When he heard Cory's voice on the phone, Shawn knew something was wrong.

"I'll be right over," he said, not even asking. Things like this were better discussed in person. Apparently, Cory thought so to as he'd left the window open.

"So what happened?" Shawn asked as soon as he was inside, sitting at the foot of Cory's bed.

"You're probably gonna laugh, but...I had a bad dream. Actually, not just a bad dream, the most horrifying dream anyone could possibly have," Cory said. Shawn cocked an eyebrow.

"...A dream? You woke me at one in the morning over a dream?"

"Shawn, the kitchen was full of Feeny!" Cory hissed. "One on the counter, a couple sitting at the kitchen table, even one in the coffee pot!"

"Agh!" Shawn shuddered. "That's awful! No one should ever be exposed to that much Feeny!"

"Tell me about it. But that's not even the worst part," Cory sighed. Shawn blinked.

"What could be worse than a kitchen full of Feeny?" Cory tensed, hands fisting into his covers as he looked away; it suddenly occured to Shawn that this wasn't just a normal freaky dream. Something was worse than a kitchen full of Feeny. "Cor?"

"I killed him." The curly-haired boy's voice was barely above a whisper. "I killed him, Shawn, cause I wished he'd get sick so we didn't have to take the test. You know what it's like to kill a man, Shawn?" He was shaking and Shawn was getting scared. "It's not as cool as Van Damme and Stallone make it look."

"Aw, man..."

"It's like...you know how you think eating a whole bag of cookies is the best idea ever but then you do it and you end up feeling like you wanna puke? This is it. I ate all those cookies and now I wanna puke." He really did look sick, Shawn noticed, his face was pale and he was starting to shake pretty badly. "What if Feeny really is dead? You hear stuff about people dying in hospitals all the time and he's old, Shawn, he's old! He could be a stiff and it'd be all my fault!"

Cory was good at being pathetic. Anytime he tried to lie, anytime he tried to sink a three-pointer in basketball, anytime he tried to pretend he knew what Feeny was talking about. But this was a whole different kind of pathetic. He looked...lost.

"Come here." Shawn scooted over and pulled the shorter boy close, patting his hair a little. "It's gonna be okay."

"No it's not," Cory muttered, burying his face in Shawn's jacket and gripping his shirt. "I'm a killer. I'm gonna go to prison, I'll never see Mom or Dad or Eric or anyone again. They're gonna beat me up and feed me nothing but bread and water. And then-"

"And nothing." Shawn hugged him closer. "First of all, Feeny aint dead. The man's not gonna die as long as we're here, he likes torturing us too much. Second, wishing a guy would get sick's not gonna kill him. Remember? You don't have powers, you're not an X-Man. You're just Cory."

"But the dream-"

"Dreams don't mean anything!" Shawn cut him off. "Last night I had a dream a talking pony was eating all the apples in our fridge and calling me a moron, and then it took me for a ride in France where robots threw Jello at us." He laughed a little at the memory. "And if something that cool can't happen in real life, then Feeny aint dead and you sure as hell didn't kill him." Cory began to relax a little, his grip loosening.

"You really think so?"

"I know so." Shawn smiled. "Don't worry so much. Look, go to the hospital tomorrow and see for yourself, the man's alive and he can't wait to get back to school and give us a million tests to make up for the one we missed." Cory shuddered.

"Eww! Don't even joke about that!" Shawn smirked, the old Cory was still in there.

"You feeling any better?" Cory nodded a little.

"Well, I'm not gonna puke anymore. But I dunno if I wanna go back to sleep," he said.

"Want me to stay the night?" Shawn asked. "Yeah, I know it's a school night but I'll leave before your folks get up. And I left a note before I left."

"Shawn, it's Friday," Cory said.

"Oh...well, I still left a note." Shawn grinned. "So that's a yes?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Good." Shawn let go and dove under the covers, Cory sliding in after him. "Try not to kick me, okay?"

"You just try not to drool all over my pillow," Cory said with a laugh, pulling the covers tightly around them. "Thanks. For...you know. Snapping me out of it." Shawn yawned and closed his eyes, slinging an arm across Cory.

"What're best friends for?" he said warmly. They stayed up until the sun rose, whispering jokes and stories to each other under the blankets.

Across the room, Eric had slept through the whole thing.