Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shawn remembered the first day he woke up and felt okay like it was yesterday.

Because it was.

It was weird, because in recent years Shawn hadn't really thought he wasn't okay. But when he woke up on that early June morning, the summer after he graduated highschool, and laid in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, he felt genuinely okay. 

He was a completely different person than the scared, anxious kid who first showed up at his teacher's doorstep, who insisted on calling his big sister every day, who had no idea who he was or what he was doing, who was desperate for someone to see him.

Now, he had a family, friends, a job, a girlfriend. He knew who he was and where he was going.

Now summer was the last time his friends would all be together for a while, with Topanga going to Yale in the fall, so he wanted to make the most of it. 

The four of them had sat down right after graduation in May and made a list of the things they wanted to do. 

"We have to go to the beach once a week," Topanga had said, and Cory had complained about the drive to the nearest beach. 

"And we'll have to see all the romantic comedies that come out this summer," Angela had said, and Cory had complained about chick flicks. 

"And we can go to the next poetry reading at the coffee house next month, maybe I'll finally read one of mine," Shawn had said, and Cory had complained about not liking poetry. There were a lot of complaints from Cory, but the look on his face depicted nothing but excitement. 

Shawn had also decided that before the end of the summer, he was going to get his first tattoo, and he was grappling with whether he should take his sister, his dad, his best friend, or his girlfriend to go with him and hold his hand when it got to be too much. But to be fair, he still hadn't decided what he wanted, so he had time to decide that. 

So, yeah.

Everything was okay.

Fate must hate that, huh? 

Because it was fate that knocked on the apartment door during dinner. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. 

×××

Eddie still couldn't believe what his life had become, in the best possible way. Only two years ago, he was still a criminal.

And now he was helping hang up the new sign for the Matthews and Hunter store. 

His other siblings had a weird connection to Jonathan (he definitely didn't have a weird bond with the guy, no way, never happened), but Eddie mostly leaned on Alan Matthews as a sort of father figure. 

The Matthews and the Hunters apparently had a long history, ever since Shawn and Cory were in kindergarten and became best friends. Then there's the whole Jack and Eric being hopelessly in love with each other (blegh), and then Alan giving Eddie the chance he needed, with the job at the store, and then becoming a business partner. 

Once the sign was in place, Eddie and Alan called a break for lunch, and the two sat down at one of the picnic tables in the vacant store. Eddie had a bologna sandwich with mustard in a paper bag. Alan had the same thing, but with chips.

"That was exhausting," Eddie said through a mouthful of sandwich. "It looks great, though."

"Sucks we had to come in on our usual off day to do that," Alan said. Fair point. They had planned to set up the sign on Sunday, one of the days the store is closed. They were very short staffed, literally just the two of them, and Amy Matthews helped in her free time.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that, sort of," Eddie said. "And by sort of I mean not really. Completely unrelated, but it connected in my head."

"Oh?"

"I think we should hire more staff."

Alan shook his head. "I don't know, Eddie. I'm not sure it's within our budget."

"The way I see it," Eddie said, "if we hire more people, then the store can be open longer. With more hours, we'll get more business and they'll basically pay for themselves, you know?"

Alan nodded. "I like that. I knew making you a partner was a good idea. Plus you just know how to pitch ideas."

"You forget who my father is," Eddie said with a laugh. "Our family used to say Chet Hunter could pitch prostitutes to a priest."

"Normal thing to say," Alan quipped. "Anyway, we can post a help wanted flier on the front door."

Eddie nodded. "I'll get on that after lunch.

×××

Stacy was the happiest she had been in probably her entire life. Maybe an exaggeration, but she was on cloud nine, baby!

The wedding and honeymoon had well passed, and summer vacation had just started. Stacy was recently given the chance to submit some works to an exhibition happening at the end of summer, thanks to one of Nebula's coworkers, who had seen one of Stacy's paintings in the bookstore and had connections. It helped to know people, when it came to a lot of professions.

So all in all, things were going pretty well. 

Stacy was thinking about that as she leaned against the railing of the fire escape, looking down at the street. 

"Long day?" 

Stacy looked over. It made sense that the fire escape at the guys' apartment would be right next to hers, but she didn't really think about it until she saw Emily standing just a few feet away. 

"Yeah, but a good day," Stacy said. "I might have my art in a gallery soon."

