Title: Shout My Name (at heaven's gate) J2, R, part 17 /?
Title: Shout My Name (at heaven's gate) J2, R, part 16?
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Author: roxymissrose
Rating: R
Word Count: 6428
Summary: Anno Domini 1951, fifty years after the failed Fertility experiments, the world still deals (somewhat successfully) with the mutations the experiments brought. With the advent of successful mechanical wombs, and a resurgence of female fertility, Carriers finally won full civil rights, and a new type slavery was abolished. Still, in many small towns and rural parts of America, in isolated communities, carriers were still viewed with suspicion, distaste, or horror.
This is the world Jared finds himself having to navigate.
Story at AO3
Part 5. Follow The Bouncing Ball
"I'm telling you, this boy is an excellent candidate. Family Community-raised; yes, raised by those people. So you know he comes from good stock, and he's healthy and well-nourished."
He waved off the nurse who'd been assisting him during consultation hours, sending her out of the office before continuing. "He's a minor, so that's going to be a problem, no matter how healthy he is now. No, not to you. He's too young to be carrying. Sure, there's a possibility of damage-but not to the fetus. Infant. Have no worries there, he's one of my special patients. I made sure he was assigned to me. Yes, all the underages are in my care. I've gotten all of them to sign off except for this one; I have no idea why he just won't sign off, so damn stubborn. Now, now, don't worry- I'll work on him until he agrees. No, I can't offer him money for god's sake, he's St. Margaret's client, not my personal client."
Switching the phone to his other ear to burn off a bit of irritation, he powered down his compad and rolled backwards in his office chair, coming to a rest at the window to watch traffic in the street below go by. This particular customer was a silver-spooned idiot.No idea how the real world worked. But stinking rich, so he worked hard on swallowing his irritation and tried to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He forced a smile before going on.
"Listen, even if the carrier doesn't make it through, I've got another two-females-on the string. I'm happy to jump you to the front of the line. It's no problem at all, I appreciate your donations to help these, these…"
He stopped, surprised to see the object of their conversation crossing the street, headed for the small city park. "Sorry, I was distracted. What? Oh. I can send you his medical information plus the baby's sex after the next exam. Until then, have a good week and don't worry. There will be a baby for you regardless of the carrier's survival. I know, it's trivial, but I can't have them popping off like flies now, can I?" He laughed, a quiet, dry laugh, and then said good-bye. He'd lost sight of the exiled Family boy. He worried his lower lip in his teeth. You know, he thought to himself, it would really be rather convenient if the carrier didn't survive...goodness knows, the boy had quite a few strikes against him, after all. And he could step up as the infant's protector, come off as a compassionate man while reaping a profit...who would question the death, especially such an inconsequential one?
He shook himself, and sighed, planted his elbow in a clear space in the forest of empty coffee mugs on his desk, he slipped the band of a headmirror over his finger and began idly swinging it 'round and 'round. Well, the issue of the carrier surviving was out of his hands. It was a matter to be tossed squarely into the lap of the boy's god. He leaned over his ugly, government-issue desk, sneering at the dark, pea-soup decor of the office he was forced to work out of here at St. Mags. Tossing the headmirror aside, he pressed a button on the office box-comm and called for the nurse to bring him all the underage's records. Time to get serious about adoptions and bank accounts.
=+=
Jared had just finished wiping down the kitchen prep tables with a vinegar solution the cook deemed safe for him when a dry cough behind him made him jump. He whirled around to find Dorothy, Mrs. Stern’s secretary behind him, holding out an envelope. "Jay, Mrs. Stern left a note for you."
"Oh! Thank you, Miss Dot." Jared took the note with a smile, and since his shift was done, followed her out of the kitchen and then hurried off to his room-his nearly empty room, now. A shiver of excitement flickered through him at the thought.
Jared ripped open the note as he walked, groaning when he saw what the subject was. Seemed that the medical staff had been told that he was leaving, and the doctor he was currently seeing wanted an immediate consultation with him.
Beans. Jared didn't want to have anything to do with the man, could not wait for the day he wouldn't have to see him again...but right now all he could do was get the darn visit over with.
He shut himself in the tiny shower room down the hall from his room. Wrinkling his nose at the stink of stale grease and kitchen cleaner that permeated his clothes, he washed his face and quickly ran a damp washcloth over his body-the doctor was terrible at hiding his contempt for Jared's background, his situation, in fact, his very existence. Jared was not about to be judged regarding hygiene as well.
He stopped, looked at himself in the mirror, and burst into giggles. Okay, he had to admit, his thoughts did veer off into odd places lately.
Jared threw on the fresh clothes he'd brought in with him, and crammed the stinking work clothes into his laundry bag. He really hated Just Like Ma's Fried Chicken' day, the smell was just-just-gross. He stuffed the clothing even deeper into the bag, promising himself it'd be taken care of soon. Candy had pointed out a laundromat close to his new rooms that was clean, fairly quiet, and judgment-free. Unlike this massive donkey's ass he was about to go see.
=+=
Jared was shown into the doctor's office by Nurse Spatz, which was quite a nice surprise. He hadn't seen her since he'd had to switch from Dr. Adler to the doctor he disliked. The nurse smiled warmly at him as she took his temperature and blood pressure. She gently asked him how he felt, how things were going in general. It was nice to talk to someone who really cared about how he felt, and understood that he was nervous. She did her best to reassure him, telling him he was doing really well.
She patted his hand quickly before leaving the office. "Dr. Adler and I have missed you, Jay," she whispered, and those few words made his eyes water. He'd missed the doctor as well; her no-nonsense approach had been comfortable and yes, familiar to him.
That warm feeling evaporated like mist when the doctor burst through the office door without knocking. He threw a folder on his desk, nearly knocking over a city of take-out coffee cups, before rounding on Jared.
"Jared, you absolutely cannot leave-I can't believe that they're letting you go off on your own, why, you're barely able to deal with your own self now, how will you do that without the support offered here?" He stopped, inhaling hugely. It looked like he was counting, probably trying unsuccessfully to rein in anger. "What in the world are you thinking?" he snapped.
The words pierced him; Jared gasped like he'd been doused in an ice-bath. Was he being irresponsible? Was he wrong to try and strike out on his own, in this condition?
Jared mentally shook himself. No. He'd made the right choice, he was sure of it. He reached for the anger inside him and let it stiffen his spine; he tried to project confidence he wished he truly possessed into his voice.
"I really don't think it's any of your business," he said calmly, his eyes meeting the doctor's squarely. "I'm emancipated, I'm in charge of myself and can do what I think is best for me."
"Well, I can tell you, you are going to sign these papers before you leave. There's no reason why a defenseless infant should be held hostage to your incredibly bad decisions." The man stopped, sucked in a deep breath and let it out before pasting on a ridiculously fake smile. "Sign these papers, why don't you, and then we'll take a few minutes to make arrangements to take care of you in my City Center office. While you're doing that, I'll let Stern and Mond know you're going to transfer all your paperwork to me-"
"Nope."
"Nuh-nope? No? What do you-I'm trying to help you, you thoughtless child! Look, I'll see you in my office without one red cent coming out of your pocket, and in fact...if you sign these papers and we make this a personal, a private adoption, if I can guarantee the person the infant goes to, say, a wealthy and very generous person who strongly desires to be a parent, and who, I repeat, would be very generous...would that help you make up your mind?"
Jared sat as far back in the chair as he could, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the man who was beginning to feel like a threat. He blinked hard as the doctor's words echoed in his head. Had...had he just offered to buy the Thing?
"Now, this would just be between us, no one else needs to know."
Jared shook his head. "No. No, if St. Margaret's isn't involved, then I really don't want anything to do with it. Besides, I've already told you, many times, I'm not sure if I want to do that."
