Forty-Three Days (3/9)
Nov. 19th, 2008 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timehasa_wayChapter 1: Sound and Vision
Chapter 2: Blood and Dust
Chapter 3: Cereal and Stitches
Jensen woke up with his muscles aching. He couldn’t move much with his leg in the condition it was, and his body was beginning to protest being stuck in the same position for so many hours. He groaned and stretched his arms, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand next to the bed and wondering if Jared was still asleep. A light knock on the open door answered his question, and he looked up to see Jared in the doorway, stretching and yawning.
“Y’alright?” Jared drawled tiredly, eyelids still heavy, as he absentmindedly lifted his shirt with one hand to scratch at his stomach. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Jensen grunted, squirming beneath the sheets. He stilled, the shock of realizing he was still only dressed in a towel causing his cheeks to redden slightly. “Uh…just…just kind of aching now. Need a new position, you know?” He held up a hand when Jared immediately moved to help him sit up. “No! No, I-I got it.” Wincing a bit in pain and catching his bottom lip in his teeth, he hauled himself up into a sitting position. “Thanks,” he added awkwardly, eyes flicking up to glance at Jared.
“You know, I was thinking,” Jared started, moving over to his bureau and pulling clothes out of random drawers, “Now that you can leave the bed with that jewelry on, we can go to the hospital and get that leg taken care of. We probably should’ve done it yesterday.” He turned to Jensen, pretending to smile shyly at him, lowering his head and looking up at him through his bangs. “Could you avert your eyes?” He giggled girlishly, reaching down and popping the button on his jeans.
“Like you could ever be that innocent, Padalecki,” Jensen said, grinning and rolling his eyes.
“I’m not. That. Innocent!” Jared sing-songed, pulling his jeans open wide and striking a pose.
“Oh!” Jensen turned away, laughing. “Thank God you weren’t going commando. I’d be traumatized for life. And if you ever sing Britney Spears again, I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, though, Jensen.” Jensen turned back just in time to see Jared zipping up a new pair of jeans. “We need to get your leg taken care of, professionally. Those cuts are deep.” He pulled his shirt off and dragged another one down over his head. “And we need to do it as soon as possible.”
Jensen knew Jared was right, and he knew that the charms he was wearing had worked so far. He fought the familiar feelings of fear and anxiety stirring in the pit of his stomach. The thought of venturing out of Jared’s house to get to the hospital felt less safe, somehow, like he’d be so much more vulnerable and exposed out in the open air.
“We can’t,” he found himself saying, Jared staring at him in disbelief. And he wasn’t sure if he was actually following logic or just looking for an excuse when he continued speaking. “I mean…what would we tell people? How would we explain what happened to me, and why we let it sit for this long?” Jared’s expression crumpled, and Jensen kept going, feeling both concerned for his own health and relieved that he could hold this off for at least a little while longer. “Think about it, man. We show up at the hospital, you with a freakin’ shiner, and me with a leg clawed up by something clearly not of this world, and we say, ‘Oops, we didn’t realize we should have come here right away’? How will that not make anybody suspicious?”
“Do we have any other options?” Jared dropped down on the bed beside Jensen, sighing. “I’m just afraid of what might happen to your leg if we don’t get it taken care of properly.”
“Me too,” Jensen admitted. “But unless we know anyone who’d be willing to take care of this without asking questions or spreading the word, we have to let it go.”
“What about Tracy?” Jared asked, looking hopeful. “I mean, come on, when has anybody in our crew ever let us down?”
“Never,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “But you really think we can ask her to do this? I still don’t know what we would tell her, and even if we got her to come out here…She’s a set medic, Jared. We’re not on set. She’s not on duty. You don’t think that, if someone found out, she could lose her job over this?”
Jared groaned in frustration and pushed off of the bed, arms crossing over his chest as he stared out the window. He waited a few moments, standing in silence, then reached down to the clip on his jeans, drawing out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Jensen watched suspiciously as Jared flipped the phone open, scrolling through numbers.
“I’m calling her,” Jared answered simply, pressing the phone to his ear.
“What?!” Jensen scrambled to get out of bed, but froze when Jared began speaking, his voice cheery and smooth.
“Hey! Tracy! It’s Jared!”
Jensen fell back on the bed, throwing the covers over his face, his hands balling into fists, mouth going dry. There was no way this could end well.
“I’m awesome, sweetie, how are you? Great, great. Listen, I need to ask you for a huge, huge favor. And I understand if you can’t do it. But Jensen, he’s hurt...”
If Jensen hadn’t been so anxious, he would’ve allowed himself to smile at the way Jared’s voice dropped seamlessly into such a pathetic, pleading tone. The sound of it created a mental image of the puppy eyes everyone adored in Sam. It was nearly irresistible, and if Jared was any other person, Jensen would think he was a complete douche bag for being so underhanded and swindling everyone into doing what he wanted them to do. But, since Jared was Jared, the big loving goofball who only ever used his “powers” to seemingly make the world a better place, it was alright. Jensen knew from experience that, whenever Jared used that tone, and you’d reluctantly give in, you’d always end up thanking him for it in the end. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, Jared was only trying to coax you into doing something that would end up being more fun than you thought, something that would help you relax, and feel a bit more carefree. This moment just happened to be that one-tenth of a percent of the time in which Jared was attempting to pull someone into something a lot more serious. And even now, it was to help someone in need. If there was anything Jensen had ever envied about his costar, it was his selflessness.
“Yeah, yeah, this…this thing happened, and his leg got torn up pretty bad. No, no, he’s alright, it’s just…I’ve been taking care of him, and I think he might need more help than I can give him. Aw, it’s, it’s stupid, really. It was my fault.”
Jensen pulled the covers down and stared at Jared, who hadn’t yet turned back from the window.
“We were out, you know, at Shebeen, and when we left, I saw this stray. You know me, I decide we have to save the damn thing before it gets hit by a car or somethin’, ya know? Jensen just wanted to get home and crash, but my stupid drunk ass grabs him and makes for the dog. Turns out, the thing wasn’t as harmless as it seemed. It was actually pretty vicious. But I’m too slow to react, and I’ve got a hold of Jensen, and when the dog comes at us, it jumps up on him, and its claws just tear into his leg.”
He listened to Jared ramble, realizing that it was actually a good thing that Jared was rambling. It was what Jared did when he got started on a story, nothing out of the ordinary about it. With anybody else, you’d think they were just spinning yarns. But Jared seemed to always be the exception to the rule. He listened through the explanation of the two of them being too drunk to realize that a hospital was necessary, how they didn’t want to ruin their reputations on something so stupid because they were still good guys, and could Tracy please, please help them out? And through it all, Jensen found that the one thing that bothered him the most was that Jared blamed himself.
“I know what this could mean for you, and I absolutely understand if you can’t. We just figured if there was anybody we could trust to take good care of this and not tell anyone, it would be you.”
That was it. She was hooked. Jared was thanking her profusely and blurting out his address before Jensen could even blink.
“It worked,” Jared said, flipping his phone closed and turning to Jensen with Sam’s puppy eyes still intact.
“Dude,” Jensen patted the spot beside him on the bed, “Sit the fuck down.”
“Look, I’m sorry for calling her, but it was the only choice we had left!”
“That’s not what this is about.” Jared’s wide-eyed apology turned to confusion, and he cautiously approached the bed and sat down, facing Jensen. “Please tell me that what you just told her was nothing but a story, and that you don’t feel that way in real life.”
“Wha-Which part?” Jared stuttered, taken aback by the stern tone of Jensen’s voice.
“The part where you told her that what happened to me was your fault. The part where I only get clawed up because you thought the ‘dog,’” Jensen didn’t even fight the urge to use air quotes, “was harmless, and you held me down while it did its damage.”
“It’s not like that isn’t what happened.” Jared’s eyes flitted around the room, eventually settling on the wall beside the bed. “I didn’t believe you, I held you down, and you were attacked. That’s pretty clearly my fault.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jensen spat, waiting for Jared to make eye contact again before continuing. “That’s bullshit, Jared. Things would’ve ended up a whole lot worse if you weren’t here. You don’t blame yourself for anything that happens to me, you got that?”
“Yeah.” A half-smile tugged at the corner of Jared’s lips, and he nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Okay.” Jensen’s expression softened, and he reached a hand up to ruffle Jared’s hair, Jared playfully smacking his hand away. “Now, I’m a bit naked under here, so if you wouldn’t mind bringing me some clothes…”
“I’ll just get outta here, let you grab what you want out of your suitcase.” Jared stood, crossing over to the door, hand on the knob. “Let me know if you need help. I’ll be right outside the door.”
Jensen nodded and waited for Jared to close the door before swinging his leg off of the bed and hobbling over to his suitcase. When he opened it, he was hit with an unexpected swell of emotions. When he’d called Jared, asking him to come back to Vancouver, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it through another day. He thought that, by now, he’d either be completely batshit insane or dead. Instead, he was here, in Jared’s house, suddenly feeling better and safer than he had since all of this started.
The inside of his suitcase was packed full of clothes. They were rolled, folded, and lined up just the way his mother would have packed them, with meticulous care. He brought a hand to his mouth, embarrassed (even though he was alone) by how the sight of it caused a lump to rise in his throat and tears to spring to his eyes. God, he was a mess. But last night, he’d spent the first night in months without a Hellhound hovering close by, and he’d woken up to this, this level of care and protection. They were far from figuring all of this out, and neither of them knew how or if they could fix it. But, even with the looming uncertainty of how it would end, Jensen knew that there was no possible way he could ever thank Jared enough for what he’d already done.
He coughed and swallowed, sniffling as he pulled the clothes he’d need out of his suitcase. He blinked back the tears, pushing his emotions back down where they belonged. There was no way he’d ever let Jared see him crying over a fucking packed suitcase. With some difficulty, he managed to dress himself, cursing when the pain shot up his leg again. He heard a soft knock on the door before it opened a crack.
“Jensen?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You look comfy,” Jared commented, pushing the door open wider.
“Yeah.” Jensen glanced down at the sweatpants he’d thrown on. “I figured these’d be easier to roll up over the bandages so she can have at it.”
“Good idea. Now why don’t you shave, so you don’t look so much like a hobo?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jensen said thoughtfully, brushing his hand over his cheek and feeling more than just a little stubble there. “Wow. It’s been way too long. I guess I should look a little less crazed and a little more like me if we’ll be facing Tracy soon, huh?”
“Yep!” Jared nodded, heading for the stairs. “Call me if you need anything.”
