THE POLICE: EPISODE SEVEN "DÉJÀ VU"
Title: The Police (Episode Seven : Déjà Vu)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Adult.
Wordcount: 3,373
Summary: AU. Based around a police armed response unit comprised of seven very different people. There's a new enemy on the streets... Can they catch him before he takes them all down?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
Quick note from evil: I am so sorry for this being delayed. I really did not have a time that was conducive to writing much over the last week or two, and when I DID, I couldn't focus on this story. That's part of the reason we posted the Smoke & Lightning Book 3 teaser so early, to ease my guilt complex. ;) Adorable also helped with this chapter, so many thanks to her too. We estimate to have this whole fic finished before Christmas, and there will be an advent calendar on my journal and writing journal come December, and I also have an individual project coming. And then it's all systems go to get Smoke & Lightning 3 : The City Of Angels ready for March. :D And there may be little teasers here and there before it. So, sorry again, and I hope you enjoy this!
EPISODE SEVEN : DÉJÀ VU
Somehow.
That's the only word that kept repeating in his mind. Somehow, he and Jensen had had another fight. Somehow, he'd lost him again. Somehow.
Sighing, Jared tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. He'd only half-heard Morgan at the morning roll call. He was there, physically, but his mind was with Jensen, wondering where the man was, if he was alright, who he was with. Because Jared was no fool. He knew the kind of man Jensen was, that if he wanted something then he'd go out and get it, consequences be damned. The finality of Jared's words wouldn't have helped his mindset either. He chewed on his lip. Too late now to realise he was an idiot, he supposed. And too late to change his feelings about Jensen. Forgiveness wasn't doled out easily for Jared, but he didn't love everyone like he loved Jensen.
If he could just admit to Jensen that he did love him that much, they might be able to work things out. Somehow.
The day was a slow one. They'd already worked out in the gym, done a good amount of training. Jared had shot the hell out of a paper target in the range. Chris had been next to him, saw the mass of shredded paper in the center of the silhouette's chest, but didn't say anything to Jared right then. Instead, he waited until Morgan put them on patrol, and then confronted Jared about the whole thing.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened, or are you just going to brood about it all day?"
Surprised at the question, Jared turned and looked at Chris for a moment before looking back out the windshield as he drove. "I'm not brooding."
Chris gazed over at Jared from the passenger's side. "Bullshit," he said. "What's going on?"
Frowning, Jared sighed. "Nothing, I just..." He paused, trying to figure out the best way to explain things, even though he didn't want to talk. He'd learned enough about Chris already to know that the man wouldn't leave him be until they talked. "Jen came to see me last night."
"And?" He thought better of his question, and held up a hand. "I don't want details. Just give me the gist."
"The gist is, I kicked him out."
"Why?"
"Because all he wanted to do was have sex. I wanted to talk about how he wouldn't go and see psych. So I told him that if he walked out the door without discussing things with me, then he couldn't ever come back."
Chris shrugged. "Why would he want to work on his problems with you?"
"Because I'm his... We're..." He stopped, his mind racing as he thought of how to explain their constantly failing relationship. "I'm supposed to be the one he confides in."
"Why? Because you have a semi-serious relationship?"
He nodded emphatically. "Yes."
"Yeah, relationships don't work like that a lot of times," Chris said. He could see that his words hadn't comforted Jared in the least. "Okay, look," he tried again. "Jen seems like a typical guy, regardless of the...whole...y'know. Anyway, he's tough, he's an asshole, and he doesn't like to be told what to do, right?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"So, why are you telling him what to do?"
"Because he needs to go to Psych, and he won't."
"Because he's been told to."
It made sense. Jared sighed, maneuvering the car around a corner. "Yeah," he said. "I guess."
"And, news flash," Chris continued. "Tough guys don't like to admit their wrong, and they sure as hell don't like to talk about their feelings."
"But he has to," Jared reminded him. "If he wants back on the team, he has to."
"And he probably will eventually," he nodded. "But he's not going to talk to you."
It still made perfect sense, but Jared didn't want to give in. "But..."
