TW: Eating disorders, mentions of vomiting.

Three days later, Jon sent Shawn home with Cory after school to work on a school project.

He specifically wanted to be alone with Audrey before dinner.

But not for the reason he would have preferred.

He wanted to be in the kitchen, just the two of them without Shawn around, to watch her cooking habits and see if she really sampled as much as she claimed.

He'd tried to do this before, but with Shawn there were too many distractions to watch her closely enough. Shawn saw his questions as harassment and would spend ninety percent of his time "protecting" Audrey from him.

Jon leaned against the kitchen counter near the sink. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the sky grew dark, drawing his worry close around him.

Audrey chose to make an elaborate made-from-scratch chicken potpie and brownies. Cory and Shawn would be joining them for dinner and, she said, she wanted to make their favorite dessert while making sure they got the vegetables Shawn usually turned his nose up at.

He offered to cut the vegetables (Audrey never used frozen), but she handed him the chicken to debone instead. He couldn't help but notice she took the lowest calorie food to handle, and he almost said it too. But he caught himself with a reminder he was there to observe, not criticize.

While he was cleaning and trimming the chicken a loud boom of thunder was followed by a crack of lightning so bright it filled the kitchen. He was so startled he dropped the knife he was holding in the sink. A pain hit his chest. It took him a moment to regain his sight from the flash and realize that it was Audrey's sharp nails gripping him.

The lights and television flickered, went off, then came back on a few moments later.

"You okay?" he asked in a shaky breath. He dislodged her nails from his chest and turned around.

"I think so." Her eyes were wide and anxious.

"Sounded like it hit the buildin' next to us."

After they regrouped, they returned to their tasks and Jon resumed watching her. Through vegetable chopping and crust and filling making Jon never once saw her sample anything. While the pot pie was cooking, they started on the brownies. The Rangers game that had just started was suddenly interrupted by the local news station emergency weather report.

"…strong to severe thunderstorms are sweeping through the area this evening as a potent cold front passes through the Philadelphia region. Several tornado warnings have been issued for parts of New Jersey, Delaware, and Pennsylvania while the greater Philadelphia area remains under a severe thunderstorm warning…"

Concerned, Jon put the hand mixer down and joined Audrey in the living room.

Tornados were not a common occurrence in Philadelphia at any time of year. Briefly Jon wondered if the apartment building had a storm shelter and where it was if it did. It wasn't something he'd ever thought about before.

While the meteorologist was detailing the seriousness of the incoming weather, he put one hand on his waist and the other on Audrey's shoulder. "I hope Alan hasn't left to bring the boys over yet," he remarked.

"Maybe you should call him."

He walked over to the desk where the phone sat. Just as he put his hand on the receiver it rang.

It was Alan.

"The boys are stayin' with the Matthews for dinner," he told her after the short call.

"Good," she said leaning into him. "I don't want them out in this."

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. She rubbed her nose against his chest with a small sigh then resumed her baking.

It was fortuitous that the boys would be delayed.

Audrey was in a good mood although she seemed jumpy to him. Her typically collected, laidback demeanor was on edge. Thunder in particular made her jump.

Normally she loved storms.

She passed behind him, bumping him gently. "Jonny, would you set the table for me?"

Jon moved to oblige but as he reached into the cutlery drawer, he glanced at the table then the living room and had an idea.

"Hey," he said to her in a low, deep voice.

She looked up at him with a curious expression.

He moved closer to her, caught her by the waist, and spun her around. "Let's eat in the livin' room," he suggested kissing the tip of her nose.

This display of affection seemed to fluster her more.

"Why do you want to eat in there?"

A sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "No kids. No Feeny."

Audrey stared at him.

The smirk grew. He slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her again, tender and lingering.

That was a mistake.

It was his concern that was the reason he wanted the change in seating. The closer she was the less likely he felt he would be to miss anything unusual with her eating habits. But being alone with her was testing the strength of his willpower. Between that and his concern for her he felt like a bomb on countdown, moments away from zero.

