Someone you might have been (part 22 of 39)
I thought I was feeling better but now that the medication has worn off I don't think that's the case anymore. So, I am posting this and running. Comments are disabled because I haven't got around to answering all the comments on the previous chapter and I don't want you lot to think I am not ridiculously grateful to all of you who are reading along by not answering. This is a kind of action-interlude, and action is not my strong point, (seriously, I have to figure out at some point what I think my strong point is), so please bear with me for the next chapter which is plottier again. Hopefully this chapter is written in coherent English but 'writing action' + 'cough medication' = 'nonsensical garbling'. I should stop garbling now, post, and go to bed. You lot = ♥ ♥ ♥
And hey, new people on my flist! I really want to catch up with you some time and say a proper hello but... I'm more like a zombie than a person at the moment so I'll wait 'til I can actually make conversation. :)
Someone you might have been
Secret agent!Jared/Jensen
part twenty-one
Jensen is in the armoured van up ahead, out of sight but most definitely not out of mind. Jared caught a glimpse of him when he came down with Jeff and Schneider to join Glover in the car. Jensen had been cuffed wrists to ankles and accompanied by two agents in the back, and another two up front. He'd looked up, seen Jared and pointedly looked away. Jared guesses he deserves it, even considering Jensen is the guilty one.
They drive along in silence behind the van. Jeff and Schneider keep their eyes on the road ahead, while Glover gazes impassively out of the window. Jared has no idea where they're taking Jensen, only that there will be yet more interrogating to be done when they get there. Jensen has maybe ten years' worth of playing the double to run through for them, and then… Then what?
"How soon before he goes to trial?" Jared says.
Schneider looks to Glover, who ignores him, and then says, "We've got a lot of information to go through yet. We're not there yet."
Jared pauses. He considers Schneider's tone and Glover's careful avoidance, and then gives in to the unsettling doubt he can't shake off. "If he hadn't cooperated, what would have happened to him?"
Silence. Glover turns away from the window and gives Jared a long, grimly expectant look. Jared draws in a terse breath and nods, closes his eyes briefly to regain his composure. He wants this to be over. He wants his most pressing ethical concern to be how low he can realistically keep the body count while still doing his job efficiently and well.
He doesn't want to think about what this being over means for Jensen. He tells himself that this is one of the obvious risks of being a double agent and that Jensen is smart enough to have been aware of it when he signed up. He tells himself that Jensen made his choice and it's not Jared's place to ache for him about it.
Jensen rolled the dice and he lost, end of.
"He is cooperating though," Jeff says. "That's gonna help him."
Jared's grateful for the reassurance but he doesn't like how obvious what he was thinking must have been.
"We might even be able to use him to bring Rosenbaum in," Schneider says. "That'd go a long way to keeping World War Three from happening."
Jared raises an eyebrow. "Rosenbaum's really that big a player?" It's hard to believe of the weird but friendly guy Jared met in Sofia.
"When people say Rosenbaum's crazy, they don't mean in a 'shaving all his hair off' kind of crazy," Schneider says. "He's a real live dog-of-war. It'd be one thing if he was stupid but the guy's got a brain like-"
A truck slams out onto the road in front of them, cutting them off from the armoured van. Their driver barely manages to stop in time and the brakes squeal as the car skids across the road. Long years of experience have Jared reaching for his gun even as he braces himself in his seat.
Deep down, he thinks he might have been expecting something like this.
Maybe he was even hoping for it.
As Jared exits the car, Schneider's calling him - calling him back or trying to give him orders - and Jeff's halfway out behind him. Jared ignores both of them.
Ahead, the cab door of the truck is flung wide and there's no more than a couple of seconds between Jared registering that the guy's holding a semi-automatic and Jared shooting him in the shoulder. The guy does down heavily, a splatter of blood against the rusty, corrugated metal of the truck's side and over the street. Gunfire cracks through the air around Jared as the ISA executives and their agents exchange shots with the guys spilling out of the truck.
Jared's still only interested in getting to the armoured van.
The street runs down beneath a flyover and Jared can just about make out the van. It's stationary and he can see flames in the dusk light. He runs towards it, is almost there, when the rear door flies open and Jensen tumbles out onto his knees. The cuffs are gone and there's blood on Jensen's hands, fresh and wet.
