Fic: Bumfuck, Nowhere. SPN. RPS. Jensen/Jared, Dean/Sam. NC-17 2/5

[felisblanco]

Continued from here.


Soon as they walked in, he noticed the change. For a ghost town the diner had filled up nicely with people chatting, arguing, calling for refills. It all died down the minute they noticed him standing in the doorway. The weight of their stares was staggering. For a moment Jensen contemplated turning around and fleeing to the safety of the house, maybe even just straight to his car and drive the hell out of there.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder and then he felt the heat of Jared’s body as he stepped up behind him. “C’mon,” he said. “There’s a table over there.”

He had no choice but to brace himself as Jared steered him through the crowd. He heard whispers, hissing words he couldn’t make out but could just imagine. Jared as near as pushed him down on a chair before whipping around, giving the room a glare before sitting down across from him, facing the crowd. Like a guard dog.

“Not dead, I see.” Daisy threw Jensen a stiff smile as she slid the menus onto the table. “Was starting to wonder.”

“And don’t you look happy about it.” Jared sighed when she pursed her lips. “Sorry. Can I get my usual and… maybe give him the same as yesterday, eggs scrambled?”

“You sure?” Daisy asked, eyeing Jensen. “Didn’t seem he had much appetite for it.”

“Maybe not be quite as generous this time,” Jensen apologized. “Except with your coffee. Wouldn’t mind plenty of that. Ma’am.”

She nodded, taking back the menus and pushing her way back behind the counter. Jensen could hear someone working in the kitchen and felt relieved that she wasn’t taking care of this crowd on her own. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and when he turned around, he caught Jared shooing someone away who had obviously been approaching from behind Jensen’s back. Soon as Jared noticed Jensen looking, he ran his fingers innocently through his hair, like that was all he’d been up to. Jensen raised his eyebrow then glanced over his shoulder. A man was sitting down again, a scowl on his face.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Jensen said, looking back at Jared. “Really.”

Jared shrugged. “Just thought I’d let you have a cup of coffee at least before heading into battle.”

The turn of phrase made Jensen flinch and for a moment he was somewhere else, bitching to Sam about not even getting coffee before he dragged them off to God knows where. “C’mon, Sammy, just one! I’m dying here!”

Two mugs landed on the table with a loud bang, jerking him back to reality. He grabbed one, gratefully inhaling the bittersweet aroma before taking his first sip. God, it really was good.

His stomach sent him a warning cramp but he ignored it. It was wrong anyway, coffee was exactly what he needed and plenty of it. He drank it down as fast as the burning heat allowed and when he looked up she was already - or maybe still - there, waiting to fill him up.

“Thank you. Sorry, I was…” He stopped; he didn’t know how to explain why he needed caffeine so badly he’d forgotten his manners. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Food will be here in a minute.”

Again he caught Jared shaking his head at someone but this time Jensen didn’t say anything, was just grateful that Jared was holding them off a little longer. The smell of different foods was already making him nauseous. The overhead light buzzing in the kitchen seemed aimed directly at his eyes through the crack in the door, generating a mounting headache.

“You alright?” Jared asked. He kept his voice low, the big hands that rested clasped on the table sliding closer as he leaned forward. “Jensen?”

Jensen nodded. “Just… tired.”

Jared pushed out his lower lip, forehead folding into a frown, like he was contemplating whether to ask or keep his mouth shut. Finally, he landed on, “Dog stops eating, that’s when you know it’s bad.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows at him. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or insulted. “You calling me a dog?”

Jared didn’t smile. “I’m saying, you don’t eat, you don’t have the strength for anything else. Including getting better.”

Jensen didn’t know what to say. “Ah well…”

“And you’re way too thin,” Jared interrupted. “Couldn’t help noticing,” he added, cheeks turning pink when Jensen looked at him. “Earlier.”

It was Jensen’s turn to flush warm. He knew he’d looked better, but it was still humiliating being told so, flat out. Truth was, he’d thought Jared’s discomfort earlier had meant something completely different. “That’s what happens when you don’t eat much,” he said curtly.

Jared just nodded. “That also been going on a month?”

Jensen shrugged. Lack of sleep ruined his appetite. Not to mention the gory nightmares. It all hung together.

“So, what happened a month ago?” Jared asked.

Jensen frowned. Honestly, he hadn’t really thought of what might have brought this on. He’d always had his issues. Always been sensitive to his surroundings, been called names for it he had no interest in sharing. Had always had trouble sleeping, been prone to anxiety, feeling out of sorts. Agoraphobic. Never been particular with his food though, but then again he got taught at an early age he’d get a whooping if he didn’t finish what was put in front of him. A hard lesson to unlearn. Even now he felt anxious, knowing he most likely wouldn’t be able to eat whatever Daisy brought him. A hundred-and-two or not, he bet she yielded a mean whack with her spoon.

But the nightmares had started out of nowhere it seemed, bringing with them a whole new level of issues. Not that he’d been a poster boy for superb mental health before, but those had been his own problems. Not the added weight from another life, another dimension, driving him slowly off the edge.

What had happened a month ago?

Well, his uncle died.

That was the only significant thing he could remember happening. He got the call from the attorney handling his uncle Jack’s estate, letting him know he’d been named in the old man’s last will and testament. He’d known his uncle had money; he just hadn’t realized how damn much. This diner, and half the town apparently, along with the car, had only been a footnote in the old man’s will. Made Jensen feel bad for not showing up to the funeral, but it wasn’t like anyone had notified him, he’d had to read about it in the newspaper. Paid his own respect with a glass of whiskey, alone in his apartment. Same as he did almost every night but still. Truth is, he hadn’t really liked the man that much. Having money hardly ever had a positive effect on people’s characters, and his uncle Jack was no exception. Just because he’d treated Jensen decent didn’t make him a nice person. And he hadn’t been friendly enough for Jensen to expect this. Honestly, when the attorney introduced himself, Jensen thought he was calling on behalf of his father, finally legally disowning him.

