Angel in Blue - Part 3

[nicslash]

Angel in Blue 3/6

Part Three
Jensen spends the night tossing and turning in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the whole day over and over like a movie on repeat in his mind. He thinks about sipping on some more scotch just to help him fall asleep, but he doubts that’ll even do the trick.

The next day is a blur with Jensen in a daze for most of it. He stays in, gets some stuff done around his apartment so he won’t have to face the world or talk to anyone. That night is the same as the one before, restless and sleepless. The bruise on his chest a constant reminder of what could have happened. He forces himself to think of Jared’s kiss when the echo of a gunshot rings through his ears. Somehow it makes him settle.

He has the morning shift and it’s relatively quiet on his beat. Lucy isn’t pounding him for details and seems to respect that Jensen doesn’t want to talk about what happened after he left the bar with Jared.

On his lunch break Jensen finds himself around the old neighborhood. He sees his mom in her garden as he rolls up in the jeep. She doesn’t look to see who it is as he puts it in park and can probably tell it’s him by the sound of the engine.

The house still looks good, could use some paint around the trim but Jensen knows better than to offer. He can see his mom stand up stiffly, favoring her lower back. The apron tied around her waist has patches of dirt here and there, gardening tools sticking up from the insides of the pockets.

She finally looks up, shading her eyes from the beating sun and smiles nervously. Her gaze falls on Jensen’s badge, his gun, and back up to his face as he walks along the stone path through the garden. Her expression is sad, the worried creases wrinkling her forehead in the same pattern he’s known since he was a kid, seeing them every time he would fall down or come home late. The deepest he’s ever seen them was when he told her that he was going to be a police officer and not follow the construction roots in the family.

She smells the same as she did when Jensen was growing up and her scent is a bit comforting. She smells like home and Jensen breathes it in deep when they hug cautiously. “It’s looking really good, mom.” Jensen says, bending forward slightly to smell a white rose.

She brightens instantly. “Do you think so? My tulips are having trouble coming up and I think squirrels are digging up my sunflowers.”

“Want me to shoot ‘em for you?”

She chuckles, hand pushing on Jensen’s shoulder. “Oh stop it.”

Their smiles fade and an awkward silence fills the air between them. Jensen doesn’t really know what to say and pretends to look at the flowers instead of his mom, trying not to notice the gray hair falling around her face, the wrinkles deeper at the corners of her eyes that look similar to his own.

“Do you want to come in?” It’s said with kindness and maybe some hope, so Jensen nods and opens the door for his mom to go in first.

Memories hit him as soon as he enters the dark room. There are pictures of him and his brother when they were young on the wall, two boys with wild hair and missing teeth. There is clutter on the kitchen table and it smells like baked bread and smoke.

Jensen feels restless and isn’t sure he should have come at all. He can feel the tension begin to creep up in his neck. “Smells like cigarettes in here. I thought he quit.”

“He’s trying.” She sighs, not wanting to fight about it. Probably doesn’t have much fight left in her. “Down to five or six a day.”

Jensen nods, like that’s a big achievement. “I like the wall paper in here.”

His mom runs her hand along the wall, a fingernail chipping at a bump, an imperfection in an otherwise smooth surface. Her eyes are back on Jensen’s uniform though, darting to his hip, eyeing the gun there, the shoulder radio, the silver cuffs on his belt, and the top of his bullet proof vest peaking out under his button up shirt. More worry makes her press her lips together tightly in a thin line.

“How are you doing? Are you taking care of yourself?”

Jensen shrugs and steps towards the fireplace to lean his elbow on the mantel. “I guess I’m okay.” There’s a framed picture that he doesn’t remember being taken at his police academy graduation. “Has this always been here?” He’s not surprised he doesn’t know how long the picture has been up, but he is surprised it’s out at all.

“Yes, it’s always been there.”

Jensen steps away from the fireplace and crosses his arms over his chest. “Did Josh tell you that I stopped by the construction site the other day?”

“Of course he did. He called me that night, right after he left town.”

“He left town in the middle of a project?”

