Fic: This Hell We've Made (Jensen/Jared) 7a/7
Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 11,600 (whole chapter)
Warnings: Mutant!AU, angst, damaged!snarky!Jensen, empath!Jared, and giant gobs of schmoop
Notes: I can't believe it - we made it. Yes, boys and girls, the story is complete - I'm not saying I'll never go back to this verse (I love these boys muchness) but I need a break to work on other things for now and recover. As always, special thanks go to gedry , without whom this story simply would not exist, let alone be what it is today - she never takes credit, but trust me, her coaching was integral in all of this. I also want to thank everyone who read this and cheered me on and waited so patiently (or sometimes not so patiently, but that's ok!) for me to work it all out. This is the longest thing I've ever written and I wouldn't have gotten here without all of you.
Summary - Except for the fact that they were both born with remarkable superhuman abilities, and a seething mutual dislike, Jared and Jensen have nothing in common. Turns out, though, that they may also be the only ones who can save each other from themselves.
Back to Part 6b - Or, Go Back to the Beginnning!
Jared should be unconscious. He'd been out for hours the first time it happened - just months ago, but it feels like a lifetime - completely wrung out from the intensity of Jensen's mind flashing through his; too close, sharing too much. His body wants to be unconscious now - cold and achy, muscles spasming with uncontrollable shivers like he's going through withdrawal - he's just not letting it have its way; can’t spare the time right now. He shakes off the hand that tries to force him into a chair, not even taking his eyes off Dr. Ferris and her team swarm as they around Jensen, hooking his limp body up to tubes and machines.
The connection that's been blossoming between them all this time is like a steel cable now, solid and unwavering, making it easy for Jared to stretch his overworked power out along it and feel everything Jensen is like he's crawling inside his partner. The problem is, there's not much to feel. It's too muted inside, just a pale shade of Jensen instead of the real, vibrant man he's come to know. The sensation is choking him, making him cling and tug on every scrap that's left, trying to hold it close and keep it where it’s supposed to be.
He's pushing haphazardly; knows it, doesn't care. His mental walls are about as sturdy as sieves right now but his fear is just making everyone move faster, work harder to save Jensen, so it doesn't goddamn matter about the moral implications at the moment. It's still not enough.
"Wake her up," he says quietly, voice like mangled razors. Then Jeff's there by his side, or maybe has been all along, but he's looking at Jared without comprehension and that won't goddamn do - they don't have time for this! "Wake the bitch up!" comes out as a growl this time, gets Jeff's eyes shooting wide, but he's still not doing what Jared needs.
"She's the amplifier!" he tries to yell his explanation - as coherently as he’s been able to piece it together in the small corner of his brain that isn’t consumed by worrying over Jensen - but as it stands, it sounds more like a croak. The salt-iron taste on the back of his tongue says his throat's probably bleeding. "It's not a drug, it's her power. If we wake her up, Jensen'll heal faster. We have to wake her up!"
Jeff looks at him seriously; hand coming down on Jared's shoulder only to get brushed away again when even the contact through his uniform seems overwhelming. He can't avoid the rush sympathy - all mixed up with fear and anger - that hits him, though, and he doesn't want it. Damnit, he doesn't need Jeff's compassion, he needs his help because there's no way Jared can afford to leave Jensen right now, not like this.
"Jared," Jeff says steadily, but it's not his usual, too-calm facade, "if that girl ever wakes up, it's not going to be anywhere near here. Sandy's arranging a location for her now, somewhere far away from people."
It's a low blow, pointing out the condition the girl must be in, and any other time it would leave Jared reeling and sick with himself, but overloading her was the only solution at that time; Jensen's touch absorbing just enough of the overflow to allow Jared to direct the power. In this moment, he honestly doesn't give a damn what happens to her - that's for later, once Jensen's safe.
Every joint feels creaky and full of sand as he starts tugging at his uniform, the quivering in his limbs only worsening as cool, antiseptic-scented air kisses the sweaty skin of his hands, his torso. They're all staring as he starts viciously pulling at his boots, letting clothes fly every which way in extension of his seething rage.
"Well?" he barks at some slack-jawed intern who takes a reflexive step behind Dr. Ferris. He already knows the answer though; it's not Jensen's body that needs help.
"Get out," Jared adds without waiting for any response. Dr. Ferris looks at Jeff for a moment before her expression is thrown into upheaval by the surge of fury that rocks through Jared, rippling out into the room. "If you're not helping, you're in my way. Now get out!"
The peons scramble out of the room, followed by an obviously reluctant Dr. Ferris. Jeff lingers longer still, at last sighing a resolute, "I'll keep them as far away as I can, Jay."
Jared nods absently, barely hearing as he circles around next to the bed before peeling off his pants. If it was a real hospital, Jensen would be in one of those little blue gowns, but a real hospital wouldn't help him anymore than the IV tick-tick-ticking as Jensen's body chews through the fluid like it's candy. Instead, he's naked under the thin sheet, his uniform cut away by honed surgical sheers to reveal perfect, unmarked skin that does nothing to suggest how close he is to slipping away forever.
The feeling when Jared's skin first meets Jensen's as he slips onto the too-small bed is jarring and surreal - like fusion; thought and sensation and oxygen replaced by Jensen, seeping into him like a balm on all of the cracked, ruined places inside. It's bizarre and unsettling, painful in the most appealing way; perfect. The small part of his mind that's still steady wonders if they could have had this any other way. Jared shushes that part and molds himself to his partner's side, craving every iota of contact he can get.
The pushing is intentional now - necessary - forcing everything he's feeling onto Jensen like a hooked line, hoping to draw him back in. He's so far away, though, caught in the middle of two wants. Because he knows - Jared can feel him, practically hear him realizing - he could die.
Years’ worth of certainty about his immortality, worth of chasing after the grim reaper with the conviction that he'll never get there, to the thing he's wanted most. It's the darkness in him, the thing Jared's learned to ignore and accept, cool and slick as a knife's edge - blunted most of the time by other emotions, but bald and sharp now. Jensen wants this, has wanted it for most of his life, because he may well be a survivor, but it's never been by choice; he's fought and scrapped and clawed his way through life because there was no way out. And here he is, facing it down, nothing but the warm-soft-bright love holding him back.
Even that feels tiny in the midst of the nothingness taking him over - this fragile, guttering light, barely hanging on. Jared does everything he can to coax it back to life, pouring every ounce of himself he can into it, letting it cling to him in sticky-sweet strands with every touch. He's not convinced at all that Jensen can hear him, but he's whispering against his partner's ear anyway, hoping that something gets through.
"Come on Jensen, you have to come back. Can't leave me like this. I gotta tell you, gotta show you. I'll do anything you want, ok? I promise, I won't fight you, I'll let you have anything you want. You hafta let me show how much I- Please Jen, please. I can't say it if you're not here. You've gotta come back so I can say it, ok? Please, Jensen."
On and on until his wrecked voice has disappeared altogether and he can only keep repeating it in his head. He too open and raw to do anything about the way his emotions are leaking all over the place, can only be glad that Jeff will have found some way to keep them all at bay even if Jared's still roiling and raging at his mentor for not doing more to help, for not finding a way, for sending them out there in the first damn place. Jeff couldn't have known about the girl, but at the moment, that doesn't matter - no more than the fact that his greatest, life-long secret has just been outted to everyone he knows; that they've all had a first-hand taste of why Jared's a thing to be feared. Those things might come later, once his world has stopped threatening to collapse in on itself at the thought of losing Jensen
Later he'll worry about his friends and his life and the potentially terrible thing he did to that girl - about the fact everything he's spent twelve years building falls by the wayside for this man he hasn't even known half a year. Later; once he's got Jensen back. For now he just hangs on tighter to that light inside his partner that all of his faith is resting on and prays to anything that will listen.