"That's good," Emily said. "I, um… I signed up for art history next year." She stood on her tiptoes and then went back down. "So you'll have more family in your class again."

Stacy hadn't really thought about it, but she pretty much had her brother in one of her classes throughout her entire teaching career. "Yeah I guess so," she said. She didn't mention that she felt a little happy Emily saw her as family. "What brings you out here?"

"I come here to think," Emily said. "The noise reminds me of New York."

"Jack says the same thing."

Emily smiled at that. 

×××

Things were getting really good for Jack lately. "Things" being his family, his love life, and his mental stability. 

It was his and Eric's first summer together (together together) and Jack was already planning the perfect two months in his head. Eric said he preferred to live vacations by the seat of his pants, but Jack insisted they had some sort of plan. Maybe the two of them could have a week in Florida. But then there was Emily and Jack didn't want to leave her when this was her first summer away from New York. 

Well, summer had just started, and he had time to figure it out. 

Or so he thought. 

It was time for the weekly family dinner. The group was all sat on the couch like always, (Shawn, Eddie, and Jack on the floor in front of the coffee table, Stacy on the arm rest with her feet on the cushion, Emily had elected to sit on the back of the couch, and Jon was sitting… normally) watching the movie Jack and Emily had picked up from Blockbuster, when there was a harsh knock on the door.

Jack was closest, so he answered it. 

There was a big burly trucker-looking guy standing in the hall. 

"Can I help you?" Jack asked. 

"Well shit, I think I got the wrong place," the man said in a thick southern accent. "You know which apartment belongs to that Turner guy?"

"Um, yeah, I-" Jack turned around. "Hey, Jonathan, this guy's here to talk to you?"

"I'm actually looking for my son. Shawn Hunter? He still lives here right?"

Jack swore his heart stopped. "Give me one moment," he said, shutting the door. Then he looked to his siblings. "Problem. Big problem."

Chapter Text

Shawn froze when he heard the unmistakable voice. He suddenly got that feeling of fuzzy ick in between his skin and bones and he wanted to run. 

From the looks of his siblings and Jonathan, everyone else had realized too.

"Jon, you and Emily go in the other room," Stacy said. And when Jon went to protest, she added. "Trust me, I'll handle it quickly." 

"Emily, go wait in Shawn's room," Jon said. He didn't move to leave, and Shawn moved to stand by him. He didn't need protection, he was almost nineteen, he just… whatever.

Stacy opened the door and immediately said, "Go away."

"Is Shawn there, I kind of need to-" Chet stopped suddenly. "Stacy?"

"Lucky guess," Stacy said, the joke not showing through her voice.

"You've really become an adult, huh?"

"I've been an adult since I was six years old," Stacy spat. 

"Look, can you just leave?" Jack asked. 

"Who the hell's this kid?" Chet asked, before looking past him into the apartment. "Shawnie! It's your dad."

Shawn didn't move, his arms crossed, looking at the ground. He didn't want to let his father control his actions anymore. He wouldn't be scared. He couldn't act afraid. He looked up glaringly.

"He doesn't want to talk to you, and neither do we," Eddie said.

"Eddie? Long time no see."

"Fuck off."

"Don't take that attitude with me," Chet ordered, and Eddie scoffed.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asked.

"No, seriously, who is this guy?"

"I'm your son. Jack Hunter?" Jack said. He sounded a little too hopeful for Shawn's liking.

"Oh." Chet looked at him closer. "Definitely long time no see."

"Chet, none of them want to talk to you," Jonathan said, voice sharp. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm just here to apologize."

"Apologize to this." Eddie held up a middle finger.

Chet looked down at Eddie's hand. "Sorry." 

"Dad- Chet, you should just leave," Jack said. "We're sorta not in the right headspace to talk to you right now."

"Or ever," Shawn said.

"Well, it is now or never," Chet said. "Because I don't have a lot of time left."

Shawn felt like his heart had stopped. "What, like, you're dying?"

"What? No, no. The feds are after me, they're hot on my trail. Figured I'd talk to you before-"

"Shit." Stacy kicked the wall. "This is so fucking typical of you. Just go away."

"Alright. I'm staying in the motel on seventh avenue," Chet said. "I'll still be in town tomorrow. Maybe we can try again." And he left. 

Stacy shut the door, and nobody spoke for a moment. 

"Guys… I want to talk to him," Jack said. Everyone looked to him, shocked. 

