Requiem Part Five
Part Five
Jared
It’s been a month since Jared last saw Jensen. He’s no where near over the breakup and it’s only the Tristan side of him that’s keeping him from going over and murdering the priest just like he did his friend. Of course, just because a month has passed, doesn’t mean Chad has stopped giving him shit for it.
“I told you so.”
“Shut. Up.”
“No, you know what, no!” Chad hops up from where he’s been sitting on Jared’s couch and starts pacing. Jared isn’t in the mood to find it funny today. “I warned you. I warned you that this wasn’t going to end well, but you wouldn’t fucking listen to me! You’re a fucktard, you know that right? You should have killed Tristan when you had the chance, before you let him get to you.” He points an accusing finger at Jared. “Now where’s your priest boyfriend, huh? He’s off getting his church on and I’m left to deal with your emo princess ass.”
“Shut up!” Jared yells, standing now, towering over Chad, his eyes blackened with anger. “Jesus, will you just shut up already! I hear you, I’ve heard you every day for the past month. Alright? Now will you stop being a pretentious asshole and start being my friend?”
“No.” Chad grits out, his own eyes turning black and glowering at Jared. “You wanna know why? Because I warned you. I told you to fuck him and leave him and you refused to listen to me. So I’m not gonna hold your hand through this. I even told you, when you were first getting into this, that I wasn't going to give a fuck if he broke your heart and I meant it. Why should I care if you go losing your head over a fucking priest, Jared?"
Chad takes a deep breath, as if that's all he can do to keep from pummeling Jared on the spot. "I don't give a flying fuck what happened between you and Jensen. Go buy yourself some ice cream and candy or somethin’, fatass,. Just call me when you don’t wanna slit your wrists anymore.”
Jared really isn’t surprised by Chad, he’s known the demon long enough to know that this is what he should have expected all along. “Fuck you,” he says, eyes flicking back to hazel and pain radiating from them. “Get out.”
“S’what I wanted to do anyway,” Chad mutters. He leaves Jared’s home with a slam of the door that seems to shake its very foundations.
Chad’s wrong about one thing. Jared has already bought the comfort food.
He shuffles his way to the kitchen. A sudden bout of grief crashes into him, making him stagger back with blinding pain flashing in his head and tears rush to his eyes. It’s been like this over the past month, and he still hasn’t been able to get used to it. Waves of emotional pain would roll into him, making him drop to the floor and curl in on himself while he sobs. He holds onto the doorframe, breathing his way through the onslaught.
When it’s over, he straightens up and smoothes his hands through his hair. He hates Jensen, he really does. He can’t believe the man would deny them so easily. After everything… admittedly it wasn’t much, they’d only been together for a few weeks, at most. But Jared still thought it counted. Those weeks counted. Turns out he is wrong.
He makes his way to the freezer and pulls out the ice cream. A short trip to the cupboards results in bags of gummy worms, gummy bears, Nutella and jelly beans and a big soup spoon for the ice cream.
He goes back to the living room and turns on the TV. His channel surfing causes him to fall on old reruns of Bewitched.
::
As he watches, pigging out on Baileys ice cream from Haagen Dazs, he’s hit with a sudden bout of motion sickness and the colours around him blur dizzyingly.
When the motion stops, he’s not in his living room anymore. Bewitched is still on the TV, but his junk food has disappeared and he’s nestled into Jensen’s side.
“This has gotta be my favourite show, Trish,” Jensen’s saying, lips pressed into Jared’s temple. “But, y’know, it’s never as fun when I ain’t watchin’ it with you.”
Tristan giggles, the sound feeling familiar and comforting on Jared’s lips. “You’re such a sap,” he says quietly, but Jared can feel how much his heart swells at Jensen’s words. He burrows further into Jensen’s side, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s waist.
“But I’m your sap, right, Trish?” And Jared can feel Jensen’s smile on his skin and it’s the best feeling in the world. Jared feels Tristan nod, can feel the love he had for this older boy. He silently apologizes for screwing up Tristan’s second chance.
“Yeah, Jen,” Tristan breathes, blushing a delicate fuchsia, turning to look Jensen in the face. He moves so that his legs lay over Jensen’s lap and cups the green-eyed boy’s face. “You are.” He leans in and Jensen does as well. Their lips meet in a timid kiss, Jensen’s tongue swiping out over Tristan’s lower lip. Jensen’s hand rests low on Tristan’s hip.
The kiss isn’t sexual or even sensual. It’s just sweet pleasure shared by two boys who love each other but are too scared to say so.
Jensen pulls away first, eyes shimmering with untold love and affection. “You’re gorgeous, Trish,” he breathes. His nimble fingers brush back Tristan’s too long, too floppy hair behind his ear. Jared can’t really believe that a guy so nice grew up to be such a heartbreaker, especially to Tristan again.
Jensen leans in and kisses Tristan again. This time, it’s hungrier and Jared can feel Tristan’s cock stirring in his pants. “Wanna blow you, Trish,” Jensen growls out against soft lips. “Wanna see you, all of you, gettin’ all hard for me. Moanin’ my name, comin’ down my throat when I slip a finger inside your tight little ass.” He trails his lips down to suck on Tristan’s neck. The sensations Jared feels are akin to how he felt when he and Jensen were in bed together. Tristan moans, starts to tremble.