***
It's all a jumble for Jensen - where the first time it was all stilted, juddery memories, this is flipbook-fast, but none of the pictures follow a succession; shards of Jared's mind and Tom’s and Misha's and Chad's and others he doesn't even know, grinding him down. Then there's emptiness and ease and Jared hanging on so hard Jensen's sure he's going to break something. Then the red-yellow-black of light through his eyelids and the persistent, infinitesimal sounds of medical equipment. He's woken up in enough hospitals to know that chorus. There's a heavy, tacky heat all over his left side and a rhythmic tickle at the hollow below his ear that he takes too long to decipher is breath.
Jared.
Jensen's eyes fly open, breath hung in his chest, and the first thing that hits him is holy mother of fuck, it feels like an elephant sat on his head. Oh, no, wait, that was just the emotional baggage of the entire fucking team. So, like, six elephants. And a double-decker bus. But Jared's plastered up against him like a second skin; all smooth, slightly sticky warmth that Jensen is rapidly realizing mean they're both naked, but more importantly, alive and breathing, so he can deal with the pain threatening to burst his head like a melon.
Jared's too close to turn his head and look at, their cheeks mushing together instead when Jensen tries to see him. The kid makes one of those soft sleep-sounds of his that never fail to make Jensen's stomach do flip-flops and then jerks in a too-sharp breath as he comes back to consciousness. He struggles briefly against Jensen until he's reared back enough that they're looking in each other's eyes.
The kid looks like he took a lazy stroll through hell; eyes sunken and red, purple beneath them that might as well be bruises for how dark they are and Jensen just wants to kiss them and make them disappear. Jared's too pale, drawn and thin beyond his usual marble-edged physique. His lips crack as the break into this smile that looks like ‘please’ and what the hell kind of hospital is this anyway if they aren't even making sure the kid's taken care of?
"Hi," Jared breaths in a voice that hits three different octaves before it's done, broken into little fragments of sound and silence. Jensen doesn't bother to fight the impulse to lunge against Jared, licking over desert-dry lips before pushing his tongue all the way into the kid's sleep-sour mouth and keeping it there until he feels confident that his spit has at least taken the edge off of the worst of the hurt.
Jared's eyes are wide and dark when Jensen pulls back, darting back and forth between Jensen's with so much worry and fear and hope that Jensen would swear he can actually feel it.
"What's up?" he asks after minute of far too intense silence. Jared promptly has some kind of face-seizure that never settles into an expression before he's shoving at Jensen - not particularly effective since they're still sprawled all over each other in a bed that's only managing to hold them both because it has rails on the sides - and shouting.
"What's up?! You almost died, you idiot! Do you know what you put me through?! Do you know what could have happened? What I could have done to you?! What the hell were you thinking?!"
At this point Jared's maneuvered so he's sitting up, sheets pooling around his hips where's he’s straddled over one of Jensen's legs, which, hi there. Damn, even underfed and pissed off he's still the prettiest thing Jensen's ever had perched on him. Of course that’s the moment he notices the little plastic tube at the bend of Jared’s elbow running up to a bag of clear fluid at the side of the bed - a twin to the one connected to Jensen’s arm.
“What happened?” he asks, thumb feathering along the thin, slightly bruised skin where the needle disappears into Jared’s arm.
For second Jared looks liable to explode into another rage, but then he exhales heavily and all the fight seems to flow out with it; shoulder slumping, face falling, eye going from hotly furious to just sad.
“Jensen, you almost died."
Jensen's throat feels almost too tight all of a sudden to get the words out right, but he forces his mouth to make them sound as casual as he wants them too. "Almost being the operative word."
"God!" Jared snaps, flat hand crashing down on Jensen's belly in a sharp slap that leaves the skin stinging, "You are the most frustrating, infuriating, pain in the ass I have ever met. Could you just maybe not be a smart ass about something for once?"
And, hey, ow. Not cool with the slapping. "Look, man, if you're waiting for me to go all damsel in distress and worship at your feet for saving me, then I hope you brought a fucking book," he bites back, barely getting the last syllable out before Jared's swinging his leg over and off the bed. It's kind of hard to look anything but ridiculous wandering around a hospital room naked, but Jared manages to pull off homicidal fury quite successfully.
"You think I want you to thank me?" he hisses, tearing the needle out of his arm and flinging the plastic tubing connected back at the bag of liquid like it personally offended him, "I don't give a damn about being your hero, Jensen, I'd just like a little confirmation that the four days I spent hooked up to an IV because I refused to leave your side wasn't a complete waste of my time. That maybe I didn't risk brain-damaging that poor girl just to save your lousy ass so that you can go walk into traffic or some other stupid crap because you think you're invulnerable. That you might possibly care just a little bit about the fact that you're still alive - because I care, Jensen, I care a whole damn lot." his voice is going cracked and uneven, but not like before from an injury; now it's emotion written plain across his face, brushing at Jensen's skin like a physical thing. That's absolutely the reason his stomach decides to play musical chairs with his lungs and not at all because of the things Jared's saying or the way he's looking at Jensen like his life depends on keeping his eyes glued to Jensen’s skin. It's just not.
Jared heaves out another sigh, not losing the anger this time, but morphing it into something the feels cooler, wetter, makes Jensen want to rub his scalp to try and shake the sensation. He's talking to the ceiling when he says, "And I want, just one time in our whole damn relationship, to have some kind of important moment without having a knock-down-drag-out over it first. So do you think you could just, please... just lie to me or something because I have reached the end of my rapidly fraying rope I'm kind of bottoming out right now."
There's a thin track of blood leaking from the bend of Jared's elbow, not even enough to drag all the way down his forearm, but it seems to be the only thing Jensen can focus on; the only thing in all that mess he doesn't feel completely unequipped to handle.
The room is small and Jared's still hovering close enough to the bed - like he just can't make himself move away - that Jensen can snag his wrist and tug that arm in, run his tongue over tender flesh until the tang of blood in his mouth disappears and maybe for just a few extra seconds after that because the alive thrum there is kind of nice.
Jared doesn't say anything, which is either a good thing or a bad one, but Jensen can’t tell which. Still, he doesn't jerk his arm away, even when Jensen pulls back to just stare at the web of blue veins beneath delicate skin.
"You really spent four days like this?" he says quietly, mapping out the little wrinkles at the bend with more focus than strictly necessary.
"You really think I'd make that up?" Jared replies flatly. Jensen still can't look up to meet his eyes.
Everything's too still for a minute; silence only broken by them breathing in turn and the hushed drip of Jared's IV slowly puddling on the floor. Jensen feels the moment crackling under his skin, wanting out and yet not sure what will happen once it is, knowing he can never take it back.
It hurts to squeeze the words out, settling on saying as little as he can while still saying it all.
"I waited a really long time to find out if I could die, Jay," he murmurs, half-smothering the words in Jared's skin, "Hoping that I could. Six months ago I'd have beaten you bloody for taking that chance away."
Jared snorts, deadpans, "Sorry to spoil your dream," and tries to take his arm back - that' s basically where Jensen hits the wall.
"Hey," he barks, gripping bruises into Jared's hip when he grabs it and finally finding hazel eyes with his own, "I'm not kicking your ass, am I?"
