Fire In The Hole 3/6
FIRE IN THE HOLE 3/6
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: 4,601
Beta: candygramme
Disclaimer: There is absolutely no truth to this and I am not earning a penny.
Warnings: violence, adult, language, political themes, homophobia
Summary: At seventeen and growing up in a white supremacist camp, Jared's life is going nowhere fast. He doesn't feel like he belongs, but sees no way out - until the arrival of a new member shakes things up in the paramilitary group. Jared doesn't know whether he should be intrigued or afraid of Jensen Ackles, but when he gets caught in the power play around him coming to a head, he's left with little choice in the matter.
ART POST . STORY MASTERPOST
<< PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Part Three
“Why the quiet treatment, Jared?”
He flinched, the book he'd been reading slipping from his grip and onto the floor with a thump. His heart was racing from the surprise, and he swallowed, looking up at a slightly amused looking Jensen.
“Wh- What?”
He sounded like an idiot, and usually that wouldn't bother him, but with Jensen it did. He was the only person here who had never made him feel like one.
“You haven't said a word to me in like three days. What's going on?” Jensen didn't look mad - more worried, to be honest - which was probably the only reason Jared was actually able to say anything in return. He didn't like it when people got angry, it choked him up.
“I... I'm sorry; I've been busy.” It wasn't true. He was never really busy. Instead he busied himself to make it look like he was, so that people would leave the weird kid alone. He had to admit to himself that he was indeed avoiding Jensen. Maybe it wasn't fair because unlike most, the man had never done anything to Jared. But it had been scary to realize that Jensen wasn't really like him, wasn't different from the rest of the men in the Brotherhood. It made Jared feel like Jensen just hadn't realized yet that Jared was, indeed, not one of them.
“Must be a damn good book then,” Jensen said with a wry smile as he plopped down on the ground next to Jared. He was sitting outside again. He was always sitting outside. It gave him a certain feeling of safety and freedom to know that he was in plain view rather than cooped up inside the house.
He didn't deny nor confirm it. It wasn't a good book, actually, most of the ones he'd find around here weren't. But he didn't get a lot of chances to go and buy new books. So he just shrugged, picking up the item in question and closing it. He didn't know what page he was on but he didn't really care anyway.
“D'you come to see my dad? He's not here.”
Jensen's eyebrows rose. “No. Don't take this the wrong way... but I don't really like your dad.”
It took a bit of restraint not to start laughing at that, because Jared himself didn't like his dad either. He could remember a time when he thought his dad was the greatest. Then he'd turned eight, and his dad had turned drunk, and all the greatness was drowned in cheap booze. But family was a big word around here, and Jared felt obliged to at least question Jensen's statement.
“Why?”
“I don't think I've ever seen the man sober. I don't trust a man who might be too damn drunk to have my back when I need him to.”
He nodded. Most of the time it seemed like the rest of the Brothers either didn't notice or didn't care. It was as if alcoholism was a lifestyle around here. They all drank, and quite a few of them drank too much. It was what men did, and for Jared it was one more reason to keep his distance. Drunk men could be dangerous.
“I was gonna go into town. Do you wanna come with? Maybe get yourself some new books or something?”
Jared chewed on his lower lip. To be honest he'd love to go with Jensen. But he couldn't. His dad had told him to clean the house while he was gone, and Jared was not even half way finished. He'd taken a longer break than he should have already and if he wasn't done in time, he'd be in big trouble.
“I'm sorry, I can't. I still got lots of stuff to do before dad comes back.”
Jensen seemed only a little disappointed as he got back up. “Okay, another time then.”
“Yeah,” he said forcing a small smile onto his face as he watched Jensen walk away before sighing. He'd better get that clean-up finished.
- -
Jared hated the smell of beer, he hated the smell of beer on a person's breath or on the furniture when a drunken hand had spilled it on there. He could smell it again, like most evenings, and the smell of it made him feel anxious and uneasy. When he could smell whiskey, he knew that it would be only a matter of time before his dad would fall asleep. But beer wasn't strong enough for that. It only took enough of his reason to make Jared wary.
The problem was that, while Jared was a bad liar, he was bad at hiding his own anxiety, and the aversion he felt to the smell of his father's breath. That only got worse when he was tired. Somehow his survival instinct got numbed when he was tired, and he forgot to keep his head down. Now he'd been cleaning all afternoon, and he was exhausted. He knew he should just get to his room and close the door until the next morning, but on his way there he was called back by his father's rough voice demanding him to bring out another bottle.
He swallowed before turning around and walking to the open kitchenette area. He could feel his hand shaking as he opened the fridge, and he felt... scared. Taking deep breaths, Jared told himself to just calm down. He had done this a thousand times, and he knew it was easy, only tonight - for some strange reason - it wasn't.
That was the moment the water-beaded bottle slipped through his fingers crashing to the ground and exploding into a hundred pieces. Beer spilled over Jared's naked feet and onto the hardwood floor. He froze, mentally scolding himself for getting nervous enough about something so simple to fuck it up.
“What the fuck are you doing, boy?”
Jared didn't look up, didn't answer, just watched the beer soak through the wood, the wet spot stretching out.
“I'm talking to you!”
