That Stockholm Thing 7/7 (J2 AU, NC-17)
Title: That Stockholm Thing
Author: dijisun
Pairings: Jensen/Jared, mentions Jared/Sandy and Jensen/Danneel
Summary: Jensen gets kidnapped
Rating: NC-17, AU
Warnings: angst, language, some violence, DARK themes.
Disclaimer: never happened, all lies.
Feedback: yes please!
A/N2: unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. Last chapter! Thank you so much for reading.
‘When the cabin’s owner comes home, the guy’s waiting, with a gun. He jumps the owner, locks him up in one of the bedrooms and takes over the cabin, reckons he’s got himself a sweet deal. Central heating, power shower, enough food and alcohol for an army, hot tub in the backyard. The guy gets comfortable, decides we’ll stay put for a while.’
He searches Jared’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. But Jared is expressionless, blank, his movements mechanical as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.
‘We end up staying put for a long while. Jared - the cabin’s owner - he does the cooking and brings a tray to my room once a day. Other than that, I don’t see much of him. I see plenty of the guy, though. I notice that he drinks a hell of a lot. He’s a mean drunk. He was extra mean today, used me for a punch-bag just because I asked how come Jared hadn’t shown all morning. Your fucking boyfriend climbed out the window, he says, we’re leaving, now. Before the cops drop in.’
‘I’m cuffed and chained, can’t do anything to block the guy’s punches or stop him from hauling me outside. Like I said, he’s a psycho. He’s got the dogs locked inside the cabin, and instead of going while the going’s good, he’s pouring gasoline all over the front porch. He tosses a match down, and that’s when Jared rushes him from the side of the cabin and knocks him out with an axe handle. After we get the dogs out of the cabin, the guy’s gone and so is his truck.’ Jensen’s coffee is cold. He drinks it anyway, staring at Jared over the rim of his mug. ‘The guy’s gone for good. He will never show his face again, do you understand, Jared? If he does, I swear I’ll shoot him myself.’
Jared’s expression shifts, going from unreadable to transparent, challenging him with hardened jaw and narrowed eyes, sizing him up. Probably wondering how he can be certain Jensen’s not going to betray him, squeal on him the second they step into the police station. Well, that’s the acid test right there. Jared has got to either trust him all the way or not at all. Can’t have half and half.
Harley scratches on the sliding door, whining to be let back inside. The screeching of claws on glass stretches Jensen’s nerves even tauter. He stands his ground, knows he’s gained the advantage when Jared scrubs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
‘You’re giving me an out,’ Jared says. ‘Why?’
Because you’re a good man, Jensen thinks, and because, ‘it’s pretty fucking obvious,’ he huffs, ‘I love you.’
‘You’re not…’ Jared takes a step towards him, only to take two back. He folds his arms across his chest, tight, his t-shirt sleeves straining over the bulge of his biceps. ‘Jensen,’ soft as a sigh and underlined with desperation, ‘you’re not lying to me again, are you?’
‘I wasn’t lying then,’ he admits to himself and to Jared. ‘And I’m not lying now.’
Jared steps forward again and this time he keeps coming, grabs him up in a hug. He’s also grabbing, has a hand clamped on the back of Jared’s neck and an arm curved around his waist. If he and Jared were to stay this way for another couple days, slotted together and soaking up each other’s warmth, breathing promises into each other’s skin, if they stayed this way it’d be just fine by him.
Harley gives a disgruntled bark, and Jared laughs, pushing away. ‘I better feed them. Long drive ahead.’
‘I’ll be in the bedroom,’ Jensen says. He has a scene to set up.
*
‘Goddammit Jared, quit being a pussy and hit me already.’ His wrists are cuffed, his ankles are chained and he is losing patience with Jared’s pathetic taps.
Jared comes back with, ‘my mama told me never to hit girls.’
‘Yeah let’s do that,’ he smirks. ‘Let’s talk about your mama.’
‘Let’s not,’ Jared curls his gloved hands into fists. ‘Seriously, dude.’
‘Your mama is-’
Jared hits him, and it’s not a pathetic tap either.
*
He stifles a groan as he falls to his knees in front of the wood-chopping block in the clearing. He places his hands on the block, holds them as far apart as the cuffs allow.
Jared steps to the block, his footfalls silent in the covering of fresh snow. ‘Hold still,’ he says, taking aim with the revolver.