"Look," Chris explained. "You depend on him, right? On the team? He's the one that has our backs, being the sniper. I mean, we all play our own important roles, and we all've saved each other's butts more than once, but he's kind of like God in some ways, when you think about it. Up high and saving our asses, right?"
He sighed yet again. "Yeah."
"So it doesn't matter how many ultimatums you give him, he's going to want to remain unbreakable in your eyes."
Jared was quiet for a while, absorbing all of what Chris said. "I'm a negotiator, you know," he finally said, pulling the car to a stop at a red light. "I should know how to talk to people."
"Talking to a loved one isn't the same as talking to an armed suspect."
"Sure it is," Jared nodded.
"Really? Would you have given the suspect an ultimatum like that?"
Jared was silent, looking straight ahead.
"Because, if you had, I'm pretty sure he would have told you to fuck off, and killed his hostage. Not necessarily in that order."
Chris was right again. Jared would have talked to the suspect. He would have admitted to understanding the problem, but not put himself on the suspect's side. He would have said things like, "I need you to do something for me," or "Why don't you let the hostage go so that we can figure this thing out together?"
Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time, Jared rubbed at his tired eyes and looked up at the light, just in time to see it turn green. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore anyway," he announced. "He left and I don't think he's coming back."
Chris sat back, nodding his head. "He'll be back," he assured him. "Trust me."
* * *
The sunlight poured through the open windows, the curtains billowing out as a gentle breeze wafted along the city streets, through the barred and screened windows. The sound of life below wasn't what had awakened him. He was used to the sounds of traffic, of people, of horns and screeching tires and shouts of impatience. However, he wasn't used to the absence of warm, solid weight that had been beside him all night.
Jensen arose, turning over onto his back to look around the room. Sammy was nowhere in sight, but he could smell something cooking in the kitchen. If his nose was true to him, he smelled eggs and bacon and coffee. Sitting up in bed, he swung his legs over the side and searched for the boxers he'd shed in a hurry the previous night. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of the bin. Four condoms lay inside. They had gone again during the middle of the night, around three A.M., fucking each other into the mattress until they were left with shaky limbs and sore patches on their skin.
Without covering himself further, Jensen padded out into the living room, taking a quick look around to make sure he was alone with Sammy, and then moved into the kitchen. He saw Sam in front of the stove, clad in pretty much the same outfit as Jensen, focused on a pan on the stove. A plate of bacon sat on the bar, and two empty coffee cups awaited them.
Sammy heard Jensen's arrival and looked up from the pan. "Mornin', sleepin' beauty," he grinned.
Jensen really liked hearing that accent. Smiling, he pulled out one of the barstools and sat down upon it. "Morning," he said. He scratched at his head and peered over the bar, to the pan on the stovetop. "You're making breakfast."
Sammy grinned at him, then looked back down at the eggs that were frying in the pan. "Yeah," he agreed. "I like to cook. You?"
He shook his head. "I'm real good at ordering shit though."
Sam laughed, turning his back to Jensen for a moment. As he reached for the coffee pot, Jensen eyed the tattoo on Sammy's back. It was of an angel, arms raised towards the heavens. Scrawled into her robes were the letters "MSW." Jensen immediately recognized it as a memorial tattoo. He had seen glimpses of it the previous night during the second bout of sex, but his attention had been focused elsewhere.
As Sammy turned back to him, coffee pot in hand, Jensen asked, "Who's the tattoo for?"
Sam's smile quickly vanished. He poured the coffee and put the pot back. It wasn't until he was back in front of the sputtering eggs, did he speak. "For my baby brother," he answered.
"The one you mentioned last night?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He died a couple years ago."
Jensen felt bad for having asked. In silence, he watched Sammy work, peppering and salting the egg that he was cooking to, what looked like, perfection. "I'm sorry," he said at last.
Sam raised his head, looked at Jensen and smiled. "It's alright," he returned. He looked back down at the eggs, flipping them over with cooking expertise.
"How old was he?"
"Oh, same age, mate," Sammy replied. "We were twins."
Jensen chuckled gently. "Well, he wasn't exactly your baby brother then."
"Sure he was," Sammy said, putting one egg on a plate for Jensen, and one on a plate for himself. "I was twenty-two minutes older." He returned the pan to the stove, making sure to turn off the burner.
