Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If anyone asked Shawn why he was so weird about commitment, he'd say he didn't know.

That would be a lie, but it's what he'd say.

If he were to be honest, he'd say that he was scared he wouldn't be able to. That he'd still leave. Leave his family, his friends, and everyone behind. Because that's what people in his family did. They left. They ran. And they never looked back.

Throughout highschool, Shawn had gone out with dozens of girls for short periods of time.

But that was before one certain girl…

Angela.

Shawn was never one to be dramatic but he was absolutely head over heels in love with the girl.

The problem was that Angela broke up with him after one date, because she knew he was bad with commitment. He thought he could be better, for her, but if she didn't think so, then what was the point? 

And since then, he hadn't gone out with anyone else. So, yeah, Shawn maybe had a little bit of a problem.

And when Shawn has a problem, Cory decides that it's his job to fix it. Because Cory– Shawn had accepted over roughly twelve years of friendship– had an unfortunate habit of meddling.

"Shawnie, we're going out tonight," was the first thing Shawn heard from his friend when he got to school that morning.

Shawn shut his locker door. "What?"

Topanga walked over and opened her own locker.

"Those two girls from our science class asked me if they could do a double date with us at Chubbie's after school."

"Maria and Jen?"

"Yeah, I think those are their names."

Shawn saw Topanga's eye twitch. 

"Well, I guess you can tell them I said yes," Shawn said.

"Oh, I already did."

"But you only just asked him now," Topanga pointed out.

"But I knew he'd say yes. Come on, it's Shawn Hunter! The lady killer, the casanova, the-"

"The guy who hasn't dated anyone in like a year," Topanga said.

"You really just agreed to a double date like that?" Shawn asked. "Jeez, I'm having like… reverse deja vu."

"Reverse deja vu?"

"I feel like we've had this exact conversation. Except I should be standing there," he said pointing at Cory's feet. "But, sure I'll go on this date. It'll be fun."

"Just a little fling to get you out of your dating lull."

Shawn laughed. Right. That's all this was. A dating lull. He'd be back in the game, going out with a new girl every week, just like he used to. 

×××

Jack definitely had to be having an anxiety attack. Yeah, that was the only possible explanation as to why his palms were sweating and his heart was racing and he had butterflies in his stomach. 

It had nothing to do with him walking in on his roommate making out with a girl. The two had pushed off each other as soon as the door opened, so Jack really didn't see anything happening, just how disheveled Eric's shirt and freshly cut hair looked after. 

The girl cleared her throat and got off the couch. "I'm going to go now," she said. "Call me later, Eric." 

"Right, of course," Eric said, trying to smooth the wrinkles on his shirt. 

The girl left, and Jack put his bag down on the counter, taking out his laptop, almost dropping it. He rubbed his sweaty palms into his jeans. What was up with him?

"So who was that?" Jack found himself asking. 

"Denise," Eric said. He turned his head, and Jack could see a bruise on his neck. Yikes. "A girl from my science class. I buy the drinks for her dorm parties."

"Must be a perk of being older than all the other students, huh?" 

"Yeah, I guess," Eric said with a shrug, and Jack cursed himself for bringing it up, he knew how insecure Eric was about being an almost twenty-two year old sophomore in college. 

"Do you, uh… you do that with all the girls you buy drinks for?"

"No, that's just how we became friends."

"Oh, friends." Jack sat down on the couch, nudging his roommate. "You do that with all your friends, then?"

Eric got a look in his eyes Jack couldn't place. "I don't do it with you," he said plainly.

"Right…" Jack decided it was time for him to get working on his homework. 

There was a knock on the door that sounded more like a kick than a knock. "Door's open!" Eric said.

"Yeah, dumbass, my hands are full!" the voice on the other side yelled. Ah. Eddie was home.

Eric got up and opened the door, grabbing one of the grocery bags from Eddie. Eddie very obviously looked at Eric's neck. "That's gnarly. Jack, what did we say about leaving hickeys on your boyfriends?"

Jack huffed. "You're so disgusting," he snapped, standing up and storming off. 

"Dude, sorry, it was just a joke-" 

"Come on, man, you know he's not like that," Jack heard Eric say just as he was closing the door to his room.

"Right, obviously," Eddie said. "I was just giving him shit. Like in a brotherly way, you know?"

"I know, but he's weirdly sensitive about that kind of joke."

"Maybe because he is-"

Jack slammed the door. He didn't need to hear any more. He threw himself onto his bed, turning so he was staring up at the ceiling. 

He looked up at the Polaroids taped to the headboard of his bed. There were a bunch of him and his sister. And there were a few of him and Eric. 

Eric was his best friend, that much was obvious. There was something about him that absolutely captivated Jack. His hazel eyes, his sandy brown hair, his movie star smile. The way he opened bottles on the edge of the counter, his large collection of cozy sweaters, his-

Oh shit.

Fuck.

×××

Eddie knocked on his brother's door. "Jack? Can I come in? I just want to apologize."

"Fuck off, man."

Eddie opened the door anyway, and saw Jack was sitting in bed, his legs criss-crossed, looking down at some Polaroids in his hand. 

"Hey, I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean anything by what I said."

"But you did mean something. You mean you look at me and think I'm some sort of fa-"

"Okay, well, I'm gonna cut you off there," Eddie said, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was obvious Jack had just gotten done crying. "I'm not gonna lie and say that I never made any assumptions about your sexuality, because I totally have-"

"What assumptions?"

"Oh, I thought you had a crush on Eric for a while."

Jack crumpled one of the Polaroids in his hand. "Well, thanks for apologizing, you can leave me alone now," he said, forcefully.

Eddie sighed, trying to think of the right words to say. "And there would be nothing wrong if, like, you were gay."

"I'm… I don't know. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"I'm sorry, man, I really am." 

Jack shook his head. "I need to work on my school work."

"Okay."

×××

Stacy was grading worksheets at the kitchen island while Nebula finished dinner. Topanga was in her room working on homework. Everything was calm.

Which of course can't last, not in Stacy Hunter's life.

Not when her youngest brother storms into the apartment without knocking and throws himself onto the couch ever so dramatically. 

"Kid? Are you okay?" Stacy asked.

"I hate Cory."

"No you don't, he's your favorite person in the world," Stacy said. 

"What exactly is your problem with him?" Nebula asked.

"He set us up on this double date with some girls at school, and I totally didn't like the girl I was with, and when I tried to get Cory to switch with me, he…" Shawn trailed off. "Actually I'm seeing where maybe I was in the wrong."

"You went on a date today?" 

"Yeah? Why do you seem surprised? I'm the casanova, remember?" 

Stacy felt Nebula wrap her arms around her shoulders. "Well, it's just that you haven't been on a single date since that girl broke up with you."

"Angela," Shawn corrected. "And she didn't really break up with me, because we weren't together. It was one date…" He sat up, his leg bouncing. "I wasn't in love with her or anything. It's not like she was the only girl I ever felt a connection with." Clearly this had been eating at the kid for a while. "I just wish she had given me a chance. What, just because a few girls said I was shit at commitment, I'm not worth a second date?"

"Language."

"And now I can't even make it through a double date with a gorgeous cheerleader. Have I completely lost my game?"

"Maybe it's the glasses," Nebula joked. "You haven't dated since you got them."

 "Maybe it is. Maybe it's just everything about me. I just drive people away, you know that." 

Stacy sighed. She had no idea how to deal with this. So she decided to dump the problem onto someone else. "Topanga!" she called.

Topanga walked into the living room. "Yeah? Oh, hey Shawn."

"Your friend is a heartbroken little baby," Stacy said.

"Is this about that date you had today?"

Shawn nodded. "I just didn't connect with her at all. I used to be fine if I didn't immediately connect with a girl! What's my problem?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," Topanga said, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "You got a taste of what actual romantic love is and now you won't be happy with a girl unless she makes you feel that same way. And I think that's a reasonable way to feel. But you have to give these girls a chance, and see if you feel that same connection."

"I miss Angela."

"Shawn. You cannot stay hung up on her. If it's meant to be, it'll happen."

"I should call her…"

Topanga's eye twitched, and she looked over to Stacy. "He's my least favorite best friend." Then she looked lost in thought. "Actually that's a lie. It's Cory. He's a meddler. He meddles. And now Shawn's here."

Stacy laughed, before covering it up with a cough. "I'll be right back, I'm just going next door for a second," she said, before giving Nebula a kiss on the cheek. 

She went over to the guys' apartment, walking in without knocking. Huh, maybe that's where Shawn gets it from…

Jack and Eddie were sitting at the kitchen table, not talking, which was totally out of character, usually they didn't shut up. It ran in the family, never shutting up, that is.

"Guys, your brother is absolutely pathetic," Stacy said, before taking a seat on the table. "He's positively heartbroken over a girl who broke up with him a year ago."

"And what do you want us to do about it?" Eddie asked.

"Nothing. Don't do anything. Just be encouraging if he comes to you with his dating problems. And don't meddle. Because I know how some people are when their friends or siblings have problems. They meddle. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page here."

"But… if he comes to us with his problem, shouldn't we try to help?" Jack asked. 

Stacy shook her head. "Listen, out of the three of us, who has the best track record with long term relationships? Jack?"

"I had a girlfriend in senior year," Jack said.

"Uh huh. Eddie?"

"Longest relationship I ever had was one month," Eddie said. "There were a lot of hookups though."

"You're disgusting," Jack muttered.

Eddie sighed wistfully. "I should call her…"

Stacy shook her head. "I've been with my girlfriend for seven years-"

"Seven years? At what point do you just automatically become wives?"

"Soon as it's legal," Stacy deadpanned. "My point is, I know relationships. If it's meant to be, it'll happen. Don't -"

"Meddle," the guys said at once.

"Thank you."

If Stacy was being honest, she'd say that she had no idea how to approach this situation. 

She had been with her girlfriend for seven years, but she was also her only girlfriend. She never had to date around to find the perfect person. Shit, was Nebula even her perfect person? How could she know? 

Oh, that thought was giving Stacy a stomach ache. She decided to go back to her apartment, and cuddle up with her girlfriend on the couch and watch bad horror movies for the next few hours.

While sitting there, she grabbed Nebula's left hand and looked at the promise ring Stacy had gotten her for Christmas. 

Nebula was Stacy's perfect person. She had to be.

Right?

Chapter Text

Shawn was looking through his locker for his homework for poetry class (he was taking the advanced one now, and had convinced Cory and Topanga to take it with him. They were only allowed to if they tested into it, since they didn't take the first poetry class. Cory got the answers from Shawn.) when someone knocked on his locker door. He peeked his head around and saw Topanga. 

"Hey, Panga."

"I'm going to the movies with Cory and another friend tonight. Do you want to come with us?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll go," he said, shutting his locker. "Come on, I don't want to be late."

The two of them walked side by side to class. Topanga, ever the teacher's pet, sat in the very front row. Shawn sat in the back. One seat behind Cory, just like every year since they were in a classroom with rows. And in the seat next to Shawn was Angela. 

He had to get over her. It was hard, though, because they still talked all the time, because they were friends and had similar interests. But they pretty much never saw each other outside of school, so it was fine.

"Hey, Shawn, are you going to the movie later?" was the first thing Angela said when she saw him.

Shawn coughed. "What?"

"Topanga, Cory and I are going to the movies later, she said she was gonna ask if you wanted to come with."

"Yeah, I am. She asked me already. You're the other friend?"

"Oh, sure. Topanga and I hung out a lot over the summer. She said it was nice finally having another girl to hang with. And you know, I'm already friends with you, so it just seemed natural for us to all be like a little group."

Shawn didn't want them to be a little group. He wanted to keep his friends and his crush separate. 

But maybe this was the best course of action. Grouping her in with his other friends would maybe make him finally accept that's all she would be to him. Friends.

Shawn was really shit at the whole casanova thing, he realized as he sat in class, chancing glances at the girl next to him. The girl who was the last person he ever kissed, a little less than a year ago. He really did need to get over it. 

"Alright, class-" Shawn was snapped out of his internal monologue when Turner started speaking. "Today we're going to look at a few more of Shakespeare's sonnets."

Shawn's adoptive father had been recovering from the accident fairly well. He had to use a cane more often than not, and he had officially decided he was never getting on a motorcycle again. But they went to France at the end of summer, and he was back teaching, and all in all everything was okay in Shawn's book.

×××

Stacy set her lunch tray down at the usual table, trying to figure out what the mystery sludge with peas and carrots was supposed to be.

"Hey, guys," Stacy said to Jonathan and George. "Did you hear what happened to the media arts teacher?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Stacy, you're aware I'm the principal, yes?"

"Shit, sorry."

"Language. You're in a school."

Stacy smiled nervously. "Sorry, sorry. So what are we gonna do about that?"

"Well, it's not the first time a teacher has been suddenly fired and we need a replacement," Jon pointed out. "Just look at you, you wouldn't have your job if it weren't for that."

"I wouldn't have my job as principal if it weren't for that happening," George added.

"Oh, the old principal wasn't fired suddenly," Stacy said. "He retired early. And suddenly."

"How do you know that?" Jonathan asked.

"He announced he was retiring like a month before I graduated. I remember when I got suspended for a week for punching a guy and he was all, 'stuff like this is why I'm retiring early' which honestly, as a teacher, I understand what he was saying."

"Wait, so, mine and Feeny's first year here was your first year out of highschool?"

"Yeah. Then I went to college and now I'm here." Stacy posed with her hands framing her face. "And aren't you lucky I'm here."

Jon shook his head. "I always forget how young you are, Stace."

"Freshly twenty-four, baby. Can you believe I've only been here for three years?"

"It certainly feels longer," George deadpanned. 

"It feels like just yesterday Nebula and I were roaming these halls and leaving as soon as the bell rang because we couldn't stand to be here. And now I work here. Ew." Stacy laughed, as she chanced a taste of the mystery slob. "Nebula's my girlfriend, by the way," she clarified to George.

Jon squinted slightly. "Um, Stacy, should you…" 

Stacy cocked her head to the side. "Huh?"

"By girlfriend, surely you mean one of your girl friends, right?"

Stacy's eyes widened in realization, and she laughed. "Oh, George already knows," she said. "I mean, don't you remember-" oh. That whole situation happened right before the accident, it made sense that Jon wouldn't know.

"Stacy was outed to me by a nosy, bigoted teacher," George explained. "He didn't last long here after that."

"That was why Shawn got suspended for slashing that teacher's tires."

"Oh… yeah, I know that happened when I was out." Jonathan shook his head, letting out a short sigh. "Well, it can't be helped," he said. "Anyway, I do have someone who might be able to fill the position of media arts teacher, if you would like me to have him talk to the secretary about scheduling an interview."

"Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you, Jonathan."

×××

Shawn wasn't used to going to a movie with a girl and actually being able to watch the movie. 

Angela looked beautiful. Shawn saw as her face was illuminated by the movie screen, mesmerized by the movie, while Shawn was mesmerized by her. 

"Angela?" Shawn said, and she turned her head towards him.

"Shawn?"

"I think we should…" he started, before trailing off. What was he doing? He could not ask to get back together with her. That was totally out of the question. 

"We should…?" Angela prompted.

"Get some more popcorn," Shawn said. 

Angela looked down at the popcorn bucket. "No, we have plenty."

"Right. My bad." 

"Oh, get me some more popcorn while you're up," Cory whispered.

"I'm not up."

"Oh."

"I'll get you some popcorn," Topanga said. "Shawn, come with me."

Shawn asked Angela to save his seat and followed Topanga into the lobby. Topanga had the cinema attendant refill the popcorn, and before they could head back to the theater, she stopped Shawn.

"Hey, listen," she said. "I know as well as anyone that it's hard to be friends with your ex-"

"She's not my ex."

"But you're clearly awkward around her. If you don't feel comfortable with us all hanging out as a group…"

Shawn shook his head. "No, it's fine. Angela and I are already friends. Now we're just a group. And even if I was uncomfortable, my feelings for her shouldn't affect you guys being friends with her."

"Your feelings for her?"

"I mean-"

"So you do still have feelings for her?"

"Oh, obviously I do. You know it. Cory knows it. Hell, Angela probably knows it."

Topanga sighed, before eating a piece of popcorn. "You have to let it go, though. You two went out once, like, a year ago," she said.

"I know, I know. It's just a dumb crush, okay? I'm getting back into dating, it's fine."

Topanga nodded. "Right, okay." She put her arm around his shoulder and they walked back to the theater.

Chapter Text

It started out with a bag.

A brown purse discarded on a table in the cafeteria one morning before class. 

