Soul Survivors, Chapter Four
Title: Soul Survivors
Author: tcs1121
Artist: BflyW
Pairing and Characters: Jared/Jensen, Jim Beaver, Chad Michael Murray, Sophia Bush, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Steven Williams, several original male and female characters
Rating: NC-17
Genre: J2 AU, h/c
Word Count: ~41,100
Warnings: This is a story about survivor's guilt. Many people die in different and tragic ways-mostly off screen. Imagined graphic deaths of birds. Suicidal ideation. Religious overtones-no religion bashing. Jensen has a permanent disability.
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
Beta: Kee--She never lets me take the easy way out. I don't know what I'd do without her. Thank you so very much.
Special Thanks to spn_J2fan for her read through, insights, and overall kindness. To pennydrdful for expert assistance when I needed it, and to wendy the moderator for the SPN J2 Big Bang 2014
A/N: Please understand that, right or wrong, people grieve in different ways.
Link to bflyw's Amazing Art:~~ HERE~~
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Summary: "We were ordinary people until we became part of a tragedy. We feel guilty for living when others have died. We come together because unless you've been through what we've been through, you can't understand what it's like to be us. We are the survivors."
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In the dark dreary nights, when the storm is at its most fierce, the lighthouse burns bright so the sailors can find their way home again. In life the same light burns. This light is fueled with love, faith, and hope. And through life’s most fierce storms these three burn their brightest so we also can find our way home again.- Author Unknown
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( Back to Chapter Three)
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___________
Jared felt itchy. His clothes were too big and his belt was too tight. He rubbed his face against his pillow and sighed. His long hair was greasy and snagged when he tried to comb his fingers through it. His beard was scraggly and his running shoes smashed the tips of his toes.
Food didn't taste right, the colors of spring turning to summer were dull rather than vibrant and everything smelled bad.
Maybe I'm coming down with something.
Please God, let me be sick.
Jared knew what was happening, but he chose the road most taken and denied his symptoms. He called Sophia, telling her that he wasn't at work because he had the flu.
Tired.
I'm so damn tired.
He looked at his phone, sitting across the room on his dresser, and thought about Jensen. They'd developed a serious texting addiction, but right now the phone was too far away, his fingers and thumbs too clumsy.
He had nothing to say anyway.
I don't want to talk.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe, so Jared pulled in several deep breaths, took two pills-only two, because a promise is a promise-and curled up in his unmade bed. The lights were off, the shades were drawn and the world was a dark, dark gray.
The medication helped him relax. Jared closed his scratchy eyes, and prayed for sleep. But there was no rest, because behind his lids, a flock of geese were getting swallowed up by the giant turbines of two powerful Oceanic Airlines jet engines. Blood and entrails streamed out from the intake and the fan blades splattered gore all over the passenger's windows. The compressors of both engines, now clogged with beaks and feet and gray and black feathers, seized up dead becoming quiet and still. Jared watched the passenger jet hang in mid-air, silent and doomed, and then gently nose down to plummet in a free fall to Earth.
He grabbed his pillow, jammed it into his mouth and screamed and screamed and screamed.
Jensen rocked his wheelchair back and forth, pushing with his right foot on the floor. This was how he paced.
He stared at the empty text screen on his phone and tried to tamp down the worry. Jared seemed fine after last Monday's make-out session in his parking lot and they'd texted normally up until Wednesday.
Jared's texting slowed down after that. He was still funny but much slower on the comeback than his usual quick draw responses, and on Thursday night, he said he'd be taking a texting break saying simply:
thumbs need a rest
Jensen didn't think that taking a break meant complete radio silence. Friday afternoon came and went without a peep, so Friday evening, Jensen started leaving Jared voice messages and emails asking Jared to please call him.
It was now early Saturday evening and Jensen hadn't heard a single word from him. He was seriously worried.
Jensen contemplated calling Jeff Morgan for advice. He considered googling Jared's workplace and dropping by in case they were working late. He debated calling the police. And in the midst of all these deliberations, a text came through.
Thank you, thank you, Jensen repeated, until he saw an unfamiliar number. Ice formed in his gut and his hands trembled as he hit the read button.
Dude, I'm a friend of Jared's and I'm not always real respectful of his privacy. I stole your phone number out of his contacts. I'd say I was sorry, but I'm too scared coz I can't get in touch with him. If he's with you and he's fine, plz don't tell him I texted and just hit send and that way I'll know he's ok. If he isn't with you, call me back. Chad
Jensen stabbed the button. Chad picked up immediately.