Jared can feel Jensen’s smirk, slow and dirty, against his skin. “Yeah, that’s right, Trish. Lose it.”
::
Jared gasps as he’s brought back to reality. His ice cream is still in his hands and Jensen is no longer by his side. He runs his hands over his face as he gulps his breaths down. He felt every emotion Tristan was feeling just now, and it resonated deeply with his own.
He doesn’t hate Jensen; he doesn’t think he ever could. He’s just sad, pissed, betrayed but deep down, if he really thinks about it, he can understand why Jensen did what he did.
That doesn’t make it okay, though.
He feels the urge to call him, to ask him if they can work things out but he doesn’t think that will happen. He can forgive the man, but he can’t work miracles. Nor can he grant wishes, no matter how fleeting.
He sighs as he looks down at his junk food.
A couple hours later, his Baileys ice cream is swimming in a whole bottle of Baileys liqueur and his bags of candy are all just about empty. He’s sufficiently drunk enough and hyper enough to forget he ever had feelings.
Jensen
He didn’t attend Christian’s funeral. There was nothing to bury. He can’t even remember the lie he told the police about what had happened. But he didn’t attend the funeral. He hasn’t attended church either.
Persons from his flock continually call him, wishing him well and sending their condolences and God’s love. They think he’s avoiding them because he misses Christian. They couldn’t be further from the truth.
He spends his time at home, watching Bewitched marathons on this old classic TV network he discovered. He doesn’t eat much; nausea at what he witnessed and what he did still makes it hard to keep anything other than simple chicken broth down, even after a month has passed. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Jared. He sees Jared’s inky gaze; sees the hazel; sees the yellow. His dreams are psychedelic mixes of the colours. They switch from one scene to the next so quickly it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep.
One minute Jared’s looking at him with all the love in the world sparkling in his hazel eyes. The next, Jared’s beneath, or above him, his mind doesn’t give preference, his yellow glazed eyes glinting at him, stealing his breath away. Finally, Jensen’s confronted with Jared’s black stare of rage, hurt and betrayal. Then it starts all over again.
He’s losing weight, has stopped taking house calls and intervention requests. Misha still comes by all the time, much to Jensen’s dismay. Jensen hates that look of fierce disappointment in Misha’s gaze, only because it’s reflected back at him tenfold when he happens to glance at a mirror.
He’s certain that he hates himself, which is strange because he’s heard that before you can love anyone else, you need to love yourself.
Yet, he loves Jared more than ever.
::
Hey, Jared. Um, hi, it’s me, I uh, I wanted to apologize, for you know… Well, yeah, you know. I, uh. I don’t really know what to say, but I just wanted to let you know that I really am sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you or Tristan so badly. I, I know you probably haven’t forgiven me, I don’t forgive myself. I just really want you to know that I didn’t mean a word I said, of course that doesn’t mean anything anymore. But yeah, I’m sorry.
Jensen is pacing around his room, practicing what he’d say if he ever got enough courage to call Jared himself. He takes quick strides that take him up and down the length of his bedroom. The cordless phone is gripped tightly in his hand and stuck to his ear, dial-tone grating and mocking against his eardrums. He can hear the soft whispering of wings in a corner of the room, but he doesn’t look around. He knows he’ll just see Misha and have to face the sadness in his eyes. What hurts the most, though, is knowing that above all, he’ll see pity.
Hi! Jared! Hey, it’s Jensen. I just wanted to say I’m happy you’re not too hot right now. I mean, ‘cause you’re not in Hell. And earth is significantly cooler than Hell, right? That’s stupid. What I mean is -
Jensen stops his practice speech midway; throwing his phone into the wall. He grabs at his hair frantically and in anguish. He just can’t find the words to say. He wants o apologize, he needs to apologize, he needs to apologize until he was blue in the face but he just can’t find the damn words. What could he possibly say anyway?
“Hey, Jared, I’m sorry for almost letting you get exorcised. And I’m sorry for denying everything we had together.”
He’s pretty sure they don’t sell those kinds of cards in Hallmark.
“Jensen,” Misha says. His voice is low and gravelly, nothing like the angel he’s become used to and it’s sad because he knows it’s his fault.
“Don’t say a word, Misha,” Jensen replies, still not looking over at the angel. “I know what you’re going to say. I know you’re disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in myself. And I miss him, alright? I really fucking miss him. I… I had another chance. Another chance with Tristan, and yet he wasn’t totally Tristan. He was like a more manly Tristan, and since I never got to see him grow up, I don’t know the difference between adult Tristan and demon Tristan.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair and wincing as he pulls a bit too hard and is rewarded with short strands of his dark blonde hair fitted between his fingers.
“And I’ve lost him,” Jensen looks finally over at Misha. When he does, there’s a small, sad smile on his face. “I’ve lost him for the second and final time. And once again, it’s due to my own stupidity. I could have just told Chris about us. Could have told him everything, could have admitted that I did indeed love Jared. I mean, I’m not going to Hell for it, so why did I lie so blatantly? Can you tell me, truthfully, that I’m not going to go tell Hell for breaking his heart for a second time? I don’t think you can honestly tell me that.”
