Disclaimer: I don't own Boy Meets World.

A/N: I'm sorry for the long delay. I didn't mean to make any of you wait so long. All I can say is that my schedule got crazy for a while and I hit a major case of writers block for this chapter.

Chapter 6

"I want you to read chapters five through eight for tomorrow. We'll be answering discussion questions in groups," John said.

"Uh, Mr. Turner," Cory spoke up, "you already said that at the beginning of class."

John paused. He did? The fog that had settled in his brain last night still hadn't left. He had no idea what was going on with him, but this wasn't good. "I just wanted to make sure anyone not paying attention the first time got it this time, okay?" he tried to recover. From the skeptical looks he got from his students, he doubted it worked very well.

The bell rang. All but four students left in a rush.

"Are you okay, Mr. Turner?" Topanga asked, still sitting in her seat.

John looked over the worried faces of Shawn, Cory, Topanga, and Dani. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just having an off day." Make that a really off day. He had been repeating himself a lot. Most of the students didn't care—if they were even paying enough attention to notice, that is—but these four had become more than just his students. He had looked out for Shawn, Cory, and Topanga more than most even beforehand—in large part owing to being Shawn's legal guardian—but the island obliterated any other student-teacher lines that still may have existed. The fact they still just sat there looking at him after his assurance was more proof of that. "Go on. Go to your next class. Really, I'm okay."

The four students slowly rose from their seats, grabbed their books and bags, and left the classroom, shooting more worried looks back his way.

John waited until they were out of the room and out of sight before he went back to sit at his desk. He put his head in his hands. What was going on? What was wrong with him?

"Word around school is you're going senile."

John looked up towards the door. George Feeny walked toward his desk. There was no amusement on his face. Just concern.

"Yeah," John said in a clipped tone. "It's probably nothing. Just a phase. It'll go away."

"Really, now?" The older man didn't sound convinced. "You sure about that?"

"I don't know," John admitted. "I hope so."

"Do you have a lot on your mind or . . . is it something else?"

"I don't know." John sighed. "I don't know what happened. Last night I was apparently in the middle of a conversation and I just completely blanked. I couldn't remember what we were talking about. I couldn't remember much from that day—period. I've been walking around in a fog ever since. It's like the more I try to piece together what I forgot and—you know—panic because I can't, the worse it is."

George frowned. "It may be partly psychosomatic. It's worse now because you're worrying about it so much, but even so . . . that doesn't sound good. Take the rest of the day off. I'll make sure your classes are covered. Go see a doctor."

"Really, George. I'll be fine. I think. Anyways, I'd rather wait it out. See if it sorts itself out, you know?"

"I wouldn't wait too long. It could get worse just as easily. The sooner you seek professional help, the less long term damage there could be."

John rubbed his eyes. "One more day can't hurt too much more."

"I hope for your sake you're right."

John sighed. "I hope so, too."

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Jack glanced up from his homework when he heard his apartment door open. It was that curly headed spaz. "Eric, your brother's here," he yelled.

"I'm not here to see Eric. I wanted to talk to you," Cory said. His tone was pretty serious.

"Me?" Jack asked. "What for?"

"Oh, hey, Cor," Eric's voice drifted from behind him. Jack heard his quick footsteps coming down from the second landing.

"Hey, Eric," Cory said offhand. "Now, Jack, if I'm understanding this right, you have a half-brother you haven't seen in—like—ever. You've found him and you're not even doing anything to get to know him? How does that make sense? I mean really, if I had a long-lost brother I was reunited with, I'm pretty sure I would want to get to know him."

"He doesn't want anything to do with me," Jack said, looking away. "I've chosen to respect that."

Cory scoffed. "I know that's what he says, but I know Shawn. He's been dealt a crappy hand when it comes to family, and I know what he wants more than just about anything is to have a family that cares. His parents are off who knows where. His other half-brother Eddie is a piece of work. If he's not in jail yet, he's on his way to be. The rest of his family is sometimes around, sometimes not. They take off without saying anything to one another and often also end up in jail. You're the first real family he has that is actually on the right side of the law and—I think—possibly dependable, and you're gonna flake out on him too?"

