Curtain Call 3/~8
Title: Curtain Call 3/~8
Author:
insane_songbird
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Jensen/Tom (yeah, I know, it’ll pass though),
Rating: R (might change, not sure)
Words: ~4200
Warnings: singing and dancing, language, blood
Disclaimer: Everyone is their own person. It’s all a lie. Any play or musical mentioned belongs to it's creator(s) and their contract holders but most definitely not me. Earning money with it? Don’t make me laugh!
Summary: Jensen has worked as an actor and dancer for the same musical company for a few years already. As young dancer Jared is hired, Jensen takes him under his wing and encourages him to want more than just holding a spear. But when the next shows roll around, Jensen is hit by fate and Jared takes over his part. Wary and resentful Jensen starts the new season. But everything is put to the test, as the two of them need to work together to see the new play kick off.
Master Post
Thanks to candygramme for the awesome betaing as well as Yas and Cat for the great handholding.
A/N: This one is a little emotional... it'll get better eventually, I hope *lol*
previous part
Part Three
Jared sat down on the white, gleaming lid of the toilet bowl, trying to get away from the memories that flooded his mind.
Jensen grinned at Jared as they walked to the stage, long past the end of rehearsals, dangling the keys Jeff had lent him between his fingers, jingling them quietly. Jared followed him silently, evening his breathing so he wouldn’t get lightheaded at the thought of singing for Jensen in a few minutes. It made his stomach churn with nervousness, and his heart thump with excitement.
When they reached the side of the stage, Jensen strolled to the piano and opened the lid silently as he slid onto the pianist’s stool. “Do you need to warm up before we start, or did you do that already?”
Jared felt his ears grow bright pink as he saw Jensen’s green eyes gaze at him across the polished black wood of the instrument. “I- uh…” He had sung a little at home to decide which songs to bring, but he wasn’t really warmed up any more after the walk through town.
“Let’s just sing a few simple figures… I need to warm up too, if I want to show you anything.” The sparkle in Jensen’s eyes made Jared squirm a little. He blushed some more, thankful that Jensen had offered him an easy way out - they both knew he had.
Jensen’s warm baritone washed over Jared, and he went along, the figures flowing freely as he concentrated on Jensen’s voice above his own.
When Jensen was satisfied, he snatched Jared’s music from where he had placed it on the piano and examined the first song, testing the cords and arrangement with careful fingers. Jensen wasn’t too bad a pianist. He was far from being a pro, but he could play enough of the music to support Jared as he sang. Jared knew he could do better. But he tried his best while his knees were shaking from the anticipation of Jensen’s judgment.
When he was done, Jared had tried every trick. He had held his shoulders wide with all the muscle he had, had tilted his head forwards and made that ‘surprised’-look that made the sinuses in the skull resonate better, he had opened his throat as well as he could and planted his feet exactly at the width of his hips.
When the song was over Jensen ended with the dominant cord, leaving the last few embellishments to the real pianists. His fingers lingered on the keys for another second before he looked up to Jared, smiling lightly. “That was nice.”
“Nice?” Nice was bad. His sister used to say that nice was fucked’s little sister. Nobody wanted to be remembered as ‘nice’. Nice was boring, it was unexciting and maybe not bad but most certainly not good either.
Jensen’s well tempered laughter brought Jared back to the thing at hand. “You don’t have to look at me like I just kicked your dog. What is it, Jared?”
“I’m- It was NICE?”
“Yes, Jared.”
“But?” Jared swallowed. He was afraid that Jensen didn’t want to crush him and therefore went for ‘nice’ but actually thought that Jared’s talent was rather limited and his voice wasn’t anything special.
Jensen sighed and grabbed Jared’s wrist pulling him down onto the piano seat which was broad enough for two. Jared flopped down heavily, slightly startled by the move.
“But you’re trying to hard, Jared. Your technique is alright and you know the notes and the lyrics… but it’s not you I hear there. You are overworking this. What I heard was a nice performance but it sounded like you were trying to sound too much like you think it should be sung. I don’t wanna hear another Pavarotti or Terrence Mann. Of course they are great singers. But it’s been done. You need to sing like yourself and not like someone else.”
Jared frowned chewing his lower lip. “But I just tried to make it perfect.”
Jensen ruffled his hair with a soft laugh. It brought Jared’s already weak balance off kilter even more. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Jared. Perfect is boring. Make it edgy… Make it more Jared. Do I make any sense to you at all?”
Weirdly enough he did. Jared nodded hesitantly, and Jensen’s face lit up in a smile.
“Great, then try it again but stop thinking while singing. Just let it out. Kick my ass for criticizing you… and try to lessen that tension a little. Just stand straight and use your stomach. That’s all you need to care about.”
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Jared stared at his hands, fingers trembling quietly. The only sound was his sniffing reverberating loudly around the tiled walls of the men’s room as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
He slapped his own thigh in frustration. This emotional instability had to stop. Jared didn’t know how long he could go on like this. He had to stop or risk breaking something indefinitely. Something that might not mend again.
