Forty-Three Days (5/9)
Nov. 19th, 2008 09:57 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
Chapter 4: Breakfast and Bathrooms
Chapter 5: Doctors and Bracelets
Jared was beyond relieved when Jensen perked up on the way home, suddenly alert and excited again. It felt good to think that he had been right; that this script would change Jensen’s outlook on life. There was the initial shock of finding out what happened to Dean, of course. That had even affected Jared. But, with a full explanation and some more support, Jensen had bounced back, just as Jared expected him to. Jensen was strong, and Jared could get him through this. Just a little while longer and all of this would be over. When he felt the slightest sense of doubt still lingering, he pushed it away, ignoring it and taking in the new enthusiasm in Jensen’s expression. He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. He was actually playing a big part in saving his best friend’s life, and it was working.
Once they got home, Jared cornered Jensen in the bathroom, telling him to stay still while he checked on his leg. He carefully rolled Jensen’s pant leg up and unraveled the bandage they’d placed over the stitches, frowning at the black lines in Jensen’s skin.
“According to the internet, when dealing with a leg wound, stitches need to stay in for ten to fourteen days,” he said, frowning and eyeing the claw marks carefully. “I just don’t know if that still applies to you. The cuts were pretty deep.”
“Not to mention supernatural,” Jensen added with a smirk. “I don’t know that the general rules apply to wounds caused by Hellhounds.”
“Probably not,” Jared agreed. “Either way, they will have to come out at some point.”
“Yeah, but how? Not like we can call Tracy back here.”
“You can remove stitches by yourself, Jensen,” Jared answered, wrapping Jensen’s leg and fixing his pants before standing up to face him again. Jensen raised an eyebrow at him.
“Come again?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jared said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll take ‘em out for you when the time comes.” At Jensen’s apprehensive expression, Jared grinned happily. “According to Google, all I need are tweezers, scissors, some alcohol, and a magnifying glass!”
Jensen stared, that slight twitch at the edge of his lips that was imperceptible to everyone but Jared, stepped closer, and jabbed a finger directly into the middle of Jared’s chest.
“You are not touching my leg.”
“You don’t trust me?” Jared asked, pouting playfully.
“Of course I do,” Jensen said. “But you’re still not a doctor.”
“My brother is,” Jared retorted, as if he could somehow gain medical skills through his relationship with his brother. His eyes lit up, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “Hey…My brother is! God, I’m such an idiot!”
“No,” Jensen said immediately, shaking his head as he headed for the stairs. “No way.”
“Come on, man!” Jared followed Jensen down the stairs, settling next to him on the couch. “If there’s anybody I’d trust to do this, it’s Jeff.” Jensen shook his head again, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “Dude,” Jared huffed, a slight edge to his voice, “He’s my brother.”
“I know that, and I know you trust him,” Jensen said, turning away from the TV to face Jared. “I don’t mean anything by this, okay? No offense. I trust him, too. I’m not saying he’d rat us out publicly or anything. But our families are close, man. Shit, your mom called my house when it took too long for you to get back to her about me! One look at these injuries and our crappy story, and your brother will head straight to your parents, my parents, and then God knows what will happen.”
Jared narrowed his eyes at his friend. Damn Jensen Ackles and his damn logic. He wanted to be angrier, to protest more. This was his brother they were talking about, and Jared was fiercely protective of his family. But he couldn’t be. Especially not since he’d gone against Jensen’s wishes with Tracy, and look how well that turned out. He shuddered to think of his relationship with Jeff going off the deep end over some stitches that he could take out himself. And he could do it. He would if it came down to it; even if he had to knock Jensen out to do so.
“Fuck you,” Jared grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hey.” Jensen flicked the TV off and tossed the remote on the coffee table. “Come on, man, I said no offense! I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know that,” Jared sighed, his arms relaxing at his sides. “I just meant fuck you for being right all the damn time.”
Jensen patted Jared roughly on the back.
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole?”
“You have,” Jensen said, smiling when Jared pushed him away. “Many, many times. Anyway, we have another problem I hadn’t thought about before.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” Jared asked, not sure he really wanted to know. They had enough problems now as it was.
Jensen held his hands up, twisting his wrists back and forth, the beads on the bracelets glistening in the living room’s lamplight.
“I need to have these on,” he stated, expression set in stone. “I need these. But they’re not part of Dean’s wardrobe.”
Jared’s head hit the back of the couch. Christ. Nothing could ever be easy for them, could it?
“Okay.” Jared rolled his head to the side, eyeing Jensen. “So…Dean usually wears layers, right? No one will see them, anyway. The necklace can go under your shirt, the anklets obviously won’t be seen…”
“Okay, can we not call them anklets?” Jensen cut in, rolling his eyes.
“Well, what the hell else are we gonna call them?”
“I don’t know,” Jensen shrugged. “Ankle bracelets?”
“Yeah,” Jared said, glaring at Jensen. “That’s what we’re calling them now. It’s called an abbreviation, jackass. Ankle,” he raised one hand, “Bracelet,” he raised the other, “Ank-let,” he brought his hands together and enunciated each syllable carefully.
“…It’s better if you use both words,” Jensen mumbled, fidgeting in his seat.
“So, the ankle bracelets,” he rolled his eyes at Jensen, “won’t be seen. And the bracelets won’t be either, if you’re wearing your five shirts and your leather jacket.”
“That’s the thing,” Jensen said, picking up the script he’d thrown on the coffee table earlier and thrusting it at Jared, who took it in his hands. “The beginning of this episode has me in a t-shirt.” He held up his wrists again. “How do I hide these stupid things?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m not as good at this shit as you are, Sammy!” Jensen hissed. And Jared just had to laugh.
There was no doubt that it was true. Jensen couldn’t convince someone to agree to something as well as Jared could. Ever. Not that Jensen wasn’t sweet and honest, but Jared’s sweetness and honesty far surpassed his.
“I know,” Jared said, smirking. Jensen glared at him, and Jared just opened Jensen’s cell phone and dialed Kripke’s number, handing the ringing phone over to Jensen. “But you have to.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jensen’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to grab the phone, reaching to end the call for a second before frantically lifting the still ringing phone to his ear.
“You’re an actor, dude,” Jared laughed. “What do I keep telling you?”
“Mother fu-Eric!” Jensen’s curse switched over to the name in an instant, a big fake smile lighting up his face as he laughed nervously. “Hey! What’s goin’ on, man? Aw, nothin’, nothin’. Yeah, uh, listen…I was thinking…”
Jared grinned, but stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t start fiddling nervously with them. He listened intently, praying for Jensen to pull this off.
“So, Dean’s already got some jewelry and things that mean a lot to him, right? Well, wouldn’t you think he’d have some new things now that he’s out of Hell? No, no, listen. This angel…Castiel, right? He, uh, he pulls Dean out of Hell, and obviously sets him up with some new threads, since Dean isn’t naked or crawling out of his grave with shredded clothes. And, obviously, Castiel wants Dean to stick around to do whatever work he has for him, right? So, why wouldn’t Castiel bring Dean back with some more protective charms than he already had?”
Jared tried not to stare and freak Jensen out, but he couldn’t help but keep his gaze on the man, anxious to catch any sign that things weren’t going well; a twitch, too much blinking, a slight flush. Luckily, none of those things were showing yet, which meant Jensen was already reeling Eric in. So far, so good.
“Well, Jared and I were talking about it, actually, and we thought it would make sense if Dean woke up with some jewelry made out of the things that repel Hellhounds. You know, since Castiel pulled him out of there without Lilith’s consent. I know other demons and things are too afraid of the whole thing to mess with Dean, but these are just sort of mindless creatures out to do Lilith’s original bidding, you know? Really?”
Jensen’s eyes brightened, and his tone rose slightly with surprise and hope. Jared stilled completely, nearly holding his breath.
“Yeah…Well, actually, we were, uh, out the other day, and I found these bracelets that I think could really work. Sure, yeah, I’ll bring ‘em to set.” Jensen looked up at Jared, already looking ready to spring and celebrate. “Absolutely. No, no, thank you. Seriously.”
“Yeah?” Jared asked quietly when Jensen hung up and stared back at him. He laughed out loud when Jensen nodded silently and pulled him into a hug. “Fuck yeah! I told you it would work!” He clapped Jensen on the back as he pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m telling you, man, everything is working out great for us. There’s no reason we can’t get you through this.”
“You’re a genius, Jared,” Jensen said, returning the smile. “There’s no way I could’ve done this without you.”
Jared bounced on the balls of his feet, his hair flopping in his eyes. All of the major hurdles they had been facing were behind them now. Everything had worked out, and Jensen was genuinely happy and thanking him for it. He felt giddier than ever and had to resist the sudden ridiculous urge to grab Jensen’s face and kiss him, then run away laughing hysterically. It was all smooth sailing from here; patient waiting until Comic Con.
“You ready to start filming now?” Jared asked, his voice almost squeaking on the last word. Jensen smirked Dean’s smirk, his voice dropping a bit to match Dean’s.
“Absolutely.”