He was pulled sideways by his arm, body turning towards the center of the room. His father was standing right in front of him but he didn't look up. He had the image in his mind already, he didn't need to see it. He knew he should apologize, should try to make it right. But his throat was closed off, and he couldn't take a breath, even less say a word.
The first slap came instantly, snapping his head sideways and making stars explode behind his left eye. The sting was familiar and sharp, and he pulled his neck in trying to shrink away, but there was a second pain exploding around his ear, then his shoulder. He raised his arms, trying to shield his face and closed his eyes waiting for it to end. The kitchen counter bit into his side when he was pushed against it, and he knew that things would probably getting a lot worse before they got better again.
Then it stopped, earlier than expected. For a second he thought that his father had slipped, due to his already drunken state and had fallen. But then he could hear voices, curses, and the shuffle of feet. Jared opened his eyes, looking up wide-eyed and was stunned to find his father pinned against the wall with blood running down his nose. He was struggling, was lashing out with drunken vengeance and was smacked in the teeth with an elbow by Jensen, who was pushing him hard against the wall. The younger man's jaw was clenched, eyes furious, and he had an iron grip on Jared's father.
“Don't you ever touch him again, do you hear me?”
“Get off me you bastard!” Another attempt to lash out at Jensen's face, and Jared's father was thrown across the former soldier's hips to hit the floor with a loud crash that winded him completely.
“If you ever hit your son again I will kill you, you hear me?”
Jared was frozen to the spot staring incredulously at his father lying on the hard wood floor with blood running down his angry looking face but not even trying to get up. He didn't say a word, didn't try to stop Jensen when the man stepped over him to grab Jared by the wrist and pull him out the door. It was almost surreal, and Jared only noticed that they were outside when his naked feet hit the cold gravel of the walkway out. Then he flinched looking down.
For a second he stopped, wondering why he was standing on cold pebbles with wet, bare feet, then he could feel the hand around his wrist tighten and stumbled back into walking when Jensen pulled him along. The cold air of the fresh night woke him up a little, and he coughed to get his voice back.
“Where- Where are we going?”
“You will stay at my house for the night. I don't trust him until he's sobered up,” Jensen said with a cool finality that made all protests leave Jared immediately.
“He never sobers up,” Jared admitted with a small voice.
“I guess then you'll just have to stay longer.”
“O- Okay,” he answered, not really sure what he was agreeing to in the first place.
Jared walked along, hopping from one foot to the other when he stepped onto a twig or a sharp stone. Thankfully the camp wasn't very widely spread out, and it only took two minutes to get to Jensen's small wooden cabin. Once inside, Jared just stood there... waiting.
“Sit down, Jared.” He flinched when Jensen took him by the shoulders to push him towards a short, ragged looking couch, and Jensen stopped immediately. “What- Are you scared of me?”
He flopped down on the sofa, feeling a spring dig into his left thigh. There was no use in denying it, so he simply nodded. Jensen had just beaten his dad to a bloody pulp. Of course Jared was scared. He was surprised to see Jensen look sad rather than angry about that admission.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Jay. I just... I couldn't let him hurt you.”
With that the man turned away walking away with silent steps. Jared could hear water running before Jensen reappeared with a wet towel.
“You got blood on your face,” he said handing Jared the white cloth.
“You got blood on your hands,” Jared answered feeling a little numb inside. But there was a different feeling in there too, a flutter in his stomach, a weird kind of relief, because he was out of that house if only for a night.
Jensen nodded, looking at his split knuckles while Jared dabbed away on a split eyebrow, only then noticing the sting of pain around his eye socket and the taste of blood on his mouth. He wondered if his dad felt the same kind of pain, and somehow it made a small smile break out on his lips.
“Why don't you go to sleep? The couch isn't exactly comfortable but you look exhausted.”
Jared looked up when he found a blanket shoved at him. He had expected questions or snide comments, reprimand for not fighting back... anything. He had been wrong. Nodding gratefully, Jared pulled his cold feet up onto the couch and wrapped the blanket around himself. It didn't take more than a minute before he fell asleep.
- -
“Jensen!”
Jared awoke with a start, rolling off the side of the couch with a thump. He untangled himself from the blanket with a few frantic kicks before realizing where he was. Then the memory of what had happened the night before returned to him, and a cold fist curled in his stomach.
He got to his feet and padded to the door looking out the open window next to it apprehensively. Jensen was standing only a few yards away from the front door. Whatever he had been doing a few seconds ago was forgotten as he was approached by someone out of Jared's view. Jared didn't move to see who it was, afraid to be noticed.
There were a few people he really didn't need to see face to face, and one of them was Clay. The man's voice was more than recognizable to Jared after the years and years of speeches he had been forced to witness. So Jared stopped, leaned against the door of the cabin from the inside, out of sight and waiting for their fearless leader to go back to hating humanity from his favorite spot in the community hall.
He didn't mean to listen in, but obviously talking quietly was not one of Clay's strong points. “Padalecki put in a complaint about you.”
Jared's spine went straight as an arrow the moment he heard his family name, and the previous intention to simply wait was replaced by the need to really listen. This couldn't be good.
Jensen's voice was less booming than Clay's but his low chuckle could still be heard well enough by someone eavesdropping. “Is that so?”
“He doesn't appreciate you questioning the way he educates his son,” Clay said, with a voice that was too steady and too cheerful, making Jared's spine tingle with cold.