He blinked a few times, clearing his vision of unshed tears and took a deep breath as he made a decision. Rising from the toilet lid, he exited the stall and checked his appearance in the mirror over the sink. He looked dreadful, bags beneath his eyes and a strained look on his face. Of course he could always blame it onto his extra work load and the stress of taking over from Jensen. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Too bad.
He took a couple of deep, reviving breaths and nodded to himself. There was only one thing he could do to get this over with. Purposeful steps carried him out of the seclusion of the bathroom. Those steps faltered when he found Misha facing him outside, a dangerously neutral look on his face.
“You dropped something.” The smaller dancer held out the newspaper Jared had been reading, still folded up so that their review was displayed for the unheeding eye.
“Thanks.” Jared grabbed the paper and rolled it up, covering the offending article.
“Do I need to ask?” The look Misha gave him said more than Jared wanted to hear. Misha knew that this was about Jensen. The guy was way too clever to be a professional dancer.
“No,” Jared whispered. The silence between them stretched for several moments, Misha standing in front of Jared with a decidedly nonchalant posture, not pushing, not forcing. Finally Jared sighed and dropped his head, unable to stare back into that knowing gaze. “I have to visit him, Misha.”
The dark haired man nodded. “Yeah, you should.”
A nervous tongue flicked over Jared’s lips, trying to wet the painfully dry and sticky skin. A trickle of sweat had gathered on his upper lip unnoticed, and he tasted salt.
“Do you want me to go with you, Jay?” The cast had decided not to overwhelm Jensen with visits, due to his still rather delicate condition and had sent Jeff and Samantha to extend their well wishes. They had visited twice this week, and whenever the two of them returned - having taken an extended lunch break for this - Jeff was eerily quiet and gruff while Samantha’s lips were pinched, and her eyes were red. It made Jared’s stomach churn painfully.
“No, I’ll be fine.” If he was going to have a nervous breakdown, he’d prefer to not have any colleagues around, or friends for that matter.
“You sure about that? I could drive you.”
Jared bit the inside of his cheek to restrain himself from telling Misha that he wanted to wallow in his self pity and cry like a girl by himself. If he voiced this, he’d never be left alone for this visit, and it was going to be hard enough without anybody breathing down his neck. “Thanks, but I think walking would do me some good to get my head straight before I go in there.”
“If you think so.” Misha’s eyes added ‘You have my cell phone number if you need anything’ clearly.
Jared nodded, trading friendly shoulder slaps with a still knowing looking Misha and headed off to actually do his job.
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Jared’s sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor covering the hospital corridors. His breathing was strained as though he was running a marathon rather than walking only a few blocks - walking somewhat slowly actually since Jared had to berate himself repeatedly about stalling - in the warm evening breeze.
His throat was parched, and he could swear his left eyelid twitched every now and again when the anxiety was too much for his nervous system. He expected to be an utter mess by the time he found Jensen’s hospital room, if he wasn’t already.
He supposed he should have asked Jeffrey for the exact room number, but then really he couldn’t. What if he wouldn’t be able to follow through with it? Or worse, what if Jeffrey told him it was a bad idea, especially since the company had decided to give Jensen some time to recuperate before jumping on him like a hoard of overzealous puppies. Jared still hoped that he was more than just one of many, and that Jensen would want to see him.
“Jared!” He nearly tripped over his own feet at the unexpected calling of his name, keeping his balance - and therefore his dignity - by inches. For the fragment of a second he hoped it was Jensen - that he was up and about, well enough already to be found on the hospital corridors. But his mind reprimanded him for that instantly. It couldn’t be Jensen. Jensen’s voice had haunted Jared’s every night lately, and this was most definitely not that voice. Jared was rather sure that the sound of Jensen speaking would make his knees give out in a second.
He turned to cringe inwardly at the sight of Tom hastily closing in on him in the suddenly much too small corridor. Jared was really having a hard time with Tom lately. He could, of course, understand that the other man was going through hell after nearly losing someone he loved, but he really was unbearable of late. Jared was aware that he should be thankful to see Tom at the hospital and know that Jensen had someone to look out for him if he couldn’t do so himself, but the selfish part of Jared’s mind wanted nothing more than to see Tom gone. For a moment Jared wanted to hit himself for being such a bastard.
“Tom, hey!”
The look on the other man’s face was anything but reassuring, and Jared resisted the urge for a hasty retreat.
“What are you doing here, Padalecki?” There was no preamble, no warning to the venom in Tom’s voice.
“I… I wanted to visit…” Damn his stuttering, but he really was a little taken aback by the harshness of Tom’s words.
“What? Are you stupid or don’t you just give a shit?”
Jared wanted to protest. Of course he gave a shit. He cared with all he had. What was Tom talking about? He didn’t even need to ask, because Tom had answered his question already. “Do you REALLY think Jensen would want to see YOU of all people right now.”
Well, it had been his hope to be honest… “He’s my friend, and I wanted to see how he was doing.” Jared was rather thankful to have regained some coherency of speech.
Tom actually had the audacity to snort. “You want to know how he’s doing? Well, I’ll tell you! He was stabbed, he nearly died twice, and he’s still hooked up on tubes everywhere and restricted to a bed in an empty hospital room. He needs help with everything, and he HATES it.”