"What was his name?"
Sammy's eyes scanned the bartop, as if he was searching for something that he'd forgotten to put out. He leaned over to grab two pieces of toast, giving one to Jensen and keeping the other for himself. "Marcus," he answered.
Jensen noticed how Sammy wasn't looking at him, avoiding his eyes in every possible way. "Yeah, I'm sorry, Sammy," he apologized. "I shouldn't be pushing you about this."
He replied right away, his voice calm and low. "Nah," he said, shrugging his shoulders and finally meeting Jensen's eyes. "It's alright. I don't mind."
They started eating. Buttering toast, crunching into the bacon. Sopping up egg yolk with the toast. Sipping strong, hot coffee.
"Was he like you?" Jensen chanced.
"Nah," he repeated with a smile. "He was the pretty one."
Chuckling, Jensen took another sip of his coffee.
Sammy thought of the picture a friend had taken of them both, a couple years before his brother had been killed. In it, Marcus had four days of beard stubble on his chin, and had been recovering from the flu. Sam, however, had been clean shaven for once, and had recently gotten his hair cut. Regardless, Marcus still had the dashing smile, the perfect skin, and the look that drove girls wild. It was amazing to him exactly how different identical twins could be. "Marcus was the polar opposite of me, mate," he told him. "He was clean shaven. Well-groomed. Polite. He got all the girls, got all the good grades. I was all vinegar and piss."
Jensen laughed again, enjoying the breakfast with Sammy. "What happened to him?"
Chewing at the food in his mouth, Sam kept his eyes down at his plate, shrugging his shoulders. "Wrong place, wrong time," he said. "Cops fucked things up. Took him down instead of the bastard they should have."
Smiling fading, Jensen frowned. "I'm sorry, man," he apologized.
"Why?" Sam asked him, meeting his eyes directly. "Did you do it?"
It took a moment for Jensen to work his way out of the intense gaze. "No," he answered after a few seconds. "No, it wasn't me."
* * *
Jared had known that someone new was starting that day. Morgan had told them all that, while Jensen was working through his stress, they would have someone transfer in from a team in Toronto. But he was still surprised when he walked into the locker room, the rest of the building near-silent, and found the new guy sat on the low bench polishing his boots. He looked tall, too, about as tall as Jared, and his hair was dark and thick. He looked like Jared might look in ten years time.
"Hi?"
The guy looked up, smiled. "Hi. Cooper Hawkes, the temp transfer."
Jared shook his hand. "Good to meet you. I didn't realize you were coming so soon."
"I heard your boss doesn't know when one of your guys is coming back and they didn't want to be down a man any longer."
"Right."
"You Padalecki?" He didn't wait for an answer before saying, "Yeah, you are. I'm on patrol with you and Kane today. You got anything I should know about you before we head out?"
"No," Jared answered. "I don't think so."
As soon as Chris was there and ready, the three of them took a car and headed out. It turned out that Coop, as he preferred to be called, knew Vancouver pretty well already. He'd done some training there and had lived there for almost three years right after college. It had changed somewhat, he told them, but he remembered most of it. He was quite talkative and, for Jared, it was a good distraction from his thoughts about Jensen. He had no doubt that the other man had gone out and got the sex he needed somehow. He was angry about it, sure, but what Chris had said made sense and he was starting to blame himself as much as Jensen. He knew he'd been right, but maybe if he'd given in, maybe if he'd gotten Jensen into his bed, he might have been able to talk to him afterwards and have him listen.
Jensen had his own way of dealing with things; he'd been with the man long enough to know that. It was a stupid way, in Jared's opinion, but if it worked for him then who was he to judge? He'd given up looking for him, trying to figure out where in hell the man was hiding. He'd asked psych for the address, even asked Morgan, but Jensen's personal file was off limits to anyone who wasn't family and he couldn't exactly go telling Jensen's mom and dad that he didn't know where their son was and could they please tell him? He wasn't sure they'd even know, either.
Coop talked about the past few calls he'd been on out in Toronto, about the other members of the team he'd transferred from, and about where he hoped to go with his career. Chris got involved more in the discussion than Jared, partly because Jared was driving and partly because Chris was so new to it that he was genuinely interested in the views of someone who'd been doing the job a lot longer. They made a stop for coffee and by the time anything happened, it was already late afternoon.
