Fic: Gunpoint. AU RPS. Jensen/Jared. Chapter 8
Masterpost
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Epilogue | Author's notes | Soundtrack | AO3
Chapter 8
April 2006
“Jensen.”
Jensen ignores him in favor of counting. Thirty times on each side. Outer, inner. Upper, lower. Back, front. The toothpaste is cinnamon flavored. He prefers mint.
“He’s a dickhead. Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know jackshit.”
Jensen spits in the sink. It spatters pink and his gag reflex spasms as bile rises in his throat. Chris quickly reaches around him to turn on the faucet, splashing the water around until everything’s swirled down the drain and the porcelain is sparkly white again.
“Breathe. Jensen, breathe! Like that. Good. Keep going. Better?”
He nods. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the... In... In... In through the nose, out through the mouth.
“It was a little flirt, man. That’s what normal people do, they flirt and kiss and make out and even have sex. That’s what everyone does. You smiled at him. That’s all. It doesn’t make you a slut, okay?”
Jensen shakes his head. He knows. Of course he knows. He’s seventeen for fuck’s sake. He’s probably the only one in his class not having sex yet.
Yet...
“Oh Jesus, Jensen. Head between your knees, come on. Shh, shh. Like that. Fuck, boy, why you gotta make your life so goddamn difficult?”
Jensen doesn’t know. He really wishes he did. He really wishes he could just fix this.
------------
Present day
Once the decision had been made, Jensen expected to feel better. But the truth is he just feels more on edge. He hated therapy as a kid, hated it even more when he grew older. Such a waste of time. The thought of going back is enough to make his skin crawl.
His old therapist kept trying to make him talk. She even bribed him, promising him candy and ice cream and once a trip to Disneyland if he just opened his mouth and said some words. She really must have thought he was stupid. As if his parents would ever let him go to Disneyland. That place is crawling with pedophiles; he’d heard them say so more than once.
As the years went by her bribes turned into pleas that again turned into mild threats and attempted guilt trips. “How do you expect to get on in life if you won’t talk?” and “Don’t you understand how much this hurts your mother?” Every session had revolved around those stupid words, as if everything would be okay if he just started talking. Like that was all that was wrong with him, his refusal to speak. Because that’s how they all saw it. That it was his choice. Even when he was coughing and choking, tears springing to his eyes, they shook their heads and looked at him, all sad eyes and disappointment. He disappointed them. He was a disappointment. He was supposed to get better.
“We’ve tried everything. Why is he not talking?”
And the answer they got was that the doctors, the therapists, the hypnotist, the endless row of people falling over themselves trying to help their son were doing everything right. It wasn’t their fault nothing worked.
Jensen knows there’s nothing physically wrong with his throat. He knows there isn’t a wall on his tongue, or a tie on his vocal cords. There’s no logical explanation for why he can’t talk. None at all. It’s all in his head. His screwed-up, crazy, fucking head. So maybe they’re right. Maybe it is his fault. Maybe he is doing this to himself. But then why can’t he tell himself to stop? Why can’t he decide ‘This is it, from now on I’m talking, screw this mutism shit?’ Because he wants to. God help him, he does. He wants to be able to just open his fucking mouth and tell Jared everything he feels, everything he’s thinking. Pour his heart out no matter how pathetic, and girly and embarrassing it would be. If it meant he’d hold on to Jared, he’d do it, no hesitation. But he can’t, no matter how hard he tries. And where does that fit into their stupid Munchausen theory?
-----------
Chris hangs up with a curse before looking over, shaking his head in defeat. Another dead end. They all want referrals, or they’re booked solid, or they’re charging through the roof.
Jared strikes over the last name on their list, pursing his lips in thought. “I know someone who might be able to help. Remember Mike, the guy who gave us a ride at Halloween?” He pretends not to notice the way Jensen stiffens. “He’s a psych grad student. He must know people, or at least know where to look for them.” Jared looks up, fixing his eyes on an irritated Jensen. “Most important thing is we find someone you like. Someone who understands where you’re coming from, and who you feel comfortable with.”
Jensen rolls his eyes in a typical ‘Whatever’ fashion and stands up, jaw tight. He walks over to the kitchen, picking up his sketchbook and pencil on the way and settles down by the kitchen table, his back turned, shoulders and neck taut with tension. He looks like he’s already regretting the whole thing.
Jared gives Chris a questioning look. He shrugs. “Don’t take it personally. We talked about him going back some weeks ago, and he wasn’t too enthusiastic to tell the truth. He’s always hated therapy.” He glances over at Jensen then adds in a low voice, “If he told you he wants to go back I think that says a lot about how scared he is.”
“Why did he stop going in the first place?” Jared asks just as quietly.
“Money, mostly. Part time work don’t pay much.” Chris sighs. “I’ve told him I’ll help pay for it, but he just... He won’t. Damn stubborn when he wants to be. Which is pretty much all the time.” He looks over at Jensen again, this time with a fond smile. “I wouldn’t mind. It’s the best investment I can think of.”
Jared nods. There’s something bothering him that he’s not sure how to tiptoe around, so finally he just throws it out there. “His parents won’t help? Where are they anyway?”
Chris’s smile drops. “Still back home in Texas. They call but... Hard to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t talk back.”
“They don’t visit? Or send him money?”
“They had a disagreement,” Chris says, voice blank. “Didn’t like him living so far away. They wanted him close, so they could keep an eye on him. Said if he wanted to be here he’d be on his own.” He shrugs at Jared’s stunned expression. “Don’t think they expected him to stick with it, honestly. It’s been a year, and they’re still waiting for him to give up and come home. He won’t. As long as he has enough money for coffee and art supplies, he’s content.”
