Real Person Fic - CW: Off the Menu [Part 1/3]
PART ONE
It's like adopting a puppy at first. A sweet, harmless but harmed little thing with a face no one could turn away. There's no telling in those moments what you'll get when the damn thing grows up. You just know you've gotta do what you can.
He looks back on how this started some nights as he wipes down tables, watches the kid's thin ankle brush against someone else's, and tries to hold his bruised heart in its place. Jared needed him back when they first met. Now he doesn't let himself need anybody.
But there are times, like right now, when he lifts his head, bright eyes finding Jensen's across the restaurant, and his frown turns to big white teeth and dimples, just like it did when he was ten.
Jensen never could have done it differently.
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He's 13 years old the first time he sees Jared. Jensen finds a skinny boy with too-long brown hair wandering along the side of the road, cradling an arm that looks like it might be broken, his expression scared and lost and his clothes dirty.
Jensen is on his way home from running errands in town: dropping off bills, setting up deliveries for the coming week, stuffing coupons under windshield wipers and fliers into mailboxes. He's riding on a high from it, always takes pride in how much his dad trusts him to do important business for the diner, so he almost coasts right by the figure walking along the street in the same direction he's heading.
It's ten seconds after he leaves the stranger in his dust that he does a double-take and realizes how young the person walking along is. It strikes him as odd that a child would be here alone, more than a mile out of town on a road heading nowhere, with the Texas sun pounding down on him.
He skids his bike to a stop, because it's enough to make him curious, and waits until the kid is standing only a few feet in front of him to say anything. Jensen looks the boy over as he gets closer and sees that his jeans are torn, his arm skinned and bloody, and his cheeks have tracks of wet tears slicing through the dirt caked onto them.
"Are you okay, kid?" he asks.
The boy looks up at him as if he hadn't even noticed a bike sliding into his path and he's only just realized Jensen is standing right in front of him. "I'm fine," he says, his voice a little sniffly. He waits a beat and then adds, "My arm hurts."
"What happened to it?" Jensen reaches out to try and take hold, but the boy steps back, nearly stumbling in his sudden need to get away. He frowns and lifts his hands up so the boy can see them both. "Hey, it's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you. Did someone do this to you?"
The kid sends a look over his shoulder and then meets Jensen's eyes. "N-no. No one."
Jensen isn't sure he's convinced, so he makes a reassuring face. "Was it a bully? They won't hear if you tell me."
All he gets is a stubborn shake of the head, so he tries to shove his doubts aside. "What happened?"
The boy's eyes dart around for a few seconds before they land on Jensen's bicycle, and he smiles. "Bike!" he says. "I just fell off my bike, that's all."
He looks for a bike and the kid must see his confusion, because he steps closer to Jensen. "It got ruined pretty bad. I left it. It was a little ways back. I was just going to walk home."
"Aren't you a little young to be riding out here alone?" Jensen asks.
The kid shrugs. "You're riding yours alone."
"I'm older than-" Jensen begins, but he sighs and decides that's not going to be helpful. So he changes gears. "Do you know how to get home? Because I think you're walking in the wrong direction."
That makes the boy frown and look down at his feet. "I'm a little lost," he admits. "Was just gonna wait until I found a place with a phone."
He smiles softly, starts to reach into his pocket for his cell, but he decides against it. Doesn't like the idea of stranding the kid out here after one phone call.
"I have an idea," he says. "The nearest place is a diner, it's a couple of miles up the road. I'm heading there, 'cause my dad owns it. Why don't you ride with me and we can get you cleaned up and see if your arm is okay and you can call your parents from there?"
The boy hesitates for a few seconds. "I won't get you in trouble?"
"Of course not. How much trouble could a little squirt like you be?" Jensen grins, reaching out to ruffle the kid's hair. "My name's Jensen. What's yours?"
"Jared," the boy says. "I'm Jared."
"Okay, Jared." Jensen picks up his bike and climbs on. "You ever stood on a bike before? Just put your feet on those bars and make sure you hold on tight with your good arm. Be careful with the other, I'll try to go slow."
Jared does as he's told, and in another half hour, Jensen is chaining his bike up to the railing by the diner entrance. When he turns back to Jared, the kid is staring in awe at the big black car parked just by the door.
He smiles, always eager to show off. "Pretty cool, huh?"
Jensen watches as Jared tears his eyes away, looking up with excitement. "That's the coolest car I've ever seen!" he says. "Is it yours?"
