Fiction - Fissures
This ficlet came about as a result of this picture, it really bothered me how sad and lost Tom looked in it. And, also, how did a certain striped shirt that looked really out of place with what a certain someone usually wears suddenly appear?
Title: Fissures
Fandom: Smallville/Supernatural RPS
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Mike/Tom Jensen/Jared implied
Disclaimer: They're not mine, darn it, and never will be. This is so far from reality it resides somewhere east of eden, just outside the Twilight Zone.
Summary: It only takes one hand to save you from drowning...
Michael knelt on the floor, holding back Tom's hair, feeling the tremors coursing through his body as his stomach attempted to turn itself inside out. It felt like hours that they'd been in here; Tom miserable and sweating, Mike silently cursing the day he ever set eyes on Jamie in the first place.
Hearing the door swing open behind them Mike's head whipped around, afraid that one of the CW execs would barge in and see one of their 'Golden Boys' kneeling on the floor. Relief swamped through him when he saw who it was.
"Jen, you scared the shit out of me. Are we still clear?"
Jensen glanced back over his shoulder as he carefully re-shut the door. Mike wished again that the fucking thing had a lock on it but when Tom started turning green he knew he couldn't be choosy. He'd had to get him the hell out of there before any one else saw how rough he looked.
Jensen edged on into the room, concern for Tom clear on his face.
"Yeah, Mikey, we're good. Jared got one of the security guards he knew from Gilmore to pick up a replacement shirt for Tom." "He looked down at the shirt he still held in his hands, frowning slightly. "It's got fucking stripes on it but, right now it's better than the alternative."
Mike looked over his shoulder at the shirt they'd discarded, stained with wine and whatever the fuck had been spread on those stupid crackers Kristen had insisted Tom just 'had to try'. He knew that had been the proverbial straw because Tom had bolted soon afterward. "Yeah, I'm afraid that shirt is toast, I doubt Tommy'll wear it again."
Leaning over Mike snagged the wash towel he'd had soaking in the bucket of ice Jared had brought him. Wringing it out one-handed he pressed it to the back of Tom's neck like his mom had always done for him when he'd been sick like this. He felt the shivers still running through Tom but at least he wasn't gagging any more.
Mike ran the cool cloth over Tom's neck and face, smoothing the sweat-slicked hair back away from his eyes. Carefully he tilted Tom's face up, glazed green eyes blinking slowly open as Tom tried to focus on Mike.
"M… Mike?" Tom groaned low in his throat, leaning back against Mike's chest as they knelt on the tile floor. His voice rasped harshly from the abuse it had just experienced. "Fuck, I think I'd have to feel better to fucking die…"
Mike was vaguely aware of movement to his right as he concentrated on Tom, still running the cloth over the too-pale skin. Jensen must have moved to get rid of the evidence as he heard the flush as he pulled Tom closer against him. "Shit, Tommy, did you get any sleep last night, man? Or eat anything today before you started tossing back the damned free drinks? Tommy…"
Tom pulled feebly against Mike's hold, it was a testament to just how messed up he was that Mike could hold him. "No, Mike… I don't need any more fucking lectures from you…"
"Yeah? Well, tough shit, bitch, because as long as you keep pulling this stupid, self-destructive crap you're gonna hear them." Shaking his shoulders, Mike forced Tom to meet his eyes. "She's not worth your trying to kill yourself, Tommy… Much less the mess you're making of your career…"
Mike shook Tom again, more gently this time. "Do you have any idea how many damned CW hotshots are crawling around outside that door right now? One of them, Tom, just one of the bastards seeing you wasted with your head in the fucking toilet and you're gone."
Tom stared at Mike, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Mike, I'm…"
Mike raised his hand, cutting Tom off. "No, Tommy, I fucking don't want to hear it…" Looking up, he motioned for Jensen, sitting quietly on the edge of the counter out of the way. "Jenny, help me out here, man…"
"Sure, Mike…"
As Tom looked at them in helpless confusion, Mike and Jensen got him up and seated on the closed toilet seat. Mike knelt down in front of Tom again, placing his hand on his bare chest, feeling the panicked thrum of Tom's heartbeat against his palm as he raised his eyes to meet his.
