If You're Out There | Part Five | (6/8)
Master Post | Prologue | o1 | o2 | o3 | o4 | o5 | o6 | Epilogue
Part Five
Believe again; start to mend. We don't have to wait for destiny.
"Whoa, wait. What? Slow down, Jared. I can't understand what-"
"I fucked up, Sandy," Jared manages to choke out, gripping his cell phone tightly in his hand. "I really fucked up." A loud car passes by, horn blaring and Jared winces as the noise adds to the intensity of the migraine building behind his eyes.
"Okay," Sandy says, and the easy calmness of her voice would probably irritate him any other time, but right now, it's the only sanity he has to cling to. "Where are you? I'll come meet you."
"The park. In the clearing just off the walking trail." He closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. "Where Jensen-"
"Yeah. I know where. I'll be there soon okay? Just, don't do anything stupid."
"Okay," Jared says softly. "Okay."
:::
Sandy can't remember a time she's ever seen Jared this upset. His eyes are red, his hands shaking, and he doesn't even try to hide the tears that form trails down his cheeks. She slides down next to him on the ground, both of their backs resting against the thick trunk of the same tree.
"I need to get out of here," he says quietly, voice rough.
Sandy is silent for a long time before she finally says, "Where are you going to go?"
"I don't know. Anywhere. Somewhere far."
"You can't leave now, Jared," Sandy pushes. "We're this close to graduating."
"Speak for yourself. I doubt I'm even passing any of my classes anymore." He sounds hopeless, like he's already given up.
"There's still some time, though. You're smart. You can bring your grades up."
Jared just shrugs, mouth pressed into a thin line.
"Is this about coming out?" Sandy asks. "I really think that if you just talk to your parents they'll-" She stops suddenly at Jared's bitter laugh.
"They know."
"What?"
"I told my mom, who is probably telling my dad right now. They know." Jared rests his head back against the tree. "You should have seen my mom's face, Sandy. She couldn't even look at me."
"God, Jared. I'm so sorry," Sandy says, shifting to wrap him tightly in a hug. To her surprise Jared doesn't pull away. He leans into her touch, resting his head on her shoulder for a long while before she finally pulls away.
Silence washes over them again, and Jared reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a crushed pack of Marlboros. "I’m out of cigarettes," he states plainly.
"I thought you hated smoking," Sandy says, a small, sad smile on her lips.
"I do."
She laughs a little. "Then why do you do it, genius?"
Jared picks at the worn edges of the package in his hand. "Jensen used to smoke whenever he was upset about something. Makes me feel closer to him." He dips his head. "I know, it's stupid."
"No, it isn't stupid at all," Sandy responds, gently squeezing his hand. "He's out there somewhere, Jared. I know it. You'll see him again."
Jared looks at her, his face carrying some deep, raw pain that she isn't used to seeing there, and the broken way he whispers "I hope so," just seems to make her heart break for him a little more.
:::
Jensen sees the folded piece of paper lying on his bed before anything else when he enters his room. He had just gotten back from a walk in the cool morning air to clear his head a little, was on his way to take a shower when he saw it. He recognizes Chris' messy, slanted handwriting on it immediately.
So I guess this is it, huh? Bryan's going up to New York, wants me to go with him. We're getting married. Ain't that something?
Stay gold, Ponyboy. You're gonna make it.
-Chris
Jensen jerks when a hand rests on his arm. He turns to see Kristi standing behind him and he lets out a slow breath, his face full of questions.
"Yeah," Kristi says, nodding slightly. "He's gone. Left about an hour ago."
Kristi rubs a hand up and down his arm as Jensen stares blankly down at the piece of paper in his hand. He feels a sudden well of anger, of sadness and regret. Bryan wasn't a good guy. He shouldn't have left with him. Chris had just as many demons as he did and he wasn't ready to go.
He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.
"Chris has been here for a long time, Jensen," Kristi explains sadly. "Maybe he felt it was just his time to go."
No goodbye? Jensen signs slowly, and Kristi smiles a bit a shakes her head.
"Never has been one for goodbyes. He wanted me to give this to you, though" she says, offering him a small book that Jensen hadn't noticed she'd been holding. "He said you would like it."
Jensen carefully turns the book over in his hands, studies it closely. The cover is old and worn, the dark yellow tinted pages thin and delicate. Jensen reads the title, THE OUTSIDERS printed boldly in white, capital letters.
"You okay?" Kristi asks when he looks up again.
