The Rise and Fall... Chapter 12
A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue.<3
Chapter 12
Within you
Steve’s face is the first one to appear on the computer screen. He smiles and nods. “Hey, Jay.”
“Can you see me?”
“Gotta say, you look like shit.”
“Geez, thanks.”
Jensen drags another puff from his cigarette and can’t help but smile when he sees the way Steve’s eyes get all dreamy. He used to be a smoker too.
“Okay, that looks like the best freaking cigarette in the whole world,” he sighs.
Suddenly, there’s a blur on the screen as Steve is pushed out of the way. “Told you to get it settled. Now, it’s settled,” Chris grunts as he sits in what used to be Steve’s chair.
“You’re a freaking jerk,” Steve says from the background.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Bye, Jensen! Hang in there, man.”
“Yeah, bye Steve.”
Jensen clears his throat and sits back on the couch. It’s still early in the morning and he had barely slept four hours last night. The most irritating thing is, on top the acrid taste in his mouth and the itching sensation in his eyes, he’s going to need a freaking nap later if he wants to keep his epilepsy under control. He and Christian had talked on the phone until late in the night, but his friend had insisted on seeing him on Skype before he would continue with the conversation. Jensen knows it’s because Chris has been worried about him and wanted to see that he was okay with his own eyes.
“You do look like shit,” Christian states. “And what’s with the smoking?”
“Who are you? My mom?” Jensen snaps, but he does put the cigarette in the empty glass he uses as an ashtray.
“Seriously, Jay.”
Chris himself doesn’t look that well. He has a beard that must be at least two weeks old, his hair is tied roughly in one of those strange fuzzy buns he likes so much and there are purple shadows under his eyes. Jensen guesses he mustn’t have slept that much himself over the night.
“M’okay.”
“Yeah well, if you were really okay, I guess we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
Jensen shrugs.
“Have you decided what you’re gonna do?”
“I don’t know where to start. Hell, I don’t even know if I should do anything at all.”
“About Jared.”
“No, about the Queen of England.”
“Jensen, man, you gotta give me something to work with here.”
“I know,” Jensen rasps. “I… if I go back to him, tell him I made a mistake and that I want back together with him… What if he realised I was right about calling it off, that I’m a freaking pain in the ass to live with.”
“Yeah, I can’t guarantee that won’t happen,” Christian says, because he’s never been known for sugar coating anything.
Jensen had been expecting it. It doesn’t make it any less scary, thinking he could be rejected.
“It’s not just that, man. I don’t… The shit I put him through. I mean, he’s the nicest guy. Never got mad at me, not once, but it’s been hard for him, what happened to me and… that’s not going to change. The freaking epilepsy won’t go away just because I decide I want Jared back.”
“Well, he knows that. I mean, he went into this with his eyes open. And he didn’t run.”
“Yeah…”
“So?”
“So, what if it works? What if I get my shit together and we go on and… We’re still at the very beginning, with hearts and puppies all around.”
“Hey, it’s seven in the morning. Don’t make me puke.”
“You know what I mean. What about six months from now… Or even a year? When the novelty and excitement and passion of the first months is gone and… Jared wakes up one day realising he’s living with a disabled man and… And the seizures and the absences and the meds and all the watching over me - it becomes a routine for him, a boring, intrusive one and…“
“Stop it. Right now.”
“What if he stays with me out of pity?”
“Jay,” Christian cuts him off, looking irritated. “This is bullshit. You know, I used to know this guy… He was a stubborn bastard. Decided that he would never be ashamed of his sexual orientation. And he had this attitude like… the worse things got, the more unashamed he was. Never ran. Never tried to be someone he wasn’t, never lowered his eyes. The little shit weighed maybe 120 pounds wet and he didn’t know how to fight, so he looked like easy prey. And I used to be pissed at him because I was scared something bad would happen and that I wouldn’t be there to save his ass. But that guy, I think he was right.”
“Oh god, don’t go all allegory on me.”
“Hey. I’m a deep man.”
