Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights reserved. Okay, so this story has been in my head for some time now and I decided to give it a shot :) I've always loved the relationship Shawn maintained with Jon (even though it practically became nonexistent after a while). Anyway, this takes place after Cult Fiction, a few months or so where Jon had enough time to recover. Let me know if you want more! Reviews are greatly appreciated! R&R~

Shawn swung opened his locker, the hinges screeching inaudibly after the quick motion. The door piercingly clashed against the wall, the echo blending in with the rest of the swarming hallway noise before homeroom rounded the students into controlledclassrooms. The ambiance was furthering his drawn headache as he marginally shiftedhis gaze away from the others. The torment of tiredness showcased in his features as his stare fell to the floor. His mind was lost elsewhere, increasing thoughts that held no attention to school or anything pinned as relevant. His frustration began eating away at his strung together composure as longwinded days proceeded.

A crawling sensation of question rebounded in his skull without fault as he analyzed his situation. The entirety of the involuntary dilemma caused the ruse of his ongoing lies to become worn and persuaded too much effort on his end. A minor crack within his determination and the integrity of those deceptions would unravel. There was a fissure, apparent in his actions, decipherable and clear to those who knew him well. His usual method of ignore andevade was simply running its course with the jagged end in sight. It was taxing to shove his problems out of view when he walked through them daily, their persistence eager to endure despite his yearning to have them vanish without a trace. But he was well aware. Too much time had passed, which left him wondering what would become of him. He could feel it clawing away, shredding every ounce of his willpower, knowing and facing this anxiety again.

He never handled being alone well. Breaking the cycle or reforming the path his life was leading him down would only guide him further from those who accepted him. The walls were always closing in, the gravitational pulltowards his world would suffocate him before too long and he desperately needed a way out. Locked within his head was a calamity too fierce for him to fight. But at this rate, he wasn't about to raise and argue back. The swell of exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, his energy siphoned by the daunting passing days. Some battles were easier to willingly lose than be beaten down by them instead.

Trailing his fingers over his forehead, he forced the concern aside. Dwelling would only weaken his resolve to remain silent and intact. He didn't need any palpable form of assistance or benevolent offered help. The options were silently presented but he refused to accept them. It was a contamination to admit he needed help if he proved a hindrance down the line. Shawn led a life comprised of hardships and losing his way. Reality was harsh in nature but true to experience. He learned to handle the downslide on his own.

Hearing the call of a familiar voice invited his wanted attention to change. He spun around, easily wiping the complexity from his face.

"Hey, Shawn," Cory greeted, slumping his backpack onto the tiled floor in a quick gesture. A quality of excitement was traceable in his tone once reaching his friend's side. "You'll never guess what tomorrow is."

He forced a smile, dropping all previous rampaging thoughts after listening to this on multiple occasions. He could read the other without a drop of effort. "Let me guess, your one hundred and eleventh anniversary with Topanga?"

"It's our second, my Shawn," he corrected, raising his finger in explanation.

"Oh, right, that was the number of times you told me about it," he expressed with a low sigh, grabbing a hardcover. He constantly found security in the fact that Cory and Topanga remained a couple. They had a relationship that appeared indestructible, one that would last a lifetime. When they were apart on few cases, they were still together in his eyes even if he spoke opposing words. And while he hasn't set his eyes on someone so devoted to maintain a relationship with him, he felt a small reassurance run through him whenever he witnessed them unscathed and united through any hardship they faced. It was the only visible proof he had that not everything had to break apart and reach an unsightly end.

Cory slanted his head off to the side, noticing the intertwined gloom in the other's lackluster reply. "Did I do something?"

"What do you mean?" he asked with a confused look, tilting his head down. Cory usually could discern an impending problem despite the effort Shawn placed in concealing the signs or brushing the magnitude to the side.

"You've been acting off for the last few days." He then raised his eyebrow in question, a prone suspicion forming as he paused. "And are those the same clothes you wore yesterday? Actually, you already wore that this week, not that I really pay attention to what you wear but…"

Shawn dropped his gaze, staring at his hand for a moment, biting hesitation grasping his mind as he attempted a liable defense. "Uh, yeah, I just overslept this morning and didn't get the chance to change."

