an unseen nest where a mountain would be, J2 AU, 1/1, [PG], beach!verse

[sandymg]

Title: an unseen nest where a mountain would be
AO3 | Beach Verse Master Post
Author: sandymg
Beta borgmama1of5
Summary: With both Jared and Danni out of town, Jensen gets some private Mom-time. (part of the beach!verse)
Wordcount: 6,200 - one-shot
Genre: RPS, J2 AU
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating/Warnings: PG
Disclaimer: This is fiction. No harm intended. No profit made.
A/N: Story title from the poem Choices by Tess Gallagher
A/N2: Verse can be read chronologically or in the order written starting with past indifferent seagulls. This is the last story chronologically and all are linked that way.

an unseen nest where a mountain would be

The first night is easy.

Jensen can’t say he misses anyone yet. Sure, the bed feels loose and his limbs sprawl jaggedly, heel tracing the imprint of missing heat. But pulling the blankets tight against himself, cocoon-like, helps him fight the chill.

Maybe it takes a little longer than usual to fall asleep. Perhaps he indulges in a drink before bed. He settles himself and feels the warm flush of the whiskey ghost under his skin.

Jared’s last text is shining brightly on his phone, glowing like a firefly beneath the blanket. It reminds him of the fortresses he and Danni would build as kids, giggling and hiding and spooking each other until Danni’s mom inevitably would come in with a fond chuckle.

Time for bed, kids. You can laugh all you want tomorrow. I promise.

They were always in Danni’s house. The handful of sleepovers they’d had at his own home had Danni sleeping on the sofa downstairs.

I don’t know what goes on at her house, Jensen, but here, you will act properly.

He thinks that if Danni were home, she’d be with him right now. Certainly she’d want to invade his privacy on this first night. Probably it would have been all plotted out beforehand between Danni and Jared. Make sure that Jensen is okay, that he’s not lonely or cold or wistful or whatever it is that Jared thinks happens to him when Jared isn’t here.

Jensen would have kicked her out of his room and back to her own, of course. He doesn’t like sleeping with anyone. It’s best to sleep alone. Jared is … well. Jared doesn’t count in the world of normal. No, it’s for the best that Danni and Jared had ended up travelling at the same time.

The light of the phone dims and the room is now illuminated by the pale shimmers from the moonlight. He can’t see the ocean from his window, but he imagines he hears her gurgling sweetly, like a child’s soft snuffle. She’s calm tonight. He knows that because earlier he’d walked along the beach, slowly, despite the bitter January air. As long as the wind is still, he likes his solitary walks, can handle his breath turning visible with each exhale. His parka is warm and he knows how to dress in layers and the cold is always about so much more than just weather.

He’s felt hot in freezing temperatures and icy when the thermometer was threatening to burst. Yet Jared talks about Jensen’s warmth all the time. Tries to hold up this magic mirror and turn Jensen into a real boy.

Crazily enough. Sometimes it works.

The alcohol is anchoring his limbs and he lets them relax into the sheets, sinks himself deeper and shuts his eyes. A moment later they open again and he flicks his finger against the phone still in his palm, sparking it to life and bringing it up to his face.

First, he reads Danni’s message.

Ciao! Don’t forget to feed Dot and smile … I’ll be home before you know it. Or not. Maybe I’ll elope with a hot Italiano ;)

“I fed the damn cat,” he says aloud and his voice scrapes rough in his ears, unfamiliar and off. Until he remembers that that is what it sounds like when he doesn’t use it much. Frowning, he flips to the next and final message.

I love you I love you I love you. God, I don’t know how I’m going to fall asleep tonight. Miss you like crazy already.

He’d replied a long time ago. And he’d made himself say more than just goodnight. He’d written Jared he loved him, too. But he didn’t say he missed him because it was ridiculously soon for that. Jared had left just that morning. He can still feel the press of Jared’s lips against his own, the slight throb in his ass where Jared had literally fucked him into the mattress that morning. He still imagines the imprint of arms surrounding and fingertips flicking over his skin, like brushes on canvas, lips following with nonsense whisper-kisses, and eyes that never, ever, leave his own.