Anyway, the nightmares had started around that time. If it was that night or another, he couldn’t remember. He blamed the first one on the car accident he just barely escaped on his way from picking up the Impala from the garage where his uncle had stored it. Some asshole truckdriver ran a red light and if Jensen hadn’t already been slowing down, unsure where he was going, the impact would have killed him. Instead it just clipped the corner of the car, spinning it crazy fast in the middle of the crossroads until it came to a trembling stop, with only a broken light and a small dent, and Jensen suffering nothing more than a slight whiplash and dizziness. Even now he still felt like there’d been a mistake, like he wasn’t supposed to be alive. Like he’d accidentally made a deal with the devil, possibly by mixing curses and the Lord’s name in an unholy prayer as he prepared to die while the car spun like a fidget toy. He would have expected that experience to give him nightmares. Just not… these nightmares. Not only were they terrifying but they were weirdly specific, like he was living someone’s actual really horrible, terrible life.

The second nightmare he blamed on falling asleep while watching a C-rated splatter movie on TV. The third one he blamed on a bad chilidog he bought off a street vendor, mostly because… well, it was really bad and had its messy repercussions. The fourth night he got piss drunk because he was too afraid to go to sleep and by the time he did pass out, he fell right into a demon rape orgy that left him trembling and crying the rest of the night.

After that he gave up on blaming anything but himself. There had to be something he’d done to deserve all that horror. Or maybe his father was right, and he really was headed downstairs, and this was just the preview.

“I don’t know,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Just stopped sleeping.”

“Huh.”

Jared didn’t look like he believed him but right then a lanky guy sauntered over with their food, one plate holding a giant steak and potatoes with a few decorative vegetables. The other held eggs, bacon, sausages and toast, the amount only slightly less than the day before.

Jared smiled. “Hey, Joel. Looks good, as always.”

The guy gave Jensen a curious stare but didn’t say anything, just nodded at Jared before leaving them to their food. Jared instantly started in on his steak, obviously hungry after a full day at the clinic. Again, Jensen hadn’t noticed him smelling any worse than he should. Possibly Jared had showered and changed before coming over.

“Eat.” Jared waved his fork at Jensen’s plate. “I mean it. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re a vet,” Jensen reminded him, but he picked up his fork and pierced it through a piece of bacon. “I’m eating, I’m eating,” he muttered and raised the fork to his mouth. Then stopped. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he closed his eyes, fighting it back.

“Maybe just start with the toast,” he heard Jared say. “Or eggs.”

He nodded. Waited for the nausea to pass then opened his eyes and put his fork down. Picked up the toast and took a tentative bite. Jared was watching him, looking genuinely worried. A warm feeling soaked Jensen’s insides and he looked away. Was a long time since anyone cared whether he lived or died, apart from maybe his doctor.

The bite went down with a sip of coffee, and he continued that way, managing half a slice of toast, a couple of forks of scrambled eggs and a piece of bacon, washing it all down with coffee. When his mug emptied Jared pushed over the glass of water but Jensen was done; although the cool drink felt good sliding down his throat, he couldn’t stomach more food.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” Jared said, shaking his head sadly. He’d already finished his meal and was stealing pieces of bacon off Jensen’s plate. “Guy your size needs more than that to keep going.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jensen said.

They both knew he was lying. He was far from fine. He was already getting tired again. His body felt like lead. He was having trouble thinking. Darkness kept clawing at the edges of his vision. He just wanted to lay his head down on the table and sleep. No, not sleep, sleep only brought him misery. Rest. He wanted to rest. He just needed some goddamn real rest, away from monsters and horror and death.

“So, you’re our new lord and savior?”

The voice was loud, snarky. Angry. Scared. It was that last part that helped Jensen keep his temper. Even if these folks’ predicaments weren’t his fault, he was the one with their homes in his hands. He could sympathize with their situation.

“Wouldn’t quite say that,” he said, slowly turning in his seat.

The man chosen to take the first step was big, burly, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, like most of those other folks. Like Jensen himself. If he hadn’t been an outsider, he would have fit right in. As it was the three dozen or so eyes glaring at him made it clear he was ‘other’ and not welcome.

“Listen,” he said, before anyone had time to start yelling. “I just got here. I had no idea this was the situation. Hell, I don’t even know what the situation is. Give me some time to familiarize myself with it. But I wanna make one thing clear, I’m not throwing anyone out of their home. Alright?”

Most people sat reluctantly back, soothed, at least for the time being. The big burly one still stood there, staring at him. Jensen held his gaze despite the urge to look away. The overhead lights were too bright, they were hurting his eyes, his head. The air was heady with the scents of hardworking people, as well as the mixed smells of different fried, baked, and cooked food, coming from the kitchen. Suddenly he felt like he was suffocating. Felt like everyone was moving in on him, even if they stayed still. Like the room was shrinking. He turned to Jared, knowing he wasn’t just turning his back on a potential threat but being damn rude about it. It couldn’t be helped.

“Can we go?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Jared instantly stood up. He looked tense, like he’d been on edge the whole time, waiting to act if things turned ugly.

Jensen pulled out his wallet, thanking God and Heaven that this time he’d remembered bringing it. “I’ve no idea how much…” he started, embarrassed, realizing he’d never even read the menu, never seen the price of anything he’d been served. He pulled out some bills and put them on the table. His vision was blurry, he couldn’t tell one from another. “That okay?” he asked Jared in a low voice.

Jared quickly took back a couple of bills and shoved them back in Jensen’s hand. “You alright?” he asked, taking Jensen’s elbow when he swayed.

“Can’t see much,” Jensen explained, face heating up. “Vision gets blurry when I’m tired.”

“Jesus,” Jared breathed, and Jensen knew he was thinking of Jensen driving, days on end.

“You heard him, folks,” Jared said out loud. “Nothing to get worked up over, least not yet. He’ll look over the situation, see what if anything needs to be done. For all we know, things might just continue the way they have.”

“Easy for you to say, Padalecki. You ain’t the one drowning in rent!”

Jensen flinched. Goddamn it, he was a fucking landlord. He hated landlords. He’d had his fights with enough of them to know most didn’t care one shit about their tenants. And now he was one of those assholes. God, or rather Uncle Jack, sure had a sick sense of humor.