In the back of his mind, he was positive that he was going about this all wrong. In all the books he'd read there really was no conclusive information about how family members should stage an intervention, just that they should. Without any guide, he had no choice but to blindly stumble through.

Jon took the plates of steaming hot potpies and set them on the coffee table. Audrey joined him with a tray of iced tea and salads which Jon assumed was the only thing she would eat. When she tried to take her normal position in the middle of the couch, he put his hands on her hips and moved her to his usual place in the corner. Sitting as close to her as he could, he encouraged her to put her legs over his lap.

A small frown crossed her face. "Isn't that going to make eating difficult?"

"I'll manage," he winked at her with a look that made her blush. The crimson that flooded her cheeks made him feel a little guilty about his motivation for behaving like he was.

He handed her the tray with her dinner on it and tried as hard as he could to leave her alone while they ate. Thunder continued to shake the building. Periodically the lights and television flickered on and off.

When he saw her playing with her food more than eating it, a fierce internal struggle not to take the spoon and feed her ensued.

"Too hot?" he asked.

"Needs salt," she said wrinkling her nose.

Jon got up and retrieved the seasoning despite her protest not to. He pretended not to hear her over the storm outside.

To his great surprise, she salted the potpie, handed the shaker back to him, then began to eat. And continued to until she caught him staring at her with mouth agape.

"What?" she asked suddenly self-conscious.

He quickly shut his mouth and, without too much of a fumble, managed to get out, "I just can't believe we're finally alone. Like this. I never thought we'd get this far before May was over."

She gave an awkward laugh.

With any attention on her, she would not eat, he noted. So he turned his focus to the hockey game, keeping her in his periphery vision.

She started to eat again.

Then she got up to get him and herself seconds. Jon didn't know what to make of that and began to worry he misjudged the situation.

Maybe Shawn was right.

After dinner, he took the dishes to the kitchen and asked if she wanted him to bring her a brownie. She said yes so, he cut the dessert and returned to the living room more in doubt than before.

The storm outside surged on.

As the game entered the second period, the Rangers were ahead by two and Jon had a strange anxious feeling that something bad was about to happen.

The Rangers increased their lead to four.

Audrey curled up against him. Absently he massaged her feet and calves.

"I should go do the dishes," she said when intermission started.

As she started to slip her feet away from him that sense of impending doom increased, and thunder shook the building again.

The storm was growing violent.

He grabbed her feet. "They can wait until mornin'."

The intensity of his grip and his voice worried her.

"What's wrong?"

He forced himself to relax and cheekily pulled her onto his lap. "It's probably not a good idea to be doin' dishes with all the lightnin' outside."

She blinked and gave him a look he worried was one of suspicion.

"And," he said in a husky voice, "We never have time alone." He kissed the curve of her neck and ran his hand lightly down her arm. "Don't wanna waste it."

Audrey's expression was easy to read: is this a good idea?

No.

No, it wasn't.

Things could get out of hand very quickly.

So he brought up Shawn whom they discussed until the third period began. Jon was still unsettled, both because he wanted her closer than she was and because of that sense of dread that refused to leave him alone.

A few minutes into the period, the game was interrupted by another weather update: there was a tornado watch now in effect.

Immediately, Audrey was out of his lap and pacing the room.

He twisted around on the couch to watch her. She looked pale and very agitated.

"I wanna go get Shawn."

Jon frowned. "He's safe where he is, Aud. It wouldn't be safe for us to go get him."

"I don't like him being away from us in this kind of weather. I want him home." She was trembling.

He had never seen her so rattled by a storm.

She continued to pace and twist her hair into knots. He could not convince her to come back to him.

Thunder cracked so loudly the mugs on the expandable rack at the end of the kitchen cabinets shook. Jon turned in time to see her run to the bathroom just before the apartment was plunged into darkness.