That night, Jensen tried to persuade Jared to trade places with him and take his bedroom back. But Jared wouldn’t have it. Maybe it was irrational, but there was something about disturbing the order of Jensen, the bed, the dust, and the Devil’s Shoestring that made him far too uneasy. He knew that it was all psychological, and that mixing up the order of things wouldn’t really reverse the luck they were having now, but he still wouldn’t take the chance. It just felt better, knowing Jensen was even more comfortable and protected when they were both asleep. Knowing that Jensen was that safe at night made sleeping on the couch more of a blessing than a curse. Besides, this way, he was closer to the front door and better able to protect Jensen from anything else that might burst in to come after him.
He still didn’t know how far this thing could go, really. He was assuming that, in this situation, the fans’ could only make things that didn’t exist before become reality. He didn’t believe they had the power to change the afterlife, as Jensen had feared before. And he didn’t believe they had the power to manipulate any existing human beings. For instance, if they could dream up a possession by believing strongly in more facets of the show’s story, then Katie Cassidy would’ve come banging on Jared’s door by now with white eyes, trying to kill him and Jensen both. No, this couldn’t go any further than bringing mythic creatures to life, such as the Hellhounds. Of course, none of it mattered now, anyway. In a few more weeks, this would all be over. Maybe they’d even laugh about it, though probably not for a while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first day back was almost easier than Jared thought it would be. He and Jensen ran lines on their way to work, just like they always had, and Jensen was so alive, so into it, that Jared wondered if everything that had happened in the past months was all just some crazy nightmare. They were actually a bit ahead of themselves when they started running lines from the scenes they were in together. Jared wasn’t even really needed on set yet, since much of the early work in the premiere involved Dean digging his way out of his grave and searching for Sam and Bobby. But there was no way he was staying home and sending Jensen off to work on his own, Hellhounds constantly following close behind. So, Jared sat with Jensen and watched Dean become reborn, Jensen’s hair cut and wardrobe changed to fit Dean’s style.
He was a bit nervous watching Jensen fight his way out of Dean’s grave, wondering if Jensen’s injured leg would be aggravated by the activity, or if it had healed enough to be able to withstand the struggle. But Jensen was soon standing and grinning, shyly brushing off compliments from the crew. A break was called, and Jensen strolled over to Jared, sipping from a bottle of water that one of the PA’s had politely shoved into his hands.
“How was that?” Jensen asked, dirt and sweat still smeared on his face. “Did it look cool?”
“Yeah, man!” Jared patted Jensen’s shoulder and smiled. “It was awesome. You did a real good job. Glad to see you back in the game.” Jensen shrugged and brought the bottle back to his lips. “How’s your leg?”
“Fine,” Jensen replied after swallowing a mouthful of water. “It was a little uncomfortable with the stitches, but it didn’t really hurt. Fuck!” he suddenly cursed, one eye squeezing shut as he jammed a finger up against it, rubbing at it.
“What is it?”
“I think I got dirt in my lenses,” Jensen complained, struggling to open his eye.
“Ouch!” Jared winced sympathetically and grabbed Jensen by the arm. “Let’s head back to your trailer, then. You have some time, anyway.”
Jensen nodded, and they walked back together, Jared half guiding Jensen as he swore and rubbed at his irritated eye. Once inside, Jared found Jensen’s backup lenses while Jensen removed the ones he was wearing with the sentiment, “Ow-fuckity-ow!” and broke out the saline solution. Jared chuckled a bit and handed Jensen the other set of lenses. Jensen accepted them gratefully, but plopped down in his chair to relax for a bit before putting them in.
“You know, I don’t think I noticed it much before, but these things are pretty intense,” Jensen commented, holding up the contacts case. “This is the first time I’ve worn them in months, and I feel like I’m seeing too much, now.”
“Guess you forgot what it was like, using them,” Jared suggested, shrugging and leaning against the wall.
“I definitely forgot what a pain in the ass they are,” Jensen grunted. “Jesus.”
A hesitant knock sounded on the door of Jensen’s trailer, and Jared moved to answer it, his mouth falling dumbly open when he saw who stood on the other side.
“Tracy!” Jared exclaimed, seeing Jensen go rigid out of the corner of his eye. He was both relieved to see that she was still working the set and worried about how that might affect the working vibe. His mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure of what to say, and he was just about to start raining apologies down on her again when she spoke up from the trailer stairs.
“Can I come in?”
For a moment, Jared cocked his head to the side, realizing that it was an unintentional, yet nearly perfect, imitation of Harley in his more confused moments. A brief pause followed before he was finally saying, “Sure! Sure! Come on in,” and stepping back to allow Tracy to enter the trailer. Jensen stood, the closed contacts case still in his hand, shifting on his feet and nodding nervously toward her.
“Hi, Tracy,” he said meekly, taking a small step forward.
Tracy smiled shyly at them both, reaching out for the door that Jared had been holding open and closing it behind her. It wasn’t until then that Jared noticed the kit she was carrying with her.
“How’s the leg, Jensen?” she asked quietly.
“Um,” Jensen swallowed, “S’okay, I guess,” he said with a small smile. He then turned to chewing lightly on his bottom lip, a nervous habit that had progressed more in the past few months. “Did you…Did you wanna take a look at it?”
Tracy nodded, and a rather wordless exchange followed, with Jensen rolling up the denim of his jeans, and Tracy kneeling in front of him, bending to unravel the bandage and examine the stitches. Jared perked up when she sighed in relief, and watched as she smiled up at Jensen.
“They’ve healed nicely.” Jensen mirrored her sigh of relief. “I was hoping you hadn’t tried to take them out too soon. But I can take them out now, before you’re needed back on set?”
“That would be great.” Jensen smiled back at her and nodded.
Jared leaned back, his back against the door of the trailer, incase anybody decided to open it without knocking first. The process took a bit longer than Jared had thought it would, and he was suddenly reminded of the four deep, bloody gashes he’d been faced with that first night back in Vancouver. The image sent a shiver down his spine, and it hit him with a force that hadn’t before just how lucky he was that Jensen was still alive. His brain, ever the masochist, began a thought process in which it brought up all the ways in which his life would’ve been horribly different, and he cut it off before it could go any further, unable to deal with the image of a headstone with Jensen’s name carved into it.
“You’re all set, now,” Tracy said, gently rolling Jensen’s pant leg back into place, packing her supplies away, and standing. “Good as new.”
“Thank you,” Jensen said, pulling her into a tentative hug. To Jared’s surprise, she squeezed back, rubbing her hand up and down Jensen’s back.
“I’m sorry I freaked out before,” Tracy said as she pulled back. “It was stupid to think that you guys could be…dangerous.” She blushed and ducked her head, clearly embarrassed with herself. “I do know you. And before I came over, I hadn’t heard about…everything.” She gazed up at Jensen sympathetically, one of her hands resting on his arm, and Jensen tensed. “I understand you might be going through something,” she continued, “And you might not want anybody to know. But if you need somebody to talk to, just let me know. I know people, good people, in the business. They can help.”
“Thank you, Tracy,” Jared cut in when Jensen stood there dumbfounded. She turned to him and smiled, and he hugged her as well. “Really, I’m amazed that you did this for us.”
“It’s no problem.” She stepped outside when Jared opened the door for her. “Just…call me if you need anything.”
Jared said goodbye to her and closed the door, turning to face Jensen, who still stood there in shock.
“Shit,” Jensen finally breathed. “I wonder how many people on set think I’ve lost my mind. Or how much they know.”
“They don’t know anything,” Jared assured, leaning back against the door again. “Look, there will still be some talk about you somewhere. Nobody knows any details, and no one really mouthed off to the press, but people still know you dropped out of the movie and that you pretty much became a recluse over the break, until you were staying with me. It’s just a little bit of concern, that’s all. It’s kinda nice that the people here are worried about you.”
“Yeah, great,” Jensen huffed, opening the case in his hand and popping his other set of contact lenses in. “‘A little concern’ meaning Tracy just thinks crazy Jensen lost his mind and shredded his leg, because he’s fucking crazy! Yeah, that’s awesome, Jared!” Jared chuckled, and Jensen turned to him and blinked a few times. “Dude, you’re in HD.”
“Good, now you can ogle my ass in better quality,” Jared joked, turning and thrusting his ass back towards Jensen. Jensen rolled his eyes and snorted.
“We both know that I have the nicer ass, dickface.” He smirked and checked his watch when Jared pouted. “I gotta get back to set.”
“Hey.” Jared stood up straight and moved away from the door, but stopped Jensen with a hand on his chest before he could leave. He shifted under Jensen’s questioning gaze, a bit of color rising to his cheeks, as he suddenly felt sappy and vulnerable. But that feeling had hit him not a few minutes before, and he licked his lips before speaking again. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said dumbly, hoping the proper sentiment of, “You’re my best friend, and I love you,” could be heard through that statement. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I do, man,” Jensen said, patting Jared’s shoulder and smiling. He opened the door, sunlight streaming in over his features. “You saved my life, dude.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was so much sincerity in Jared’s voice that it nearly made Jensen sick. But he had to hand it to himself. He was pulling this acting thing off really well. Well, on the outside, anyway. He could easily see that Jared was convinced by his performance. But the season had barely begun, and Jensen was already feeling strung out by having three people in his head. There were Jensen and Dean, and then there was Jensen Two, the one who Jared thought was optimistic and keeping it all together. He’d never felt so wrecked in his life, yet everybody was so convinced and so proud of his performances; more than they ever had been before.
