Fic: How Not to Love You
Title: How Not to Love You
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Summary: A Heidi retelling. Jared totally adores the orphan boy brought by someone to keep him company. He is also sure that Jensen, the boy, likes him, too. Yet he can’t deny the longing gaze Jensen has every time he looks out the window.
AN: Written for j2_everafter. Pre-slash, younger!Jensen. My greatest thanks to mews1945 and layne67 for betaing this, and deadflowers5 for the art here.
Jared’s lips twitch in amusement as he listens to the endless prattling of words from the boy, as he jumps from one point to another, only to return to the very first thing he spoke about.
“Grandpa’s bread is the best in the mountain and village. It’s soft and very, very warm.”
“Peter’s goats, you know, they are very naughty and very strong, too. Once one of them shoved me over a fallen tree until I couldn’t sit for days.”
Jared begins to giggle.
“The first time Aunt Dete took me to Grandpa, I was terrified of him. He never smiled, never sang a song. When I asked where I should go sleep, he just grunted and nodded up to the mound of dry hay in the loft up the ladder. I mean, Aunt Dete never allowed me to sleep on her soft mattress and I didn’t mind sleeping on the hay. But it was cold and I only got my jacket and sweater, and…”
“Your aunt didn’t allow you to sleep on the mattress? Where did you sleep then, on the floor?” Jared frowns.
Jensen chuckles gleefully. “No, of course not. I had my own bed, only the mattress was like… was like…” He looks around and his eyes catch on the big table in the middle of the room. He smiles and goes toward the sturdy mahogany table, knocks on its surface, and nods contentedly at Jared. “It was like this.”
Jared chokes. “What? Your bed’s as hard as a wooden table?”
“Not anymore.” Jensen smiles sweetly and Jared is so lost in it that he misses what Jensen is saying next.
“W-what?” he asks, blinking as he shakes his head.
“My bed was hard but not the one in Grandpa’s house. He makes me a mattress filled with sheep’s wool. It feels snug sleeping on it. You can try it, too.” And he grabs Jared’s hand. “We can go now if you want. Aunt Dete is leaving in a moment. We can go with her. Right? Come on.”
Something catches in Jared’s throat.
“But Jensen, I want you to stay here with me…”
The door suddenly opens and Jared’s nanny, Mrs. Rottenmeier steps into Jared's sitting room and says, “You are indeed leaving first thing tomorrow morning, Jensen.”
Jared almost jumps from his wheelchair and he scowls. “But he can’t leave! Jensen can’t leave. I like him.”
Jensen is not pleased either. “No, I can’t. My grandpa is waiting. He doesn’t know where I’m going and I want to go home now.”
“You’ll be leaving in the morning-”
“I don’t want him to go! Papa said it’s good for me to have a study mate. Mrs. Rottenmeier, please say I can keep him.”
“You can’t keep me here! Grandpa - he’s giving me a birthday party today. I left the shoes he was going to give to me as a birthday present near the hearth so he’d know I’d come back. He must have found the shoes so I will - I should…”
Jensen halts when Jared touches his shoulder.
“It’s your birthday today?”
Jensen nods.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twelve years old,” he says with his chin up.
“Oh,” Jared says, surprised.
“What?”
“No, nothing,” Jared says as he turns his face away. Jensen looks like a boy who has yet to meet his eighth summer even if he does look healthy and his cheeks are plump and sun-kissed. Jared reluctantly pictures Jensen’s life with his Aunt Dete, a mattress as hard as wood, not enough bread and milk at meals - and perhaps his bread was as hard as the mattress, too, from the way he described bread made by his grandfather. It is absolutely not nothing and Jared will make sure Jensen’s life will be a lot better if he stays with him. He will have his own room with a warm and large bed, and he will eat bread, meat, and pudding as much as he likes.
Jared starts to tell Jensen all that but the boy is near hysterical and Jared, being only fourteen himself and bound to his wheelchair after he fell off from a horse a year ago, begins to get frantic as well. Mrs. Rottenmeier holds his shoulders but he shrugs off her hands.
“Get away from me. I don’t need you. I want Jensen. He has to stay, he-”
“Now, now, Jared. What did I tell you about being too excited? No excitement, it's bad for your health.”
“I don’t care. Don’t touch me. You keep saying no excitement for me. Me! I'm a boy and I should be playing a ball out there and not bound to my wheelchair for the rest of my life. Do you want me to get well or not, Mrs. Rottenmeier?”
Stunned into silence, the old nanny can only stare at Jared and then Jensen who shies away from them. Jared belatedly realizes the mistake he’s just made.
“Jensen. Jensen, no. I’m not angry at you…”
Jensen backs away from Jared and he would have fled out the door if not for a sudden, loud voice from behind him.
“Dinner is served.”
Jensen looks like a deer caught in the light, staring up at Andrews, the butler. Jared looks at him, feeling at a loss of what to do. He has never felt more grateful when Mrs Rottenmeier claps her hands and with an authoritative voice, she says, “Right, boys. Everyone to the dining room now.”
At first Jared thought Jensen would stay quiet or even sulk but the moment they get into the dining room, Jensen let out a sharp intake of breath and words begin pouring out of his mouth again.
“Mr. Padalecki, your house is a palace. Look at those flowers, the chandeliers, the chairs, the table! Mr. Padalecki, are you a king? Or is your father the king and you his prince?”
Jared can’t hold back his laughter. How can he not wish Jensen to stay with him, be with him every day? Jensen will light up his whole life and chase away his drab days in the company of Mrs. Rottenmeier.
“Jensen, my father’s not a king and I’m not a prince. And call me Jared. I’m not Mr. Padalecki.”
Jensen nods but he's already moving to the next thing that catches his attention; two angel statues standing on both sides of the door, but Mrs. Rottenmeier grabs his shoulders before he gets anywhere near them and steers him back toward the table.
“You have to follow the rules in this house, Jensen. Now sit down and put the napkin on your lap. No!” She gasps in horror. “That’s not the way to do it. I will show you. Look carefully.”
Jared’s eyes never leave Jensen as the boy starts to mimic what Mrs. Rottenmeier does, the way Jensen daintily waves the napkin open, spreads it on his lap, and clamps both hands on the edge of the table, looking innocently at Mrs. Rottenmeier - and Jared chuckles quietly, stopping immediately when Mrs Rottenmeier glares at him.
“Be silent, Jared.”
“Yes, Mrs. Rottenmeier.” But it is a lost cause and he breaks into peals and peals of laughter as she goes on and on showing Jensen how to help himself to the roast pork without realizing that Jensen has fallen asleep in his chair.
“Poor him. It must have been such a long day,” Jared says, looking up at Andrews.
“Don’t worry, young master. I’ve got him.”
Andrews proceeds by gathering Jensen in his arms and carrying him to the guest room. Jared wheels himself in their trail, neither checking nor caring if Mrs. Rottenmeier is following them.
“Be careful, Andrews.”