"This Jensen?"
"Yes. When was the last time you talked to Jared?"
"I, well…when did you?"
"I saw him last Monday night and we were texting on Wednesday, but that's the last I've heard from him."
"How was he?"
"Honestly, he seemed okay." Jensen perched at the edge of his wheelchair seat. "He really seemed okay."
"Sophia called to tell me he called in sick at work today. I shoulda kept closer tabs on him, but I'm up a mountain on the other side of the country and he was all wrapped up in Jensen this and Jensen that. I knew I should've been watching him closer."
"Stop." Jensen interrupted. "What do you mean you should have been watching him closer? What's going on?"
"Haven't you looked at the calendar, man? Tomorrow, it will be one year since the plane went down."
"Oh, God." Jensen collapsed back into his wheelchair; the rear wheels smacking up against the wall. "Oh, dear God."
"He didn't tell you, did he?"
"No, no, he didn't. I never knew exactly when it happened." Jensen's hands were shaking as he wheeled into his bedroom. "I'm going to see him. I gotta go."
"Listen, dude, he might not let you in."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Sometimes when I'd go over, he wouldn't let me in no matter how hard I banged on his door."
"What did you do?" Jensen collected his brace and shoes.
"I used his key."
"His key? I don't have his key. I'll have to break the door down. I can't break the door down. I'll call the fire department."
"Hold on, Jensen, man. You've met Jared, he's a mess and he sometimes locks himself out of his own house. He knows it and always has a spare key hidden outside. Under the door mat, in a flower pot, someplace like that. Check above the door, it was there last time."
"Okay, I will. I'll get in, I swear."
"Dude, call me…"
Jensen clicked him off.
After carefully donning his brace, he called Jared's home phone again.
You've reached Jared's answering machine. Talk to it nicely. beep
"Jared, I'm coming over now. Please, Jay, wait for me. I'm on my way."
Jensen couldn't help himself. Old habits die hard. He raised his head up, spread his arms wide and closed his eyes.
"Please let Jared be safe and whole. Please have him wait for me. Please, please, let him be all right." He wiped his eyes, grabbed his crutch, his keys, and what was left of his hope.
~~~~
Jared's house was dark inside and out.
"Come on, Jared. Open the door."
Jensen called and knocked until his throat was raw and his knuckles hurt. He turned the knob back and forth again, but the door was clearly locked.
"I'm coming in. Jay, can you hear me? I'm coming in."
He switched the crutch to his left arm, kept the brace locked with his knee straight and stood tip toes on his right foot. He reached up as far as he could and walked his fingers along the ledge above the front door searching for Jared's spare key, but came up empty.
"Dammit, Jay." Jensen looked around frantically. The concrete planter along the walkway was too heavy for even Jared to pick up, so Jensen knew the key couldn't be hidden underneath, but he sifted the soil with his fingers in case it was buried there.
Nothing.
Think, think, think.
Jared had a welcome mat monogramed with the letter P at the threshold of the front door. Jensen used his crutch to shuffle the mat aside and balanced carefully to pick it up. No key underneath. There was no key at the door-side mailbox either.
The front door was made from thick oak planks and Jensen knew it was sturdy enough to hold up against him hammering his crutch against the hinges. So beating the door down was out.
The moon was full, which was good, because that was the only light Jensen had to work with. He peered under the rose bushes as best he could and checked the ledge above the door again. There was nowhere else to look for a key. He pulled out his phone, preparing to dial 911 when he remembered the back door.
The back door.
Shit.
Walking on grass with one crutch was tough enough when it was light out. At least the sunlight showed where the ground sloped, or large roots had broken the surface. But, at night, grassy lawns became a minefield of hidden potholes, dead branches, wet leaves and sharp rocks.
Heaving a deep breath, Jensen checked that his brace was still locked and his phone was easy to reach. He made his way to the grass line at the corner of the house. Placing his crutch on the soft soil, he leaned into it. The crutch tip sank a half an inch, but otherwise the ground seemed firm.
Because his brace was locked, Jensen had to hike up and swing his left leg around before placing his foot down. This hurt his back, but it was safer to walk with his knee securely locked then to risk a sudden collapse.