He swore under his breath as he got up and stumbled to the closet. He stubbed his toe twice and hit his hand several times trying to locate the flashlight. Just as his hand closed around it, he heard a strange sound coming from the bathroom.

Water was running.

In the bathtub.

What in the world is she doin'?

He couldn't believe she would be taking a bath in this weather and a power outage.

She was too sensible for that.

The possible reason made his blood run cold.

She was too sensible for that.

"Audrey?" Jon pressed against the bathroom door. "You okay?

No response.

"Hey, Aud."

No response.

He turned the doorknob. It was locked.

"AUDREY!"

Jon pulled away from the door, turned to the side, and lowered his shoulder before slamming into the door. The flimsy lock gave way immediately.

The water in the bath and sink was running at full blast. Audrey was kneeling in front of the toilet making herself throw up.

His heart dropped to the floor as the cold realization that all his suspicions were true sank in.

How long has this been going on?

Audrey's past came to mind: Julliard.

She left Julliard suddenly and refused to explain why.

This was why.

This was the health issue Richie mentioned when they visited him during the NYC trip.

The water- she was running the water to hide the sound of what she was doing.

Jon sank to his knees behind her, put his arms around her, and pulled her away from the toilet bowl.

She fought him.

Not out of anger but out of fear.

She was terrified he knew the truth.

But she couldn't fight long. She was too tired.

Too weak.

Too embarrassed.

Thoughts and information sifted through his mind so rapidly he couldn't make sense of them. Fighting back tears, Jon shut his thoughts off and focused on taking care of her. All the training she'd given him in taking care of a sick teen, he poured back into her.

She was blazing hot and sweating profusely. He gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly. With one hand he reached over the edge of the bathtub and shut off the water. He stood, carried her over to the sink, and turned the faucet handle to let it run as cold as it could get.

Then he picked her up and held her on his hip while he grabbed the flashlight and headed to the linen closet to retrieve a washcloth. She hung limply over his shoulders while agony coughed out of her in spurts.

In the closet, he found an old camping lantern that thankfully still worked.

Back in the bathroom he set her down on the counter and placed the lamp in the corner where it cast a large light in the small room.

Audrey's breath escaped through parted lips, ragged and pained. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, trying to get her to look at him. She looked everywhere else then finally closed her eyes. He brushed the hair sticking to her sweat-laced brow out of the way and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips.

A pained cry escaped her chest as she repeatedly muttered that she didn't deserve him, that he shouldn't waste his time with her.

He kissed her again. She put her hand over his mouth.

She was grotesque, she was filthy, she smelled.

She tried to push him away with her words.

Stay away.

Stay away.

She was too weak to push him away physically.

He pressed her against him and countered every word against herself with "I love you".

He then kissed her once more and reached behind her to soak the washcloth in water. He rang it out and wiped her face, stopping to kiss away the tears and refresh the rag several times.

When he was finished with her face, he reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. When she realized what he was going to do she refused to open her mouth.

She was gross and dirty. She would contaminate his toothbrush.

He put the toothbrush down and did the only thing he knew to do. Taking her face between his palms, he lovingly caressed her cheeks with his thumbs before kissing her full on the mouth.

Her breath was hot, just like the rest of her. Her lips were parched and cracked. He didn't notice anything but her scent set on fire: chocolate and peppermint boiled on the surface of her skin, lemons and oranges baked in her hair.

It wasn't a kiss of passion he gave her, but of promise.

A promise to always be there, no matter what happened.

No matter how bad.

No matter how sick.

At first, she didn't respond then she melted into him clutching the back of his shirt tightly.

Jon picked up the toothbrush again, put the toothpaste on it, and wiggled it between her lips.

She didn't refuse this time.

He gently rubbed the brush over her teeth, assuming her mouth hurt from vomiting. Every so often he used the tip of the brush to nudge her mouth open a little wider so he could see if there was any damage to her teeth.

