Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He never asked questions, not just about Shawn, but about any kid.

Okay maybe just Shawn.

Shawn came to school reeking of pot, or sometimes it was weed, whatever, dealers' choice. That proved nothing, he didn’t think Shawn smoked, he knew, or- he hoped that he didn’t. It was just the people around him. Probably.

He didn’t ask about it.

Sometimes he’d come to school with injuries, claimed to be from fights. That proved nothing, he can’t justify saying that it wasn’t just Shawn getting into fights. He knows Shawn fights, breaks them up at least two times a week.

He didn’t ask about it.

Shawn always hit more than he got hit, but the injuries were brutal. Too brutal for a guy who never gets hit more than five times and never too hard. So how did the injuries happen? 

He knew, he couldn’t prove anything but he knew. 

Locker checks, super standard. So what if he started with Shawn's locker and ended on Shawn's locker. Really, he just went through Shawns locker. He found beer. 

Beer in a child's locker.
He had to ask about it.

He didn’t report it to anyone, he just took it out of the locker and left a frowny face note telling Shawn to meet him after school. Shawn didn’t show up. 

He made a serious note to talk to Shawn about it, but in a desperate attempt to get through to him, he rewrote his lesson plan on crime and punishment a little. 

—

“Now, what does Dostoevsky” tell us about Alcoholism?” He addresses the class. Looking over each of the kids, resting on Shawn. “Miss Lawrence?” “He says that there are only cons and no pros, it exposes the user as soft bellied and weak. He argues that it is a disease” She repeats as if reading off of a teleprompter in her brain. Lowering her hand and preening. 

“Any counter arguments?” he suggests, looking around. Nobody raises their hand. Shawn rolls his eyes as Jon speaks “Okay Shawn, since you clearly don’t approve of the argument, what’s your opinion… doesn’t have to be on the books view of it, this is an open discussion.”

“Well I think that the view on alcohol is unfounded, there are benefits, Fry-dor or whatever the hell his first name is, he’s just some prude” Shawn scoffs. Jon nods slowly, clasping his hands together. “What do you think the benefits of alcoholism are then?” He prompts.

“I think that it’s not that bad. Yeah it’s shitty if you can’t control yourself, but if you feel shitty all the time and it makes you feel good… why would you not want to feel good?” Jesus, well that’s not concerning at all! “But the book shows us why, Marmeladov loses everything . He represents the total end, everything is over because he has lost it. He lost his wife, he lost his kids. That’s why you shouldn’t become an alcoholic, because you’ll lose it all” Jon choses to ignore the language Shawn was using.

“But if you have nothing to lose then what! If your argument is true then there is no reason that somebody with nothing to lose shouldn’t become an alcoholic.” Jon studies Shawns face, sighing “Hunter, your argument has no way to support itself. You tried arguing the pros of alcoholism, but you didn’t. You argued the pros of alcohol. And your rebuttal refutes my point if I’m going to be generous, but it doesn’t support yours” Jon says, trying not to seem too aggressive in the way he counters Shawn.

Everyone is looking at them now. 

“What’s good about being an alcoholic, not what’s good about drinking, just what’s good about being an alcoholic.” Jon says, firmer now “I- I don’t know, you get to feel that good all the time?” Jon stops, stepping forward and stopping when he’s infront of Shawns desk. “That’s not how it works Shawn, it fries a part of your brain, too much too often and your brain fizzles, you won’t feel as good as you first felt, and you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing your first high” He says, staring down at him solemnly. 

The class watches, spellbound. “You were the one who went through my locker” Shawn says lowly, trying not to attract more attention, at least he doesn’t want people to know. “The school does routine locker checks on students” He states, lowering the volume of his voice a little. 

“Now, Marmeladov is presented as the absolute, he is the end. Shawn presented the idea that alcohol isn’t bad, which is correct. When you are of legal age and your body is therefore ready to take in alcohol, there is nothing wrong with drinking in healthy amounts. As a teacher I should be telling you that alcohol is bad, and it is when you’re too young. But when you’re adults, you should try to have healthy relationships with drinking. Crime and punishment says that the drinker is not bad, they are weak, and alcohol takes advantage of them” Jon continues on, walking away from Shawn's desk back to his own.