Jared spends the night twisting and turning in his bed and when he finally falls asleep, it is merely because he is too exhausted and not because he is convinced that everything will be all right the following day. Mrs. Rottenmeier said that Jensen would be leaving in the morning and Jared just can't bear the thought of that.
So when the first streaks of sunlight sift into his room, Jared jumps awake.
“Andrews!”
“Coming, Master.” Andrews enters Jared's bedroom, his face calm and impassive as usual. “Do you need to shower now, Master?”
“No. Help me up and take me to Jensen’s room.”
The butler frowns, hesitating.
“What?” Jared asks, feeling annoyed.
“Master Jensen is still asleep, young master.”
“What do you mean? Doesn’t he need to get ready soon before his aunt picks him up?”
“Uh, I don’t think his aunt is going to come to this house anymore, Master Jared.”
Jared stares at him before it suddenly dawns on him that Mrs. Rottenmeier had lied to Jensen last night just so the boy would calm down. Jared can’t help but feel pleased now that he knows that Jensen will not leave soon, though he dreads the time when Jensen finds out about it.
“All right, then. Help me to the shower. I'll be having my breakfast together with Jensen.”
Andrews simply nods.
“Hi, Jensen.” Jared smiles as Jensen enters the dining room with Andrews. “Come, sit here beside me.”
“Where’s Mrs. Rottenmeier?”
“Can’t believe you prefer her company to mine.” Jared laughs.
Jensen takes a seat beside Jared. “No, but - is my aunt with her now?”
“Jensen…” Jared looks at Andrews in despair. “Hey.” Jared turns back at Jensen.
“Yes?”
Jared pushes a small box toward Jensen. “Forgive me for being impolite and forgetting to wish you a happy birthday last night. I have something for you.”
Jensen stares at him, his eyes huge and green, his mouth parting. “You're giving me a gift?”
Jared smiles and nods.
“Oh.” He takes the box and shakes it a bit. “It feels heavy. What’s in it?”
“Open it.”
The boy fumbles with the lid. “I told you that Grandpa gave me shoes, right? But he didn’t bother wrapping them up.” He stops to look at Jared. “I love getting presents.”
“Open it, Jensen.”
“Uh. Yes.” He opens the package and cries out in surprise and joy. “It’s so beautiful!” Jensen lifts the snow globe carefully and peers into its content. “That’s… that’s-”
“This is what you should do.” Jared takes the round glass and turns it upside down and then turns it back up, making the Styrofoam inside fall down like snow. Then he gives it back to Jensen.
“It’s so beautiful,” Jensen says again, but goes silent as he gazes at the toy.
“What is it?” Jared asks quietly.
“It’s Grandpa’s house inside there and that’s Grandpa.”
Jared follows Jensen's gaze. The snow globe depicts a mountainous area with a farmhouse and an old man standing before it. Jared imagines the man looking like Jensen’s grandfather.
“I want to go home.”
The voice is small yet it tears into Jared’s heart like the sharpest of knife.
“Yes, Jensen, of course. Mrs. Rottenmeier has said-” Only of course it’s not true because Mrs. Rottenmeier has lied and as much as Jared wants Jensen to be his friend, it’s wrong if that means making the boy feel miserable during his stay here.
“I’m sorry, Jensen, but you can’t go home.”
Speak of the devil. Both boys turn at her voice.
“Your aunt has to rush away this morning. She said she had to finish some business downtown and go out of town afterwards.”
“Aunt Dete was here this morning? Oh, I wish I’d wakened up earlier.” Jensen sounds regretful and somehow that makes Jared’s anger bubble up. Aunt Dete wasn’t in the house this morning, that he knows for sure. Mrs. Rottenmeier has lied again to their faces and not for a single second does she look as if she were sorry for doing that. Jared reaches out for Jensen’s hand.
“Jensen, I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you to your Grandpa. Let’s wait until Papa comes home, all right? He’s abroad right now for he’s a very busy man. But he’s coming home for Christmas and I’m sure we can take you home by then.” Jared looks pointedly at Mrs. Rottenmeier.
Her mouth opens and closes before she sighs. “All right. Eat your breakfast and you’ll begin your first lesson with us, Jensen.”
“What grade are you in now, Jensen?” asks Mrs. Rottenmeier as they all sat at the table in the study. “Twelve years old - that puts you in the fifth or sixth grade.”
Jensen does not look up from the book spread open before him. “I don’t go to school.”
“What?” Mrs. Rottenmeier cries out. “That is impossible - and disgraceful.”
“Mrs. Rottenmeier…” Jared speaks up.
“But I can read,” Jensen interrupts. “And I can count and play the piano.”
Two pairs of startled eyes turned to Jensen. “You can play the piano? How?” asks Jared.
“I - I learned it whenever I was at the Cooper’s.”
“Did you also learn to read and count there?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Rottenmeier. I did it when I worked with the Bocellis.”
“Worked-” Jared swallows hard. “-with?”
“Oh yes.” Jensen smiles. “I worked with many families. Aunt Dete sent me there.”
Jared exchanges glances with Mrs. Rottenmeier and turns back to Jensen. “What did you do there?”
“Oh, I chopped wood for fire, scrubbed the bathrooms until they shone, and helped the madams fit into their clothes. They couldn’t clasp the back buttons sometimes.” Jensen nods solemnly as if all those things were something a little boy usually did.
“And did - did they pay you?”
“Oh no. They paid to Aunt Dete, that was what they said.”
“Jensen.” Jared touches his hand gently. “Did you expect us to ask you to do something in this house?”
To Jared’s dismay, Jensen’s face begins to crumple. “No. Aunt Dete took me to Grandpa’s house. I know I have to help Grandpa. I cleaned his house, milked the cows and the goats, and helped prepare for dinner. I don’t understand why she brought me here. I should - I should be with Grandpa.”
Jared shifts in his wheelchair. “Did Grandpa pay your Aunt Dete?” he asks, feeling confused.
Jensen rubs his eyes with the back of his hands, understanding slowly dawning in them. “No,” he says slowly. “But you pay her. That means… I work for you.”
Now it’s Jared’s heart that begins to crumples. He reaches out toward the boy. “I just - I just want someone to be my friend. You don’t have to do anything for me.”
To Jensen it seems that everything has been sorted out. He sits up straighter and smiles cheerfully.
“I’d be glad to be your friend, Jared. You can count on me for that.”
An awkward silence follows before Mrs. Rottenmeier claps her hands. “It’s all good then. You can read and count and we’ll continue our lesson from last week, right, Jared?”
Jared nods his head numbly. He doesn't think that he can concentrate on Mrs. Rottenmeier's lesson but to his surprise, the morning session turns out to be one of the most enjoyable lessons he’s ever had. Taking turns with Jensen, he reads as Mr. Rochester while Jensen becomes Jane Eyre, and he catches the rarest moment when Mrs. Rottenmeier actually smiles. They end their lesson with Jensen playing a merry tune of one of Mozart’s compositions at the piano.