There is a laugh in the background. Chris turns his head, shouting. “Shut up, Steve!” Then he turns back to Jensen and rolls his eyes like he’s surrounded by morons.
“Okay, fuck the allegory. That’s who you were. And it did piss me off. But I respected that. Remember what you used to tell me? That you had no reason to be ashamed of something that you couldn’t control.”
“And it’s the same thing with my epilepsy, right?” Jensen asks defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he thinks he must look like a brooding five year old and uncrosses them.
“Obviously. Not only that, but you’re an adult now, not a fifteen year-old. You know you don’t have any control over it. Jared knows. Every-fucking-body knows.”
“Cohen song, right?”
“Without the swearing, yeah. You used to like that Cohen guy.”
“Still do.”
“And you’re changing the subject, Ackles. Let’s face it, sometimes you just go full-on epilepsy and there is nothing you can do about it, but you take it all on yourself like it’s your fault or something. Yes, it sucks and it scares people and it’s hard for us to see you like that. And yeah, sometimes we have to take care of you and you hate it and I get that. But I’m not friends with your epilepsy, I’m friends with you.”
“Sounds like a song in a kid TV show”, Jensen sighs because it’s easier to mock than to really get what Christian is saying to him.
“Damn it,” Chris snaps, shaking his head slowly from left to the right. “Don’t be a moron. You know what I’m getting at. In six months or a year, if you’re still with this Jared guy and he’s still in love with you, maybe the seizures and stuff will become something like a routine, maybe sometimes he’ll feel tired of all of it. But that doesn’t change who you are and who he fell for in the first place. Maybe sometimes he’ll hate your fucking disease, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Yeah,” Jensen mumbles. He doesn’t dare make a sarcastic remark. When Chris starts to shake his head, it means he’s reached the end of his patience. A lot of guys could have spared themselves a good beating if they only knew how to read the signs.
“And I’m not done, with you,” Chris says, pointing his finger toward the screen. “But I gotta take a piss. Wait here.”
Like there’s anywhere Jensen could go. It doesn’t take much time for Steve to sit back in front of the computer.
“He is a deep fucker, isn’t he?” He asks, looking goofy and strangely sentimental.
“Are you high?”
“You were smoking a cigarette. I had a craving.”
“And… you smoke pot at seven in the morning.”
“Hey, Imma rock start. It’s in the job description.”
::: :::
It takes Jensen another whole day before he gathers the courage to call Jared. He’s half relieved, half disappointed when he goes directly to the voice mail. The first three times, he can’t bring himself to leave a message. There are so many things he wants to say that it all kind of melts into a maelstrom of words, leaving him speechless.
The fourth time, which is late in the afternoon, he succeeds in saying a weak, “Hi, it’s Jensen. Please call me back.”
It’s worse after that, because now he has to actually wait for the call. He tries to busy himself with the corrections of essays on the recurrence of the Moon in Paul Auster’s Moon Palace for the Contemporary American Literature class, but focusing is hard. His mind keeps wandering into the dark corners of his mind he’s trying so hard to ignore. Jared hasn’t called back because he doesn’t want to speak to him. He’s done with him. Maybe he was just waiting for Jensen to end things between them because he couldn’t bring himself to do it?
Before he goes to sleep that night, Jensen leaves another message on Jared’s voice mail. “Jared. I really need to speak with you. If you don’t want to talk to me, I need to hear it from you. Please, call me back.”
Jared doesn’t call back. Not that night or the next day. Jensen tries his number at home, sends a text message, even an email and doesn’t get anything back. It’s late Monday afternoon when he begins to think something might be wrong. It isn’t like Jared not to call back. Even if he’d been really mad at Jensen, or hurt, or just disgusted by the whole mess their relationship had become, he would still talk to him. Because Jared is like that. He practically exudes kindness. He puts the needs of others way before his own.
Jensen eats a quick supper in front of the TV, juggling the idea of calling a cab and going to Jared’s house to see for himself. He hesitates. Even though he feels better, there is the generalised seizure he had Friday night to think about. He doesn’t trust himself to go on a quest to find Jared all over York. He doesn’t want to mess with his epilepsy, not anymore. He’s already been playing with fire for way too long.