“Is that what he calls it? Education?”
“It's none of your business, Jensen.”
“He was smacking the kid around, and Jared didn't even try to defend himself!” Jensen's words were sharp and fast, enunciation too precise, betraying anger and something fierce.
“As I said, it's not your business or anybody else's for that matter. And you had no right to smack his face in like that.”
“Yes it is my business,” Jensen interjected, with a growl that made Jared's breath hitch. “That boy is one of us. He's a brother, and I don't know about you, but I protect my brothers. There are enough enemy forces to fight against. We need to at least stand together with our own kind, Clay.”
Jared's mouth went dry. He had never been defended by anybody, since his dad joined the community of the Brothers... not until last night.
Clay snorted loudly, chuckling, and it sounded like old grease, making Jared feel filthy just from the sound penetrating his ears. “That boy isn't brotherhood material, Jensen.”
“How do you know? He's not a bad kid. But he's scared, and he doesn't trust any of you, and why the fuck should he when you let him be mistreated like that, huh?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“Because I am the only fucking person in this camp who actually went to the trouble of getting to know Jared. You're throwing away the chance of having a good boy grow into a better man. But if that drunkard father of his is allowed to go on like that, the kid will be lost. To the cause and to himself.”
“I don't have time to babysit one lost little boy, Jensen.”
“And I don't ask you to. Just let me do what I think is right. He needed a friend, and that's what I am.”
“This isn't summer camp.”
“No. But he's just a kid, Clay.”
There was silence for a while, and Jared frowned, wondering what was going on between the two men who were discussing his life. It made him a little angry that they could just chat about the way he was treated by everybody, like it was the weather. But then he would hear the edge in Jensen's voice and feel the anger the man was holding back, and his own anger would evaporate.
“Fine. You can write in each other's diaries for all I care. If you get the kid to stop being such a pussy, it may be worth the trouble... I'll talk to Padalecki.”
Jared knew that his father wouldn't like it, and he could feel his skin tingling with the anticipation of the man's rage.
“I'm going hunting tomorrow. I'll take Jared with me. The kid can use some air and something to shoot.”
“Whatever. But he's a lousy shot. Try not to get killed by accident when he's fucking up again.”
There were footsteps audible, and Jared dared sneaking a peak through the window once more to see Clay walking away in the direction of the community hall and his first - or maybe third - beer of the day.
“You know, eavesdropping can get people in trouble, Jay.”
Jared stepped back, eyes snapping to a smirking Jensen who was placing a piece of wood on the short stump of a tree trunk before picking up an axe and chopping it in two with a single blow. He had obviously been caught spying, so he saw no other option but open the cabin door and walk outside to be reprimanded.
“I- I'm sorry, Jensen, I just... I swear, I didn't mean to spy on you or anything.”
Another piece of wood was cut in two with the swoosh of the axe and the chop of the blade. Jensen sighed dropping the axe onto the chopping block to leave it stuck there before walking towards Jared who was fidgeting on his spot by the door.
“Don't worry about it. We were talking about you after all.” He slapped his hand over Jared's shoulder with a smile, head tilting sideways. “How much did you hear?”
“Everything”, Jared said blushing, dropping his head in embarrassment. “Thanks for standing up for me.”
“Somebody has to, and obviously everybody around here is too busy with their hands down their own pants to give a shit.”
It was a rude and disrespectful comment that would get Jensen into so much trouble should anybody hear it, but all Jared could do was burst into laughter at the amount of guts Jensen had. The man only grinned at Jared shrugging before looping his hand behind the teen's neck and pulling him back inside.
“I heard you're a terrible shot. I intend to change that if you accept my invitation to go hunting.”
Jared nodded with a smile on his face. He didn't care for hunting or shooting, but if he got to get out of this stupid camp and get to spend time with Jensen, he would do his best to be a good student.
- -
“Why were you there last night?”
It had taken Jared half an hour of quietly eating the breakfast Jensen put in front of his nose before he'd mustered up the guts to ask that question. He had thought of a lot of explanations. But none had made sense in his mind.
Jensen looked at him with a blank expression for a moment, before the question seemed to reach his higher cortex. “I had something I wanted to give you.”
Jared watched the man get up and walk towards the door where an indistinct white bag was leaning against the wall. Jensen picked it up walking back to Jared with a sheepish smile before dumping the whole bag onto Jared's lap. The teen frowned, pushing away his almost empty plate before carefully opening the white plastic to peer inside. A smile spread across his face when he found an innocent selection of books. Pulling them out one by one, he found them to be a diverse mixture of novels and non-fiction.
“Where'd you get these?”
Jensen laughed, and it made Jared bite his lower lip, because he wasn't used to something sounding so good. “As hard as it may be to believe, I bought them. But I didn't know what you liked, so I tried to get a bit of everything.”
There was definitely a bit of everything in that bag, and Jared saw at least three books that his dad would not approve of him having. Maybe Jensen hadn't paid close attention to what he was buying... yeah, that must be it. But Jared was not going to point that out to him. Jensen was nicer to him than anyone he'd known since moving into the Brotherhood camp, and Jared would not jeopardize that.
“Thanks. These are great.” And they were, even though he'd have to hide some of them under his mattress.
