Underneath the Oak Tree -- Chapter Sixteen
Song Jensen sings is Fire and Rain by James Taylor. You can listen to it/watch it here.
April 15th, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
“Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone. Susanne, the plans they made put an end to you… I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song, I just can’t remember who to send it to. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I’d see you again.”
Martha’s breath caught as she moved towards the front door, pausing just before the large window that overlooked the porch. It was finally a warm day, rare but welcome from the usual chilly April rain, and the morning had been spent throwing open all of the windows to rid the house of the remaining stale winter air.
“Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus? You’ve got to help me make a stand. You’ve just got to see me through another day. My body’s aching and my time is at hand and I won’t make it any other way. Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend… but I’ve always thought that I’d see you again.”
Tears were instant, stinging at the back of her eyes as she watched her grandson rocking in the porch swing, Leigh Ann curled protectively in his arms. His voice was soft, but for once wasn’t filled with pain.
“Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun. Lord knows when the cold wind blows, it’ll turn your head around. Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come. Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain, I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end, I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I’d see you, baby, one more time again, now.
“And we will… right, little one?” Jensen cleared his throat, shifting Leigh Ann’s now sleeping form higher up in his arms. “Just a few more months now and you’ll get to meet your Uncle Jared. He’s going to think you’re the most beautiful baby girl he’s ever seen, I just know it.”
She stood there, listening as Jensen hummed the remaining lines of the song before slipping away from the door, unwilling to risk disturbing them and breaking the spell that seemed to be cast over her grandson. She smiled to herself as she moved back into the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator and pulling out some ham left over from dinner last night. As she was slicing up a fresh loaf of bread to start making sandwiches, Albert came into the kitchen, slipping his hat from his head to hang on the hook, his eyes wide as he met his wife’s over the island.
“Jensen…”
“I know,” Martha replied, smiling and reaching for her husband’s hand, tears once again swimming in her eyes. “I know, I know.” Albert closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Martha’s smaller frame and pulling her tight against his chest.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
April 23rd, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
“Jenna!” Jensen called out, pushing open the barn doors and pausing a second for a response before moving on. He’d gotten Leigh Ann put down for a nap and he hadn’t seen the rest of the kids since breakfast that morning… “Cameron! Kaleb?”
“Jensen!” Gerry caught his attention and he turned, seeing the older man sitting on the front porch with a pipe between his lips. “I think they went down to the creek.”
Jensen waved his thanks and made his way to the creek bed, already hoping that he wouldn’t find the three of them testing out the temperature of the water. It may have been warm lately, Gerry and Jensen starting to work their way through the initial plowing of the field, but the water would be nowhere near warm enough to swim in until at least mid-June.
As he neared the creek, he could hear the babbling of the water over the rocks and the soft laughter of his daughter ringing clear and bright. He found himself smiling, walking faster to get over the crest of the hill to see what they were doing. When he saw them, he inhaled sharply, frozen to the spot.
Jenna was laying in the grass, her arms thrown out wide and her two cousins mirroring her on either side, the three of them staring up at the clouds above them. He couldn’t hear them talking, only heard every time they laughed, but he was hit instantly with the memory of his first summer with Jared so many years ago. He remembered lying between the two Padalecki brothers, listening them talk about their new baby sister and wondering himself what it would be like to have another sibling. Since Josh had gotten his pharmacy job…
He swallowed hard, sinking down into the grass, and watched as the three cousins pointed out different clouds above them, Jenna reaching for both of their hands and holding them tightly as they shared their stories. Somehow Jensen knew that the three of them --Leigh Ann, too-- were going to be okay. Finally taking a shaky breath, Jensen pushed back up to his feet and walked down to the kids, all three of them looking up as they were cast in his shadow.
“Daddy?” Jenna cocked her head to the side, giving him a small smile. “Grandma told us we could come down to the creek as long as we didn’t go into the water.”
“And we didn’t, Uncle Jensen!” Kaleb added, suddenly bending his legs up and hiding his feet from view.
Jensen smiled, knowing that if he were to look, the toes of all of their sneakers would be wet. “It’s a nice day,” he said instead and moved to Cameron’s side, lying down in the grass with them. They were all quiet for a moment, the kids probably wondering what Jensen was doing lounging with them, and he felt guilty that they had to second-guess his actions. He cleared his throat, blinking away the burning in his eyes as he stared at the passing clouds. Suddenly, he pointed to one, causing little Cameron beside him to jump.
“That one looks like a pirate ship, doesn’t it?”
The kids all leaned their heads to the side, trying to see where Jensen’s finger was pointed. "I see it! I see it!" Kaleb shouted, pointing up to it as well. "And there! Do you see the giant squid?!"
"Oh no, it looks like it's going to attack the ship!" The two boys gasped but Jenna was quick to respond.
"Don't worry! My princess bunny will save it." Jensen tried to follow her finger to see this 'princess bunny'. He lifted his head and looked across the three of them, the boys with wide eyes as they imagined the great squid and bunny battle playing out in the sky before them and Jenna with so much confidence that Jensen couldn't fathom questioning it.
"You have to hand it to Princess Bunny, she packs a mean punch."
"She kicks, Daddy." Jenna rolled her eyes but met his smile with one of her own. "Don't you see her large hind legs?"
"Oh… my mistake." Jensen smiled and for the next half-hour they picked out different shapes in the clouds, each one becoming more obscure than the last until Jensen’s own stomach could be heard growling. Jenna giggled, pushing up from the ground and picking up Cameron. The almost three-year-old looked awkward in her arms, just starting to be too big for her to cart around, but she hiked him up higher and the four of them headed back to the farmhouse.
“I’ll make us some sandwiches. Jenna, why don’t you set the table with the boys?”
Jenna nodded her agreement and took Kaleb’s hand, leading the boys into the kitchen for the plates. Jensen was just kicking off his work boots by the door when Martha came around the corner. The expression on her face made Jensen freeze, fingers tangled in the laces of his boots.
“What is it? What happened?” He straightened immediately, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Is Leigh Ann okay? Did something happen to Jared?”
“Jensen…” Martha shook her head, breathing out softly. “Your… father is on the phone.”
Jensen swallowed hard, the good mood he’d been surrounded with over the past month quickly abated, dread washing over him as he remembered his father’s last words. His father had made it up to Vermont, staying in the Seymour’s lodge at the bottom of the mountain, and although he had kept their distance from Jensen and Jenna, as well as Albert and Martha, Alan couldn’t help but sneer parting words at his youngest son.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Jensen.”
Jensen exhaled slowly, passing Jenna’s hand off to his grandmother and watching as they moved towards the old pickup truck before turning around to face his father. Josh was standing with Ella, her hand pressed against his chest to hold him back, both of them watching carefully, waiting.
“Nice to see you too, Alan,” Jensen replied, sighing as he met his father’s angry, bloodshot eyes. If Jensen didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that it was distress, heartbreak over his daughter’s death, but he knew that without Donna around to make sure the man was at least eating, Alan had probably consumed nothing more than an abundance of alcohol, essentially pickling himself. Jensen wondered if he was still working, how he’d gotten the money to make the trip, if he even truly cared to know…
“I mean it, boy. Don’t get too comfortable. You may have twisted Mackenzie’s fragile female mind, gotten Lee to believe you weren’t unbalanced, but I will not sit idly by and watch some faggot raise my grandchildren.” Alan’s hands shook as he held out the papers from his jacket pocket, papers Jensen knew were copies of Mackenzie and Lee’s last will and testament. He swallowed hard, feeling his own hands start to shake as the impact of Alan’s words sunk in.
“It’s not going to happen,” Jensen whispered, voice low. “There’s no way in hell I will allow those kids to go anywhere near you.”
“Well, we’ll just see about that,” Alan hissed back, the smell of whiskey permeating the space between them. “I’m sure any court I go to will find that a couple of fags aren’t ‘capable’ parents. Not to mention, seems like you’re a single faggot right now, hmmm, Jensen? Maybe I can even get Jenna out of it.”
“Over my dead body.”
Jensen hadn’t realized he’d stepped forward, fist clenched and arm raised, until Josh was between them, a heavy, comforting hand on Jensen’s shoulder but tight enough to hold him back. Alan’s eyes widened as he took in his eldest son’s stance, a deliberate supportive presence at Jensen’s side.
