Drifting Through Doorways Chapter 7
“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche
VII.
Saturday, October 26
Jensen wasn't surprised to find Jared next to him when he rolled over in bed. The room was lit in a soft glow from outside as if it were twilight; that quiet time of day when the sky darkened to periwinkle and the earth darkened to shades of gray and umber. After their earlier tête-à-tête and the bad feelings it had engendered in Jensen, he knew that rule three was probably no longer valid. Jared seemed to be asleep still, so instead of giving in to the urge to kiss him, Jensen let his fingers gently trace the well defined muscles of his abdomen.
He didn't know what to think of the whirlwind craziness that his life had become over the last couple of days. He’d never felt a connection like this so quickly with anyone - usually his relationships epitomized the phrase “slow burn”.
Jared’s eyes opened lazily, and Jensen imagined their hazel color that the room was too dark to properly show. Jared smiled shyly when he saw Jensen hovering over him, and his hand lifted to cover Jensen’s where it rested on Jared’s abdomen. Jensen leaned in slowly, broadcasting his intent with his deliberate movement. The dark, heated look that came to Jared’s face more than gave permission, and so Jensen didn't say a word, just covered Jared’s mouth with his own.
Jensen closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation. There was too much to think about, and right now Jensen didn't know what he wanted, exactly, just that he wanted something. Wanted Jared. The kiss was a gentle meeting of lips and tongues. Jared’s lips were soft, surprisingly so since they weren't as full as Jensen’s own, and they parted for him eagerly. He pushed his tongue into Jared’s mouth, and Jensen knew he could lose himself in this. He’d only kissed Jared a handful of times, and never like this, and yet it was growing familiar. Jensen could see himself growing addicted to it.
He pressed closer to Jared, who had shifted onto his side at some point during the kiss and looped his arms around Jensen’s middle. Jared’s arms tightened and he realized through the foggy haze of lust that they were pressed skin to skin from chest to hip, their mouths the most intimate connection of all.
Jensen wasn't sure when the gentle kiss that he’d initiated had changed, but it evolved from sweet exploration to a fevered rush, a hungry devouring of each other. Someone moaned, and Jensen wasn't sure if it was Jared or him, or both. Jared’s hands were no longer content to simply hold Jensen close, and were now running down the muscles of Jensen’s back to the jut of his hip. Jensen gasped when he realized he was growing hard, his naked length tucked up tight between his body and Jared’s. Jared, he realized, was just as naked as Jensen was, and definitely just as aroused. Huh. Jensen definitely remembered Jared being in pajamas the last time they’d been dreaming together. Maybe he’d ditched them tonight in hopes that something like this would happen? Jensen wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Impulsively, he lowered his hands to Jared’s hips and pulled, grinding their erections together. Jared’s eyes flew open in surprise or alarm. He groaned.
“God, Jensen,” Jared gritted out. “What are we doing?”
“Do we have to think about it?” Jensen sighed. “I don’t know what we’re doing. All I know is I really, really want you to touch me.” Jensen accentuated this statement with a roll of his hips and Jared’s eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled shakily. “And I really want to touch you,” Jensen added, in case it wasn't clear.
Apparently that was all it took to convince Jared, for he surged forward, renewing their kiss with vigor and thrusting his hips against Jensen’s. All rational thoughts ceased, especially when Jared’s hand snaked in between their bodies and he wrapped his long fingers around Jensen’s length. Jensen’s head lolled back and Jared’s mouth latched onto his neck, sucking hard at the tender flesh there.
Pleasure coiled in Jensen’s belly as Jared stroked up and down. He was close to coming, and he didn't want to leave Jared behind. Reluctantly, he pulled Jared’s hand off of him and pushed Jared onto his back. Jensen pulled the sheet, which was bunching awkwardly around them, down until it rested just below Jared’s hips, and for the first time Jensen saw all of Jared. His hard, heavy length jutted proudly from between his legs, the head flushed dark red and leaking. Jensen was impressed and momentarily rethought what he was about to do. Jared’s eyes were wide with curiosity, but Jensen didn't speak a word. He didn’t have to.
He slowly worked his way down Jared’s body with his mouth, dropping small, dry kisses down his chest and stopping only long enough to swipe his tongue over one of Jared’s nipples. Jared’s nipples didn't seem to be especially sensitive, so after a few more licks just to indulge his own enjoyment of them, Jensen continued onward.
“Should we be doing this?” Jared asked, suddenly.