Jared’s heart sank some more at hearing his fears come true. Tom continued without taking in Jared’s broken expression. “He worked his ass off to get that job with Morgan’s. He put his heart into that part, and now not only does he need help going to the bathroom, but he also has to live down someone else taking what was supposed to be HIS. You took away all he worked for this season.”
Jared felt his legs buckle at the cruel words. He was lucky enough to have backed towards the wall under Tom’s constant aggression, and it was the only reason why he didn’t fall to his knees as his back rooted him to the spot. “But- But I had to step in… I- he knew that. I had to… there- there was no other way.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt him, and maybe it’s not reasonable but, dammit, he has the right to be unreasonable right now.”
Jared nodded numbly. Of course Jensen had that right. “I need to speak to him. I have to apologize.”
“No.” Tom stalked closer to Jared, keeping him pinned to the wall with a gaze that spoke of sheer loathing. “The doctors have struggled with regulating his blood pressure all week. Every time he talks about the attack, or the show… or YOU, it spikes again. I can’t let you endanger his health. I won’t.”
Jared wanted to die right there, wanted to topple over useless and just be relieved from this nightmare that had gripped his life. He was out on the street and down two blocks before he even realized he was running. Jensen hated him; the very thought of him endangered Jensen’s life. Oh God.
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Jared sat on the floor of his room wiping his eyes and deciding not to cry ever again in his life. Of course, his mind’s decisions didn’t always survived his body’s veto. Damn feelings! He felt pathetic for letting Tom’s words get to him like this, and he wanted to be angry, to scream in his face that what he’d said was not true. But what if it was? What if Jensen really thought Jared had ruined everything? He didn’t know if he could live with that thought.
He sniffed and heaved himself to his feet, taking a deep breath that left his body with a sigh. He had a show to play. Actually, he had a whole season of shows to do. This was the moment that Jared decided to give it his all. Every performance would be played as if it were his last. It was the only thing that could take his mind off things. During high school he had found out that when on stage the problems of Jared Padalecki retreated, and the person he was playing took over. It was a heady feeling for a self-conscious teenager, and this was the closest he’d felt to the hormonal struggles of his adolescence since he left Texas.
He would put his heart into the task at hand and forget the maybes, and the pain of not knowing what to do about the things he had no hand in anymore. If his heart would break whenever he played Jensen’s part - because to him it would always be Jensen’s part - he would swallow it and remember the proud smile his friend had given him when Jared became his understudy. In Jared’s mind, Jensen would always be his friend, even if he might have nothing but contempt for him right now.
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Exhaustion was a good thing. To Jared it was a friend who helped him through many a day. It could silence his mind and stop the painful thumping of his heart. When exhausted, Jared could finally sleep - even had to sleep. Sleep was good, it was needed. So he worked hard and long, indulging in the fact that his job was physically straining and asked for the long hours he needed, and if they weren’t enough then Jared would go for a run after work, until his muscles stung, and his head swam from fatigue. If the next morning he would wake up way too early with tear streaks on his face he didn’t acknowledge it.
Jeff was pleased with Jared’s new found workaholic mentality, telling him only on rare occasions to tune it down a little and maybe kick back a little. Jared nodded and promised he would, but to be honest that was a lie. If he could lie to himself, tell his heart that everything was fine, then lying to Jeff didn’t make a big difference, did it?
He had managed to keep himself occupied for ten days now, had managed to empty his mind of the pain that threatened to break his soul irreparably.
This day he had pounded the pavement for at least forty-five minutes before heading back home in the warm evening air. He was done and glad about it, wishing only to fall into bed and not get up for the next twelve hours. If work hadn’t demanded that he be sharp every morning and several evenings he might have succumbed to drinking. But his drug of choice was sweat.
He dragged his feet and felt the beads of sweat running down his temples and neck as he mounted the stairs to his apartment, pushing the key into the lock, letting himself in and hitting the shower instantly. He didn’t notice something was different from his normal routine, until he was halfway to his room again, dressed in pajama bottoms and a flimsy shirt, hair still wet and sticking up in all directions. He had jerked off as well - some needs even exhaustion couldn’t kill - and he felt just a little more of a bastard for thinking of green eyes while doing it.
He wasn’t prepared to find Chad standing outside his room, arms crossed and looking determined. Jared frowned at him and rubbed his eyes warily. “What’s up, man?”
“Jay, we need to talk.”
“’Bout what?” He wanted to get to sleep, before his mind decided to jump start again.
“About what the hell you’re doing to yourself lately.” The sad look on Chad’s face made Jared’s insides cringe. Shit.
“What are you talking about?” He tried to push by his roommate, which should normally not have been a problem. But an exhausted Jared really wasn’t up to competing with Chad’s wrestling skills. So after a moment he gave up and turned away making a beeline for the couch. He could sleep there if need be.
He was even more startled when he saw who else was occupying the soft cushions of their small living room couch. That was the moment real dread entered Jared’s groggy mind. It was most certainly not a good thing when Misha, Lauren and Sophia stared back at him from his beloved couch, and he didn’t remember inviting them over.
“What are you doing here?”