- -
It was a sunny day, and Jared wondered how Jensen had managed to get his things while he was taking a shower at Jensen's cabin. Hopefully Jared's father had been out at the community house for a drink, or Jared could only imagine the ugly scene that had happened. But if anything unpleasant had gone down there, Jensen gave no indication of it as he handed Jared his boots and jacket.
“Couldn't let you trudge through the woods on bare feet, could I?” the man simply said with a grin as Jared eyed him warily.
It didn't take long for them to pack up the things Jensen deemed necessary and head out into the sunshine of a late summer morning. Jared adjusted his pace to fit Jensen's and they kept a decent hiking speed that saw them across the hillside and in the next valley by noon. It was a quiet walk and Jared appreciated the silent company and the simple-mindedness of their activity. It was calm, and, while he could let his mind wander, every step away from that place made his shoulders feel less weighed down.
They stopped earlier than expected, and Jared looked around questioningly as Jensen sat down his pack. “Why are we stopping already?”
“Let's take a break. This isn't a race.”
Jared nodded, sitting down on a slate of stone standing out of the mossy ground. He broke out his water bottle and took a sip as he looked up to see the leaves of the trees around them swing and shiver in a light breeze.
“How's your head?” Jensen asked. For a moment Jared frowned, surprised at the non-sequitur question, but as he ran his fingers through the fringe hanging into his eyes, he flinched. There were the scabbed up remains of a smaller wound along his hairline, and it took Jared a moment to remember where he got it. He didn't know which hit exactly had caused it, but it didn't really matter.
“It's fine. It only hurts when I touch it,” he answered looking down at his hands where they clutched the bottle. He hadn't even looked into the mirror for the last two days and suddenly found himself wondering if he had any other bruises, maybe a black eye too. His side had still felt a little tender during the walk, and suddenly Jared understood why Jensen was taking an early break. It was in consideration of Jared's possible injuries. He could feel his face flush at the realization.
“Good. Are you up for some target practice then?”
Grateful that Jensen was taking his dismissal of his injuries at face value, Jared nodded quickly. “Sure.”
- -
People don't learn to be an amazing shot in a day, and by the end of their target practice, Jared was maybe an alright shot, decent at best, and all of that only under strict supervision, with an unmoving target and a lot of calm preparation. Still Jensen praised him for every time he did a little better than before. It was almost embarrassing, but Jared enjoyed it more than he thought he would.
“You're not as hopeless as they made it sound,” Jensen commented ruffling Jared's hair with a dusty hand. The teen shot him a look that was half appreciative and half annoyed before going about reloading his rifle.
“For a guy who never cared to learn how to shoot properly, you sure know how to handle a gun.”
Jared shrugged as he slipped the bullets into place. “Dad's had me take care of his weapons for years.”
At the mention of Jared's father, Jensen's face grew noticeably colder. An uneasy silence fell across the two men, and Jared ducked his head to concentrate on the rifle rather than the tension that started to build up suddenly.
“Was he always like that?”
It was a simple question, but Jared hadn't expected such a direct approach even from Jensen, so he hesitated for a long moment. He considered playing dumb as if he hadn't understood the question, but they both knew that he had. In the end he sighed as he shouldered his reloaded rifle.
“No... Just the last few years.” Sometimes Jared wondered if it would be easier for him when things had always been that way, and there was no happier life before that he could compare his current one with. But then he'd scold himself for thinking stupid stuff like that.
Jensen nodded, and Jared got the feeling that the man was giving him the opportunity to talk about it in his own time. Instead, Jared asked his own question.
“Why did you get so mad yesterday? The others don't care. Why would you?” He bit his lip wondering if it was a good idea to question Jensen's motives when he was the only person looking out for him. What if Jensen didn't have an answer, instead realizing that there was no reason to stand up for Jared.
The older man was quiet for a long time, crouching down to tie his boot. Maybe he was buying time while he tried to consider an answer... or maybe he hoped Jared didn't expect an answer any more after the quiet stretched out for too long. When he stood back up and looked at Jared, the youth was actually surprised as Jensen answered after all.
“You're not the only one with an asshole family, Jared. It's probably none of my business. But I know what it's like.” They looked at each other quietly for a few long seconds, and Jared believed him. The side of Jensen's mouth twitched into the shadow of a smirk. “Maybe that's why. I'm not blind, and I knew you needed a friend. Didn't seem to have one though, so... here I am.” Jensen shrugged. “Seeing you and your dad yesterday made me snap. It wasn't the best way to handle this but, damn, he deserved every punch. I'm not gonna apologize for that.”
“I don't want you to.” Jared sniffed, trying to hide the emotions Jensen's little speech shook lose inside of him. “Thanks.”
“Don't sweat it.”
Jensen's nonchalant answer made Jared a little more brave. “So... Your father was like that too?”
“Sometimes.” The answer was curt and not very elaborate. Obviously Jensen didn't want to share details. Jared knew the feeling. He just had one more question.
“How'd you make it stop?”
Green eyes suddenly turned sharp, and a tingle went down Jared's spine as they stared at Jared. “I got fed up with it. Graduated High School, broke his nose and joined the Army.”
“You... You hit him?”
Nodding, Jensen grabbed his backpack from the ground sliding it back onto his shoulders. “First and only time.” The spell of honesty was broken when Jensen started walking again. “Let's go. We still got lots of ground to cover.”