“Maybe this is all we get,” Jensen replied. He dropped a few kisses to Jared’s abs, making his way southwards. “Let’s make the most of it. What do you think?”
“Jensen, no, wait,” Jared said, and Jensen felt Jared’s hands on his shoulders, tugging him up. Jared’s cock seemed to disagree with Jared’s mouth, if the way his hips thrust forward towards Jensen’s mouth was any indication.
Jensen couldn't resist touching, so he reached out and gently, so gently, let his fingers circle round the head of Jared’s cock, his index finger circling the slit. Looking up, he saw that Jared had propped himself up and was looking down at Jensen. Jensen smirked and lifted his index finger to his mouth, swiping at it with his tongue.
Jared groaned and his eyes drifted shut.
“Jensen,” he breathed. “Just - God that was hot - just wait, please?”
It was the please that did it. Concerned, Jensen moved back up the bed until he was once again face to face with Jared. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, it’s just,” Jared’s eyes were looking over Jensen’s shoulders, down at the blankets, up at the ceiling - basically, anywhere that wasn't Jensen’s face.
“It’s just what, Jared?” Jensen prodded, gently. If Jared really wanted to stop this, Jensen would respect that. He just really hoped that wasn't what Jared wanted.
“It’s stupid,” Jared said, and he finally met Jensen’s eyes with his own. Jensen was surprised at how wet they looked, as if Jared was fighting back tears.
“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Jensen said. He cupped Jared’s face with his hand and rubbed his thumb across his cheek. For a moment he worried that he’d be accused of treating Jared like a girl, but Jared seemed to like the caress. “Whatever it is, tell me. I won’t be mad.”
“Jensen, about earlier, I’m sor-“ Jared began to say, but Jensen interrupted him with a head shake.
“Don’t,” he said, keeping his voice soft. “There’s nothing to apologize for. This thing that’s happening between us - I don’t know what’s causing it, but I’m not sorry it’s happening.”
“Neither am I,” Jared said earnestly.
“So why did you stop me?” Jensen asked. He really wanted to know so maybe he could get back to what he’d been about to do. Once again Jared looked to the side and avoided eye contact.
“I feel like I’m cheating on you - with you,” Jared managed to say. It was hard to tell in this light, but Jensen was pretty sure that Jared was blushing. Jensen’s first reaction was to laugh, but he curbed that as quick as he could because he was almost positive that it wouldn’t be appreciated. A smile did manage to sneak through though.
“I get it Jared, I do,” Jensen said.
“You do?” Jared sounded dubious.
“Yeah, I do,” Jensen said. “I’m not your Jensen. I guess I’m kind of like Jensen 2.0 for you or something. I don’t have the memories of a life shared with you - well I have some of them, like from when we met, and when I died but everything in between is a wash. So it makes sense. But if you want this, Jared, if you want me, then you have to let the Jensen that you used to have be dead. You have to let him go. I’m not him.”
“Jensen 2.0?” Jared repeated. Jensen scanned Jared’s face to see if he’d offended him, and was surprised to see a tiny smile hovering on Jared’s lips. “I actually like that.”
“So does this mean I can-“ Jensen waggled his eyebrows suggestively which drew a laugh out of Jared.
“Can we just-“ Jared leaned in and kissed Jensen again, a slow kiss where Jared thoroughly claimed Jensen. Jensen couldn't help it, he whimpered, but he couldn't feel embarrassed about it when Jared drew their hips back together and thrust against him. From then on, it was all about sensation - the push forward and retreat as they both found their pleasure. Jared once again worked his hand between their bodies, but this time he took them both in hand and stroked aggressively.
“Oh God,” Jensen panted and risked a look down. It was too much, and he felt his orgasm loom ever closer. He closed his eyes tightly and buried his face in Jared’s shoulder. He was going to come embarrassingly loud, he knew it, and so he pressed even tighter.
“Come on, Jensen, come for me baby. I’m gonna-“
With that, Jensen was gone, his orgasm rolling in like the tide and completely overpowering him. He shook, he cursed and by the time he came back to his senses Jared was coming as well.
“Huh,” he heard Jared say through the fog that had settled in his brain. “You never used to be a biter.”
Jensen snapped awake with no lingering sleepiness. Determined, he rolled out of bed and hurried through his morning ablutions. Jared had told him his last name and even spelled it out for him, hard as it was for him to get his letters to work in the dream-world.
Jared Padalecki.