"Well, it's not psychologically sound to wait until after the infant's born. It's harder on the donor-parent-to separate from it." The doctor stopped, and visibly forced something that was supposed to be a smile on his face. "I just want what's best for you, Jared."
What was best for him? The man must think he was a total idiot. Jared stood as rapidly as he could, hands going automatically to his back. He hissed at the pain, which lent just the right amount of sharpness as he snapped, "I don't think there's a point to this conversation. I do not choose to see you at your office. I will be changing doctors since St Maggie's no longer has a say in who I see. I'll be the one to let the office know what my plans are."
He waddled out of the office in as dignified a manner as possible. Nurse Spatz looked up at Jared from her desk as he walked past, her brow wrinkled. She set down her compad and stood, leaning over the desk to call him closer."Jared...are you leaving the program altogether?"
"Oh, no, no. It's just, I've got my very own place now, and it's going to be wonderful. Oh, and I'm still allowed to take advantage of St. Maggie's support, medical, educational-plus I get a small stipend as well. Isn't that great?" Jared couldn't help grinning, and she gave him a soft, thoughtful smile back.
"I see...well, good for you, Jared, and good luck, too. We'll talk later."
He waved good-bye, wondering what sort of conversation Nurse Spatz would want to have with him?
=+=
All the shadowy spaces in his room were filled with bright sunlight; the open window let in a breeze that bounced around the corners, flicked paper like a playful kitten. The sunlight warmed the wood floors that he kept so scrupulously clean, made them glow; the breeze wafted the sharp, clean smell of lemons throughout the room. Jared sighed. He'd done his best here. He'd made the little room a good place to be, but….
The open window also let in the sound of the streets, along with the laughter of girls in the courtyard below. He knew who they were just from the sound of their laughter. They were the ones who'd taught him that laughter wasn't always a happy sound.
Jared didn't waste a second wondering what they were laughing at. They weren't a worry of his anymore. No, he was busy, totally wrapped up in...wrapping. He snickered a bit, grabbing another sheet of brown tissue paper. He was sitting on a particularly warm spot on his rug, legs splayed wide for comfort because his darn belly wouldn't let him sit any other way. He had an open box between his knees, in his hands a blue mug-one of the first things he'd bought here in Nice. It was perfect except for a little chip on the bottom. He'd tripped up on the rug not too long ago, dropping the cup and showering coffee everywhere. But the mug was a sturdy little thing and the chip just gave it character. Made it even better.
Smiling, he carefully wrapped tissue around it, glancing over at the small collection of things that sat on his table. There wasn't much left to pack-the bright yellow vase, a prize he'd found at a second hand shop, some nice pens, a little print. His books were already tied up in twine, ready to make their journey to the new apartment. Looking around, Jared shook his head. It'd taken months to turn his room into something like a home; it felt like it'd taken minutes to revert to being as cold and empty as when he'd first moved in. He'd made as much impact on St. Maggie's as a raindrop in a lake...oh well. Nothing about that was important now. Here he was, about to turn a new page, and it was exciting, and thrilling, and the right thing to do. To be his own person, to live for himself, he'd no sooner had the thought than the weird, uncomfortable feeling of someone poking you, but from the inside, reminded him that he wasn't quite living just for himself. Not now.
With a sharp shake of his head, Jared turned back to what he could deal with at the moment, and grabbed a handful of excelsior. He tucked it with maybe a tiny bit more vigor than needed around the breakables in the cardboard box, then heaved himself to his feet. In stages.
"Oh, my poor aching fanny," he groaned, when he managed to get himself on his feet. "Oh, my aching everything!"
He rubbed reluctantly at the swell pushing out the soft gray gym sweater Ralph had given him. He rolled up the cuffs again-the sleeves covered his fingers, they were so long. It was a comfortable sweater though, nice and soft and big, if nowhere near as colorful as Mr. Jim's sweater. He liked the gym sweating pants Ralph had given him too; they were great when the stretch-waistband pants were not as comfortable as they could be.
Outside, church bells began ringing, pealing out the noon hour.
"Twelve o'clock," Jared muttered, "and I forgot lunch. Again." His gut punctuated that fact by roaring like a cranky beast, while a sickening, looping wave lurched through him. "Stop it, I'm getting something to eat right now, you evil task-master."
Working out tingles in his legs and feet, he wobbled over to the table and found the bag of crackers he'd tossed there earlier. Before he could snatch one out of the bag, the smell of potato chowder and crusty rolls made him fumble the bag. Was that...real food? Holerah, was he so hungry that he was hallucinating actual food?
He turned to a tentative knock at his door to see Mrs. Mond standing there like an angel of mercy, a food-bearing angel of mercy. She held a bag from a local soup kiosk, stuffed to the bursting point. The Lord knew just how much he treasured Mrs. Mond in this moment. If he were any more grateful, he'd burst into tears.
"Hello, I hope you don't mind me just dropping in like this, but I have some paperwork for you and figured it was a perfect time to have a working lunch. So, here I am with-" She held the bag out and shook it.
"Oh, you have no idea," Jared started to say, before his stomach finished his sentence for him.
She laughed. "I'm just in time, I see."
Jared pulled out a chair for her, and helped her empty the bag. He was happy to see that he didn't need to unpack anything. He'd only left out a spare mug and plate for himself, enough to get him through this evening and the next day. Lucky for the both of them the containers served perfectly as dishes, and they'd included toss-away forks and spoons.
Lunch was wonderful-the food was good, and Mrs. Mond spilled her grandmotherly concern all over him and Jared sucked it up like a sponge. Vibrating with excitement, and the feeling that things were falling his way, Jared shared a description of his apartment, Mrs. Mond listening attentively all the while. When the conversation worked its way around to Jared's visit with the doctor, she frowned.
"Well...you are on your own now, and it's your decision who to see, but...I've got a recommendation for you. Dr. Adler is available if you'd like, I think you saw her in the begin-"
"Yes!" Jared nearly shouted in his eagerness. "Yes, that would be great."
"Oh! Well, good," she said, beaming at him. She pulled a few cookies out of a bag that had held rolls they'd eaten with their chowder. "Don't think I forgot about your sweet tooth," she said, smiling at the way Jared's cheeks went pink. "You've really done a lot here, you're almost all packed." She smiled sadly for a second, then sighed. "Ah, Jay. I'm so proud of you, have been from day one, Eta and I both. You know, I wish I could have had lunch with you in your room before, but rules being rules...now, though, I can ignore them." She smiled at Jared. "So. What say I help you with this rug, which by the way, is a really lovely rug."
=+=
It turned out that by help, Mrs. Mond meant that Jared should sit, which he did while anxiously watching her work, worried that she'd hurt herself. The woman wasn't a spring chicken anymore, what with having grown children and grandchildren...she had to be fifty if she was a day...he clenched his cup and tried to smile as she wrestled his rug into submission.
Finally, rug rolled, and with some huffing, and puffing, tied up with twine, she declared she was done. "My stars. That was a workout." She wiped her brow, laughing as she spoke. "Someone coming to get this for you?"
"Oh, yes, It seems I have a couple of older brothers and a brace of sisters who are dying to pitch in."
Mrs. Mond laughed. “Good! You deserve a big family." She suddenly reached over and pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight, to Jared's great shock. He was enveloped in warmth, and a comfortable, motherly scent. "There," she whispered, "I've been wanting to do that forever," she said, "and now I can."
She left with a wink and a wide smile, leaving Jared standing in his nearly bare attic room, hands pressed to his cheeks, warm with embarrassment-and pleasure.
