The Way Home: Chapter Four

Title: The Way Home
A Shelter Fanfic
Author: Jessica (sam_cdn )
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This story opens a little over two months after Shaun, Zach, and Cody have moved to Valencia. This will be a multi-chaptered story, telling the tale of what happens next. There will be plenty of happiness, sappiness, and general domestic bliss. There will be some hotness and some smuttiness. There will also be some angst, some anger, some sadness, and some pain. There will be some attempts at humor, but I'm not promising you'll laugh. Hold on tight, I've got a lot of story to tell!
Feedback: Always welcomed and encouraged!
Disclaimer: I do not own and did not create the film Shelter. I am making no profit off of this.

By the time his shift ended, Zach could not wait to go back to the apartment, and disappear into the painting he was currently working on. Cody would be home two hours later, Zach would play with him while Shaun cooked dinner, and then the three of them would have a relaxing evening. It sounded like heaven to Zach.

 

He arrived home to an empty apartment and a note from Shaun: Went to a flea market with Anna. We’ll pick up Cody on our way back. Love, Shaun.

 

As much as Zach had been looking forward to Shaun’s Welcome Home kiss, and the chance to vent his day’s frustrations, Zach was happy to have some silence and solitude. He could fully immerse himself into his artwork, forget entirely about the day he had had.

 

He made a pot of coffee, and started setting up the materials he needed in the small nook off of the living room where he did his artwork. He was walking from the kitchen to the nook with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand when his phone rang. He set his mug down on the coffee table, sat on the couch, and answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, is this Mr. Zachary Sharpe?”

 

“Yeah, uh, who’s this?”

 

“This is Robin Fielding—I’m the secretary at Redwood Elementary, and I’m calling on behalf of Cody’s teacher, Larissa Canary. You’re Cody’s legal guardian, is that correct?”

 

Zach’s entire body tensed. “Yes, yes I am. What’s wrong? Did something happen?” A million scenarios flew through his mind. Cody hurt, Cody sick, Cody missing, and all the many terrible ways these things could happen.

 

“It’s nothing to be concerned about, sir, Cody is fine. He just got into a bit of trouble today.”

 

“Really?” After the rushing feeling relief at realizing that Cody was not in danger, Zach was confused. His Cody? In trouble? Cody was the best kid he knew—he couldn’t imagine him causing any kind of problem.

 

“Yes, well, it seems he was caught drawing on one of the classroom tables, and he was quite resistant when he was told that he wasn’t allowed to do that.”

 

“What do you mean, resistant? What happened? Did he—”

 

“Actually, sir, I don’t know the details. What I’ve told you is all Miss Canary told me. I’m just calling because Miss Canary would like to set up a meeting with you. Is there an evening this week when you’re available?”

 

“A meeting? Is there—I mean, does she think there’s something wrong with Cody or something?” All Zach could think was two and a half months in, and he had already failed as a parent. Cody had gone from perfect, angelic little boy to child-terror, all in the short time that Zach had been the primary caregiver in his life. Him and Shaun. He suddenly heard Jeanne’s voice, saying, “Do you really think that’s a good upbringing for Cody?” Maybe she had been right all along.

 

“As I said, Mr. Sharpe,” Ms. Fielding was saying, “I don’t know the details of what happened. But I’m certain it’s nothing to be concerned about. Parent-teacher interviews are quite routine.”

 

“Oh.” Had his parents ever met with one of his teachers? Zach couldn’t remember. He had been a quiet child—much quieter than Cody—and had rarely gotten into any trouble.

 

“So, what night is most convenient for you?”

 

“Oh. Um, well, Wednesday? I work tomorrow night.”

 

“All right. How’s Wednesday at seven o’clock?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Excellent. The meeting will be here at the school, in Miss Canary’s room. That’s room 1-A.”

 

“All right.”

 

“Thank-you, Mr. Sharpe. Have yourself a good evening.”

 

“Thanks. Uh, you too.”