"No, Jack we've been over this," Stacy said. "You don't want to get to know him. He's a bad father, and person in general."

"But he's my father. He's blood. That has to count for something, yeah?"

"We share blood," Shawn said, frowning. 

"You know what I mean. I just… I want to get to know my biological father. I always felt like something inside me was missing, and maybe that's it."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "I never knew my biological mother. Neither did Stacy. Why should it matter?"

"Because you three talk about him all the time! You have memories with the guy, even if they are mostly bad, you still knew him. I never did. It's like sometimes I feel I'm not even part of this family. Because he's the only reason I'm related to the three of you."

"I'm sorry," Stacy said. "If you want to talk to him, that's up to you. But it's not a good idea."

"I'll go with him, then," Eddie suggested.

"I don't think you should," Shawn muttered.

"You're not in charge of me," Jack said. "I'm an adult, this is for me to decide." Then he looked to Eddie. "Thanks, Eddie. We can go after dinner."

Shawn didn't like this one bit.

×××

Jack was getting second thoughts. 

Eddie had to be the one to knock on the door.

They had asked the guy at the desk if a Chet Hunter had checked in that day and he pointed them to room eight and Eddie had to be the one to knock on the door. 

"Hold on! Give me a second!" The door opened and Chet seemed surprised to see them. "Hey, boys."

"You sure answered that door eagerly for someone worried about the law catching up to them," Eddie deadpanned.

"Well, I'm not the smartest man sometimes," he said, but he sounded disingenuous. "Anyway, come on in. Where's Stace and Shawnie?"

"Stacy and Shawn," Eddie said, a little forcefully, as if he didn't believe Chet should get to call his kids by any sort of nickname, "didn't want to see you. I'm only here to support Jack."

"Well, at least one of my children want something to do with me," Chet grumbled. "Jack. Hey. How's your mama?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno. I don't talk to her anymore. She hid that I had other siblings and wouldn't apologize."

"Hmm…" Chet nodded slowly. "I sure know how to pick 'em, huh?"

"I guess." Jack had to admit, the man had a point. It's like all of his siblings' mothers had a million problems each. "Can I come in?"

Chet took a step back. "Make yourself at home. Or as much as you can in a motel room."

From the looks of it, Chet wasn't planning on staying long. He had one small suitcase open on the bed. 

"So, I imagine your siblings have told you about me, right?" Chet asked.

Jack fidgeted with his shirt buttons. "A bit, yeah."

"Any good things?"

Jack considered lying, but he shook his head.

Chet sighed. "Yeah, that figures. I know I wasn't the best father-" Eddie laughed at that "-but that's why I came back. To fix things. You four deserve to have a good father."

"We do," Jack said. "Sort of. We have Jon Turner."

"And Alan Matthews," Eddie added.

"They're good people. Good men, good role models."

Nothing else was said for a few minutes. Eddie seemed fully on the defense, prepared to go offense if need be. Jack was getting more nervous by the minute. 

"You should come over for dinner tomorrow," Jack suddenly blurted, and Eddie shoved him. 

"Dude, what?"

"Are you sure about that?" Chet asked.

"I'll ask my roommates to get lost for the night," Jack said, thinking he could give Eric some money for him and Emily to go see a movie or something. "I just… this isn't comfortable. But I think dinner could be. I'll even ask Shawn and Stacy if they're up for it. I wouldn't bet on it, but it couldn't hurt to ask." Jack looked over at Eddie.

"Sure." It looked like it physically pained him to say.

"See, Eddie's fine with it."

"Alright," Chet said. "I'll go."

×××

"I'm so totally pissed at Jack," Stacy said as soon as she walked into Jonathan's apartment the next morning. She glanced around and saw he wasn't there, but Shawn and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch. "Oh. Hey."

"Hi, Miss Hunter," Angela greeted. 

"Why are you mad at Jack?" Shawn asked. 

"I'll tell you later."

"Does this have anything to do with your dad being back?" Angela asked, and Shawn nudged her with his elbow.

"Ange-"

"I'm just using context clues, babe. You call me over to vent about your dad, apparently Jack went to talk to him despite you two saying he shouldn't, now Stacy- Miss Hunter is mad at him."

"Please stop calling me Miss Hunter," Stacy said.

Angela hummed to herself. "Missus Hunter?"