A soon as he was dressed he ducked into the second bedroom that housed his office. He’d been avoiding this room lately, mainly because it was a mess of resumes and other paperwork piled all over his desk and frankly, Jensen hadn't felt like cleaning it. Besides, he’d been checking his emails and doing all his online stuff at work lately. Now though, he looked around and realized that the room was fairly unusable. He was damn lucky he’d found his checkbook the other day for Alona.
Sitting down at the computer, Jensen pressed the button to turn it on and then with one swipe of his arm pushed all the miscellaneous crap and papers off of his desk onto the floor. He’d have to remember to shut the door when he left the room. He didn't want Misha to mistake the crumpled up pile of paper as an alternative to his litter box. Not that Misha ever made mistakes like that, but Jensen didn't want any surprises left for him. Misha was kind of a spiteful cat and Jensen wasn't really surprised by his odd behavior anymore.
Finally, the computer loaded and Jensen pulled up his browser’s search engine, typing in Jared Padalecki with shaky hands. What if he found Jared? What then? Should they pursue a relationship? Jensen was pretty sure he wasn't going to turn up any results for Jared online, at least not for the same Jared Padalecki whose voice had infiltrated his apartment and whose voice and body had become a regular in Jensen’s dreams. His mind drifted back to their tryst last night in the dream-world and he shivered at the memory.
Jensen’s finger hovered over the mouse key for a long time before he finally clicked on ‘search’. Not much came back aside from the usual people finding ads and classmate sites that wanted to take your money to let one talk to people from school that one probably didn't like all that much to begin with. Jensen scrolled through a few pages before an entry caught his eye. He clicked the link and was taken to a forum, where someone named Margaret Padalecki had written a brief essay about her brother, Jared Padalecki, and how he was her hero. As Jensen read, his eyes grew wide with horror. Certainly this couldn't be his Jared Padalecki. And when did he start thinking of Jared Padalecki as his?
“I’m coming!” Jensen heard Jared call from the hallway, and thankfully it distracted Jensen from the essay he’d been reading online and brought to mind completely inappropriate images of Jared’s hand wrapped around both of their-
“Hold on!” Jared shouted, sounding impatient. Jensen heard heavy footsteps heading toward the door, and out of curiosity, he left the office and followed the sounds to the living room.
“Company?” Jensen asked. It still felt really weird to be asking questions of what, for all intents and purposes, was thin air. He heard the door open, and then Jared again.
“Hi Chad. Who’s this?”
Chad again, then, Jensen thought and turned away. It was too weird hearing Jared’s one-sided conversations with people, and Jensen wanted to finish the essay he’d been reading.
“Hi, nice to meet you, Father Morgan,” Jared said, and Jensen’s interest was at once piqued. Father Morgan? As in a priest? Jensen’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. He was much more interested in there being a phantom priest in his apartment. He laughed a little, quietly, because how strange was it that he was starting to accept all of this?
“Thursday? I think? So . . . this is the third day I've heard him. . . Yeah, Jensen, my late husband.”
It was pretty easy to figure out what questions this priest was asking of Jared. What Jensen wanted to know was why Chad had dragged a priest to Jared’s apartment anyway. Surely he wasn't trying to exorcise the place? Jensen wasn't a ghost, or a spirit.
“Jared,” Jensen called, softly. “I need to talk to you about something I read online. Can you get rid of your company?”
It was a few seconds before Jared responded, and then his voice called ever so quietly from the kitchen. Jensen hurried over so he could hear him. “Chad brought a priest over to bless the place. Dude, Chad’s not even Catholic, but he wants to try this before,” Jared’s voice broke a little on that last word, and Jensen heard him inhale deeply before continuing, “-before they try professional help. Jensen, I think they think I’m crazy. Crap!” Then, louder, “Yeah, I’m in here! No, I wasn't talking to him, um, it. I know, talking to it is bad. No, I don’t think it’s a demon, Chad, Christ.”
“Um, everything okay there, Jared?” Jensen asked, amused. Jared didn't respond, but then Jensen really didn't expect him too, not if he had company. And he really didn't want to be the cause of Jared being committed, so instead of following Jared’s voice around the apartment, he returned to his office to finish reading. First, though, he grabbed a piece of fruit from the kitchen to appease his complaining stomach.
A few minutes later the apple sat untouched next to Jensen’s keyboard, forgotten as he stared at the text on his computer monitor. He sighed as he finished the essay. This couldn't be the Jared he was talking to; the one he was seeing in his dreams. This Jared was an eight year old child. At least he had been in 1990, the year he’d died.