 

Zach ended the call, and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. A parent-teacher interview? And he was the parent. Although for the past two and a half months, he had taken care of Cody every day, put him to bed each night, made his meals, drove him to school, and put Band Aids on his cuts and scrapes, it seemed impossible that he was now a parent. He knew it was true, but it wasn’t something that he gave much thought. In reality, his role in Cody’s life had not changed all that much. He had always been an important caregiver for him. In fact, taking care of him with Shaun was infinitely easier than taking care of him with Jeanne. But it didn’t change the reality that before, he had really been nothing more than the helpful uncle. Now, he was the parent, both on paper, and in reality.

 

He realized that there was nothing he could currently do about the situation, so he continued with his original plan to work on his painting. He brought his coffee over to his easel, and set to work. He looked over what he had done so far, trying to decide where to recommence. He soon found himself staring blankly at the canvas, unable to process a single thing he was seeing. All he could think was, writing on the table? Gee, I wonder who taught him that? I should have been more careful—kids are so impressionable. He probably had no idea why he was being told that he was breaking the rules. What other idiotic mistakes have I made?

 

He soon gave up on painting, and collapsed in front of the TV. He found a station that was playing episode after episode of Friends, and was able to somewhat escape his current concerns. He was still sitting on the couch when he heard the apartment door open.

 

“Hello?” Shaun’s voice called.

 

“Hey,” Zach answered. After a bit of scuffing sounds in the vestibule, Cody emerged quietly, with none of his usual energy and excitement to see Zach.

 

“Hey there, Cody,” he said.

 

“Hi, Zach.”

 

Shaun followed Cody in. He met Zach’s eyes, and mouthed “Hey.” Zach smiled back. “All right, Codes,” Shaun said, “why don’t you go play in your room for a bit while Zach and I talk?”

 

Cody nodded, as if he had been expecting this request, and trudged off to his room.

 

Shaun sat down next to Zach. “So.”

 

“So?”

 

“Well, I don’t know the details, but Cody’s teacher told me he got into some trouble today at school. He said we should be expecting a call.”

 

“Yeah, I already got it. He got caught drawing on a table, and apparently threw a tantrum when he was told that isn’t allowed.”

 

“Hm,” Shaun said. Then, he looked at Zach with a smirk. “And where on earth could he have been inspired to cause such vandalism?”

 

Zach closed his eyes and shook his head, not smiling. “I know, I’m an idiot.”

 

“Zach,” Shaun said, putting his hand over Zach’s and leaning in toward him, “no, you’re not. You’re an amazing parent who doesn’t limit your kid’s creativity.”

 

“He isn’t even my kid.”

 

“Hey, come on, none of that. You and I both know he’s more your son than anyone else’s.”

 

Zach opened his eyes and looked at Shaun. Outside of the bedroom, in the bright, revealing light of day, he tended to shy away from tender, honest moments, when they told each other how they really felt. He preferred to be subtler with expressing his emotions, conveying things in the squeeze of a hand or the meeting of eyes instead of having to put it out there in words. Words were Shaun’s forte, not his. But this time, he didn’t shy away from telling the truth. He met Shaun’s eyes and said: “If he’s my son, then he’s yours too. We’re in this together.”

 

Shaun smiled, and gave his hand a squeeze. Zach could see tears in his eyes. “You’re right,” Shaun said. “So, what are we going to do about this? What did they say when they called?”

 

“They said Miss Canary wants to meet me for a parent-teacher interview. I’m going in on Wednesday night.”

 

“All right. I’ll go with you.”

 

“Really? You don’t have to. I mean, we’d have to find a babysitter—”

 

“So we’ll find a babysitter. I’m going with you, no questions asked. We’re doing this together, right?”

 

Zach smiled and nodded. “Right.”

 

“Now,” Shaun said, shifting his eyes to the door of Cody’s room, which was slightly ajar, “what do we do about Cody for the present? I mean, we don’t know the whole story.”

 

“No, but we know he broke the rules. Maybe we should talk to him about it, tell him we’re going to go see his teacher.”

 

“Yeah, that’d let him know how seriously we’re taking this. But maybe we should reserve punishment until we do know what happened?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Zach, thinking about how guilty Cody already seemed to be feeling. “It seems kind of cruel, holding him in suspense like that. We know he broke the rules, I think that’s enough information.”