Corrosion of enamel was a sign of long-term purging he knew.

He inched the lantern closer, talking to her in low soothing tones, as he gently examined her mouth. From what he could see her teeth looked normal. He repressed a sigh, hoping he wasn't seeing only what he wanted to see.

After finishing with her teeth, he helped her slide off the counter and rinse her mouth out with water from his cup .

When he picked her up, her tears began again, hot and heavy.

Choked, broken sobs.

By the time he got her to the couch those choked broken sobs were also coming from him.

He wrapped her in the throw he had on the back of the couch. She trembled and shuddered against him and through the sobs pushed out apologies for being a burden, for being imperfect, for being broken.

She told him it was okay to leave. She understood. She would leave her too.

But that was the last thing Jon wanted to do. Never in his life had he wanted to stay more than he did at that moment.

"I love you," he reminded her over and over.

Audrey shook her head weakly. "No," she whispered. Her voice was raspy and frail. "You shouldn't. You'll waste your life on me."

She then explained in great detail the woman that was right for him, the woman he should love, the woman he should leave her to find: voluptuous, tan, pouty lips, a professional, and a blonde.

She was so hung up on physical appearance. Her entire worth was tied up in a twisted image of physical perfection.

In her mind, she was inferior and homely, bordering on unintelligent.

She was incapable of seeing the beauty that he held in his arms, a beauty that was so vibrant it was sometimes hard for him to look directly at her. A beauty that didn't lie on the surface to be stripped away with time but one that was fused into the core of her being.

And she simply couldn't see it.

His heart broke and he struggled to breathe in the waves of emotion that assaulted him. He pressed her as close to him as he could. Whimpers into his chest was all that was coming out of her now. Her throat was raw, and her voice was gone.

He knew moving forward was going to be hard.

He knew there would be setbacks.

He knew it could be a never-ending cycle of relapses, lying, anger, denial, recovery.

He knew she might never overcome this.

He knew her past; he knew her present. More than anything, he wanted to know her future.

Looking down at her all he could see was her hair, messily sprawled over them both. The flame of her tresses was dulled to embers, matted and damp with sweat, the length tangled and twisted into thin strands. Her breath was erratic and jagged, but the sorrowful gulps of weeping he heard were not coming from her.

They were coming from him.

He was holding her at her weakest point, he realized.

And he loved her so much more than before he broke open the bathroom door.

Audrey was lying on his bed curled into a small ball, quiet and still. Jon lay facing her on top of the covers, rubbing her back and kissing her forehead.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess as her story weighed heavily on his mind. The worst part wasn't that he didn't know what to do, but that he did.

He had to contact her therapist.

He had to send her back to New York.

He could get her help in Philadelphia, but that would mean starting over. In the City at least she would know everyone involved getting her that help.

She wouldn't have to overcome trust issues in addition to everything else.

What he didn't know was how to let her go alone. She had no one in the City. Her father's parents died years ago, and the rest of his family was in California. Audrey had never met most of them and he refused to trust her to strangers, blood or not.

Her grandparents on her mother's side were also gone. She had family she knew but they were an ocean away with young families of their own. He didn't know if they would even be able to come over.

He couldn't let her go alone, but going with her was out of the question.

Shawn wasn't the issue, either.

He was sure he could figure out how to take the teen with them. Chet certainly wouldn't care where his kid was as long as he didn't have to take care of him. But in order for him to go, he'd have to take family leave which meant going to Feeny and explaining why he needed it.

He thought about every way possible to get around that, but he saw no real options. He couldn't claim family emergency. George knew he wasn't in contact with his family. He couldn't claim Audrey's dad as the family emergency because that would beg explanation. Audrey had always gone alone before so what reason would he have to go and take the rest of the year off?

He and Shawn could take her and stay the weekend, maybe stay over an extra day. But then they'd have to leave.

