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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from boy meets world! Blah, blah, blah...

I have taken the storyline from a few other fics that Shawn is abused by his father, but with a little twist; this now takes place after Shawn's mother has left him. All the rest is completely original.

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PLEASE READ WARNING: This story contains serious elements including severe physical, mental, sexual and emotional abuse, violence, Vulgarities, prostitution, Child endangerment, and the foster care system. You have been warned - if you want to read on, please do. There are also elements such as comedy, romance, friendship, the prevail of human spirit, criminal investigation, adventure, coming of age tales, bravery and thrills. It is a very diverse story, with a lot going on, however you may need a strong stomach and possibly a box of tissues if you're very sensitive - so sit tight, hold onto that cup of tea, and read on.

------------------------- Chapter 3: Ditto -------------------------

"Wow, this is a pretty neat place for a guy you're age...your parents rich or something?"

Mikey doesn't reply. Shawn wanders around Mikey's apartment. It's big, but not too big. He stands in the living room and glances around - a pale green curtain to the side of the room drapes over a small window. He finds himself gazing out of it and down at the lonely street below. The walls are a dark shade of blue with squiggles of white dancing across the top of them. A small heater sits in the far centre of the room, opposite a cottony sofa and within a metres distance of a small television resting on a old wooden drawer. He finds the whole place kind of roomy and lets the warmth from the heater circulate around his body, helping to drift his mind away from ugly thoughts. Mikey shuffles past him asking if he wants something to drink.

And not wanting to impose he replies "No thanks" and forces a small smile of appreciation. "But... can I sit down?" he asks.

Mikey laughs shyly. "Of course, you don't need my permission to sit" he says.

Shawn drags himself over to the pale red couch and drops onto it in an instant. The comfort and relief is such that for a moment his troubles float far, far away. Considering he had been sleeping with his head resting upon a wooden desk prior to being beaten and... he would never like to think of such things again, but of course they'd always be there. But the comfort of a soft cottony couch that he could just sink into and drown away into non-existent thoughts was something that words could not describe. He still

aches all over, but he often aches most days anyway.

"So... what do you do for a living?" he questions, his voice meek and shy.

Mikey sits beside him.

"I. Well, I work in an office at the moment"

Shawn nods, "Cool" he nods, "cool".

He looks down at his hands, his fingers intertwined with more fingers and... blood. Blood - He's still bleeding, his pants are still wet with stains of blood. He quickly stands. Looking down at the couch where he had been sat, he sees a small streak of blood smeared across the spot where he had been resting. It almost blends in with the colour, but at the same time stands out a mile away. It is drying, staining quickly.

"Oh God, I'm sorry...I, I'll clean it up. God, I'm sor..."

A sudden rush of pain finally digs into him as the effect of standing up so quickly reaches his central nervous system. He lets out a child like cry and drops to his knees, breathing heavily, and digging his fingernails into the palm of his hands in fists or torment. Mikey is at his side with his arm now wrapped around Shawn's shoulder.

"Shhh..." He soothes.

"I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I didn't do it on purpose..." Shawn repeats, trying to hold back tears of pain and humiliation, but failing miserably.

"It's okay Shawn, I don't care about the couch." Mikey says softly. "Do you want to lie down? Do you want to take a bath? I can wash your clothes for you, if you want" he asks. "I can lend you some clothes for now."

Shawn concentrates on his breathing and replies "You don't have to do this."

His confusion over Mikeys' kindness warps his view of the world and he finds himself jumping to all sorts of conclusions. He wonders when this kindness will end, if that's even what it is.

"I want to…" Mikey replies.

"Why, why would you want to help me...why would you wanna help me without gaining something in return, I mean, you don't even know me..."

Chets words echo in his mind, and the events of that night replay and replay. He'd more or less said the only thing he is good for is sex...rape. That he should make a living out of it. Is that how pathetic people see him as? Is that all they think he would be good for? He shakes the thoughts out of his head, but they just keep coming back to haunt him.

"I'm, I'm not into sex, I'm just scared, please don't expect that from me…please d..don't..." he stutters without thinking and tries to sound threatening, but again he fails miserably.

If he were to listen to himself later on he'd probably find the phrase 'I'm not into sex' a little odd coming from a teenage boy, having had many girlfriends (still he's virgin if ever there was one), but considering the state he's in he doesn't much care about that right now. Mikey's face drops as he realizes the implications of what Shawn saying, of what he thinks he wants to do to him.

"I...I would never take advantage of you, I wouldn't do that..."

Shawn isn't listening. His mind is still replaying his father's words over and over again.