For one moment they're both frozen there: Jensen staring at Jared who's staring at Jensen, neither sure what to do or how to react faced with each other. Then Jensen's up, running scared but fast, heading for the side-streets that wind between the clutter of buildings in this part of town.
Instinctively, Jared raises his gun. It would be a good shot, would plant a bullet right between Jensen's shoulder blades. Definitely fatal, probably quick.
He could make the shot and no one would think he'd done anything wrong; Jensen is an enemy of the state and it's up to Jared to deal with the bad guys.
And considering all the people Jensen's screwed over and are going to be looking for revenge, he might even be doing Jensen a favour.
He should do it. He should shoot. He's wasting time. Just squeeze the trigger.
Do it do it do it - do it before Jeff catches up and does it. Do it before Jensen's out of sight.
Jared lets out a punched-out breath, lowers his gun and chases after Jensen.
:::
Sometimes he loses sight of Jensen completely, and he has to skid to a halt, wait and watch and listen for some idea of where to turn next. Sometimes he's close enough to hear Jensen panting for breath as he runs. Jensen's fast and he's not slowing down, but he's sleep-deprived and, honestly, Jared's just better. He just has to keep going, legs pumping steadily, and run Jensen down.
And sometimes, Jensen looks back over his shoulder, looks right at Jared, and Jared has a moment of not understanding what the hell he's doing, not understanding why Jensen's running from him.
Jensen leads Jared down crowded streets, almost loses him in the gloom of a parking garage, and then scrambles over a chain-link fence to cut through into a warehouse district. It's clear to Jared now that Jensen is not running blindly. Jensen has a destination in mind, he has a plan.
On one hand, he's got to be stopped, but on the other, Jared thinks it's kind of important to know what exactly Jensen's hoping to pull off here.
Their final destination is apparently some rundown, high-rise offices. The smashed windows glint wickedly in the setting sun but it's dark inside. Jensen drags the service door open and disappears through it. So close to what seems to be the end of the road, Jared speeds up. Through the door, Jared finds himself at the foot of a stairwell. Jensen's a little above him - Jared catches a flash of his face looking down at him - and he gets it: Jensen's heading for the roof.
Moving even faster than he had before, Jared charges up the stairs behind Jensen, closing the distance between them. The next time Jensen looks back over his shoulder, Jared's close enough to see how very wide his eyes are, the determined desperation on his face.
And then Jared decides Jensen's just too damn close to the door and, reaching out, he's able to catch Jensen's ankle and haul his leg out from under him. Jensen faceplants with a grunt, but he scrabbles to maintain a handhold on the steps as Jared drags him down. In the struggle, Jensen's still thinking clearly enough to give some direction to his lashing out, and Jared only narrowly manages to avoid a kick in the face. Jared tightens his grip and yanks Jensen towards him, flipping him roughly over onto his back. It's like trying to hold down a wild animal.
"Get the fuck off me!" Jensen snarls.
Jared doesn't dignify it with a response. He's able to get hold of one of Jensen's wrists but it costs him: Jensen backhands him hard across the face and, while pain flares up hotly along Jared's cheek, Jensen follows it up with a calculated kick right to Jared's kneecap. The single second of Jared's hold loosening, even so slightly, is all takes for Jensen to squirm free.
When Jensen throws the door wide, Jared hears it: the beating wind of a helicopter. He's up and after Jensen instantly, skidding through the door onto the roof. The helicopter hasn't landed, is still hovering, and Jensen bows his head into the wind as he races towards it. Through the open side, Jared can see Mike in the helicopter, hands outstretched to pull Jensen in.
It's too late to shoot now. There's no way Jared could get a clear shot off with the helicopter so close. He freezes, gun held against his thigh, frustration making his heartbeat shudder, and can only watch as Jensen nears the helicopter.
"Jensen!" he yells, his voice battling the storm whipped up by the helicopter blades. "Don't do this!"
He doesn't know what he expects but that Jensen actually turns back to look at him is more than he could have hoped for. Jensen is bloodstained and bruised, his t-shirt and pants are scuffed with dirt, but he's still uncomfortably recognisable as Jared's handler.