Darla's voice came over the radio, asked them to head to an address where they would join the rest of the team. She told them that a neighbor had called reporting gunshots from the address and that she had seen the son of the family come home, followed shortly after by another kid, slightly younger.
"Quiet approach, guys," she told them. "Team three are on channel two."
They switched their radios over, shoved their ear-pieces in, and Jared pulled a tight u-turn to head in the direction of the house.
Morgan was there to brief them when they arrived. The area around the house had been taped off and there were several patrol cars there already, as well as team three's Mobile Command Unit. He told them that there were only two occupants - the son of the house's owner and a younger boy from the same school. It was the younger boy, to their surprise, who was armed and holding the older kid hostage. The shots fired had apparently been warning shots as they'd managed to establish that nobody was hurt. Yet.
"The older one's name is Derek Coleman, 17, he goes to the local high school and he's the quarterback on the school's football team. The other one is 15, his name's Richard Head, got the gun from dad's closet and came over here with it right after school finished. Other students say that Derek rips on the Head kid every single day and that today he just seemed to snap."
Jared nodded. He'd heard similar stories, plenty of times before, although they didn't always end in such dangerous waters. He got himself ready, got into position while the rest of the team checked out the layout with neighbors who had been inside and got more details on the two kids inside. The front door opened as he moved towards it and he stopped.
Jared stood in the driveway, his hands raised in the air, and tried to keep the kid talking. He was just visible behind the older boy, in the doorway of the house. He looked round frantically every few seconds, expecting them to come in behind him any moment. The truth was they were going to be working on it and Jared didn't know how it would go if the kid saw them coming. He'd told Chris and Kid to take it easy, and quietly, and to wait for his signal to make their move. They knew how it went, but he told them anyway. Coop was a little in front of him, body shield in place and his gun ready should they need it.
"Hey, Richard. My name's Jared, I'm here to help if I can, okay? You want to talk about why we're here?"
"Not really! I want you all to go!" He swept a hand across, indicating all the patrol cars outside his house.
"Well, we can't really do that until we know that you're safe and the boy you're with is safe. You mind if we find that out first?"
"We're just fine!" Richard called back. He was agitated and jumpy and Jared didn't like it. He spoke to Morgan and they started pulling the patrol cars further back the road, leaving just their team close by. It might make the kid feel a little more at ease, although it didn't look like it right now.
"So what happened today, Richard? What happened that made today different?"
"Why in hell should I tell you anything?"
"Because I'll listen. Look at this, you have everyone here hanging on your every word and that's all you wanted, isn't it? For someone to listen?"
The kid wiped the back of his hand over his face, the gun still clutched in sweaty fingers. "I don't need help, okay? I just need this asshole to understand that I'm not gonna take it any more! That he needs to leave me the hell alone!"
"You know what? I'm looking at his face and I think he understands that." Jared shifted his weight carefully and slowly. In his earpiece he could hear Chris reporting to Morgan that they'd gotten in through the back, and Morgan answered that the kid didn't appear to have heard them. He kept his eyes trained on Richard, knowing if his gaze shifted even slightly then the kid might look behind him, might see them coming. But in the end it wasn't them who were the danger.
It didn't seem to happen in slow motion like it did in the movies, or cheap thrillers he'd read when he couldn't sleep after a hard shift. It happened fast, so fast that Jared only just registered it. Richard had raised his gun hand again to wipe the sweat from his face and Derek took the chance to drive his elbow backward. At the same time, Chris appeared in the hallway, shouting at him to drop the weapon, and Coop took a step away from Jared, to help them out.
But the gun was up, and when Richard got the wind knocked out of him, his finger closed reflexively around the trigger.
Jared felt the bullet hit. He heard the gun clatter to the ground, heard the thud of Richard hitting the floor, Chris on his back. Heard the yelling. He crumpled to the ground, his own gun skidding across the driveway, the safety firmly on.
He lost consciousness when his head bounced off the paving, his last thought before doing so, I'm gonna die.
