Fic: 'Richardson, Or Thereabouts' (1/3)
IT'S DONE! I can't believe it!
*****
Title: Richardson, Or Thereabouts
Author: Never
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: Hard R
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Warning: AU.
Summary: File Brief: Unidentified being J6RX, self-identified as Jensen, was retrieved from the crash site at 0200 hours. It appears human, but blood analysis is questionable. Urine analysis was irretrievable. Further investigation necessary to determine its nature, origin, and purpose.
Author’s Notes: My first J2 fic! And my longest fanfic ever! Over 23,000 words! Parts beta’d by d41joubu, any other mistakes are all mine.
***
He has the strangest sensation of floating. He knows he’s strapped in, but he still feels like he’s hovering above his seat. Weightless. Like if the straps give way, he’ll be floating free in the cockpit, which is probably the case. Well, more like plastered against the ceiling, but whatever. Lights of all colors blink in his face. Noises that carry warnings sound in his ears. His hands never let go of the stick, but it isn’t helping. Nothing stops.
…Until it all does.
***
Jensen’s eyes snap open, and he sits up, gasping. Before looking around the room, he knows he’s in trouble. Crashing? Never good. Crashing in post-9/11 America? Never ever good. Crashing a ship that the powers that be will not be able to figure out in post-9/11 America? He might as well sign himself up for a free autopsy right now.
Oh yeah. He’s screwed. He’s sitting on a military cot set up against the far wall of a brick room with a single metal table and a metal chair…both chained to the ground. Across the room from him, there’s a single door - no doubt locked - and a mirror that he is pretty certain has a video camera on the other side, recording every breath he takes.
At the crook of his arm there is a band-aid that hadn’t been there before. They’ve probably already taken blood. Shit.
He is so truly fucked.
***
Jensen makes it roughly half an hour - he guesses since there isn’t a clock anywhere around - before he gets up and paces the room. He didn’t want to show his nerves to these guys, but he just can’t help it. He is so fucked.
Offhand, he wonders if he could play it off that he is a local boy who just fainted at the sight of the crash. He doubts he can manage that if they found him still strapped in the pilot’s seat, though.
Or maybe he can claim to be a test pilot for some big company that’s trying out a new plane, and sorry if his bosses didn’t clear it with the Air Force first. Not his fault. He’s just the hired help. But that would be easy for them to check, and lying to these guys is going to get him in even more trouble, if that is even possible.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
***
What feels like three hours later, Jensen gives in. He marches over to the mirror and calls out, “Hey! Hey, anybody out there? I gotta take a piss!” He beats his fist against the mirror and repeats his request a little louder.
Immediately the door opens and three armed guards come in, all of their guns pointed right at Jensen. A fourth guy comes in with a plastic container and sets it on the table beside Jensen and gestures for him to start.
“Oh hell no,” he says, shaking his head.
None of the guards move, and apparently an unofficial stand-off starts.
Jensen tries to hold out, but his bladder thinks that’s the stupidest idea ever, so he grabs the container and turns so that his back is to the guards. A throat clears and the guard that brought in the container shakes his head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jensen grumbles. But after a moment he retakes his former position so that he’s facing the guards and whips it out. All he can think is that he’s grateful he doesn’t get stage fright because four sets of eyes - and probably that damn camera - focus on his dick with an intensity that makes him question a few motives. “Just like yours,” he says as he shakes off and tucks back in.
The fourth guy reaches for the container - which Jensen is pretty sure is going to go to a lab for analysis - and Jensen considers trying to dump it out first. However, that would defeat the purpose of asking for something to piss in instead of taking a leak in the corner of the room. Another idea hits him, and under usual circumstances, he would dismiss it immediately, but he has others to protect. Besides, these bastards wanted to see it so bad, they could enjoy it a little longer.
With a smirk as real as he can make it, he tosses his piss-filled container at the three guards with the guns. If he’s lucky, they won’t be able to salvage anything. If he’s really lucky, they’ll fire at him on instinct and put him out of his soon-to-be misery.
No such luck.
So yeah. First contact concluded. That went well.
***
Jensen’s pretty sure they’re going to stop being polite and start taking what they want any minute now. However, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to keep trying when three more guards come in a long while later with a tray of food and a bottle of water.
He’s been briefed on what can be used against him and what the powers that be will look for, so he sniffs at the food lightly. Nothing smells off, but that doesn’t really mean shit. The bottle of water is unopened, which is as promising as he can expect at this point. He looks down at his fingers first, though. He doesn’t think they’ve taken his fingerprints yet, but he can’t be sure. Better safe than sorry.
Using the sleeves of his shirt, he grasps the bottle of water and squeezes to make sure there are no puncture wounds anywhere on it, then opens it. Without letting it touch his lips, he tips his head back and drinks it down. Screwing the cap back on, he sets it down on the tray and smiles at the guards. “Thanks. I’m done.”
He moves away from the table and settles down on the cot, willfully ignoring his stomach growling loud enough for the camera to pick up.
***
He dozes, but he doesn’t know for how long. Doesn’t feel like too much later when the door opens and the same three guards come in with a fourth guy - a colonel by the insignia - trailing just behind. He’s got a folder in his hand that Jensen knows is all kinds of bad news. The colonel gestures for Jensen to take a seat at the table - which he does because he needs to know what’s in that folder, dammit - and then nods at some guy Jensen can’t see. A second later, a fifth guy brings a chair for the colonel to sit in.
The colonel sits across the table from Jensen as if they are old friends, completely ignoring the three guns trained on Jensen. He’s got short dark hair and eyes that are hard, yet kind. Something about his clean-shaven face, though, screams for a beard - like he doesn’t look right without one.
“I’m Colonel Morgan,” the man says, laying the folder on the table between them. “And you are?”
Jensen considers calling himself John Doe or something, but figures he’s in enough trouble as it is. “Jensen.”
“Jensen what?”
“Just Jensen.”
Morgan has a small smile on his mouth when he asks, “And where are you from, Just Jensen?”
And that brings an end to Jensen’s contribution to the conversation.
Nodding as if that’s what he expected, Morgan continues, “Why are you here?”
“That’s a good question; why am I here, Colonel? Far as I know, I haven’t broken any laws.”
