Schmoop Bingo Extra - Where I'm Not Alone
Title: Where I'm Not Alone
Author: Redsirenfiction
Fandom: CWRPS (J2)
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Mentions of child death. A metric ton of angst..
Disclaimer: Don't own them. This is all a mirage.
Summary: Jensen's moving on auto-pilot, pretending to live. |SOUNDTRACK|
Notes: This fic was written in an hour. It's unbetaed, and probably sucks. It's NOT a happy fic, and unlike some of the other extras, does NOT end happily. It deals with the death of the boys' first child, so you've been warned. And before you ask, no, I did not have a good day.
Word Count: 1540
Jensen goes back to being silent the day after the funeral. At nine, he wakes up, makes breakfast for Jared, and then heads out to run errands. He's running on auto-pilot and he knows it, but normalcy is something he desperately needs, and he won't get it if he's in the house.
He spends most of the morning going from shop to shop in their sleepy little hillside community, deftly avoiding those that know of his recent loss. The few he can't avoid, he speaks with as little as possible, giving the excuse that he's in a hurry, and being as polite as he can while still trying to cut things short.
Twice he has to stop from getting out of his truck because the emotion, the complete atrociousness of the situation, threatens to overwhelm him. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looks down at the list of things he needed to get and crosses off the second-to-last item. He only has one more stop before he has no good excuse to be out.
Pick up flowers for Jared.
It had started as a joke, back when their love was still new, and things were still uncertain. After Italy, it became their 'thing'. Whenever the situation called for it, one would get the other flowers, Jensen usually playing the role of the buyer, while Jared graciously accepted them and put them in a place of prominence in their house so everyone could be jealous.
Now, however, it seems almost as if he's rubbing salt into a still-bleeding wound. His feet feel like they're encased in cement as he walks towards Marie's flower shop. She's been the only person he buys from since he moved here for the show, and that's not likely to change any time soon.
The minute he's in the door, he's engulfed in a hug so warm and tight, it takes his breath away.
“I'm so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs softly, the older woman's apology feeling somehow more sincere to Jensen than any of the others he's received since their daughter's death.
“It's okay,” he whispers numbly, eyes closing against the sting of tears.
“No. It's not. Jensen Ross Ackles, don't you dare start telling people it's okay that your daughter died! It is your absolute right to grieve, to be angry, to cuss out any sonofabitch who so much as looks at you the wrong way!” She admonishes sternly while wiping her own eyes. Jensen wants to laugh, but can't find the strength. Instead, he clears his throat softly, and merely nods his understanding of her words.
She smooths down her apron, and takes a couple of breaths before looking back up at him with motherly attention.
“The usual, Marie. Please.” Jensen all but whispers, his lip caught firmly between his teeth as he tries to keep from running out of the store, screaming. She nods, moving behind the counter to quickly arrange a bouquet of her best, most brightly-colored flowers. Jensen is enthralled by his boots as he waits, picking out every last blemish on the worn leather as though staring hard enough at them will make them magically disappear.
“There you go, sweetie, and if you need anything-and I mean anything-you call any time, day or night.” Marie hands him the beautifully-made gathering of Gerberas, her eyes filled to the brim. She doesn't ask who the flowers are for anymore; knows they're for Jared.
Jensen's about to thank her when she places another, smaller, bouquet in his hands. He feels sick almost immediately, because there's no question as to who the miniature arrangement is for.
“She deserves something beautiful,” Marie merely whispers by way of explanation and he nods, too choked up to give a verbal answer. He pulls his credit card out, but Marie waves it away, practically pushing him out of the shop and telling him to give Jared a hug for her. Jensen can only nod, still reeling.
It scares him that he doesn't let out a sob once he's in the car, but Jensen has the feeling that something broke inside of him the moment the doctors told him the news. Something that won't be repaired in the foreseeable future. Sighing, he sets both bouquets on the passenger seat and drives home.
Jared is sitting at their kitchen table when he comes back, one hand resting on his stomach, the other bracing his head. A moment of panic washes over Jensen until he remembers that Jared isn't pregnant anymore.
“Where'd you go?” Jared's words are quiet, not without hurt, and Jensen realizes he forgot to leave a note on the whiteboard.
“Ran some errands. Brought you some flowers,” Jensen whispers, holding out the bouquet.
“Thank you,” Jared pecks him on the cheek affectionately, standing to go put the flowers in water. It only takes a moment for him to notice the second arrangement.
“Marie told me that Andrea deserved something beautiful.” He's not sure how he gets the words out, but they float out into the silence of their home. Jensen sets them on the table carefully, eyes slipping closed as he steps away and heads back towards their shared office.
The pattern repeats itself for almost a week before Jensen is so run-down that even strangers are startled by his appearance. He's stopped shaving, stopped doing anything with his hair, and stopped caring about what shirt he's putting on in the mornings. He wakes at nine, goes out, comes back, and stays in the office until the sun begins to make its slow slide down under the mountains.
One day four, Jared blocks the french doors to the room with a chain and a padlock. Jensen sees red.
“What the fuck, Jay? Let me into the goddamn office!” he barks, trying and failing to uncoil the tightly wound links from the brass handles.