 

“OK, so, what do we do?”

 

“I’ve got no fucking idea. I’ve never had to punish him before.”

 

“You haven’t?”

 

“No, Jeanne always—actually, I don’t know if she’s ever really punished him either. When she’d get fed up, she’d just send him to his room.”

 

“Hm. Well, I know that when I was a kid, punishment was usually getting things taken away. He’s been looking forward to going to the beach this weekend—how about we cancel the trip as punishment?”

 

Zach frowned. “First of all, he already missed the beach this past weekend, and that wasn’t his fault. I think he’s suffered enough in that aspect. And secondly … well, I want to go to the beach this weekend too. I’m not in trouble, am I?”

 

Shaun chuckled. “No, you’re not. So, what do we do?”

 

“How about no TV for a week? He doesn’t watch much, but he looks forward to when we allow it.”

 

“That seems reasonable. No TV until next Monday.”

 

Zach nodded, feeling that they had come to a good decision. He just hoped Cody would understand. He hoped this wouldn’t be the beginning of a lifetime of Cody resenting them. And he hoped that the punishment fit the crime. There was certainly something backwards about doling out punishment before understanding the full story of what had happened.

 

They went into Cody’s room together and talked to him. According to Cody, Miss Canary got “really mad” at him for drawing on the table, when she “never said” that he wasn’t allowed. And then she had wiped off his amazing drawing of a robot, and that made him angry, so he yelled at her. Zach tried to be firm when he explained to Cody that it didn’t matter how great the drawing was, if it was against the rules, it was against the rules, and he shouldn’t argue about it. But he felt Cody’s pain: his own masterpieces had been wiped away or covered up enough times for him to understand very well how heartbreaking it could be.

 

“So,” Cody said, his mind clearly running on overdrive, “you’re not allowed to draw on the table at school, but you’re allowed drawing on other tables? Like the picnic table where Jeanne worked?”

 

Neither man answered immediately. Shaun just looked at Zach, a half-smile on his face that said, “And now look what you’ve done!”

 

“Well, no, not exactly. That was just—it’s because I …” Zach stopped and looked at Cody. He didn’t want to give him the wrong information, but he’d be damned if he was raising a kid who didn’t understand that some rules are meant to be bent. But could a five-year-old really understand that and be able to tell the difference? “Here, let’s make a deal. If I say you can draw somewhere or if Shaun says you can draw somewhere, you can draw there. If your teacher says you can draw somewhere, then that’s OK too. But otherwise, it is not OK to draw wherever you want. Next time, you should ask the grown-up you’re with.”

 

“Oh,” Cody said, considering this agreement. “OK.”

 

That out of the way, Shaun explained to Cody the punishment they had decided on. And other than his initial, “But Miss Canary already made me sit in timeout,” he wasn’t very resistant. They left the room on good terms, and Zach was feeling that even if he had made some mistakes, he was doing the right thing here.

 

Shaun headed for the kitchen, and Zach followed. When Shaun opened the refrigerator door, Zach went up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. “Thanks,” he said into his ear.

 

Shaun smiled and turned his head a little. “For what?”

 

“You know, helping. This stuff is … well, it’s easier with you around.”

 

Shaun lifted his arm and rubbed Zach’s wrist. “You’re welcome. Now, are you going to help me cook dinner, or what?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll help.” Zach let go of Shaun and moved to stand beside him. “What’re we having?”

 

“Something with chicken.”

 

“Wow, sounds complicated.”

 

“Hey,” Shaun said, giving him a gentle shove, “I haven’t had the chance to figure it out, all right?”

 

Zach rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

 

Shaun suddenly grabbed him and pulled him close, nuzzled his nose, and then kissed him firmly. “I love you.”

 

Zach pulled back a tiny bit, but didn’t leave Shaun’s embrace. “What was that for?”

 

Shaun shrugged. “No reason. Just wanted to say it.”

 

Zach smiled, nuzzled Shaun’s nose back, and kissed him again. “Well, I love you too.”