The shot booms out, Jensen jerks.
The link between the cuffs is broken, severed by a single bullet. Jared steps behind him and lets off another shot, and the chain shackling his ankles slackens with a metallic clunk. He inhales the harsh scent of gunpowder, extremely grateful for Jared’s excellent marksmanship. Jared, who has barely spoken to him since landing the first blow.
‘You lost the guy’s gun in the fire,’ he says, watching Jared stalk to the porch.
Jared strips off his blood splattered gloves and clothes, drops them in a heap on the porch. Naked - except for footwear - he disappears into the cabin without a word.
The snow under Jensen is melting, wet cold seeping through the fabric of his jeans to numb his knees. The rest of him isn’t numb. His bottom lip, for instance, is split, bleeding and throbbing. His left eye is swelling shut. His ribs ache. His nose isn’t broken, just feels like it.
No, he’s not numb. He is painfully happy. Will be even happier when the cabin’s on fire, flames eating up The Guy’s hair fibers and personal effects, no evidence to prove that he never existed.
*
The entire truck shakes with the force of Jared slamming the driver’s door shut. The script slides off the dashboard and the dogs stop panting in the back. That’s all he and Jared are taking with them: the dogs, the script and the clothes they’re in - watches included.
Jared rams the key into the ignition but doesn’t turn the engine on.
‘You’re not happy,’ observes Jensen.
‘Look at you,’ Jared wrenches the rearview mirror round so Jensen can take a look at his face. ‘How can I be happy knowing I did that to you?’
Jensen looks out of his window. The cabin’s burning. It is wreathed in orange and red, dancing flames and shimmering heat waves. Wood groaning and creaking, charred beams caving, gray smoke and blue sparks rising up to meet and whirl with snowflakes. It is violent and kind of beautiful, well Jensen thinks so, breath quickening as another beam crashes down with an explosion of sparks.
He turns back to Jared and says, ‘you saved my life. That’s all you did.’
‘Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I kicked the shit out of you.’
‘You saved my life,’ Jensen insists, sliding his hand onto Jared’s thigh and squeezing. ‘You have to believe that, Jared. I do.’
‘You do?’
‘Totally.’ He smiles, and his split lip twinges against the smile’s pull. ‘Ow,’ he winces, tasting copper.
Jared’s eyes darken. He leans in and licks at Jensen’s lips, laps up the blood with gentle strokes of his tongue. Hot and breathless, Jensen reluctantly pulls away but leaves his hand splayed on Jared’s thigh.
‘Get us out of here, Jay.’
Jared twists the key in the ignition. Not so much happy as grim, profile of his face set in determined lines, Jared asks, ‘this guy who fucked you up, what’s he look like?’
Atta boy, Jensen thinks, smiling despite the ensuing lip twinge. ‘Blond,’ he says, because the guy has to look nothing like Jared. ‘Dirty blond hair, raggedy beard and his teeth are yellow, nicotine stained. About my height, skinny in that tough, sinewy kinda way. His eyes are blue and sort of squinty, set too close together.’
Jared shifts the gear into drive. ‘He got a name?’
‘Told me to call him Guy.’
*
Jensen’s been in far bigger and busier places. He splits his time between LA and Vancouver for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t be feeling nervous about the trickle of post-Christmas revelers out on the streets of Jasper. But after six months of near-solitude, Jasper may as well be New York during rush hour, hectic and crowded and too boisterous for a suddenly agoraphobic guy.
‘You sure you want to do this?’ Jared asks when they’re parked outside the police station.
Is he sure he wants to tell the cops humongous lies thereby aiding and abetting Jared, becoming his accomplice? Does he want to share in Jared’s sin and have it bond them together for the rest of their lives? The answer’s scarily simple.
‘I’m definite.’
*
The broken chain rattles as he limps across to the front desk. In fact, there’s a whole lot of rattling going on, severed cuffs jangling around his wrists, panicky heart rattling in his chest. Jared, though? He’s phenomenal. Walks beside him big and confident, steadies him with a hand on the small of his back.
It’ll all work out fine as long as Jared is here, standing beside him.
The officer behind the desk glances up from the paper he’s reading, says, ‘How can I help…’ double take, and, ‘holy crap, you’re him! You’re…’
‘Jensen Ackles,’ Jensen locks his gaze with Jared’s, ‘and Jared Padalecki. We’re here to report a crime.’