“But...” Jared says bewildered, “doesn’t he miss them? They’re his family.”
Chris looks at him. His eyes are tired and sad, and there’s something there that Jared can’t quite understand. “He doesn’t care, Jared. He doesn’t care about anyone, hasn’t done since... Since it happened. He doesn’t feel stuff like that.”
Jared blinks. It echoes Mike’s words from a few weeks back, but it’s still a shock, hearing Chris confirm it. “But...”
“Except you,” Chris quickly clarifies. “He cares about you. I don’t know how you did that, but somehow you made him care. I’d say you’re the only person he cares about in the whole world.” And there’s that look again. That sad look of resignation.
“That’s not true,” Jared says flustered. “He loves you, man. You’re his best friend.”
Chris smiles a little and shakes his head. “He needs me but he doesn’t really care about me.” He shrugs when Jared stares at him. “It’s okay. I care enough for the both of us.”
Jared shakes his head, bewildered. “How can you...? I don’t get it. How does that even work?”
“I don’t know. It just does. Sophia says it’s maternal. Or paternal, whatever,” Chris says, frowning in thought. “Like with babies. You have a baby, and you love it more than anything, right? You’d give your life for it, easily. But to the baby you’re just a warm, nice-smelling person that takes care of it. You’re safety. It doesn’t love you, because it doesn’t know what love is, not yet. It will, later. Later it will realize you’re its dad or mom, and it will love you almost as much as you love it. But until then it’s all on you.” He sighs. “Jensen had his later, and then it was taken away from him. He hasn’t been able to find his way back there.”
“Shit. That’s... That’s fucking tragic.”
Chris shrugs. “It is what it is.” He looks back at Jared, tilting his head a little. “Then you came along. And now everything is changing.”
“I’m never sure if you mean that as a good or a bad thing,” Jared confesses.
Chris chuckles. It sounds tired. “Honestly, I’m not too sure myself.”
They both look up when Jensen comes back, a pile of drawings in his hands. He lays them out like cards, like the panels of a comic book. There’s Jared on the phone to a faceless person whose talk bubble shows a woman writing in a notebook. Jensen, working at The Black Bean. A pile of money. A group of people Jared doesn’t recognize with a big question mark hanging over them.
Jensen clears his throat but gives up after a while, sighing in frustration. He points at the drawing of Jared on the phone before giving him an impatient look.
“You want me to call Mike, ask him for help? Okay, I’ll do that. See what he says.”
Jensen nods. He points at the drawing of himself then the one of the pile of money and looks over at Jared again.
“You want extra work to make more money?” Chris asks. Jensen nods again. “I’ll talk to Sophia. See if she can swing something. It would probably be the morning shifts on weekends then, you know. Not exactly your favorites.” Jensen grimaces but shrugs, indicating if that’s what he has to do then so be it. He points at the last picture.
Jared frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s Jensen’s family,” Chris butts in. “You’re thinking of asking them for help, is that it? In case you can’t cut it.”
Jensen looks grim, like there’s nothing he’d like less, but he points back at the money and sighs.
“Dude, I’ve told you,” Chris says exasperated. “I can help you pay for therapy. I want to.”
Jensen shakes his head, mouth set in a stubborn line.
“They’ll want you to come home, you know that. You don’t want to go back to Texas, do you?”
Jensen looks troubled for a moment, but then his face brightens, and he looks over at Jared, grinning.
“Me? Me what? Talk to them? You want me to talk to them?” Jared stares at him, incredulous. “Jensen, they have no idea who I am.”
But Chris looks over at him, thoughtful. “Tell them,” he says. “Jensen is right. They’ll be ecstatic.”
Jensen grins and wags his eyebrows as he rubs his fingers together, clearly thinking that happy people are more likely to part with their money.
Jared only feels more confused. “They’ll be happy about you having a boyfriend? You’re joking, right?”
Jensen shakes his head, his smile turning soft. He points at Jared then himself then lays his hand over his heart. Jared swallows. He thinks he gets it, the gist of it anyway. It’s just hard for him to imagine any parents thinking their son being in a relationship with another guy is better than him being a lonely heartless cynic.
“He’s right,” Chris says. “I don’t think you realize how huge this is. They won’t care that you’re a guy. They’ll probably be relieved you’re big and strong enough to take care of yourself, considering what a complete asshole Jensen can be.”
Jensen flips him the finger, scowling, but he doesn’t exactly argue.
“Okay,” Jared says, even if the thought alone is enough to make him feel slightly nauseated. He couldn’t even come clean with his own parents so how’s this gonna work? “I’ll give it a shot. But if they hate me that’s all on you.”
Jensen just rolls his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later Jared’s in the bathroom, the only place of privacy in the apartment, dialing the number to Jensen’s parents while trying not to throw up. Why on earth did he agree to do this? No chance in Hell this will go well.
“Yea’ello?” a deep voice says. The familiar twang hits Jared straight in the heart. This is what Jensen would sound like if he talked normally.
He swallows. “Mr. Ackles? You don’t know me but I’m a friend of Jensen’s.”
“Is he all right?” The voice on the other end of the line is instantly on alert, the tone tight with worry. Somehow it’s not at all what Jared imagined. “Where’s Chris?”
“Jensen is fine,” Jared hurries to assure him. “And Chris is right here, in the other room. They’re both fine, sir, I promise.”
Jensen’s father breathes out in obvious relief. “Thank God. Who did you say you were?”