He could try to arrange for someone in England to come over.

Audrey's breathing was coming in slower, deeper breaths now. Jon ran his fingers through the touchable fire he loved so much.

Eli was always telling him he needed a little color in his life.

His best friend was right.

Jon couldn't believe he ever had a strong preference for blondes.

Audrey whimpered in her sleep and tensed up. He froze, unsure of what to do. She burrowed as close to him as she could get, burying her face against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and resumed rubbing her back.

He had to send her home.

But he couldn't let her go.

Shawn burst through the door just before 9 pm. He was excited to tell Jon and Audrey about the crazy light show he and Cory watched from the treehouse before Mr. Matthews hauled them back to the house and raged at them for being stupid.

His excitement died on his lips as he surveyed the empty room.

No one was in the living room. The dishes were still in the sink, unwashed.

He turned around slowly, trying to figure out where his teachers were hiding. He stopped when he was facing the door to Jon's room.

A slow smile spread over his face.

He smirked.

Then he frowned.

That would be out of character for them given the situation.

Before Shawn could wonder what was going on, Jon walked out of the bedroom. He didn't look happy nor annoyed that Shawn was home so soon.

He looked like he'd been crying.

Shawn felt sick.

Jon did not cry.

When his teacher didn't so much as offer a greeting, panic seized him. "Where's Audrey?"

Jon moved slowly to the couch. "She's asleep."

He gave Shawn a weary, gloomy look then motioned for the teen to join him. "Shawn, sit down. We need to talk."

A cold lump settled in his stomach as he dropped obediently into the space next to Jon.

"Is Audrey okay?"

The pain in Jon's eyes scared him. Instinctively, he kicked off his shoes and pulled his knees to his chest. He hugged himself tightly as though to protect himself from what was coming.

"No, she's not." Jon closed his eyes and pressed his thumbs into the bridge of his nose. "She's really sick, Shawn."

"Like how sick?" He tried to moisten his lips but his whole mouth had gone dry.

"Like we have to take her back to New York sick."

The words bounced off him. "What's wrong?"

"Bulimia."

"An eatin' disorder?"

"Right."

"Which one is that?"

"The one where you make yourself throw up after you eat."

These words did not make sense. Not when Jon was trying to tie Audrey up in them.

"Are you sure? I've never seen her do that."

"She was doin' it tonight."

"Maybe it was a one time thing." Shawn was reeling from the implication of what taking her back to New York meant.

It sounded final.

"It's not. She's been dealin' with this for a long time."

"But not throwin' up." Shawn refused to accept this assessment of the woman he'd come to view as his mother. "Jon, we'd know if she was. She's always with us. You're wrong."

"She told me."

"Told you what?"

"She doesn't always throw up because we're always around."

"But you're still accusin' her of throwin' up."

"She does. When she doesn't it's because she drinks a bottle or two of laxatives. Same effect."

A dark weight settled over Shawn as he looked back over the months they'd spent with her. There was one very odd thing about Audrey- she always knew where the bathrooms were wherever they went. If she didn't know it was the first thing she found out.

Shawn thought it was just a quirk of hers.

She said it was.

Audrey never lied.

Not to him.

"So she stops drinkin' laxatives."

Jon ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "It's not that simple, Shawn."

"Why not?" Jon's stubborn pursuit to find something wrong with his mother was infuriating.

"Bulimia isn't a medical condition it's psychological."

"Meanin'?" Shawn knew what it meant. He'd heard it before, but in regard to addiction and alcoholism.

Like Chet and Virna.

A panic swelled up in Shawn as he realized what that meant.

No, this is wrong! His mind screamed. Because if it was true, it would mean Audrey was the same as his so-called parents.

He refused to accept this.

She was the dead opposite of Virna.

Jon was wrong.

He had to be.