"He made it pretty clear how he felt about me. Even if he does need family, I don't think I'm the family he needs." Jack went back to his homework. Maybe if it seemed he wasn't paying attention anymore, Cory would drop it and leave.

"You know, you're just like Shawn. You're just as stubborn and just as ready to give up on something that could be great for both of you without even trying."

Jack looked up just as Cory walked back out the door. He stared at the door for a few seconds after the guy closed it again. He looked back at his calculus homework and tapped his pencil on the page. Cory couldn't possibly know what was best for them. Only they would know what was best for them, but . . . .

He had homework to do. Three pages worth of math problems that were all due for his next class in a couple days on top of the other mounds of homework he had.

Cory was right about one thing, though. He did want to take this chance to get to know his younger brother. He always had wanted to know him. There just had never been a chance to do so before. But Shawn made it clear. It was best he continue to respect that, even if he didn't really want to.

The couch dipped down when Eric sat next to him. Huh. He forgot his roommate was in the room.

"Cory and I shared a room for over sixteen years," Eric said. "You have no idea how many times I wished I had a room all to myself. I mean, he was always there. He was there when I went to sleep. He was there when I woke up. He was there on the rare occasions I was actually trying to do homework and study, but of course he wanted to play video games. Rounds upon rounds of fights on Street Fighter or Mortal Combat. Countless games of Madden Football. It's no wonder I could never get myself to focus and get anything done. Don't even get me started on when he wanted to go to baseball games with me when I was trying to take a girl." He patted Jack on the back. "You're lucky, man. You never had to deal with any of that."

"Yeah, but there had to be good times. I mean, you have a brother. I've always wondered what that would be like," Jack said.

Eric smiled at him. It wasn't that fake cheesy grin, but a softer genuine one. "Then why don't you take this chance to find out?"

Jack frowned. He really did want to, but . . . no, he couldn't. Wait a minute. Did Eric just try to use reverse psychology on him? Did Eric even know what reverse psychology was?

"I know you want to respect Shawn's wishes," Eric continued, "but part of being a brother sometimes is ignoring what your sibling tells you to do and doing what you think is right anyways. And, of course—you know—sometimes failing, like a lot of the time, but . . . ." He shrugged. "Sometimes you get it right, and it makes up for the failures." He started back towards the steps up to the second landing. "Just think about it."

Jack looked back down at his calculus book and notebook, staring blankly at the pages. He never in a million years would ever think he would say this, but Eric seemed to actually make sense. A few agitated pencil taps later, he stood up and walked over to the cordless phone. "Hey, Eric, what's your home phone number?"

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Jack stood with his fist raised in front of the apartment door. Should he do this?

He had hopped in his car and drove over there as soon as he got off the phone. Looking down at the address and apartment number he had written down on scrap paper confirmed yet again he had the right place.

This was ridiculous. How hard was it to knock on a door? He'd done it like a million times before.

His arm was getting tired when he still just kept holding it suspended in front of the door.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.

He lowered his hand and turned away from the door.

If he walked away, he may never get up the guts to do this again and he doubted Shawn would ever approach him. He better be sure he wanted to be like all the other biological family in Shawn's life before he took another step away.

He made a purposeful about-face and three quick knocks on the door. Then he let out the breath he'd unknowingly been holding. That wasn't so hard. Now all he had to do was wait.

The door opened in front of him. He met Shawn's gaze and inwardly cringed when his brother's expression instantly turned dark with anger. Jack stuck his arm out just in time to keep Shawn from slamming the door in his face. "I just want to talk."

"Well, I don't want to, so go away," Shawn said.

Jack shoved against the door his brother tried to close on him again. Once it was open enough, he shouldered his way in enough that Shawn couldn't close it on him.

