A/N: Bonus chapter! Some Christmas angst for y'all. Wishing everyone a good one!
Chapter 23 - The Best Christmas
It took Jon a minute of staring at a calendar to figure out when it was. Eventually, he figured out that today was December 21st.
That gave him a few days. It would have to be enough.
Because Shawn Hunter had suffered so much. And he didn't deserve any of that. Jon wasn't going to be able to give him anything like the kind of Christmas he deserved, but he could give him something.
The first and most important thing was to make sure the Matthews were willing to come by and visit for an hour or two. Jon knew he couldn't ask them to spend their Christmas in the hospital, but as it turned out, Cory had already been begging for a visit, and they were more than happy to spare a couple of hours.
Jon set to work preparing the rest of the day. To begin with, he had no idea what to give Shawn as a gift. After talking it over with Amy and—though he never would have admitted it to anyone—Cory, he ended up picking up a couple of cassettes, a nice camera, and some candy that he put into a red and white stocking.
Shawn was eating regular foods, and he was able to be awake for most of the day; he just couldn't walk yet, and only one arm was usable. Jon picked up a few little decorations for the room: a couple of strings of lights, some garland, and a mini tree with some tiny ornaments. Shawn could quite literally decorate it in bed with his one good arm if he wanted to.
Jon also spent some time figuring out food for the day. Croquets took time; he didn't exactly want to leave Shawn alone to cook for hours. So on the night before Christmas Eve, he stayed up late to make them, then wrapped them up in cellophane and asked if Amy could heat them up and bring them down when she brought Cory. He also spent a little time raiding bakeries in the days leading up, so that there would be cookies and little cakes available. Shawn would like that.
The final touch was to bribe someone to wheel in a TV, and to pick up a few VHS tapes of Christmas movies. Between presents, decorations, meals, movies, and visitors, Jon figured it would be a nice, full day. Maybe not the best Christmas Shawn had ever had, but maybe the best day he'd had since he'd come to the hospital.
On the morning of Christmas Eve, Jon stopped by the Matthews to bring the croquets. Amy invited him in with a smile, and he followed her into the kitchen, where she replaced the package with a cup of coffee. He hadn't planned to stay, but the gesture of kindness wasn't lost on him, and if he was honest, he was both exhausted and needing the caffeine, and in need of adult conversation. Even if it was just about Shawn.
"How's he doing?" Amy asked.
Jon shrugged. "You know Shawn. He puts on a good face." He left out the part where Shawn hadn't been capable of putting on a good face until the side effects from the shock had worn off.
Amy just nodded. She sat down at the table with him, with her own cup of coffee. "Have you heard anything from Chet?"
Jon shook his head. "I called him as soon as Shawn woke up. He said he'd come around, but...I've heard nothing since."
"Have you thought about what happens if he doesn't come back? Or if he doesn't complete the requirements?"
Of course, he had. It was impossible not to. But he sure tried to avoid thinking down those lines. Shawn wasn't ready to think about that, not that he likely ever would be. "Shawn thinks his dad will come through."
Amy stared at him. "Jonathan... you've met Chet."
"Well, what am I supposed to do, Amy? Get my hopes up that Chet'll break his heart so I can adopt him?"
"Do you want to adopt him?"
"Of course I want to adopt him! But it's not gonna happen, and it's not worth... it's not..."
She smiled very slightly. "I've never heard you say you wanted that."
"You've met Shawn. He's a good kid. How could anyone not want him?"
She shifted her weight in her seat, adjusting her grip on her coffee mug. "I think you need to be ready to have that conversation with Shawn. I know you want to give him a good Christmas, but... you remember how he felt when his dad didn't show up for his birthday."
"That was different. They had a visit scheduled."
"I think Shawn might have his hopes up more than you think." She took a deep breath. "Look, he's scared his father won't want him, but he's also scared he won't have anywhere to go. Don't you think you could...maybe make him feel a little better about one of those things, if you talk to him?"
Jon considered it, but there was no way that conversation could go well. "I'll think about it," he said, in the same voice Chet had used when he said he'd come visit Shawn in the hospital.
Jon barely slept the night before Christmas. For the first time in well over a year, it was excitement that kept him awake. He could almost see the grin on Shawn's face at his first time in weeks eating food that wasn't prepared in the hospital, the childlike wonder in his eyes at the gifts, his and Cory's stupid laughs and unspoken teen language whenever they were together. The way Shawn's head fell back and his fingers fell limp when he was relaxed and fell asleep, the same look on his face as that first time he'd passed out on Jon's couch, more than a year and a half ago.