"Well, not mine," Jensen admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's ours. Used to be my granddad's car, back when he opened the diner. He bought her brand new in 1967 to celebrate being open for ten years."
"Wow, that's really old," Jared says. "Do you get to drive it?"
He laughs. "I guess it is pretty old for a car. Nobody drives her. She stopped running a long time ago, and the parts are too expensive to replace."
"So this awesome car just sits here?" Jared asks indignantly.
"She doesn't just sit here," Jensen insists. He points up at the sign over his father's diner, thrilled to have such a captive audience, and he can see that Jared is eating up every word. "See, Grandpa used to call her his baby. When she broke down, just a few years after he passed away, my dad had her towed back out here so she could greet all our guests. People started coming out to see her so often, he changed the name from Al's Diner to-"
"Baby's Diner," Jared reads from the sign, and then he grins. "So she's famous now?"
"Aw, I wish. We'd be rich if she was." He puts his hand on the smooth black hood and catches himself smiling. "She's always been my favorite part of this place, though. I get to keep her clean and when I'm tired of dealing with people, sometimes I come out and sit inside and just breathe in the leather."
"Wow," Jared says, pressing his face up to the glass and peeking into the backseat. "You can go inside?"
"Sure." He laughs. "I like to pretend one day I'll save up enough money to get her running again."
"That would be awesome," Jared responds, giving Jensen such a wide smile that it's like he's forgotten all about his bum arm and busted bike. "Can I go inside too?"
Jensen snorts. "Let's get you cleaned up first, huh? Don't want you tracking all that dust and blood in. I'm the one who's gotta keep her in good condition."
"Oh," Jared says looking down at himself. "Right."
He lets Jensen put a hand on his shoulder and steer him inside. Jensen nods a greeting at Jeff behind the counter as he leans over, pulling the phone out.
"Here, why don't you call your parents and let them know where you are. Address is on the menu right here. They must be real worried about you. I'll go get the first aid kit and we'll see how much we can bandage you up before they come to get you."
When he returns from the kitchen with the first aid kit, Jared is still standing right where Jensen left him, but he says he already called his parents and they're on their way, so Jensen leads him to the empty table by the window and spreads out what he thinks he'll need.
He does as good a job wrapping Jared and cleaning the kid off as he can without much to go on. He's taken care of plenty of injuries in the past but most of them were burns from the grills or minor cuts.
"Your parents are gonna wanna stop at the hospital just in case," Jensen tells him. "But don't worry. I don't think it's broken or anything too bad. Does it feel okay when I move it?"
Jared smiles and nods, and Jensen can't help feeling a little like a hero from the way the kid's watching him.
"I have to get back to work or my dad is gonna be pissed," Jensen tells him. "Are you okay to hang out until your parents come?"
The boy's expression falls, even as he nods energetically. "Don't get in trouble because of me," he urges Jensen. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
Jensen smiles one last time, bringing Jared a kids' menu and some crayons, and then he heads into the kitchen. By the time he comes out again, Jared is gone. There's a menu still sitting in his place as well as some worn crayons, a picture of a big black car with two boys smiling in the back.
He folds it up and tucks it into the pocket of his apron, turning to Julie, the waitress on duty. "There was a kid here, did you see who he left with?"
She looks down at the table and shakes her head, shrugging one shoulder as she gets back to work. Jensen figures Jared's parents must have come. He'll miss the kid, but he lets the doodle on the menu count as both a 'thank you' and a 'goodbye.'
_______________________________________________________________
Just over a month later, Jared is back. It's a Saturday afternoon, the first time all day that Jensen has been able to take it easy between the breakfast and lunch rush. This is his favorite part of the day, the in-between lull before dinner when it's just Dad showing him the ropes, Jeff at the grill, and a handful of regulars.
Well, and a twig of a kid sitting at the table in the corner, nothing but a water and the strawberry jams and creamers he's stacking into a house and then knocking over, only to rebuild and do it all again.
Jensen rests the tub of dirty dishes he was collecting on one of the nearby tables and slides into the booth across from Jared. "Arm all better?"
Jared jumps when he hears Jensen's voice, but he pauses his game of Godzilla versus Jam Tokyo to look up and smile. "Hi!"
Jensen thinks of asking all the questions that have been bugging him since the first time they met, like why Jared left without saying goodbye or what he was doing out on the road in the first place, but before he gets a chance, Jared is off like a bolt of lightning, telling Jensen every stray thought that passes through his head. The way kids do.