“There’re some parts he needs in Burbank. Took Rachel and Josh Jr. for a few days to visit Aunt May.”

“Oh.” Jensen remembers when they were little, going to Aunt May’s house when things got stressed around the house. “So is that why you called?” He doesn’t mention that she called in the middle of the day, probably knowing that he was on his beat and that it’d go right to voice mail.

“I called because we wanted to invite you to the renewal ceremony.” She says, slowly and calmly like the decision has been made, but she’s still not too sure. “It’s three weeks from Saturday.”

“We? Who exactly is we? You keep saying that.”

Mom doesn’t hesitate. “The family.”

Jensen lets that sink in and wonders exactly what it means. “Why are you renewing your vows anyway?”

“Well…” She pulls out a chair and sits down at the kitchen table, starting to gather the daily newspaper and advertisements. “I guess it’s like a fresh start.”

“Your idea?” Jensen doesn’t move to sit down. He probably won’t be staying much longer.

“No, both of us thought about it. We want our marriage to be blessed.”

“And it wasn’t blessed before?”

His mom closes her eyes at that, her shoulders slump and she looks frail now. “Of course it was blessed before. You just don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand, ma? I’m really trying here.”

“You’re always thinking about the bad times, honey. I just wish you could remember the good times too. They’re there.”

They stare at each other for a moment and in a way, she’s completely right. The bad has overcome the good in his mind. The nasty, hurtful memories weighing over the good ones like a ton of bricks. “I’m sorry, mom. I wish I could do that.” He tries, searches through the sadness to think about something good in his past. There’re a lot of black holes. “Does he though? Remember any of the good? About me?”

“Of course, Jensen.” His mom gets up now and goes to the sink for a glass of water. “He doesn’t hate you. I hope you know that. He’s just still very… hurt.”

“Hurt? I hurt him?”

Jensen’s mom nods, slowly like she’s choosing what side she wants to be on. “Well yes. Being arrested like that. It would be an awful experience for anyone.”

“Yeah?” Jensen can feel the heat in his face, the familiar straining in his muscles when he gets stressed. “What about what he did to deserve it? You forget about that?”

“It wasn’t as bad as you make it out. You always make it seem worse than it really is. And it hasn’t been like that in years.”

Jensen can tell she’s being truthful and knows the signs to look for if she wasn’t. She’s wearing a tank top and shorts, no bruises on her arms and she’s moving without any hint of being sore, besides the ache in her lower back. “That’s good, ma. I’m glad he’s changed. But don’t you see? That means that it worked. That was the point, that’s why I did what I did. How come I’m the one who gets punished for it over and over again?”

“Sweetie, no one is punishing you.” She says sadly, and then smiles a little. “We’re inviting you. Please come. Will you?”

And Jensen could never refuse his mom, not after everything. “Yeah, ma. I’ll be there.”

She hesitates again, a trace of fear showing through her well placed mask she’s so good at building. “We just…” The words are gentle, she doesn’t want to offend. “Don’t want any trouble that day. Please.”

“I’m your son, mom. I never want any trouble. Okay? I’m not going to argue, I won’t come in my uniform.” Jensen smiles softly too, with maybe a little sadness on his face because it shouldn’t have to be like this.

“Okay. It’s on the twenty-third. You still know where the church is?”

“Yes, mom.” Jensen glances at his watch, his break time is almost over and he makes his way to the front door. He can feel the tension leave his shoulders now that he’s going, letting his defenses down just a little. “And tell dad… thanks. I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t hear her say anything more, but can make out a sound of tissues being pulled from the box, probably to wipe away a tear he knows she was holding back.



It’s been one hell of a long day and Jensen is looking forward to crashing in his bed, attempting to by some miracle, get some much needed sleep.

He climbs the stairs to his apartment two at a time, anything to lock himself away just a little faster. He’s drained from that visit home, which is probably the reason he doesn’t go that often, because of the mixed up feelings he gets as a result.