“I’m sure you know why we’re keeping you here. As for the other, I’m curious as to why you haven’t demanded release yet, since you say you haven’t broken any laws.”
“Would it do me any good?”
Smiling again, Morgan shakes his head. “Not really.”
Jensen shrugs in response. “Are you going to let me go?”
“I think you know the answer to that one too.”
He really wishes he could say he was surprised.
“We took a blood sample earlier.”
Jensen only nods.
“A little shocking.”
Again, Jensen really wishes he was surprised by that. Trying to keep his face neutral, he responds, “I can’t imagine why; I’m a guy, just like you.”
This time, Morgan’s smile crinkles the skin around his eyes, making them softer. “You are human, which surprised a few people, but you’re not just like me.”
Oh yeah. He’s fucked.
“I’m no scientist,” Morgan says as he opens the folder and turns it so Jensen can see it, “so I don’t know what most of this stuff means. Do you?”
Jensen glances down at the medical charts and readouts. Yeah, he knows what they mean, and if he has any kind of luck, he’ll be the only one who does. Smirking, he shakes his head. “Sorry. Flunked out of biology.”
“Well, they tell me that there’s stuff in your blood that shouldn’t be there.”
“I experimented a lot back in college,” Jensen offers. And hell, it’s the truth. Just not what they want.
“I think most people experimented back in college, but apparently no one’s got blood quite like yours.”
“Maybe I was just more adventurous.”
“I don’t doubt that. You’re good, I’ll give you that.” Morgan leans back in his chair and studies Jensen. “What are you hiding? Who are you protecting?”
He blinks back, as innocently as he can. He’s never been good at this part - interacting with people - but he’s got to try. He’s got to keep trying. “You’ve got no right to hold me; I’ve done nothing wrong.”
This time, Morgan’s smile is sad. “I know.” He takes the folder and stands, watching Jensen for a moment before leaving. The chair is taken away and then the three guards disappear through the door.
***
When the next tray comes, there’s a glass of water as companion to the plate. Jensen takes one look and says, “I’m good, thanks.”
A short while later, he pisses in the corner furthest from his cot after holding it as long as he possibly could.
***
He’s actually a little surprised they let him get by with it as long as they do. What feels like days later, he’s strapped down to his cot and outfitted with an IV to keep him hydrated and a catheter for obvious reasons. It’s a little disgusting how easy it was for them to do, but he’s pretty weak and it’s getting harder to care.
He still refuses to eat, so they force-feed him a few times a day. He spits out as much as he can, but some still makes it down and he hates that a part of him is glad at that. They threaten him a few times with a stomach tube, but at this point, Jensen doesn’t really give a shit. They’ve caught him, and there’s no escaping - they’ve made sure he knows that.
He’s man enough to admit that if it was only him, he’d cave right about now. However, since he’s not alone, he endures it silently. Never once does he talk to anyone who comes in for him; he can’t afford to let anything slip.
Lab techs come a time or two, taking different samples of hair, skin, blood, saliva, etc. to replenish their stocks for more tests. None of them say anything to him, which he’s partially grateful for, but it makes him feel like he’s just a thing. Like he’s the deep freeze where they just store their samples, not a person who they swab, scratch, poke, bleed. Once they even bring in an X-ray machine and release pieces of him at a time. Still they don’t say anything, simply maneuver him how they want him while three armed guards keep their weapons trained on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Jensen wonders what they think he will try, but he doesn’t ask.
Morgan only comes to him once more, and it is more of the same from him. Same questions Jensen refuses to answer. Same sad smiles.
Jensen acknowledges that he’s probably going to die down here and get an autopsy that will be used to try and answer as many questions as possible. Normally he’d be pissed at himself for that kind of attitude, but he’s strapped down. With an IV. And a catheter. Fuck being positive at this point.
***
Colonel Morgan sits at the chair that’s chained down and stares at Jensen for a several silent moments. He looks worn and sad - like seeing Jensen strapped down is heartbreaking. It’s a little unnerving for Jensen to realize that, but he strives to keep his expression neutral.
Since he’s been strapped down, only one armed guard is needed to accompany visitors. And this time, Morgan waves the guard out the door so that it’s just the two of them.
“I wish you’d cooperate,” Morgan says softly. His hand moves restlessly on his own thigh, as if it wants to touch Jensen, but can’t.
There’s not really anything Jensen can say to that, and he’s so damn tired. He remains silent.
“I want to help you.”
The kicker is that Jensen actually believes him. But there’s only one thing Morgan can do to help him.
Morgan must read it in his expression because he leans closer to whisper, “I don’t think I can do that.”
Jensen understands. Really, he does, because Morgan has his own loyalties, just like Jensen. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
***
It’s several boring, monotonous days before he sees Morgan again. He’s tired so much of the time now that it’s hard to keep his eyes open when Morgan walks in without his usual escort. He doesn’t even stir when he feels the IV and catheter being removed, or the straps being loosened. What does jar him awake is when Morgan’s hands pull him up.
“Wha?” he asks. His voice is scratchy and just getting the single syllable out burns his throat.
“I’m getting you out of here. Come on,” Morgan says as he helps Jensen through the door.
Jensen’s pretty sure Morgan’s not going to be able to walk right out of this place with Jensen, colonel or not. But Jensen’s wrong. They do get out, though they take back ways and service stairs. Halfway up the first flight, Jensen ends up over Morgan’s shoulder and he must pass out because the next thing he knows, he’s in the trunk of Morgan’s car with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around him. It’s a tight fit, but Jensen can make it work for a while.
It finally occurs to him that he’s actually outside. He’s free - well, sort of. And wow. That was anticlimactic. Or maybe he was just out cold for the exciting parts. Whatever.
***
When he wakes next, he’s in the backseat of a car and Morgan is hovering over him, trying to get him to drink some water.
“Come on, just a little bit.”
Jensen downs half the bottle. “How did you…?” Speaking is easier now, but it still feels…off. Like he’s more than just out of practice.
Morgan gives his first genuine smile since the first day Jensen met him. “I’m in charge of the base; I approve all work schedules.”
He considers asking why he helped, but Jensen figures that pointing out that Morgan just betrayed his country would be plain stupid at this point.