=+=
The constant thrum in the air lately was hard to ignore. "Three City Base Craft," Jared muttered to himself, feeling proud of himself for not startling every time the sound sound rose in pitch, though the sight of the huge, ungainly thing lumbering through the sky would forever be weird to him...and a little scary. The higher-pitched sound of small aircraft darting around the base craft rose and fell as they flew closer and then farther away. Jared knew that somewhere in the city was a stationary base where soldiers came home to roost after their year of service, or found transport to smaller cities around Nice. Jared still felt mildly uncomfortable at the sight of uniforms everywhere-he hadn't forgotten the humiliation of being spit on by one those yahoos.
Ralph zeroed in on his momentary funk like a hawk on a mouse. "You okay?"
"Yes, just...thinking. I am thirsty, though. Oh, hey-a fruit stand!" It was a little grocery stall, fruit and vegetables set up outside, and inside the tiny stall, shelves held some basics. Perfect that it was on the route back to the new apartment, he thought, really pleased for another bit of good luck. He took off to the stall quickly as he could, ignoring Ralph's rude snickering behind him.
Really, it was quite infuriating the way his friends claimed he was hungry all the time lately-ridiculous! He was just...nibblish. And besides, Dr. Adler approved of his appetite and insisted he have as much fruit and veggies as he liked. Which was good because meat was making him sick lately, sat in his gut like, like, mud, and whenever he drank the horrid gobnaw they called Sanka, it burned a trail right back up-
"Would you like some private time alone with your oranges?" Ralph asked, smiling fondly. Jared blushed violently and took his hands off the pile of golden fruit in front of him, a symmetrical heap of oranges that he had been thoughtlessly stroking for the last few seconds. Maybe longer. He stuck his tongue out at Ralph, throwing maturity to the winds, and why not-Ralph was certainly being childish. Jared lifted his chin and stalked away between the tables loaded with boxes of fruits and vegetables. After a few seconds, his irritation faded and he slowed to a stroll, inhaling the bright smell of oranges and apples, assorted bundles of fresh herbs. Ralph pushed ahead of him, a net bag the grocery provided clutched in his hand, kicking loose leaves and battered produce under the table.
"Dangerous," he growled, and Jared rolled his eyes. Dangerous to the fragile little carrier was what he meant, The Lord forbid Jared slip on a deadly spinach leaf or something...Jared sucked his teeth at himself. He was getting so crabby, he could barely stand himself lately. Feeling guilty, he selected a couple of figs to throw in his bag of oranges and tomatoes-Ralph liked them and Jared did feel awful for his uncharitable thoughts. Though really, figs were disgusting. He couldn't imagine what would possess someone to eat them….
Jared stopped. Was it normal to feel like this? Besides being a horrible scold, he suffered the constant feeling that his skin was too tight and that there wasn't enough air to breathe, and hot, why was it so hot all the time? Would he ever feel normal again? Why didn't anyone care how he felt?
Jared's eyes stung with tears that he tried to blink back. He was so caught up in his misery, he jumped when Ralph's big, warm, hand closed over his shoulder and squeezed a bit. The kindness in his eyes made Jared feel worse, but he melted into Ralph's grip anyway. He was being foolish. Ralph worried about him, cared about him, and right now Jared desperately needed that.
"Maybe you should get your treats and head home," Ralph murmured, and Jared nodded. It'd been a long day, and he needed to get off his feet, maybe take a nap, if the Thing let him rest.
Ralph released the bulging net bag to Jared as they stepped up to the sales counter, and he slid his selection across the counter with a smile. The person manning the cash register didn't smile back; he said nothing as he totaled up Jared's purchase, then kept his hands at his side until Jared had finished counting out the money onto the counter. He counted out change onto the counter as well, making his interaction with Jared as impersonal and minimal as possible.
Jared burned with a sudden flood of anger, but he forced himself to be calm as he took his bag back. Turning to go, he noted a bright, hand-lettered 'for help' sign propped up by the register. Despite knowing he had a snowball's chance in a stew pot of getting a job here, he asked anyway.
The counter-person sneered at him, punctuated it with a nasty laugh. "Are you kidding? I need someone who's going to be able to work, lift crates and clean and not calling out over stupid shit. In other words, this ain't a charity-go find some other place."
Jared bit his lip and nodded. The man was a great, big, rude…tool! Jared blushed, almost certain that tool meant penis-but it was the only thing that described the horrible little man. Still, awful as he was, he was right. Jared would never be able to haul crates and time was growing short for him and...well. That was that.
He started to walk away when Ralph stopped him, shooting a dark glare past Jared's shoulder. "Hey, why you gotta be such a jerk? Kid here just asked, and you laugh in his face?" Ralph leaned closer, a belligerent look on his face, and the stall owner blustered, doing a poor job of hiding his fear of a very angry, very large Ralph.
Someone came up behind the owner, a tall, brown-skinned man with big, dark eyes framed by the longest lashes. Jared swallowed. The man was awfully good-looking. He gave Jared and Ralph a long, speculative look. There wasn't anything judgmental or borderline disgusted in his gase, not like the first man; he just looked mildly interested. "What's going on?"
The owner suddenly looked flustered; seemed to shrink, and struck Jared that this guy was not the owner. "This...this person asked about the job. I mean, look at him, the frea-guy's ready to explode." His face twisted, a flash of disgust flitted over it.
Handsome's eyebrows shot up as he looked from Jared to Ralph, before asking Jared, "Job-hunting, carrier? When are you due?"
"June." Jared said, his tone flat and dry. Why waste time with words to no point?
"Hmm." Handsome's eyes locked on Ralph as he said, "It doesn't pay much-I just want someone to sweep up and wipe down the cases, empty the crates."
Ralph took a half-step behind Jared, letting Handsome know this was not his negotiation, which Jared appreciated, and Handsome seemed to understand the correction immediately. All his attention fastened on Jared, who blushed at the intensity of his gaze. He really did have pretty eyes.
"Thank you, but I don't think I'll be lifting crates anytime soon," Jared replied. He backed into Ralph, ready to leave, but Handsome lifted his hands.
"Lifting crates? Why the hell would you do that? That's this clown's job. It's about all he can manage, which is why I'm trying to hire someone with a brain. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't family-"
"Hey!" The guy yelled, red-faced, angry and obviously embarrassed. He took a step towards Jared, seeing him as the most vulnerable person there, but Ralph was looming between the two of them before Jared could even take a breath.
"Try and lay a hand on my boy, and I'll beat the stupid right out of ya."
The man who must be the actual owner of the little grocery just smiled at Ralph and shrugged, said, "Do what you have to do, my friend. Anyway," he said, focusing on Jared again. "I need someone each evening for a couple of hours. There'll also be some general cleanup. Like I said, though, it doesn't pay much."
"No, that's-I just need a part time job to-to help with rent."
Handsome nodded. He held his hand out and smiled at Jared. "Well, all right. I'm Roni. Pleased to meet you. Let's go inside and talk about this. Your…um." He hesitated, frowning slightly, and obviously wondering what place Ralph had in Jared's life. He took a stab at it, mumbling, "...father is welcome."
Before Jared could explain, Ralph smiled and took Roni's hand, giving it a firm pump. "Thanks. He's a real good worker, my boy."
When Jared walked out of the little grocery stall again, he had a job, a crush, and much higher spirits than he'd started the day with. He felt so good, he even handed Ralph the figs instead of tossing them away; he pretended that Ralph's smirk was a happy smile regarding the treat.
=+=
Life settled, for the moment, into a new and comfortable routine. His new apartment was lovely, cozy, and best of all, private. Despite expecting trouble from Mrs. Kawa, she was a tolerable landlady. Working two jobs was exhausting, just as he expected, but doable. Except for Roni's obnoxious brother-in-law (what a disappointment it had been to find Roni was, happily, head-over-heels-in-love married), Jared had no complaint working at the Bountiful Grocery. Dealing with a single ignorant pants was preferable to a gaggle of obnoxious girl-children.