He searches Misha’s serious face; he hasn’t seen a smile grace the angel’s features in this entire month.
“You’re right,” Misha says finally, voice rough and deep. “You’ll need to repent for this sin, but you’ll need to clear the air with Jared first. This is between you and him, and you must right things with him before you can right things with God, Jensen.”
“I know,” Jensen says, he feels small and forlorn and out of his depth. “But I can’t think of the words to say to him. I’m afraid to go to him, Misha! He fucking liquefied Christian right in front of me, and all he wanted to do was exorcise him. He’ll probably blow me to smithereens!” His pacing becomes more frantic as the panic sets in. “I’m never going to make things right with him. He hates me, Misha! He said so himself!”
Misha shrugs. “Then I guess you have to find a way to make him love you again,” he says, face a carefully schooled blank page of no emotion. The sight unnerves Jensen, being so used to seeing every emotion known to man flitting across the angel’s face at any given time. Desperate for some sort of facial reaction on the angel’s face, Jensen speaks without thinking; without caring.
“Well,” Jensen begins, sneering nastily in his own despair at the angel. “Why don’t you fucking show me how since you know everything and are a goddamn angel!”
Finally there’s some emotion on Misha’s face, but it’s one of hurt. He’d hoped for anger at least, but not the hurt that he sees crumpling Misha’s face.
There’s the soft fluttering of wings and he’s gone.
Despair and anguish claw at Jensen and he lets out his grief in a rough scream. It rises, hits a plateau before breaking off in a sob. He stumbles his way to his bed and curls up on the sheets.
His life had quickly become Jared. And now he’s lost him.
He’d be better off dead, but he has a flock to attend to.
He’ll start that tomorrow.
::
It’s Sunday. This is the first time that Jensen’s going to officiate a service since what happened with Jared. He’d prefer to stay home and drink himself stupid, but after so many members of his flock kept calling him and begging him to come back, he couldn’t say no anymore. Those people seemed to truly care about him, and worry over his wellbeing and he couldn’t possibly disappoint them any longer. He hasn’t told anyone about his planned return, opting for the element of surprise.
He fits his clerical collar into the collar of his robs and slips his rosary over his head. He’s suddenly hit with a wave of grief as he remembers Jared and how Jared blew him in the confessional booth and that’s sort of how this whole thing started.
And yeah, it probably started a long time ago, when Jensen began dating Tristan. But then Jared came along and Jensen was too gone to notice anything else anymore.
Obviously, though, he wasn’t too far gone to keep Jared safe from being exorcised.
His robes are off and lying in a heap on the floor before he can even blink twice. The collar was choking him and the material of the robes was chafing his skin as he felt the guilt coil through his veins. He gasps for air, gulping down the much needed oxygen as he rubs his throat soothingly, trying to get the feeling of the burning collar off his skin.
He looks at the clothes as if they are a pile of snakes, hissing and slithering towards him. He jumps back, yelling a little. His breathing eases a little when he remembers that they are, indeed, just clothes and cannot harm him in any way. Nevertheless, he decides he’ll go to church as only a civilian today.
A quick trip to his closet results in Jensen choosing a navy subtly pinstriped suit, that Danneel chose, with a white shirt and a bowtie. Because God deserves his best appearance, especially since he did so wrong by Jared, he fixes his hair nicely, artfully parting it on the side and slicking it down.
He snaps his suspenders as he puts them on before slipping his jacket over his arms. He slides his phone in his pocket, totally not in hopes that Jared might call him, totally not.
::
The response when he arrives brings tears to his eyes. He knew his congregation looked up to him as their direct link to God but he never thought they could possibly love him as much as they’ve showed.
One little girl rushes up to him and wraps her little arms around his waist. “I missed you Father Ackles,” she whispers and he can’t hold the tears back then. He picks her up in his arms while her mother and father smile on approvingly.
“Missed you too, little angel,” he says with genuine feeling as he presses a kiss to her forehead in blessing. “Have you been being a good little girl while I’ve been gone?” he asks playfully, the question directed at both the little girl and her parents.
“I have been!” she says eagerly and her folks laugh. Either she’s telling the truth or they just don’t want to make their little angel seem like anything less in front of their priest. It’s not Jensen’s place to go sleuthing and finding out the truth. “That’s good, darling,” he says as he gently puts the little girl down. He smiles at the small family, feeling pangs of jealousy.
He misses Danneel; misses the life and children he could have had with her.
He misses Jared; misses the life and children he could have adopted with him.
“I have to go greet everyone else,” Jensen says by way of excusal. He smiles at them in farewell and they do the same. As he walks away, looking for anyone else who may want to smother him in love, he’s suddenly pulled aside by a man with dirty blonde hair, eyes blackened. He gasps, the exorcism on his lips but a hand clutches around his throat, cutting off his words and breath.