 

They cooked together, and then had a normal, family supper. The evening was quiet and pleasant, as Zach had been anticipating when he first arrived home. Thinking of this much later that night, he suddenly remembered the terrible day he had had, and realized that he never even told Shaun about it. The whole thing seemed unimportant now, though. The things that had frustrated him so much hours earlier now just seemed like small hiccups in his day. Now, all he could think about was his son, and his man. They were all that really mattered. He could get one crazy customer after another, and every piece of bisque in the studio could break, he would still have these guys to come home to, and so nothing else mattered.

 

*          *          *

Tuesday proved to be a much better day than Monday had been. Nothing broke, the customers were all pleasant, and he was working with Eliza. During some quiet time at the studio, the two of them sat at a table together, painting sample pieces for the studio. Zach’s was a large, rectangular plate that he was painting a city skyline at sunset onto.

 

“We need to start hanging out together outside of work,” Eliza said suddenly.

 

Zach glanced up from his plate. “You’re very bossy today.”

 

“Shut up, I’m serious. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

 

“I’ve got this—actually, I just thought of something. Remember your offer to baby-sit?”

 

Eliza frowned. “Yes.”

 

“Well, Shaun and I need to go to this … thing. It should only be an hour or so, I think, but we need someone to watch Cody. Would you be interested? You’d finally get to meet them and everything.”

 

Eliza shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

 

“OK, I’ll pick you up around six-thirty.”

 

“Deal.” She started adding some pink highlights to the flowers on the vase she was painting. “You know, if we ever have an illegitimate love child together, it’s good to know you’ll be a good parent.”

 

Zach raised his eyebrows. “That’s a very random thing to say.”

 

“Well, I think about these things.”

 

Zach laughed. “It’s not like we’d ever have a kid together.”

 

“Why are you so negative?”

 

“Eliza, we’re never going to have sex.”

 

Eliza scowled. “Never say never. I’ll seduce you one day, you’ll see.”

 

The two of them laughed. Zach squirted more yellow paint onto his palette and brightened up his sun. His plate needed more color. The world was full of so many beautiful, bright colors, after all.

 

*          *          *

As promised, Zach picked up Eliza at six-thirty sharp. She rushed into the car, her hair still soaked. “Are you always this punctual?” she said. “I might have a problem with that.”

 

“Why did you bother showering anyways? You’re babysitting a five-year-old.”

 

“I want to smell nice for your boyfriend.”

 

Zach chuckled as he checked his side-mirror before pulling out of the parking lot of Eliza’s apartment building. “Whatever you say.”

 

The introduction of Eliza to Shaun and Cody went even better than Zach expected. After hellos were exchanged, Shaun and Eliza were already joking about Zach’s overly cautious driving. And as for Eliza and Cody, it was love at first sight. Cody immediately wanted to show Eliza his room, and Eliza seemed genuinely excited to see it.

 

“Just remember,” Zach said as they headed toward Cody’s room, “no TV.”

 

“TV!” Eliza said, looking over her shoulder at Zach. “Who needs TV? TV sucks.”

 

“All right, we should be home soon,” Zach said, laughing.

 

Zach didn’t talk during the drive to Cody’s school. He tapped the armrest as he stared out the passenger window.

 

“Relax, babe,” Shaun said quietly. “This is no big deal.”

 

“You don’t know that, Shaun. We have no idea what she’s going to say.”

 

“Cody is a good, well-adjusted kid. She’s just doing her job and making sure that any tiny problems get nipped in the bud. It will be fine.”

 

Zach didn’t say anything.

 

For the most part, Shaun was right. Miss Canary sat at her desk in the kindergarten classroom, and Shaun and Zach sat across from her. She mainly wanted to talk about what happened on Monday, which was actually less of a big deal than Zach had imagined. Miss Canary had told Cody he wasn’t allowed to write on the table and that he would have to sit in timeout for breaking a rule. Cody had whined and stamped a bit, but had eventually complied. She didn't think any of this was unusual, but she just liked to make sure parents were informed about these things. Zach told her how they had discussed the incident with Cody, and it wouldn’t happen again.