Jared was on his way back from his shift at the grocer's now, and only had an online lecture to catch at the library at seven this evening, not a problem at all. He was pleased that he'd become an expert at sailing the Inconnects in such a short time. Sort of. At least, he wasn't bothering the poor librarians every few minutes anymore.
At any rate, after the lecture, what was left of his evening was his own. Maybe he'd finally try out the pens and paper he'd bought, he'd been thinking lately of drawing...though he'd found that writing was comforting to his spirit as well. Getting his own words on a page felt surprisingly good.
Waddling across the street, he swung his usual bag of oranges and apples, gifted to him by Roni's wife, who as much as it pained him to admit it, was very nice. Jared was in a rare good mood; maybe he'd celebrate by buying a real coffee from the Milk Bar before taking the trolley home. He'd have just enough time for a nap before heading to the library.
Jared groaned unhappily when he got in view of the Milk Bar.
Well, this was just beegus. There were a bunch of soldiers hanging around the Milk Bar. The darn fellows were everywhere these days. He couldn't wait until this service year stuff was over.
The boys-men-were actually gathered around a quick bites kiosk, the one right next to his coffee shop. they were joking around the way care-free boys do, the kind of boys Jared had come to recognize, working at the diner. Boys who had more money than brains, and grew up thinking the world owed them something. Jared rubbed his aching stomach and frowned. 'Stop making me a grumpy old gluepig.' he thought at Thing.
They were handsome, Jared had to admit that, dressed in their olive green uniforms and leather boots. They seemed dressed for colder weather than what they were experiencing now. Maybe they'd come from a colder place...a few of them were definitely redder in the face than their mild horseplay would call for, though the spicy noshes they were wolfing down couldn't help. Jared shook his head. If he wasn't sure they'd treat him like a leper, he might even have smiled at them. They had their odd little rectangular caps tucked in the wide, brown leather belts that cinched their jackets. They elbowed each other, laughed and poked fun at each other. In general the boys were as boisterous as a class full of first years given too much sugar, all except the tall one with high cheekbones and lashes to rival Roni's; the one whose lips were plump and pink from nibbling at the little bun that Jared knew from experience was filled with lava. That one stood out from the other's, with his movie star looks and broad shoulders filling out his sinfully cut uniform.
He finished the bun, licking his fingertips, which Jared tried to ignore. He'd almost managed to slink into the Milk Bar when the tall one threw his head back and laughed at something one of the other's said.
The sound sent chills through Jared-pleasant, and at the same time, decidedly not. Jared shivered, the swell of his belly clenching with nausea.
The young man grabbed the guy who'd made him laugh by the shoulder. He shook him, his mouth wide in a smile that lit up his whole face and made his eyes glow; even from the distance, Jared could see that the boy's eyes were green as Mountain Groves' hills, and he was freckled like a farmer.
Like a farmer….
So dark, everywhere smelled of dried leaves and wet soil and alcohol...there were warm, soft fingers under his chin...warm, smooth, not-farmer's hand cupped his cheek. "Are you sure you're okay? Really?"
Jared opened his eyes, not even aware that he'd closed them, that's how hard the memory hit him-holerah, like getting kicked squarely by Mercury-Oh! Mercury...Jared's eyes burned as tears filled them so quickly he couldn't keep them from spilling over. His horse...his life… "Oh, m-my Lord."
it was him. That boy. Man. The one who'd...who'd tried to be helpful. Ish. Jack. How could he have forgotten him? The one who'd witnessed Jared's failure. Probably the only one, aside from the monster who'd ruined his life, who had any idea what had happened that night.
Jared gasped in horror. What if Jack remembered him? No, no, why would he? Those people probably witnessed any number of idiots ruin their own lives, probably a sport for them, they probably had great laughs over it. But. What if Jack did remember him? Oh...holerah!
Jared quickly dropped back against the Milk Bar's doorway, hunching over and hoping he was out of sight, and of course snagged his darn bag on some sharp bit of something that ripped it right down the center when he tugged, sending his stupid oranges and apples rolling out across the side walk. The soldiers enthusiastically leaped into action, running after the escaping fruit, while Jack followed behind, letting them dump the rescued pieces into his arms. Jack was laughing; Jared was mesmerized by the pink tip of his tongue flirting between the sharp white edges of his teeth.
Horrors of horrors, Jack trotted up to him, flashing that wicked smile, arms that Jared knew were muscular despite being covered by the jacket he wore. He was sweating with exertion--of course, imagine wearing that ridiculous uniform in the heat...Jared swallowed violently, praying not to vomit all over his shoes. Jack stopped, too close, and said, "Here you go, student. Hope they weren't bruised too badly…"
His voice went straight to Jared's heart, making it race. He looked at the handful of oranges and bruised apples Jack held carefully out to him. Jared's hands were frozen at his sides, shaking too hard to reach out for the fruit, afraid he'd drop them and they'd go rolling off again. Jared could see the young soldiers behind Jack. None of them looked like they wanted to spit at him. They looked interested, curious; some were amused, but it seemed directed at Jack, not Jared.
Jared shook himself. "I-I'm not a student, I'm a waiter." Jared reached out for the fruit and Jack's eyes were drawn to his disgusting, bloated middle. Jared gritted his teeth, waiting for...something bad, but Jack just looked surprised, not repulsed.
"You might want to count them, make sure we got them all...oh. Wait." He waved one of the young men to him. "Go inside and fetch a bag for him." He turned back to Jared, peering into his face curiously. "Do I...Do I know you? You look rather familiar...oh my god, you're The Boy." Jensen took a step back, his pale skin going even paler, making his freckles look like spatters of mud. He blinked, and flushed, and stepped closer. "You are him."
"I'm nobody," Jared snapped, trying to tug the fruit out of Jack's hands. "Can I have my apples and things back, please?"
"I remember. You're...Jared, right? I'm Jensen," Jack said, still staring at Jared, his gaze going from head to toe, his expression on the edge of awe. "Gosh, you got... "
Jared took a deep breath, ready to try out an Outsider curse word or two-he'd been practicing. Jack finished his sentence, with a huge, bright smile. "So tall!"
Tall! Tall? Jared stared at him, nonplussed. Here he was the size and shape of a battleship and all Jack had to say was 'you're tall'?
"My name is Jay," Jared replied, glaring at the liar while he shoved Jared's fruit into a net, that Jared, with some tugging, managed to get the man to release-he was not going to offer to pay for the net. He wasn't going to be polite to a guy that probably laughed while Jared stumbled around in the dark, hurting and, and, only the Lord knew how he'd hurt out there all alone. And why would Jack lie about something so unimportant as his name? Maybe he was a compulsive liar...or just a gluepig.
He started off to his little apartment without a backward look, eager to put space between himself and that...that person. Head held high, he walked away, taking great, big, no-nonsense strides, that slowly became a brisk walk, and then a lot less brisk, until finally it was a slow-but angry-stroll. He was puffing a little but that was no one's business. The Thing took a lot out of him, energy, joy....
"I'm so surprised to see you again."
"Gobnaw!" The voice practically at his ear scared the heck out of him; he nearly dropped his fruit again. Jack went on, like they were having a pleasant meander Sunday-after-church.
"I think about you a lot, I mean, I've thought about you, you know, from time to time...I was worried the last time I saw you, what with the, what happ...well..um."
His blathering finally trailed into silence and Jared was nothing but grateful that he'd finally, finally shut up. He tried to walk faster but of course, Jack kept up easily, with his trim, muscular self and his-Jared glanced down-bow legs, Lord please forgive him, but they looked so good in those boots and those tight pants and-
"I know this is sudden and maybe you don't even remember me, I can't tell since you won't talk...um. Would you like a cup of coffee? With me, I mean?"