“Listen to me,” the demon says, voice dripping with undisguised hatred. “You’ve hurt my friend. And I’m not entirely sympathetic, because I did warn him, but you hurt my friend. I should kill you right now.” The hand around his throat tightens and Jensen can’t really understand why he isn’t dead yet, and why no one seems to be noticing this. Then just as suddenly as it happened, the hand squeezing the life from him bit by bit is removed.
“But I won’t,” the demon says, voice low. Jensen can feel his dissatisfaction at not being able to kill him. “Because Jared would kill me in return. And I quite like my ass.” The black eyes glare at him. “But, trust this, Jensen, there is someone out there. Someone else who wants your head on a plate and I think they’d be doing us a favour.”
Jensen doesn’t even blink; the demon is gone.
He stands there, standing and staring at thin air, gasping and wincing at the burn with every breath.
Jared
It’s as if the church is calling out to him. There’s this urge to go there that rushes through Jared’s body with every breath he takes. He needs to see Jensen; he’s not mad enough to want to kill him anymore. The anger has left him with a hollow ache right where his heart is. He wishes he could have it back, just so he could feel something again, but all he’s feeling right now is an unhealthy need to see Jensen.
He wants to run his fingers over the soft stubble that catches on his skin. In his opinion, Jensen Ackles should never be without a perpetual five o’ clock shadow. He wants to lose himself in those shimmering green eyes; wants to count every freckle speckled across his nose, his cheeks, his forehead; wants to see if the freckles can be found everywhere else. He never got to examine in the three times they had sex previously. He wants to lick connections to every freckle, mapping out the constellations with his tongue.
Most of all, he just wants Jensen in his arms again.
But that’s never going to happen. Jensen threw that away and Jared isn’t going to be the pathetic asshole that grovels after him. Even though he might really, really, want to.
He rolls over off the couch, candy wrappers fluttering to the floor after him. He spent the night there, too caught up in crying and watching stupid Lifetime movies to consider moving to his room. One time during the night, Chad had come back. However, he took one look at Jared’s state and left immediately.
He hopes that human Chad would have been a better friend to Tristan than demon Chad is to him.
There’s movement to the left of him; he catches it in the corner of his eye. He turns his head and groans, closing his eyes in hopes that it will make this wretched demon go away.
Holly laughs, a delicate tinkling laugh that reminds him of Sandy. Of course, Sandy isn’t this much of a psychopath. He misses her, he realizes, he should summon her here so they can have a non-date. She’d like the mocha frappe’s that earth seems to be famous for. He should -
Holly, almost as if sensing that Jared isn’t paying attention to her anymore, hauls him up with a flick of her fingers. She smiles at him, teeth glinting in the light and gray eyes sharp and lethal. “Hi, there, Jared,” she says, casual as you please, as if they’re actually friends. “Word is, you and your little priest boyfriend finally broke it off. I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d have the guts. I’m proud of you.”
“Go to hell,” Jared spits out, struggling against her power. Holly laughs again. The delicate laugh that reminded him of Sandy suddenly grates on his ears, causing him actual physical pain.
“I plan on going back home,” she admits, shrugging a little. “But, I got work to do. Now that your little boyfriend is sufficiently unprotected, I can work a little magic and send him where he belongs.” She lets Jared go and he stumbles a bit at the sudden loss of support. “He’s even pushed his angel away, and he’s right where I want him.”
Jared feels sick, right down to his stomach, with despair. He’s going to start puking the awful concoctions of candy and alcohol he’s consumed since the breakup; preferably all over her. “Don’t fucking touch him,” he growls, hoping he sounds menacing and not like a scared little a boy.
The wall is suddenly crashing into his side. He finally does throw up, the sick smell of fermented sugar and preservatives making him even more nauseous. Blood trickles down his temple, indenting in and touching his lips. Holly struts over to him; kneels and picks him up by his collar. Before he knows it, his head is rearing back as she punches him. It hits into the wall, dazing him a little.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” she’s snarling, calm exterior shattered by Jared’s audacity. “You have become a lesser demon than I, what with you reeking of humanity. You have no right to speak to me as you please, Jared.” She punches him again and Jared can feel his consciousness seep away.
She pulls back and smiles, features carefully schooled back into the calm, carefree façade. “Think of it like I’m doing you a favour, Jared. He’s hurt you, and even though I hate you and what you’ve become, you are still one of my kind and I’ll avenge you, Jared. I can promise you that.”
::
The church service is over by the time Jared comes to and plucks up enough courage to show up. People are milling about, bidding their farewells and just socializing after an intriguing service. He vaguely wonders if Jensen did the preaching.
He just kind of stands there, not really paying attention to the people moving around him. His eyes are trained on the door of the church, looking for Jensen.
There’s a tingle through his nerves, before he even sees him. Jensen steps out, smiling down at some pretty young thing and there’s a pang of jealousy before Jared recognizes her as Summer, their server. He knows the girl will probably wave at him if she sees him, knows that he really is too big to hide, knows that it is inevitable that she’ll see him. Yet, he can’t walk away. He stands there, staring.