“Look,” he said, leaning on Jared in a way he hoped wasn’t obvious. “I’ll look into all of it, including the rent. But I can’t promise anything when I don’t know the situation. Alright? Give me some time-”

“How much time?” someone yelled.

“As much time as it takes,” Jared threw back. He was starting to look angry. “We should go,” he said to Jensen, fingers tightening around his elbow. “You need to lie down.”

“I’m alright,” Jensen said but he didn’t argue when Jared steered him through the crowd and out the door, gripping his arm so tight he had no choice but to stay upright.

Soon as they stepped outside Jensen sagged and would have dropped if Jared hadn’t been there to catch him.

“Whoa. You need to sit down?”

“No.” He struggled to straighten up. “Sorry. Just… give me a minute.”

He took a deep breath. It was already growing dark, but the air smelled sweet, of a sunny day been and gone. Jensen closed his eyes. He didn’t know why but he had this sudden longing to find a field, or a hill, somewhere they could lie down and watch the stars as the world grew quiet all around them. It felt like déja-vu, like something he’d never experienced nor probably ever would but was still there, in his memories. The darkness, the stars, Jared - or more likely Sam - by his side. Feeling content, almost happy, despite the ever-present dread he could never shake off, the horrors he couldn’t forget.

“Hey,” Jared said, nudging him back to reality. “You with me? Where did you go just now?”

Jensen thought of telling him: ‘We were watching the stars,’ but instead he shook his head and said, “Nowhere. Was just enjoying the quiet.”

“Okay.” Jared looked dubious but he didn’t ask further even if Jensen suddenly wished he would. He’d kept the source of his troubles to himself, save a few awkward confessions to his doctors, but suddenly he wanted to talk. Wanted to tell someone about Sam and Dean and the way they sacrificed themselves, body and soul, for the world, for each other, every single night.

God, he must really be losing his mind.

“We can sit out on your back porch for a while, if you want,” Jared said. “There’s a swing.”

Jensen smiled. “That would be nice,” he admitted. “Don’t really wanna go back to bed yet.”

“No wonder. You just got up.”

“I’m like an old lady,” Jensen complained as they made their way slowly to his home - as it was now, he guessed, if only temporarily - one house over. “Don’t know what the heck’s wrong with me.”

“Exhaustion from lack of sleep, malnourishment bordering on starvation, severe dehydration. Possible depression,” Jared said, gentling his tone on the last word.

“Still not a dog,” Jensen said but he didn’t deny any of it. “Don’t got anything to be depressed about,” he still felt he should mention once they were sitting on the swing. Nothing personal, he meant. He had money, he had a home - several it seemed -he had food on his table. Nightmares aside, he didn’t really have any right to complain.

“Depression doesn’t really care about reasons,” Jared pointed out, putting his arm around Jensen’s shoulders. For warmth or to steady him, Jensen didn’t know and didn’t really care. It was nice either way. “It’s shitty like that.”

“I guess.” He gazed up at the sky. It wasn’t really clear enough for stargazing, but he still caught glimpses of a few sparkling lights, peeking out between the clouds. “Why are you being so nice?” he asked.

Jared shrugged. Jensen could feel it along his side, in the warm arm pulling him tighter. “I’m a nice guy.”

Jensen smiled. “I’ve noticed.” His eyelids were growing heavy, but he didn’t want to go in just yet. He didn’t want to fall asleep. He didn’t want to go back there.

“I have these dreams,” he blurted out before he knew what he was doing. “Nightmares. That’s why… They’re exhausting.”

“Okay.” Jared turned his head, his breath sliding along Jensen’s cheek. “Wanna tell me about them?”

Jensen shrugged, like he wasn’t vibrating with the need to let it all out. “It’s stupid. I mean, they make no sense.”

“So? Last night I dreamt I was a movie star. Doesn’t get much more ridiculous than that.”

Jensen chuckled, the tension letting go an inch or so. “Okay,” he relented. “So, it’s like… I’m not me, I’m someone else, but he still feels like me, you know? Or I feel like him. I don’t know.”

Jared nodded in encouragement.

Jensen swallowed. “And there’s this other guy, Sam.” He stopped. He could still see Sam’s face as he died last night. The blood. The terror frozen in his dead, blank eyes.

“It’s okay,” Jared said gently. “You can tell me.”

Jensen shifted closer, stealing more of Jared’s warmth. “Every night,” he said, staring up at the dark sky, “we gear up, and we go fight monsters. Horrible, terrible… I’m talking fucking terrifying things. That’s what those nightmares are about, us fighting them. And…” Jensen closed his eyes. His breath hitched. “Every night I lose him.”

“Sam? He dies?” Jared’s voice was quiet.

“We both die,” Jensen told him, and Jared’s grip tightened around his shoulders. “Only difference is who goes first. Last night it was him. Some kind of ghoul ripped him to shreds. Tore the scream right out of his lungs. He was screaming my name, Dean’s name, that’s the name of my other… you know. Sam was begging him for help when…” He stopped. Wiped at his eyes with his fingers. His hands were shaking. “Anyway, was only a moment before they took me out as well. Was nothing I could do.”

“Shit.”

Jensen wet his lips. His throat was so dry, his vocal cords felt like beef jerky. “I don’t care that much about dying. Or rather Dean, the man I am in these dreams, doesn’t. He expects it, like it’s what’s supposed to happen. But…” Jensen squeezed his eyes tighter, the pain as devastating now as every time he had to witness it. “Not Sam. Sam is supposed to live. That’s what it’s all for, that’s why Dean fights, so Sam can live. But he never does. Even when I die first, I always know Sam will be killed a few seconds later. And then…” Jensen’s hands curled into fists. “Then we get sent to Hell.”

Jared’s fingernails dug sharp into Jensen’s shoulder. “What? Jesus! Why?”

Jensen shrugged. “Guess that’s just how the story goes.” He opened his eyes, staring up at the clouded sky. “We don’t even go together, we get send to different parts of Hell.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s the worst part, losing Sam. Forever.”

“He must be really special,” Jared said softly.

