Disclaimer: I don't own Boy Meets World. Also, any dialogue you recognize from the episode 4.21 - "Cult Fiction" belongs to Michael Jacobs, April Kelly, and Jeff Menell, the credited writers for that episode according to imdb.

A/N: The following format is used for dialogue in this and future chapters:

"Spoken"

Thought

'Telepathically spoken'

Chapter 10

'So, you're telepathic, huh?' Shawn thought, trying to see if Dani would hear it.

Shawn just barely stopped himself from jumping when he heard her positive answer in his head. That was going to take some getting used to.

'Don't worry,' she said—thought—telepathically projected—whatever . . . . 'I don't usually make a habit of listening in on people's thoughts. It's bad enough dealing with my own. Having others' thoughts going through my head like it's stuck between a bunch of radio stations or something is kind of annoying . . . and a little creepy.'

It was dark in there. The only light they had to go by was a couple of flashlights. Their captors at least gave them each one to carry, but even four flashlights could only do so much in a stone building without any windows.

'I've set up a telepathic link for now so we can talk without dumb and dumber overhearing,' Dani said. 'My mental shields are still up, just lowered so we can talk like this. Any thoughts you don't want me to hear, just keep them in the background—kind of almost like whispering, except in your mind, if that makes sense.'

'Kind of, I guess.' Shawn's eyes darted around at everything around them. He'd seen all those Indiana Jones movies and other stuff. If this place was anything like those types of stories, one wrong move could set something off. There was a stone on the ground that seemed to stick up just a little bit more than the others. He stepped around it, just in case.

His foot sunk in the ground where he stepped to the side of the raised rock. 'That can't be good.'

Flames shot out of the wall. They switched direction inches from him—hit the rock wall to the side.

He barely even registered the scorching heat, it all happened so fast.

Shawn closed his eyes. His heart raced. His breath came in and out in gasps. Something hard and cool jabbed him in the back.

"Get moving, kid," a gravelly voice said from behind him.

Shawn shook his head. He couldn't—he wouldn't—he didn't want to die here.

'Back home, where's your favorite place to hang out?' Dani asked.

'What?' Now really didn't seem like the time for small talk.

'Just humor me.'

"I said move it, kid." The gun jabbed harder in his back.

"Just give him a minute," Dani's harsh command rang out at them. 'So, your favorite hangout place?'

'It's . . . uh . . . it's C-Cory's house, I guess.'

'You two been friends for a while?'

'Seems like forever.'

'So what do you like about it?'

'I-I-I guess it's just—I don't know—it's been kind of like a-a second home. Anytime I got in t-trouble, that's where I'd run. It's just so homey there. And Cory's my best bud. So, I guess it just reminds me of our friendship and the life I used to sometimes wish I had.'

'Feel better?'

He was breathing easier—much easier—the slow, even, steady breaths that usually were so natural. His heart was still pounding, but not as bad. He cracked open his eyes. He was still in that stupid cave-temple place. Temple of Doom would be a good name for it, if it wasn't for the fact it was already taken. 'Yeah,' he said.

'Good. Hold onto that feeling.'

Shawn took a deep breath then a cautious step forward. Nothing happened, thank God. Each extra step forward was a little easier than the last, but still nerve wracking as hell. The gun was removed from his back. He wasn't naïve enough to think it wasn't still pointed at him, though.

He just had to keep thinking about home—about Cory's house, his and John's apartment, Chubbie's, and—strangely enough—John Adams High, even. It seemed to help him keep his panic at bay for now. He swallowed down the rest of his fear, held his head up high, and kept walking.

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Cory held Topanga close and leaned his head against hers, taking small comfort in losing himself in her long beautiful hair while she buried her face in his chest. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe everything was okay—that the world hadn't tilted on its axis and threatened almost everyone he cared about.

His eyes drifted over to the ancient doorway that had claimed his best friend and his new friend. What would dream-Feeny—or better yet, real Feeny—say about this one? What could possibly make all of this okay? He closed his eyes again and willed the familiar voice to fill his head with advice that always seemed to come so naturally from the man he was coming to view as more than just his teacher and mentor. If there's one thing he got from this mess that was currently his life, it was a greater appreciation for that man.