Next episode airs on Sunday November 22nd. I know it's 11 days, but we realise people have lives and don't tend to be around the internet much on a Saturday. ;)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: Adult.
Wordcount: 3,373
Summary: AU. Based around a police armed response unit comprised of seven very different people. There's a new enemy on the streets... Can they catch him before he takes them all down?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
Quick note from evil: I am so sorry for this being delayed. I really did not have a time that was conducive to writing much over the last week or two, and when I DID, I couldn't focus on this story. That's part of the reason we posted the Smoke & Lightning Book 3 teaser so early, to ease my guilt complex. ;) Adorable also helped with this chapter, so many thanks to her too. We estimate to have this whole fic finished before Christmas, and there will be an advent calendar on my journal and writing journal come December, and I also have an individual project coming. And then it's all systems go to get Smoke & Lightning 3 : The City Of Angels ready for March. :D And there may be little teasers here and there before it. So, sorry again, and I hope you enjoy this!
EPISODE SEVEN : DÉJÀ VU
Somehow.
That's the only word that kept repeating in his mind. Somehow, he and Jensen had had another fight. Somehow, he'd lost him again. Somehow.
Sighing, Jared tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. He'd only half-heard Morgan at the morning roll call. He was there, physically, but his mind was with Jensen, wondering where the man was, if he was alright, who he was with. Because Jared was no fool. He knew the kind of man Jensen was, that if he wanted something then he'd go out and get it, consequences be damned. The finality of Jared's words wouldn't have helped his mindset either. He chewed on his lip. Too late now to realise he was an idiot, he supposed. And too late to change his feelings about Jensen. Forgiveness wasn't doled out easily for Jared, but he didn't love everyone like he loved Jensen.
If he could just admit to Jensen that he did love him that much, they might be able to work things out. Somehow.
The day was a slow one. They'd already worked out in the gym, done a good amount of training. Jared had shot the hell out of a paper target in the range. Chris had been next to him, saw the mass of shredded paper in the center of the silhouette's chest, but didn't say anything to Jared right then. Instead, he waited until Morgan put them on patrol, and then confronted Jared about the whole thing.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened, or are you just going to brood about it all day?"
Surprised at the question, Jared turned and looked at Chris for a moment before looking back out the windshield as he drove. "I'm not brooding."
Chris gazed over at Jared from the passenger's side. "Bullshit," he said. "What's going on?"
Frowning, Jared sighed. "Nothing, I just..." He paused, trying to figure out the best way to explain things, even though he didn't want to talk. He'd learned enough about Chris already to know that the man wouldn't leave him be until they talked. "Jen came to see me last night."
"And?" He thought better of his question, and held up a hand. "I don't want details. Just give me the gist."
"The gist is, I kicked him out."
"Why?"
"Because all he wanted to do was have sex. I wanted to talk about how he wouldn't go and see psych. So I told him that if he walked out the door without discussing things with me, then he couldn't ever come back."
Chris shrugged. "Why would he want to work on his problems with you?"
"Because I'm his... We're..." He stopped, his mind racing as he thought of how to explain their constantly failing relationship. "I'm supposed to be the one he confides in."
"Why? Because you have a semi-serious relationship?"
He nodded emphatically. "Yes."
"Yeah, relationships don't work like that a lot of times," Chris said. He could see that his words hadn't comforted Jared in the least. "Okay, look," he tried again. "Jen seems like a typical guy, regardless of the...whole...y'know. Anyway, he's tough, he's an asshole, and he doesn't like to be told what to do, right?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"So, why are you telling him what to do?"
"Because he needs to go to Psych, and he won't."
"Because he's been told to."
It made sense. Jared sighed, maneuvering the car around a corner. "Yeah," he said. "I guess."
"And, news flash," Chris continued. "Tough guys don't like to admit their wrong, and they sure as hell don't like to talk about their feelings."
"But he has to," Jared reminded him. "If he wants back on the team, he has to."
"And he probably will eventually," he nodded. "But he's not going to talk to you."
It still made perfect sense, but Jared didn't want to give in. "But..."
"Look," Chris explained. "You depend on him, right? On the team? He's the one that has our backs, being the sniper. I mean, we all play our own important roles, and we all've saved each other's butts more than once, but he's kind of like God in some ways, when you think about it. Up high and saving our asses, right?"