"Hey, Shawn, come check this out," Cory said. "Someone lost their purse."

"Is there an ID in there?" Shawn asked.

"I'm not gonna go through a girl's purse, Shawn," Cory said.

Shawn shrugged and sat down, opening the purse. "Let's see… I don't see an ID, but there's a CD in here. Vivaldi's four seasons."

"Classical music. Pretentious?" 

Shawn shook his head, taking out the next item. "A book on Shakespearean sonnets."

"Oh, yeah, definitely pretentious," Cory said and Shawn rolled his eyes.

Shawn opened the book, and he smiled. "She's probably just some hopeless romantic type. Look at the bookmark."

"A ticket stub for that van Damme movie you like."

He was really liking this mystery girl. She had some very choice interests. "I remember seeing that one. Hey, maybe we were even in the same theater. And here's some lip gloss."

Cory opened the lipgloss and smelled it. "Kiwi mango."

"Ah, that reminds me of…" Shawn decided not to finish his sentence. He promised he'd get over Angela, so he was going to get over her. He took out the last item. "Sno-caps. The superior movie theater candy." 

"Okay, a pretty interesting girl, huh?"

"Yeah." 

She was more than interesting, in Shawn's opinion. He was positively captivated by her.

×××

The store was slower than usual. 

Jack and Eric were sat at the picnic table studying again, and Eddie was given some busy work dusting off every surface in the store with a dry cloth. 

"So, Eddie-" Alan Matthews leaned against the counter, looking over at the two college students. "You spend a lot of time with my son and Jack, right?"

"Only as much as I'm forced to," Eddie said, before clarifying, "I'm joking, I promise.  I guess I spend a decent amount of time with them, in a third-wheely sorta way. You know how they are."

"I don't entirely," Alan said. "But I figured you could help me figure out what the hell their deal is."

Eddie stood up a little straighter, suddenly feeling sorta protective over his brother. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that they seem a little… close, if you get what I mean."

"Close?" Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"Are they, you know… batting for the other team? Together?"

"I may not be a baseball expert, but I'm pretty sure only one person bats at a time," Eddie deadpanned. "But if you're asking if they're dating, then not that I know of. Though if I did, it wouldn't be for me to say." 

Alan nodded slowly. "Right. I just hope they understand that if they are like that, they shouldn't feel scared to talk to me." He sighed. "I know I haven't always sounded the most accepting."

"Eric totally looks up to you, he thinks you're the best father to walk the earth."

"Really?" Alan seemed genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah, I'd say so," Eddie said. "He's always really glad you pushed him to go to college even though you didn't."

"Well, how about you? College, I mean. Are you thinking of going?"

Eddie shook his head, continuing to dust the counter. "Nah, I haven't even graduated highschool. I dropped out at fifteen."

"But are you going to fix that at some point? You don't want to be working here your whole life, do you?"

"Can't I?" Eddie fidgeted with one of the safety pins on his vest. "I like working here. I don't like school. End of story, so glad we had this talk." He walked to the far side of the store to dust off some of the shelves. 

×××

Shawn had his eyes closed as he listened to the CD he had put in his discman. How had he never listened to classical music before, like actually listened. It was beautiful. When he listened to the violins, it was like he could see winter changing into spring right before his eyes. Flowers blooming, animals waking up from hibernation, butterflies emerging from their cocoons. 

And it was then that it hit him.

He was in love again. 

He had no idea who it was, and was fine with never knowing. 

But he was in love with the owner of the purse.

It had been a week since he had found the purse in the cafeteria. He had read through the entire book of sonnets and was literally only listening to that one CD on repeat.

He told his friends about his realization when he met them at Chubbie's later that day.

"Everyone-" he said to Cory and Topanga, who had to be tired of his shit at that point, "I have news. I'm finally going to get over Angela. I'm in love again."

Cory gave his friend a side hug as he slid onto the booth next to him. "Alright, Shawnie! Who's the girl?" he asked.

"Purse girl."

Topanga glanced at Cory. "Shawn, I don't think this is healthy."

Shawn knew nothing was going to come of it. The girl wasn't real. She was an invention of Shawn's mind based on a few things in a purse.

"It's fine. I'm never going to meet her anyway. I'm just trying to get over someone else I'll never be with."

"Why not?" Cory asked. 

Shawn rolled his eyes. "She's not real."

"But she can be. Put out an ad that you found a purse and you're looking for its owner. Then you'll already have a conversation starter."

"No. No, I'm not doing that," Shawn insisted.

"Why not?" Cory asked.

Shawn looked down at the purse. "It's like… whenever I imagine this dream girl, my fantasy still always ends with her leaving, or me leaving her. Like even when I finally get what I want, nothing gold can stay, ya know?"

"Shawn… you should go for it."

Shawn looked from Cory to Topanga and then down at his hands. "You guys really think this is a good idea?"

"It can't hurt, I guess," Topanga said. 

"You'll meet her and she'll find out you like all the same things as her and she'll be stupid to not go out with you."

Shawn was liking this idea. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

×××

Jack was feeling totally sick. He was coming down with something, for sure. 

The something was obviously Feelings For Eric Matthews. And Jack wanted to just get rid of it with medicine like anything else. Wished he could sweat it out like a fever, throw it up and get it over with.

Jack was spending time with his sister and he still could get the thought of his roommate out of his head. 

Stacy was turning on the VHS she had rented at the video store, cringing when she saw that the previous renter had neglected to rewind it. She hit the rewind button when Jack spoke up.

"Stacy… how'd you know you were gay?" he asked.

Stacy didn't seem phased by the question. "I went to the convenience store to buy a scratch off ticket and when I scratched it off it said lesbian. A week later they mailed me my homosexuality mandated carabiner."

Jack sat down on the couch, laughing half-heartedly. Stacy seemed to get that something was up.

"Hey, you okay?"

"How'd you really know?"

"I don't know… I never liked guys like that. And one day I realized that what I felt for my best friend was romantic. I was lucky, extremely lucky, that she was also gay. Why do you wanna know?"

Jack fidgeted with the buttons of his flannel, unbuttoning and rebuttoning the same one over and over. He needed to tell someone, and if anyone was gonna understand, it would be his sister. "I think I'm gay," he said, choking down a sob. 

Stacy sat down on the couch next to him and let him cry into her shoulder. 

One thing Jack had to admit, he really liked having an older sibling, especially one who understood his current situation.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Stacy asked, after Jack's crying had reduced to an occasional sniffle.

"Not much to talk about. I'm in love with my best friend. He's girl crazy."

"Eric?" 

Jack nodded. 

Stacy laughed. "Dude, Eric's so in love with you."

"No he's not."

"Sure, whatever," she said.

"Thanks, Stace. It felt good to finally tell someone."

"No one else knows?"

"Eddie has his suspicions, but I don't think anyone else has caught on yet."

"I'm sure."

Chapter Text

Jack was not going to go into the whole thing with the department store Santa job. It was a lot. But all anyone needed to know was that now Eric had become the big brother to a little eight year old boy named Tommy earlier in December. He technically got volunteer hours for it, one of those big brother/big sister programs, but he didn't care. Eric loved Tommy like a little brother- no, like a son. 

Jack couldn't help but think Eric would be a great dad. Eric was reminiscent of Alan, Jack decided. Eddie said he could see it too, and he knew Alan better than Jack did. 

Jack walked out of his room one afternoon, desperate for a break from studying, to see Eric in the kitchen, the counter covered in flour, as Tommy sat on the island mixing batter in a big mixing bowl. 

"I hope you two plan on cleaning up," Jack said lightheartedly.

Eric groaned. "I'm struggling, man."

"He dropped the flour bag twice!" Tommy said. 

"It was once. The other time I just knocked it over and it was the tiniest spill," Eric defended.

"We're making Christmas cookies," Tommy said.

"It's December seventh, if you make them now, they'll be gone by Christmas," Jack pointed out.

"We'll make more, then," Eric said.

"Do you want to help us, Jackie?" Tommy asked. 

"It's just Jack," Jack said. "And I guess I could help."

"But Eric always calls you Jackie."

Eric looked back down at the cookbook he had propped against the stovetop. "Let's finish the cookies, Tommy."

Tommy continued to mix the contents of the bowl. "My arm is tired," he complained.

Eric chuckled. "Alright, buddy, let me finish that."

"We can clean up while Eric finishes mixing," Jack said, before grabbing a broom and starting to sweep the flour off the tile. 

"Let me do it, I can do it," Tommy insisted, taking the broom from Jack, even though it was taller than him. 

Jack heard Eric sigh, and he looked over at his friend, who wore a thoughtful look on his face. Jack nudged him with his elbow. "You okay, man?"

"He's a good kid. He deserves better than the cards life dealt him," Eric said. "He deserves better…"

Jack put his arm around Eric, leaning his head on the other's shoulder. "You really care about that kid."

"I just want everyone to be happy, I guess. I can't make that happen. But if I can do that for just one person, I'm going to."

God, Jack loved him. 

×××

Shawn left Chubbie's without a single look back, feeling a little sick to his stomach. This was so totally and completely typical. He put his heart on the line and got let down.

Purse girl had a boyfriend. 

The next day at school, Shawn walked up to his friends, hands clenched at his sides. 

"Cory Matthews, I'm never listening to you about love ever again," he said, feeling that maybe his anger was displaced, but he didn't care.

"What happened?" Topanga asked.

"I met up with purse girl. She has a boyfriend." Shawn looked back over at Cory. "Next time I'm feeling particularly heartbroken, just mind your business, okay?"

"Maybe I'm returning the favor," Cory bit back.

Topanga looked at each of the boys. "Guys, let's stay civil."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I was always getting shitty love advice from you. Wendy, Linda, Topanga."

Shawn noticed Topanga's face redden, and she looked down at her shoes. "Come on, guys…"

"And now I'm single, and concerned with getting you to stop moping."

Shawn punched Cory.

Topanga stood up quickly, pushing him backwards. "Hey! That was uncalled for." She placed herself between the boys so neither of them would try to take a hit. 

Shawn stared at his own hand, like it had personally offended him. "I'm leaving."

"We have class, Shawn," Topanga said.

"I don't care."

×××

When Stacy walked into the studio, the receptionist asked what brought her there, and she said she was just visiting her brother, asking if Shawn had been in. The receptionist nodded, and let her in. She was still in her teaching clothes (a long sleeved sage button up with the sleeves rolled up, her nicest jeans, a green and red pinstripe vest, and her corduroy jacket) and felt a little out of place from the vibe of everything.

Walking into the room with all the cameras and stuff, it reminded her of her art room, a cluttered chaos that only the artist understands. A man was walking from camera to camera, adjusting bits here and there. Stacy cleared her throat and the man turned around.

"Hello, hello," he greeted. "What brings you-" he cocked his head to the side. "You're Stacy, aren't you?"

Stacy furrowed her brow. "How'd you-"

"Please, look at you. You look just like your brother."

Stacy just laughed nervously. "Yeah, I guess. Is he here?"

"He's in the dark room down the hall. Knock first, he'll let you in so the light doesn't expose the pictures."

"Thanks." Stacy went where she was told and knocked on the door. 

The door opened and Stacy saw that the room was blocked off with a curtain. 

"Oh, hey, Stace. Come in." Shawn closed the door and then moved the curtain out of the way.

Photography was a lot more complicated than Stacy ever thought. Shawn went back to working, and frankly Stacy had no idea what he was doing, but occasionally he'd take some paper out of a tray of water or something, and hang it up on a line. 

"Shawn, some of the teachers said you skipped class today," Stacy said finally.

"Sorry."

Stacy waited for the inevitable Shawn excuse, but her brother just kept working. 

"Shawn."

Shawn stopped and turned around. He leaned against the table, and then moved away from it. "What?" he bit. "You're not my mom. Not that you know who that is."

"What? No, we are not doing this, Shawn. We are focusing on the matter at hand," she said. "You only have a week left before midterms, you cannot be skipping class."

"Did you hear I punched Cory today?" The way he said it made it seem like this was all a part of an underlying issue.

"No. Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know. I was angry at him and just completely lost control or something." He turned back to his work. "It's scary. Like I'm not in control of my own actions. And I wonder if he was." The "he" in the sentence was obviously Chet. "I needed to calm down."

"So you came here?" 

"This calms me, the repetitiveness of it."

"But you can't run here every time you need to calm down. You need to pass midterms."

"I hit the most important person in my life. Because of a dumb comment that didn't even sting that much. Stace, I'm scared of becoming our father, and I think everytime I do something like that, I'm getting closer to that. And I don't know what to do."

Stacy hated seeing Shawn like this, the same scared kid she left seven years ago. "Did you know I punched Eddie last year?"

"What?"

Stacy laughed shortly. "Yup. He came with Jack to pick me up from work, they wanted us to go to the hospital together after Jon woke up. And I was so angry about just… everything that I started saying some shit to him that I didn't mean. Or maybe I did mean it, and just didn't want to. But he bit back and I punched him. Right in the art classroom."

Shawn looked lost in thought. "What do you mean? You meant the shit you were saying to him, but you didn't want to?"

"Like… I said that I hated him for abandoning us and that we were perfectly fine without him. And I was angry, ya know? I did hate him, but I didn't want to."

"I should talk to Cory… I shouldn't have punched him. But it's hurtful, ya know?" Shawn said. "Knowing that sometimes he only sees me as something broken to fix. Like I'm a project and not a person."

"Maybe you just need to tell him how that makes you feel," Stacy said.

"Yeah… Shit, I hope I'm not in too much trouble with Jon."

"Well, you probably will be."

Shawn looked down at the paper he just picked up. "He'll ground me for fuckin forever."

"Don't be dramatic," Stacy said. 

"Fuck," Shawn said.

"What?"

"Shit?"

"What are you doing exactly?"

"This is the part where you scold me for cursing," Shawn said. 

"I mean… you're an adult now, kid. You can say whatever you want within reason."

Shawn seemed to consider that. "I don't like that," he said. "Let me have one more year."

"Of me scolding you for your language?"

"Yeah. I don't want to be an adult yet."

"Me neither, kid."

"It's fucking terrifying."

"Language."

×××

Shawn glared at his friend as soon as he saw that he was standing on the other side of the apartment door. But he still stepped back and let Cory enter. 

Cory closed the door behind him. "It's Angela."

Shawn sat on the back of the couch, crossing his arms. "What about her?"

"Everything in the purse was hers. She was just borrowing the bag from her friend."

Shawn looked down at the ground. "You're serious?"

"I'm serious."

"Then how am I supposed to get over her?"

"I don't know," Cory said. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'm not really over Topanga."

"Really?" That was news. Cory seemed to be totally fine that he and Topanga broke up. 

"Yeah… it's not a big deal, though. It's just superficial or something."

"And mine isn't?"

Cory seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Your dating issues have nothing to do with dating. Or, at least not mostly. It's more about you and what you're convinced you don't deserve."

Shawn hummed to himself. "You've been talking to Topanga."

"I guess so."

Shawn didn't deserve Angela. But he wanted to try again. Just once.

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you earlier. It was uncalled for."

"It's okay," Cory said. 

"It's not. You're my best friend, you just want what's best for me." 

"I was being unfair, though."

"It's okay. Just… remember I don't need to be fixed, okay? I'm not a pet project, I'm your best friend, and an adult who can make my own decisions." Shawn hugged him briefly. "But thanks. For trying to help."

Chapter Text

Shawn had already accepted that he was down bad. That was old news. And as he sat on his bed, writing onto a cassette tape with a sharpie, he realized… oh.

He was not getting over her anytime soon.

The last day before winter break came and went, and Shawn could feel the cassette burning hole into his pocket as he waited by his locker. 

"Hey, Shawn," it was Angela, just walking past. "Happy holidays."

"Hey, Angela, before you leave-" Shawn reached into his pocket and pulled out the cassette. "I made this for you."

Angela leaned against the lockers, taking the tape. "Aw, thanks, Shawn. I'll listen to it on the way home."

"It's got some Counting Crows, The Smiths, Sixpence None The Richer, The Cure… just a whole bunch of good stuff."

Angela spotted Topanga. "Hey, Panga, check this out."

"Oh, you don't need to show her-" Shawn started, before Topanga took the cassette and looked at the song list he had written on the back. "Right, of course, why wouldn't you?"

"We're best friends, Shawn, just like you and Cory," Angela said. "Don't tell me you wouldn't immediately show him if someone made you a mixtape."

"Interesting lineup," Topanga said. "Anyway, I'll meet you at Chubbie's later, okay?" 