It was no use, though. He couldn't still his worries enough to drift off, too afraid that if he did, he'd wake up to find himself alone. He couldn't even daydream a conversation with the man. Everything was so screwed up and so out there compared to anything he was used to that he couldn't even imagine how that conversation would start.

"Cory?" Topanga whispered.

He gave a soft hum in response.

"I'm scared," she said.

"Me too."

He felt her snuggle in even closer. He held her even tighter.

"If Shawn doesn't . . ." Topanga said.

Cory squeezed his eyes shut, willing this conversation to not be happening.

Topanga pulled away from his chest. He reopened his eyes to look at her. Her gaze was fearful and intense. "If I have to go in there before you, and I don't make it, I want you to promise me you will—"

"No. That's not going to happen. We'll be fine. Everything will go back to normal. We'll grow up, get married, have kids—the whole shebang, whether here or back in Philly—we are not going to—"

"Cory." Topanga's voice was sharp, her eyes pleading.

Cory fought back the tears that threatened to pool in his eyes. "If you have to go in there, I'm going with you."

He met Topanga's searching gaze. For a moment, he was sure she would argue with him, but she just rested her head against his chest again. "I'll do the same if you have to go first. Whatever time we both have left, I want to spend it with you."

Cory's vision got blurry. He blinked like crazy to clear it and tried to ignore the wet trails he felt quickly forming on his cheeks. "Okay then," he said, not having the heart to argue with her when she had already agreed with him. "Together forever, for whatever time we have." He cleared his throat so he could speak around the lump lodged there. "So what do you think? Should we make it official? Get married now?"

"Cory, we can't. There's no minister or judge or anything."

"Who cares? If this really is it, I don't want to go without marrying you."

"What if we do somehow manage to survive this? What then?"

"Then we'll consider this our engagement vows and wait until we're old enough that our parents won't kill us for even thinking about it yet to hold a real wedding." He glanced over at his parents. They just looked on with sad smiles of their own.

"Alright," Topanga said, sniffling a little. "Yes, Cory, I will marry you."

His heart fluttered in his chest at those words. He hoped he could hear them again later in life for real, and he hoped they made him just as happy then—maybe even more so—than they did now. "Do you, Topanga, take me, Cory, as your husband in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in crazy times stuck in impossible situations on deserted islands or back home in Philly, when everything's great and when I inevitably drive you nuts . . . ." He smiled when Topanga let out a watery chuckle. "For as long as we both shall live?"

There was another little sniffle. "I do." Even more sniffles followed that statement, not all of them from Topanga. "And do you, Cory, take me, Topanga, as your wife in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in good times and in bad for as long as we both shall live?"

"I do."

Cory met Topanga's watery smile with his own when she looked up at him. They shared a kiss filled with love and desperation. In that moment, everything melted away around them. All that was left was Cory and Topanga and the life they would always have together no matter what came their way.

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Shawn didn't know how much longer they kept walking after the . . . uh, incident. He had a feeling it wasn't for nearly as long as it seemed. It was like time was moving at a crawl. It didn't help that he was so hyper-aware of everything around him and just how much could go wrong—and how quickly it could happen, too. He dimly wondered if this is what it was like for Dani when those bad feelings she admitted she got sometimes kicked in. This really sucked. He didn't envy her at all, if it was. No wonder she got so jumpy.

Other than a couple times where Dani just told him to step over or around something—which he did without question—nothing more had really happened. He wondered if it would be too much to hope that they were already past the worst of it.

They came upon a wall of doors. There were pillars holding stone bowls between each one. Shawn jumped when flames sprouted up out of the bowls, effectively lighting the area. That was when he saw the woman guarding the doors.

She had long, flowing platinum blond hair and piercing black eyes. The grey dress or robe—drapes almost seemed to be a better description—she wore stopped just above her bare feet. The most distinct feature about her, though, aside from her pale—almost porcelain-looking—face, was that she didn't appear to even be solid.