NEXT CHAPTER >>
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: 4,601
Beta: candygramme
Disclaimer: There is absolutely no truth to this and I am not earning a penny.
Warnings: violence, adult, language, political themes, homophobia
Summary: At seventeen and growing up in a white supremacist camp, Jared's life is going nowhere fast. He doesn't feel like he belongs, but sees no way out - until the arrival of a new member shakes things up in the paramilitary group. Jared doesn't know whether he should be intrigued or afraid of Jensen Ackles, but when he gets caught in the power play around him coming to a head, he's left with little choice in the matter.
ART POST . STORY MASTERPOST
<< PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Part Three
“Why the quiet treatment, Jared?”
He flinched, the book he'd been reading slipping from his grip and onto the floor with a thump. His heart was racing from the surprise, and he swallowed, looking up at a slightly amused looking Jensen.
“Wh- What?”
He sounded like an idiot, and usually that wouldn't bother him, but with Jensen it did. He was the only person here who had never made him feel like one.
“You haven't said a word to me in like three days. What's going on?” Jensen didn't look mad - more worried, to be honest - which was probably the only reason Jared was actually able to say anything in return. He didn't like it when people got angry, it choked him up.
“I... I'm sorry; I've been busy.” It wasn't true. He was never really busy. Instead he busied himself to make it look like he was, so that people would leave the weird kid alone. He had to admit to himself that he was indeed avoiding Jensen. Maybe it wasn't fair because unlike most, the man had never done anything to Jared. But it had been scary to realize that Jensen wasn't really like him, wasn't different from the rest of the men in the Brotherhood. It made Jared feel like Jensen just hadn't realized yet that Jared was, indeed, not one of them.
“Must be a damn good book then,” Jensen said with a wry smile as he plopped down on the ground next to Jared. He was sitting outside again. He was always sitting outside. It gave him a certain feeling of safety and freedom to know that he was in plain view rather than cooped up inside the house.
He didn't deny nor confirm it. It wasn't a good book, actually, most of the ones he'd find around here weren't. But he didn't get a lot of chances to go and buy new books. So he just shrugged, picking up the item in question and closing it. He didn't know what page he was on but he didn't really care anyway.
“D'you come to see my dad? He's not here.”
Jensen's eyebrows rose. “No. Don't take this the wrong way... but I don't really like your dad.”
It took a bit of restraint not to start laughing at that, because Jared himself didn't like his dad either. He could remember a time when he thought his dad was the greatest. Then he'd turned eight, and his dad had turned drunk, and all the greatness was drowned in cheap booze. But family was a big word around here, and Jared felt obliged to at least question Jensen's statement.
“Why?”
“I don't think I've ever seen the man sober. I don't trust a man who might be too damn drunk to have my back when I need him to.”
He nodded. Most of the time it seemed like the rest of the Brothers either didn't notice or didn't care. It was as if alcoholism was a lifestyle around here. They all drank, and quite a few of them drank too much. It was what men did, and for Jared it was one more reason to keep his distance. Drunk men could be dangerous.
“I was gonna go into town. Do you wanna come with? Maybe get yourself some new books or something?”
Jared chewed on his lower lip. To be honest he'd love to go with Jensen. But he couldn't. His dad had told him to clean the house while he was gone, and Jared was not even half way finished. He'd taken a longer break than he should have already and if he wasn't done in time, he'd be in big trouble.
“I'm sorry, I can't. I still got lots of stuff to do before dad comes back.”
Jensen seemed only a little disappointed as he got back up. “Okay, another time then.”
“Yeah,” he said forcing a small smile onto his face as he watched Jensen walk away before sighing. He'd better get that clean-up finished.
- -
Jared hated the smell of beer, he hated the smell of beer on a person's breath or on the furniture when a drunken hand had spilled it on there. He could smell it again, like most evenings, and the smell of it made him feel anxious and uneasy. When he could smell whiskey, he knew that it would be only a matter of time before his dad would fall asleep. But beer wasn't strong enough for that. It only took enough of his reason to make Jared wary.
The problem was that, while Jared was a bad liar, he was bad at hiding his own anxiety, and the aversion he felt to the smell of his father's breath. That only got worse when he was tired. Somehow his survival instinct got numbed when he was tired, and he forgot to keep his head down. Now he'd been cleaning all afternoon, and he was exhausted. He knew he should just get to his room and close the door until the next morning, but on his way there he was called back by his father's rough voice demanding him to bring out another bottle.
He swallowed before turning around and walking to the open kitchenette area. He could feel his hand shaking as he opened the fridge, and he felt... scared. Taking deep breaths, Jared told himself to just calm down. He had done this a thousand times, and he knew it was easy, only tonight - for some strange reason - it wasn't.
That was the moment the water-beaded bottle slipped through his fingers crashing to the ground and exploding into a hundred pieces. Beer spilled over Jared's naked feet and onto the hardwood floor. He froze, mentally scolding himself for getting nervous enough about something so simple to fuck it up.
“What the fuck are you doing, boy?”
Jared didn't look up, didn't answer, just watched the beer soak through the wood, the wet spot stretching out.
“I'm talking to you!”