Angela waved and walked off, cassette in pocket. "Yeah, I'll see you."

Cory, who had been watching from outside his own locker, walked over and swatted Shawn's head. "You made her a mixtape?" he asked incredulously.

"What's the big deal? I make you guys mixtapes all the time."

Topanga shook her head. "There's a difference between compiling your favorite The Cure songs to share with your friends and making the girl you're in love with listen to Friday I'm in Love."

"It was Lovesong actually."

Topanga's eye twitched. "I think I need to lie down."

Cory put his arm around Shawn's shoulder. "Shawnie, if I had acted the way you're acting back when I had a crush on Topanga, I think you would've killed me with your bare hands."

"Probably. But I'm a different person now. I'm not as broken as I used to be, I just can't get other people to see that." He nudged his friend. "Including you."

"Shawn," Topanga said. "If you're going to keep doing this, just ask her out."

Shawn shook his head. "No," he said. "I… I'm going home."

"Shawn-" Cory started and Shawn turned around.

"What?"

Cory sighed. "Remember, we're doing my place for Christmas Eve."

"As if I would forget."

"Everyone's invited," Cory said. "Your family, my family, Panga, Feeny-"

"Will you have enough room?"

"Oh, we'll manage. You know my parents love hosting."

Shawn smiled and nodded. He couldn't help but imagine that when he got to be an adult with a house and a family, he'd also like having guests over for holidays. Making meals with his wife, telling stories to his children and their friends, then sitting down in the evening and catching up with his dad.

If thirteen year old him could see that that was his fantasy future, he'd probably punch him in the face. 

×××

The Matthews were hosting everyone for Christmas Eve. 

Stacy was trying to pick out a good outfit, eventually deciding on baggy black jeans and short sleeved army green shirt over a black turtleneck, with a mildly tacky knitted sweater vest with a poinsettia pattern over top of it all. Then she looked in the mirror and realized how much her teaching wardrobe has bled into her daily life. She considered taking the vest off, but didn't. 

Nebula walked into their room, fresh out of the shower, her hair wrapped up in a towel. She went to the closet to look for her own outfit. 

This was the first Stacy had seen her girlfriend since she got up that morning. Stacy turned away from the mirror to look over, taking in the sight. 

There was no doubt about it in that moment. Stacy loved Nebula. 

"I wish we didn't have places to be today," Stacy said, and Nebula rolled her eyes playfully as she took her dress off the hanger. 

"Oh, we'll have plenty of time for whatever you're planning on that head of yours tonight."

"Surely we have time now."

"As if. You're already dressed and I still need to do my hair. Not everyone has hair they can just dry and move on with."

Stacy went to their vanity to pick out her jewelry for the day while Nebula got dressed. Nebula's outfit was a lot prettier, with a light pink and white dyed dress, and a dark pink sweater over top. 

Stacy looked in the mirror and buttoned her vest. Then she unbuttoned it. Yeah, that looked better.

Nebula grabbed her ring off the vanity table and a necklace. It had been one year since she had been given that ring, a promise that the two of them would be together forever. Stacy was starting to wonder if maybe she should've waited to give it to her…

After her hair was done and clipped back with some barrettes, Nebula put on some jingle bell earrings, and she apparently decided she was ready.

"Is your sister ready to go yet?" Stacy asked, peeking into the living room to see Topanga sitting on the couch eating a waffle.

"She's going to soon, she's riding over with Shawn and Jonathan."

"Alright. Shall we be off?" 

×××

Jack was driving Eddie over to the Matthews house, just the two of them, since Eric was going to pick up Tommy. 

The brothers weren't saying anything to each other for half the drive over. Jack kept his eyes on the road, and Eddie just kept staring out the window. Things had been a bit awkward between them lately. 

Jack drove over a pothole, and the car shook slightly. That seemed to break the tension, Eddie thought. He looked over at Jack. "I'm sorry."

Jack kept his eyes on the road. "What?"

"I'm sorry for giving you shit about you and Eric lately. I really didn't mean anything by it. I was just… you know how Alan makes jokes about Cory and Shawn, it's the same thing. I don't think you're actually-"

"I'm in love with him." 

Eddie inhaled sharply. "Right," he said. He had figured.

"And you knew it. You were just saying sorry to make me feel better, you know that you were right."

"I'm not saying anything," Eddie said.

Jack didn't look away from the road. "I don't want to be in love with him."

"Because he's your best friend? Or because he's a man?"

"The second one."

Eddie looked back out the window. "I wish I had advice for you, man."

"I don't want advice. I just want acceptance while I figure things out on my own." Jack pulled into the Matthews' driveway. He still didn't look at his brother. "My other family would never accept me for this. Promise me you all will be different."

"Of course we'll accept you, Jack. I mean, we all love and accept Stacy, why would it be different for you?"

"Because I'm still new to the family."

"Nah. You've earned your Hunter name by now. And it's not going away, especially not for a dumb reason like… being gay? Come on, man, do you really think so little of us?"

"I guess I didn't think of it like that."

Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt. "Figured you didn't. Now, let's get inside, I'm freezing."

×××

The Matthews house was always nice, clean and pretty, and it was gorgeous during Christmas time.

Eddie clearly took less time to feel comfortable here than last Christmas, because he immediately saw Alan Matthews and started talking about the store or whatever, Jack wasn't sure. 

The girls had already been there for an hour, apparently, and Shawn, Jonathan, and Topanga got there soon after. 

Jack got settled on the couch, half watching the Christmas movie that was playing on the TV, half listening to the conversation his siblings and Alan were having. 

Amy and Jonathan came out of the kitchen, Amy carrying some wine bottles, and Jonathan had a tray of stemless glasses, which were all set on the coffee table. Amy started pouring drinks.

"Stacy, Jack, would either of you like a drink?" Amy asked.

At the same time, Stacy said, "No thank you," and Jack said, "Sure, I'll have some." 

Jack looked over at Stacy, who was talking with Eddie again.

"Actually, I think I'll pass," he said.

"I'm driving tonight," Eddie said. "Knock yourself out."

Stacy laughed. "Not literally, though."

"Are you sure, Stace?"

Stacy cocked her head to the side. "You're an adult? You can do what you want."

"I'm an adult!" Shawn said.

"Who has very recently had to be forced to stop day drinking at school," Jon reminded him.

Shawn scrunched up his nose. "Shit, my bad."

"Language," Stacy said. 

"He's an adult," Eddie said.

"Nah."

Jack unbuttoned and rebuttoned the bottom button of his shirt. "I just figured… because of our family history that you wouldn't…"

Stacy raised an eyebrow. "It's fine, Jack. Only reason I'm not having any is because I'm driving home tonight."

"You drink?"

"Yeah. It did take me a while to feel comfortable with the idea, because of our family history. But there's nothing wrong with forming a healthy relationship with alcohol so you don't overdo it and, say, day drink at school."

"Or beat your wife and children," Eddie added.

Jonathan coughed. "Fun party," he said, pouring himself a glass of wine. 

"They're your kids," Alan said, and Jonathan just took a sip from his glass. Jack swore he saw him hiding a smile. 

Eric arrived soon after that, Tommy trailing behind him like a little duckling. 

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Eric walked over to the mingling families. He gave everyone a quick hug, and if Jack noticed his was a little longer and also the first one, he didn't look too far into it.

"It's Christmas Eve, Eric!" Tommy said.

"Merry Christmas Eve, then."

×××

All in all, it was turning out to be a great Christmas Eve for Shawn. That was, of course, until he heard the words:

"Angela! I'm so glad you decided to come."

Shawn's eyes widened when he heard Topanga's voice. He walked into the living room to see Angela hanging up her coat.

"Yeah, me too. My aunt was glad I had somewhere to go so she could spend Christmas Eve with her new boyfriend," Angela laughed. "Where are the Matthews? I still need to thank them for letting me spend Christmas with you all."

"Angela! What a crazy coincidence," Shawn said.

"Not really. You were invited, I was invited."

"Right, of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go strangle Cory, I think."

Angela shot Topanga a questioning look, and Topanga just rolled her eyes.

Shawn went into the kitchen, spotting Cory talking to Jack by the backdoor. 

"Cory Matthews, you piece of shit-"

"Woah, hey, language," Jack said, before cringing at his own words. "I've been talking to Stacy too much."

"What's wrong?" Cory asked.

"Why didn't you tell me Angela was coming?"

"Oh, I was going to, but you cut me off in the middle of listing everyone we invited."

Shawn took a deep breath. "Okay. It's okay. It's fine, she's just our friend, spending Christmas Eve with us."

Jack looked between the two boys. "What's going on?"

"He's hopelessly in love with Angela," Cory explained.

"That girl you hang out with all the time?" Jack asked.

"And she's here," Shawn said, pushing his hair out of his face. "After I made her a mixtape of love songs a few days ago!"

"I knew that was your intention!" Cory pointed his finger at Shawn, and Shawn pushed his hand away. 

"It's fine. Everything's fine. Today is like any other day with her."

"Where you are awful at hiding that you're still not over her?" Cory asked.

Shawn sighed. "Whatever."

Walking into the living room, the Christmas tree was decorated and beautiful, and everyone gathered around as the final ornaments were placed on. Alan lifted Morgan up to put the star on. 

"Alright, everyone, let's get the lights off and see this baby sparkle," Alan said.

Shawn walked up the stairs a bit, standing against the railing, where he always stood to look at the tree. Angela followed and stood next to him. Jeez…

Eric turned the light off. 

Oh.

Shawn could write a million poems, and none would compare to the sight in front of him. A million sparking lights in red and green and white and blue, and the ornaments were reflecting the lights. 

"Shawn?" Shawn looked at Angela, and she looked like she was about to say something, before her eyes glanced upward. "Don't look now. Mistletoe."

Shawn looked up, and before he could even look back to her-

Angela was kissing him. 

And not just a peck on the lips either. Actually, full on, kissing him.

And to Shawn's surprise, he was the one that pulled back. And then he didn't acknowledge that the kiss even happened. He didn't know if anyone else had seen, and he didn't want to know. 

"Shawn."

Shawn closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then he looked over at her. "Angela?"

"I…" she looked back at the Christmas tree. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together. Maybe there will be more holidays in the future."

"Yeah, maybe." 

"Shawn, do you-"

Angela was cut off when Feeny announced he'd start the annual reading of A Christmas Carol.

Shawn sat down at the bottom of the stairs. "Get comfortable," he said. "This takes a few hours."

"Yeah…" She sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

This couldn't mean anything.

Chapter Text

Angela was… confused. 

Maybe not exactly the word she was looking for, but still.

She was about to go home on the last day before winter break. Cory had invited her to spend Christmas Eve with his family, and she was happy to accept. 

Walking down the hall, she passed by Shawn at his locker, and she waved to him. "Hey, Shawn. Happy holidays," she said.

Now, her relationship with Shawn was… odd. 

They had gone out once, but half the girls in their grade warned her about him. That he was a player, got with girls for a week or two before getting bored and moving on. Angela didn't want that. So she wasn't going to put any more emotional energy into their relationship, and called it off there. 

Shawn seemed like he understood enough, and he was willing to stay friends. 

But since then… she was wondering if she made the right decision. Shawn hadn't gone out with a single girl since breaking up, not until very recently when he and Cory had a double date that didn't lead to anything, apparently. 

And Angela liked Shawn. She really did. 

But she decided she wouldn't make any moves unless he showed interest again. 

And that's when things got confusing.

"Hey, Angela, before you leave," Shawn said. He took a cassette tape out of his pocket. "I made this for you."

Now, Angela knew Shawn, she knew it was typical for him to make mix tapes for his friends. He was a very music oriented guy. 

This was the first one he'd made for her, and she felt very honored he finally saw her on the same friendship scale as his other friends (well, not Cory. But maybe Topanga.)

Angela looked at the tape as Shawn continued discussing the music he compiled for her. What an interesting list of songs… which could mean nothing. 

Topanga was walking past, and Angela stopped her. "Hey, Panga, check this out," she said, hoping Topanga could give a second opinion and make sure she wasn't just looking too much into things.

"Oh, you don't need to show her," Shawn said, frantically as Topanga took the tape. "Right, of course, why wouldn't you," he said, pushing up his glasses. She loved his glasses.

"Interesting lineup," Topanga said. "I'll see you at Chubbie's later, okay?" She gave Angela a look that meant, We'll be discussing this later.

When Angela got in her car to go home, she put the mixtape in, and listened as it started up. 

What the fuck did this mean? 

Kiss Me? Lovesong? Uptown Girl? Stay? Was this some kind of… music confession?

And Angela said that to Topanga at Chubbie's later.

"It's just so frustrating, you know? I have no idea how he feels about me, and I wish he could just… use words. What do you think?"

Topanga shrugged. "He's a guy. Who knows what his intentions were. Maybe he didn't even think of the songs' implications."

"Oh, please. Shawn is a poetic type, if there's anything he would know, it's a song's romantic meaning. I don't know what I should do."

Topanga seemed to consider it. "You're going to the Matthews for Christmas Eve, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss him."

"What?" That felt like a random jump for Topanga.

"Hear me out. The Matthews love hanging mistletoe all over their house, they're big romantic types, Mr. And Mrs. Matthews are. You catch Shawn while he's under some, and kiss him. And after you see his reaction, you can tell him how you feel, or play it off as Christmas tradition."

"Okay… that could work."

And then she got more confused.

Because she followed Shawn up the stairs to look at the Christmas tree, and the mistletoe was right there. And she kissed him. And he kissed back, at least she thought he was.

Then he pulled away, a look she couldn't place in his eyes. 

"Shawn…" Angela started.

She watched Shawn as he closed his eyes, sighing. "Angela?"

"I…" She looked back at the Christmas tree. It was such a weird question to ask, she couldn't decide how to do it. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together. Maybe there will be more holidays in the future?"

"Yeah, maybe," Shawn said, fidgeting with his hands.

Do you have feelings for me still?

Do you want to try this again?

Do you love me?

"Shawn, do you-"

She was cut off when Mr. Feeny announced he'd be reading a Christmas Carol. Jeez, an entire book?

Shawn sat down on the stairs. "Get comfortable," he said. "This always takes a while."

Angela sat next to him. She put her head on his shoulder. He didn't move away. 

Which could mean nothing.

Chapter Text

One thing about being a teacher that Stacy loved was the breaks. Winter break, summer break, Thanksgiving break, spring break… 

She didn't, however, like having to drag herself out of bed in the morning on the first day back from break. 

But she made it to school without deciding to just quit, so that was a start.

Stacy was wearing a new vest that Shawn had gotten her for Christmas. It was the worst vest she had ever seen in her life. And Shawn had gotten a tie for Jonathan that also matched. 

So, naturally, Stacy looked at the worst vest she had ever seen in her life, and decided to wear it to school. It looked like one of those bright windbreakers. Maybe she'd get paint or clay on it. 

Walking to her classroom, she was almost run into by a man looking down at a map of the school. 

"Hey, careful, man," Stacy said.

"My bad," the man said. "I'm looking for the journalism classroom. I'm the new teacher."

"Oh, you must be Eli!" Stacy held out her hand, and he shook it. "Jonathan's told me so much about you."

The man- Eli Williams, apparently, folded his printed map in half. "So you must be…" 

"I'm Stacy Hunter. I'm the art teacher here."

"You're one of those kids Jon always talks about," Eli said.

Stacy shrugged. "Well, I guess. I'm twenty-four."

"Right, the young, hip teacher." Eli pointed at her vest. "Is that what the kids are wearing these days?"

"No," Stacy laughed. "It's just a Christmas present from my brother. Jonathan has a matching tie."

"I hope he's wearing it today so I can give him shit about it."

"You'll have to beat me to it."

"I don't think you can make fun of him when you're wearing that."

"Okay, fair. I can show you where the journalism classroom is," Stacy offered.

"Right, thanks."

At lunch, Eli joined Stacy, Jonathan, and George. He was a welcome addition to the group. 

×××

It was later in the afternoon when Jack was wiping down the kitchen counters while Stacy sat on the couch, putting together her lesson plan. 

Eric came home. Tommy was once again trailing behind, a lost puppy of a boy in a very large flannel. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," Tommy said quietly.

Eric nodded his head towards the bathroom door, before sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

"Eric? Are you okay?" Jack asked. 

Eric's hands were shaking as he brought them down to his lap, and Jack sat next to him. He grabbed one of Eric's hands, and Eric's grip was tight, like he was just looking for something to hold onto.

"He wants me to adopt him," Eric said.

"Oh."