God, look at you. So gorgeous. Beautiful. Fucking perfect.

Jared wasn’t the first man to tell Jensen he’s beautiful. But he’s the first to mean it like a religion. The sap had fucking tears in his eyes as they kissed goodbye at the door. Wouldn’t let Jensen drive him to the airport. Didn’t want to embarrass Jensen in public, wanted to say goodbye privately.

It’s enough to make one think Jared isn’t going to be away for only four weeks.

Swinging his feet out of bed Jensen tells himself one more drink isn’t a big deal.

Dot looks up from her bowl where she’s been grazing off and on all night and he leans down to pet her absently. This makes her want to play and she figure-eights around his feet, purring loudly.

“Sorry. Not nocturnal like you are.”

Although given the time and his awake status, her confusion is understandable.

This is ridiculous, he scolds himself as the finger of whiskey burns down his throat in one gulp.

The first night is easy.

Two drinks, one round of catch-the-laser-light, and a final slow read of his text messages later, Jensen falls asleep.

~~

Jensen mixes a small amount of silver into the snowy paint, upper teeth digging into his bottom lip in concentration. It’s not easy capturing ice. He has taken photos of the icicles that hang from the gingerbread eaves of his gallery studio because it’s too cold to paint outdoors. He doesn’t like working from photos, though, finds it a barrier like a gauzy screen between his subject and his fingers. But since the icicles are only steps away to check, this works. Arm swooping over the canvas he shades the frozen weapon further, adds flickers of light as it reflects off the clear core.

He’s in the zone, there’s nothing but the pigments and the linseed oil and bristles tat tat tat against the canvas. His mind is mercifully quiet, chatter gone, frozen in stasis, waiting to thaw later, when he’s alone again.

Now. Here. It is different. He is an ice particle, a frozen dew drop. He is the ocean, still and indigo against the pebble gray sky, the sand, packed solid as concrete, held in winter’s tight embrace.

A female voice startles a crack within the frozen lake of his mind. It takes several blinks for him to acknowledge the woman behind him with a question.

“Is it lunchtime already?”

“I’m early.”

He turns to face his mother. She is unwrapping a scarf from her neck, with the deliberation she uses to peel an orange. He doesn’t recognize this one. He’s bought her many scarves over the years, yet he can’t really recall her wearing any of them. This one is long and salmon-colored, with a seashell pink tassel trim. It’s a nice contrast to her long, peat-brown coat. He wouldn’t have bought that scarf for her, he gives her basic black or sometimes white. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t wear the ones he buys her, maybe he isn’t aware enough to surround her in color.

She looks at the paintings in various stages of completeness around the walls.

“Haven’t branched out much, I see.”

He follows her gaze to the landscapes. It’s what he paints. Some have figures in them, most do not. These are all winterscapes, shades varying from cotton to midnight. Jared has teased that Jensen is the king of grays. It led to Shades of Grey jokes, which led to a kink discussion, which led to a blood red silk scarf and yet more sniggering until it dissolved into muffled ecstatic cries.

“I like the beach,” Jensen answers on autopilot. It’s not the first time his mother has pointed out the sameness in Jensen’s paintings.

She shakes her head. “It never fails to amaze me that you can support yourself with these.” Her eyes rove over the paintings again before she looks at him, head tilting as she takes his measure, eyes narrowing as if he’s hiding a Golden Goose somewhere and has horded the treasure.

If Jared were here, he’d say something, he never lets it go, no matter how futile.

Jensen’s work is extraordinary. He’s been recognized by art critics from Los Angeles to New York. His paintings have sold at auction houses.

These facts mean nothing to Jensen’s mother. The art is dull in a way that Donna can never be, would never accept. He can hear Jay admonishing him that they aren’t dull, they are subdued and layered and beautiful. That’s one of Jared’s favorite words when it comes to Jensen.