He sighed yet again. "Yeah."
"So it doesn't matter how many ultimatums you give him, he's going to want to remain unbreakable in your eyes."
Jared was quiet for a while, absorbing all of what Chris said. "I'm a negotiator, you know," he finally said, pulling the car to a stop at a red light. "I should know how to talk to people."
"Talking to a loved one isn't the same as talking to an armed suspect."
"Sure it is," Jared nodded.
"Really? Would you have given the suspect an ultimatum like that?"
Jared was silent, looking straight ahead.
"Because, if you had, I'm pretty sure he would have told you to fuck off, and killed his hostage. Not necessarily in that order."
Chris was right again. Jared would have talked to the suspect. He would have admitted to understanding the problem, but not put himself on the suspect's side. He would have said things like, "I need you to do something for me," or "Why don't you let the hostage go so that we can figure this thing out together?"
Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time, Jared rubbed at his tired eyes and looked up at the light, just in time to see it turn green. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore anyway," he announced. "He left and I don't think he's coming back."
Chris sat back, nodding his head. "He'll be back," he assured him. "Trust me."
* * *
The sunlight poured through the open windows, the curtains billowing out as a gentle breeze wafted along the city streets, through the barred and screened windows. The sound of life below wasn't what had awakened him. He was used to the sounds of traffic, of people, of horns and screeching tires and shouts of impatience. However, he wasn't used to the absence of warm, solid weight that had been beside him all night.
Jensen arose, turning over onto his back to look around the room. Sammy was nowhere in sight, but he could smell something cooking in the kitchen. If his nose was true to him, he smelled eggs and bacon and coffee. Sitting up in bed, he swung his legs over the side and searched for the boxers he'd shed in a hurry the previous night. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of the bin. Four condoms lay inside. They had gone again during the middle of the night, around three A.M., fucking each other into the mattress until they were left with shaky limbs and sore patches on their skin.
Without covering himself further, Jensen padded out into the living room, taking a quick look around to make sure he was alone with Sammy, and then moved into the kitchen. He saw Sam in front of the stove, clad in pretty much the same outfit as Jensen, focused on a pan on the stove. A plate of bacon sat on the bar, and two empty coffee cups awaited them.
Sammy heard Jensen's arrival and looked up from the pan. "Mornin', sleepin' beauty," he grinned.
Jensen really liked hearing that accent. Smiling, he pulled out one of the barstools and sat down upon it. "Morning," he said. He scratched at his head and peered over the bar, to the pan on the stovetop. "You're making breakfast."
Sammy grinned at him, then looked back down at the eggs that were frying in the pan. "Yeah," he agreed. "I like to cook. You?"
He shook his head. "I'm real good at ordering shit though."
Sam laughed, turning his back to Jensen for a moment. As he reached for the coffee pot, Jensen eyed the tattoo on Sammy's back. It was of an angel, arms raised towards the heavens. Scrawled into her robes were the letters "MSW." Jensen immediately recognized it as a memorial tattoo. He had seen glimpses of it the previous night during the second bout of sex, but his attention had been focused elsewhere.
As Sammy turned back to him, coffee pot in hand, Jensen asked, "Who's the tattoo for?"
Sam's smile quickly vanished. He poured the coffee and put the pot back. It wasn't until he was back in front of the sputtering eggs, did he speak. "For my baby brother," he answered.
"The one you mentioned last night?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He died a couple years ago."
Jensen felt bad for having asked. In silence, he watched Sammy work, peppering and salting the egg that he was cooking to, what looked like, perfection. "I'm sorry," he said at last.
Sam raised his head, looked at Jensen and smiled. "It's alright," he returned. He looked back down at the eggs, flipping them over with cooking expertise.
"How old was he?"
"Oh, same age, mate," Sammy replied. "We were twins."
Jensen chuckled gently. "Well, he wasn't exactly your baby brother then."
"Sure he was," Sammy said, putting one egg on a plate for Jensen, and one on a plate for himself. "I was twenty-two minutes older." He returned the pan to the stove, making sure to turn off the burner.
"What was his name?"
