(no subject)
Title: It's Darker Inside
Fandom: Bandom, SPN RPS
Pairings: J2
Word count: 2235
Warnings: Slavery, child abuse/neglect, suicide attempt
Summary: In the early days of Aeon, Pete doesn't know how to cope.
Author's note: OMG, I actually did it! Blackout, wooo!
Ahem. Anyway. This was written for hc_bingo for the 'suicide attempt' square. Takes place right after Falling in Love
Pete had never heard the name Jared Padalecki. That wasn’t how they worked. He knew him, though, by reputation. Jared had helped move dozens of voids and hidden hundreds more. He had more money than God, and now, apparently, he wanted to use it to change the way they did everything.
“It will be more efficient!” Jared babbled enthusiastically. “We can have more services available at less expense. The voids would be less isolated. And, at least partly self-supporting. That’s a big cause of depression among the voids we hide.”
It all sounded great to Pete, but he wasn’t sure what part Jared wanted him to play in the whole affair.
**********
Jensen had never met another void. Never talked to one, never even seen one. He wasn’t sure if Pete and Patrick were what he’d expected, because he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he had expected. They were a surprise, though, expectations or not.
Pete was small, and dark, with a brilliant white smile that he pulled out at the slightest provocation. When Jared introduced him to Jensen and explained who Jensen was, Pete pulled him into a hug and held him tightly for a full minute. There were two surprises, then, the smiles and the hug. Jensen didn’t have that much happiness to share, and his parents had kept him. Sometimes, though, he wondered if Pete used those signs of happiness as protection, as a shield. Sometimes, Pete would do something, would start to pick up the clutter in the living room, or stack the dishwasher, and Jared would look from Pete to Jensen and frown. Jensen felt sort of defensive about it. They were just acting as they’d been taught.
Patrick, now Jensen didn’t know what to make of him at all. He was smaller than Pete, fair where he was dark, but his smiles were rare and short lived. With Patrick, there were questions. Lots of questions, about what Jared was planning to do, and why, and how. Sometimes they were more like accusations. Jensen didn’t know what to do when Patrick asked Jared how he would select the voids for the factory, or how he would keep the voids from hurting one another or how Jared would keep his secrets safe with everything else he meant to do. It frightened Jensen. Patrick’s anger was something so forbidden, almost unimaginable. Jared, for his part, simply answered Patrick’s questions, quietly, honestly. Jensen wasn’t sure why Patrick was so hard to win over.
*********
Patrick was angry, in a way he never had been before. He didn’t entirely understand it. Being angry at his parents’ unfair treatment, that was normal and expected. Being angry at his shitty luck in life, he was used to that. But he’d had an actual, real stroke of unbelievably good luck. He’d been rescued from a miserable fate by members of the resistance, and now he was safe. He should have been relieved. He should have been grateful.
But being grateful for being treated like a fucking human being didn’t sit so well with Patrick. He watched Jared like a hawk, waiting for the moment when he turned and accused Patrick of not appreciating Jared’s kindness. When that happened, Patrick would be ready.
He was ready, but it didn’t happen.
It was worse, because Pete so clearly was grateful for every scrap of decency offered to him. Patrick didn’t know much about Pete’s parents. Only the things they all knew. They were part of Colt13, and they’d given Pete up to protect their operation. Patrick guessed a lot more from things he observed. The way Pete tried not to take up any space, tried not to need things. Jared and Jensen went to get them clothes and other necessities. At first Pete wouldn’t admit to needing anything, and once Jared wore him down he would only accept the barest minimum. Even Patrick was used to having more than what Pete was eventually pushed to accept.
Jared’s friend Chris came around one day with his guitar. Pete’s reaction had been hard to miss, but it had still taken Patrick nearly two full days to get the story out of him, and the rest of the week to get him to accept the guitar Jared insisted on buying for him. In the end, he only picked it up because Patrick had asked Pete to teach him to play. Patrick hadn’t expected to like making music so much, but he did.
************
Jared didn’t want to leave Pete and Patrick at the factory. It was time, though. Schechter was fully established as foreman, and between him and Jared, they had hired trustworthy people. The factory was ready to start running, and for that he needed Pete and Patrick on site, to tell him the things the voids needed that they wouldn’t admit to anyone else.
The factory itself wasn’t much. The living quarters were sparse. That was the first thing Jared planned to tackle. He got Pete and Patrick set up in a room with cots, though, and made it as comfortable as he could.