“We’re almost there, and then we can get you some soup and a bed.” He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the car. He glances at Jensen in the rear view mirror and grins. “Oh, and my name’s Jeff.”
Jensen smiles and it hurts - oh, it hurts - but in a good way. A way that gives him hope for the first time in weeks. “Still just Jensen.”
***
He’s on a soft bed with a thick blanket over him. But, more importantly, something smells really good, and Jensen’s pretty sure it’s really close.
“Hey,” a strange voice coaxes his eyes open.
Sitting beside his bed, a ridiculously tall guy with floppy brown hair is holding a bowl of - Jensen guesses - steaming soup. Jensen should probably be worried that he’s with a stranger, but that soup really does smell good and what’s more important than that?
“Hungry?” The guy sets the bowl on the bedside table, and reaches out to help Jensen prop himself against the headboard. Under other circumstances, Jensen might have fought back, or at least struggled a little, but. Soup.
Once Jensen’s situated, the guy picks the soup back up and hands a spoon to Jensen. Jensen thinks it’s going to be pretty awkward with the guy holding the bowl, but it works out well and Jensen is seriously considering licking the bowl clean when the guy sets it aside and takes the spoon back. And if the guy just drugged Jensen? Totally worth it.
The two of them study each other for a minute before the guy speaks up. “Jeff had to get back to the base, but he said he’d come by soon to check up on you.”
Jensen nods. “Who are you?”
The guy grins and wow. He’s pretty hot. “I’m Jared. Padalecki. And you’re Jensen. At least, that’s what Jeff called you.”
He nods again, not sure what to say now.
“Um,” Jared looks a little uncertain. “I hope you don’t mind staying with me for a while. I’ll take good care of you, and when you want to go, I won’t try to stop you.”
“What has…Jeff told you?”
He shrugs. “Enough. I know you were being held, and Jeff was pretty worried about you.”
“Yeah, I was being held. You’re not scared that I might try something?”
“Jeff wouldn’t have brought you here if you were dangerous.”
And yeah. That one leaves Jensen a little speechless. The two of them stare at each other a few more moments, then Jensen says, “Okay. Thanks.”
***
Jensen drinks down the bottle of water sitting at his bedside table, and consequently has to piss an hour later. It takes a little while, but he manages to stand and make it across the room on his own. However, from there, he’s lost. He’s standing in a long hallway with four other doors and that’s just not fair.
Luckily, after checking the first door and only finding a supply closet, Jared comes along.
“Hey, what do you need?” he asks.
Jensen grimaces.
Immediate understanding shows on Jared’s face. “Right down here. Next door on your left.” He comes up to stand beside Jensen, within reach if Jensen needs support. “Here, I’ll walk with you.” It’s only when they’re standing next to each other that Jensen realizes just how gigantic the guy is. Seriously, it’s a little freaky.
Pushing himself, Jensen makes it most of the way using the wall for support and only relies on Jared when they turn into the bathroom. “Thanks. Again.”
“No problem. I’ll wait out here in case you need help getting back to bed.” With a smile, he closes the door to give Jensen some privacy.
And at that moment, Jensen finds it really hard not to like the guy. Yeah, he’s still totally fucked.
***
“Why are you doing this?” Jensen finally asks the third time Jared brings him food - the second being a mid-afternoon snack that Jared said was a must for growing boys. This time, Jensen’s able to hold the bowl himself, and Jared sits beside the bed with his own bowl of soup and two full bags of candy that he says they’ll split after they both finish their dinner.
Jared’s eyebrows knot together in silent question.
“I mean, why are you helping me?”
Shrugging, he answers, “Jeff said you needed help.”
Jensen waits to hear what’s next, but soon realizes that nothing else is coming. “That’s it?”
“Yeah. You needed help, and I could give it. What more reason do I need?”
Jensen blinks. He knows his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t seem to close it on his own as he stares blankly at Jared.
“Are you finished with your soup?”
Shaking himself, Jensen looks down at the mostly empty bowl and nods. “Um. Yeah. Thanks.”
Jared grins and reaches for the bowl. “My pleasure.” He’s halfway out the door before he stops and turns back to Jensen. “Hey, do you mind if I come in here and hang out? You can totally kick me out when you’re tired, but you look like you’re feeling a lot better and there’s not exactly tons of stuff to do in here by yourself and I just thought-“
It becomes pretty evident that if Jensen doesn’t stop Jared, he will just keep talking and talking and talking, so Jensen interrupts, “Yeah. That. That sounds fine.”
“Great! Be right back.” Jared beams back at him, then disappears out the door.
***
The next time Jared comes in, he’s got two big dogs with him - Jensen has no clue as to the breeds since his dog classification system consists of big, medium, and small. Jared’s holding onto both of their collars so they don’t rush across the room and jump on the bed with Jensen.
“Um. Who are these two?” Jensen asks, eyeing both of them as they strain against Jared’s hold.
Jared, though, turns on his billion watt smile. He looks so pleased, but Jensen has absolutely no idea what put that smile there. All Jensen knows is that if Jared doesn’t turn it away from him, he may never recover.
Turning the smile down to the point where Jensen can look upon it without feeling his heart stop, Jared introduces his two companions as Sadie and Harley. Apparently, they are quite pleased to meet him.
“Uh, the feeling’s mutual.” Jensen scoots closer to them and stretches out a hand for each of them to sniff. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared’s smile is a little softer when he says, “They know. I’ve talked about you a lot.”
***
“What?” Jared asks.
Earlier that morning, Jensen got up and dressed in some of Jared’s smaller clothes - which were still pretty loose on him - on his own and walked into the living room to sit down on the couch. He’d even talked Jared into letting him have some coffee with his oatmeal, and that had been heaven in a cup. But that’s not really on his mind right now because he’s working on minute ten of the ‘stare at Jared in the hope of figuring the sasquatch out’ plan. And Jensen knows it’s a bad idea the instant it enters his head. He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he has to know. “Aren’t you curious about who I am? Or why they were holding me?”
Smiling, Jared shakes his head. “You’ll tell me if you want me to know.”
“…But…”
“Let me ask you something: if I asked that stuff, would you tell me the truth?”
Jensen blinks in surprise, and doesn’t reply.