It's maybe a full hour before Jensen's dad finds him and tells him to get back to work, and Jensen leaves Jared sitting with his melted ice water and a few packets of jam to keep himself entertained.
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The kid starts showing up all the time. Always sits in the same booth. Never orders anything. Jensen doesn't see his parents come to get him, but he's always gone just before the sun sets, when Jensen is getting ready to head back to the house.
He helps Jared with his homework. He tries not to see when Jared takes the unfinished food others leave behind. Does his best not to start to understand that at nine years old, Jared sits at his diner for hours because he has nowhere else to go.
Dad forbids him from giving Jared meals. We're not running a charity, we can't afford to feed all of your friends for free. So Jensen starts making portions too big, guaranteeing there will be leftovers when the customers go, and takes his time doing rounds before he cleans up empty tables.
He starts looking forward to his breaks, even though he never minded working before. It's not that he minds working now, it's that he likes Jared. Needy little kid though he may be, he looks at Jensen like Jensen hung the moon, and Jensen feels warm all the way to his toes when Jared forgets himself and smiles.
"What do we have today?" Jensen asks, plopping down across from Jared. "Math? Science?"
"Have to write an essay for English," Jared says. "A whole page."
Jensen does his best not to laugh at the dramatic dread in Jared's voice at the thought of writing one whole page, but he can't completely stop himself from smiling. "What about?"
"What I wanna be when I grow up," Jared answers. He shifts in a funny way, pulling the notebook he'd been poking at a moment ago away so Jensen can't see it. "I don't need help today."
"Already know what you're gonna be, huh?" Jensen asks. "Let me guess, an astronaut?"
Jared shakes his head, so Jensen tries again. "Firefighter? I wanted to be a firefighter."
He watches Jared's face get all scrunched up and confused. "You're gonna work here, though."
"Yeah," Jensen responds with a shrug. "I work here. Someday I'm gonna own it, too, so that's pretty cool."
"My teacher, Mrs. Buckmaster, she says that you have to be 15 before you can start working. But you already work."
Jensen shrugs. "I don't make the food or anything serious like that. I just help clean and stuff. Just chores 'cause my dad owns the place. And I don't get paid, though I will as soon as I'm old enough, and sometimes Jeff teaches me how to use the grill. The more I can do to help out, the more money we save, so that's good."
"Would you rather be a firefighter?" Jared asks.
"Nah," Jensen says with a laugh. "I love this place. I can't wait until I'm old enough to do more. But, you know. When you're little-I mean, when I was your age-no one grows up wanting to work in a diner."
Jared's face gets all pink and splotchy and he sinks into the plush booth seat.
"What's wrong?" Jensen asks, reaching out to try and see what's in the notebook.
He pushes it toward Jensen, and Jensen looks down to see a paragraph in messy print and a picture of Jared wearing a teal uniform just like Jensen's, standing by a grill with a spatula in one hand and a giant hamburger in the other.
"I wanna work in a diner when I'm big like you," Jared says.
Jensen smiles, but he shakes his head. "Nah, come on, Jared. There's gotta be something cooler you wanna do. Like be President? Or-you like cars. Why don't you write about being a racecar driver?"
"I'm never gonna be a racecar driver," Jared says. "But maybe one day I can work here."
As much as he appreciates the sentiment, Jensen's a little sad that Jared can't imagine anything better. So he stands up, rapping his knuckles on the table. "Come on," he says.
Jared slides out of the booth and follows loyally at his heels. "Where we going?"
Jensen leads Jared outside and takes his keys out, looking through the diner window to make sure his dad is distracted before opening the door to the Impala. "Get in."
"What, really?" Jared asks, his expression brightening like someone just flipped on the lights. "I can go in?"
"Yeah," Jensen says.
Jared climbs into the driver's seat and Jensen laughs at him from the back as he watches Jared try to reach the pedals in vain. He lets Jared play for about half an hour, as long as he can get away with before someone starts looking for him, and then he locks the car up and grins down at Jared.
"How 'bout that?" Jensen asks. "Wanna be a racecar driver now?"
Jared looks back at the Impala, then up at Jensen, and does the last thing Jensen is expecting. He wraps his arms around Jensen's middle and gives him a long, tight hug. His face is pressed against Jensen's chest when he says, "I still wanna be like you."
Jensen brings Jared a nametag the next day with his name written in all caps, as neat as he could make it, bright red permanent marker, just like everyone who works at Baby's wears on their apron. Jared clips it to his t shirt, right over his heart, and doesn't take it off all day.