When Jensen makes it to his front door there’s no mistaking the piece of paper stuck right under the peephole with scotch tape. He grabs at it carefully; a sense of hopeful surprise in the pit of his stomach, spiking prickles rolling down his skin when he guesses who it could be from.



It’s a sketch of a mountain scenery, simply done in pencil but beautiful all the same. Jared’s name is written in the bottom corner, along with his phone number. It makes Jensen grin for the first time that day. He shakes his head and unlocks the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Throughout the night Jensen keeps glancing at the drawing. It follows him into the kitchen when he microwaves a pizza for dinner, then to the living room as he watches the late time news, and then finally to bed as it sits on his night stand table.

He tosses his cell phone by the drawing, the phone number in pencil memorized by now and Jensen pictures himself dialing and… and then what? Then it gets awkward. Jensen really doesn’t want to do awkward with Jared. He wants to know what to say and how to say it, but he has no idea where Jared will lead him.

So he busies himself with getting ready for bed, rinsing the day off in a quick shower and snuggling down under the covers in the boxer briefs he usually wears to sleep. There’s a framed photo of the family across the room on his dresser and he stares at it for a bit too long, gets lost thinking about the conversation he had with his mom today, the house so uncomfortable yet familiar, and what it means when he’ll see his dad for the first time in years. He wishes that he just didn’t care, but in the end it’s always going to matter what his family thinks of him. He wants to be a part of it; he misses the dynamics and never wanted his family to be so divided, especially because of him. How the hell did they get here?

Jensen rolls over, the mattress shifting underneath him and now he’s faced with another uncertainty.

Jared.

Jensen doesn’t really know anything about the guy. The less he knows, the less he’s in control and Jensen doesn’t like that. He pushes the paper down, suddenly not wanting to see it anymore. The tape sticks to his finger though and he tries to shake it off, only for it to get stuck to his pinky. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles under his breath. He doesn’t want to call. He doesn’t want to get into anything.

It’s such a lie.

The blind dates, the stupid idiotic men he has absolutely no intentions of actually having a relationship with, of course Jensen’s been looking for someone to fill this void. And now here’s a guy he might actually hit it off with and there’s nothing but conflict battling in his mind.

The tape is sticking to his thumb now and Jensen grabs his cell phone to quickly punch in the number before he can change his mind yet again.

After a few rings, Jared’s voice is slightly breathy, like he ran to pick it up. “Hello?”

It’s weird. Jensen hasn’t said anything and it’s already weird. “Do you have voicemail?

“What?” Jared doesn’t sound weird though. He sounds completely normal. In fact, Jensen can almost hear Jared smile through the phone, humoring Jensen.

“Do you have voicemail on your phone?”

“Yes.”

“Can you um… can we just hang up and when I call again, you let it go to voice mail? Please?”

“Why?”

Jensen doesn’t answer. He hangs up instead, gives it a minute, imagines Jared look of confusion and dials the number again. Five rings until it goes to voice mail and Jensen’s heart beats like crazy as he listens to the beep.

“Hi. Uh. It’s me. I was thinking that maybe we could get breakfast tomorrow or something. I get up early for a run in the park. There’s a diner across Research Street. Like around eight. If you’re there, you’re there.” Jensen hangs up and tosses his phone down on his bed. There. Done. Now he can get some sleep and not think about anything until morning.

Five hours later, he’s still up. Thinking. About everything. Tossing and turning.

Around seven fifteen in the morning, he thinks about ignoring the alarm and burrowing under the pillow. He slams the button to off, sits up, finds his phone and calls the same number as last night. When there’s no answer, he fights off a yawn and tries not to mumble. “Hey, it’s me. Look, maybe this is a bad idea. I didn’t get much sleep and I was just in a funk last night. Maybe we should just leave things where they’re at.” He admires the pencil drawing once more and it still makes him happy, knowing that Jared was thinking about him. But there’s nothing that can really come from this. Besides, it’s too late now. “Bye… and well, thanks for the…” He can’t even finish, feeling embarrassed and exposed all over again, just like the night Jared was in his apartment. He tosses the phone to the side, lies back down, punches his pillow a few good times and throws the sheet over his head, hiding in the darkness.