"No," Jared said. "I would not. Good-bye." He jumped on the trolley that would let him out at his apartment. He had a lot to think about. He peeked out of the window, and saw Jack...Jensen...standing on the corner, watching as the trolley rounded the corner.
part 18
Pairings/Characters: Jared/Jensen
Author: roxymissrose
Rating: R
Word Count: 6428
Summary: Anno Domini 1951, fifty years after the failed Fertility experiments, the world still deals (somewhat successfully) with the mutations the experiments brought. With the advent of successful mechanical wombs, and a resurgence of female fertility, Carriers finally won full civil rights, and a new type slavery was abolished. Still, in many small towns and rural parts of America, in isolated communities, carriers were still viewed with suspicion, distaste, or horror.
This is the world Jared finds himself having to navigate.
Story at AO3
Part 5. Follow The Bouncing Ball
"I'm telling you, this boy is an excellent candidate. Family Community-raised; yes, raised by those people. So you know he comes from good stock, and he's healthy and well-nourished."
He waved off the nurse who'd been assisting him during consultation hours, sending her out of the office before continuing. "He's a minor, so that's going to be a problem, no matter how healthy he is now. No, not to you. He's too young to be carrying. Sure, there's a possibility of damage-but not to the fetus. Infant. Have no worries there, he's one of my special patients. I made sure he was assigned to me. Yes, all the underages are in my care. I've gotten all of them to sign off except for this one; I have no idea why he just won't sign off, so damn stubborn. Now, now, don't worry- I'll work on him until he agrees. No, I can't offer him money for god's sake, he's St. Margaret's client, not my personal client."
Switching the phone to his other ear to burn off a bit of irritation, he powered down his compad and rolled backwards in his office chair, coming to a rest at the window to watch traffic in the street below go by. This particular customer was a silver-spooned idiot.No idea how the real world worked. But stinking rich, so he worked hard on swallowing his irritation and tried to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He forced a smile before going on.
"Listen, even if the carrier doesn't make it through, I've got another two-females-on the string. I'm happy to jump you to the front of the line. It's no problem at all, I appreciate your donations to help these, these…"
He stopped, surprised to see the object of their conversation crossing the street, headed for the small city park. "Sorry, I was distracted. What? Oh. I can send you his medical information plus the baby's sex after the next exam. Until then, have a good week and don't worry. There will be a baby for you regardless of the carrier's survival. I know, it's trivial, but I can't have them popping off like flies now, can I?" He laughed, a quiet, dry laugh, and then said good-bye. He'd lost sight of the exiled Family boy. He worried his lower lip in his teeth. You know, he thought to himself, it would really be rather convenient if the carrier didn't survive...goodness knows, the boy had quite a few strikes against him, after all. And he could step up as the infant's protector, come off as a compassionate man while reaping a profit...who would question the death, especially such an inconsequential one?
He shook himself, and sighed, planted his elbow in a clear space in the forest of empty coffee mugs on his desk, he slipped the band of a headmirror over his finger and began idly swinging it 'round and 'round. Well, the issue of the carrier surviving was out of his hands. It was a matter to be tossed squarely into the lap of the boy's god. He leaned over his ugly, government-issue desk, sneering at the dark, pea-soup decor of the office he was forced to work out of here at St. Mags. Tossing the headmirror aside, he pressed a button on the office box-comm and called for the nurse to bring him all the underage's records. Time to get serious about adoptions and bank accounts.
=+=
Jared had just finished wiping down the kitchen prep tables with a vinegar solution the cook deemed safe for him when a dry cough behind him made him jump. He whirled around to find Dorothy, Mrs. Stern’s secretary behind him, holding out an envelope. "Jay, Mrs. Stern left a note for you."
"Oh! Thank you, Miss Dot." Jared took the note with a smile, and since his shift was done, followed her out of the kitchen and then hurried off to his room-his nearly empty room, now. A shiver of excitement flickered through him at the thought.
Jared ripped open the note as he walked, groaning when he saw what the subject was. Seemed that the medical staff had been told that he was leaving, and the doctor he was currently seeing wanted an immediate consultation with him.
Beans. Jared didn't want to have anything to do with the man, could not wait for the day he wouldn't have to see him again...but right now all he could do was get the darn visit over with.
He shut himself in the tiny shower room down the hall from his room. Wrinkling his nose at the stink of stale grease and kitchen cleaner that permeated his clothes, he washed his face and quickly ran a damp washcloth over his body-the doctor was terrible at hiding his contempt for Jared's background, his situation, in fact, his very existence. Jared was not about to be judged regarding hygiene as well.
He stopped, looked at himself in the mirror, and burst into giggles. Okay, he had to admit, his thoughts did veer off into odd places lately.
Jared threw on the fresh clothes he'd brought in with him, and crammed the stinking work clothes into his laundry bag. He really hated Just Like Ma's Fried Chicken' day, the smell was just-just-gross. He stuffed the clothing even deeper into the bag, promising himself it'd be taken care of soon. Candy had pointed out a laundromat close to his new rooms that was clean, fairly quiet, and judgment-free. Unlike this massive donkey's ass he was about to go see.
=+=
Jared was shown into the doctor's office by Nurse Spatz, which was quite a nice surprise. He hadn't seen her since he'd had to switch from Dr. Adler to the doctor he disliked. The nurse smiled warmly at him as she took his temperature and blood pressure. She gently asked him how he felt, how things were going in general. It was nice to talk to someone who really cared about how he felt, and understood that he was nervous. She did her best to reassure him, telling him he was doing really well.
She patted his hand quickly before leaving the office. "Dr. Adler and I have missed you, Jay," she whispered, and those few words made his eyes water. He'd missed the doctor as well; her no-nonsense approach had been comfortable and yes, familiar to him.
That warm feeling evaporated like mist when the doctor burst through the office door without knocking. He threw a folder on his desk, nearly knocking over a city of take-out coffee cups, before rounding on Jared.
"Jared, you absolutely cannot leave-I can't believe that they're letting you go off on your own, why, you're barely able to deal with your own self now, how will you do that without the support offered here?" He stopped, inhaling hugely. It looked like he was counting, probably trying unsuccessfully to rein in anger. "What in the world are you thinking?" he snapped.
The words pierced him; Jared gasped like he'd been doused in an ice-bath. Was he being irresponsible? Was he wrong to try and strike out on his own, in this condition?
Jared mentally shook himself. No. He'd made the right choice, he was sure of it. He reached for the anger inside him and let it stiffen his spine; he tried to project confidence he wished he truly possessed into his voice.
"I really don't think it's any of your business," he said calmly, his eyes meeting the doctor's squarely. "I'm emancipated, I'm in charge of myself and can do what I think is best for me."
"Well, I can tell you, you are going to sign these papers before you leave. There's no reason why a defenseless infant should be held hostage to your incredibly bad decisions." The man stopped, sucked in a deep breath and let it out before pasting on a ridiculously fake smile. "Sign these papers, why don't you, and then we'll take a few minutes to make arrangements to take care of you in my City Center office. While you're doing that, I'll let Stern and Mond know you're going to transfer all your paperwork to me-"
"Nope."
"Nuh-nope? No? What do you-I'm trying to help you, you thoughtless child! Look, I'll see you in my office without one red cent coming out of your pocket, and in fact...if you sign these papers and we make this a personal, a private adoption, if I can guarantee the person the infant goes to, say, a wealthy and very generous person who strongly desires to be a parent, and who, I repeat, would be very generous...would that help you make up your mind?"
Jared sat as far back in the chair as he could, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the man who was beginning to feel like a threat. He blinked hard as the doctor's words echoed in his head. Had...had he just offered to buy the Thing?
"Now, this would just be between us, no one else needs to know."
Jared shook his head. "No. No, if St. Margaret's isn't involved, then I really don't want anything to do with it. Besides, I've already told you, many times, I'm not sure if I want to do that."