“No.” Jared states plainly, arms crossed over his chest as he comes to stand in front of his husband.
“What? Why the hell not?”
“Because you can't keep doing this to yourself,” Jared replies, motioning up at down, his eyes following his hand.
“Doing what?”
“Going through the motions. Pretending to live your life. Everyone can see that you're hurting, Jen. So why are you trying to delude yourself? It's okay to feel like the world's ended. I've been feeling like that since you put her in my arms. Doing this, pretending to ignore it, won't make it go away.”
“Fuck you.” Jensen spits, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. Jared doesn't follow him.
He drives aimlessly, running red lights, cutting off people, and nearly colliding with a telephone poll when he takes a curve too fast. When he finally throws the truck into park, he has to do a double-take.
Mountainside Cemetery
Jensen feels the tears bubble up before he can stop them. Head bowed, he takes a few gasping breaths before putting the car into reverse and heading for the only person in the world who will understand.
“JARED!” He wails as he comes through the door, Jensen not feeling the sharp sting of his knees hitting the tile of their entryway as he covers his face with his hands.
His husband's strong arms are around him in an instant, and Jensen hears the door slam shut behind him, giving them the privacy that they need.
“I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Jen. Just let it out,” Jared whispers, and Jensen can hear the anguish in his voice.
“Our baby girl's gone!” Every muscle spasms violently, Jensen's face instantly soaked with tears that have been kept back for too long. He hasn't cried this hard since he was a little boy and his best friend moved away. It seemed like the end of the world back then, too.
Jared doesn't hush him, doesn't placate him with mindless platitudes. Just holds him, cries with him, shares in his grief.
“I want her back!” Jensen can't get enough air into his lungs and he's not sure if he wants to. Curling up and letting his soul leave his body sounds pretty good right about now and he knows that had Jared gone with their daughter, that he'd be following not long after.
“I do too, Jen. I do too,” Jared whimpers, one big hand clutching the back of Jensen's head, his husband still trying to comfort him despite his own anguish.
They stay locked like that for several minutes before Jensen pulls away and wordlessly pads up the stairs to their bedroom. Jared follows, watching Jensen closely as he showers and gets back into bed wearing his oldest UT shirt and a fresh pair of boxers. Nothing needs to be said as Jensen feels Jared climb in behind him, his husband's arms locking him in an embrace.
“What are we going to do?” he asks, turning to face Jared, eyes blurry from so many tears.
“I don't know,” Jared replies, his head bowing to rest against the top of Jensen's.
Jensen's shoulders shake as he cries himself to sleep, hands clutching Jared to keep him from slipping away too.
Author: Redsirenfiction
Fandom: CWRPS (J2)
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Mentions of child death. A metric ton of angst..
Disclaimer: Don't own them. This is all a mirage.
Summary: Jensen's moving on auto-pilot, pretending to live. |SOUNDTRACK|
Notes: This fic was written in an hour. It's unbetaed, and probably sucks. It's NOT a happy fic, and unlike some of the other extras, does NOT end happily. It deals with the death of the boys' first child, so you've been warned. And before you ask, no, I did not have a good day.
Word Count: 1540
Jensen goes back to being silent the day after the funeral. At nine, he wakes up, makes breakfast for Jared, and then heads out to run errands. He's running on auto-pilot and he knows it, but normalcy is something he desperately needs, and he won't get it if he's in the house.
He spends most of the morning going from shop to shop in their sleepy little hillside community, deftly avoiding those that know of his recent loss. The few he can't avoid, he speaks with as little as possible, giving the excuse that he's in a hurry, and being as polite as he can while still trying to cut things short.
Twice he has to stop from getting out of his truck because the emotion, the complete atrociousness of the situation, threatens to overwhelm him. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looks down at the list of things he needed to get and crosses off the second-to-last item. He only has one more stop before he has no good excuse to be out.
Pick up flowers for Jared.
It had started as a joke, back when their love was still new, and things were still uncertain. After Italy, it became their 'thing'. Whenever the situation called for it, one would get the other flowers, Jensen usually playing the role of the buyer, while Jared graciously accepted them and put them in a place of prominence in their house so everyone could be jealous.
Now, however, it seems almost as if he's rubbing salt into a still-bleeding wound. His feet feel like they're encased in cement as he walks towards Marie's flower shop. She's been the only person he buys from since he moved here for the show, and that's not likely to change any time soon.
The minute he's in the door, he's engulfed in a hug so warm and tight, it takes his breath away.
“I'm so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs softly, the older woman's apology feeling somehow more sincere to Jensen than any of the others he's received since their daughter's death.
“It's okay,” he whispers numbly, eyes closing against the sting of tears.
“No. It's not. Jensen Ross Ackles, don't you dare start telling people it's okay that your daughter died! It is your absolute right to grieve, to be angry, to cuss out any sonofabitch who so much as looks at you the wrong way!” She admonishes sternly while wiping her own eyes. Jensen wants to laugh, but can't find the strength. Instead, he clears his throat softly, and merely nods his understanding of her words.
She smooths down her apron, and takes a couple of breaths before looking back up at him with motherly attention.