"Uh huh, and you always sleep in your clothes? If this is a sign I'm not seeing, then you should tell me now and spare us the expected drama because we both know what will happen." He was well attuned to Shawn's habits when something was spiraling out of control in his life. He'd become unruly; pull illegal stunts and act disheveled. But of course, he'd always skip any form of clarification no matter how insistent he was to hear the underlying cause. His friend's stubbornness bore into the reliability balancing their bond at times.

"Come on, Core, what's with the third degree? Sometimes I do. No big deal," he replied jadedly, shutting his locker as some irritation slipped into his response. All he needed was to survive this day so he could pound his way through the next until everything returned to normal. However, the interrogations would only fester the longer he avoided the truth.

A lapse of time arose while lost in thought. "Okay, fine. You don't have to tell me anything. Nope. Because you, Shawn Hunter, are always genuinely honest with me." He leaned back against the cold surface of the adjacent locker. "But here's what I'm thinking-"

"Can we not? I'm not really in the mood." His tone was bathed in weariness, feeding into his eluding tendencies. He had a biting sensation this morning that the conversation was bound to rise no matter how evasive he wantedto be. He could submerge himself in falsehoods without struggle but they were feasible at best since his annoyance was grating against his nerves. He had to wonder how much his parents actually cared about him if they could simply ditch their only son without so much as a warning. If his mother frantically desired an escape, then why did she bother to return at all? And his dad, he never knew when to quit the circling search. They'd be husband and wife for a few months, maybe longer before something dug into their marriage and Shawn knew he was the prime source.

Cory offered a trivial nod, folding his hands in front of himself. A frown displayed once assumed comprehension settled. "If something happened, you can tell me, like always."

"Nothing happened," he exhaled, taking a step further away. His fingers gripped the strap of his backpack before tossing it to the floor. "Cut me some slack, alright? I've had a tough week. That's all." It was a grueling understatement, one he couldn't even begin to express. The words existed but he was fearful of getting others involved. His life had a way of hauling them down with him, in spite of their ability to keep him stable. He had little to begin with and each passing mistake, that small amount threatened to disappear.

"Something with your parents again?" he asked as they gradually walked a few steps. He knew Chet and Verna have been arguing lately but that was their typical behavior. As far as he was aware, they were aiming to be a family, trying to fix their past mistakes and mend all wrongs. He knew how Shawn viewed his parents when compared to his own. They were unpredictable, unreliable for all his life, but they were his only foundation of authority and care. If a force hammered away the little stability they discovered, Shawn would ultimately break. But he thought his friend would confide in him if anything transpired.

He descended his eyes for a second, the slim presence of reluctance forming. He peered upwards, banishing the negativity amounting in his voice, dodging eye contact. "No, they're fine. I'm fine. We're one big happy family."

Cory caught the skeptic remark. "Not that I don't believe you, but I'd have an easier time if you actually looked at me when you said that."

The hallway was clearing as they stood focus of the ceasing crowd. He bit his lip, taking a minimal stride in reverse. "Okay, so their occasional fighting is more… frequent," he uttered, negligibly shaking his head. "But I'm not worried about it. They always bicker and then make up soon after. Not important."

"If that's all then okay…" He knew better than to believe the statement, detecting the unmindful way Shawn presented his nervous behavior. "That still doesn't conclude why you seem on edge lately or look like you haven't slept in days."

"I can sleep through gun shots, loud traffic, helicopters, sirens, and yelling. I covered all my bases. In fact, I can't sleep without them," he explained, counting on his fingers. "I hardly hear my parents, only in the morning and that's died down. It's a phase. They'll get over it sooner or later." The fib was naturally placed into the combative statement. In reality, he simply became accustomed to the obnoxious level of commotion within the borders of the trailer park, to the point where it oddly became a comfort. It was home no matter where he went.

"Yeah," he said slowly as the last bell sounded. He felt the dire need of a topic change due to the elevated conviction in Shawn's tone. He had hoped the ongoing feud would come to an end, but compared to his parents, the scene was practically theatrical. Chet and Verna walked the wire to the extreme of abandonment too often. "So, will it be my place for the project then? We left most of the work at your trailer though."

Shawn inwardly cursed. The very prospect of their essay slipped his mind completely. He clasped his hands together. "You know… How about we start over? Or better yet, we do a different topic altogether."