Oh, she hadn't even considered that. Stacy twisted her wedding band around her finger. "Just Stacy is fine. I'm not your teacher, I'm just your boyfriend's older sister."

"So, about Jack?" Shawn prompted. 

"I'll leave you two alone," Angela said, giving Shawn a quick kiss and leaving the apartment. 

Stacy sat down on the couch. "He and Eddie are having dinner with Dad tonight."

Shawn stood up. "What?" he asked. "Are they out of their minds?"

"They want us to join them."

"Are they out of their minds?" Shawn repeated, a little more manic.

"Shawn…" Stacy looked up at the ceiling. "He can't hurt us anymore. I'm almost twenty-five, you're almost nineteen, we're all adults. If he tries anything, that's just regular assault, and the law will take that more seriously."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not saying we should feel the need to talk to the guy," Stacy clarified. "I just think, you know… if we did want to, we shouldn't feel scared."

Shawn crossed his arms. "Am I the only sane one left in this family?" Well, she tried her best. 

"I'll tell them you said no," Stacy said. "Maybe I won't go either. Stupid Jack and his need to talk to Dad… he's just fine without one."

Shawn sighed. "I'll go. But I won't be happy about it."

×××

Eddie had experienced some uncomfortable dinners in his life, but nothing could compare to the one he was pretty much only at because it was his apartment and he shouldn't have to get lost just because Jack decided he needed to get to know his awful father.

"Hey, uh, can one of you kids pass the mashed potatoes?" Eddie had never seen someone angrily pass someone a bowl of mashed potatoes, but Stacy managed it. "Thanks." 

Shawn was sulkily stabbing his Salisbury steak over and over. "Why the fuck did I agree to this?"

"Watch your language, kiddo," Chet said, and Shawn squinted at him. 

"I'm a fucking adult. Asshole." 

"Sorry."

Jack sighed. "Shit, this was a bad idea. I'm sorry, guys."

Eddie picked up his plate. "I'm going to eat in my room."

"Eddie…"

"No, no, I should go." Chet took one last bite of his potatoes. "I'm sorry, kids. I'll try not to bother you anymore." 

He grabbed his plate, and carried it over to the sink.

He dropped it.

It shattered.

"Dad?"

Oh shit-

Chapter Text

Stacy hated hospitals. She hated the waiting. She hated not knowing if the person she was waiting on would actually live. And in this particular instance, she hated that she was actually hoping that he would.

Shawn was pacing the waiting room, the squeak of his boots on the tile ringing through the space. 

"Shawn, if you don't stop, I swear to God I'll put you in a hospital bed of your own," Eddie said. 

Shawn stopped. "Not funny," he said, his voice lowered. 

Eddie crossed his arms. "Not trying to be."

"Everyone calm down." Stacy tried to still her bouncing leg. "Chet Hunter isn't gonna let a heart attack be the end of him," she said, but she had a bad feeling in her chest.

"I'm still convinced you're the only person who has the power to kill him," Shawn said, clearly joking but his frown was still visible. He sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. "I need to take a walk. It's not doing me any good waiting in this white-wall liminal nightmare hellscape."

"Don't be too long," Stacy said. 

Shawn nodded before he left. 

It was soon after when Eddie left to smoke outside, and Jack left for the apartment so he could let Eric and Emily know what was going on. 

Stacy had been alone for ten minutes when the doctor told her she was allowed to see her father, he was awake. Of course it was right after everyone else left…

She took a deep breath before entering the room. 

Her father looked less like himself than he ever had. Even when he'd get blackout drunk and couldn't be moved off the couch, he looked better than he did right then.

"Hey, Stace," Chet said, clearly trying to keep his jovial disposition.

"Cut the bullshit, Chet," Stacy scoffed. "You knew you were dying, weren't you? That's what you meant yesterday and you lied."

"I had a feeling. My health's been shit for a few months now," he admitted. "But I'm here now."

"You came here just because you knew you were dying."

Chet sighed. "I wanted to apologize. I wanted to reconnect. It's been years since I've seen any of you."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "You just came here for Shawn."

"I did, but I lucked out that you were all here. I want to know you all again." God, she hated how earnest he sounded. "Catch me up on what I missed." 

Stacy crossed her arms. She didn't want to be there. "I got married."

"Really? You never seemed like the marrying type."

"You sure are. Look at you with your five hundred wives."

"It's just that you never even had a boyfriend in highschool."