_______________________________________________________________
Jared is so focused on whatever math assignment he's working on that he doesn't notice Jensen standing next to his table until he plants a plate right on top of Jared's papers.
It's a big slice of chocolate cake-chocolate sprinkles coating the side and swirls of chocolate syrup spelling Jared's name out next to a dab of whipped cream. There's even a cherry on top.
"You don't sell cake on Tuesdays," Jared says as he lifts his head, sees Jensen holding his own much smaller slice as he takes a seat in the booth across from Jared. "Tuesdays are for cherry pie."
Jensen shakes his head. "I had Momma bake a cake today instead. No one eats pie on their birthday."
"It's for me?" Jared asks excitedly.
"Well, it's got your name on it, doesn't it?"
Jared frowns and pushes it away. "You know you'll get in trouble if your dad finds you giving it to me."
Ever since Dad caught Jensen slipping Jared an order of fries a few weeks ago, Jared's been terrified of him and of taking anything, even Jensen's leftovers, as if Dad had kicked both their asses instead of just giving them a stern look and a lecture.
Not that the lecture felt much better than an asskicking probably would have, so Jensen covered his tracks this time.
"I bought both of these slices with my allowance," he says, grinning as he shoves the cake back toward Jared. "C'mon, eat up. Ten is a big birthday."
Between sloppy bites of cake, fudge icing covering half his face, Jared swears this is the best birthday ever. So Jensen does the same thing the next year, too.
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Tonight, everyone on earth seems to have decided that Baby's is the place to be. Jensen's not sure what caused the influx of customers-rainy weather making drivers stop at the first place they see, maybe-but he's in high spirits, as is most everyone around him. Stressed, but in good spirits. They don't see a lot of heavy traffic days like this one.
"Table 7 just left, it needs to be bussed," Danneel says, busting into the kitchen with a crazy look in her eyes. "And table 9 needs more water!"
Jensen laughs, slapping her with his dish rag as he prepares to follow her out. "How's the first week going?"
"'Come work at my diner,' you said. 'Easiest job in the world,' you said. 'Getting paid to work with your best friend,' you said. 'What could be more fun?'" She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "I can't remember what it feels like to sit, Jensen."
He snorts. "I'll take your tables, go on break."
Danneel gives him a grateful look, but then he sees his dad show up behind her, and he doesn't seem as cheery about how high their tips are going to be tonight as everyone else does.
"Give us another fifteen minutes before your break, Danneel," Dad tells her. "I need to talk to my son."
"Sure thing, Mr. Ackles," Danneel says, her face only slightly blanching as she realizes he heard her bitching. "Have I mentioned how grateful I am to have this job and how much I love working here?"
"You must really want that car you're saving up for," Jensen says, and Danneel steps on his foot before grabbing the tray of waters he'd been filling and marching back to table 9.
"What's up, dad?" he asks. "We low on something? Does Jeff need an extra hand at the grill?"
"I need you to talk to your friend," he says.
Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "Danni? I thought she was doing pretty good, what with how busy we are and it's only her fourth day and-"
"Not Danneel," Dad replies. "She's doing fine. It's that delinquent you're so fond of, Jason or whatever."
"Jared? Jesus, Dad, don't call him that. He's just a kid."
"I know you've got a soft spot for him, but he's the kind of kid that grows up to be trouble. And right now, he's holding one of our best tables, and not ordering anything. As usual."
"He's got a test in Geography tomorrow to study for," Jensen says. "He doesn't have anywhere else to-"
"Look, I get it. And I've tried to be understanding, but we've got a line out the door and our customers are getting soaked waiting for a seat. We're running a business here, and it's not a daycare." Dad folds his arms over his chest. "I need you to tell him to leave."
"In the rain? At this hour?" Jensen frowns down at his shoes. "Can't we at least wait until his parents come to get him?"
"You're too old for this," Dad says. "You know damn well his parents aren't coming."
Jensen winces at that as if Dad just hit him. "So that means we should kick him out? You go tell him, then. Why make me do it?"
"You're a sweet kid, but sometimes running a business means putting your foot down." Dad sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. "Jensen, one day you're gonna be in charge of this place. I'm just trying to teach you responsible habits."
"Yeah, fine," Jensen snaps, pushing his dad's hand off of him, and he sees his dad's surprised expression. Jensen's never done anything but snap to attention at the mention of owning the diner, but if this is the kind of thing he'll have to get used to, Jensen wants no part of it.
"Son-"
"I said I'll do it." He grabs his dishcloth and tucks it into his apron as he stomps out into the busy restaurant and heads for the corner table. The table that he's thought of as Jared's table for the last two years.
