Not What it Seems
Author: 3rd-leg
Pairing: J2
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I knew better than to trust that damn Home Shopping Network
Summary: As much Jensen loathes the responsibility and weight continually on his shoulders, he’d fall apart without it.
A/N: Part 4 in the deaf!Jared as promised! And Part B will be attached.
Not What it Seems
I wanna hang onto something that won't break away or fall apart like the pieces of my heart-“Globes and Maps” Something Corporate
Jensen doesn’t claim to have all the answers. That’s why it baffles, frustrates, and amazes him when Jared trusts he does. It’s fixating, like a drug Jensen’s hooked on.
He’s thinking maybe he should try to wean away from the addiction. Only, if Jensen’s honest--he can’t. As much as he loathes the responsibility and weight continually on his shoulders, he’d fall apart without it. He can preach individuality and Jared’s need to regain a good portion of his old life until he’s a broken record, but the reality is, Jensen will crumble without Jared needing him to stay strong.
Jensen thinks he’s a horrible person. If Jared only knew just how badly Jensen’s own personal sanity depends on his daily struggles, well, Jensen’s not so sure Jared would appreciate it. Much less want to look at him.
What’s worse, Jensen can’t and won’t ever admit to not having an answer for whatever Jared’s broken and stammered questions may be. That would be failure and therefore, completely unacceptable.
So, when Jared stares at him like he’s being sent to the gallows instead of getting into a cab Jensen does what he always does. He smiles reassuringly and gives his boyfriend the biggest of hugs. “I’ll see you soon.”
“C-come wuth,” Jared insists, his face pinched with trepidation.
“You don’t need me too,” Jensen returns honestly. Because really, Jared doesn’t. He’s been trying just like he promised a month ago, and these cab rides through the city are helping-well, Jensen thinks they are. To Jensen’s knowledge, Jared never gets out of the car, hires the same cab driver every damn time, but at least he’s out of the house right?
Jared’s lips turn down in a feigned pout. “Wun ya too.”
“You know that face doesn’t work on me, Padalecki,” Jensen grins, nodding toward the waiting cab. “Now go so I can get some errands done. God knows we need food and I have to stop by the bank.”
Jared’s eyes narrow when Jensen’s lips form the last word, and he tilts his head curiously. He fingerspells the word, his face a glaring question mark.
“Yeah, we combined accounts remember? Need to make sure it all went through,” Jensen replies, glad Jared can’t hear his weary tone. “Meter’s running.”
Jared leans down and gives Jensen a quick peck on the lips. Jensen returns the gesture chastely and tilts his head in the direction of the cab. “Jay.”
Jared’s fingers tell Jensen he loves him before the tall man folds his body into the cab. Jensen’s hand moves almost on autopilot as he watches the yellow car disappear down the drive.
Absently, Jensen studies his watch-he’s late.
XXXXX
Jensen may have all the answers for Jared, but Jensen hasn’t had ample time to prepare what his answers are for the hounding questions from the outside world. They toss him alone and without care into the raging sea of inadequacy.
“You can’t sit there and tell me you don’t want to get back into the business, Jensen.” His agent’s lips frown, and she clicks her tongue in frustration. “Do you realize the star power already attached to this film?”
Jensen dares to look up from mocha colored waves in his coffee cup. The Canadian beanery isn’t as full as he wishes it could be. At least then he wouldn’t have to focus on his agent’s glaring disappointment or the outside window praying to God that Jared’s cab doesn’t drive by. “It’s shooting in L.A., Marti.”
“Is that a problem?” Marti sighs long and loud, her irritation very apparent.
“I live in Vancouver,” Jensen returns softly. His body jerks as Marti’s hand thumps on top of the script.
“Move.” Marti clips like it’s the easiest thing on the fuckin’ planet to do, and Jensen-well, now Jensen’s pissed.
Jensen’s free hand clenches as he grits out a reply. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Marti protests, stubbornness gleaming in her blue eyes, “Jensen, listen to me. Supernatural is over. There’s no reason for you to stay here separated from the acting world. You haven’t looked at a single project for almost a year. You need to get back out there before people lose interest, and this script-this opportunity-how often do these kind of things come along?”
“Jared-“
“--will understand.”
Jensen bites his bottom lip, eyes dancing across the counter top frantically in time with the wild beating of his heart. He feels trapped and chooses to stay silent. Who knows what his lips might let slip? Marti reaches out, her voice gentle like approaching a caged animal. Jensen wonders when he let his guard down so damn much.
“You got to have some money coming in. Hermits generally don’t have sizeable incomes.” Marti points out, a knowing smile on her face when Jensen’s eyes widen at the accusation he can’t deny. Things are more than a little tight. “Look, you can’t center your entire life around Jared. Don’t you think he’d want you to do something good for yourself-for the both of you?”
