A/N: Wish I could promise a quicker update next time, but I've just become a foster mom(!), so I'll probably continue to be slow. Thanks to those who have stuck around!

Chapter 42 - Malta

They spent another day in Italy before they took off for another private jet to Malta. Once again, Shawn slept the whole way, though this time the flight was only a couple of hours.

On the plane, Jon and Ashley sipped sparkling cider and spoke in low voices to avoid waking him up.

"Did you tell him where we're going?" Ashley asked.

"He didn't ask," Jon said. "I think he's been caught up in . . . everything."

Ashley looked over at Shawn, who was sleeping peacefully on a couch. She held out a hand to Jon.

Jon took her hand. "Still can't believe you scuba dive."

"And yet you believe Shawn does?"

"He learned at school."

"Feeny?"

"Yep."

"I'd like to meet him someday."

"I'm sure you will." Something occurred to him. "When did you learn to scuba dive?"

"College course. Didn't cost any extra on top of tuition, so I figured, when else am I gonna have the opportunity?"

"Well, I'm glad you did."

She grinned. "Me too. When did you learn?"

"Ah. A few buddies of mine all did it together, senior year of high school. Went on a few trips." He was growing more comfortable telling stories that alluded to his wealth growing up. Ashley wouldn't judge him for it. "It's been a while, though."

"For me, too. When's the last time Shawn's been?"

"Long enough that I booked a refresher course. And we'll be diving with tour groups, not on his own." It wasn't his doing; his cousin had made the bookings. She owned the tour companies.

"Smart," Ashley said.

Shawn stirred on the couch as the jet landed. "Where are we?"

"Malta," Jon said.

"What's that?"

"It's a country in Europe."

"Yeah, but which one?"

Ashley laughed, and Jon rolled his eyes. Shawn grinned, as if realizing what he'd said.

"It's a little island," Ashley explained. "South of Italy."

"Yeah," Jon said. "People come from all over the world for the scuba diving."

Shawn's eyes widened, and he jumped up off the couch. "We're going scuba diving?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah! But . . ." He eyed Ashley. "You know how?"

"I do."

Shawn raced forward and threw his arms around her.

She squeezed him tight, then patted his back and let go. "Go grab your stuff. We're here."

Shawn shot a grin at Jon, and he raced off the jet. They grabbed their things, thanked the pilot, and headed to their new living arrangements for the next week.

Jon's cousin's little island shack where they were staying didn't have any bedrooms—it was all one big room—but at least it had three separate beds. There was a little refrigerator and stove in one corner, and a couch in another; the only separate room was the bathroom, which was thankfully large enough to change in.

But what the shack lacked in size, it made up for in location. The back patio had a little awning over a swing, and a small fence that opened onto the beach. The patio was covered in sand that had blown in. Shawn seemed to be more preoccupied with preparing for the dive than with where they were staying, but Jon could tell that Ashley was more than a little impressed. They spent a little time unloading before they had to head to their refresher course.

The course had them spend a couple of hours out of the water before they ever stepped foot in it, but Jon ended up being glad they'd booked it. There was quite a lot he'd forgotten, having focused on his teaching career for so long. But it wasn't just the training. It was the site they visited when they did dive.

Vibrant colors, more fish than he'd ever seen, clear waters. Jon felt like he was flying through some marine civilization. From what he'd read, most of the diving sites in Malta were more interesting because of their history—sunken wrecks and the like—but this spot was teeming with life. Jon found himself breathless with awe, for once forgetting about everything else going on in his life.

He almost forgot to check his air, but snapped out of it just before he was down to two-thirds of his supply. That was the rule: a third of the air was for the trip down, a third for the trip back up, and a third for emergencies. He made his way back to the surface with a little over a third of his supply to spare.

Shawn was as awe-struck, judging by his reaction on the way back to the shack. "That was so cool!" he kept saying. "Did you see that fish that came up to me? I think his name was Cory."

"I don't think he'll object to you calling him that," Jon said honestly, and Ashley winked at him, her eyes smiling.