Misha sighed and stood up, crossing the room towards him. “We are here to help Chad bang some reason into your stubborn head already.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re worried!” This was Sophia, and Jared found his head spinning with the effort of snapping his attention from one person to another so quickly.
“There’s nothing to be worried about, guys.”
A snort made the circle of communication complete, and Lauren seemed to be half disgusted and half amused. “Yeah. because you didn’t behave like a zombie for nearly two weeks now.”
“I-“ Jared’s mouth opened and closed as he desperately tried to think of a retort to that. What was he supposed to say?
“Don’t you dare deny it, man. You are completely freaked!” when did Chad get so much insight into a persons psyche?
Misha took over the cue as if they had rehearsed it earlier. If Chad were an actor, and not working in a call center, Jared might even have considered that option. “And you try to hide it but we all see it. You are working yourself to death, even if it’s uncalled for.”
“And you are avoiding any conversations that aren’t just about the weather like the plague”, Sophia joined in.
Jared shrank back and tried to escape the room, but a stern looking Lauren - and dude, she could be really scary - stood in his way, arms crossed and face angry.
“Guys, I really don’t appreciate you ganging up on me. I’m fine.”
“’Fine’ my ass, Padalecki!” Jared always knew Lauren was one for the more colorful language.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Misha had already grabbed his shoulders and started navigating him towards the couch where Jared flopped down, the two girls took up their positions one on each side of him while Misha and Chad sat down on the coffee table facing him.
“Spill it, Jay.” Chad’s look was as serious as it had ever been, and Jared felt the fear in the back of his mind stir towards the edge of panic. He was silent, teeth bothering his lower lip, and he saw Misha heave a silent sigh once more. Before leaning forward tentatively.
“Jared, I know you went to see Jensen. It is obvious that something happened there, and we thought if we let you work through it you’d be fine. But it’s obvious that your coping strategies are failing. Tell us what happened.”
Jared stared at him for a second. Was he a fucking shrink as well as a dancer now? He thought of trying to run, but he knew they would chain him to the couch if need be. So he closed his eyes and wished for a quick and silent death, if only things were that easy! It was a long while before he started speaking. “I didn’t… I mean, I did go, but- but I didn’t see him.” And finally Jared Padalecki broke. He could feel hot tears sting his eyes and rush down his cheeks as he remembered his interaction with Tom. He recounted Tom’s words that were were burned into his mind like it was yesterday and let the pain engulf him, swallowing him whole.
“That goddamn fucking bastard!”, was the first sound any of his friends made, after he finished his tale with the cowardly retreat and dropped his head onto his hands, hiding his shame ineffectually. It was Sophia, and if Jared had an ounce of strength left he’d wonder about that, because it was such a Lauren thing to say.
“C’mon, Jared. You didn’t really believe that bullshit!” Okay, so maybe this was the Lauren thing to say, and Jared could practically hear Misha rolling his eyes.
“Jay, I don’t think it’s true.”
He sniffed and rubbed his face mumbling “But what if…” weakly.
“Then you’d think Jensen had brain injury, instead of abdominal wounds.” Thank you Lauren, what a great way to make him feel better. Tact had never been her strong suit. Maybe, actually the lack thereof was.
“Jared.” There was a long pause after Misha said his name, and Jared finally looked up through blurry eyes. The other dancer skidded slightly forward on the table and put his hand on Jared’s arm reassuringly. “You really need to visit him. If those things are true, he should tell you so himself. Maybe he just needs to vent or something. Give him that chance. You know the guy, we all do. He’s a decent person, and he’s not stupid. Maybe he’s frustrated and hurt, and, hell, he has every right to be that way, but that only means he needs his friends even more than ever, and you are more of a friend to him than any of us. Please don’t be selfish.”
“And Tom’s full of bullshit, anyway.” Maybe Chad and Lauren should team up and go to a self-aid group for Tourette’s syndrome…
“But if he… I don’t know if I can take it.”
He saw Chad’s face fall and heard a low sigh to his side. Lauren gazed at him intensely. “Shit, you really love the guy.”
He did, and there was no denying it anymore. He loved Jensen, and it hurt like hell. Tears spilled again, and out of all the people there, he found himself sobbing into Lauren’s shoulder.
Sofia patted his back timidly. “Just be there, Jay. You have to try.”
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Jared nearly choked when he spoke to the nurse. “Jared Padalecki for Jensen Ackles, please.”
Misha had made sure to get the room number from Jeffrey. He told Jared that it was obvious that Jensen was doing a lot better. Well it was already some weeks since the attack, but Jared had tried to ignore all news, until his meltdown two days earlier.
“One moment please.” The nurse left her station, and Jared found himself scraping his feet nervously. He had to fight the urge to run and hide and cry. But he was sick of crying, and so his fingers drummed on the desk impatiently as he shut out all the worst-case scenarios that ran through his head, each one more ridiculous than its predecessor.
He held back a sigh of relief as the nurse returned shortly after leaving him to his own thoughts.
“I’m very sorry, but Mr. Ackles is no longer being treated here. He was relocated to a Texan hospital this morning… something about moving closer to where his family could support his rehabilitation, I think.”
Jared wanted to scream.
...next part...