"If I did, I wouldn't have told you. And I had a girlfriend. I have a wife." She watched her father's face closely for his reaction.

"Well, that figures. I really should've known you batted for the other team, if you catch my drift."

"What do you mean you should've known?"

"Look at you."

Stacy didn't bother looking down at herself, she knew she still wouldn't get it. "Shut up." She sat down in the chair next to his bed. "I hate you. I hate you so much for what you did to me and to Shawn and Eddie. To our mothers and to everyone else in your life." 

"Then why are you here?" 

Stacy looked up at the open doorway, where Jack was walking in. "Hey, Jack," she said.

"If you hate him so much, why are you here?"

"I don't know. He's my dad. I hate him, but I know I'll miss him if…" she looked back at her father. "Dad, why did you come back? Honestly."

"I wanted to see my family again, just in case."

Stacy bit back her tears. "Why couldn't you have just died anywhere else?"

Chet sighed. "I deserve that."

"I just wish you had come back with enough time to actually make amends. To be the father you should've been twenty-four years ago. But then again, if you had been a better father and husband, your first wife wouldn't have left you, and then the next three would have never given you Jack, Eddie, and Shawn." Stacy looked over at her brother. "And they're more important to me than you ever were."

"You remind me a lot of your mother," Chet said suddenly, and Stacy looked back at him so quickly it felt like whiplash.

"What?"

"It's good, I promise," he clarified. "I met her in an AA meeting, back when I went to those. She was such a smart woman, she needed to get sober, she really did. I had nothing going for me otherwise, maybe that's why I couldn't stick with it… But she was great. Had good humor, knew how to have a fun time, and she had that same curly hair you used to have." he looked at Stacy, who was staring with wide eyes. "Anyway, we hit it off, went on a few dates, got married, had you, and she left the second time I put my hands on her. The first time she just hit me back." Chet gave her a look, see what I mean?

Stacy looked down at her hands. "Why didn't she take me with her?" Selfish…

"I don't know, I really don't."

"Whatever." She prepared herself to go back into defensive mode.

"I'm sorry."

"For?" Stacy prompted.

"Hitting you. Neglecting you and the boys so you had to take care of them. Everything else. Just being a shitty father."

"Okay." She didn't forgive him, and she wasn't going to say she did. "Your turn," she said to Jack, before leaving. She spotted Eddie in the waiting room. "Have fun with that one," she said. "I have some people to call."

"I already called the Matthews and Jonathan," Eddie said. "And Eric told Nebbie and Topanga so they're on their way. Also that Feeny guy's coming, and Shawn's little girlfriend."

"A lot of people," Stacy muttered.

"They want to be here for us," Eddie said. "I'm gonna go be in there for Jack."

×××

Shawn wasn't really sure where he was walking to. 

Hospitals didn't make him uneasy in the same way they did for Stacy. But the lights were always too bright and the smell was weird and the white walls and shiny floors felt suffocating. The sounds always echoed just a little too much. He did have bad memories surrounding them as well, with the motorcycle accident and to a lesser extent the whole appendectomy thing as a kid. 

But Shawn was walking along the sidewalk, wondering how far he'd go before turning back. There was one fucked up part of him who hoped his father would've already kicked the bucket by the time he got back, so he wouldn't have to face him. 

The four siblings had called the ambulance and there was only enough room for one of them to go with, so Jack volunteered, and everyone else was fine with that. Stacy drove the rest of them.

Shawn really wanted Jon to be there, he wished he had thought to go upstairs for a moment or even call the apartment and see if he could meet them there. He figured someone else had called him and everyone else by now. The whole Greek chorus was probably waiting in the hospital now. 

And Shawn was walking. 

It was odd, how as a kid when he ran, it was always towards one thing: Cory's house. It was the one safe place he had. Now there was Cory's house, his sister's apartment, his brothers' apartment, his own apartment. Even school (although he didn't go there anymore) and work. 

And anyway, Shawn had no idea where he was going. Maybe that was a good metaphor. He patted his cargo pocket to make sure he had his pocket journal. He did.

Shawn finally stopped when it started to rain, just a light drizzle. He sat down on some steps in front of a building under an awning. He took out his journal, clicking the pen over and over as he tried to think of the words. 

He couldn't think of much.

I have no idea where I'm going

He clicked his pen again. 

