Author's note: Alas, I do not own Shane or Shannon. This is actually a fic that came out of an RP ... all you need to know (if it isn't obvious) is Shannon's leaving home after a couple bad events. It's very short ... basically just written to record one event that didn't get to be RPed.

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You leaned against the doorframe, one hand in your pocket, the other rubbing the back of your neck. I pretended not to notice as I swept things randomly into either a box or a garbage bag.

Your eyes followed a framed picture of us - I think it was us, I didn't really see it - as it fell into the plastic bag. "Uh, Shannon...?"

I turned around to look at you, and you looked up, as if realizing where we were and what was going onfor the first time. Then you blinked and seemed to focus.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I sat back on my heels, blowing upwards at a lock of hair that kept falling into my eyes. "Shane. You've asked me that maybe a hundred times already. I'm sure. If I didn't want to, I would've given up by now. Can you bring me the packing tape?"

"Why? So you can tape my mouth shut?" You grinned, that goofy smile you do with the corner of your mouth, and I smiled back at you, taking the roll of tape from you but catching your hand in both of mine before you pulled away.

I felt your fingers close around mine, and for a moment I didn't want to talk, or pack, or even think - I would've been content just sitting there in the middle of my messed-up living room, just holding your hand.

It was quiet for a long time, and I tried to break the silence, but my mouth wouldn't move. You were the first to speak.

"Shan ... you can always come back, you know. Wait - " you held up a hand when I finally opened my mouth to protest, "I don't mean I'm trying to stop you now. But there's always a home for you here." You pressed your lips together, glancing down briefly before looking back up at me. "There'll always be someone for you here." Your words caused an instant piercing pain, and I almost winced, feeling a fist closing around my throat. But that's why I'm leaving, Shane. Because there isn't a home for me here. Because there's nobody for me here. My hand slipped from yours, pulling the packing tape from you, and I noisily tore a long strip from the roll, raising it to my mouth and biting it off.

"... I know," I said finally, turning away to tape up the lid of a box. You fell quiet, and I felt your eyes searching me, looking for unspoken words. I taped up the box, then sat back on my heels again, looking up at you.

"I know."

You looked at my eyes, I looked at your chin. Finally we both looked away as I pulled another box towards me, taping the lid shut. You sat down on the edge of the sofa, poking through one of the garbage bags.

"Hey, Shan..."

"Hmm..?"

"Can I keep this?" You pulled a picture frame out of the bag, showing it to me, but the light caught the glass of the frame and reflected into my eyes so I couldn't see what the picture was.

"Yeah, sure ... it's yours."

I taped up the last box and stood up, stretching my legs and looking around at the mess on the floor. You stood up as well, and I felt you behind me so I started to turn around, but your hands on my shoulders stopped me.

"Shannon ..."

"Shane ..."

"...Promise me you'll remember." Your hand reached over my shoulder.

I reached my hand up, and we hooked pinkies.

"I promise."