"For your own safety, get out of ISA," Jensen calls back to him. "And stay away from me."
Then he turns away, reaching up to Mike. He's still hauling himself onto the helicopter even as it rises in the air and then Jared's left alone on the rooftop, in the silence, feeling heavy with grim foreboding.
part twenty-three
And hey, new people on my flist! I really want to catch up with you some time and say a proper hello but... I'm more like a zombie than a person at the moment so I'll wait 'til I can actually make conversation. :)
Someone you might have been
Secret agent!Jared/Jensen
part twenty-one
Jensen is in the armoured van up ahead, out of sight but most definitely not out of mind. Jared caught a glimpse of him when he came down with Jeff and Schneider to join Glover in the car. Jensen had been cuffed wrists to ankles and accompanied by two agents in the back, and another two up front. He'd looked up, seen Jared and pointedly looked away. Jared guesses he deserves it, even considering Jensen is the guilty one.
They drive along in silence behind the van. Jeff and Schneider keep their eyes on the road ahead, while Glover gazes impassively out of the window. Jared has no idea where they're taking Jensen, only that there will be yet more interrogating to be done when they get there. Jensen has maybe ten years' worth of playing the double to run through for them, and then… Then what?
"How soon before he goes to trial?" Jared says.
Schneider looks to Glover, who ignores him, and then says, "We've got a lot of information to go through yet. We're not there yet."
Jared pauses. He considers Schneider's tone and Glover's careful avoidance, and then gives in to the unsettling doubt he can't shake off. "If he hadn't cooperated, what would have happened to him?"
Silence. Glover turns away from the window and gives Jared a long, grimly expectant look. Jared draws in a terse breath and nods, closes his eyes briefly to regain his composure. He wants this to be over. He wants his most pressing ethical concern to be how low he can realistically keep the body count while still doing his job efficiently and well.
He doesn't want to think about what this being over means for Jensen. He tells himself that this is one of the obvious risks of being a double agent and that Jensen is smart enough to have been aware of it when he signed up. He tells himself that Jensen made his choice and it's not Jared's place to ache for him about it.
Jensen rolled the dice and he lost, end of.
"He is cooperating though," Jeff says. "That's gonna help him."
Jared's grateful for the reassurance but he doesn't like how obvious what he was thinking must have been.
"We might even be able to use him to bring Rosenbaum in," Schneider says. "That'd go a long way to keeping World War Three from happening."
Jared raises an eyebrow. "Rosenbaum's really that big a player?" It's hard to believe of the weird but friendly guy Jared met in Sofia.
"When people say Rosenbaum's crazy, they don't mean in a 'shaving all his hair off' kind of crazy," Schneider says. "He's a real live dog-of-war. It'd be one thing if he was stupid but the guy's got a brain like-"
A truck slams out onto the road in front of them, cutting them off from the armoured van. Their driver barely manages to stop in time and the brakes squeal as the car skids across the road. Long years of experience have Jared reaching for his gun even as he braces himself in his seat.
Deep down, he thinks he might have been expecting something like this.
Maybe he was even hoping for it.
As Jared exits the car, Schneider's calling him - calling him back or trying to give him orders - and Jeff's halfway out behind him. Jared ignores both of them.
Ahead, the cab door of the truck is flung wide and there's no more than a couple of seconds between Jared registering that the guy's holding a semi-automatic and Jared shooting him in the shoulder. The guy does down heavily, a splatter of blood against the rusty, corrugated metal of the truck's side and over the street. Gunfire cracks through the air around Jared as the ISA executives and their agents exchange shots with the guys spilling out of the truck.
Jared's still only interested in getting to the armoured van.
The street runs down beneath a flyover and Jared can just about make out the van. It's stationary and he can see flames in the dusk light. He runs towards it, is almost there, when the rear door flies open and Jensen tumbles out onto his knees. The cuffs are gone and there's blood on Jensen's hands, fresh and wet.
For one moment they're both frozen there: Jensen staring at Jared who's staring at Jensen, neither sure what to do or how to react faced with each other. Then Jensen's up, running scared but fast, heading for the side-streets that wind between the clutter of buildings in this part of town.
