Chapter 21 - Double Lie

When Jon got back to the waiting room, Alan was there with a sandwich and a can of soda. He reached under his chair and took out another sandwich, wrapped, and another soda. "Eat," he said.

"I'm, uh, not really hungry."

"Eat anyway. Your kid didn't come home last night, I'm guessing you didn't eat dinner. It's almost breakfast time. You've been up all night."

"Alan—"

"Hey. Shawn needs you strong."

Jon took a deep breath, and he accepted the meal.

At about six in the morning, the doors to the waiting room burst open, and Cory flew in. "Where is Shawn? Can I see him? Is he okay? My mom wouldn't let me come any sooner, I've been worried about him all night."

Jon swallowed. He wasn't sure whether Cory should be allowed to see what he had seen. But Alan stood, put a hand on Cory's shoulder, and walked him up to the front desk.

Amy came in to the waiting room a minute later, eyes full of worry. "How are you, Jon?"

"I've been better."

"I'm sorry about the ambush. He was begging all night."

"I wouldn't have expected anything else."

She sat with him for a few minutes, and she spoke softly, not that he was picking up on much of what she was saying. She eventually went quiet, and shortly after she did, Alan came out with Cory, whose eyes were shiny.

Amy stood and went to put an arm around Cory, walking him out, while Alan went to Jon. "Jonathan, I—"

"You need to get home to your own family."

Alan looked defeated. "If you need anything..."

"I'll call."

"Give you a ride home?"

Jon knew that he should go home. He hadn't slept all night. But his mind was wired, alive. He couldn't imagine sleeping. "I'm going to stay," he said.

"Take care of yourself."

Jon nodded.

For the rest of the day, Jon was in and out of Shawn's hospital room. Shawn was out for the count, so there wasn't much to do but sit by his side. When doctors and nurses needed Jon out, he went to the lobby, and he made himself eat something every few hours. But he didn't sleep.

It was about four in the afternoon when another familiar face came into the waiting room. Jon stood up and went to greet him. "Hi, George."

"Hello, Jonathan." His face was somber, even more so than usual. "Social services called the school. How is he doing?"

"He's still out, I haven't been able to talk to him."

"You've seen him?"

"I've spent most of the last 12 hours in his room. The doctors are saying he was lucky, but… he looks real bad to me, George."

Feeny nodded. "If there's anything I can do, anything at all…"

It only occurred to him then that he had missed school without even calling in for a sub. "George, I'm so sorry. I didn't even… What was I thinking?…"

"You were thinking about your child. I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I'm probably going to be out for the week."

"Let's talk in January. I can get someone in to help your students focus on the last few days of studying, and to proctor your exams. You just focus on Shawn."

"Thank you." Another realization washed over him. "Is he going to have to repeat junior year?"

"Well, he finished the first semester."

"It's gonna be a long time before he can make up final exams."

"I'll have his teachers give him whatever grade he had earned up to this point."

Jon nodded. It wasn't all he had hoped for, but to Shawn's point, those grades were the best he had ever earned. And grades were the last of his concern right now.

"When the new term starts, I'll see about some sort of independent study, if he can handle it by then. I'm thinking if he can keep up with his required classes, he can be on track to graduate."

Jon let his breath out. To his knowledge, for juniors, that was just English and history, maybe math. There might be credits to make up, but he could do that later.

"Right now, don't think about any of that. Just think about getting him well."

"I will."

"I'm assuming the Matthews have been supportive?"

"Yeah. Cory came by earlier."

"Half the school was clamoring to come see Shawn, you know."

John winced. Shawn would eventually be thankful for that, but he wasn't ready.

"I sent a notice to their families asking them to hold off for now. They may send cards, but not visitors."

"Thank you."

"On a personal note?"

"Yeah?"

"You look like you haven't slept in days. He's not going to get better overnight. You'll need to go home and sleep at some point."

"George—"

"This is a marathon, not a sprint. Let me give you a ride."

Jon let his breath out. Feeny was right. Adrenaline had kept him awake so far, but he wasn't going to last forever. The front desk had given him his keys, which had been salvaged from the wreck; he could drive himself back to the hospital when he needed to.

"Okay," he said, finally. "Thanks, George."

By the time Jon woke up on the couch in his apartment—he'd apparently never made it up to his bed—he almost didn't remember how he'd gotten there.

The cold reality that the accident hadn't been a dream washed over him, his heart sinking, a weight so heavy he almost couldn't breathe.

Then the phone rang again.

Jon pulled himself up, rubbing his face, and he went to pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Jon, it's Ashley."

All at once, he was very awake. "How's Shawn doing?"

"He's awake."

"Oh!" Jon scrambled to find his keys. "I knew I shouldn't have left the hospital."

"It's okay, you need to take care of yourself too. He's still pretty out of it, he should wake up a little more over the course of the next hour. Take your time."

"I'll be there in ten." He hung up and headed out as fast as he could.

Back at the hospital, Jon didn't bother checking in at the front desk. He didn't have to—the receptionist waved him through, nodding, and he hurried into Shawn's room.