He’s right, of course. Summer whips her head around in a laugh and pauses, eyes widening then grinning broadly when she notices him. She yanks on Jensen’s arm, making him come down a bit to her level and whispers something in his ear. Jared can see him stiffen as he straightens. He looks around and his eyes land on Jared.
Jared is assaulted by how green Jensen’s eyes are, even at a distance. He can see them sparkle, shimmer, shine. His heart clenches painfully in his chest, but he can’t look away.
He wants to warn Jensen, wants to let him know that there’s a demon on his ass. He wants to take Jensen and go far, far away from Holly and all other demons. He wants to protect him, wants to kick his ass and fuck him long and hard and kiss him like he’ll never seen him again.
But he can’t.
Jensen’s still staring at him when he disappears.
Jensen
It’s been officially two months, one week, three days, 18 hours, 46 minutes and 59 seconds since Jensen broke up with Jared. Jensen isn’t even aware that he’s been keeping track, but when he stops to really think about it, the statistics amaze him.
Additionally, it’s been one month, three weeks, four days, 21 hours, 19 minutes and 30 seconds since he last saw Jared.
That Sunday never leaves him alone. Every time he closes his eyes he can see Jared’s hazel gaze shimmering behind his eyelids. He doesn’t know why Jared showed up at the church; he hasn’t actually spoken to the demon, he’s just seen him. But that one look was all Jensen really needed, he knew he needed to mend things with Jared but he didn’t know how.
He apologized to Misha the second he returned home from church, crying a little in the angel’s arms and laughing just a bit when Misha commented on just how gay Jared’s made him.
Said angel hasn’t been able to find a way to get Jared back to him either, though. They helplessness Jensen feels pisses him off to no end. He’s not used to feeling so useless and worthless. This thing with Jared blossomed into something that he never thought he could have again and he doesn’t even feel worthy enough to try to pursue it. Misha tries to convince him every day that Jared really does love him and he won’t try to murder Jensen if he made the first move, but Jensen doesn’t think he believes him. It’s not like Misha makes it a habit to talk to Jared about their breakup problems.
And that’s another thing. Jensen keeps calling this rift between them a ‘breakup’ but they were never together. Not really. They never made things official. Hell, Jensen had stated in no uncertain terms that he didn’t love Jared; that he could never love Jared. He’d been sure he was right, but he’d been so wrong. Still, though, they never really established that this thing between them was anything more than amazing sex with the added bonus of an angsty back-story that made the fucking that much more intense.
Jensen needs to get his mind off Jared. He needs to throw himself back into the Lord’s work and hope that if he studies to be a monk he can get back in His good graces. He’ll start with some housecalls, though. Maybe if he helps some people with their walk with God, it’ll help him with his.
In the middle of his musings, he hears that soft whisper of wings. “Hi, Misha,” he greets, looking up from where he’s currently lying facedown on his bed.
“Jensen.” Misha replies, sitting down next to him.
“I saw Jared,” Jensen blurts out, ignoring any preamble. It’s also the first time since seeing Jared that he’s spoken to Misha and he’s been wanting to get the awkward feeling off his chest. “At the church. A month ago. He showed up.” He takes a deep breath, rolling over on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “He was gorgeous, Misha,” he says quietly, voice low and wistful. “He just stood there, staring at me and I hated myself a little more.”
He heaves an almighty sigh. He knows he’s behaving like a teenaged girl after her first breakup but he can’t help it. It’s worse because he knows he broke Jared’s heart, possibly beyond repair. “I want him back, Misha. I don’t know how to do it.”
“Call him over,” Misha says. Jensen notes a bit of emotion in his voice and his heart soars at the thought of getting his angel back. Now he just needs his demon. “Braid his hair or something. Make him a nice little romantic dinner with candles then make the sweetest love.” Jensen blushes at this but Misha just continues. “Let him make love to you this time. To solidify it, so he knows, I mean really knows that you’re his.”
“I…” Jensen shrugs, blushing bright red at Misha’s suggestion. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
Misha slaps his shoulder. When Jensen looks over at him fully he can see the ghost of his past smile fluttering across his face.
“I’m always right,” Misha says.
::
And that’s how Jensen finds himself staring forlornly at a bag of frozen shrimp exactly a week from his talk with Misha. “What do I do with this!” He yells at the angel, throwing the bag at him. Misha narrowly catches it and wrinkles his nose at the little grey things.
“Cook them, obviously.”
Misha’s wearing a shirt that reads KISS THE CHEF, JARED. JUST KISS THE FUCKING CHEF, and it made Jensen laugh until he started sobbing.
“I don’t know how to cook them. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jensen glares at the packet of fettuccine lying on the counter. At this point, he thinks he’ll call the restaurant they went to and pick up a few dinners and stick them in the oven so they’re still hot when Jared gets here. Speaking of which, he hasn’t called him yet. His philosophy is that he’ll wait until the food is ready so the caring human in him will feel so bad that he went to all this trouble and end up coming over.
“Dude. You have an internet connection for a reason?” Misha says, voice in a palpable duh tone. “Google it and, bam! You’ll have an instant step by step guide for making fettuccine alfredo with shrimp from scratch.”
“Have I ever mentioned I hate you?” Jensen says but his mouth twitches slightly in a smile.