But Jared isn’t here and can’t rebut Jensen’s internal assertion that Jared is being absurd.

Donna’s coat collar and cuffs are trimmed with fur. Jensen knows it’s not real because she couldn’t afford it, not because she wouldn’t wear it. His mother isn’t particularly sympathetic to animals. They are food and clothing and nothing more. Donna once told ten-year-old Jensen she didn’t understand why everyone got down on Cruella Deville. Seemed like much ado about nothing in her opinion. Jensen has never told Jared that.

He’s been lost in his head and now notices that she’s taken off her coat and is holding it draped elegantly across both arms. There is no safe place in her mind for her to place it, not with paint droppings everywhere.

“We should go,” he says, giving a last wistful look at his painting. He was so close to capturing what was hidden in the icy stake. The sun was bright today and he thinks the icicle will melt before he returns to it. Of course, he has the photo but that’s not the same thing, won’t help when he needs to pop outside and view the rainbow hiding in its depth.

She says nothing further, just returns to the gallery side of his studio, where at least all she has to complain about is dust.

~~

They settle into opposite sides of a booth in the town’s lonely diner. In the summertime, the small old-fashioned shop is bursting with tourists devouring ice cream sundaes in the air conditioned sanctuary.

The waitress brings them both coffee without being asked. “Hey Sue,” Jensen says.

His mother nods, “Susan” in acknowledgment almost at the same time. She almost never uses nicknames, doesn’t care for them.

“Hey, you two.” Sue has worked at the Ocean Diner for as long as Jensen remembers. She’s in her sixties now, thicker in the middle than when he was a kid. Her hair is cut short and colored in a mix of ochre and gold that his mother used to refer to as ‘frosted’.

Danni had told Jensen that treatments like that are called highlights. She even talked him into trying it himself. At first he was paranoid he’d end up with a bizarre mix of chocolate and butterscotch hair but Danni merely gave him a sideways look and said, “Really. Would I ever let you go to someone who’d do that?”

She hadn’t, of course. Jensen had rather liked the subtle blond shimmers in his hair. It’s been a couple of years since he’d stopped having it done. He wonders what Jared would make of it? Would he like it? Or would he say he prefers Jensen’s dirty blond locks as they are? Would he laugh and call Jensen a girl?

Sue hands them menus before looking around with a puzzled, “Huh?” A moment later she catches Jensen’s eye. “Where’s Jay?” Her eyes glance outside at the bright, extra clear day. “He out there causing all that sunshine?” She laughs, hand coming up to cover her missing teeth as is her way.

Before Jensen gets a chance to reply, Donna pipes in, “Jared is studying for his education degree in California.”

The waitress’s eyes grow huge. “What? He couldn’t have left like that without saying goodbye.” Then as if realizing what she is saying, and who she is saying it in front of, she goes silently uncomfortable.

“It’s a four-week seminar,” Jensen says into the void.

Donna speaks as if Jensen hasn’t said anything. “They have one of the best programs for early education in the country. He’s lucky he got in. After this, I’m sure transferring to the program full-time will be a cinch.”

Susan looks back and forth between Donna and Jensen. Her eyes are warm mink brown and they deepen with sympathy.

Jensen hates when people look at him that way.

He is six years old and his grandmother takes him to the diner. Susan is their waitress. It is exciting to go out with Gram. She treats Jensen kindly, smiling at what he says, and lets him have treats. He feels special when she is around. Only Danni also makes him feel that way.

Eat up, Jensen, you’re too skinny as it is.

Mommy says to eat slowly.

Yes, well, your mother can be very exacting. I know she thinks she’s doing the right thing but look at you. All bones. Makes your freckles stand out.

I hate them.

You mean your freckles, dear?

Yeah. Looks like someone vomited all over my face.

Gram bites back a chuckle, eyes twinkling.

Shall I tell you a secret?

Jensen nods vigorously.

Your mother has them, too. She just covers them up by protecting herself in the sun and using a bleaching treatment.