I'm just wandering. But I, unlike what that Tolkien guy said, am totally lost.

He started just doodling stars in the corner of the page. Then he clicked his pen closed and shut his journal and put it in his pocket. He stood up, and caught his reflection in a window. 

He looked like a mess, and felt even more like one. 

He wondered what his father was like at his age. 

Shawn didn't know where he was going. So he headed back. 

Chapter Text

Eddie met Jack in the hospital room, intending on staying off to the side so his brother could have his moment. 

He felt bad for Jack, he really did. The poor guy was desperate to meet his father, he always was. Then he got his chance, and the asshole went and had a heart attack. 

"Eddie." Chet acknowledged Eddie's presence as soon as he was in the room.

Eddie crossed his arms. The man really did look like shit. Maybe it was karma, but he also didn't think heart attacks picked and chose who they were going to almost kill. 

"Hey, Chet."

"How you been, boy?"

"Better than you," Eddie bit. 

"Come on, man," Jack pleaded. "Civil, remember?"

"I am being civil."

Chet sighed. "Eddie, you've always been like a son to me."

Eddie squinted at him. "I need to know if you're joking right now."

"I am. Bad time?"

"There could be better ones." Eddie scratched his nose. "I'm gonna say this one thing and then let you and Jack talk, if that's okay?"

Jack nodded hesitantly. 

"Shawn and the rest of us- minus Jack- like to say that the best thing you did for him was give up custody so Jonathan could adopt him."

"I agree, honestly," Chet said.

"And I want to say that the best thing you did for me was let Mom take me, but she was even worse. Just in that, like… when I lived with you, I had Virn when she was around and not having one of her episodes, and Stace too. So yeah, I had to deal with you, but at least I had my siblings. When you let my mother decide I wasn't going to associate with the entire rest of my family, that ultimately ruined my life until I met Jack."

"Do you have a point, man?" Jack asked.

Eddie didn't look at his brother. "Just that I wish you had insisted I stay. Whatever that means to you. Whether it makes you feel better or worse about our relationship; I wish you had insisted I stay."

"I'm sorry, Eddie."

"Whatever. I hated that I was just like you."

"You're not," Chet insisted.

"I know," Eddie said. "And part of me wants to believe that you're not anymore. That you actually are trying to change. And another part of me believes that you just can't. That you had twenty-four years to be a good dad, so why would you start now?" He leaned against the wall. "Anyway, I've said my piece. Jack, you have the floor."

×××

Everyone started filing into the waiting room around the same time, including Shawn, who apparently had just finished walking his nerves off. He was surrounded by and talking to his friends as they sat down. 

Stacy stood up when she saw her wife, who immediately pulled her into a hug. 

"How are you holding up?" Nebbie whispered to her.

Stacy closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Nebula's conditioner. "I'm just tired. And angry." She pulled away and sat back down, Nebula sitting next to her.

"It's going to be okay," Alan said, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

"But what if he-" Stacy exhaled, feeling out of breath.

"Then we'll be beside you," Amy assured her. "We know this is difficult for you and the boys, so if you need anything-"

"The last thing you guys need is to worry about us," Stacy said. "You need to focus on preparing for the baby."

"The baby's not due until August," Amy said. "We can offer you emotional support, at least."

"Thanks, guys."

Stacy spotted Jonathan talking to Eric, and she walked over. "Jon, I-"

"Stace, how are you holding up?"

Stacy laughed weakly, since Neb had just asked that exact thing. "Tired and angry," she said. "Listen, I need you to know, all of this stuff happening doesn't change that I still see you as my dad. He's just… I don't know."

"It's okay to feel conflicted," Jon said. 

"Yeah…"

"Where's Jack?" Eric asked. 

"He's talking to Chet right now. I just got done."

"For now?"

Stacy shrugged. "I don't know. I don't…" She looked around at everyone in the room. "I need air." 

She pushed in between Eric and Jonathan to get out the door, and as soon as she was out in the hallway, Stacy leaned back against the wall, pushing her hair out of her face. She was starting to feel that need to run, to get away from everything, but she knew she had to be there for her brothers.

She let her head fall back against the wall. She hated hospitals.

×××

Jack wished he could say that he didn't believe the words said by Eddie or Stacy, but he knew better. He needed to accept it: his father was not a good person. In fact, he had accepted it, until he actually met the guy. 