Jared hesitates. It’s not like he can just say, ‘I’m Jensen’s boyfriend, and I want you to give him money for therapy.’ He has to find a nicer, subtler approach. Get in on their good side. Which is easier said than done, considering he doesn’t even know if they have a good side.
“My name is Jared Padalecki,” he finally starts. “Jensen wanted to tell you something and... Well, he’s not the most articulate person there is.” He slips a smile into his voice, and it seems to work, because the man chuckles although it sounds slightly pained.
“You could say that,” he agrees. “If silence really was golden we’d be millionaires by now.”
Jared breathes out a small laugh of his own. “Yeah. Anyway, he really wanted to tell you himself, but seeing as he can’t, he asked me to do it for him.”
“You’re kinda scaring me here, son,” Jensen’s dad says warily.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t...” Jared swallows. “This is a bit awkward for me. See, I’m his boyfriend.” He holds his breath.
“You’re his... Jensen has a boyfriend?”
"What?" Jared hears a female voice say in the background. "Jensen? Our Jensen?"
“Uhm, yes?” Jared says then realizes that doesn’t sound very convincing. “We’ve been going out for a couple of months now. He’s... pretty amazing.” He laughs, embarrassed by the heat firing up in his stomach.
“I’m sorry, I’m just...” The man clears his throat. “It’s quite a shock.”
Jared closes his eyes. Shit. “I’m sorry. You didn’t know he was gay?”
“Oh no, we knew. We just never expected...” The man breathes out. “Jared, is it?”
“Yes, sir. Jared Padalecki.”
“Is it... Is it serious?”
Jared smiles. “I’d say that, yes. I’m kinda stupidly in love with him.”
“But he...” Jensen’s dad audibly swallows. “Do you know about... about what happened to him?”
The smile drops. “Yes.”
“Then you know he’s... he’s never gotten over it. Never. He never will, do you realize that? He will never be okay.” The man chokes on the last word, like he’s only a breath away from crying.
“He’s doing a lot better,” Jared says quickly. “He talks, not much but a few words. He laughs, and he smiles, and, and he cries,” he adds awkwardly, remembering Chris’s astonishment. “Nothing serious, he just thought I’d broken up with him. Which I hadn’t. It was just a stupid misunderstanding.”
Jensen’s father hitches his breath. “He’s never cried. He’s never... I don’t get it. This is... You say you love him, but does he love you? Does he?”
“Yes, sir, he does,” Jared says firmly. It doesn’t matter that Jensen has never been able to say it out loud, he’s told him enough times just by looking at him. “I believe he loves me very much.”
Jared sits down on the toilet and rests his head in his hand as he listens to Jensen’s father cry. He can hear a woman’s voice in the background asking what’s wrong, and if Jensen is all right and "Alan, please, talk to me." He thinks about these people that have been through so much and obviously love Jensen more than anything and desperately want him to be happy, and Jensen... Jensen doesn’t even care. At all. He doesn’t care that he’s making his father cry by showing just an inkling of real emotions. He doesn’t care that his mother is worried sick that something is wrong. The only reason Jared is even talking to them is because he’s trying to weasel money out of them. He feels suddenly deeply ashamed. What the hell is he doing?
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know.”
“You didn’t-” The voice breaks off. “God. Donna?” Alan says helplessly. There’s a noise and then Jensen’s mother comes on the phone.
“Hello,” she says. “Jared, right?” Her voice shakes, but it’s friendly and warm, and Jared suddenly feels like crying himself.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to upset anyone. I just...”
“Jared, listen to me. Stop worrying. We’re not upset, we’re just a bit overwhelmed.” She laughs, a shaky laughter that sounds closer to crying. “It’s not every day you hear your son has reclaimed his heart.”
Jared swallows. “He’s still a giant jerk if that helps any,” he jokes, and she starts laughing.
“Yes, that does sound like my son.” She sniffles a little then sucks in her breath and asks, “So why did he really want you to call? Because I know my son, and he couldn’t care less what we thought about his love life.”
Damn. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says gently. “Just tell me.”
Jared hesitates. “He wants to go back to therapy, but he can’t afford it. He needs your help.”
“But he hated therapy,” she says confused. “Why would he-” She hitches her breath. “Oh God. Did something happen?”
“No, no. Not... Well, maybe. We’re not sure.” Jared pauses. “We think he might be starting to remember what happened those weeks he was gone.”
She makes a small noise, like a wounded animal. “No, no. That’s not possible. Not now. No. It was too long ago.”
Oh shit. That doesn’t sound good. “Mrs. Ackles,” Jared says carefully, “I know this must be very hard for you, but I need... I need to know what to expect if-”
“No,” she says more firmly this time. “You must be mistaken. No.”
Jared swallows. “Jensen is terrified. He has very specific ideas about what might have happened to him, and he is really, really scared, ma’am. He says if he starts having flashbacks of, of rape he’s not gonna... He can’t... He says he’ll kill himself.” There’s that small noise again. It hits Jared like a punch in the heart. “I think... I think he really means it, and it scares the hell out of me. So if you know anything, I need you to tell me. Was there any...? Is he right, is that what...?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Jared closes his eyes. Oh God. “There was evidence that...?”
“Yes.”
Oh Jesus. “And you never told him.”
Her breath hitches. “How could we? He was ten years old! He was just a little boy. And he was so, so broken. My baby.” She makes that small noise again, and Jared’s eyes tear up. “What would have been the use anyway? He didn’t remember! It was a gift. Do you understand? It was a gift from God.”