"Well, it's not psychologically sound to wait until after the infant's born. It's harder on the donor-parent-to separate from it." The doctor stopped, and visibly forced something that was supposed to be a smile on his face. "I just want what's best for you, Jared."
What was best for him? The man must think he was a total idiot. Jared stood as rapidly as he could, hands going automatically to his back. He hissed at the pain, which lent just the right amount of sharpness as he snapped, "I don't think there's a point to this conversation. I do not choose to see you at your office. I will be changing doctors since St Maggie's no longer has a say in who I see. I'll be the one to let the office know what my plans are."
He waddled out of the office in as dignified a manner as possible. Nurse Spatz looked up at Jared from her desk as he walked past, her brow wrinkled. She set down her compad and stood, leaning over the desk to call him closer."Jared...are you leaving the program altogether?"
"Oh, no, no. It's just, I've got my very own place now, and it's going to be wonderful. Oh, and I'm still allowed to take advantage of St. Maggie's support, medical, educational-plus I get a small stipend as well. Isn't that great?" Jared couldn't help grinning, and she gave him a soft, thoughtful smile back.
"I see...well, good for you, Jared, and good luck, too. We'll talk later."
He waved good-bye, wondering what sort of conversation Nurse Spatz would want to have with him?
=+=
All the shadowy spaces in his room were filled with bright sunlight; the open window let in a breeze that bounced around the corners, flicked paper like a playful kitten. The sunlight warmed the wood floors that he kept so scrupulously clean, made them glow; the breeze wafted the sharp, clean smell of lemons throughout the room. Jared sighed. He'd done his best here. He'd made the little room a good place to be, but….
The open window also let in the sound of the streets, along with the laughter of girls in the courtyard below. He knew who they were just from the sound of their laughter. They were the ones who'd taught him that laughter wasn't always a happy sound.
Jared didn't waste a second wondering what they were laughing at. They weren't a worry of his anymore. No, he was busy, totally wrapped up in...wrapping. He snickered a bit, grabbing another sheet of brown tissue paper. He was sitting on a particularly warm spot on his rug, legs splayed wide for comfort because his darn belly wouldn't let him sit any other way. He had an open box between his knees, in his hands a blue mug-one of the first things he'd bought here in Nice. It was perfect except for a little chip on the bottom. He'd tripped up on the rug not too long ago, dropping the cup and showering coffee everywhere. But the mug was a sturdy little thing and the chip just gave it character. Made it even better.
Smiling, he carefully wrapped tissue around it, glancing over at the small collection of things that sat on his table. There wasn't much left to pack-the bright yellow vase, a prize he'd found at a second hand shop, some nice pens, a little print. His books were already tied up in twine, ready to make their journey to the new apartment. Looking around, Jared shook his head. It'd taken months to turn his room into something like a home; it felt like it'd taken minutes to revert to being as cold and empty as when he'd first moved in. He'd made as much impact on St. Maggie's as a raindrop in a lake...oh well. Nothing about that was important now. Here he was, about to turn a new page, and it was exciting, and thrilling, and the right thing to do. To be his own person, to live for himself, he'd no sooner had the thought than the weird, uncomfortable feeling of someone poking you, but from the inside, reminded him that he wasn't quite living just for himself. Not now.
With a sharp shake of his head, Jared turned back to what he could deal with at the moment, and grabbed a handful of excelsior. He tucked it with maybe a tiny bit more vigor than needed around the breakables in the cardboard box, then heaved himself to his feet. In stages.
"Oh, my poor aching fanny," he groaned, when he managed to get himself on his feet. "Oh, my aching everything!"
He rubbed reluctantly at the swell pushing out the soft gray gym sweater Ralph had given him. He rolled up the cuffs again-the sleeves covered his fingers, they were so long. It was a comfortable sweater though, nice and soft and big, if nowhere near as colorful as Mr. Jim's sweater. He liked the gym sweating pants Ralph had given him too; they were great when the stretch-waistband pants were not as comfortable as they could be.
Outside, church bells began ringing, pealing out the noon hour.
"Twelve o'clock," Jared muttered, "and I forgot lunch. Again." His gut punctuated that fact by roaring like a cranky beast, while a sickening, looping wave lurched through him. "Stop it, I'm getting something to eat right now, you evil task-master."
Working out tingles in his legs and feet, he wobbled over to the table and found the bag of crackers he'd tossed there earlier. Before he could snatch one out of the bag, the smell of potato chowder and crusty rolls made him fumble the bag. Was that...real food? Holerah, was he so hungry that he was hallucinating actual food?
He turned to a tentative knock at his door to see Mrs. Mond standing there like an angel of mercy, a food-bearing angel of mercy. She held a bag from a local soup kiosk, stuffed to the bursting point. The Lord knew just how much he treasured Mrs. Mond in this moment. If he were any more grateful, he'd burst into tears.
"Hello, I hope you don't mind me just dropping in like this, but I have some paperwork for you and figured it was a perfect time to have a working lunch. So, here I am with-" She held the bag out and shook it.
"Oh, you have no idea," Jared started to say, before his stomach finished his sentence for him.
She laughed. "I'm just in time, I see."
Jared pulled out a chair for her, and helped her empty the bag. He was happy to see that he didn't need to unpack anything. He'd only left out a spare mug and plate for himself, enough to get him through this evening and the next day. Lucky for the both of them the containers served perfectly as dishes, and they'd included toss-away forks and spoons.
Lunch was wonderful-the food was good, and Mrs. Mond spilled her grandmotherly concern all over him and Jared sucked it up like a sponge. Vibrating with excitement, and the feeling that things were falling his way, Jared shared a description of his apartment, Mrs. Mond listening attentively all the while. When the conversation worked its way around to Jared's visit with the doctor, she frowned.
"Well...you are on your own now, and it's your decision who to see, but...I've got a recommendation for you. Dr. Adler is available if you'd like, I think you saw her in the begin-"
"Yes!" Jared nearly shouted in his eagerness. "Yes, that would be great."
"Oh! Well, good," she said, beaming at him. She pulled a few cookies out of a bag that had held rolls they'd eaten with their chowder. "Don't think I forgot about your sweet tooth," she said, smiling at the way Jared's cheeks went pink. "You've really done a lot here, you're almost all packed." She smiled sadly for a second, then sighed. "Ah, Jay. I'm so proud of you, have been from day one, Eta and I both. You know, I wish I could have had lunch with you in your room before, but rules being rules...now, though, I can ignore them." She smiled at Jared. "So. What say I help you with this rug, which by the way, is a really lovely rug."
=+=
It turned out that by help, Mrs. Mond meant that Jared should sit, which he did while anxiously watching her work, worried that she'd hurt herself. The woman wasn't a spring chicken anymore, what with having grown children and grandchildren...she had to be fifty if she was a day...he clenched his cup and tried to smile as she wrestled his rug into submission.
Finally, rug rolled, and with some huffing, and puffing, tied up with twine, she declared she was done. "My stars. That was a workout." She wiped her brow, laughing as she spoke. "Someone coming to get this for you?"
"Oh, yes, It seems I have a couple of older brothers and a brace of sisters who are dying to pitch in."
Mrs. Mond laughed. “Good! You deserve a big family." She suddenly reached over and pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight, to Jared's great shock. He was enveloped in warmth, and a comfortable, motherly scent. "There," she whispered, "I've been wanting to do that forever," she said, "and now I can."
She left with a wink and a wide smile, leaving Jared standing in his nearly bare attic room, hands pressed to his cheeks, warm with embarrassment-and pleasure.
=+=
The constant thrum in the air lately was hard to ignore. "Three City Base Craft," Jared muttered to himself, feeling proud of himself for not startling every time the sound sound rose in pitch, though the sight of the huge, ungainly thing lumbering through the sky would forever be weird to him...and a little scary. The higher-pitched sound of small aircraft darting around the base craft rose and fell as they flew closer and then farther away. Jared knew that somewhere in the city was a stationary base where soldiers came home to roost after their year of service, or found transport to smaller cities around Nice. Jared still felt mildly uncomfortable at the sight of uniforms everywhere-he hadn't forgotten the humiliation of being spit on by one those yahoos.