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Jared patted his dogs, the two of them still anxious and subdued. Glancing around the living room, his eyes widened when he noticed the stain on the carpet by the door. Shit, he’d forgotten to clean up the blood. If anything would look suspicious, that would. Rushing into the kitchen, he grabbed some cleaning supplies, dousing the carpet with fluid and scrubbing as hard as he possibly could. It was times like this that Jared cursed himself for having a beige carpet, the deep color of Jensen’s blood seaming to spread to a wider area as he scrubbed. He jumped when he heard a slight groan, startled by the sudden break in the silence. He turned around to see a clean-shaven Jensen just reaching the bottom of the stairs, face twisted in pain, one hand clutching the rail while the other held the bottle of Motrin.
“Dude!” Jared stood immediately, dropping his sponge and moving towards Jensen, wrapping an arm around him for support. “I would’ve helped you.”
“I’m alright,” Jensen insisted, but leaned into Jared to take some weight off of his leg. “Oh, crap.” He stared at the blood-tinted patch of carpet by the door. “I completely forgot about that.”
“I’m not sure I can get it all out, since I let it dry,” Jared said worriedly. “Think it could pass for red wine?”
“What am I, Jesus?” Jensen joked, moving away from Jared to spread his arms out wide. “This is my blood!”
“Oookay,” Jared said slowly, grabbing Jensen and leading him to the dining room. “Good to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” He laughed when Jensen winked at him and wandered into the kitchen. “How about cereal?”
“Sounds fine.” Jensen pulled a chair out for himself and sat down, setting the bottle of Motrin down on the table. Jared came back in and set two boxes, two bowls, two spoons, and some milk down on the table. Grabbing a bowl and spoon for himself, Jensen grasped at the boxes, raising an eyebrow at Jared when he read the front of the first one. “Fruity Pebbles?”
“Why not?” Jared grabbed the box from him and poured a liberal amount of cereal into his bowl, filling any free space with milk, so that a few splashes and sugary bits spilled over the edges when he sat down and stuck his spoon in. “They’re good.”
Jensen smiled at his friend, shaking his head fondly when Jared dove into his overflowing bowl. He glanced at the other box on the table. Cheerios, always the safe bet. He eyed the box of Fruity Pebbles in front of Jared, suppressing laughter when Jared’s only move to catch the milk dribbling down his chin was to scoop it back up into his mouth with his spoon, staying hunched over the bowl the entire time. Briefly wondering if Jared was even breathing, Jensen grabbed the box and poured some of the multicolored cereal into his own bowl. He’d only eaten maybe two spoonfuls when Jared reached over, taking the box back and shaking out another full bowl. He grinned and continued eating, wondering how he’d ever managed to allow the Hellhound’s presence to interfere with Jared’s. He could feel it there now, in the room, but he focused on Jared as a welcome distraction, finally learning to block out the evil that surrounded him.
“Where are the dogs?” he asked, swallowing his last bit of food and looking around the room.
“Um,” Jared wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “They’re…” He trailed off and nodded to a corner of the living room, visible from where they were sitting, the dogs huddled together and backed up against the wall.
“Oh.” Jensen stood, taking his bowl out to the sink and pouring himself a glass of water. Swallowing down a few pills, he walked back out to the living room, reaching out to the dogs. “Hey, guys…”
It was more than disturbing when both Harley and Sadie growled and scattered before he could touch them. A shiver ran through him, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. Suddenly the Hellhound wasn’t so easy to ignore. He closed his eyes, trying to shut it out. He knew that the dogs were reacting to the Hellhound, not him. But it still made him feel even more like a marked man. He was marked by death, and it was quite literally following him. Jared’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch, his voice bringing him back to reality.
“They’ve been weird ever since I let it in here,” Jared said, moving his hand to rub it up and down Jensen’s back. “Just…don’t worry about it, okay?”
Jensen’s response was cut off by the doorbell, the dogs barking from the back of the house, and he felt rather thankful for the interruption, knowing that snapping at Jared and telling him that “not worrying about it” was a hell of a lot easier said than done wouldn’t help matters any. They looked at each other, simultaneously taking deep breaths, and Jared moved to answer the door.
“Hey, Tracy,” Jared greeted the petite blond, hugging her tightly before letting her enter. “Thank you so much for doing this. You don’t even know how much this means to us.”
“Yeah,” Jensen cut in, running a shaky hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of the change in its length, a few messy strands beginning to fall into his eyes. He bent to hug her, hoping the rest of his body wasn’t shaking too badly. “We really can’t thank you enough.”
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” Tracy said, lugging a large medical kit into the house with her. Jared closed the door behind her, and she turned to him, eyeing the bruise on his left cheekbone. “You boys get into a bar fight, too?”
“No! No,” Jared said, grinning through the slight flush on his cheeks. “You know me, I’m always hurting myself. Just clumsy, I guess.” He caught Jensen shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye.
“Okay,” she sighed, looking over at Jensen. “Let’s get a look at that leg.”
Jensen found himself positioned awkwardly on the floor, right pant leg rolled up, Tracy opening up her medical kit and joining him on the floor. As she descended, her eyes caught on the stain by the door, and she froze.
“Is that…blood?”
Both Jensen and Jared stiffened, sharing a glance between them. Jensen kept his eyes averted, while Jared started shaking his head.
“No.” He looked down at them from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest. “Just a bit of red wine.”
She stood back up, moving towards the spot, cleaning products still on the floor, and kicked at the sponge, turning it over so that the blood-darkened side stared up at her. Jared closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. This was more than fucked up.
“Oh my God.”
“Tracy, it’s not what you think,” Jared said calmly, hands up, palms out, and puppy eyes on full display for when she turned around and looked at him, her eyes wide and fearful, not unlike Jensen’s.
“Jared…” She shook her head slightly, backing up towards the door. “I-I don’t know if I can…”
“Please,” Jensen choked out from his spot on the floor, both Jared and Tracy turning to him. “Please,” he repeated, eyes wide and childlike, and damn was he channeling Jared. “This…It isn’t anything bad. I swear. We’re not mixed up in anything, it’s just, my leg was bleeding pretty badly when we got back here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Tracy challenged, eyes flicking to the door. “Why did you lie to me?”
“We just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Jensen said. “I’m sorry. I know how this looks, but please, you have to believe me, this isn’t what you think.”
“Tracy,” Jared cut in, hands folded and held out to her in a pleading gesture. “I know this is a risk for you, and believe me, I didn’t want to put you through that. There is no possible way I would ever have called you if we were mixed up in something worse than what this is. But this? This was just a stupid accident. That’s all. I’m sorry we lied, and I’m sorry we scared you. But I swear to you, on my life, that this isn’t anything even remotely dangerous.”
“You know us, Tracy,” Jensen said, looking for any sign that their pleas were having an effect on her. “Everyone knows us. You know we don’t get into trouble like that.”
Tracy swallowed, reaching behind her for the doorknob. She watched their faces fall in defeat as she opened the door wide. Then she walked back over to Jensen, crouching down on the floor next to him.
“You keep watch on that door,” she instructed Jared. “From right where you’re standing. That door stays open.” She continued to eye Jared warily as she pulled a pair of scissors from her kit.
Jared nodded, relieved, and stepped back, watching the door from a distance, leaving an open exit for her. He cursed himself for leaving the cleaning supplies on the floor, and his stomach twisted when he realized just how much they’d scared her. She wanted to make sure she had an open exit ready, incase…He shivered slightly, feeling more disgusted with himself than he ever had in his life.
Jensen lay still while Tracy cut the bandages off, watching her eyes widen when she saw the amount of blood that had seeped through the first set. He flinched when she pulled that first set of bandages off, the blood having all but glued them to his injured leg, a bit of fresh blood seeping out from the wounds with the aggravation. Shock registered on her face for a few seconds before she forced it away. She worked quietly, Jensen only aware of what she was doing because he watched her every move. He watched the cleaning process, the quick injection, the pull of every stitch. When she finished, she packed her supplies and stood, heading for the door.
“Thank you,” Jared said softly, and she turned to face him.
“That was no dog,” she said evenly. “I don’t know what happened here. I don’t even know why I helped you. But please don’t ever call me for anything like this again.”
“Tracy, I’m sorry.” Jensen moved to stand beside Jared, pant leg still rolled up, stitches visible. “I’m sorry.”
“Here.” Jared drew his wallet out and reached into it, handing her a wad of cash.
“No!” she stepped back, anger written on her features. “I don’t want your bribe.”
“It’s not a bribe,” Jared said, holding it out to her. “It’s for the work you did. And our thanks. I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t easy.”
Tracy hesitated, then nodded, finally taking the money and walking back to her car, Jared once again closing the door behind her. Jensen backed up and flopped down on the couch.
“I feel like so much shit.”
Jared felt just as broken as Jensen sounded. He sat down next to him and slung an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently. They said nothing, unaware of how much time had passed, until Jensen finally broke the silence.
“She was scared of us, Jared. We fucking scared her.”
“I know.” Jared leaned back against the couch cushions. “God knows what she thinks of us now.”
“You think she’ll tell anybody?” Jensen asked, his chest tightening with worry.
“No.” Jared rolled his head back and forth on the couch. “She’d have as much to lose as we would, if not more.”
“Oh, that’s just wonderful.” Jensen shrugged away from Jared and stood, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a headache. They’d just crossed a line to deceit and blackmail, a path he’d never wanted to take. His life was spinning out of control, and he hated it, hated how lost it made him feel, hated himself for letting things get this far. He’d never felt so uncomfortable in his own skin before, feeling his sanity slip a little more when he acknowledged that feeling. He wanted to forget about it, push it away. Before he knew it, he was pushing it onto Jared, accusatory words flowing past his lips. “Tell me again how you thought this was necessary?”
“What?” Jared got to his feet, arms crossing over his chest. “So, now it’s only me who thought it was necessary?”
“Well, you’re the one who went ahead and called her!” Jensen blurted out, turning on Jared. If he were smart, or at least mentally stable, the look Jared gave him would have made him stop, but he just couldn’t seem to shut up, continuing on with biting sarcasm. “Oh, and by the way, good job with the sponge!”
Jared’s face turned ten different shades of red, his arms stiffly descending to his sides, fists clenching. Jensen could feel the tension in Jared, could see that Jared wanted to hit him, and he almost wanted him to. He knew he was wrong, he knew he’d screwed up for the millionth time, and he was so disgusted with himself for what happened with Tracy that he wanted Jared to be that angry with him. He wanted that blow to come, that pain. He deserved it. He was ten seconds away from screaming at Jared to just go ahead and fucking hit him when Jared let loose.