It only served to reinforce his feelings of worthlessness. Nobody was seeing the real Jensen, and nobody even noticed. Nobody even cared. Jensen didn’t matter anymore. When he died, people would miss his characters, but not him. It would’ve hurt him, if he’d still felt enough to care. As it was, he was beginning to want his time to be up. He couldn’t live like this anymore, and if he wasn’t so concerned about Jared, he’d take all of his jewelry off right now and let the Hellhounds take him. But he wanted Jared to believe that Jared’s own plans and hope had inspired some sort of effort on his part. He wanted Jared to have that. Then Jared wouldn’t blame himself for anything, and Jensen could die in peace. He just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later.
When Sam came to his motel room door and saw Dean, alive again for the first time in months, Jensen found himself wondering what would happen to Jared after he died. Sam’s reaction, the look on his face, and the power of the hug he shared with Dean had Jensen hoping that Jared would have a bright future ahead of him. He doubted that the show would go on without Dean. Not because he thought highly of himself, but because the story just wouldn’t work anymore. But Jared had come such a long way in his career and had so much potential. Jensen hoped that, once he was gone and the show was terminated, Jared would go on to bigger and better things. He deserved it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you smell it yet?” Jared asked, wrapping an arm around Jensen’s shoulders.
They were sitting at the bar at Gerard’s again, and Jensen was making a valiant attempt at making this experience the complete opposite of the last one they’d had there. He engaged in idle small talk with the bartender, politely nodded at the occupants who recognized him, and, most importantly, he remained invested in Jared’s conversation, careful not to miss a single detail. It would’ve been hard for Jensen to pull off, but Jensen Two could do it easily. Slipping into another character was becoming far too commonplace for Jensen; even he could see that.
“Smell what?” Jensen Two replied, smiling at Jared as he took a swig of his beer.
“Freedom!” Jared exclaimed, arms spread wide. He leaned closer, whispering dramatically to Jensen, alcohol on his breath. “Couple more weeks, ‘n’ you’re home free, dude!” Jared’s drunken grin was brighter than the sun. “S’almost over!”
Jensen Two grinned back and held up a hand for a high-five, which Jared totally missed on the first try. They laughed together, Jared bursting into a fit of giggles. Jensen, the real Jensen, died a little more inside, if that was even possible. His alter ego was literally laughing in the face of death with Jared, who was convinced he’d be saved in a matter of weeks. But Jensen knew better, knew the feel of the Hellhounds closing in on him, the charms he wore on his body beginning to weaken. He knew he’d never make it.
Though he wanted to protect Jared, the thought of ending things himself was popping into his head more and more often, the appeal lingering even after he’d pushed it back into the recesses of his brain. He looked down at his beer bottle, idly wondering how much he’d have to drink in order to pass out and never wake up. He should’ve known it would never work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harley nosed Jared awake bright and early, and upon Jared’s waking yawn and stretch on the couch, Sadie joined in with a bark and a whimper.
“Okay, okay!” Jared laughed when Harley’s tongue slid across his face. He stood and made his way into the kitchen to fill the dogs’ bowls, letting them out first, and smiled as he once again congratulated himself on his lack of a hangover. Jared always got tanked well before Jensen did, but Jensen? Jensen always woke up with a mother of a hangover, but always did his best to deny and hide it, the friendly competition of who could handle their liquor better a constant battle between them.
Jared could tell it pissed Jensen off, how he could eat and drink enough for an entire football team, and it never caught up with him. He could see it in the way that Jensen was always too stubborn to admit just how horrible he felt the next morning, because he was a man from Texas, and he could hold his liquor, goddammit! He’d always wanted to just win, and break Jensen of that habit, make him admit that he couldn’t handle himself the way Jared could. And, in order to do that, he’d started up his own habit, which was to make Jensen’s life a living hell until he did.
He let the dogs back in and opened up his cabinets, fishing out a large pot and a large spatula. Grinning evilly, he made his way up the stairs to the bedroom and kicked the door open with enough force to send it slamming into the wall.
“WAKE UP, JENNY!!” Jared half screamed, jumping up and bouncing on the bed and repeatedly banging the pot with the spatula, the sound echoing in the room.
“SON OF A BITCH!”
Jensen flailed and nearly tumbled out of bed, his legs tangling in the sheets. He saw Jared and groaned, rolling over onto his side and pulling the sheets up over his head.
“WAKE UP!!” Jared repeated, banging the pot over and over again as he shouted over the sound. “IT’S TIME FOR SOME STEAK ‘N ‘EGGS!!”
Jensen groaned again and quickly scrambled his way out of bed and to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Oh, shit,” Jared muttered to himself, dropping the pot and spatula and hopping down off the bed. Walking out into the hallway and stopping outside the bathroom door, he could hear two things: the sound of the dogs barking downstairs after all the commotion Jared had caused, and the sound of Jensen retching. The dogs eventually quieted, and then he heard the sound of the toilet flush, Jensen opening the door and glaring at Jared. Jared smiled apologetically. “Sorry, dude.”
“Asshole,” Jensen grumbled, shoving his way past Jared and back into the bedroom, crawling back under the covers and facing away from the door. Jared followed him to the doorway, leaning into it.
“So, you really can’t hold your liquor, can you?”
“Fuck off,” came the muffled grunt. “I can handle it fine. ‘M a fuckin’ man from Texas, goddammit.”
“Right,” Jared said, laughing. “That’s why you’re still hiding under the covers with a migraine ready to pound through your skull.”
“‘M still under the covers,” Jensen drawled, turning over and lowering the covers to just below his eyes, so he could glare at Jared, “Because I sleep in on the weekends, like a normal person.”
“Mmm.” Jared nodded, resting his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “And the puking?”
“All your damn bouncing gave me motion sickness,” Jensen whined, pulling the covers back up over his face.
“Right, right. So, it wasn’t that you can’t hold your liquor, and the thought of food made you sick, then? Awesome!” Jared grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet when Jensen flipped him off from beneath the covers. “You want your breakfast, then?”
“…Sure,” Jensen replied hesitantly. “Yeah. What’re you making?”
“Dunno,” Jared answered, shrugging. “I could make everything, really. Steak, eggs, pancakes, French toast, bacon, sausage, maybe a western omelette…Of course, I’m not sure what you could keep down. You know, with your hangover and all.”
“I am not hungover,” Jensen spat, tossing the covers back off and sitting up determinedly. “And I will eat anything and everything that you make for me, Jarhead.”
Jared laughed and went downstairs and into the kitchen. He stood over the stove, flipping pancakes and frying up some bacon, expecting to bring the food up to Jensen in bed. But Jensen, ever the stubborn type, suddenly appeared behind him, the dogs running off into one of the other rooms.
“Whatcha makin’?” Jensen asked, peering over Jared’s shoulder. Jared turned away from the stove and took in Jensen’s appearance: mussed hair, glasses, tired eyes, stubble, bare chest and feet, and old worn sweatpants.
“Um,” Jared stuttered, his mouth suddenly going dry, “Pancakes and bacon?”
“Aww,” Jensen teased, smiling at him and slapping his ass playfully. “Such a good little wifey.”
Jared jolted forward, nearly dropping a pancake in mid-flip onto the floor. He felt his cheeks go scarlet as sudden heat rushed through him, and it both excited and confused the hell out of him. He turned back to see Jensen grinning at him, then swallowed and grinned back. He wanted to keep the banter going, keep making the same old jokes they were used to.
“Anything for you, Jenny,” he teased back, grabbing Jensen’s arm and pulling him forward to plant a kiss on his cheek.
The heat running through his veins suddenly turned ice cold, but he kept his smile plastered on his face and looked to Jensen for a reaction. Jensen merely chuckled and winked at him, moving away to go take a seat in the dining room.
He turned back to the stove, mechanically turning the pancakes over time and time again. He noticed a bit of a tremor in his hands and willed it to go away. Shit, maybe he’d finally managed to win himself a hangover.
No, this wasn’t a hangover. This was something different, something new. He turned the burners off and grabbed two plates, preparing one for him and one for Jensen. His stomach fluttered when he turned to carry the food out to the dining room table and caught sight of Jensen, just sitting there drumming his fingers on the table. He shakily set the plates down, nodded in response to Jensen’s, “Thanks,” and pulled a chair out for himself.
They ate quietly, Jared occasionally stealing glances over at Jensen, his thoughts running wild and reminding him of just how much he thought and cared about Jensen. He remembered the pang in his heart when he thought about how close he came to losing Jensen. He remembered thinking about what life would be like if they lived together. He remembered falling asleep thinking about Jensen. He fidgeted, eyes on his plate, wondering if he really had anything left to be confused about.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Jensen said, setting his fork down with a clatter and pushing his empty plate away.
“I, uh,” Jared cleared his throat, “I’ve been thinking.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Jared turned his attention on Jensen, making eye contact and chewing on his bottom lip. It wasn’t a big deal, didn’t have to be. It didn’t have to mean anything, and maybe it would help him figure out a little more about himself, and about Jensen.
“I’ve been thinking you should move in with me.”
