leave my heart out of this (timestamp)
Title: Be Here
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG maybe?
Word Count: 2450
Disclaimer: I can only fantasize that this is really going on. Alas, it's not. Unless it is, and if so, I want photographic evidence, dammit!
Summary: AU. Jensen's hurting, and Jared has no idea how to make it better.
A/N 1: Part of Leave My Heart out of This, set a couple months before the original story. It would probably help to read that first.
A/N 2: This is for ms_soma , who was feeling sick awhile ago. I tried to finish this sooner but got distracted. :D Hope you're feeling better now, sweetie. <3
A/N 3: This is pretty much self-indulgent h/c with a side order of outside POV at the end. There is angst, as it deals with the character death that kicks off the original story.
another timestamp
Jared startles as Mallory’s voice crackles over the intercom. He’s been elbow deep in boring paperwork all morning and isn’t expecting to get forced out of the zone.
“Sir, Jensen just arrived. He’s heading to the backroom.”
“Thanks, Mallory. I’ll be out in a moment.” As soon as he finishes going over this report.
“He looks upset, sir,” she adds hesitantly, her voice hushed.
That definitely changes everything. “I’m coming,” he tells her and hurries out of his office.
Jensen’s already in the backroom when Jared gets there, standing slump-shouldered in front of a set of cages, poking a finger through the bars for a kitten to sniff. He’s wearing track pants and a wrinkled t-shirt, and his hair doesn’t seem to have any gel in it, since it’s sticking up all over his head in random clumps. Jared’s stomach plummets. This is not the put-together Jensen he’s used to.
“Jen?” he says quietly, approaching slowly. Jensen glances over his shoulder, and Jared’s breath catches. He looks wrecked, absolutely wrecked- eyes red and swollen, skin pale and blotchy. “Jen? What’s wrong? Are you all right? What happened?”
“My grandfather died this morning. Robert. It was a heart attack,” he answers, voice unnaturally calm, though scratchy with unshed tears. He sounds worse than he looks, which is unbelievably bad.
“Oh, Jen. I’m so sorry.” He reaches out to squeeze Jensen’s shoulder, and Jensen’s strange calm shatters. He turns in to Jared, burying his face against Jared’s neck and desperately clinging to the front of his shirt. Jared wraps his arms around him, trying to soothe him with gentle words and hands. Breathing heavily, Jensen trembles and shivers in his arms, not crying, but this is somehow worse. As if his grief is so great, he can’t release the emotions properly. Jared hates this, hates when Jensen is hurt, especially when he can’t do anything to take away the pain. Seeing Jensen upset always hurts Jared just as much.
After several minutes, Jensen’s trembling eases, his breathing evening out to a more normal rate. He holds onto Jared for another moment, then steps back and wipes a shaky hand over his face.
“Are you all right?” Jared asks softly, cupping a hand around Jensen’s jaw. Jensen moves his head in a complicated mix of yes and no. He stands hunched over, like everything hurts too much to be upright and not curled in a ball on the floor, and it sends a stab of pain through Jared’s heart. He blinks back his own tears. “Can I do anything? Do you want anything?”
“Can you take me home?” Jensen lifts his head slightly, and the loss and sorrow in his eyes kills Jared.
“Of course. Let me tell Mallory and clear up a few things in the office, and then we’ll go.”
Jensen nods and wraps his arms around himself, looking so small and fragile. Jared quickly gathers some paperwork to bring with him and asks Mallory to call if something urgent happens, then takes Jensen home. Once they get to Jensen’s apartment, Jared switches to hovering mother hen mode, but Jensen refuses any food or drink. Instead, he goes to bed, huddling under the covers and staring despondently at the wall. Jared stays in the doorway watching him for awhile, wishing he could do something besides stand here helplessly.
He goes into the living room to get some work done, though he accomplishes little, since he’s too worried about Jensen. And hurting as well. They’ve always been close to each other’s families, and losing Robert is like losing his own grandfather. But he won’t let Jensen see him cry. It’s not what he needs right now.
A couple hours later, he’s flipping listlessly through the TV channels when Jensen’s phone starts ringing. He recognizes the number right away and answers before the noise can disturb Jensen. “Hey, Josh. It’s Jared.”
“Jared. Hi. I kinda hoped he’d go to you when he left the hospital. How’s he doing?”
