Third Person POV

Cory sits in Topanga's, a drink in front of him. The drink is untouched, as Cory is too distracted. Cory knows, he knows, that those bruises weren't caused by tripping. He knows Maya's lying. He just doesn't know how he didn't see it before. He should have seen it before. But he can't go back and change that now. All he can do now is try to make up for it.

The bell above the door dings and in walks Shawn. His camera hangs around his neck, a sign he's come straight from work. That doesn't surprise Cory. He knows that Maya's someone Shawn cares deeply about and Shawn would drop anything for the blonde beauty.

"Hey Shawn," Cory greets as Shawn sits across from him at one of the tables in the establishment.

"Hey Cor, I came as soon as I could," Shawn says, his eyes filled with worry, "Is she okay? You didn't say much on the phone."

"I don't know Shawn," Cory says, shaking his head, "She has bruises on her arms and she lied about how she got them."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I've known Maya her whole life, I know when she's lying," Cory says, "Plus, this isn't the first time she's been hurt. She's had cuts and bruises before but I didn't think anything of them."

"You think," Shawn says, his voice shaking slightly, "You think someone's hurting her?"

"I can't be sure, but there's been too many coincidences. Maya may not be an olympic gymnist, but she isn't a klutz. Plus, she got really defensive when I asked her where she got the bruises," Cory answers, "I think it's getting worse."

"We need to do something!"

"I know, that's why I called you."

"What can I do? We should be calling the police or child services!"

"Right now, I have no solid proof that someone's hurting her. You need to talk to her," Cory says.

"Why me? You're her father figure, you talk to her," Shawn argues, not even knowing what he would say to the girl. He isn't good at stuff like that, he isn't a father figure.

"No, I'm not, at least not anymore," Cory says, shaking his head, "Maya looks up to you Shawn, she trusts you. Besides, I already tried to talk to her and she wouldn't tell me what was going on."

"I don't know Cor. I want to help her, but I'm not good at that kind of stuff."

"You have to try Shawn."

"Alright, I'll talk to her tonight."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Maya's POV

I sit at my desk, working on my art assignment. I really need to get this done, it's due in a few days and art is the only class I actually care about. If I'm being honest with myself, the reason I'm sketching is to distract myself. Cory saw the bruises. He saw the bruises! He knows something's wrong, I know it. Cory could always see through my lies and he definatly saw through my lies earlier. What if he called the cops? Child services? They could be on their way to the apartment right now and then my life is over. I go away and never come back, never having a home again. I don't want that, I can't have that. I can't lose my home.

Suddenly, my phone goes off, Shawn's name flashing on the screen. I put down my sketchbook, and pick up my phone. I try to ignore the feeling in my stomach, the butterflies that flutter inside. Could Cory have told Shawn? Is he calling me to tell me that he called the cops? I push those thoughts away, or try to at least, and slide my finger across the screen, answering the call.

"Hello," I say.

"Hey Maya, how's life treating you?"

"Not half bad, how's it treating you?" I answer, trying to act like everything's normal.

"Pretty good. Are you busy tonight? I have the night off from work and was thinking of having a movie marathon with some pizza. Care to join me?"

"Tonight," I say, "Oh, I don't know. I have homework and..." My brain couldn't come up with any other excuses. Truth me told, I love having movie nights at Shawn's. When I'm there, it's like nothing is wrong and my life is normal. Sitting with Shawn, eating pizza and making fun of the stupid characters on the screen, it's what I imagine kids do with their dads. And while my dad and step-monster may be horrible examples, Shawn isn't. He may not be biologicially related to me, but I'd choose him out of all the other options.

"Come on kiddo, it'll be fun. I might even attempt to make something myself tonight."

"Oh really? Now that's a show I have to see."

"So come over then. I was scrolling through Netflix and they have State Fair and Roman Holiday. I know how much you love those old classics," Shawn says. Those are some of my favorite movies. Plus, my mom's working late and my step father is already out at the bars.

"Alright fine, I'll be there in fifteen."

"I'll start cooking then."

"Try not to burn the apartment down while you're at it," I say, grabbing my sketch book and shoving it in my purse.

"Ha ha, very funny. See you soon kiddo."