"Shawn, I'm callin' Audrey's advisor in the mornin'." Jon's voice was heavy with resignation. "She said he knows about the eatin' disorder. He'll make up a reason for her to go home. I'm takin' the next two days off to make arrangements."

"Arrangements for what?"

"For her to get treatment. There's an in-patient center in the Village. It's close to her place and it's where she was treated before."

Before? Shawn felt numb. After a long moment of studying his teacher critically, he said, "So are you gonna marry her then?"

Jon was caught off guard by the question. "Not now, no. Where'd that come from?"

"Well, how are you gonna do all this? I thought you had to be married or related to someone to do stuff like this to them."

"Yeah, to force someone into treatment." He sighed. "But Aud's agreed to go."

He was convinced Jon wasn't thinking this through. "Then how are you gonna explain us to her doctors? How are you gonna explain us to Feeny?"

Jon reached over and did something he'd never done before. He took Shawn's hand and held it. Shawn once saw Mr. Matthews do this to Cory when they were little kids and he had to tell his son the only dog they'd ever had didn't survive being hit by a car.

Shawn wanted to run.

He thought he was going to throw up.

"Shawn, there isn't gonna be any explainin'. We will take her up there this weekend, and we will come back here."

His mind kept rejecting what Jon was saying. "You're just gonna leave her alone?"

"She won't be alone." Jon let go of his hand. "You know her advisor is an old family friend. He'll stay with her until someone from her mom's side of the family can come over."

Shawn stared at him with mouth agape. An inexplicable rage engulfed him, and he jumped to his feet.

"So you're dumpin' her?!"

The accusation was like a physical blow to Jon. "I'm not dumpin' her.

"Yes, you are!" he shouted as fear got the best of him. "She's sick and you're passin' her off to someone else, so it doesn't inconvenience you!"

A shocking realization hit him so hard he saw two of Jon for a moment.

This is what Dad would do!

Chet would take off on Virna when she was sick, leave her for someone else to take care of, and come back when she was better.

Because her being sick was an inconvenience to him.

And Chet couldn't be inconvenienced.

Jon was just like Chet.

A wave of nausea hit him.

I'll throw up on Jon for this, he decided.

Clapping his hand over his ears he tried to silence the cognitive dissonance that overwhelmed him. He just couldn't accept that these two people with whom he had formed a real family were just like his old one.

Jon couldn't be Chet.

Audrey couldn't be Virna.

They just couldn't be.

Everything would be a lie if they were.

"Shawn, sit down!" Jon commanded, raising his voice above the noise in the teen's head.

"I am not dumpin' her." Pain bled through every word. "But I have to do what's best for her. And that's to take her home and get her in treatment with people who know her and her history."

Her history?

Shawn squatted on the couch feeling weak and woozy. "What history?"

Jon heaved a heavy sigh and flopped back against the couch. "You know she attended Julliard and dropped out."

"Yeah."

"She collapsed in the middle of a Swan Lake rehearsal where she was the lead. That's how the school found out about her eatin' disorder."

"How long?" he asked so quietly Jon almost didn't hear him.

"Since she was thirteen."

"That's how old she was when her mom died."

Jon nodded.

"She was forced into a caretaker role she had no business bein' in, but she had to do it," he tried to explain. "She didn't get a chance to grieve her mother really; she basically lost her dad, too. She had no say in what went on afterwards. And there's ballet itself- where so much of her life was controlled by others and based around physical appearance. It's a perfect storm for all this."

Shawn blinked. He understood feeling like everyone controlled you and you had no say in anything. But the ballet stuff didn't make sense to him. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Jon put a comforting hand on the teen's knee. "She said she had several instructors single her out in class and tell her she was too heavy and needed to lose weight."

"Audrey?" Shawn could not imagine Audrey not fitting the perfect ballerina image.

"She said she weighed then about what she weighs now."

The teen's mouth fell open. "But she's so small. How could anyone say she's not?"