Jared is very much aware of Jensen's gloom which is pretty obvious to him, the unhappiness reflected in Jensen's expressive eyes. The boy doesn’t have to say anything; he can do his best to try and hide it but Jared can see right through him. He so often finds Jensen looking out the window, longing in his face. He had once asked to go outside but after Jared had told him that the wind is bad for his sick body, that his father has forbidden him to even let the window open, he has never asked again. And Jensen understands - which is why he contents himself by looking through the window whenever he can.
“It’s snowing again,” Jensen says without turning back.
“Yes, it is. It’s going to be very cold tonight.”
“I pity those poor horses drawing the carts but they look so strong and beautiful.” This time he turns to Jared, his usual cheery smile on his lips. “You don’t want to look?”
Jared scowls.
“What is it?” Jensen grows wary.
Jared sighs. “I hate horses.”
“Oh. Why?”
“I fell from one and that’s why I’m like this.” He gestures toward his legs.
Jensen rises from the window seat. “When did it happen?”
“A year ago.”
“And they said you couldn't walk again?”
“Yes.”
“Let me have a look.” Jensen jumps and is beside the wheelchair in a trice.
“Jensen, what are you doing?” Jared flinches a little when Jensen starts to feel along his thighs and calves, even though he can’t really feel those hands.
“Your legs feel strong.” He moves slightly behind the wheelchair and pushes Jared's body forward, feeling down his spine.
“Hey!”
“Your back is also fine.”
“Come on. What are you doing?” Jared asks again. Jensen’s next words make him scoff.
“I can teach you to walk again.”
“Impossible,” Jared says. He puts his hands on Jensen's shoulder, stilling him. “Papa’s taken me to the doctors all over the country. None of them said there is so much as a sliver of hope for me to walk again.”
“But you will if you learn,” Jensen insists. “Grandpa said so.”
“Grandpa never met me.”
“No but he made Peter learn to read. Peter said no he can’t, no he can’t, but Grandpa teaches him. He could read after learning for a week. I mean Peter, not Grandpa.”
Jared laughs at that. “Reading is different from walking, Jensen, especially for an invalid like me.”
“You’re not an invalid. Come on.” Jensen taps his owns shoulders.
“What?”
“Stand up and lean on me. I’ll lead you.” He chuckles as Jared stares disbelievingly at him. “What? I’m pretty strong, you’ll see.”
Jared starts to shake his head, wanting to refuse, but he relents at the beseeching look that Jensen's giving him. Slowly he shifts his body forward to the edge of the chair, reaches for Jensen’s shoulder and tries to heave himself up. The boy feels bony and fragile under his hands and suddenly Jared starts shaking.
“No, no, I can’t.” His voice quivers as he pulls his legs back up and places his feet on the footrest. “I can't do this. I'll never be able to walk again,” he says as he slumps in his chair, looking down at his hands on his lap.
“Jared.” Jensen draws a deep breath. Jared lifts his head a little when he senses Jensen moving in front of him. Jensen is kneeling down, squeezing Jared’s knees. “That’s okay, for now. But you can. Trust me, you can.”
Jared looks into Jensen’s clear green eyes and he believes him.
Jared feels like he's under water when he becomes aware that someone is calling his name, “Master Jared? Wake up, Master Jared.”
The room is dark when he opens his eyes, shadows going around in circles before him as he refocuses. “Andrews? What is it?”
“Ssh. There is something that you should see, Master Jared. But don’t make any sound.” Andrews gathers him up and easily carries him out of the room, heading downstairs toward the front hall.
“What…” Jared whispers, feeling dizzy from being awaken so suddenly.
“Ssh.”
They stop at the door leading to the main hallway. Mrs Rottenmeier is there, standing quietly looking at something. Jared looks up at Andrews who nods toward the main entrance. There is - oh God - it's Jensen, and it looks like he's trying to unlock the door.
“Jensen? What’s he doing there? Andrews, Mrs. Rottenmeier, you have to stop him!”
“Be quiet, Jared.” This time it’s Mrs. Rottenmeier who speaks, also in whispers. “We shouldn’t startle him. Jensen’s still sleeping.”
“Sleeping?” Jared's eyes turn wide. He sees now how the boy’s shoulders sag as he fails to open the door. Jensen turns around and with his back against the door, slides down to the floor. “Christ, Jensen,” Jared whimpers in despair.
“Do not swear, Jared,” Mrs. Rottenmeier admonishes him.
“We should take him back to bed.”
“He will. He will go back by himself,” she says.
“You sure?” But even as Jared is talking, Jensen has risen to his feet. They quietly scurries out of his way when he walks towards them, his eyes open but unseeing.
None of them say anything as Jensen slowly enters his room, takes off his slippers and robe, and slips under the blanket in his bed. He turns to his side and curls into a fetal position, and soon his breaths even out, back into deep slumber.
“We should lock the door,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier as they retreat from the room.
“Wait, Mrs. Rottenmeier.”
“What is it, Jared?”
“Do you think it might be better if I stay with Jensen tonight?”
She looks at Andrews, and Andrews looks back at her but neither says anything.
“Instead of locking him in, don’t you think it’s better if he has someone to accompany him?” Jared stammers. He has no idea why he thinks that in the first place. “Jensen is lonely. He wants to go to his Grandpa’s place. He might think his Grandpa’s with him if I stay here.”
“And he’s going to feel embarrassed when he’s awake later. He’s twelve years old, Jared,” Mrs Rottenmeier says.
“Oh…” Jared feels his face get warm. “Well, if that’s a bad idea-”
“Or I can return Master Jared to his room before dawn, before Master Jensen wakes up tomorrow,” Andrews interrupts. “I agree with Master Jared that Master Jensen shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
Jared looks at Andrews gratefully while Mrs. Rottenmeier looks pensive.
“Hmm, all right,” Mrs Rottenmeier says reluctantly. “Andrews, lay Master Jared carefully next to Jensen so as not to wake him up. Then fetch more blankets from Master Jared’s room. I will have the maid get more firewood for this room.” Mrs. Rottenmeier has left the room when Andrews slowly lowers Jared down beside Jensen and covers him with the layers of blankets already on the bed.
Jared lies on his side, facing Jensen. There's unfamiliar warmth in his stomach as he looks at the younger boy. Jensen still has grief and pain etched on his face, making Jared long to smooth them. But in the end it is enough for him to simply look and silently promise Jensen that they will bring him home once his father arrives. Jared doesn't even realize it when Andrews returns with more blankets for him and Jensen.
The funny thing about what happened last night is that everyone in the household knows about it - everyone but Jensen. So when Mrs. Rottenmeier goes on and on about the causes and the dangers of sleepwalking during breakfast, Jensen looks at Jared and whispers, “What is she talking about?”
Jared almost bursts out laughing. Then he points at Jensen. “You did that.”
“Did what?”
“Walked in your sleep.”
Jensen looks at him with wide eyes, and shakes his head. “No. No way.”
“Yes, you did.” Jared smiles and nudges at Jensen’s bowl. “But it doesn’t matter. Eat your breakfast now.”
Jensen shakes his head again, pushing the bowl away. “I’m not hungry.” He’s eyeing the bread and cheese and looks as if he's about to reach for them, but he doesn’t. Jared frowns.
