A/N: Welp, my computer got stolen...during the busiest month of my year. I'm a little behind in a lot of things. Updates will be a bit more sporadic for the foreseeable future. But we're on the home stretch!
Chapter 41 - Grief
Early the next morning, they saw Cory off at the airport. Shawn followed Cory as far as the airport employees would let him, and they hugged for a long time, longer than Jon had seen them hug before. Cory spoke to Shawn in a low enough voice that Jon couldn't hear the words, standing at a distance.
Ashley stood beside Jon, but her eyes were on the boys. "Rough time for him," she said softly.
Jon nodded. With Shawn's permission, he had told Ashley what Shawn had learned about his mother. After Cory's comment about Shawn seeing Jon as a parent, Jon felt a lot less bad about the fact that Shawn had objected more strongly to Jon knowing.
"How are you holding up?" Ashley asked.
Jon looked back to her. "I'm guessing these next few days are gonna feel less like a vacation."
"You think he'll stop pretending he's alright?"
Jon nodded.
"Good for him."
He looked over at her. "Gonna be some late nights. Could be crying."
"Good. He needs the release."
"Not just crying. Screaming. He might yell some pretty nasty stuff."
She looked him in the eyes. "Good."
Jon didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve her.
Shawn came back to join them. "Where are we going next?" he asked.
Just that. No spring in his step, but no catch in his voice, either. Jon answered in as matter-of-fact a voice as he could muster. "We'll actually spend a little more time in France. There's a few things I think you'll enjoy in Paris and the surrounding areas. We'll head to Italy in a few days."
"Why'd you have us pack today, then?"
"Because we're switching to my buddy's vacation house. No reason to be in the Disneyland Hotel anymore." Not to mention, his friend's house had three bedrooms. But Jon wasn't going to say that; Shawn didn't need any more ammunition.
Shawn shrugged. "Does it have a pool?"
"Yeah. But let's keep the swimming to daylight hours, okay, Hunter?"
"Yeah, okay." A hint of a smile. "Hey, can we see that pointy tower thing? You know, the . . . the . . ." He made a triangle shape with his hands."
"The Eiffel Tower?"
"Yeah!"
"It's on the list."
"Okay. Good." A real smile this time.
Jon put an arm around Shawn and took Ashley's hand, and they headed out of the airport.
The next few days were about what Jon had expected. Shawn cycled between emotions fast enough to give Jon whiplash.
They toured the Eiffel Tower. A guide taught them about the history of the tower and told jokes and stories, and they climbed the stairs partway—they couldn't go to the top—and it was fun for a while. They were halfway up the stairs when Shawn said, "Wonder what it would be like to jump off the top," just loud enough for Jon to hear. Jon felt sick for the rest of the tour.
They didn't see the Louvre, but they visited a smaller art museum on the outskirts of Paris. Shawn was quiet for most of the day, but some of the paintings portrayed families, and his hands were balled into fists, knuckles white. Jon asked him how he was doing, and Shawn just spat out, "I'm fine."
They went on a food tour that Jon's buddy who owned the vacation house had insisted they try—and paid for the reservation himself, when Jon had told him his teacher's salary. Ashley had probably enjoyed it the most, out of the three of them. Shawn had been happy through the whole thing, raving about the food, but at the end of it, he caught a glimpse of a sign that said how much the meal had cost, and he was silent on the walk back to the house. Jon asked what was on his mind, and he just said, "I coulda bought food for two months at home with that." The big meal turned sour in Jon's stomach, and he wanted to throw it up.
The pattern continued as they left France and toured Italy. To Shawn's credit, though, he got up every morning and agreed to whatever Jon had planned for the day without question. And while he sometimes—frequently—mouthed off to Jon, he was nothing but respectful to Ashley.
The evenings were harder than the mornings. Some nights, Shawn ate copious amounts of food, more than Jon had ever seen him eat—and that was saying something. Some nights, he wouldn't eat at all. Some nights, he disappeared in his room and wouldn't come out. And some nights, he cried bitterly for hours.
"Vacation of a lifetime," Jon told Ashley one night after Shawn went to bed, sitting out on the couch in the shared living space. They were on their last day in Italy, and Shawn had made so many almost-rude remarks to Jon throughout the day, Jon had ended up snapping at him at dinner, leading to a meltdown shortly after. It was truly hard to tell anymore whether Shawn wanted to be here at all. Then again, it was hard to say what he'd really been feeling before he stopped hiding his pain.
"You're doing a good thing," Ashley said.
"Yeah, well, half of me thinks this was a bad idea," Jon told her. "He's working through so much trauma, and I'm just adding all this . . . this extra stimulation."
"Jon, what do you think would be happening if you were at home?"
Jon frowned. He knew exactly what would happen, but he didn't want to say it. Shawn would sulk in his room. He'd go out to see Cory a few times, then he'd grow restless, constantly having the Matthews' domestic bliss shoved in his face, and more than likely, he'd run. He'd drink, or he'd get bored with alcohol and try something harder. He'd hang out with a dangerous crowd—probably back at the trailer park. And sooner or later, he'd make some choice he could never take back.
Jon sighed. "It's better we're here."
