Chapter 9 - Destiny

Shawn barely kept up the conversation with Feeny on the way back to his house. He couldn't stop thinking about what Jon had said.

I always thought you were cool, Shawn had told him.

Not always.

The words stung, even though they were deserved. Shawn knew that Jon had to be referring to the last flight they had had before Jon had hopped onto his bike and took off on a ride to clear his head. His last ride.

Was it Shawn's fault that Jon had gotten into his accident? He hadn't thought of it that way before. Jon was so good on the bike, Shawn had never seen him mess up. Why had he gotten into an accident this time?

Maybe it was because he was still angry after Shawn yelled at him.

Shawn tried to push away the thought, but it wouldn't let him go. His mind flashed back to that night.

In hindsight, he couldn't even remember what the fight had been about. Wasn't that always how it went? He vaguely remembered he'd asked to go to something completely reasonable that he knew Jon would say no to-okay, so maybe it wasn't completely reasonable-and something about the way Jon had turned him down had made him angry. Or maybe it was the fact that it had been exactly two years since his dad had left him the first time.

I wasn't asking, Shawn had retorted. I'm going, whether you like it or not.

Nice try. Sit down, don't you have a study guide for that history test tomorrow?

Don't try to change the subject.

I'm not changing my mind, Shawn. Jon had taken a step closer, just to within reach.

Shawn had shoved him back. YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!

It was far from the first time Shawn had said it, but he'd never been stupid enough to physically fight Jon. He'd seen the guy in a tank top, knew his gym routine. For a half second, Jon had drawn himself up to his full height, and Shawn had cringed...then he'd said he needed some air, and he was going to give Shawn some space.

Jon didn't come home. A police officer came to the house to tell Shawn the news.

As soon as Feeny pulled up at the house, before the car was even fully stopped, Shawn climbed out and ran into the house through the side door, not even pausing to give Little Cory any attention. Feeny often kept the door through his garden unlocked, and Shawn was often upset and didn't want to talk after visiting with Jon, so Feeny didn't come after him.

Shawn went into his room, shut the door behind himself, and started pacing. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. Well, in some ways, he felt like this all the time—like his father figure had left and it was his fault. This was different, though. It was fresh, sharp. Some part of Shawn always knew, even if he didn't feel it, that his real dad's issues didn't have anything to do with Shawn, not really. Jon, though, he'd been fine before Shawn had come around. One thing was for sure: he never would have been on the road that night if it hadn't been for their fight.

The accident had to be his fault. There was no way around it.

The pain of the realization was more than Shawn could take. He didn't know what he was supposed to do about it.

He knew what his dad would have done about it.

Shawn tugged at his hair. He knew he couldn't do that. The guys at the trailer park had offered him drinks before, but he'd always either refused or made them think he was drinking when he wasn't. Some of the guys had even talked about where they'd gotten their fake ID's so they could buy their own drinks, but Shawn had never walked that path, even on his darkest days. He didn't want to become his father.

Shawn had never really talked to anyone about that. Well, except Jon, once. The day Cory had found Shawn's dad and dragged him back to talk to Shawn, hoping to get him to take Shawn back. They'd met up at a police station—that was the Hunters for you—and Shawn's dad had protested that he couldn't take care of Shawn. Shawn had argued, and his dad finally relented—except Shawn still had to go home with Jon for the night, because Jon had legal guardianship. They'd planned to work things out in the days that followed, but by the time the next day came, Shawn's dad had disappeared again.

It was the drive home from the police station that Shawn remembered. Shawn knew he should be happy, but he found his feelings mixed. Jon had noticed. He always noticed.

You okay, Hunter? he'd asked.

I've never been happier. I've wanted this all year, Shawn had said, because it was what he was supposed to say.

It's okay if you're not. This has been a tough year for you.

Shawn had leaned up against the door, and he told Jon, I think he's going to leave again.

Jon was quiet for just long enough that Shawn knew he agreed, but he just asked, Why do you think that?

Because he's like me, Shawn said.

Jon had pulled over the car, looked Shawn in the eyes, and gave him a long lecture Shawn didn't believe, about how he had a choice of who to become.

The accident just confirmed what he'd thought for a long time. There was no helping it. Shawn wrecked everything he touched, pushed away and hurt everyone he ever loved. Maybe it was just what Hunters did.

Maybe this was just who he was, and there was no way around it.

Shawn clenched his teeth. Well, there was one thing he knew. He knew how Hunters dealt with it.

Feeny's window was harder to climb out of than the one at the Matthews—no treehouse—but like Shawn had told Jon long ago, he liked a challenge.

Sneaking out of the backyard and to the street was easy. Shawn had built some trust with Feeny by basically acting like Cory all summer, so Feeny wasn't exactly watching Shawn's every move.

Getting to the trailer park was even easier. He had walked from Cory's house to his trailer a thousand times, during the day and at night. Jon didn't like him walking after dark, but that was Jon's problem.

The guy who made fake ID's was exactly where the trailer trash guys had told Shawn he would be, and he did quick work. He wasn't exactly cheap, which cut into liquor money, but Shawn had a stash saved. He'd been putting money aside since he'd realized his arrangement with Jon was supposed to be permanent—someday, when Shawn finally pushed Jon away, he'd need something to fall back on.

Walking into the liquor store would have to be the easiest part. He knew how to hold his body and face so that he'd look older, and armed with a fake ID that had worked for guys three years younger than he was, he'd be in and out in seconds.

Except he couldn't get himself to go in. He had his fake ID in one hand and the other on the door, and he just couldn't push it open.

He kept thinking about something Jon had once told him, a few weeks before Shawn's mom had run away and his dad had run off to chase her, leaving his son behind.

All I can do is teach you whatever I can, and hope that you leave my class a little better than when you came in.

Shawn had half laughed. You mean drag the trailer park trash up to decent society?

Hey. Jon had looked him right in the eyes. If you don't know that, deep down inside, you're all right . . . then I haven't taught you anything at all.

Shawn's eyes watered. He guessed that meant Jon hadn't taught him anything at all.

But Shawn knew one thing. He didn't want to be here. He was tired, and cold. And hungry. Really hungry. Maybe he should use his money to get himself something to eat instead of drink.

Or he could always just raid Feeny's fridge, for free. It was long after curfew now, but with any luck, Feeny wouldn't even know he'd been gone. Shawn could save the money for when he made Feeny angry enough to leave him, kick him out, or accidentally get himself hospitalized.

He'd fought his destiny for almost seventeen years. He knew where he was going to end up, but maybe he could fight it for just one more night.

A/N: This got a bit angsty, but . . . well. It's Shawn. What did I really expect? (Also, this story will be complete at 14 chapters!)