Ralph zeroed in on his momentary funk like a hawk on a mouse. "You okay?"
"Yes, just...thinking. I am thirsty, though. Oh, hey-a fruit stand!" It was a little grocery stall, fruit and vegetables set up outside, and inside the tiny stall, shelves held some basics. Perfect that it was on the route back to the new apartment, he thought, really pleased for another bit of good luck. He took off to the stall quickly as he could, ignoring Ralph's rude snickering behind him.
Really, it was quite infuriating the way his friends claimed he was hungry all the time lately-ridiculous! He was just...nibblish. And besides, Dr. Adler approved of his appetite and insisted he have as much fruit and veggies as he liked. Which was good because meat was making him sick lately, sat in his gut like, like, mud, and whenever he drank the horrid gobnaw they called Sanka, it burned a trail right back up-
"Would you like some private time alone with your oranges?" Ralph asked, smiling fondly. Jared blushed violently and took his hands off the pile of golden fruit in front of him, a symmetrical heap of oranges that he had been thoughtlessly stroking for the last few seconds. Maybe longer. He stuck his tongue out at Ralph, throwing maturity to the winds, and why not-Ralph was certainly being childish. Jared lifted his chin and stalked away between the tables loaded with boxes of fruits and vegetables. After a few seconds, his irritation faded and he slowed to a stroll, inhaling the bright smell of oranges and apples, assorted bundles of fresh herbs. Ralph pushed ahead of him, a net bag the grocery provided clutched in his hand, kicking loose leaves and battered produce under the table.
"Dangerous," he growled, and Jared rolled his eyes. Dangerous to the fragile little carrier was what he meant, The Lord forbid Jared slip on a deadly spinach leaf or something...Jared sucked his teeth at himself. He was getting so crabby, he could barely stand himself lately. Feeling guilty, he selected a couple of figs to throw in his bag of oranges and tomatoes-Ralph liked them and Jared did feel awful for his uncharitable thoughts. Though really, figs were disgusting. He couldn't imagine what would possess someone to eat them….
Jared stopped. Was it normal to feel like this? Besides being a horrible scold, he suffered the constant feeling that his skin was too tight and that there wasn't enough air to breathe, and hot, why was it so hot all the time? Would he ever feel normal again? Why didn't anyone care how he felt?
Jared's eyes stung with tears that he tried to blink back. He was so caught up in his misery, he jumped when Ralph's big, warm, hand closed over his shoulder and squeezed a bit. The kindness in his eyes made Jared feel worse, but he melted into Ralph's grip anyway. He was being foolish. Ralph worried about him, cared about him, and right now Jared desperately needed that.
"Maybe you should get your treats and head home," Ralph murmured, and Jared nodded. It'd been a long day, and he needed to get off his feet, maybe take a nap, if the Thing let him rest.
Ralph released the bulging net bag to Jared as they stepped up to the sales counter, and he slid his selection across the counter with a smile. The person manning the cash register didn't smile back; he said nothing as he totaled up Jared's purchase, then kept his hands at his side until Jared had finished counting out the money onto the counter. He counted out change onto the counter as well, making his interaction with Jared as impersonal and minimal as possible.
Jared burned with a sudden flood of anger, but he forced himself to be calm as he took his bag back. Turning to go, he noted a bright, hand-lettered 'for help' sign propped up by the register. Despite knowing he had a snowball's chance in a stew pot of getting a job here, he asked anyway.
The counter-person sneered at him, punctuated it with a nasty laugh. "Are you kidding? I need someone who's going to be able to work, lift crates and clean and not calling out over stupid shit. In other words, this ain't a charity-go find some other place."
Jared bit his lip and nodded. The man was a great, big, rude…tool! Jared blushed, almost certain that tool meant penis-but it was the only thing that described the horrible little man. Still, awful as he was, he was right. Jared would never be able to haul crates and time was growing short for him and...well. That was that.
He started to walk away when Ralph stopped him, shooting a dark glare past Jared's shoulder. "Hey, why you gotta be such a jerk? Kid here just asked, and you laugh in his face?" Ralph leaned closer, a belligerent look on his face, and the stall owner blustered, doing a poor job of hiding his fear of a very angry, very large Ralph.
Someone came up behind the owner, a tall, brown-skinned man with big, dark eyes framed by the longest lashes. Jared swallowed. The man was awfully good-looking. He gave Jared and Ralph a long, speculative look. There wasn't anything judgmental or borderline disgusted in his gase, not like the first man; he just looked mildly interested. "What's going on?"
The owner suddenly looked flustered; seemed to shrink, and struck Jared that this guy was not the owner. "This...this person asked about the job. I mean, look at him, the frea-guy's ready to explode." His face twisted, a flash of disgust flitted over it.
Handsome's eyebrows shot up as he looked from Jared to Ralph, before asking Jared, "Job-hunting, carrier? When are you due?"
"June." Jared said, his tone flat and dry. Why waste time with words to no point?
"Hmm." Handsome's eyes locked on Ralph as he said, "It doesn't pay much-I just want someone to sweep up and wipe down the cases, empty the crates."
Ralph took a half-step behind Jared, letting Handsome know this was not his negotiation, which Jared appreciated, and Handsome seemed to understand the correction immediately. All his attention fastened on Jared, who blushed at the intensity of his gaze. He really did have pretty eyes.
"Thank you, but I don't think I'll be lifting crates anytime soon," Jared replied. He backed into Ralph, ready to leave, but Handsome lifted his hands.
"Lifting crates? Why the hell would you do that? That's this clown's job. It's about all he can manage, which is why I'm trying to hire someone with a brain. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't family-"
"Hey!" The guy yelled, red-faced, angry and obviously embarrassed. He took a step towards Jared, seeing him as the most vulnerable person there, but Ralph was looming between the two of them before Jared could even take a breath.
"Try and lay a hand on my boy, and I'll beat the stupid right out of ya."
The man who must be the actual owner of the little grocery just smiled at Ralph and shrugged, said, "Do what you have to do, my friend. Anyway," he said, focusing on Jared again. "I need someone each evening for a couple of hours. There'll also be some general cleanup. Like I said, though, it doesn't pay much."
"No, that's-I just need a part time job to-to help with rent."
Handsome nodded. He held his hand out and smiled at Jared. "Well, all right. I'm Roni. Pleased to meet you. Let's go inside and talk about this. Your…um." He hesitated, frowning slightly, and obviously wondering what place Ralph had in Jared's life. He took a stab at it, mumbling, "...father is welcome."
Before Jared could explain, Ralph smiled and took Roni's hand, giving it a firm pump. "Thanks. He's a real good worker, my boy."
When Jared walked out of the little grocery stall again, he had a job, a crush, and much higher spirits than he'd started the day with. He felt so good, he even handed Ralph the figs instead of tossing them away; he pretended that Ralph's smirk was a happy smile regarding the treat.
=+=
Life settled, for the moment, into a new and comfortable routine. His new apartment was lovely, cozy, and best of all, private. Despite expecting trouble from Mrs. Kawa, she was a tolerable landlady. Working two jobs was exhausting, just as he expected, but doable. Except for Roni's obnoxious brother-in-law (what a disappointment it had been to find Roni was, happily, head-over-heels-in-love married), Jared had no complaint working at the Bountiful Grocery. Dealing with a single ignorant pants was preferable to a gaggle of obnoxious girl-children.
Jared was on his way back from his shift at the grocer's now, and only had an online lecture to catch at the library at seven this evening, not a problem at all. He was pleased that he'd become an expert at sailing the Inconnects in such a short time. Sort of. At least, he wasn't bothering the poor librarians every few minutes anymore.