"We're brothers. I want to get to know you. I've always wondered what it would be like to have a brother and I don't want to give up the chance now that we've met."

"You should have thought about that years ago. How do I know you've changed?"

Jack's eyebrows scrunched together. "What are you talking about?"

"I wanted to get to know you too, but you ignored my letters. Every single one. I don't even know how many I sent before I finally gave up. So please just leave." Shawn stepped forward. Jack instinctively stepped backwards, unfortunately backing out of the doorway as he did. "I've had it with family members acting like they care and are different and actually want to stay but don't. Hunters aren't reliable. You're no different than the rest of us."

Shawn sent letters? "I never got any letters," he said, confused. The door slammed in his face before he even finished talking. He would have remembered it if he got letters. He would have written back. If he knew his brother was interested in knowing him, he would have reciprocated. Why didn't the letters ever reach him?

Then it dawned on him. His mother always tried to change the subject anytime the subject of his dad—his real dad—came up, and of course Shawn would be lumped in with anything involving Chet. Yeah, he did eventually learn why his mom left his dad. He understood better then, but still . . . . Shawn wasn't their dad. Why would his mom keep the letters from him?

##

John watched as Shawn practically stomped his way to his room. He knew family was a touchy subject for the kid. It was strange he never thought to share he had yet another half-brother, though. He only even knew about Eddie because of the birthday video the kid made for his father.

He was walking over to his kid's room before he even realized he decided to talk to him about it. Shawn had been writing in his journal obsessively lately. He thought before that it was all because of what happened on the island. Now he had to wonder.

"Shawn?" he called after lightly knocking on the teen's doorframe.

The teen ran his hand through his hair before meeting his gaze. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"You have another brother? Why didn't you tell me?"

Shawn shrugged. "The subject never came up. Besides, what difference does it make? He was never around. I didn't even meet him until last week."

"But he is here now. Why are you pushing him away?" He walked into the room further and sat down on the bed next to the kid. "Shawn, he's family and he's here and he genuinely seems to want to get to know you. Don't you think he deserves a chance?"

"The letters—"

"That he said he never got."

For the first time in the conversation, Shawn looked a little unsure of himself. "He was probably lying."

"What if he wasn't?" John gently suggested. He could almost see the internal debate going on in the kid's head when his eyes seemed to glaze over slightly. The rest was up to Shawn. Any more pushing on this subject would do more harm than good. "Is this what you've been writing about so much lately?" he couldn't help but ask.

Shawn's eyes cleared again and he stared down at his clasped hands. "Some of it. The rest of it . . . ."

"The island and everything?" John filled in after the kid trailed off.

Shawn nodded. "It helps to write about it. I don't have as many nightmares and the ones I do have aren't as bad."

John felt a sense of déjà vu as he dismissed the idea of taking Shawn to go see a counselor. He didn't remember considering that before, but the thought process seemed really familiar. He shook his head. Professional help was out of the question since Shawn wouldn't be able to talk about a lot of what he most likely needed to talk about. There were other options, though. "You know, I'm always here. Maybe talking about it will help, too."

The kid gave a really weak one-shoulder shrug.

"I know I didn't have to deal with all of what you did—most of us didn't—but remember, you're not the only one who had a lot to work through after that. You're not alone with this, okay?" John said.

Shawn gave a slightly more convincing nod.

That would have to do for now. He left the room to give the teen time to work through his thoughts on the matter. It wasn't until he was already through the door that he realized the fog that had settled in his mind the previous day was gone. He thought back to the other day. He could remember most of it. There was still a distinct blank in his memory right before the fog and everything started. Other than that, he felt back to normal.

George must have been right about his obsessive worrying making it worse. It seemed all he needed was to focus on something else for a while. Thankfully George had been wrong about needing to go see a doctor. Now John just had to hope no other incidents like that happened and he would be good.