The fact that he treated the insane story he was hearing as if it was real, as if Jensen was talking about real people, talking about losing someone he actually loved…

Jensen’s chest jumped as his breath hitched in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes. His lips shook. “I love him so much,” he whispered. “I mean Dean, he loves Sam so much. I can feel it, in my own heart. It’s killing me. He literally can’t live without him. Sam is his whole world. And every night, my dreams rip them apart.”

“Hey, no.” Jared ducked his head to catch Jensen’s eyes. “Don’t say that. If you were doing any of this on purpose, you wouldn’t be practically killing yourself over it.” He pulled Jensen closer. “Maybe you were just chosen to tell their story.”

“They’re not real. I know they’re not real.” He felt a stab in his heart as he said it. Like he was betraying them. Dean did feel absolutely real, as real as Jensen himself, and Sam… Sam was the love of Dean’s life. More than that. He was so much more. He was Dean’s everything. “Even if I believed in past lives and all that, which I don’t, they live in a world of monsters. Of apocalypses, and horrors and actual Hell! It’s all fantasy, I know that. I just don’t understand why I have to-”

The words choked in his throat, and he leaned back, Jared’s arm a warm line along his shoulders, Jared’s body a furnace by his side. God, he was so tired. He was just so very, very tired.

They fell into silence. Jensen’s eyelids dropped shut again but the memory of Sam’s latest death kept him from falling asleep. It had been bloody, gory, excruciating to watch. Claws through his guts, insides turned out, Sam’s desperate cry suddenly cut off, leaving only silence. And then Dean’s screams.

“Tell me about them,” Jared asked softly, as if he could tell Jensen was once again disappearing. “Sam and Dean. What are they like?”

Jensen fought his eyes open. “Uh, Dean, he’s me. I mean, he looks like me, but more built, not…” He waved at his wiry body, not caring that the comparison wasn’t in his favor. “He loves classic cars and mullet rock and coffee, and he drinks way too much.” Like me, he didn’t add, before I stopped being able to stomach it. Some things were too shameful to share. “Can’t blame him, he’s got a lot of sorrows to drown. He thinks he’s a bad person, but I don’t think he is, even if I know he’s done bad things. Even if…”

Jensen fell silent. He thought of Dean’s secret feelings. His secret thoughts. Well, fuck it. Jensen didn’t ask to be burdened with them, and truth was, he needed to talk about them with someone.

“He loves Sam with a passion that borders on obsession,” he admitted. “I’m not sure why but… it feels like they’ve known each other forever. Like maybe they grew up together. Almost like they could be brothers, but if they are...” He looked down, self-conscious. “Every time Dean is dying, his deepest regret is that he never kissed Sam.”

Jared pulled in a breath. “Oh wow. That’s…” He cleared his throat. Shifted a little closer. “I know it’s tragic but… it’s still kinda beautiful.”

Jensen blinked, surprised. He hadn’t really expected Jared to understand. “Thank you. God, my doctor thought I was confessing something when I told him. He kept asking me if I was abused by my brother as a child. Like… Ugh. No, man. No.”

Jared chuckled. When Jensen glanced over, Jared was watching him, lips smiling, eyes intrigued. “Tell me about Sam.”

To his horror Jensen could feel his cheeks heat up. “Uhm,” he said, rubbing his hands togethers. “Actually - and this is gonna sound really creepy, but I swear it’s just a coincidence - Sam kinda looks like you. I mean,” he backpaddled when Jared stilled by his side, “I’ve never actually seen his face, it’s always blurry, but he’s tall and muscular and with the hair...” He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Earlier, when you came to get me, and I saw you standing in the doorway… I realized that’s why you felt so familiar. Your built, the way you move… Like, it’s uncanny.”

“Huh.” Jared was silent for a long while. “So, you think you’re Dean and I’m Sam?” he finally asked.

“Look like Sam! And no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…” He cringed. “Forget it. Don’t listen to me, man, I’m half-crazy by now.”

Jared shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy. Tell me more. About Sam. Who’s not me.” He shot Jensen a smile.

“Uhm, okay,” Jensen said, picking at the hole in the knee of his jeans. “Sam… Sam is kind of a nerd. I don’t mean that in a bad way, he’s just very smart. Reads a lot. I like to tease him about it. I feel… I mean, Dean feels that Sam deserved better. That’s the tragedy of this whole thing, them dying like that, after a life of nothing but horror. How much Dean wants more for Sam and then he never gets it.” He sighed. “Dean can’t stop feeling responsible for Sam. That’s mostly where I get the brothers vibe from. Like it’s always been that way, since they were small. He wants Sam to get out of the life they’re living, get away from the monsters. Even if it means them splitting up, going their separate ways. Even if it will kill him, letting Sam go.”

“Why would he want to go? I mean, doesn’t Sam love Dean back?”

Jensen wagged his head. “I think they both love each other to an unhealthy degree. I mean, the desperation in Sam’s eyes every time he has to watch Dean die, it’s telling. But I don’t know if Sam, you know, loves Dean. Like that. I think that’s what makes Dean hold back, that he doesn’t know, like he thinks maybe it’s just him. Or maybe he holds back because they really are brothers.” He chuckled even if it wasn’t funny.

Jared looked at him. “Doesn’t sound like it would freak you out if they were.”

Jensen shrugged, although he could feel his face heating again. “I guess it’s different because I can feel Dean’s… I can feel Dean. There’s nothing bad in how he feels. It’s just love. Mad, desperate, all-consuming… but still just love. I guess that’s why… It’s hard to feel disgust about something like that.”

Jared nodded. Jensen followed his gaze, up at the stars he knew were there, at the moon that was rising across the vast sky, big and yellow, mostly hidden behind clouds. “I hope Sam loves Dean back,” Jared said. “Even if he never gets that kiss.”

The lump hurt Jensen’s throat. “It doesn’t bother you, not even them both being guys?” he asked cautiously.

Jared shrugged. “Would be a bit hypocritical of me if it did,” he said quietly.

“Oh.” Jensen bit his lip. He leaned closer. “Yeah, me too.”

When he glanced over, Jared was smiling.

