they'd gotten to know so well.

Shawn rubbed the back of his neck, managing to look sheepish. "Hey, Lost."

The five-four African American's hair was shorter then he remembered, and she definitely got a new frame for her glasses. The look in her distinctive Asian eyes was a cross between joy, fury, and confusion.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Shawn frowned. "What do you mean? I got your text..."

Lost mirrored his expression, her lips turning down at the sides. "What text? I don't even know your number."

"But it was from you, see," Shawn protested, showing her his phone.

"That's my number," she confirmed, looking a little paler then usual. "What-- Shawn, you're not supposed to be here."

"I remember that stuff you said about space-time and all that," Shawn said, shrugging. "But Lost, you said you needed help."

"First of all, that's not from me," she said angrily. "I don't know how they did that, but it's not possible, okay? The rift should've been sealed a long time ago, and now you've done and completely ripped it apart! I told you to never come back here, no matter what!"

"Shawn," Gus muttered.

Shawn ignored him. "Well, we didn't even really have time to say goodbye, you know. And besides, how bad could this be?"

"Shawn, I mean it," Gus nudged him. "Something looks familiar about this."

"We've got to seal it this time," Lost warned. "For good. You only have 24 hours, Shawn. This rift could be anywhere!"

"Where exactly are we?" Shawn demanded.

"We're on a cruise ship!" Lost shouted, gesturing around her. "Didn't you see the sign?"

"What sign?"

Lost took a step back to reveal the large banner hanging from the edge of the balcony on the third level.

Welcome to the second annual Psychfic Convention

Shawn and Gus looked at each other, and back at Lost.

"Oh, hell no."