Things feel weird somehow, with Jared looking at down at him; a bizarre sort of current running between them, shuddering as though he's trembling on the inside, standing on the brink of something he can't even name. It's scary as fuck, is what it is, not the least because it wasn't really Jared that pulled him back. Yeah, sure, Jared had been there, hanging on to him for dear life, but he'd been looking into the abyss knowing even then that he could step right off and nobody would be able to stop him. But he turned around anyway and let Jared reel him back in because this thing inside kept saying over and over that as long as Jared was here, for however long that might be, it would be worth it.
Jensen breaks the eye-contact on a forced cough, turning to look at the blank wall as he makes his hand to release Jared's skin. "So... yeah. You know."
Jared doesn't say anything; doesn't move, barely even breathes as far as Jensen can tell. He can't puzzle out what the kid must be thinking, feeling, only at this moment coming to the jarring realization that that's what he's been picking up on this whole time - Jared’s feelings; and what the fuck does that mean?
"We've got to work on your thank yous," is what Jared ultimately grumbles, but he's crawling back into bed as he says it somehow Jensen knows that Jared's not mad anymore - a little confused and this weird kind of feeling that's like working a knotted muscle; painful and good all at the same time. Well isn't that just freaky as all get out? Jensen decides to ignore it as he has never ignored before.
"We've gotta work on your zombie-look," he teases back instead, poking Jared in his starkly exposed ribs, "Four days man? You need some more body fat or something; four days should not do that to you."
Jared smiles wryly. "There wasn't exactly a lot of sleep involved either." He looks all cute and pouty when he says it, eyelids too low like just mentioning sleep is making him tired. He settles back against Jensen's side, not quite as tight against him as before, but still plenty close, head slowly lowering to rest on Jensen's shoulder.
"You want me to kiss it better?" Jensen offers, mostly kidding even as his lips seem to find the every tip of Jared's nose an irresistible target.
Jared groans and talks to the ceiling again. "Ten minutes back among the living and he's already hitting on me."
"At least you know none of your prudey brainwaves did any permanent damage."
"Yeah, that would have been a tragedy."
Jensen hesitates for half a second before asking, not wanting to break this warm comfortable moment they've fallen into, but now that he's got a chance to think about it, he needs to know. "The team's ok, right?"
Jared tenses a little and buries his face is the curve of Jensen's neck, taking a long, deep breath before he nods in answer. It's not particularly reassuring, but he doubts Jared would lie to him, especially about that, so for the moment he decides to hold off on the details.
For a while, they simply lay together, Jensen's fingers finding their way into Jared's hair - matted and slightly oily, and yet, not nearly as gross as it should be. He keeps thinking that there should be something more, that this ought to be impossibly big and major for both of them because, yeah, Jensen almost died - something he was pretty sure he had about the same odds on as learning to fly without use of a plane - and Jared spent fucking days laying in the hospital with him, refusing to leave, to eat, just trying to keep Jensen around. That's, like, kinda huge, actually. Like, epic romance shit that just does not happen in real life. Then again, people aren't really supposed to heal at super-speed or feel other people's emotions in real life either, so maybe this all makes perfect, fucked up sense. Either way, he doesn't feel anywhere close to as freaked out by it as he should. In fact, he really feels sort of good about it; all warm and settled in like... like he fits. Like right here, right now, he's exactly where he's supposed to be.
Of course that's inherently stupid because he's lying in the damn hospital with Jared looking like a Holocaust survivor and a catheter shoved up his dick. Which he immediately regrets thinking about. Yeah, great job there, heart and soul - way to suck at picking the place for Jensen to 'belong'.
Jared's ribs shake softly against him and it takes Jensen a second work out that the kid is laughing quietly against his skin.
"What?" he pokes Jared in the arm curiously then immediately feels bad because his partner seems so delicate right now that even that touch might turn him black and blue.
Jared smiles at him, hand finding a natural resting place in the center of Jensen's chest. "You're just really emotionally responsive," he says, humor all over the sound, "I'm sort of glad that I can't hear your thoughts all the time; not sure I could handle the back and forth."
That makes something click for Jensen, his mind reluctantly slogging back through memories of that night.
"You did, though, didn't you?" he narrows his eyes at as much of Jared’s face as he can see in this position, "You were talking to me inside my head."
Jared looks slightly nervous but he nods, pressing in just the tiniest bit closer to Jensen's side, so subtly he may not have even meant to.
"It's not the first time," Jared admits shyly. "I mean, it's the first time I've talked to you like that, but I've heard you before. Just a couple of times," he adds as an afterthought.
Jensen turns that over in his head, running the gamut from totally weirded out to curious to pissed and back. Maybe Jared's got a point about that emotionally responsive thing. Ultimately though, it comes down to the fact that in order to make sure Jared never overhears him again, he'd have to quit being around Jared, and Jensen's at least honest enough with himself to realize that that's way outside of the realm of possibility. Somehow or other, he wound up developing a Jared-addiction and he doesn't have any particular desire to kick the habit.
"Hey, what girl?" he asks after a few minutes lost in thought. Now that he's considering it, more and more feedback is coming to him from the last mission, filtering in around some kind of fuzzy mental block that he seems to have built up; he's pretty sure he remembers Jared thinking something about 'the girl' and he definitely said something about one a while ago when he was yelling.
"Oh, um, you remember how we thought somebody had come up with some kind of chemical amplifier for our powers?" Jared slides back into his 'leader' voice so smooth it's barely even noticeable, "Well, turns out it was actually just someone else's power doing it. This girl, Alona Tal, she'd been missing for a few months, kidnapped by the group Lindberg was working for, apparently. I don't know how they figured out what she could do, but it seems they were planning to use her to ramp up Lindberg's abilities for some kind of attack. The details are still sketchy, she's..." here Jared stumbles, voice going soft in a way that makes Jensen automatically stroke a soothing tempo down the back of his partner's neck, "well, she's going to be ok, but she's understandably shaken up."
The name strikes a chord, an image coming immediately to mind of a pretty, blonde girl holding up a certificate next to a pasted on grin. "She was the in one of the files," he thinks out loud, "She, like, one some kind of President's award or something."
Jared 'mmm's his agreement and suddenly Jensen's not the only one rubbing a comforting rhythm into his partner's skin.
"I crossed her off my list." It's like he swallowed a bucket of cold marbles, the sensation churning around in him for no good reason.
"Everyone did, Jen," Jared murmurs, nosing at the hinge of Jensen's jaw, "It's a fluke she even made our list to begin with. It's not your fault."
And Jensen knows that; he does. He does. It's just... well, it probably sucked pretty hard to be kidnapped by a bunch of dickwads and having them use your power and stuff and maybe if he'd just noticed something in the file... No. Shut up. Not his fault, not his fault. Not like he even cares anyway.
"What about Lindberg?" There may be a tiny hint of growl mixed in there somewhere, but really he's just being efficient in his information gathering. Like how, if Lindberg's alive, Jensen will efficiently go make sure he's not any more. That's totally reasonable, after all, it's Lindberg's fault that Jared got hurt - twice, in fact - and he was involved with those pricks who kidnapped the girl which means it's also his fault that Jensen's got this weird guilty feeling, so he'd be completely justified in doing the world a favor and taking care of that bastard.
Evidently it's a moot point though, because Jared solemnly and somewhat sternly informs him, "Dead."
"Good."
Jared's soundless in response, something like grudging disapproval tickling at the corner of Jensen's mind. Man, he really hopes this shit wears off.
"So, does that mean everybody knows about you now?" he prompts, largely to distract Jared from his - absolutely unfair - condemnation.
Jared squirms, seems to catch himself in the middle of it, and holds still again. Jensen doesn't even need that not-so-subtle tell to know how uncomfortable Jared is. "Yeah. I mean, just the team, but yeah."
"You ok with that?"
"Don't have much choice in the matter."