“You know what?” Jared’s hand rose, Jensen preparing himself for the impact, feeling a strange sense of disappointment when Jared merely pointed an angry finger at him. “I’m sick of this fucking attitude! I’m your best friend when I’m fucking saving your life and carrying you out of the shower, but one mistake and you fucking crucify me for it! You know, I’ve put up with a lot from you for the past couple of months, and if you’re gonna keep on being a dick, you can go the fuck home and take care of yourself! I never should have saved your sorry ass in the first place!”
Well, damn. Jensen unconsciously pressed a hand to his stomach, cradling it as if recovering from a strong blow. The temporary shock wore off, and he slowly began rubbing his stomach, nausea creeping up on him. While Jared hadn’t physically touched him, the words had hit him like a punch, and he could feel their essence mingling with the other sentiments bubbling beneath his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in, telling himself he deserved this.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Jared staring back at him, eyes wide and jaw dropped, an apology already written on his face. Jensen hated it. He hated that expression. Jared shouldn’t feel bad, he shouldn’t be sorry. He was right. He shouldn’t have to put up with Jensen’s mood swings. Jensen deserved this.
“You’re right,” Jensen said, before Jared could speak. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You don’t even have to say anything. I’m fucked up. You don’t need to deal with that.”
He paused, worrying his bottom lip. It hurt, Jared kicking him out. It hurt knowing he wouldn’t have the added sense of security that Jared provided, as well as the company. But he never should have dragged Jared into this in the first place. And Jared was right. He could take care of himself. It was something neither of them had spoken of since they’d found out that the jewelry he was wearing would protect him from Hellhounds. He could leave now. He didn’t need to keep Jared out of his bed, his room. Until now, they’d had this unspoken agreement between them that they’d go through this together. But they certainly didn’t have to.
“I’ll go get my stuff together.” He forced the words out, tried his best to sound okay with it all. The last thing he wanted was to sound pathetic enough to lay another guilt trip on Jared. “I’ll call myself a cab, and I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”
“No!” Jared grabbed him by the arm as he made for the stairs. “Jesus, no. You don’t think I really meant that?” Jensen stared back at him, trying to keep his expression blank.
“It’s okay if you did.”
“Christ, Jensen! How could you think that?” Jared’s eyes were on him, moving back and forth, as if he was trying to read the answer off of Jensen’s features. “You think I’m that cold-blooded?”
“No,” Jensen said, honestly surprised that Jared had taken this as an insult. This had nothing to do with Jared. Jared was anything but cold-blooded. “No, of course I don’t.”
“What’s wrong with you, man?” Jared asked, scrutinizing him with concern. “What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” Jensen didn’t smile or answer, and Jared sighed in resignation, pulling him in for a quick, tight hug. “Look, what just happened…We both screwed up. We both feel like shit, and we’re both guilty. I know what I just said, but there’s no way I’m letting you out of this house. Not now. Not when I know what’s going on. It’s better if we stick together.” He stared at Jensen for a minute, his hands gently rubbing Jensen’s arms, trying to convey the fact that he wasn’t just saying this out of pity or guilt. When Jensen wordlessly started leaning to his left, Jared looked down at his stitches, abruptly changing the subject. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s alright,” Jensen replied after a beat, the newly masochistic side of him thankful that Jared hadn’t continued, not wanting him to completely erase the hurt he knew he deserved to feel. “It should heal faster now, I guess.”
Jared nodded, then grabbed for his phone when it jingled on his hip. He opened it up when he saw that he’d gotten a text message from Megan, and groaned when he read the words on the screen.
You haven’t called. Mom’s calling Ackles.
“Shit,” Jared cursed, closing the phone and setting it back in its clip. Jensen raised an eyebrow at him. “We need a story, and fast.”
“What?” Jensen asked, his blank stare turning to confusion. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t call your mother right now, she’ll probably be on the first plane here,” Jared answered, watching Jensen’s eyes widen as he spoke. “And she’ll probably kick my ass.”
“I-I don’t,” Jensen stuttered. “How does she know-”
“Well, I kind of left my family’s house in the middle of the night,” Jared explained. “They know I came back here for you. They know something’s up. I told them not to say anything until I found out what was wrong, but apparently my mom thinks I’m taking too long. She’s about to call your family’s house.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jared sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jensen toy with his cell phone, leg wrapped and propped up on the pillows again.
“Jared, I don’t wanna talk to anybody.”
“You have to,” Jared said for what seemed like the millionth time. But he continued to be patient, painfully aware of how trapped Jensen felt right now.
“They’ll know.”
“They’ll know that what? That Hellhounds are chasing you?” Jared chuckled softly, hoping to see at least a trace of a smile on Jensen’s lips. It didn’t happen. “Come on man,” he encouraged. “You can do this. You’re Dean fucking Winchester.”
Something sparked in Jensen’s eyes, and his expression changed slightly. Jared recognized Dean as soon as he saw him, and he stood, knowing Jensen would be able to tough this one out, now.
“I’ll be in the shower.”
Jensen nodded briefly, pushing a few buttons and bringing the phone to his ear, a gruff tentative “Mom?” sounding in the room as Jared closed the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Baby, I know, I’m sorry.”
Jared reentered the room quietly, feeling bad for intruding on Jensen’s conversation, but he needed to get dressed. Jensen glanced nervously at him as he crossed the room in his towel, heading for his bureau. He kept his back to Jensen and kept quiet, throwing clothes on as quickly as possible.
“Alright, alright, I won’t. I know I should have. It’s just…Of course I love you…Just-”
Jared’s heart sank. He knew that tone. He knew the sounds of a breakup all too well. Shit. He turned towards Jensen slowly, hearing the phone snapping shut. She’d hung up on him.
“Danneel?” he asked quietly. Jensen nodded, staring down at his hands. “I’m sorry, man.”
“It’s okay.” Jensen shrugged. “It’s my fault. I messed up. I know that.”
“Dude, come on.” Jared sat down on the bed beside him, wet hair falling into his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I know how you feel right now.”
“Yeah.” Jensen frowned. “About that…”
“What about it?”
“I got your messages, Jared,” Jensen said, looking up at him. “All of them.”
It took Jared a minute to realize what Jensen was talking about. Then the barrage of messages he’d left Jensen weeks ago came rushing back to him, suddenly remembering how hurt he’d been to not receive a response.
“So why didn’t you call me back?”
“I didn’t wanna talk,” Jensen answered, shrugging again. “I was afraid to, just like now. Thought that you’d be able to tell I’d gone insane just from the sound of my voice.” He paused, reaching for Jared’s shoulder. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry about not calling you back, about you and Sandy, about not being there for you. There’s really no excuse for that.”
“Apology accepted,” Jared said, some part of him feeling relieved that Jensen had finally acknowledged his own personal pain. Still, the relief was somewhat overshadowed by his concern for Jensen, whose mood had suddenly changed again.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love having the honest and calm Jensen that he was used to back, because he did. But should Jensen really be so calm and accepting at a time like this? Jared silently worried that he’d let the subject of his tirade drop too easily, and he wondered if he should have pressed Jensen more for answers about why he’d think Jared actually meant the horrible things he’d said. The fact that Jensen had accepted that so easily set off warning bells in the form of a strange chill running down his spine. But, maybe this was normal. Jensen was bound to be a bit “fucked up,” as he himself put it. When you’ve been dodging Hellhounds for months, irrational thoughts and mood swings are probably a given. Besides, if anything really went wrong with Jensen, Jared would know it. There wasn’t much Jensen could hide from him when he was living in Jared’s house.
“So…how are you?” Jensen asked awkwardly, his soft drawl breaking into Jared’s thoughts. “I mean, with everything that happened?”
“Um,” Jared started, “I’m okay, I guess. To tell you the truth, I haven’t even thought about it much since all of this started. But it was a thought-out decision, you know, for both of us. We weren’t rash about it, or anything.”
“That’s what you’re giving me?” Jensen smiled at him knowingly. “That’s the answer you gave the fans, dude.”
“What?” Jared asked, head cocked curiously to one side, slowly returning Jensen’s smile. “How do you know that? And it’s not like it wasn’t the truth, man. I didn’t lie to them.”
Jensen hesitated, nervously rubbing his hands together and looking away. He stopped smiling, a bit of color rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.
“I watched you,” he said quietly. When Jared looked at him quizzically, he continued. “People, uh, fans, they, they upload their videos from the conventions online, and I wanted to see how you were doing.” He briefly made eye contact with Jared, cheeks reddening a bit more. “You handled it really well. I was proud of you. I wanted to tell you that. I should have.”
Jared felt a blinding grin coming on, all of his worries suddenly vanishing with Jensen’s confession. He realized now how stupid it was, at the time, to think that Jensen was just being a selfish prick. Jensen was always looking out for him, in one way or another. And he couldn’t help but feel a bit cocky when he realized that, even though Jensen was being driven to the brink of insanity by fucking Hellhounds, he’d taken the time to check up on Jared like a crazed fangirl stalker.
“Dude, say something!” Jensen blurted out, twitching nervously. “I just poured my heart out like I’m on the fucking Lifetime channel, and you’re just sitting there grinning at me! Or, better yet, don’t say anything. Just…Fuck, I don’t know! Go get us some beers!”
Laughing loud enough for Jensen to hear him the entire time, Jared ran down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers out of the fridge, filling the dogs’ bowls up while he was down there, relieved to see them finally eating. Heading back into the bedroom, he held a beer out for Jensen to take unable to resist batting his eyelashes and saying, “Here you go, sweetie,” before sprawling next to Jensen on the bed. He could see the glare Jensen was giving him out of the corner of his eye, but was also aware of the smirk that played at the edge of Jensen’s lips. He didn’t know how they still managed to have fun when so much chaos was surrounding them, but he knew that if they didn’t, they would have both collapsed under the strain by now. And hell, if Sam and Dean could do it, so could they.
“So, how’d everything else go?” Jared asked, pausing to swallow a large gulp of beer. “What did you tell everybody?”
“Well, needless to say, everybody’s probably more worried than before, because of how vague I was,” Jensen answered, toying with the label on his bottle. “Dude, I’m such a fucking mama’s boy. She’s so worried, man. I hear her voice, and how upset she is, and part of me – the part that’s not insane – wants to hop the first flight home and just hug her, and tell her that everything’s fine.” Jensen raised the bottle to his lips to take a swig, sighing heavily, Jared’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “But I can’t do that. I’d be too afraid to, anyway. So, I just tell her that I’m going through something right now. I’ve hit a rough patch. I tell her that I don’t want to see her. Fuck, man!” Jared tightened his grip on Jensen’s shoulder. “What kind of person tells his mother that he doesn’t want to see her?”