"And what are you going to do?" Stacy asked.

"I want to," Eric said. "More than anything in the world. I want to give this kid a permanent home. But I just don't have the money or a stable job or a big enough place and I just can't…"

"You just have to think about what's best for him, Eric," Jack said. "I think you know."

"I do. I just don't want to have to break it to the kid."

"Are you serious?" a small voice said behind them. Eric looked like he was going to cry before turning around.

"Hey, Tommy."

"I don't like you anymore." And he ran for the door.

Eric started to stand. "Tommy, wait!" 

Stacy got up. "I got this," she said, before leaving.

Eric fell back onto the couch, and Jack hugged him. 

"I finally found something I cared about," Eric said. "Truly cared about. That kid means so much to me. And I just let him down." He put his head on Jack's shoulder. "I just fucked it up like everything else."

×××

Stacy went outside the apartment, and ran to catch up with the kid. "Tommy, stop."

"You can't tell me what to do," Tommy said, stopping anyway.

"I just want to talk." Stacy sat down on the floor, gesturing to the ground next to her. Tommy sat, a look of skepticism still in his eyes. "You know, you remind me a lot of my brother, the youngest one."

"Shawn?"

"Yeah. I remember when I had to leave him."

"What do you mean?" Tommy asked.

"When I was almost eighteen, I left home. I left Shawn in a place he didn't want to be because I had to go and make a life for myself. I wanted so badly to take him with me, but I didn't have the space or the money," she said. "But I called him almost every week, and he'd call me. And one day I came to tell him I could take care of him, and he didn't want to leave anymore because he found a real great home with his adoptive dad. So I went back and we continued to call every few days and… anyway, I think he really hated me when I said I couldn't take him with me. But we both had to do what we had to do. Stay vigilant and keep on surviving."

Tommy nodded, fidgeting with the too-long sleeves of his flannel. "I wish I had an older sibling like you," he said.

"You do."

It seemed to dawn on him. "Eric."

"Yeah. He loves you a lot, kiddo. And he wants more than anything to adopt you. But it's just not in the cards right now. And what he wants even more is what's best for you."

Stacy watched as tears rolled down Tommy's face. Poor kid. 

"And I'm sure that whoever adopts you will be close enough you can still talk to Eric-"

"If Eric doesn't adopt me, I'm getting adopted by a family in California."

That was a long way away.

"So… you call him on the phone. When I left, I was all the way on the other side of the country too."

"But you got to come back," Tommy said. 

Stacy nodded. She understood the kid's point of view, understood why this was a lot. "Maybe you will too."

"Okay… let's go back."

Stacy walked Tommy back to the apartment, and he immediately ran over and gave Eric a hug. The sight was heartbreaking. 

They both deserved better.

×××

It was two weeks later when Tommy left for California. Jack was fairly certain they wouldn't have let Eric adopt him at all, but Eric still seemed to feel it was all on him.

But Jack sat there on the couch with Eric, who had cried so hard he threw up just a few minutes before, and was sitting with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Jack kept his arm around his friend, trying to comfort him. 

Eddie had to go out and buy tissues, and opened the box to put on the coffee table in front of Eric, before leaving him and Jack alone. He gave Jack a look that Jack wasn't sure of the meaning.

It was late, and Jack needed to go to sleep, he had class in the morning. Jack stood up and Eric grabbed his arm.

"Stay," he said, desperation lacing his voice. "Please, Jackie."

Jack sat back down. 

Chapter Text

If Emily Chance had to choose one word to describe her life it would be "privileged." If she could choose more words, it would be "totally not in control of anything." 

Her room felt like a metaphor for her life. The pastel pink walls, the frilly bedspread, the delicate decor. Everything in there was perfectly curated by her mother as the exact room she had wanted when she was younger. 

And hidden in the closet and under the bed were Emily's true things. Books on paleontology, and a box of Polaroids with her brother, and VHS tapes of both Jurassic Park movies that were gifts from said brother. 

She did have one thing out in the open she liked, which was the Pleasant Company doll that her mother bought for her when she was eight. The doll's name was Samantha, and Emily liked her because in the book that came with her, Samantha was also forced into the life of a proper young lady and wasn't allowed to do things like climb trees. Now, Emily was fourteen and much too old to be playing with dolls, but she kept it sitting on her nightstand and occasionally changed its outfit and styled its hair. 

Emily, if you asked anyone else about her, was a talented ballet dancer, and went to one of those fancy schmancy ballet schools. Until very, very recently. As in five minutes prior, when she told her parents she was leaving the school and wanted to go to a normal public highschool because she didn't even like ballet that much anymore. The competitive nature of the ballet world completely robbed her of her joy for it.

And that's in short how Emily found herself on a bus to Philadelphia, with her suitcase full of clothes and a shoebox with her Polaroids and Jurassic Park movies.

×××

Eddie was watching TV, Eric sitting next to him as he worked on schoolwork. Eric had been slowly feeling better after the Tommy situation.

Everything was calm for once. And then Eddie cursed himself for thinking that because lo and behold, that did not last long.

Someone opened the door without knocking, which was practically routine with their family at this point, but the newcomer wasn't someone he recognized.

"Where's my brother?" A young teen girl with light brown hair and a floofy gingham dress stormed into the apartment, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her. 

Eddie shrugged. 

"Who are you?" Eric asked.

"I don't have time for formalities, yeah?"

"This is my house!"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Emily. Emily Chance. Now where is Jack?"

"Oh, he's studying in his room," Eddie said.

"You can't just walk into other people's houses."

"Okay, but this is my brother's place."

"Jack!" Eric called.

Jack walked into the living room, and his eyes widened when he saw Emily. "Emmie? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I hate Mom and Dad."

"You and me both, Emmie, but why are you here?"

"I quit the ballet academy. Mom got pissed off and Dad said I'm not welcome back in their house until I apologize. That woman takes living vicariously through her kids to a whole other level."

"Not welcome back until you apologize to her?" Eric apparently couldn't help but butt in. "Ironic, considering she still hasn't apologized to Jack for-" Eddie nudged him. "Sorry."

"Well, where are you staying?"

"Here, I hope."

"Here? Emily, you can't…" Jack took a deep breath. "We don't have the room here. Hell, your dad could accuse me of kidnapping."

"I told him where I was going and he said fine."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I don't have room."

"How long do you need to stay?" Eric asked.

"I don't know, I'll probably cave in and apologize in a week."

Eric nodded. "Alright. Jack, you can stay in my room for a bit and she can stay in your room."

Jack looked from his roommate to his sister, the latter giving him her best puppy eyed stare. "Fine."

Emily jumped up and hugged her brother. "You're the best, Jack!"

"Right… just go put your things in my room, I guess. Eddie?"

Eddie saluted before leading Emily down the hall.

×××

After Emily went down the hall, Jack picked up the phone and dialed the number to his parents house. 

"Hello?"

Jack sighed, preparing himself for the conversation. "Hey, Mom."

"Jack. How are you?" his mother sounded too peppy. What a bitch.

"I'm sure you know your daughter left to see me."

"Yes."

"Yeah, just thought I'd let you know she got here safely."

"I don't care."

"Okay." Jack hung up the phone. 

Oh, he was so pissed. 

His parents had been so unreasonable lately. He hated them for how they treated him, but this was even worse. Emily was only fourteen, and they're leaving her to fend for herself?

Bullshit.

Once night fell, Emily had dressed in her nightgown and was eating a snack before bed like she always did. She still seemed as energetic as always. It worried Jack, seeing her so unbothered. Like she was putting on a brave face, and was going to break any minute.

She went to bed. 

Jack sat on the couch. 

"Do you think I could get away with murder," Jack asked.

Eddie was sitting in front of the coffee table, painting onto some fabric for a new patch for his vest. "Probably not," he said. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'd want to kill them too."

Jack huffed, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I'm going to bed," he said. 

Eric was looking through the fridge. "Everything's all set up for you," he said. "I'll be there soon."

Jack nodded appreciatively and got up to go to Eric's room.

Eric's room was surprisingly clean, Jack noted. The bed was made, and Jack wondered if it was always like that or if Eric made it just because Jack was staying there.

Alright, this was fine. Jack was really looking too far into this. Sure he had a crush on the guy, but it was fine. Nothing would come of it.

The more Jack came to accept his feelings, the harder it was to deal with them. Frankly, he wished he could just go back to when he was completely unaware that what he felt towards his best friend was romantic. 

And it wasn't just romantic either. 

And that was the scariest part. 

Jack had seen first hand what happened to gay people. Not because of outside homophobia, but the disease killing off an entire community of people. In his own apartment building back in New York, a very nice, very young couple had died of AIDS, and that was fucking terrifying. 

Honestly, the worst part was when people came by the mens' apartment and started tossing their things. Jack, only thirteen at the time, stopped by and asked what was happening, and a particularly nasty guy spat out some slurs and didn't really explain the situation. Jack stole a shoebox of Polaroids, a collection of photos of just… innocent domesticity. It was the only thing that didn't get thrown away. He still had them to that day, feeling obligated to be the one person who remembered them, two men he didn't even know well. 

He didn't know if anyone would do the same for him.

And it felt weird to think like that at that point in his life, when his own older sister was gay and living her best (probably sexually active) life with her girlfriend of seven years. She was fine. So why was he convinced he wouldn't be?

Jack tried to get rid of his negative thoughts as he got ready for bed. He got under the covers, sighing into the comfortable pillow. Frankly, he was exhausted. 

He fell asleep, waking up only for a moment when Eric got into bed beside him. 

×××

Shawn was not expecting Topanga to pull him into an empty classroom before class started. Topanga wasn't the type. But she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the empty chemistry lab.

"You are my least favorite best friend," she started.

Shawn knew those words weren't serious. "I thought that was Cory because he meddles."

"Nope, it's you now because you drove me to meddle. I'm a meddler now!"

Shawn pushed his hair out of his face. "What are you talking about?"

Topanga took a deep breath. "Angela kissed you on Christmas Eve."

How in the world did she know that?

"How'd… what?"

"She kissed you, right?"

Shawn hesitated before saying, "Yes."

"And you pulled away. You didn't acknowledge it happened."

"Right."

"Shawn, this is what you wanted!" She stopped and squinted at him. "This is what you wanted, right?"

"It is. Was. I don't know."

"What?"

"It didn't mean anything. It was just mistletoe. And besides… we all know I'm not boyfriend material. I don't deserve what I want. And I think even if I get that, I won't be able to stay. I'll do what everyone in my family does and leave. We're leavers, Topanga. It's in my blood."

"I don't think that's true."

"Then maybe she'll leave me. It's leave or get left in my life, okay? I'm not allowed to be happy."

"You will be," Topanga said, right before the bell rang. "I'll see you later."

And she left him standing there.

The kiss didn't mean anything. He knew that. And even if it did…

It wouldn't.

Chapter Text

"Now this next poem I want to dissect is a very interesting one," Mr. Turner handed a pile of papers to each front row student, having them pass it back. "It was written by a young poet, roughly the same age as you all."

Shawn took a deep breath, listening. Not to the poem, he knew it by heart, but to the reactions of the students around him. 

Turner read the poem out loud. 

×

"It is possible to assassinate my heroes

with the scope of my individualism

However, by their own persistence to themselves

I believe that they have chosen me to pursue a self

What is literature

but the illumination of that which I would write?

Salinger speaks through me, to me

whispers, ‘Where to, little boy?’

My answer is the dogged pen to page

which lights consistently the pathway home

It is on that road

that I alone can trip my way back to myself."

×

"So, what message do you all think the poet is trying to convey in this piece?" 

Angela raised her hand, and Shawn felt his heart racing as Turner called on her to answer.

"I think the speaker is saying that he's lost, doesn't know where he is in life or even who he is, and that he's looking to literature to help him figure it out, before realizing he has to write his own words to know his identity." Angela glanced at Shawn, and then at her hands. "Or something like that."

"Wow," Shawn breathed. "That was-"

"Anyway, yeah, it's a good poem," Angela said.

"Excellent analysis," Turner said. "Anyone else have anything to say?" He looked right at Shawn, and Shawn decided that counting ceiling tiles was a good move. 

"Oh, what a bunch of baloney!" 

Well, that was not what Shawn was expecting. He looked back down at his best friend in the seat in front of him. He didn't feel too good.

Turner rubbed his temple, sighing. "Care to elaborate, Matthews?"

"It's meaningless, pretentious word vomit," Cory said. "I mean, who even read Catcher in the Rye anyway?"

"I did," Shawn said.

"Shut up, Cory, it's a beautiful poem," Angela said. 

"It's impressive that someone wrote it at our age," Topanga added. 

Cory shook his head. "What pretentious, depressed, eighteen year old snob wrote this garbage?"

"I did," Shawn said. He saw Cory tense up in front of him. 

Cory turned around. "What do you mean?"

"It's my poem. But go ahead, tell us more about how much you hate it. I could use some more unconstructive criticism, it keeps me humble."

"Shawn, you wrote that?" Angela asked. "I should've known. It was beautiful."

"Oh?" Why did he feel lightheaded?

"Shawn, you're doing that thing again," Cory whispered.

Oh yeah. Breathing.

The bell rang and the students rushed to leave class. Shawn grabbed his bag, shoving his printed copy of the poem in. 

"You know, Hunter, there's going to be a poetry competition in a week," Jon said. "You'd have to read it in front of people, but I think you'd have a good chance at winning."

Shawn put his hands in his pockets. "I'll consider it."

"Alright, just let me know by tomorrow, that's when the final submissions are."

Shawn nodded. "Okay."

He started to leave the classroom when Cory stopped him. "Shawn. Hey, I'm sorry, if I had known it was yours-"

"Nah, there was a reason I didn't want Jon to say it was my poem. I needed unbiased opinions. And whether you like it or not tells me nothing, because you know nothing about poetry, no offense."

"So we're good?"

"We're good."

×××

Jack was dying, that had to be true this time.

Yes, he had been known to be over dramatic in the past, but this was definitely, undeniably it for him. 

"Learn to knock, Jack!"

Jack slammed Eric's bedroom door shut, his heart pounding out of his chest.

Eric was with a guy. 

They were only kissing, but that was besides the point. 

Eric was… gay? Maybe? 

Jack rubbed his eyes, trying to get the image of it out of his head, Eric lying on his bed, another young man on top of- oh, Jack didn't feel very well.

He walked to the next room, knocking once before letting himself in.

"Hey, Jack," Eddie said.

"Eddie, what is that?"

Eddie was hanging up a poster that said "SEX ED" with sharpie on it, changing it to "SEX, ED?" 

"Someone fucked with this poster in the highschool hallway, so when the teacher took it down to throw it away, Shawn nabbed it for me."

"Hilarious."

"I think I'll make a tiny version for my vest." He taped the final bottom corner. "Are you okay, man?"

"I just… I walked in on Eric."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Again?"

"He was with a guy."

Eddie blinked. "Oh. Huh."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, just I didn't expect that." 

Jack leaned against the wall. "Should I talk to him?"

"I dunno."

"Thanks, you're so helpful." 

Jack decided he was absolutely not going to talk to him. Instead he went into the living room and stared at the blank TV and tried to calm his racing heart.

Emily was sitting cross legged on the counter, reading Jurassic Park for what must've been the millionth time– Jack couldn't recall if he had ever seen her with any other book.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, looking up from her book.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "I need to get the Hamlet script from my room, I've got to be off book by Friday."

"You're in Hamlet? Who do you play?"

"Horatio."

"Cool," Emily said, and Jack knew she didn't know who that was. 

"How are you feeling, by the way?" Jack asked. "About the whole-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Emmie said. Fair enough.

Jack went back into the hallway to go to his room, when Eric walked out of his room, telling whoever was in there that he'd be right back. 

Eric turned to face Jack and seemed to tense up, looking more to the side than actually at him. "Hey."

"Hey. New friend?" Jack asked. Ugh, why did he say that?

Eric rolled his eyes. "Listen, I know you're weird about this kind of stuff, so…"

"What, you making out with people casually? We've been over this, why should I care-"

"Gay people."

It was Jack's turn to tense up. "What?"

"I know you're a little homophobic, okay? Not so much you'd call me a slur or anything, but I know how uncomfortable you get when people bring it up and-"

"I'm not homophobic."

Eric shook his head. "Still, you're weird about it. And I don't like that about you."

Those words made Jack feel a little uneasy. He never wanted to make Eric feel unaccepted about anything. Eric was perfect in Jack's eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to not be. I mean, my sister's gay, and I'm not weird about her."

"Whatever, you just don't get it."