What the fuck’s she talking about? This is his life, dammit. It’s what he wants to be with Jared. Whatever that entails he wants it.
Jensen wants to be furious, he does. Instead, he merely shrugs and finger tip-toes the script over to his side of the small round table. His hands grip around the thick bound pages, and an almost nostalgic sigh rips through him.
Marti’s looking at him with a cryptic smile. “We have until nine tomorrow morning to make a go of this and they’ll want to meet with you, of course. Call me tonight.” Jensen nods and watches silently as Marti puts on her coat and downs the last few drops of her coffee. “Please call, Jensen.”
“Have a good flight, Marti,” Jensen manages, voice rough and gaze drifting back to the script in his hands. He feels the light pat on his shoulder, but when Jensen looks back up, she’s gone.
He doesn’t have time to inform her that the decision is one he’s going to come to terms with.
XXXXX
Jensen parks the truck next to Jared’s pickup. They’re going to have to sell it if Jared never decides to take it out the garage. He was there the first time Jared attempted driving since the accident and never wants to see that particular brand of panic ever again. So, selling works for him. Money’s a concern and has been for a while. See, another reason L.A.’s a bad idea. Too expensive. Although, he’d be getting paid, and it’d be affordable. Shit.
He picks up the grocery bag. Jared’s so going to know he lied about his whereabouts if he didn’t come home with something from the store. His feet trudge as he works his way toward their home and Jensen’s quite surprised to find the apartment empty when he arrives inside.
There’s a moment, and Jensen will swear on his grandpop’s grave it was brief, where his mind dipped into the resources of overwhelming concern. Dropping the supermarket bag on the couch, Jensen made a lap around the back of their place before his breathing turned erratic.
That was before he tread through the kitchen, and the dogs’ loud barks resonate in Jensen’s already pounding head. Jared looks up from reading their daily mail then, and Jensen knows in his heart it’s only because Harley’s tail probably left a bruise on Jared’s leg.
Jared’s megawatt smile greets him and the script in Jensen’s messenger bag feeling worlds heavier than it did the first time he’d picked it up.
“Du ya m-miss me?” Jared questions loudly, petting his ‘children’ with a wide grin. Jensen slumps down in the chair beside him and hates when the smile melts into a pensive frown. “Jen?”
Jensen shifts slightly when one of Jared’s man-paws drops onto his shoulder. “Huh?”
Jared tilts his head in scrutiny, lightly knocking away the dogs attempted siege of his boyfriend. “You dun l-look ta good.”
“I’m fine,” Jensen replies and stands up quickly only to have his bag catch on the table’s edge and pull him back momentarily. Jared laughs, but Jensen curses. “Dammit!”
“Kun duh f-funny,” Jared teases, leaning in to plant a kiss on Jensen’s pouting lips.
Jensen can’t help but smirk in return when Jared pulls away and grabs the front of Jared’s shirt to bring him back because Jensen needs all the closeness he can get right about now. “Where’d you go today?”
“Stun-stun ley Park,” Jared explains with a sneaky grin.
Jensen wants to return the expression but can’t. “Yeah. Did you get out the car this time?” Jared nods enthusiastically and Jensen does his best to seem overtly proud. He guesses he doesn’t do a great job at it judging by Jared’s furrowed brow.
“Whut’s wr-wrong?” Jared questions, pads of his fingers caressing Jensen’s face lovingly although his face is marred with concern.
“Just thinking,” Jensen responds hollowly, but shrugs on the mask he’s held up for so long. “My little man is growing up so fast.” He teases, pinching Jared’s cheek and cooing.
Jared tosses his head back in a laugh, pushing Jensen away good-naturedly. “Du I gut re-wurded?”
“After you make me dinner,” Jensen jokes in return, loving the way Jared pouts at the suggestion.
Jensen starts listing off side dishes and Jared shakes his head, fingers signing that it’s not his turn before pointing at the pots and pans cabinet.
“Fine, but we’re having chicken strips and macaroni and you’re just gonna have to live with it.” Jensen states indignantly over the sound of Jared’s exaggerated gasp of horror.
Jensen turns to face the stove, pulling off his bag and dumping it on the counter. He’s halfway to the oven timer when Jared’s strong arms wrap around him and pull Jensen to rest against his chest. “T-tell me whut it is, J-jen.”
Jensen doesn’t move to face him just signs that really, it’s nothing. He figures it’s a good thing he shares this language with Jared because right now trusting his voice isn’t an option.
Jared grip tightens a bit and he rocks gently. “Nut leh tin y-ou go ‘til ya t-tell me.”