Jared swallows. “I understand, I do. It’s just... He’s not stupid, ma’am. He was held hostage for three weeks by a sex offender, a period his brain has deemed too traumatic for him to remember. It’s not that hard for him to put two and two together.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” she sobs. “I can’t... I know he doesn’t care about us but we love him. We love him so much. He’s our son. And I can’t... I can’t.”
She starts to cry, and Jared feels like the biggest asshole on earth. He has no idea what to do. Fuck.
“We’re looking around for a psychiatrist right now,” he says quietly. “I won’t tell Jensen the truth unless it’s deemed safe, I promise. But if that’s what he needs to know to be able to deal with this then I have to. Do you understand?”
“No. No, I don’t understand. Why does he have to know? If he doesn’t remember...”
“Ma’am, if he starts getting flashbacks he’ll be dealing with what happened to him as a ten-year-old, not as an adult. It would break him.” She starts crying again and Jared rubs a hand over his face. “I want to protect that little boy just as much as you do. If he has to face what happened to him, isn’t it better he does it when he’s within his right mind?”
There’s a long silence only broken by the sound of her trying to compose herself. “Yes,” she finally whispers. “Yes, it’s... You’re right.”
Jared breathes out. “Thank you. I promise, we’ll take every precaution but... I need your help. He can’t afford it, and I’m on a scholarship here and Chris is struggling and... I hate to ask this, but Jensen needs you to help him out.”
“He’d been going to the same psychiatrist here ever since... since it happened. But then he insisted on going away, and his father got angry and...” She takes a deep breath then lets it out slowly. “Of course. Of course we will. We’ll pay for everything.”
“Donna...” A tired voice says in the background.
“No! You listen to me this time. We’re not dragging him back here when he’s finally found someone. We’re going to do the best we can to make sure he stays as happy as possible.”
“All right, honey. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Sshh, don’t cry.”
Jared closes his eyes, waiting while Jensen’s father calms his wife down. He feels like he just reached into these people’s lives and clawed their souls open, bringing all the hurt and painful memories back to the surface. And what for? So he can tell Jensen he was raped as a child? What good can ever come out of this?
Jensen’s dad comes back on the phone, and they make arrangements in quiet subdued voices, both feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Jared thanks him and asks him again to forgive him for intruding and for upsetting both of them. “I’m really, really sorry about all of this.”
“Son, don’t. Just take care of our boy and - not that I suppose he will care - but please tell him we love him, and that we miss him, and that’s he’s welcome home whenever he wants to visit. And that we’d love to come see him if he’ll have us.”
Jared swallows. “I will. Thank you. For everything.”
“No, thank you. You have no idea what it means to us to know he has you. It’s a miracle in itself.”
----------
Jared’s been in the bathroom for a long time, but Jensen isn’t worried. Jared is good at talking to people. He always sounds very sympathetic and sincere, and you can tell he means it, that he’s not faking.
Chris on the other hand is pacing the floor, looking like he’s ready to storm the bathroom if Jared doesn’t come out soon. Every now and then he stops, looking over at Jensen, all worried and stressed. Jensen ignores him.
When Jared finally comes out his eyes are rimmed red, and he looks pale and worn. Like he would love nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week.
Anger flares up in Jensen’s chest. What the hell did his parents say to make Jared look like that? He thought they were okay with him being gay - not that he’d care if they weren’t - but maybe that only applied as long as there was no one else to take it out on. As if Jared hasn’t suffered enough with his own homophobic Jesus fanatic family. Maybe Jensen should ask Chris to tell his parents about the blowjob adventures. Might help them put things in perspective.
Pushing his anger aside for now he stands up and walks over, giving Jared a kiss and a questioning look.
Jared nods, face oddly blank. “They’re paying,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”
Jensen shrugs. He wasn’t worried, not really.
“They said hi,” Jared says quietly. “And to tell you they love you.”
Jensen nods, indifferent. He knows his parents love him. It used to make him angry, that they’d let all those bad things happen to him and then still claimed they loved him. Didn’t matter that he knew they didn’t make them happen, he still thought they should have done a better job of protecting him. He’s not mad at them anymore. He doesn’t feel anything about them really. He couldn’t care less if he never saw them again. They have Josh and Mac to give them what he can’t. They’ll both get married and give his parents grandchildren and play the role of Perfect Family, and in time everyone will forget about Jensen, the freak son. The sooner the better.
He stiffens when Jared suddenly pulls him into a hug, arms so tight around him he can feel himself start to panic. He’s about to shove Jared violently away when he feels it. A subtle tremor running through Jared’s body. Like he’s trying so hard and still failing not to cry.
Just like that Jensen’s own panic disappears. He puts his arms around Jared, running his fingers up his back and into his hair, carding through the sweat-damp tangles. ‘Sshh,’ he wants to say and ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘I’m here’ and ‘Talk to me.’ And ‘I’ll kill them for hurting you!’ He runs his knuckles over Jared’s spine, so strong and still so easily bent. ‘They’re just words,’ he wants to say. ‘Good-for-nothing words. They don’t mean jack shit.’
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Jared mumbles, sucking in air through his nose. “I’m okay.” He pulls back and gives Jensen a small shaky smile. “Guess I’m just missing my folks,” he says, but his eyes shift away as his breath hitches, and Jensen is way too good at reading people’s expressions to fall for the lie.
He doesn’t push it though, just pulls Jared down for a kiss before letting him go with a pat on the back. He turns around to find Chris watching them. He looks worried, anxious even, but as he makes as if to say something Jensen sees out of the corner of his eye Jared give him a subtle shake of his head, and just like that Chris snaps his mouth shut. Jensen shoots Jared a sharp look, but he just gazes back, looking far too tired to be contemplating anything more sinister than where to lay his head to rest.