He was pulled sideways by his arm, body turning towards the center of the room. His father was standing right in front of him but he didn't look up. He had the image in his mind already, he didn't need to see it. He knew he should apologize, should try to make it right. But his throat was closed off, and he couldn't take a breath, even less say a word.
The first slap came instantly, snapping his head sideways and making stars explode behind his left eye. The sting was familiar and sharp, and he pulled his neck in trying to shrink away, but there was a second pain exploding around his ear, then his shoulder. He raised his arms, trying to shield his face and closed his eyes waiting for it to end. The kitchen counter bit into his side when he was pushed against it, and he knew that things would probably getting a lot worse before they got better again.
Then it stopped, earlier than expected. For a second he thought that his father had slipped, due to his already drunken state and had fallen. But then he could hear voices, curses, and the shuffle of feet. Jared opened his eyes, looking up wide-eyed and was stunned to find his father pinned against the wall with blood running down his nose. He was struggling, was lashing out with drunken vengeance and was smacked in the teeth with an elbow by Jensen, who was pushing him hard against the wall. The younger man's jaw was clenched, eyes furious, and he had an iron grip on Jared's father.
“Don't you ever touch him again, do you hear me?”
“Get off me you bastard!” Another attempt to lash out at Jensen's face, and Jared's father was thrown across the former soldier's hips to hit the floor with a loud crash that winded him completely.
“If you ever hit your son again I will kill you, you hear me?”
Jared was frozen to the spot staring incredulously at his father lying on the hard wood floor with blood running down his angry looking face but not even trying to get up. He didn't say a word, didn't try to stop Jensen when the man stepped over him to grab Jared by the wrist and pull him out the door. It was almost surreal, and Jared only noticed that they were outside when his naked feet hit the cold gravel of the walkway out. Then he flinched looking down.
For a second he stopped, wondering why he was standing on cold pebbles with wet, bare feet, then he could feel the hand around his wrist tighten and stumbled back into walking when Jensen pulled him along. The cold air of the fresh night woke him up a little, and he coughed to get his voice back.
“Where- Where are we going?”
“You will stay at my house for the night. I don't trust him until he's sobered up,” Jensen said with a cool finality that made all protests leave Jared immediately.
“He never sobers up,” Jared admitted with a small voice.
“I guess then you'll just have to stay longer.”
“O- Okay,” he answered, not really sure what he was agreeing to in the first place.
Jared walked along, hopping from one foot to the other when he stepped onto a twig or a sharp stone. Thankfully the camp wasn't very widely spread out, and it only took two minutes to get to Jensen's small wooden cabin. Once inside, Jared just stood there... waiting.
“Sit down, Jared.” He flinched when Jensen took him by the shoulders to push him towards a short, ragged looking couch, and Jensen stopped immediately. “What- Are you scared of me?”
He flopped down on the sofa, feeling a spring dig into his left thigh. There was no use in denying it, so he simply nodded. Jensen had just beaten his dad to a bloody pulp. Of course Jared was scared. He was surprised to see Jensen look sad rather than angry about that admission.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Jay. I just... I couldn't let him hurt you.”
With that the man turned away walking away with silent steps. Jared could hear water running before Jensen reappeared with a wet towel.
“You got blood on your face,” he said handing Jared the white cloth.
“You got blood on your hands,” Jared answered feeling a little numb inside. But there was a different feeling in there too, a flutter in his stomach, a weird kind of relief, because he was out of that house if only for a night.
Jensen nodded, looking at his split knuckles while Jared dabbed away on a split eyebrow, only then noticing the sting of pain around his eye socket and the taste of blood on his mouth. He wondered if his dad felt the same kind of pain, and somehow it made a small smile break out on his lips.
“Why don't you go to sleep? The couch isn't exactly comfortable but you look exhausted.”
Jared looked up when he found a blanket shoved at him. He had expected questions or snide comments, reprimand for not fighting back... anything. He had been wrong. Nodding gratefully, Jared pulled his cold feet up onto the couch and wrapped the blanket around himself. It didn't take more than a minute before he fell asleep.
- -
“Jensen!”
Jared awoke with a start, rolling off the side of the couch with a thump. He untangled himself from the blanket with a few frantic kicks before realizing where he was. Then the memory of what had happened the night before returned to him, and a cold fist curled in his stomach.
He got to his feet and padded to the door looking out the open window next to it apprehensively. Jensen was standing only a few yards away from the front door. Whatever he had been doing a few seconds ago was forgotten as he was approached by someone out of Jared's view. Jared didn't move to see who it was, afraid to be noticed.
There were a few people he really didn't need to see face to face, and one of them was Clay. The man's voice was more than recognizable to Jared after the years and years of speeches he had been forced to witness. So Jared stopped, leaned against the door of the cabin from the inside, out of sight and waiting for their fearless leader to go back to hating humanity from his favorite spot in the community hall.
He didn't mean to listen in, but obviously talking quietly was not one of Clay's strong points. “Padalecki put in a complaint about you.”
Jared's spine went straight as an arrow the moment he heard his family name, and the previous intention to simply wait was replaced by the need to really listen. This couldn't be good.
Jensen's voice was less booming than Clay's but his low chuckle could still be heard well enough by someone eavesdropping. “Is that so?”
“He doesn't appreciate you questioning the way he educates his son,” Clay said, with a voice that was too steady and too cheerful, making Jared's spine tingle with cold.