"Bye," I say, hanging up. I grab my jacket from it's spot on my desk chair and throw it on. I stop at the mirror on my wall, checking to make sure everything's hidden. Cory might not have told Shawn, but I'm not going to let him find out because I didn't cover it right. I open my bedroom door and make my way down the halls of my apartment, slipping out the front door. I walk down the busy streets of NYC until I reach the subway, riding until I reach the nearest stop to Shawn's apartment. I walk more until I'm at his building. I grab the key he gave me, for emergencies or something like that, walk up the stairs to the second floor, opening the door to his apartment.

"What happened to making dinner?" I ask, smelling the pizza from the shop two minutes down the road.

"Yeah, after hanging up, I quickly remembered that I can't cook nor have the supplies to cook. So pizza it is," Shawn answers, handing me a plate with two slices of buffalo chicken pizza on it, my favorite.

"I knew you couldn't do it," I say with a smirk on my face.

"Yeah yeah, sit down and eat your pizza, I'll put the movie on in a minute," Shawn says, grabbing his own slices of pizza while I sit on one end of his couch.

"What is the movie choice tonight Ms. Hart?" Shawn asks once he sits down.

"Roman Holiday, you still haven't finished it."

"Hey, not my fault that I fell asleep. It was late!"

"Yeah yeah, just put it on." With the movie playing, this feels normal. This is what a father is supposed to be like. Watching movies together while goofing off and eating pizza. This makes me feel happy. However, once we get to the part of the movie where Ann falls asleep on the bench, that happiness goes away and turns into worry.

"So, I saw Cory today," Shawn says, putting down his empty plate.

"Oh, that's nice," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady. The butterflies come back and they're more intense then they've ever been.

"He told me about what happened in detention." Uh oh.

"Nothing happened in detention Shawn. Pay attention to the movie, this part's important," I say, trying to move the subject along.

"He told me about the bruises Maya," Shawn says, turning to face me, "You wanna tell me how you really got them?"

"I told Cory and I'm telling you Shawn, they're nothing. I tripped over some art supplies, that's it," I answer.

"Maya, we both know that's a lie," Shawn says, trying to look me in the eye but I avoid his look, "Tell me the truth. Who gave you those bruises?"

"No one," I answer in a small voice, my eyes focused on the movie.

"Maya, who gave you those bruises?" Shawn asks again, but I ignore him, keeping my focus away from him. "Maya, look at me and tell me who's hurting you." Once again, I ignore him but Shawn doesn't take that as an answer. He grabs my chin and turns my head so I'm looking him dead in the eye. "Maya, tell me so I can help you."

"You can't!" I say, my voice louder then intended. "No one can," I add, my voice softer this time.

"Yes, Maya, yes I can. I can help. Cory can help. Topanga can help. We can all help you but only if you tell us what's going on."

"No you can't. None of you can help me," I say, my walls breaking a little each time I look into Shawn's eyes, "This is something I have to deal with."

"No it's not Maya. If someone's abusing you, you can't deal with it on your own. It's not something you can just live with. It may not be that bad right now but it'll get worse and you could get seriously hurt Maya. But if you tell me who, then I can tell the police and whoever's doing it do you can go away and will never be able to hurt you again. You just need to tell me who," Shawn says, his eyes never leaving mine. My vision starts to get blurry, tears clouding my vision.

"I can't Shawn. If I tell you then my life is over. They'll go to jail and I'll have no one. I'll have to go into foster care and then I'll never see Riley or Lucas or Farkle or you again and I can't have that. I can't leave the only people who have ever loved me. If dealing with him hurting me is the price I have to pay to keep you all in my life, then fine, I can deal with the pain," I say, voicing my deepest darkest feelings that I've kept inside my whole life.

"That's not true. We'll figure something out, you don't have to go away but he can't keep hurting you. Who is it anyway? Your dad? Someone who live's in your building? Your stepdad?" When Shawn says that, I look away, breaking eye contact, all but conforming who's hurting me. "Your stepdad's the one that hurts you?"

"I have to go," I whisper, knowing I've said too much. I have to get home and try to fix this. I have to think of something, some excuse to make this all go away.

"Maya, don't," Shawn says, reaching for my arm but I'm already halfway to the door. I open the door and race down the stairs. I can hear Shawn calling my name, telling me to stay. Telling me to let him help, to stop. But I don't stop running until I'm on the subway.

Shawn can't help me. No one can.