“Someone who has no other choice,” Jared answered easily, letting his arm slip around Jensen’s shoulders, leaning into him. Jensen let his head fall back against the headboard, welcoming the touch.
“I told her I couldn’t see anybody, and that I needed some time on my own,” Jensen continued. “I told her that I was only with you because you were the only one who could understand, since you’d been through something like this before. And then I told her not to worry; that I’d call her and keep her updated, and I’d come see her and the rest of the family when this was over.”
Jared nodded quietly, the two of them simultaneously lifting their bottles to their lips. He didn’t ask if Jensen had called anyone else. He didn’t ask what he’d tried to tell Danneel, or what she’d said back. He was pretty sure he knew the answers, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I could watch it myself, and let you know what I find out.”
Jensen shook his head. He was grateful for Jared’s offer, but he wanted to be there, to see it for himself. Jared put the DVD in and joined him on the bed, selecting Crossroad Blues from the episode menu. Jensen fidgeted, adjusting Jared’s laptop in his lap, glasses still perched on his nose. He could always distract himself with something online. It was unsettling, just how conflicted he was. They wouldn’t know how to fix this unless they looked for answers. He knew that, and he wanted to find a way to get the Hellhounds off his tail. At the same time, he dreaded the answers they might find, wondering if there really was a way out of this. Knots twisted in his stomach as he thought of what it would be like if he had to live the rest of his life fighting off Hellhounds. The idea itself was almost suffocating.
He half watched and half researched on his own, surfing the internet. But most of the time, he listened. He didn’t remember what website he was on, and didn’t really know what he was looking at. But he heard the sounds of the Hellhounds trying to burst in through the door, the sound of Robert Johnson choking on his own blood. He didn’t realize just how tense he was until Jared scooted closer, pressing against him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relaxing into Jared’s warmth. He could do this. He was Dean fucking Winchester.
While Sam and Dean dug around at the crossroads outside Lloyd’s, Jensen became more preoccupied with the laptop, his search for answers having to do with the show and its lore taking him to places he hadn’t expected. He examined symbols more closely, read with more intent, and he could feel that he was close to figuring something out. Finally, it clicked, and just when Dean summoned the Crossroads Demon to get Evan Hudson out of his deal, he asked Jared to pause the DVD.
“Dude, I think I found something.”
“Really?” Jared paused the episode and leaned over Jensen’s shoulder to peer at the laptop. “What did you find?” He frowned when his eyes followed Jensen’s finger pointing to the screen. “A fansite? Are you serious?”
“Do you remember that?” Jensen pointed to the graphics on the site, one symbol in particular. “Do you know what it is?” Jared shook his head, and Jensen clicked on the next tab in the browser, pointing out a description on another fansite. “This is the same Tibetan spirit sigil that was used in Hell House.”
“Okay…” Jared leaned back and gave him a puzzled look. “So?”
“So,” Jensen prompted, “You remember what that episode was about?”
Jared paused, thinking, and Jensen was just about to start humming the Jeopardy theme when he saw Jared’s eyes light up.
“The tulpa!” Jared exclaimed, grinning triumphantly. Jensen rolled his eyes. “But what does that have to do with your situation?”
“Read this,” Jensen said simply, flipping back to the first site he’d showed Jared and pushing the laptop towards him.
The updates on the site, as well as the message boards, were teeming with fans heartbroken over Dean’s death. They couldn’t get over seeing him ripped to shreds by Helhounds. They loved the character, believed in the character. And now, they believed that that character was dead; killed by Hellhounds. And they were all converging on this site, and God knew how many others, to strengthen those beliefs and discuss the traumatic season finale. This site just happened to feature the Tibetan spirit sigil as part of its design.
“So…they believe this,” Jared said, beginning to catch on. “And since you’re Dean…My God, you think?”
“It’s the only thing that would make sense right now.” Jensen shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t make a deal. So far, from what we’ve seen in this episode, you have to make a deal to have a Hellhound on your tail. And these people…some of them are even questioning whether or not I’m coming back.”
“Jesus,” Jared breathed. “How the hell do we fix that?”
“…Jared…”
Jensen had stopped wondering how they could fix it, another terrifying thought suddenly consuming him. He gulped, hands beginning to shake, Jared continuing to ramble next to him.
“I mean, it’s not like we can change what aired, and we can’t tell anybody else what’s happening, because we’ll both be thrown in straight jackets…”
“Jared!” Jensen shouted, voice more strung out than he expected it to be.
“What?” Jared finally turned to him, concern immediately flashing in his eyes as he took in Jensen’s appearance and tone. “What’s wrong?”
“They think Dean went to Hell, Jared.” He swore he could feel his throat closing up, and struggled to continue speaking, his hands beginning to shake more violently. “They think I went to Hell. If…If we can’t stop this…does that mean…”
He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, vaguely aware that he might be close to hyperventilating. Jared quietly set the laptop aside and grabbed Jensen’s hands, squeezing them in his own.
“No.” Jensen looked up at Jared, wondering how his friend could sound so sure of himself. “No, it can’t. It can’t go that far. They can’t just dream up your afterlife, that’s impossible. And we will stop it. You have me here, I haven’t steered you wrong yet. I’ll find a way to help you.”
Jensen looked away, not wanting Jared to know how much that statement scared him. He’d heard lines like that before, so many times. He’d read them on so many scripts during the third season of Supernatural. And, after it all, Dean still died. And he still ended up suspended in Hell, screaming for Sam. As sure as Jared seemed, and as ridiculous as it was to think that the beliefs of the fans could send him to Hell, his mind was now open to the possibility. That opening was like a break in a dam, thoughts and emotions flooding through it, overpowering the stable structure until it collapsed.
And just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Crossroad Blues was playing again. Jared sounded so far away, telling him they’d find an answer, trying to sound reassuring. He’d forgotten so much about this episode, and his eyes widened in horror as he watched it again. He watched Sam trying to protect Evan Hudson in a circle of goofer dust. But the more they overshot Hudson’s deadline, the more ferocious the Hellhounds became. Jensen’s heart hammered in his chest, and he gripped Jared’s arm in a white-knuckled hold as he watched the circle of dust get blown away and broken by the invisible Hellhounds. One of Ruby’s lines from the season finale suddenly came back to him: “That dust won’t last forever!”
Jensen was out of bed faster than he thought he could move, everything a blur until he found himself on the floor in Jared’s bathroom, hunched over the toilet. He could hear growling behind him, and his body heaved violently, his stomach emptying itself of any and all contents it held. He jerked when Jared’s hand settled on his back, unable to cry out as he gasped for breath. Jared rubbed his back in soothing circles as he continued to heave, tears blinding his vision.
“Breathe,” Jared pleaded softly. “Breathe, Jensen.”
“I…I ca-” Jensen was cut off by a wheezing sob, trying desperately to get his body under control, panic setting in.
“You have to,” Jared said urgently, pulling Jensen back to him and wiping away the sweat that had collected on Jensen’s face with a cool washcloth, removing his glasses, which had miraculously not fallen off, when they got in the way.
Jensen leaned back against Jared, the hand that had been on his back now wrapping around to rub gently at his chest.
“Breathe, Jensen.”
Jared kept repeating it like a mantra, and Jensen tried his best to listen, to focus. His brain alternated between moments of control and moments of panic. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but his muscles eventually began to feel lax, and he fell limply into Jared, who shifted to hold his weight. He didn’t even move when Jared pushed forward, leaning up to flush the toilet, and then settled back down.
“Sorry,” he whispered, throat raw, suddenly aware that he’d just puked his guts up in his best friend’s bathroom.
“Shh…” And damn, if Jensen were feeling at all normal right now, he’d kill Jared for shushing him like a girl, hand still rubbing his chest. “Don’t be.”
Part of him wanted to move, to stop acting so childish and fucking cuddling with Jared on the bathroom floor. He was a 30-year-old man, for Christ’s sake. But the slow, circular rhythm of Jared’s hand brought him an odd sense of comfort, the thought of separating from the warmth of Jared’s body making him feel more vulnerable than he already was. He pressed back against Jared, an embarrassing betrayal of his body, and sighed, something inside of him falling dull and numb.
“I’m going to die,” he said slowly, trying the words out on his lips and testing the sound of his voice saying them. He felt nothing, felt blank, as if all he was doing was simply stating the obvious. “I’m going to die.”
Jared wrapped both arms around him then, holding him so tight that he lost his breath once more.
“Don’t say that,” Jared whispered harshly in his ear. “Don’t you ever say that.”
“I’m not safe,” Jensen stated calmly, head rolling back and forth on Jared’s chest. “Not here or anywhere. Nothing can protect me. Not forever.”
“We don’t need forever, alright?” Jared huffed, pushing Jensen off of him and turning him around to look at him, his hands fisted in Jensen’s shirt. “We can figure this out sooner. I mean, there’s obviously some sort of delay, right? You didn’t…The Hellhounds didn’t get you right when the season finale aired. It took some time for them to attack you. So, this delay, this lag, whatever it is, it gives us time to figure this out before the Hellhounds are able to destroy the dust and the Devil’s Shoestring.”
“How much time?” Jensen asked, surprised by his own voice. He guessed it was the Dean in him that jumped to join in on the investigation. Other than that, he wasn’t sure what had made him sound so hopeful. With what he’d just learned, he felt as though the last of his hopes had just been dashed.
“Enough,” Jared assured him. “We’ll have enough. I promise.”
Chapter 4: Breakfast and Bathrooms
Chapter 2: Blood and Dust
Chapter 3: Cereal and Stitches
Jensen woke up with his muscles aching. He couldn’t move much with his leg in the condition it was, and his body was beginning to protest being stuck in the same position for so many hours. He groaned and stretched his arms, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand next to the bed and wondering if Jared was still asleep. A light knock on the open door answered his question, and he looked up to see Jared in the doorway, stretching and yawning.
“Y’alright?” Jared drawled tiredly, eyelids still heavy, as he absentmindedly lifted his shirt with one hand to scratch at his stomach. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Jensen grunted, squirming beneath the sheets. He stilled, the shock of realizing he was still only dressed in a towel causing his cheeks to redden slightly. “Uh…just…just kind of aching now. Need a new position, you know?” He held up a hand when Jared immediately moved to help him sit up. “No! No, I-I got it.” Wincing a bit in pain and catching his bottom lip in his teeth, he hauled himself up into a sitting position. “Thanks,” he added awkwardly, eyes flicking up to glance at Jared.