The End.
Author: dijisun
Pairings: Jensen/Jared, mentions Jared/Sandy and Jensen/Danneel
Summary: Jensen gets kidnapped
Rating: NC-17, AU
Warnings: angst, language, some violence, DARK themes.
Disclaimer: never happened, all lies.
Feedback: yes please!
A/N2: unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. Last chapter! Thank you so much for reading.
‘When the cabin’s owner comes home, the guy’s waiting, with a gun. He jumps the owner, locks him up in one of the bedrooms and takes over the cabin, reckons he’s got himself a sweet deal. Central heating, power shower, enough food and alcohol for an army, hot tub in the backyard. The guy gets comfortable, decides we’ll stay put for a while.’
He searches Jared’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. But Jared is expressionless, blank, his movements mechanical as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.
‘We end up staying put for a long while. Jared - the cabin’s owner - he does the cooking and brings a tray to my room once a day. Other than that, I don’t see much of him. I see plenty of the guy, though. I notice that he drinks a hell of a lot. He’s a mean drunk. He was extra mean today, used me for a punch-bag just because I asked how come Jared hadn’t shown all morning. Your fucking boyfriend climbed out the window, he says, we’re leaving, now. Before the cops drop in.’
‘I’m cuffed and chained, can’t do anything to block the guy’s punches or stop him from hauling me outside. Like I said, he’s a psycho. He’s got the dogs locked inside the cabin, and instead of going while the going’s good, he’s pouring gasoline all over the front porch. He tosses a match down, and that’s when Jared rushes him from the side of the cabin and knocks him out with an axe handle. After we get the dogs out of the cabin, the guy’s gone and so is his truck.’ Jensen’s coffee is cold. He drinks it anyway, staring at Jared over the rim of his mug. ‘The guy’s gone for good. He will never show his face again, do you understand, Jared? If he does, I swear I’ll shoot him myself.’
Jared’s expression shifts, going from unreadable to transparent, challenging him with hardened jaw and narrowed eyes, sizing him up. Probably wondering how he can be certain Jensen’s not going to betray him, squeal on him the second they step into the police station. Well, that’s the acid test right there. Jared has got to either trust him all the way or not at all. Can’t have half and half.
Harley scratches on the sliding door, whining to be let back inside. The screeching of claws on glass stretches Jensen’s nerves even tauter. He stands his ground, knows he’s gained the advantage when Jared scrubs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
‘You’re giving me an out,’ Jared says. ‘Why?’
Because you’re a good man, Jensen thinks, and because, ‘it’s pretty fucking obvious,’ he huffs, ‘I love you.’
‘You’re not…’ Jared takes a step towards him, only to take two back. He folds his arms across his chest, tight, his t-shirt sleeves straining over the bulge of his biceps. ‘Jensen,’ soft as a sigh and underlined with desperation, ‘you’re not lying to me again, are you?’
‘I wasn’t lying then,’ he admits to himself and to Jared. ‘And I’m not lying now.’
Jared steps forward again and this time he keeps coming, grabs him up in a hug. He’s also grabbing, has a hand clamped on the back of Jared’s neck and an arm curved around his waist. If he and Jared were to stay this way for another couple days, slotted together and soaking up each other’s warmth, breathing promises into each other’s skin, if they stayed this way it’d be just fine by him.
Harley gives a disgruntled bark, and Jared laughs, pushing away. ‘I better feed them. Long drive ahead.’
‘I’ll be in the bedroom,’ Jensen says. He has a scene to set up.
*
‘Goddammit Jared, quit being a pussy and hit me already.’ His wrists are cuffed, his ankles are chained and he is losing patience with Jared’s pathetic taps.
Jared comes back with, ‘my mama told me never to hit girls.’
‘Yeah let’s do that,’ he smirks. ‘Let’s talk about your mama.’
‘Let’s not,’ Jared curls his gloved hands into fists. ‘Seriously, dude.’
‘Your mama is-’
Jared hits him, and it’s not a pathetic tap either.
*
He stifles a groan as he falls to his knees in front of the wood-chopping block in the clearing. He places his hands on the block, holds them as far apart as the cuffs allow.
Jared steps to the block, his footfalls silent in the covering of fresh snow. ‘Hold still,’ he says, taking aim with the revolver.
The shot booms out, Jensen jerks.
