Behind Classroom Doors II

CXII- Christmas With the Morgan's Part Two

Shawn's P.O.V.

I'm halfway home on foot when I hear someone jogging behind me. I already know it's Jack. He followed me once when I was jogging, I know how heavy his feet sound against the pavement. "Don't you think you've done enough stalking?" I ask once he's in ear shot.

He comes up beside me before slowing his jog to a walk. "I resent that." He says, breathing heavy. "I was just trying to get to know you."

I glance over at Jack. "Look, I can appreciate you wanting to find your family or whatever but it's not with us. My brother died, a very horrible death, but we've moved on."

"Livia doesn't think you've moved on at all. Are you still having nightmares?"

Before I can even think about what I'm doing, my fist curls up and I swing my arm, punching him in the nose. Jack groans and holds his nose, "I don't know what Livia told you or why but it wasn't her place. It sure as hell isn't yours." I turn around and continue walking.

Jack falters behind a little, but continues walking behind me. The fact that he hasn't given up yet makes me even angier. "Okay I overstepped, I get it." His muffled voice pricks my ears, "Look, I have the nightmares too." I stop, turning to him. "I thought it was just a bad dream but...now I know it's real."

I don't answer him, I don't owe him anything so I keep walking. Ten minutes later, I make it to my house. "You can come in and grab your stuff, but then I want you out. If I ever see you near me or my mom again, I'll give you a lot more than a bloody nose." I warn him, opening the door for him to get inside.

I close it behind the both of us and make it to the kitchen to find anything with alcohol in it. I hear Jack go upstairs and pray I never have to see his face again. When I locate an old bottle of vodka I cringe but open it up. Vodka hits me fast and hard but that's exactly what I need right now. I drink it straight from the bottle, gagging at the burning aftertaste that lingers.

"Maybe drinking isn't the right idea. You're pretty pissed off." Jack says as he walks in the kitchen, his suitcase beside him, and a folder in his hand. I look him in the eyes as I take another drink from the bottle. I guess God isn't on my side tonight.

I set it down after that, needing a minute. "What are you, my big brother?" I chuckle humorlessly to myself, feeling more angry at the audacity of this stranger in front of me.

Jack sighs, opening the folder in his hand and laying it on the counter in front of me. "Those are my adoption and hospital records. I went in unconscious, with a head wound and smoke in my lungs. When I woke up, I didn't know who I was. I was there for days, unclaimed, a John Doe. Then Emily Briers saw me in the hospital and saw an opportunity. Adopting a baby takes years and I was just there, with no memory of who I was."

"I don't want your sob story." I spit, unable to control my inhabited thoughts.

Jack continues anyway, "For as long as I can remember I had nightmares of an apartment I was in burning up with fire. It always ends with a beam falling on me, and then I wake up. Recently, I've remembered other things. But instead of them being with my family, it's with yours. I remember that convention, Dianne and Henry telling you and me to get close for the picture."

"Stop it." I say, knowing there's no way he's Gage.

Jack takes a step closer to me. "I remember the trips we used to take. The way me and you played stupid car games in the back seat. Dianne's self-improvement CD's, Henry's road map that he used to hand me to read." He pauses before continuing, "Those are just the little things. I know you were only nine but come on, don't you remember anything?"