This stuns Jensen who can’t imagine his alabaster mother covered in spots. He wonders if the bleach she has to get his underwear white is what she uses. He decides to ask Danni if that would work for him. He’s lost in thought when his Gram interrupts to offer him desert.

They make delicious sundaes here. Or maybe an ice cream soda?

The glass is curved like a woman and so cold that his fingers burn when he touches it. Maybe that should have been his warning, he thinks when a flash of platinum blond crosses his peripheral vision.

Mother, I told you that Jensen shouldn’t have sugar like that. It’s unhealthy.

Donna snaps her fingers and the stout waitress appears, hair mottled like one of Danni’s Barbies after an experiment with finger-paint hair dying.

Take this away. He’s not allowed to eat sugar.

Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am.

The eyes that meet his as the soda is removed are steeped in pity, moist like a muddy riverbank after a strong rain.

“Sue, Jared isn’t transferring anywhere. He’s attending a seminar.”

“The last time I saw the dear boy he chewed my ear off about the Santa Barbara program. It’s quite elite. And with his grades and aptitude, I told him they’d be lucky to have him in their Masters’ program.” Donna laughs, hearty and rich, from deep in her throat. “Of course, he could always return east. But really? A golden boy like that … it’s like he was made for California.”

Sue stammers. “J-Jensen would you consider--?”

This is ridiculous. Nobody is moving anywhere. He can’t … he lives here. This is his beach and Danni is here. She doesn’t want to go 3,000 miles away. Sure, she leaves a lot, travels the world over. But she always comes home. And then there’s Dot - Danni and Jared wouldn’t leave her even if they wanted to leave Jensen.

“Who?” his mother asks and, shit, he spoke aloud. Dammit. He really doesn’t want his mother to know about their pet. In the two weeks since Jared and Danni have been gone she hasn’t been over. He figured he could easily keep Dot a secret for the entire month.

He doesn’t reply and Donna waits a moment, then gives Sue her lunch order. Chef salad with light Ranch dressing on the side. It’s what she always gets.

Jensen orders the same. When he’s with Jared he allows himself the occasional hamburger. But not now.

Watching Sue walk away he avoids his mother’s critical stare for as long as possible. Turning back he presses his hands on the wooden tabletop and straightens his spine.

“We have a cat. Her name is Dorothy. We call her Dot.”

Donna’s mouth twitches as if smelling something nasty. Then she rolls her eyes. “I suppose Danneel came home with it. And then promptly takes off again leaving you holding the bag. Typical. Well, if it should wander out while she’s away, you wouldn’t be to blame.”

Heat flares under his collar. “I couldn’t … Mom, that would be terrible. Besides it wasn’t only Danni … it’s Jared’s cat, too.”

Jensen would rather lose an arm than have to ever tell Jared he’d lost Dot.

His mother considers him, eyes inscrutable under her carefully styled brows. “I see. Well, as they both aren’t here I’d say they bought it for you.”

That’s true in a way. The intent had been for Jensen not to be alone. Which was ridiculous, but then again Jared thought of it.

Donna sighs and puts her hand out, bringing it over his in an uncharacteristic show of affection. “Jensen, I did try to warn you … it’s not good to get too attached. Men like Jared, it’s not even like they mean to be that way. I never wanted to tell you this before because I didn’t want to upset you. But Jared, he’s very much like your father.”

Jensen’s heart jumps until it chokes his throat. He reaches for the coffee mug to help still him. He’s heard her describe his father before … he wasn’t tall like Jared. He was more Jensen’s height and shared Jensen’s general looks.

“Not physically, Jensen.” He startles because, again, he’s spitting words out before he can process them. “Larger than life. Full of energy and laughter and heat. Like the world revolves faster when he’s near. Like he lives off air and leaves a vacuum behind when he’s gone.”

She smiles at him now, softer than he’s seen in a very long time, pink lips tilting up just a little. It dissolves the years off her face and suddenly he remembers her tickling him, rolling around on her bed, long fingernails tracking a pecking motion across his ribs while he giggled so hard his belly hurt.