Shawn is avoiding eye contact, okay so he for sure knows this is about him. At this point how could he not. “And now we’ll do a er- a pop quiz” The class groans and whines “booooo, urrghh,” He mocks “yahknow I don’t get why you guys complain all the time, this isn’t a surprise pop quiz, I told you about this a week ago!” 

—

Shawns quiz comes with a sticky note that says ‘meet me after class’ with Jons best doodle of himself doing a slightly disappointed frowny face.

Shawn hands his quiz back in with a scribbled drawing of himself, Jon has a sneaking suspicion that doodle-Shawn is trying to flip doodle-Jon off but Shawns drawing skills aren’t quite clear enough to tell him if that’s for sure what’s going on.

“Class dismissed” Jon calls a while later. Face the board while students flit out. He stays still before realising that Shawn would try to sneak out with everyone else. He darts around the desk, grabbing Shawn by the scruff of his jacket “Where do you think you’re going champ?” He says dryly. “To go check my locker for stuff you nabbed!” Shawn defends, kicking and struggling a little before he goes limp in the air. “Now put me down!” He grumbles.

Jon sets him down, on the ground hesitantly. “Don’t run, now Hunter, you know what the school found in your locker, don’tcha?” He sighs, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. “I stand by my right of denial” “You don’t have the right of denial kid” Jon scoffs, leaning more of his weight against the desk and watching Shawn squirm a little. “Right of refusal?” Shawn pleads, “Nope” Jon says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I want to speak to a lawyer,” Shawn pouts slightly, biting his already bruised lip. “Too bad, you’re speaking with me and you’re speaking with me now” Jon says while climbing onto his desk, sitting cross-legged and looking at him seriously. 

“You’re drinking” He says matter of factly, “You can’t prove I was”, Shawn retaliates. “Shawn. I can’t prove it but I know it, and I haven’t taken it to the school yet although god knows I should” It seems to set in for a minute or two, Shawn looks up at him silently. “Why haven’t you then.” He whispers, sounding ridgid.

“Because I want to help you, getting detention for two months wouldn’t help. You need someone who can support you!” Shawn rolls his eyes at Jon but says nothing “Shawn. Where did you get the beer from” He says sternly but not unfeelingly, leaning forward slightly “I don’t know!” Shawn hastily defends. Far too hasty. 

“You do know. Where did you get the beer from” Shawn shifts and squirms a little “...nicked it from someone at the trailer part” Shawn mumbles. Jon stiffens slightly. “Okay, okay… Shawn, you know you’re safe with me, don’t you? You can always come to me, and- and talk to me about anything . I’m not here to snitch, I just- I want to make you feel safe.”

Shawn hums, “I’m going to be late to my next class” “I’ll write you a late slip” Jon says, not moving to write the slip, just deflecting Shawns comment, staring at him. “Okay, fine, cool, I’ll talk to you” Shawn concedes “Now?” Jon says hopefully, although he knows it’s not realistic. “I have class” “You’ve never cared about class”

Shawn steps forward, puffing his chest out little and glaring. “I’m going to class, write me that late slip or I’ll just take the tardy, hell I’ll take the absence and just not show up” Jon gets up from the desk, glaring at Shawn. Shawn doesn’t back down.

Jon writes the slip and slaps it into Shawns outstretched hand. “Show up to class. Please, just- keep talking to me. Don’t shut people out if you need help.”

Shawn stomps out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Fuck.

—

It had been a few days, he tried to talk to Shawn whatever chance he got but he protested and put up enough of a fight that he let it go. 

Shawn smelt worse then he normally would. He couldn’t have been the only one who noticed. He had been wearing the same clothes, switching things just slightly. He had his leather jacket and a denim one, he had his striped shirt and a white gym shirt. Same pair of jeans.

He switched up the combinations enough that nobody seemed to have noticed that he was wearing the same sweat drenched clothes on repeat. Shawn drenched himself in cologne and deodorant to try to ward off the smell.

When he next dismisses class he grabs Shawn by the scruff of his jacket “You smell bad” He says plainly. “You’re not exactly a bunch of flowers yourself” Shawn snarks. “When did you last shower” “Whenever I last had gym” Jon reels back. Jesus.