“Not very well,” he says truthfully. He’s sure Josh knows that already. “He’s sleeping right now.” Thank God. Even Jensen’s restless sleep has got to be good for him. Jared gets up to check on him, glad to find him still sleeping. “I don’t want to wake him.”
“Right. No. Can you just give him a message? We’re still working out all the details, but the calling hours should be Thursday night with the funeral service the following morning. I’ll let you know the actual times or if anything changes.”
“I’ll tell him when he wakes up.” They chat for a few more minutes, mostly random small talk, until Josh receives another call.
“It’s Dad. I should get this.”
“Of course. Josh? I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
“Thank you, Jared. I’ll keep in touch.”
Jared hangs up, then crosses into Jensen’s room to sit gingerly on the bed so he won’t disturb Jensen. He doesn’t stir at all, and Jared shifts to lie down beside him. Jensen must sense his presence, though, because he rolls closer to Jared without waking, as if seeking his warmth. Jared runs his fingers through Jensen’s messy hair, and Jensen settles. Closing his eyes, Jared pushes down this helpless feeling and falls asleep.
Jared stays that night and the next couple as well. He has to go into work for a few hours during the day, which he hates, being away from Jensen like that when Jensen needs him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s no question about him going to the calling hours or funeral, however. There’s no way he’d let Jensen go through that alone. Jensen spends most of those days in an unmoving, hazy state, not eating unless Jared forces him to and sleeping more often than not. Jared’s worried about him, about what will happen when Jensen finally breaks down and lets himself really feel Robert’s passing.
Jensen’s quiet through most of the funeral, more so than usual. It’s like he’s withdrawn into himself, and Jared’s concern ratchets up a few degrees. The only time his stoic mask cracks a little is during the eulogy he gives, which reduces pretty much the whole room into tears, including Jared. After, they go to the Knights of Columbus hall for the memorial. They trade amusing stories about Robert and eat and just generally celebrate his life. It’s what he would’ve wanted, rather than everyone being sad. The laughter and food do a lot to ease Jared’s heartbreak, and seeing Jensen interact with his family helps even more. Jared loses track of him after awhile and doesn’t panic like he would’ve a couple hours ago at not having Jensen within eyesight.
He’s making a plate for Grandma Ackles when he realizes Jensen isn’t even in the room anymore. He’s been trying to get her to sit down and stop taking care of everybody else for nearly 20 minutes now, and she finally agreed. He gives her the plate and kisses her cheek, then leaves to look for Jensen. It doesn’t take long. There aren’t many places he can hide. He finds him outside on the balcony of the stairs leading to the parking lot. The sounds of children playing drift over, but most of Jared’s concentration is on Jensen. He’s leaning on the railing, hands clasped and head bowed, and Jared’s heart breaks all over again.
“Hey,” he murmurs. Jensen doesn’t seem surprised to see him. He shuffles over slightly to make room for Jared but remains quiet. “I wish you’d talk to me,” he says, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. He’s worried and doesn’t know what to do and he just wants Jensen to stop hurting so much.
“Nothing to say.”
Jared hears the unspoken quit pushing me loud and clear. He can do that. He’ll wait as long as necessary for Jensen to open up to him. He always does, eventually. They stand there together for a long time. Jared gets used to the silence and struggles to hide his shock when Jensen finally speaks up.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he begins, sounding rough and rung out. “We’d been there most of the night while he was in surgery, and they wouldn’t let us in to see him till early morning, around 5 a.m. or something. I was so exhausted and hungry and probably a little delirious by then. It was obvious he wasn’t gonna make it. He was…waxy and just, mostly gone already, I guess. I left to go to the restroom and get some air. While I was gone, he woke up for a few minutes. I’d snuck out, so no one knew where I was. They all got to talk to him and say goodbye, but I didn’t, and I feel so fucking guilty about it. I wasn’t there with him at the end and-” He trails off and rubs a hand over his face.
Jared remains still during Jensen’s entire story, his heart beating painfully in his chest and tears gathering in his eyes. “Jensen, he knew you loved him, he knew you were in that room with him. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I know that, but I can’t help it.”