 

“While I have the two of you in here,” Miss Canary said when they had finished discussing the table-writing incident, “there is something else I wanted to bring up.”

 

Both men nodded, and Zach tensed, fearing what was coming next. What was she going to say? That she disapproved of their arrangement? That she thought it was detrimental to Cody’s development to live with two men who slept together?

 

“It’s about something Cody sometimes says,” she went on. “He’ll often talk about someone he calls his Dad. He’ll say, ‘My Dad and I did this,’ or ‘My Dad does that,’ and so on. Is Cody’s father in the picture?”

 

Zach and Shaun looked at each other. Here it was, the issue that both of them were so uncertain of. And apparently, it wasn’t something that was kept to the confines of their home. “No,” Zach said, “he isn’t. Cody means me when he says ‘Dad.’ It’s something he only started in the past few months, but it’s nothing we encouraged. He just sort of came up with it on his own.”

 

Miss Canary smiled. “That’s actually what I suspected. And I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with encouraging it.”

 

“Really?” Zach said. “But, I mean, I’m not his father.”

 

“Of course you are. At least, he sees you as one. It means he feels safe with you.”

 

“But what about what other people will think?” Zach said, vocalizing a concern he had been holding in. “It’ll seem like I’m trying to take on a role that isn’t really mine.”

 

“First of all,” Miss Canary said, “Cody has put you in that role. You haven’t placed yourself there. Secondly, you seem to be doing what the job entails, so the role should be yours to take. And finally, why does it matter what others think?” She looked from Zach to Shaun, and back to Zach again. “I’m sure you two have had to deal with your share of disapproval. It doesn’t change what you’re doing, does it?”

 

Zach shrugged, unsure how to answer this, but Shaun said, “No, it doesn’t. She’s right, Zach. If Cody wants to call you Dad, let him call you Dad.”

 

“OK,” Zach said, nodding. It suddenly seemed right to him as well. Cody had rarely even called Jeanne “Mom.” If he finally had someone he wanted to look up to as a parent and label them as such, then that was a good thing.

 

“I think what you two are doing is great, by the way,” Miss Canary said, smiling. She looked like she was only a few years older than Zach—almost certainly younger than Shaun—but to Zach, she seemed a million times wiser than he was. At least, in terms of the complexities of five-year-olds. “I don’t know exactly what your story is, but I know you’re making that boy very happy. You should hear him when he talks about what you guys all do together. It’s always ‘When we go to the beach,’ or ‘When we went to the zoo,’ or even ‘When we went shopping.’ Everything seems to be an adventure to him. He’s very proud of you two.”

 

Neither Zach nor Shaun said anything immediately. Zach wanted to look at Shaun, but didn’t because he feared the threatening tears would spill over.

 

“Thanks,” Shaun finally said.

 

They wrapped the meeting up after that, and Zach and Shaun headed home. During the drive, Shaun reached over and took Zach’s hand. “That went really well.”

 

“Yeah,” Zach said, still deep in thought.

 

They arrived back home to a very happy Cody who was very unhappy when he learned that it was bedtime. Eliza stuck around long enough to read him a bedtime story, but then said she wanted to get going as she started early at the studio the next day.

 

“You must have the magic touch,” Shaun said as they saw her to the door, “Cody almost never stays down on the first try.”

 

Eliza shrugged. “I think I just tired him out.”

 

Zach drove her home, and then returned to the apartment, where he collapsed on the couch with Shaun. “I am so glad that whole thing is over-with,” Zach said.

 

“Yeah, me too,” Shaun said. “But it was good, I think.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I guess we’re not complete failures as parents.”

 

Shaun chuckled and wrapped and arm around Zach. He pulled him close. “I guess not.”

 

Zach leaned into the embrace. He was feeling very calm. He felt something in his chest, some tiny part of him that had been holding on for two and a half months, suddenly unclench. For the first time in many years, he let himself relax.

 

Zach didn’t know how much time had gone by when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He was tempted to ignore it, but he hated to miss calls. So he pulled out his cell, and answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Zach.”

 

Zach sat up straight as realization hit. “Jeanne.”