Before, he didn't have a chance at a relationship with his father. He knew that. In his head, he knew the kind of person Chet was. He could only imagine the hardships his siblings went through while living with him, and Jack didn't even have a face to put with the name. 

Now he had seen his father's face. He saw the eyes that he and his siblings shared. Jack wanted nothing more than to know this man. To have just one civil conversation with him before… if he never got to see him again. 

"My siblings are all under the impression I should hate you," Jack said, and Chet just sighed.

"They're right."

Jack sighed too. "As a kid, I always wished I could have been raised by you. In my mind, you were my biological father so you were obligated to like me."

"Your rich step-daddy don't treat you nicely?"

Jack shook his head. "He hates me. Always has. I don't know how my mother could marry someone who hated her own child. Maybe she hated me too, because she couldn't look at me without seeing parts of you."

"Jack, boy, if I get outta this bed, you and me are going to have some father-son bonding time, and that's a promise."

Jack smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"So, catch me up on everything I missed," Chet said, getting back his more jovial disposition. "Everything you want me to know about you."

"I'm going to Pennbrooke University."

"Well how about that… A Hunter boy in college."

"It's not that far out of the realm of possibility," Eddie said. "Stacy went to college and is a teacher. Shawn got accepted into Pennbrooke too."

"And how about you?" Chet asked.

Eddie looked down at his boots. "I'm, uh… I own a business. Half of one, at least. With Alan Matthews."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Jack watched as Eddie sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, thanks," Eddie said shortly. 

×××

When Jack and Eddie went back into the waiting room, Shawn sighed and looked over at Stacy, who had just come back from the hall.

"My turn, huh?" Shawn asked.

"You don't have to," Stacy said.

"I know. But I should." He stood up and felt the squeeze of his girlfriend's hand in his. 

"Good luck," Angela said. 

"We'll be here for you as soon as you're done," Cory added. 

"Thanks."

His father really did look bad, that was Shawn's first thought as he went into the hospital room. 

Shawn looked around the room, his hand in his pocket, and the other picked up a magazine laying at the foot of the bed. 

"You always were my favorite," Chet said suddenly, and Shawn just closed his eyes and exhaled. 

"Don't do that."

"Do…?"

"Don't act like you were some prize winning father to me. You hit me too, you neglected me, you abandoned me time and time again and I just…" Shawn scoffed and sat down on the chair next to the bed. "I don't understand why. What did I do wrong? What could any of us have done different for you to treat us well?"

"It wasn't you, Shawnie. It wasn't any of you, I promise," Chet said. 

Shawn crossed his arms. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Who's my mother?"

Chet looked confused for a moment. "Virna? Damn, it's been a hot minute since I've seen her."

"I mean my real mother. Biologically?"

Realization dawned on his father's face. "Oh. I forgot about that," he admitted. "She was, uh… she was a stripper."

"Fuck…"

"If it makes you feel any better, you don't look nothing like her."

Shawn laughed despite himself. "I know. Me and Stace took after Grandma Gertie."

Talk about family and who takes after who was kinda a sore subject in Shawn's mind. He didn't want to be like anyone in his family, not really. He was his own person, though he didn't know who that person was. He always used to say he didn't know who he was, but frankly he didn't even know what it meant to know who he was. Part of him was worried that he was just like his father. Sure, he finally broke his cycle of dating a new girl every time he got bored of the old one, but what if it was temporary? What if he really was just another version of his father?

"Hey, Dad?" 

Chet hummed. "Yeah, boy?"

"Who are you?"

His father looked annoyed. "That's the stupidest question-"

Shawn scoffed. "Whatever. Figures you wouldn't understand."

Chet sighed. "Alright. What do you mean?"

"Sometimes people say they don't know who they are. I don't even know what it means, knowing who you are. Who are you?"

"A bad man and a worse father," Chet said with a phony laugh. "Someone who sure as hell don't deserve your forgiveness, no matter how much I want it. And how much I know I won't get it 'fore I go." 

Shawn looked down at his hands, his vision blurring from the tears threatening to leave his eyes. "You really fucked us up, Dad."

"I know. And I'm sorry." Chet sighed.