“Jensen-”
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” he whispers, and suddenly everything about him sort of crumples. Jared catches him, sliding his arms around Jensen’s waist and gathering him in close. Jensen cries into his chest, whole body shaking with the force of his sobs. It’s almost frightening in its intensity, and Jared can only stand there while Jensen hangs onto him tightly. It takes a long time for Jensen to get it all out, but he eventually pulls back a bit, though not very far.
“Thank you,” he says unsteadily.
“No problem. What I’m here for.” He fishes a crushed up tissue out of his pocket for Jensen. His adorably crinkled frown and tiny, wry smile give Jared goose bumps. It’s more emotion than he’s seen from Jensen in days. “ I know I keep asking this, but is there anything I can do?”
Jensen blows out a deep breath and shudders. “Just don’t go. Be here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Jen. I promise.”
As Jensen nods, Jared wraps his arms around him and holds him close. And doesn’t let go.
Meanwhile
Donna watches the kids clamor all over the playground equipment, grateful there’s a place for them to play near the Knights hall. She’s not sure how she ended up the official babysitter, but she doesn’t especially mind. It’s nice to get out of that stuffy room and outside for a bit. Though she loves her in-laws, they can be overwhelming at times. One of the kids squeals happily as she plummets down the slide and lands on her butt, jumping up immediately to do it all over again. She envies their innocence, aches for her own children’s loss of innocence. They shouldn’t have to go through something like this. They should never know this kind of pain.
She loves her children equally of course, but she worries about Jensen more than the others. Josh and Mackenzie appear to have things together and to like the direction of their lives, but Jensen often seems restless and lost. So, yes, she worries about him. She’s only ever wanted her children to be happy, and Jensen isn’t happy. And he won’t let her in enough to find out why or how to help.
She hears the back door of the hall open and looks over to find Jensen stepping out onto the small balcony on top of the stairs. He leans on the rail, shoulders slumped and tension evident in every line of his body. He’s taking Robert’s death pretty hard, and she hates to see him hurting like that. A few minutes later, Jared joins him, and her own tension eases a bit. Jared’s a good boy, a good friend to Jensen. He’ll take care of Jensen for her, since her son feels like he’s too old to seek comfort from his mom.
“Aunt Donna?”
She looks down at the tiny hand tugging on the hem of her blouse and smiles. “What is it, Sophie?”
“Can you push me on the swing, Aunt Donna?” Sophie asks eagerly. Her cheeks are flushed slightly, from the wind or the exertion of playing, and her wild blonde hair is even wilder than normal.
“Of course, sweetie. Hop on.”
Donna pushes Sophie for several minutes, keeping an eye on the other kids at the same time. Sophie giggles on every upswing, and Donna doesn’t have the heart to stop, even after her arms grow sore. She glances back at Jensen and Jared sometimes, and her heart clenches painfully when she notices Jensen crying. She can see him shaking in Jared’s arms from here. It’s good in a way. She knows, from talking to Jared earlier, that he hasn’t cried since that night at the hospital, and he couldn’t keep it bottled up for long. Jensen’s always been strong, the one that stood up for his friends and family, that cares for those less fortunate. She’s glad he has Jared to be strong for him when he’s feeling vulnerable. They have such an amazing bond, something that goes beyond best friends.
Footsteps crunch through gravel of the parking lot behind her, and Donna smiles as her daughter-in-law walks up to stand beside her, Logan curled up in her arms.
“Hey, I’m gonna take him home,” Sara says. She shifts Logan onto her other hip.
“Poor baby,” Donna murmurs, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead as a cover to check for fever. Thankfully, he’s still cool. He has a cold, been miserable with the cough and runny nose for days now, and looks like he really needs a nap. “You feel better soon, okay?” she tells him, and he nods weakly, curling more into Sara’s chest and sucking on his thumb.
“Let me know if you guys need anything.”
“I will, Sara. Thank you.” She’s been a big help the last few days, lending a hand with organizing the funeral services and those details they were all too upset to think about.
Sara turns to go, but pauses, catching sight of Jensen and Jared. Wrinkling her nose, she sighs. “Do you think those two will ever stop being idiots and figure things out?”
Donna looks at her sharply. She didn’t think anyone else had noticed how the boys really felt about each other, except perhaps Sharon. It’s nice to get some validation for her observations, to know she’s not seeing things that don’t exist.