"No..." he begins to struggle, but is very weak from the nights events. "Please…"

Mikey lets go of him, and steps backward. "Shawn, I wouldn't do that, listen to me...you needed help, I'm trying to help you...that's all."

He still doesn't listen to him. He tries to stand and walk away but just drops to the floor again. Eventually he gives up and buries his face in his arm, his body limp and stretched out across the living-room carpet. He cries as quietly as he can, which turns out to be quite loud.

"I want to walk" he sobs "Why can't I run, why can't I ever escape anyone..."

Mikey feels the deepest stab of sympathy for this poor boy he had only met a half hour before. He wants to comfort him and ease his pain and suffering, but seeing how fragile and petrified he is, he figures right now that isn't such a good idea. He isn't going to gain Shawn's trust by giving him a hug and telling him everything is going to be all right. He knows he can only help heal his physical wounds, for now anyway.

"Shawn...Shawn, I, I know what your going through, and believe me it's okay to cry...I understand why you would jump to such a conclusion and really, I don't blame you"

Mikey pauses. Shawn sniffs, his nose and eyes sore and red. He's still crying but he begins to listen to what Mikey is saying, if only a little.

"Just, just never mind about the couch, you're more important than a dumb couch...it's just"

He stops again.

"...Just that I know what your going through..."

Shawn suddenly interrupts him, yelling. "How? How can you know the hell I go through...everything fucking day! How can you possibly know...How can anyone know? How? How? How!"

Mikey loses it.

"BECAUSE MY FATHER ABUSED ME TOO!" he cries.

Mikey feels tears wet his eyes. He lowers his voice.

"I…I know, because I went through what you did. At least I know that I must have gone through something similar. I heard your question earlier and no my parents aren't rich...My mother's somewhere half across the world. She left when I was six…she never really wanted children anyway. She made it clear I was a 'mistake'. My father - well, he loved to play vicious games with me... First it started with a slap here and there, and then everything was suddenly my fault. We were short of money - 'It's your fault Mike! - if you hadn't have drove her away...' That's when he decided I was going to make up for it all. I was nine, and he started renting me out to people...like a fucking object..."

Mikey's voice cracks...He is in the same vulnerable position Shawn had just been in.

"...God I hated it, obviously, some of them actually got at me for not 'enjoying it' myself sick bastards... but eventually I got used to it. One day I woke up and I couldn't remember what life was like before. I couldn't remember what it was like to think I could fly if I really tried hard enough. I suppose that's something that happens to everyone though. But it was my life, and what more can you do other than live it. You'd be surprised at what a child can put up with. It still hurt, of course it still hurt, it still hurts now...but so many times, I can't even remember on count...it doesn't matter any more anyway. I ran away when I was 14. I'd ran away before but the cold had always got to me or the police found me and brought me back. This time though, I didn't go back... and no one found me..."

He finishes and rubs his eyes for a moment. He couldn't believe he'd just shared such an intimate moment of revealing his secrets to this young man whose name he'd only just discovered. He'd never told anyone that before. He slides into an armchair just a few metres away from Shawn.

He sighs one final time. "I know you're scared, but really... I'm honestly trying to help you."

Shawn can't believe it. This guy had been through what he had been through, no wonder he'd stopped to help. Until he'd been through it, he couldn't have imagined the amount of pain it caused. He wishes he could help people who'd been through the same fked up reality, but what can he do, he's just a kid... But Mikey - He isn't much older and he's doing so much for him.

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"You okay in there Shawn?"

Mikey's voice distracts him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, thanks" he replies.

They don't have a bath in the trailer. They have a shower. The feeling of lying down, covered in a warm blanket of water eased his pain a lot. For a few moments he sinks lower into the tub and forgets his troubles.

Splashing his face, he rests his hands on the sides of the bath, they stay there for some moments. He doesn't want to surface. Nothing can get him here. Not even the sharp voice of his fathers yells. He pulls himself up, careful not to fall. It wouldn't be too clever if he were to fall and drown in the bath. No, not clever, but at least a release. He shakes his head in a sigh and steps out of the bath.

"You've hung on this long Shawnee, there'd be no point in giving up now," he whispers to himself.

Oh God, he's using Cory's nickname for him.

"Okay, maybe I should kill myself" he says, chuckling somewhat at the thought of Cory's face the last time he'd seen him. He'd been watching Topanga as she hugged and kissed another boy rather friendlily on the cheek. Turns out the boy was her younger brother Cody. Only Cory had been standing there mouth agape as he stared frantically at the two.