The smile fades slowly, returning her face to its usual neutral control. “I know I’ve been bitter at times. Not always fair to you.”

Jensen is staring now because who is this woman and what has she done with his mother?

“Mom?”

“Your father, when he was with me. He was everything. And I see how you … You have to stop and think. Be clear before it’s impossible to think straight. You’ve let yourself fall into this dream, Jensen. Danni is a grown woman with needs of her own. I know she’s loved you forever but one day she will have to face the fact that you can never love her back the same way and when that day comes, she’ll do what she should have done years ago. One day she’ll go and not come back.”

He’s spinning as if the earth was shaken off its axis. Danni doesn’t … she’s not pining after Jensen. She’s dating guys all the time and taking trips and living her life. He’s not stopping her from living. He loves her. There are two people on this earth he’d die for and she’s one of them.

The squeeze to his hand is back. “Jensen, why do you think they bought you that animal?”

“Jared said to keep me company while they were both away.”

Donna smiles patiently and swings her hand toward the window. “The high today will be five degrees. What did Jared tell you about the weather where he is?”

“Warm,” Jensen utters. “It’s always sunny. Always warm. I don’t think - I like seasons. Would hate it being always the same.”

She laughs. “You know, for all I rant about hating this town, I don’t really. It’s got something, doesn’t it? You can’t touch it, but it’s there. It’s home. Always has been.”

He nods, falling into her ocean stare. Blinking, he battles himself back up a staircase that seems to be moving away from him. “Jared is coming back. He said he was. I don’t know why you think he’s transferring-“

“I don’t know it, Jensen. You are right about that. But shouldn’t he? Ask yourself the truth about where Jared belongs.”

The clench around his heart tightens, it’s so constricted it stops the blood flow. “I could … I could paint anywhere. I could … “

“I thought that once,” she says softly.

He’s whirling, lightheaded and untethered. It would take only a wisp of a breeze to have him aloft, spiraling toward the sun to become less than ashes. “You would have followed Dad?” His voice is reedy, higher than usual, more boy than man. “But couldn’t because of m-me.”

“Well, yes.” She pauses, brows furrowing slightly but voice solid and sure as ever. “But not only because of you, dear. I had a choice. Sometimes I forget that. He ran off to chase his dreams.”

“And you stayed behind to have me,” Jensen interrupts.

His mother’s eyes remind him of a dawn sky when the mist is high and battles the sun for dominance. “Not behind, Jensen. Home. I stayed home and raised you.” She straightens up and pulls her hand away, the assessing look is back and it locks Jensen in his seat. “It amazes me how different we are. And it’s not like you are like your father, because you’re not. There’ve been times I thought you were switched for another baby in the hospital.”

Susan returns then with their salads and smiles when she hears Donna laughing, oblivious to the stress emanating off Jensen in rolling waves.

After taking a few careful bites Donna returns to her previous train of thought. “Jared isn’t like you either.”

Jensen knows that, can’t help but subtly nod at this true statement. His mother brings her lips together and pats the table for emphasis. “Of course you know that, Jensen. So that’s why I’m telling you that reading this trip of his as reality, rather than some fanciful fairytale, is in your best interest.”

“He wanted to go to school out there originally,” Jensen admits.

Donna’s brows rise. “You didn’t tell me that before.”

Jensen colors, heat flushing his face. “Last October … we split up for a while. He told me about graduate programs in California and I …“ He grabs the mug to take a gulp before continuing. “But then he said he didn’t want it.”

She sighs. “Yet where is he now?”

Picking up his fork, Jensen stabs at the lettuce without lifting it. He has no appetite. Leaning forward he meets her eyes, icy blue and fathomless. Is it any wonder he’s considered the ocean his second mother all his life? “How did you do it? When Dad left - and Gram and Gramps were barely speaking to you.”

He watches her chew her salad, mouth moving silently, carefully. She swallows and her throat vibrates slightly. Napkin coming up automatically, she wipes at the corner of each lip. “I made a choice, Jensen. It’s as simple as that.”