“I hope so,” she answers. “I really hope so.”
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG maybe?
Word Count: 2450
Disclaimer: I can only fantasize that this is really going on. Alas, it's not. Unless it is, and if so, I want photographic evidence, dammit!
Summary: AU. Jensen's hurting, and Jared has no idea how to make it better.
A/N 1: Part of Leave My Heart out of This, set a couple months before the original story. It would probably help to read that first.
A/N 2: This is for ms_soma , who was feeling sick awhile ago. I tried to finish this sooner but got distracted. :D Hope you're feeling better now, sweetie. <3
A/N 3: This is pretty much self-indulgent h/c with a side order of outside POV at the end. There is angst, as it deals with the character death that kicks off the original story.
another timestamp
Jared startles as Mallory’s voice crackles over the intercom. He’s been elbow deep in boring paperwork all morning and isn’t expecting to get forced out of the zone.
“Sir, Jensen just arrived. He’s heading to the backroom.”
“Thanks, Mallory. I’ll be out in a moment.” As soon as he finishes going over this report.
“He looks upset, sir,” she adds hesitantly, her voice hushed.
That definitely changes everything. “I’m coming,” he tells her and hurries out of his office.
Jensen’s already in the backroom when Jared gets there, standing slump-shouldered in front of a set of cages, poking a finger through the bars for a kitten to sniff. He’s wearing track pants and a wrinkled t-shirt, and his hair doesn’t seem to have any gel in it, since it’s sticking up all over his head in random clumps. Jared’s stomach plummets. This is not the put-together Jensen he’s used to.
“Jen?” he says quietly, approaching slowly. Jensen glances over his shoulder, and Jared’s breath catches. He looks wrecked, absolutely wrecked- eyes red and swollen, skin pale and blotchy. “Jen? What’s wrong? Are you all right? What happened?”
“My grandfather died this morning. Robert. It was a heart attack,” he answers, voice unnaturally calm, though scratchy with unshed tears. He sounds worse than he looks, which is unbelievably bad.
“Oh, Jen. I’m so sorry.” He reaches out to squeeze Jensen’s shoulder, and Jensen’s strange calm shatters. He turns in to Jared, burying his face against Jared’s neck and desperately clinging to the front of his shirt. Jared wraps his arms around him, trying to soothe him with gentle words and hands. Breathing heavily, Jensen trembles and shivers in his arms, not crying, but this is somehow worse. As if his grief is so great, he can’t release the emotions properly. Jared hates this, hates when Jensen is hurt, especially when he can’t do anything to take away the pain. Seeing Jensen upset always hurts Jared just as much.
After several minutes, Jensen’s trembling eases, his breathing evening out to a more normal rate. He holds onto Jared for another moment, then steps back and wipes a shaky hand over his face.
“Are you all right?” Jared asks softly, cupping a hand around Jensen’s jaw. Jensen moves his head in a complicated mix of yes and no. He stands hunched over, like everything hurts too much to be upright and not curled in a ball on the floor, and it sends a stab of pain through Jared’s heart. He blinks back his own tears. “Can I do anything? Do you want anything?”
“Can you take me home?” Jensen lifts his head slightly, and the loss and sorrow in his eyes kills Jared.
“Of course. Let me tell Mallory and clear up a few things in the office, and then we’ll go.”
Jensen nods and wraps his arms around himself, looking so small and fragile. Jared quickly gathers some paperwork to bring with him and asks Mallory to call if something urgent happens, then takes Jensen home. Once they get to Jensen’s apartment, Jared switches to hovering mother hen mode, but Jensen refuses any food or drink. Instead, he goes to bed, huddling under the covers and staring despondently at the wall. Jared stays in the doorway watching him for awhile, wishing he could do something besides stand here helplessly.
He goes into the living room to get some work done, though he accomplishes little, since he’s too worried about Jensen. And hurting as well. They’ve always been close to each other’s families, and losing Robert is like losing his own grandfather. But he won’t let Jensen see him cry. It’s not what he needs right now.
A couple hours later, he’s flipping listlessly through the TV channels when Jensen’s phone starts ringing. He recognizes the number right away and answers before the noise can disturb Jensen. “Hey, Josh. It’s Jared.”
“Jared. Hi. I kinda hoped he’d go to you when he left the hospital. How’s he doing?”
