Beginning with You, Ending with Me (Part 1/3) Complete
Title: Beginning with You, Ending with Me
Author: dontmembersam
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: Approximately 13,000 altogether, but 5,000 this part.
Rating: Bare NC-17 for harsh language and explicit boy loving - singly and together.
Disclaimer: Jared and Jensen belong to themselves and the inspiration, Watcher in the Woods belongs to Disney. No one is making any profit from this whatsoever.
Notes: This is not a work in progress. I did manage to completely finish writing it - just not editing it. That pesky thing called real life would just not go away. As soon as I finish work tonight, I will finish with the final horror (punctuation errors - ugh!!!) and the last half will be posted by Monday. Thanks to the mods for not killing me (I hope) for being half late.
Written for j2_everafter
Summary: Jared needs to recover from a nasty fall and the accompanying head injury and doing so in a remote small town miles from anywhere seems just the ticket. Then things start to happen and Jared begins to wonder if he made the right decision or if he’s maybe still just a little insane.
Bing, New Hampshire - population, 526.
The sign glided by, or rather stayed put as Jared drove by, but it might as well have been tattooed on his eyeballs to follow him down the street. Okay, there was a mixed metaphor for you. Laughing out loud in sheer joy, Jared mentally added one more to the tally. 527 and home.
He was so ready for this, despite his family’s dire predictions of its inevitable outcome. The freedom of no more tests, no more monitoring - he threw his head back, whooping at the thought - no more well-meaning people hovering at his shoulder just waiting to scream, “Commitment!” at the first sign of relapse.
No, his mind was fine. He just needed a place to finish healing the rest of his body. Just a little room and maybe a little bit of love. But he’d worry about that later. Jared smiled as he stared at his future stretching so far in front of him. Time was a gift he was never going to take for granted again. Doing his best to damp the excitement down enough to avoid making his first meeting with the locals a speeding ticket, Jared slowed as he turned onto the main street, looking for the address he’d been given. There it was.
Responding to a friendly wave from an older man sweeping his steps, Jared pulled into the only open parking space in front of the general store. He was heading for the diner - which sat directly beneath a sign advertising the best blueberry pie in the northeast, but unfortunately next door was apparently as close as he was going to get to it. Lunchtime around here must be pretty early if the crowd was any indication. He kicked the car door open and stepped out, shaking his head as he looked around. It really did feel like he’d stepped into Mayberry. Perfect.
Planting his hands on the middle of his back, Jared arched it, twisting to work the kinks loose. Five hours of virtually non-stop driving was no one’s idea of joy, but he’d been so anxious to see his new place that he couldn’t bear to waste a second getting there. Taking a steadying breath, he grabbed his bag off the front seat and took that first step towards his new life.
Twenty minutes later, he was back in the car and headed for Sorrow Fall Cottage. That was actually news to him, but too busy trying to balance the sandwiches, thermos, and the blueberry pie his real estate agent slash diner owner had thrust on him along with the keys, Jared had never gotten the chance to ask about the name. Oh, well, ominous or not, Sorrow Fall was waiting.
******
His fingers swirled along the table, caressing the nicks and cuts decorating its blackened wood. Dust moats that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries sparkled and disappeared as they floated in and out of the streams of sunlight that somehow found a way past the boards across the windows. Like him. Doing it’s own imitation, the spirit floated towards the parlor and sank to the floor in front of the fireplace.
Jared was on his way, catching his first sight of the place in glimpses, short flashes through the trees bracing the verge. Sharp angles and curlicued overhangs teased him. Even the crawling ivy drawing shadows over the faded paint didn’t scare him. Before he’d idled the car to a complete stop, he was already in love. From the steeply-gabled roof spilling grey shingles into the overgrown yard to the non-existent porch rails to the warped plywood covering all the windows, it was a mess and he absolutely loved it.
Images flashed. He knew they should have been attached to memories, but no matter how hard he tried or how often, they never were. Absorbed in the familiar struggle for recall, it took long moments for the sound of tires rolling over gravel to register as such and then scant seconds for the urge to flee to take control. He fought it. This was his home and his responsibility. Rushing the door, he focused his essence on the rusty knob, determined to keep the stranger out. And then he saw him.