“Jensen is the best chance those kids have… we all know that.”
“Oh, you’re suddenly a ‘queer’ supporter? I thought I raised you better than that, Joshua!”
“I don’t know about that,” Josh replied, stiffening beside Jensen. “I do know that family means something and Jensen is the family that has always been there for me. I would trust Jensen with Christopher and Lynn over you, and I know that’s exactly why Mackenzie chose Jensen as Godparent to her children, as well as Jared.”
Alan’s entire body was shaking now, voice stuck in his throat as he gaped at his two sons.
Jensen felt his throat thicken as he allowed his brother to pull him back and lead him away leaving their father standing there. Alone.
As they reached the car, Alan’s voice rang out over the now silent cemetery, just as cold as the snow and ice on the ground, “This isn’t over yet, Jensen!”
“Ca-Can you keep the kids in the kitchen?” He hated that his voice shook, hated that even the thought of his father coming in and ripping away the last link he had to Mackenzie, the most important reasons he had for living, had his heart racing and his stomach dropping. Josh had assured him, repeatedly over the two days he and his family were in Vermont, that the thought of a judge granting Alan Ackles custody of any children was comical. But only the radio silence had given Jensen any comfort. And now…
“Of course. If you need me or your grandfather…”
Jensen nodded, letting his grandmother pull him into a hug, her arms a comforting, warm weight around his shoulders, and then he slipped past her, heading into the hallway where the phone was waiting. Jensen lifted the phone, clearing his throat to let Alan know he was there, and he held his breath as he waited.
“Took long enough,” Alan grunted, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down Jensen’s spine.
“What do you want,” Jensen asked, forcing his voice to keep steady. He could feel his pulse, a strong thrum in his throat and he focused on counting the beats, focused on keeping himself grounded. God, he wished Jared was here…
“Just a courtesy call to let you know that you’ll be seeing me soon. I was wondering if Jenna would like her own room, or if she would like to share one with the babe?”
Jensen swallowed hard, his hand clutching the phone, the receiver shaking against the shell of his ear.
“You-You are not taking any of the kids, do you hear me?”
Alan laughed then, causing bile to churn in Jensen’s stomach, his heartbeat racing faster. “Oh, boy, I think that I am. I take it you haven’t gotten word from my lawyer yet? Shame really, though no matter how long you have to prepare, no judge is going to let a pair of fairies and some convoluted patchwork of a family to take care of those kids.”
“I suppose an abusive, inebriated son of a bitch is better suited?” Jensen hissed, his lips pressed against the mouthpiece, his fingers tightening further as if he could reach through the phone and wrap them around his father’s throat.
“I don’t know where I went wrong with you Jensen, I gave you everything. I raised you so much better than--”
“The only thing you taught me, Father, was how not to parent. You tried to teach me how to pickle myself into an early grave, how to lose my entire family, how to abuse and mistreat my spouse and children and--”
“How dare you speak to me like this!” Alan roared, his voice sharp, ringing through the phone. Jensen laughed, a short clipped sound as he realized that he wasn’t scared, not of Alan, not anymore. Now? Now, he was mad.
“I owe you nothing, Alan. If it weren’t for Gram and Gramps? I would be disgusted to be named an Ackles, to even be associated with you. You’re poison, Dad. And you will never get those kids, do you hear me? Each and every one of them are mine, they are my children and I will protect them until the last goddamn breath I breathe!” Jensen yelled the last lines down into the mouthpiece, slammed the handset down hard enough to knock the phone off its place on the wall, and stood there staring down as the receiver rocked on the floor.
“Daddy?” a soft voice seemed louder than it should be in the hallway and Jensen turned to see Jenna at the end, her back towards the kitchen and Martha standing behind her, a hand pressed to her mouth. “Daddy?” Jenna asked again, her voice breaking and Jensen moved quickly, falling to his knees before her and drawing his daughter into his arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweet girl,” he whispered, rocking Jenna who was clinging to his neck, arms and legs wrapped around him like she hadn’t done since she was eight. Hiding behind Martha’s legs, the boys stood with wide eyes and Jensen opened up an arm, and immediately the two boys were falling against him and Jenna’s back.
“We don’t wanna go away…” Kaleb mouthed against Jensen’s jacket and Jensen tightened his hold around them all.
“None of you will be going anywhere, do you hear me? I promise.” Jensen looked up, Martha’s eyes shining with tears but showing the same determination that he himself felt, and he knew that this would not be a battle easily won… but they would do it. Alan had already had his chance at a family and he destroyed that. He would not destroy Jensen’s family.
May 18th, 1971
Landstuhl, Germany
Jared let his eyes fall closed, leaning his head back against the back of the chair he was sitting in.
He was tired. He turned his head, looking at Dionne who was staring straight ahead, his neck hanging at an awkward angle and it took a moment to realize that he was asleep, sitting up. He snorted, turning his attention back to his lap.
They’d been up for thirty six hours now, had trekked their way through the jungle to their extraction point, gunshots and the smell of fire and the sound of screams bleeding out into the night, followed them as they moved. They were old memories, anything but distant as they echoed in all of their minds.
They’d gone in as eight. Dionne, Smith, Johnson. Young, Kent and Hemming. Murray... Now they were heading home as four, only half of their squad, half of their family, because that’s what each of them had become. He could picture them all even better than he could Jensen. God, Jensen…
Jared swallowed hard, his stomach twisting and he suddenly felt nauseous. He hadn’t heard from Jensen in months… mail had been held, unable to get to their location, and he missed his husband more than anything in the entire world. He missed lying beside him, legs and arms tangled in the heated mess of their bed. He missed spending the evenings on the porch, listening to Jensen strum on his guitar, his voice warm and deep, coursing its way through Jared’s veins, through his whole body until all he could hear, feel, was Jensen.
But… Jared exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms over his stomach and fighting the urge to draw a knee up to his chest. What if… what if Jensen changed his mind? What if he decided while Jared was gone that a life with Jared wasn’t one that he wanted? What if, once he knew the things that had tainted Jared’s mind and body, he decided he didn’t--
“Sergeant Padalecki!” Jared’s eyes snapped alertly upward, just as he shot up to his feet.
“Yes, Sergeant!” Jared answered, stepping away from his chair. His three men shifted behind him. The Master Sergeant waved Jared forward, turning and disappearing back through the door he’d come through, and Jared was quick to follow after him. The man was holding open a door to an office, pointing towards a phone.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Jared nodded to him, taking a seat and picking up the receiver. “Good evening, Sir.”
“Sergeant Padalecki,” Commander Morrison’s voice came over the line, a slight crackle in the background, and Jared leaned forward, covering his other ear with his free hand. “I trust you and your platoon are well?”
Jared’s thoughts quickly went to Chad and Hemming, hopefully somewhere in this hospital, and then to Young and Kent. He cleared his throat. “Yes, Sir. Eager to be heading home, Sir.”
“I’d imagine Sergeant.” A pause, more crackling. “We are waiting for a second platoon to get to Landstuhl, then I’ll give word to get you boys home. We’ll have the 196th all back stateside by the end of the month.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jared replied, a small smile on his lips.
“Because I like you so much, Padalecki, I’m giving you a heads-up to get your boys ready. Expect an award ceremony when you get back. You and your boys have performed exemplary work, bringing down three enemy squads. Nixon himself would be tickled pink,” the commander chuckled and Jared found himself sighing.
“Sir…” He paused, letting his eyes fall closed.
“Well, spit it out, Sergeant.”
“Sir… my men are… We have yet to hear news about Murray and Hemming and my men and I are all anxious to know…” Jared felt his heartbeat pick up, the silence on the other line felt like a vice around his throat, slowly cutting off the air flow to his lungs. He suddenly felt like it was a struggle to breathe, the silence on the other end making him sick.
“Hemming has been discharged, already back home with his family. As for Murray...“ Jared could hear papers shuffling on the other line and he held his breath. “Murray is still at Landstuhl. He hasn’t been taken off the ventilator.”
“Thank you, Sir. My men will be pleased to hear that Hemming is home.” They continued their conversation a few minutes longer. Jared listened to Morrison praise him and his squad once again before he hung up and sank back into the chair. Silently he replayed the phone call in his mind, feeling somewhat dazed as he considered the upcoming events. After a few moments he pushed off the seat, legs shaking as he moved to the door and back out into the waiting room where the rest of his men were anxiously waiting for him.