Sammy's eyes scanned the bartop, as if he was searching for something that he'd forgotten to put out. He leaned over to grab two pieces of toast, giving one to Jensen and keeping the other for himself. "Marcus," he answered.
Jensen noticed how Sammy wasn't looking at him, avoiding his eyes in every possible way. "Yeah, I'm sorry, Sammy," he apologized. "I shouldn't be pushing you about this."
He replied right away, his voice calm and low. "Nah," he said, shrugging his shoulders and finally meeting Jensen's eyes. "It's alright. I don't mind."
They started eating. Buttering toast, crunching into the bacon. Sopping up egg yolk with the toast. Sipping strong, hot coffee.
"Was he like you?" Jensen chanced.
"Nah," he repeated with a smile. "He was the pretty one."
Chuckling, Jensen took another sip of his coffee.
Sammy thought of the picture a friend had taken of them both, a couple years before his brother had been killed. In it, Marcus had four days of beard stubble on his chin, and had been recovering from the flu. Sam, however, had been clean shaven for once, and had recently gotten his hair cut. Regardless, Marcus still had the dashing smile, the perfect skin, and the look that drove girls wild. It was amazing to him exactly how different identical twins could be. "Marcus was the polar opposite of me, mate," he told him. "He was clean shaven. Well-groomed. Polite. He got all the girls, got all the good grades. I was all vinegar and piss."
Jensen laughed again, enjoying the breakfast with Sammy. "What happened to him?"
Chewing at the food in his mouth, Sam kept his eyes down at his plate, shrugging his shoulders. "Wrong place, wrong time," he said. "Cops fucked things up. Took him down instead of the bastard they should have."
Smiling fading, Jensen frowned. "I'm sorry, man," he apologized.
"Why?" Sam asked him, meeting his eyes directly. "Did you do it?"
It took a moment for Jensen to work his way out of the intense gaze. "No," he answered after a few seconds. "No, it wasn't me."
* * *
Jared had known that someone new was starting that day. Morgan had told them all that, while Jensen was working through his stress, they would have someone transfer in from a team in Toronto. But he was still surprised when he walked into the locker room, the rest of the building near-silent, and found the new guy sat on the low bench polishing his boots. He looked tall, too, about as tall as Jared, and his hair was dark and thick. He looked like Jared might look in ten years time.
"Hi?"
The guy looked up, smiled. "Hi. Cooper Hawkes, the temp transfer."
Jared shook his hand. "Good to meet you. I didn't realize you were coming so soon."
"I heard your boss doesn't know when one of your guys is coming back and they didn't want to be down a man any longer."
"Right."
"You Padalecki?" He didn't wait for an answer before saying, "Yeah, you are. I'm on patrol with you and Kane today. You got anything I should know about you before we head out?"
"No," Jared answered. "I don't think so."
As soon as Chris was there and ready, the three of them took a car and headed out. It turned out that Coop, as he preferred to be called, knew Vancouver pretty well already. He'd done some training there and had lived there for almost three years right after college. It had changed somewhat, he told them, but he remembered most of it. He was quite talkative and, for Jared, it was a good distraction from his thoughts about Jensen. He had no doubt that the other man had gone out and got the sex he needed somehow. He was angry about it, sure, but what Chris had said made sense and he was starting to blame himself as much as Jensen. He knew he'd been right, but maybe if he'd given in, maybe if he'd gotten Jensen into his bed, he might have been able to talk to him afterwards and have him listen.
Jensen had his own way of dealing with things; he'd been with the man long enough to know that. It was a stupid way, in Jared's opinion, but if it worked for him then who was he to judge? He'd given up looking for him, trying to figure out where in hell the man was hiding. He'd asked psych for the address, even asked Morgan, but Jensen's personal file was off limits to anyone who wasn't family and he couldn't exactly go telling Jensen's mom and dad that he didn't know where their son was and could they please tell him? He wasn't sure they'd even know, either.
Coop talked about the past few calls he'd been on out in Toronto, about the other members of the team he'd transferred from, and about where he hoped to go with his career. Chris got involved more in the discussion than Jared, partly because Jared was driving and partly because Chris was so new to it that he was genuinely interested in the views of someone who'd been doing the job a lot longer. They made a stop for coffee and by the time anything happened, it was already late afternoon.