He sits down and Jared beams up at him. "Okay, I've got all the capitals up until Louisiana. You can quiz me. That's almost half."
Jensen tries hard to smile, but he feels it slip, and he sees Jared noticing it. He'd been planning to teach Jared the Capitals Song during his break. Jared would've loved that stupid song.
"That's real good," he says. "Listen, Jared-"
"Are you okay?" Jared asks urgently, leaning across the table. "I know you wanted me to be at Nebraska by now. I almost made it to halfway, but I keep forgetting Maine. I'll have them all by your next break though, I promise."
"Jared, I have to…I have to ask if you're gonna order something," Jensen says, less kindly than he would have liked in his rush to force the words out. Jared's little face falls, and Jensen feels a sharp twist of guilt in his gut. "I'm sorry. It's just a really busy night, see, and we're-"
Jared's looking around, as if he's only just now noticed how many other people there are. "And I'm taking up the only available table. I'm costing you money."
Jensen looks away as he gives one quick nod of his head, and suddenly, Jared is scrambling like he can't get his stuff put away fast enough. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to. I won't do it again, Jensen. I promise, I won't ever do it again."
Jared rushes to his feet and Jensen tries to catch him on his way out. "Jared, wait. It's just tonight, okay?"
He shakes his head as he takes a step back from Jensen. "It's every night and you know it."
_______________________________________________________________
He doesn't see Jared again for months. A birthday passes, no one stopping by for their slice of chocolate cake, even though Jensen still begged his mom to make one. Just in case.
When he's in charge of seating at the diner, he keeps the corner table empty if he can, and when he can't, if anyone else dares to sit there, Jensen spends the better part of the night glaring at them just for existing.
It gets to the point that even his dad seems to feel guilty, asks where Jensen's friend Jared is and tells him it's okay if the kid comes around now and then. All Jensen can do is grit his teeth, because Dad made him ruin any chance of that happening.
And then, long after he's given up on seeing Jared again, he spots a shaggy head of brown hair as he's driving past the local middle school on his way home from classes. He slows to a stop, stares out trying to determine if he's actually seeing Jared or if he's just seeing another skinny kid with too much hair. When the person behind him honks, Jensen decides to pull into the parking lot for a better look.
Jared is leaning his head back against a wall, his eyes closed, when Jensen finds him. Jensen checks his watch and frowns, because middle school classes get out an hour later than high school, and Jared shouldn't be hiding out back by the parking lot.
Then Jared opens his eyes and smiles when he sees Jensen, instant reaction, and Jensen can't help that the lecture he'd been planning to give Jared dies on his now-upturned lips.
"What are you doing here?" Jared asks.
"Should ask you the same question," Jensen responds. "You're supposed to be in class."
Jared shrugs. "Just math."
"You like math," Jensen replies.
This time, Jared only half shrugs. The rest of him turns away. "I got bad at it."
"Is it because…" Jensen swallows the rest of the question, looking away. Already knows the answer. Jared needed him asking about his homework, helping him when it was hard. No one else'll do that for him.
"Seriously," Jared says, this time with a laugh in his tone. "What are you doing here, Jen?"
"Was driving by. I saw you. I thought I'd stop and-"
"Scold me?" Jared's words are sharp, but his tone is playful. He catches Jensen's eyes and gives him a warm smile. "Last thing I need, really. I get scolded plenty at home."
"How about a job?"
Jared's forehead wrinkles in confusion, and Jensen had forgotten that he really loved when it did that. "I'm only twelve. You know that."
"Wouldn't be anything official. I mean, we couldn't pay you. Just a few days after school, you could ride your bike around town putting out promotional stuff for us. I used to do that when I was your age. I can promise meals if you do that, and a place to go where you won't be scolded. And when you need help with math. Or with anything." He bites his bottom lip. "It was just that one night you couldn't stay, Jared. And I should've-I should've found space for you. I'm sorry I didn't. You're still welcome at Baby's."
"Your dad hates me. He'll never go for this."
"Nah," Jensen says, smiling. "He's been asking about you. He doesn't hate you, just hates losing money. You'd be helping out though. I promise he's nice once you get to know him."
Jared laughs. "Why do you care so much? All I do is get you in trouble."
"You're my friend," Jensen replies, simple as that, and Jared loses all the bravado, becomes the scared little kid he remembers.