“And why exactly are you trying to repel insects and girls?” Jon drawls sarcastically. Shawn crosses his arms and kicks a little, still suspended in the air. “Waters out in the trailer” Shawn says after a few seconds of squirming. “Couldn’tcha shower in someone else's trailer?” “Yeah and have them stab me while I’m very naked!” Shawn defends.

Jon hums, looking up at the ceiling and frowning. He’s going to regret this.

“Why don’t you come down to my place, you can shower there. And if your waters out I’m assuming your laundry is as well which is why you’re wearing the same clothes. So you can do laundry and shower.” he grumbles “Yeah right” Shawn scoffs, rolling his eyes and doing little leg kicks “Like you’re going to tell me where you live”

Jon sighs loudly, “The apartment building on sixth street,  the fourth floor, apartment twenty seven”. Shawn stiffens, looking up at him hesitantly. “And that’s your actual apartment?” Shawn questions. “Regrettably, yes” Jon grumbles “now do you want me to give you a ride to my place after school or will you get there on your own time?”

“Wait, you mean ride your motorcycle?” Shawn asks curiously, his face lighting up for the first time in a while. “Well I don’t have any other way to get you home unless you wanted to take the bus” Jon rolls his eyes, chuckling affectionately.

“Could I drive?” “Hell no” Jon scoffs instantly. “Well then I’ll figure it out myself, don’t wait up for me to show” Shawn seems to stew it over for a little, giving a few more feeble kicks. “Now put me down!”

—

Shawn shows up to his apartment a few days later. Dragging his feet and walking in  silently with nothing but a groan “Well nice to see you too” Shawn stops and glares at Jon. “You need me to show you where the shower is?” He offers, not getting up from where he was sat on the couch “I was just planning on snooping around to be honest” Jon rolls his eyes, pointing towards the door without looking up from the paper in his hand he was marking.

“You can use the blue towel” He calls as Shawn shuffles into the bathroom.

—

He comes out a while later, smelling distantly of sandalwood and pine. Towelling his hair aggressively in ratty gym shorts and a dirtied undershirt. “You know how to do your own laundry Hunter?” Shawn seems to shift for a few seconds “Uh- put the clothes in the machine, put soap in with them, and then they’re done, hang them on the line?” Shawn attempts. He’d helped his mother out at the trailer park often enough, but his job was usually to hang and peg clothes onto the line.

He wasn’t allowed to touch the soap, he’d make it dirty.

Jon looks up at him for a few seconds, hesitating before getting up “I’ll help you out bud, if you’re comfortable then you could change into something else or you could at least take your overshirt off so we’re able to wash as much of your stuff as possible.” Shawn frowns “I don’t have anything else that’s not in my bag.” “Well we’ll just do multiple loads then”

“Where’s your washing line?” Shawn questions, looking around as if there’s one secretly stored somewhere. “Don’t have one, I just have a washer-dryer” “Well aren’t you fancy” Jon chooses not to raise his eyebrows. “Just do what you want, I’ll show you how to use it so if you need to use it again you’ll be able to.” Shawn frowns, “Okay… I mean I won’t need it do laundry at your place again but fine”. 

He shows Shawn how to use the washer-dryer.

It’s weird, Shawn is so transfixed on it, drinking in the motion of his clothes being tossed arooouund and arouuund. “Won’t your clothes and my clothes being mixed together in the same load make them dirty?” Jon does a double take before deciding to just answer genuinely. “No Shawn, they both get cleaned together. And if that’s something you’re worried about you’ll have to suck it up because I will not be doing a load of laundry just to wash like four things” 

Shawn nods seriously “Mm.. can I just sit here and watch it?” Jon pats him on the back “Sure kid, do you wanna do your homework infront of it so it maybe gets done for once?” He suggests. Shawns work is good, but only when it’s actually handed in. “I don’t wanna, I wanna sit infront of the washer” Shawn frowns, settling infront of the machine and watching with a childlike fascination. 

Weird. “Well- how about you finish the assignment for my class infront of the washing machine, you can take as long as you want, but it need to be halfway done in an hour or I’m revoking your washing machine privileges” Shawn seems to mull it over for a minute before nodding. “Do you have a spare copy? I don’t have mine and there wasn’t anything on it but a dick drawing anyways”

Jon scoffs, but leaves to go get a spare copy of the assignment. He comes back a few minutes later and Shawn is pressed to the cool tile floor, his cheek plastered to it. Laying on his side, the pattern made indents in his weak skin, turning it an easy red where grooves were pressed into it. He looks peaceful. 

