Boone was very withdrawn for several days after returning home. Andrew and Shannon were both overwrought with concern about him, casting glances at each other and guiltily carrying on silent conversations, sharing their worry. He quietly and efficiently had everything replaced and repaired as needed, not rebuking either one of them. They sensed his disappointment in them, but he never voiced it. He rarely spoke, seeming lost in his thoughts. Any thought of intimacy was pointless, he sent her to bed alone, sitting up by himself well into the night, and getting up before she awoke in the morning. She actually considered that he never came to bed at all, after rousing herself from sleep at odd hours and realizing that she was still alone. She searched for him with her thoughts, locating him in the kitchen, wandering down there once, she found him sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of him. He only smiled distractedly at her and told her to go back to bed. Boone kept his thoughts carefully blocked from both of them, and seemed completely oblivious to the anxiety he was causing them. Shannon had considered reading him while he was sleeping, when she could actually catch him doing that, but even she couldn't bring herself to cross that moral barrier and invade his privacy so cruelly. Andrew had cried when Boone had given him his new bicycle, uncharacteristically calling him 'daddy' when thanking him, but Boone hadn't even noticed, he just smiled in an offhanded manner before moving on to the next task.
Shannon had gone to bed on the third night after finally deciding to confront him the next day. When she woke up in morning, she was surprised to find him still in the bed beside her. He was lying flat on his back staring at the ceiling. "Hey," she greeted him softly, propping her head up on her elbow.
He flicked his gaze briefly in her direction, and smiled faintly. Boone seemed to come to some kind of decision and spoke. "Shannon," he paused to consider his words, "did you ever want kids? We've never even talked about it, because, really, we didn't have a choice, it was pointless, you were already pregnant when we crashed, and three months gone before I even knew of it. I know when we were growing up we'd be somewhere together and some kid would start squalling and you'd say, "I'm never having kids," and then the next day you'd contradict yourself saying, "When I have kids I'm having two, a daughter just like me, and a son, nothing like you." He breathed a small laugh at the memory. "But I never asked you what you really wanted."
"This is about me leaving him that morning isn't it?" She realized that this was what he'd been thinking about for the last three days.
"Partly," he rolled his head to the side to look at her. "Answer me." He bit his bottom lip, waiting for her reply.
Shannon closed her eyes as she admitted, "No."
"I didn't think so. But now you've got one." He stated.
"And I love him, Boone, I do. I was stupid that day, and, god help me, it won't happen again." She assured him.
"No, it won't." he shook his head.
Her eyes widened as she got his deeper meaning. "You're not going to leave me alone with him again, are you?"
"I can't Shan. Nothing bad happened to him this time, but what about next time?" he looked resigned. "I can't take the chance. It's my own fault, really. You were pretty clear about not feeling you were prepared to take care of him. I guess I just wasn't listening, or thought you were just trying to get out of it, I should have taken you seriously."
"Are…are you going to ask me to…" she felt the tears form, "leave?"
"No, I need you here, you know how much I love you, god help me, though I did, briefly, consider it," he went back to staring at the ceiling. "And," he shrugged, "I don't know, in a way I think you're good for him. You seem to bring out his 'inner Shannon.' The shit he pulled with just the two of you here, he'd never even have considered if I was around, I think it's good for him to let loose a bit and be just a nine-year old boy, instead of the intense and serious child I was."
A sob escaped her, though she still managed to keep herself from actually crying, he sounded so broken again.
Boone looked back at her, "I'm not a strong man, you know that, Shannon. The responsibility I've had to shoulder alone, I thought I could share when you came back. But it doesn't look like I can; I've been wrestling with that, among other things, over the last few days. I know I've put you guys through hell, but I didn't know how else to deal with it. I needed to work it through."
She was still near tears, struggling with how badly she'd let him down, disappointing him to such an incredible degree. It wasn't just his words that were upsetting her; it was his tone, so defeated, so resigned to settling for so much less than he'd hoped for.
She suddenly started to look at it from a different angle, as something occurred to her, a spark suddenly igniting inside her.