May 20th, 1971
Landstuhl, Germany
Jared swallowed hard, adjusting his army fatigue jacket and making sure that the buttons were straight, no creases or wrinkles were in the fabric. He was being foolish, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from checking his reflection in the glass pane of the door. One more check added one more minute, one more minute added one more false hope that this would be over, just a nightmare, that he wouldn’t be walking into a room where the only other person--other than Jensen-- who truly knew him lay wounded, lay… dying.
Jared laid his palm flat against the heavy wood door and pushed, holding his breath as the door made a groan of protest before swinging slowly open. The soft, steady beeping of the monitors hooked up to Chad’s body was the first sound he heard, then the whoosh, whoosh of the ventilator. He stared at the bed in the center of the room, stark white sheets hardly a contrast to the chalky tone of Chad’s skin. With each whoosh, the blankets rose and fell, the machine forcing Chad’s lungs into action. Jared closed his eyes, tried to picture the red flushed cheeks of Chad laughing out in the jungle, his legs kicked over Jared’s lap as he smoked a cigarette and won more smokes from the guys with each hand of poker.
“Excuse me please, Sergeant.” A nurse slipped into the room behind him, nudging Jared’s arm to move. He stood to the side, an arm’s length away from Chad’s bed, and watched as she picked up the chart hanging from the foot of the bed, made a few notes, and then moved to the various machines and adjusted their knobs.
Jared watched her, her moves swift but carefully efficient, the tenderness she used on a man whom she’s probably never heard speak twisted something deep inside of Jared. When she moved to leave, he stopped her. “Miss… Please…” He prayed for his voice to stay strong. “How…? When will he…?”
She smiled gently and Jared wished he’d never stopped her, wish he’d never seen the sadness clouding her eyes or the pity on her face. “He’s very sick, Sergeant. We are doing everything we can… but Sergeant Murray has a serious pneumococcal infection.”
“What does that mean?” Jared asked, watching as a multitude of responses played out over her face. Finally, she settled for another small smile and stepped forward, placing her hand gently on his arm.
“Are you a praying man, Sergeant Padalecki?”
“Not really, ma’am, no,” he answered honestly. “Only when times are real hard.”
“Well, I’ve been praying every night for Sergeant Murray,” she said softly, giving his arm a squeeze. “I’m sure if he has a few more people praying for him, somehow… he’ll pull through.”
Jared nodded, let himself lean into the comfort of her touch for a moment, and then he was left alone with the warm body of his best friend and the sounds of the machines keeping him alive. With a few steps Jared was at the bedside, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. He reached out seeking Chad’s upturned palm, wrapped his hand gently around it before giving it a squeeze. He knew what Chad would say if he could see Jared reaching for his hand, knew he would joke that Jared already had a good man back home and he couldn’t be selfish, couldn’t have two.
“You son of a bitch,” Jared whispered, blinking back the stinging of tears in his eyes. “You better pull through this Murray, do you hear me? You better wake up and get your fucking ass home, you got that?” Jared squeezed his hand again, the beeping the only response he received. He stared down at Chad’s face, eyelashes still against his cheeks and it seemed unnatural, unreal. “You son of a bitch...”
Jared closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. For a few more minutes he sat quietly then he began to speak to his unconscious friend regaling him with descriptions of the gorgeous nurses working here and about how anxious they were to meet the real Chad. He reminded him that there were thousands of girls back home that would love to welcome a war hero. He continued to talk about all the good things waiting for them back home until his voice grew hoarse and whispery quiet. Then he just sat, offering the strength of his silent presence.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, sharing the stillness with Chad, his prayer like a silent chant for Chad to just wake up, to open his goddamn eyes, to move. The nurse was back, her hand light on Jared’s shoulder but commanding as she pushed him to his feet, giving him a sad smile as she steered him towards the door.
“We need to freshen him up a bit. And you look like you need some sleep. You can come back and visit with him tomorrow, Sergeant.”
Jared nodded, looking back through the glass window at Chad’s still form and exhaled slowly. He didn’t tell her that he wasn’t sleeping, couldn’t sleep without seeing all of their faces in his dreams, bloodied and burning under the onslaught of gunfire or that Chad was always at the forefront, the first bloodied form he saw. He didn’t tell her that tomorrow they would be leaving, that once again he’d failed Chad, didn’t tell her that he blamed himself for Chad lying in the hospital bed unmoving and silent. He didn’t tell her anything, just nodded once more and slipped down the hallway, the silence of the hospital halls threatening to break him.
As if he weren’t already broken.
June 16th, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
Jensen couldn’t sit still.
Inside of the house he could hear Jenna chatting excitedly to her cousins, telling them everything she had planned for her Papa and how much fun they would have now that he was finally home.
Home. Jared was coming home.
Jensen shifted his position on the porch swing, bouncing Leigh Ann slightly in his arms. The six month old was happily playing with her foot and he met her crystal-bright green eyes with a smile. It both pained him and delighted him that her eyes had finally turned from blue to green. Along with the near white curls of blonde hair atop her head…she was going to look just like Mackenzie. She started babbling, releasing her foot and clasping her tiny hands in front of her body and Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.
“I know, little one… I’m excited too. I think you’re really going to like him.” Leigh Ann giggled again and Jensen rocked them both. He looked around the farm and wondered if it would look any different to Jared… At the end of last summer they’d painted the barn and Gerry had helped him replace the porch since the wood had begun rotting underneath. He briefly wondered if Jared would be upset that they did those things without him, but shook the thought away. He’d written to Jared about the things they were doing, probably bored his husband to death with the trivial duties of everyday life. They’d gotten a newer, more updated tractor, Jenna had dug her own plot in the side yard for a little garden of her own, and there were more kids’ toys strewn about the front yard than ever before.
Jensen just hoped that Jared would walk up to the farmhouse and think it still looked like home.
Inside he heard a pot slam down and he jumped along with Leigh Ann in his arms. Jenna called out, asking her Grammy if she was okay, and Jensen relaxed as soon as he heard Martha’s response. Part of him wondered if he should head inside and offer to help Sherri and his grandmother out -- they’d been working hard all morning preparing enough food for the entire army, never mind just their family. But as Leigh Ann started squirming, upset that his attention had been drawn elsewhere, he determined that he was most helpful just sitting out here, out of the way.
Waiting. Anxiously. For the bus to come and bring Jared home.
Jensen had missed the phone call yesterday morning as he was doing his milking rounds and part of him was jealous that Sherri had gotten to hear Jared’s voice first. She’d come out to the barn, tears in her eyes, and thrown her arms around Jensen, telling him that tomorrow Jared would be coming home. The Commander of the 196th had decided that they would be driving everyone home, not wanting the families to try and get through the protesters that had united outside of Fort Devens or risk the safety of the soldiers trying to get out.
Jensen wanted to scream every time he saw the news, the picketers and protesters, angry and blaming men who had no choice in the matter. Jared sure as hell hadn’t… Jensen had his own thoughts about the war, about the men that were putting their lives on the line either voluntarily or drafted, and he had to force himself to bite his tongue every time he was in the town and caught wind of someone speaking ill about the returned soldiers and the war. He was glad that Jared already had a home, a job, a life and felt his heart ache for the boys returning who didn’t.
It felt like hours that Jensen had been sitting there rocking Leigh Ann, stopping once to feed her some pureed chicken and peas. Jenna and the boys had joined him after their own lunch and all three of the kids were lounging on the porch, Jenna’s feet dangling over the edge and the boys drawing in the thin layer of dirt on the wood. Jenna heard it first.
“Papa,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. Jensen almost asked her what she said, and then he heard it too. The rumbling of a bus engine, the revving as it climbed its way up the hill, and then he saw it. He pushed out of the chair, his heart pounding loud in his ears, his stomach twisting, his skin suddenly feeling too tight and too hot. He was going to vomit. He was going to cry. He felt himself shaking and Leigh Ann was gently extracted from his arms, taken by Martha or Sherri or… God, Jared was here. Jared was home.
The bus stopped, its brakes squealing in protest. And then Jensen was stumbling down from the porch, Jenna’s hand clutched in his own and he could tell she was forcing herself not to run. They waited, a few feet from the roadway, standing in the dirt driveway and staring up at the huge shining door, hearts pounding in unison, Jenna swallowing thickly and twisting her shoe into the dirt. The door popped open and then Jared was there… moving clumsily down the steps as his duffel caught along the way.