~~

Exactly five minutes after ignoring Jared’s attempt to FaceTime him, Jensen’s cell phone rings.

His message app dings announcing a new text about four minutes after that. This happens six more times in a row.

The phone rings again.

Jensen shuts it off and knows he will have to lie about that. Will have to say he was out of power. Lying has always come easily to him. It’s been a part of him for so long he sometimes doesn’t know where honesty starts or ends.

Saying he is not eating sweets at Danni’s. Swearing Danni’s mom is home when she’s not. Later, saying he is at the library to sneak out with a boy. So many boys. Eventually, his mother knows and he doesn’t have to lie. But by then it’s too late, it’s habit. The less she knows the better. Her knowing means afternoons like today. Suffocating in truth. Nobody lies better than his mother. Except to Jensen she tells the stone cold truth.

His laptop beeps at him indicating an email.

Dammit. Jared will worry. It’s ridiculous because Jensen is a grown man and worrying is ludicrous. But if today is about truth then he can’t hide from this one.

He thinks of what will be easiest. An email, of course, but Jared will never accept that.

Dot jumps up to perch on the back of the sofa. Her fur is charcoal, spotted with snow. She moves her eyes from side to side tracing a dust mote under the incandescent glow of the table lamp. They are like black buttons on her face. She resembles more a toy than a living creature.

As if sensing his attention she looks up at him and meows once plaintively. He walks over and slips his fingers over the silky hairs atop her head. She preens backward to give him better access and his thumb scrapes the down under her chin.

“I’m an idiot,” he tells Dot. She purrs, a soft engine sound. “It’s not like I ever got to keep anything before.”

Dot’s fur is warm beneath his cold fingers, it throbs with vitality, as she tracks daintily back and forth along the edge of the sofa back. “I have to make a phone call,” he says. Reluctantly, he pulls his hand away. Her ears snap up but she doesn’t move away. “Gonna wait for me, eh? Might need you when I’m done.”

It’s another fifteen minutes and three more email indicators before he presses Jared’s name on his favorite’s list.

“Jen! Hey, I’ve been trying you. Were you out?”

Jensen can hear the forced casual in Jared’s tone. “My phone died,” he says, voice steady with practiced art. “Didn’t notice right away. Sorry.”

“’S okay,” Jared says, calmness entering his breathing. He sounds like he’s stretching.

“Long day?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah. Look, I … I was supposed to head back out but-“

“No, that’s fine. Was about to head to bed anyway.” The lying is growing easier. It’s only eleven and Jensen doesn’t know when his mind will slow enough to allow the bliss of sleep. It might take medication for that to happen.

Jared hesitates. “Jen … I don’t. It’s not important. I mean, it was just some of us were gonna meet up. But we didn’t get to talk at all-“

“Jay, no worries, really. Go and have fun.”

“It’s Sunday,” Jay blurts out.

Jensen chuckles despite himself. “Yep, like it was the week before.”

“You meet your mom for lunch?”

Aha. Time to get Oscar-worthy. “As always.” He forces a laugh and it might not fool in person but over a cell phone he stands a chance. “I ate my salad like a dutiful son. C’mon, Jay, stop mothering me. ‘M just beat from a nearly all-day painting spree.”

Jared’s voice chirps up. “Yeah? You were working?”

“Mmm.”

“Whatcha painting?”

Jensen pauses thinking of the icicles and how when he’d first spotted them he thought of the myriad of colors in Jay’s eyes. “Ice,” he answers.

Jared laughs. “How in the world does one paint ice?”

Dot jumps down onto Jensen’s lap and he’s stroking her with his free hand. “Icicles,” he replies. “They were hanging from the eaves at the studio. Looked gothic almost. Like the pointy teeth of a prehistoric monster.” Or the jagged tears of a little boy not allowed to cry.

“Sounds great. Can’t wait to see it.”

The reminder about Sunday brings Jensen full circle and for the first time he can’t keep his voice in as tight control as he’d like. “Did you get to meet with the Dean at brunch like you thought?”