“The usual, Marie. Please.” Jensen all but whispers, his lip caught firmly between his teeth as he tries to keep from running out of the store, screaming. She nods, moving behind the counter to quickly arrange a bouquet of her best, most brightly-colored flowers. Jensen is enthralled by his boots as he waits, picking out every last blemish on the worn leather as though staring hard enough at them will make them magically disappear.
“There you go, sweetie, and if you need anything-and I mean anything-you call any time, day or night.” Marie hands him the beautifully-made gathering of Gerberas, her eyes filled to the brim. She doesn't ask who the flowers are for anymore; knows they're for Jared.
Jensen's about to thank her when she places another, smaller, bouquet in his hands. He feels sick almost immediately, because there's no question as to who the miniature arrangement is for.
“She deserves something beautiful,” Marie merely whispers by way of explanation and he nods, too choked up to give a verbal answer. He pulls his credit card out, but Marie waves it away, practically pushing him out of the shop and telling him to give Jared a hug for her. Jensen can only nod, still reeling.
It scares him that he doesn't let out a sob once he's in the car, but Jensen has the feeling that something broke inside of him the moment the doctors told him the news. Something that won't be repaired in the foreseeable future. Sighing, he sets both bouquets on the passenger seat and drives home.
Jared is sitting at their kitchen table when he comes back, one hand resting on his stomach, the other bracing his head. A moment of panic washes over Jensen until he remembers that Jared isn't pregnant anymore.
“Where'd you go?” Jared's words are quiet, not without hurt, and Jensen realizes he forgot to leave a note on the whiteboard.
“Ran some errands. Brought you some flowers,” Jensen whispers, holding out the bouquet.
“Thank you,” Jared pecks him on the cheek affectionately, standing to go put the flowers in water. It only takes a moment for him to notice the second arrangement.
“Marie told me that Andrea deserved something beautiful.” He's not sure how he gets the words out, but they float out into the silence of their home. Jensen sets them on the table carefully, eyes slipping closed as he steps away and heads back towards their shared office.
The pattern repeats itself for almost a week before Jensen is so run-down that even strangers are startled by his appearance. He's stopped shaving, stopped doing anything with his hair, and stopped caring about what shirt he's putting on in the mornings. He wakes at nine, goes out, comes back, and stays in the office until the sun begins to make its slow slide down under the mountains.
One day four, Jared blocks the french doors to the room with a chain and a padlock. Jensen sees red.
“What the fuck, Jay? Let me into the goddamn office!” he barks, trying and failing to uncoil the tightly wound links from the brass handles.
“No.” Jared states plainly, arms crossed over his chest as he comes to stand in front of his husband.
“What? Why the hell not?”
“Because you can't keep doing this to yourself,” Jared replies, motioning up at down, his eyes following his hand.
“Doing what?”
“Going through the motions. Pretending to live your life. Everyone can see that you're hurting, Jen. So why are you trying to delude yourself? It's okay to feel like the world's ended. I've been feeling like that since you put her in my arms. Doing this, pretending to ignore it, won't make it go away.”
“Fuck you.” Jensen spits, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. Jared doesn't follow him.
He drives aimlessly, running red lights, cutting off people, and nearly colliding with a telephone poll when he takes a curve too fast. When he finally throws the truck into park, he has to do a double-take.
Mountainside Cemetery
Jensen feels the tears bubble up before he can stop them. Head bowed, he takes a few gasping breaths before putting the car into reverse and heading for the only person in the world who will understand.
“JARED!” He wails as he comes through the door, Jensen not feeling the sharp sting of his knees hitting the tile of their entryway as he covers his face with his hands.
His husband's strong arms are around him in an instant, and Jensen hears the door slam shut behind him, giving them the privacy that they need.
“I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Jen. Just let it out,” Jared whispers, and Jensen can hear the anguish in his voice.
“Our baby girl's gone!” Every muscle spasms violently, Jensen's face instantly soaked with tears that have been kept back for too long. He hasn't cried this hard since he was a little boy and his best friend moved away. It seemed like the end of the world back then, too.
Jared doesn't hush him, doesn't placate him with mindless platitudes. Just holds him, cries with him, shares in his grief.
“I want her back!” Jensen can't get enough air into his lungs and he's not sure if he wants to. Curling up and letting his soul leave his body sounds pretty good right about now and he knows that had Jared gone with their daughter, that he'd be following not long after.
“I do too, Jen. I do too,” Jared whimpers, one big hand clutching the back of Jensen's head, his husband still trying to comfort him despite his own anguish.
They stay locked like that for several minutes before Jensen pulls away and wordlessly pads up the stairs to their bedroom. Jared follows, watching Jensen closely as he showers and gets back into bed wearing his oldest UT shirt and a fresh pair of boxers. Nothing needs to be said as Jensen feels Jared climb in behind him, his husband's arms locking him in an embrace.
“What are we going to do?” he asks, turning to face Jared, eyes blurry from so many tears.
“I don't know,” Jared replies, his head bowing to rest against the top of Jensen's.
Jensen's shoulders shake as he cries himself to sleep, hands clutching Jared to keep him from slipping away too.