Two hours later Jensen is finally getting to sleep. Then the knocking happens. Hard, determined pounding on his door that just won’t stop. He gets out of bed, pissy and frustrated, can hardly walk straight he’s so exhausted. He stumbles down the hallway, the grumpiness clearly overtaking him as he curses and yells at whoever is disturbing his attempt to get some much needed shuteye. “Okay, okay. Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Jensen leans his forehead on the door. “Oh Jesus.” He twists the locks and flings the door open. He’s still only wearing the briefs that he slept in and the cold air from the hallway brushes his bare skin. One thing he’s not embarrassed about is his body. He’s in great shape. Not that he usually puts himself on display like this, but hell, Jared did just wake him up.

Jared, with a stern expression on his face and maybe some disappointment, is now becoming slightly pissed off. Jensen finds himself not really all that sorry. He needs some god damn sleep.

“I was finally about to fall asleep.”

“You broke our date.”

Jensen scratches at his bare chest, watches as Jared tracks the movement but doesn’t let go of the eye contact for very long. “It was never a date.”

“Okay, fine.” Jared says, patience wearing thin. “An appointment. I always keep my appointments.”

Jensen lets out an exasperated sigh and walks back towards his bedroom, leaving Jared to follow him if he wants. He can hear the door shut and footsteps down the hallway. Jensen passes the mirror over his dresser on the way, noticing the pillow creases on his face and his hair sticking up every which way. He groans at the disheveled reflection and crawls into bed. “I called you at seven fifteen and left a message.”

“I got up early and walked there.” Jared says, entering Jensen’s bedroom and looking around, but mostly at the lump of a body under the covers. He shifts the brown paper bag he has in his hand to the other. He’s wearing his long dark blue coat again and some faded jeans that make his legs look miles long. “I waited for you.”

“Check your phone.”

Jared slips his cell out of his pocket. He must see the message waiting for him because his eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“I need more sleep. Come back next week.”

“Come back?” Jared huffs. “What makes you think I would ever come back?”

Jensen flips onto his stomach, the pillow resting in the bend of his elbow. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m here…” Jared’s voice is like a reprimanding school teacher now. “To tell you that if you make an appointment you should keep it. That you shouldn’t keep people waiting and that when you tell someone you’re going to be somewhere then that person rearranges his entire life and you should be a lot more considerate instead of just-”

Jensen throws the sheet off and rolls over, eyeing the brown sack in Jared’s hand. “What’s in the bag?”

“What?” Jared’s obviously mad that Jensen didn’t take his life lesson more seriously. “None of your business.”

“Is it coffee? Because I smell coffee.”

Jared shakes his head a little, covers the bag with a protective hand. “And you think you deserve coffee?”

“What else is in there? Food?”

“You definitely don’t deserve any food, that’s for sure.” Jared starts to open the bag. “There’s sugar and cream for the coffee.”

Jensen’s pout turns into a smile as he sits up and Jared hands him the hot cup. “Just black. Awesome. Thank you.” He takes a sip, relishing in the flavor, and studies Jared in his room. “So I’m curious, what kind of life did you have to rearrange in order to get some coffee? You hardly said a word about yourself the other night. What is it that you do, Jared?”

Jared leans on the dresser, fiddling the coins that Jensen had dumped from his pockets. He opens the first drawer of the bureau and peeks inside. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, for one thing you’re in my bedroom. Going through my jockstrap drawer. That’s the difference. Who are you?”

Jared flushes and quickly pushes the drawer closed. “Someone who keeps his appointments.”

“Don’t do that. You’re avoiding the question again.” Jensen drinks his coffee and then a thought hits him like shard of glass in his heart. “Oh my god. Shit. You’re married, aren’t you? You’re straight?” He takes a pillow and throws it at Jared, totally convinced that he’s right. Not that a pillow will do much harm, but still.

Jared catches it easily. “I’m not, actually. Married or straight.”

“I don’t believe you.” Even though Jensen kind of does. It’s nine in the morning on a Saturday. If Jared was married, he’d probably be with his wife right now.