But Jack did get it. He understood perfectly. It was Eric who didn't. "I'm sorry, Eric."

Eric crossed his arms. "If I make you so uncomfortable that you don't want to live with me anymore, let me know so I have time to find a place."

"I'm not… Eric, you're my best friend. I don't care if you're gay-"

"Bisexual."

"I don't care if you're bisexual."

"Okay."

That night, Jack hesitated before getting into bed with Eric. He was not going to be weird about it, absolutely not.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"You're sure you're okay with me?"

Moonlight shone through the window and hit Eric's face in a way Jack could only describe as poetic. He could feel himself getting lost in his best friend's hazel eyes. "Of course," Jack said.

Of course.

"You're my best friend, man."

Best friend.

"Thanks."

Jack couldn't sleep for several hours. 

Eric liked guys.

Maybe… maybe he had a chance.

But probably not. 

×××

Shawn could not believe he had been convinced to do this. But when your best friend and your dad and your sister and your other best friend and the girl you like tell you to do something, sometimes it's hard to say no.

They had some English teacher from another school judging the competition, someone none of the students knew so there'd be no bias. Shawn sat in the front row of the auditorium with the other competitors. Cory sat right behind him. 

Shawn scanned the seats until he saw Jon and Stacy and Mr. Williams and Feeny.

And then he saw her. Farther back in one of the auditorium seats, talking to some other girls.

Angela.

"Oh no."

"What? Oh, it's Angela!" Cory waved at her, and she waved back.

"No, Cory, the poem I submitted, it… I wrote it about Angela."

"Well, she won't know, right?"

"Oh, she'll know. I know it."

"Maybe this is good! Maybe it'll show her that you really truly like her and she'll give you another chance."

"No, there's no way I'm doing that. I'll just do another poem."

"Do you have another one you want to use?"

"No… but I can figure one out."

"Next up, is Shawn Hunter."

Shawn wanted to drop dead right there. He went to the stage, and looked at his notebook. He closed it, putting it into his pocket. 

"This is called, um… A Series of Windows." He glanced at glanced at Cory, who gave him a thumbs up.

×

"You can see the story of my life through

A series of windows, open and shut

A screw up or two leading to an escape

Climbing through the open window

Of your closest ally and only friend

The one who will never turn you away

Watching someone open one and crawl out

Forcing their window of opportunity open

And shutting it before you can follow"

×

He cleared his throat when he decided he was done. "Thank you."

"That was different from the one you submitted," the judge said.

"Sorry."

"When did you write that one?"

Shawn stared at his boots. "Just now."

"Today?"

"Just now," he reiterated.

"You've really got a talent for words, Shawn."

"Yeah, well, I have to. I never shut up."

"However," the judge continued, "It wasn't what you submitted, so you will have to be disqualified."

"That's understandable."

"Keep up the good work, however. Enter more competitions, submit to literary collections, you could be published one day."

"Thank you, sir." 

Shawn got off stage and sat by his family, waving Cory over to join.

"Shawn, why'd you change the poem you submitted?" Jon asked. "That one was good, but the other was even better."

"Because it was about someone in the audience who I didn't want to hear it."

Stacy stifled a laugh. "Okay."

Shawn glared at her. "Whatever."

"Mr. Hunter, I'm curious… When did you start writing poetry?" Feeny asked.

"When Jon was in the hospital," Shawn said. "Stacy suggested I write out my feelings, but I wasn't very good, until I tried poems. Something about how there's less rules, and it's praised for being vulnerable, I don't know… I just really like it."

"It was very good. You really do have enormous potential."

Shawn hummed to himself. "Is that all it is? Potential?"

Feeny shook his head. "Apparently not. Because you're putting in the effort and putting your work out there. That's the hardest part, I've found. You should be very proud of yourself, I know I am."

Shawn smiled.

Feeny was proud of him.

Chapter Text

Living with Emily again was like a breath of fresh air, honestly. 

Jack's brothers pretty much both acted like they were sorry for existing. That even though they were tough guys, they didn't want to be an inconvenience or take up space. Like the fear of being kicked out was ingrained into their every move. They had both been better about it lately, however.

But Emily was never ashamed to take up space. 

She was privileged like that, Jack guessed. He couldn't say that she was never made to feel unwanted, she got kicked out of her home just the other day, after all.

Jack walked into the living room to see his sister standing next to the railing by the upper level of the living room, her leg stretched over like it was a ballet barre. She was reading a book (she was almost to the end of Jurassic Park), and after she turned the page, she turned around and stretched her other leg. 

"Hey, Emmie."

"Morning, Jack," Emily said, a bright smile painting her face. It still made Jack uneasy seeing how well she seemed to be coping with this. "Sleep well?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess." In truth, he had not only been sleeping better than he thought he would next to the guy he was tragically in love with, but better than he ever had. Which could mean nothing. Maybe it was the mattress. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Stretching. Gotta stay limber, ya know?"

"I thought you quit ballet."

"I quit the ballet academy. I want to take lessons in a less strict setting. I enjoy dance and all, I was just so tired of the B.S. we had to deal with at the academy."

"That makes sense, I guess."

It had been almost a week, and Emily was going to go back home soon. Jack also felt uneasy about that. 

×××

It was early morning, and the golden light was shining through all of the windows in the Matthews store. Eddie was stocking their latest shipment of clothes, and Alan was double checking the inventory on a few of the camping supplies. 

Eddie liked working before the store opened. No customers asking him dumb questions, just peace and quiet and also the ska music Alan tolerated him playing on the stereo system. 

"So, Eddie," Alan said, from where he was working, "have you given any thought to school yet?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "No. Leave it alone. I can't go to school, I need to keep this job."

"You know, you remind me a lot of myself," Alan said. "I was always making iffy decisions, slowly going down the wrong path every day. And you wanna know why I was the way I was?"

Eddie shrugged, prompting Alan to continue.

"Because of my parents. My mom wasn't a bad person, but she was more concerned about living a wild life, being more of a cool mom and less of a good mom. And my dad made it known whenever he didn't approve of something I did. He wasn't violent, not in the way I know your father was, but it still affected me. Constantly verbally berating me. I felt the need to lash out. And after I graduated highschool, I decided to join the navy. And my father was so angry, he didn't say a word to me for a month. But I had my best friend, Ricky, and his parents. They told me that whatever decision I made had to be for me, not for him."

"So you joined the navy?"

"I did. And it was the best decision I could've made for myself. And now I'm telling you that you have to make the best decision you can for yourself. Not for anyone else."

Eddie nodded. "I get what you say sometimes about school and stuff. Hey, I might get my GED one day. But it's not a priority for me." He looked around the room. "This is the first place I've felt I belonged. I really like it here, Mr. Matthews. And I want to work here for as long as you'll let me."

Alan seemed satisfied with that answer. "Good. I just really wanted to make sure you were doing this because you want to, not because you think it's your only option."

"It's not. I have another option, what I did for years. The life that Jack helped me get away from."

"You kids are lucky to have each other."

"We're adults. All of us now, actually."

Alan shook his head. "Not to someone like me or my wife," he said. "You're all just… kids. Even Stacy, who's, what, twenty four now? I still remember roughly ten years ago when she was sitting there in the hospital, scared out of her mind for her little brother. I see that scared teen girl in her sometimes still. Like she had to become an adult early, and hasn't grown since."

Eddie had no idea what he was referring to with the hospital and all, but he understood what he meant. 

The two went back to their work, and Eddie stopped for a moment, turning back towards his boss. "Thanks again, Mr. Matthews, for everything you've done for my siblings and for me."

"You can just call me Alan."

"I usually do."

×××

Jack had his arm around his little sister as they walked to the bus station, Shawn trailing behind with Emily's suitcase. Eric was twirling his car keys around his finger, leading them to the bus stop.

Emily's shoulders were stiff as she fidgeted with the ends of her hair. Jack was still super uneasy about the entire situation. He half (actually, completely) didn't want Emily to go back. He wanted her to be with people who loved her unconditionally. 

The bus arrived and the door opened, letting the few people out at that stop.

Emily looked down at her sneakers. "Wish me luck," she said.

Jack gave her a hug. "I love you, kid."

"Kid?" 

Jack realized he had never called her that before. That was what Stacy called Shawn, which he had picked up from her. "Uh… yeah. Sorry. Emmie."

Emily smiled. "I love you too. And I will no matter what." She very obviously glanced at Eric. 

Jack looked back at his roommate, then to his sister. "What?"

"Jack, I wasn't born yesterday."

"What do you mean?" He knew what she meant.

Emily smiled. "I should go now."

"Break a leg," Jack said. 

Emily curtsied, before getting on the bus. 

"Break a leg?" Shawn asked.

"Hey, we're both performers."

"Should've reminded her to stay vigilant. She'll need to," Shawn said, a serious look in his eyes.

"She knows." Or he hoped she did.

The three guys walked back to Eric's car, ready to drive back to the apartment building. Jack kept glancing behind him at the bus driving away. 

"Gonna be good to be back in your own bed, yeah?" Eric said to Jack.

Jack got into the passenger seat of the car. "Sure," he lied.

×××

Stacy and Nebula were both standing in their living room, easels set up, some movie or another playing as background noise.

Nebula was still dedicated to her painting hobby, and of course Stacy was an artist, currently preferring charcoal as a medium. They both kept glancing at eachother out of the corner of their eyes, trying to capture the other's likeness. 

Nebula had paint on the side of her face, and Stacy thought she was so unbelievably beautiful.

And that's when it hit her.

She was in love. Of course she knew, but after being scared and doubting her feelings, Stacy looked at her girlfriend and realized that it didn't matter that she didn't have any other previous lovers to compare it with, this was real, beautiful love. 

Stacy and Nebula were meant for eachother. It was a fact that Stacy truly believed. 

"I love you," Stacy said suddenly.

"I love you too," Nebula replied with no hesitation. 

They continued their projects in silence, Stacy trying her hardest to get the values of Nebula's curly hair accurate, when there was a knock on the door. 

Stacy brushed the charcoal on her hands onto her already black jeans and answered the door. 

"Mr. Matthews, nice to see you," Stacy said, letting Alan into the apartment.

"I've told you to call me Alan," he said.

"It takes me a while to get used to."

"I told you that a decade ago."

Stacy shrugged. 

"Anyway, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?" he asked.

"Sure, Alan," Stacy said, drawing out the man's name. Nope, still felt weird. 

"I want a new sign for the store," Alan said, "and I was wondering if you could design a little prototype for me."

"Yeah, I can do that. What's wrong with the current sign, though?"

"The name is too short, I think."

Chapter Text

Jack was totally and completely losing his mind. Maybe he was dying and in, like, purgatory or something. Maybe he fucked up in a previous life. 

Hmm… maybe Jack had a habit for dramatics. 

Eric was in Hamlet.

Specification: Eric was Hamlet.

Jack wished he could say it was a long story to avoid getting into it, like he often did, but it really wasn't. Eric was helping build sets, and five days before opening night, the first Hamlet fell off the stage and broke his leg, the next day the Hamlet understudy got bronchitis and then after that, the Hamlet understudy-understudy fell down some stairs. And Eric knew all the lines. He knew everyone's lines, even. If Jack got in a tragic accident, Eric could play Horatio, apparently. 

And so Eric was Hamlet and Jack was totally and completely losing his mind. 

Obviously Jack had a totally minor crush on Eric, that has been established.

But for the first time since the two men had met, Jack was jealous of Eric. 

Yes, jealous.

Jack had practiced, and rehearsed up until the audition, crossing his fingers the entire time before and after, begging the universe to let him be the lead. Hamlet was his dream role. But alas, he didn't get it. He didn't even get the understudy.

And that's not to say he didn't appreciate his role, Horatio was a large part. An important one, even. But he wanted Hamlet so bad, and Eric just… got it. He didn't even really need to prove how good he could act it, just that he had the lines memorized! Although… Eric was really good at acting it. 

And Jack was totally and completely losing his mind. 

Oh, hey, just like Hamlet.

Fuck.

×××

Stacy walked into the English classroom, before sitting on top of the front row desk, right in front of Jon's desk. 

Jonathan looked up at Stacy. "Good morning?"

"It certainly is," she said, folding her hands in her lap, kicking her feet like a giddy child. 

"Uh-huh." Jonathan stood up, going to the blackboard to write the lesson for the day, leaning on his cane with the other hand. "So, why are you here, exactly?"

"I'm going to propose to Nebula soon."

Jon dropped the chalk, turning around. "What?"

Stacy got off the desk, picking up the chalk. "I think I'm ready. I mean, we've been together for seven or so years, we've been living together for six. We're basically already married."

"I'm fairly certain it's not legal, though," Jonathan pointed out.

"I know that. But… I want to have a wedding. I want to see her walk down the aisle in a flowy white dress with flowers in her curls and I want to look her in the eyes and say I do. I want to have my brother be my best man and have him console me while I stress during the eleventh hour, and have him give the worst, most embarrassing best man speech. I want to be able to say things like, 'my wife and I love that restaurant' and 'oh, yeah, that's my wife's favorite song' or 'I'm taking my wife out to dinner tonight.' I don't care if it's not in paper. But I want it to be official to us." Stacy sighed, looking up at Jon. "Does that make sense?"

"It does," he said. Stacy believed him. "Do you know when you'll propose?"

"Soon. It won't be anything extravagant. Just… when the moment's right." She looked down at her shoes, hiding her smile. "She means everything to me."

"You think you're ready for marriage?" Jonathan asked. 

"Like I said, we're basically already married."

"Right. Just… I want to make sure you don't have any weird hangups over the idea because of your parents… sorry if I'm overstepping."

"Not at all. I'm ready to be someone's wife, I'm ready to be her wife." Then she wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, I actually don't like that. That was lame and sappy. Don't tell Shawn I said that, he'd make fun."

"Shawn writes poetry," Jon pointed out. Fair. "Speaking of, does your brother know yet?"

"No. After I propose and she inevitably says yes, I'll ask Shawn to be my best man."

"Hey, I'm proud of you, Stacy. You deserve this." Jon put his arm around her shoulder in a sort of half hug.

"Thanks, Dad. Jon. Whatever…"

×××

Shawn had gone to see Hamlet with Angela. 

And Cory and Topanga, so it totally wasn't a date, before anyone gets any ideas.

They sat towards the front row of the auditorium (Shawn had a bad feeling he'd need a new prescription soon, the actors were a little too fuzzy for comfort) with Cory sitting between Shawn and Angela, and Topanga sitting on Angela's other side.

After the final lines were spoken and the curtain closed, Shawn and his friends stood up to clap with the rest of the audience. It really was a very well put on production. Better than his time in Hamlet. 

Angela turned towards him and Cory as the actors were taking their bows.

"So are y'all's brothers like… what's going on between those two? Or am I just looking into it too much?"

"Huh?" Cory asked, but Shawn knew what she meant.

"You know, I'm not sure what their deal is," Shawn said. "I'm pretty sure Eddie thinks they're gay. He made jokes about it for a while, but hasn't in a few months. Maybe the joke got old."

"I bet they're secret lovers or something," Angela said.

"No, obviously they're in love but Jack's still getting over his internalized homophobia and Eric is convinced Jack's a full on homophobe, so neither of them have confessed yet," Topanga said. "Duh."

Shawn squinted at her. "Of course, my bad, how silly of me."

"I hope you're right, mostly because it would be hilarious if you can just read people that well," Angela said.

"Oh, read me!" Cory opened his eyes wide like he was trying to get Topanga to look through them into his brain or something.

She looked at him, then at Shawn. "I could say, but you wouldn't like it."

"Please?"

"You insist you still have feelings for me to hide the fact that you're probably gay," Topanga said.

"You're right, I hated that."

Angela laughed. "My turn?"

Topanga had a look on her face that seemed a little confused, but Shawn couldn't tell. She looked at Shawn again. "I don't… Ange, I already know your deal. You tell me everything."

"What's his then?" Angela nodded her head towards Shawn.

Shawn shook his head. "Nope, I'm done with this game, thank you." He knew Topanga would never tell Angela about his feelings for her, but he didn't want them hinted towards either. 

×××

Hamlet had been going on for a week. And Jack was even more jealous than before. People loved Eric. He was an amazing actor and he didn't even have to try. People had put reviews in the school paper about how wonderful Eric Matthews was in Hamlet.

Jack sat in the dressing room after the last show of that weekend, feeling a little depressed that it was already halfway over. There were no shows Monday and Tuesday, and it'd pick back up on Wednesday. 