Jared had mentioned it a few days ago. That the professor heading the seminar was hosting an event for the class to get together informally with the heads of the program.

The question opens the floodgates and Jared spews enthusiasm so palpable that Jensen is quaking from it. Jared got to discuss education theory and experimental programs and special learning techniques and everyone there is practically a legend.

“ … And then there’s me, soaking it up like a sponge. It was great. I’ve got like 100 pages of reading to do before tomorrow. But, yeah, amazing. It’s like they are willing to toss out the stale and create new paradigms for how to educate. That’s the kind of teacher I hope to be one day. Change a life. One at a time.”

Changed mine, Jensen thinks.

He stares at Dot as he asks the inevitable. “They want you, don’t they?”

It takes five seconds of silence to pierce Jensen’s heart.

He nods at Dot like she might understand the importance of Jared’s pause. “ … Jen … it’s not … I mean there are options sure, but-“

“Jay, I get it. I do. Choices,” he says, like that explains everything and maybe it does. “You have them and that’s great.”

“I told you I won’t make any decisions without you. I mean that.” There’s a frustrated almost growl. “Shit. I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

Of all the things that Jensen has heard today - that’s what does it, splinters the remainder of his heart as surely as if the icicle had speared him. “So there is a ‘this’ to talk about.”

“Not like you think. Jen, this is coming out all wrong.”

Jensen smiles sadly into the phone, knows Jared can’t see it, although maybe he’s sensing some of what’s happening. “I photographed this one icicle for reference. But couldn’t capture it from that. Kept coming out wrong, had to head back out to see it clearly. The light reflected through it almost like a prism. It was bending, shaping beams of color. A rainbow, Jay, it only flickered for the space of a breath before the light shifted and it vanished.”

“Jen … “

“Then it was clear. Just like it began, returning to its true form, dripping back into air.”

“Jesus, please let me expl-“

“I can’t talk anymore right now.” Jensen gulps once, hard. He touches his face and swipes at the tears. All too soon, they too will vanish. He makes himself say one more thing. “Will you come back?”

“Yes! Yes, in two weeks. Nothing has changed … I don’t know why you think … I’m coming home like I promised.”

“I believe you,” Jensen says. “Let’s talk then.”

“What? No. I’m not going two weeks without-Jen, please. What did she say to you?”

The fire in his throat explodes outward. “This isn’t about my mother. Don’t you dare fucking make it about her.”

Jared is angry, voice sharp. “Oh yeah? Yesterday we were fine. Sexting half the day and falling asleep to the sound of each other’s voice. Today, you are back to thinking I’m up and leaving you.”

“You’re not leaving me,” Jensen says back sharply. “I’m sending you away.”

“Like hell you are.”

He stands up abruptly, legs burning with tension. Dot leaps off with a small wail. Pacing, he squeezes the phone hard against his cheek. “You wanna know what she said? Wanna analyze my screwed up childhood some more? Wanna make more innuendos of how she never loved me-“

“I never said-“

“She chose me,” Jensen yells. “I always thought that my dad was not to blame even though he’s the one that left. How fucked up is that? I thought maybe she did something that made him want to go. I mean, I knew it was probably just her getting knocked up with me. Yet, I still blamed her.

“Figured she couldn’t really have loved him. That she was too frigid and uptight and neat and how could anybody stand that? But she did, she loved him. Said he was everything. And when he left-“

“She choose to stay and be a mom to you.”

Jensen is floored. “How do you know that?”

“She told me.”

Plopping down because his legs are too wobbly to hold him, Jensen stutters out, “What? When?”

“Thanksgiving. Told me that she’s tough and did what she had to do, for you. Told me to be good to you.” Jensen is beyond speechless, only a tiny gasp comes out. “Easiest promise in the world.”

Jensen can hear Jared’s voice crack and doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t understand what he’s supposed to do.

“Get on a plane.”

“Huh?”