The hollow sound to that doesn't sit right with Jensen, kneads at something in him insistently until he breaks the silence with the slightly put-on non-chalance of, "Well, you're stuck with me, no matter what, if that makes you feel any better."
Jared snorts disdainfully again, but Jensen can feel the kid’s mouth curving upward against his skin. "I don't know, Jen, I'm starting to think you're more trouble than you're worth," he grumps, knuckling at Jensen's ribs playfully.
"Dude, you saved my life, I'm sticking around whether you like it or not," Jensen ruffles Jared's dirty hair, "Gotta get my revenge."
Jared looks up at him, flash of pink as he sticks his tongue out at Jensen and if it weren't for the way he's mostly trapped under Jared at the moment, he'd totally have that slick little slip in his mouth by now.
Hazel eyes glitter at him from underneath puffy lids, but Jared’s voice doesn’t seem to get the message that they’re trying to go lighthearted with this shit. "Then I guess I don't have much choice in that either," he says from up close, soft like the kiss that Jensen can’t resist leaning in and giving. Jared sighs into it, breathy, almost relieved, and then it turns into a library-whisper of a moan as his lips part and the faintest flicker of tongue touches Jensen’s lips. Just like always, it makes Jensen feel all gooey inside that Jared’s the one deepening it, enticing him open, but it’s different too, in some way he can’t describe and might already be a junkie for.
Slow and languorous, their mouths meet; lick and nip and taste each other just because they’re both here and it feels good and they can. Jared’s hands are hot and right on his skin, no intent but to feel and make Jensen feel and he wants more in the same way he wants it to never end.
"I would have missed you,” he catches himself muttering around Jared’s slick lips, “If I'd died." He has no intention of saying it, but then it’s already said and he can’t really be sure he wants to take it back since it just makes Jared kiss him harder, deeper, tight breaths huffed against his cheek.
"The feeling's mutual," Jared slurs against him, dipping back into Jensen's mouth immediately like the fate of the world depends on him giving Jensen's tonsils a thorough tongue bath. It's kind of brain-melting, like, to the point where he may have forgotten large portions of the English language, not that he really gives a fuck because talking is wildly overrated when there's the possibility of making out with Jared instead.
Fuck, he'd give just about anything to be able to get hard right now and really take advantage of Jared's new-found, if mildly inexplicable, enthusiasm but he has a feeling taking his own catheter out would both A) suck to the point of leaving him curled in a quivering ball of pain in the middle of the bed and B) probably spoil the mood a little. So he takes what he's got and gets the fingers off one hand tangled up in Jared's hair, holding him in place though the kid seems to have no inclination to do anything but keep right on feeding off of Jensen's mouth, maybe forever, while his other hand finds the curve of Jared's ass, encouraging the lazy rock of his hips and the slow glide of his more-than-attentive cock against Jensen's thigh.
The kid doesn't seem to be aiming to get off, his motions too syrup-slow and all over the place to be doing more than teasing the hell out of himself. It's more like he basking in it - in Jensen - rubbing and touching and worshipping just everywhere, everything. He's not even going to lie, it's totally blowing his mind. If he'd known it would get him this kind of reaction, he'd have taken near-death for the win months ago. Jesus.
"Jensen," Jared exhales against his ear like a prayer - and he's really starting to rethink that catheter thing because damn - but Jared's still going, "I-"
Like a side-swipe, it hits him that they're on the brink. The brink of what, he hasn't got a clue, but something; something possibly big and it's giving him that roller coaster, floating-stomach sensation, caught between wanting to leap right over the edge and to hit the brakes as hard as he can. It sputters through his veins, scattershot electric current that sparks and flares at random intervals, lighting up parts of him at random.
Jared might sense it, or else backs off on his own, or maybe just didn't have anything planned for the rest of that sentence and Jensen's subconscious is being a paranoid bitch, but whatever the reason, nothing follows but a moan and the pull of Jared's teeth against his neck, just the right side of pain to send an uncontrollable shiver down Jensen's spine.
Jensen groans, back arching into every inch of contact as Jared muffles him with his mouth. They must both completely fail to notice the sound of the door opening, or else it's a really quiet door because they don't stop the hardcore tongue fuck they've got going until Jeff's voice echoes "Jared," off the walls loud enough to suggest it's not his first attempt at getting their attention. The kid jerks away immediately, sitting up and then crawling off of the bed to a folded pile of clothes on one of the chairs; robbing Jensen of all of that sweet touch he was thriving on. He always knew he didn't like Jeff.
Their leader very studiously watches the wall while Jared slides into a loose pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Jensen thinks might be his own - and damn right he better, Jensen is so not afraid of kicking Jeff's ass if it comes down to him ogling Jay's body; Jensen's got exclusive rights on that property. Once Jared is fully - tragically - clothed, Jeff faces them both, turning a slightly unsteady smile on Jensen.
"The heart monitors showed a spike, I just wanted to make sure you were alright," the older man says, a little apologetically. He doesn't actually look any better off than Jared, sleep-deprived dark eyes and at least a couple of days’ worth of stubble darkening his jaw. Huh, Jensen hadn't given much thought to anybody besides Jared caring that much about what was going on with him and he's not exactly sure what to do with the knowledge now that it’s sitting like a lump in his sex-hungry brain.
Jared's hand settles warm over his own and tension Jensen didn't realize he was holding bleeds out. He wiggles his fingers enough to get a couple of them laced with Jared's, just to make sure he doesn't go anywhere.
"Yep, we're good," Jensen even throws in a thumbs up, hoping that Jeff will recognize it combined with the brevity as the universal sign for 'get lost, jackass, I'm trying to get laid'. Jared squeezes his fingers and shoots him and exasperated look; Jeff just seems amused, in an incredulous sort of way.
"Well good," Jeff intones along with a huff of a laugh that could be either disbelieving or thankful. "I'll go get Samantha, she'll want to give you a once over. You're feeling alright?"
"Yeah, no, fine. Good to go, don't even need the doc," he assures, maybe a little too hastily if the way Jared glares at him when he takes out his IV - like the kid didn't just do the same damn thing not half an hour ago - is anything to go by. What? He was really enjoying their heartfelt reunion, alright, and Jeff's fucking it up.
"Let's just make sure of that, shall we?" Jeff argues, an order disguised as a question. "And I'll get you both some food." This time the stern look is all for Jared and Jensen goes ahead and mirrors it, because seriously, the kid could have at least eaten, Jesus. Overachiever.
Jeff's already half out of the room when Jensen remembers to shout after him, "And get somebody in here to get this thing out of my cock, too!"
The older man pauses, turns back around with one eyebrow high. Jared laughs and nods, "He's back to normal, in case you had doubts."
Jeff chuckles too, shaking his head but smiling that soft, affectionate thing that seems to be the new trend at Jensen when he says, "Good to have you back."
Jared smiles after his mentor for a few seconds after he's gone, shifting his hold on Jensen's fingers until they're interlaced - until they're fucking holding hands like a couple of high school kids at the mall - and Jensen's going to pull away any second now. Any second.
Then the kid's laying back down in the bed, propped up on one elbow with their twined hands resting across Jensen's belly. Oh hey, more kissing - that's way more important than dealing with Jared's girly hand-holding fetish, so he'll just let it go for now.
"It really is, you know; good to have you back. Great to have you back," Jared whispers, far enough into tender, toe-curling kisses that Jensen can only manage a grunt in reply. "And Jensen, just so you know, if you ever pull something idiotic like that again, I swear I'll make you wish you were dead, you ass."
His fingers flex against Jensen's skin, dig in almost possessively, not quite hard enough to mark. The best response Jensen can come up with is a moan.