That night Dean died choking on his own blood from a knife stuck in his throat, while Sam crawled across the dirt floor of some dark cave, crying out Dean’s name. Crying, ‘Please, please, please no!’ Reaching for Dean’s paralyzed body while coughing up blood until he collapsed, the light going out in his eyes. Dean let out a wet sob and the world went dark.

They started the torture by ripping out every single one of his ribs.

The sun was still high in the sky when Jensen made his way slowly down the stair, holding the banister the whole way. For the first time he glanced around, giving himself a moment to take in his new home, as it looked like it was going to be, at least for a while. He wasn’t driving anywhere in the state he was in, and he had nothing waiting for him at home anyway, except an empty apartment and loud neighbors.

The kitchen was bright and clean, if rather disturbingly pink. Same with the living room through which he’d been carried, rather than walked, as Jared got him in from the porch and up to bed last night. Pink walls, red velvet couch and chairs. Cheap reprints of landscape paintings on the walls where there had, in all likelihood, previously hung family portraits. The whole house smelled of old woman, like roses and face powder.

Lace curtains covered the living room windows. Jensen pulled them aside, leaning heavily on the windowsill. The town seemed as empty as always on the other side of the glass, apart from an elderly couple strolling along as if they had nothing better to do, and Jared, long legs making their way from the diner over to a blue house on the other side of the street. The sign above the door said: “Veterinary Clinic. For Creatures Great and Small.”

Jensen hesitated. He should probably go to the diner first, get himself something to eat. Or at least coffee. Then he remembered the welcoming crowd the day before. The thought of facing that kind of animosity again, this time on his own, didn’t sit well. Especially since he felt even worse today.

So much worse.

If things continued the way they were going, he was going to succumb. Go into shock, body shut down, heart stop. Something like that. He had no illusions about his prognosis. He was already hallucinating, seeing shadows at the corners of his vision that had no explanation, feeling like they were watching him. He couldn’t shake the fear that they were monsters that had found some way to get through to this world. To drag him down to Hell. It was crazy but then he felt crazy. On the brink of losing his grip on this reality and tumbling into the other one.

But not yet.

He closed and locked the door behind him, pausing a moment with his head resting against the door as he waited for the world to stop spinning. Then he stumbled rather than stepped off the front porch and headed across the street, ignoring the big blue sky gazing down at him. Luckily there was no traffic since he put the old couple to shame as the slowest pedestrian in town.

A small bell pinged above the door as Jensen stepped into the clinic. The interior smelled of disinfectant and animals, and he got now why Jared had been so concerned about smelling bad. There was no one behind the counter but the door hadn’t even fallen shut when Jared stuck his head out of a room in the back. His face instantly lit up.

“Hey! You’re up! And it’s only a little past noon! Congratulations!”

“Funny,” Jensen huffed. He aimed for one of the chairs lined up against the wall, collapsing into it with a thump. “You busy?” He could hear a cat meow somewhere in the back, what sounded like a goat slightly further away.

Jared was watching him, forehead creased. “No, things are quiet. It’s that time of year.”

Jensen nodded. He had no idea why that mattered, except lambing was in the spring, right? He had to admit he knew very little about farming.

“How are you feeling?” Jared asked, rounding the counter to stand before Jensen, like a tower of concern. “I hate to say it, but you actually look worse.”

“Thanks.” Jensen rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t bothered shaving and the stubble rasped his palm.

Jared crouched before him. “Bad night?”

Jensen snorted. “They’re all bad, but yeah. Hell was particularly-” He stopped abruptly. Couldn’t get the words out. Although he’d always despised sexual violence, he’d never really understood its horror until it was happening to him. Nightly. Most times with his bones broken and his skin flayed into ribbons. “Don’t ask,” he pleaded. “I can’t talk about it.”

Jared took a step closer. He looked like he wanted to say something but then he looked away, biting his lip. “Eaten yet?” he finally asked.

Jensen shook his head. Then had to lean forward and put his head in his hands as the room started spinning.

“Here.”

A glass of water appeared before him and he managed to straighten himself up before accepting it gratefully, drinking it in small sips. Jared caught the empty glass, just before it slipped out of Jensen’s trembling grip.

“Good. Now I only need you to drink seven more of these before you go back to bed.”

Ugh. “Yes, doc.”

Jared smiled. “Not a doctor but I do know some things. After all, humans are just another kind of animal, although generally with more problems.”

“Mental?” Jensen guessed, tipping his head back against the wall.

“Well, yeah,” Jared acknowledged, “but also because we’re very badly designed as a species. Our spine alone is a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

Jensen found himself smiling despite everything. “You wanna sue God?”

“Not me, but someone should. I’m not kidding, really shoddy design compared to more superior animals.” Jared tsked. “Hey, come in with me for a moment. I wanna check some things.”

Jensen hesitated. “How great are we talking in ‘creatures great and small’?”

Jared laughed. “Not that great in here. I keep the dragons in the shed outside.”

“Okay then.” Jensen stood up, swaying as he found his balance. He waved Jared away when he stepped forward, ready to catch him. “I’m alright. Lead the way.”

Jared seemed unconvinced but he walked into the next room, checking over his shoulder to make sure Jensen followed. The examination room was sparkly clean, the lights bright enough that Jensen ducked his head, squinting against the glare. Jared pointed at a chair and Jensen collapsed into it with a groan. His head dropped back against the wall. His eyelids felt so damn heavy. He could feel darkness tugging at him, trying to pull him back in, and weakly told it to fuck off.

“I’m just gonna take your blood pressure and check some things.”

“I’m not a dog.” Jensen felt sure he’d already said, but it clearly needed repeating.

“I know that,” Jared chuckled. “Roll up your sleeve.”

“Sure you got a cuff that fits?” Jensen said, numb fingers fumbling to unbutton his sleeve. “I’m slightly bigger than your pets.”

“Are you bigger than a horse?” Jared asked, deftly rolling up the sleeve for him before wrapping the cuff around Jensen’s bicep.