He’d been watching the two of them. Mostly Pete, not so much Patrick. Patrick was extremely pissed off, with Jared, with his parents, with the world. It was a pretty healthy way to feel, under the circumstances. At least as far as Jared was concerned. He was more worried about Pete, who, as far as Jared could tell, wasn’t angry at all.
He wasn’t sure if Pete was simply trying not to show his anger for whatever reason, or if he actually wasn’t angry, didn’t believe he was worth feeling anger over. Jared resolved to be watchful, to keep track of how Pete was doing, not let him go through whatever it was alone. Jared knew Pete was his responsibility now. So when they got the phone call from Schechter, late one night, Jared’s fear was compounded by a sense of failure.
**********
Patrick woke up in the early hours of the morning to find he was alone in the small room he shared with Pete. That wasn’t so unusual; Pete didn’t sleep well, and never for more than a few hours at a time, so he often got up to wander around in the middle of the night. But he’d been acting strangely and seemed sad, and Patrick was worried. He got up and went looking.
A friend of Jared’s, a doctor, was coming by every day or so to check up on things. She’d been working through all the slaves, giving checkups, trying to see the ones who were clearly ill or injured first. She’d prescribed medication to a few of them, and they’d been keeping it locked up in a bathroom on the second floor, where the offices were. Patrick wasn’t thinking about that when he went upstairs, he was just thinking that Pete liked to sit on the roof and look at the stars, but he noticed light coming from underneath the bathroom door and changed direction.
The door was locked, so he knocked on it. “Pete?” he called. “Pete, are you in there?”
There was no answer, but Patrick heard noise from inside the room, and he knew it had to be Pete. Brian would be at his own home, and Patrick and Pete were the only other people who had keys. Patrick kept his own key on a chain around his neck, and, remembering it, he pulled the chain over his head and held the key in the palm of his hand.
He hesitated over letting himself into the room. Pete probably wanted to be left alone and wouldn’t welcome Patrick’s intrusion. Patrick knew, though, that he couldn’t just go back to his cot on the ground floor and go back to sleep without at least checking to make sure Pete was alright.
“I’m coming in,” he called, just before slipping his key into the lock.
The sound of the lock tumbling provoked a reaction from Pete, who snapped, “Go away, Patrick!” His voice was shaky and didn’t hold nearly the amount of venom Pete was capable of, though, so Patrick ignored it.
It was a small bathroom, with two tiny toilet stalls and one dirty sink. There was a cabinet above it with a mirrored door, where Patrick could see Pete’s face reflected. Not very well, because his head was down, but he could see that Pete was looking at something.
“Everything alright?” Patrick asked. Pete nodded absently.
“You were gone,” Patrick said uncertainly. “I was worried.”
Pete changed his nod to a shake, and Patrick wasn’t sure if he was denying that Patrick had been worried, or that he should have been worried. He took a step into the room, and Pete stiffened.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Pete shifted on his feet, put something on the counter by the sink which rattled. “You should go,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“If you hang around here I’m going to lose my nerve.”
“Your nerve to do what?” Patrick had a bad feeling and stepped up behind Pete, trying to look over his shoulder. He had his hand resting on the counter, but underneath it Patrick could see a bottle, a little white pill bottle. He wasn’t sure what was in it, but the sight made him still.
“What am I doing here, ‘Trick?”
Pete had used the nickname a couple of times before, and it had taken Patrick by surprise, but he hadn’t minded it. It had been kind of cool, actually. He’d never had a nickname before. He wondered what it meant that Pete used it now.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... what am I here for? What’s the point?”
“We’re... we’re helping people.”
Pete laughed a little and gave his head a tight shake. “Jared is helping people. Brian is helping people. What am I doing? I’m just, sitting around, taking up space.”
“Then that’s what I’m doing too,” Patrick pointed out. Pete actually half turned at that, looking startled.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean you. I mean...” he bit his lip, looking miserable, and Patrick took pity.
“I know,” he said. “I’ve been working really fucking hard since we got here. You have been, too. If Brian didn’t have us, he’d have to hire someone. So what’s really wrong?”
Pete didn’t look reassured. “It’s just. Not. I can’t do this.” His voice cracked a little, and Patrick wanted to reach out, but he held himself back. He’d learned that Pete had to be approached on his own terms.
“I can’t let them rely on me for this, ‘Trick, I just can’t.”
“Pete...” He’d started to cry in earnest, and Patrick didn’t know what to do.
“I’m going to ruin everything, I always do...”
“No, you won’t. You know how to do this stuff.”
