I don't own this, okey-dokey?

"Shawn!" A drunken Chet Hunter screamed at a cowering Shawn. "You good for nothing piece of trash." His words were slurred together. His hand came up. Shawn saw it and cowered, knowing what it meant but not even dreaming of getting out of range. That would make the beating all the worse. He muffled a scream as he felt a broken beer bottle cut his face. He nearly yelled when he felt his legs be taken out from underneath him, making him fall on the cold, hard wood. Making the air escape from his lungs. Then, he watched in horror as he saw the terrifying face of his father was replaced by the face of Jonathan Turner. Now, the trailer park had faded into the familiar scene of the apartment. John was chasing him, screaming about how he was failing classes, and how he wasn't "good enough" for anything. As John raised a hand to strike Shawn, he woke up, screaming and thrashing wildly.

Shawn didn't realize he had been screaming. He hadn't realized he had been sleeping. In his mind, he, Shawn, had been placed back to just hours ago. Really been in front of his father. It was Cory's frightened face that brought him back to reality.

"Shawn?"

Shawn flinched away from Cory's outstretched hands instinctively, then forced his body to relax. Still, after two minutes, he was still tense. Still shivering. Still back in that kitchen.

Shawn managed to look up into Cory's hurt face and felt the pangs of guilt that he knew would come. How many times had he put Cory through this? Too many times.

"You want to tell me about it?" Cory's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

Shawn shrugged and got off the couch, pacing the now empty room, ignoring the rods of pain that seemed to stab every part of his body. He needed to be up. He needed to think.

The scene was so familiar. It brought back so many memories. An empty living room. Cory staying up with him all night. Shawn's first memory was being at the Matthews' when he was five with several bruised ribs and haunting memories.

"The dream. In it, there were so many things. I knew it happened tonight. My dad beating me. But-" Shawn paused before going on. "Turner was in it to. He was yelling at me. He was about to hit me." Shawn swallowed and turned away from Cory, not daring to look his friend in the eye.

"Is that what you think Shawn? That Turner will hurt you like your dad did? Because he won't. He loves you, man." Cory tried to make sense of this information in his own mind, while still making every effort to comfort Shawn.

"Why wouldn't he!" Shawn's voice was as loud as one's could be after sustaining so many injuries. "What make him any different from anybody else Cor? What?"

Cory shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying Shawn. You know Turner likes you. You're happier here then I've ever seen you." He pointed at the couch that Shawn had been sleeping on. "Now you need to get to sleep. Tomorrow-well, tomorrow is not a day you want to do on two hours rest."

Shawn looked for a second as if he would ignore Cory completely. What did Cory know anyway. Then exhaustion-sheer, undeniable exhaustion-overtook him. The last thing Shawn remembered from that night was mumbling, "Thanks, Cor." Just before he drifted to sleep.

Cory watched the rhythmic rise and fall of the thin blanket that covered Shawn until his own eyes wouldn't stay open any longer. He curled up on the chair, resting his head on top of Shawn's.

If anybody could have seen the two boys at that moment, they would have thought they were the happiest kids in the world. Both had fallen to sleep with smiles on their faces, despite what had just happened.


I thought this story needed a little Cory/Shawn time, because here on out, it's all gonna be Shawn/Turner. (nasty minded people out there, don't say anything!) Anyways, review!