He was thin, skin darker than it had ever been on the farm, his hair still short and cropped close under the brim of his hat. Jensen gasped, staring, and then Jared smiled, flashing all of his teeth and his dimples and Jensen melted. The bus driver slammed the door shut and the big bus rumbled on down the road just as Jenna broke free with a screech, launching herself across the last few feet of the driveway and into Jared’s waiting arms.
“Papa! Papa!” Jenna was sobbing and Jared lifted her up, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in, holding her close as he rocked her back and forth. “Papa, I missed you so, so, so much.”
Jared peeked out over her shoulder and Jensen realized he’d moved, he was standing beside them. Jared smiled, shifted Jenna to his side and reached for Jensen’s hand. “I missed you too, both of you. God...”
Jensen tried to speak, the sound stuck in his throat, but it didn’t matter because then he was in Jared’s arms, his skin on fire from where Jared was touching him. Jenna and Jensen were both pressed tight against him and he was whispering to them how much he missed them, how much he loved them, how glad he was to be home.
It seemed like forever, but not nearly long enough, and then Jared released them, reaching down for his duffel bag. Jenna was still clinging to him and he held the duffel bag beneath her, reaching down to thread his fingers through Jensen’s as he led them forward so he could greet the rest of the family.
Sherri was crying, clung to Jared almost as long as Jensen had. The boys were shy but quick to tell Jared about everything they’d done so far this summer, inviting him to help them build their tree fort down by the creek, asking him to go fishing with them. Gerry and Albert were warm in their greeting, telling Jared they were so glad to have him back, that things weren’t the same without him. Martha took his bag and told him to go wash up so she could begin to fatten him up again.
Now that Jared had said his hellos, he gave Jensen a small, sad smile and Jensen was immediately on guard, watching as his husband silently took in things around the house as he was led into the dining room and pushed into a chair. Martha served their lunch, piling Jared’s plate high with food, pouring him a glass of Albert’s best Scotch, and Jensen watched as his husband did more staring and picking at his food, taking a few moments to answer when a question was thrown his way. Every few minutes though, he would look up, meet Jensen’s eyes and smile in the same way that had always melted Jensen’s heart.
“Uncle Jared, did you get to kill any bad guys?” Kaleb asked, childlike excitement in his eyes. The room fell silent.
“Kaleb,” Jensen cleared his throat after a moment, waiting for the boy's green eyes to move towards his. “We don’t ask questions like that. It’s not polite, okay? In fact, let’s not talk about that at all. Why don’t you tell Uncle Jared about the baby frogs down by the cattle pond.”
Kaleb shrugged it off and launched into an exuberant story about the tadpoles he’d seen, but the room was changed, a blanket saturated in awkwardness and gloom nearly suffocating as it slowly pressed down on them all. Just as Cameron joined in to tell about the frogs, Jared pushed back from the table, stopping conversation again.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. Thank you for dinner, Martha. I think I… I need to go and lay down for a bit.” Jared’s movements were jerky as he walked away from the table, reaching down for his duffle bag and they all listened to his boots as they clumped their way up the stairs and crossed into the bedroom. Jensen’s eyes flicked over to Albert’s, his grandfather staring at Jared’s empty seat with sadness in his eyes.
“It will just take some time, Son,” Gerry said from beside him, his hand warm on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen nodded, then pushed back as well.
“I’m just going to make sure that… he’s got a clean towel, in case he wants to shower.” No one replied as he made his way up the stairs, footsteps much quieter than the heavy, combat boots Jared had been wearing. When he reached the closed bedroom door he hesitated, staring at the knob. He knew he could push it open, it was his bedroom as well, but he was suddenly terrified at what he would find if he did so.
He remembered how his Dad had been, quiet and pensive, a short fuse that led him quite readily to violence. Jensen was suddenly six years old again as he lifted his hand and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a thump and then footsteps and he froze hand still on the doorknob as Jared ripped the door open. They stood there, staring at each other, Jared taking huge, gasping breaths as he looked down at Jensen.
“Jared…” Jensen whispered and then Jared fell against him, arms wrapped tightly around Jensen’s body, lips crushed hot and hard against Jensen’s mouth, fingers digging almost painfully into his shoulder blades. He gasped, Jared swallowing the sound as he pulled Jensen forward, nearly slamming the door shut behind them and then pushing Jensen back against it. “Fuck, Jared…”
“I missed you, I missed you so much,” Jared whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this...”
“Jared, what are you talking about?” Jensen asked, reaching for Jared’s arms. “Of course you do!”
But then the other man moved away, stepping back quickly until his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he collapsed onto it, leaning down low over his knees and dropping his head into his hands.
“Jared?”
Jared was silent, his shoulders and his head shaking slowly in his hands. “I’m so tainted, Jensen… I don’t belong here anymore…” he finally whispered, lifting his head but continuing to stare down at his hands. His hands were trembling and Jensen slowly moved forward, kneeling before Jared and looking up into the wild, tortured eyes of the man he loved. Jared was falling apart before him and Jensen was terrified, terrified that this was the beginning, this was how it happened. He wondered if his father had started this way…
Jensen was surprised when his own hands were steady as he lifted them and placed them in Jared’s. Jared hissed, pained that Jensen was touching him, touching his hands, but he didn’t pull away.
“Jared, look at me. Don’t say that. This is your home… of course you belong here.” Slowly, Jared’s eyes drew up, glassy and unfocused, his fingers twitching beneath Jensen’s palms. “Breathe, Jared. Please, baby.”
Jared let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders and body nearly collapsing with the exhale and Jensen moved, collecting Jared in his arms once again, sliding up onto the bed so he was on his knees and could draw Jared against his chest. He held onto Jared, holding him as he trembled in Jensen’s arms until finally he was still, the only movement was his breath, hot against Jensen’s throat and the rise and fall of his throat.
“Come on,” Jensen urged Jared to his feet, Jared letting himself be moved. He stood, almost too straight, and Jensen wondered how long it would take for Jared to learn to relax again, to let his shoulders be comfortable instead of straight. He carefully undid all the buttons on Jared’s uniform shirt, pushing the fabric down off of Jared’s shoulders and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss to Jared’s lips. Then he gently slid the sleeves down his long arms and off each of his wrists, kissing Jared’s fingers before folding the shirt carefully over the footboard. He unbuttoned Jared’s pants, unzipping them as he leaned forward and kissed Jared’s throat, tugging the pants far too easily down Jared’s thighs as Jensen sank to his knees. He untied both of his boots, slipping them off before freeing Jared of the pants. He folded those too, putting them with the shirt, lining up the boots under them.
“Arms...”
Jared complied, lifting his arms over his head and letting Jensen pull his undershirt off, fingers skimming against Jared’s heated skin. He tossed the shirt into the corner of the room and then moved for Jared’s boxers, Jared using his shoulders as he lifted each of his legs. He kissed Jared’s chest, now bare and he shivered against the chill of the room. Jensen moved to their dresser, coming back with one of his oldest t-shirts, the fabric thin and worn and comfortable. Jared held it between his fingers rubbing it softly, a soft gasp leaving his lips before he was tugging it on and accepting the fresh pair of underwear from Jensen’s outstretched hand.
“Come on, Jay,” Jensen whispered, taking Jared’s hand and tugging him back over to the bed. He pulled the covers back, Jared watching him silently, and only when Jensen stripped to his boxers and climbed into the bed did Jared follow. Jensen sighed softly, pulling Jared back so they were facing each other, Jared’s breath almost too hot against his face, their legs tangled and Jensen’s arms around Jared’s shoulders.
“Jared,” Jensen whispered, waiting until Jared’s eyes met his. He smiled softly, reaching to cup Jared’s face, brushing a thumb over his thumb. “You’re home, you’re safe.” Jared shivered, his eyes falling closed as he leaned into Jensen’s touch, his hands tightening on Jensen’s waist. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Jared whispered back, swallowing thickly. Jensen ran his hand back through Jared’s hair, closing the distance between them to kiss Jared once more before holding onto him tighter. He let Jared’s steady breathing and the heat from his body lull him to sleep, his last conscious thought was that being in Jared’s arm, it was he that was truly home.