“You know, I was thinking,” Jared started, moving over to his bureau and pulling clothes out of random drawers, “Now that you can leave the bed with that jewelry on, we can go to the hospital and get that leg taken care of. We probably should’ve done it yesterday.” He turned to Jensen, pretending to smile shyly at him, lowering his head and looking up at him through his bangs. “Could you avert your eyes?” He giggled girlishly, reaching down and popping the button on his jeans.
“Like you could ever be that innocent, Padalecki,” Jensen said, grinning and rolling his eyes.
“I’m not. That. Innocent!” Jared sing-songed, pulling his jeans open wide and striking a pose.
“Oh!” Jensen turned away, laughing. “Thank God you weren’t going commando. I’d be traumatized for life. And if you ever sing Britney Spears again, I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, though, Jensen.” Jensen turned back just in time to see Jared zipping up a new pair of jeans. “We need to get your leg taken care of, professionally. Those cuts are deep.” He pulled his shirt off and dragged another one down over his head. “And we need to do it as soon as possible.”
Jensen knew Jared was right, and he knew that the charms he was wearing had worked so far. He fought the familiar feelings of fear and anxiety stirring in the pit of his stomach. The thought of venturing out of Jared’s house to get to the hospital felt less safe, somehow, like he’d be so much more vulnerable and exposed out in the open air.
“We can’t,” he found himself saying, Jared staring at him in disbelief. And he wasn’t sure if he was actually following logic or just looking for an excuse when he continued speaking. “I mean…what would we tell people? How would we explain what happened to me, and why we let it sit for this long?” Jared’s expression crumpled, and Jensen kept going, feeling both concerned for his own health and relieved that he could hold this off for at least a little while longer. “Think about it, man. We show up at the hospital, you with a freakin’ shiner, and me with a leg clawed up by something clearly not of this world, and we say, ‘Oops, we didn’t realize we should have come here right away’? How will that not make anybody suspicious?”
“Do we have any other options?” Jared dropped down on the bed beside Jensen, sighing. “I’m just afraid of what might happen to your leg if we don’t get it taken care of properly.”
“Me too,” Jensen admitted. “But unless we know anyone who’d be willing to take care of this without asking questions or spreading the word, we have to let it go.”
“What about Tracy?” Jared asked, looking hopeful. “I mean, come on, when has anybody in our crew ever let us down?”
“Never,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “But you really think we can ask her to do this? I still don’t know what we would tell her, and even if we got her to come out here…She’s a set medic, Jared. We’re not on set. She’s not on duty. You don’t think that, if someone found out, she could lose her job over this?”
Jared groaned in frustration and pushed off of the bed, arms crossing over his chest as he stared out the window. He waited a few moments, standing in silence, then reached down to the clip on his jeans, drawing out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Jensen watched suspiciously as Jared flipped the phone open, scrolling through numbers.
“I’m calling her,” Jared answered simply, pressing the phone to his ear.
“What?!” Jensen scrambled to get out of bed, but froze when Jared began speaking, his voice cheery and smooth.
“Hey! Tracy! It’s Jared!”
Jensen fell back on the bed, throwing the covers over his face, his hands balling into fists, mouth going dry. There was no way this could end well.
“I’m awesome, sweetie, how are you? Great, great. Listen, I need to ask you for a huge, huge favor. And I understand if you can’t do it. But Jensen, he’s hurt...”
If Jensen hadn’t been so anxious, he would’ve allowed himself to smile at the way Jared’s voice dropped seamlessly into such a pathetic, pleading tone. The sound of it created a mental image of the puppy eyes everyone adored in Sam. It was nearly irresistible, and if Jared was any other person, Jensen would think he was a complete douche bag for being so underhanded and swindling everyone into doing what he wanted them to do. But, since Jared was Jared, the big loving goofball who only ever used his “powers” to seemingly make the world a better place, it was alright. Jensen knew from experience that, whenever Jared used that tone, and you’d reluctantly give in, you’d always end up thanking him for it in the end. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, Jared was only trying to coax you into doing something that would end up being more fun than you thought, something that would help you relax, and feel a bit more carefree. This moment just happened to be that one-tenth of a percent of the time in which Jared was attempting to pull someone into something a lot more serious. And even now, it was to help someone in need. If there was anything Jensen had ever envied about his costar, it was his selflessness.
“Yeah, yeah, this…this thing happened, and his leg got torn up pretty bad. No, no, he’s alright, it’s just…I’ve been taking care of him, and I think he might need more help than I can give him. Aw, it’s, it’s stupid, really. It was my fault.”
Jensen pulled the covers down and stared at Jared, who hadn’t yet turned back from the window.
“We were out, you know, at Shebeen, and when we left, I saw this stray. You know me, I decide we have to save the damn thing before it gets hit by a car or somethin’, ya know? Jensen just wanted to get home and crash, but my stupid drunk ass grabs him and makes for the dog. Turns out, the thing wasn’t as harmless as it seemed. It was actually pretty vicious. But I’m too slow to react, and I’ve got a hold of Jensen, and when the dog comes at us, it jumps up on him, and its claws just tear into his leg.”
He listened to Jared ramble, realizing that it was actually a good thing that Jared was rambling. It was what Jared did when he got started on a story, nothing out of the ordinary about it. With anybody else, you’d think they were just spinning yarns. But Jared seemed to always be the exception to the rule. He listened through the explanation of the two of them being too drunk to realize that a hospital was necessary, how they didn’t want to ruin their reputations on something so stupid because they were still good guys, and could Tracy please, please help them out? And through it all, Jensen found that the one thing that bothered him the most was that Jared blamed himself.
“I know what this could mean for you, and I absolutely understand if you can’t. We just figured if there was anybody we could trust to take good care of this and not tell anyone, it would be you.”
That was it. She was hooked. Jared was thanking her profusely and blurting out his address before Jensen could even blink.
“It worked,” Jared said, flipping his phone closed and turning to Jensen with Sam’s puppy eyes still intact.
“Dude,” Jensen patted the spot beside him on the bed, “Sit the fuck down.”
“Look, I’m sorry for calling her, but it was the only choice we had left!”
“That’s not what this is about.” Jared’s wide-eyed apology turned to confusion, and he cautiously approached the bed and sat down, facing Jensen. “Please tell me that what you just told her was nothing but a story, and that you don’t feel that way in real life.”
“Wha-Which part?” Jared stuttered, taken aback by the stern tone of Jensen’s voice.
“The part where you told her that what happened to me was your fault. The part where I only get clawed up because you thought the ‘dog,’” Jensen didn’t even fight the urge to use air quotes, “was harmless, and you held me down while it did its damage.”
“It’s not like that isn’t what happened.” Jared’s eyes flitted around the room, eventually settling on the wall beside the bed. “I didn’t believe you, I held you down, and you were attacked. That’s pretty clearly my fault.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jensen spat, waiting for Jared to make eye contact again before continuing. “That’s bullshit, Jared. Things would’ve ended up a whole lot worse if you weren’t here. You don’t blame yourself for anything that happens to me, you got that?”
“Yeah.” A half-smile tugged at the corner of Jared’s lips, and he nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Okay.” Jensen’s expression softened, and he reached a hand up to ruffle Jared’s hair, Jared playfully smacking his hand away. “Now, I’m a bit naked under here, so if you wouldn’t mind bringing me some clothes…”
“I’ll just get outta here, let you grab what you want out of your suitcase.” Jared stood, crossing over to the door, hand on the knob. “Let me know if you need help. I’ll be right outside the door.”
Jensen nodded and waited for Jared to close the door before swinging his leg off of the bed and hobbling over to his suitcase. When he opened it, he was hit with an unexpected swell of emotions. When he’d called Jared, asking him to come back to Vancouver, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it through another day. He thought that, by now, he’d either be completely batshit insane or dead. Instead, he was here, in Jared’s house, suddenly feeling better and safer than he had since all of this started.
The inside of his suitcase was packed full of clothes. They were rolled, folded, and lined up just the way his mother would have packed them, with meticulous care. He brought a hand to his mouth, embarrassed (even though he was alone) by how the sight of it caused a lump to rise in his throat and tears to spring to his eyes. God, he was a mess. But last night, he’d spent the first night in months without a Hellhound hovering close by, and he’d woken up to this, this level of care and protection. They were far from figuring all of this out, and neither of them knew how or if they could fix it. But, even with the looming uncertainty of how it would end, Jensen knew that there was no possible way he could ever thank Jared enough for what he’d already done.
He coughed and swallowed, sniffling as he pulled the clothes he’d need out of his suitcase. He blinked back the tears, pushing his emotions back down where they belonged. There was no way he’d ever let Jared see him crying over a fucking packed suitcase. With some difficulty, he managed to dress himself, cursing when the pain shot up his leg again. He heard a soft knock on the door before it opened a crack.
“Jensen?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You look comfy,” Jared commented, pushing the door open wider.
“Yeah.” Jensen glanced down at the sweatpants he’d thrown on. “I figured these’d be easier to roll up over the bandages so she can have at it.”
“Good idea. Now why don’t you shave, so you don’t look so much like a hobo?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jensen said thoughtfully, brushing his hand over his cheek and feeling more than just a little stubble there. “Wow. It’s been way too long. I guess I should look a little less crazed and a little more like me if we’ll be facing Tracy soon, huh?”
“Yep!” Jared nodded, heading for the stairs. “Call me if you need anything.”
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Jared patted his dogs, the two of them still anxious and subdued. Glancing around the living room, his eyes widened when he noticed the stain on the carpet by the door. Shit, he’d forgotten to clean up the blood. If anything would look suspicious, that would. Rushing into the kitchen, he grabbed some cleaning supplies, dousing the carpet with fluid and scrubbing as hard as he possibly could. It was times like this that Jared cursed himself for having a beige carpet, the deep color of Jensen’s blood seaming to spread to a wider area as he scrubbed. He jumped when he heard a slight groan, startled by the sudden break in the silence. He turned around to see a clean-shaven Jensen just reaching the bottom of the stairs, face twisted in pain, one hand clutching the rail while the other held the bottle of Motrin.
“Dude!” Jared stood immediately, dropping his sponge and moving towards Jensen, wrapping an arm around him for support. “I would’ve helped you.”
“I’m alright,” Jensen insisted, but leaned into Jared to take some weight off of his leg. “Oh, crap.” He stared at the blood-tinted patch of carpet by the door. “I completely forgot about that.”