Jensen's crutch was cuffed to his right arm, as usual and he used his left hand against Jared's house to balance himself. Slowly, Jensen crept along the side of the house towards the back. Each step was thought out in advance. First, he hugged the wall, and then he advanced his crutch to test the ground. After he was sure it was stable, he swung his left leg around. He checked his footing by slowly putting full weight on it, and then stepped forward with his right. He slid his hand forward along the exterior of house and started the process over.
Jensen made it all the way to the back corner, then stopped and strained his ears for any sound coming from inside. He made the turn panting and sweating and, thankfully, the patio door was in sight. The brass door handle reflected in the moonlight about ten feet away. He planted his crutch in the dirt, leaned into it, still listening hard for any sign of Jared, when the crutch tip slipped.
Jensen drew back, but the crutch was sliding in the opposite direction, pulling him over. He dropped the crutch and threw himself back against the house, right arm pinwheeling to get his balance. His left side, shoulder to hip, crashed into the stone and shingles, but he remained upright.
"Shit, shit. Fuck." Jensen doubled over, both hands scrabbling at the wall to keep from falling. A thousand needles pulsed from Jensen's hip, down his leg and into his foot. A thousand more followed, each with an electric tip that shocked his muscles and scoured his bones. His low back tensed and he moaned, "Stop, stop, stop."
Jensen knew the over reactive pain lasted only a handful of seconds but tonight it went on and on before it finally let up and faded away completely.
Jensen's heart was beating out of his chest. At first he was scared. Scared of falling, scared of the pain returning, scared of being too late to help Jared. And then he was angry.
Why? He looked up at the full moon.
Why all this, just to walk around a house? He breathed in and out until his hands stopped shaking, and looked around to locate his crutch. It wasn't far. He leaned against the exterior wall and bent his right leg, counterbalancing with his left. Jensen carefully picked it up, slid his hand through the cuff and held on tight. He tested his next step and it held firm. Taking the last three steps, he was finally at the patio door.
The screen door wasn't locked but the door leading to Jared's kitchen was. Jensen looked around. No welcome mat. No door ledge. But, in the far corner of the small patio was a TV tray, and on top was an artificial fern sitting in a coffee cup.
He limped over, lifted the plant out, and found the key sitting at the bottom of the mug. He nearly wept, thanking Jared for being absent-minded enough to lock himself out, and for being a coffee drinker.
You've reached Jared's answering machine. Talk to it nicely. beep
"Jared, I'm coming over now. Please, Jay, wait for me. I'm on my way."
~~
He heard the message. Jensen was on his way here. It was amazing how profoundly he didn't care.
Maybe I'm already dead.
Several minutes or hours later, Jared thought he heard pounding, but he waited, and it finally stopped. That, or he just couldn't hear it any more. Then he heard Jensen calling softly from his bedroom door, "Jared? I'm coming in, okay?"
Whatever.
"Hey, Jay. I'm happy to see you. I was worried. Can I sit on the bed, here?"
Jared blinked slowly and shrugged.
"Chad was worried when he couldn't get in touch with you. He called to see if you were with me."
"Well, here I am."
"Good, I'm glad." Jensen sat on the bed. His shoes were muddy and his braced leg was straight out, probably locked.
I guess if he got up quick with the knee locked, he won't fall over. I…I don't want him to fall down…
"Jared, hey, Jay, have you taken too much of anything?" Jensen's voice was unsteady.
Jared swiveled his head to look at him. "I promised you I wouldn't kill myself."
"I know." Jensen let out a deep breath. "You said you kept your promises."
"Yeah, I don't want to be known as a murderer and a liar."
"You're not a murderer."
"You know what, Jensen?" Jared snarled, his sudden anger giving him the energy to stand. "I wish I'd never made that promise."
"Don't say that. Don't ever say that," Jensen pleaded.
"That was my out." Jared's eyes blazed as he loomed over Jensen. "I swore to you I wouldn't end my life and now I have no out."
"Good."
"I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere. But I fucking promised…" Jared trailed off. He swallowed around the large lump that came from nowhere. "I promised you and now I can't even fantasize about giving myself a peaceful way to go."
Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.
"You took that from me and now I'm forced to live like this." Jared's legs gave out and he collapsed in a heap onto the floor. "I can't stand it. Day after day, holding it in, trying to feel like I used to, and knowing, knowing that I'll never be happy again. I don't want to do this anymore. I want it over."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry this happened."
"Fuck off. Go away." Jared's voice bubbled wetly. He was crying now, and couldn't stop. "I hate my life. I hate all of this. I hate you."