“It’s been said once or twice,” Misha replies with an answering grin. “But I’ll never believe you because you also say how much you love me while you’re sleepin’.”
“C’mon dude,” Jensen balks. “I do not.”
“You do,” Misha says with a triumphant cackle just as Jensen’s phone rings. It’s his ‘priest phone’. It’s on a separate number than his regular phone. This phone only rings when people have a spiritual request.
“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” Jensen replies, flipping the angel off briefly as he walks towards the phone. He feels a bit concerned that it’s his priest phone that’s ringing and sends up a little prayer for the person on the other line. He only hopes that God listens to and acknowledges it.
“Hello?” He says pleasantly once he’s answered. “Father Ackles’ residence, how may I assist you?”
“Father Ackles?” A young woman’s voice greets him. She sounds frantic, scared, panicked and terrified. Jensen’s cool demeanor is immediately set aside and he stands a little straighter. “Father Ackles,” the young woman says in a shrill, pleading voice. “Please, you gotta help me. I don’t know what to do!”
“Okay,” Jensen says, voice low and authoritative. “You need to calm down, dear. Tell me exactly what’s wrong.”
“I think I’m possessed!” The woman yells and Jensen’s blood turns to frozen slush. “I… I-I-I I saw this black smoke and that’s…. that’s what you see right? I… The…. It barreled right at me but I don’t… d-d-don’t feel any different.” Jensen shakes his head, grips the phone tighter. This thing for Jared is going to have to wait. It hurts his heart a little but he can’t turn away a young woman who thinks she might have a demon inside her.
“Alright,” Jensen says, ignoring the silent force of Misha suddenly beside him. “Here’s what you’re going to do okay?” He reels off his address to the poor girl, already cataloguing all the things he’s going to need just in case this happens to require an exorcism. “Get here as soon as you can. God be with you, my child.”
He hangs up and turns to look at Misha. “I need you to help me paint.”
A few minutes later, there’s a devil’s trap painted right in front of Jensen’s door and they’re armed with water guns filled with holy water. “There’s a young girl who’s terrified that she’s possessed,” Jensen had explained while they painted the trap. “I’m sorry but I need to help this poor young lady first, before I can think about anything else.”
“Yeah, that’s your problem,” Misha had muttered but Jensen made a point of ignoring him.
They keep both eyes on the door, watching it closely, never looking away. It seems like they’ve been waiting for hours and they don’t even hear the sound of a car driving up Jensen’s driveway. They’re about to slacken on their surveillance when they hear a hysterical scream from the middle of Jensen’s living room. Quickly, water guns poised to shoot, they whirl around. Slowly, ever so quietly, they make to their way to where a young girl is standing, almost catatonic in her terror. She’s petite and blonde, hair disheveled by how she keeps yanking at it with trembling hands.
She turns to look at Jensen as they approach her, eyes wild and flaming. “How did I get here!” She shrieks. “I don’t know how I got here! Father Ackles, please help me!” Her eyes turn black and her screams reach decibels Jensen didn’t know humans were capable of hearing. “What just happened! Why is everything darker!”
“Oh no,” Jensen breathes, raising the gun. He’s about to shoot some of the water on her when the young lady stands. She straightens up and smiles, eyes still oily black. “I deserve an Oscar for that,” she gushes, smoothing down her hair with her hands.
Jensen freezes, he’s confused. Has the demon already completely infiltrated this girl’s soul? Or is it… Something completely different?
She turns to Misha, smile still plastered on her face. “Leave,” she says, voice dripping with poisonous sweetness.
“No,” Misha grits out, face hard and vicious as he walks towards her.
“Not so fast,” she sing-songs. She holds a hand up and suddenly Misha’s suspended in the air, blood starting to bloom beneath his shirt. “I will kill you, darling Misha, you’re just a lowly cherub compared to me, sweetheart.” she sighs, as if he really isn’t worth her time. “But I’m not in the mood to kill any angels today. So leave. Or I’ll kill your friend here.” She drops him unceremoniously, and he looks over at Jensen.
Jensen really doesn’t want to have the blood of an angel on his hands, so he nods his head. “Go, Misha,” he says firmly, not leaving any room for argument. He puts his gun of holy water on the ground, kicks it away, showing the demon that he’s not going to pose a threat. “Go” he tells Misha again when he realizes the angel is still there.
Misha looks pained at the thought of leaving him, but Jensen has already lost one best friend. He doesn’t need to lose another one. With a slight inclination of his head, Misha disappears with the echo of flapping wings.
He turns to the demon. “What do you want?” he inquires warily. This demon obviously isn’t as friendly as Jared, so he figures this is the one that the demon at church last month was talking about. The one that really wants him dead. He only asked the question to gain a little time to contemplate the situation and make a decision. He has the exorcism ritual right on the tip of his tongue, just in case.
“You, of course,” she says with that faux sweet, innocent voice. “You’ve made me and a whole lot of people angry.” She shrugs. “Of course, when I say people, I mean demons.” She starts walking around to him, circling him, drifting her fingers against his arm, the nape of his neck. “So consider us your Spurned Lovers’ Club,” she says with a breathy little chuckle. “And I’m the president.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jensen says, voice gruff with fear. “And why’s that?”