“I’m not sure I can get it all out, since I let it dry,” Jared said worriedly. “Think it could pass for red wine?”
“What am I, Jesus?” Jensen joked, moving away from Jared to spread his arms out wide. “This is my blood!”
“Oookay,” Jared said slowly, grabbing Jensen and leading him to the dining room. “Good to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” He laughed when Jensen winked at him and wandered into the kitchen. “How about cereal?”
“Sounds fine.” Jensen pulled a chair out for himself and sat down, setting the bottle of Motrin down on the table. Jared came back in and set two boxes, two bowls, two spoons, and some milk down on the table. Grabbing a bowl and spoon for himself, Jensen grasped at the boxes, raising an eyebrow at Jared when he read the front of the first one. “Fruity Pebbles?”
“Why not?” Jared grabbed the box from him and poured a liberal amount of cereal into his bowl, filling any free space with milk, so that a few splashes and sugary bits spilled over the edges when he sat down and stuck his spoon in. “They’re good.”
Jensen smiled at his friend, shaking his head fondly when Jared dove into his overflowing bowl. He glanced at the other box on the table. Cheerios, always the safe bet. He eyed the box of Fruity Pebbles in front of Jared, suppressing laughter when Jared’s only move to catch the milk dribbling down his chin was to scoop it back up into his mouth with his spoon, staying hunched over the bowl the entire time. Briefly wondering if Jared was even breathing, Jensen grabbed the box and poured some of the multicolored cereal into his own bowl. He’d only eaten maybe two spoonfuls when Jared reached over, taking the box back and shaking out another full bowl. He grinned and continued eating, wondering how he’d ever managed to allow the Hellhound’s presence to interfere with Jared’s. He could feel it there now, in the room, but he focused on Jared as a welcome distraction, finally learning to block out the evil that surrounded him.
“Where are the dogs?” he asked, swallowing his last bit of food and looking around the room.
“Um,” Jared wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “They’re…” He trailed off and nodded to a corner of the living room, visible from where they were sitting, the dogs huddled together and backed up against the wall.
“Oh.” Jensen stood, taking his bowl out to the sink and pouring himself a glass of water. Swallowing down a few pills, he walked back out to the living room, reaching out to the dogs. “Hey, guys…”
It was more than disturbing when both Harley and Sadie growled and scattered before he could touch them. A shiver ran through him, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. Suddenly the Hellhound wasn’t so easy to ignore. He closed his eyes, trying to shut it out. He knew that the dogs were reacting to the Hellhound, not him. But it still made him feel even more like a marked man. He was marked by death, and it was quite literally following him. Jared’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch, his voice bringing him back to reality.
“They’ve been weird ever since I let it in here,” Jared said, moving his hand to rub it up and down Jensen’s back. “Just…don’t worry about it, okay?”
Jensen’s response was cut off by the doorbell, the dogs barking from the back of the house, and he felt rather thankful for the interruption, knowing that snapping at Jared and telling him that “not worrying about it” was a hell of a lot easier said than done wouldn’t help matters any. They looked at each other, simultaneously taking deep breaths, and Jared moved to answer the door.
“Hey, Tracy,” Jared greeted the petite blond, hugging her tightly before letting her enter. “Thank you so much for doing this. You don’t even know how much this means to us.”
“Yeah,” Jensen cut in, running a shaky hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of the change in its length, a few messy strands beginning to fall into his eyes. He bent to hug her, hoping the rest of his body wasn’t shaking too badly. “We really can’t thank you enough.”
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” Tracy said, lugging a large medical kit into the house with her. Jared closed the door behind her, and she turned to him, eyeing the bruise on his left cheekbone. “You boys get into a bar fight, too?”
“No! No,” Jared said, grinning through the slight flush on his cheeks. “You know me, I’m always hurting myself. Just clumsy, I guess.” He caught Jensen shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye.
“Okay,” she sighed, looking over at Jensen. “Let’s get a look at that leg.”
Jensen found himself positioned awkwardly on the floor, right pant leg rolled up, Tracy opening up her medical kit and joining him on the floor. As she descended, her eyes caught on the stain by the door, and she froze.
“Is that…blood?”
Both Jensen and Jared stiffened, sharing a glance between them. Jensen kept his eyes averted, while Jared started shaking his head.
“No.” He looked down at them from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest. “Just a bit of red wine.”
She stood back up, moving towards the spot, cleaning products still on the floor, and kicked at the sponge, turning it over so that the blood-darkened side stared up at her. Jared closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. This was more than fucked up.
“Oh my God.”
“Tracy, it’s not what you think,” Jared said calmly, hands up, palms out, and puppy eyes on full display for when she turned around and looked at him, her eyes wide and fearful, not unlike Jensen’s.
“Jared…” She shook her head slightly, backing up towards the door. “I-I don’t know if I can…”
“Please,” Jensen choked out from his spot on the floor, both Jared and Tracy turning to him. “Please,” he repeated, eyes wide and childlike, and damn was he channeling Jared. “This…It isn’t anything bad. I swear. We’re not mixed up in anything, it’s just, my leg was bleeding pretty badly when we got back here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Tracy challenged, eyes flicking to the door. “Why did you lie to me?”
“We just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Jensen said. “I’m sorry. I know how this looks, but please, you have to believe me, this isn’t what you think.”
“Tracy,” Jared cut in, hands folded and held out to her in a pleading gesture. “I know this is a risk for you, and believe me, I didn’t want to put you through that. There is no possible way I would ever have called you if we were mixed up in something worse than what this is. But this? This was just a stupid accident. That’s all. I’m sorry we lied, and I’m sorry we scared you. But I swear to you, on my life, that this isn’t anything even remotely dangerous.”
“You know us, Tracy,” Jensen said, looking for any sign that their pleas were having an effect on her. “Everyone knows us. You know we don’t get into trouble like that.”
Tracy swallowed, reaching behind her for the doorknob. She watched their faces fall in defeat as she opened the door wide. Then she walked back over to Jensen, crouching down on the floor next to him.
“You keep watch on that door,” she instructed Jared. “From right where you’re standing. That door stays open.” She continued to eye Jared warily as she pulled a pair of scissors from her kit.
Jared nodded, relieved, and stepped back, watching the door from a distance, leaving an open exit for her. He cursed himself for leaving the cleaning supplies on the floor, and his stomach twisted when he realized just how much they’d scared her. She wanted to make sure she had an open exit ready, incase…He shivered slightly, feeling more disgusted with himself than he ever had in his life.
Jensen lay still while Tracy cut the bandages off, watching her eyes widen when she saw the amount of blood that had seeped through the first set. He flinched when she pulled that first set of bandages off, the blood having all but glued them to his injured leg, a bit of fresh blood seeping out from the wounds with the aggravation. Shock registered on her face for a few seconds before she forced it away. She worked quietly, Jensen only aware of what she was doing because he watched her every move. He watched the cleaning process, the quick injection, the pull of every stitch. When she finished, she packed her supplies and stood, heading for the door.
“Thank you,” Jared said softly, and she turned to face him.
“That was no dog,” she said evenly. “I don’t know what happened here. I don’t even know why I helped you. But please don’t ever call me for anything like this again.”
“Tracy, I’m sorry.” Jensen moved to stand beside Jared, pant leg still rolled up, stitches visible. “I’m sorry.”
“Here.” Jared drew his wallet out and reached into it, handing her a wad of cash.
“No!” she stepped back, anger written on her features. “I don’t want your bribe.”
“It’s not a bribe,” Jared said, holding it out to her. “It’s for the work you did. And our thanks. I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t easy.”
Tracy hesitated, then nodded, finally taking the money and walking back to her car, Jared once again closing the door behind her. Jensen backed up and flopped down on the couch.
“I feel like so much shit.”
Jared felt just as broken as Jensen sounded. He sat down next to him and slung an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently. They said nothing, unaware of how much time had passed, until Jensen finally broke the silence.
“She was scared of us, Jared. We fucking scared her.”
“I know.” Jared leaned back against the couch cushions. “God knows what she thinks of us now.”
“You think she’ll tell anybody?” Jensen asked, his chest tightening with worry.
“No.” Jared rolled his head back and forth on the couch. “She’d have as much to lose as we would, if not more.”
“Oh, that’s just wonderful.” Jensen shrugged away from Jared and stood, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a headache. They’d just crossed a line to deceit and blackmail, a path he’d never wanted to take. His life was spinning out of control, and he hated it, hated how lost it made him feel, hated himself for letting things get this far. He’d never felt so uncomfortable in his own skin before, feeling his sanity slip a little more when he acknowledged that feeling. He wanted to forget about it, push it away. Before he knew it, he was pushing it onto Jared, accusatory words flowing past his lips. “Tell me again how you thought this was necessary?”
“What?” Jared got to his feet, arms crossing over his chest. “So, now it’s only me who thought it was necessary?”
“Well, you’re the one who went ahead and called her!” Jensen blurted out, turning on Jared. If he were smart, or at least mentally stable, the look Jared gave him would have made him stop, but he just couldn’t seem to shut up, continuing on with biting sarcasm. “Oh, and by the way, good job with the sponge!”
Jared’s face turned ten different shades of red, his arms stiffly descending to his sides, fists clenching. Jensen could feel the tension in Jared, could see that Jared wanted to hit him, and he almost wanted him to. He knew he was wrong, he knew he’d screwed up for the millionth time, and he was so disgusted with himself for what happened with Tracy that he wanted Jared to be that angry with him. He wanted that blow to come, that pain. He deserved it. He was ten seconds away from screaming at Jared to just go ahead and fucking hit him when Jared let loose.
“You know what?” Jared’s hand rose, Jensen preparing himself for the impact, feeling a strange sense of disappointment when Jared merely pointed an angry finger at him. “I’m sick of this fucking attitude! I’m your best friend when I’m fucking saving your life and carrying you out of the shower, but one mistake and you fucking crucify me for it! You know, I’ve put up with a lot from you for the past couple of months, and if you’re gonna keep on being a dick, you can go the fuck home and take care of yourself! I never should have saved your sorry ass in the first place!”
Well, damn. Jensen unconsciously pressed a hand to his stomach, cradling it as if recovering from a strong blow. The temporary shock wore off, and he slowly began rubbing his stomach, nausea creeping up on him. While Jared hadn’t physically touched him, the words had hit him like a punch, and he could feel their essence mingling with the other sentiments bubbling beneath his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in, telling himself he deserved this.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Jared staring back at him, eyes wide and jaw dropped, an apology already written on his face. Jensen hated it. He hated that expression. Jared shouldn’t feel bad, he shouldn’t be sorry. He was right. He shouldn’t have to put up with Jensen’s mood swings. Jensen deserved this.