So, what do you think guys? I want some FEEDBACK please!!! PLEASE!
Author:
insane_songbird
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Jensen/Tom (yeah, I know, it’ll pass though),
Rating: R (might change, not sure)
Words: ~4200
Warnings: singing and dancing, language, blood
Disclaimer: Everyone is their own person. It’s all a lie. Any play or musical mentioned belongs to it's creator(s) and their contract holders but most definitely not me. Earning money with it? Don’t make me laugh!
Summary: Jensen has worked as an actor and dancer for the same musical company for a few years already. As young dancer Jared is hired, Jensen takes him under his wing and encourages him to want more than just holding a spear. But when the next shows roll around, Jensen is hit by fate and Jared takes over his part. Wary and resentful Jensen starts the new season. But everything is put to the test, as the two of them need to work together to see the new play kick off.
Master Post
Thanks to candygramme for the awesome betaing as well as Yas and Cat for the great handholding.
A/N: This one is a little emotional... it'll get better eventually, I hope *lol*
previous part
Part Three
Jared sat down on the white, gleaming lid of the toilet bowl, trying to get away from the memories that flooded his mind.
Jensen grinned at Jared as they walked to the stage, long past the end of rehearsals, dangling the keys Jeff had lent him between his fingers, jingling them quietly. Jared followed him silently, evening his breathing so he wouldn’t get lightheaded at the thought of singing for Jensen in a few minutes. It made his stomach churn with nervousness, and his heart thump with excitement.
When they reached the side of the stage, Jensen strolled to the piano and opened the lid silently as he slid onto the pianist’s stool. “Do you need to warm up before we start, or did you do that already?”
Jared felt his ears grow bright pink as he saw Jensen’s green eyes gaze at him across the polished black wood of the instrument. “I- uh…” He had sung a little at home to decide which songs to bring, but he wasn’t really warmed up any more after the walk through town.
“Let’s just sing a few simple figures… I need to warm up too, if I want to show you anything.” The sparkle in Jensen’s eyes made Jared squirm a little. He blushed some more, thankful that Jensen had offered him an easy way out - they both knew he had.
Jensen’s warm baritone washed over Jared, and he went along, the figures flowing freely as he concentrated on Jensen’s voice above his own.
When Jensen was satisfied, he snatched Jared’s music from where he had placed it on the piano and examined the first song, testing the cords and arrangement with careful fingers. Jensen wasn’t too bad a pianist. He was far from being a pro, but he could play enough of the music to support Jared as he sang. Jared knew he could do better. But he tried his best while his knees were shaking from the anticipation of Jensen’s judgment.
When he was done, Jared had tried every trick. He had held his shoulders wide with all the muscle he had, had tilted his head forwards and made that ‘surprised’-look that made the sinuses in the skull resonate better, he had opened his throat as well as he could and planted his feet exactly at the width of his hips.
When the song was over Jensen ended with the dominant cord, leaving the last few embellishments to the real pianists. His fingers lingered on the keys for another second before he looked up to Jared, smiling lightly. “That was nice.”
“Nice?” Nice was bad. His sister used to say that nice was fucked’s little sister. Nobody wanted to be remembered as ‘nice’. Nice was boring, it was unexciting and maybe not bad but most certainly not good either.
Jensen’s well tempered laughter brought Jared back to the thing at hand. “You don’t have to look at me like I just kicked your dog. What is it, Jared?”
“I’m- It was NICE?”
“Yes, Jared.”
“But?” Jared swallowed. He was afraid that Jensen didn’t want to crush him and therefore went for ‘nice’ but actually thought that Jared’s talent was rather limited and his voice wasn’t anything special.
Jensen sighed and grabbed Jared’s wrist pulling him down onto the piano seat which was broad enough for two. Jared flopped down heavily, slightly startled by the move.
“But you’re trying to hard, Jared. Your technique is alright and you know the notes and the lyrics… but it’s not you I hear there. You are overworking this. What I heard was a nice performance but it sounded like you were trying to sound too much like you think it should be sung. I don’t wanna hear another Pavarotti or Terrence Mann. Of course they are great singers. But it’s been done. You need to sing like yourself and not like someone else.”
Jared frowned chewing his lower lip. “But I just tried to make it perfect.”
Jensen ruffled his hair with a soft laugh. It brought Jared’s already weak balance off kilter even more. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Jared. Perfect is boring. Make it edgy… Make it more Jared. Do I make any sense to you at all?”
Weirdly enough he did. Jared nodded hesitantly, and Jensen’s face lit up in a smile.
“Great, then try it again but stop thinking while singing. Just let it out. Kick my ass for criticizing you… and try to lessen that tension a little. Just stand straight and use your stomach. That’s all you need to care about.”
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Jared stared at his hands, fingers trembling quietly. The only sound was his sniffing reverberating loudly around the tiled walls of the men’s room as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
He slapped his own thigh in frustration. This emotional instability had to stop. Jared didn’t know how long he could go on like this. He had to stop or risk breaking something indefinitely. Something that might not mend again.