April 15th, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
“Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone. Susanne, the plans they made put an end to you… I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song, I just can’t remember who to send it to. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I’d see you again.”
Martha’s breath caught as she moved towards the front door, pausing just before the large window that overlooked the porch. It was finally a warm day, rare but welcome from the usual chilly April rain, and the morning had been spent throwing open all of the windows to rid the house of the remaining stale winter air.
“Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus? You’ve got to help me make a stand. You’ve just got to see me through another day. My body’s aching and my time is at hand and I won’t make it any other way. Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend… but I’ve always thought that I’d see you again.”
Tears were instant, stinging at the back of her eyes as she watched her grandson rocking in the porch swing, Leigh Ann curled protectively in his arms. His voice was soft, but for once wasn’t filled with pain.
“Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun. Lord knows when the cold wind blows, it’ll turn your head around. Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come. Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain, I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end, I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I’d see you, baby, one more time again, now.
“And we will… right, little one?” Jensen cleared his throat, shifting Leigh Ann’s now sleeping form higher up in his arms. “Just a few more months now and you’ll get to meet your Uncle Jared. He’s going to think you’re the most beautiful baby girl he’s ever seen, I just know it.”
She stood there, listening as Jensen hummed the remaining lines of the song before slipping away from the door, unwilling to risk disturbing them and breaking the spell that seemed to be cast over her grandson. She smiled to herself as she moved back into the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator and pulling out some ham left over from dinner last night. As she was slicing up a fresh loaf of bread to start making sandwiches, Albert came into the kitchen, slipping his hat from his head to hang on the hook, his eyes wide as he met his wife’s over the island.
“Jensen…”
“I know,” Martha replied, smiling and reaching for her husband’s hand, tears once again swimming in her eyes. “I know, I know.” Albert closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Martha’s smaller frame and pulling her tight against his chest.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
April 23rd, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
“Jenna!” Jensen called out, pushing open the barn doors and pausing a second for a response before moving on. He’d gotten Leigh Ann put down for a nap and he hadn’t seen the rest of the kids since breakfast that morning… “Cameron! Kaleb?”
“Jensen!” Gerry caught his attention and he turned, seeing the older man sitting on the front porch with a pipe between his lips. “I think they went down to the creek.”
Jensen waved his thanks and made his way to the creek bed, already hoping that he wouldn’t find the three of them testing out the temperature of the water. It may have been warm lately, Gerry and Jensen starting to work their way through the initial plowing of the field, but the water would be nowhere near warm enough to swim in until at least mid-June.
As he neared the creek, he could hear the babbling of the water over the rocks and the soft laughter of his daughter ringing clear and bright. He found himself smiling, walking faster to get over the crest of the hill to see what they were doing. When he saw them, he inhaled sharply, frozen to the spot.
Jenna was laying in the grass, her arms thrown out wide and her two cousins mirroring her on either side, the three of them staring up at the clouds above them. He couldn’t hear them talking, only heard every time they laughed, but he was hit instantly with the memory of his first summer with Jared so many years ago. He remembered lying between the two Padalecki brothers, listening them talk about their new baby sister and wondering himself what it would be like to have another sibling. Since Josh had gotten his pharmacy job…
He swallowed hard, sinking down into the grass, and watched as the three cousins pointed out different clouds above them, Jenna reaching for both of their hands and holding them tightly as they shared their stories. Somehow Jensen knew that the three of them --Leigh Ann, too-- were going to be okay. Finally taking a shaky breath, Jensen pushed back up to his feet and walked down to the kids, all three of them looking up as they were cast in his shadow.
“Daddy?” Jenna cocked her head to the side, giving him a small smile. “Grandma told us we could come down to the creek as long as we didn’t go into the water.”
“And we didn’t, Uncle Jensen!” Kaleb added, suddenly bending his legs up and hiding his feet from view.
Jensen smiled, knowing that if he were to look, the toes of all of their sneakers would be wet. “It’s a nice day,” he said instead and moved to Cameron’s side, lying down in the grass with them. They were all quiet for a moment, the kids probably wondering what Jensen was doing lounging with them, and he felt guilty that they had to second-guess his actions. He cleared his throat, blinking away the burning in his eyes as he stared at the passing clouds. Suddenly, he pointed to one, causing little Cameron beside him to jump.
“That one looks like a pirate ship, doesn’t it?”
The kids all leaned their heads to the side, trying to see where Jensen’s finger was pointed. "I see it! I see it!" Kaleb shouted, pointing up to it as well. "And there! Do you see the giant squid?!"
"Oh no, it looks like it's going to attack the ship!" The two boys gasped but Jenna was quick to respond.
"Don't worry! My princess bunny will save it." Jensen tried to follow her finger to see this 'princess bunny'. He lifted his head and looked across the three of them, the boys with wide eyes as they imagined the great squid and bunny battle playing out in the sky before them and Jenna with so much confidence that Jensen couldn't fathom questioning it.
"You have to hand it to Princess Bunny, she packs a mean punch."
"She kicks, Daddy." Jenna rolled her eyes but met his smile with one of her own. "Don't you see her large hind legs?"
"Oh… my mistake." Jensen smiled and for the next half-hour they picked out different shapes in the clouds, each one becoming more obscure than the last until Jensen’s own stomach could be heard growling. Jenna giggled, pushing up from the ground and picking up Cameron. The almost three-year-old looked awkward in her arms, just starting to be too big for her to cart around, but she hiked him up higher and the four of them headed back to the farmhouse.
“I’ll make us some sandwiches. Jenna, why don’t you set the table with the boys?”
Jenna nodded her agreement and took Kaleb’s hand, leading the boys into the kitchen for the plates. Jensen was just kicking off his work boots by the door when Martha came around the corner. The expression on her face made Jensen freeze, fingers tangled in the laces of his boots.
“What is it? What happened?” He straightened immediately, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Is Leigh Ann okay? Did something happen to Jared?”
“Jensen…” Martha shook her head, breathing out softly. “Your… father is on the phone.”
Jensen swallowed hard, the good mood he’d been surrounded with over the past month quickly abated, dread washing over him as he remembered his father’s last words. His father had made it up to Vermont, staying in the Seymour’s lodge at the bottom of the mountain, and although he had kept their distance from Jensen and Jenna, as well as Albert and Martha, Alan couldn’t help but sneer parting words at his youngest son.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Jensen.”
Jensen exhaled slowly, passing Jenna’s hand off to his grandmother and watching as they moved towards the old pickup truck before turning around to face his father. Josh was standing with Ella, her hand pressed against his chest to hold him back, both of them watching carefully, waiting.
“Nice to see you too, Alan,” Jensen replied, sighing as he met his father’s angry, bloodshot eyes. If Jensen didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that it was distress, heartbreak over his daughter’s death, but he knew that without Donna around to make sure the man was at least eating, Alan had probably consumed nothing more than an abundance of alcohol, essentially pickling himself. Jensen wondered if he was still working, how he’d gotten the money to make the trip, if he even truly cared to know…
“I mean it, boy. Don’t get too comfortable. You may have twisted Mackenzie’s fragile female mind, gotten Lee to believe you weren’t unbalanced, but I will not sit idly by and watch some faggot raise my grandchildren.” Alan’s hands shook as he held out the papers from his jacket pocket, papers Jensen knew were copies of Mackenzie and Lee’s last will and testament. He swallowed hard, feeling his own hands start to shake as the impact of Alan’s words sunk in.
“It’s not going to happen,” Jensen whispered, voice low. “There’s no way in hell I will allow those kids to go anywhere near you.”
“Well, we’ll just see about that,” Alan hissed back, the smell of whiskey permeating the space between them. “I’m sure any court I go to will find that a couple of fags aren’t ‘capable’ parents. Not to mention, seems like you’re a single faggot right now, hmmm, Jensen? Maybe I can even get Jenna out of it.”
“Over my dead body.”
Jensen hadn’t realized he’d stepped forward, fist clenched and arm raised, until Josh was between them, a heavy, comforting hand on Jensen’s shoulder but tight enough to hold him back. Alan’s eyes widened as he took in his eldest son’s stance, a deliberate supportive presence at Jensen’s side.
“Jensen is the best chance those kids have… we all know that.”