The man who stepped out of the car was compelling. Beautiful, even. Bright hazel eyes peeked through as a breeze ruffled the tangled, brown fringe hanging low across his forehead. The self-deprecating smile that twisted his lips as he bumped the door closed with his hip and made his way across the yard caused those dimples to deepen, lending the solemn face a quirky joy. He backed farther against the wall, strangely reluctant to lose sight of him, despite the danger of being seen.
As he catalogued the problems, Jared was already making a mental list of what he would need to fix them. He had the tools; just needed to hit the hardware store he’d seen on the corner and he’d be good to go. Turning back to the car with a grin, Jared patted his shoulder, congratulating himself on finding the perfect place to heal. The work would keep him busy and, judging by the countryside he’d jut driven through, there was a ton of exercise to keep him healthy. Digging in, he stacked a couple smaller boxes on top of his suitcase, grabbed the food from the diner, and shut the car door with a nudge of his hip.
Stepping over the shaky stairs - creaky steps, job one - Jared all but performed his second juggling act of the day as he tried to fit the key into the lock, finally giving up entirely the fifth time it seemed to slip, turn, and then stick solid. It was almost like something had hold of the knob from the other side.
“Yeah, that’s not crazy.” Jared laughed, even if it did sound a bit strained, as he dropped his bags on the porch swing. Hell, he figured, it wasn’t like everything was going to settle down all at once. He’d get there. “She must’ve given me the wrong key, is all.”
“Chill, Padalecki, no hurry. I’ll just have to find a basement window or something.” As he turned to search, Jared caught movement from the corner of his eye. The door was swinging wide, the gap growing almost imperceptivity, but there.
“Okay, that’s not at all weird.” But, hell, he wasn’t about to kick a gift horse in the teeth. Taking a deep breath, Jared stepped over the threshold and into his new life. “It all starts today.”
******
What had he done? What did he do? Oh, Goddess, what had he just done? He’d let the man in the cottage. He was in the cottage and now it was too late to take it back. What if he started digging? If he found…No! He wouldn’t let him get hurt - he wasn’t helpless. Not anymore, and no one else would die because of his failure.
Decided, he flew, not slowing until he could sense the partners. He waved shakily, making contact more for courage than need. If it all went south, he could still come back. They’d always take him back. Okay, then, a final prayer and he concentrated on finding his tree, the only one who’d never refused him. Soon, or rather too soon, he saw it, nestled near the lake bed, boughs drifting gently in the still water. Peace.
He floated down to rest his forehead against the stripped bark, waiting. Non-voices filled his mind, not asking questions, but offering what reassurances it could. Yes, he could come back. Yes, it would help as well as it was able. Soothed as much as the time allowed, he gathered the few memories he still held, strengthening as they began to coalesce. The threads of what it once was added to the strain on its soul, feeling as if it were being peeled bit by bit from the whole.
Gritting his teeth against the pain; he’d forgotten how badly it hurt to leave. He bit back the scream building in his throat, vowing it was worth it. Doubling over, he struggled against the draw, silently calling for help, for an end to the release. What he got instead were warm hands, one on his back and the other sliding under his chest to steady. Dark and wrinkled, they supported him as he sank to the ground, buried under the reasonless torture.
“Your name is Jensen, kid, Jensen Ackles.” That was what he needed to pull it all together. His name was Jensen and the pain racking his body wasn’t reasonless. And it wasn’t forever and it was so undeserved that the injustice of it was enough to snap his soul free in a sudden rush. He gasped, frantically trying to draw air into lungs that didn’t exist.
“Easy, easy. You’re still spirit. You don’t need to breathe. Just stay calm.” Leaning into the soothing touch, Jensen slowly adjusted to being separate. It still hurt, but was becoming manageable until the voice spoke again. “Damn, boy, what have you done?” Quiet pain filled the creaky words. “You know this can’t end well.”
Jensen hunched into himself, the knowledge that his friend was so right folding his body back into the mud. It never could. What had he done? Still, he knew he’d had no choice. “I had to, Graf. I mean…I just…when he talked about climbing into the cellar, I just had to stop him.”
“Jensen…?”