“You don’t believe me?” Jared says, walking towards the bed. “Then give me back the coffee. You especially don’t deserve it now.”

“No.” Jensen guards the cup and pouts again.

“Give it.”

Jensen reluctantly hands it over. Jared hits him with the pillow and gives the coffee back, leaving Jensen with a small smile. In a teasing voice, he continues, “Or wait, I know. You’re a criminal, right? Some kind of underground mob king. Great, that’s just what I need.”

Jared stares at him, eyes dancing and his tone is calm. “My name is Jared. I’m not married, I don’t commit any crimes. I like being with you. Let’s just start here. From right now.”

It doesn’t take long for Jensen to think about it. “That’s bullshit. I don’t do this. I don’t let people I don’t know into my life. Hell, into my bedroom. I’m not some jerk, Jared. I need the details. A last name would be a great start.”

“And I need to start from here.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s his way or no way at all.

“That’s so absurd. Why?”

He shrugs, blinks slowly but meeting Jensen’s gaze. “It’s just the way it has to be.”

“So, your rules?”

“My rules.”

That’s all Jensen needs to hear for it to be over before it even started. “Okay, fine. I didn’t want to get to know you anyway. Bye.”

Jared doesn’t know what to say. He seems conflicted, like he doesn’t want to go but he doesn’t want to give in either. He walks to the doorway and pauses there and Jensen thinks he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Jared doesn’t turn around and continues to walk out.

What the hell? Jared wouldn’t have come all the way over here if he wasn’t going to give up some kind of information about himself. Did he really think they wouldn’t talk about him, his past, or what kind of life he leads?

Jensen’s eyes find that damn mountain sketch and his brain goes into fast forward, coming up with an idea. He puts the coffee cup on the night stand and hurriedly pulls on a t-shirt and jeans. He slips on some shoes and runs his hands through his hair before rushing into the kitchen and grabbing his keys. He's going to find out about Jared his way.

Jensen follows the tall figure to his street. They actually don’t live that far away from each other if the back roads are taken. The building he lives in is ten levels high and Jensen presses all the buttons on the automatic door panel. Someone buzzes him in. He watches the elevator indicator stop at the second floor and Jensen silently runs up the stairs, his footsteps hardly making a sound, just in time to see what door Jared unlocks, slips inside and starts to close behind him.

Jensen bangs it open, feels like he’s on a sting with the way he barges in. Jared is startled to see Jensen there, staring hard and headstrong.

“Can I come in?” There’s sarcasm that comes out, but Jensen can’t help it. This guy has gotten under his skin. He walks right in and starts looking around; much like Jared had done at his place.

As much as Jared is shocked, he doesn’t seem to mind that Jensen is there. “Of course, sure. Come in.”

Desperately seeking for a clue about this man, Jensen is dumbfounded when there’s nothing in the apartment. It’s empty except for a mattress in the middle of the floor of the living room. The place is clean, high ceilings and wide windows that allow the sun light to pour through, but there’s not much else to look at. No books, no magazines, no photos, no clutter of life. The kitchen is in almost the same condition, sterile and unused.

“You live here? There’s no way. No one lives here. You use this place for some kind of scam. Drugs, prostitutes? What’s it for?”

“Is this what you were talking about-?”

“What?”

“The interrogation part. Do I need a lawyer?”

Jensen knows he sounds ridiculous. He just can’t figure it out. There’s no sign of anything wrong or bad that happens here, just that there’s nothing here at all. He takes a moment to breathe and stop accusing someone who doesn’t owe him anything in the first place. “I just don’t wanna be jerked around, man.”

“I’m not jerking you around, Jensen. I promise you that.”

That gives him hope. He tries again. “So then tell me how it is. Give it to me straight. Who are you?”

Jared stays silent, won’t budge an inch when Jensen is willing to run after him like a lunatic. It’s not playing fair, so Jensen moves to leave. He knows this will be the last time they see each other if Jared doesn’t stop him right the fuck now.

“What exactly do you need to know?”