In the end, he decides to call Misha. Maybe Jared is just out of town, working, or visiting someone. Hell if Jensen knows.
Unlike Jared, Misha answers on the first ring. Hearing his voice, Jensen immediately feels beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His heart beats fast in his chest.
“Hey, Misha,” he tries for the best casual voice he can manage.
“Jensen?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you want?” Misha’s voice is cold and sharp.
“I’ve been trying to reach Jared for the last couple of days and I can’t seem to get a hold of him. Do you know…” Jensen can’t go on. His voice is shaking, his pulse racing.
“Jesus,” Misha sighs.
“What?”
“What is it that you want from him?”
“I need to speak with him. Is he out of town?”
“No, he’s not,” Misha answers mysteriously.
“Is it… is it because he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“Jensen, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Just say it. If Jared doesn’t wanna have anything to do with me, I can take it.”
Which is a lie. Jensen feels close to panic, doesn’t want to hear Misha’s answer. He’s not ready for this.
“It’s not that, it’s…”
Something in Misha’s voice is unnerving Jensen, giving him an eerie sensation. The panic he feels threatening to take over him grows stronger. “Is Jared okay?” He finally asks in a thin voice.
“Fuck no, he’s not.” Misha finally says, like he’s surrendering to Jensen.
“Oh god,” Jensen mumbles, sitting clumsily on his bench.
“Whoa. Hey. You’re not going all epilepsy on me, are you Jensen?”
“What happened? Is he hurt? Is it my fault?”
“He’s not… He’s home, Jensen. He’s not… Shit. Okay. You’re at your apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m coming to see you. Stay there.”
Misha hangs up and Jensen doesn’t hesitate, he goes straight for his Ativan.
::: :::
The sixteen minutes it takes for Misha to get to Jensen’s place are the longest ones of his life. When he sees car lights in the driveway, he almost trips over his own feet in his eagerness to open the door for Misha.
“What’s going on?” Jensen asks as soon as Misha is inside.
“Let me get my coat off,” Misha mumbles. “Can we at least sit?”
“Yeah, this way.”
Jensen practically runs to the kitchen and offers Misha a seat. Then he asks him if he’s thirsty. Then he asks what’s happening to Jared, then he starts fumbling in his cupboard to look for some tea because it seems appropriate.
“Will you just come sit down, I’m fine,” Misha tells him. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “And Jared’s life isn’t in danger or anything so try to calm down, okay?”
“I need to talk to him,” Jensen says, finally sitting. He just doesn’t seem to be able to shut up anymore.
“Yeah well, after what happened with you -then Felicia Day, he’s a mess, Jensen.”
“What? What happened to Felicia Day?”
“You don’t watch the news?” Misha raises a disbelieving eyebrow.
“Why would I…?”
“You do know who she is, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jensen murmurs, confused. “That’s the woman he’s talking care of, at the shelter? Got a little girl.”
Misha fills him in quickly, telling him how worried Jared had been and how the violent husband had been released on bail and had disappeared. Jensen is surprised by how much he doesn’t know about the matter. He remembers Jared working late because Felicia had been in trouble, and after that, he had stopped speaking of it. And then, Jensen’s status epilepticus had happened and everything had gone to Hell.
But Misha has saved the worst for last.
“Jared wanted to stay on the case but Felicia moved in with her sister in another town and their social services department took the matter into their own hands. After vanishing into thin air, Stewart went to Felicia’s sister’s house last Thursday. The police think he must’ve been watching her for some time because Felicia’s sister works late on Thursdays so he knew she wouldn’t be there. He punched Felicia hard enough for her to faint and took off with the little girl.”
“Jesus,” Jensen mumbles, shocked. “Are they alright?”
“Well, Felicia has a concussion, a broken nose, and a fractured cheekbone, so no, she’s not alright. Jared insisted I take him to the hospital and she’s hurt pretty bad. Will need surgery when the swelling subsides enough. But she’s gonna make it.”
“Have they found the little girl?”