He was hanging up his costume, having put on a flannel and jeans, not bothering to wipe off his stage makeup. Eric knocked on the door once before entering. 

"Hey, Jackie!"

Jack huffed, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of the mirror. "Hi." 

"Great show, huh? This acting thing is fun." Eric sat in the chair next to Jack, taking off the doublet from his costume and laying it over the back of his chair. 

"Yeah."

Eric looked down at his hands, then back up at Jack. "Jack, you've been sulking all day. Are you mad at me?"

Jack couldn't stand the sad puppy look on his best friend. "No… I just… I'm jealous."

"Of me?" Eric asked, brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because I worked so hard to be in this play. And I wanted your role so bad. And when you were able to just walk in and take it, it made me feel like… like I'm really not cut out for this."

"Jackie, no," Eric said, grabbing Jack's hand. "I was just in the right place at the right time. You are way better than me."

Jack picked up the copy of the school paper he had been looking at. "Look at these reviews, Eric. They're all talking about you. And it feels so selfish to be jealous of you."

"Jack, in your scenes, you absolutely blow me away. It's absolutely beautiful. Goodnight sweet prince makes me want to cry," Eric said sincerely. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm in love with you."

Jack dropped the newspaper. "What?"

"What?"

Jack was dying, he had to be. This time for real. "You're in love with me?"

"Yeah… I thought you knew," Eric said, confused. 

"How would I know?"

"Everyone knows! Eddie talks about it all the time."

Jack felt dizzy. "I thought he was making fun of me because I'm in love with you."

"You love me back?" Eric asked. "Huh. I thought you were straight. And maybe a little homophobic."

"Well I'm not. And I've been in love with you for the past year."

Eric rested his hand on Jack's thigh. "Wanna do something about that?"

His heart was beating a little too fast. "You gonna kiss me?"

"You want me to?" Eric shifted to be sitting in front of Jack, tilting his chin up with his finger.

No, his heart was pounding. "No. No, Eric we can't."

Eric moved his hand away. "Why not? Jackie, if we love each other-"

"Then who knows what could happen to us!" 

"Jack…" Eric reached out his arms, and Jack moved away from the gesture. 

"I had these neighbors in my apartment building back in New York," Jack said, suddenly, and Eric apparently had no idea where the conversation was going. "They were really nice, and really bad at keeping up the ruse that they were just roommates. But most people liked them just fine. I'd see them around the building, then I'd only see one, then they were both gone. Next thing I knew, their belongings were being taken out of the apartment, tossed away. I stole a shoebox of Polaroids, not knowing why at the time. I didn't know them, not well. And I still have it. Because it felt so wrong, throwing away the one bit of proof left that these men were alive and in love and-"

Jack let out a sob, and Eric pulled him into his arms, holding the other. "I'm scared," Jack whispered. "I'm so scared."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry we love each other." Eric really sounded like he meant it. And Jack made a decision right there. He never wanted to be sorry for being in love. He never wanted Eric to be sorry for loving him.

Jack's voice came out raspy. "Kiss me."

"Jack, you said-"

"I want us to be our proof that we're alive and in love."

Eric leaned forward, but hesitated for a moment, just an inch away. "Are you sure you want this?" 

Jack looked from Eric's lips to his hazel eyes. "More than anything."

Eric closed the space between them. 

Kissing Eric was like a million poetic cliches to Jack. Fireworks, butterflies, the whole nine yards. Jack ran his fingers through Eric's longish hair, as Eric hummed deep in his throat. Oh. 

Jack pulled away, crossing his legs. "You wanna go home?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

The two men drove back to the apartment, and from there went into Eric's room. The door was barely shut before Jack was being pushed against it, and Eric had recaptured Jack's lips. 

Jack half hoped Eric didn't notice how excited that had made him. He glanced down at Eric's own pants. Oh shit.

Eric was kissing down Jack's neck, and Jack covered his mouth to stifle an embarrassing moan. 

"Eric-"

Eric pulled back, looking at Jack with blown pupils. "Jack."

"I want you."

"As in-"

Jack nodded. 

Eric sighed, running a hand down Jack's chest. "Not tonight. I don't want this to feel like another casual hookup. But soon, I promise."

That was fine with Jack. 

"Do you wanna… oh God I sound so lame-" Jack shook his head. "Do you wanna cuddle or something? I've had a long night, I wanna fall asleep in your arms." 

Eric nodded enthusiastically. "Let's get ready for bed first."

Jack went into his own room to get his pajamas and wipe off his makeup. Then he brushed his teeth, and went back into Eric's room. 

Eric was making the bed, like he always did, before getting in. Jack got in next to him, wrapping his arms around Eric.

"This really isn't casual to you?" Jack asked. 

"No. I want to be your boyfriend. I mean, if it's okay with you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I like that." He felt his eyelids drooping. "G'night, Eric."

"Goodnight, sweet Jack."

Chapter Text

Being a ballerina did wonders for walking on eggshells, Emily found. 

It had been a few weeks since she had been back home, and the air constantly felt tense. 

And it got worse when she hit the one month point. 

The Chance family had just sat down to dinner, and Emily's mother said she had great news. 

"Emily, how'd you like to be a big sister?"

Emily furrowed her brow. "I… what? Fourteen years is a crazy age gap between two kids. Was it an accident?"

Luckily, her mother found that humorous. "It was definitely unexpected. But, yes, we're going to be having a baby. Isn't that exciting?"

Emily shrugged. "I guess. Maybe you can give me a break once you're focused on that thing."

"Excuse me?"

"Like… letting me go to public school."

"We let you quit the ballet academy, was that not enough?"

"Yeah, but you're still trying to force me into the life you wanted, not the one I want."

"That private academy is one of the best in the country," her father said. "You could do good to keep going there."

"It's an arts academy! They still have dance and art as the foreground! I want to be a paleontologist, you know this." Emily crossed her arms, not caring that she looked like a child. "It's just… you guys don't care about me, so why can't you just… not care?"

"Fine." Her father stood up. "We won't. You can leave."

When Emily didn't move to stand up, her father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her up. "Hey-"

"Pack your things, you can live with your brother."

"What- hold on-"

"You have until nine tonight to get your things together. I'll give you money for the bus, even."

Emily looked at her mother, who wasn't saying anything. 

"Fuck… alright."

Emily went into her room and packed her suitcase with all her dresses. She had her shoebox of Polaroids and Jurassic Park tapes and put it in her backpack, right next to her Samantha doll and her toe shoes. She took one last look at her room. Nothing else was hers. 

×

The bus dropped her off in Philadelphia, and Emily walked the streets in a blurry haze, walking to the apartment building.

When she got there, Emmie opened the door to the apartment without knocking, and stood there for a good ten seconds as her brain caught up with her, and she realized she was in the wrong apartment.

But Shawn was there, so hey, it was better than walking into a stranger's apartment.

There was Shawn, sitting on the coffee table, flipping through channels on the TV while a man with curly hair was fixing the cushions on the couch. They both looked over at her.

"Emily?" Shawn questioned, putting the remote down. "What are you doing back here?"

Emmie couldn't hold it together any longer. Tears streamed down her face and she walked over to Shawn and hugged him. Shawn hugged her back, letting her cry into his shoulder. 

"Emily, what's wrong?"

"I was back home for weeks and I hated every second there. We had one stupid fight and suddenly my dad doesn't care about his own child. And my mom's pregnant, so she can just have another kid to live vicariously through and I just…" she tried wiping her tears on her sweater. "I don't want to…" she couldn't breathe. She didn't know what was happening. 

"Emily? Emmie, listen to me-" 

Shawn was talking to her, but she couldn't focus on his words.

"Shawn, who is this?" Another voice was saying. 

"Jack's sister, I told you about her."

"Emily? Can you hear me, kiddo?"

Emily nodded, feeling lightheaded.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm at Shawn's home," she said.

"What day is it?"

"Sunday."

"Can you tell me what time it is?"

Emily glanced around the room for a clock, and Shawn held out his watch for her to read. "It's almost seven." She felt herself slowly come to her senses, but she continued to let her tears fall.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" the man asked. 

"Yeah. No. Um… are you Jonathan?"

"That's me."

"Okay. Thanks. Jack was right, you're really nice." Emily took a deep breath, picking up her things off the ground where she had dropped them. "I should talk to Jack. I have no idea where I'm going to stay now. I don't…" 

"We'll walk you down there," Shawn said.

"Thanks."

×××

Jack was definitely dead. He had died and gone to heaven, that was the only explanation for the situation at hand. 

He woke up in a bed that definitely wasn't his, covered by a soft blue comforter, an arm wrapped around him from behind. He sighed into the pillow. Nothing could disturb his bliss.

Except the knock on the bedroom door. 

Jack groaned, nesting deeper under the covers. 

A knock again. "I know you're both in there!" It was Eddie.

Eric got out of bed and threw on some pants and a sweater. "Come on, Jackie, let's get up and at 'em."

"No," Jack whined. "I'm tired."

"Usually you're up before me."

"You kept me up last night."

"Maybe you should go to bed earlier tonight." 

Jack sat up. "Nope, I'm up."

Eddie knocked on the door again. "You two better be decent because I'm just gonna open the door."

Jack got out of bed and put his jeans on over his boxers. Eric took a sweater off a hanger in the closet and handed it to Jack, who put it on. 

When Eddie opened the door, he walked right in, looking positively pissed. 

"Are you okay, man?" Jack asked

"I'm gonna kill your parents, I think."

"What?"

"What happened?" Eric asked.

Eddie nodded his head towards the door, and Jack went into the living room.

And sitting on the couch was Emmie, with her little rolling suitcase, clutching her doll in her arms. Shawn was sitting with her, and Jonathan was just outside the hall, waiting to talk to Jack.

"Jack, we've got a bit of a situation," Jonathan said. 

"I'll say. What's Emmie doing here?"

"She showed up at our place by mistake, had a bit of a panic attack before we brought her down here," Jonathan explained.

"She said your parents kicked her out. Permanently. She's only fourteen, it's so…" Eddie took a deep breath to avoid going on an angry rant. "What are we gonna do? She has nowhere to go."

Jack walked down the stairs and sat on the couch next to his sister. "Emily, hey."

Emily turned to give her brother a hug, sniffling into his sweater. "Jack, I don't know what to do."

"Shh, it's okay. We'll figure it out, I promise."

Eddie leaned against the couch. "I don't know if now is the time for comfort or solutions, but I will say…" he looked back to Jonathan, and then at Jack. "If you're okay with staying with Eric permanently, then Emily would have a place to stay. I'm sure Nebula could help walk you through the process of becoming Em's legal guardian, since she did the same thing with her sister."

Emily looked up at Jack. "Would that be okay?" she asked.

Jack looked over at Eric, who nodded. 

"Of course it's okay. Um… to be honest, me and Eric have been sharing his room lately anyway."

"Why?" Shawn asked. "You have your own room- oh!" He looked at the wall. "Nevermind. Good for you."

Emily smiled despite the tears. "Glad you finally figured that out. It was torture watching you two dance around each other while I was here last time." 

"Yeah… hey, Emmie, let's get your things in your room. We can do all the furniture moving around and decorating later this weekend, okay?" Jack stood up, holding a hand out to his sister. Then he looked to Jonathan and Shawn. "Thanks, you two. Sorry you had to deal with that."

"Hey, it's nothing. She's a good kid. And besides, the family of my family of… wait." Jonathan looked up at the ceiling. "The sister of the brother of my son- whatever."

Emily laughed at that. 

"Come on, Emmie." 

Emmie followed Jack down the hall into her new room. She put her suitcase and backpack down, and set her doll on the desk. 

"Emily, be honest with me," Jack said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now that I'm here," Emily insisted.

"No. You're not. And I don't want you pretending you are until you have a complete breakdown. Talk to me, please?"

"Jack. I'm fine." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"Okay. I see how it is," Jack said. There was only one way she was going to open up, he decided. "Jonathan!"

Jon peeked his head into the room. "You kids okay in here?" 

"Emily insists she's okay."

"I seem to remember that someone just had a panic attack in my living room, but okay," Jonathan said.

"I mean… I'm fine now. It was just a little crying, I'm seriously okay now."

"Well. If you insist, who am I to argue," Jonathan said. "Can I sit here?" He gestured to the desk chair and Jack nodded. "My leg's been acting up again. And I forgot my cane at the apartment. I think it's the weather that makes it worse."

Emily took off her sneakers and sat cross legged on the bed. "It was that motorcycle accident, right?" she asked. "Eddie told me about that."

"Yeah. After that happened, my parents tried getting me to go back to them, probably to rejoin the family business. Bullshit, you know?" Jon looked lost in thought for a moment. "Hey, you might know them, I know Jack said they live in the same apartment building yous did. The Turners."

Emily nodded. "I never liked them. Sorry."

"I don't think they ever liked me, at least not since I became my own person."

"I think I get that," Emily said. "My mother and father adored me as a child, absolutely doted on me. I was their little princess ballerina. But the second I started showing interest in other things, they got… weird. Like their love was so obviously conditional. And the way they treated Jack after he left made me so angry and I hated that place and that family and I needed to get out, I really did. But still, they're my family, and they're supposed to love-" she stopped, taking a deep breath. "Fuck."

"Language," Jack said. Ugh, he needed to stop hanging out with Stacy so much. "Sorry, ignore me."

Emily looked down at her hands. "I feel kinda lost right now. I know what I want to do with my life, but part of me wishes I just ignored that so I'd have parents that love me." Then her eyes widened and she looked up at Jonathan. "Hey, how'd you do that?"

Jon tilted his head to the side. "Do what?"

"He has that effect on us, I've found," Jack said. 

"What effect?" he asked.

"No matter how many walls we put up, you can get us to talk about our feelings," Jack said. "It's really lame."

"Yeah, Eddie said something like that to me once."

"But, Emmie, you know you can talk to me, right?" Jack asked.

Emily scratched the side of her nose. "Yeah, totally. I'm just… it's a lot right now. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel, myself." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "But it means a lot that you guys care."

"Yeah… I'm gonna let you get settled in, okay?" Jack said.

"Okay. Thanks." She looked down at her bobby socks. "For everything."

Jack and Jonathan left the room, and Jack closed the door behind him. She was going to be okay, she had to be.

"Thanks, Jon, for helping with that."

"It's no problem," Jonathan said. "So… you and Eric? When'd that happen?"

Jack laughed shortly. "Few days ago. He sorta let slip that he was in love with me. I say 'let slip' loosely, he totally thought I knew. I've loved him for the past year or so."

"I'm glad you're happy."

"Me too," Jack said with a smile. "And I'm glad everyone I really care about knows, we just have to tell Eric's family, and he feels certain they'll accept us. So…" then he stopped. 

He was forgetting someone…

"I still need to tell Stacy!"

×××

Shawn was at a crossroads. 

To be honest, he felt like that everytime he had to make any sort of decision. He was nothing if not dramatic. 

Shawn had officially gotten his letter of acceptance to Pennbrook. The Pennbrook University. Cory had gotten accepted, Angela had gotten accepted, Topanga had gotten accepted. The four of them could stay together for college. 

His boss at work offered him a full time position for after he graduated highschool. And Shawn loved his job, he loved photography. This was a huge opportunity. 

When Shawn told Cory at Chubbie's, his best friend's reaction was frankly less than ideal.

"But you're going to college right?"

Shawn shrugged. "I'm not sure… this is an amazing opportunity, Cor. I'm good at this, and I like it. But I also think I'd like college."

"But we have to go to college together. I will not have you throw your future away over some hobby, Shawn."

Shawn frowned. "I… what?"

"That's not what I meant, I didn't-" Cory sighed. "I didn't mean that."

"But you still said it. God, Cory, could you be any more self centered?" Shawn stood up. "I should go. Maybe Topanga can help me make a good decision."

"As if. She's skipping Pennbrook too."

"Topanga isn't going to college?"

"She's going to Yale."

Shawn rubbed his temple. "Right, of course. How could she throw away her future by going to Yale?" He shook his head. "No offense, Cor, but you really don't know my life."

"I don't? I've been the only person by your side the entire time."

"And why is that?" Shawn asked. "Because half the time it felt like it was just so you could feel self righteous, not because you actually cared about me."

Cory sighed. "Topanga said that too. Why does she have to be right about everything?"

"Everything?" 

Cory nodded. "Yup. She's got me pegged." Then he laughed. "That's what he said."

"You're the worst," Shawn said good naturedly. "Listen, Cory, whatever decision I make will be what's best for me. And you're just going to have to sit back and be happy for me, okay?"

"I will. Or I'll try."