Jensen’s weird behavior during meals continues during the next few days. Ever so often he only takes several bites of rolls or bacon or a few spoonfuls of stew. Jared would have been more worried had Jensen not been more normal at the other times of the day but he still talks a mile a minute about Peter’s goats or their blackened noses thanks to the soot from Grandpa’s chimney. And he still makes Andrews and Mrs. Rottenmeier smile and blush with his jokes, still laughs merrily at Jared’s unfunny jokes. And he still teaches Jared to walk.
But Jared can see the sadness in him, too. Jensen has been looking out the windows more and more frequently and his face is paler now compared to when he first came to the house. Mrs. Rottenmeier says it's because Jensen doesn’t go out much. That much is true. Jensen doesn’t go out at all.
Until one day when Jared and Mrs. Rottenmeier are at breakfast, waiting for Jensen. Andrews enters the dining room, saying breathlessly, “Master Jared, Mrs. Rottenmeier. It’s Master Jensen.” He pauses to take a breath. “He won’t wake up. He has a nightmare. And he won’t wake up.”
“No.” Without thinking, Jared turns his wheelchair around, steps down and half-runs, half-limps out of the room in the direction of the stairs. When he gets to the foot of the stairs he turns back, one hand gripping the handrail tightly. “Andrews, help me up, please.”
Looking at the flabbergasted expressions on Mrs. Rottenmeier and Andrews's faces, only then does he realizes what has just happened.
Jared crawls up to Jensen’s side once Andrews has lain him down on the bed. “Oh, Jensen,” he murmurs sadly. Jensen is twisting and turning, talking in his sleep and shivering. Beads of sweat pour out of his pores, his freckles in stark contrast to his ashen face.
Jared gently palms the side of Jensen's face and he cries out in fear, “He’s burning up! Mrs. Rottenmeier-” He turns around but she’s no longer in the room, probably getting them what they need. He turns back to Jensen. “Jensen, you’re going home, I promise. You hang in there, all right? You're going to go home.”
When Mrs. Rottenmeier is back with a bowl of iced water and a small towel, Jared grabs the towel from her, soaks it thoroughly, wringing the cold water out before smoothing it gently over Jensen’s heated temple.
Jared’s tears run down his cheeks as he presses the damp towel over Jensen’s forehead and the rest of his face, repeating the process over and over again.
“Master Jared…”
“What?” he snaps.
“Doctor Garneau is here to check on Jensen.”
Jared’s hand stops in mid air. “Oh, all right.” He shifts a little. “But I’m staying here with Jensen.”
“Of course, Master Jared.”
Silently Jared watches as the family physician checks Jensen’s temperature, listens to his heartbeat with a stethoscope, palpates his stomach. After checking Jensen’s blood pressure and looking into his throat, Doctor Garneau collects his apparatus and put them all back into his black bag.
“Jensen has a high fever,” he says, looking at Jared. “There’s a swelling in his throat and…”
Jared gasps and the doctor smiles a little.
“It’s all right. It’s nothing serious.” Then he turns to Mrs. Rottenmeier. “Just make sure he drinks a lot of water and that his food is soft. A bowl of hot chicken soup is good for him.”
“Jensen hasn’t eaten much lately,” Jared says, almost like an afterthought.
“Hmm, perhaps that’s because his throat hurts.” Doctor Garneau searches into his bag. “I’m giving some antibiotics, all right. Make sure he finishes it in three days. If he doesn’t get any better then, you should call me.”
“Yes, Doctor,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier.
“If he doesn’t get any better, we’ll take him back to the mountains,” Jared speaks again.
The doctor smiles and taps Jared’s cheek softly. “That might be good for him, some fresh mountain air. I think it’s going to be good for you, too, Master Jared.”
Jared ducks shyly, happy that the doctor agrees with him.
“All right, I’m going now.” Doctor Garneau rises to his feet and shakes Mrs. Rottenmeier’s hand. “Give my regard to your father, Jared.”
“Sure, Doctor.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier. “Andrews, please show the Doctor the door.”
“Absolutely. Right this way, Sir.”
That night Jared continues to stay in Jensen’s room despite the fact that the boy’s awake and looks slightly confused as to why Jared is in his bed.
“Ssh.” Jared smoothes Jensen's hair back. “You’re sick. You need someone to take care of you.” The fact is Jared has been taking care of him the whole day, helping Jensen eat his steaming broth and making sure the boy always has a glass of water beside him.
Jensen’s temperature has decreased significantly after he takes the medicine but Jensen still looks sleepy and tired.
“You want to sleep now?” asks Jared.
Jensen nods, his eyelids already drooping.
“You go sleep then. I’ll be right here with you.”
Jensen makes a low acquiescing sound at the back of his throat and leans in as Jared pulls him in his arms.
Epilogue
“Jensen, look at what Papa gave me as a Christmas present.” Jared proudly shows off his wooden toy plane.
“That’s pretty. It’s almost as pretty as mine.” Jensen shows his, also a toy plane but from a different model.
Listening to their banter, Mr. Padalecki and Jensen’s Grandpa laugh. They pick up their pint of beer at the same time and make a toast.
Andrews and Mrs. Rottenmeier follow suit while looking around them, admiring the sights from up the mountain. Everything is covered with snow, pure white and dazzling and simply beautiful.
They have been having lunch outdoors, savoring the fresh, cool mountain air as well as Grandpa’s famous fresh homemade bread. As promised, Jared had taken Jensen back to his Grandpa’s house and Jensen had gotten a lot better by the time Jared’s father finally returned. Jared has made sure Jensen has enough to eat and he is delighted that the healthy color is back in Jensen’s cheeks.
“Jared, isn’t it time to give your Papa his Christmas gift?” Jensen’s voice brings him out of his reverie. Jared grins.
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
“You have a present? For me?” Jared’s father asks, eyes dancing between Jared and Jensen.
Jared takes Jensen's hand in his, feeling excited. Andrews had carried him all the way up the mountain as that was too difficult for him to handle. But this? He can do this, especially with Jensen by his side.
He looks up at Jensen and they exchange winks. Holding on tightly to Jensen, Jared slowly heaves himself up and as he let go of Jensen's hand, begins walking toward his father, his steps sure and steady.
His father gasps in surprise and looking up, Jared sees the shock disbelief on his face. He stumbles into his father arms where he's tightly embraced.
“Oh, Jared, my boy. This is such a miracle, the best Christmas gift ever.” His voice is muffled by Jared’s shoulder.
“Yes, Papa.” Jared clings to his arms. “But-” He pulls back and fumbles for Jensen’s hand, pulling him in toward them. “-this wouldn’t have happened without Jensen, Papa. If not for him…”
“Jared, come on,” Jensen says, sounding embarrassed. “It's all you, you know. You worked hard for this.”
“Yes, but-”
“Hey, that’s Peter. Peter! Where are the goats? Can we ride on them?” And Jared lets himself be dragged to Jensen's friends and his cattle.