"Ballet's a pretty cutthroat world, surprisingly. And cruel. Audrey said it was common for girls to be pulled to the center of the studio and have every flaw pointed out. They said Aud was too short, too hippy, too busty. If she lost weight, then it was somethin' different. There was always something wrong with her."

"Whoa," Shawn breathed. His heart broke for her, but he was still confused. "Why'd she wanna keep dancin' if it was so bad?"

Jon shrugged. "Lifelong dream, I guess."

They sat in somber silence for several minutes before Shawn spoke again. "You aren't really sendin' her back alone, are you?"

"I have no choice."

"But we're her family."

"I know."

"Why can't she stay here?"

"Because it'll be easier for her with doctors she knows."

"New York isn't that far."

Jon arched an eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look. He could see the teen was plotting something.

"I mean people commute there all the time." Shawn was staring into space, lost in thought.

"It's a couple of hours."

"But people do it."

"What are you suggestin'?"

Shawn turned to face him fully. "Can't we take her for appointments and stuff?"

"It's in-patient, Shawn. She has to stay."

He wrinkled his nose and put a finger over his mouth. "Is this as bad as before?"

Jon considered the question. "Not accordin' to her."

"So maybe she doesn't have to stay?"

"Shawn…"

"I mean, wouldn't a doctor have to check her out anyway? What if they say she's not so bad and doesn't have to stay?"

Jon fell silent, deep in thought.

"Couldn't you call her doctor and at least ask?" he pleaded.

"She does have to be evaluated," Jon admitted.

"And if they say she doesn't have to stay?"

"Maybe." Jon took a deep breath. "Maybe we could work somethin' out."

Shawn sagged against him in relief.

"Shawn."

He looked up at his teacher worriedly.

"We have to do what's best for her. Not us."

"I know." Shawn pushed his hair out of his face. "But I also know she needs us. We can't just leave her. We just can't."

Jon nodded. He took Shawn's hand again and squeezed it. "Get ready for bed, huh."

Shawn stood up. "Are you gonna sleep with her tonight?"

He nodded again. "I can't leave her alone."

The teen gave him a self-conscious shrug. "You care if I join you?"

Jon stood and clapped a hand affectionately on his shoulder. "It's a big bed, kid. We can make it work."

Tears stung Shawn's eyes as he stared at his teacher. "Is she gonna be okay?" he asked quietly.

Jon wasn't Chet and Audrey wasn't Virna. But the thought that she was struggling with something even distantly related to Virna's issues upset him in ways he couldn't understand, much less explain.

He was desperate for reassurance.

"I don't know, Shawn," Jon answered honestly. "I hope. She's askin' for help this time. So maybe that's a good sign."

Tears dripped down his cheeks. "I don't wanna lose her."

Jon's face reflected Shawn's. He'd already cried more that night than he had in his entire life. He reached out to Shawn and the teen eagerly accepted his embrace.

"I don't either, Shawn. I don't want to live Richie's life and I don't want you to live Aud's life. It's too much of a waste."

Shawn gripped Jon's shoulders as he tried to stifle his cries.

Jon put a hand on top of his head. Shawn could almost swear Jon kissed the top of his head.

"We gotta take care of her, huh?" Jon said. There was a far-off look in his eyes. "No matter what. You and me. We take care of her."

Shawn nodded and held onto Jon for a moment longer. Still nodding he took off to his room to get ready for bed.

The next morning, Shawn woke up around five to see Jon coming back to bed. Jon told him none of them were going into school that day. He went back to sleep missing most of the explanation on how his teacher managed that.

When he woke for good, Audrey was already sitting up in bed next to Jon, who was holding her. Shawn sat up and threw his arms around her suddenly, then worried that he'd hurt her in his clumsiness. She kissed the top of his head and gave him a tired smile. Jon reached out to pull him closer to them. They huddled together without saying anything until late in the morning.

Thank you so much for spending time with me. :) See you soon.