“Already have, doofus,” Jensen laughed, getting up and taking his plate out to the sink.
“No,” Jared said, shaking his head and following Jensen. “I mean, move in with me. For real. Like, even after all this is over. Hell, I could use a housemate, here.”
“Come on,” Jensen scoffed. “I’ve taken up too much of your time and space already. I’m sure you’d get sick of me.”
“No way, that’s just it! You’ve been here for so long now already, and it works!” Jensen raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued. “Look, we spend so much time together at work already, and it’s just easier for both of us to carpool from here. Besides, I’m used to you now, man. If you leave, and it’s just me and the dogs…who am I gonna make puke in the mornings?”
“You’re not helping your case there, Jared.”
“I’m serious,” Jared insisted. Then, a bit quieter, “I like having you around. I like the company.”
“Okay,” Jensen said, folding his arms over his chest. “And where am I gonna sleep? In your bed, still?”
“No!” Jared said quickly, blinking against the somewhat unexpected images that brought to mind. “No, we’ll set up your own room for you. You can have your own bed. Please, just…think about it.”
“Fine.” Jensen shrugged, walking away. “I’ll think about it.”
When night came again, Jared found himself alone on the couch, Jensen back upstairs in bed. He’d stripped down to his boxers, reclining on his back, head cushioned on a pillow. He squirmed and fidgeted, trying to get comfortable, and suddenly found himself half hard. He stilled, trying to will his erection away, resisting touching himself for reasons he didn’t want to name. But his hand moved down to cup himself through his boxers as if it had a mind of his own, and he grunted, rubbing with increasing pressure until he finally pushed his hand underneath the waistband, long fingers wrapping around his painfully hard cock.
He kept his eyes closed, trying to picture something, anything other than Jensen. Jerking his cock roughly in his palm, he thought about women, Sandy, tits, lots of tits. But he always come back to Jensen, strolling into the kitchen in nothing but glasses and the pants he’d slept in, hair tousled from sleep, and it was undeniable now. It was that image that had him moaning and thrusting up off the couch cushions into his fist. He bit down on his lip in an effort to keep himself from getting too loud, reminding himself that Jensen was just a floor above him. And suddenly he was imagining Jensen on top of him, Jensen’s hand between their bodies, jacking him off, and he let another moan escape his lips, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock and spreading pre-come down the shaft. He wondered what it would feel like, Jensen on top of him, all hard and taut muscle.
His hand sped up on his cock, his skin burning, balls suddenly feeling heavier, tighter. He wondered what it would be like, the two of them rubbing against each other, hardness against hardness, wet tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. He wondered what it would be like to reduce Jensen to this, to thrusting helplessly, uncontrollably, moans falling from his lips, his…lips…Jensen…on his knees in front of Jared, and his lips…
Jared arched up and came with a gasp, mouth remaining open on a silenced shout, working himself through his orgasm as warmth splashed over his skin. He sank against the cushions as he finished, still panting heavily, and lifted his head, staring down at himself almost in disbelief, boxers pushed down and out of the way, spent cock resting on his stomach, streaks of white on his hand and abdomen. Letting his head fall back on the couch, he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling as his breathing returned to normal, brain still reeling from shock.
Standing on shaky legs, he removed his dampened boxers and tossed them on the floor, wandering out into the kitchen to clean himself off. He found himself hunched over the sink, hands braced on the counter, shaking. What the hell had just happened? Turning on the tap, he splashed water onto his face, then poured himself a glass, gulping it down in a matter of seconds. Returning to the living room, he picked up his discarded pair of boxers and checked the couch for any sign of come, because, yeah, that’d be embarrassing.
He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, pausing outside the bedroom door and listening, heart hammering in his chest. Satisfied that Jensen was still fast asleep, he took a deep breath and opened the door as slowly as possible, quietly crossing the room and reaching into one of his bureau drawers for a clean pair of boxers. He slipped them on immediately and tossed the sullied ones into his laundry basket.
When Jared turned to leave, he froze, his eyes catching on Jensen’s face, slivers of moonlight falling softly over it. He couldn’t explain what he felt, and maybe he didn’t want to, traumatized enough by the fact that he was secretly swapping his boxers in the same room as Jensen because of what he’d just done thinking about Jensen. He nearly stopped breathing as he made his way back out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He’d never had any problems sleeping on the couch, always out like a light in a matter of minutes. But he had a feeling that tonight would be different.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jensen had thought that sleep would be difficult to come by, at first, because of the stress. And it had been those first couple of months, back when he’d been hiding out on his own in Vancouver. But now, even with death, and probably Hell, looming closer, he found he could sleep like a baby. He guessed any psychiatrist would spew some bullshit at him about sleep being an escape from reality, a part of depression, and probably the result of lost hope. And he guessed they’d be right.
Of course, that didn’t mean he was free from all worry. He woke the morning after Jared’s request that he move into the house for good with worry coiling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe not just worry, but guilt. Yeah, it was definitely guilt. Yes, he’d put on an act to keep Jared going, make Jared feel like he’d done all he could to save Jensen, and allow him to live his life peacefully after Jensen had died. But he didn’t expect it to go this far. He didn’t expect Jared to take that and run with it, planning a future for them. He hadn’t questioned himself on this subject since he’d first created Jensen Two, but he found himself wondering again whether or not what he was doing was cruel. He’d never wanted to hurt Jared or to lead him on like this. He didn’t expect Jared to look into the future, because he wasn’t looking into the future. He didn’t have a future.
And now, he was stuck. Jensen Two, the optimistic and carefree Jensen, was probably expected to agree to Jared’s offer. But doing so was more than Jensen could handle, even as an actor. He couldn’t do that to Jared. He couldn’t let Jensen Two start planning a future with Jared when he knew that it wasn’t going to happen. Thinking about it, Jensen wasn’t sure what made the rest of what he was doing any better than agreeing to live with Jared, but somehow, that was just going too far. It would be better to let Jared down easy now, but it had to be convincing. There had to be a good reason for it, and Jensen was getting tired of keeping all these people in his head, trying to sort things out between them. If it weren’t for Jared, he wouldn’t be doing it at all. God, he just wanted it to end, and end soon.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.”
Jensen snapped out of his thoughts, unaware that he’d been staring at the ceiling, and quickly donned the mask of Jensen Two, smirking over at Jared, who had just appeared in the doorway.
“You’re observant,” he said sarcastically.
“Yeah,” Jared said blandly, and Jensen wondered why Jared didn’t join in their usual banter. “Listen, I made breakfast earlier, and I don’t want it to go to waste, so I’ll have to reheat it soon, if you want some.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Jensen asked, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair.
“Because,” Jared shrugged, “I wanted to let you sleep in. Especially after what happened yesterday.”
Jensen slipped his glasses on and looked at the clock by the bed suspiciously. He’d gone to bed early, wanting to do nothing but sleep. And he could tell by the amount of light filtering through the blinds on the bedroom windows that it was still early, by his standards.
“Sleep in?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow. “It’s 8:30, dude.” He paused, pondering what Jared had come up to tell him. “Wait…How long have you been up, if you need to reheat breakfast before it goes to waste?”
“Just a little while,” Jared replied quickly, shrugging his shoulders again. Jensen looked at him, really looked at him, now that he had his glasses on and saw tired circles around his eyes, his position in the doorway a nervous stance, and slight color on his cheeks. For a moment, he had a terrifying thought that Jared was onto him, onto his waking thoughts, and he stuttered a bit before realizing that that didn’t even make any sense.
“A-Are you okay? I mean, you look tired,” he said more confidently. “You look like something’s up.”
“No, nothing,” Jared replied, looking away. “Just one of those nights, man. Didn’t sleep very well.”
“I told you to take the bed back, if the cou-” Jensen started, getting out of bed and crossing over to the doorway.
“The couch is fine!” Jared cut him off, visibly tensing. “It’s not the couch, okay? I want you to have the bed. You’re safe there.”
“I can’t move in with you.”
It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he mentally cursed himself for losing his grip on his character, the words too negative and sudden, and the tone too defeated. But he couldn’t take it anymore, Jared’s constant care and concern for the Jensen he thought he was saving. After everything he’d thought about that morning, he couldn’t handle it, and he’d allowed himself to slip up. That statement, that, “I can’t move in with you,” was translated from Jensen’s own thoughts of, “I can’t do this anymore.” He forced himself to keep his expression sincere and apologetic when Jared’s eyes snapped to his.
“What?” Jared asked, clearing his throat. Jensen watched as Jared did a little acting of his own, an expression of both hurt and fear crossing his features before they went blank again, and he wondered what Jared could possibly have to hide from him. “Why?”
“Because…after this,” Jensen Two said sincerely, using Jared’s hope for the future to his own advantage, “I’m going to need some time on my own. Really on my own. Not that we can’t give each other space here, but…I want my own place, Jared. Somewhere where I can go after we spend all day together at work and just get my head back in order. I am keeping it together, man, but I’ve been through a lot, and I’ll need some time to deal with that on my own.”
“Oh.” Jared visibly relaxed. “Okay.”
And Jensen wondered what Jared had to be so relieved about.