"I've never gone diving anywhere that cool," Shawn said. "There were, like, barely any fish when we went. Just like, polluted waters, basically. Also empty swimming pools."

"Where did Feeny take you guys?" Jon asked.

"You think I remember?"

"Fair enough." Jon chuckled.

Shawn perked up again as they entered the shack. "Tomorrow, can we see a shipwreck?"

"That's the plan."

He grinned. "When's dinner?"

"We'll go grab something in an hour or two. Unless you're hungry now."

"I can wait. I'm gonna take a nap."

A nap sounded good to Jon, too. But he doubted he'd be able to sleep, with the thrill of the dive fresh on his mind. "Yeah, get some sleep."

Shawn didn't even bother changing out of his clothes. He just kicked off his shoes, lay down in his bed, and pulled the covers over himself.

Jon sighed, content, and looked over at Ashley, who had changed into a light yellow and orange sundress after the dive. She nodded toward the door, and he followed her out, where they sat on a little swing just outside the shack.

It couldn't have been a more perfect day. The sun still hung high in the sky, hot enough to sting the skin, but the sea breeze was cool enough to take the edge off, and Jon's hair was still damp from the ocean water.

"It's beautiful," Ashley said.

He looked over at her. Damp, scraggly curls hung in her face, and her sundress had been wrinkled in transit. But her face seemed to be almost glowing. "Yeah," he said. "Beautiful."

She looked over at him. "Shawn's happy," she said.

Jon sighed, leaning back in the seat. "Is he? Or is he pretending?"

"I don't think he's pretending."

"How do you know?"

"I think . . ." She shook her head. "He's keeping his eyes on what's in front of him."

"You don't think he's torn up on the inside?"

"Aren't you? Haven't you been for the past, I don't know, two years?"

Jon looked down at his hands.

"But right now . . . aren't you doing well?"

Jon lifted his eyes to the sand path leading down the patio and to the beach, the rolling waves, a few rock formations out in the water before endless blue waters gave way to endless blue sky. He looked over at the woman beside him, and he glanced over his shoulder through the back door—he could just make out Shawn lying on his bed, eyes closed, one arm hanging off the bed.

"Yeah," Jon said. "I am."

After dinner, they spent the evening hanging out on the beach, swimming and climbing around on the rock formations, but they were back inside shortly after dark. It had been a long day, and Jon was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The dive tour planned for the next day met a little further away from their shack, and they had to leave pretty early. Jon was once again thankful for the refresher course, because the tour guide didn't offer many last reminders before they hit the water. Jon was pretty sure he and Ashley could have figured it out, but it felt better not to have to worry about Shawn. Of course, Shawn had always been good with the practical tasks—like driving—but this was dangerous in a way that felt scarier than driving. Seeing him suiting up and preparing himself for the dive without any hesitation set Jon's mind at ease.

Especially when they got down to the wreck. It wasn't just interesting. It was, somehow, gorgeous. The ship had been huge, decks upon decks, and thick layers of algae grew on all surfaces, and a few fish swam in and out of the openings.

And then Shawn followed one of them into the wreck, through a gap between two decks of the ship.

Jon frowned. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with that, but down here, there was no good way to call out to Shawn and tell him off. The best Jon could do was follow.

The interior of the ship might have been every bit as fascinating and beautiful, if it didn't scare Jon out of his wits. It was dark, incredibly difficult to see, and he found himself feeling his way through, only catching glimpses now and then of Shawn's flippers or the bubbles rising from his air tank.

And then something shifted in the wood.

A huge cloud of dust and algae rose. The opening he'd been about to swim through was covered by a slat of wood—or maybe metal.

Jon tried to swim back the way he came, but the passage didn't allow him to turn all the way around, and he couldn't back away quick enough. The dust in the water continued to churn, and he couldn't see his way out.

Jon felt along the walls of the cavern. It felt like the passage he'd come in through was blocked. Frantically, he felt his way around every surface he could—blocked on all sides.

The dust settled, and the rumbling quieted.

And the cavern was still dark.