“Not very well,” he says truthfully. He’s sure Josh knows that already. “He’s sleeping right now.” Thank God. Even Jensen’s restless sleep has got to be good for him. Jared gets up to check on him, glad to find him still sleeping. “I don’t want to wake him.”
“Right. No. Can you just give him a message? We’re still working out all the details, but the calling hours should be Thursday night with the funeral service the following morning. I’ll let you know the actual times or if anything changes.”
“I’ll tell him when he wakes up.” They chat for a few more minutes, mostly random small talk, until Josh receives another call.
“It’s Dad. I should get this.”
“Of course. Josh? I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
“Thank you, Jared. I’ll keep in touch.”
Jared hangs up, then crosses into Jensen’s room to sit gingerly on the bed so he won’t disturb Jensen. He doesn’t stir at all, and Jared shifts to lie down beside him. Jensen must sense his presence, though, because he rolls closer to Jared without waking, as if seeking his warmth. Jared runs his fingers through Jensen’s messy hair, and Jensen settles. Closing his eyes, Jared pushes down this helpless feeling and falls asleep.
Jared stays that night and the next couple as well. He has to go into work for a few hours during the day, which he hates, being away from Jensen like that when Jensen needs him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s no question about him going to the calling hours or funeral, however. There’s no way he’d let Jensen go through that alone. Jensen spends most of those days in an unmoving, hazy state, not eating unless Jared forces him to and sleeping more often than not. Jared’s worried about him, about what will happen when Jensen finally breaks down and lets himself really feel Robert’s passing.
Jensen’s quiet through most of the funeral, more so than usual. It’s like he’s withdrawn into himself, and Jared’s concern ratchets up a few degrees. The only time his stoic mask cracks a little is during the eulogy he gives, which reduces pretty much the whole room into tears, including Jared. After, they go to the Knights of Columbus hall for the memorial. They trade amusing stories about Robert and eat and just generally celebrate his life. It’s what he would’ve wanted, rather than everyone being sad. The laughter and food do a lot to ease Jared’s heartbreak, and seeing Jensen interact with his family helps even more. Jared loses track of him after awhile and doesn’t panic like he would’ve a couple hours ago at not having Jensen within eyesight.
He’s making a plate for Grandma Ackles when he realizes Jensen isn’t even in the room anymore. He’s been trying to get her to sit down and stop taking care of everybody else for nearly 20 minutes now, and she finally agreed. He gives her the plate and kisses her cheek, then leaves to look for Jensen. It doesn’t take long. There aren’t many places he can hide. He finds him outside on the balcony of the stairs leading to the parking lot. The sounds of children playing drift over, but most of Jared’s concentration is on Jensen. He’s leaning on the railing, hands clasped and head bowed, and Jared’s heart breaks all over again.
“Hey,” he murmurs. Jensen doesn’t seem surprised to see him. He shuffles over slightly to make room for Jared but remains quiet. “I wish you’d talk to me,” he says, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. He’s worried and doesn’t know what to do and he just wants Jensen to stop hurting so much.
“Nothing to say.”
Jared hears the unspoken quit pushing me loud and clear. He can do that. He’ll wait as long as necessary for Jensen to open up to him. He always does, eventually. They stand there together for a long time. Jared gets used to the silence and struggles to hide his shock when Jensen finally speaks up.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he begins, sounding rough and rung out. “We’d been there most of the night while he was in surgery, and they wouldn’t let us in to see him till early morning, around 5 a.m. or something. I was so exhausted and hungry and probably a little delirious by then. It was obvious he wasn’t gonna make it. He was…waxy and just, mostly gone already, I guess. I left to go to the restroom and get some air. While I was gone, he woke up for a few minutes. I’d snuck out, so no one knew where I was. They all got to talk to him and say goodbye, but I didn’t, and I feel so fucking guilty about it. I wasn’t there with him at the end and-” He trails off and rubs a hand over his face.
Jared remains still during Jensen’s entire story, his heart beating painfully in his chest and tears gathering in his eyes. “Jensen, he knew you loved him, he knew you were in that room with him. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I know that, but I can’t help it.”