Fin
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG
Summary: A Heidi retelling. Jared totally adores the orphan boy brought by someone to keep him company. He is also sure that Jensen, the boy, likes him, too. Yet he can’t deny the longing gaze Jensen has every time he looks out the window.
AN: Written for j2_everafter. Pre-slash, younger!Jensen. My greatest thanks to mews1945 and layne67 for betaing this, and deadflowers5 for the art here.
Jared’s lips twitch in amusement as he listens to the endless prattling of words from the boy, as he jumps from one point to another, only to return to the very first thing he spoke about.
“Grandpa’s bread is the best in the mountain and village. It’s soft and very, very warm.”
“Peter’s goats, you know, they are very naughty and very strong, too. Once one of them shoved me over a fallen tree until I couldn’t sit for days.”
Jared begins to giggle.
“The first time Aunt Dete took me to Grandpa, I was terrified of him. He never smiled, never sang a song. When I asked where I should go sleep, he just grunted and nodded up to the mound of dry hay in the loft up the ladder. I mean, Aunt Dete never allowed me to sleep on her soft mattress and I didn’t mind sleeping on the hay. But it was cold and I only got my jacket and sweater, and…”
“Your aunt didn’t allow you to sleep on the mattress? Where did you sleep then, on the floor?” Jared frowns.
Jensen chuckles gleefully. “No, of course not. I had my own bed, only the mattress was like… was like…” He looks around and his eyes catch on the big table in the middle of the room. He smiles and goes toward the sturdy mahogany table, knocks on its surface, and nods contentedly at Jared. “It was like this.”
Jared chokes. “What? Your bed’s as hard as a wooden table?”
“Not anymore.” Jensen smiles sweetly and Jared is so lost in it that he misses what Jensen is saying next.
“W-what?” he asks, blinking as he shakes his head.
“My bed was hard but not the one in Grandpa’s house. He makes me a mattress filled with sheep’s wool. It feels snug sleeping on it. You can try it, too.” And he grabs Jared’s hand. “We can go now if you want. Aunt Dete is leaving in a moment. We can go with her. Right? Come on.”
Something catches in Jared’s throat.
“But Jensen, I want you to stay here with me…”
The door suddenly opens and Jared’s nanny, Mrs. Rottenmeier steps into Jared's sitting room and says, “You are indeed leaving first thing tomorrow morning, Jensen.”
Jared almost jumps from his wheelchair and he scowls. “But he can’t leave! Jensen can’t leave. I like him.”
Jensen is not pleased either. “No, I can’t. My grandpa is waiting. He doesn’t know where I’m going and I want to go home now.”
“You’ll be leaving in the morning-”
“I don’t want him to go! Papa said it’s good for me to have a study mate. Mrs. Rottenmeier, please say I can keep him.”
“You can’t keep me here! Grandpa - he’s giving me a birthday party today. I left the shoes he was going to give to me as a birthday present near the hearth so he’d know I’d come back. He must have found the shoes so I will - I should…”
Jensen halts when Jared touches his shoulder.
“It’s your birthday today?”
Jensen nods.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twelve years old,” he says with his chin up.
“Oh,” Jared says, surprised.
“What?”
“No, nothing,” Jared says as he turns his face away. Jensen looks like a boy who has yet to meet his eighth summer even if he does look healthy and his cheeks are plump and sun-kissed. Jared reluctantly pictures Jensen’s life with his Aunt Dete, a mattress as hard as wood, not enough bread and milk at meals - and perhaps his bread was as hard as the mattress, too, from the way he described bread made by his grandfather. It is absolutely not nothing and Jared will make sure Jensen’s life will be a lot better if he stays with him. He will have his own room with a warm and large bed, and he will eat bread, meat, and pudding as much as he likes.
Jared starts to tell Jensen all that but the boy is near hysterical and Jared, being only fourteen himself and bound to his wheelchair after he fell off from a horse a year ago, begins to get frantic as well. Mrs. Rottenmeier holds his shoulders but he shrugs off her hands.
“Get away from me. I don’t need you. I want Jensen. He has to stay, he-”
“Now, now, Jared. What did I tell you about being too excited? No excitement, it's bad for your health.”
“I don’t care. Don’t touch me. You keep saying no excitement for me. Me! I'm a boy and I should be playing a ball out there and not bound to my wheelchair for the rest of my life. Do you want me to get well or not, Mrs. Rottenmeier?”
Stunned into silence, the old nanny can only stare at Jared and then Jensen who shies away from them. Jared belatedly realizes the mistake he’s just made.
“Jensen. Jensen, no. I’m not angry at you…”
Jensen backs away from Jared and he would have fled out the door if not for a sudden, loud voice from behind him.
“Dinner is served.”
Jensen looks like a deer caught in the light, staring up at Andrews, the butler. Jared looks at him, feeling at a loss of what to do. He has never felt more grateful when Mrs Rottenmeier claps her hands and with an authoritative voice, she says, “Right, boys. Everyone to the dining room now.”
At first Jared thought Jensen would stay quiet or even sulk but the moment they get into the dining room, Jensen let out a sharp intake of breath and words begin pouring out of his mouth again.
“Mr. Padalecki, your house is a palace. Look at those flowers, the chandeliers, the chairs, the table! Mr. Padalecki, are you a king? Or is your father the king and you his prince?”
Jared can’t hold back his laughter. How can he not wish Jensen to stay with him, be with him every day? Jensen will light up his whole life and chase away his drab days in the company of Mrs. Rottenmeier.
“Jensen, my father’s not a king and I’m not a prince. And call me Jared. I’m not Mr. Padalecki.”
Jensen nods but he's already moving to the next thing that catches his attention; two angel statues standing on both sides of the door, but Mrs. Rottenmeier grabs his shoulders before he gets anywhere near them and steers him back toward the table.
“You have to follow the rules in this house, Jensen. Now sit down and put the napkin on your lap. No!” She gasps in horror. “That’s not the way to do it. I will show you. Look carefully.”
Jared’s eyes never leave Jensen as the boy starts to mimic what Mrs. Rottenmeier does, the way Jensen daintily waves the napkin open, spreads it on his lap, and clamps both hands on the edge of the table, looking innocently at Mrs. Rottenmeier - and Jared chuckles quietly, stopping immediately when Mrs Rottenmeier glares at him.
“Be silent, Jared.”
“Yes, Mrs. Rottenmeier.” But it is a lost cause and he breaks into peals and peals of laughter as she goes on and on showing Jensen how to help himself to the roast pork without realizing that Jensen has fallen asleep in his chair.
“Poor him. It must have been such a long day,” Jared says, looking up at Andrews.
“Don’t worry, young master. I’ve got him.”
Andrews proceeds by gathering Jensen in his arms and carrying him to the guest room. Jared wheels himself in their trail, neither checking nor caring if Mrs. Rottenmeier is following them.
“Be careful, Andrews.”
Jared spends the night twisting and turning in his bed and when he finally falls asleep, it is merely because he is too exhausted and not because he is convinced that everything will be all right the following day. Mrs. Rottenmeier said that Jensen would be leaving in the morning and Jared just can't bear the thought of that.