Relief floods Jensen’s bones, his heart is pounding loudly in his chest, thankful that Jared is talking, maybe even giving this a chance.

“I need to know about your life. What you’re all about.” Jensen turns around, puts his hands in his pockets. His shoelace is starting to come untied. “I don’t want any surprises.”

“This is all the surprise you’re going to get.” Jared opens the expansion of his long arms and does a small circle around the empty room. The veins in his forearm are bulging out, thick lines that follow all the way up to his shoulder. Jensen wonders about the strength in those arms, sure that they could match his own. There are thick pipes that line some of the ceiling and Jensen can picture Jared doing pull ups each morning. “This is it. I sleep here at night and walk around during the day. That’s all.”

“That’s your life? That’s all of it? What about your hobbies, your interests, what do you even like to do?”

Jared nods. “It doesn’t matter. This is my life now. Except for you. The way I feel about you…”

“Which is?”

“Surprising, I guess is the right word. I thought it would never happen. I thought I was--”

“You thought you were what? Straight?”

“No.” Jared shakes his head, crosses his arms, muscles tightening under the soft fabric of his shirt. “Dead. In a way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Should I understand that?”

Jared shakes his head again and his face has gone soft. “No, not really. Have you ever wondered what ‘scratch’ means? When someone says that ‘we’ll start from scratch’? This is my scratch. We can start from here.”

“Scratch?” Jensen repeats the word, like it’ll suddenly be all the answers to his questions. He looks at Jared again, then around this empty place not filled with life, any life at all. It scares him. But then Jensen’s eyes find Jared’s again and he isn’t frightened. It’s so confusing. “I don’t know.” He says, backing up. Time to think, is what he needs right now. He breaks off the stare and heads for the door, feels Jared’s eyes on his back as he leaves.



At the end of his next work day, Lucy’s already gone when Jensen sits at his desk with a sandwich he never got to eat at lunch. He’s still unsettled from the day before, but mostly he’s so tired that his thoughts are numb, stuck in a loop inside his head.

The ziplock bag is still in his backpack when Morgan walks by, one of the geek guys from the lab. “Hey Morgan, can you do me a favor?”

Morgan stops reading a file he’d been looking at and nods to Jensen. “What’d you need?”

Jensen reaches for the plastic bag and hands it to him. “There’re two sets of fingerprints on it. Mine and someone else. You think that you can lift ‘em for me?”

Morgan opens the bag and crooks up an eyebrow. He can smell it from there. “Scotch?”

“Yep.”

“Is there a case number?”

Jensen’s always liked Morgan. The guy doesn’t waste time on pleasantries and he certainly goes straight to the point. “Can we just call this a personal favor?”

Just a second passes when Jensen thinks maybe it won’t happen, but Morgan has never disappointed him before. “Sure, Ackles. You got it. I’ll let you know when it comes back.”

“Great, thank you.” Jensen only feels a little guilty when Morgan walks away with the glass. That if Jared knew what Jensen was up to, he’d probably never talk to him again. It’s really not Jensen’s fault though. He doesn’t do mysterious guys and needs to know what he’s up against. He gave Jared a chance to explain himself and well, that didn’t go well at all. Now it’s time to take matters into his own hands.

He pulls up the search engine on the computer and types in Jared Smith. That was the name Saunders had put in the report after talking to Jared about the shooting. Of course, Jared had no identification on him but he had just saved an officer so Saunders didn’t press. Jensen almost wishes he had.

He presses enter and 1,493 results pop up. These are criminals, arrests and convictions, and Jensen really doubts his Jared is in this data base, but at least it’s some sort of starting point. He’s on page 453, looking at a profile of a tweaked out guy with a red squirrely beard when the lieutenant comes up to his desk and sits down at the corner.

“Ackles.” Saunders says as a greeting. “How’s it going?”

“Why? What’d I do now?”

“Nothing. I’m just checking in with you.”

Jensen stops typing and shuts down his computer. This is a lost cause. “I’m fine. I’m tired, it was a long day.”

“Understandable.” Saunders clears his throat and Jensen wonders if he really is in trouble. “How’s the family?”