“Shawn, hows the homework coming huh?” He looks up, his work is scattered over the tile, his pencil is held loosely in his hand. “I did it, I dunno if it’s good but I finished like ten minutes ago” Jon raises an eyebrow. “You realise if you worked like this in class you wouldn’t have to do nearly as much homework” Shawn rolls over on the ground. “What?” “You only have so much of it because you don’t do any work in class, you just sleep or talk to Cory”

Shawn mulls it over “I guess? I can do it at home”. “But you don’t want to do work at home” Jon says dryly. “Well that’s a me at school problem” “you at school is asleep !” Shawn rolls around on the floor in lieu of an answer. He picks up the loose papers, glancing over them “Shawn… this is good work”. And from his general overview, it actually is. His handwriting is messy and needs work, the ideas are clearly valid but often lack explanation and cross the line of being vague with no evidence. 

But the actual ideas… they’re good. Shawn clearly knows his stuff, he just doesn’t know how to word it. “Wait really?” Shawn looks up “Like it’s passable?” He looks bewildered, although his work was very rarely passable so it was an unusual occurrence. “I mean, it needs serious refinement and all of it is one huge sentence. But your ideas are good, poorly explained, but good.” 

Jon sits down on the cool tile floor. “Shawn, with some tutoring, your work would be easily deserving of an A” He fiddles with the papers in his hands, looking closer into some of the contents “Did you like the book?” He asks. He hadn’t really thought it’d be Shawns thing, he always did better on the assignments on comic books then he did on the ones on actual novels. 

“Yeah well, I thought the photo on the cover was cool” That makes a lot more sense. 

“What did you think about the arguments made about judaism?” He probes, trying to push something deeper out of Shawn. “I didn’t really think it was about judaism, I mean yeah they were all jewish and it impacted everything, but I figured the main point was on the sons and their fathers” Jon hums, nodding slightly. 

“If you talk to me about it after your clothes are done, I’ll buy takeout and you can have some” Jon suggests, Shawn rolls over onto his back. “Fine, but I get to order whatever the hell I want” He relents.

—

Shawn eats like a wild animal starved for too long and ravenous to prey on something barely dead. “Bud, nobodys going to take the food away from you, and as is only half of it is actually making it into your mouth. Can you ever taste it?” 

Shawn looks up bewildered. “M just hungry” he shrugs, but he eats slower, eating his fries one at a time instead of shoving handfuls in his mouth. “So, the chosen, fathers and sons, what’s up with that” Shawn rolls his eyes, eating a few more fries and chewing slowly “Well one pair is realistic and the other ‘snt. I mean, I dunno much about being jewish, but I do have a dad.”

Jon squints at him “Go on? I mean there are two pairs of fathers and sons in the book, which one is realistic and which pair isn’t.” Shawn licks some salt off of his fingers, processing slowly. “I mean, Revenue or whatever the hell his name was, I mean- how do you pronounce that, whatever, he and his dad weren’t realistic. His dad was just always perfect and nice to him, I mean sure, Danny's dad was kind of a dick sometimes, but he was just like all dads are. Except that he was jewish as well.” 

Jesus. That’s a lot. 

The chosen focuses on the relationships between two pairs of fathers and sons. Reuven’s father was a kind man who, after the holocaust, became dedicated to establishing a jewish nation. Danny's father raised him in total silence, he’d perform public humiliation rituals on his son in the name of religion, while he loved his son, he was abusive in his own way. 

He can’t ask further questions.

“Okay, cool, well your clothes should be ready to come out of the dryer, so you can put those in and wash the ones you’re wearing. If you want, you can work on your paper while you eat or you can work on it when you’re done. And if not you can finish your paper when you’re done your food”

It’s weirdly domestic, Shawn sits at the kitchen island, pouring over his work. Jon marks some quizzes at the table, his pen scratches at a faster pace than Shawns pencil scritches. He can hear Shawn humming along to whatever comes into his head. Occasionally Shawn will eat some of the last bites of his meal.

He can’t ask questions.

And he can’t imagine what it’d be like if Shawn would say goodnight after a while. Cleaned his teeth in the bathroom, maybe watched a show with him on the couch before he tucks Shawn into bed. 