He looks like he wants to say yes, but instead he kicks the ground. "I appreciate the offer and all, but I don't have a bike. And even if I did-" His cheeks get bright pink as he blushes. "-I wouldn't know how to ride it, anyway."
"But you said you'd fallen off your bike," Jensen points out.
Jared makes a confused face. "Huh?"
"The first time we met. When your arm was hurt. You said you fell off your bike."
"Right," Jared says slowly, nodding and letting out a tinny laugh. "And now you know why. Can't ride for shit."
Jensen can tell he's lying, but he doesn't call him out. He doesn't honestly want to know.
"I still have my old one, but I haven't touched it in ages. Much better to drive my truck, ya know?" Jensen grins. "I don't suppose it would take that long to teach you how to ride."
"You really mean it?" Jared asks.
Jensen grabs the brat by the shoulders and pulls him into a headlock, messing his hair up horribly before releasing him. "Only if you go to your classes, though. I'm gonna need to see progress reports and report cards."
"You're such a loser," Jared tells him, shoving at his chest.
"What do you say, then? Start Monday?"
Jared gives him a hug, then hesitates a few seconds. "Can I leave the bike at the diner? I don't want it to get…there's a lot of other kids at the home I'm at right now. Don't think they'd let me keep anything that nice."
"Of course," Jensen says, making his smile stay in place. "Now get to class!"
"Yeah, alright, bossman," Jared says, rolling his eyes as he turns back toward the school building. "Whatever you say."
_______________________________________________________________
There's a strike of lightning so close even stoic Jeff drops his spatula. Jensen starts counting the seconds right away (only nine before the clash of thunder) and excitedly announces, "Less than two miles away!"
Danneel is leaning on the counter next to him, staring out at the empty diner. "Super exciting," she says in a deadpan. "The next one will actually hit us."
"Let's hope she's not a psychic," Jeff replies. "I've got a game recording at home that I'd really like to watch before I die in a fire."
"How long do you think before the power goes and you have no choice but to let us all leave for the night?"
Jensen shrugs. "You're free to go whenever you want."
"Out in that," she says, tossing her head toward the window. "I don't think so."
Almost on cue, another bolt of lightning hits (twelve seconds) and someone steps inside from the rain and the dark that settled outside after the bright flash.
He sees Danneel start scowling at the prospect of a customer on a night like this, but it's only another beat before Jensen recognizes the thin frame and wild hair, and he feels himself smiling the way he always seems to do when Jared's around.
A few moments later, Jared is stepping into the light, shaking himself off as discreetly as possible. Jensen rounds the corner with a dry cloth in one hand and comes to meet him by the door.
"Hey," he says, handing Jared the towel. "Here, dry off a little. What's up, man? You don't work on weekends."
Jared lifts his head enough for Jensen to see him, and he's holding himself so that Jensen genuinely can't tell right away if that's a shadow or a big purple bruise over his eye. He reaches out, and Jared flinches as soon as his fingers make contact. So that answers that.
"Don't-" he says, but Jensen's already grabbing him by the arm, steering him toward the nearest table.
"Jay, what happened?" he asks. "God, are you okay? That's really bad, I-tell me what happened."
"Doesn't matter," Jared replies.
"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Jensen asks. "Look at you." He reaches out and brushes Jared's hair aside, and in the better light, he can see Jared's swollen lip, the cut on the side of his forehead. "Jesus, I'll get Danneel to bring you an ice pack and we'll-"
Jared stops him urgently and Jensen looks down to see that the knuckles on his fist are all busted, too. As soon as he realizes Jensen's seen them, Jared pulls the end of his hoodie over his hand and he leans in whispering, "Please don't get them involved."
Jensen is thinking about it when Jared takes his hand, forgetting that he's hiding his bloody fingers, and he grips Jensen with such urgency that Jensen looks up to meet his eyes.
"I know-I know your parents don't like me and it's a lot to ask and…" He takes a deep breath. "Jensen, can I stay with you tonight? Please?"
In truth, his parents would be pissed if they knew he was even considering letting Jared into their house. But they're out of town this weekend, and they left Jensen in charge. Well, mostly in charge, anyway. He'll have to get Jeff to agree to close the diner early, but there's no way he's turning Jared out on a night like this. Not again.
"Of course," he says, smiling faintly. "Jared, of course. We were just about to close up."
Jensen lifts his head and shouts, "Jeff, let's call it a night. We're not getting any more customers in here."
He watches Jeff scratch his salt and pepper beard across the counter, and finally he looks at Danneel's pleading eyes and gives a shrug. "I'm fine with it. You sure your daddy won't mind?"