“Depends, uh, depends on which part you’re talking about,” Jensen mumbled. He thought he heard Jared snort a laugh. His head felt really heavy. His stomach was a twisted mess. He probably should have eaten something before he walked over. He was sure he could hear the darkness snicker as it reached out its claws. “Jesus, I’m so fucking tired,” he whispered.

“I know. I know, Jen.”

Jared’s warm hand palmed his forehead. The darkness jerked back, as if pushed, and Jensen sighed in relief, but before he could lean into the warmth, Jared’s hand was gone. Jensen let out a small sound of disappointment before he realized Jared had only been checking him for a fever. His cheeks warmed. God, he really was pathetic.

There was a brief silence and then the side of his face was gently cupped, as if in apology, and that same warmth enveloped his cheek. “I’m just gonna check some things and then we’ll go have coffee,” Jared said softly, running his thumb over Jensen’s cheekbone, light as a feather. “Okay?”

Jensen swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay.”

He sat with his eyes closed as Jared pumped up the cuff then let the air out while lightly touching his wrist, feeling his pulse. His mind was starting to drift when he felt a sharp sting in his finger, then it was squeezed, for a drop of blood Jensen assumed. He heard Jared step away for a moment before returning, pinching the skin on the back of Jensen’s hand, humming as if Jensen was somehow disappointing him. Oh well, he was used to that.

“You’re still really dehydrated,” Jared said. He sounded worried. “And your blood pressure is so low I’m surprised you’re still standing. Well, sitting.” Jared pried one of Jensen’s eyes open, making him wince at the bright light. “Sorry. Wow, your eyes are really green in this light,” he said quietly, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Also really hurting,” Jensen complained, wrenching away from the light. “What exactly are you looking for?” he asked, squinting up at Jared as his eyes adjusted.

“Just checking your vitals, comparing them to what they should be in a human.” Jared shook his head, lips thin. “Jensen, they’re not good. Your blood sugar is dangerously low. Same with your heart rate. Basically, you’re low in everything you shouldn’t be.”

Jensen gave him a tired smile. “Time to put me down?”

Jared didn’t smile back. “Please don’t talk like that. Jensen, this is really serious. You should be in a hospital. At the very least you need sleep. Without nightmares.”

“I’d love that.” To his horror he felt tears prickle his eyes. “I wish I could, man. Just one night without…” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” Jared lay a hand on Jensen’s knee. It felt huge, warm. “Also, you are starving. I mean that literally. You really should be in a hospital, with an IV pumping nutrients straight into your veins. I’m surprised your doctor let you go on this trip.”

Jensen squirmed. “I might not have told him. Or anyone.” Truth is, in his heart, he didn’t expect himself to return.

Jared sighed. He didn’t look surprised. “Jesus, you’re an idiot. What if you’d crashed your car?” He reached behind him for a plastic bottle. “Here. Protein shake. Packed full with everything you should have been getting this last month. It’s my go-to for when I’m too busy to eat properly. I made this one especially for you this morning so you better drink it.”

Jensen eyed it warily. “My doctor tried to make me drink something like this,” he said with a grimace. “I kept throwing them up.”

“Well, this one tastes like coffee,” Jared said with a grin, pushing the bottle at Jensen until he was forced to take it.

“Huh.” Jensen snapped up the cap and took a sniff, then a tentative sip. He quirked an eyebrow. “Not too bad,” he lied.

Jared’s smile was as wide as the ocean. “Finish that and I’ll buy you some real joe.”

They sat in comfortable silence as Jensen sipped his power shake, forcefully suppressing his gag reflex. The shake didn’t taste anything like real coffee, just like cherry soda didn’t taste anything like fresh cherries. But if drinking it made Jared smile like that, well, then that’s what Jensen would do.

“Feel better?” Jared asked when Jensen handed him the empty bottle.

Jensen smiled and nodded, swallowing with considerable effort the bile crawling up his throat. “So, real coffee?”

“And food,” Jared said as he stood up.

Jensen sighed. The thought alone made his stomach revolt. “Jared…”

“Just some toast. Try.” Jared gazed down at him. His eyes turned big and soft. He reminded Jensen of a puppy begging for food at the table. “For me, okay?”

Well, there was no way he could say no to that. “Okay. Toast.”

Jared’s face lit up as he offered Jensen a hand. “And then we’ll figure out what to do about your sleep,” he said, hauling Jensen to his feet.

Jensen shot Jared a quick smile. “Sure,” he said and didn’t remind him that so far three actual doctors had failed to find a solution. “That would be a lucky break,” he still couldn’t help adding in case Jared got his hopes up, only to have them crushed when Jensen finally lost his mind, or died, whichever came first.

“Luck already brought you here,” Jared said. Then checked himself, cheeks turning slightly pink. “Not that your uncle dying was a good thing to happen. That came out wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jensen said. “Old man was kind of a bastard.”

His stomach suddenly lurched, turned and twisted. He excused himself and stumbled to the bathroom Jared pointed him to, only just getting there in time to throw up every ounce of that awful shake.

When Jensen came back out, head slightly swimming, Jared was standing by a crate, obliviously scratching a big black cat under its chin. Or maybe not so oblivious, judging by the added line of worry on his forehead. “Alright?” he asked, ignoring the cat playfully gnawing his finger.

Jensen nodded, shivering from the sweat still running down his spine. “Shall we?” he said and hoped Jared couldn’t smell the puke on his breath.

Soon as they opened the door the bright sun slammed a spike of pain right into his brain, making him stumble back and bump into Jared. He smiled when Jensen apologized but the line of worry was still there, deepening. Jensen ducked his head, shielding his eyes with his hand. It trembled. Jared eyed that, too, but didn’t say anything.

They were crossing the road, Jared’s hand hovering by Jensen’s elbow, when a pickup truck sped toward them, coming to a screeching halt inches away. Jensen lost his balance but Jared caught him quickly, fingers wrapping long and strong around Jensen’s bicep, jerking him close against his side.

“What the hell, Boyd?” Jared yelled at the man glaring at them from the rolled down window. “Watch where you’re going!”

“You sure seem awfully buddy-buddy with the new town lord there, Padalecki,” Boyd growled. “You cooking some scheme? Planning to buy out the rest of the town?”