Chapter 6: Words and Knives
Chapter 2: Blood and Dust
Chapter 3: Cereal and Stitches
Chapter 4: Breakfast and Bathrooms
Chapter 5: Doctors and Bracelets
Jared was beyond relieved when Jensen perked up on the way home, suddenly alert and excited again. It felt good to think that he had been right; that this script would change Jensen’s outlook on life. There was the initial shock of finding out what happened to Dean, of course. That had even affected Jared. But, with a full explanation and some more support, Jensen had bounced back, just as Jared expected him to. Jensen was strong, and Jared could get him through this. Just a little while longer and all of this would be over. When he felt the slightest sense of doubt still lingering, he pushed it away, ignoring it and taking in the new enthusiasm in Jensen’s expression. He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. He was actually playing a big part in saving his best friend’s life, and it was working.
Once they got home, Jared cornered Jensen in the bathroom, telling him to stay still while he checked on his leg. He carefully rolled Jensen’s pant leg up and unraveled the bandage they’d placed over the stitches, frowning at the black lines in Jensen’s skin.
“According to the internet, when dealing with a leg wound, stitches need to stay in for ten to fourteen days,” he said, frowning and eyeing the claw marks carefully. “I just don’t know if that still applies to you. The cuts were pretty deep.”
“Not to mention supernatural,” Jensen added with a smirk. “I don’t know that the general rules apply to wounds caused by Hellhounds.”
“Probably not,” Jared agreed. “Either way, they will have to come out at some point.”
“Yeah, but how? Not like we can call Tracy back here.”
“You can remove stitches by yourself, Jensen,” Jared answered, wrapping Jensen’s leg and fixing his pants before standing up to face him again. Jensen raised an eyebrow at him.
“Come again?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jared said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll take ‘em out for you when the time comes.” At Jensen’s apprehensive expression, Jared grinned happily. “According to Google, all I need are tweezers, scissors, some alcohol, and a magnifying glass!”
Jensen stared, that slight twitch at the edge of his lips that was imperceptible to everyone but Jared, stepped closer, and jabbed a finger directly into the middle of Jared’s chest.
“You are not touching my leg.”
“You don’t trust me?” Jared asked, pouting playfully.
“Of course I do,” Jensen said. “But you’re still not a doctor.”
“My brother is,” Jared retorted, as if he could somehow gain medical skills through his relationship with his brother. His eyes lit up, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “Hey…My brother is! God, I’m such an idiot!”
“No,” Jensen said immediately, shaking his head as he headed for the stairs. “No way.”
“Come on, man!” Jared followed Jensen down the stairs, settling next to him on the couch. “If there’s anybody I’d trust to do this, it’s Jeff.” Jensen shook his head again, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “Dude,” Jared huffed, a slight edge to his voice, “He’s my brother.”
“I know that, and I know you trust him,” Jensen said, turning away from the TV to face Jared. “I don’t mean anything by this, okay? No offense. I trust him, too. I’m not saying he’d rat us out publicly or anything. But our families are close, man. Shit, your mom called my house when it took too long for you to get back to her about me! One look at these injuries and our crappy story, and your brother will head straight to your parents, my parents, and then God knows what will happen.”
Jared narrowed his eyes at his friend. Damn Jensen Ackles and his damn logic. He wanted to be angrier, to protest more. This was his brother they were talking about, and Jared was fiercely protective of his family. But he couldn’t be. Especially not since he’d gone against Jensen’s wishes with Tracy, and look how well that turned out. He shuddered to think of his relationship with Jeff going off the deep end over some stitches that he could take out himself. And he could do it. He would if it came down to it; even if he had to knock Jensen out to do so.
“Fuck you,” Jared grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hey.” Jensen flicked the TV off and tossed the remote on the coffee table. “Come on, man, I said no offense! I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know that,” Jared sighed, his arms relaxing at his sides. “I just meant fuck you for being right all the damn time.”
Jensen patted Jared roughly on the back.
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole?”
“You have,” Jensen said, smiling when Jared pushed him away. “Many, many times. Anyway, we have another problem I hadn’t thought about before.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” Jared asked, not sure he really wanted to know. They had enough problems now as it was.
Jensen held his hands up, twisting his wrists back and forth, the beads on the bracelets glistening in the living room’s lamplight.
“I need to have these on,” he stated, expression set in stone. “I need these. But they’re not part of Dean’s wardrobe.”
Jared’s head hit the back of the couch. Christ. Nothing could ever be easy for them, could it?
“Okay.” Jared rolled his head to the side, eyeing Jensen. “So…Dean usually wears layers, right? No one will see them, anyway. The necklace can go under your shirt, the anklets obviously won’t be seen…”
“Okay, can we not call them anklets?” Jensen cut in, rolling his eyes.
“Well, what the hell else are we gonna call them?”
“I don’t know,” Jensen shrugged. “Ankle bracelets?”
“Yeah,” Jared said, glaring at Jensen. “That’s what we’re calling them now. It’s called an abbreviation, jackass. Ankle,” he raised one hand, “Bracelet,” he raised the other, “Ank-let,” he brought his hands together and enunciated each syllable carefully.
“…It’s better if you use both words,” Jensen mumbled, fidgeting in his seat.
“So, the ankle bracelets,” he rolled his eyes at Jensen, “won’t be seen. And the bracelets won’t be either, if you’re wearing your five shirts and your leather jacket.”
“That’s the thing,” Jensen said, picking up the script he’d thrown on the coffee table earlier and thrusting it at Jared, who took it in his hands. “The beginning of this episode has me in a t-shirt.” He held up his wrists again. “How do I hide these stupid things?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m not as good at this shit as you are, Sammy!” Jensen hissed. And Jared just had to laugh.
There was no doubt that it was true. Jensen couldn’t convince someone to agree to something as well as Jared could. Ever. Not that Jensen wasn’t sweet and honest, but Jared’s sweetness and honesty far surpassed his.
“I know,” Jared said, smirking. Jensen glared at him, and Jared just opened Jensen’s cell phone and dialed Kripke’s number, handing the ringing phone over to Jensen. “But you have to.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jensen’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to grab the phone, reaching to end the call for a second before frantically lifting the still ringing phone to his ear.
“You’re an actor, dude,” Jared laughed. “What do I keep telling you?”
“Mother fu-Eric!” Jensen’s curse switched over to the name in an instant, a big fake smile lighting up his face as he laughed nervously. “Hey! What’s goin’ on, man? Aw, nothin’, nothin’. Yeah, uh, listen…I was thinking…”
Jared grinned, but stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t start fiddling nervously with them. He listened intently, praying for Jensen to pull this off.
“So, Dean’s already got some jewelry and things that mean a lot to him, right? Well, wouldn’t you think he’d have some new things now that he’s out of Hell? No, no, listen. This angel…Castiel, right? He, uh, he pulls Dean out of Hell, and obviously sets him up with some new threads, since Dean isn’t naked or crawling out of his grave with shredded clothes. And, obviously, Castiel wants Dean to stick around to do whatever work he has for him, right? So, why wouldn’t Castiel bring Dean back with some more protective charms than he already had?”
Jared tried not to stare and freak Jensen out, but he couldn’t help but keep his gaze on the man, anxious to catch any sign that things weren’t going well; a twitch, too much blinking, a slight flush. Luckily, none of those things were showing yet, which meant Jensen was already reeling Eric in. So far, so good.
“Well, Jared and I were talking about it, actually, and we thought it would make sense if Dean woke up with some jewelry made out of the things that repel Hellhounds. You know, since Castiel pulled him out of there without Lilith’s consent. I know other demons and things are too afraid of the whole thing to mess with Dean, but these are just sort of mindless creatures out to do Lilith’s original bidding, you know? Really?”
Jensen’s eyes brightened, and his tone rose slightly with surprise and hope. Jared stilled completely, nearly holding his breath.
“Yeah…Well, actually, we were, uh, out the other day, and I found these bracelets that I think could really work. Sure, yeah, I’ll bring ‘em to set.” Jensen looked up at Jared, already looking ready to spring and celebrate. “Absolutely. No, no, thank you. Seriously.”
“Yeah?” Jared asked quietly when Jensen hung up and stared back at him. He laughed out loud when Jensen nodded silently and pulled him into a hug. “Fuck yeah! I told you it would work!” He clapped Jensen on the back as he pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m telling you, man, everything is working out great for us. There’s no reason we can’t get you through this.”
“You’re a genius, Jared,” Jensen said, returning the smile. “There’s no way I could’ve done this without you.”
Jared bounced on the balls of his feet, his hair flopping in his eyes. All of the major hurdles they had been facing were behind them now. Everything had worked out, and Jensen was genuinely happy and thanking him for it. He felt giddier than ever and had to resist the sudden ridiculous urge to grab Jensen’s face and kiss him, then run away laughing hysterically. It was all smooth sailing from here; patient waiting until Comic Con.
“You ready to start filming now?” Jared asked, his voice almost squeaking on the last word. Jensen smirked Dean’s smirk, his voice dropping a bit to match Dean’s.
“Absolutely.”