Jensen pushed his chair back and stood. He hadn't found any other Jared Padalecki on the internet and with a name like that, he hadn't been surprised. Jensen paced back and forth in front of the computer before he remembered a line from the essay he’d just read. Bending over, he scanned the text until he found it, making sure he’d read it correctly.
“We took the only photo that survived and had a copy of it set into his tombstone. Now he smiles at everyone who comes to visit him. I make sure to visit him as often as I can just to make sure someone’s smiling back.”
Just like that, Jensen knew he had to visit that grave. Sure, the picture was of an eight year old kid, but he was pretty sure, based on what he’d seen of Jared, that a kid version of him would share enough physical characteristics for Jensen to identify him. San Antonio wasn't that far from Austin, about an hour’s drive or so. He double checked the essay to make sure his sister had mentioned the cemetery name and thankfully, she had.
He didn't want to go alone. Maybe it was childish, but the thought of driving there and finding that it was in fact Jared who was buried there scared Jensen. There was only one thing to do, and that was to call Chris. Chris owed him innumerable favors; he could do this for Jensen.
The cemetery Jared was buried in was on the northeast side of San Antonio, surrounded by fields in all directions with only a hint of the city on the horizon. The sky was grey and heavy with threat of rain, and Jensen shivered as he parked his car in the parking lot. In the passenger's side, Chris sat silent, taking in his surroundings just as Jensen was.
The cemetery was nicely maintained, with oak and cedar trees planted here and there. It was peaceful. Jensen took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. This was probably just a dead end. Nothing to get worked up about. He’d slipped out of the apartment without letting Jared know he was leaving, not wanting to bring this up unless something came of it. Now, as he’d driven down to San Antonio he realized that Jared was probably going to think the exorcism or whatever was being done worked. He felt a little guilty for that, but there was literally nothing he could do about that now. It wasn't like he could just call Jared up and apologize.
“You sure you want to do this, man?” Chris asked, breaking the silence.
Jensen gave a wry laugh. “I’m here, aren't I? I just need to prove to myself once and for all that I’m not crazy.”
“Jensen, just bein’ here is crazy,” Chris said with a raised eyebrow. Jensen frowned at him before climbing out of the car and shutting the door probably harder than necessary.
“I don’t know where to look,” Jensen admitted. Chris shrugged.
“Well, the cemetery’s not that big,” Chris said. It was true. The cemetery took up maybe five acres at the most. “Let’s just start at one end and work our way around, yeah?”
“Sounds good to me,” Jensen agreed. Chris took a few steps toward the graves, and then turned and looked at Jensen.
“The grave’s not gonna come to you, you realize?” he said, his words laced with sarcasm. Jensen just rolled his eyes and followed. Together, they made their way around the property, stopping to look at gravestones. Chris seemed to be enjoying himself, actually, if the way he stopped and stared at the older graves was any indication.
“Jensen, check it out, this one’s from 1890,” he said, leaning over a grave and squinting at the faded inscription. “Aw, damn, it was just a baby. It’s so sad to see kid’s graves, you know?”
Jensen rubbed a hand over his face. “Chris, did you forget what we’re here to look at?” He’d explained everything to Chris on the way down here, because it wasn't like Chris could bail out of the car on I-35 at 75 miles per hour (and yes, Jensen may have been speeding). He’d left out the more intimate details, of course he had, but it had been nice to use Chris as a sounding board. Chris, for all his faults and his complete lack of understanding about Jensen’s sexuality, was always there for him when Jensen really needed him.
Chris looked over at Jensen and straightened. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Jensen said. “Can we just get this over with?”
“Yeah, sure,” Chris said. They moved on, and Chris stopped pointing out all the old graves. Jensen’s eyes swept back and forth, noticing that the further they went, the newer the graves were. Finally, they reached the section of graveyard that was held graves from the 1980’s and 90’s, and there, like a punch to the gut, was the headstone he was looking for.
JARED PADALECKI
JULY 19, 1982 - AUGUST 17, 1990
I PRAY THE LORD MY SOUL TO KEEP
Under that, the picture of the child smiled out, and it was, beyond any doubt, his Jared that Jensen saw there. From the shape of those laughing hazel eyes to the dimples that framed the smile, it was Jared.
The world pulsed around Jensen and his vision grew hazy around the edges. All he could see was that gravestone and that face, looking out at whoever took the picture with nothing but pure joy shining there. It struck Jensen how unfair life was, then. It blindsided him and he felt his knees grow weak. Thank God Chris was there - Jensen felt his hand on his shoulder, gripping tight, and it helped steady him, bring him back to reality.