“Oh, God, and you know how it all turned out last time, it’s going to happen again, only worse...” Pete twisted his shaking hands around the pill bottle, trying to get the lid off. They wouldn’t cooperate, and Patrick reached forward reflexively.
“Here,” he said, “Let me help.”
Pete responded to Patrick’s offer, handing the pills over without thinking. Patrick took the bottle and pocketed it, ignoring Pete’s murmured protest. He reached out and held Pete’s shoulders firmly. Pete leaned into his grip and whimpered softly.
“I don’t - I don’t really know what to do here,” Patrick admitted awkwardly. Pete tried to pull away, but Patrick wouldn’t let go. “Stop that. I’m just saying. I’ll probably just end up saying something stupid, but I want to help. Um.” He paused and listened to Pete breathe. He’d calmed down a little, wasn’t shaking quite as hard.
“I’d be really upset if you hurt yourself,” Patrick settled for at last. “Do you believe me?”
Pete shrugged, which was a somewhat underwhelming response, really, but at least it was honest. Patrick forced himself to struggle on. “Did something happen, to make this...” Patrick waved his hand around to encompass Pete, the grubby bathroom and the pills he’d relinquished. “Is it... did I do something? Or is there something I can do, to help?” Pete didn’t respond and Patrick felt even more at a loss. He started to wonder who he could go to to ask for help. There was a phone upstairs Patrick could use to call Brian, or even Jared if he had to. Then they would take over, it wouldn’t be his responsibility anymore. But that would mean moving Pete or leaving him alone, and Patrick wasn’t sure either one was a good idea.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked at last, desperately, and Pete clung to him even more.
“Stay,” he whispered. “I’m afraid, and I don’t want to fail everyone. Don’t let me.”
“Okay,” said Patrick. “I won’t. I mean, I’m not going anywhere, and you shouldn’t worry so much about failing. You’re not... you’re just a guy, right? You do fine. Shitty things have happened, but they weren’t your fault.”
Pete breathed out, a harsh rushing breath, and Patrick finally let himself think about getting to the phone, calling someone who would know what to do. Jared with his money and his contacts and his everything, surely there would be something he could do. Otherwise, what was he good for?
“Come for a walk with me, Pete,” said Patrick, and got him moving, one step at a time.
Fandom: Bandom, SPN RPS
Pairings: J2
Word count: 2235
Warnings: Slavery, child abuse/neglect, suicide attempt
Summary: In the early days of Aeon, Pete doesn't know how to cope.
Author's note: OMG, I actually did it! Blackout, wooo!
Ahem. Anyway. This was written for hc_bingo for the 'suicide attempt' square. Takes place right after Falling in Love
Pete had never heard the name Jared Padalecki. That wasn’t how they worked. He knew him, though, by reputation. Jared had helped move dozens of voids and hidden hundreds more. He had more money than God, and now, apparently, he wanted to use it to change the way they did everything.
“It will be more efficient!” Jared babbled enthusiastically. “We can have more services available at less expense. The voids would be less isolated. And, at least partly self-supporting. That’s a big cause of depression among the voids we hide.”
It all sounded great to Pete, but he wasn’t sure what part Jared wanted him to play in the whole affair.
**********
Jensen had never met another void. Never talked to one, never even seen one. He wasn’t sure if Pete and Patrick were what he’d expected, because he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he had expected. They were a surprise, though, expectations or not.
Pete was small, and dark, with a brilliant white smile that he pulled out at the slightest provocation. When Jared introduced him to Jensen and explained who Jensen was, Pete pulled him into a hug and held him tightly for a full minute. There were two surprises, then, the smiles and the hug. Jensen didn’t have that much happiness to share, and his parents had kept him. Sometimes, though, he wondered if Pete used those signs of happiness as protection, as a shield. Sometimes, Pete would do something, would start to pick up the clutter in the living room, or stack the dishwasher, and Jared would look from Pete to Jensen and frown. Jensen felt sort of defensive about it. They were just acting as they’d been taught.
Patrick, now Jensen didn’t know what to make of him at all. He was smaller than Pete, fair where he was dark, but his smiles were rare and short lived. With Patrick, there were questions. Lots of questions, about what Jared was planning to do, and why, and how. Sometimes they were more like accusations. Jensen didn’t know what to do when Patrick asked Jared how he would select the voids for the factory, or how he would keep the voids from hurting one another or how Jared would keep his secrets safe with everything else he meant to do. It frightened Jensen. Patrick’s anger was something so forbidden, almost unimaginable. Jared, for his part, simply answered Patrick’s questions, quietly, honestly. Jensen wasn’t sure why Patrick was so hard to win over.