“The police sent out the amber alert and Jessie’s face has been all over the news. That’s why I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t. I had no idea.”
“They only found Jessie last night, three states away. She’s fine. The motel clerk where Stewart stopped saw the girl in his car and recognised her. She was shaken pretty badly but she didn’t seem hurt. Stewart is back in jail.”
“Thank god.”
“Yeah,” Misha agrees, his blue eyes fixing on a point somewhere over Jensen’s head.
“And Jared’s upset.”
“Upset?” Misha barks out a laugh. “Well, that’s an understatement. He was freaking heartbroken when you dumped him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you really? Well anyway, to tell the truth, he’s been a mess since you were in the hospital and Felicia’s husband disappeared. He had those nightmares about you and his brother and couldn’t get any sleep. Then, you dumped him. Then there was the kidnaping and he just… broke down. Like it was his fault somehow. He does that sometimes. Jared. He’s that funny guy who’s always happy, never has any problems, always ready to help until-“
“Wait a minute,” Jensen cuts him off, frowning, trying to keep up with the flow of information. “You said he had nightmares about his brother?”
“Wait, did I say that?” Misha blushes suddenly, then shakes his head and mumbles something about his big, fat, giant mouth.
“Jared doesn’t have any siblings. He told me.”
“No. He does. You know, he would’ve told you, eventually. It’s just… it’s so hard for him to talk about Jeff. I knew the guy for two years before he told me, and only then because he can’t hold his liquor.”
“What are you talking about?” Jensen asks, and his voice seems alien even to him.
“Jeffrey was Jared’s brother. He died of a brain tumor when he was nine. Jared was six at the time.”
“God.”
“From what I know, he wasn’t supposed to die that soon, was in the process of having chemo treatments and stuff, but his tumor caused an aneurism and it was a matter of seconds. Jared’s the one who found him.”
“Oh. Fuck. God.”
Jensen feels cold and hot, palms clammy and cheeks burning red. He shivers, tries to get himself back together. How much does he know about Jared? Has anything ever been about anyone other than Jensen since the beginning of their relationship? Had Jared been waiting for the right moment to open himself up to him or had Jensen just not been listening. so trapped in his own misery that he never even wondered how Jared was doing.
I did, he thinks. I did, but I worried about him being worried about me. I never stopped to ask myself if there could be anything else.
“With what happened to you,” Misha goes on, his voice softer than a few minutes earlier, “it brought back some stuff Jared usually keeps burried so deep he sometimes doesn’t even remember it’s there.”
“I didn’t know any of this,” Jensen rasps. “I only thought he was worried about me and I couldn’t keep doing that to him and…”
“I know you didn’t know. Jared always seems to think his problems aren’t important compared to everybody else’s. He’s so busy trying to make everyone happy, to give them what they need, that he forgets about himself.”
“I was a mess, Misha. I don’t even think I could have been there for him; really there, I mean.”
“Come on. You were pretty sick. Don’t play Jared’s game and try to blame yourself for everything. But you gotta know, Jensen, he’s had a serious breakdown. I stayed with him as much as I could, but then he started worrying me and I called his mom. I mean, even tonight, after we got the news that Jessie had been found, it’s like it didn’t made any difference. He’s fallen hard. I saw it coming and I couldn’t stop it. His parents arrived this morning.”
“I need to see him.”
“Listen…” Misha hesitates, fidgeting with his fingers on the countertop. “He has people with him to comfort him and he’s not ready to have you as a friend. I don’t think you should go unless you’ve had second thoughts about the break up.”
“I love him, you know. It never was about what I felt for him.”
“Still, what do you want from him, Jensen? Because there is not a lot Jared can give right now.”
“I wanna tell him that I’ve been an idiot and that I never should’ve pushed him away. Fuck, it hurts just being away from him and I can’t stand the thought of him being hurt and I just want us to pick things up from where we left off.”
“Don’t keep doing this to him,” Misha murmurs. “I mean, I know your life sucks and your health issues are serious, but Jared doesn’t do well with people trying to push him away. He’ll always come back and try to make things work and, if you keep this up, you’re gonna burn him.”