On to Part 7b
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 11,600 (whole chapter)
Warnings: Mutant!AU, angst, damaged!snarky!Jensen, empath!Jared, and giant gobs of schmoop
Notes: I can't believe it - we made it. Yes, boys and girls, the story is complete - I'm not saying I'll never go back to this verse (I love these boys muchness) but I need a break to work on other things for now and recover. As always, special thanks go to gedry , without whom this story simply would not exist, let alone be what it is today - she never takes credit, but trust me, her coaching was integral in all of this. I also want to thank everyone who read this and cheered me on and waited so patiently (or sometimes not so patiently, but that's ok!) for me to work it all out. This is the longest thing I've ever written and I wouldn't have gotten here without all of you.
Summary - Except for the fact that they were both born with remarkable superhuman abilities, and a seething mutual dislike, Jared and Jensen have nothing in common. Turns out, though, that they may also be the only ones who can save each other from themselves.
Back to Part 6b - Or, Go Back to the Beginnning!
Jared should be unconscious. He'd been out for hours the first time it happened - just months ago, but it feels like a lifetime - completely wrung out from the intensity of Jensen's mind flashing through his; too close, sharing too much. His body wants to be unconscious now - cold and achy, muscles spasming with uncontrollable shivers like he's going through withdrawal - he's just not letting it have its way; can’t spare the time right now. He shakes off the hand that tries to force him into a chair, not even taking his eyes off Dr. Ferris and her team swarm as they around Jensen, hooking his limp body up to tubes and machines.
The connection that's been blossoming between them all this time is like a steel cable now, solid and unwavering, making it easy for Jared to stretch his overworked power out along it and feel everything Jensen is like he's crawling inside his partner. The problem is, there's not much to feel. It's too muted inside, just a pale shade of Jensen instead of the real, vibrant man he's come to know. The sensation is choking him, making him cling and tug on every scrap that's left, trying to hold it close and keep it where it’s supposed to be.
He's pushing haphazardly; knows it, doesn't care. His mental walls are about as sturdy as sieves right now but his fear is just making everyone move faster, work harder to save Jensen, so it doesn't goddamn matter about the moral implications at the moment. It's still not enough.
"Wake her up," he says quietly, voice like mangled razors. Then Jeff's there by his side, or maybe has been all along, but he's looking at Jared without comprehension and that won't goddamn do - they don't have time for this! "Wake the bitch up!" comes out as a growl this time, gets Jeff's eyes shooting wide, but he's still not doing what Jared needs.
"She's the amplifier!" he tries to yell his explanation - as coherently as he’s been able to piece it together in the small corner of his brain that isn’t consumed by worrying over Jensen - but as it stands, it sounds more like a croak. The salt-iron taste on the back of his tongue says his throat's probably bleeding. "It's not a drug, it's her power. If we wake her up, Jensen'll heal faster. We have to wake her up!"
Jeff looks at him seriously; hand coming down on Jared's shoulder only to get brushed away again when even the contact through his uniform seems overwhelming. He can't avoid the rush sympathy - all mixed up with fear and anger - that hits him, though, and he doesn't want it. Damnit, he doesn't need Jeff's compassion, he needs his help because there's no way Jared can afford to leave Jensen right now, not like this.
"Jared," Jeff says steadily, but it's not his usual, too-calm facade, "if that girl ever wakes up, it's not going to be anywhere near here. Sandy's arranging a location for her now, somewhere far away from people."
It's a low blow, pointing out the condition the girl must be in, and any other time it would leave Jared reeling and sick with himself, but overloading her was the only solution at that time; Jensen's touch absorbing just enough of the overflow to allow Jared to direct the power. In this moment, he honestly doesn't give a damn what happens to her - that's for later, once Jensen's safe.
Every joint feels creaky and full of sand as he starts tugging at his uniform, the quivering in his limbs only worsening as cool, antiseptic-scented air kisses the sweaty skin of his hands, his torso. They're all staring as he starts viciously pulling at his boots, letting clothes fly every which way in extension of his seething rage.
"Well?" he barks at some slack-jawed intern who takes a reflexive step behind Dr. Ferris. He already knows the answer though; it's not Jensen's body that needs help.
"Get out," Jared adds without waiting for any response. Dr. Ferris looks at Jeff for a moment before her expression is thrown into upheaval by the surge of fury that rocks through Jared, rippling out into the room. "If you're not helping, you're in my way. Now get out!"
The peons scramble out of the room, followed by an obviously reluctant Dr. Ferris. Jeff lingers longer still, at last sighing a resolute, "I'll keep them as far away as I can, Jay."
Jared nods absently, barely hearing as he circles around next to the bed before peeling off his pants. If it was a real hospital, Jensen would be in one of those little blue gowns, but a real hospital wouldn't help him anymore than the IV tick-tick-ticking as Jensen's body chews through the fluid like it's candy. Instead, he's naked under the thin sheet, his uniform cut away by honed surgical sheers to reveal perfect, unmarked skin that does nothing to suggest how close he is to slipping away forever.
The feeling when Jared's skin first meets Jensen's as he slips onto the too-small bed is jarring and surreal - like fusion; thought and sensation and oxygen replaced by Jensen, seeping into him like a balm on all of the cracked, ruined places inside. It's bizarre and unsettling, painful in the most appealing way; perfect. The small part of his mind that's still steady wonders if they could have had this any other way. Jared shushes that part and molds himself to his partner's side, craving every iota of contact he can get.
The pushing is intentional now - necessary - forcing everything he's feeling onto Jensen like a hooked line, hoping to draw him back in. He's so far away, though, caught in the middle of two wants. Because he knows - Jared can feel him, practically hear him realizing - he could die.
Years’ worth of certainty about his immortality, worth of chasing after the grim reaper with the conviction that he'll never get there, to the thing he's wanted most. It's the darkness in him, the thing Jared's learned to ignore and accept, cool and slick as a knife's edge - blunted most of the time by other emotions, but bald and sharp now. Jensen wants this, has wanted it for most of his life, because he may well be a survivor, but it's never been by choice; he's fought and scrapped and clawed his way through life because there was no way out. And here he is, facing it down, nothing but the warm-soft-bright love holding him back.
Even that feels tiny in the midst of the nothingness taking him over - this fragile, guttering light, barely hanging on. Jared does everything he can to coax it back to life, pouring every ounce of himself he can into it, letting it cling to him in sticky-sweet strands with every touch. He's not convinced at all that Jensen can hear him, but he's whispering against his partner's ear anyway, hoping that something gets through.
"Come on Jensen, you have to come back. Can't leave me like this. I gotta tell you, gotta show you. I'll do anything you want, ok? I promise, I won't fight you, I'll let you have anything you want. You hafta let me show how much I- Please Jen, please. I can't say it if you're not here. You've gotta come back so I can say it, ok? Please, Jensen."
On and on until his wrecked voice has disappeared altogether and he can only keep repeating it in his head. He too open and raw to do anything about the way his emotions are leaking all over the place, can only be glad that Jeff will have found some way to keep them all at bay even if Jared's still roiling and raging at his mentor for not doing more to help, for not finding a way, for sending them out there in the first damn place. Jeff couldn't have known about the girl, but at the moment, that doesn't matter - no more than the fact that his greatest, life-long secret has just been outted to everyone he knows; that they've all had a first-hand taste of why Jared's a thing to be feared. Those things might come later, once his world has stopped threatening to collapse in on itself at the thought of losing Jensen
Later he'll worry about his friends and his life and the potentially terrible thing he did to that girl - about the fact everything he's spent twelve years building falls by the wayside for this man he hasn't even known half a year. Later; once he's got Jensen back. For now he just hangs on tighter to that light inside his partner that all of his faith is resting on and prays to anything that will listen.