“Oh, you’re suddenly a ‘queer’ supporter? I thought I raised you better than that, Joshua!”
“I don’t know about that,” Josh replied, stiffening beside Jensen. “I do know that family means something and Jensen is the family that has always been there for me. I would trust Jensen with Christopher and Lynn over you, and I know that’s exactly why Mackenzie chose Jensen as Godparent to her children, as well as Jared.”
Alan’s entire body was shaking now, voice stuck in his throat as he gaped at his two sons.
Jensen felt his throat thicken as he allowed his brother to pull him back and lead him away leaving their father standing there. Alone.
As they reached the car, Alan’s voice rang out over the now silent cemetery, just as cold as the snow and ice on the ground, “This isn’t over yet, Jensen!”
“Ca-Can you keep the kids in the kitchen?” He hated that his voice shook, hated that even the thought of his father coming in and ripping away the last link he had to Mackenzie, the most important reasons he had for living, had his heart racing and his stomach dropping. Josh had assured him, repeatedly over the two days he and his family were in Vermont, that the thought of a judge granting Alan Ackles custody of any children was comical. But only the radio silence had given Jensen any comfort. And now…
“Of course. If you need me or your grandfather…”
Jensen nodded, letting his grandmother pull him into a hug, her arms a comforting, warm weight around his shoulders, and then he slipped past her, heading into the hallway where the phone was waiting. Jensen lifted the phone, clearing his throat to let Alan know he was there, and he held his breath as he waited.
“Took long enough,” Alan grunted, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down Jensen’s spine.
“What do you want,” Jensen asked, forcing his voice to keep steady. He could feel his pulse, a strong thrum in his throat and he focused on counting the beats, focused on keeping himself grounded. God, he wished Jared was here…
“Just a courtesy call to let you know that you’ll be seeing me soon. I was wondering if Jenna would like her own room, or if she would like to share one with the babe?”
Jensen swallowed hard, his hand clutching the phone, the receiver shaking against the shell of his ear.
“You-You are not taking any of the kids, do you hear me?”
Alan laughed then, causing bile to churn in Jensen’s stomach, his heartbeat racing faster. “Oh, boy, I think that I am. I take it you haven’t gotten word from my lawyer yet? Shame really, though no matter how long you have to prepare, no judge is going to let a pair of fairies and some convoluted patchwork of a family to take care of those kids.”
“I suppose an abusive, inebriated son of a bitch is better suited?” Jensen hissed, his lips pressed against the mouthpiece, his fingers tightening further as if he could reach through the phone and wrap them around his father’s throat.
“I don’t know where I went wrong with you Jensen, I gave you everything. I raised you so much better than--”
“The only thing you taught me, Father, was how not to parent. You tried to teach me how to pickle myself into an early grave, how to lose my entire family, how to abuse and mistreat my spouse and children and--”
“How dare you speak to me like this!” Alan roared, his voice sharp, ringing through the phone. Jensen laughed, a short clipped sound as he realized that he wasn’t scared, not of Alan, not anymore. Now? Now, he was mad.
“I owe you nothing, Alan. If it weren’t for Gram and Gramps? I would be disgusted to be named an Ackles, to even be associated with you. You’re poison, Dad. And you will never get those kids, do you hear me? Each and every one of them are mine, they are my children and I will protect them until the last goddamn breath I breathe!” Jensen yelled the last lines down into the mouthpiece, slammed the handset down hard enough to knock the phone off its place on the wall, and stood there staring down as the receiver rocked on the floor.
“Daddy?” a soft voice seemed louder than it should be in the hallway and Jensen turned to see Jenna at the end, her back towards the kitchen and Martha standing behind her, a hand pressed to her mouth. “Daddy?” Jenna asked again, her voice breaking and Jensen moved quickly, falling to his knees before her and drawing his daughter into his arms.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweet girl,” he whispered, rocking Jenna who was clinging to his neck, arms and legs wrapped around him like she hadn’t done since she was eight. Hiding behind Martha’s legs, the boys stood with wide eyes and Jensen opened up an arm, and immediately the two boys were falling against him and Jenna’s back.
“We don’t wanna go away…” Kaleb mouthed against Jensen’s jacket and Jensen tightened his hold around them all.
“None of you will be going anywhere, do you hear me? I promise.” Jensen looked up, Martha’s eyes shining with tears but showing the same determination that he himself felt, and he knew that this would not be a battle easily won… but they would do it. Alan had already had his chance at a family and he destroyed that. He would not destroy Jensen’s family.
May 18th, 1971
Landstuhl, Germany
Jared let his eyes fall closed, leaning his head back against the back of the chair he was sitting in.
He was tired. He turned his head, looking at Dionne who was staring straight ahead, his neck hanging at an awkward angle and it took a moment to realize that he was asleep, sitting up. He snorted, turning his attention back to his lap.
They’d been up for thirty six hours now, had trekked their way through the jungle to their extraction point, gunshots and the smell of fire and the sound of screams bleeding out into the night, followed them as they moved. They were old memories, anything but distant as they echoed in all of their minds.
They’d gone in as eight. Dionne, Smith, Johnson. Young, Kent and Hemming. Murray... Now they were heading home as four, only half of their squad, half of their family, because that’s what each of them had become. He could picture them all even better than he could Jensen. God, Jensen…
Jared swallowed hard, his stomach twisting and he suddenly felt nauseous. He hadn’t heard from Jensen in months… mail had been held, unable to get to their location, and he missed his husband more than anything in the entire world. He missed lying beside him, legs and arms tangled in the heated mess of their bed. He missed spending the evenings on the porch, listening to Jensen strum on his guitar, his voice warm and deep, coursing its way through Jared’s veins, through his whole body until all he could hear, feel, was Jensen.
But… Jared exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms over his stomach and fighting the urge to draw a knee up to his chest. What if… what if Jensen changed his mind? What if he decided while Jared was gone that a life with Jared wasn’t one that he wanted? What if, once he knew the things that had tainted Jared’s mind and body, he decided he didn’t--
“Sergeant Padalecki!” Jared’s eyes snapped alertly upward, just as he shot up to his feet.
“Yes, Sergeant!” Jared answered, stepping away from his chair. His three men shifted behind him. The Master Sergeant waved Jared forward, turning and disappearing back through the door he’d come through, and Jared was quick to follow after him. The man was holding open a door to an office, pointing towards a phone.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Jared nodded to him, taking a seat and picking up the receiver. “Good evening, Sir.”
“Sergeant Padalecki,” Commander Morrison’s voice came over the line, a slight crackle in the background, and Jared leaned forward, covering his other ear with his free hand. “I trust you and your platoon are well?”
Jared’s thoughts quickly went to Chad and Hemming, hopefully somewhere in this hospital, and then to Young and Kent. He cleared his throat. “Yes, Sir. Eager to be heading home, Sir.”
“I’d imagine Sergeant.” A pause, more crackling. “We are waiting for a second platoon to get to Landstuhl, then I’ll give word to get you boys home. We’ll have the 196th all back stateside by the end of the month.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jared replied, a small smile on his lips.
“Because I like you so much, Padalecki, I’m giving you a heads-up to get your boys ready. Expect an award ceremony when you get back. You and your boys have performed exemplary work, bringing down three enemy squads. Nixon himself would be tickled pink,” the commander chuckled and Jared found himself sighing.
“Sir…” He paused, letting his eyes fall closed.
“Well, spit it out, Sergeant.”
“Sir… my men are… We have yet to hear news about Murray and Hemming and my men and I are all anxious to know…” Jared felt his heartbeat pick up, the silence on the other line felt like a vice around his throat, slowly cutting off the air flow to his lungs. He suddenly felt like it was a struggle to breathe, the silence on the other end making him sick.
“Hemming has been discharged, already back home with his family. As for Murray...“ Jared could hear papers shuffling on the other line and he held his breath. “Murray is still at Landstuhl. He hasn’t been taken off the ventilator.”
“Thank you, Sir. My men will be pleased to hear that Hemming is home.” They continued their conversation a few minutes longer. Jared listened to Morrison praise him and his squad once again before he hung up and sank back into the chair. Silently he replayed the phone call in his mind, feeling somewhat dazed as he considered the upcoming events. After a few moments he pushed off the seat, legs shaking as he moved to the door and back out into the waiting room where the rest of his men were anxiously waiting for him.