“I won’t. Can you give me a ride?”
Misha nods and smiles a little. “Yeah.”
::: :::
Jensen’s eagerness to see Jared is overshadowed by his nervousness at the thought of meeting his parents. He wonders what they know about him, what Jared has told them. If he’d come home to find his son’s heart broken by some dude he’d never met, he probably wouldn’t be very enthusiastic to meet him.
“You alright?” Misha asks when Jensen doesn’t show any sign of wanting to get out of the car.
“Yeah, ‘m…”
“Jared’s parents are really nice,” the older man says, because apparently he can read Jensen’s mind.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Jensen murmurs, opening the door. “Thanks, Misha.”
“Yeah, don’t make me regret this. Jared’s my friend. Don’t want you to hurt him anymore. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have some kitchen chairs to build.”
Jared’s mom opens the door. She does look nice, something in her soft features reminding him of Jared. She looks at Jensen for a couple of seconds, then smiles. “Jensen, am I right? I’m Sherry, Jared’s mom. Come in, you’ll freeze out there.”
Jensen tries to smile in return, but doesn’t quite succeed. As he’s invited into the kitchen, he looks around in surprise. The house is a mess. Last time he’d been here, everything had been so neat it was as if nobody actually lived there.
“I came to see Jared,” he feels it necessary to add.
“Yeah, I guessed that. He’s in his room, sleeping. My apologies for the mess. Jared had a tough time and he kind of neglected the house a little. Jerry and I just got back from Florida and I haven’t had time to finish cleaning it up yet.”
“It’s okay.”
“I was making some tea, do you want some?” Sherry asks, already taking a second cup out of the cupboard.
He accepts the tea, shivering in his wool sweater and bracing himself. Sherry babbles about her husband being out to get some groceries and how she’d forgotten how cold it was here until she’d stepped out of the plane. She gives Jensen his mug before sitting in front of him, playing with the collar of her blouse.
“So, Misha told me you’ve been pretty sick lately. How are you now?”
“I’m good. I’m…”
“Epilepsy, right? Jared talked a lot about you but he never mentioned it. He didn’t mention how hard things have been at his job or anything else that could have given me a clue as to how he was doing either.”
“Oh.”
“Well,” Sherry shrugs. “That’s Jared, you know. Everything is always fine until he falls apart. He was drunk when we got here. At six in the morning.”
She has the expression of a mother who has caught her toddler doing something stupid, but can’t bring herself to be upset with him. Jensen doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what she wants to hear from him, but apparently, Jared’s tendency to fill the silence is a trait he’d inherited from his mom because Sherry goes on talking. “It’s so horrible what happened to that woman and her little girl, isn’t it? I understand that Jared must have been devastated. His heart is way too big for his own good. His brother died when he was so young. I never could tell if Jared’s always been this way or if Jeff’s death did it to him.”
“I’m sorry for the loss of your son,” Jensen looks away when he sees Sherry Padalecki’s eyes shining brightly.
“Gosh, I’m sorry. Didn’t sleep a lot in the last twenty-four hours. I shouldn’t ramble like that.”
“No, it’s okay. I… just wanted you to know, Jared’s been great to me. I’m a pain in the ass, very difficult to get along with, and he’s had to deal with my epilepsy and everything. He was struggling and I should’ve been there to help him but I didn’t know…”
“Neither did I. Jared’s good at not letting anyone know what’s bothering him.”
“Yeah, well, I should’ve…”
Jensen realises how overwhelmed and emotional he is about this whole conversation. Seeing Sherry’s love and concern for her son written all over her face and in the nervous movements of her hands, hearing it in each and every word she says, brings him brutally back to his own mother’s love for him.
Not pity. Love.
“I’ve come to fix what I’ve broken but I’m not sure,” he rasps, swallowing hard because damn, he’s not going to cry in front of Jared’s mother the first time he meets her. “I want to fix things, just not sure if I’m the right guy, or you know, if I’m what Jared needs. I’m…”
“Well I can’t answer that for you, sweetie. But I think you should go see him,” Sherry smiles Jared’s contagious smile and Jensen snorts, some kind of cross between a laugh and a sob.