“The family?” The lieutenant has never asked about his family before. “Why?”

“I wanted you to hear it from me. That your brother, Josh…”

Jensen forgets the rest of his sandwich immediately, he can feel the acid rise in his stomach. “What about him?”

“Rodriguez took a call last week for a violent domestic dispute. One of the neighbors called it in and it got pretty ugly. She didn’t arrest him, just a warning. Rodriguez said she didn’t think it was the first time.”

Fuck. There’s not much he can say and Saunders seems to understand this.

“I just thought you should know.” “Thanks for telling me.”



There’s no point in driving by Josh’s house. Jensen knows they’re out of town, but he does it anyway. A basket ball and a forgotten kite are in the grass, the front yard looking completely normal for a family with an active son.

Jensen drives home slowly, tempted to stop at his mom’s house and give her a piece of his mind, like it’s somehow all her fault. But it’s late and Jensen needs some peace and quiet. His head probably would explode if he has another fight.

All he wants to do is sleep, but again he’s restless for hours after he gets into bed. He’s too warm, then too cold, then thirsty and then he has to go to the bathroom, then the neighbors listen to loud music and the noise from the street keeps him up, along with his thoughts going a mile a minute in his mind. There were days when Jensen could have slept through all of this, he would sleep ten hours every night no problem. Those days seem like a million years ago.

He doesn’t know what makes him do it, the agitation or the stupidity from lack of sleep. The light from his cell phone is the only glow of brightness in his otherwise dark room and he presses send before he changes his mind.

“I can’t sleep.” He says, as soon as the line stops ringing.

“That seems to be a regular problem that you have.”

Jared’s voice is instantly soothing. Deep and sexy, kind and strong.

“Any suggestions?” Jensen asks, flipping onto his stomach and closing his eyes.

“Well, there’s always zoning out and watching tv.”

“Tried it.”

“Counting sheep?”

“Useless.”

“Hmm…” Jared shifts and Jensen wonders if he’s in bed too, if he woke Jared up. It doesn’t sound like it though. “Did you try masturbating? I hear that can knock some guys out almost instantly.”

Jensen laughs loudly, surprised by Jared’s bluntness. The guy seems so careful, always saying the right things. It makes Jensen think back to that heated kiss they shared and how he wants a repeat, longer and harder makeout session.

“Does it for you?” Jensen asks bravely, turned on by this whole different direction the conversation is going.

“Maybe.”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“Well it’s not like I’m proud of it.” Jared says, trying to hold in laughter too. “How did we get on this topic? You tricked me into embarrassing myself.”

Jensen can’t stop smiling and feels a bit like a fool. “I believe we were trying to help me fall asleep.”

“Oh yeah.” There’s movement again and a shuffle of material.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” Jared replies. He’s fast to say it, almost as if he doesn’t want Jensen to go. “Not at all.”

“What were you doing?”

“Reading in bed.”

“Oh.” Jensen doesn’t know why he’s surprised by that either. He wants to ask what book, but doesn’t think Jared will answer him. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really.”

Jensen knew it. And now he can hear weird sounds in the background, people talking and cars driving by. “What’s that noise?”

“The tv.” Jared says quickly, almost too hasty like he’s lying. “Some cop show is on.”

“Oh god,” Jensen moans. “Those are the worst.”

“You don’t like them?” Jared asks lightly. “I thought they’d be right up your alley.”

“Please. CSI, man? It’s just so bad. The sunglasses, the acting, the silly dialogue. Real cops don’t talk like that.”

“They don’t? I’m shocked.” The teasing tone of Jared’s voice is something else entirely. Jensen is captivated by it. “You just ruined hours of cop drama television I was planning on watching.”

“Then I did you a favor.” Jensen tells him. “You owe me one.”

Jared laughs, the amusement a sweet sound. “I guess we’re even now, huh?”

Jensen thinks that he owes Jared his life and it’s nice that Jared won’t bring it up. “Hey you didn’t have a tv when I was at your place.”