"You should have talked to me. You can't decide three peoples' futures all on your own. Since when is it all up to you? Christ Boone, for once I think you've managed to pull off selfish, I'd never have thought it of you." Shannon sat up, crossing her legs, and faced him. "How about the whole 'We're his parents,' speech you made me listen to. This time I think you've forgotten the 'we' part. Yeah, I fucked up, big time, but I'm new at this. Just because I didn't think I wanted kids when I was growing up doesn't mean that I'm not devoted to the one I've got. Have you even bothered to ask either of us what we want? Do you know how close we became while you were gone? My idea of parenting may be different than yours, and my relationship with him so far out of left field it'd make child psychologists run for the liquor cabinet." She paused to laugh, "I actually gave him props for being brought home by the cops, but he's my son, and I'm his mom and we're both cool with that. You have no idea how the rest of the day I forgot him went, well except for the whole lawn mower thing. We made dinner together, we played cards," now she started crying. "We fell asleep on the couch together, watching some shitty movie." She covered her face with her hands sobbing without restraint. "He told me he loved me." She forced the words out, her breath hitching at her attempt.
He sat up and gathered her into his arms. How could I have been so stupid, he wondered? He held her until her crying subsided, stroking her hair and rocking back and forth, shushing her quietly. She pulled back and looked at him, "I'm not some empty headed twenty-year old princess any more, Boone. You need to talk to me, I'm an adult too."
"You're amazing, you know that? And once again I'm an idiot. I'm so used to handling everything on my own, here I am complaining that I can't share responsibility with you, then I go and shut you out." Boone shook his head.
The melancholy look had left his eyes, she noted. "Can we talk now?" she asked. He nodded…and so they did.
Things were better after that. Boone perked up and paid attention, and the three of them did more things together as a family. Boone watched how she was with Andrew, more his friend than a parent, but the boy still seemed to respect her and listened to her when she gave him guidance, almost as if she was his mentor, or one of the cool kids at school. For serious things Andrew came directly to him, for fun stuff, he went to Shannon. They tried their best to co-ordinate how they were dealing with him, and for the most part, it worked.
Claire called at the beginning of August remembering her promise to Andrew that he could come and spend a week. They were headed for the city now, a backpack strapped onto the luggage rack of each bike. Pulling up in front of the Pace residence, Andrew squirmed off Boone's bike before he even had it turned off, taking off his helmet and thrusting it at his father, he ran up the front steps. Just as he was about to ring the bell, the door flew open.
"Back soon luv," Charlie was looking back over his shoulder and almost ran the boy over in his haste. "Andrew." He frowned before remembering. "You're coming for the week aren't you?" he grinned, seeming proud of himself for recalling that fact.
"Yeah, Charlie, where's Aaron?" Andrew asked.
"Uh, back yard, yeah, back yard, with Sarah." He was clearly preoccupied. Andrew darted past him.
"Charlie." Boone greeted.
"Mate, good to see you," Charlie pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back. He looked over Boone's shoulder at Shannon.
"Shannon." He stepped back from Boone, but didn't offer her a hug.
"Charlie." She smiled tentatively.
"Well, yeah, so I've got this thing, and I have to go, I'm late really, it's a record label thing, got to dash, maybe you'll be here when I get back…sorry." He rushed past them, got in his car, and drove away.
"He never changes." Shannon observed. "Claire must have the patience of a saint."
"And then some," came the reply from the inside the door.
They turned; Claire was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head at her husband's abrupt departure.
"Boone." She held her arms open and hugged him to her, resting her head on his shoulder. He seemed to sag into her as he slid his arms around her. They remained that way for several seconds. When he moved to pull away she tightened her grip for a second before letting him go. She smiled up at him, 'I need to talk to you later, it's all good,' she laid the words at the front of her mind for him to read. He nodded.
"Shannon." Claire greeted, hugging her as well. Shannon was shocked, after their last phone conversation the last thing she expected was a warm greeting from Claire.
Claire regarded Boone, appraising him. "You look good. I see you've put on some weight finally.' She turned back to Shannon. "Your being back I guess, though I know his extra weight's not from any attempt by you at cooking, so it must be that he's happy."
They followed her into the house, dropping Andrews' things in the front hall, ending up in the kitchen. Claire opened the fridge door and handed Boone a beer. "Shannon, what can I get for you?"
"A glass of white wine would be great, thanks." She was still trying to figure out why Claire was being so nice to her.
Claire got two glasses from the cupboard, poured and handed one to Shannon. Claire smiled before asking, "You mind if I talk to your brother alone?" Though it was completely incongruous, all of their tightly knit group of survivors had continued to refer to them as brother and sister while still accepting them as a couple, once the true nature of their relationship had been explained.
Shannon shrugged in assent, and Claire led Boone out the back door, Shannon watched while she pulled a lawn chair up in front of him, their knees were touching as she reached out to grasp his hands in hers. He leaned in; their foreheads close together as they talked.