As promised, Shawn's eyes were open. A nurse was with him, one Jon didn't recognize, checking up on a couple of things. Shawn's breathing tube was gone, and he gave Jon a slight smile as he entered the room, but it cut off with a wince.

"Hey," Jon said, pulling up the chair by the bed. He looked up at the nurse, who nodded and left the room.

"Hey, Jon." He cleared his throat. "They told me what happened. Sorry about your bike."

"Shawn..." Jon shook his head. "That's the last thing on my mind."

"You loved that bike."

"I love you, Shawn!"

The words had just slipped out.

Shawn stared at him for a moment. "I know you do."

Jon slid in a little closer, putting a hand on Shawn's. "And I'm so sorry I made you feel like I wasn't proud of you. I'm more proud than you could ever—"

"Jon, I lied to you."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "About going to Cory's? Yeah, I got that. I'd ground you, but..."

Shawn's face remained serious. "About the black eye. The one you reported."

Jon felt his jaw drop.

"Uh... I didn't lie when I said I hit it on the counter." He took a deep breath. "But, uh... my dad shoved me into it. I mean, it was an accident, sort of. Well, he was drunk. But..."

Jon had never in his life wanted so badly to kill another human being.

"But you..." He coughed a couple of times. "You did the right thing, you know? 'Cause now my dad can get the help he needs, and we can be a family again."

"Hunter..."

"And I'm sorry I gave... sorry I gave you so much grief about it..." He looked away, and started coughing again.

Jon grimaced.

"That tube thing sucked, man," Shawn said when the coughing stopped. "So when do I get out of here?"

"Out of here?" Jon blinked.

"I don't exactly have health insurance."

"Actually, you do. Through social services."

"Oh. Well...hospitals freak me out, anyway. So, you bring the car?

"Shawn, you're going to be here a while."

"No, no, I'll bounce back."

"Shawn..."

Shawn's eyes traveled down to his arm, then to his leg, then up at Jon. His voice grew very small: "I'm really scared here, man."

"I know. I'm right here."

"Do you think—" his voice cracked "—maybe social services would let my dad visit me here?"

Jon nodded. He'd make it happen. Never mind that he still wanted to kill Chet Hunter; if it made Shawn feel better, Jon would make him come. "Course, Hunter. I'll give them a call, first thing in the morning."

"Could you just...call my dad? I'm sure he's still awake."

"Yeah." Jon patted his better arm. "I'll go call him now."

"Thanks." Shawn smiled.

Jon didn't want to leave him. But he had to make the call. He hadn't memorized the number, but he managed to track it down by talking to reception, and even to borrow a phone. He made a mental note to memorize the number later.

He was so pleased with himself for having tracked down the number that it didn't occur to him Chet probably wouldn't pick up.

The phone was on its fourth ring when he realized it. The machine picked up.

Jon cleared his throat after the beep. "Uh, Chet, this is Jonathan Turner. I'm calling from—"

Some shuffling on the other end. "Hello? Teach? Hello?"

Jon swallowed. "Listen, I'm at the hospital. Did you hear what happened to your son?"

"Ah...yeah. Real sorry to hear it."

Jon waited for him to ask whether Shawn was doing okay, but there was nothing more from the other end. He took a deep breath. "He just woke up, and he's asking for you."

"Ah. 'Course."

"Can you come down?"

"Uh, yeah. You betcha."

Jon frowned. He knew that tone of voice. Had heard it before from his own family members. "Shawn needs you, Chet."

"I said I'd be there, din't I?"

Jon hung his head. "Fine. I'll let him know."

"You do that."

Jon hung up. He turned slowly, and he walked back to Shawn's room.

Shawn's eyes were closed, but they opened when Jon came in. "Hey, is he coming?"

"Uh. Phone went to machine."

"He's probably busy."

Jon felt his eyes stinging. He couldn't imagine abandoning this child. Overwhelmed, he leaned forward to brush Shawn's hair aside, and he kissed his forehead.

When Jon pulled back, Shawn was giving him a bewildered look. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Jon said, but his voice was thick.

"Okayy . . ." Shawn shrugged. "Hey, there's no TV in here. Could you grab me my Walkman from home?"

"Sure."

"Maybe some comic books?"

"No problem."

"Can Cory visit?"

"He came by when you were asleep. I'm sure he'll be back."

"Good." Shawn smiled, but the smile faded. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"Thought you said you were scared."

"Uh, did I say scared? I'm totally fine, Jon."

"Okay." Jon pulled up the chair to sit next to him. "Well, to tell you the truth, I'm kinda scared. So I'm glad you're alright."

"Uh..."

"Cause I think I'm gonna need to spend a lot of time in here."

Shawn shifted slightly, wincing. "Well, I guess that's okay, but I'm gonna need you to clear out any time I have a date."

Jon laughed out loud, and Shawn grinned.

For the first time in almost twenty four hours, Jon felt like he could breathe easier. It was going to be a long road, but Shawn really was going to be okay.