Or, more accurately, he can entirely imagine it.
But he can’t let himself. 

It’s a weird idea. Shawn is his student . Not his son.

— 

Shawns clothes finish drying, he gets most of his paper done. He goes home, somewhere that is most notably not Jons apartment.

It was a weird moment, yeah, but he’s okay with it. He won’t do it again.

Whatever was happening with Shawn's personal life clears up. After a few days he has his normal clothes again and he doesn’t smell terrible. He still smells like a teenage boy, which is pretty shitty and then drenched in cologne.

Shawn hands in his paper on the chosen and it’s good . The first a plus he’s ever earnt in english, although there are many warning signs about how he views father son dynamics, it’s good . Jon looks over his lesson plans and talks to Feeny a little.

His lesson plan changed, the next book they’ll read is ‘Night’ by Elie Wisel. 

Another book about judaism, the holocaust, and father son relationships. 

Maybe Shawn would submit another good paper.

And yeah his eyes don’t light up when he sees the cover, they do light up when he sees how short the book is.

— 

He doesn’t ask questions anymore.

Ever.

—

Shawn shows up on his doorstep, he’s relieved even if it’s not a good time for him to be there. But Shawn is safe and Shawn is here . He’s not going to ask questions about it.

And then there’s a cop.
And he should probably ask questions.

—

He sends Katherine away. She’s nice, he likes nice. He doesn’t love it.

Shawn tries to follow her but he stops him, closing the door and setting him down on the couch. “Well how come she gets to go!” Shawn protests, frowning as he crosses his arms. Jon glares “because I still got something to say to you!” He spits out. He knows he’s angry, he knows this is a bad idea.

“A little girl who fell down a blowhole? Woow” He says sarcastically. Leaning forward, closer to Shawn, and he sees Shawn flinch back a little when he gets too close. A small reminder that he is bigger and stronger than Shawn in a fairly tight space where he is cornered. 

He’s not going to question why that made Shawn flinch. 

“Thanks for covering for me man, Cory's parents would have freaked! ” Shawn grins, getting up to go again. Jon blocks his way out “Oh like this!? Would they have yelled at you like this!” He near shouts, not quite there yet. He doesn’t notice the way Shawn recoils and sets himself rigidly as he shouts. “Yeah that’s- that’s pretty good” Shawn chuckles, but he’s still tense.

Jon softens slightly. “Would they have told you how stupid you are for being out so late!” Shawn seems to wilt. “Okay, I get your point” He tries to joke, his head twitches as he rolls his shoulders. “No I don’t think you do!” Jon shouts. Getting increasingly louder and louder

He might get noise complaints. 

“Shawn, that was stupid, you are acting stupid. Do you expect me to believe that you weren’t about to vandalise that place?” Shawn shrugs awkwardly “Well- yeah?” Jon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shawn, there is spray paint on the back of your jacket.” He deadpans, watching Shawn turn around awkwardly, trying to see it. Looking almost like a dog trying to chase its own tail. 

“Okay, I’m mad, I’m really mad at you right now Shawn. But I also want you to be safe and happy.” Jon sighs, trying to cool himself down. He shouldn’t yell at Shawn, or else he’ll jump out the window. Shawn shifts his weight a little, biting his lip and frowning. “I said I thought you were in your room. Now go to your room.” 

Shawn looks up from where he was fixed on the floor. “I- I don’t have a room”. What the hell was he doing? “I have a guest room, I’ll set you up there for the night and we can talk in the morning. Okay? Don’t think of running, if you do I’ll see you at school and I will drag you out of the classroom to detention by the back of your spray painted jacket in front of everyone.” Shawn pales, nodding stiffly.

—

Shawn sinks into bed with such an ease. He’s almost half asleep as soon as he walks into the room. Not bothering to listen to anything before he gets into bed, fully clothed, shoes still on, tucking the sheets over him. Jon turns to him, half smiling “Take your clothes off you heathen” He protests half heartedly.

Shawn kicks his stompers off, groaning and turning over in bed. “That paint could still be wet Shawn, jacket off”. He groans louder, wrestling the jacket off and throwing it at Jon. He hangs the jacket up carefully. “...goodnight kid” He whispers, ruffling Shawn's hair and slipping out of the room.

Don’t ask questions.