"No, Tommy… no more excuses. We are going to get your sorry ass cleaned up, you are going to fucking eat something and then we're going to smile and go do our god damned job."
He absently wiped away the moisture tracking down Tom's face with his fingertips as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to gather him up and get the hell out of Dodge but Mike knew they couldn't; at least not yet. "Tommy, I swear, man, if I see you drinking anything else today it damned well better be bottled water or ginger ale." Mike tried to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he pushed Tom's hair away from his forehead. "Do you hear me, Tom?"
The pain Mike heard crackling through Tom's voice as he closed his eyes and whispered, "Yeah, Mike." made him want nothing more than to go find Jamie and drag her in here just to ask the bitch if she was happy with herself. If this was what she wanted? A part of Mike knew he wasn't being fair but that part was pretty much buried by the weight of watching someone he loved tearing themselves apart before his eyes.
Giving into the impulse, Mike leaned forward, placing a single kiss against Tom's brow, the skin cool, a little clammy beneath his lips.
"Tommy, no matter what she's said, you are not alone. You've got me, you've got Jenson. Hell, you've even got Jared's skinny ass. Just do this for me and, as soon as it's done, we're out of here. We'll get on a plane first flight out in the morning and go home."
Another hard shiver ran through Tom, his skin prickling in goose bumps under Mike's fingertips. Mike had to lean closer to hear the softly whispered words he spoke.
"I don't know where home is any more, Mikey."
Mike put his hand under Tom's chin as he gently forced his head up to meet his eyes. New anger burned through him at the lost look in that fever-bright, emerald gaze.
"Sure you do, Tommy, its right here…" Taking Tom's hand in his Mike placed it over his own heart. "Just where it's always been." Jensen moved forward, his hand coming to rest on Tom's shoulder as he lent his own weight to Mike's words.
Mike watched as the message hit home, Tom sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head 'yes' in silent response.
Reaching over Mike snagged the striped nightmare of a shirt Jen had brought him, offering it to Tom. "Now, come on, it's Showtime. Time to go smile and work those acting chops you've learned from my august personage the last five years."
Voice muffled as he pulled it over his head, Tommy laughed, the sound rusty from under use. "Yeah, Rosenbaum, maybe in your dreams, old man..."
Later, Mike watched from the sidelines as Tom, Jared and Jenson worked the room. He smiled watching Tyler's face light up, wearing his Superman belt buckle as he got the chance to talk to Tommy.
Tom had another glass in his hand but this time Mike knew it held nothing more damning than Sprite to settle his stomach. Mike's heart clinched as he watched Tom step back, a look of pain coloring his face for a split second as Tyler shook Jared's hand.
Mike vowed silently to himself that things were sure as shit going to change. This whole break would be about healing. About dragging Tommy home with him, back home to Indiana so that his Mom could spoil them both. About weeks spent in Texas getting shit-faced with Jenny and Jared, laughing with old friends who didn't give a fuck about their 'names'.
Moving across the room Mike placed his hand on Tom's arm, feeling his start of surprise.
"Hey, you holding up okay?"
Tom nodded 'yes'. "Yeah. Think we can get out of here now? My head is killing me and my face hurts from smiling so damned much today."
Mike nodded, gently squeezing Tom's arm before releasing it to lean over to Jenson.
"Jen, Tom and I are gonna head out, you and Jared coming over to the room later?"
Jensen smiled at Mike, his own tiredness shining through for a moment. "Yeah, man, we'll be there. Fuck knows we've more than done our share, my brain is fried."
Lying in the darkness a few hours later, Mike pulled Tom closer to him, hearing the quiet murmur of voices from the next room as Jen and Jared settled in for the night.