It might not be Shawn's best Christmas ever, but Jon had a feeling it would be his.
He dozed a few times, but by six in the morning, it was obvious to Jon he wasn't going to sleep. He spent some time packing up the car, and he drove to the hospital.
He was as quiet as he could be stepping into Shawn's room. Shawn was out, but his nightlight was almost the same brightness as full lighting would have been. He never had gotten the hang of sleeping in darkness.
Mindful of his steps, Jon hung the stocking from a supply rack and set the baked goods on a little table in the corner. He did the best he could stringing up the garland, and he put the presents on the stand by Shawn's bed. He left the undecorated tree with a package of ornaments by the bed, and he wheeled in the TV and set the VHS tapes on the shelf beneath. Shawn slept soundly through all of it.
It was the string lights that got him caught. He wanted to hang them on the bars on the bed's headboard, but the plastic clanged against the metal, and Shawn stirred. "Jon?"
"Ah. Sorry about that."
Shawn pushed himself up a little to look around, and Jon helped him to sit up. His eyes traveled from the decorations, to the baked goods, to the gifts, and up at Jon. But it wasn't a smile on his face. It was closer to the look he'd given Jon when he opened the Walkman. The look of shock that said he didn't think he deserved it.
It was so much better than a smile. Jon couldn't hold his own smile back. "Merry Christmas, Shawn."
"Jon...you didn't have to do all this."
"I wanted to." He turned on the Christmas lights, and the whole room lit up in blinking colors. "I figured, if we gotta spend Christmas in the hospital, we can at least make it, you know, Christmas."
The corners of his mouth twitched. "I don't know what to say."
"Hungry?"
"Uh... Not yet." He frowned down at the little Christmas tree. "I guess I woke up before you could decorate it."
"Actually, I was thinking you might like to."
Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Making me do work on Christmas?"
"Or I can do it."
"No, no, I might...maybe do a couple of ornaments."
Jon brushed Shawn's hair back with his hand. The day was so much better than he'd imagined. "You got it." He went over to the corner to grab the tree.
The fluorescent lights in the room suddenly switched on. Jon blinked as a doctor and nurse came in and went over to Shawn's bed. The nurse carried a tray with a couple of needles.
Jon swallowed. "Doctor, what's this?"
"Just need to examine a few things."
"On Christmas morning?"
"It's okay, Jon," Shawn said.
The doctor looked up at Jon as the nurse began to help Shawn sit up straighter, pulling his sleeves back. "We'll get everything over with quickly. I know you've got plans for the day." The doctor's eyes skimmed the room before resting on the kid. "Alright, Shawn, this might pinch a little. Dad, you might want to sit with him."
Jon sighed and took his usual place by Shawn. Today's examination seemed to be a lot more thorough than most days. They checked his blood pressure and listened to his heart, they looked over his stitches and applied medicine to a couple of the wounds—which stung, if Shawn's reaction was anything to go by. They gave him a couple of shots, and they pressed fingers into his bruises and torn ligaments and broken bones until he gasped, then asked him to rate his pain.
It took over an hour, and Shawn was breathing hard and wiping at his eyes by the time it was over. Jon just stayed close. Shawn grabbed Jon's arm a couple of times when the pain was bad; Jon was sure he'd have bruises, but he was glad he'd been there.
Finally, finally, the doctor stood, and the nurse packed up the supplies they'd brought in. "Okay, Shawn, you're all done for today. And I think you're going to have a very good Christmas. You have a visitor waiting to see you."
"Wait, really?" Shawn perked up.
Jon had been pretty sure Amy was going to bring Cory much later in the day. Maybe he'd insisted on going early. Or maybe Ashley had come in early. She hadn't actually said what time she was coming.
The doctor smiled. "He asked me to let him know when the examination was done. I'll get him."
Cory, then. That was good. Cory would be able to cheer up Shawn in a way Jon couldn't.
The doctor and nurse left, and Jon wordlessly brought Shawn a little spice cake from the corner table. Shawn grinned his thanks and ate. Jon couldn't bring himself to eat yet; it hadn't exactly been the start to the day he'd hoped for.