*********
Patrick was angry, in a way he never had been before. He didn’t entirely understand it. Being angry at his parents’ unfair treatment, that was normal and expected. Being angry at his shitty luck in life, he was used to that. But he’d had an actual, real stroke of unbelievably good luck. He’d been rescued from a miserable fate by members of the resistance, and now he was safe. He should have been relieved. He should have been grateful.
But being grateful for being treated like a fucking human being didn’t sit so well with Patrick. He watched Jared like a hawk, waiting for the moment when he turned and accused Patrick of not appreciating Jared’s kindness. When that happened, Patrick would be ready.
He was ready, but it didn’t happen.
It was worse, because Pete so clearly was grateful for every scrap of decency offered to him. Patrick didn’t know much about Pete’s parents. Only the things they all knew. They were part of Colt13, and they’d given Pete up to protect their operation. Patrick guessed a lot more from things he observed. The way Pete tried not to take up any space, tried not to need things. Jared and Jensen went to get them clothes and other necessities. At first Pete wouldn’t admit to needing anything, and once Jared wore him down he would only accept the barest minimum. Even Patrick was used to having more than what Pete was eventually pushed to accept.
Jared’s friend Chris came around one day with his guitar. Pete’s reaction had been hard to miss, but it had still taken Patrick nearly two full days to get the story out of him, and the rest of the week to get him to accept the guitar Jared insisted on buying for him. In the end, he only picked it up because Patrick had asked Pete to teach him to play. Patrick hadn’t expected to like making music so much, but he did.
************
Jared didn’t want to leave Pete and Patrick at the factory. It was time, though. Schechter was fully established as foreman, and between him and Jared, they had hired trustworthy people. The factory was ready to start running, and for that he needed Pete and Patrick on site, to tell him the things the voids needed that they wouldn’t admit to anyone else.
The factory itself wasn’t much. The living quarters were sparse. That was the first thing Jared planned to tackle. He got Pete and Patrick set up in a room with cots, though, and made it as comfortable as he could.
He’d been watching the two of them. Mostly Pete, not so much Patrick. Patrick was extremely pissed off, with Jared, with his parents, with the world. It was a pretty healthy way to feel, under the circumstances. At least as far as Jared was concerned. He was more worried about Pete, who, as far as Jared could tell, wasn’t angry at all.
He wasn’t sure if Pete was simply trying not to show his anger for whatever reason, or if he actually wasn’t angry, didn’t believe he was worth feeling anger over. Jared resolved to be watchful, to keep track of how Pete was doing, not let him go through whatever it was alone. Jared knew Pete was his responsibility now. So when they got the phone call from Schechter, late one night, Jared’s fear was compounded by a sense of failure.
**********
Patrick woke up in the early hours of the morning to find he was alone in the small room he shared with Pete. That wasn’t so unusual; Pete didn’t sleep well, and never for more than a few hours at a time, so he often got up to wander around in the middle of the night. But he’d been acting strangely and seemed sad, and Patrick was worried. He got up and went looking.
A friend of Jared’s, a doctor, was coming by every day or so to check up on things. She’d been working through all the slaves, giving checkups, trying to see the ones who were clearly ill or injured first. She’d prescribed medication to a few of them, and they’d been keeping it locked up in a bathroom on the second floor, where the offices were. Patrick wasn’t thinking about that when he went upstairs, he was just thinking that Pete liked to sit on the roof and look at the stars, but he noticed light coming from underneath the bathroom door and changed direction.
The door was locked, so he knocked on it. “Pete?” he called. “Pete, are you in there?”
There was no answer, but Patrick heard noise from inside the room, and he knew it had to be Pete. Brian would be at his own home, and Patrick and Pete were the only other people who had keys. Patrick kept his own key on a chain around his neck, and, remembering it, he pulled the chain over his head and held the key in the palm of his hand.
He hesitated over letting himself into the room. Pete probably wanted to be left alone and wouldn’t welcome Patrick’s intrusion. Patrick knew, though, that he couldn’t just go back to his cot on the ground floor and go back to sleep without at least checking to make sure Pete was alright.
“I’m coming in,” he called, just before slipping his key into the lock.
The sound of the lock tumbling provoked a reaction from Pete, who snapped, “Go away, Patrick!” His voice was shaky and didn’t hold nearly the amount of venom Pete was capable of, though, so Patrick ignored it.