"Hate me all you want," Jensen's voice was soft and steady, "but I'll never be sorry you're alive."
"Fuck you. Fuck it all." Jared's voice got lost amid his sobs. His body shook and he felt like he was coming out of his own skin. He tore at his hair until a gentle hand grasped his fingers and drew them away. His other hand was tucked up against his chest as Jensen hugged him close. Jared burrowed down into Jensen's arms crying, "Fuck you. Fuck you for making me have to live. Fuck you."
Jensen's arms trembled around him. He shushed and whispered, "It'll be okay. I'm here. You're alright. I'm with you," over and over until Jared finally caught his breath.
"Why did this happen to us, Jensen?" Jared asked. His voice was hoarse and his throat was sore. "Why did this happen to all of them?" He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Jensen all around. "I didn't mean it. I don't hate you. I don't. I don't."
"I know you don't. It's alright." Jensen's fingers carefully carded through Jared's snarly hair. "I don't know why bad things happen to good people. Them and us. I can't reconcile it. I've tried, but I can't." Jensen whispered. "But I know that I can't ever be sorry that you're here, Jared. And after knowing you, I'm not sorry I'm here either."
Jared ran the back of his hand under his nose. "You've thought about dying?"
"For a while, that was all I thought about. But then I had the group, and now I have you." Jensen's eyes were wet. "I don't want to die anymore. I never want you to die."
"I don't want you to die, either." Jared sounded like a little kid, even to himself. "But I want us to feel good. I want all the things you talked about-the warm breeze, the fall leaves and the peace. Sometimes it's so black and so bad that I can't believe I'll ever get there."
"Get where?" Jensen's lips skimmed Jared's cheek.
"To the top of the ladder. Where there's a sun shining, and a promise of fair winds and following seas." Jared wiped his eyes. "I want to believe in hope again."
Jensen recited, softly:
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops-at all-
Jared gave Jensen a sad smile. "Emily Dickinson."
Jensen smiled back. "Yeah. I like the image of hope, perching at the edge of the soul, ready to burst into flight."
Jared sniffed. "I do, too."
"We will get there, Jay. We'll make it to the top, even if we have a few false starts. All we have to do is hold on tight to each other. When one of us slips, the other one will be there to catch-and, together, we won't fall."
They held each other in a solid, silent embrace.
"I really am in like with you," Jared's throat was rubbed raw.
"I'm in big time like with you, myself." Jensen grimaced on the last word.
It was then that Jared noticed they were both on the floor, leaning up against his bed. At some point, Jensen must have unlocked his knee, because he was sitting with his left leg bent out to the side, cradling Jared to his chest.
"You're on the floor."
"So I am."
"You shouldn't be on the floor. How can you get up?"
"I took the calculated risk that you would help me." Jensen made another painful expression and Jared disengaged his hands from Jensen's shirt so he could stand.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Give me a second to get my foot…here. Okay, take my hands and pull."
Jared took both his hands and backed up while Jensen used the strength in his right leg and both arms to get himself upright. Jared looked with concern as he helped Jensen maneuver onto the edge of the bed.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Jensen sounded a little winded. "Thanks."
"You don't look okay."
"Nothing a hot bath won't cure."
Jared sat next to Jensen, wrapping his long arms around him, pressing his cheek to Jensen's chest. "I'm sorry about what I said."
"Why didn't you tell me? Chad said that tomorrow it will be a year since the crash."
"I don't know why I didn't say anything." Jared sighed. "It's not that I was consciously hiding it from you. I guess maybe I didn't want to put you through all this."
"We never know how we're going to react to things. You might not have realized how hard this would hit you. You might not have realized how much you needed someone who cares-how much you needed me-around to help you through this."
"It did take me by surprise. The intensity of it." Jared pulled away. "I'm going to be no good for a while. You might not want to be around for the next couple of days."
"Not gonna happen." Jensen said. "I'm staying right here."
Jared wiped his wet cheeks again, like he had been doing for the past year.
"Good. I want you here."
Jensen leaned into Jared. Their hearts pounded through the fabric of their clothing. Their breaths matching one by one.
Jensen kissed Jared's temple and said, "I've been thinking about this and I have an idea."
"What is it?"
"If you're ready, and only if you're ready," Jensen's soft voice rumbled. "I have a suggestion on how you might achieve a small amount of closure."
"Anything, Jensen. I've got to do something."
"It might not go well, but I believe that it's something you need to do to move forward. You probably won't like it."