However, his silence must be answer enough for Jared. “See? And I’d prefer you not lie to me, so I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
He hesitates a moment. Jared doesn’t look angry and Jensen just doesn’t know how to react to that complete acceptance. They really should have sent someone else instead of him because he seems to be terrible at the whole human interaction thing. “What if I’m never ready?”
Jared shrugs. “Then I wasn’t meant to know.” He studies Jensen a moment, his forehead wrinkled. “Are you always like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Suspicious.”
Jensen’s mildly affronted. Sitting up slightly, he comments, “I’m cautious.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Whatever you say, shorty.”
“Hey!”
***
Jensen’s up and about with no trouble after a few days at Jared’s house, and he learns three things pretty fast. 1.) Jared lives in the middle of the woods with two dogs that, as it turns out, love Jensen. A lot. 2.) When he’s not afraid that Jensen will pass out at any second, Jared? Never. Shuts. Up. 3.) Again, when he’s not afraid that Jensen will pass out at any second, Jared has absolutely no respect for personal boundaries. Ever. Jensen’s convinced that if he didn’t lock the door when he showered, Jared would be right there in the stall beside him trying to hug or something.
And it doesn’t really matter that Jensen thinks it’s a little cute because they? Have no hope.
***
Jensen could live on coffee. He’s always known that, but after having to go without it for weeks while he was being held in that hell of a cell? He’s surprised he survived the experience. But now that he’s free, he drinks it all day long, completely ignoring Jared’s bitching that it’s bad for him in such obscene quantities. But Jared inhales sugar 24/7, so he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to giving advice for healthy living.
He goes into the kitchen to refill his cup and runs into Jared coming in with groceries. With as much as this guy eats, Jensen’s surprised Jared doesn’t just live at the grocery store and save himself the trouble.
“And how many cups does that make today?” Jared uses his chin to point at the mug in Jensen’s hand while he sets the grocery bags on the counter.
Shrugging, Jensen noses through the bags, “Lost count.”
“I’ll bet.” He busies himself putting things away, and it’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to avoid looking at Jensen but Jensen has absolutely no idea why.
“What’s up?”
“I, uh, heard from Jeff this morning.”
Oh. “And?”
“They’re still looking for you pretty hard, so he can’t come by for a while. I told him you’re feeling better; that you’ve recovered really fast.”
“Always did recoup quick.”
“Yeah,” Jared offers a small smile, but he still looks uneasy. “Um, he says that you need to keep out of sight, so you need to stay here at least a few more days. Probably more.”
Jensen blinks. He still doesn’t get what’s up with Jared. “Okay.”
Instantly, Jared’s eyes widen. “You mean…you don’t mind…” he makes vague gestures to the house around them that Jensen is surprised to see that he understands.
“I don’t mind staying here with you a little longer, as long as you don’t mind,” he grins. And again, he’s shocked to know that he means it. Jared’s a good guy, and if Jensen has to stay with him a few more days? Well, that is just fine with him. He’ll be on his way soon enough, no matter how much he might not want to be.
***
Jensen notices that Jared takes the dogs for a run every morning before dawn, so he gets up ridiculously early to go along the next day. Usually anything that happens before the sun comes up is banned in Jensen’s book, but he needs this. He needs to get back in shape for when he has to run again. And he definitely needs to get familiar with the surrounding terrain, in case he has to make a quick getaway. Besides, it’s not exactly a hardship to spend some extra time with Jared.
So that’s why he’s leaning against the wall beside the backdoor with his eyes mostly closed at 6:20 am. He hears Jared’s surprised huff of laughter when he comes out, but he keeps his eyes shut those last few precious seconds.
“You sure you want to come running with us? I mean, just a few days ago you looked like you were on death’s door,” Jared comments.
Jensen opens his eyes to see Jared scratching both dogs behind their ears, and he has to swallow. “I feel fine. Like I said, I’ve always recouped fast. Besides, I need to see how out of shape I am now.” He throws in a grin that he hopes will help convince Jared of his innocent sincerity, and evidently it works since Jared beams back at him.
“Okay, let’s get going.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Jensen’s hand is propped against a tree, holding him up.
Beside him, Jared is chuckling. Bastard. “I warned you, man.”
And Jensen would totally respond to that. If he could get enough air into his lungs. That seems to be a problem currently.
“Should I walk you back to the house?”
Immediately, Jensen shakes his head, still gasping for breath.
“Dude. You look like you’re about to pass out. Jeff is going to kill me if I nursed you back to health just to turn around and get you killed on a simple jog.”
Jensen flips him off.
Full out laughing now, Jared squats down to pet the dogs again. “Alright, we’ll take a few minutes, then start back up. And we’ll take a slower pace this time. Deal?”
All Jensen can do is nod. But at least he’s not gasping anymore.
***
Jensen doesn’t want to think about how far he makes it in their run before he’s gasping for breath again - it would just depress him. Best to think of it as motivation to get back into shape as fast as possible. Because if the powers that be decided to come after him now? He wouldn’t even make a descent showing of resistance, and that’s just too dismal to think about.
So that settles it. He’s going to run with Jared and the dogs every morning until he’s back up to par. Even if it kills him. Which, getting up before dawn and running before he’s gotten his coffee? Just might.
***
Jared turns to Jensen once he pauses Live Free or Die Hard just as McClane is gearing up to kill some more bad guys. “Would it ruin your mystery guy image if I asked you where in Texas you’re from?”
Jensen swallows the bite of pizza in his mouth, and sets the rest of the piece on the paper plate in his lap. As if sensing his unease, Harley, who’s lying down at his feet, raises his head to look up at Jensen. Time to employ the first lesson in handling friendly interrogation: stall. “What makes you think I’m from Texas?”
“The accent. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
He doesn’t quite know how to answer because he really doesn’t want to lie to Jared - which is enough of a shock - but telling the truth is just not an option. “Richardson.”
“I’m from San Antonio, and please don’t tell me you’re a Mavs fan.”
The side of his mouth quirks up slightly when he turns back to the television. “Alright, I won’t…as long as you don’t say you’re a Spurs fan. Now play the damn movie; I want to see McClane blow shit up.”
***
Out by the backdoor the next morning, Jensen pointedly ignores Jared’s chuckling just beside him.