“Now … please. I can’t … I would, I would leave here but … the seminar … if you… God, I need you, need to see you, to touch you. I know it’s far and you don’t … but you’re scaring me so much and I know, if we could just be together, it would be okay.”

“You want me to fly out there so you can tell me you want to study in California to my face?”

“See … that’s what I mean. It falls apart when I can’t see your eyes, when you can’t see mine. When there’s nothing but static and space between us.”

“Exactly. We are finally on the same page then. Long distance doesn’t work. That’s why I’m trying to do the right thing and let you go.”

“It’s not your choice, Jen.” He hears Jared’s exasperated breath, sharp and harsh. “Fine … yes, the Dean said he’d love to have me. But I told him I was flattered but that I couldn’t just up and move, that I had commitments back home.”

“I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Being with you doesn’t hold me back.” Jared stops again. Jensen listens to him sucking in more air, tempering his voice to moderate. “You accepted your mom choosing you. Why won’t you grant me the same right?”

“Jay, this is bullshit. I know what that program would mean to you.”

“First, there’s us. Then, there’s everything else. So, yeah, do I wish you’d consider coming out here with me for a couple of years? I do. But Danni is there and your mom and I know you don’t want it. That town is in your blood, Jen. You breathe it into your paintings. They aren’t just landscapes, they’re flashes of your soul on canvas.”

“She said he was everything. And he just walked away.”

“I’m not letting you walk away.”

Dot tangles up near his feet. Outside the wind blows past his old window casings. The moan chills him and he thinks suddenly of seventy degree kisses under a palm tree. He’s moving before the notion consciously forms.

“Jay?”

“Yeah, Jen?”

“I think I need to touch you, too.”

“FaceTime me?”

Jensen whispers a yes before disconnecting and flipping the phone on its side. He holds it with one hand while he flings clothes in a duffel with the other.

Jared’s skewed face flickers to life and Jensen stops because there are tear tracks down his lover’s face and the most beautiful watery smile imaginable and it hurts to think of how much he loves him.

“Did you mean it?” Jensen asks, peering into the small screen.

“Every word. Always.”

“I’m heading to the airport. I’ll buy a ticket there. There should be an early flight out.”

The beaming smile he receives is worth everything. “Dot?” Jared asks suddenly, remembering.

“I’ll leave extra food and water. I can’t stay more than one night but she’ll be okay, don’tcha think?”

“I have class all day, we won’t have much time.”

“You talking me out of this?”

“No, god, no. Please come.”

Jared talks to him as he finishes packing, then signs off with a, “See you soon, love.”

Nothings sounds better.

Jensen pets Dot for a long time and then sets out extra water and food. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

On the long cab ride to the airport he calls Jared again. They are talking for a few minutes before Jensen remembers that Jared was supposed to go out that evening.

“What are you sorry for? It was not a big thing. I explained and they understood.”

“What did you tell them?” Jensen asks, concerned. He can’t stand the idea of strangers knowing his private business.

“That I needed to spend time with my family.” Jensen mumbles agreement to that, thinking it’s a good excuse. “You know I mean you, right?”

Jensen strokes the leather interior of the taxi and his hand warms instantly. Talking to Jared is like looking in a prism and having the light reflect back in the most wonderful way.

“Jay … I’d rather switch to texting. Okay?” he says when he stops trusting his voice to stay solid.

He stares at his phone for several long moments. He’s flying 3,000 miles to get a hug. Because right now that’s all he can think about. It’s deeper than a craving, it’s a need nestled deep in his soul.

In the end, he texts the truth.

I miss you.

Jared’s response is less eloquent.

Well get your ass over here already.

He laughs to himself silently. Outside the miles pass in a dark blur. The expressway a black curved stripe. He’s still scared. The future is never set. But he’s made a choice to meet Jared halfway.

And it feels like a start.

fin

Continues chronologically in i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Choices
by Tess Gallagher

I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I look up,
saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
the uppermost branches.
I don’t cut that one.
I don’t cut the others either.
Suddenly, in every tree,
an unseen nest
where a mountain
would be.