At any rate, after the lecture, what was left of his evening was his own. Maybe he'd finally try out the pens and paper he'd bought, he'd been thinking lately of drawing...though he'd found that writing was comforting to his spirit as well. Getting his own words on a page felt surprisingly good.
Waddling across the street, he swung his usual bag of oranges and apples, gifted to him by Roni's wife, who as much as it pained him to admit it, was very nice. Jared was in a rare good mood; maybe he'd celebrate by buying a real coffee from the Milk Bar before taking the trolley home. He'd have just enough time for a nap before heading to the library.
Jared groaned unhappily when he got in view of the Milk Bar.
Well, this was just beegus. There were a bunch of soldiers hanging around the Milk Bar. The darn fellows were everywhere these days. He couldn't wait until this service year stuff was over.
The boys-men-were actually gathered around a quick bites kiosk, the one right next to his coffee shop. they were joking around the way care-free boys do, the kind of boys Jared had come to recognize, working at the diner. Boys who had more money than brains, and grew up thinking the world owed them something. Jared rubbed his aching stomach and frowned. 'Stop making me a grumpy old gluepig.' he thought at Thing.
They were handsome, Jared had to admit that, dressed in their olive green uniforms and leather boots. They seemed dressed for colder weather than what they were experiencing now. Maybe they'd come from a colder place...a few of them were definitely redder in the face than their mild horseplay would call for, though the spicy noshes they were wolfing down couldn't help. Jared shook his head. If he wasn't sure they'd treat him like a leper, he might even have smiled at them. They had their odd little rectangular caps tucked in the wide, brown leather belts that cinched their jackets. They elbowed each other, laughed and poked fun at each other. In general the boys were as boisterous as a class full of first years given too much sugar, all except the tall one with high cheekbones and lashes to rival Roni's; the one whose lips were plump and pink from nibbling at the little bun that Jared knew from experience was filled with lava. That one stood out from the other's, with his movie star looks and broad shoulders filling out his sinfully cut uniform.
He finished the bun, licking his fingertips, which Jared tried to ignore. He'd almost managed to slink into the Milk Bar when the tall one threw his head back and laughed at something one of the other's said.
The sound sent chills through Jared-pleasant, and at the same time, decidedly not. Jared shivered, the swell of his belly clenching with nausea.
The young man grabbed the guy who'd made him laugh by the shoulder. He shook him, his mouth wide in a smile that lit up his whole face and made his eyes glow; even from the distance, Jared could see that the boy's eyes were green as Mountain Groves' hills, and he was freckled like a farmer.
Like a farmer….
So dark, everywhere smelled of dried leaves and wet soil and alcohol...there were warm, soft fingers under his chin...warm, smooth, not-farmer's hand cupped his cheek. "Are you sure you're okay? Really?"
Jared opened his eyes, not even aware that he'd closed them, that's how hard the memory hit him-holerah, like getting kicked squarely by Mercury-Oh! Mercury...Jared's eyes burned as tears filled them so quickly he couldn't keep them from spilling over. His horse...his life… "Oh, m-my Lord."
it was him. That boy. Man. The one who'd...who'd tried to be helpful. Ish. Jack. How could he have forgotten him? The one who'd witnessed Jared's failure. Probably the only one, aside from the monster who'd ruined his life, who had any idea what had happened that night.
Jared gasped in horror. What if Jack remembered him? No, no, why would he? Those people probably witnessed any number of idiots ruin their own lives, probably a sport for them, they probably had great laughs over it. But. What if Jack did remember him? Oh...holerah!
Jared quickly dropped back against the Milk Bar's doorway, hunching over and hoping he was out of sight, and of course snagged his darn bag on some sharp bit of something that ripped it right down the center when he tugged, sending his stupid oranges and apples rolling out across the side walk. The soldiers enthusiastically leaped into action, running after the escaping fruit, while Jack followed behind, letting them dump the rescued pieces into his arms. Jack was laughing; Jared was mesmerized by the pink tip of his tongue flirting between the sharp white edges of his teeth.
Horrors of horrors, Jack trotted up to him, flashing that wicked smile, arms that Jared knew were muscular despite being covered by the jacket he wore. He was sweating with exertion--of course, imagine wearing that ridiculous uniform in the heat...Jared swallowed violently, praying not to vomit all over his shoes. Jack stopped, too close, and said, "Here you go, student. Hope they weren't bruised too badly…"
His voice went straight to Jared's heart, making it race. He looked at the handful of oranges and bruised apples Jack held carefully out to him. Jared's hands were frozen at his sides, shaking too hard to reach out for the fruit, afraid he'd drop them and they'd go rolling off again. Jared could see the young soldiers behind Jack. None of them looked like they wanted to spit at him. They looked interested, curious; some were amused, but it seemed directed at Jack, not Jared.
Jared shook himself. "I-I'm not a student, I'm a waiter." Jared reached out for the fruit and Jack's eyes were drawn to his disgusting, bloated middle. Jared gritted his teeth, waiting for...something bad, but Jack just looked surprised, not repulsed.
"You might want to count them, make sure we got them all...oh. Wait." He waved one of the young men to him. "Go inside and fetch a bag for him." He turned back to Jared, peering into his face curiously. "Do I...Do I know you? You look rather familiar...oh my god, you're The Boy." Jensen took a step back, his pale skin going even paler, making his freckles look like spatters of mud. He blinked, and flushed, and stepped closer. "You are him."
"I'm nobody," Jared snapped, trying to tug the fruit out of Jack's hands. "Can I have my apples and things back, please?"
"I remember. You're...Jared, right? I'm Jensen," Jack said, still staring at Jared, his gaze going from head to toe, his expression on the edge of awe. "Gosh, you got... "
Jared took a deep breath, ready to try out an Outsider curse word or two-he'd been practicing. Jack finished his sentence, with a huge, bright smile. "So tall!"
Tall! Tall? Jared stared at him, nonplussed. Here he was the size and shape of a battleship and all Jack had to say was 'you're tall'?
"My name is Jay," Jared replied, glaring at the liar while he shoved Jared's fruit into a net, that Jared, with some tugging, managed to get the man to release-he was not going to offer to pay for the net. He wasn't going to be polite to a guy that probably laughed while Jared stumbled around in the dark, hurting and, and, only the Lord knew how he'd hurt out there all alone. And why would Jack lie about something so unimportant as his name? Maybe he was a compulsive liar...or just a gluepig.
He started off to his little apartment without a backward look, eager to put space between himself and that...that person. Head held high, he walked away, taking great, big, no-nonsense strides, that slowly became a brisk walk, and then a lot less brisk, until finally it was a slow-but angry-stroll. He was puffing a little but that was no one's business. The Thing took a lot out of him, energy, joy....
"I'm so surprised to see you again."
"Gobnaw!" The voice practically at his ear scared the heck out of him; he nearly dropped his fruit again. Jack went on, like they were having a pleasant meander Sunday-after-church.
"I think about you a lot, I mean, I've thought about you, you know, from time to time...I was worried the last time I saw you, what with the, what happ...well..um."
His blathering finally trailed into silence and Jared was nothing but grateful that he'd finally, finally shut up. He tried to walk faster but of course, Jack kept up easily, with his trim, muscular self and his-Jared glanced down-bow legs, Lord please forgive him, but they looked so good in those boots and those tight pants and-
"I know this is sudden and maybe you don't even remember me, I can't tell since you won't talk...um. Would you like a cup of coffee? With me, I mean?"
"No," Jared said. "I would not. Good-bye." He jumped on the trolley that would let him out at his apartment. He had a lot to think about. He peeked out of the window, and saw Jack...Jensen...standing on the corner, watching as the trolley rounded the corner.
part 18