Jensen nods, but there’s nothing okay about this, nothing at all. Kristi gently squeezes his arm once, looks at him in a way that says I know before she leaves.
Alone now, Jensen opens the front cover of the book and places Chris' note neatly inside before lying it back down on his bed. He grabs his last pack of cigarettes from the small desk drawer, sticks his lighter in his pocket and makes his way back outside. He has a session with Dr. Lawrence in an hour, and he needs to take the edge off.
:::
Jensen never does make his way back inside.
He's still sitting on the sidewalk in front of the Center, still smoking and adding to the small pile of discarded cigarettes that rests beside him, still staring out at the street in front of him when someone comes and sits next to him. He can tell from the familiar perfume that it's Dr. Lawrence without turning to look. Instead, he continues watching the people as they walk by. There's a couple headed to the library next door, messenger bags bulging with notebooks and papers but the way they're holding hands, joking with each other and smiling is all they seem to care about.
He feels Dr. Lawrence nudge his arm, and he blows out the smoke in his lungs before finally turning to her.
"I missed seeing you this morning," she says, and Jensen thinks she’s about to get onto him for skipping but she doesn’t. "How long have you been sitting here?"
Jensen shrugs. A long time, he signs
"It's pretty out."
Jensen nods, turning back to look at the street. The young couple is gone, and he watches a man in a business suit rush out of one of the tall building across the street and into a cab, cell phone held tightly to his ear.
"I wanted to show you something," Dr. Lawrence continues after a while, pulling an envelope out of her pocket and handing it to Jensen.
He balances his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, opening the unsealed envelope carefully. Inside is a picture, and as he slowly pulls it out he sees Mackenzie's bright face shining back at him, a smile bigger than he's ever seen on her splayed across her face. She's sitting outside what he guesses is the Morgans’ house, lying on her back in the grass. Her face is turned to the sun, a Chocolate Lab lying at her side with his nose snuggled underneath her arm.
Jensen smiles a little as he takes it in, running his fingers over the glossy surface of the photo as if touching it will bring him closer to her, will allow some of that joy to soak in through his skin.
"She's really happy there," Dr. Lawrence says, the comment bittersweet as he sees it form on her lips. "But she misses you. The Morgans tell me the only time she really opens up is when she's talking about you." She smiles, leaning over and nudging him with his shoulder. "Turn it over."
Jensen flips the picture over to the back, sees Mackenzie's big, messy handwriting.
i miss u jensen.
Love, mac
Jensen can feel his heart clench as he reads the words, a sense of longing washing over him as he can all but feel Mackenzie's arms around him, wrapping him into one of her warm hugs that always seemed to come at just the right moments.
"She's waiting for you, Jensen. She wants to be with her brother again."
Jensen pulls out his notepad that had been resting in his pocket. He writes carefully, words cautious but hand steady.
i don't know if i can give her everything she needs
"You'll never know unless you try," Dr. Lawrence says, and Jensen takes another long drag of his cigarette, turning his head and blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.
Balancing his cigarette in between his fingers again, he rests his forehead against the heel of his hand. He's tired. So, so tired of being strong, of fighting through his demons and having a good day only for it to be ruined by the next morning because of the nightmares that never seem to allow him much sleep. He's tired of feeling trapped in this world, like everyone he loves is a million miles away and he's left trailing behind them and crawling towards something he can't seem to reach.
Dr. Lawrence places her hand on his back, rubbing it up and down for a moment in a goodbye gesture before Jensen feels her slowly get up and make her way back inside. He doesn't move until he feels heat on his fingertips as his cigarette burns down to the end. He puts it out against the concrete and leaves it lying in a pile with all the rest. He stands up slowly, legs stiff from sitting in the same position for so long and heads up the steps leading inside.
Back in his room, Jensen places the picture of his sister on the nightstand, propping it up against the small alarm clock. Still in the same spot he'd left it earlier, he picks up the book Chris had given to him, lies down on top of the covers and opens it up to the first page. Then, he begins to read.
:::
Everything is different now, and though Jared knew there was going to be some type of falling out, he hadn't expected this.
It's like they're stuck in some kind of awkward dance, where eye contact is avoided at all costs and being in the same room as one another makes their skin crawl so much it's unbearable. Conversations stop when he walks into the room; his mom always looks at him like she's about to start crying at any moment; his dad always carries this grimacing expression on his face now. Even Megan doesn't pester him with the most senseless questions she can come up with anymore.