They order take-out, and Jared falls asleep on the couch, head in Jensen’s lap. Jensen lets him sleep until the food arrives, ignoring the way Chris keeps fidgeting in the chair like he’s itching to do something, Jensen doesn’t know what. Maybe he’s wondering if he can leave them to meet up with Sophia. They’ve gone out a few times. and Chris always comes home grinning like an idiot and smelling like her. It’s irritating, but Jensen doesn’t say anything. He’s trying to be a better person. Not a jerk. Even if it means pretending he doesn’t care that Chris is spending so much time with someone else. Not that he really does care. He has Jared now. If Chris wants to abandon ship and shack up with Sophia instead Jensen doesn’t care. He doesn’t care one bit.
He gets up to go to the bathroom sometime during the second half of Survivor, and when he comes back Jared has his eyes closed again, and Chris’s chair is empty. He hears a strange sound coming from outside, like a dog whimpering, but when Jensen moves to the window to investigate, Jared is suddenly behind him, kissing his neck and running his big hands down Jensen’s hips, light and careful the way he always does.
“Can we go to bed?” he whispers. “I want to make you feel good.”
His voice breaks a little on the last word, but when Jensen turns around to see what’s wrong Jared catches his face in his hands, and then they’re kissing the way they haven’t done in weeks. It’s hot, and deep, and hungry and has Jensen’s head going light as the blood in his veins rushes downwards. He grabs Jared’s arms for support, pushing his hips forward, and it’s as if Jared can read his mind, because his thigh comes up, allowing Jensen to ride it until he’s moaning into Jared’s mouth and hitching his breath.
“Bed,” Jared mumbles, and Jensen comes along easily, letting Jared push him down on the bed and closing his eyes as Jared works his jeans open and pulls them down. He thinks he hears Jared hitching his breath, but it gets lost in the wonderful sensation of a warm mouth swallowing him down.
Jared’s hands are running up his thighs, thumbs stroking over his hipbones so softly, like he’s caressing a kitten. His nostrils whistle as he breathes out, air rushing through Jensen’s treasure trail. Jensen lets out a strangled sound in the back of his throat. It sounds like a sob even if he doesn’t mean it to be, and Jared is instantly there, kissing his lips, his cheeks, the slope of his neck.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jared whispers, his voice sounding oddly choked. “I’ll never hurt you.” His cheek brushes Jensen’s nose and wetness smears over his skin. Jensen groans, squeezing his eyes tighter shut in embarrassment. He didn’t even notice he was crying this time. No wonder Jared sounds so worried.
‘I’m okay,’ he wants to say. ‘It’s nothing. Stop worrying and get on with it.’
Jared kisses him again, on the lips this time. He tastes salty, like precome and tears, and Jensen kisses him back hard, fucking his tongue into Jared’s mouth to let him know how much he wants this. Jared lets out a startled ‘oomph,’ and then he laughs a little, kissing Jensen back, his nose sliding wetly over Jensen’s cheek.
“Okay, okay,” he breathes, “I get the message.” By the time Jensen opens his eyes Jared is already halfway down the bed, kissing his way down Jensen’s chest. His lips feel hot to the touch, almost feverish, and Jensen’s eyes slide shut again as his cock is once again enveloped in the wet silky heat of Jared’s mouth.
It’s all still so new to him that it doesn’t take him long before he’s coming with a strangled cry and his fingers tangled in Jared’s hair. Jared crawls up the bed and lies down beside him, burrowing his face in Jensen’s neck. His breathing is shallow and erratic, his hand damp with sweat where it rests on Jensen’s chest. When Jensen gets his breath back and reaches down to return the favor, Jared moves his hips away and shakes his head.
“I’m good,” he says. “I’m good.”
Jensen hums, feeling too wiped out to wonder about Jared’s cock brushing soft and vulnerable against his hand.
---------
Jared watches Jensen work behind the counter as his own coffee cools in the mug in front of him. He’s finding it harder and harder to take his eyes off Jensen, like ever. It’s like watching an answer to a math problem that shouldn’t add up. He’s read the statistics, knows the numbers. Every fifth girl he sees, every seventh boy he smiles at. Sexually abused. Raped. Which makes the potential number of abusers alarming. The guy selling papers on the corner. His English lit professor. His best friend’s dad. Any one of them is a candidate. Not like they have RAPIST or CHILD MOLESTER tattooed onto their forehead. The fact is, there is no way to tell. And that just freaks him the fuck out. How? How is it possible? How can people do something like that? How can they live with themselves? And how, how on earth do the children survive it?
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how a child can be hurt, and abused and terrorized like that, can have its whole childhood ripped apart by monsters, and not spend the rest of its life screaming its head off in a padded cell. He thinks if someone had done something like that to him that’s where he’d have ended up. So where do they get their strength from to carry on?
Jensen’s mother had called it a gift from God that Jensen couldn’t remember what had been done to him. Jared isn’t sure about the God thing - he thinks if there really was a God he should make damn sure things like that didn’t happen to innocent children in the first place - but he can’t help agreeing with her in hoping that Jensen never gets his memories back. So far there’s nothing that suggests he will, not in the near future anyway. He hasn’t had any flashbacks or regression spells since that day in the dorm. No little kid spilling secrets into Jared’s ear or leaking them into Jensen’s mind. For all they know the kid might never resurface. That still doesn’t change the fact that Jensen is clearly terrified he might, and that fear is slowly but surely crippling him.
“You good?” someone says and Jared looks up to find Chris standing by his table, wet rag in his hand.
“Good enough. How you feeling?” Jared asks back.