“Jensen-”
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” he whispers, and suddenly everything about him sort of crumples. Jared catches him, sliding his arms around Jensen’s waist and gathering him in close. Jensen cries into his chest, whole body shaking with the force of his sobs. It’s almost frightening in its intensity, and Jared can only stand there while Jensen hangs onto him tightly. It takes a long time for Jensen to get it all out, but he eventually pulls back a bit, though not very far.
“Thank you,” he says unsteadily.
“No problem. What I’m here for.” He fishes a crushed up tissue out of his pocket for Jensen. His adorably crinkled frown and tiny, wry smile give Jared goose bumps. It’s more emotion than he’s seen from Jensen in days. “ I know I keep asking this, but is there anything I can do?”
Jensen blows out a deep breath and shudders. “Just don’t go. Be here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Jen. I promise.”
As Jensen nods, Jared wraps his arms around him and holds him close. And doesn’t let go.
Meanwhile
Donna watches the kids clamor all over the playground equipment, grateful there’s a place for them to play near the Knights hall. She’s not sure how she ended up the official babysitter, but she doesn’t especially mind. It’s nice to get out of that stuffy room and outside for a bit. Though she loves her in-laws, they can be overwhelming at times. One of the kids squeals happily as she plummets down the slide and lands on her butt, jumping up immediately to do it all over again. She envies their innocence, aches for her own children’s loss of innocence. They shouldn’t have to go through something like this. They should never know this kind of pain.
She loves her children equally of course, but she worries about Jensen more than the others. Josh and Mackenzie appear to have things together and to like the direction of their lives, but Jensen often seems restless and lost. So, yes, she worries about him. She’s only ever wanted her children to be happy, and Jensen isn’t happy. And he won’t let her in enough to find out why or how to help.
She hears the back door of the hall open and looks over to find Jensen stepping out onto the small balcony on top of the stairs. He leans on the rail, shoulders slumped and tension evident in every line of his body. He’s taking Robert’s death pretty hard, and she hates to see him hurting like that. A few minutes later, Jared joins him, and her own tension eases a bit. Jared’s a good boy, a good friend to Jensen. He’ll take care of Jensen for her, since her son feels like he’s too old to seek comfort from his mom.
“Aunt Donna?”
She looks down at the tiny hand tugging on the hem of her blouse and smiles. “What is it, Sophie?”
“Can you push me on the swing, Aunt Donna?” Sophie asks eagerly. Her cheeks are flushed slightly, from the wind or the exertion of playing, and her wild blonde hair is even wilder than normal.
“Of course, sweetie. Hop on.”
Donna pushes Sophie for several minutes, keeping an eye on the other kids at the same time. Sophie giggles on every upswing, and Donna doesn’t have the heart to stop, even after her arms grow sore. She glances back at Jensen and Jared sometimes, and her heart clenches painfully when she notices Jensen crying. She can see him shaking in Jared’s arms from here. It’s good in a way. She knows, from talking to Jared earlier, that he hasn’t cried since that night at the hospital, and he couldn’t keep it bottled up for long. Jensen’s always been strong, the one that stood up for his friends and family, that cares for those less fortunate. She’s glad he has Jared to be strong for him when he’s feeling vulnerable. They have such an amazing bond, something that goes beyond best friends.
Footsteps crunch through gravel of the parking lot behind her, and Donna smiles as her daughter-in-law walks up to stand beside her, Logan curled up in her arms.
“Hey, I’m gonna take him home,” Sara says. She shifts Logan onto her other hip.
“Poor baby,” Donna murmurs, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead as a cover to check for fever. Thankfully, he’s still cool. He has a cold, been miserable with the cough and runny nose for days now, and looks like he really needs a nap. “You feel better soon, okay?” she tells him, and he nods weakly, curling more into Sara’s chest and sucking on his thumb.
“Let me know if you guys need anything.”
“I will, Sara. Thank you.” She’s been a big help the last few days, lending a hand with organizing the funeral services and those details they were all too upset to think about.
Sara turns to go, but pauses, catching sight of Jensen and Jared. Wrinkling her nose, she sighs. “Do you think those two will ever stop being idiots and figure things out?”
Donna looks at her sharply. She didn’t think anyone else had noticed how the boys really felt about each other, except perhaps Sharon. It’s nice to get some validation for her observations, to know she’s not seeing things that don’t exist.
“I hope so,” she answers. “I really hope so.”