“Dude,” Jared grins, “you’re not ready to go running yet. There’s nothing wrong with that. You need to ease back into activity, man.”
It takes a moment for Jensen to stop wheezing long enough to reply. “Don’t have time to ease back in.” He finally pushes away from the house and forces himself to stand straight. “Besides, I’m fine. Did a lot better today. And I’ll keep getting better until I can beat your ass.”
“Whatever, man.” Jared is shaking his head, but he’s still smiling, so Jensen isn’t worried. “Sit down here on the step with me before you fall down.” He even pats the cement step right next to his thigh to emphasize his point. And yeah, maybe Jensen’s a little tired. So he sits.
They stay there, looking out into the woods behind Jared’s house, while both dogs pant at their feet. Not for the first time, Jensen wonders what the hell Jared does. He never leaves unless he’s going to buy groceries - which they go through a ton of almost daily, thanks to Jared’s giant appetite - and Jared definitely doesn’t seem like a park ranger type. Unable to fight his curiosity any longer, Jensen finally asks, “What is it you do, man?”
Jared shrugs. “I write books for young adults.”
“You mean teenagers?”
“Yeah. Every now and then I get inspired and try to write a full novel, but I just can’t seem to stick with it.”
Laughing, Jensen slaps a hand on Jared’s shoulder and can feel the wet heat from Jared’s skin through his shirt, and that’s just something he has to ignore. Right now. He pulls his hand back to his lap, unable to stop himself from clenching it to keep the warmth just a few moments more. When he speaks again, he’s surprised his voice sounds so level. “Got the attention span of a four year old, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Screw you!” But again, Jared is smiling large enough for his dimples to come out, so Jensen simply chuckles in response.
“Hey now. Behave or no snack time today.”
“Dude, even you wouldn’t be cruel enough to deprive a man of his candy.”
“Try me.”
***
“I think Jeff is going to try to come up this weekend to see how you’re doing,” Jared says over breakfast later.
Jensen nods as he gulps down a whole cup of hot, fresh coffee.
“What are you, man?”
That causes Jensen to pause. He freezes in his seat, nervous eyes searching Jared’s face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean how you can drink that coffee black and so hot I’m afraid to touch the cup. Your taste buds must be dead. Or comatose.”
Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Jensen shrugs. “Not my fault you’re a pussy.”
“Whatever. You just wish you were as tall and manly as me,” he says, straightening up in his seat.
Jensen throws a dubious glance to the top of Jared’s head. “Yeah, no, Sasquatch. You keep your freakish height; I’ll stay down here among the land of the humans.”
Laughing, Jared goes to throw the last bite of his bacon, but thinks better on it and pops it into his mouth.
“Do you ever stop eating?” Jensen asks, because yeah. That’s the fourth thing he’s learned since waking up in Jared’s house. The man eats 18 hours of the day, and spends the rest dreaming of eating.
Jared leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach contentedly before thrusting it out so he has a little pooch.
An eyebrow rises. “You’re pregnant, huh? That explains a lot.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Remember, snack time is in jeopardy if you’re a naughty sasquatch.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
***
Friday morning, Jensen makes it thirty whole minutes into their run before he’s ready to pass out against a tree. He thinks it’s quite an accomplishment, but he’s not nearly as proud of it as Jared seems to be. The latter keeps slapping him on the back - not exactly helping Jensen to get his breath back - and grinning so wide that his dimples appear permanent - yeah, that one’s not helping Jensen catch his breath either.
“You keep going like this, and you might actually make the whole jog without stopping by the end of next week,” Jared says.
Jensen just nods because he’s still a little winded.
“Jen?”
Oh no. Jensen doesn’t like the tone of Jared’s voice. He’s heard it from other people enough to know that he’s not going to appreciate what comes next. “Yeah?”
“I know you said that you recoup fast, but. It just seems…”
Shit. “Good genetics. What can I say?” Taking a deep breath he starts jogging again. “Race you back!”
Behind him, he can hear Jared huff out a laugh and both dogs bark in excitement.
***
Jensen can see Jared’s dimples from across the room when Jeff shows up Saturday morning. “Jeff, come on in, man.”
“Jared, I can’t thank you enough for helping. Really.” He reaches out and throws one arm around Jared to pat him on the back. Moving away, he turns to Jensen. “Jensen,” Jeff grins, “it’s good to see you like this. How are you feeling?”
Jensen’s not really sure how to react to Jeff. How to greet him, especially after seeing him hug Jared. So he offers a small smile and takes a single step forward. “Hey. I’m good. Um, thanks. For saving me and all.”
Nodding, he responds, “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
Jared immediately raises his hands, “Nah, y’all stay here. I’ll take the dogs for a walk.”
The two of them sit across from each other at the kitchen table. “I assume Jared told you that they’re still looking for you,” Jeff says as Jared herds the dogs outside.
“Yeah, he passed it along.”
“Jensen,” he hesitates, “you and I both know they’re not going to give up.”
Shit. And yeah, he knew, but it’s different to actually hear it. What little hope he had vanishes with the realization that he’s going to have to run. Soon. He just nods.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
It doesn’t escape Jensen’s notice that Jeff didn’t ask what he was going to do, and Jensen appreciates that. But yeah, what is he going to do? It’s risky. Jensen knows that it’s risky, but Jeff’s been good to him so far. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he won’t turn around and screw Jensen at the first opportunity, though. But. He has to know. He has to try. “What happened to the ship?”
“Jensen, I can’t help you with that.”
He shakes his head. “Just. What happened to it?”
“No one’s going to be flying that thing any time soon. The crash messed it up pretty bad; you’re lucky to be alive, not to mention unharmed.”
Jensen scrubs a hand over his face, biting back his groan. What the fuck is he supposed to do? “Does anything still work?”
“No, but several teams of scientists are working on it. They’ll get something out of it eventually.”
Fuck! He can’t let the Air Force keep the ship, but how in the hell is he supposed to get it back?
“What are they going to find, Jensen?”
Too many things that he can’t allow them to find. This time it’s Jensen’s smile that’s sad. “Where are they keeping the ship?”
“I can’t,” Jeff shakes his head. “I can’t do that, Jensen. It’s one thing to help you, but…I can’t do that.”