Chris shrugs. His eyes are bloodshot, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept for a week. As hard as it is for Jared to accept what he knows now, it’s clearly hell on Chris. Probably because he still remembers the little boy Jensen was back then. And even if Chris always suspected, having it confirmed clearly has shaken him up more than he anticipated. Jared can’t even imagine how Jensen’s parents must feel. How do you deal with knowing your child has been abused in the most horrible way imaginable?
“Your friend find a shrink for Jensen yet?”
Jared shakes his head. “He’s working on it. Turns out Jensen is a bit too special for most people to handle.”
“Tell me about it,” Chris snorts. “Like his old psychiatrist, I’m sure she was a nice lady and all, but I think Jensen frustrated the hell out of her. Her list of diagnostics probably got as long as my arm.”
His smile drops. He taps his fingers on the table, scowling a little. “They wouldn’t tell me anything, you know. His parents. They were happy with me looking after the guy, but when I tried to get some answers they always shot me down. I tried talking to his shrink, and she claimed confidentiality. Of what? His silence? It really pissed me off. And it really fucking pisses me off that they knew all along what was done to him, and no one told me. No one!”
Jared stays silent. He doesn’t know what to say.
“What if he’d started getting flashbacks from that?” Chris rages on. “What was I supposed to do if he went fucking crazy on me, because inside his head he was being raped, and he couldn’t even let me know? Seriously, what the hell were they thinking?”
“I think they were in denial,” Jared says quietly. “Wouldn’t you be if that was your kid?”
Chris clenches his jaw. “Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know. It’s still fucking stupid.”
He makes a show of wiping Jared’s table, eyes shooting to Jensen as if he’s afraid he might overhear them. Thankfully Jensen is busy wrapping a sandwich for a pretty blond girl with a very generous chest. She keeps giving him obvious flirty smiles that Jensen pointedly ignores.
“I need to go on a supply run. You gonna stay here for a while?”
Jared nods. Where else?
“Good. Keep an eye on him. He’s way too quiet.” Chris gives Jared a sharp look. “He speaking to you?”
Jared shakes his head. “No, not a word. Been almost two weeks.” He tries to make it sound casual, but he can’t hide the hurt, and Chris gives him a sympathetic look.
“He does this sometimes. Weeks, even months, where he won’t-” Chris stops, his cheeks flushing red. “I mean where he can’t speak. Don’t worry too much about it.” He smiles, but it’s far from reassuring. “You have my number if anything happens.”
Jared nods. He watches Chris walk behind the counter and hang up his apron before saying something to Jensen who just nods and shrugs annoyed when Chris lays a hand on his shoulder. Chris steps, back but Jared can see hurt flash quickly across his face before it settles on the trademark grumpy scowl. He gets his jacket out of the back room, and then he’s gone, the sound of his truck growling to life outside and then fading away.
Jared sighs. He sips his coffee. He flips idly through his book and wonders if Jensen and Chris do anything special for Thanksgiving, and whether he can invite himself over without being too obvious. He purposefully doesn’t think of his family, and what they might say about him, when faced with his empty seat at the Thanksgiving table. Maybe they won’t say anything at all. Maybe they’ll just remove one chair, so it won’t be as noticeable that he’s missing.
Jared shakes his head and quickly moves his thoughts to Jensen’s family instead. He wonders what their holidays were like. What the hell do you give thanks for, when your child’s been traumatized beyond repair? ‘Thank you, Lord, for taking away our son’s horrible memories. Too bad you had to take away his heart as well. His emotions, his happiness, his chance of ever having a goddamn normal life. Not like you’re omnipotent or anything. You fucking useless asshole!’
Someone clears their throat and Jared jerks out of his thoughts, looking up to find Mike gazing down at him, clearly worried by whatever he sees in Jared’s startled eyes. Jared averts his gaze and slips his hands under the table, uncurling his fists and forcing his jaw to unclench. His molars ache from biting down too hard. He breathes out then looks up again, forcing a smile.
“Please tell me you found someone,” he says, not bothering with a hello.
Mike slides into the booth. “I found someone.”
Jared lays his head down on the table, breathing out in relief. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”
He lifts his head to find Mike watching him with sympathetic and worried eyes. “You look like shit,” he says, and Jared can’t help laughing.
“Thank you. That’s... always nice to hear.”
Mike smiles. “Sorry. Apparently my bedside manners leave something to be desired.” His face turns serious again. “Are you taking care of yourself? Eating, sleeping, not worrying about Jensen twenty-four seven?”
“I’m fine,” Jared dismisses, silently ticking off ‘trying’, ‘occasionally’, ‘sometimes’ and ‘you’re kidding, right?’ in his head. “Tell me who you found.”
Mike holds his gaze a little longer before giving in with a sigh. “Her name is Samantha Ferris, she specializes in sexual abuse victims, mainly children, and she uses art therapy.”
Jared blinks. “Okay, that sounds pretty much perfect. What’s the catch?”
Mike smiles. “No catch. I hadn’t considered her because I thought she lived up in Canada these days but turns out she moved back here last spring. So I called her, and of course she’s booked solid, but I explained Jensen’s case, and she’s intrigued. She wants to meet him and then...” He shrugs. “We’ll see what happens.”
Jared nods. He looks down, biting his lip.
“Are you okay?” Mike asks, reaching over to grab his hand. “Jared?”
“Sorry, I’m just...” He lets out a small shaky laugh. “It’s been really…” He stops again, unable to go on.
“I can imagine,” Mike says gently, rubbing a thumb over Jared’s clenched knuckles. “You’re going to be all right, Jared.”