She felt uncomfortable watching them, and so wandered off to explore the house. They'd moved since she'd left so she'd never seen this place. Claire's touches were everywhere, there were Chinese symbols in the paintings on the walls, in the tchotchkes on the tables, there were mandalas in tapestries and, in the den, there was a painting sitting on the floor propped up against the wall. She experienced a feeling of familiarity. It was huge, a full sized picture of an ocean view from the perspective of a beach, the blue of the water meshing with the blue of the sky on the horizon, fluffy white clouds floated overhead, she recognized Michael's signature in the lower right hand corner, and reminisced to herself about the island for bit.
"Shannon," she heard Boone call, and made her way back to the kitchen. He smiled at her as if something subtle had changed; she narrowed her eyes, but didn't think that this was the time to pursue it.
"You want the fifty-cent tour?" Claire asked her.
"I kind of looked around on my own," she shrugged a little embarrassed. "There's a painting in the den, one of Michaels', it made me feel…"
"Kind of homesick." They both said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed at the unintentional echoing of each others' words.
She smiled at them, "Yeah, crazy isn't it?"
Claire looked at Boone, reaching up to lay a hand on his cheek. "No, it's not crazy; it makes me feel the same way."
"Not crazy at all, not all the island memories are bad," he agreed, brushing the back of his hand over her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.
"You guys want to get a room?" she looked at them suspiciously, her eyebrows furrowed. Boone wouldn't, would he? No, he said he'd had no sexual partners but her. And Claire, no way, that was just absurd.
Neither of them seemed the slightest bit embarrassed by their display of affection. Shannon realized how stupid her musing was, if there were something more than friendship between them, would they honestly have shown it so blatantly in front of her?
Boone laughed, "Sorry hon, I was just remembering. Claire helped me through some bad stuff, some of the worst stuff. In some ways we're closer to brother and sister than you and I ever were. I almost feel I owe her my life," he explained.
"And I feel that I owe you Aaron's, it was a debt well paid." Claire squeezed his arm. "I still see a lot more of you in him, than Thomas, his personality, I mean."
Shannon suddenly remembered what else had happened the night he died, and recalled the odd nature of the bond he shared with the small blonde Australian woman, and her son. He'd told her about it years ago, how he'd felt as if a part of him had torn loose and flowed into the child, and, guessing from Claire's comment, he'd also discussed what he'd experienced with her. Even before she left, they'd always been close; it had obviously been intensified by the significance of the support Claire had given him during his breakdown.
"I'd like to see him before we go, Sarah too, of course." He picked up his beer, sipping at it. "You got his whole 'island ability thing' under control any better?"
"Yeah, it's been months since he turned to some poor soul at the supermarket and told them what was going to happen to them next week." She laughed. "Poor Sarah and Charlie, half the time they don't know what to make of us. Sarah calls the two of them muggles."
When they both shrugged and shook their heads at the reference, she explained. "It's a Harry Potter thing, non-magical people are muggles. She's just recently discovered the books, so we read them together at night. I always loved Harry Potter, so it's no hardship, actually it's fun revisiting that whole world through her eyes."
"Maybe I should read with Andrew at night." Shannon bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning and watched for Boone's reaction.
"Yeah, I'm sure he'd love Cosmo and Glamour, Shan." He raised his eyebrows at her as he smirked.
After visiting with Claire and her children for the rest of the afternoon, they kissed Andrew goodbye and headed the bikes for home, stopping for gas a few miles down the road. After he got back from paying she turned to him. "Claire was awfully nice to me, considering what she had to say the last time we talked. You want to enlighten me? What did she tell you in the backyard, care to fill me in?"
"Just what she thought my future held in store, she got a read on me when we first got there. What she said was all good, I don't want to go into it, but she feels good about you coming back. That's why her change in attitude." Boone didn't add that what she had told him filled him with such hope, that he was irrationally afraid to believe her. "Come on, let's get home, I want to start showing you some things on the computer tomorrow, I think it's time to share some of the responsibility for the business with you, after all half of it's yours. I want us to get a good night's sleep tonight."
"We've got the house to ourselves again," Shannon grinned at him. "So I hope sleep isn't the only thing you're planning on getting tonight." He blushed red, looking toward the open window of the car parked at the adjoining pump. The woman in the passenger seat had obviously overheard and was trying to hide her smile.
He couldn't get his bike back on the road fast enough.