"Probably not. Tell me."
And Jensen did.
~~~~
Jensen's hand was warm on his back, rubbing soft circles of reassurance. Jared's hands shook as he tried for the third time to make his fingers touch the right numbers. They sat at the kitchen table with the phone on speaker so that Jensen could listen in. That is, if he could ever complete the call.
This last time, Jared made it through the area code and the first three digits before hitting cancel and closing his hand around the phone. Jensen pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and kept his hands moving in a slow, comforting rhythm.
Finally, all the numbers were entered and the call went through. A gruff, male voice answered, "Hello?"
Jared cleared his throat. "Is this the Summer residence?"
"Yes, but it's not a good time. You'll have to call back."
"Wait. Please wait. My name is Jared Padalecki and I need to speak with Mrs. Summer. Robbie Summer's mother."
In the background Jared heard, "Who is it, Greg?"
"Never mind, mom." Greg hissed into the phone, "I don't know who you are or what you're trying to pull, but calling my mother today to talk about Robbie? That’s plain cruel. Don't call here again."
"Greg, who are you talking to about Robbie?"
"Nobody, just some guy."
Jared was certain Greg would hang up until he heard Robbie's mother's voice get louder. "Wait a minute. Did he tell you his name?"
Greg's puzzled voice came through the receiver. "What's your name again?"
"Tell her it's Jared. Jared Padalecki."
"He says it's Jared."
The phone rustled and changed hands. An older woman's voice came through the handset.
"This is Mimi Summer, Robbie's mother."
"Mrs. Summer, you don't know me, but…"
"Are you the Jared Robbie met at the airport that morning?"
"Yes ma'am and I'm so sorry."
"You're the boy who gave her your seat on the plane, isn't that right? You're that Jared?"
"Yes, ma'am. It was a year ago and that's why I'm calling. I had to let you know how-I mean sorry isn't anywhere big enough, but I am. I am so, so sorry."
"I've thought a lot about you."
"Please, please forgive me, Mrs. Summer." Jared barreled over her.
"Stop." Mimi Summer's voice was firm.
"I would change places with her if I could. You've got to believe me."
"Jared, stop. You don't understand. I loved my daughter dearly and I was devastated by her death, but I know it wasn't your fault."
Tears clung to Jared's eyelashes as he replayed Robbie's mom's last few words. "What? What did you say?"
"I have been thinking a lot about you for the past year. Wondering what you're doing and how you might be feeling, and I think you need to hear me say that it wasn't your fault. That you're not responsible for Robbie's death."
"We both know that it should have been me." Jared's voice wobbled. "You should want it to've been me."
"Jared, you can't believe that I wished you died on that plane?"
"I do. And I would if I were you." Jared swallowed, thickly. "Mrs. Summer, if I didn't give up my ticket, you would still have Robbie."
She sighed, sadly. "Do you remember she called me that morning?"
"I remember everything about that morning,"
"Then you know how excited she was to be coming home. On that phone call to me, she was fun and happy. She bragged about how she was able to charm you into giving her your seat. Remember, Jared, I know my daughter and she was irresistible." Mimi sniffed. "She also hated hanging around in airports."
Jared buried one hand in his hair and his other, grasping the phone, trembled uncontrollably. Jensen gently pried the phone from his hand and set it on the table top.
"Jared, giving Robbie your seat was a sweet gesture. You probably forgot that."
"You should hate me. It was my ticket, I had the flyer miles, but," Jared's voice was failing, "but I gave it to her and she died."
"Did you know that would happen?"
"Of…of course not."
"That's right, of course not. And you know what else? Even if you weren't there to give her your seat, she would still have been on that plane."
"Mrs. Summer?"
"I told you I've thought a lot about this." Mimi took a shuddering breath. "You weren't responsible and I don't want you to think you were."
Jared choked back a sob.
"Losing a child is wrong and the worst, most devastating pain for a parent to bear. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I could never want your mother to go through what I'm going through. Jared, listen, I wish to God that Robbie wasn't on that flight, but I don't wish you were.
"In fact, it must have been a very difficult year for you. You did something nice for a stranger with nothing but the promise of a free lunch, and had your life ruined by it. I won't add to your grief because even if you do, I don't blame you. And for the record, I never did-even at the moment I heard that the plane went down." Mimi's voice wavered, but her conviction rang through loud and clear.
Jared cried silently, his head moving side to side. Jensen cupped his hand around the back of Jared's neck and held tight.