A weak smile appeared on his face. "The project is due at the end of this week," he said, clearing his throat. "We can't simply start over like that. Besides, we were doing pretty well on it for starting three weeks ago and never getting back to it until today."

"It's our history grade," Shawn replied with a more relaxed manner, thankful the topic was swerved away from his family.

"It's a thirty page essay that, might I add, is almost done. And it's Mr. Feeny we're talking about here. As in my neighbor, our sixth grade teacher who follows us around our whole lives, the man who would kill us if we don't look like we spent more than a few hours on this thing. He's already threatening that feeling of complete and utter failure in our faces. We can't let him do that, Shawny, we just can't. And on a completely different note, you know I wanted to finish it today so I can spend the night with Topanga."

"We never finish schoolwork on time. We wait until last minute, rush, hand it in late, get it sent back to start over, and then fail. Let's not break the cycle," he embellished, not taking notice to the empty corridor. "And Topanga won't mind if you use the excuse of homework that was given to us about a month ago." He grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. "Anyway, I thought we had a good thing going here."

He knew his girlfriend would ridicule them for their preference of delaying work but it was their routine for years. His average grades were statistically low, but he's been able to score higher in the past. However, he enjoyed the luxury of laziness far too much. "We do but-"

"Hunter, Matthews, that wasn't an invitation. Why aren't you two in class?" Jonathan asked, his voice lingering down the empty hall once he took a step out of his classroom. Henoticed their lateness spread to other periods. But a vague retort would be the simpleminded verdict given when reason was asked.

Cory's eyes wandered the area, observing the unoccupied space. "Sorry, Mr. Turner but-"

"But nothing," Shawn interrupted, clamping his hands on his friend's shoulders. A flash of subdued motion was left visible as he quickly darted his stare from their teacher's watchful eyes. He turned, shoving the other forward. "We were just going."

"Our class is the other way," he whispered, being rushed ahead.

"Well, we're going this way now," he insisted as he steered Cory in the opposite direction.

"You two better not show up late for my class again. I can't keep letting it slide," he shouted.

"No promises."

Jon rolled his eyes at the comeback. He couldn't pinpoint the withdrawn behavior Shawn was displaying around him the last few months, avoiding every slimchance to speak when around one another. It appeared to be one of those moments where he dove into any means of discard due to a problem eating away at him. He'd question the kid but he would continually receive the same ambiguous reply.

Shawn had come to the hospital daily before he was discharged, taking time from his own schedule to talk and catch up. Nevertheless, the moment he returned to teaching, his student began sidestepping him like the plague. He held onto an inkling hint of cause but couldn't leave anything to theory.

The aimless sounds of a speech in the front of the room reached Shawn's ears as he rested his head against the desk. The irresistible urge to close his eyes hung temptingly in his mind. The reemerging form of fatigue elevated its way to him once more. As the day unrelentingly went on, its grip would only tighten. He motioned his head down, shutting his eyes for an attempted amount of seconds before wistfully being coerced into sleep.

"Now can everyone pass the homework up," Jon said, rapidly writing the assignment on the blackboard. "You guys will have to complete some questions based on the reading before the end of the period. Not my favorite thing either but just do your best." He leisurely took hold of the disorganized pile. While thumbing through the papers, he noticed one was missing. He paused and leveled his eyes to the middle row, discovering the source. He strode down the aisle, the class remaining quiet as he did so. "Am I keeping you up?" Mr. Turner asked, dropping a book loudly onto Shawn's desk.

He jolted up for a moment before his surroundings returned. "Apparently not," he muttered, running his hands over his face to cage the tiredness painted onto his countenance. He glimpsed up before prying his gaze away. "Sorry…"

An established silence constricted him, taking the paperback into his fingers again. The unlikelihood of an apology actually escaped, which caused a thin trace of unease to be stored for a later discussion. "If I recall correctly naptime ended in preschool," he continued, tapping the desk. "I asked for the homework to be passed to the front and I didn't see yours."

"Right…" He gave a nod, looking up again. "You see, I would give it to you but I didn't do it," he said sheepishly. "So, might as well save yourself the trouble, Jon and give me that zero and call it a day." He sounded slightly hopeful in his request but knew nothing would come of it. He usually couldn't get away with much, especially after pulling every known and made-up excuse in the book. He even resorted to shouldering the details to Cory but he wasn't exceptionally talented at fabricating whitelies.