Fuck, it'd been a long day, and an even longer night. For the first time in too damned long his world felt complete, instead of fractured. Sighing, Mike closed his eyes, surrendering to the sleep waiting to pull him under.
fin
Title: Fissures
Fandom: Smallville/Supernatural RPS
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Mike/Tom Jensen/Jared implied
Disclaimer: They're not mine, darn it, and never will be. This is so far from reality it resides somewhere east of eden, just outside the Twilight Zone.
Summary: It only takes one hand to save you from drowning...
Michael knelt on the floor, holding back Tom's hair, feeling the tremors coursing through his body as his stomach attempted to turn itself inside out. It felt like hours that they'd been in here; Tom miserable and sweating, Mike silently cursing the day he ever set eyes on Jamie in the first place.
Hearing the door swing open behind them Mike's head whipped around, afraid that one of the CW execs would barge in and see one of their 'Golden Boys' kneeling on the floor. Relief swamped through him when he saw who it was.
"Jen, you scared the shit out of me. Are we still clear?"
Jensen glanced back over his shoulder as he carefully re-shut the door. Mike wished again that the fucking thing had a lock on it but when Tom started turning green he knew he couldn't be choosy. He'd had to get him the hell out of there before any one else saw how rough he looked.
Jensen edged on into the room, concern for Tom clear on his face.
"Yeah, Mikey, we're good. Jared got one of the security guards he knew from Gilmore to pick up a replacement shirt for Tom." "He looked down at the shirt he still held in his hands, frowning slightly. "It's got fucking stripes on it but, right now it's better than the alternative."
Mike looked over his shoulder at the shirt they'd discarded, stained with wine and whatever the fuck had been spread on those stupid crackers Kristen had insisted Tom just 'had to try'. He knew that had been the proverbial straw because Tom had bolted soon afterward. "Yeah, I'm afraid that shirt is toast, I doubt Tommy'll wear it again."
Leaning over Mike snagged the wash towel he'd had soaking in the bucket of ice Jared had brought him. Wringing it out one-handed he pressed it to the back of Tom's neck like his mom had always done for him when he'd been sick like this. He felt the shivers still running through Tom but at least he wasn't gagging any more.
Mike ran the cool cloth over Tom's neck and face, smoothing the sweat-slicked hair back away from his eyes. Carefully he tilted Tom's face up, glazed green eyes blinking slowly open as Tom tried to focus on Mike.
"M… Mike?" Tom groaned low in his throat, leaning back against Mike's chest as they knelt on the tile floor. His voice rasped harshly from the abuse it had just experienced. "Fuck, I think I'd have to feel better to fucking die…"
Mike was vaguely aware of movement to his right as he concentrated on Tom, still running the cloth over the too-pale skin. Jensen must have moved to get rid of the evidence as he heard the flush as he pulled Tom closer against him. "Shit, Tommy, did you get any sleep last night, man? Or eat anything today before you started tossing back the damned free drinks? Tommy…"
Tom pulled feebly against Mike's hold, it was a testament to just how messed up he was that Mike could hold him. "No, Mike… I don't need any more fucking lectures from you…"
"Yeah? Well, tough shit, bitch, because as long as you keep pulling this stupid, self-destructive crap you're gonna hear them." Shaking his shoulders, Mike forced Tom to meet his eyes. "She's not worth your trying to kill yourself, Tommy… Much less the mess you're making of your career…"
Mike shook Tom again, more gently this time. "Do you have any idea how many damned CW hotshots are crawling around outside that door right now? One of them, Tom, just one of the bastards seeing you wasted with your head in the fucking toilet and you're gone."
Tom stared at Mike, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Mike, I'm…"
Mike raised his hand, cutting Tom off. "No, Tommy, I fucking don't want to hear it…" Looking up, he motioned for Jensen, sitting quietly on the edge of the counter out of the way. "Jenny, help me out here, man…"
"Sure, Mike…"
As Tom looked at them in helpless confusion, Mike and Jensen got him up and seated on the closed toilet seat. Mike knelt down in front of Tom again, placing his hand on his bare chest, feeling the panicked thrum of Tom's heartbeat against his palm as he raised his eyes to meet his.
