Fic: "In From the Cold" J2 AU rated-R Ch. 5/?
Jensen is homeless.
Jared's learning.
Jeff is a badass.
Embroiderama is beta and bunny-giver.
Jensen closes his eyes and leans closer to the fire he shares with Whiskey Dan and Little Angie. Not too close though. Not close enough for the flames to touch him. Not close enough for the people to touch him either.
His neck is cold and he cozies down deeper into the jacket’s collar. It smells like the rainbowed cement Jeff rubbed it on. It smells safe again, the motor oil covering the sharp chemical ‘clean’ that Jared had put on it. Jeff hadn’t found Jensen's hat after the men hurt him but he promised a new one. Jensen thinks maybe that’s why Jeff left him here, with people he likes but doesn’t trust. Jeff said he’d come back and he never makes promises he doesn’t keep.
The fire flickers lower and Jensen reaches for more fuel to put on it. They’re burning pizza boxes, a whole stack that Angie found, almost as tall as she is. They open each one before tossing it on the flames. Some still have crusts and even the empty ones smell like spices and salt mixed in with the cardboard when they burn.
He finds most of a slice of pizza in the box and passes it over to Angie. She’s the smallest person he knows that’s not a kid. Her face is sharp like a bird’s and her skin is tight over the bones like the surfaces of her shrunk more than the insides did. Her eyes are bright and hard and see everything. She takes the stiff bread in her bony fingers and tears at the edge of it with her long teeth.
Whiskey Dan protests, “We didn’t know! How could we ever know?” but he’s not talking to anyone there when he says it and his old eyes are staring far away.
Jensen hugs his bad arm against his chest and watches the flames change color as they find the ink in the cardboard. He wants Jeff to be back. He wants to go find his own place for the night. Jeff said stay though. Jeff said it was important.
Figures move through the shadows; Jensen sees them over the fire coming closer. Two men walking side by side. Big men, tall. Jensen stands up and Angie catches his movement and backs away from the fire, from the men.
“It’s just me,” a voice calls, strong and gentle, rough and soft. Jensen wants to touch that voice, feel the contradictions of it with his fingertips. Angie goes back to the fire but Jensen waits. Just me would be one person and this is two. Words of no meaning gather on his tongue, his only defense. He waits until Jeff walks close and he can see the other.
The fear uncoils then because he knows Jared too, likes Jared and trusts him both. Jensen had been in Jared’s place so maybe it’s right that Jared comes to one of his. Jensen sits down again, scooching over to make room for at least one person between him and Angie.
“Hey,” Jared says. “How’re you feeling?” He settles in beside Jensen, looking him over, checking him out.
The sick fear in Jensen's chest changes to a new thing, a fluttering thing like a moth, a humming thing like the little heater from Jared’s place. He understands, so suddenly that he feels dizzy.
Jeff gives people things they need. Jeff gave him to Jared. Jeff gave Jared to him.
The side of Jensen's face twitches, the corner of his mouth pulling towards his ear. He bites the edge of his lower lip to hold it back.
“Do you hurt?” Jared tries again. Jensen wants to answer him, he does, but it’s so scattered to find the right way, to remember the words and what they go with and the order to say them. Speaking sense is so hard and the other words try to slip out of him while he’s trying to find the right ones.
Jeff’s hand settles on Jensen's other shoulder and Jensen realizes he’s been breathing funny, each breath bigger or smaller or shorter than the one before.
“You want me to get rid of him?” Jeff asks, his voice like the low growl of the fenced-in dogs that tell Jensen that they can’t eat him but they would if the gate was open and he should walk wide in respect of that.
Jensen reaches out and grips the cuff of Jared’s coat in his fingertips. No take-backs. No do-overs.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Jeff says and it’s hard to tell if he’s smiling without looking at him.
=========
“You want me to get rid of him?” Jeff asks, and for a second Jared’s scared that he really is doing something wrong, bringing Jensen distress that he wouldn’t have otherwise. Then Jensen reaches out and grabs his sleeve again and no matter what mistakes Jared’s made before, he’s forgiven.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Jeff says. A frown wrinkles his forehead.
That settled, Jared can get back to the important issues. “Jensen,” he says again, and gets the man’s full attention. “Hurts?” Jared asks, hovering his hand over where Jensen's collarbone is so bruised, hovering but not touching. He makes the universal grimace of pain, the owie-face that even three-year-olds recognize.
“Hurts?” Jared asks and motions to Jensen's collarbone again. Jensen grimaces and direct communication is great, even if it’s non-verbal. Jared moves his hand to the worst part of Jensen's ribs. They work like that together, until Jared’s satisfied that nothing new has happened to justify bringing Jensen back to the stress of the clinic.