“Seriously?” Jensen said, more on Jared’s behalf than his own. He’d known Jared for five minutes and could already tell the guy was too nice to swindle a millionaire out of a nickel. “Are you drunk?”

The man’s face went purple. He threw the car door open but before he had time to step out Jared had slammed it closed again, only just missing the man’s fingers.

“You better think before you do anything stupid,” Jared warned him.

“I’d say you’re the one not thinking,” said another voice. Jensen turned his head to see a couple of men he recognized from yesterday’s trouble, coming their way. One of them the big, burly guy. Great. “What you doing, boy, getting messed up with a city slicker?”

City slicker? Really? Jensen would laugh if the sudden instream of adrenalin wasn’t making him feel so damn dizzy. He swayed, bumping into Jared who instantly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, steadying him.

“We just wanna word,” the big one said, cracking his knuckles. “Step away, and we won’t hurt you, son.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jared said incredulous, pulling Jensen tighter. It felt like being hugged by a warm, gentle boulder. “Use your eyes, Bud, then tell me you wanna beat this man to the ground!”

Bud frowned, and for the first time gave Jensen a proper look over, the frown deepening as he took in what Jensen knew was a sorry sight. Pale face, bruises under his eyes, mouth tight with pain. Haggard. Weak. Jensen stared defiantly back, daring him to say something.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bud asked Jared, then Jensen, “What’s wrong with you? Ackles, is it? You look like hell, boy.” Seemed tact wasn’t Bud’s strong suit.

“Funny you should say that,” Jensen muttered. He felt humiliated. He’d push Jared away and storm off if he could. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

His knees picked that moment to buckle, and he instinctively grabbed hold of Jared’s waist. Jared easily hauled him back up, like he was a sack of potatoes. Jesus, what a spectacle he was making.

“I already told you folks I would look into what’s going on here,” Jensen snapped, face burning. “Just give me some time.”

“Hmm.” Bud looked thoughtful. Then he nodded and stepped back. “Get yourself sorted, then we’ll talk. Tomorrow?”

“He’s not gonna miraculously improve by tomorrow, Bud,” Jared protested.

Jensen raised a hand to silence him. “It’s okay,” he said, even if they both knew he’d probably be worse the next day, if even still around.

They stood silent as Bud and his silent sidekick walked off while Boyd grudgingly drove away.

“I’m not a child, you know,” Jensen said, sense barely reining in his temper. It would do him no good to get angry. He still needed Jared’s help. “I can fight my own battles.”

Jared didn’t answer. He looked tall, powerful, possessive, glaring after the receding men with the ferocity of a mama bear, daring anyone to attack her cub. When he dropped his gaze, straight into Jensen’s eyes, Jensen almost stepped back. He felt something shift in his chest. His anger faded, replaced with something he didn’t quite know what to call. He hadn’t been in this situation, ever. Being looked after.

“C’mon,” Jared said, voice soft enough that Jensen felt a quiver run down his spine. “Let’s get you that coffee. Then we’ll talk about what a stubborn ass you’re being.”

Jensen was too tired to argue. Not like Jared was wrong.

Daisy gave them a nod when they entered. The place was thankfully bereft of angry townsfolks as lunch had already come and gone, and Jared steered Jensen over to the same table they’d sat at that first night. Guess Jensen had been right in it being Jared’s regular.

“Daisy, darling,” Jared said, keeping his voice low. “Bring us some coffee, please. And some buttered toast for my friend here.”

Friend.

Jensen looked up, catching Jared’s eye. Jared smiled as he slid into the seat across. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jensen said. He couldn’t tell Jared why that word meant so much to him. Friend. It curled up in his chest, around his heart, like a small dragon guarding its hoard. Friend. “Thanks.”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

Everything. “Out there, getting them off my back. Not that I particularly liked being declared too weak to defend my own honor,” he added with a grimace.

Jared frowned. “That’s not what I meant. You’re not weak, Jen. But you’re not alright. And damn if I’m gonna let some bullies beat up a man that can’t defend himself. Not because you’re weak,” he stressed. “I mean, hell, you haven’t slept or eaten properly in a month. If you really were weak, you’d be dead.”

Jensen shifted in his seat. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “Not a month. I mean, it started about a month ago but it’s not like I’ve been wide awake while starving myself the whole time.”

“Still. I’d be on the floor a crying, dribbling mess if that was me.” Jared gave Daisy a smile as she shuffled her way over with their coffee. “I need my eight hours sleep and three thousand calories a day to stay sane.”

“Three thousand? That’s a vague estimate,” Daisy snorted. “Your friend inhales close to half a cow every time he comes over,” she told Jensen with a wrinkled wink, and there was that word again. Friend.

He was smiling before he even realized. “I bet,” he said. “Can’t maintain all that,” he waved at Jared, “without proper fuel.”

Daisy chuckled when Jared’s face turned pink. “Mister, watch out, or I might be forced to like you. And I’m not sure yet that’s in my best interest.”

That sobered him up. “Daisy, I swear to you, I’m not taking anything away from you. Not your home, not this place, nothing but maybe a few gallons of your coffee.” He gave her a reassuring smile and took a sip from his coffee mug. Burning hot and black as tar. Heaven.

Her lip wobbled. Jensen reached out, alarmed, hand hovering over her small wrinkly fist. Christ, if he made a hundred-and-fifty-year-old woman cry he might as well go shoot himself. “If you say so,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced.

“I do. Nothing’s gonna change unless you want it to,” Jensen assured her. “I’ll sort everything out, I promise.”

She bit her lip then nodded at the mug he’d already half emptied. “You keep living on nothing but caffeine you might not get a chance to,” she said, and this time there was real concern in her voice. “You’re starting to resemble a ghost, boy, and that’s a bad look for a face that pretty.”

Jensen flushed warm. “I’ll write up a will, make sure all’s as it should be,” he said. “Just in case.”

Her eyes widened, and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. “Sweet lord, is it that serious?”

“No! Of course not,” he backpedaled. “Don’t you worry. I’m not dying any time soon. Just been feeling under the weather. I’m sure it will clear up any day now.”