"We're going to have a word after class, Shawn," Mr. Turner replied, backing to the front of the room.

He leaned forward. "Can I get a rain check? I'd stay but a discussion doesn't exactly fit into my calendar."

"Does detention fit into that calendar of yours?"

"Well, I'd have to check but for the sake of saving myself the trouble, I'm going to say no."

"Alright then, after class it is," Jon murmured and then faced his students. "Okay, so as I was saying. There are questions located on page three hundred twenty-five of your textbooks. Answer four of the ten and we'll call it a day while I finish grading last chapter's tests." He sat down, lowering his head but not before taking notice of Shawn's winded sigh. He seemed paler than usual and the suggestion of despondency loitered in his movements.

Shawn was flipping through the pages, his attention briefly attached to the words written before him. After not reading the selected material or pushing himself to concentrate on the homework, he felt the whirlwind of pressure stall his motions. His grades were ultimately sinking as the year inched closer to being complete. His center worry became fixated on if he was going to be able to fall asleep for enough hours tonight or what he intended to do over the coming weekend. The quiet voices of the student's broke him from thought as he slightly raised his head.

Topanga twisted around, a smile decorating her face. "Do you want to work on this together?" She peered beyond her boyfriend for a moment. "What's going on with him? Something is definitely wrong..."

"I know… I can't get anything out of him yet. Give me a sec." He turned, placing his fingers against the rim of his chair. "What's up with you?"

"What?" he asked, leaning back.

"I know you usually sleep through class and all but… Something's going on. I know you, Shawn. You don't have to cover anything with me."

He breathed out heavily, impatience breaking into the spoken syllables. "Give it a rest. I said I was fine before and that hasn't changed within the hour." He shifted his head off to the side, ending the unwelcome conversation.

Cory sat down after making his way through the swarming cafeteria, placing his tray on the table. "Ah, the remedy of lunch after a long morning," he expressed with delight. "Sometimes I simply don't get why we don't have longer breaks between classes. It does wonders." He picked up his hamburger, bringing it near his mouth.

"Are you going to finish that?" Shawn abruptly asked, strumming his fingers in a restless fashion. His stomach was begging for some nutrition as his thirst escalated. He hasn't eaten since last night which was about as long as he could endure without a meal. His justifications were already running dry, but he took no notice to overused methods of avoidance when it came to his growing hunger.

"No, I just thought I'd buy it and waste my money to throw it out," he replied wryly, placing his food down. "Obviously I plan on eating it. Why aren't you getting your lunch today?" He knew breaking his friend's resolve would have to become apparent soon due to the turn these instances were taking. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but Shawn's tendency to withhold the truth when it came to safety caused strenuous consequence on his nerves. Shawn would gamble risks most wouldn't wager their life on, knowing this fact from the many times he tried to run off without a destination, money, or a logical plan.

"I forgot my money at home again. Can I borrow some? I swear I'll pay you back," he persuaded with a weak promise.

He inclined forward, digging his hand into his pocket to reveal his wallet. "You already own me for last week," he reminded, taking out a five dollar bill. "But I guess-"

"Thanks, Core," he said, snatching the money and bolting off.

"I'll add it to your ever-growing tab then."

A few minutes passed before Shawn returned. He started scoffing down his lunch the moment he could. He hadn't realized how unyielding his hunger became until he began eating. He didn't take his lack of energy into account.

"Is there any reason you're inhaling your food?" he questioned, altering his gaze in the other's direction.

"I skipped breakfast," he managed to say after opening his drink and taking a long sip.

He threw his hands in the air in surrender. "Of course you did, three times this week. But fine if that's what happened…" He allowed his thought to break on the subject when a more pressing one came to mind. "Oh and what did Mr. Turner talk to you about after class?"

After swallowing, Shawn smiled. "I don't know. I didn't show up. I darted out when the bell rang," he said with a stroke of pride. Fleeing was usually his specialty when it came to authoritative figures. "There's some perks having my desk next to the door in the back of the classroom. By the time he realized, I was long gone. So, now he can't bother me about the homework or sleeping or whatever else he was going to ramble on about."