“I’m not asking you to help me.” Jensen feels guilty. He actually feels guilty for asking, and that is just. He has no idea how to process that. But without Jeff’s help, getting the pieces of his ship out is going to be pretty hard. Damn near impossible. If only he had the others…
Immediately he pushes away that thought. He can’t let himself think about the others right now. He can’t afford to have any slipups, even if they’re only in his head.
Jeff sighs. “Look, I’m probably not going to be able to get back here for a while. Since I broke you out, security is nearly air-tight. With that, and with trying to keep up appearances, it was hard enough to come this time. I’ll try to keep you informed of what’s going on through Jared, but…I probably won’t see you again.”
Forcing himself to swallow, Jensen fists his hands. “Okay. Um. You know I…if I could…I’d tell you…”
“Thanks.” His smile is soft this time as he stands up. “Take care of yourself.”
Jensen only nods for a moment because he can’t seem to get his voice to work. “…Yeah. Thank you. Again.”
“I couldn’t watch you die like that. You didn’t deserve it.”
“How did you…?”
“Your eyes.”
He has no idea what comes over him, but he stands and moves around the table to Jeff. Jensen hugs Jeff close and squeezes even tighter when Jeff’s arms embrace him too.
***
Jeff’s gone by the time Jared gets back. Jared doesn’t ask what they talked about. He doesn’t ask when Jeff will be back. He doesn’t ask why Jensen is visibly shaken.
And Jensen loves him a little more for that.
***
Jensen’s more than a little pissed at himself for not seeing it coming.
It happens around 6pm on the second Saturday that he’s with Jared. There’s an insistent knock at the door while they’re eating the steaks that Jensen had thrown on the grill outside, and their laughter immediately falls quiet. Both set down their forks and knives and just stare at each other.
“Jeff said he wasn’t…”
“Yeah.”
Jared gets up and walks to the door, Jensen just behind but out of sight of the door. He doesn’t know why, but he’s got a very bad feeling about who’s at the door and he wants to be close in case Jared needs him. And he does.
Jensen can hear it in Jared’s voice when he greets the visitor. The cold politeness - such a contrast from Jared’s usual warm demeanor - and just a hint of fear.
“Mr. Padalecki,” a male voice says. “May we come in?” Shit, there’s more than one of them.
“Um, what’s this about?” Jared asks.
“We really should talk about this inside.”
“I’d like to know what it’s about before I let you into my house.”
There’s a tense pause that Jensen can feel even at his distance. Finally, the guy cracks, “We understand that you’re a friend of U.S. Air Force Colonel Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Is that correct?”
Jensen’s first instinct is to grab Jared and run. Run as fast as he can. But they might just be checking in; they might not know that Jensen’s there. Though it kills him, he has to wait. He has to see if they know.
“Yeah, I know Jeff. Has something happened to him?” Jared asks, the fear becoming more evident.
“Colonel Morgan is fine. We’re here investigating a security breach under Colonel Morgan’s command. He came to visit you right after the breach and we believe he hid something here.”
FUCK!
“Well, Jeff brought out a pizza and a few beers, but that was about it. Sorry I can’t help you, gentlemen.”
Jensen can hear the front door squeaking as Jared closes it, but a thud sounds right before the stranger says, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist you let us in.”
And that does it.
He moves as fast as he can, coming out of his hiding place and getting to Jared’s side at the front door. There are two men, one in a black suit and the other in a uniform, trying to push Jared back so they can gain entrance, and Jensen’s pretty sure there are more outside just dying to get inside. The guy in the uniform reaches for Jared and yeah. Jensen goes a little nuts and punches him right in the face as hard as he can.
The guy in the suit makes a grab for him, but Jared steps in the way. Jensen looks over just in time to see Jared kick at the suit’s kneecaps, then knock him out with a well-placed punch.
Jensen tries really hard not to get turned on because they have absolutely no time.
He fails pretty spectacularly.
***
Jared grabs Jensen’s hand and pulls him through the house to the backdoor. Jensen’s suspects that there are going to be several men waiting back there for them, and what do you know.
He’s right.
At least they have the element of surprise on their side because they come out swinging and manage to take care of the two guys at the backdoor.
The problem is that there are about six more guys in uniform heading their way right now. And that’s when Jensen pushes Jared towards the tree line in front of them because the woods are dense and it’s just dark enough that they may lose the uniforms.
Unfortunately, that’s also when the bad guys break out their guns.
“Holy shit! They’re shooting at us!” Jared screams as he ducks into the woods, Jensen right beside him.
“Just keep running!”
Behind him, he hears the dogs barking, a few distant shouts of pain, and more people coming than he wants to think about. They’ve got to get away somehow. He refuses to go back to that room, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let them get their hands on Jared.
Jared reaches out to nudge Jensen to the right, guiding him to an enormous tree that has no branches within reach. What the hell does Jared expect him to do? Fly up the side of it? But before he can ask, Jared’s got his hands on Jensen’s ass and he’s pushing him up the tree to the lowest branch.
It isn’t graceful, but he gets up there fast enough to reach down and help Jared up before their pursuers can find them.
***
They wait it out, silently. And for several minutes, when the uniformed men are close, neither even dares to breathe. Beside Jensen, Jared has one hand over his mouth and one on his chest, over his heart. Jensen’s not really sure about the reasoning, but it appears to keep Jared calm and quiet, and that’s all Jensen can ask for right about now.
When they’re sure that the uniformed men are nowhere around, Jared lowers his hands and turns to Jensen. “Okay, I lied. You’re going to need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”
Oh hell, what he wouldn’t give to not have this conversation. “Jared…I can’t. I wish I could, but-”
“Jensen,” Jared interrupts, “you have to give me something. I just got shot at!”
“If it helps, they were probably tranquilizer darts.”
“What?”
“They want me alive. They wouldn’t have risked shooting in my general direction with real bullets.”
Jared takes a moment to digest that. “Who are you?”
He really doesn’t want to go into this with Jared right now, but he’s got to make Jared see! He’s got to make him drop it. “What did you think was going to happen when Jeff brought me to you? What did you think I was?”
“I don’t know!” His arms fly around him wildly, and Jensen actually has to duck at one point. “I thought maybe the military thought you were a terrorist and Jeff knew you weren’t! But they don’t do…that for a suspected terrorist, do they? I mean, I don’t know a lot about military protocol but that seemed a little weird to me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Jensen. Help me out here.”