The link between the cuffs is broken, severed by a single bullet. Jared steps behind him and lets off another shot, and the chain shackling his ankles slackens with a metallic clunk. He inhales the harsh scent of gunpowder, extremely grateful for Jared’s excellent marksmanship. Jared, who has barely spoken to him since landing the first blow.
‘You lost the guy’s gun in the fire,’ he says, watching Jared stalk to the porch.
Jared strips off his blood splattered gloves and clothes, drops them in a heap on the porch. Naked - except for footwear - he disappears into the cabin without a word.
The snow under Jensen is melting, wet cold seeping through the fabric of his jeans to numb his knees. The rest of him isn’t numb. His bottom lip, for instance, is split, bleeding and throbbing. His left eye is swelling shut. His ribs ache. His nose isn’t broken, just feels like it.
No, he’s not numb. He is painfully happy. Will be even happier when the cabin’s on fire, flames eating up The Guy’s hair fibers and personal effects, no evidence to prove that he never existed.
*
The entire truck shakes with the force of Jared slamming the driver’s door shut. The script slides off the dashboard and the dogs stop panting in the back. That’s all he and Jared are taking with them: the dogs, the script and the clothes they’re in - watches included.
Jared rams the key into the ignition but doesn’t turn the engine on.
‘You’re not happy,’ observes Jensen.
‘Look at you,’ Jared wrenches the rearview mirror round so Jensen can take a look at his face. ‘How can I be happy knowing I did that to you?’
Jensen looks out of his window. The cabin’s burning. It is wreathed in orange and red, dancing flames and shimmering heat waves. Wood groaning and creaking, charred beams caving, gray smoke and blue sparks rising up to meet and whirl with snowflakes. It is violent and kind of beautiful, well Jensen thinks so, breath quickening as another beam crashes down with an explosion of sparks.
He turns back to Jared and says, ‘you saved my life. That’s all you did.’
‘Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I kicked the shit out of you.’
‘You saved my life,’ Jensen insists, sliding his hand onto Jared’s thigh and squeezing. ‘You have to believe that, Jared. I do.’
‘You do?’
‘Totally.’ He smiles, and his split lip twinges against the smile’s pull. ‘Ow,’ he winces, tasting copper.
Jared’s eyes darken. He leans in and licks at Jensen’s lips, laps up the blood with gentle strokes of his tongue. Hot and breathless, Jensen reluctantly pulls away but leaves his hand splayed on Jared’s thigh.
‘Get us out of here, Jay.’
Jared twists the key in the ignition. Not so much happy as grim, profile of his face set in determined lines, Jared asks, ‘this guy who fucked you up, what’s he look like?’
Atta boy, Jensen thinks, smiling despite the ensuing lip twinge. ‘Blond,’ he says, because the guy has to look nothing like Jared. ‘Dirty blond hair, raggedy beard and his teeth are yellow, nicotine stained. About my height, skinny in that tough, sinewy kinda way. His eyes are blue and sort of squinty, set too close together.’
Jared shifts the gear into drive. ‘He got a name?’
‘Told me to call him Guy.’
*
Jensen’s been in far bigger and busier places. He splits his time between LA and Vancouver for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t be feeling nervous about the trickle of post-Christmas revelers out on the streets of Jasper. But after six months of near-solitude, Jasper may as well be New York during rush hour, hectic and crowded and too boisterous for a suddenly agoraphobic guy.
‘You sure you want to do this?’ Jared asks when they’re parked outside the police station.
Is he sure he wants to tell the cops humongous lies thereby aiding and abetting Jared, becoming his accomplice? Does he want to share in Jared’s sin and have it bond them together for the rest of their lives? The answer’s scarily simple.
‘I’m definite.’
*
The broken chain rattles as he limps across to the front desk. In fact, there’s a whole lot of rattling going on, severed cuffs jangling around his wrists, panicky heart rattling in his chest. Jared, though? He’s phenomenal. Walks beside him big and confident, steadies him with a hand on the small of his back.
It’ll all work out fine as long as Jared is here, standing beside him.
The officer behind the desk glances up from the paper he’s reading, says, ‘How can I help…’ double take, and, ‘holy crap, you’re him! You’re…’
‘Jensen Ackles,’ Jensen locks his gaze with Jared’s, ‘and Jared Padalecki. We’re here to report a crime.’
The End.