“There’s this awesome place called Sears, Jensen. They sell electronics in exchange of money. It’s really quite fascinating.”

Now Jared wants to banter? Jensen is the king of banter. “And you have money?”

“I have enough to get by.”

“Right…” Jensen doesn’t believe him. “It’s okay if you’re not rich, Jared. There’re things to life other than material bullshit.”

“You won’t be mad if I can’t shower you with diamonds?”

“Oh I’ll be really bummed out.” Jensen fakes disappointment. “You’ll have to find other ways to get my attention.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“Oh I very much want to accept.” Jared says softly and then almost in a whisper, “If you’ll let me. I’m not sure you want my attention to begin with.”

“I do. I just…” Jensen trails off, thinks about what he wants to say, thinks about giving Morgan that glass this morning and trying to look up Jared’s information in the data base today. As much as he wants to find out who he is, Jensen’s scared too. What if Jared is someone who he can’t be with? What if the things he discovers, he won’t like? What if… well, there’s a lot of what ifs. But really, does he even want to know? This morning Jensen was sure, but now he finds himself just wanting what Jared is able to offer him, even if it’s not much. “Maybe we can go slow? I still don’t know much about you--”

“Jensen…”

“And I get that won’t change any time soon, but maybe you’ll be ready some day. But for now I can just go with it. We can start from here.”

“Really?” Jared sounds relieved, grateful even.

“Yeah, I guess. Just slow. We’ll go slow.” Jensen wonders if he’s lying to Jared right now. That maybe he’ll change his mind and try to nudge a little, see what else he can find out about him.

“Of course.”

The ring of Jensen’s front door bell chimes and he can hear it echo over the phone as well. “Oh god. Is that you?”

“You gonna let me in?”

Jensen’s already out of his bed, bare feet cold on the hallway floor as he makes his way towards the front room. “I thought we just agreed that we’re gonna go slow.” He opens the door and Jared is standing there, dimples carved into his cheeks as Jensen comes into view.

“We can go slow. See? This is me going slow.” Jared slides his cell phone in his pocket and gives Jensen a small smile.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s not that late, Jensen.” His eyes are so hopeful and Jensen gives, pushes the door more open so Jared can come in.

Jensen finds it a little strange that they’re in the same situation, him in his briefs again and Jared following him to his bedroom. Except this time there’s no coffee and it is actually late, despite what Jared thinks.

“So you’ve let me into your bedroom…” Jared starts, a hint of teasing but still not entirely sure of how to move forward. “This makes two times now, in case you forgot. But will you let me in your bed?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and crawls under the covers. “I’m not some chick.”

“Says the guy who needs to go slow.”

And that’s just plain mean.

Jensen glares. “You do know I have a gun, right? Don’t mock the guy with a gun.”

“My apologies.” Jared grins, takes his navy coat off and leaves it on the floor. He’s wearing a pair of sweat pants and a thin white t-shirt, not worn from age but still soft. He gets in the bed, but still leaves Jensen some space. “So… why can’t you sleep?”

Jensen cuddles the pillow under his cheek and lays straight, not touching Jared at all. He has to look up because Jared is sitting, leaning up against the headboard.

“Honestly? My family sucks.”

“Ah. Good old family issues. A classic problem.”

Jensen sighs deeply, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Yeah, well. Issues don’t even begin to describe the kind of damaged my family is. You got problems with your family too?”

“My parents died a long time ago.” Jared says quietly. “And I don’t have any other siblings… or anyone else.”

“Oh.” Jensen feels dumb for being so insensitive, especially when Jared stiffens a little. “Well you can have mine.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jensen’s eyelids are heavy now, like a ton of bricks are weighing them down. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Jared scoots down so he’s looking at Jensen now. “Maybe from scratch?”

Jensen can’t help but to smile. Of course, why didn’t he think of that? “The sun would be up before I’d be able to finish.”

He can feel his heart pump like mad in his chest as Jared raises his hand, skims the back of his knuckles across Jensen’s cheek, stares at him for a few more beats as he leans over for a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I’ve got time.”

Part 4