Shawn stares into the bathroom mirror. His face is a little swollen from one of his fathers blows. The large bruise Mikey had told him about sticks out defiantly upon his right cheek. Apart from that, he doesn't look too bad. He'd looked worse. You wouldn't know he'd endured something so brutal. Unless of course you could see him walking, or moreorless stumbling along. Okay so there were the few fading bruises on his chest, arms, and legs... maybe even a little more than a few…but hey, they would heal. It's that depressing sickly feeling, that 'disgusted with yourself, even though it wasn't your fault' kind of feeling that will always be there. He pulls himself away from the mirror. He wants to get back in the bath and forget, but he
doesn't want to take too long. He doesn't want to seem like he doesn't appreciate everything Mikey has given him. Finishing with the towel, he grabs for the clothes Mikey left resting upon the bar on the door.

"Hey, I'm making Macaroni and cheese" Mikey smiles enthusiastically.. a kind of innocent smile.

Shawn smiles back. Mikey seems like a kid. In a way, he still is, but compared with Shawn, he wasn't. Maybe he hasn't had too much company before and is excited at the thought of not being alone in his usually isolated apartment. Shawn wishes he could just stay here for the rest of his life. Mikey is so friendly, so understanding. Of course - because he knows about Shawn, he knows what it feels like. There aren't any people Shawn knows who are like that.

He can't stay here forever though. He knows Cory cares; Cory's family too. They'd probably try to find him. Then they'd find out what happened, but unlike Mikey, they wouldn't understand. He can imagine a look of sympathy in their eyes. A look of sympathy and disappointment at the same time. 'How could you let him do that to you Shawn?' They wouldn't say it, but he'd feel it either way. He can't let that happen.

"I wish I could stay here forever," he says aloud, not noticing Mikey behind him.

He doesn't know why he keeps saying things out loud. Maybe he thinks, if he says these things out loud they might come true.

"I wish you could too," Mikey cuts in, startling Shawn.

He soon thinks about how that sounds and then tries to rephrase it.

"Well, you know, I get really lonely here, it's nice to actually have someone to erm, talk to...You know what you said about not being into sex, well..."

Mikey waves raises his eyebrows.

"...I'm not too much into it either... I don't even know what all the hype is about it anyway. Sex can be bad too, well i suppose that's rape, but even consented... well just sex can be evil... well... not that sex is evil, I mean if two people love each other then or even like each other I guess, then it's okay, just when...well ya know..." he stops realising he is mumbling and making no sense at all and that the subject isn't such a good one.

Shawn's face is now a mixture of pure amusement and embarrassment.

"Erm, yeah, I'm sorry - I tend to get carried away. Probably comes with spending so much time having conversations with myself... Yeah." He stops talking and sits back biting his lip nervously.

Shawn smirks. "It's okay. You're a kid, just like me. We get lonely, just cause we need a friend doesn't mean we want a relationship with someone, I mean I'm straight, you?"

"Yeah, yup I'm straight" Mikey states.

"What time is it?" Shawn asks for the third time that night.

"It's actually five in the morning, oh man we should probably get some sleep, I know I really should...you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

"No, no…I couldn't throw you out of your own bed" Shawn objects.

"Look, after what you've been through, you need to sleep in a proper bed, plus I wont take no for an answer"

Shawn sighs, wincing as he reaches over for the macaroni and cheese. It's quite delicious. The last time he'd had a proper hot meal had been when he stayed for tea at Cory's about 2 weeks ago.

"Look, you can sleep in all day tomorrow, ya know, get all your energy back."

Shawn looks up at Mikey.

"How am I ever gonna repay you?" he asks, a lightly serious expression on his face.

"By recoverin' and getting on with life…better than I did, by getting away from what's bothering you" he smiles, but his eyes tell a different story.

"Thank you, so much. You know I wont forget this right?" Shawn begins.

He can feel his eyes wet with tiny salty droplets, but they aren't tears of sadness or fear, they're tears of thanks. They are tears which say, 'look what you've done for me, you've been helped me so much that I'm actually crying tears of other than tears of pain of sadness'.

"...Just...Thanks" he finishes.

He can say no more than that. He is so overwhelmed. He hasn't eaten for about ten hours so you'd think he'd be quite hungry, but he just takes one more mouthful of macaroni and cheese and asks if he can go to sleep now.

"Sure, you don't need my permission for everything you know," Mikey replies. He lets lose a small laugh and tells him he'll clear the plates and everything up and that the sheets are newly cleaned and fresh.

As Shawn lays his head upon the feathered pillow, he smiles. He pushes the pain and suffering and all the bad memories to the back of his mind. For now he feels safe. For now, he doesn't feel scared or alone. He doesn't feel unwanted or pathetic. For now he feels safe. Nothing else should matter.

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Hey well I've finally finished this chapter, hope you liked it, review if you want, would be helpful... Cya for now, Cesca, x