“Is that what he calls it? Education?”
“It's none of your business, Jensen.”
“He was smacking the kid around, and Jared didn't even try to defend himself!” Jensen's words were sharp and fast, enunciation too precise, betraying anger and something fierce.
“As I said, it's not your business or anybody else's for that matter. And you had no right to smack his face in like that.”
“Yes it is my business,” Jensen interjected, with a growl that made Jared's breath hitch. “That boy is one of us. He's a brother, and I don't know about you, but I protect my brothers. There are enough enemy forces to fight against. We need to at least stand together with our own kind, Clay.”
Jared's mouth went dry. He had never been defended by anybody, since his dad joined the community of the Brothers... not until last night.
Clay snorted loudly, chuckling, and it sounded like old grease, making Jared feel filthy just from the sound penetrating his ears. “That boy isn't brotherhood material, Jensen.”
“How do you know? He's not a bad kid. But he's scared, and he doesn't trust any of you, and why the fuck should he when you let him be mistreated like that, huh?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“Because I am the only fucking person in this camp who actually went to the trouble of getting to know Jared. You're throwing away the chance of having a good boy grow into a better man. But if that drunkard father of his is allowed to go on like that, the kid will be lost. To the cause and to himself.”
“I don't have time to babysit one lost little boy, Jensen.”
“And I don't ask you to. Just let me do what I think is right. He needed a friend, and that's what I am.”
“This isn't summer camp.”
“No. But he's just a kid, Clay.”
There was silence for a while, and Jared frowned, wondering what was going on between the two men who were discussing his life. It made him a little angry that they could just chat about the way he was treated by everybody, like it was the weather. But then he would hear the edge in Jensen's voice and feel the anger the man was holding back, and his own anger would evaporate.
“Fine. You can write in each other's diaries for all I care. If you get the kid to stop being such a pussy, it may be worth the trouble... I'll talk to Padalecki.”
Jared knew that his father wouldn't like it, and he could feel his skin tingling with the anticipation of the man's rage.
“I'm going hunting tomorrow. I'll take Jared with me. The kid can use some air and something to shoot.”
“Whatever. But he's a lousy shot. Try not to get killed by accident when he's fucking up again.”
There were footsteps audible, and Jared dared sneaking a peak through the window once more to see Clay walking away in the direction of the community hall and his first - or maybe third - beer of the day.
“You know, eavesdropping can get people in trouble, Jay.”
Jared stepped back, eyes snapping to a smirking Jensen who was placing a piece of wood on the short stump of a tree trunk before picking up an axe and chopping it in two with a single blow. He had obviously been caught spying, so he saw no other option but open the cabin door and walk outside to be reprimanded.
“I- I'm sorry, Jensen, I just... I swear, I didn't mean to spy on you or anything.”
Another piece of wood was cut in two with the swoosh of the axe and the chop of the blade. Jensen sighed dropping the axe onto the chopping block to leave it stuck there before walking towards Jared who was fidgeting on his spot by the door.
“Don't worry about it. We were talking about you after all.” He slapped his hand over Jared's shoulder with a smile, head tilting sideways. “How much did you hear?”
“Everything”, Jared said blushing, dropping his head in embarrassment. “Thanks for standing up for me.”
“Somebody has to, and obviously everybody around here is too busy with their hands down their own pants to give a shit.”
It was a rude and disrespectful comment that would get Jensen into so much trouble should anybody hear it, but all Jared could do was burst into laughter at the amount of guts Jensen had. The man only grinned at Jared shrugging before looping his hand behind the teen's neck and pulling him back inside.
“I heard you're a terrible shot. I intend to change that if you accept my invitation to go hunting.”
Jared nodded with a smile on his face. He didn't care for hunting or shooting, but if he got to get out of this stupid camp and get to spend time with Jensen, he would do his best to be a good student.
- -
“Why were you there last night?”
It had taken Jared half an hour of quietly eating the breakfast Jensen put in front of his nose before he'd mustered up the guts to ask that question. He had thought of a lot of explanations. But none had made sense in his mind.
Jensen looked at him with a blank expression for a moment, before the question seemed to reach his higher cortex. “I had something I wanted to give you.”
Jared watched the man get up and walk towards the door where an indistinct white bag was leaning against the wall. Jensen picked it up walking back to Jared with a sheepish smile before dumping the whole bag onto Jared's lap. The teen frowned, pushing away his almost empty plate before carefully opening the white plastic to peer inside. A smile spread across his face when he found an innocent selection of books. Pulling them out one by one, he found them to be a diverse mixture of novels and non-fiction.
“Where'd you get these?”
Jensen laughed, and it made Jared bite his lower lip, because he wasn't used to something sounding so good. “As hard as it may be to believe, I bought them. But I didn't know what you liked, so I tried to get a bit of everything.”
There was definitely a bit of everything in that bag, and Jared saw at least three books that his dad would not approve of him having. Maybe Jensen hadn't paid close attention to what he was buying... yeah, that must be it. But Jared was not going to point that out to him. Jensen was nicer to him than anyone he'd known since moving into the Brotherhood camp, and Jared would not jeopardize that.
“Thanks. These are great.” And they were, even though he'd have to hide some of them under his mattress.