'Stay behind me, Shawn,' Dani said, walking forward to block him from that woman.

Shawn swallowed hard. 'You think she's dangerous?'

'I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances.'

"Welcome, travelers," the being said in a sultry tenor voice. "To turn back unharmed or to continue onward to face dangers of the mind, spirit, and flesh is the choice yet before you. Choose wisely."

"We ain't leaving till we got what we came for, lady," a rough voice came from behind him. He didn't recognize it, so it had to be from the other guy—the one with long, scraggly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Which door takes us to the urn?"

"All roads lead to the same end. Watch your step no matter your choice—whether slithering foes poised to attack at sudden movement; ground that will sink beneath you and trap you, leaving you prey to other dangers should you not find a way to free yourself; or a room no light can penetrate, no matter how bright or even unnatural, where one misstep may lead to an unending fall. Three doors there are. Three perils beyond."

"Which door is which?" Dani asked.

The being seemed to focus in on Dani. She moved forward in a slow fluid movement, her transparent nature becoming more obvious while she did. She stopped right in front of Dani.

Shawn resisted the urge to pull his friend back. The being was see-through, so that meant she also wasn't solid, right? And that she couldn't hurt them, he hoped.

"Protector, why seek such a terrible treasure?" The being cocked her head to the side and really seemed to study Dani. Her eyes gleamed and she gave a knowing smile after a few tense moments. "Your intentions are noble yet misguided. Save a few, only to risk condemning the world?" The being's eyes gazed over them all. A shiver went down Shawn's spine when her eyes locked with his. The moment passed when the being focused on Dani again. She began fading away. "If onward you must go, trust what your gift tells you." The next second, she was gone completely.

"What now?" Shawn asked.

Dani didn't say anything or even turn around to look at him. She just walked towards the doors and paused just before the left one, reaching out a hand. She touched the wood of the door and tensed for a few seconds before backing away from it. She went to the next one over and did the same thing, and again with the third and final door, each time seeming more hesitant than the last. She didn't move for a while—just stood there staring between the three doors.

"Well, freak, which is it?" Creepy Bald Goatee Guy asked.

She still didn't move.

'Dani?' Shawn prompted.

"Our best bet," she started, sounding a little unsure, "is this one."

They all made their way to the door on the far left. Ponytail guy shoved Dani aside while Creepy Goatee Guy pushed Shawn forward. Shawn reached out his hand. The doorknob felt surprisingly cool to the touch. What would happen when he opened it? He felt the gun shoved in his back again.

'It'll be okay,' he heard Dani's voice in his head again. 'Just take it slow, especially until we figure out what we're dealing with.'

Shawn turned the knob slowly. The door creaked as he gently pushed it inwards. Nothing immediately jumped out, so that was good. He went through the doorway. The first thing he noticed was he could still see. Light from their flashlights still shined through the dark of the building. The second thing he noticed was there were snakes everywhere—long ones with varying shades of brown and grey forming diamond patterns on their scales and rattles at the end of their tails.

His breath started coming in and out in gasps again. He stopped moving and closed his eyes. Cory's house. He had to think of Cory's house and of John and Cory and Topanga and the Matthews.

Something grabbed his shoulder.

Shawn jumped. His eyes snapped open. He frantically looked around.

'Relax, Shawn,' Dani said. 'It's just me.' He finally noticed she had her hand on his shoulder.

The other guys looked just as freaked out. Thank God. They were leaving him be for now.

He closed his eyes again and just focused on trying to calm down. The reassuring hand on his shoulder helped, now that he knew what it was. He reopened his eyes after a few seconds. 'I'm okay.' The hand on his shoulder gave a little squeeze before pulling away.

The ground right in front of him was clear. He could take a few steps straight forward and be fine. The snakes around him seemed to be lazily coiled off to the side. He took a couple slow, easy steps, his flashlight beam constantly shining ahead and swinging slowly to each side to allow him to scan the area and be better prepared.