"No, Tommy… no more excuses. We are going to get your sorry ass cleaned up, you are going to fucking eat something and then we're going to smile and go do our god damned job."
He absently wiped away the moisture tracking down Tom's face with his fingertips as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to gather him up and get the hell out of Dodge but Mike knew they couldn't; at least not yet. "Tommy, I swear, man, if I see you drinking anything else today it damned well better be bottled water or ginger ale." Mike tried to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he pushed Tom's hair away from his forehead. "Do you hear me, Tom?"
The pain Mike heard crackling through Tom's voice as he closed his eyes and whispered, "Yeah, Mike." made him want nothing more than to go find Jamie and drag her in here just to ask the bitch if she was happy with herself. If this was what she wanted? A part of Mike knew he wasn't being fair but that part was pretty much buried by the weight of watching someone he loved tearing themselves apart before his eyes.
Giving into the impulse, Mike leaned forward, placing a single kiss against Tom's brow, the skin cool, a little clammy beneath his lips.
"Tommy, no matter what she's said, you are not alone. You've got me, you've got Jenson. Hell, you've even got Jared's skinny ass. Just do this for me and, as soon as it's done, we're out of here. We'll get on a plane first flight out in the morning and go home."
Another hard shiver ran through Tom, his skin prickling in goose bumps under Mike's fingertips. Mike had to lean closer to hear the softly whispered words he spoke.
"I don't know where home is any more, Mikey."
Mike put his hand under Tom's chin as he gently forced his head up to meet his eyes. New anger burned through him at the lost look in that fever-bright, emerald gaze.
"Sure you do, Tommy, its right here…" Taking Tom's hand in his Mike placed it over his own heart. "Just where it's always been." Jensen moved forward, his hand coming to rest on Tom's shoulder as he lent his own weight to Mike's words.
Mike watched as the message hit home, Tom sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head 'yes' in silent response.
Reaching over Mike snagged the striped nightmare of a shirt Jen had brought him, offering it to Tom. "Now, come on, it's Showtime. Time to go smile and work those acting chops you've learned from my august personage the last five years."
Voice muffled as he pulled it over his head, Tommy laughed, the sound rusty from under use. "Yeah, Rosenbaum, maybe in your dreams, old man..."
Later, Mike watched from the sidelines as Tom, Jared and Jenson worked the room. He smiled watching Tyler's face light up, wearing his Superman belt buckle as he got the chance to talk to Tommy.
Tom had another glass in his hand but this time Mike knew it held nothing more damning than Sprite to settle his stomach. Mike's heart clinched as he watched Tom step back, a look of pain coloring his face for a split second as Tyler shook Jared's hand.
Mike vowed silently to himself that things were sure as shit going to change. This whole break would be about healing. About dragging Tommy home with him, back home to Indiana so that his Mom could spoil them both. About weeks spent in Texas getting shit-faced with Jenny and Jared, laughing with old friends who didn't give a fuck about their 'names'.
Moving across the room Mike placed his hand on Tom's arm, feeling his start of surprise.
"Hey, you holding up okay?"
Tom nodded 'yes'. "Yeah. Think we can get out of here now? My head is killing me and my face hurts from smiling so damned much today."
Mike nodded, gently squeezing Tom's arm before releasing it to lean over to Jenson.
"Jen, Tom and I are gonna head out, you and Jared coming over to the room later?"
Jensen smiled at Mike, his own tiredness shining through for a moment. "Yeah, man, we'll be there. Fuck knows we've more than done our share, my brain is fried."
Lying in the darkness a few hours later, Mike pulled Tom closer to him, hearing the quiet murmur of voices from the next room as Jen and Jared settled in for the night.
Fuck, it'd been a long day, and an even longer night. For the first time in too damned long his world felt complete, instead of fractured. Sighing, Mike closed his eyes, surrendering to the sleep waiting to pull him under.
fin