- -
It was a sunny day, and Jared wondered how Jensen had managed to get his things while he was taking a shower at Jensen's cabin. Hopefully Jared's father had been out at the community house for a drink, or Jared could only imagine the ugly scene that had happened. But if anything unpleasant had gone down there, Jensen gave no indication of it as he handed Jared his boots and jacket.
“Couldn't let you trudge through the woods on bare feet, could I?” the man simply said with a grin as Jared eyed him warily.
It didn't take long for them to pack up the things Jensen deemed necessary and head out into the sunshine of a late summer morning. Jared adjusted his pace to fit Jensen's and they kept a decent hiking speed that saw them across the hillside and in the next valley by noon. It was a quiet walk and Jared appreciated the silent company and the simple-mindedness of their activity. It was calm, and, while he could let his mind wander, every step away from that place made his shoulders feel less weighed down.
They stopped earlier than expected, and Jared looked around questioningly as Jensen sat down his pack. “Why are we stopping already?”
“Let's take a break. This isn't a race.”
Jared nodded, sitting down on a slate of stone standing out of the mossy ground. He broke out his water bottle and took a sip as he looked up to see the leaves of the trees around them swing and shiver in a light breeze.
“How's your head?” Jensen asked. For a moment Jared frowned, surprised at the non-sequitur question, but as he ran his fingers through the fringe hanging into his eyes, he flinched. There were the scabbed up remains of a smaller wound along his hairline, and it took Jared a moment to remember where he got it. He didn't know which hit exactly had caused it, but it didn't really matter.
“It's fine. It only hurts when I touch it,” he answered looking down at his hands where they clutched the bottle. He hadn't even looked into the mirror for the last two days and suddenly found himself wondering if he had any other bruises, maybe a black eye too. His side had still felt a little tender during the walk, and suddenly Jared understood why Jensen was taking an early break. It was in consideration of Jared's possible injuries. He could feel his face flush at the realization.
“Good. Are you up for some target practice then?”
Grateful that Jensen was taking his dismissal of his injuries at face value, Jared nodded quickly. “Sure.”
- -
People don't learn to be an amazing shot in a day, and by the end of their target practice, Jared was maybe an alright shot, decent at best, and all of that only under strict supervision, with an unmoving target and a lot of calm preparation. Still Jensen praised him for every time he did a little better than before. It was almost embarrassing, but Jared enjoyed it more than he thought he would.
“You're not as hopeless as they made it sound,” Jensen commented ruffling Jared's hair with a dusty hand. The teen shot him a look that was half appreciative and half annoyed before going about reloading his rifle.
“For a guy who never cared to learn how to shoot properly, you sure know how to handle a gun.”
Jared shrugged as he slipped the bullets into place. “Dad's had me take care of his weapons for years.”
At the mention of Jared's father, Jensen's face grew noticeably colder. An uneasy silence fell across the two men, and Jared ducked his head to concentrate on the rifle rather than the tension that started to build up suddenly.
“Was he always like that?”
It was a simple question, but Jared hadn't expected such a direct approach even from Jensen, so he hesitated for a long moment. He considered playing dumb as if he hadn't understood the question, but they both knew that he had. In the end he sighed as he shouldered his reloaded rifle.
“No... Just the last few years.” Sometimes Jared wondered if it would be easier for him when things had always been that way, and there was no happier life before that he could compare his current one with. But then he'd scold himself for thinking stupid stuff like that.
Jensen nodded, and Jared got the feeling that the man was giving him the opportunity to talk about it in his own time. Instead, Jared asked his own question.
“Why did you get so mad yesterday? The others don't care. Why would you?” He bit his lip wondering if it was a good idea to question Jensen's motives when he was the only person looking out for him. What if Jensen didn't have an answer, instead realizing that there was no reason to stand up for Jared.
The older man was quiet for a long time, crouching down to tie his boot. Maybe he was buying time while he tried to consider an answer... or maybe he hoped Jared didn't expect an answer any more after the quiet stretched out for too long. When he stood back up and looked at Jared, the youth was actually surprised as Jensen answered after all.
“You're not the only one with an asshole family, Jared. It's probably none of my business. But I know what it's like.” They looked at each other quietly for a few long seconds, and Jared believed him. The side of Jensen's mouth twitched into the shadow of a smirk. “Maybe that's why. I'm not blind, and I knew you needed a friend. Didn't seem to have one though, so... here I am.” Jensen shrugged. “Seeing you and your dad yesterday made me snap. It wasn't the best way to handle this but, damn, he deserved every punch. I'm not gonna apologize for that.”
“I don't want you to.” Jared sniffed, trying to hide the emotions Jensen's little speech shook lose inside of him. “Thanks.”
“Don't sweat it.”
Jensen's nonchalant answer made Jared a little more brave. “So... Your father was like that too?”
“Sometimes.” The answer was curt and not very elaborate. Obviously Jensen didn't want to share details. Jared knew the feeling. He just had one more question.
“How'd you make it stop?”
Green eyes suddenly turned sharp, and a tingle went down Jared's spine as they stared at Jared. “I got fed up with it. Graduated High School, broke his nose and joined the Army.”
“You... You hit him?”
Nodding, Jensen grabbed his backpack from the ground sliding it back onto his shoulders. “First and only time.” The spell of honesty was broken when Jensen started walking again. “Let's go. We still got lots of ground to cover.”
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