“Okay.”
Jared’s door is closed. Jensen knocks softly and doesn’t get any answer. His palm is sweating when he turns the knob, like some kind of revelation is waiting for him on the other side, like he’s freaking Indiana Jones reaching for the golden statuette.
He doesn’t see a lot, at first. The curtains are draws. There is a persistent smell of sweat that invades his nostrils as his eyes get used to the semi-darkness. He tip-toes around a pile of dirty clothes and other things that are scrambled on the floor and kneels next to the bed, murmuring Jared’s name. There’s no movement under the covers and only a couple of strands of hair are sticking out.
“Jare? You awake?” Jensen murmurs again, dragging the comforter down to look at his boyfriend’s face.
Jared mumbles something, but doesn’t stir. Jensen takes a deep breath, trying to get his heart to slowdown as he takes in the sight of Jared’s tense, pale features. Jensen has never seen so much sadness written on a sleeping face. Jared has a week-old beard and his hair is sticking to his head in greasy strands. He stinks of alcohol and sweat. Under the covers, his long body is tucked into the smallest ball he could probably manage, both of his hands tucked under his body. He looks vulnerable and lost like a kid trapped in a giant’s body.
“Hey, baby, wake up,” Jensen coos softly, sliding one hand over Jared’s sweaty forehead to get the hair out of his face.
Just the thought that he’s on some level responsible for Jared’s pain is intolerable to him and Jensen feels his chest expand, like all his emotions are trying to burst out of him.
Not pity, love, he thinks.
“Jared,” he says more forcefully.
The younger man shifts and groans again, then he blinks slowly, like he’s stuck in slow-motion. The glassy, confused look he gives Jensen breaks his heart.
“Jen?” Jared slurs, untangling himself from the sheets with clumsy movements. “What you doin’ here?”
“Want you to come home with me, okay?” Jensen asks as softly as he can.
Jared’s eyes widen, then he nods.
Good, Jensen thinks. Good.
::: :::
It doesn’t exactly go smoothly after that. Jerry Padalecki offers to drive them back to Jensen’s place, doesn’t want Jared to drive in the state he’s in. The man is outwardly cold and distrustful of Jensen, but he doesn’t take it personally, knowing he’s the guy who just broke his son’s heart. Sherry insists on giving them almost half the groceries her husband has just bought, like they’re going camping or something. While his wife packs the food, Jerry observes Jensen openly, arms crossed over his chest. “So, you don’t have a driver’s licence, Jensen?” He finally asks, as if he’s been waiting to find the right question to give himself a measure of control.
“No, I can’t drive because of my epilepsy.”
“Uh-huh,” Jerry lets out, nodding slowly, although disbelieve is written all over his face, like Jensen has just said something completely insane.
All the while, Jared just sits at the kitchen table and waits, strangely passive, his head resting heavily on the palm of his hand.
The ride back to his place is silent. Jensen sits in the back with Jared, as close to him as he can get, giving directions to Jerry Padalecki who acknowledges them with a series of “uh-huh’s” and keeps looking at him in the rear view mirror. It would almost be funny if Jared wasn’t so completely out of it, letting Jensen hold his hand, but not initiating any additional contact with him.
Then, finally, they’re home. When Jensen’s about to exit the car, Jared’s father turns toward him. “You boys take care,” he says, although it’s clear that what he means is, you take good care of my son.
Jensen has every intention of doing just that.
Jared goes to sit in the living room as soon as he has pulled off his boots and jacket, like he’s too tired to stay upright, which is a situation Jensen knows all too well. They have exchanged only a few words since Jensen had woken him up, but he’s in no hurry, determined to make things right. Jared is in no state to make any kind of conversation right now.
Jensen crouches in front of him. “I’ll draw you a bath, what do you say?”
Jared blinks and looks all around him, like he’s just realised where he is. “Right, I stink,” he mumbles, trying for a smile, but failing miserably. “You don’t have to. I can…”
“You can barely stay upright. Wait here.”