***
It's all a jumble for Jensen - where the first time it was all stilted, juddery memories, this is flipbook-fast, but none of the pictures follow a succession; shards of Jared's mind and Tom’s and Misha's and Chad's and others he doesn't even know, grinding him down. Then there's emptiness and ease and Jared hanging on so hard Jensen's sure he's going to break something. Then the red-yellow-black of light through his eyelids and the persistent, infinitesimal sounds of medical equipment. He's woken up in enough hospitals to know that chorus. There's a heavy, tacky heat all over his left side and a rhythmic tickle at the hollow below his ear that he takes too long to decipher is breath.
Jared.
Jensen's eyes fly open, breath hung in his chest, and the first thing that hits him is holy mother of fuck, it feels like an elephant sat on his head. Oh, no, wait, that was just the emotional baggage of the entire fucking team. So, like, six elephants. And a double-decker bus. But Jared's plastered up against him like a second skin; all smooth, slightly sticky warmth that Jensen is rapidly realizing mean they're both naked, but more importantly, alive and breathing, so he can deal with the pain threatening to burst his head like a melon.
Jared's too close to turn his head and look at, their cheeks mushing together instead when Jensen tries to see him. The kid makes one of those soft sleep-sounds of his that never fail to make Jensen's stomach do flip-flops and then jerks in a too-sharp breath as he comes back to consciousness. He struggles briefly against Jensen until he's reared back enough that they're looking in each other's eyes.
The kid looks like he took a lazy stroll through hell; eyes sunken and red, purple beneath them that might as well be bruises for how dark they are and Jensen just wants to kiss them and make them disappear. Jared's too pale, drawn and thin beyond his usual marble-edged physique. His lips crack as the break into this smile that looks like ‘please’ and what the hell kind of hospital is this anyway if they aren't even making sure the kid's taken care of?
"Hi," Jared breaths in a voice that hits three different octaves before it's done, broken into little fragments of sound and silence. Jensen doesn't bother to fight the impulse to lunge against Jared, licking over desert-dry lips before pushing his tongue all the way into the kid's sleep-sour mouth and keeping it there until he feels confident that his spit has at least taken the edge off of the worst of the hurt.
Jared's eyes are wide and dark when Jensen pulls back, darting back and forth between Jensen's with so much worry and fear and hope that Jensen would swear he can actually feel it.
"What's up?" he asks after minute of far too intense silence. Jared promptly has some kind of face-seizure that never settles into an expression before he's shoving at Jensen - not particularly effective since they're still sprawled all over each other in a bed that's only managing to hold them both because it has rails on the sides - and shouting.
"What's up?! You almost died, you idiot! Do you know what you put me through?! Do you know what could have happened? What I could have done to you?! What the hell were you thinking?!"
At this point Jared's maneuvered so he's sitting up, sheets pooling around his hips where's he’s straddled over one of Jensen's legs, which, hi there. Damn, even underfed and pissed off he's still the prettiest thing Jensen's ever had perched on him. Of course that’s the moment he notices the little plastic tube at the bend of Jared’s elbow running up to a bag of clear fluid at the side of the bed - a twin to the one connected to Jensen’s arm.
“What happened?” he asks, thumb feathering along the thin, slightly bruised skin where the needle disappears into Jared’s arm.
For second Jared looks liable to explode into another rage, but then he exhales heavily and all the fight seems to flow out with it; shoulder slumping, face falling, eye going from hotly furious to just sad.
“Jensen, you almost died."
Jensen's throat feels almost too tight all of a sudden to get the words out right, but he forces his mouth to make them sound as casual as he wants them too. "Almost being the operative word."
"God!" Jared snaps, flat hand crashing down on Jensen's belly in a sharp slap that leaves the skin stinging, "You are the most frustrating, infuriating, pain in the ass I have ever met. Could you just maybe not be a smart ass about something for once?"
And, hey, ow. Not cool with the slapping. "Look, man, if you're waiting for me to go all damsel in distress and worship at your feet for saving me, then I hope you brought a fucking book," he bites back, barely getting the last syllable out before Jared's swinging his leg over and off the bed. It's kind of hard to look anything but ridiculous wandering around a hospital room naked, but Jared manages to pull off homicidal fury quite successfully.
"You think I want you to thank me?" he hisses, tearing the needle out of his arm and flinging the plastic tubing connected back at the bag of liquid like it personally offended him, "I don't give a damn about being your hero, Jensen, I'd just like a little confirmation that the four days I spent hooked up to an IV because I refused to leave your side wasn't a complete waste of my time. That maybe I didn't risk brain-damaging that poor girl just to save your lousy ass so that you can go walk into traffic or some other stupid crap because you think you're invulnerable. That you might possibly care just a little bit about the fact that you're still alive - because I care, Jensen, I care a whole damn lot." his voice is going cracked and uneven, but not like before from an injury; now it's emotion written plain across his face, brushing at Jensen's skin like a physical thing. That's absolutely the reason his stomach decides to play musical chairs with his lungs and not at all because of the things Jared's saying or the way he's looking at Jensen like his life depends on keeping his eyes glued to Jensen’s skin. It's just not.
Jared heaves out another sigh, not losing the anger this time, but morphing it into something the feels cooler, wetter, makes Jensen want to rub his scalp to try and shake the sensation. He's talking to the ceiling when he says, "And I want, just one time in our whole damn relationship, to have some kind of important moment without having a knock-down-drag-out over it first. So do you think you could just, please... just lie to me or something because I have reached the end of my rapidly fraying rope I'm kind of bottoming out right now."
There's a thin track of blood leaking from the bend of Jared's elbow, not even enough to drag all the way down his forearm, but it seems to be the only thing Jensen can focus on; the only thing in all that mess he doesn't feel completely unequipped to handle.
The room is small and Jared's still hovering close enough to the bed - like he just can't make himself move away - that Jensen can snag his wrist and tug that arm in, run his tongue over tender flesh until the tang of blood in his mouth disappears and maybe for just a few extra seconds after that because the alive thrum there is kind of nice.
Jared doesn't say anything, which is either a good thing or a bad one, but Jensen can’t tell which. Still, he doesn't jerk his arm away, even when Jensen pulls back to just stare at the web of blue veins beneath delicate skin.
"You really spent four days like this?" he says quietly, mapping out the little wrinkles at the bend with more focus than strictly necessary.
"You really think I'd make that up?" Jared replies flatly. Jensen still can't look up to meet his eyes.
Everything's too still for a minute; silence only broken by them breathing in turn and the hushed drip of Jared's IV slowly puddling on the floor. Jensen feels the moment crackling under his skin, wanting out and yet not sure what will happen once it is, knowing he can never take it back.
It hurts to squeeze the words out, settling on saying as little as he can while still saying it all.
"I waited a really long time to find out if I could die, Jay," he murmurs, half-smothering the words in Jared's skin, "Hoping that I could. Six months ago I'd have beaten you bloody for taking that chance away."
Jared snorts, deadpans, "Sorry to spoil your dream," and tries to take his arm back - that' s basically where Jensen hits the wall.
"Hey," he barks, gripping bruises into Jared's hip when he grabs it and finally finding hazel eyes with his own, "I'm not kicking your ass, am I?"
Things feel weird somehow, with Jared looking at down at him; a bizarre sort of current running between them, shuddering as though he's trembling on the inside, standing on the brink of something he can't even name. It's scary as fuck, is what it is, not the least because it wasn't really Jared that pulled him back. Yeah, sure, Jared had been there, hanging on to him for dear life, but he'd been looking into the abyss knowing even then that he could step right off and nobody would be able to stop him. But he turned around anyway and let Jared reel him back in because this thing inside kept saying over and over that as long as Jared was here, for however long that might be, it would be worth it.