That night, Jensen tried to persuade Jared to trade places with him and take his bedroom back. But Jared wouldn’t have it. Maybe it was irrational, but there was something about disturbing the order of Jensen, the bed, the dust, and the Devil’s Shoestring that made him far too uneasy. He knew that it was all psychological, and that mixing up the order of things wouldn’t really reverse the luck they were having now, but he still wouldn’t take the chance. It just felt better, knowing Jensen was even more comfortable and protected when they were both asleep. Knowing that Jensen was that safe at night made sleeping on the couch more of a blessing than a curse. Besides, this way, he was closer to the front door and better able to protect Jensen from anything else that might burst in to come after him.
He still didn’t know how far this thing could go, really. He was assuming that, in this situation, the fans’ could only make things that didn’t exist before become reality. He didn’t believe they had the power to change the afterlife, as Jensen had feared before. And he didn’t believe they had the power to manipulate any existing human beings. For instance, if they could dream up a possession by believing strongly in more facets of the show’s story, then Katie Cassidy would’ve come banging on Jared’s door by now with white eyes, trying to kill him and Jensen both. No, this couldn’t go any further than bringing mythic creatures to life, such as the Hellhounds. Of course, none of it mattered now, anyway. In a few more weeks, this would all be over. Maybe they’d even laugh about it, though probably not for a while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first day back was almost easier than Jared thought it would be. He and Jensen ran lines on their way to work, just like they always had, and Jensen was so alive, so into it, that Jared wondered if everything that had happened in the past months was all just some crazy nightmare. They were actually a bit ahead of themselves when they started running lines from the scenes they were in together. Jared wasn’t even really needed on set yet, since much of the early work in the premiere involved Dean digging his way out of his grave and searching for Sam and Bobby. But there was no way he was staying home and sending Jensen off to work on his own, Hellhounds constantly following close behind. So, Jared sat with Jensen and watched Dean become reborn, Jensen’s hair cut and wardrobe changed to fit Dean’s style.
He was a bit nervous watching Jensen fight his way out of Dean’s grave, wondering if Jensen’s injured leg would be aggravated by the activity, or if it had healed enough to be able to withstand the struggle. But Jensen was soon standing and grinning, shyly brushing off compliments from the crew. A break was called, and Jensen strolled over to Jared, sipping from a bottle of water that one of the PA’s had politely shoved into his hands.
“How was that?” Jensen asked, dirt and sweat still smeared on his face. “Did it look cool?”
“Yeah, man!” Jared patted Jensen’s shoulder and smiled. “It was awesome. You did a real good job. Glad to see you back in the game.” Jensen shrugged and brought the bottle back to his lips. “How’s your leg?”
“Fine,” Jensen replied after swallowing a mouthful of water. “It was a little uncomfortable with the stitches, but it didn’t really hurt. Fuck!” he suddenly cursed, one eye squeezing shut as he jammed a finger up against it, rubbing at it.
“What is it?”
“I think I got dirt in my lenses,” Jensen complained, struggling to open his eye.
“Ouch!” Jared winced sympathetically and grabbed Jensen by the arm. “Let’s head back to your trailer, then. You have some time, anyway.”
Jensen nodded, and they walked back together, Jared half guiding Jensen as he swore and rubbed at his irritated eye. Once inside, Jared found Jensen’s backup lenses while Jensen removed the ones he was wearing with the sentiment, “Ow-fuckity-ow!” and broke out the saline solution. Jared chuckled a bit and handed Jensen the other set of lenses. Jensen accepted them gratefully, but plopped down in his chair to relax for a bit before putting them in.
“You know, I don’t think I noticed it much before, but these things are pretty intense,” Jensen commented, holding up the contacts case. “This is the first time I’ve worn them in months, and I feel like I’m seeing too much, now.”
“Guess you forgot what it was like, using them,” Jared suggested, shrugging and leaning against the wall.
“I definitely forgot what a pain in the ass they are,” Jensen grunted. “Jesus.”
A hesitant knock sounded on the door of Jensen’s trailer, and Jared moved to answer it, his mouth falling dumbly open when he saw who stood on the other side.
“Tracy!” Jared exclaimed, seeing Jensen go rigid out of the corner of his eye. He was both relieved to see that she was still working the set and worried about how that might affect the working vibe. His mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure of what to say, and he was just about to start raining apologies down on her again when she spoke up from the trailer stairs.
“Can I come in?”
For a moment, Jared cocked his head to the side, realizing that it was an unintentional, yet nearly perfect, imitation of Harley in his more confused moments. A brief pause followed before he was finally saying, “Sure! Sure! Come on in,” and stepping back to allow Tracy to enter the trailer. Jensen stood, the closed contacts case still in his hand, shifting on his feet and nodding nervously toward her.
“Hi, Tracy,” he said meekly, taking a small step forward.
Tracy smiled shyly at them both, reaching out for the door that Jared had been holding open and closing it behind her. It wasn’t until then that Jared noticed the kit she was carrying with her.
“How’s the leg, Jensen?” she asked quietly.
“Um,” Jensen swallowed, “S’okay, I guess,” he said with a small smile. He then turned to chewing lightly on his bottom lip, a nervous habit that had progressed more in the past few months. “Did you…Did you wanna take a look at it?”
Tracy nodded, and a rather wordless exchange followed, with Jensen rolling up the denim of his jeans, and Tracy kneeling in front of him, bending to unravel the bandage and examine the stitches. Jared perked up when she sighed in relief, and watched as she smiled up at Jensen.
“They’ve healed nicely.” Jensen mirrored her sigh of relief. “I was hoping you hadn’t tried to take them out too soon. But I can take them out now, before you’re needed back on set?”
“That would be great.” Jensen smiled back at her and nodded.
Jared leaned back, his back against the door of the trailer, incase anybody decided to open it without knocking first. The process took a bit longer than Jared had thought it would, and he was suddenly reminded of the four deep, bloody gashes he’d been faced with that first night back in Vancouver. The image sent a shiver down his spine, and it hit him with a force that hadn’t before just how lucky he was that Jensen was still alive. His brain, ever the masochist, began a thought process in which it brought up all the ways in which his life would’ve been horribly different, and he cut it off before it could go any further, unable to deal with the image of a headstone with Jensen’s name carved into it.
“You’re all set, now,” Tracy said, gently rolling Jensen’s pant leg back into place, packing her supplies away, and standing. “Good as new.”
“Thank you,” Jensen said, pulling her into a tentative hug. To Jared’s surprise, she squeezed back, rubbing her hand up and down Jensen’s back.
“I’m sorry I freaked out before,” Tracy said as she pulled back. “It was stupid to think that you guys could be…dangerous.” She blushed and ducked her head, clearly embarrassed with herself. “I do know you. And before I came over, I hadn’t heard about…everything.” She gazed up at Jensen sympathetically, one of her hands resting on his arm, and Jensen tensed. “I understand you might be going through something,” she continued, “And you might not want anybody to know. But if you need somebody to talk to, just let me know. I know people, good people, in the business. They can help.”
“Thank you, Tracy,” Jared cut in when Jensen stood there dumbfounded. She turned to him and smiled, and he hugged her as well. “Really, I’m amazed that you did this for us.”
“It’s no problem.” She stepped outside when Jared opened the door for her. “Just…call me if you need anything.”
Jared said goodbye to her and closed the door, turning to face Jensen, who still stood there in shock.
“Shit,” Jensen finally breathed. “I wonder how many people on set think I’ve lost my mind. Or how much they know.”
“They don’t know anything,” Jared assured, leaning back against the door again. “Look, there will still be some talk about you somewhere. Nobody knows any details, and no one really mouthed off to the press, but people still know you dropped out of the movie and that you pretty much became a recluse over the break, until you were staying with me. It’s just a little bit of concern, that’s all. It’s kinda nice that the people here are worried about you.”
“Yeah, great,” Jensen huffed, opening the case in his hand and popping his other set of contact lenses in. “‘A little concern’ meaning Tracy just thinks crazy Jensen lost his mind and shredded his leg, because he’s fucking crazy! Yeah, that’s awesome, Jared!” Jared chuckled, and Jensen turned to him and blinked a few times. “Dude, you’re in HD.”
“Good, now you can ogle my ass in better quality,” Jared joked, turning and thrusting his ass back towards Jensen. Jensen rolled his eyes and snorted.
“We both know that I have the nicer ass, dickface.” He smirked and checked his watch when Jared pouted. “I gotta get back to set.”
“Hey.” Jared stood up straight and moved away from the door, but stopped Jensen with a hand on his chest before he could leave. He shifted under Jensen’s questioning gaze, a bit of color rising to his cheeks, as he suddenly felt sappy and vulnerable. But that feeling had hit him not a few minutes before, and he licked his lips before speaking again. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said dumbly, hoping the proper sentiment of, “You’re my best friend, and I love you,” could be heard through that statement. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I do, man,” Jensen said, patting Jared’s shoulder and smiling. He opened the door, sunlight streaming in over his features. “You saved my life, dude.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was so much sincerity in Jared’s voice that it nearly made Jensen sick. But he had to hand it to himself. He was pulling this acting thing off really well. Well, on the outside, anyway. He could easily see that Jared was convinced by his performance. But the season had barely begun, and Jensen was already feeling strung out by having three people in his head. There were Jensen and Dean, and then there was Jensen Two, the one who Jared thought was optimistic and keeping it all together. He’d never felt so wrecked in his life, yet everybody was so convinced and so proud of his performances; more than they ever had been before.