Instinctively, Jared raises his gun. It would be a good shot, would plant a bullet right between Jensen's shoulder blades. Definitely fatal, probably quick.
He could make the shot and no one would think he'd done anything wrong; Jensen is an enemy of the state and it's up to Jared to deal with the bad guys.
And considering all the people Jensen's screwed over and are going to be looking for revenge, he might even be doing Jensen a favour.
He should do it. He should shoot. He's wasting time. Just squeeze the trigger.
Do it do it do it - do it before Jeff catches up and does it. Do it before Jensen's out of sight.
Jared lets out a punched-out breath, lowers his gun and chases after Jensen.
:::
Sometimes he loses sight of Jensen completely, and he has to skid to a halt, wait and watch and listen for some idea of where to turn next. Sometimes he's close enough to hear Jensen panting for breath as he runs. Jensen's fast and he's not slowing down, but he's sleep-deprived and, honestly, Jared's just better. He just has to keep going, legs pumping steadily, and run Jensen down.
And sometimes, Jensen looks back over his shoulder, looks right at Jared, and Jared has a moment of not understanding what the hell he's doing, not understanding why Jensen's running from him.
Jensen leads Jared down crowded streets, almost loses him in the gloom of a parking garage, and then scrambles over a chain-link fence to cut through into a warehouse district. It's clear to Jared now that Jensen is not running blindly. Jensen has a destination in mind, he has a plan.
On one hand, he's got to be stopped, but on the other, Jared thinks it's kind of important to know what exactly Jensen's hoping to pull off here.
Their final destination is apparently some rundown, high-rise offices. The smashed windows glint wickedly in the setting sun but it's dark inside. Jensen drags the service door open and disappears through it. So close to what seems to be the end of the road, Jared speeds up. Through the door, Jared finds himself at the foot of a stairwell. Jensen's a little above him - Jared catches a flash of his face looking down at him - and he gets it: Jensen's heading for the roof.
Moving even faster than he had before, Jared charges up the stairs behind Jensen, closing the distance between them. The next time Jensen looks back over his shoulder, Jared's close enough to see how very wide his eyes are, the determined desperation on his face.
And then Jared decides Jensen's just too damn close to the door and, reaching out, he's able to catch Jensen's ankle and haul his leg out from under him. Jensen faceplants with a grunt, but he scrabbles to maintain a handhold on the steps as Jared drags him down. In the struggle, Jensen's still thinking clearly enough to give some direction to his lashing out, and Jared only narrowly manages to avoid a kick in the face. Jared tightens his grip and yanks Jensen towards him, flipping him roughly over onto his back. It's like trying to hold down a wild animal.
"Get the fuck off me!" Jensen snarls.
Jared doesn't dignify it with a response. He's able to get hold of one of Jensen's wrists but it costs him: Jensen backhands him hard across the face and, while pain flares up hotly along Jared's cheek, Jensen follows it up with a calculated kick right to Jared's kneecap. The single second of Jared's hold loosening, even so slightly, is all takes for Jensen to squirm free.
When Jensen throws the door wide, Jared hears it: the beating wind of a helicopter. He's up and after Jensen instantly, skidding through the door onto the roof. The helicopter hasn't landed, is still hovering, and Jensen bows his head into the wind as he races towards it. Through the open side, Jared can see Mike in the helicopter, hands outstretched to pull Jensen in.
It's too late to shoot now. There's no way Jared could get a clear shot off with the helicopter so close. He freezes, gun held against his thigh, frustration making his heartbeat shudder, and can only watch as Jensen nears the helicopter.
"Jensen!" he yells, his voice battling the storm whipped up by the helicopter blades. "Don't do this!"
He doesn't know what he expects but that Jensen actually turns back to look at him is more than he could have hoped for. Jensen is bloodstained and bruised, his t-shirt and pants are scuffed with dirt, but he's still uncomfortably recognisable as Jared's handler.
"For your own safety, get out of ISA," Jensen calls back to him. "And stay away from me."
Then he turns away, reaching up to Mike. He's still hauling himself onto the helicopter even as it rises in the air and then Jared's left alone on the rooftop, in the silence, feeling heavy with grim foreboding.
part twenty-three