It’s so intimate, helping Jared undress, sitting on the floor next to him as he cautiously sinks into the hot water. It’s different than when they’re naked together in a mess of tangled limbs and physical desire. Jensen wonders if this is how Jared feels when he has to take care of him, like he’s walking on thin ice and one false step could shatter them both. The impression he has that he’s getting his first glimpse of Jared stripped of all his defenses is so intense it makes him dizzy. Nakedness of soul and body, and it’s in between Jensen’s hands, like some kind of impossible puzzle he has to put back together..
It’s terrifying and intoxicating at the same time.
Jensen takes a washcloth and puts some soap on it, then starts to wash Jared’s chest, startling him just as he’d been about to drift off. Looking at him sleepily, Jared blushes. “You don’t-“ he murmurs.
“I want to. Let me do this.”
Jensen works slowly, dragging the washcloth over Jared’s body. He hears a sigh of contentment escape his lips and smiles to himself, eager to get more -it’s not sexual, not for now anyway.
When he’s done, Jensen grabs the hand-shower head and folds the washcloth before he delicately covers Jared’s eyes with it. Jared’s hand rises automatically to take it off, but Jensen grabs it. “M’gonna wash your hair, okay?”
“Fuck, Jensen, what are we doing?” Jared rasps, but stays still.
“You relax while I take care of your girly hair,” Jensen says, even though he knows that’s not what Jared means.
He turns on the water and washes his boyfriend’s hair, careful and cautious, taking his time to massage his scalp while Jared’s breathing slows down and gets deeper. His hands move slowly through the water, just like when fighting the wind through a car’s open window. When Jensen is finally done and takes the washcloth off, Jared blinks lazily at him, then smiles. It’s a very small discreet smile, hidden in Jared’s soft brown beard, but Jensen takes it nevertheless. He bends toward him and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I love you. So fucking much,” he says, keeping his face close so that he can look directly into Jared’s eyes.
“Don’t mess with me,” Jared replies without any anger or spite. Just brutal honesty.
“I’m not.”
“I don’t know what Misha told you, but I can deal, Jensen. I can… You don’t have to take care of me, you don’t have to take me back. I can take care of myself.”
“I was the one who called Misha in the first place, Jared. I tried to call you, but I couldn’t reach you.”
“I got one of your messages. Just… I thought maybe you wanted me to come and get the stuff I’d left here or… I had a rough week and I just couldn’t.” Jared lowers his eyes, but Jensen grabs his face between his hands, determined to get through this, this conversation, the mess they’ve made of their lives. “You’ve had a rough month, Jared. You’ve had a horrible month. I know. You can’t sleep, you’re struggling at work. What happened to Felicia and her daughter must have hit you so hard. And I wasn’t there for you. Never have been. You gotta let me in now. You understand me?”
“None of this is your fault,” Jared protests, still avoiding Jensen’s gaze.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Come on, let’s get you out of the tub. We’ll eat something and then go to bed.”
Jensen heats some chicken broth from one of Sherry’s bags and they drink it in mugs, sitting at the counter. Jared still has this dull expression in his eyes. Now that his hair, still wet, is pushed away from his face, Jensen can see how pale he is under the kitchen light, how sunken his eyes are.
Jared doesn’t drink much of his broth, but he starts talking, asking Jensen about how he’s been, how things are going with the nursing agency, and has he gone back to work? When Jensen realises they’re falling into the same old pattern again, with him being the principal subject of the conversation, he stops talking mid-sentence and shakes his head.
“No wait. This is… not how it’s supposed to go.”
“What?”
“I’m supposed to…”
Fix things. Get you to talk to me, tell you how important you are to me. I can’t do this, Jared. I don’t know how. I’m not good enough, I’m…
Shut up, damn it! Christian’s voice cuts his thoughts short. You see? What you do? Still worrying about your own inadequacy and it always comes back to you. Just forget about yourself for a moment, Jensen, forget about this Jensen-bashing thing you seem to like so much.
“Let’s go to bed,” Jensen says firmly, taking the two mugs to the sink.