So when the first streaks of sunlight sift into his room, Jared jumps awake.
“Andrews!”
“Coming, Master.” Andrews enters Jared's bedroom, his face calm and impassive as usual. “Do you need to shower now, Master?”
“No. Help me up and take me to Jensen’s room.”
The butler frowns, hesitating.
“What?” Jared asks, feeling annoyed.
“Master Jensen is still asleep, young master.”
“What do you mean? Doesn’t he need to get ready soon before his aunt picks him up?”
“Uh, I don’t think his aunt is going to come to this house anymore, Master Jared.”
Jared stares at him before it suddenly dawns on him that Mrs. Rottenmeier had lied to Jensen last night just so the boy would calm down. Jared can’t help but feel pleased now that he knows that Jensen will not leave soon, though he dreads the time when Jensen finds out about it.
“All right, then. Help me to the shower. I'll be having my breakfast together with Jensen.”
Andrews simply nods.
“Hi, Jensen.” Jared smiles as Jensen enters the dining room with Andrews. “Come, sit here beside me.”
“Where’s Mrs. Rottenmeier?”
“Can’t believe you prefer her company to mine.” Jared laughs.
Jensen takes a seat beside Jared. “No, but - is my aunt with her now?”
“Jensen…” Jared looks at Andrews in despair. “Hey.” Jared turns back at Jensen.
“Yes?”
Jared pushes a small box toward Jensen. “Forgive me for being impolite and forgetting to wish you a happy birthday last night. I have something for you.”
Jensen stares at him, his eyes huge and green, his mouth parting. “You're giving me a gift?”
Jared smiles and nods.
“Oh.” He takes the box and shakes it a bit. “It feels heavy. What’s in it?”
“Open it.”
The boy fumbles with the lid. “I told you that Grandpa gave me shoes, right? But he didn’t bother wrapping them up.” He stops to look at Jared. “I love getting presents.”
“Open it, Jensen.”
“Uh. Yes.” He opens the package and cries out in surprise and joy. “It’s so beautiful!” Jensen lifts the snow globe carefully and peers into its content. “That’s… that’s-”
“This is what you should do.” Jared takes the round glass and turns it upside down and then turns it back up, making the Styrofoam inside fall down like snow. Then he gives it back to Jensen.
“It’s so beautiful,” Jensen says again, but goes silent as he gazes at the toy.
“What is it?” Jared asks quietly.
“It’s Grandpa’s house inside there and that’s Grandpa.”
Jared follows Jensen's gaze. The snow globe depicts a mountainous area with a farmhouse and an old man standing before it. Jared imagines the man looking like Jensen’s grandfather.
“I want to go home.”
The voice is small yet it tears into Jared’s heart like the sharpest of knife.
“Yes, Jensen, of course. Mrs. Rottenmeier has said-” Only of course it’s not true because Mrs. Rottenmeier has lied and as much as Jared wants Jensen to be his friend, it’s wrong if that means making the boy feel miserable during his stay here.
“I’m sorry, Jensen, but you can’t go home.”
Speak of the devil. Both boys turn at her voice.
“Your aunt has to rush away this morning. She said she had to finish some business downtown and go out of town afterwards.”
“Aunt Dete was here this morning? Oh, I wish I’d wakened up earlier.” Jensen sounds regretful and somehow that makes Jared’s anger bubble up. Aunt Dete wasn’t in the house this morning, that he knows for sure. Mrs. Rottenmeier has lied again to their faces and not for a single second does she look as if she were sorry for doing that. Jared reaches out for Jensen’s hand.
“Jensen, I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you to your Grandpa. Let’s wait until Papa comes home, all right? He’s abroad right now for he’s a very busy man. But he’s coming home for Christmas and I’m sure we can take you home by then.” Jared looks pointedly at Mrs. Rottenmeier.
Her mouth opens and closes before she sighs. “All right. Eat your breakfast and you’ll begin your first lesson with us, Jensen.”
“What grade are you in now, Jensen?” asks Mrs. Rottenmeier as they all sat at the table in the study. “Twelve years old - that puts you in the fifth or sixth grade.”
Jensen does not look up from the book spread open before him. “I don’t go to school.”
“What?” Mrs. Rottenmeier cries out. “That is impossible - and disgraceful.”
“Mrs. Rottenmeier…” Jared speaks up.
“But I can read,” Jensen interrupts. “And I can count and play the piano.”
Two pairs of startled eyes turned to Jensen. “You can play the piano? How?” asks Jared.
“I - I learned it whenever I was at the Cooper’s.”
“Did you also learn to read and count there?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Rottenmeier. I did it when I worked with the Bocellis.”
“Worked-” Jared swallows hard. “-with?”
“Oh yes.” Jensen smiles. “I worked with many families. Aunt Dete sent me there.”
Jared exchanges glances with Mrs. Rottenmeier and turns back to Jensen. “What did you do there?”
“Oh, I chopped wood for fire, scrubbed the bathrooms until they shone, and helped the madams fit into their clothes. They couldn’t clasp the back buttons sometimes.” Jensen nods solemnly as if all those things were something a little boy usually did.
“And did - did they pay you?”
“Oh no. They paid to Aunt Dete, that was what they said.”
“Jensen.” Jared touches his hand gently. “Did you expect us to ask you to do something in this house?”
To Jared’s dismay, Jensen’s face begins to crumple. “No. Aunt Dete took me to Grandpa’s house. I know I have to help Grandpa. I cleaned his house, milked the cows and the goats, and helped prepare for dinner. I don’t understand why she brought me here. I should - I should be with Grandpa.”
Jared shifts in his wheelchair. “Did Grandpa pay your Aunt Dete?” he asks, feeling confused.
Jensen rubs his eyes with the back of his hands, understanding slowly dawning in them. “No,” he says slowly. “But you pay her. That means… I work for you.”
Now it’s Jared’s heart that begins to crumples. He reaches out toward the boy. “I just - I just want someone to be my friend. You don’t have to do anything for me.”
To Jensen it seems that everything has been sorted out. He sits up straighter and smiles cheerfully.
“I’d be glad to be your friend, Jared. You can count on me for that.”
An awkward silence follows before Mrs. Rottenmeier claps her hands. “It’s all good then. You can read and count and we’ll continue our lesson from last week, right, Jared?”
Jared nods his head numbly. He doesn't think that he can concentrate on Mrs. Rottenmeier's lesson but to his surprise, the morning session turns out to be one of the most enjoyable lessons he’s ever had. Taking turns with Jensen, he reads as Mr. Rochester while Jensen becomes Jane Eyre, and he catches the rarest moment when Mrs. Rottenmeier actually smiles. They end their lesson with Jensen playing a merry tune of one of Mozart’s compositions at the piano.