“You’re right,” Jensen said, before Jared could speak. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You don’t even have to say anything. I’m fucked up. You don’t need to deal with that.”
He paused, worrying his bottom lip. It hurt, Jared kicking him out. It hurt knowing he wouldn’t have the added sense of security that Jared provided, as well as the company. But he never should have dragged Jared into this in the first place. And Jared was right. He could take care of himself. It was something neither of them had spoken of since they’d found out that the jewelry he was wearing would protect him from Hellhounds. He could leave now. He didn’t need to keep Jared out of his bed, his room. Until now, they’d had this unspoken agreement between them that they’d go through this together. But they certainly didn’t have to.
“I’ll go get my stuff together.” He forced the words out, tried his best to sound okay with it all. The last thing he wanted was to sound pathetic enough to lay another guilt trip on Jared. “I’ll call myself a cab, and I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”
“No!” Jared grabbed him by the arm as he made for the stairs. “Jesus, no. You don’t think I really meant that?” Jensen stared back at him, trying to keep his expression blank.
“It’s okay if you did.”
“Christ, Jensen! How could you think that?” Jared’s eyes were on him, moving back and forth, as if he was trying to read the answer off of Jensen’s features. “You think I’m that cold-blooded?”
“No,” Jensen said, honestly surprised that Jared had taken this as an insult. This had nothing to do with Jared. Jared was anything but cold-blooded. “No, of course I don’t.”
“What’s wrong with you, man?” Jared asked, scrutinizing him with concern. “What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” Jensen didn’t smile or answer, and Jared sighed in resignation, pulling him in for a quick, tight hug. “Look, what just happened…We both screwed up. We both feel like shit, and we’re both guilty. I know what I just said, but there’s no way I’m letting you out of this house. Not now. Not when I know what’s going on. It’s better if we stick together.” He stared at Jensen for a minute, his hands gently rubbing Jensen’s arms, trying to convey the fact that he wasn’t just saying this out of pity or guilt. When Jensen wordlessly started leaning to his left, Jared looked down at his stitches, abruptly changing the subject. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s alright,” Jensen replied after a beat, the newly masochistic side of him thankful that Jared hadn’t continued, not wanting him to completely erase the hurt he knew he deserved to feel. “It should heal faster now, I guess.”
Jared nodded, then grabbed for his phone when it jingled on his hip. He opened it up when he saw that he’d gotten a text message from Megan, and groaned when he read the words on the screen.
You haven’t called. Mom’s calling Ackles.
“Shit,” Jared cursed, closing the phone and setting it back in its clip. Jensen raised an eyebrow at him. “We need a story, and fast.”
“What?” Jensen asked, his blank stare turning to confusion. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t call your mother right now, she’ll probably be on the first plane here,” Jared answered, watching Jensen’s eyes widen as he spoke. “And she’ll probably kick my ass.”
“I-I don’t,” Jensen stuttered. “How does she know-”
“Well, I kind of left my family’s house in the middle of the night,” Jared explained. “They know I came back here for you. They know something’s up. I told them not to say anything until I found out what was wrong, but apparently my mom thinks I’m taking too long. She’s about to call your family’s house.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jared sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jensen toy with his cell phone, leg wrapped and propped up on the pillows again.
“Jared, I don’t wanna talk to anybody.”
“You have to,” Jared said for what seemed like the millionth time. But he continued to be patient, painfully aware of how trapped Jensen felt right now.
“They’ll know.”
“They’ll know that what? That Hellhounds are chasing you?” Jared chuckled softly, hoping to see at least a trace of a smile on Jensen’s lips. It didn’t happen. “Come on man,” he encouraged. “You can do this. You’re Dean fucking Winchester.”
Something sparked in Jensen’s eyes, and his expression changed slightly. Jared recognized Dean as soon as he saw him, and he stood, knowing Jensen would be able to tough this one out, now.
“I’ll be in the shower.”
Jensen nodded briefly, pushing a few buttons and bringing the phone to his ear, a gruff tentative “Mom?” sounding in the room as Jared closed the door behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Baby, I know, I’m sorry.”
Jared reentered the room quietly, feeling bad for intruding on Jensen’s conversation, but he needed to get dressed. Jensen glanced nervously at him as he crossed the room in his towel, heading for his bureau. He kept his back to Jensen and kept quiet, throwing clothes on as quickly as possible.
“Alright, alright, I won’t. I know I should have. It’s just…Of course I love you…Just-”
Jared’s heart sank. He knew that tone. He knew the sounds of a breakup all too well. Shit. He turned towards Jensen slowly, hearing the phone snapping shut. She’d hung up on him.
“Danneel?” he asked quietly. Jensen nodded, staring down at his hands. “I’m sorry, man.”
“It’s okay.” Jensen shrugged. “It’s my fault. I messed up. I know that.”
“Dude, come on.” Jared sat down on the bed beside him, wet hair falling into his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I know how you feel right now.”
“Yeah.” Jensen frowned. “About that…”
“What about it?”
“I got your messages, Jared,” Jensen said, looking up at him. “All of them.”
It took Jared a minute to realize what Jensen was talking about. Then the barrage of messages he’d left Jensen weeks ago came rushing back to him, suddenly remembering how hurt he’d been to not receive a response.
“So why didn’t you call me back?”
“I didn’t wanna talk,” Jensen answered, shrugging again. “I was afraid to, just like now. Thought that you’d be able to tell I’d gone insane just from the sound of my voice.” He paused, reaching for Jared’s shoulder. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry about not calling you back, about you and Sandy, about not being there for you. There’s really no excuse for that.”
“Apology accepted,” Jared said, some part of him feeling relieved that Jensen had finally acknowledged his own personal pain. Still, the relief was somewhat overshadowed by his concern for Jensen, whose mood had suddenly changed again.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love having the honest and calm Jensen that he was used to back, because he did. But should Jensen really be so calm and accepting at a time like this? Jared silently worried that he’d let the subject of his tirade drop too easily, and he wondered if he should have pressed Jensen more for answers about why he’d think Jared actually meant the horrible things he’d said. The fact that Jensen had accepted that so easily set off warning bells in the form of a strange chill running down his spine. But, maybe this was normal. Jensen was bound to be a bit “fucked up,” as he himself put it. When you’ve been dodging Hellhounds for months, irrational thoughts and mood swings are probably a given. Besides, if anything really went wrong with Jensen, Jared would know it. There wasn’t much Jensen could hide from him when he was living in Jared’s house.
“So…how are you?” Jensen asked awkwardly, his soft drawl breaking into Jared’s thoughts. “I mean, with everything that happened?”
“Um,” Jared started, “I’m okay, I guess. To tell you the truth, I haven’t even thought about it much since all of this started. But it was a thought-out decision, you know, for both of us. We weren’t rash about it, or anything.”
“That’s what you’re giving me?” Jensen smiled at him knowingly. “That’s the answer you gave the fans, dude.”
“What?” Jared asked, head cocked curiously to one side, slowly returning Jensen’s smile. “How do you know that? And it’s not like it wasn’t the truth, man. I didn’t lie to them.”
Jensen hesitated, nervously rubbing his hands together and looking away. He stopped smiling, a bit of color rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.
“I watched you,” he said quietly. When Jared looked at him quizzically, he continued. “People, uh, fans, they, they upload their videos from the conventions online, and I wanted to see how you were doing.” He briefly made eye contact with Jared, cheeks reddening a bit more. “You handled it really well. I was proud of you. I wanted to tell you that. I should have.”
Jared felt a blinding grin coming on, all of his worries suddenly vanishing with Jensen’s confession. He realized now how stupid it was, at the time, to think that Jensen was just being a selfish prick. Jensen was always looking out for him, in one way or another. And he couldn’t help but feel a bit cocky when he realized that, even though Jensen was being driven to the brink of insanity by fucking Hellhounds, he’d taken the time to check up on Jared like a crazed fangirl stalker.
“Dude, say something!” Jensen blurted out, twitching nervously. “I just poured my heart out like I’m on the fucking Lifetime channel, and you’re just sitting there grinning at me! Or, better yet, don’t say anything. Just…Fuck, I don’t know! Go get us some beers!”
Laughing loud enough for Jensen to hear him the entire time, Jared ran down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers out of the fridge, filling the dogs’ bowls up while he was down there, relieved to see them finally eating. Heading back into the bedroom, he held a beer out for Jensen to take unable to resist batting his eyelashes and saying, “Here you go, sweetie,” before sprawling next to Jensen on the bed. He could see the glare Jensen was giving him out of the corner of his eye, but was also aware of the smirk that played at the edge of Jensen’s lips. He didn’t know how they still managed to have fun when so much chaos was surrounding them, but he knew that if they didn’t, they would have both collapsed under the strain by now. And hell, if Sam and Dean could do it, so could they.
“So, how’d everything else go?” Jared asked, pausing to swallow a large gulp of beer. “What did you tell everybody?”
“Well, needless to say, everybody’s probably more worried than before, because of how vague I was,” Jensen answered, toying with the label on his bottle. “Dude, I’m such a fucking mama’s boy. She’s so worried, man. I hear her voice, and how upset she is, and part of me – the part that’s not insane – wants to hop the first flight home and just hug her, and tell her that everything’s fine.” Jensen raised the bottle to his lips to take a swig, sighing heavily, Jared’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “But I can’t do that. I’d be too afraid to, anyway. So, I just tell her that I’m going through something right now. I’ve hit a rough patch. I tell her that I don’t want to see her. Fuck, man!” Jared tightened his grip on Jensen’s shoulder. “What kind of person tells his mother that he doesn’t want to see her?”
“Someone who has no other choice,” Jared answered easily, letting his arm slip around Jensen’s shoulders, leaning into him. Jensen let his head fall back against the headboard, welcoming the touch.
“I told her I couldn’t see anybody, and that I needed some time on my own,” Jensen continued. “I told her that I was only with you because you were the only one who could understand, since you’d been through something like this before. And then I told her not to worry; that I’d call her and keep her updated, and I’d come see her and the rest of the family when this was over.”
Jared nodded quietly, the two of them simultaneously lifting their bottles to their lips. He didn’t ask if Jensen had called anyone else. He didn’t ask what he’d tried to tell Danneel, or what she’d said back. He was pretty sure he knew the answers, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I could watch it myself, and let you know what I find out.”