May 20th, 1971
Landstuhl, Germany
Jared swallowed hard, adjusting his army fatigue jacket and making sure that the buttons were straight, no creases or wrinkles were in the fabric. He was being foolish, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from checking his reflection in the glass pane of the door. One more check added one more minute, one more minute added one more false hope that this would be over, just a nightmare, that he wouldn’t be walking into a room where the only other person--other than Jensen-- who truly knew him lay wounded, lay… dying.
Jared laid his palm flat against the heavy wood door and pushed, holding his breath as the door made a groan of protest before swinging slowly open. The soft, steady beeping of the monitors hooked up to Chad’s body was the first sound he heard, then the whoosh, whoosh of the ventilator. He stared at the bed in the center of the room, stark white sheets hardly a contrast to the chalky tone of Chad’s skin. With each whoosh, the blankets rose and fell, the machine forcing Chad’s lungs into action. Jared closed his eyes, tried to picture the red flushed cheeks of Chad laughing out in the jungle, his legs kicked over Jared’s lap as he smoked a cigarette and won more smokes from the guys with each hand of poker.
“Excuse me please, Sergeant.” A nurse slipped into the room behind him, nudging Jared’s arm to move. He stood to the side, an arm’s length away from Chad’s bed, and watched as she picked up the chart hanging from the foot of the bed, made a few notes, and then moved to the various machines and adjusted their knobs.
Jared watched her, her moves swift but carefully efficient, the tenderness she used on a man whom she’s probably never heard speak twisted something deep inside of Jared. When she moved to leave, he stopped her. “Miss… Please…” He prayed for his voice to stay strong. “How…? When will he…?”
She smiled gently and Jared wished he’d never stopped her, wish he’d never seen the sadness clouding her eyes or the pity on her face. “He’s very sick, Sergeant. We are doing everything we can… but Sergeant Murray has a serious pneumococcal infection.”
“What does that mean?” Jared asked, watching as a multitude of responses played out over her face. Finally, she settled for another small smile and stepped forward, placing her hand gently on his arm.
“Are you a praying man, Sergeant Padalecki?”
“Not really, ma’am, no,” he answered honestly. “Only when times are real hard.”
“Well, I’ve been praying every night for Sergeant Murray,” she said softly, giving his arm a squeeze. “I’m sure if he has a few more people praying for him, somehow… he’ll pull through.”
Jared nodded, let himself lean into the comfort of her touch for a moment, and then he was left alone with the warm body of his best friend and the sounds of the machines keeping him alive. With a few steps Jared was at the bedside, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. He reached out seeking Chad’s upturned palm, wrapped his hand gently around it before giving it a squeeze. He knew what Chad would say if he could see Jared reaching for his hand, knew he would joke that Jared already had a good man back home and he couldn’t be selfish, couldn’t have two.
“You son of a bitch,” Jared whispered, blinking back the stinging of tears in his eyes. “You better pull through this Murray, do you hear me? You better wake up and get your fucking ass home, you got that?” Jared squeezed his hand again, the beeping the only response he received. He stared down at Chad’s face, eyelashes still against his cheeks and it seemed unnatural, unreal. “You son of a bitch...”
Jared closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. For a few more minutes he sat quietly then he began to speak to his unconscious friend regaling him with descriptions of the gorgeous nurses working here and about how anxious they were to meet the real Chad. He reminded him that there were thousands of girls back home that would love to welcome a war hero. He continued to talk about all the good things waiting for them back home until his voice grew hoarse and whispery quiet. Then he just sat, offering the strength of his silent presence.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, sharing the stillness with Chad, his prayer like a silent chant for Chad to just wake up, to open his goddamn eyes, to move. The nurse was back, her hand light on Jared’s shoulder but commanding as she pushed him to his feet, giving him a sad smile as she steered him towards the door.
“We need to freshen him up a bit. And you look like you need some sleep. You can come back and visit with him tomorrow, Sergeant.”
Jared nodded, looking back through the glass window at Chad’s still form and exhaled slowly. He didn’t tell her that he wasn’t sleeping, couldn’t sleep without seeing all of their faces in his dreams, bloodied and burning under the onslaught of gunfire or that Chad was always at the forefront, the first bloodied form he saw. He didn’t tell her that tomorrow they would be leaving, that once again he’d failed Chad, didn’t tell her that he blamed himself for Chad lying in the hospital bed unmoving and silent. He didn’t tell her anything, just nodded once more and slipped down the hallway, the silence of the hospital halls threatening to break him.
As if he weren’t already broken.
June 16th, 1971
Somerset, Vermont
Jensen couldn’t sit still.
Inside of the house he could hear Jenna chatting excitedly to her cousins, telling them everything she had planned for her Papa and how much fun they would have now that he was finally home.
Home. Jared was coming home.
Jensen shifted his position on the porch swing, bouncing Leigh Ann slightly in his arms. The six month old was happily playing with her foot and he met her crystal-bright green eyes with a smile. It both pained him and delighted him that her eyes had finally turned from blue to green. Along with the near white curls of blonde hair atop her head…she was going to look just like Mackenzie. She started babbling, releasing her foot and clasping her tiny hands in front of her body and Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.
“I know, little one… I’m excited too. I think you’re really going to like him.” Leigh Ann giggled again and Jensen rocked them both. He looked around the farm and wondered if it would look any different to Jared… At the end of last summer they’d painted the barn and Gerry had helped him replace the porch since the wood had begun rotting underneath. He briefly wondered if Jared would be upset that they did those things without him, but shook the thought away. He’d written to Jared about the things they were doing, probably bored his husband to death with the trivial duties of everyday life. They’d gotten a newer, more updated tractor, Jenna had dug her own plot in the side yard for a little garden of her own, and there were more kids’ toys strewn about the front yard than ever before.
Jensen just hoped that Jared would walk up to the farmhouse and think it still looked like home.
Inside he heard a pot slam down and he jumped along with Leigh Ann in his arms. Jenna called out, asking her Grammy if she was okay, and Jensen relaxed as soon as he heard Martha’s response. Part of him wondered if he should head inside and offer to help Sherri and his grandmother out -- they’d been working hard all morning preparing enough food for the entire army, never mind just their family. But as Leigh Ann started squirming, upset that his attention had been drawn elsewhere, he determined that he was most helpful just sitting out here, out of the way.
Waiting. Anxiously. For the bus to come and bring Jared home.
Jensen had missed the phone call yesterday morning as he was doing his milking rounds and part of him was jealous that Sherri had gotten to hear Jared’s voice first. She’d come out to the barn, tears in her eyes, and thrown her arms around Jensen, telling him that tomorrow Jared would be coming home. The Commander of the 196th had decided that they would be driving everyone home, not wanting the families to try and get through the protesters that had united outside of Fort Devens or risk the safety of the soldiers trying to get out.
Jensen wanted to scream every time he saw the news, the picketers and protesters, angry and blaming men who had no choice in the matter. Jared sure as hell hadn’t… Jensen had his own thoughts about the war, about the men that were putting their lives on the line either voluntarily or drafted, and he had to force himself to bite his tongue every time he was in the town and caught wind of someone speaking ill about the returned soldiers and the war. He was glad that Jared already had a home, a job, a life and felt his heart ache for the boys returning who didn’t.
It felt like hours that Jensen had been sitting there rocking Leigh Ann, stopping once to feed her some pureed chicken and peas. Jenna and the boys had joined him after their own lunch and all three of the kids were lounging on the porch, Jenna’s feet dangling over the edge and the boys drawing in the thin layer of dirt on the wood. Jenna heard it first.
“Papa,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. Jensen almost asked her what she said, and then he heard it too. The rumbling of a bus engine, the revving as it climbed its way up the hill, and then he saw it. He pushed out of the chair, his heart pounding loud in his ears, his stomach twisting, his skin suddenly feeling too tight and too hot. He was going to vomit. He was going to cry. He felt himself shaking and Leigh Ann was gently extracted from his arms, taken by Martha or Sherri or… God, Jared was here. Jared was home.
The bus stopped, its brakes squealing in protest. And then Jensen was stumbling down from the porch, Jenna’s hand clutched in his own and he could tell she was forcing herself not to run. They waited, a few feet from the roadway, standing in the dirt driveway and staring up at the huge shining door, hearts pounding in unison, Jenna swallowing thickly and twisting her shoe into the dirt. The door popped open and then Jared was there… moving clumsily down the steps as his duffel caught along the way.