Darla's voice came over the radio, asked them to head to an address where they would join the rest of the team. She told them that a neighbor had called reporting gunshots from the address and that she had seen the son of the family come home, followed shortly after by another kid, slightly younger.
"Quiet approach, guys," she told them. "Team three are on channel two."
They switched their radios over, shoved their ear-pieces in, and Jared pulled a tight u-turn to head in the direction of the house.
Morgan was there to brief them when they arrived. The area around the house had been taped off and there were several patrol cars there already, as well as team three's Mobile Command Unit. He told them that there were only two occupants - the son of the house's owner and a younger boy from the same school. It was the younger boy, to their surprise, who was armed and holding the older kid hostage. The shots fired had apparently been warning shots as they'd managed to establish that nobody was hurt. Yet.
"The older one's name is Derek Coleman, 17, he goes to the local high school and he's the quarterback on the school's football team. The other one is 15, his name's Richard Head, got the gun from dad's closet and came over here with it right after school finished. Other students say that Derek rips on the Head kid every single day and that today he just seemed to snap."
Jared nodded. He'd heard similar stories, plenty of times before, although they didn't always end in such dangerous waters. He got himself ready, got into position while the rest of the team checked out the layout with neighbors who had been inside and got more details on the two kids inside. The front door opened as he moved towards it and he stopped.
Jared stood in the driveway, his hands raised in the air, and tried to keep the kid talking. He was just visible behind the older boy, in the doorway of the house. He looked round frantically every few seconds, expecting them to come in behind him any moment. The truth was they were going to be working on it and Jared didn't know how it would go if the kid saw them coming. He'd told Chris and Kid to take it easy, and quietly, and to wait for his signal to make their move. They knew how it went, but he told them anyway. Coop was a little in front of him, body shield in place and his gun ready should they need it.
"Hey, Richard. My name's Jared, I'm here to help if I can, okay? You want to talk about why we're here?"
"Not really! I want you all to go!" He swept a hand across, indicating all the patrol cars outside his house.
"Well, we can't really do that until we know that you're safe and the boy you're with is safe. You mind if we find that out first?"
"We're just fine!" Richard called back. He was agitated and jumpy and Jared didn't like it. He spoke to Morgan and they started pulling the patrol cars further back the road, leaving just their team close by. It might make the kid feel a little more at ease, although it didn't look like it right now.
"So what happened today, Richard? What happened that made today different?"
"Why in hell should I tell you anything?"
"Because I'll listen. Look at this, you have everyone here hanging on your every word and that's all you wanted, isn't it? For someone to listen?"
The kid wiped the back of his hand over his face, the gun still clutched in sweaty fingers. "I don't need help, okay? I just need this asshole to understand that I'm not gonna take it any more! That he needs to leave me the hell alone!"
"You know what? I'm looking at his face and I think he understands that." Jared shifted his weight carefully and slowly. In his earpiece he could hear Chris reporting to Morgan that they'd gotten in through the back, and Morgan answered that the kid didn't appear to have heard them. He kept his eyes trained on Richard, knowing if his gaze shifted even slightly then the kid might look behind him, might see them coming. But in the end it wasn't them who were the danger.
It didn't seem to happen in slow motion like it did in the movies, or cheap thrillers he'd read when he couldn't sleep after a hard shift. It happened fast, so fast that Jared only just registered it. Richard had raised his gun hand again to wipe the sweat from his face and Derek took the chance to drive his elbow backward. At the same time, Chris appeared in the hallway, shouting at him to drop the weapon, and Coop took a step away from Jared, to help them out.
But the gun was up, and when Richard got the wind knocked out of him, his finger closed reflexively around the trigger.
Jared felt the bullet hit. He heard the gun clatter to the ground, heard the thud of Richard hitting the floor, Chris on his back. Heard the yelling. He crumpled to the ground, his own gun skidding across the driveway, the safety firmly on.
He lost consciousness when his head bounced off the paving, his last thought before doing so, I'm gonna die.
Next episode airs on Sunday November 22nd. I know it's 11 days, but we realise people have lives and don't tend to be around the internet much on a Saturday. ;)