Jensen breaks the eye-contact on a forced cough, turning to look at the blank wall as he makes his hand to release Jared's skin. "So... yeah. You know."
Jared doesn't say anything; doesn't move, barely even breathes as far as Jensen can tell. He can't puzzle out what the kid must be thinking, feeling, only at this moment coming to the jarring realization that that's what he's been picking up on this whole time - Jared’s feelings; and what the fuck does that mean?
"We've got to work on your thank yous," is what Jared ultimately grumbles, but he's crawling back into bed as he says it somehow Jensen knows that Jared's not mad anymore - a little confused and this weird kind of feeling that's like working a knotted muscle; painful and good all at the same time. Well isn't that just freaky as all get out? Jensen decides to ignore it as he has never ignored before.
"We've gotta work on your zombie-look," he teases back instead, poking Jared in his starkly exposed ribs, "Four days man? You need some more body fat or something; four days should not do that to you."
Jared smiles wryly. "There wasn't exactly a lot of sleep involved either." He looks all cute and pouty when he says it, eyelids too low like just mentioning sleep is making him tired. He settles back against Jensen's side, not quite as tight against him as before, but still plenty close, head slowly lowering to rest on Jensen's shoulder.
"You want me to kiss it better?" Jensen offers, mostly kidding even as his lips seem to find the every tip of Jared's nose an irresistible target.
Jared groans and talks to the ceiling again. "Ten minutes back among the living and he's already hitting on me."
"At least you know none of your prudey brainwaves did any permanent damage."
"Yeah, that would have been a tragedy."
Jensen hesitates for half a second before asking, not wanting to break this warm comfortable moment they've fallen into, but now that he's got a chance to think about it, he needs to know. "The team's ok, right?"
Jared tenses a little and buries his face is the curve of Jensen's neck, taking a long, deep breath before he nods in answer. It's not particularly reassuring, but he doubts Jared would lie to him, especially about that, so for the moment he decides to hold off on the details.
For a while, they simply lay together, Jensen's fingers finding their way into Jared's hair - matted and slightly oily, and yet, not nearly as gross as it should be. He keeps thinking that there should be something more, that this ought to be impossibly big and major for both of them because, yeah, Jensen almost died - something he was pretty sure he had about the same odds on as learning to fly without use of a plane - and Jared spent fucking days laying in the hospital with him, refusing to leave, to eat, just trying to keep Jensen around. That's, like, kinda huge, actually. Like, epic romance shit that just does not happen in real life. Then again, people aren't really supposed to heal at super-speed or feel other people's emotions in real life either, so maybe this all makes perfect, fucked up sense. Either way, he doesn't feel anywhere close to as freaked out by it as he should. In fact, he really feels sort of good about it; all warm and settled in like... like he fits. Like right here, right now, he's exactly where he's supposed to be.
Of course that's inherently stupid because he's lying in the damn hospital with Jared looking like a Holocaust survivor and a catheter shoved up his dick. Which he immediately regrets thinking about. Yeah, great job there, heart and soul - way to suck at picking the place for Jensen to 'belong'.
Jared's ribs shake softly against him and it takes Jensen a second work out that the kid is laughing quietly against his skin.
"What?" he pokes Jared in the arm curiously then immediately feels bad because his partner seems so delicate right now that even that touch might turn him black and blue.
Jared smiles at him, hand finding a natural resting place in the center of Jensen's chest. "You're just really emotionally responsive," he says, humor all over the sound, "I'm sort of glad that I can't hear your thoughts all the time; not sure I could handle the back and forth."
That makes something click for Jensen, his mind reluctantly slogging back through memories of that night.
"You did, though, didn't you?" he narrows his eyes at as much of Jared’s face as he can see in this position, "You were talking to me inside my head."
Jared looks slightly nervous but he nods, pressing in just the tiniest bit closer to Jensen's side, so subtly he may not have even meant to.
"It's not the first time," Jared admits shyly. "I mean, it's the first time I've talked to you like that, but I've heard you before. Just a couple of times," he adds as an afterthought.
Jensen turns that over in his head, running the gamut from totally weirded out to curious to pissed and back. Maybe Jared's got a point about that emotionally responsive thing. Ultimately though, it comes down to the fact that in order to make sure Jared never overhears him again, he'd have to quit being around Jared, and Jensen's at least honest enough with himself to realize that that's way outside of the realm of possibility. Somehow or other, he wound up developing a Jared-addiction and he doesn't have any particular desire to kick the habit.
"Hey, what girl?" he asks after a few minutes lost in thought. Now that he's considering it, more and more feedback is coming to him from the last mission, filtering in around some kind of fuzzy mental block that he seems to have built up; he's pretty sure he remembers Jared thinking something about 'the girl' and he definitely said something about one a while ago when he was yelling.
"Oh, um, you remember how we thought somebody had come up with some kind of chemical amplifier for our powers?" Jared slides back into his 'leader' voice so smooth it's barely even noticeable, "Well, turns out it was actually just someone else's power doing it. This girl, Alona Tal, she'd been missing for a few months, kidnapped by the group Lindberg was working for, apparently. I don't know how they figured out what she could do, but it seems they were planning to use her to ramp up Lindberg's abilities for some kind of attack. The details are still sketchy, she's..." here Jared stumbles, voice going soft in a way that makes Jensen automatically stroke a soothing tempo down the back of his partner's neck, "well, she's going to be ok, but she's understandably shaken up."
The name strikes a chord, an image coming immediately to mind of a pretty, blonde girl holding up a certificate next to a pasted on grin. "She was the in one of the files," he thinks out loud, "She, like, one some kind of President's award or something."
Jared 'mmm's his agreement and suddenly Jensen's not the only one rubbing a comforting rhythm into his partner's skin.
"I crossed her off my list." It's like he swallowed a bucket of cold marbles, the sensation churning around in him for no good reason.
"Everyone did, Jen," Jared murmurs, nosing at the hinge of Jensen's jaw, "It's a fluke she even made our list to begin with. It's not your fault."
And Jensen knows that; he does. He does. It's just... well, it probably sucked pretty hard to be kidnapped by a bunch of dickwads and having them use your power and stuff and maybe if he'd just noticed something in the file... No. Shut up. Not his fault, not his fault. Not like he even cares anyway.
"What about Lindberg?" There may be a tiny hint of growl mixed in there somewhere, but really he's just being efficient in his information gathering. Like how, if Lindberg's alive, Jensen will efficiently go make sure he's not any more. That's totally reasonable, after all, it's Lindberg's fault that Jared got hurt - twice, in fact - and he was involved with those pricks who kidnapped the girl which means it's also his fault that Jensen's got this weird guilty feeling, so he'd be completely justified in doing the world a favor and taking care of that bastard.
Evidently it's a moot point though, because Jared solemnly and somewhat sternly informs him, "Dead."
"Good."
Jared's soundless in response, something like grudging disapproval tickling at the corner of Jensen's mind. Man, he really hopes this shit wears off.
"So, does that mean everybody knows about you now?" he prompts, largely to distract Jared from his - absolutely unfair - condemnation.
Jared squirms, seems to catch himself in the middle of it, and holds still again. Jensen doesn't even need that not-so-subtle tell to know how uncomfortable Jared is. "Yeah. I mean, just the team, but yeah."
"You ok with that?"
"Don't have much choice in the matter."