Each step, it was like he was walking on ice, trying to make sure he had his footing and wasn't going so fast that he would make a mistake and be screwed. Each step seemed to last an eternity. His breathing was thankfully still slow and steady, but his heart was pounding so hard he swore he could even hear it.

A snake slithered along the path ahead of him. He halted mid step to wait for it to pass. Right foot forward. Left foot forward. Right foot forward. Snake coiled ahead. The path was free to the right of it. Side step and forward again. A few steps more were fine. Snake straight ahead. He swung his flashlight beam to the right. That way wasn't good either. To the left. This seemed to be a popular spot for the snakes. He couldn't go back. Goons one and two wouldn't let him. There was a spot on the ground just beyond one of the snakes that was free. He would have to step over it. Shawn swallowed hard. He hesitantly lifted his right foot up high, almost like he were about to march, and stretched it out slowly. He lowered his foot down on the other side of the snake equally as slowly, shifted his weight to that one, then started the process with his left foot.

His chest was burning. Shawn's eyes widened. Did the snake just—?

No. He was okay. He just wasn't breathing. That's all it was. He hadn't realized he had stopped breathing. He just had to let the breath he was holding out.

He finally exhaled when both his feet were solidly on the ground beyond the snake.

The ground ahead seemed to be clear for a while now. He walked forward slowly and carefully.

A rattle sounded.

Shawn spun around. Dani and Goatee Guy were right behind him both fine and looking around like he was. Ponytail Guy stood straddling the snake Shawn had stepped over earlier. That snake's tail was rattling, getting more agitated by the second. Other snakes around picked up that warning battle cry. The sound got louder and louder.

Shawn's eyes locked with Dani's.

"Run," she said simply.

Shawn turned forward again and took off. His feet pounded off the ground. More and more rattles joined in. Shawn jumped and leaped and sprinted his way forward, vaguely aware of some snakes literally flying away from him as he went. 'Thanks.'

'You can thank me later,' Dani said.

A few shots rang out. The booming sound echoed throughout the stone room. Shawn flinched. They were just aiming at the snakes. That was a good thing—well, kind of. Good that they were aiming at, and hopefully hitting, the snakes rather than at him and Dani, but bad that they were just making the snakes angrier.

There was a wall up ahead—a solid rock wall that was blocking their way and just had to make things worse for them by trapping them in this hell-hole—wait, was that . . . ? Shawn tried to steady his flashlight and shine it where he thought he saw—

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.

'Dani, could you—?'

'Already on it.'

The door ahead swung open. Shawn stumbled through it and slammed himself against the wall beside it. The others were right behind him. Ponytail guy was the last one. He slammed the door the second he was through it.

Shawn slid down the wall until he was sitting with his back against it. He drew his knees against his chest and hugged them there. He was not cut out for this. What the hell? This was like the worst bad dream ever, except it was real even though it shouldn't be real.

Something cool and wet seemed to tickle his cheeks. He reached a hand up to swipe at it. The wet trail he felt was unmistakable. He hated crying. He hardly ever cried, but he couldn't even bring himself to care that he was.

He really, really, really hoped they somehow managed to get to that stupid freakin' urn thingy these guys wanted and get the hell out of here—not just because he wanted to make it out of this alive—which he did, he really, really did—but because he didn't want any of the others to have to go through this too. He didn't even want to think about any of them dealing with this shit.

If he couldn't pull it together, though, they would have to.

He wiped the rest of the tears off his face and uncurled himself from his protective little ball. There was a hand stretched out in front of him when he did. He looked further up to find Dani standing in front of him with a sympathetic look on her face. He took her outstretched hand and got up.

"You okay?" she asked.

He pushed the fear, the despair, and whatever other emotions were swirling around in him right now down. They were all replaced with this emptiness he had never really felt before. He thought he had. He used to feel empty inside—that's part of why he got taken in by The Center so easily—but not like this. Before it was like something was missing. Now he just didn't want to feel anything. He couldn't feel anything, because if he did, he couldn't keep going.