Reality. What the hell even is reality at this point? Jensen wondered. Fact of the matter was that Jared Padalecki was just as dead and buried as he claimed Jensen was. So what was going on here?
“It’s him, isn't it?” Chris asked, his voice gone soft. “What the hell is going on with you Jensen? Are you being haunted by an eight year old?”
“No,” Jensen said. “He’s grown. Just trust me on this one - I am not being haunted by a kid.”
“Hm, so what do you think-“
“Hi!”
A feminine voice interrupted Chris’ question and both men turned to see a woman walking their direction. She was smiling, but there was curiosity in her smile as well. She was tall for a woman and she had the same hazel eyes as the child in the picture.
“Hi there,” Chris responded. “Nice day.”
She glanced up at the clouds and her smile faltered just a little.
“Yeah,” she said, her hands in the pockets of her stylish pea-coat. “If you don’t mind the cold and the rain that’s probably going to start in about five minutes. I've never seen you two here before. I see you've met my brother. You visiting family here?”
“Oh, uh, a friend of the family,” Jensen lied. “I hadn't been to his grave in ages, and I thought it was time to pay my respects. So, this is your brother?”
“Yeah,” she said with a wistful sigh. Her eyes lit on the tombstone and her smile suddenly seemed forced. Since she wasn’t looking at Jensen, he let himself take in her appearance. She was very attractive, which wasn’t a surprise since Jared was gorgeous too. Looking closer though, he noticed scars that emerged from under her collar that traveled up her neck and barely kissed her cheek. She didn't seem ashamed of them, as she made no attempt to hide them. Her long brown hair was pulled away from her face and neck in a ponytail. She must have sensed Jensen looking at the scars, though, for her hand drifted up and her fingertips lightly traced the pattern. It was obviously an old habit, practiced often.
“He saved my life, you know,” she said.
“You don’t have to-“ Chris started, obviously feeling awkward.
“Oh, it’s okay,” she said. “Sorry, I have a bad habit of rambling. I’m Margaret Padalecki. Or Maggie, or Meg, whichever.”
She held out her hand and both Jensen and Chris shook it while they introduced themselves. Perhaps it was weird to introduce themselves to each other in a cemetery, but it felt like the right thing to do, so Jensen went with it.
“So, he saved your life?” Chris asked, when the introductions were complete.
“Yeah,” she said. “There was a fire, and Jared woke everyone up and got us out of there. We almost didn’t make it out, but we did. We both got burned.” Again, her fingers traced the scars. “But then he went back for the dog. Mom and Dad tried to hold him back but - well, he always was good at slipping out of our hands - and he ran back inside to get Sadie, and that was when the ceiling collapsed.”
“Oh God,” Chris said. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jensen rather felt like Chris shouldn’t have asked either, but he wasn’t going to say so.
“No really, it’s okay,” Margaret said. “It was a long time ago. I just don’t like to leave him alone out here for too long.” Her gaze slipped sideways to Jensen and he wondered if perhaps she wasn’t judging him for what he’d said earlier, about it being a while since he’d visited his fictional family friend.
“Well,” Jensen said, really wanting to extricate himself from this awkward situation. “I really have to get back to town. Come on, Chris. It was nice meeting you, Margaret.”
Jensen and Chris walked back towards the car, but few steps away, Chris said, “hold on,” and jogged back over to where Margaret stood. They talked for a brief minute and then Chris held out his cell phone to her and she punched a few numbers in. Grinning like a maniac, Chris then strode back over to Jensen, looking like the cat who got the cream.
“Tell me you did not just hit on a girl in a cemetery who was visiting her brother,” Jensen said with a shake of his head.
“I didn’t hit on a girl in a cemetery who was visiting her brother,” Chris parroted sarcastically. “But I did get her phone number.”
Jared’s expletives when Jensen arrived home and said hi weren’t nearly as colorful or creative as Jensen’s own.
“Hi, Jared,” Jensen said again.
“Jensen! Oh, thank G- I mean, hey, you’re still here. I thought - I thought the blessing had worked. I thought you were gone.”
“Nope, still hanging around,” Jensen replied. “So, I looked you up this morning.”
“Huh?” was Jared’s brilliant response.
“I looked you up,” Jensen said. “On the internet. And I- I kinda found you.”