At home, Shawn pitched his situation to Jonathan. 

"You could always become a part time student," Jon suggested.

"What?"

"Take the job, I think you should, and it's clear you really want it. And just take two or three classes instead. Because I know you, Shawn, and I know you'll like college. And it's clear you know it too. Don't choose one or the other, you know?"

"I think that's a great idea. But if I'm taking half the classes, I won't graduate at the same time as Cory and the others."

"That's just something you'll have to live with. But think about what you want."

Shawn nodded. "I think that's a really good idea. Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd figure it out for me."

Jon rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. And what would you have done if I hadn't figured it out for you?"

"Go to Stacy, probably. Then Feeny. I've got a chain of command going on here," Shawn said. 

"If you came to me first, does that make me at the top or the bottom of the chain?"

"Actually I went to Cory first. And he's at the bottom. So… at least you're higher than him."

"Oh, well at least there's that," Jon said with a laugh. "Hey, no matter what you do, I'll be proud of you, okay?"

Shawn nodded. "I know."

×××

Alan told everyone he had big news and to all meet at the store before opening. By everyone, that just meant the Matthews and Hunters (including Jon and Emily, apparently). Eddie was already going to be there, so it was whatever.

"What's so important that we had to be here this early?" Eric asked. He had his arm around Jack, his hand in the other's back pocket. Eddie figured they must've already told the Matthews they were together, then. Eddie just couldn't wait to make fun of them again.

"Okay, alright, enough waiting," Alan said. In the counter there was a smallish rectangular object covered in a piece of cloth. Alan put his hand on top of it. "Now, I've been toying with the idea of a new sign for the store, and I had our resident artist, Stacy, do a little prototype to see what you all think of it."

Eddie had to admit, he was curious now. He thought the current sign was perfectly fine. 

"So, drumroll please."

The group gave a very tired and halfhearted drumroll. 

"Well, good enough." Alan took off the cloth with a flourish, revealing the new sign.

Oh.

Eddie was positively floored.

It was a beautiful sign, a wood burned kind with a cherry red stain and shiny finish. Very rustic. The name of the store was underlined with a carving of an arrow that was painted– grey for the head and blue and red for the fletching.

"Matthews and Hunter

Outdoor and Sporting Goods"

Eddie forced his eyes away from the sign, looking up at Alan Matthews. 

"What do you think?" Alan asked, looking right at him. 

Eddie looked to his sister. "You knew about this?"

"Yeah."

"I… so what does this mean?"

"Well, it means I want you to be my business partner," Alan said. "We'd be equals in making business decisions, and running the store. You'd get more money too."

"I think I'd like that," Eddie said. "Thank you."

He felt his older brother put an arm around him, and he felt the pride radiating off of him. "I told you you'd turn your life around," Jack said.

"Thank you, too," he said to Jack.

"Me?"

"If it wasn't for you, I'd still be a criminal."

Jack ruffled his hair. It felt very… brotherly. 

×××

Stacy and Nebula were on a date. 

It was one of those late night coffee houses, and some guitarist was playing mediocre acoustic covers of grunge songs on the stage. Stacy had gotten their coffee and joined Nebula where she was sitting cozied up on the couch in the corner. 

Nebula kissed her before taking her drink. 

She looked great. Her hair pulled back in a half-updo, her makeup was all dark purple and smokey, her nails freshly painted to match her outfit of a long sleeved purple tee shirt and distressed tan overalls. Her promise ring caught the dim lighting, a little flicker as she brought her cup to her mouth, leaving lipstick stains on the rim.

"Hey, Neb?"

"Yeah?" 

"So… you've been my only girlfriend ever."

Nebula smiled, a little confused look in her eyes. "Yeah."

"And I know I've been your only girlfriend," Stacy continued. "And I just… people say to date around to make sure you end with the right person, but we never did. Do you ever feel, I don't know… insecure about that?"

Nebula shook her head. "No, not really. I love you, and I want to be with you. If I didn't, we wouldn't still be together after…" She looked up at the ceiling, thinking. She counted on her fingers. "Seven years. Holy shit, has it really been seven years? That's so amazing."

"Marry me."

Nebula's eyes were as wide as saucers, that deer in a headlights look that Stacy always found so endearing on her. "What?"

"I know we can't, legally, but I want to have a wedding. With cake and flowers and rings and I want to be your wife in everything but paper."

Nebula still looked stunned, until she laughed. And she kept laughing, tears in her eyes. Stacy was getting nervous. Maybe Neb was finally going insane.

"Nebbie-"

Nebula kissed her. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Stacy kissed her back. "Good."

… She said good.

Why did she say that?

Chapter Text

Shawn was looking at his most recent batch of developed photos, his gaze lingering on a few he had taken of Angela a few weeks ago. Their friend group had gone to a small band's show, and Shawn had been nervous taking his camera, and Angela kept saying, "if anyone breaks it, I'll punch them." 

He really loved her.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. 

"Come in," Shawn said, stacking up the photos. 

It was his sister. "Hey, kid," she said, sitting down on the bed. 

"Hey."

Stacy was picking at her fingernails. "So… how'd you like to be the best man at my wedding?"

Shawn's eyes widened. "What? You're getting married? When did this happen?"

"I proposed to her last night," Stacy said.

"Can you even get married?"

"Not technically, but we're gonna have a ceremony anyway. And I want you to be my best man."

That felt like a lot of pressure. "Are you sure?" Shawn asked.

"About getting married? Absolutely."

"No, I mean… me as the best man. What if I fuck it up?"

"Then we'll fix it." Stacy clapped him on the back. "I have full faith in you, though." 

"Okay."

"Also, language."

"Sorry," Shawn said. "Can I invite Cory?"

"I think Topanga already did," Stacy said.

"Darn. Can I invite-" He was about to say 'Angela' before Stacy cut him off. 

"You can have whoever you want for your plus one," Stacy said, giving him a knowing look. "The Matthews are letting us use their house for the wedding. It'll be a small, cozy affair."

"That's great. I'm really happy for you, Stace."

"Thanks, kid."

×

Shawn sat down next to Angela in poetry class, turning in his chair to face her. 

"My sister is getting married," he said as soon as he sat down. Angela looked surprised. 

"Oh. I thought-" Angela started.

"Well, not officially," Shawn clarified. "Like, they're doing a ceremony and everything, but there won't be any legal paperwork and stuff. I'm gonna be Stacy's best man."

"Aww, that's great."

"Do you wanna be my date? For the wedding?" Shawn asked, before clarifying, "Totally platonically, though. Like, my plus one. I'd ask Cory, but Topanga already did."

Angela hummed to herself. "Sure, why not. Write all the details down for me and I'll go."

"Yes! Thanks, Ange."

×

Shawn couldn't remember the last time he needed a suit for anything. 

But after a trip to a shop Shawn was convinced was way too expensive for them get a suit, and a lot of begging for Jon to not make him then take that suit to a tailor, Shawn stood in the bathroom and tried to tie his tie. Better to do it ahead of time, he always figured. Jon had to help him, and Shawn remembered when he was a kid, Stacy would always tie his ties for him. 

Shawn adjusted the shirt sleeve under his jacket so it wasn't twisted up. "Do you think I'll ever get married?" he asked Jon, looking at him in the mirror.

"You kids are the kings of just… randomly bringing up tough subjects," Jon deadpanned. "Which is weird because it's a pain in the neck trying to get you guys to open up."

Shawn shrugged.

Jonathan watched as Shawn loosened his tie a bit. "If you want to, I'm sure you could."

"Do you think I could get married and stay married?" Shawn asked.

"This about your dad still?" Jon asked.

"Isn't everything with me?" Shawn muttered. 

"I think you will," Jon said. "I think you'll learn from your father's mistakes. You'll be a good husband and a great father."

"I'd fuck up whatever poor kid I father."

"I used to think that too. But then you came along," Jon ruffled Shawn's hair, and Shawn immediately smoothed it back. "Still not entirely sure how that happened."

"I was a wild dog doing wild dog things."

It was two weeks before the wedding.

×××

"I have nothing to wear!"

Jack rolled his eyes at his sister's antics, as she looking through her plethora of flouncy, full skirted dresses, insisting that none of them would be appropriate for a wedding. 

"We have an entire two weeks to get you something," Jack said. "I can take you dress shopping."

"No," Emily said. "You are not taking me clothes shopping."

"Why not?" Jack asked.

"You have zero sense of style," she said. 

"What- yes I do!"

"You wear the same thing every day, just with a different flannel over top."

"You wear a million variations of the same dress every day," Jack pointed out.

Emily looked down at her dress. That day it was light blue with red polka dots. "Touché…"

"So… dress shopping?"

"No."

Eric was in the kitchen, dipping celery into peanut butter, sitting on the counter. "I can take you, I have to take Morgan anyway. That's my little sister." He took a bite of celery. "My mom was going to, but she's busy preparing for the baby."

"Baby?" Jack asked, walking over to Eric. This was news. "What? When did this happen?"

Eric shrugged. "Four months ago I think? My parents are kinda keeping it on the down low for now, since they're in their forties and are unsure about how healthy the baby will turn out." He got off the counter and put his arm around Jack's waist. "So, don't go around telling everyone, alright? This is a Matthews family secret. Shh." He held a stick of celery up to his mouth like a shushing finger. 

"We're not in the Matthews family," Jack said.

"You will be some day," Eric said seriously. "And Emmie will be my sister in law. And Shawn and Eddie will be my brothers in law? Hmm… I'm forgetting someone."

"Stacy."

"Right, obviously. But the Hunters and Matthews have been intertwined for so long, we might as well just merge the clans or whatever." 

Jack smiled and kissed Eric, ignoring the 'blegh' from his sister. 

"What was that for?" Eric asked, grinning. 

Jack pushed Eric's hair out of his face. "You really think we'll get married one day?"

"Yeah, I do. Sometime in the future. Even if not legally, we can do what the girls are doing."

"God, I love you so much, Eric."

Things were starting to settle down in Jack's life, it seemed. He felt calmer, in a way.

Emily was going to start attending John Adams High School after spring break was over, and Jack had reluctantly spoken to his parents and gone through all the paperwork to become Emmie's guardian. It was a big responsibility, he knew, but it had to be done. 

He slept soundly next to his boyfriend every night, and he'd wake up with the other man's arms wrapped around him, and he felt safe and loved.

And now, knowing that in Eric's mind, it was inevitable that they'd be husbands one day, Jack had never been happier. 

×××

Emily sat in the passenger seat of Eric Matthews's car, while Morgan sat in the backseat. Morgan talked a lot, just like Eric, and Emily was just glad she wasn't expected to. 

Eric was a careful driver, eyes never straying from the road, but he still talked and joked like usual despite how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. Emily figured it was road anxiety, Jack had been the same way driving her places, though he didn't used to be so cautious. Must've been a recent thing, she wasn't sure. 

Morgan was eleven, a few years too young for Emily to really relate to her, but she was fine to talk to. 

"So, Emily," Morgan started, apparently trying to make conversation, "You're another one of Shawn's siblings?"

Emily shook her head. "No. I'm Jack's sister."

"So… what?"

"Shawn and Jack share a father, Jack and I share a mother. So even though both of us are Jack's siblings, we aren't related to each other," she explained.

"Oh. I'm so glad my family is normal," Morgan said, before adding, "Not that you guys are weird or anything. Or like… nevermind, ignore me."

Emily laughed. "Okay."

Eric just took the girls to a department store, somewhere that it wouldn't be too expensive to buy them whatever dress they wanted there. 

Emily and Morgan walked around the girls' department, looking at the many spring-time easter-type dresses that were on display. They both looked at the pastel colours and tried to make a decision. 

Morgan found a blue dress with flowers, three ruffled flounces on the skirt to give it shape. It had inch wide straps with ruffles as well. After trying it on in the dressing room, she did a little spin for the other two. 

"That looks great, weasel," Eric said, and Emmie made a note to ask about 'weasel' later.

"I think I'll get it," Morgan decided. "I've got a headband that'll match."

"What about you, Em? Made a decision yet?"

Emily shrugged. "Most of these just feel like my usual everyday clothes," she said. "I guess that's what I get for deciding my personal style was gonna be 'easter dress'."

"Why don't we look in the juniors department?" Eric suggested.

"The huh?"

"You know, for like teens and stuff?"

Emily nodded. She'd give it a chance. 

×

Emily stared at herself in the mirror. The blue dress was darker than anything else she owned. It went down below her knees, and it was more A-line than flouncy or petticoated like her other dresses. The dark brocade pattern was also not her usual taste. But it looked gorgeous and she wanted it badly. 

"What do you think?" Eric asked through the closed door.

"I love it."

×××

There was a wedding boutique by the park that Stacy liked to sit outside sometimes when she wanted to draw the passersby. She never thought she'd go inside, especially not as the one picking out clothes for her wedding. 

She had dragged Jon along with her, and told Shawn to meet them there after he picked up the rings. She really hoped he wouldn't lose them in the next two weeks…

Stacy had picked out a beautiful vest with a sort of Polish floral design embroidered into it, with slacks that had matching embroidery on the cuffs. They'd need to be taken in a little, but Stacy was totally attached to her first choice. 

The boutique worker was putting clips in the back of the pants so Stacy could see what they'd look like once taken in. 

"Do I get a plus one?" Jon asked suddenly. 

Stacy raised her eyebrow at him. "I guess so. You seeing someone?"

"It's complicated."

"Oh? Complicated how?"

"Nevermind."

The boutique worker said she'd be back with the order form and the number for the tailor they worked with, and left. 

Stacy turned away from the mirror. "Jon, how long have I known you?"

"You first lectured me over the phone five years ago," Jon said. 

"You can tell me anything, man."

Jonathan looked up at the ceiling. "I've got this friend. We were roommates for a while, best friends sorta… roommates with benefits."

"Oh. And you're still in touch with her?" Stacy asked.

"After college we stopped the benefits part and we're just best friends. But I've always wished we could go back. And maybe take the next step. But maybe we're too old for that, we've been just friends for too long," he said with a sad laugh. "So nevermind."

"Jonathan, I don't think I've seen you date anyone since I've known you."

"Yeah, I've been busy."

"But not busy enough to not think about this woman?"

"It's…" Jon trailed off. "It's complicated."

"Do you like her?"

"More than anyone I've ever been with. Like, our roommates with benefits relationship was more committed than anyone I ever tried dating seriously. And I love-" He looked at the ceiling again. "Whatever. I'll ask him to go as friends. It'll be fine."

"Okay, if you insist," Stacy said, turning back to look at how the slacks fit her. Then she froze. And turned back around. "Him?"

"Huh?"

"Him?"

Jon sighed. "Yeah."

"Who?" 

"I shouldn't say." 

Stacy hummed to herself, adjusting her collar. "I think I made the right choice," she said. "I like the folkart kinda design." She watched out of the corner of her eye at Jon's disposition, clearly still uncomfortable from the conversation. "Jonathan, I'm marrying a woman next weekend. You know I don't care if you're gay. That would literally be the dumbest, most hypocritical thing."

"I'm not-" Jon leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know."

"Bisexual, then? Like Eric?" Stacy ran her fingers through her bangs, trying to get them to lay right. "You can like both."

"Maybe. I think I like both in some ways, but in the way that matters most to me… it's just him."

Stacy bit the inside of her cheek. "Jon… are you okay?"

"What?"

"Your problem, as I see it, is the exact thing you get onto me about. You deal with everyone's problems and never sit down and talk about your own."

"I do sometimes."

"Literally the only time you do is to get us to open up. Jonathan, you have been through so much shit. Are you okay?"

"I'm not in the mood for this," Jon said, sharply. 

"Can I borrow one of your ties?" Stacy asked. 

"We can splurge on a tie, Stacy, you don't need-"

"I wanna wear one of yours," she insisted. 

Jon put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "I'd be glad to let you- I'll even help you tie it."

Stavy smoothed her shirt down. "It's starting to feel real, the wedding and everything. I'm having Shawn pick up the rings as we speak. This is happening."

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Absolutely not. I'm even more excited every day," Stacy said. "We're basically already married. I'm just a little nervous for the wedding itself."

Jon was looking down at his hands. "It's Eli. In case you were still wondering," he said. "It's been eating at me since he moved down here because of the teaching job. I was getting better at moving on, and then he moves to Philadelphia and suddenly I'm a lovelorn teen again. And my main problem is that I don't think he'd want to go back to our old arrangement even if I asked. I'm not the same person I was when I first moved out and to Philly. I adopted a kid, I had a life altering accident, and I still have no idea what I'm doing. I still-" he exhaled suddenly, like the air was being ripped from his chest. "I have no idea who I am anymore. I used to. I used to be so sure about that. But now… And Eli won't want to be with a single parent, I doubt it." 