"Let's just get this over with," he said.

He didn't wait for any acknowledgement. He just walked on, knowing the others would follow.

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The Wilsons were sitting together, whispering heatedly about something. Alan watched them suspiciously. He had one arm around Amy and the other hand on Morgan's shoulder, but his attention was fully on that duo. Their captors weren't doing much right now. They all just alternated between walking around, glancing over at Alan and his family, and staring at the entrance in the hillside.

Other than their few comments back when the others first caught Alan and John, the Wilsons had kept pretty silent and left Alan and his family alone. He caught a few glares they sent Dani from time to time, but that was it. Now, though, they were up to something. He was sure of it.

He was as sure about that as he was that these men holding them captive had no intention of letting them live, artifact in their possession or not.

Cory and Topanga were still holding onto one another. They hadn't let one another go or even really moved much since their vows to one another. He couldn't really blame them. Anyone could tell how much those two loved one another, and in this situation where so much was uncertain . . . . Had Alan and Amy gone through something like this back before they got married, they probably would have done the same.

Eric's gaze appeared unfocused. He just sat there staring off, unmoving aside from occasionally running his hand through his hair.

John hadn't seemed to look away from the entrance in that hillside since the kids disappeared through it. The worry lines became more and more pronounced the longer they sat there and waited.

Alan tried not to think about it. The kids shouldn't be in there. No one should.

He unconsciously gave Morgan's shoulder a gentle squeeze at that thought. His daughter looked at him from where she was nestled between him and Amy. The fear, worry, and tears were unmistakable in her eyes. He tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Everything will be okay," he whispered. He just wished he could actually believe it himself.

"How?" Morgan asked, equally as soft.

Alan looked away from his daughter and met Amy's gaze. The look on her face was identical to Morgan's before she made an effort to smooth it out for the girl's sake. "Just have faith, honey," Amy said.

Morgan nodded before snuggling in even closer to them.

Alan swallowed hard and raised his eyes heavenward. God, he began. Please be with us and help us through this. Whatever happens, help us stay strong.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, before opening them and reaching his hand out to Eric. It took a moment for Eric to notice it. His son grabbed hold after only a short hesitation and then reached his other hand out to John. The others all started to catch on, and soon enough, they were all holding onto one another.

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Shawn's eyes stayed glued to the ground in front of him. He knew the snakes were probably all still behind them in that room, but he couldn't get himself to look up. It was like if he did look up, they would appear and he would get bit and be done for. Normally, he knew that would be ridiculous. In here, though, who knew?

"Are you centered, Shawn?"

That was a girl's voice. It wasn't Dani's, but it was really familiar. Shawn swung his flashlight around to find an almost too thin girl with chin-length brown hair and brown eyes. She had that empty look in her eyes that he used to see in the mirror. "Sherri? What are you doing here? How—?"

She just smiled and walked closer to him. "I live here, Shawn. We all do."

Talk about a major sense of déjà vu. "Uh, last I checked you lived back at The Center in Philadelphia, not in the cave from hell on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

She smiled. "That's funny."

"Yet, you're not laughing."

"Why would I laugh? Mr. Mac said laughter is a mask which denies the reality of a situation."

Was he dying? He'd heard about how people often had their lives flash before their eyes or something, but out of all his memories, why this one? And why was he so aware of it and actually a part of it?

Better yet, why weren't any of the others saying anything about this? He tore his gaze away from Sherri to find the others. Before his eyes could settle on any of them, though, he saw another familiar figure he really had no desire to ever see again. He was an older man with short dirty blond hair, wearing a black shirt and grey dress pants with a grey sports coat over top.

"Are you centered, Shawn?" Mr. Mac asked. He walked forward, arms outstretched as if ready to give a hug.

Shawn took a step back and held his free hand up in front of him in a stop gesture. "Stay away from me. I told you I was done with you and with being empty."

Mr. Mac stopped and gave a smile that he could now see for the patronizing thing it really was. "Are you really, Shawn? You're empty right now, Shawn. It doesn't have to be that way, Shawn."