And Jared sounds so. Something. Something that he should never be, and that’s the only reason Jensen can think of that explains why he gives as much as he can. “I crashed not too far from here. At least, I think not too far from here. I wasn’t really awake for the actual impact.”
He blinks. “You crashed. Like, your private plane had engine trouble midair?”
“Um. More like my ship was shot down by the U.S. Air Force.”
“Your ship?”
Jensen simply nods.
“You’re…”
“Not from around here.”
A heavy silence falls between them that lasts for several moments. Jared just keeps staring at him like he’s waiting for the punch line. God, he wishes he had one.
“Okay, so. One of us is crazy, and my money’s on you,” Jared finally says.
Sighing, Jensen scrubs a hand over his face. “I thought you’d say that.”
Part 2 | Part 3
*****
Title: Richardson, Or Thereabouts
Author: Never
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: Hard R
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Warning: AU.
Summary: File Brief: Unidentified being J6RX, self-identified as Jensen, was retrieved from the crash site at 0200 hours. It appears human, but blood analysis is questionable. Urine analysis was irretrievable. Further investigation necessary to determine its nature, origin, and purpose.
Author’s Notes: My first J2 fic! And my longest fanfic ever! Over 23,000 words! Parts beta’d by d41joubu, any other mistakes are all mine.
***
He has the strangest sensation of floating. He knows he’s strapped in, but he still feels like he’s hovering above his seat. Weightless. Like if the straps give way, he’ll be floating free in the cockpit, which is probably the case. Well, more like plastered against the ceiling, but whatever. Lights of all colors blink in his face. Noises that carry warnings sound in his ears. His hands never let go of the stick, but it isn’t helping. Nothing stops.
…Until it all does.
***
Jensen’s eyes snap open, and he sits up, gasping. Before looking around the room, he knows he’s in trouble. Crashing? Never good. Crashing in post-9/11 America? Never ever good. Crashing a ship that the powers that be will not be able to figure out in post-9/11 America? He might as well sign himself up for a free autopsy right now.
Oh yeah. He’s screwed. He’s sitting on a military cot set up against the far wall of a brick room with a single metal table and a metal chair…both chained to the ground. Across the room from him, there’s a single door - no doubt locked - and a mirror that he is pretty certain has a video camera on the other side, recording every breath he takes.
At the crook of his arm there is a band-aid that hadn’t been there before. They’ve probably already taken blood. Shit.
He is so truly fucked.
***
Jensen makes it roughly half an hour - he guesses since there isn’t a clock anywhere around - before he gets up and paces the room. He didn’t want to show his nerves to these guys, but he just can’t help it. He is so fucked.
Offhand, he wonders if he could play it off that he is a local boy who just fainted at the sight of the crash. He doubts he can manage that if they found him still strapped in the pilot’s seat, though.
Or maybe he can claim to be a test pilot for some big company that’s trying out a new plane, and sorry if his bosses didn’t clear it with the Air Force first. Not his fault. He’s just the hired help. But that would be easy for them to check, and lying to these guys is going to get him in even more trouble, if that is even possible.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
***
What feels like three hours later, Jensen gives in. He marches over to the mirror and calls out, “Hey! Hey, anybody out there? I gotta take a piss!” He beats his fist against the mirror and repeats his request a little louder.
Immediately the door opens and three armed guards come in, all of their guns pointed right at Jensen. A fourth guy comes in with a plastic container and sets it on the table beside Jensen and gestures for him to start.
“Oh hell no,” he says, shaking his head.
None of the guards move, and apparently an unofficial stand-off starts.
Jensen tries to hold out, but his bladder thinks that’s the stupidest idea ever, so he grabs the container and turns so that his back is to the guards. A throat clears and the guard that brought in the container shakes his head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jensen grumbles. But after a moment he retakes his former position so that he’s facing the guards and whips it out. All he can think is that he’s grateful he doesn’t get stage fright because four sets of eyes - and probably that damn camera - focus on his dick with an intensity that makes him question a few motives. “Just like yours,” he says as he shakes off and tucks back in.
The fourth guy reaches for the container - which Jensen is pretty sure is going to go to a lab for analysis - and Jensen considers trying to dump it out first. However, that would defeat the purpose of asking for something to piss in instead of taking a leak in the corner of the room. Another idea hits him, and under usual circumstances, he would dismiss it immediately, but he has others to protect. Besides, these bastards wanted to see it so bad, they could enjoy it a little longer.
With a smirk as real as he can make it, he tosses his piss-filled container at the three guards with the guns. If he’s lucky, they won’t be able to salvage anything. If he’s really lucky, they’ll fire at him on instinct and put him out of his soon-to-be misery.
No such luck.
So yeah. First contact concluded. That went well.
***
Jensen’s pretty sure they’re going to stop being polite and start taking what they want any minute now. However, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to keep trying when three more guards come in a long while later with a tray of food and a bottle of water.
He’s been briefed on what can be used against him and what the powers that be will look for, so he sniffs at the food lightly. Nothing smells off, but that doesn’t really mean shit. The bottle of water is unopened, which is as promising as he can expect at this point. He looks down at his fingers first, though. He doesn’t think they’ve taken his fingerprints yet, but he can’t be sure. Better safe than sorry.
Using the sleeves of his shirt, he grasps the bottle of water and squeezes to make sure there are no puncture wounds anywhere on it, then opens it. Without letting it touch his lips, he tips his head back and drinks it down. Screwing the cap back on, he sets it down on the tray and smiles at the guards. “Thanks. I’m done.”
He moves away from the table and settles down on the cot, willfully ignoring his stomach growling loud enough for the camera to pick up.
***
He dozes, but he doesn’t know for how long. Doesn’t feel like too much later when the door opens and the same three guards come in with a fourth guy - a colonel by the insignia - trailing just behind. He’s got a folder in his hand that Jensen knows is all kinds of bad news. The colonel gestures for Jensen to take a seat at the table - which he does because he needs to know what’s in that folder, dammit - and then nods at some guy Jensen can’t see. A second later, a fifth guy brings a chair for the colonel to sit in.