He wants to push Jared away, but can’t, the support is what he needs. And Jensen has no choice but to turn in his Jared’s grasp. “What do you-do you ever-do you miss-I was thinking about maybe us…maybe heading back to L.A.”
Jensen says it like a question, but Jared really has no way of knowing that. He isn’t surprised when Jared releases him and stares like Jensen just claimed to be Superman’s cousin and a sole survivor of Krytpon.
“W-why?” Jared murmurs, and god, Jensen thinks he looks frightened, or maybe that’s growing anger.
“Jared,” Jensen starts, “It’s just a thought, okay? Not final or nothing.”
“Y-ya wun to,” Jared states firmly, like he’s sure of something Jensen isn’t.
“No, I-I just--,” Jensen stammers, unable to find words when Jared’s staring back like the wind just got knocked out of him. “Never mind.”
Jared steps away, shaking his head. Jensen opens his mouth to protest, to state his case, something, but Jared shrugs his shoulders and shuffles back to the kitchen table. Jensen watches Jared snatch up the discarded mail before heading to the living room, leaving Jensen alone with nothing but frozen chicken and boxed noodles.
XXXXX
Jensen’s entirely sure that his boyfriend is possessed. He didn’t come away from Supernatural empty handed. Hell no, Jensen recognizes the signs: the whole not being who people know you to be. Yeah, Jensen knows Jared better than Dean ever knew Sam, and he can tell you point blank that the Jared refusing to come to bed isn’t the same one as before Jensen dropped the L.A.-bomb.
Seriously, his Jared should’ve hit the roof, yelling and telling Jensen that he can’t believe this shit. Honestly, Jensen would feel a hell of a lot better if Jared had started reaming him on being inconsiderate and a total weak push-over of a man. Jensen certainly feels like it for even considering this opportunity.
But…but dammit, he wants it so bad he can taste it, and something he’s poured at least half of his life into shouldn’t feel like a bad thing. And now, it so does.
Jensen sighs loudly. All he’s gotten for the past few hours is silence, and something akin to moping combined with acceptance from Jared. If it weren’t for Jared refusing to go to bed and not eating half his dinner, Jensen would be at a loss to know how upset Jared really was.
Jensen turns his head to the side, smashing his right cheek into the feather pillow as he stares down the digital clock. 12:43. Rolling his head back so he can stare at the high-spinning ceiling fan, Jensen huffs.
“Oh, c’mon!” Jensen grunts, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and propelling quickly to a wobbly stand.
Jensen trudges down the hallway, blinking at the bright lights as he enters the living room to find Jared curled up on the sofa. Jensen has every intention of yelling at Jared for not yelling at him. However, that isn’t going to be the case. See, Jensen has this sudden urge to yell for a whole other reason when he gets a good look what’s in Jared’s hand.
“H-hey!” Jared gasps in surprise when Jensen’s quick action swipes the script from his hands. “Whut du hell?”
Jensen clenches the rolled script in his hand. “Where’d you get this?”
“Wh-wh-“ Jared grits his teeth and then signs the same question back, a grim smile on his face when Jensen looks away. “T-this why you wun to go b-back.”
Jensen’s glad he can hear the understanding in Jared’s tone, but shit if he can’t hear the pain there too. He knows L.A. and the whole film industry is just a harsh reminder of what Jared’s lost. “No.”
“Ya l-lying,” Jared points out, patting the empty portion of the sofa encouragingly.
Jensen takes the hint and sits, meeting Jared’s gaze. “I think it’s better-“
“Fuh me?” Jared interjects, shaking his head. “Whut ‘bout y-you?”
“What about me?” Jensen replies, ducking his head.
Jared smacks him on the shoulder for that, eyes narrowed in silent scolding. Jensen knows better than to hide his lips when they’re talking. “Wun ya t-to be h-happy.”
Jensen snaps his head up, and tries to smile but knows Jared can see the weariness in his eyes. “I am.”
Jared scoots over and pulls Jensen to rest against him. “Ya t-tired.”
Jensen breathes deep and sinks into his partner’s hold. If only Jared knew just how bone-weary the past year has left him. But Jensen doesn’t have a knack for saying things the right way the first time, and some things, until he gets the words just damn right, Jared will never hear. Literally and figuratively.
Jensen opts to sign that it’s late, and feels Jared press a kiss to the top of his head.
“N-not whut I m-meant,” Jared states quietly. Jensen twists so that he can see Jared’s face, then wishes he hadn’t. Jared just looks…well, he looks sad and defeated.
“Jay?” Jensen questions, his eyes searching Jared’s countenance for an elaboration.
“I g-get it,” Jared states simply. He slides off the sofa and heads down the hallway without a look back, leaving Jensen alone with the damn script in his hands.
Part B