He blinked a few times, clearing his vision of unshed tears and took a deep breath as he made a decision. Rising from the toilet lid, he exited the stall and checked his appearance in the mirror over the sink. He looked dreadful, bags beneath his eyes and a strained look on his face. Of course he could always blame it onto his extra work load and the stress of taking over from Jensen. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Too bad.
He took a couple of deep, reviving breaths and nodded to himself. There was only one thing he could do to get this over with. Purposeful steps carried him out of the seclusion of the bathroom. Those steps faltered when he found Misha facing him outside, a dangerously neutral look on his face.
“You dropped something.” The smaller dancer held out the newspaper Jared had been reading, still folded up so that their review was displayed for the unheeding eye.
“Thanks.” Jared grabbed the paper and rolled it up, covering the offending article.
“Do I need to ask?” The look Misha gave him said more than Jared wanted to hear. Misha knew that this was about Jensen. The guy was way too clever to be a professional dancer.
“No,” Jared whispered. The silence between them stretched for several moments, Misha standing in front of Jared with a decidedly nonchalant posture, not pushing, not forcing. Finally Jared sighed and dropped his head, unable to stare back into that knowing gaze. “I have to visit him, Misha.”
The dark haired man nodded. “Yeah, you should.”
A nervous tongue flicked over Jared’s lips, trying to wet the painfully dry and sticky skin. A trickle of sweat had gathered on his upper lip unnoticed, and he tasted salt.
“Do you want me to go with you, Jay?” The cast had decided not to overwhelm Jensen with visits, due to his still rather delicate condition and had sent Jeff and Samantha to extend their well wishes. They had visited twice this week, and whenever the two of them returned - having taken an extended lunch break for this - Jeff was eerily quiet and gruff while Samantha’s lips were pinched, and her eyes were red. It made Jared’s stomach churn painfully.
“No, I’ll be fine.” If he was going to have a nervous breakdown, he’d prefer to not have any colleagues around, or friends for that matter.
“You sure about that? I could drive you.”
Jared bit the inside of his cheek to restrain himself from telling Misha that he wanted to wallow in his self pity and cry like a girl by himself. If he voiced this, he’d never be left alone for this visit, and it was going to be hard enough without anybody breathing down his neck. “Thanks, but I think walking would do me some good to get my head straight before I go in there.”
“If you think so.” Misha’s eyes added ‘You have my cell phone number if you need anything’ clearly.
Jared nodded, trading friendly shoulder slaps with a still knowing looking Misha and headed off to actually do his job.
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Jared’s sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor covering the hospital corridors. His breathing was strained as though he was running a marathon rather than walking only a few blocks - walking somewhat slowly actually since Jared had to berate himself repeatedly about stalling - in the warm evening breeze.
His throat was parched, and he could swear his left eyelid twitched every now and again when the anxiety was too much for his nervous system. He expected to be an utter mess by the time he found Jensen’s hospital room, if he wasn’t already.
He supposed he should have asked Jeffrey for the exact room number, but then really he couldn’t. What if he wouldn’t be able to follow through with it? Or worse, what if Jeffrey told him it was a bad idea, especially since the company had decided to give Jensen some time to recuperate before jumping on him like a hoard of overzealous puppies. Jared still hoped that he was more than just one of many, and that Jensen would want to see him.
“Jared!” He nearly tripped over his own feet at the unexpected calling of his name, keeping his balance - and therefore his dignity - by inches. For the fragment of a second he hoped it was Jensen - that he was up and about, well enough already to be found on the hospital corridors. But his mind reprimanded him for that instantly. It couldn’t be Jensen. Jensen’s voice had haunted Jared’s every night lately, and this was most definitely not that voice. Jared was rather sure that the sound of Jensen speaking would make his knees give out in a second.
He turned to cringe inwardly at the sight of Tom hastily closing in on him in the suddenly much too small corridor. Jared was really having a hard time with Tom lately. He could, of course, understand that the other man was going through hell after nearly losing someone he loved, but he really was unbearable of late. Jared was aware that he should be thankful to see Tom at the hospital and know that Jensen had someone to look out for him if he couldn’t do so himself, but the selfish part of Jared’s mind wanted nothing more than to see Tom gone. For a moment Jared wanted to hit himself for being such a bastard.
“Tom, hey!”
The look on the other man’s face was anything but reassuring, and Jared resisted the urge for a hasty retreat.
“What are you doing here, Padalecki?” There was no preamble, no warning to the venom in Tom’s voice.
“I… I wanted to visit…” Damn his stuttering, but he really was a little taken aback by the harshness of Tom’s words.
“What? Are you stupid or don’t you just give a shit?”
Jared wanted to protest. Of course he gave a shit. He cared with all he had. What was Tom talking about? He didn’t even need to ask, because Tom had answered his question already. “Do you REALLY think Jensen would want to see YOU of all people right now.”
Well, it had been his hope to be honest… “He’s my friend, and I wanted to see how he was doing.” Jared was rather thankful to have regained some coherency of speech.
Tom actually had the audacity to snort. “You want to know how he’s doing? Well, I’ll tell you! He was stabbed, he nearly died twice, and he’s still hooked up on tubes everywhere and restricted to a bed in an empty hospital room. He needs help with everything, and he HATES it.”