"I beg to differ," Jon said from behind, placing his hands on their shoulders after listening in on the discussion. "You see, the neat thing about having lunch with you guys is getting the chance to see my students a second time and overhear their ditching conversations. And I get an opportunity to bore you with a talk while you strain yourself to listen."

"Well, I would consider that eavesdropping. Not sporting of a teacher if you ask me." His tone leveled out once he glanced behind. He stole a peek at the clock across the room, knitting his fingers together in the process.

"Good thing I'm not asking you. We still need to talk. I noticed the way you darted out of there, any particular reason you want to share?"

"None that come to mind. But you can skip the whole thing. I heard it from the other teachers too. My grades are dropping because I'm not handing in homework, failing tests, and generally not paying attention." He stood up, a light scowl forming, self-depreciation rising in his chest. He knew what was befalling him and it wasn't unanticipated. "I guess that covers it. Get chat. See you tomorrow."

"Not so fast," Jon said, clutching the sleeve of Shawn's jacket and tugging him back.

He yanked his arm away. "No. I know what you have to say. I've heard it and I get it." He ran his hand through his hair as he took a step back. "Look, I just can't… Forget it. I don't care." He then headed to the doorway, taking a moment to realign his priorities. "I don't get what you're expecting from me, but you can stop. I can't reach expectations. I'm going to fail anyway so don't bother."

Mr. Turner sent a worried look in his student's direction. "What are you talking about, Hunter?"

"Nothing. Like I said, forget it." He turned and began heading out.

"What about your lunch?" Cory called.

"I lost my appetite."

There was a moment of stillness falling between them. "What's going on with him?" Jonathan asked, passing his hand along his chin. He had to get to the bottom of this issue or he'd once again see someone he cared about lose their way. But he still had no leads on what was causing the disruptive attitude to reform in such subtle signals. He thought for once, his student was done losing faith in who he was but instead he consistently strode down a path that threatened to lead him astray.

"I have no idea but knowing Shawn… It's never good. And I can't get him to tell me anything," Cory voiced lowly. It was only a matter of time before harm spoke for his friend's unkempt deceits to reveal themselves in rebellious action instead of being covered by implausible word of mouth.

"He won't sit still for a second to even talk to me. He's always taking off somewhere."

"Which makes me wonder where he's going now," he said cautiously, aware of his friend's negligent ways. "Because it's apparent that he's not doing okay. I know he'll eventually tell me but… I'm worried."

"He trusts you and when he feels cornered enough, he'll turn to you. I wish he would beforehand, but unfortunately that's not how he operates. When he does come to you, be sure to let me know if it's something you can't handle. We know it very well could be…"

"Yeah… Sure thing, Mr. Turner."

Shawn managed to catch the afternoon bus in time to head back to the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park after ditching the confines of school. The gained freedom wouldn't dispel the impending concern he walked towards. Dragging his feet as he headed down the dirt road, he looked upon the scene still clinging to the hope that maybe his father had returned but as he predicted, the parking space where their mobile home should be remained vacant. Amoan was released as he sat on the ground and glanced up at the greying sky.

His neighbors and scattered family members would think nothing more of his predicament since it was a frequent predicament when he was younger. He was always shoved with relatives or left to find a place to stay in the meanwhile. Besides, getting involved in other's affairs could be considered deadly depending on who was included. It was everyone for themselves in this small world he lived in.

"Hey, Little Cory," he said, his spirits rising as the pig hurriedly approached. He pulled his backpack forward. "I forgot to grab some food on my way out. But I managed to get you this." He placed an apple down and took out a bagel for himself and began eating, regretting the wasted food he left behind. "I'm sure you ate enough while I was gone though." He ran his hand over the pig's head. "Well, I guess it's just you and me again." He knew he had to go over to Cory's house later so he didn't attempt to come around here or call.

He took an extended breath. "Another night left alone," he mused softly, the burden pressing against him. Little Cory sat down at Shawn's feet, nuzzling against his owner's leg. "And you of course, my only company. Oh well, no reason to complain. Dad should be back eventually but until then I'll just wait… again." Resentment found its way to him constantly, instilling bitterness and discontent when reminiscing the previous times he has dealt with this. However, he sorely missed the opportunity to counter his father's departure to chase down his unwilling mother. "But let's face it… he might not even come back for me this time..."