Jared frowns but obeys quietly. It’s awkward, sliding under the covers, like they’re both strangers forced to share a bed for the first time. Jared is tense and immobile, lying on his back as far as he can from Jensen and looking straight at the ceiling.
“Ready to turn off the light?”
Jared shrugs. Jensen takes his time, trying to get his thoughts together. He still has one finger on the nightstand button when Jared startles him.
“What do you want from me, Jensen?”
He turns his head and sees a tear slowly making its way from the corner of Jared’s eye to disappear into his ear. Anxiety takes hold of Jensen’s heart and squeezes hard. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and turns off the light.
You can do this.
“I want us to pick up where we left off. I’m sorry for hurting you, Jared. I was wrong.”
“Well, you know how I feel about you,” Jared murmurs in an almost inaudible voice.
Jensen slowly turns on his side to look at Jared under the dim moonlight. He trails a finger from his forehead, traces the shape of his nose, then his lips. “Love you. I mean it, Jared. Never felt this for anybody before.”
“Fuck, I love you too,” Jared rasps, holding back tears. “Everything is just so fucked up… Everything . And I thought, I thought I had it under control and-“
“I know that.” Jensen gets closer to Jared and rises on his elbow, holding his head in the palm of his hand. “But that’s not how things work, Jare. Trust me when I tell you, you can’t control everything. Damn it, sometimes it feels like you can’t control anything at all. And huh… you should have talked to me, told me what was happening to you. I’m not sure I would’ve been much help, but I would’ve been there. It works both ways, you know. You tricked me into opening up to you, way sooner than I usually do. You’re good at it. You’re a freaking master.”
“Jensen, I don’t know what you think is your fault in all this, but you don’t have to feel responsible. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No. I did. I dumped you for no reason. Because I was scared.”
Jared turns his head then, and mirrors Jensen’s position. “I didn’t tell you what was bothering me. How could you have known? You’ve been so sick and-“
“Yeah, yeah. Been there, done that,” Jensen cuts him off. “I’m always going to have to live with this fucking disease, Jared. It’s not something that can be cured. You can’t protect me from it or from everything else. If we’re going to do this, you gotta be honest with me. If you’re always scared to talk to me because I just had a seizure or I might have one, we won’t go anywhere. We’re supposed to be there for each other and that’s what I want to be for you.”
“I… Fuck, I’ve been so scared of losing you, ever since that day,” Jared sobs, looking so lost and exhausted Jensen has to fight his own tears. “I can’t get it out of my head, the way you were when I found you. And then there’s J-… I have nightmares, can’t sleep and it always comes back to this, to me finding you and you’re dead and I can’t do anything.”
Jared bursts into tears, then takes Jensen into his shaking arms and holds him tight, burying his head in the crook of his neck and letting everything out. Jensen’s instinctive reaction is one of uneasiness and anger toward himself, for being responsible for Jared’s sorrow, him and the fucking beast that lives inside him.
He fights it. Concentrate on Christian’s words. You have no reason to be ashamed of something you can’t control.
Yes, it’s simple enough, isn’t it? But he still can’t reach this idea and make it his own. Can’t act like the last nine years of his life can be forgotten or lived differently. What’s done is done.
He has no control over it.
No control.
Never has. Never will.
Why don’t you just let go, then? Why can’t you just let go, Jensen?
“I’ve been s-s-scared too,” he stutters, feeling something break inside of him, making him shiver violently. “I don’t want to die. I just… I j-j-just wanna have a little bit of a normal life. With you.”
Jensen lets go, the sobs rising in his throat and bursting out of him. He holds onto Jared for dear life and lets go of everything.
And that’s how they fall asleep, tears and sweat mixing together, clinging to each other because they can.
Because loneliness is the worst beast of them all.
There’s so much more to talk about, so many things to work out so they can have a real chance together. Jensen had heard the hesitation in Jared’s words, the almost-but-not-quite there mention of his brother. But right now, this is enough. Right now, it’s all they can do. After all, their life together has just begun.
Epilogue