He’s taken to spending most of his time at Sandy's house, leaving for school earlier than he needs to so they can meet at her house and walk to school together, going home with her afterwards so he doesn't have to sit locked away in his room to spare them all the uneasiness. She helps take his mind off things and starts to set him back on track. She pushes him to study to get his grades back up, makes him laugh before he has the chance to cry, even going as far as dressing him in a ridiculous chef outfit one day so they could bake a popular dish from a foreign country for a school project they'd both been assigned.
She's his rock, what keeps him going every day, and he knows that without her here he would have given up a long time ago.
:::
"I'm pretty sure I haven't slept more than twenty four hours in the last two months," Jared says, dropping his head onto his open textbook. Today was one of the days Sandy was in full drill sergeant mode, dragging him to tutoring after school, then to a study group session, and now to the library. His only saving grace at passing a few of his classes is acing his finals, and he's been staying up all night making up some of the assignments his teachers had allowed him to re-do, running purely on caffeine. Despite all of the energy drinks, a throbbing ache had developed at the front of his skull sometime at the beginning of the month, and it hasn't disappeared since.
"Stop whining. Start studying," Sandy says flatly. She doesn't even bother to look up from her AP Biology book, chewing on the cap of her highlighter as she marks something in her notes.
"Can't. My head is going to explode."
"You're preaching to the choir here, buddy."
"Can we please take a break? I'm running on empty." Jared digs the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Do I need to remind you that if you don't study, you don't pass finals, and if you don't pass finals, you don't graduate?" Sandy says, finally looking up from her books.
"No. I'm pretty sure I got that. Thanks for the reminder though, Debby Downer."
Sandy rolls her eyes and points at the mess of papers in front of him. "Study."
Jared groans loudly, causing the librarian shelving books a few feet away from their table to shoot him a look. Sandy throws her eraser at him. "How many more days until graduation again?"
"Twenty-seven."
"And until finals?" he asks.
"Twenty."
"So, let’s see," Jared begins, trailing off as he scribbles something on the corner of one of the papers in front of him. "That means we have four hundred and eighty more hours to study for these tests. I think we can spare one hour for a food break."
"Nope," Sandy says offhandedly. Her attention has already turned back to her notes, and Jared watches on as she drags her highlighter across the page.
For some reason, he can't help but smile.
"Thank you, Sandy."
"Hmm?"
"Thanks. For helping me with all of this... you know, with school and stuff at home. I don't think I would have stayed sane if it weren't for you."
Sandy looks up, returning the smile. "Don't mention it," she says, her grin growing bigger. "But you're welcome."
:::
They leave the library just before its closing time, and despite the sun having already gone down and his rumbling stomach, Jared doesn't want to go home. He's tired and irritable, and he knows that walking through his front door is only going to make things worse. He doesn't have the patience or care to walk on eggshells around his family tonight.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he tells Sandy as they reach her house.
"All right. Try to get some sleep. You're going to turn into a caffeine zombie or something pretty soon if you don't."
Jared laughs tiredly. "I'll do my best."
He takes the long way from Sandy's house to his, thinks about walking around the neighborhood again but realizes he's only delaying the inevitable. The house is dark when he walks in, but he can see the faint glow of the kitchen light and hear the low murmurs of his parents’ voices. He slips off his shoes, dropping his backpack by the stairs before going to the kitchen. He can practically feel the tension of the room prickling against his skin when his parents see him enter.
Jared ignores the quick end to their conversation, acts like he doesn't care that they've probably been sitting there for hours talking about him, and heads towards the refrigerator.
"How was your day, honey?" his mom asks. Her voice sounds shaky, higher than normal, like she's trying to overcompensate for the sadness there with too much false cheeriness.
"It was all right," Jared responds, his back turned to his parents as he searches through the contents of the refrigerator. Seeing nothing particularly appealing he opens the freezer door, reaches to the very back of the top shelf where he's hidden the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
"Good," his mom says, nodding. "That's good."
His dad clears his throat. "Where have you been all day? You haven't been home since this morning."
"Yeah," Jared replies, dragging out the word and doing his best not to roll his eyes. "I told you I was studying with Sandy after school and I'd probably be home late."
"And were you?"
Jared can feel his irritation escalating, doesn't even bother trying to keep it from creeping into his expression as he turns around. "Yes Dad, I really went and studied." He pauses, blowing out a deep breath of air. "It was great, actually," he continues, voice full of sarcasm. "I met this boy there - he was smoking hot - and we totally hooked up. Right there in the library. Can you believe it?" He turns to grab a spoon from the silverware drawer. When he turns back to face his parents his mom is looking down at the table, his dad's face having turned a fascinating shade of red.