Jared didn’t respond, at least not right away. After what seemed like a long silence to Jensen, but was probably just a few moments, Jared spoke.
“What do you mean, you found me? Uh, does that mean you’re leaving me?”
Jensen’s stomach twisted, because it sounded for all the world like Jared thought Jensen was about to break up with him. That was a ridiculous thought. How could Jensen break up with someone he didn’t even have a real relationship with? His thoughts were jarred by a sudden flashback to the intimacy of the previous night, not to mention the night Jared had essentially talked Jensen to an orgasm.
“Jensen?” Jared’s voice was timid now.
“No, I’m not leaving you, Jared. Listen, can we go sit down on the couch?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jared said. He still sounded nervous. Jensen felt just as nervous as Jared sounded. How would Jared take being told that he was dead in Jensen’s world?
Jensen’s world.
The implications in those two small words boggled Jensen’s mind and his thoughts officially entered Twilight Zone territory. He purposefully ignored them as he sat down on his couch.
“Jared, are you here?” he asked. God, it would be so much easier if he could just see Jared.
“I’m here,” Jared said. If Jensen wasn’t mistaken, Jared was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him. “You said you found me? I’m not sure that’s good or bad, considering you didn’t show up on my - or your- doorstep. I mean, technically it’s both of ours, since we live in the same place. Except we don’t, I mean. If we did, we could see each other, right?”
“Jared,” Jensen interrupted. He held up a hand even though he knew perfectly well that Jared couldn’t see him.
“Sorry,” Jared mumbled. Jensen couldn’t help but smile at the embarrassed tone in Jared’s voice. “I ramble sometimes.”
“I noticed,” Jensen said. “There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just gonna spit it out, okay? I looked your name up online and the only Jared Padalecki I could find lived down in San Antonio.”
“That’s where I’m from,” Jared said, sounding excited. “Wait, you said lived? As in, past tense.”
“Yeah,” Jensen winced. He’d wondered if Jared would catch that, and he had. “My Jared Padalecki died in a fire on August 17, 1990. I um, I visited his grave today just to make sure it was the right Jared Padalecki, and it is.”
“Oh my God,” Jared breathed. “Holy shit. Oh, my God.”
“Jared?” Jensen asked in concern. It rather sounded like Jared was having a panic attack.
“Jensen, that’s impossible. Does that means my family - my family is alive where you are?”
“Well, yeah,” Jensen said, not really thinking about it. “I actually met your sister there, Margaret. Chris flirted with her, I think he got her num-“
“You met Meg?” Jared’s tone had gone strange, if not a bit choked. Jensen wondered if perhaps he should have kept that bit of information to himself.
“Jared, I-“ Jensen began, but was soon interrupted.
“My family all died in that fire,” Jared said. “I was the only one who got out. I don’t even remember that night - the child psychologists I got sent to all said I blocked it out. Some even accused me of starting the fire, but I didn’t. I didn’t.” The last word was said vehemently, as if Jared was afraid that Jensen would jump to the same conclusion.
“I know you didn’t, Jared,” Jensen stated.
“Officially, it was faulty wiring in the garage,” Jared half-whispered. “None of my relatives wanted me after that - I guess they thought I was a bad seed or something. Maybe they bought into the theory that I’d started the fire, I don’t know, but I ended up in the foster system. That’s how I met Chad; actually, I was sixteen when I started living with the Murray’s. I was a problem kid by then, and they kind of saved me from myself, but-“
“But?” Jensen supplied when Jared didn’t continue.
“They don’t like that I’m gay,” Jared breathed, and Jensen had to strain to hear him. “Oh, they’re not bigots about it, not really. They just like to pretend it’s not real. I think in a way they were relieved when you - no, when my Jensen died. I think they assume I’m going to settle down with a girl now. I know they hope I will.”
Jensen just sat there for a moment, letting that sink in.
“God, Jared, I’m-“ Jensen began.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Jared said without malice. “It’s over and done, and sorry is just something people say when they don’t know what else to say.”
“But I don’t know what else to say,” Jensen admitted. “That’s rough. I wish I was there, or you were here.”
“But that’s just it, isn't it, Jensen?” Jared asked in a brittle tone. “I think we live in two different worlds. But how is that possible? How is it that we can talk to each other?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Jensen said. “It’s not possible. But it’s happening.”
“Yeah,” Jared breathed. “Actually, I might know someone who can help. I’ll be back in a little while.”
And with that, Jensen heard Jared’s footsteps lead to the doorway, and with a phantom creak of the door, he was gone.
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