Jared sniffles and nods. “Yeah. Of course.”
A shadow falls over the table, and Jared looks up to find Jensen looming over them, looking really pissed off, until he sees the tears in Jared’s eyes. The scowl drops instantly, and he’s sliding into the booth by Jared’s side, hand on his neck, searching his eyes for answers.
“I’m okay,” Jared says, managing a smile. He pulls his hand away from Mike’s comforting grip and drops it in his lap, laying his other hand reassuringly on Jensen’s thigh. “Guess what,” he says in a bright voice, “Mike found you a psychiatrist.”
Jensen turns to Mike in question, eyebrows raised, facial expression a mixture of dread and hope.
Mike repeats what he told Jared, writing down the woman’s name as well as the time and place for his appointment. “I gave her a brief summary of what’s going on, but you’re the one she wants to talk to. You need to make an effort, okay?”
Jensen’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening in irritation.
“Don’t give me that look,” Mike says impatiently. “I’m not saying you need to speak, but you need to be willing to communicate somehow. More than that, you need to be willing to open up.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. He tilts his head, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrow in a perfect image of annoyance. Jared laughs.
“I think he means to say he wouldn’t have asked you to find someone if he wasn’t planning on working with them,” he explains with a smile that widens when Jensen nods, looking smug, like the proud owner of a talented dog.
“Smartass,” Mike mutters, which only makes Jared grin wider. “I mean it though. She’s using her private time for this, because she wants to help you.”
Jensen gives him a patient look. He grabs a napkin and pulls the pen from behind his ear, frowning in concentration before writing ‘MY CHOIC’ with crooked letters. He shows it to Mike, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I know. And you’re right, that makes a difference. Just don’t forget that,” Mike tells him.
A loud ping breaks the start of a stubborn staring match and Jensen looks over at the counter. There are three people waiting for service, one of them looking really pissed off. He slams his hand down on the bell again, giving Jensen an angry glare. “Hey, you! Deaf guy!”
Jared stiffens, his hand gripping Jensen’s thigh tight but Jensen just rolls his eyes and turns to give Jared a long, hard kiss, no hurry at all, before sliding out of the booth.
“It’s about time,” the guy spits out. “I’ve been waiting ten minutes.”
More like one maybe, Jared thinks, watching closely in case the guy tries anything. But Jensen just gets behind the counter and looks up at the guy with a bored expression.
“Cappuccino. And hurry.” The guy turns to the other two waiting, both of them looking extremely uncomfortable with the whole charade, and rolls his eyes with an angry sneer. “Fucking retard,” he says, and Jared is halfway out of the booth when Mike grabs him by the wrist, stopping him.
“Let Jensen handle it,” he says quietly. “You’re just gonna piss him off if you start a fight.”
“But that asshole...”
“Is about to get the worst cappuccino in the history of coffee making,” Mike says patiently. “I’m betting half a cup of coffee grinds, and a mouthful of spit in the foam.” He looks over at Jensen, smiling a little. “I’m telling you. I’ve been coming here for a long time. No one knows how to handle asshole customers like Jensen. Guaranteed to never return.” Mike turns back to Jared, eyeing him with sympathy. “He doesn’t care what people say, Jared. It doesn’t bother him.”
“That still doesn’t make it right,” Jared argues. “You don’t talk to people like that.”
“Of course not but-”
“What do I have to pay for this shit then?” the guy says loudly and both Jared and Mike look over. Jensen is just staring at the guy blankly, pointing up at the menu when the guy yells, “What?” again. The guy looks up then back down, an ugly grin on his face. “What was that? I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”
Jared goes tense but Mike grabs his wrist again, stopping him. “Don’t.”
Jensen rolls his eyes and points at a small sign taped to the register. Jared knows it says ‘We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone too stupid to read the menu’. He suspects Sophia put it there, the handwriting is obviously not Jensen’s and it’s too delicate to be Chris’s. When Jared first read it he’d found it funny, but judging by the look on the guy’s face he doesn’t. Not at all.
“This is gonna end badly,” Jared mutters.
Mike tightens the grip on his wrist. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t care what people-”
“Didn’t seem to be anything wrong with your tongue when you had it down your faggot boyfriend’s throat,” the guy sneers, and Jensen punches him right in the face.
Jared and Mike are both on their feet in a flash, running over and grabbing the guy before he has time to launch himself over the counter. He’s yelling and snarling insults, blood running from his broken nose as he fights to get at Jensen. Jared looks up to find Jensen standing still, cradling his fist in his other hand. He’s blinking rapidly, his face pale except for two red spots in his cheeks. He looks more surprised than shocked.
Mike starts pulling the enraged guy toward the door, and Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen to give him a hand. Together they throw the guy out onto the snow-covered pavement where he continues to scream insults and threats, his nose already swelling in his otherwise purple face.
“I’m suing this place! I’m suing that fucking retard! I’m suing all of you!”
“For what?” Mike asks calmly. “There are about ten people in here that will gladly testify that you were the one who attacked first. Right?” he adds, looking over his shoulder at the small crowd watching the display. They all nod, looking grim.
The guy gets to his feet and takes a step forward, but Jared does as well, pulling up to his full height and subtly flexing his muscles. The guy instantly falls back, looking unsure. Jared smiles sweetly. “You fucked with the wrong ‘retard’, asshole. Now get the hell out of here before this faggot rips you a new one.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer but walks back in, slamming the door shut behind him. “Shit,” he breathes out, looking over at Jensen. He’s still standing in the same spot, staring at his hand with a puzzled expression on his face. The crowd is dispersing, getting back to their coffees with satisfied smiles and animate talking and the two that were waiting in line seem in no hurry so Jared goes behind the counter and takes Jensen by the elbow, leading him over to the chair to sit down.