Jensen shook his head. He was grateful for Jared’s offer, but he wanted to be there, to see it for himself. Jared put the DVD in and joined him on the bed, selecting Crossroad Blues from the episode menu. Jensen fidgeted, adjusting Jared’s laptop in his lap, glasses still perched on his nose. He could always distract himself with something online. It was unsettling, just how conflicted he was. They wouldn’t know how to fix this unless they looked for answers. He knew that, and he wanted to find a way to get the Hellhounds off his tail. At the same time, he dreaded the answers they might find, wondering if there really was a way out of this. Knots twisted in his stomach as he thought of what it would be like if he had to live the rest of his life fighting off Hellhounds. The idea itself was almost suffocating.
He half watched and half researched on his own, surfing the internet. But most of the time, he listened. He didn’t remember what website he was on, and didn’t really know what he was looking at. But he heard the sounds of the Hellhounds trying to burst in through the door, the sound of Robert Johnson choking on his own blood. He didn’t realize just how tense he was until Jared scooted closer, pressing against him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relaxing into Jared’s warmth. He could do this. He was Dean fucking Winchester.
While Sam and Dean dug around at the crossroads outside Lloyd’s, Jensen became more preoccupied with the laptop, his search for answers having to do with the show and its lore taking him to places he hadn’t expected. He examined symbols more closely, read with more intent, and he could feel that he was close to figuring something out. Finally, it clicked, and just when Dean summoned the Crossroads Demon to get Evan Hudson out of his deal, he asked Jared to pause the DVD.
“Dude, I think I found something.”
“Really?” Jared paused the episode and leaned over Jensen’s shoulder to peer at the laptop. “What did you find?” He frowned when his eyes followed Jensen’s finger pointing to the screen. “A fansite? Are you serious?”
“Do you remember that?” Jensen pointed to the graphics on the site, one symbol in particular. “Do you know what it is?” Jared shook his head, and Jensen clicked on the next tab in the browser, pointing out a description on another fansite. “This is the same Tibetan spirit sigil that was used in Hell House.”
“Okay…” Jared leaned back and gave him a puzzled look. “So?”
“So,” Jensen prompted, “You remember what that episode was about?”
Jared paused, thinking, and Jensen was just about to start humming the Jeopardy theme when he saw Jared’s eyes light up.
“The tulpa!” Jared exclaimed, grinning triumphantly. Jensen rolled his eyes. “But what does that have to do with your situation?”
“Read this,” Jensen said simply, flipping back to the first site he’d showed Jared and pushing the laptop towards him.
The updates on the site, as well as the message boards, were teeming with fans heartbroken over Dean’s death. They couldn’t get over seeing him ripped to shreds by Helhounds. They loved the character, believed in the character. And now, they believed that that character was dead; killed by Hellhounds. And they were all converging on this site, and God knew how many others, to strengthen those beliefs and discuss the traumatic season finale. This site just happened to feature the Tibetan spirit sigil as part of its design.
“So…they believe this,” Jared said, beginning to catch on. “And since you’re Dean…My God, you think?”
“It’s the only thing that would make sense right now.” Jensen shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t make a deal. So far, from what we’ve seen in this episode, you have to make a deal to have a Hellhound on your tail. And these people…some of them are even questioning whether or not I’m coming back.”
“Jesus,” Jared breathed. “How the hell do we fix that?”
“…Jared…”
Jensen had stopped wondering how they could fix it, another terrifying thought suddenly consuming him. He gulped, hands beginning to shake, Jared continuing to ramble next to him.
“I mean, it’s not like we can change what aired, and we can’t tell anybody else what’s happening, because we’ll both be thrown in straight jackets…”
“Jared!” Jensen shouted, voice more strung out than he expected it to be.
“What?” Jared finally turned to him, concern immediately flashing in his eyes as he took in Jensen’s appearance and tone. “What’s wrong?”
“They think Dean went to Hell, Jared.” He swore he could feel his throat closing up, and struggled to continue speaking, his hands beginning to shake more violently. “They think I went to Hell. If…If we can’t stop this…does that mean…”
He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, vaguely aware that he might be close to hyperventilating. Jared quietly set the laptop aside and grabbed Jensen’s hands, squeezing them in his own.
“No.” Jensen looked up at Jared, wondering how his friend could sound so sure of himself. “No, it can’t. It can’t go that far. They can’t just dream up your afterlife, that’s impossible. And we will stop it. You have me here, I haven’t steered you wrong yet. I’ll find a way to help you.”
Jensen looked away, not wanting Jared to know how much that statement scared him. He’d heard lines like that before, so many times. He’d read them on so many scripts during the third season of Supernatural. And, after it all, Dean still died. And he still ended up suspended in Hell, screaming for Sam. As sure as Jared seemed, and as ridiculous as it was to think that the beliefs of the fans could send him to Hell, his mind was now open to the possibility. That opening was like a break in a dam, thoughts and emotions flooding through it, overpowering the stable structure until it collapsed.
And just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Crossroad Blues was playing again. Jared sounded so far away, telling him they’d find an answer, trying to sound reassuring. He’d forgotten so much about this episode, and his eyes widened in horror as he watched it again. He watched Sam trying to protect Evan Hudson in a circle of goofer dust. But the more they overshot Hudson’s deadline, the more ferocious the Hellhounds became. Jensen’s heart hammered in his chest, and he gripped Jared’s arm in a white-knuckled hold as he watched the circle of dust get blown away and broken by the invisible Hellhounds. One of Ruby’s lines from the season finale suddenly came back to him: “That dust won’t last forever!”
Jensen was out of bed faster than he thought he could move, everything a blur until he found himself on the floor in Jared’s bathroom, hunched over the toilet. He could hear growling behind him, and his body heaved violently, his stomach emptying itself of any and all contents it held. He jerked when Jared’s hand settled on his back, unable to cry out as he gasped for breath. Jared rubbed his back in soothing circles as he continued to heave, tears blinding his vision.
“Breathe,” Jared pleaded softly. “Breathe, Jensen.”
“I…I ca-” Jensen was cut off by a wheezing sob, trying desperately to get his body under control, panic setting in.
“You have to,” Jared said urgently, pulling Jensen back to him and wiping away the sweat that had collected on Jensen’s face with a cool washcloth, removing his glasses, which had miraculously not fallen off, when they got in the way.
Jensen leaned back against Jared, the hand that had been on his back now wrapping around to rub gently at his chest.
“Breathe, Jensen.”
Jared kept repeating it like a mantra, and Jensen tried his best to listen, to focus. His brain alternated between moments of control and moments of panic. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but his muscles eventually began to feel lax, and he fell limply into Jared, who shifted to hold his weight. He didn’t even move when Jared pushed forward, leaning up to flush the toilet, and then settled back down.
“Sorry,” he whispered, throat raw, suddenly aware that he’d just puked his guts up in his best friend’s bathroom.
“Shh…” And damn, if Jensen were feeling at all normal right now, he’d kill Jared for shushing him like a girl, hand still rubbing his chest. “Don’t be.”
Part of him wanted to move, to stop acting so childish and fucking cuddling with Jared on the bathroom floor. He was a 30-year-old man, for Christ’s sake. But the slow, circular rhythm of Jared’s hand brought him an odd sense of comfort, the thought of separating from the warmth of Jared’s body making him feel more vulnerable than he already was. He pressed back against Jared, an embarrassing betrayal of his body, and sighed, something inside of him falling dull and numb.
“I’m going to die,” he said slowly, trying the words out on his lips and testing the sound of his voice saying them. He felt nothing, felt blank, as if all he was doing was simply stating the obvious. “I’m going to die.”
Jared wrapped both arms around him then, holding him so tight that he lost his breath once more.
“Don’t say that,” Jared whispered harshly in his ear. “Don’t you ever say that.”
“I’m not safe,” Jensen stated calmly, head rolling back and forth on Jared’s chest. “Not here or anywhere. Nothing can protect me. Not forever.”
“We don’t need forever, alright?” Jared huffed, pushing Jensen off of him and turning him around to look at him, his hands fisted in Jensen’s shirt. “We can figure this out sooner. I mean, there’s obviously some sort of delay, right? You didn’t…The Hellhounds didn’t get you right when the season finale aired. It took some time for them to attack you. So, this delay, this lag, whatever it is, it gives us time to figure this out before the Hellhounds are able to destroy the dust and the Devil’s Shoestring.”
“How much time?” Jensen asked, surprised by his own voice. He guessed it was the Dean in him that jumped to join in on the investigation. Other than that, he wasn’t sure what had made him sound so hopeful. With what he’d just learned, he felt as though the last of his hopes had just been dashed.
“Enough,” Jared assured him. “We’ll have enough. I promise.”
Chapter 4: Breakfast and Bathrooms
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 01:13 pm (UTC)Poor Tracy!!! and Jensen is so crazy and worry... he thinks he deserves punishment from Jared... wwwww... terrible words...
And Jensen HAS to phone family... and Daneel... ugggg...
My God!!! I love both of them!!!!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 08:50 pm (UTC)On to chapter 4!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 09:41 pm (UTC)Poor Tracy, although I was half expecting her to walk in and Jensen see that she was a demon or something, that would've been freaky. Not sure if it would fit in the the whole Tulpa thing though.
This is one hell of a situation, I wonder if the season starting again and the fans seeing that Dean's alive again would be enough to break the spell.
*runs for more*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 11:10 pm (UTC)I'm loving this - but I really need to go to bed. I am so happy, knowing I can pick this up tomorrow when I get home from work.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-22 12:50 am (UTC):P
no subject
Date: 2008-11-22 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-23 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-26 08:13 pm (UTC)And okay, now is Jensen exaggerating that bitchyness. Thankfully Jared is a really good guy.
BTW poor Tracy. She was so sacred. Doesn't she know the guys?
Anyway, that chap was intense and that outcomw...wow.
*goes on to the next*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-28 04:13 am (UTC)Yeah, Jensen's just really having a hard time dealing with everything. But Jared's awesome about it, so at least he has him there! :)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-01 09:23 pm (UTC)**sniff** Poor Jensen.
Running to 4....
no subject
Date: 2009-03-13 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 04:56 am (UTC)I liked the scene when they have their cereals and loved the moment, at the end of the chapter, in the bathroom when Jared is comforting Jensen who is aware of how he is being handled but still gives in to being comforted.
Thanks for writing this and sharing.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-08 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-10 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-15 05:33 am (UTC)I liked seeing Jensen taking strength from being Dean fucking Winchester, and then finding that it's the fangirl's mourning for Dean that have brought him to this place.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:22 am (UTC)Great job though.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-13 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-05 10:40 am (UTC)