"Oh, sorry. Was that TMI?"
"Jared," his father begins, voice dangerously low. "You will not talk to me or your mother that way ever again. Not while you're living under this roof. Do you understand me?"
Jared's lips form into a thin line, his jaw set stubbornly, but when he speaks all the fight seems to rush out of him. "I'm sorry, it’s just..." He drops his eyes and adds softly, "I'm gay, Dad. That doesn't make me some whore that goes out with boys every time I leave the house."
"Is that what you think this is about?" his dad asks, voice just as quiet, and when Jared looks up he's surprised at the shocked expression his dad is wearing on his face. "We're your parents, Jared. We worry about you when you stay out late, especially since..."
"I don't do that anymore. I told you guys that."
"And we heard you, but you decided to break that trust by drinking and doing God knows what in the first place. Now you have to earn it back." He pauses, looks over at Sharon. "I think we all just need more time."
Jared swallows thickly. "Okay," he says softly. "Okay."
:::
When Jensen was younger, he used to crawl out of bed long after his mom had tucked him in to look out the window at the stars. He imagined each sparkling light as another planet, one where everyone talked with their hands like him and no one ever touched you if you didn’t want them to. Every night after he climbed back in bed he would close his eyes and wish upon those same stars to wake up on one of the planets in the sky. He even made sure to always sleep with his favorite teddy bear snug by his side as he fell asleep so that he could come with him too. He doesn’t remember how many times it took him to wake up in his same bed, in his same house with his same family for him to finally stop wishing.
Now, as he fills the large suitcase the Center has let him borrow to carry his few belongings, he thinks about those nights.
The suitcase is only half full when he finishes packing, all of his possessions easily fitting into the large storage space with more than enough room left over. He makes sure everything is folded neatly, running his hands over all the creases before he closes it, the zipper vibrating in his hand as it connects the two sides.
His parents’ trial is going to be starting soon, and it’s time for him to make the trip with Dr. Lawrence back home to face them.
Jensen moves the suitcase down from the bed onto the floor, sits down on the soft mattress. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there, staring at nothing when Kristi comes to his room and tells him it's time.
Taking the book Chris gave him, he slips Mackenzie's picture inside its pages, grabs his bag and makes his way out the door.
:::
The meeting they have with the lawyer is in one of the tall buildings of downtown Dallas, one Jensen remembers seeing often but has never actually been inside before.
"Does he understand what's going to be happening these next few days?" the lawyer asks, words rushing impatiently out of his lips. He's an older man, his dark hair lined with silver streaks and bags resting underneath his eyes. His suit is blue, freshly pressed, and Jensen wonders how many cases he goes through each day, and if this one even means anything to him.
"You don't have to aim your questions at me," Dr. Lawrence responds professionally. "Jensen can read your lips."
The lawyer shifts uncomfortably. "My apologies."
Jensen misses most of the exchange, though; he's too busy staring absently down at his shaking hands. He grasped the most important parts from the beginning of the meeting, the briefing on what to expect while testifying on the stand. He looks up when Dr. Lawrence taps his arm.
"There will be an interpreter there for the entire trial," the lawyer says, “but if you have any trouble understanding something don’t be afraid to let someone know.”
Jensen nods slowly, signs ok, but as they leave he doesn't feel any more at ease about what's to come than when they'd entered.
:::
Standing outside the courtroom, Jensen's heart is beating so furiously in his chest that he wonders if other people can hear it. His hands shake, his palms sweat, and the pacing he's been doing while they wait for the trial to begin has been doing little to calm his nerves.
"Jensen," Dr. Lawrence says, standing to block his path. The lawyer had just given her the signal that it was time to enter the room, but she knew that Jensen was in no shape to do so yet. "Jensen," she repeats. "Stop."
He does, fingers tapping his leg as his arms hang at his side.
"Take deep breaths. You're going to be fine. All you have to do is tell the truth. The rest is out of your hands." She watches as Jensen does his best to fight the anxiety growing inside of him. "It's time to go in now. Are you ready?"
Jensen wants to sign no, wants to shake his head, walk right out those front doors and never look back, but he knows he can’t. He gives a hesitant nod, takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly.
Dr. Lawrence gives him a reassuring smile and reaches out to smooth down the collar of Jensen's shirt. "I'm proud of you, Jensen," she says. "You're going to be fine. I know it."
Part o6