Jared is very much aware of Jensen's gloom which is pretty obvious to him, the unhappiness reflected in Jensen's expressive eyes. The boy doesn’t have to say anything; he can do his best to try and hide it but Jared can see right through him. He so often finds Jensen looking out the window, longing in his face. He had once asked to go outside but after Jared had told him that the wind is bad for his sick body, that his father has forbidden him to even let the window open, he has never asked again. And Jensen understands - which is why he contents himself by looking through the window whenever he can.
“It’s snowing again,” Jensen says without turning back.
“Yes, it is. It’s going to be very cold tonight.”
“I pity those poor horses drawing the carts but they look so strong and beautiful.” This time he turns to Jared, his usual cheery smile on his lips. “You don’t want to look?”
Jared scowls.
“What is it?” Jensen grows wary.
Jared sighs. “I hate horses.”
“Oh. Why?”
“I fell from one and that’s why I’m like this.” He gestures toward his legs.
Jensen rises from the window seat. “When did it happen?”
“A year ago.”
“And they said you couldn't walk again?”
“Yes.”
“Let me have a look.” Jensen jumps and is beside the wheelchair in a trice.
“Jensen, what are you doing?” Jared flinches a little when Jensen starts to feel along his thighs and calves, even though he can’t really feel those hands.
“Your legs feel strong.” He moves slightly behind the wheelchair and pushes Jared's body forward, feeling down his spine.
“Hey!”
“Your back is also fine.”
“Come on. What are you doing?” Jared asks again. Jensen’s next words make him scoff.
“I can teach you to walk again.”
“Impossible,” Jared says. He puts his hands on Jensen's shoulder, stilling him. “Papa’s taken me to the doctors all over the country. None of them said there is so much as a sliver of hope for me to walk again.”
“But you will if you learn,” Jensen insists. “Grandpa said so.”
“Grandpa never met me.”
“No but he made Peter learn to read. Peter said no he can’t, no he can’t, but Grandpa teaches him. He could read after learning for a week. I mean Peter, not Grandpa.”
Jared laughs at that. “Reading is different from walking, Jensen, especially for an invalid like me.”
“You’re not an invalid. Come on.” Jensen taps his owns shoulders.
“What?”
“Stand up and lean on me. I’ll lead you.” He chuckles as Jared stares disbelievingly at him. “What? I’m pretty strong, you’ll see.”
Jared starts to shake his head, wanting to refuse, but he relents at the beseeching look that Jensen's giving him. Slowly he shifts his body forward to the edge of the chair, reaches for Jensen’s shoulder and tries to heave himself up. The boy feels bony and fragile under his hands and suddenly Jared starts shaking.
“No, no, I can’t.” His voice quivers as he pulls his legs back up and places his feet on the footrest. “I can't do this. I'll never be able to walk again,” he says as he slumps in his chair, looking down at his hands on his lap.
“Jared.” Jensen draws a deep breath. Jared lifts his head a little when he senses Jensen moving in front of him. Jensen is kneeling down, squeezing Jared’s knees. “That’s okay, for now. But you can. Trust me, you can.”
Jared looks into Jensen’s clear green eyes and he believes him.
Jared feels like he's under water when he becomes aware that someone is calling his name, “Master Jared? Wake up, Master Jared.”
The room is dark when he opens his eyes, shadows going around in circles before him as he refocuses. “Andrews? What is it?”
“Ssh. There is something that you should see, Master Jared. But don’t make any sound.” Andrews gathers him up and easily carries him out of the room, heading downstairs toward the front hall.
“What…” Jared whispers, feeling dizzy from being awaken so suddenly.
“Ssh.”
They stop at the door leading to the main hallway. Mrs Rottenmeier is there, standing quietly looking at something. Jared looks up at Andrews who nods toward the main entrance. There is - oh God - it's Jensen, and it looks like he's trying to unlock the door.
“Jensen? What’s he doing there? Andrews, Mrs. Rottenmeier, you have to stop him!”
“Be quiet, Jared.” This time it’s Mrs. Rottenmeier who speaks, also in whispers. “We shouldn’t startle him. Jensen’s still sleeping.”
“Sleeping?” Jared's eyes turn wide. He sees now how the boy’s shoulders sag as he fails to open the door. Jensen turns around and with his back against the door, slides down to the floor. “Christ, Jensen,” Jared whimpers in despair.
“Do not swear, Jared,” Mrs. Rottenmeier admonishes him.
“We should take him back to bed.”
“He will. He will go back by himself,” she says.
“You sure?” But even as Jared is talking, Jensen has risen to his feet. They quietly scurries out of his way when he walks towards them, his eyes open but unseeing.
None of them say anything as Jensen slowly enters his room, takes off his slippers and robe, and slips under the blanket in his bed. He turns to his side and curls into a fetal position, and soon his breaths even out, back into deep slumber.
“We should lock the door,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier as they retreat from the room.
“Wait, Mrs. Rottenmeier.”
“What is it, Jared?”
“Do you think it might be better if I stay with Jensen tonight?”
She looks at Andrews, and Andrews looks back at her but neither says anything.
“Instead of locking him in, don’t you think it’s better if he has someone to accompany him?” Jared stammers. He has no idea why he thinks that in the first place. “Jensen is lonely. He wants to go to his Grandpa’s place. He might think his Grandpa’s with him if I stay here.”
“And he’s going to feel embarrassed when he’s awake later. He’s twelve years old, Jared,” Mrs Rottenmeier says.
“Oh…” Jared feels his face get warm. “Well, if that’s a bad idea-”
“Or I can return Master Jared to his room before dawn, before Master Jensen wakes up tomorrow,” Andrews interrupts. “I agree with Master Jared that Master Jensen shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
Jared looks at Andrews gratefully while Mrs. Rottenmeier looks pensive.
“Hmm, all right,” Mrs Rottenmeier says reluctantly. “Andrews, lay Master Jared carefully next to Jensen so as not to wake him up. Then fetch more blankets from Master Jared’s room. I will have the maid get more firewood for this room.” Mrs. Rottenmeier has left the room when Andrews slowly lowers Jared down beside Jensen and covers him with the layers of blankets already on the bed.
Jared lies on his side, facing Jensen. There's unfamiliar warmth in his stomach as he looks at the younger boy. Jensen still has grief and pain etched on his face, making Jared long to smooth them. But in the end it is enough for him to simply look and silently promise Jensen that they will bring him home once his father arrives. Jared doesn't even realize it when Andrews returns with more blankets for him and Jensen.
The funny thing about what happened last night is that everyone in the household knows about it - everyone but Jensen. So when Mrs. Rottenmeier goes on and on about the causes and the dangers of sleepwalking during breakfast, Jensen looks at Jared and whispers, “What is she talking about?”
Jared almost bursts out laughing. Then he points at Jensen. “You did that.”
“Did what?”
“Walked in your sleep.”
Jensen looks at him with wide eyes, and shakes his head. “No. No way.”
“Yes, you did.” Jared smiles and nudges at Jensen’s bowl. “But it doesn’t matter. Eat your breakfast now.”
Jensen shakes his head again, pushing the bowl away. “I’m not hungry.” He’s eyeing the bread and cheese and looks as if he's about to reach for them, but he doesn’t. Jared frowns.