"Nah, I'll just explain we're saving more money by closing down." He smiles, even though he's not completely sure his dad'll go for it. He'll figure that out on Monday when he has to explain himself. For now, he's more concerned with Jared, who's shaking from the blast of the air conditioning on his soaked clothes.
"Try to stay dry, you kids," Danneel shouts as she makes for the door.
Jeff watches her leave with a laugh and smiles at Jensen. "Go on, you oughta get home, too. I'll take care of closing."
"By yourself?" Jensen asks.
"Not much to do," he says with a shrug.
Jensen hesitates only one second longer before he's on his feet and pulling Jared up. "Thanks, man, you're the best."
Jeff salutes him as the door jingles to announce their leaving.
All he wants right now is to get Jared somewhere quiet and alone, somewhere the kid might actually talk to him. So only a few steps out the door, Jensen pauses to open the Impala and pulls Jared into the backseat next to him.
Once they're sitting in the car and the rain is safely outside, Jared slumps into his seat. "You shouldn't have done that. If your dad finds out you shut down because of me he'll-"
"He'll be fine," Jensen says. "We weren't making any money anyway."
"I just don't want you to get hurt," Jared says quietly, and Jensen's heart leaps to his throat.
"Jared, my dad doesn't hurt me over stuff like that," he says. "I know he can seem strict, but Jesus, he doesn't-did your dad do this to you?"
Jared shakes his head and looks out the window, even though there's nothing to see except the same old parking lot they've sat in a million times before, even if the rain wasn't falling so heavy it's nearly impossible to make anything out.
"Hey, look at me," Jensen says, putting his hand on Jared's thigh. "I just want to help."
Jared jumps at Jensen's touch, but Jensen doesn't pull back. He waits until Jared has a chance to orient himself, to see that this is Jensen and he's not going to hurt him.
"Please talk to me," he says. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me."
"Just this one night," Jared promises. "I can't go back there. I'll be good. I'll be good for you if you don't make me go back there."
"Go where?" Jensen asks. "Where did this happen? Tell me who did this to you."
Outside, the lights from the diner all go off, the rotating sign on the roof reading 'Baby's' the last to flicker out. Jared looks up at the sign, always has had a fondness for it, and then his eyes find Jensen's.
"I always imagined this happening here, in this car," he says, smiling for the first time all night. Then he leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Jensen's mouth.
Jensen shoves him away, too shocked to process it. "Hey, stop," he says. "Jared, what are you doing?"
"I'll be good," Jared promises again. "I will. I'll be very good for you. You won't regret helping me, okay?"
"You're good," Jensen says, reaching out to stroke Jared's hair. "You're good, I'm happy to help you. But you're too young to do…that. With me. You're just a kid."
Jared frowns down at his hands. "'m not."
"You're thirteen," Jensen says with a laugh. He rubs his fingers over his mouth, a little embarrassed because that had been his first kiss.
"That's old enough for everyone else," says Jared.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jensen feels like he might be sick, so he turns his face away, hoping Jared can't see it. "I need you to tell me what happened."
"Please, I'm so tired. I'll tell you tomorrow. Just don't make me talk about it tonight," Jared replies. He sounds like he's half a syllable from crying, and Jensen can't take that.
"Alright," he agrees. "Come on, let's make a break for the truck so we can go home, huh? Baby isn't gonna drive us there, unfortunately."
"Or I can stay here," Jared says. "If you don't want me in your house. I can just stay in here. I like it in here. Feels safe."
Jensen smiles at that, but he shakes his head anyway. "Don't be crazy. It's freezing. We need to get you some dry clothes."
Fifteen minutes later, they're huddled on Jensen's porch, newly drenched from their run to and from the car, and Jared is shuddering against his back as he tries to find the right key for the door.
He finally gets it open with the light from his phone helping, and as soon as he's inside, he's thinking through everything he'll need.
"Okay, I'll pick out something that might fit you. And let me grab a towel. And then I'll try to bandage up some of those cuts," Jensen says, running through a checklist in his head.
He smiles encouragingly as he leads Jared to his room and starts digging through drawers, picking out a big t shirt and some pajama pants. He throws in an old hoodie for good measure.
Jared catches the clothes he tosses. "They're gonna be a little big on you, but hopefully they'll do for the night. Once you've changed, I can throw your wet clothes in the laundry so you have something clean and warm to wear tomorrow."
"You don't have to do all this," Jared says, looking down at the bundle in his hands. "I just need a floor to sleep on."