“Hey. You okay? Are you hurt?” He crouches by Jensen’s side and takes his hand, lightly stroking over the bruised knuckles with his thumb. Jensen flinches, but when Jared looks up in alarm Jensen just shakes his head. He still looks a bit dazed, like he’s not sure what happened.
“That was one hell of a right hook,” Jared says with a small smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Jensen shrugs, smiling a little crooked. He flexes his fingers, frowning slightly.
“No broken bones?”
Jensen shakes his head.
“So I guess you were defending my honor,” Jared says lightly, laughing when Jensen blushes. “You know I’m a big boy, right? I can take care of myself.”
Jensen looks up at him, his eyes serious. He reaches to cup Jared’s face then leans over and kisses him. “You hate that word,” he says, his voice hoarse with disuse.
Jared stares at him. “I do,” he says slowly. “You’re talking.”
Jensen gives him a tired smile and kisses him again. Then he stands up and goes to serve those waiting, leaving Jared crouching on the floor, staring at him in wonder. He gets slowly to his feet and walks back to the booth where Mike sits waiting for him.
“He okay?” he ask.
“He spoke,” Jared says dazed then shakes his head, trying to clear it. He feels a little dizzy. “Yeah, he’s fine. Bruised knuckles, that’s all.” He sinks back down on the bench, staring into his now cold coffee. “He just uttered his first words in almost two weeks. I was starting to think...” He stops, shaking his head. “Chris says before I came along Jensen sometimes went months without saying anything. I guess I thought I’d cured him of that. Stupid, I know.” He gives Mike a small ironic smile.
“Not stupid,” Mike says lightly. “Naively optimistic maybe.”
“Yeah. So...” He looks at the information scribbled down on the page in front of him. “You think this is going to work?”
Mike is silent for a while. “Jared,” he finally says, his voice quiet, “you do realize PTSD is not curable?”
Jared’s head snaps up. “What?”
Mike watches him, worried. “It can’t be cured. Even the best psychiatrist in the world wouldn’t be able to magically make Jensen better. This is about helping him find ways to manage it, to live with it, not curing him.”
“But...” Jared swallows. His stomach twists, pushing bile up his throat. “Never?”
Mike shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d read up on this. You said...”
“I did. I, I did. I just...” Jared rubs a hand over his face. “This mutism thing, kids who have it, they get better. I mean, those articles I read talk about weeks, maybe months. I know he’s an extreme case-”
“Really extreme,” Mike cuts in. “Exceptionally.”
“Yes, but-”
“It doesn’t matter. Even if he starts talking it doesn’t mean he’s cured, Jared. The mutism is just a symptom. Like the age regression, and the flashbacks, and the jumpiness and the anger issues... We can treat the symptoms, find ways to deal with them and lessen their impact, but the PTSD is never going to completely go away. Even at his best he’s going to have moments where you feel like nothing’s changed at all. That’s just how it is.”
Jared stares at him. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not sure he could open his mouth without being sick all over himself.
“I’m really sorry, I seriously thought you knew this. When you said you’d read up on it, I assumed... I’m sorry.” Mike sighs. He pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and starts writing. “These are some online support groups you might want to look into. They have chat forums and all kinds of information for both sufferers and carers. I know many find them really helpful.” He looks up with a small smile. “Don’t let them scare you off. They can be very blunt and straightforward, and they won’t sugarcoat it for you. Which means they’ll tell you things you don’t really want to hear, like I just did. But honestly, it’s what you’re gonna need more than anything. People who know and can let you know if you’re doing it wrong.”
“Like what?” Jared manages hoarsely.
“Like what Chris does for example. The man is a saint, but he is breaking so many rules it’s painful to watch. He needs to stop seeing Jensen as that broken ten-year-old and start treating him like an adult. Stop making excuses for him, stop walking on eggshells around him, stop allowing him to steamroll over everyone, including himself. And he needs to learn to back off when asked to. He hovers like a mother hen, all the time. All it does is make Jensen more edgy.”
Jared swallows. What if he’s doing everything wrong? Like that backing off thing, he sucks at that. Even when Jensen shrugs him off he keeps coming back, to lay a hand on Jensen’s shoulder or his hip, just because he wants Jensen to know he’s there for him. Doesn’t matter if Jensen shrugs him off again and again and scowls in annoyance, he still keeps coming back. It’s just so hard to see someone he loves looking so tense and clearly miserable and not try to reach out to comfort him.
“Do you think I’m making him worse? I mean, he was getting better and then he suddenly got worse and now I don’t know if-”
“Jared, stop. You can’t think like that or you’ll go insane, okay?” Mike gives him a small smile. “Go home. Get some rest. You look half-dead, kid.”
“Jensen will get off his shift soon-” Jared starts but Mike shakes his head, cutting him off.
“Go home alone and sleep. You need sleep.”
Jared looks at him. He looks over at the counter. Chris is there, he must have come back while they were talking. He’s talking to Jensen who pays him little or no notice, and only frowns in annoyance when Chris snaps his fingers to get his attention. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe they need a small break, if only for a few hours.
Jensen raises his head and catches Jared watching. His face breaks out in a smile. He looks more relaxed than he’s done in weeks, like punching that guy released some of the tension that’s been building up inside him.
Jared smiles back. “I can sleep later,” he says, already getting to his feet. He can hear Mike sigh, but he doesn’t care. Jensen is smiling, and that’s all that matters.
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9