She didn’t look convinced but patted his arm and said, “Alright, dear.” Then turned to Jared, a stern look on her face. “You look after him, kid.”

“I plan to,” Jared said, and, when Jensen met his eyes, they were dark with worry and something else. Something like that mama bear earlier.

“On that note, I might need some help,” Jensen said in a low tone, soon as Daisy had moved off, “looking through them files. Forgot my reading glasses at home,” he joked since they both knew that wasn’t why.

“Sure.” Jared smiled a little. “If you trust me with your papers.”

“Trusting you with my life at the moment,” Jensen pointed out, rather melodramatically, although it felt true. “Some pieces of paper don’t matter much compared to that.”

“Alright.” Jared looked away, but not before Jensen caught the discomfort in his eyes. Like he hadn’t expected Jensen to be aware of just how serious his situation was, and now he didn’t quite know what to say. Guess it was different when your patients weren’t blissfully unaware of what was happening to them.

Daisy brought them refills for their coffee and Jensen a plate with warm toast, each topped with a square of melting butter. “It’s home baked so you better eat up,” she told Jensen sternly, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t hungry, that he didn’t expect to eat more than half a slice of the three she’d given him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, surprising himself with the twang in his tone. He’d thought he’d lost it some time ago. Guess some things were harder to run from than others.

“Tell me something,” Jared said, watching him nibble at the corner of a slice of toast. “Something you and Dean have in common.”

Jensen contemplated the question while he chewed and swallowed with the help of a generous gulp of his coffee. The bread was good. He wished he could enjoy it. “Well, this for one,” he said, raising his mug. “His addiction is, if anything, worse than mine.”

Jared chuckled. “Not sure that’s possible. Go on. What else?”

“The car,” Jensen told him. “Same. Except his trunk is full of weapons for killing monsters while mine… Well, you saw. Nothing deadly in there except maybe the tire iron. And…” He looked away, embarrassed. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

Jensen glanced over at Daisy and quickly took another bite as she sent him a glare. Jared waited patiently as he forced it down before admitting, “There’s a toy soldier stuck in the ashtray in Dean’s car. It feels really important to him, for some reason. You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” Jensen said, laughing self-consciously, “but I checked to see if it was there. In my car. Stupid, I know. Of course, it's not. It’s not actually the same car. Just the same make and model.”

“Chevy?” Jared was obviously guessing. He didn’t seem to be a car enthusiastic, judging by the beat-up truck he had parked in front of his house.

“Yeah. A ’67 Chevy Impala. It’s a beast to drive, guzzles gasoline like you wouldn’t believe. I’m surprised I don’t get environmentalists shouting obscenities at me every time I have to fill her up.”

“Her?” Jared asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jensen could feel his face warm. “Dean calls her Baby. It somehow rubbed off on me.”

“What does he call Sam?”

The question caught him off guard. Sam’s face flashed before his eyes, bloody and screaming and then… Jensen sucked in his breath, blinking to clear the tears that had sprung up, uninvited. “Sammy,” he said hoarsely. “He calls him Sammy.”

Jared reached over in alarm, taking his hand. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out.” He squeezed Jensen’s hand, smiling reassuringly, and Jensen had to look away before he burst out crying. Jared let him go and pushed the glass of water towards him. “Glass number two. Drink up.”

“Ugh.” But he drank and it tasted wonderful. Jared refilled the glass soon as it emptied, and Jensen sipped until the last drop but lifted his hand in protest when Jared made to fill it again. “Later,” he promised.

Jared nodded. “Eat more toast,” he said, nodding at the slices of bread still waiting. “Or I could ask Daisy for some eggs. They’ve got protein and… stuff.”

“Stuff? Sounds yummy.” Jensen shook his head. “This is fine.” He took another bite, chewing slowly. He wished he could enjoy Daisy’s freshly baked bread without feeling like he was choking.

“Listen,” Jared said. He sounded hesitant and when Jensen looked up at him he was rubbing his chin, looking almost shy. “I need to make a few house calls. Got a mare getting ready to foal I should check on, and an old dog that hates car rides but needs to get his shots. Should only take an hour or two.”

“That’s okay.” Jensen smiled, hoping his disappointment didn’t show. “I should probably go lie down anyway.” That was true. He could feel exhaustion pulling at his chest, his head, the weight of his limbs.

“I was thinking maybe you could come with me?” Jared smiled in encouragement. “Could do you some good. Get some fresh air. See the sights. Pet some animals. I hear it’s therapeutic.”

More vastness. More endless sky. Jensen hesitated but Jared’s warm gaze won out. “Okay.”

Jared’s smile lit up the whole room. “Yeah?”

Jensen nodded. “Sure. Who knows, maybe you’ll lull me to actual sleep. Driving with my mom always used to knock me straight out.”

Jared grimaced. “Well, I don’t know about that. My truck ain’t exactly built for comfort.”

“We can take my car,” Jensen offered. “She may be loud but she’s a dream to drive.”

“She’s gonna smell like farm,” Jared warned but he looked excited. “You’re not driving.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I realize that. Here.” He pulled the keys out of his jacket pocket. “Just make sure you treat her like a lady.”

Jared snatched the keys with a smirk. “Don’t really have much experience in that area. How about I treat her like a beautiful gentleman?”

To his embarrassment Jensen could feel himself flushing hot, his cheeks warming to the point of burning. “That works too, I guess,” he said, holding Jared’s gaze. Were they…?

Jared threw back his head and laughed.

Jensen shook himself. He was being stupid. Life didn’t work that way. And besides, he needed a friend much more than he needed…

“Shall we?” he asked and slid out of the booth. The coffee, and well, toast, must have done him some good because he managed to stand with only a sight waver, even if he was so tired he could hardly breathe.

Jared got out of the booth and slung an arm casually around Jensen’s shoulders. As if they were just pals being friendly, and Jared wasn’t holding him steady as they crossed the floor. “Just need to get my gear. And a couple of bottles of water.”

Jensen sighed but he’d promised. If only to make Jared happy.

Continued here.