“Fourteen hundred men,” the bundled up codger by the fire says in a voice filled with despair. “Forever gone but not forgotten never forgotten I swear I swear.” Nobody looks over but Jared.
When the old guy doesn’t follow up his ranting, Jared takes the Tylenol out of his pocket and a bottle of water out of Jensen's backpack and shows him how to swallow the pills. There’s a little more choking and sputtering than Jared’s seen lately but he gets them down and drinks a little water besides
When he’s done everything he can for Jensen's comfort, he looks up at Jeff again. “Can we take a little walk?”
Jeff nods and Jared gently disengages his jacket cuff from Jensen's grip. “I’ll be back,” he promises, talking to Jensen like he understands every word. For all Jared knows, he does.
They step away, far enough to have a private conversation and still keep the little group by the fire within view. Jeff doesn’t offer an opening so Jared is forced to break the ice.
“He hasn’t been out here long, has he? Couple months, tops?”
Jeff rubs at the stubble on jaw. “Showed up around Christmas sometime, yeah. Fucked up six ways to Sunday.”
“He getting better or worse?” Jared asks, trying to feel his way through the situation. He wants to help, to find some way to improve Jensen's life because what he has now isn’t so hot.
“Better,” Jeff answers without hesitation. “Much better, if you believe it.” He pauses. “You think anybody’s still lookin’ for him?” There’s something in Jeff’s voice, a hesitancy, like letting Jensen go is gonna hurt like hell but he’d do it to get Jensen to a safer place.
“I still know cops,” Jared offers. “I could ask around. Maybe take Jensen's fingerprints, see if he turns up anywhere.”
Jeff shakes his head. “No way. What if he’s wanted. What if he’s in trouble or ran away from some place. I don’t want the cops lookin’ at him.”
Jared nods despite his frustration. He considers going around Jeff and doing it anyway but Jeff isn’t asking, he’s telling, and Jared can’t risk Jeff hiding Jensen somewhere that Jared will never find him. Jared might be able to get Jensen locked up for a fourteen day observation, but he’s pretty sure even Jeff’s mammoth claustrophobia wouldn’t stop him from going and getting Jensen, and anyplace Jeff couldn’t get him out of wouldn’t be a place Jared would want him to be in the first place.
“Okay.” His brain scrambles for ideas even as his tone is calm and even. “Okay, how about I go to the cops and say I ran across a guy and I’d like to look at missing persons photos from that time and see if I recognize him. He won’t raise any flags unless I find him there.”
Jeff looks relieved and Jared’s annoyance fades as he realizes he’s offering a resource that the man didn’t have. Of course Jeff can’t go in to the cops and ask about this, and if he tried to do it curbside he’d risk getting picked up himself. It probably never even occurred to him that legal channels were an option.
“That would work,” Jeff says. “You be careful.” Jared figures he’s the only one of Jeff’s friends that isn’t in danger from the police on a daily basis. He feels like the emissary to the outside world, the strange creature who can breathe in the air as well as under water. He wonders if Jeff thinks of him as a friend too, and realizes it doesn’t matter much. They’ll get done what they need to.
“I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m off shift,” he promises.
“You’re a good guy,” Jeff says, “I’m glad I didn’t have to beat your head in.” He turns and walks back to where Jensen and the others are.
Jared watches for a little while from outside the circle of light as Jeff goes through the backpack with Jensen, stuffing most of its contents into Jensen's coat pockets and jeans pockets and the little pocket on his flannel shirt. The rest, the toilet paper and bottles of water and Gatorade, he sets aside while he takes the bag itself and grinds it into the asphalt with his heel, roughing the fabric, staining it and taking the almost-new shine off of it before he repacks it and tucks it in against Jensen's side. Jared watches and he’ll remember the next time he gives Jensen a gift, to make sure it doesn’t look like it’s worth stealing, not to anybody.
When Jeff settles, Jared steps back over, crouching close enough that Jensen can touch him again if he wants to. He can’t help but smile as his sleeve is once again gripped in Jensen's fingers. “I need to go back to work in a minute,” he says directly to Jensen. “If you ever need anything, if you ever need anything at all and you can’t find Jeff, you can come to my work, okay? I’ll tell the others to watch out for you, and if I’m not there, they’ll call me and I’ll come. It might not be right away, but I’ll come, I promise.”
He watches for a reaction, but he feels it first, as Jensen's fingers clench on his sleeve, tightening the fabric around his wrist. Then Jensen leans in, resting his forehead for a moment on Jared’s shoulder as his hand relaxes and Jared is sure his words were understood.
“I’ll come back another time,” Jared promises, and Jensen sits back up and lets his sleeve go. He looks away as Jared stands and as many times as Jared looks back over his shoulder, Jensen never turns to watch him go.