“Because I’m the one who caused you to go on your genocidal rampage,” she snarls. “I felt pretty damn lousy, knowing that it was because of me that you got set on your priest path. I didn’t expect you to have that kind of reaction to me.”
The one who…. The one who what? Started it all? The thing that started it all was his lovely wife being possessed. His already frozen blood turns to rock hard ice. “You bitch,” he sneers, tears springing unbidden to his eyes. “I loved her!”
“Yeah,” she says gleefully. “I know! It was beautiful. The repercussions, not so much. But oh man, stringing you along was a fantastic experience. You were great in the sack too, of course, Jared will be able to attest to this as well.” She digs her nails into his scalp, right at the base where the skin meets his neck. “You makin’ it a habit to fuck demons who posses the people you love, Jennyboy?”
“Shut up,” Jensen hisses, his heart thumping hard in his chest at the mention of Jared. “He’s nothing like you.”
He’s suddenly flung into his TV. Glass shatters around him, embedding deep into his skin. “He’s just like us!”she’s yelling as she walks up to him. He’s thrown up to the ceiling and hits the floor with a sickening thud. “He disgusts me,” she snarls as she towers over him. He holds his side as pain blooms up his ribs and spits out blood, along with a tooth. “Thinks he’s ever so perfect since he got a bit of humanity. What a fucking pathetic sellout loser.”
"He's still everything like us," the demon hisses, dragging a sharp nail down the side of Jensen's face, blood beading on the surface where the nail breaks the skin. "Don't you ever think differently. You see how he obliterated your dear friend? He won't hesitate to do the same to you." She smiles softly, running her thumb over Jensen's bottom lip. "Oh! I'm so rude!"
She stands, raising Jensen up with a flick of her finger and keeping him suspended in the air. "M'name's Holly," she says, voice all sticky with fake sweetness and dripping venom. "And I'm the demon that possessed your darling wife all those years ago. I think you need to thank me. If it weren't for me, you would have never discovered your true calling as a priest!" She grins and it's the most feral, lethal thing he's ever seen. "So before I kill you, I think some appreciation is in order. Ahem. Repeat after me: Thank you, Holly."
"Go to hell," Jensen grits out, sneering down at the demon.
"Hey," she says, still casual and calm even as it feels as if she's reaching inside him and twisting his organs around. "That really hurts a girl's feelings," she coos, and excruciating agony shoots through his system. "I think you should be a bit kinder to the chick that holds your life in her hands."
"I owe nothing to you!" Jensen yells through the pain, coughing up a bit of blood. "So kill me, if that's what'll get you off. I don't think I care anymore. I've lost just about everything and I'm pretty sure Misha can find another worthless son-of-bitch to protect."
"Aw," she says, pouting prettily at him. "You're no fun Jensen Ackles. C'mon, I'll make it into a little show, like a circus, if you will. Complete with wild dogs and everything!"
In the distance, Jensen can hear the snarling of what sounds like wolves and the snapping of their jaws.
"Hope you like puppies, Jenny," she says with a beauteous smile.
The windows in the living room shatter, and the sound of snarling and vicious barking intensifies. She grins at him then shrugs and she lowers him to the ground; to the mercy of invisible beasts. He can't really see anything, he just sees these shadowy creatures standing right by the window sill. Fear and terror grip his heart, squeezing it so painfully that he thinks he may die before the beasts even get to him.
"Don't worry, Jensen," She says silkily. "I'll be sure this lasts as long as possible."
He can hear them pawing at the ground, can smell their rancid breath can feel the scorching heat of it boil the sweat popping up on his skin. "Remember what I said to you just before you sent me back down to Hell, Jensen, baby?" he hears her saying and he turns his face to her, fright written all over his features.
He takes it back, he doesn't want to die. He wants to live, doesn't care if he can't live with Jared anymore. He wants to stay alive. He wants to go hang out with Summer. He wants to go see his family. He wants to return to leading his flock. "Please…" he says softly, lungs feeling too tight, too heavy in his chest as he speaks. The pain from her twisting around his organs is still acute in his senses and he coughs up blood again, the taste of it tangy and bitter on his tongue.
"'Cause I remember every word." She's not grinning anymore. She's let her facade crack and Jensen can see the unbridled hate and anger she feels towards him. "I remember promising that you'd feel every bit of pain you inflicted on me all those years ago, and I never got to make good on that promise. Until now!" She laughs, and it sounds like a cackle, witchlike and terrifying.
For a brief second, she looks like Danneel and before Jensen can even blink, she's kissing him. It feels nothing like how Danneel used to kiss and it repulses him. It also feels nothing like Jared's kiss and he feels sick to his stomach. She pulls back and grins at him. Her smile seems to intensify the pain shooting through him and he groans in agony, coughing up yet more blood as his organs pulse in a strange way due to their rearrangement.
She straightens and steps back. "Sic 'im, boys," she says in a soft, sultry voice.