Jared’s heart sank some more at hearing his fears come true. Tom continued without taking in Jared’s broken expression. “He worked his ass off to get that job with Morgan’s. He put his heart into that part, and now not only does he need help going to the bathroom, but he also has to live down someone else taking what was supposed to be HIS. You took away all he worked for this season.”
Jared felt his legs buckle at the cruel words. He was lucky enough to have backed towards the wall under Tom’s constant aggression, and it was the only reason why he didn’t fall to his knees as his back rooted him to the spot. “But- But I had to step in… I- he knew that. I had to… there- there was no other way.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt him, and maybe it’s not reasonable but, dammit, he has the right to be unreasonable right now.”
Jared nodded numbly. Of course Jensen had that right. “I need to speak to him. I have to apologize.”
“No.” Tom stalked closer to Jared, keeping him pinned to the wall with a gaze that spoke of sheer loathing. “The doctors have struggled with regulating his blood pressure all week. Every time he talks about the attack, or the show… or YOU, it spikes again. I can’t let you endanger his health. I won’t.”
Jared wanted to die right there, wanted to topple over useless and just be relieved from this nightmare that had gripped his life. He was out on the street and down two blocks before he even realized he was running. Jensen hated him; the very thought of him endangered Jensen’s life. Oh God.
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Jared sat on the floor of his room wiping his eyes and deciding not to cry ever again in his life. Of course, his mind’s decisions didn’t always survived his body’s veto. Damn feelings! He felt pathetic for letting Tom’s words get to him like this, and he wanted to be angry, to scream in his face that what he’d said was not true. But what if it was? What if Jensen really thought Jared had ruined everything? He didn’t know if he could live with that thought.
He sniffed and heaved himself to his feet, taking a deep breath that left his body with a sigh. He had a show to play. Actually, he had a whole season of shows to do. This was the moment that Jared decided to give it his all. Every performance would be played as if it were his last. It was the only thing that could take his mind off things. During high school he had found out that when on stage the problems of Jared Padalecki retreated, and the person he was playing took over. It was a heady feeling for a self-conscious teenager, and this was the closest he’d felt to the hormonal struggles of his adolescence since he left Texas.
He would put his heart into the task at hand and forget the maybes, and the pain of not knowing what to do about the things he had no hand in anymore. If his heart would break whenever he played Jensen’s part - because to him it would always be Jensen’s part - he would swallow it and remember the proud smile his friend had given him when Jared became his understudy. In Jared’s mind, Jensen would always be his friend, even if he might have nothing but contempt for him right now.
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Exhaustion was a good thing. To Jared it was a friend who helped him through many a day. It could silence his mind and stop the painful thumping of his heart. When exhausted, Jared could finally sleep - even had to sleep. Sleep was good, it was needed. So he worked hard and long, indulging in the fact that his job was physically straining and asked for the long hours he needed, and if they weren’t enough then Jared would go for a run after work, until his muscles stung, and his head swam from fatigue. If the next morning he would wake up way too early with tear streaks on his face he didn’t acknowledge it.
Jeff was pleased with Jared’s new found workaholic mentality, telling him only on rare occasions to tune it down a little and maybe kick back a little. Jared nodded and promised he would, but to be honest that was a lie. If he could lie to himself, tell his heart that everything was fine, then lying to Jeff didn’t make a big difference, did it?
He had managed to keep himself occupied for ten days now, had managed to empty his mind of the pain that threatened to break his soul irreparably.
This day he had pounded the pavement for at least forty-five minutes before heading back home in the warm evening air. He was done and glad about it, wishing only to fall into bed and not get up for the next twelve hours. If work hadn’t demanded that he be sharp every morning and several evenings he might have succumbed to drinking. But his drug of choice was sweat.
He dragged his feet and felt the beads of sweat running down his temples and neck as he mounted the stairs to his apartment, pushing the key into the lock, letting himself in and hitting the shower instantly. He didn’t notice something was different from his normal routine, until he was halfway to his room again, dressed in pajama bottoms and a flimsy shirt, hair still wet and sticking up in all directions. He had jerked off as well - some needs even exhaustion couldn’t kill - and he felt just a little more of a bastard for thinking of green eyes while doing it.
He wasn’t prepared to find Chad standing outside his room, arms crossed and looking determined. Jared frowned at him and rubbed his eyes warily. “What’s up, man?”
“Jay, we need to talk.”
“’Bout what?” He wanted to get to sleep, before his mind decided to jump start again.
“About what the hell you’re doing to yourself lately.” The sad look on Chad’s face made Jared’s insides cringe. Shit.
“What are you talking about?” He tried to push by his roommate, which should normally not have been a problem. But an exhausted Jared really wasn’t up to competing with Chad’s wrestling skills. So after a moment he gave up and turned away making a beeline for the couch. He could sleep there if need be.
He was even more startled when he saw who else was occupying the soft cushions of their small living room couch. That was the moment real dread entered Jared’s groggy mind. It was most certainly not a good thing when Misha, Lauren and Sophia stared back at him from his beloved couch, and he didn’t remember inviting them over.
“What are you doing here?”