"Thank you," Jared gasped. "I don't know if I can forgive myself, but if you can, thank you. God bless you."
Mimi's reply was soft and sorrowful. "I'm sorry for all of us, Jared. Please forgive yourself. I can't, because I have nothing to forgive you for."
Jared couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. He saw Jensen pick up the phone. In the background of rushing water and darkened vision he heard Jensen say, "You may very well have saved an amazing man's life today, Mrs. Summer. I'm Jared's friend, and I thank you for that. Believe me when I say how sorry we are for the loss of your daughter. Jared and I will hold her in our hearts until we all meet again."
Mimi's teary voice said, "Thank you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Summer." Jensen whispered, and ended the call.
Jensen helped Jared stand, and led him over to the couch. His crutch thumped hard on the tiled flooring as he struggled with Jared's weight.
"Jay, can you help me out a little, please?" Jensen pulled up on Jared. Jared's watery stare was unnerving.
"Jared, come on." Jensen tried shaking him without them both ending up on the floor.
Jared slowly came back to himself. Finally taking his weight on his own feet, he said, "You heard her, didn't you? I didn't make it up?"
"I heard her." Jensen prodded him over to the sofa. "Here, sit, I'll get you some water."
"She doesn't hate me. She should, but she doesn't."
"And she never did." Jensen filled a glass from the tap and carefully walked it back.
Jared's eyes were shiny wet. He took a small sip. "She was worried about me."
"She's one of those rare individuals who can see the stars shining through the clouds at night."
"She doesn't hate me. I thought she would hate me." Tears dripped down Jared's face but he didn't seem to notice.
"She doesn't hate you." Jensen sat down next to Jared close enough to share his body heat. "She doesn't hate you because you did nothing wrong."
"I told her I was sorry and that I didn't know the plane was going to…to go down."
"She knows how sorry you are and that you would have changed places with Robbie if you could." Saying that made Jensen's heart break. The thought of never having met Jared caused a physical pain in his chest.
"I would have kept my seat if I'd known, except now," Jared raised his eyes to him, "if I had died in that crash, I never would have met you."
Jensen clamped his jaw shut and kept a whimper from escaping his lips. Drawing in another breath, he asked, "Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
"You don't have to be okay and you don't have to know anything. Let the conversation work around in your head for a few days and then see how you're feeling." Jensen made to stand.
"Where are you going?" Jared's hand was quick on Jensen's arm.
"You'll need some time alone to quiet your mind and process what happened today. Don't worry, I'll only be a phone call and a couple of miles away."
Jared's grasp tightened. "Stay with me?"
"I might not be what you need right now."
"I need to hold onto you or I'll fly apart. I'm barely holding it together. You keep me grounded. Believe me, you're what I need right now." Jared gulped in a breath. "Please stay."
Jensen inched closer. "I'll stay as long as you want."
"Good." Jared's long arms twined around him. "You have no idea how important you've become to me." Jared kissed him, gently. "I don't know if I would be here without you."
"You're strong, Jay. You're spirited, and you're brave." Jensen sat back and let Jared cuddle him.
"You're only saying that because you like me." Jared's wet eyelashes skimmed Jensen's cheek.
"Possibly," he said, smiling.
"She said I wasn't responsible. Even though I gave Robbie my seat. She said," Jared muffled a sob into Jensen's neck, "she said she never wished I was on the plane."
"Of course she didn't. There's a big difference between wanting your daughter to be alive and wishing that someone else was dead. Nobody wants you dead, Jay."
"She said…she said I was nice." Jared clutched onto Jensen as though he would fall and keep on falling without him to hang onto. He was openly crying, his tears soaking through the thin material of Jensen's shirt.
Jensen stroked Jared's hair.
After Jared calmed and his breathing evened out, Jensen tried figuring out how to get comfortable without disturbing him.
"Jensen," Jared said, sleepily. "You know what?"
"What?"
"It's bright up there. I can see the sky, and it's blue." Jared yawned. "I've still got a lot of climbing to do, but now I know the sun is shining."
Jensen repositioned his legs and placed a sofa pillow and Jared's shaggy head into his lap.
"Jensen?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now take a nap. I'll be here when you wake up." Jensen smoothed Jared's hair away from his face, and soon, Jared was snuffling in a deep sleep.
Jensen ran his fingers lightly down Jared's cheek.
Someday, I hope to see the sun with you.
~~~~
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On to Chapter Five
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