He was thin, skin darker than it had ever been on the farm, his hair still short and cropped close under the brim of his hat. Jensen gasped, staring, and then Jared smiled, flashing all of his teeth and his dimples and Jensen melted. The bus driver slammed the door shut and the big bus rumbled on down the road just as Jenna broke free with a screech, launching herself across the last few feet of the driveway and into Jared’s waiting arms.
“Papa! Papa!” Jenna was sobbing and Jared lifted her up, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in, holding her close as he rocked her back and forth. “Papa, I missed you so, so, so much.”
Jared peeked out over her shoulder and Jensen realized he’d moved, he was standing beside them. Jared smiled, shifted Jenna to his side and reached for Jensen’s hand. “I missed you too, both of you. God...”
Jensen tried to speak, the sound stuck in his throat, but it didn’t matter because then he was in Jared’s arms, his skin on fire from where Jared was touching him. Jenna and Jensen were both pressed tight against him and he was whispering to them how much he missed them, how much he loved them, how glad he was to be home.
It seemed like forever, but not nearly long enough, and then Jared released them, reaching down for his duffel bag. Jenna was still clinging to him and he held the duffel bag beneath her, reaching down to thread his fingers through Jensen’s as he led them forward so he could greet the rest of the family.
Sherri was crying, clung to Jared almost as long as Jensen had. The boys were shy but quick to tell Jared about everything they’d done so far this summer, inviting him to help them build their tree fort down by the creek, asking him to go fishing with them. Gerry and Albert were warm in their greeting, telling Jared they were so glad to have him back, that things weren’t the same without him. Martha took his bag and told him to go wash up so she could begin to fatten him up again.
Now that Jared had said his hellos, he gave Jensen a small, sad smile and Jensen was immediately on guard, watching as his husband silently took in things around the house as he was led into the dining room and pushed into a chair. Martha served their lunch, piling Jared’s plate high with food, pouring him a glass of Albert’s best Scotch, and Jensen watched as his husband did more staring and picking at his food, taking a few moments to answer when a question was thrown his way. Every few minutes though, he would look up, meet Jensen’s eyes and smile in the same way that had always melted Jensen’s heart.
“Uncle Jared, did you get to kill any bad guys?” Kaleb asked, childlike excitement in his eyes. The room fell silent.
“Kaleb,” Jensen cleared his throat after a moment, waiting for the boy's green eyes to move towards his. “We don’t ask questions like that. It’s not polite, okay? In fact, let’s not talk about that at all. Why don’t you tell Uncle Jared about the baby frogs down by the cattle pond.”
Kaleb shrugged it off and launched into an exuberant story about the tadpoles he’d seen, but the room was changed, a blanket saturated in awkwardness and gloom nearly suffocating as it slowly pressed down on them all. Just as Cameron joined in to tell about the frogs, Jared pushed back from the table, stopping conversation again.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. Thank you for dinner, Martha. I think I… I need to go and lay down for a bit.” Jared’s movements were jerky as he walked away from the table, reaching down for his duffle bag and they all listened to his boots as they clumped their way up the stairs and crossed into the bedroom. Jensen’s eyes flicked over to Albert’s, his grandfather staring at Jared’s empty seat with sadness in his eyes.
“It will just take some time, Son,” Gerry said from beside him, his hand warm on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen nodded, then pushed back as well.
“I’m just going to make sure that… he’s got a clean towel, in case he wants to shower.” No one replied as he made his way up the stairs, footsteps much quieter than the heavy, combat boots Jared had been wearing. When he reached the closed bedroom door he hesitated, staring at the knob. He knew he could push it open, it was his bedroom as well, but he was suddenly terrified at what he would find if he did so.
He remembered how his Dad had been, quiet and pensive, a short fuse that led him quite readily to violence. Jensen was suddenly six years old again as he lifted his hand and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a thump and then footsteps and he froze hand still on the doorknob as Jared ripped the door open. They stood there, staring at each other, Jared taking huge, gasping breaths as he looked down at Jensen.
“Jared…” Jensen whispered and then Jared fell against him, arms wrapped tightly around Jensen’s body, lips crushed hot and hard against Jensen’s mouth, fingers digging almost painfully into his shoulder blades. He gasped, Jared swallowing the sound as he pulled Jensen forward, nearly slamming the door shut behind them and then pushing Jensen back against it. “Fuck, Jared…”
“I missed you, I missed you so much,” Jared whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this...”
“Jared, what are you talking about?” Jensen asked, reaching for Jared’s arms. “Of course you do!”
But then the other man moved away, stepping back quickly until his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he collapsed onto it, leaning down low over his knees and dropping his head into his hands.
“Jared?”
Jared was silent, his shoulders and his head shaking slowly in his hands. “I’m so tainted, Jensen… I don’t belong here anymore…” he finally whispered, lifting his head but continuing to stare down at his hands. His hands were trembling and Jensen slowly moved forward, kneeling before Jared and looking up into the wild, tortured eyes of the man he loved. Jared was falling apart before him and Jensen was terrified, terrified that this was the beginning, this was how it happened. He wondered if his father had started this way…
Jensen was surprised when his own hands were steady as he lifted them and placed them in Jared’s. Jared hissed, pained that Jensen was touching him, touching his hands, but he didn’t pull away.
“Jared, look at me. Don’t say that. This is your home… of course you belong here.” Slowly, Jared’s eyes drew up, glassy and unfocused, his fingers twitching beneath Jensen’s palms. “Breathe, Jared. Please, baby.”
Jared let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders and body nearly collapsing with the exhale and Jensen moved, collecting Jared in his arms once again, sliding up onto the bed so he was on his knees and could draw Jared against his chest. He held onto Jared, holding him as he trembled in Jensen’s arms until finally he was still, the only movement was his breath, hot against Jensen’s throat and the rise and fall of his throat.
“Come on,” Jensen urged Jared to his feet, Jared letting himself be moved. He stood, almost too straight, and Jensen wondered how long it would take for Jared to learn to relax again, to let his shoulders be comfortable instead of straight. He carefully undid all the buttons on Jared’s uniform shirt, pushing the fabric down off of Jared’s shoulders and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss to Jared’s lips. Then he gently slid the sleeves down his long arms and off each of his wrists, kissing Jared’s fingers before folding the shirt carefully over the footboard. He unbuttoned Jared’s pants, unzipping them as he leaned forward and kissed Jared’s throat, tugging the pants far too easily down Jared’s thighs as Jensen sank to his knees. He untied both of his boots, slipping them off before freeing Jared of the pants. He folded those too, putting them with the shirt, lining up the boots under them.
“Arms...”
Jared complied, lifting his arms over his head and letting Jensen pull his undershirt off, fingers skimming against Jared’s heated skin. He tossed the shirt into the corner of the room and then moved for Jared’s boxers, Jared using his shoulders as he lifted each of his legs. He kissed Jared’s chest, now bare and he shivered against the chill of the room. Jensen moved to their dresser, coming back with one of his oldest t-shirts, the fabric thin and worn and comfortable. Jared held it between his fingers rubbing it softly, a soft gasp leaving his lips before he was tugging it on and accepting the fresh pair of underwear from Jensen’s outstretched hand.
“Come on, Jay,” Jensen whispered, taking Jared’s hand and tugging him back over to the bed. He pulled the covers back, Jared watching him silently, and only when Jensen stripped to his boxers and climbed into the bed did Jared follow. Jensen sighed softly, pulling Jared back so they were facing each other, Jared’s breath almost too hot against his face, their legs tangled and Jensen’s arms around Jared’s shoulders.
“Jared,” Jensen whispered, waiting until Jared’s eyes met his. He smiled softly, reaching to cup Jared’s face, brushing a thumb over his thumb. “You’re home, you’re safe.” Jared shivered, his eyes falling closed as he leaned into Jensen’s touch, his hands tightening on Jensen’s waist. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Jared whispered back, swallowing thickly. Jensen ran his hand back through Jared’s hair, closing the distance between them to kiss Jared once more before holding onto him tighter. He let Jared’s steady breathing and the heat from his body lull him to sleep, his last conscious thought was that being in Jared’s arm, it was he that was truly home.