It was a small bathroom, with two tiny toilet stalls and one dirty sink. There was a cabinet above it with a mirrored door, where Patrick could see Pete’s face reflected. Not very well, because his head was down, but he could see that Pete was looking at something.
“Everything alright?” Patrick asked. Pete nodded absently.
“You were gone,” Patrick said uncertainly. “I was worried.”
Pete changed his nod to a shake, and Patrick wasn’t sure if he was denying that Patrick had been worried, or that he should have been worried. He took a step into the room, and Pete stiffened.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Pete shifted on his feet, put something on the counter by the sink which rattled. “You should go,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“If you hang around here I’m going to lose my nerve.”
“Your nerve to do what?” Patrick had a bad feeling and stepped up behind Pete, trying to look over his shoulder. He had his hand resting on the counter, but underneath it Patrick could see a bottle, a little white pill bottle. He wasn’t sure what was in it, but the sight made him still.
“What am I doing here, ‘Trick?”
Pete had used the nickname a couple of times before, and it had taken Patrick by surprise, but he hadn’t minded it. It had been kind of cool, actually. He’d never had a nickname before. He wondered what it meant that Pete used it now.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... what am I here for? What’s the point?”
“We’re... we’re helping people.”
Pete laughed a little and gave his head a tight shake. “Jared is helping people. Brian is helping people. What am I doing? I’m just, sitting around, taking up space.”
“Then that’s what I’m doing too,” Patrick pointed out. Pete actually half turned at that, looking startled.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean you. I mean...” he bit his lip, looking miserable, and Patrick took pity.
“I know,” he said. “I’ve been working really fucking hard since we got here. You have been, too. If Brian didn’t have us, he’d have to hire someone. So what’s really wrong?”
Pete didn’t look reassured. “It’s just. Not. I can’t do this.” His voice cracked a little, and Patrick wanted to reach out, but he held himself back. He’d learned that Pete had to be approached on his own terms.
“I can’t let them rely on me for this, ‘Trick, I just can’t.”
“Pete...” He’d started to cry in earnest, and Patrick didn’t know what to do.
“I’m going to ruin everything, I always do...”
“No, you won’t. You know how to do this stuff.”
“Oh, God, and you know how it all turned out last time, it’s going to happen again, only worse...” Pete twisted his shaking hands around the pill bottle, trying to get the lid off. They wouldn’t cooperate, and Patrick reached forward reflexively.
“Here,” he said, “Let me help.”
Pete responded to Patrick’s offer, handing the pills over without thinking. Patrick took the bottle and pocketed it, ignoring Pete’s murmured protest. He reached out and held Pete’s shoulders firmly. Pete leaned into his grip and whimpered softly.
“I don’t - I don’t really know what to do here,” Patrick admitted awkwardly. Pete tried to pull away, but Patrick wouldn’t let go. “Stop that. I’m just saying. I’ll probably just end up saying something stupid, but I want to help. Um.” He paused and listened to Pete breathe. He’d calmed down a little, wasn’t shaking quite as hard.
“I’d be really upset if you hurt yourself,” Patrick settled for at last. “Do you believe me?”
Pete shrugged, which was a somewhat underwhelming response, really, but at least it was honest. Patrick forced himself to struggle on. “Did something happen, to make this...” Patrick waved his hand around to encompass Pete, the grubby bathroom and the pills he’d relinquished. “Is it... did I do something? Or is there something I can do, to help?” Pete didn’t respond and Patrick felt even more at a loss. He started to wonder who he could go to to ask for help. There was a phone upstairs Patrick could use to call Brian, or even Jared if he had to. Then they would take over, it wouldn’t be his responsibility anymore. But that would mean moving Pete or leaving him alone, and Patrick wasn’t sure either one was a good idea.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked at last, desperately, and Pete clung to him even more.
“Stay,” he whispered. “I’m afraid, and I don’t want to fail everyone. Don’t let me.”
“Okay,” said Patrick. “I won’t. I mean, I’m not going anywhere, and you shouldn’t worry so much about failing. You’re not... you’re just a guy, right? You do fine. Shitty things have happened, but they weren’t your fault.”
Pete breathed out, a harsh rushing breath, and Patrick finally let himself think about getting to the phone, calling someone who would know what to do. Jared with his money and his contacts and his everything, surely there would be something he could do. Otherwise, what was he good for?
“Come for a walk with me, Pete,” said Patrick, and got him moving, one step at a time.