He was bringing the Christmas tree over to Shawn when he heard the door open, and he saw Shawn's face light up.
"Dad!"
Jon almost dropped the tree. He turned to see Chet lumbering into the room. "Shawnie! My boy!" He chuckled and went straight over to the bed, wrapping his arms around Shawn in a rough hug.
"Oh, watch the arm, Dad!"
"Oh! Sorry, there." Chet loosened his grip, then he stepped back.
"I can't believe you're here!"
"'Course I'm here! You didn't think I'd miss Christmas with my boy, did you? Nothin more important 'n family, am I right, Shawnie?"
Shawn grinned more brightly than Jon had seen since he'd known the kid.
Jon had to fight the nausea that rose from his stomach into his throat. He should be happy. Shawn was thrilled. What kind of a monster was he, wishing Chet hadn't come?
"Oh! I brought you somethin." Chet reached into his back pocket and pulled out a candy bar. "Uh, mighta got a little melted."
"This is my favorite! You remembered!"
"Merry Christmas, son." Chet turned back to Jon. "Uh. His social worker called. Said I could have the day." He clapped Jon on the shoulder. "Thanks for takin' good care of my boy, Teach. I'll have him outta your hair in no time."
Jon didn't trust himself to speak. He instead looked past Chet, to Shawn. "Cory's coming in a few hours, Mrs. Matthews is bringing croquets. There's movies, and snacks, and a couple of gifts..."
Shawn's eyes grew wider with every word. "This works out perfect for you, too, Jon! You were just talking about not wanting to spend Christmas in the hospital, and now you don't have to!"
It truly felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.
Shawn sighed, content. "This is the best Christmas ever."
Jon made himself smile, because wasn't that all he wanted? For Shawn to have a good Christmas? "I'll see you tomorrow, Shawn," Jon said, heading for the door.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?"
Jon turned back to look at him.
Shawn held out an arm. "It's Christmas. Come here."
Jon went over to gently hug the kid. "Behave, you hear?"
"Thanks for everything, Jon."
Jon nodded, and he headed out.
He almost ran into Ashley in the hall. "Hey," she said, "you don't look well. Everything okay?"
"His dad came to spend the day with him."
"Oh." Her mouth hung open. "Jon, I—"
"No, no, it's fine. It's a good thing. He's happy."
"Well, where are you going?"
"Uh. Home?" He forced a chuckle. "You're always telling me I need to pace myself, take time alone..."
"Jon..."
"I have to go," he said, and he bolted out of the hospital before he could lose it.
Driving home, he tried to tell himself, like he'd told Ashley, that it was a good thing. Maybe it meant Chet was turning things around. Maybe he'd do those parenting classes, go to therapy. Shawn could go back home. Jon could have his life back.
...No. Jon wouldn't get his life back. This was his life now.
But it wouldn't be for long. This was what his life would be like, again, when Shawn went home.
Jon rode the elevator alone. Stepped out into the hall and to his apartment alone. It was dark, and empty, and it smelled like chicken croquets—he'd left the dishes in the sink, because who was he trying to impress? He hadn't even put up a tree. No one had informed his apartment it was Christmas morning.
Slowly, Jon lowered himself down on the couch and looked down at his hands. A few specks of glitter clung to his fingers, probably from the wrapping paper. He didn't brush them away. He could see red marks on his right wrist, from the times Shawn had gripped onto it when the doctors pressed too hard on his wounds. Chet might leave the hospital with glitter on his hands, but he wouldn't have the red marks. He hadn't come in to sit with Shawn when he was hurting; he'd asked the doctors to tell him when it was over.
Jon buried his head in his hands. He couldn't think this way. Couldn't look down on Chet Hunter. Chet didn't come close to the kind of parent Shawn needed and deserved, would probably never come close; but it didn't matter. Chet might have been a bad father, but he was Shawn's father. Jon had no right to Shawn—no right to keep him, no right to love him like a son. If he had done anything kind for Shawn on Christmas, then that's all it was. Kindness, at best, for another man's kid. Boxes checked, at worst, fulfilling his contractual obligation as a foster parent. Meanwhile, Chet Hunter was the luckiest man in the world, and he didn't know it.
But Jon knew he himself was lucky. Because he had gotten all he wanted. Shawn was having a great Christmas. The best Christmas, he'd said.
What else could possibly matter?