This isn't real. Sherri and Mr. Mac were both back in Philadelphia where Shawn was supposed to be.

"What about fear, Shawn? Are you through with that or do you want the deep gnawing terror to continue?" Mr. Mac advanced on him again. So did Sherri.

"Just come back with us. You can leave here and be safe," Sherri said. "Nothing will hurt you."

This isn't real. They weren't real. They were as fake as those beliefs Mr. Mac tried to shove down his throat before.

"No one will judge you if you leave," Mr. Mac said, "but they will if you retrieve the urn. The whole world will judge you if you bring that back."

"Just come back with us to The Center. Nothing and no one will hurt you there. You can even bring your new friend, Dani. We would all accept her there. You two need to leave here. She will listen to you," Sherri said. "You need to leave, Shawn."

"You need to leave, Shawn, and take Dani with you," Mr. Mac said.

Shawn stared between the two of them. They kept walking towards him. He kept stepping back. They weren't real. They were just figments of his imagination. This place was driving him insane and he was hallucinating. His fear was projecting out as those two. That had to be it.

He finally was able to tear his gaze away from them to try and find the others. They seemed to all be dealing with their own struggles and were oblivious to his. He couldn't see anyone around the others, but they all seemed to be reacting as if there were people there—just like he was with Sherri and Mr. Mac. Shawn frowned. Could it be this place causing it? They were hallucinations. He was sure of it, but they were playing him. They weren't from his imagination. It seemed crazy, but they had to be just another trick this place tried to play on him and the others.

He turned back to his own hallucinations. They were still there—still coming towards him—still trying to convince him to leave and force Dani to as well.

"You're not real," he said, voice stronger than he felt. "Just leave me alone."

Just like that, they were gone. Shawn blinked a few times. Alright, then.

He looked over to Dani and goons number one and two. The goons both looked pissed. Goatee Guy was waving his gun around. Ponytail Guy was playing with the safety on his. Dani had a grim look on her face again and the faraway look in her eyes he was beginning to realize was her lost-in-thought and trying-to-decide-what-to-do look.

Shawn walked over to her. "Dani?" he said.

She looked over at him after only a few seconds. The grim look was still there, but she seemed to be back with him. It only took a few more seconds before she looked around for the others as well. She looked back over at him after she looked over the direction where goons one and two were locked in their own inner battles. She looked relieved. "Let's get out of here before dumb and dumber break free," she said. She walked back the way they had come from.

A small smile began to slowly form on Shawn's face. Did he dare to hope? Were they really getting out of here? Was it really over? He walked beside her without even missing a beat. Those images had said if they left, they wouldn't be harmed. Did that mean those traps only hit when people were going to get the urn and left them alone otherwise? He really hoped so.

Shawn matched Dani's quick pace. He couldn't help the almost giddy feeling that bubbled up at the thought of not having to deal with this place anymore. He didn't even have to force Dani to leave. She thought of it herself. Shawn frowned. Had he ever really thought of forcing her to leave? That's just what the fake Sherri and Mr. Mac were trying to convince him to do, but he didn't think he could force her if she didn't want to. Were those hallucinations still playing with him? No. He wanted to leave here the minute they stepped inside. He knew whether he went forward or back, the only way he could was with Dani. That's probably all the illusion was feeding off of.

He glanced over at Dani. The grim look she had before was gone, but her eyes still had a faraway glazed look. He couldn't help but wonder what she faced back there. She was always the strong one before—not that she wasn't now, or anything, but . . . . He didn't know. Something just seemed off about her.

A familiar click sounded—the one he really hated because it meant there was at least one gun around. He really hated those.

"No one is leaving here alive till we get the urn, comprende?"

Shawn and Dani both turned around with hands raised. Goatee Guy and Ponytail Guy were right there. Both had their guns pointed at him and Dani. He wished he had Dani's power. He wanted nothing more than to rip those stupid pieces of metal out of those stupid assholes' hands. Damn the consequences.