"I don't feel like I'm my own person, sometimes. I keep looking in the mirror and seeing you looking back. I'm just another version of you," Shawn said, the tears finally spilling over. "I'm so, so screwed up, Dad. We all are. I feel like there's this hole in me, like I'm just… empty. Like you or mom were supposed to give me something to fill it and you just couldn't be bothered." He stood up, and realized his legs were so shaky, he had to pace or he'd fall over. "And every time I would try to fill it myself, it wouldn't stick. I still needed something, anything from you. But I was getting over it, slowly. And I was feeling better. I was feeling fine, until you showed back up."

Chet had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, Shawnie."

"I hate you."

"You have every right to."

"But I'm thankful for one thing."

"Yeah?"

"You leaving me with Jon, giving up custody, that was the best thing you ever did for me." Shawn took a shaking breath. "Have a nice rest of your life."

He was halfway out the door when he hea

rd the beeping. He turned around right as the doctors were rushing in, pushing him out the door. 

Oh God. 

Chapter Text

Shawn was pacing the room again, and this time, Eddie didn't bother telling him off.

What felt like an eternity had only been five minutes, and Shawn was trying so hard to block out the noises coming from the room. 

"It's fine, he's fine," he was saying over the continuous squeaking of his boots on the linoleum floor. "It's gonna be fine." He suddenly stopped and sat down on one of the side tables. "He's not gonna make it, is he?"

"Why do you want him to live so badly?" Emily asked. "I thought you guys hated him."

"It's complicated," Stacy said. 

"He's still our father," Shawn said a little pathetically. "Even if he is a shitty one."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I couldn't care less," he said. "Only thing he ever gave me was you guys, and even that was iffy sometimes."

"I'm getting tired of your cynicism," Jack muttered, and Eddie didn't respond. 

In fact nobody said anything else for the next three minutes. 

Then the doctor walked out of the room. 

"Fuck-" Stacy muttered under her breath.

"Shit," Eddie said dryly. 

"Oh no," Jack whispered.

Shawn struggled to swallow. "Dad?"

×××

Jack didn't have time to think before he felt two comforting arms wrapped around him, and he breathed in the scent of his and Eric's shared laundry detergent. He closed his eyes, and figured if he kept them closed, he wouldn't have to face the reality. 

He heard the faint sounds of Stacy talking to the doctor, because leave it to Stacy to take care of everything. But Jack didn't care, he didn't want to believe what was happening. 

Jack opened his eyes to look at everyone around him. Stacy was still talking with the doctor, Nebula holding her left hand tightly, and the two oldest Matthews at her right. Shawn was sitting with his head in his hands, Cory and Topanga and Angela sitting around him, offering comforting touches. And Eddie was standing off to the side, brushing off the comfort attempt from Jon. 

Jon approached Stacy and told her to go sit down, let him and the Matthews take care of it. Stacy took a deep shaking breath and agreed, letting Nebula lead her to a chair. She was picking at her fingernails, seeming completely zoned out. 

Then Stacy suddenly stood up, saying she needed to leave. She always did hate hospitals. 

×××

Shawn followed Stacy out of the room, apparently. She leaned against the wall and he leaned next to her, looking so small, so lost, so scared with his tear streaked face. Looking at her surroundings, Stacy was brought back to being barely fifteen years old, her little brother crying in pain and she had no idea what to do. 

She wanted to say she was sorry, but knew that wouldn't do any good. Shawn would insist she had nothing to apologize for. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling that maybe if she had done something different, if she hadn't left, if she hadn't whatever, then maybe they wouldn't both be standing there right then. 

But that didn't really make any sense to the logical part of Stacy's brain. So she didn't say sorry. 

Shawn held her hand like he always did as a kid, and leaned against her shoulder. 

He said he was sorry, and Stacy wasn't sure why. He has nothing to apologize for. 

×××

Shawn was half convinced this was his fault. That if he had just put on a brave face and a cheery-er disposition, their father would have recovered from the heart attack and everything would be fine. 

But he was gone now. 

Gone. 

It felt strange for Shawn to get so caught up on. His father was always gone. Shawn sorta accepted when he was fifteen and looking at the signed adoption papers that he would never see Chet Hunter again. But the universe gave him a second chance, it seemed. 

And the universe took it away. 

Shawn half wondered if he'd feel any better if Chet had died a thousand miles away. If he was gone and Shawn and his siblings didn't hear about it until after the fact. 

Or maybe it would be worse. 

×××

Eddie wasn't crying. 

He stood with his arms crossed and looked at each of his friends and family members.

He wasn't going to cry. 

He didn't care.