The hollow sound to that doesn't sit right with Jensen, kneads at something in him insistently until he breaks the silence with the slightly put-on non-chalance of, "Well, you're stuck with me, no matter what, if that makes you feel any better."
Jared snorts disdainfully again, but Jensen can feel the kid’s mouth curving upward against his skin. "I don't know, Jen, I'm starting to think you're more trouble than you're worth," he grumps, knuckling at Jensen's ribs playfully.
"Dude, you saved my life, I'm sticking around whether you like it or not," Jensen ruffles Jared's dirty hair, "Gotta get my revenge."
Jared looks up at him, flash of pink as he sticks his tongue out at Jensen and if it weren't for the way he's mostly trapped under Jared at the moment, he'd totally have that slick little slip in his mouth by now.
Hazel eyes glitter at him from underneath puffy lids, but Jared’s voice doesn’t seem to get the message that they’re trying to go lighthearted with this shit. "Then I guess I don't have much choice in that either," he says from up close, soft like the kiss that Jensen can’t resist leaning in and giving. Jared sighs into it, breathy, almost relieved, and then it turns into a library-whisper of a moan as his lips part and the faintest flicker of tongue touches Jensen’s lips. Just like always, it makes Jensen feel all gooey inside that Jared’s the one deepening it, enticing him open, but it’s different too, in some way he can’t describe and might already be a junkie for.
Slow and languorous, their mouths meet; lick and nip and taste each other just because they’re both here and it feels good and they can. Jared’s hands are hot and right on his skin, no intent but to feel and make Jensen feel and he wants more in the same way he wants it to never end.
"I would have missed you,” he catches himself muttering around Jared’s slick lips, “If I'd died." He has no intention of saying it, but then it’s already said and he can’t really be sure he wants to take it back since it just makes Jared kiss him harder, deeper, tight breaths huffed against his cheek.
"The feeling's mutual," Jared slurs against him, dipping back into Jensen's mouth immediately like the fate of the world depends on him giving Jensen's tonsils a thorough tongue bath. It's kind of brain-melting, like, to the point where he may have forgotten large portions of the English language, not that he really gives a fuck because talking is wildly overrated when there's the possibility of making out with Jared instead.
Fuck, he'd give just about anything to be able to get hard right now and really take advantage of Jared's new-found, if mildly inexplicable, enthusiasm but he has a feeling taking his own catheter out would both A) suck to the point of leaving him curled in a quivering ball of pain in the middle of the bed and B) probably spoil the mood a little. So he takes what he's got and gets the fingers off one hand tangled up in Jared's hair, holding him in place though the kid seems to have no inclination to do anything but keep right on feeding off of Jensen's mouth, maybe forever, while his other hand finds the curve of Jared's ass, encouraging the lazy rock of his hips and the slow glide of his more-than-attentive cock against Jensen's thigh.
The kid doesn't seem to be aiming to get off, his motions too syrup-slow and all over the place to be doing more than teasing the hell out of himself. It's more like he basking in it - in Jensen - rubbing and touching and worshipping just everywhere, everything. He's not even going to lie, it's totally blowing his mind. If he'd known it would get him this kind of reaction, he'd have taken near-death for the win months ago. Jesus.
"Jensen," Jared exhales against his ear like a prayer - and he's really starting to rethink that catheter thing because damn - but Jared's still going, "I-"
Like a side-swipe, it hits him that they're on the brink. The brink of what, he hasn't got a clue, but something; something possibly big and it's giving him that roller coaster, floating-stomach sensation, caught between wanting to leap right over the edge and to hit the brakes as hard as he can. It sputters through his veins, scattershot electric current that sparks and flares at random intervals, lighting up parts of him at random.
Jared might sense it, or else backs off on his own, or maybe just didn't have anything planned for the rest of that sentence and Jensen's subconscious is being a paranoid bitch, but whatever the reason, nothing follows but a moan and the pull of Jared's teeth against his neck, just the right side of pain to send an uncontrollable shiver down Jensen's spine.
Jensen groans, back arching into every inch of contact as Jared muffles him with his mouth. They must both completely fail to notice the sound of the door opening, or else it's a really quiet door because they don't stop the hardcore tongue fuck they've got going until Jeff's voice echoes "Jared," off the walls loud enough to suggest it's not his first attempt at getting their attention. The kid jerks away immediately, sitting up and then crawling off of the bed to a folded pile of clothes on one of the chairs; robbing Jensen of all of that sweet touch he was thriving on. He always knew he didn't like Jeff.
Their leader very studiously watches the wall while Jared slides into a loose pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Jensen thinks might be his own - and damn right he better, Jensen is so not afraid of kicking Jeff's ass if it comes down to him ogling Jay's body; Jensen's got exclusive rights on that property. Once Jared is fully - tragically - clothed, Jeff faces them both, turning a slightly unsteady smile on Jensen.
"The heart monitors showed a spike, I just wanted to make sure you were alright," the older man says, a little apologetically. He doesn't actually look any better off than Jared, sleep-deprived dark eyes and at least a couple of days’ worth of stubble darkening his jaw. Huh, Jensen hadn't given much thought to anybody besides Jared caring that much about what was going on with him and he's not exactly sure what to do with the knowledge now that it’s sitting like a lump in his sex-hungry brain.
Jared's hand settles warm over his own and tension Jensen didn't realize he was holding bleeds out. He wiggles his fingers enough to get a couple of them laced with Jared's, just to make sure he doesn't go anywhere.
"Yep, we're good," Jensen even throws in a thumbs up, hoping that Jeff will recognize it combined with the brevity as the universal sign for 'get lost, jackass, I'm trying to get laid'. Jared squeezes his fingers and shoots him and exasperated look; Jeff just seems amused, in an incredulous sort of way.
"Well good," Jeff intones along with a huff of a laugh that could be either disbelieving or thankful. "I'll go get Samantha, she'll want to give you a once over. You're feeling alright?"
"Yeah, no, fine. Good to go, don't even need the doc," he assures, maybe a little too hastily if the way Jared glares at him when he takes out his IV - like the kid didn't just do the same damn thing not half an hour ago - is anything to go by. What? He was really enjoying their heartfelt reunion, alright, and Jeff's fucking it up.
"Let's just make sure of that, shall we?" Jeff argues, an order disguised as a question. "And I'll get you both some food." This time the stern look is all for Jared and Jensen goes ahead and mirrors it, because seriously, the kid could have at least eaten, Jesus. Overachiever.
Jeff's already half out of the room when Jensen remembers to shout after him, "And get somebody in here to get this thing out of my cock, too!"
The older man pauses, turns back around with one eyebrow high. Jared laughs and nods, "He's back to normal, in case you had doubts."
Jeff chuckles too, shaking his head but smiling that soft, affectionate thing that seems to be the new trend at Jensen when he says, "Good to have you back."
Jared smiles after his mentor for a few seconds after he's gone, shifting his hold on Jensen's fingers until they're interlaced - until they're fucking holding hands like a couple of high school kids at the mall - and Jensen's going to pull away any second now. Any second.
Then the kid's laying back down in the bed, propped up on one elbow with their twined hands resting across Jensen's belly. Oh hey, more kissing - that's way more important than dealing with Jared's girly hand-holding fetish, so he'll just let it go for now.
"It really is, you know; good to have you back. Great to have you back," Jared whispers, far enough into tender, toe-curling kisses that Jensen can only manage a grunt in reply. "And Jensen, just so you know, if you ever pull something idiotic like that again, I swear I'll make you wish you were dead, you ass."
His fingers flex against Jensen's skin, dig in almost possessively, not quite hard enough to mark. The best response Jensen can come up with is a moan.
On to Part 7b