Jensen ruffles his friend's wet hair. "Now, I don't have a spare bed, but the couch isn't too bad. I'll go grab some sheets and a pillow for you while you change."
"Jensen-" Jared starts, but he can tell the kid is about to insist he doesn't have to again, so he ignores him, heading out into the small living room with enough sheets and blankets to turn the lumpy couch into an acceptable place to sleep.
He knocks on the door to his room again a few minutes later and then lets himself in. Jared is wearing the boxers Jensen gave him, and he's got the t shirt in one hand, but he's staring at the pictures on Jensen's nightstand instead of putting it on.
Jensen has to cover his mouth to keep himself from making any noise, because Jared's body is covered in scars and bruises, some still fresh and some fading into green.
"Jay," he says, stepping in, and as soon as he hears Jensen, Jared pulls the shirt on over his head.
To Jensen's surprise, he smiles and points to the picture, as if Jensen didn't just see a history of violence spelled out across his ribcage. "You look happy."
"Was my tenth birthday," Jensen says. "I'd never been to Disney Land before."
"Tenth birthdays are important," Jared says quietly. He looks up at Jensen warmly. "I'm ready to go to bed. Bet you're tired, too."
"Yeah," Jensen says. "You can sleep in here."
He's expecting that to get another one of those grins he loves so much out of Jared, but instead the smile slips and Jared nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll be good. I promise."
"I know you will, kiddo," Jensen says. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
Jared gives him a confused face. "You're not gonna sleep in here?"
"I think we're a little old to share," Jensen says with a laugh. "Go on, you take the bed. Couch is fine for me."
"No," says Jared. "No, I'll go on the couch. I didn't realize you were-" He smiles. "Couch is great, Jensen. Thanks."
He pauses in the doorway to give Jensen a hug, and Jensen can't help wrapping his arms around Jared's shoulders.
Things are quiet for a long time after that, and eventually Jensen falls asleep. He wakes up a few hours later, 3:45 a.m. according to his alarm clock, and it's still raining hard outside. He listens for a few minutes as he waits to fall back asleep, trying to determine if the sound he's hearing is wind from the storm or crying.
He stares up at the ceiling as his half-asleep brain cycles through, at first wondering if it's one of his parents, then remembering they're out of town, and then it hits him that Jared is here.
So he rushes to the living room, where the sound is louder and clearer.
"Jared," he whispers. "Jared, is that you?"
No one answers him, so he gets closer. Close enough to see that, hunched up in a little ball, turned away from him so he's facing the back of the couch, Jared is still asleep. But he's most definitely crying, as well.
Jensen sits at the very edge of the couch next to his friend and lightly touches Jared's shoulder, "Hey, wake up," he says. "I think you're having a nightmare."
Jared's body goes rigid as soon as Jensen's hand makes contact. His eyes shoot open and before Jensen knows what's happening, Jared is sitting up, shoving Jensen away from him with surprising violence.
"Don't touch me!" he yells.
Jensen stares up at him, at this kid he's known for years and tries his best to take care of, and he can't help it if his face is showing how hurt he is. He's flat on his ass on the floor with Jared towering above him, his bandaged hand forming a fist.
He raises his arms to try to block the hit, but it's not a punch he's scared of. It's the response. It's that after everything he's done, Jared still thinks he's the kind of person who would come to him in the middle of the night and try to touch him.
And then Jared's expression changes, all the wildness going out of it, and he lowers his hand. "Jensen?" he asks. "God, Jensen, I'm so sorry. I thought-I thought you were someone else."
His whole world tilts on its axis, leaving Jensen feeling seasick. Because that, somehow, that's even worse than what he'd thought before.
It wasn't about him at all. Someone else, someone Jared should have been able to trust, had done that. Hurt this sweet little boy and made it so that even sleeping wasn't safe, and all that stupid, selfish Jensen could think about was his own hurt feelings.
He stands, watching as Jared bows his head in shame and stares at his feet. "I'll leave," he says.
Jensen takes Jared's face between his hands and looks his friend in the eye for a long time, making sure Jared is okay with the contact before he pulls the boy into a hug. "You don't have to leave," he whispers as Jared lets out a sob and wraps his arms around Jensen. "Don't leave. Stay here, I won't hurt you. Please stay."
Of course, by the next morning, Jared is gone, the clothes Jensen leant him left folded on the couch, except for the hoodie. He never tells Jensen what made him come to the diner for help, but it doesn't matter. Jensen knows enough.
ON TO PART TWO
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