It only served to reinforce his feelings of worthlessness. Nobody was seeing the real Jensen, and nobody even noticed. Nobody even cared. Jensen didn’t matter anymore. When he died, people would miss his characters, but not him. It would’ve hurt him, if he’d still felt enough to care. As it was, he was beginning to want his time to be up. He couldn’t live like this anymore, and if he wasn’t so concerned about Jared, he’d take all of his jewelry off right now and let the Hellhounds take him. But he wanted Jared to believe that Jared’s own plans and hope had inspired some sort of effort on his part. He wanted Jared to have that. Then Jared wouldn’t blame himself for anything, and Jensen could die in peace. He just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later.
When Sam came to his motel room door and saw Dean, alive again for the first time in months, Jensen found himself wondering what would happen to Jared after he died. Sam’s reaction, the look on his face, and the power of the hug he shared with Dean had Jensen hoping that Jared would have a bright future ahead of him. He doubted that the show would go on without Dean. Not because he thought highly of himself, but because the story just wouldn’t work anymore. But Jared had come such a long way in his career and had so much potential. Jensen hoped that, once he was gone and the show was terminated, Jared would go on to bigger and better things. He deserved it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you smell it yet?” Jared asked, wrapping an arm around Jensen’s shoulders.
They were sitting at the bar at Gerard’s again, and Jensen was making a valiant attempt at making this experience the complete opposite of the last one they’d had there. He engaged in idle small talk with the bartender, politely nodded at the occupants who recognized him, and, most importantly, he remained invested in Jared’s conversation, careful not to miss a single detail. It would’ve been hard for Jensen to pull off, but Jensen Two could do it easily. Slipping into another character was becoming far too commonplace for Jensen; even he could see that.
“Smell what?” Jensen Two replied, smiling at Jared as he took a swig of his beer.
“Freedom!” Jared exclaimed, arms spread wide. He leaned closer, whispering dramatically to Jensen, alcohol on his breath. “Couple more weeks, ‘n’ you’re home free, dude!” Jared’s drunken grin was brighter than the sun. “S’almost over!”
Jensen Two grinned back and held up a hand for a high-five, which Jared totally missed on the first try. They laughed together, Jared bursting into a fit of giggles. Jensen, the real Jensen, died a little more inside, if that was even possible. His alter ego was literally laughing in the face of death with Jared, who was convinced he’d be saved in a matter of weeks. But Jensen knew better, knew the feel of the Hellhounds closing in on him, the charms he wore on his body beginning to weaken. He knew he’d never make it.
Though he wanted to protect Jared, the thought of ending things himself was popping into his head more and more often, the appeal lingering even after he’d pushed it back into the recesses of his brain. He looked down at his beer bottle, idly wondering how much he’d have to drink in order to pass out and never wake up. He should’ve known it would never work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harley nosed Jared awake bright and early, and upon Jared’s waking yawn and stretch on the couch, Sadie joined in with a bark and a whimper.
“Okay, okay!” Jared laughed when Harley’s tongue slid across his face. He stood and made his way into the kitchen to fill the dogs’ bowls, letting them out first, and smiled as he once again congratulated himself on his lack of a hangover. Jared always got tanked well before Jensen did, but Jensen? Jensen always woke up with a mother of a hangover, but always did his best to deny and hide it, the friendly competition of who could handle their liquor better a constant battle between them.
Jared could tell it pissed Jensen off, how he could eat and drink enough for an entire football team, and it never caught up with him. He could see it in the way that Jensen was always too stubborn to admit just how horrible he felt the next morning, because he was a man from Texas, and he could hold his liquor, goddammit! He’d always wanted to just win, and break Jensen of that habit, make him admit that he couldn’t handle himself the way Jared could. And, in order to do that, he’d started up his own habit, which was to make Jensen’s life a living hell until he did.
He let the dogs back in and opened up his cabinets, fishing out a large pot and a large spatula. Grinning evilly, he made his way up the stairs to the bedroom and kicked the door open with enough force to send it slamming into the wall.
“WAKE UP, JENNY!!” Jared half screamed, jumping up and bouncing on the bed and repeatedly banging the pot with the spatula, the sound echoing in the room.
“SON OF A BITCH!”
Jensen flailed and nearly tumbled out of bed, his legs tangling in the sheets. He saw Jared and groaned, rolling over onto his side and pulling the sheets up over his head.
“WAKE UP!!” Jared repeated, banging the pot over and over again as he shouted over the sound. “IT’S TIME FOR SOME STEAK ‘N ‘EGGS!!”
Jensen groaned again and quickly scrambled his way out of bed and to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Oh, shit,” Jared muttered to himself, dropping the pot and spatula and hopping down off the bed. Walking out into the hallway and stopping outside the bathroom door, he could hear two things: the sound of the dogs barking downstairs after all the commotion Jared had caused, and the sound of Jensen retching. The dogs eventually quieted, and then he heard the sound of the toilet flush, Jensen opening the door and glaring at Jared. Jared smiled apologetically. “Sorry, dude.”
“Asshole,” Jensen grumbled, shoving his way past Jared and back into the bedroom, crawling back under the covers and facing away from the door. Jared followed him to the doorway, leaning into it.
“So, you really can’t hold your liquor, can you?”
“Fuck off,” came the muffled grunt. “I can handle it fine. ‘M a fuckin’ man from Texas, goddammit.”
“Right,” Jared said, laughing. “That’s why you’re still hiding under the covers with a migraine ready to pound through your skull.”
“‘M still under the covers,” Jensen drawled, turning over and lowering the covers to just below his eyes, so he could glare at Jared, “Because I sleep in on the weekends, like a normal person.”
“Mmm.” Jared nodded, resting his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “And the puking?”
“All your damn bouncing gave me motion sickness,” Jensen whined, pulling the covers back up over his face.
“Right, right. So, it wasn’t that you can’t hold your liquor, and the thought of food made you sick, then? Awesome!” Jared grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet when Jensen flipped him off from beneath the covers. “You want your breakfast, then?”
“…Sure,” Jensen replied hesitantly. “Yeah. What’re you making?”
“Dunno,” Jared answered, shrugging. “I could make everything, really. Steak, eggs, pancakes, French toast, bacon, sausage, maybe a western omelette…Of course, I’m not sure what you could keep down. You know, with your hangover and all.”
“I am not hungover,” Jensen spat, tossing the covers back off and sitting up determinedly. “And I will eat anything and everything that you make for me, Jarhead.”
Jared laughed and went downstairs and into the kitchen. He stood over the stove, flipping pancakes and frying up some bacon, expecting to bring the food up to Jensen in bed. But Jensen, ever the stubborn type, suddenly appeared behind him, the dogs running off into one of the other rooms.
“Whatcha makin’?” Jensen asked, peering over Jared’s shoulder. Jared turned away from the stove and took in Jensen’s appearance: mussed hair, glasses, tired eyes, stubble, bare chest and feet, and old worn sweatpants.
“Um,” Jared stuttered, his mouth suddenly going dry, “Pancakes and bacon?”
“Aww,” Jensen teased, smiling at him and slapping his ass playfully. “Such a good little wifey.”
Jared jolted forward, nearly dropping a pancake in mid-flip onto the floor. He felt his cheeks go scarlet as sudden heat rushed through him, and it both excited and confused the hell out of him. He turned back to see Jensen grinning at him, then swallowed and grinned back. He wanted to keep the banter going, keep making the same old jokes they were used to.
“Anything for you, Jenny,” he teased back, grabbing Jensen’s arm and pulling him forward to plant a kiss on his cheek.
The heat running through his veins suddenly turned ice cold, but he kept his smile plastered on his face and looked to Jensen for a reaction. Jensen merely chuckled and winked at him, moving away to go take a seat in the dining room.
He turned back to the stove, mechanically turning the pancakes over time and time again. He noticed a bit of a tremor in his hands and willed it to go away. Shit, maybe he’d finally managed to win himself a hangover.
No, this wasn’t a hangover. This was something different, something new. He turned the burners off and grabbed two plates, preparing one for him and one for Jensen. His stomach fluttered when he turned to carry the food out to the dining room table and caught sight of Jensen, just sitting there drumming his fingers on the table. He shakily set the plates down, nodded in response to Jensen’s, “Thanks,” and pulled a chair out for himself.
They ate quietly, Jared occasionally stealing glances over at Jensen, his thoughts running wild and reminding him of just how much he thought and cared about Jensen. He remembered the pang in his heart when he thought about how close he came to losing Jensen. He remembered thinking about what life would be like if they lived together. He remembered falling asleep thinking about Jensen. He fidgeted, eyes on his plate, wondering if he really had anything left to be confused about.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Jensen said, setting his fork down with a clatter and pushing his empty plate away.
“I, uh,” Jared cleared his throat, “I’ve been thinking.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Jared turned his attention on Jensen, making eye contact and chewing on his bottom lip. It wasn’t a big deal, didn’t have to be. It didn’t have to mean anything, and maybe it would help him figure out a little more about himself, and about Jensen.
“I’ve been thinking you should move in with me.”