"Jon-"

Jon furrowed his brow. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Stacy asked, before her eyes widened, a small smile appearing on her face. "I'm you."

"Huh?"

"We're the same, Jonny boy. And we both need therapy."

"I think you might be right," Jon grumbled. 

Chapter Text

Stacy walked into the auto shop, ignoring the big 'closed' sign in the door. Her uncle really needed to start locking the place so no one just walked in. Like she was doing. 

"Uncle Mike?" Stacy called. She walked into the back office, where her uncle was reclined back in his chair, snoozing. "Look alive, Mike." She kicked the chair, jolting him awake.

"Huh? Stacy!" Her uncle stood up, stretching. "How's my favorite niece?"

"I'm still your only niece."

"As far as we know," he said with a smile. If there was anyone who liked joking about Chet Hunter's million kids, it was Mike. 

"I'm getting married," Stacy announced.

Mike's smile immediately fell. "What?"

"I'm getting married. This weekend," Stacy said. "I hope it's not too short notice and you can still come, I'd like you to be there."

"Woah, Stacy, hold on. You shouldn't feel the need to settle down with someone for… I don't know, whatever reason you have to get married suddenly. Are you pregnant? I hope not-"

"Uncle Mike, you hold on," Stacy interrupted. "I'm getting married to my girlfriend. Remember Nebula?"

"Oh thank goodness. I thought you were gonna give me a heart attack." He patted her on the back. "I'll be there, don't worry."

"Thanks."

"Oh, by the way, you should check out what I've got in the garage right now." Her uncle nodded his head towards the garage door, and started walking that way, Stacy followed. 

There was a very busted looking Harley Davidson, mid-wheel change. 

Stacy whistled lowly. "She's seen better days," she said. 

"Found it at a scrapyard, got it for dirt cheap," Mike said. "I'm trying to see if I can fix her up."

Stacy circled the bike. "1980 Wide Glide?" 

"You sure?"

She looked at it closer. "Yeah."

Her uncle patted her on the back. "That's my girl," he praised. "You still into bikes?"

Stacy shrugged. "In theory more than practice. I'm not sure if I still have the guts to ride one."

"That's a shame. How come?" he asked.

"You know Jonathan Turner, right?"

"That's Shawnie's guardian, yeah?"

"Well, I guess. He adopted him, so he's his… father, so…"

"I know that," he said. "Just… the only reason you kids are related to me is because your father is my brother. And I know it's good he has that Turner guy, but you know what I mean, right?"

"But either way, you're the one who looked after us," Stacy said. "Either way, um… the point is that a year ago, Jonathan got in a really bad motorcycle accident, and it took a toll on all of us. We're all a little shaken about it still. I mean, Shawn refused to even get into a car for weeks."

"That's understandable."

Stacy looked at her watch. "Well, I gotta head out. I have an appointment at the tailor for my suit," she said. "Remember to mark your calendar. Sunday at the Matthews house at five." The wedding started at six, but she knew he'd be late. 

"I'll be there."

Stacy was about to walk out the door, but stopped. "Oh, by the way-"

"Yeah?"

"Wear a suit."

"What has this family become?"

×××

Shawn was standing in front of the mirror, trying to get his hair gelled back, when there was a knock on the front door. 

"Shawn, get the door!" Jon called from his room. 

"On it!"

Shawn washed his hands and went into the living room, opening the door. 

"Wow."

Angela was wearing a gorgeous dark red dress and her spirally hair was put up in a ponytail. Her makeup matched her dress, with dark lipstick and pigmented red eyeshadow. 

"Hey, Shawn."

Shawn couldn't pull his eyes away from the girl. "Hi." He looked down at his own clothes, he was just wearing his undershirt and slacks. "I'm still getting ready," he admitted.

"I hope so," Angela said. 

Shawn felt his face get hot. "You can sit, if you want," he said, gesturing to the couch. "Do you want something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks." Angela sat on the couch and crossed her legs, looking around the room. "Nice place."

"Thanks, I guess."

She looked down at the coffee table, where the photo album Shawn got for Jon a couple Christmases ago sat next to a scattering of Magic the Gathering cards. She picked up the photo album. 

"Can I?"

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, it's just some pictures I took for Dad. Jon, I mean. Um… I'm going to finish getting ready," he said awkwardly.

He went back into his room and put on his shirt, vest and suit jacket. He cleaned his glasses on the fabric of his vest and put them back on. 

Shawn looked at his shoe options. There were some nicer black boots, and he figured that was as good as he was getting. 

He went back out into the living room and saw Angela getting towards the back of the photo album. Shawn leaned over the back of the couch. "Hey, I'm ready."

Angela turned around. "Did you take all of these?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm better now, I promise. These were all taken with disposable cameras. Jon got me a good camera that same Christmas."

Angela turned to the last filled page. "What's this?" she asked, pointing at a photo-sized clipping of wrapping paper, the paper that Shawn had wrapped the album with and wrote "To: Dad, From: Shawn." 

"Oh. That's sorta the first time I called him Dad. I guess he really wanted to remember it."

"You guys are cute," Angela said. "You've got a good dad."

Shawn smiled. "Yeah, I do," he agreed. "Are you ready to go?"

Angela nodded. 

Shawn walked over to Jon's room and let him know he was leaving, and he and Angela left. 

"So-" Angela started as she started up the car. "Your sister and Panga's sister, huh?"

"Yup. I've never seen two people so in love. Makes me sick," he joked.

"I've seen people that in love," Angela said. "Person. I've seen one person like that."

"Oh?"

"Yup. Pretty much all of my friends knew she was head over heels for this guy."

"Did he love her back?"

"We never found out. She got scared and left before it could become anything."

Shawn sighed, looking out the window.

"You ever been in love?" Angela asked.

"Once," Shawn admitted. "She didn't love me back."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault." It wasn't, but he still wasn't sure why he said it. 

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

×××

Eddie was placing the chairs in the Matthews' living room to make sure they were evenly spaced. He had driven Emily and Jonathan to the house, Emily was sitting on the stairs, helping Morgan do her hair and Jonathan was helping Amy make sure there was food for before the wedding (no one wants to sit through an entire wedding hungry, especially not Stacy). 

Meanwhile, Shawn and Angela were laying out a long white carpet in between the rows of chairs. 

Nebula was the first of the brides to arrive, Topanga carrying a tote of everything they'd need to do her hair and makeup. Eddie got a glance at the dress, all pretty and white and floral. They went up to Morgan's room to get ready. 

"I wonder who will be the next Hunter to get married," Shawn said, glancing at Eddie. 

"Oh, definitely Jack. He and Eric are completely obsessed with eachother," Eddie said.

"It can't be that bad," Shawn said.

"You don't have to live with them," Eddie said.

"You should've heard them the other day-" Emily started, and Shawn made a face, so she clarified, "I mean the lovey-dovey stuff they were saying. Get your mind out of the gutter." She tied off Morgan's hair. "What about you, Shawn?"

"What about me?"

"You seeing anyone? Any lucky lady? Lucky… guy?"

Shawn glanced over at Angela, who was looking at him expectantly. Eddie looked from one teen to the other. Yeah, he didn't really want to know what the hell they had going on. 

"Not right now," Shawn admitted.

"They say he would go out with a different girl every week," Angela said. "But I haven't seen it, so I'm not sure if that's to be believed."

"I totally did," Shawn said. "There was Hilary and Dana and Veronica and Linda and Debbie and-"

"We don't need a roster, Shawn," Morgan teased. 

"And Angela," Shawn finished. "There were plenty more, but those were the more notable ones."

"Angela like-" Emily gestured to Angela, who was standing right there. 

"Yeah."

"Oh, I'm notable, huh?" Angela said with a smile. 

Shawn didn't smile back. "Yeah."

Eddie definitely didn't want to know what the hell they had going on.

"Enough interrogating me, okay?" Shawn said. "Eddie, your turn."

"Not doing this," Eddie said. He really hadn't been with anyone in years. But he wasn't going to admit that to his brother with a playboy reputation, then he'd sound lame. 

"Okay, fine," Shawn said. 

×××

Stacy walked into the house, carrying her suit in a garment bag. Nebula was getting ready in Morgan Matthews' room, so Stacy got Cory's room. 

She didn't really need Shawn's help in getting ready, but she wanted him there for moral support. He was the best man after all. 

"You do have the rings, right?" Stacy asked, putting the tie Jonathan had let her borrow around her neck. 

"Yes, they're in my pocket," Shawn said. He started tying the tie for her. She let him, even though she could fully do it herself. 

Stacy put on her vest and caught Shawn staring at her. "What?" she asked.

"I'm so proud of you," he said. 

"Thanks kid." 

"It's six o'clock, girls!" Amy called from the hallway. "Are you ready?"

Stacy looked at her brother. "Is it too late to start stressing?" she joked.

"Yeah," Shawn said. "Go get her."

Chapter Text

Stacy met Nebula in the fifth grade. They didn't really know each other. Nebula was just that weird hippie girl. Stacy was antisocial and didn't talk to anyone.

Stacy really met Nebula outside the trailer on the day she forgot Shawn at school and Nebula had to walk him home. Nebula was kind, the world hadn't beaten it out of her. Stacy was an angry, scared girl with a million walls built up.

Stacy met Nebula at the top of the stairs. Nebula's hair was adorned with little white flower clips and a flowing white dress with colored floral embroidery. Stacy was wearing a black vest and pants with similar embroidery. Like a matching set of bride and groom cake toppers, it was meant to be. 

Nebula took off her promise ring and handed it to Stacy, who put it in her pocket. They held hands all the way down the stairs, and didn't let go. 

They got George to officiate, because who else would they get? 

Their vows were short and sweet. They didn't want to prolong the process any more than they had to, besides, they'd have plenty of time for speeches at the reception. They had plenty of time for romantic words later that night (after their other planned activities).

Shawn handed them both the rings and they put them on each other's hands. 

George hadn't even finished saying "you may now kiss the bride" before Stacy's lips were on Nebula's. It was an awkward sorta kiss, because neither of them could stop smiling. 

The reception was outside. There were enough tables set up for everyone, and the lawn furniture had been moved to the garage for more space. It was cozy. 

It was a short guest list, but still longer than Stacy had ever imagined at her wedding. All three of her brothers and Jon and Eli and George and all of the Matthews and her uncle and Shawn's friend Angela and Topanga and Nebula's parents.

"If anyone had asked me as a kid if I thought my sister would ever get married, I'd probably have laughed in their face." This was exactly the kind of embarrassing best man speech Stacy had imagined her youngest brother giving. "Stacy has always been the most independent person I've ever known. She was a protector first and foremost. A caretaker, maybe. A sword and shield. But if there's one person Stace never had to protect, it was Nebula. Nebula was the first person to show Stacy that she could be cared for. Of course it still took several years and several more people to finally drill it into her stubborn head." Shawn smiled as he continued. "Stacy, you and Nebula were the people who really first convinced me that love was real. It always felt like a privilege that was far too out of reach for people like us. But here you are. I'm glad you get that."

Stacy put her arm around his shoulder, leaning her head against his. "You will too," she thought to herself.

Shawn raised his glass. "To the newlyweds. I hope you don't get divorced, but if you do, at least you won't need to bring paperwork into it."

Nebula thought that was funnier than she maybe should've. She smiled at Stacy sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I love you so much."

"You'll love me even more tonight." Nebula winked at her. 

"Shut up, you're the worst." Stacy kissed her for what had to have been the fiftieth time that day. 

"I love you too."

Stacy had never been scared of love. She was more scared that she'd never be able to find it, and then that maybe what she found wasn't it.

But the woman getting up from her seat, grabbing Stacy's hand and dragging her to the dance floor, was everything Stacy could ever want. It was love. 

×××

Shawn got done with his speech, and stayed seated to listen to Topanga's, which was a lot sweeter than his. 

The wedding really was beautiful. The brides both looked happier than Shawn had ever seen them. 

He looked over at where Angela was leaning against the tree house ladder, and approached her. "Thanks for coming, Ange."

"No problem, I'm having a good time," she said, looking around. "Never did I ever think I'd be going to my teacher's wedding, but I guess that's life, baby." Angela looked up at the tree. "Is this Morgan's tree house?"

"Cory's, actually. We've spent many a summer afternoon up there. It's also how I sneak into his room sometimes."

"What?" Angela chuckled.

"I climb up the ladder, into the treehouse, through the window, across a branch, onto the roof, and through Cory's window," Shawn explained.

"Do you think it's big enough for two people our size?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "Me and Cory still hang out up there. Not a lot of leg room, though."

Angela started up the ladder. 

"Where are you going?" Shawn asked.

"Come on, Mr. Spontaneity."

Shawn followed behind, keeping his eyes directed at the ladder so he didn't accidentally look up. 

It was a little cramped up there, but after a minute of moving around, Shawn was able to get in a leisurely position. "Why are we up here?" he asked. 

Angela let out a sigh. "I just needed to get away for a moment. Just talk to you, maybe."

"Yeah, I get it," Shawn said. He took in Angela's profile as she looked at the wall. "Nice up here, right? I remember me and Cory loved sitting up here to have deep conversations when we didn't want Eric to hear. Now we just do it in his room because Eric's not there." 

"What kind of deep conversations do guys like you two have?"

"I don't know, things like how we think our lives would have turned out if we hadn't met, or wondering where we'll end up at the end of everything. What happens to us in the end? What are we alive for?" Shawn leaned his head back against the wall. "And sometimes things like… if you could have the cast of any sitcom as your team in the zombie apocalypse, who would you choose? He insists Friends, but I think they'd get killed five minutes in because they would be too busy arguing."

"Fresh Prince," Angela said without hesitation. 

Shawn laughed. "Fresh Prince?"

"Yeah. I imagine Carlton would get killed five minutes in, maybe Hilary too. But then with them out of the way, the rest would fare just fine."

"Solid argument." 

Angela looked out the treehouse entrance at the rest of the wedding guests. It really was the perfect Spring evening. The air was clear, the wind was just a subtle breeze, the temperature was cool.

"I love weddings," Angela said suddenly. "They're so beautiful."

"Me too," Shawn said, although this was the only one he'd ever been to. "Hey, um… I'm really glad you decided to be my date, even if we aren't together."

Angela smiled and looked over at him. "You know… Cory once told me about this time you two went on a double date, before he and Topanga got together, and you told him that a date isn't a date until you kiss."

Shawn's own smile fell. "I was a different person then, Angela."

Angela's didn't falter. "So this could be a date? Even though we haven't kissed."

"What? No. I've accepted it, okay? This isn't a date." Shawn crossed his arms. Why did she seem to be rubbing it in?

"So what would I have to do to make it a date?" she asked. 

Shawn huffed. "Angela, just tell me what you're trying to say."

"I'm saying that I think we should try this again."

Shawn swore he felt his heart stop. "This being?"

"I think I know how you feel about me," Angela admitted. Her dark eyes bore into his soul and Shawn felt exposed. 

He felt his face get hot, knowing he was probably red as a tomato. "What are you talking about? Did Cory say anything? Or Panga?"

"Shawn, be real right now. The way you act around me, the mixtape, the fact that you pretty much didn't go out with anyone after I rejected you. I realized a while ago that things were different. In fact, I was even going to ask you out on Christmas Eve, if I hadn't been interrupted by the entirety of A Christmas Carol." Angela put her hand over Shawn's, which was shaking just slightly. "You weren't the guy that all the other girls told me about, at least not anymore. You're a romantic and we understand each other. So if it's okay with you, I want to try us again."

Shawn's eyes were wide as he stared into Angela's deep brown ones. He glanced down at her lips, painted that dark burgundy color that matched her dress. "Can I…"

Angela kissed him. 

And once again, he felt like he understood life and love and everything beautiful in the world. 

He pulled away, hands shaking, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you," he said. 

"I love you too."

"But I'm scared, Ange. I… I'm scared I'll end up like my dad." Shawn rested his hands on her waist. "I don't want to end up the kind of person who drives everyone away."

Angela kissed him again. "I'm scared too," she said. "I'm scared I'll end up like my mom. She abandoned the people who loved her most, and I don't want to do that. But you have to take the risk."

"True love shouldn't be a risk," Shawn whispered, just loud enough to Angela to hear.

"But it is," Angela said. "And it's one I'm ready to take."

He was ready too.

"Let's try this again."