“I panicked. It was like it all happened again, only with the stranger’s face and my…my hand just let go. What can I do? How can I keep him safe?”
“I don’t know, boy, I didn’t then and I…I just don’t know.”
Although those weren’t the words Jensen wanted to hear, they did firm his resolve. If it was up to him, then so be it. It didn’t matter what he had to do, he’d do it. He wouldn’t kill anyone else.
******
Some 32 hours later, Jared rolled his head and leaned back, his ass against the counter and hands wrapped around the mug like it was the most important thing in existence, which, if the weather around here in May was any indication, it well might be. Hot coffee. The wellspring of life.
Grinning as he stared out the kitchen window, Jared did a mental survey of all he had managed to accomplish today, well, yesterday and some of today. It may have only been the tip of the iceberg, but the dust was gone (even the odd patterns scattered throughout the place), the kitchen polished and bright, and the bed was fluffed and waiting.
Well satisfied with the list, he tipped the last of his brew down the drain, swishing the dregs away before setting the cup aside. Speaking of bed, it was past time for a good, long lie-in and those flannel sheets his sister had sent along were calling for him.
Just before he left the kitchen Jared scrawled a quick note and taped it to the fridge. He didn’t want to forget to call and ask the agent if she’d given him all the keys because he still couldn’t get into a couple of the rooms upstairs. The attic, especially, was calling his name - Jared cursed softly as his bumped the ceiling for at least the tenth time since he’d arrived three days ago - after he found some kind of protective head gear.
He loved the old place, he did, but he’d forgotten just how small people were in the days it had been built. The library and kitchen were the only rooms in the house where he could actually straighten up completely. And he swore every time he climbed the stairs he was taking his life into his hands - or at the very least the stability of his brain pan.
Still, it was worth a little pain if it meant walking through a door that was his, into a house that was his, and so on and so on. He was ready for this, even if Mama thought it was too soon too be out on his own. The headaches were becoming less frequent now and the flashbacks even rarer. He was going to be okay.
Snapping the final light out, Jared repeated the last line to himself; ignoring the feeling he’d been having all day- the feeling of being watched. It wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t crazy anymore. He was just lonely, that’s all. Not crazy. Not. Besides, it was almost comforting in a way, though Jared was damned if he knew why.
Standing in the shadows, Jensen watched as the man strode from room to room, wincing with him as he collided with various surfaces, until disappearing for moments behind the walls, he became nothing but passing shadows as he flicked lights off one after the other. He watched him stride across the library, stopping once in the hall to run his fingers over the photograph he’d hung there earlier, the sad expression that was already too familiar taking on a momentary confusion before he adjusted the frame and moved on.
It was an image of him and two men who looked much like the stranger. Jensen had spun the frame to read; Jeff, Jared, and Dad - 2002. He wasn’t sure, but the man looked like a Jared so that was how he chose to think of him. He watched, his own face wistful, as Jared hunched his broad back in order to fit under the stair eave. He watched. For now, it was all he could do.
Waiting for the man to clear the hall, Jensen followed, folding his body into the far corner of the bedroom, compressing his being, hiding in the darkness as the Jared grabbed the bedclothes, throwing them back before he reached down to tug his t-shirt hem over his head. Jensen sucked in a quick breath when Jared started in on his jeans, working the top button loose and then ripping the rest free in one sharp tug. As each metal bob came free the placket gaped wider until Jensen could see the thick base of Jared’s cock.
Jensen’s tongue snaked out, curling over to wet his lower lip. He could almost taste the fluid he knew had to be gracing the head still hidden from his view, could almost feel how the dark, wiry curls would get tangled around his tongue. Then Jared shoved his jeans down, boxers traveling with them to hit the floor, and stood tall exposed in all his naked glory. And it was glorious, especially to a man spirit who hadn’t seen such for decades.
It was also maddening not being able to touch. His fingers ached to reach out, but he knew all too well what that brought. Suddenly too painful and like that Jared was gone. Jensen was left on the outside looking in - as usual - only this time he knew why. Concentrating, he phased back, settling as near as he could without chilling the air too much. It was going to be another long night.
*****
Part B is here: http://dontmembersam.livejournal.com/31259.html