Misha sighed and stood up, crossing the room towards him. “We are here to help Chad bang some reason into your stubborn head already.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re worried!” This was Sophia, and Jared found his head spinning with the effort of snapping his attention from one person to another so quickly.
“There’s nothing to be worried about, guys.”
A snort made the circle of communication complete, and Lauren seemed to be half disgusted and half amused. “Yeah. because you didn’t behave like a zombie for nearly two weeks now.”
“I-“ Jared’s mouth opened and closed as he desperately tried to think of a retort to that. What was he supposed to say?
“Don’t you dare deny it, man. You are completely freaked!” when did Chad get so much insight into a persons psyche?
Misha took over the cue as if they had rehearsed it earlier. If Chad were an actor, and not working in a call center, Jared might even have considered that option. “And you try to hide it but we all see it. You are working yourself to death, even if it’s uncalled for.”
“And you are avoiding any conversations that aren’t just about the weather like the plague”, Sophia joined in.
Jared shrank back and tried to escape the room, but a stern looking Lauren - and dude, she could be really scary - stood in his way, arms crossed and face angry.
“Guys, I really don’t appreciate you ganging up on me. I’m fine.”
“’Fine’ my ass, Padalecki!” Jared always knew Lauren was one for the more colorful language.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Misha had already grabbed his shoulders and started navigating him towards the couch where Jared flopped down, the two girls took up their positions one on each side of him while Misha and Chad sat down on the coffee table facing him.
“Spill it, Jay.” Chad’s look was as serious as it had ever been, and Jared felt the fear in the back of his mind stir towards the edge of panic. He was silent, teeth bothering his lower lip, and he saw Misha heave a silent sigh once more. Before leaning forward tentatively.
“Jared, I know you went to see Jensen. It is obvious that something happened there, and we thought if we let you work through it you’d be fine. But it’s obvious that your coping strategies are failing. Tell us what happened.”
Jared stared at him for a second. Was he a fucking shrink as well as a dancer now? He thought of trying to run, but he knew they would chain him to the couch if need be. So he closed his eyes and wished for a quick and silent death, if only things were that easy! It was a long while before he started speaking. “I didn’t… I mean, I did go, but- but I didn’t see him.” And finally Jared Padalecki broke. He could feel hot tears sting his eyes and rush down his cheeks as he remembered his interaction with Tom. He recounted Tom’s words that were were burned into his mind like it was yesterday and let the pain engulf him, swallowing him whole.
“That goddamn fucking bastard!”, was the first sound any of his friends made, after he finished his tale with the cowardly retreat and dropped his head onto his hands, hiding his shame ineffectually. It was Sophia, and if Jared had an ounce of strength left he’d wonder about that, because it was such a Lauren thing to say.
“C’mon, Jared. You didn’t really believe that bullshit!” Okay, so maybe this was the Lauren thing to say, and Jared could practically hear Misha rolling his eyes.
“Jay, I don’t think it’s true.”
He sniffed and rubbed his face mumbling “But what if…” weakly.
“Then you’d think Jensen had brain injury, instead of abdominal wounds.” Thank you Lauren, what a great way to make him feel better. Tact had never been her strong suit. Maybe, actually the lack thereof was.
“Jared.” There was a long pause after Misha said his name, and Jared finally looked up through blurry eyes. The other dancer skidded slightly forward on the table and put his hand on Jared’s arm reassuringly. “You really need to visit him. If those things are true, he should tell you so himself. Maybe he just needs to vent or something. Give him that chance. You know the guy, we all do. He’s a decent person, and he’s not stupid. Maybe he’s frustrated and hurt, and, hell, he has every right to be that way, but that only means he needs his friends even more than ever, and you are more of a friend to him than any of us. Please don’t be selfish.”
“And Tom’s full of bullshit, anyway.” Maybe Chad and Lauren should team up and go to a self-aid group for Tourette’s syndrome…
“But if he… I don’t know if I can take it.”
He saw Chad’s face fall and heard a low sigh to his side. Lauren gazed at him intensely. “Shit, you really love the guy.”
He did, and there was no denying it anymore. He loved Jensen, and it hurt like hell. Tears spilled again, and out of all the people there, he found himself sobbing into Lauren’s shoulder.
Sofia patted his back timidly. “Just be there, Jay. You have to try.”
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Jared nearly choked when he spoke to the nurse. “Jared Padalecki for Jensen Ackles, please.”
Misha had made sure to get the room number from Jeffrey. He told Jared that it was obvious that Jensen was doing a lot better. Well it was already some weeks since the attack, but Jared had tried to ignore all news, until his meltdown two days earlier.
“One moment please.” The nurse left her station, and Jared found himself scraping his feet nervously. He had to fight the urge to run and hide and cry. But he was sick of crying, and so his fingers drummed on the desk impatiently as he shut out all the worst-case scenarios that ran through his head, each one more ridiculous than its predecessor.
He held back a sigh of relief as the nurse returned shortly after leaving him to his own thoughts.
“I’m very sorry, but Mr. Ackles is no longer being treated here. He was relocated to a Texan hospital this morning… something about moving closer to where his family could support his rehabilitation, I think.”
Jared wanted to scream.
...next part...
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