Jared's learning.
Jeff is a badass.
Embroiderama is beta and bunny-giver.
Jensen closes his eyes and leans closer to the fire he shares with Whiskey Dan and Little Angie. Not too close though. Not close enough for the flames to touch him. Not close enough for the people to touch him either.
His neck is cold and he cozies down deeper into the jacket’s collar. It smells like the rainbowed cement Jeff rubbed it on. It smells safe again, the motor oil covering the sharp chemical ‘clean’ that Jared had put on it. Jeff hadn’t found Jensen's hat after the men hurt him but he promised a new one. Jensen thinks maybe that’s why Jeff left him here, with people he likes but doesn’t trust. Jeff said he’d come back and he never makes promises he doesn’t keep.
The fire flickers lower and Jensen reaches for more fuel to put on it. They’re burning pizza boxes, a whole stack that Angie found, almost as tall as she is. They open each one before tossing it on the flames. Some still have crusts and even the empty ones smell like spices and salt mixed in with the cardboard when they burn.
He finds most of a slice of pizza in the box and passes it over to Angie. She’s the smallest person he knows that’s not a kid. Her face is sharp like a bird’s and her skin is tight over the bones like the surfaces of her shrunk more than the insides did. Her eyes are bright and hard and see everything. She takes the stiff bread in her bony fingers and tears at the edge of it with her long teeth.
Whiskey Dan protests, “We didn’t know! How could we ever know?” but he’s not talking to anyone there when he says it and his old eyes are staring far away.
Jensen hugs his bad arm against his chest and watches the flames change color as they find the ink in the cardboard. He wants Jeff to be back. He wants to go find his own place for the night. Jeff said stay though. Jeff said it was important.
Figures move through the shadows; Jensen sees them over the fire coming closer. Two men walking side by side. Big men, tall. Jensen stands up and Angie catches his movement and backs away from the fire, from the men.
“It’s just me,” a voice calls, strong and gentle, rough and soft. Jensen wants to touch that voice, feel the contradictions of it with his fingertips. Angie goes back to the fire but Jensen waits. Just me would be one person and this is two. Words of no meaning gather on his tongue, his only defense. He waits until Jeff walks close and he can see the other.
The fear uncoils then because he knows Jared too, likes Jared and trusts him both. Jensen had been in Jared’s place so maybe it’s right that Jared comes to one of his. Jensen sits down again, scooching over to make room for at least one person between him and Angie.
“Hey,” Jared says. “How’re you feeling?” He settles in beside Jensen, looking him over, checking him out.
The sick fear in Jensen's chest changes to a new thing, a fluttering thing like a moth, a humming thing like the little heater from Jared’s place. He understands, so suddenly that he feels dizzy.
Jeff gives people things they need. Jeff gave him to Jared. Jeff gave Jared to him.
The side of Jensen's face twitches, the corner of his mouth pulling towards his ear. He bites the edge of his lower lip to hold it back.
“Do you hurt?” Jared tries again. Jensen wants to answer him, he does, but it’s so scattered to find the right way, to remember the words and what they go with and the order to say them. Speaking sense is so hard and the other words try to slip out of him while he’s trying to find the right ones.
Jeff’s hand settles on Jensen's other shoulder and Jensen realizes he’s been breathing funny, each breath bigger or smaller or shorter than the one before.
“You want me to get rid of him?” Jeff asks, his voice like the low growl of the fenced-in dogs that tell Jensen that they can’t eat him but they would if the gate was open and he should walk wide in respect of that.
Jensen reaches out and grips the cuff of Jared’s coat in his fingertips. No take-backs. No do-overs.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Jeff says and it’s hard to tell if he’s smiling without looking at him.
=========
“You want me to get rid of him?” Jeff asks, and for a second Jared’s scared that he really is doing something wrong, bringing Jensen distress that he wouldn’t have otherwise. Then Jensen reaches out and grabs his sleeve again and no matter what mistakes Jared’s made before, he’s forgiven.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Jeff says. A frown wrinkles his forehead.
That settled, Jared can get back to the important issues. “Jensen,” he says again, and gets the man’s full attention. “Hurts?” Jared asks, hovering his hand over where Jensen's collarbone is so bruised, hovering but not touching. He makes the universal grimace of pain, the owie-face that even three-year-olds recognize.
“Hurts?” Jared asks and motions to Jensen's collarbone again. Jensen grimaces and direct communication is great, even if it’s non-verbal. Jared moves his hand to the worst part of Jensen's ribs. They work like that together, until Jared’s satisfied that nothing new has happened to justify bringing Jensen back to the stress of the clinic.