Jensen’s weird behavior during meals continues during the next few days. Ever so often he only takes several bites of rolls or bacon or a few spoonfuls of stew. Jared would have been more worried had Jensen not been more normal at the other times of the day but he still talks a mile a minute about Peter’s goats or their blackened noses thanks to the soot from Grandpa’s chimney. And he still makes Andrews and Mrs. Rottenmeier smile and blush with his jokes, still laughs merrily at Jared’s unfunny jokes. And he still teaches Jared to walk.
But Jared can see the sadness in him, too. Jensen has been looking out the windows more and more frequently and his face is paler now compared to when he first came to the house. Mrs. Rottenmeier says it's because Jensen doesn’t go out much. That much is true. Jensen doesn’t go out at all.
Until one day when Jared and Mrs. Rottenmeier are at breakfast, waiting for Jensen. Andrews enters the dining room, saying breathlessly, “Master Jared, Mrs. Rottenmeier. It’s Master Jensen.” He pauses to take a breath. “He won’t wake up. He has a nightmare. And he won’t wake up.”
“No.” Without thinking, Jared turns his wheelchair around, steps down and half-runs, half-limps out of the room in the direction of the stairs. When he gets to the foot of the stairs he turns back, one hand gripping the handrail tightly. “Andrews, help me up, please.”
Looking at the flabbergasted expressions on Mrs. Rottenmeier and Andrews's faces, only then does he realizes what has just happened.
Jared crawls up to Jensen’s side once Andrews has lain him down on the bed. “Oh, Jensen,” he murmurs sadly. Jensen is twisting and turning, talking in his sleep and shivering. Beads of sweat pour out of his pores, his freckles in stark contrast to his ashen face.
Jared gently palms the side of Jensen's face and he cries out in fear, “He’s burning up! Mrs. Rottenmeier-” He turns around but she’s no longer in the room, probably getting them what they need. He turns back to Jensen. “Jensen, you’re going home, I promise. You hang in there, all right? You're going to go home.”
When Mrs. Rottenmeier is back with a bowl of iced water and a small towel, Jared grabs the towel from her, soaks it thoroughly, wringing the cold water out before smoothing it gently over Jensen’s heated temple.
Jared’s tears run down his cheeks as he presses the damp towel over Jensen’s forehead and the rest of his face, repeating the process over and over again.
“Master Jared…”
“What?” he snaps.
“Doctor Garneau is here to check on Jensen.”
Jared’s hand stops in mid air. “Oh, all right.” He shifts a little. “But I’m staying here with Jensen.”
“Of course, Master Jared.”
Silently Jared watches as the family physician checks Jensen’s temperature, listens to his heartbeat with a stethoscope, palpates his stomach. After checking Jensen’s blood pressure and looking into his throat, Doctor Garneau collects his apparatus and put them all back into his black bag.
“Jensen has a high fever,” he says, looking at Jared. “There’s a swelling in his throat and…”
Jared gasps and the doctor smiles a little.
“It’s all right. It’s nothing serious.” Then he turns to Mrs. Rottenmeier. “Just make sure he drinks a lot of water and that his food is soft. A bowl of hot chicken soup is good for him.”
“Jensen hasn’t eaten much lately,” Jared says, almost like an afterthought.
“Hmm, perhaps that’s because his throat hurts.” Doctor Garneau searches into his bag. “I’m giving some antibiotics, all right. Make sure he finishes it in three days. If he doesn’t get any better then, you should call me.”
“Yes, Doctor,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier.
“If he doesn’t get any better, we’ll take him back to the mountains,” Jared speaks again.
The doctor smiles and taps Jared’s cheek softly. “That might be good for him, some fresh mountain air. I think it’s going to be good for you, too, Master Jared.”
Jared ducks shyly, happy that the doctor agrees with him.
“All right, I’m going now.” Doctor Garneau rises to his feet and shakes Mrs. Rottenmeier’s hand. “Give my regard to your father, Jared.”
“Sure, Doctor.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” says Mrs. Rottenmeier. “Andrews, please show the Doctor the door.”
“Absolutely. Right this way, Sir.”
That night Jared continues to stay in Jensen’s room despite the fact that the boy’s awake and looks slightly confused as to why Jared is in his bed.
“Ssh.” Jared smoothes Jensen's hair back. “You’re sick. You need someone to take care of you.” The fact is Jared has been taking care of him the whole day, helping Jensen eat his steaming broth and making sure the boy always has a glass of water beside him.
Jensen’s temperature has decreased significantly after he takes the medicine but Jensen still looks sleepy and tired.
“You want to sleep now?” asks Jared.
Jensen nods, his eyelids already drooping.
“You go sleep then. I’ll be right here with you.”
Jensen makes a low acquiescing sound at the back of his throat and leans in as Jared pulls him in his arms.
Epilogue
“Jensen, look at what Papa gave me as a Christmas present.” Jared proudly shows off his wooden toy plane.
“That’s pretty. It’s almost as pretty as mine.” Jensen shows his, also a toy plane but from a different model.
Listening to their banter, Mr. Padalecki and Jensen’s Grandpa laugh. They pick up their pint of beer at the same time and make a toast.
Andrews and Mrs. Rottenmeier follow suit while looking around them, admiring the sights from up the mountain. Everything is covered with snow, pure white and dazzling and simply beautiful.
They have been having lunch outdoors, savoring the fresh, cool mountain air as well as Grandpa’s famous fresh homemade bread. As promised, Jared had taken Jensen back to his Grandpa’s house and Jensen had gotten a lot better by the time Jared’s father finally returned. Jared has made sure Jensen has enough to eat and he is delighted that the healthy color is back in Jensen’s cheeks.
“Jared, isn’t it time to give your Papa his Christmas gift?” Jensen’s voice brings him out of his reverie. Jared grins.
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
“You have a present? For me?” Jared’s father asks, eyes dancing between Jared and Jensen.
Jared takes Jensen's hand in his, feeling excited. Andrews had carried him all the way up the mountain as that was too difficult for him to handle. But this? He can do this, especially with Jensen by his side.
He looks up at Jensen and they exchange winks. Holding on tightly to Jensen, Jared slowly heaves himself up and as he let go of Jensen's hand, begins walking toward his father, his steps sure and steady.
His father gasps in surprise and looking up, Jared sees the shock disbelief on his face. He stumbles into his father arms where he's tightly embraced.
“Oh, Jared, my boy. This is such a miracle, the best Christmas gift ever.” His voice is muffled by Jared’s shoulder.
“Yes, Papa.” Jared clings to his arms. “But-” He pulls back and fumbles for Jensen’s hand, pulling him in toward them. “-this wouldn’t have happened without Jensen, Papa. If not for him…”
“Jared, come on,” Jensen says, sounding embarrassed. “It's all you, you know. You worked hard for this.”
“Yes, but-”
“Hey, that’s Peter. Peter! Where are the goats? Can we ride on them?” And Jared lets himself be dragged to Jensen's friends and his cattle.
Fin