“Already have, doofus,” Jensen laughed, getting up and taking his plate out to the sink.
“No,” Jared said, shaking his head and following Jensen. “I mean, move in with me. For real. Like, even after all this is over. Hell, I could use a housemate, here.”
“Come on,” Jensen scoffed. “I’ve taken up too much of your time and space already. I’m sure you’d get sick of me.”
“No way, that’s just it! You’ve been here for so long now already, and it works!” Jensen raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued. “Look, we spend so much time together at work already, and it’s just easier for both of us to carpool from here. Besides, I’m used to you now, man. If you leave, and it’s just me and the dogs…who am I gonna make puke in the mornings?”
“You’re not helping your case there, Jared.”
“I’m serious,” Jared insisted. Then, a bit quieter, “I like having you around. I like the company.”
“Okay,” Jensen said, folding his arms over his chest. “And where am I gonna sleep? In your bed, still?”
“No!” Jared said quickly, blinking against the somewhat unexpected images that brought to mind. “No, we’ll set up your own room for you. You can have your own bed. Please, just…think about it.”
“Fine.” Jensen shrugged, walking away. “I’ll think about it.”
When night came again, Jared found himself alone on the couch, Jensen back upstairs in bed. He’d stripped down to his boxers, reclining on his back, head cushioned on a pillow. He squirmed and fidgeted, trying to get comfortable, and suddenly found himself half hard. He stilled, trying to will his erection away, resisting touching himself for reasons he didn’t want to name. But his hand moved down to cup himself through his boxers as if it had a mind of his own, and he grunted, rubbing with increasing pressure until he finally pushed his hand underneath the waistband, long fingers wrapping around his painfully hard cock.
He kept his eyes closed, trying to picture something, anything other than Jensen. Jerking his cock roughly in his palm, he thought about women, Sandy, tits, lots of tits. But he always come back to Jensen, strolling into the kitchen in nothing but glasses and the pants he’d slept in, hair tousled from sleep, and it was undeniable now. It was that image that had him moaning and thrusting up off the couch cushions into his fist. He bit down on his lip in an effort to keep himself from getting too loud, reminding himself that Jensen was just a floor above him. And suddenly he was imagining Jensen on top of him, Jensen’s hand between their bodies, jacking him off, and he let another moan escape his lips, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock and spreading pre-come down the shaft. He wondered what it would feel like, Jensen on top of him, all hard and taut muscle.
His hand sped up on his cock, his skin burning, balls suddenly feeling heavier, tighter. He wondered what it would be like, the two of them rubbing against each other, hardness against hardness, wet tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. He wondered what it would be like to reduce Jensen to this, to thrusting helplessly, uncontrollably, moans falling from his lips, his…lips…Jensen…on his knees in front of Jared, and his lips…
Jared arched up and came with a gasp, mouth remaining open on a silenced shout, working himself through his orgasm as warmth splashed over his skin. He sank against the cushions as he finished, still panting heavily, and lifted his head, staring down at himself almost in disbelief, boxers pushed down and out of the way, spent cock resting on his stomach, streaks of white on his hand and abdomen. Letting his head fall back on the couch, he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling as his breathing returned to normal, brain still reeling from shock.
Standing on shaky legs, he removed his dampened boxers and tossed them on the floor, wandering out into the kitchen to clean himself off. He found himself hunched over the sink, hands braced on the counter, shaking. What the hell had just happened? Turning on the tap, he splashed water onto his face, then poured himself a glass, gulping it down in a matter of seconds. Returning to the living room, he picked up his discarded pair of boxers and checked the couch for any sign of come, because, yeah, that’d be embarrassing.
He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, pausing outside the bedroom door and listening, heart hammering in his chest. Satisfied that Jensen was still fast asleep, he took a deep breath and opened the door as slowly as possible, quietly crossing the room and reaching into one of his bureau drawers for a clean pair of boxers. He slipped them on immediately and tossed the sullied ones into his laundry basket.
When Jared turned to leave, he froze, his eyes catching on Jensen’s face, slivers of moonlight falling softly over it. He couldn’t explain what he felt, and maybe he didn’t want to, traumatized enough by the fact that he was secretly swapping his boxers in the same room as Jensen because of what he’d just done thinking about Jensen. He nearly stopped breathing as he made his way back out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He’d never had any problems sleeping on the couch, always out like a light in a matter of minutes. But he had a feeling that tonight would be different.
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Jensen had thought that sleep would be difficult to come by, at first, because of the stress. And it had been those first couple of months, back when he’d been hiding out on his own in Vancouver. But now, even with death, and probably Hell, looming closer, he found he could sleep like a baby. He guessed any psychiatrist would spew some bullshit at him about sleep being an escape from reality, a part of depression, and probably the result of lost hope. And he guessed they’d be right.
Of course, that didn’t mean he was free from all worry. He woke the morning after Jared’s request that he move into the house for good with worry coiling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe not just worry, but guilt. Yeah, it was definitely guilt. Yes, he’d put on an act to keep Jared going, make Jared feel like he’d done all he could to save Jensen, and allow him to live his life peacefully after Jensen had died. But he didn’t expect it to go this far. He didn’t expect Jared to take that and run with it, planning a future for them. He hadn’t questioned himself on this subject since he’d first created Jensen Two, but he found himself wondering again whether or not what he was doing was cruel. He’d never wanted to hurt Jared or to lead him on like this. He didn’t expect Jared to look into the future, because he wasn’t looking into the future. He didn’t have a future.
And now, he was stuck. Jensen Two, the optimistic and carefree Jensen, was probably expected to agree to Jared’s offer. But doing so was more than Jensen could handle, even as an actor. He couldn’t do that to Jared. He couldn’t let Jensen Two start planning a future with Jared when he knew that it wasn’t going to happen. Thinking about it, Jensen wasn’t sure what made the rest of what he was doing any better than agreeing to live with Jared, but somehow, that was just going too far. It would be better to let Jared down easy now, but it had to be convincing. There had to be a good reason for it, and Jensen was getting tired of keeping all these people in his head, trying to sort things out between them. If it weren’t for Jared, he wouldn’t be doing it at all. God, he just wanted it to end, and end soon.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.”
Jensen snapped out of his thoughts, unaware that he’d been staring at the ceiling, and quickly donned the mask of Jensen Two, smirking over at Jared, who had just appeared in the doorway.
“You’re observant,” he said sarcastically.
“Yeah,” Jared said blandly, and Jensen wondered why Jared didn’t join in their usual banter. “Listen, I made breakfast earlier, and I don’t want it to go to waste, so I’ll have to reheat it soon, if you want some.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Jensen asked, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair.
“Because,” Jared shrugged, “I wanted to let you sleep in. Especially after what happened yesterday.”
Jensen slipped his glasses on and looked at the clock by the bed suspiciously. He’d gone to bed early, wanting to do nothing but sleep. And he could tell by the amount of light filtering through the blinds on the bedroom windows that it was still early, by his standards.
“Sleep in?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow. “It’s 8:30, dude.” He paused, pondering what Jared had come up to tell him. “Wait…How long have you been up, if you need to reheat breakfast before it goes to waste?”
“Just a little while,” Jared replied quickly, shrugging his shoulders again. Jensen looked at him, really looked at him, now that he had his glasses on and saw tired circles around his eyes, his position in the doorway a nervous stance, and slight color on his cheeks. For a moment, he had a terrifying thought that Jared was onto him, onto his waking thoughts, and he stuttered a bit before realizing that that didn’t even make any sense.
“A-Are you okay? I mean, you look tired,” he said more confidently. “You look like something’s up.”
“No, nothing,” Jared replied, looking away. “Just one of those nights, man. Didn’t sleep very well.”
“I told you to take the bed back, if the cou-” Jensen started, getting out of bed and crossing over to the doorway.
“The couch is fine!” Jared cut him off, visibly tensing. “It’s not the couch, okay? I want you to have the bed. You’re safe there.”
“I can’t move in with you.”
It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he mentally cursed himself for losing his grip on his character, the words too negative and sudden, and the tone too defeated. But he couldn’t take it anymore, Jared’s constant care and concern for the Jensen he thought he was saving. After everything he’d thought about that morning, he couldn’t handle it, and he’d allowed himself to slip up. That statement, that, “I can’t move in with you,” was translated from Jensen’s own thoughts of, “I can’t do this anymore.” He forced himself to keep his expression sincere and apologetic when Jared’s eyes snapped to his.
“What?” Jared asked, clearing his throat. Jensen watched as Jared did a little acting of his own, an expression of both hurt and fear crossing his features before they went blank again, and he wondered what Jared could possibly have to hide from him. “Why?”
“Because…after this,” Jensen Two said sincerely, using Jared’s hope for the future to his own advantage, “I’m going to need some time on my own. Really on my own. Not that we can’t give each other space here, but…I want my own place, Jared. Somewhere where I can go after we spend all day together at work and just get my head back in order. I am keeping it together, man, but I’ve been through a lot, and I’ll need some time to deal with that on my own.”
“Oh.” Jared visibly relaxed. “Okay.”
And Jensen wondered what Jared had to be so relieved about.
Chapter 6: Words and Knives
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Date: 2010-03-15 06:00 am (UTC)This is utterly brutal.