“Fourteen hundred men,” the bundled up codger by the fire says in a voice filled with despair. “Forever gone but not forgotten never forgotten I swear I swear.” Nobody looks over but Jared.
When the old guy doesn’t follow up his ranting, Jared takes the Tylenol out of his pocket and a bottle of water out of Jensen's backpack and shows him how to swallow the pills. There’s a little more choking and sputtering than Jared’s seen lately but he gets them down and drinks a little water besides
When he’s done everything he can for Jensen's comfort, he looks up at Jeff again. “Can we take a little walk?”
Jeff nods and Jared gently disengages his jacket cuff from Jensen's grip. “I’ll be back,” he promises, talking to Jensen like he understands every word. For all Jared knows, he does.
They step away, far enough to have a private conversation and still keep the little group by the fire within view. Jeff doesn’t offer an opening so Jared is forced to break the ice.
“He hasn’t been out here long, has he? Couple months, tops?”
Jeff rubs at the stubble on jaw. “Showed up around Christmas sometime, yeah. Fucked up six ways to Sunday.”
“He getting better or worse?” Jared asks, trying to feel his way through the situation. He wants to help, to find some way to improve Jensen's life because what he has now isn’t so hot.
“Better,” Jeff answers without hesitation. “Much better, if you believe it.” He pauses. “You think anybody’s still lookin’ for him?” There’s something in Jeff’s voice, a hesitancy, like letting Jensen go is gonna hurt like hell but he’d do it to get Jensen to a safer place.
“I still know cops,” Jared offers. “I could ask around. Maybe take Jensen's fingerprints, see if he turns up anywhere.”
Jeff shakes his head. “No way. What if he’s wanted. What if he’s in trouble or ran away from some place. I don’t want the cops lookin’ at him.”
Jared nods despite his frustration. He considers going around Jeff and doing it anyway but Jeff isn’t asking, he’s telling, and Jared can’t risk Jeff hiding Jensen somewhere that Jared will never find him. Jared might be able to get Jensen locked up for a fourteen day observation, but he’s pretty sure even Jeff’s mammoth claustrophobia wouldn’t stop him from going and getting Jensen, and anyplace Jeff couldn’t get him out of wouldn’t be a place Jared would want him to be in the first place.
“Okay.” His brain scrambles for ideas even as his tone is calm and even. “Okay, how about I go to the cops and say I ran across a guy and I’d like to look at missing persons photos from that time and see if I recognize him. He won’t raise any flags unless I find him there.”
Jeff looks relieved and Jared’s annoyance fades as he realizes he’s offering a resource that the man didn’t have. Of course Jeff can’t go in to the cops and ask about this, and if he tried to do it curbside he’d risk getting picked up himself. It probably never even occurred to him that legal channels were an option.
“That would work,” Jeff says. “You be careful.” Jared figures he’s the only one of Jeff’s friends that isn’t in danger from the police on a daily basis. He feels like the emissary to the outside world, the strange creature who can breathe in the air as well as under water. He wonders if Jeff thinks of him as a friend too, and realizes it doesn’t matter much. They’ll get done what they need to.
“I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m off shift,” he promises.
“You’re a good guy,” Jeff says, “I’m glad I didn’t have to beat your head in.” He turns and walks back to where Jensen and the others are.
Jared watches for a little while from outside the circle of light as Jeff goes through the backpack with Jensen, stuffing most of its contents into Jensen's coat pockets and jeans pockets and the little pocket on his flannel shirt. The rest, the toilet paper and bottles of water and Gatorade, he sets aside while he takes the bag itself and grinds it into the asphalt with his heel, roughing the fabric, staining it and taking the almost-new shine off of it before he repacks it and tucks it in against Jensen's side. Jared watches and he’ll remember the next time he gives Jensen a gift, to make sure it doesn’t look like it’s worth stealing, not to anybody.
When Jeff settles, Jared steps back over, crouching close enough that Jensen can touch him again if he wants to. He can’t help but smile as his sleeve is once again gripped in Jensen's fingers. “I need to go back to work in a minute,” he says directly to Jensen. “If you ever need anything, if you ever need anything at all and you can’t find Jeff, you can come to my work, okay? I’ll tell the others to watch out for you, and if I’m not there, they’ll call me and I’ll come. It might not be right away, but I’ll come, I promise.”
He watches for a reaction, but he feels it first, as Jensen's fingers clench on his sleeve, tightening the fabric around his wrist. Then Jensen leans in, resting his forehead for a moment on Jared’s shoulder as his hand relaxes and Jared is sure his words were understood.
“I’ll come back another time,” Jared promises, and Jensen sits back up and lets his sleeve go. He looks away as Jared stands and as many times as Jared looks back over his shoulder, Jensen never turns to watch him go.