Jensen has two seconds, maybe three, to wonder what the hell she's talking about before he feels it: claws ripping into his skin. Blood bursts from his body before his eyes and his head kicks back in a scream of excruciating pain.
Jared"It took me forever to find you!" Misha's yelling at him angrily. Jared's surprised as all hell. He was just sitting in his living room, eating cake and watching Jerseylicious when the angel appeared right in front of him, screaming in his face about how hard he was to find.
"What the fuck are you looking for me, for?" Jared says petulantly, folding his arms over his chest. "I don't really appreciate you interrupting me in the middle of Gigi and Olivia's fight." And honestly, does Jensen think that sending him apologies via Misha on his behalf is going to help anything? What kind of fucking coward is he? His jaw ticks when he remembers: the kind of coward that would rather lie and risk getting his boyfriend exorcised than admit that they had something.
And what the fuck is up with Misha's shirt?
"Jensen's in trouble," Misha blurts out suddenly, and Jared stops breathing. He stares with a rapt, sort of grim, attention as Misha tells him everything that went down. However, his mind seems to forget all about the possessed girl and backtracks all the way to Jensen planning to cook a meal for him. He thinks about how it could have gone down, if they’d be able to move past all the hurt. And to be honest, Jared really thinks they can. He hopes so anyway.
“Are you fucking listening to me?” Misha hollers in his face, effectively bringing Jared out of his slight trance but only a little.
Jared's still sort of stuck at the idea of Jensen actually cooking for him. "What was he going to cook?" he asks Misha, voice bordering on dreamy.
"What?" The angel responds incredulously. "I'm telling you that Jensen is about to murdered and you want to know what he was going to cook?"
"Just answer the question!" Jared yells.
"Fine!" Misha barks, running a hand through his short hair. "He was going to do fettuccine alfredo with shrimp."
And that, right there, is the reason why Jared could never really hate Jensen no matter how hard he tried. Heart swelling almost painfully with love for the stupid human, Jared nods with a soft sigh. "Alright," he says firmly, shaking out his hair and rolling his shoulders back. "Let's go."
"No. I'm not going there. I don't want to jeopardize anything," Misha says resolutely.
Jared nods. "Alright. I'll go. Stay here, he may need healing."
Misha scoffs. "Like I'd be going anywhere else at this time."
::
It takes Jared nearly fifteen minutes to get to Jensen. The demon must have done something to make sure that he wouldn't be easy to find and by the time he reaches Jensen's house, his nerves are shot and he desperately needs a cigarette.
As it is, Jared doesn't land inside Jensen's home; he lands in the driveway. Even from outside he can hear the sickening snap of jaws and crack of bone as oh god, she brought hellhounds gnaw on Jensen's body. He's about to go through the front door, but it suddenly hits him that Jensen and Misha painted a devil's trap in front of it; he's not going to be any help whatsoever to Jensen if he can't move. He roams around the perimeter of the house, stopping when he comes across a broken window. He peers inside and nearly retches when he sees what's going on.
Holly is standing at the doorway of the living room, a bright smile on her face. Jensen's still alive, just barely; she must have commanded her mutts to take it slow. He can see their shadowy forms gnawing into Jensen's stomach, it's raw and bloody. His chest has long rakes of claw marks and he can see it move up and down slowly with every pained breath. He almost wishes that bitch would just let them kill him right out, just to put him out of this agony.
Anger, terror, fear and loathing for that horrible woman cause him to climb through the window. The shards of glass tear at his clothes and cut his skin but he doesn't care.
"Holly!" he roars, and the woman actually startles. "Stop this, right now." It's stupid, he knows it is, there's no way that woman will listen to him, but he's just buying time until he can figure out a way to kill her without her hurting Jensen anymore.
She recovers quickly though and pins that pretty, dangerous, smile on him. "Oh, hello, Jared," she says pleasantly, as if she's not murdering an innocent man with demonic dogs. "Come to see the show? I must say, though, darling. You're a bit late." She casts a glare down at Jensen then looks up with disgust etched onto her face. "I'm about to go as well."
Jared looks down at Jensen. Jensen looks up at him. Jared can see the apology in his eyes and can feel his own tears start to well. Jensen takes a deep breath, a whimper of pain escapes his lips as he does so. "I'm sorry," he whispers, it's so soft Jared barely hears it but he can feel the words resonate deep within him; within the depths of Tristan’s soul that’s now become his.
Jensen's eyes go glassy and all Jared can think is no, no.
"Well, look at that," Holly purrs, and the dogs step back, licking their snouts. "That's all folks!" Her blonde head kicks back in a grotesque scream, jaw opened too wide, as a barrel of black smoke pours out of her mouth and dissolves into the ground.
"No," Jared whispers, slowly walking over to Jensen's lifeless form. He bites his lip as the tears start to fall down his cheeks. "No," he says again as he kneels beside Jensen and pull his bloodied corpse into his arms. He can't hold back now, starts sobbing as he looks into Jensen's dimming green eyes. He presses his forehead to Jensen's cold and clammy one.
"Jen," he breathes, his voice broken and tinged with pain. It’s almost a prayer; he bows his head and closes his eyes, letting the sorrow take over.
Part Four | Epilogue