Ashley nodded. "I'm not a psychologist, but . . . when he's upset, he's going to you. That's a good sign."
"He goes to you more often."
"And before we came here, how often did he go to you for comfort?"
"Point taken."
She slid in closer to him on the couch. He wrapped an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "He needs to work through everything he's feeling."
"I know. Sometimes I just think it would be better if he was doing that, you know, in his own room. Some stability."
She shrugged. "Not really helpful for him, when he's got all these reminders of everything that's hurting him."
"Yeah, I guess."
A few seconds of silence passed before Shawn's voice said, "Jon, I can't sleep."
Jon sighed and sat up straighter, letting go of Ashley. "How much did you hear?"
"Pretty much all of it," Shawn said, and he came around to sit on the couch on the other side of Jon.
No anger in his voice over anything Jon had said. No guilt for eavesdropping, either. Jon decided not to address either issue. If Shawn wanted to talk about it, he would. Instead, Jon just said, "What's on your mind?"
"Not that much." Shawn tugged at the front of the t-shirt he usually slept in. "It's just really hot."
"Anything we can do to help you get to sleep?"
"I dunno."
"We could watch a movie? Or make something to eat?"
Shawn just shrugged.
Ashley leaned forward to look at Shawn. "You wanna go swimming?"
"It's the middle of the night," Shawn said.
"It's a private pool, and we'd be there to supervise," she said.
Shawn raised his eyebrows. "You'd swim too?"
Jon's own body ached with exhaustion. He said it anyway. "Sure."
Shawn eyes lit up. "Okay. See you out there!" He shot up and raced toward his room.
Jon side eyed Ashley. "You think that's gonna get him to sleep?"
"No, but he'll sleep in tomorrow, and we'll get a break."
"Heard that!" Shawn's voice yelled from the next room.
"You were supposed to!" Ashley called back, and she grinned. "We gotta get changed before he accidentally dives into the shallow end and cracks his head open."
"Now you know why I brought a nurse," Jon said, but her words got him up off the couch.
He changed into swim trunks as fast as he could and made it out just before Shawn did. He had enough time to flick on the lights in the backyard before Shawn jumped into the water.
He shot up out of it, grinning and mopping his hair out of his face, and he dove into and out of the water a few times, swimming a couple of laps in the short direction, but then he settled down and floated on his back.
Jon was about to jump in when Ashley came out of the house. In a swimsuit.
It wasn't a bikini—it was an off-white one-piece—but that really didn't matter. It took effort to bring his eyes up to her face, but when they got there, he realized she was checking him out, too. He was thankful he hadn't completely given up on working out.
"Oh, come on!" Shawn yelled from the pool. "Get a room already!"
That was enough to break the spell. Jon ran and jumped into the pool right beside Shawn, making sure the splash caught him in the face.
"Hey!" Shawn laughed and wiped his eyes, then he looked over at Ashley. "You gonna get in? Or, uh, sit at the edge so your boyfriend can get a better view of you?"
Ashley scoffed and came to jump in on the other side of Shawn, and both Jon and Ashley splashed him in the face repeatedly until he choked out, "Okay, okay! I'll stop! I'll stop!"
They both stopped, all three laughing, and Shawn pushed his hair out of his face. "Seriously, though, if you guys get through this whole trip and don't even kiss . . ."
Jon looked over at Ashley. "What do you say?" he asked, but he nodded toward Shawn.
She winked. "I'm game if you are."
"Wait, what?" Shawn asked, before being grabbed from both sides—Jon and Ashley wrapped their arms around him on either side and both kissed him on the cheek.
"Gross!" Shawn pushed them away, but he was still laughing. "You guys are so embarrassing."
"Yeah, kind of our job," Jon said, before he realized the implication of what he was saying.
Shawn didn't seem to miss it. He sighed and leaned back against the edge of the pool. "I'm sorry for ruining you guys' vacation."
"What do you mean, Hunter?"
"It's okay, Jon, I heard what you said."
"You're not ruining anything."
"You're the one who said you're kinda regretting even coming out here."
"Shawn . . ." Jon didn't know how to say it. He felt like he had told Shawn the same thing so many times. That he cared about him. That he loved him. That Shawn wasn't a burden, that Jon wanted him around, that he was on his side, always . . .
"Yeah, I know." Shawn sighed, leaning his head back. "Just not really used to it. My dad . . ."
"Shawn." Jon waited until the kid looked him in the eyes. "I'm not your dad."
Shawn stared at him, and Jon couldn't blame him. He'd shocked himself with his own words. Shawn had said them so many times in reverse.
Jon couldn't get any sort of read on what he was thinking or feeling. He didn't know if Shawn would explode on him for what he'd said, or if it would be another night of hysterical crying, or if he would retreat.
"I kinda wanna come back here sometime," Shawn said finally. "Like, when things are less . . . you know."
"I hear you." Jon knew better than to ask whether Shawn was asking them to take him. He doubted he'd ever be able to arrange anything like this again for the rest of his life; he'd called in years' worth of favors. He felt silly, again, for having done it at a time when Shawn couldn't really enjoy it.
But then Shawn leaned his head back on the edge of the pool and let himself float, and his face looked serene. And Jon knew why they were there.