The colonel sits across the table from Jensen as if they are old friends, completely ignoring the three guns trained on Jensen. He’s got short dark hair and eyes that are hard, yet kind. Something about his clean-shaven face, though, screams for a beard - like he doesn’t look right without one.
“I’m Colonel Morgan,” the man says, laying the folder on the table between them. “And you are?”
Jensen considers calling himself John Doe or something, but figures he’s in enough trouble as it is. “Jensen.”
“Jensen what?”
“Just Jensen.”
Morgan has a small smile on his mouth when he asks, “And where are you from, Just Jensen?”
And that brings an end to Jensen’s contribution to the conversation.
Nodding as if that’s what he expected, Morgan continues, “Why are you here?”
“That’s a good question; why am I here, Colonel? Far as I know, I haven’t broken any laws.”
“I’m sure you know why we’re keeping you here. As for the other, I’m curious as to why you haven’t demanded release yet, since you say you haven’t broken any laws.”
“Would it do me any good?”
Smiling again, Morgan shakes his head. “Not really.”
Jensen shrugs in response. “Are you going to let me go?”
“I think you know the answer to that one too.”
He really wishes he could say he was surprised.
“We took a blood sample earlier.”
Jensen only nods.
“A little shocking.”
Again, Jensen really wishes he was surprised by that. Trying to keep his face neutral, he responds, “I can’t imagine why; I’m a guy, just like you.”
This time, Morgan’s smile crinkles the skin around his eyes, making them softer. “You are human, which surprised a few people, but you’re not just like me.”
Oh yeah. He’s fucked.
“I’m no scientist,” Morgan says as he opens the folder and turns it so Jensen can see it, “so I don’t know what most of this stuff means. Do you?”
Jensen glances down at the medical charts and readouts. Yeah, he knows what they mean, and if he has any kind of luck, he’ll be the only one who does. Smirking, he shakes his head. “Sorry. Flunked out of biology.”
“Well, they tell me that there’s stuff in your blood that shouldn’t be there.”
“I experimented a lot back in college,” Jensen offers. And hell, it’s the truth. Just not what they want.
“I think most people experimented back in college, but apparently no one’s got blood quite like yours.”
“Maybe I was just more adventurous.”
“I don’t doubt that. You’re good, I’ll give you that.” Morgan leans back in his chair and studies Jensen. “What are you hiding? Who are you protecting?”
He blinks back, as innocently as he can. He’s never been good at this part - interacting with people - but he’s got to try. He’s got to keep trying. “You’ve got no right to hold me; I’ve done nothing wrong.”
This time, Morgan’s smile is sad. “I know.” He takes the folder and stands, watching Jensen for a moment before leaving. The chair is taken away and then the three guards disappear through the door.
***
When the next tray comes, there’s a glass of water as companion to the plate. Jensen takes one look and says, “I’m good, thanks.”
A short while later, he pisses in the corner furthest from his cot after holding it as long as he possibly could.
***
He’s actually a little surprised they let him get by with it as long as they do. What feels like days later, he’s strapped down to his cot and outfitted with an IV to keep him hydrated and a catheter for obvious reasons. It’s a little disgusting how easy it was for them to do, but he’s pretty weak and it’s getting harder to care.
He still refuses to eat, so they force-feed him a few times a day. He spits out as much as he can, but some still makes it down and he hates that a part of him is glad at that. They threaten him a few times with a stomach tube, but at this point, Jensen doesn’t really give a shit. They’ve caught him, and there’s no escaping - they’ve made sure he knows that.
He’s man enough to admit that if it was only him, he’d cave right about now. However, since he’s not alone, he endures it silently. Never once does he talk to anyone who comes in for him; he can’t afford to let anything slip.
Lab techs come a time or two, taking different samples of hair, skin, blood, saliva, etc. to replenish their stocks for more tests. None of them say anything to him, which he’s partially grateful for, but it makes him feel like he’s just a thing. Like he’s the deep freeze where they just store their samples, not a person who they swab, scratch, poke, bleed. Once they even bring in an X-ray machine and release pieces of him at a time. Still they don’t say anything, simply maneuver him how they want him while three armed guards keep their weapons trained on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Jensen wonders what they think he will try, but he doesn’t ask.
Morgan only comes to him once more, and it is more of the same from him. Same questions Jensen refuses to answer. Same sad smiles.
Jensen acknowledges that he’s probably going to die down here and get an autopsy that will be used to try and answer as many questions as possible. Normally he’d be pissed at himself for that kind of attitude, but he’s strapped down. With an IV. And a catheter. Fuck being positive at this point.
***
Colonel Morgan sits at the chair that’s chained down and stares at Jensen for a several silent moments. He looks worn and sad - like seeing Jensen strapped down is heartbreaking. It’s a little unnerving for Jensen to realize that, but he strives to keep his expression neutral.
Since he’s been strapped down, only one armed guard is needed to accompany visitors. And this time, Morgan waves the guard out the door so that it’s just the two of them.
“I wish you’d cooperate,” Morgan says softly. His hand moves restlessly on his own thigh, as if it wants to touch Jensen, but can’t.
There’s not really anything Jensen can say to that, and he’s so damn tired. He remains silent.
“I want to help you.”
The kicker is that Jensen actually believes him. But there’s only one thing Morgan can do to help him.
Morgan must read it in his expression because he leans closer to whisper, “I don’t think I can do that.”
Jensen understands. Really, he does, because Morgan has his own loyalties, just like Jensen. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
***
It’s several boring, monotonous days before he sees Morgan again. He’s tired so much of the time now that it’s hard to keep his eyes open when Morgan walks in without his usual escort. He doesn’t even stir when he feels the IV and catheter being removed, or the straps being loosened. What does jar him awake is when Morgan’s hands pull him up.
“Wha?” he asks. His voice is scratchy and just getting the single syllable out burns his throat.
“I’m getting you out of here. Come on,” Morgan says as he helps Jensen through the door.
Jensen’s pretty sure Morgan’s not going to be able to walk right out of this place with Jensen, colonel or not. But Jensen’s wrong. They do get out, though they take back ways and service stairs. Halfway up the first flight, Jensen ends up over Morgan’s shoulder and he must pass out because the next thing he knows, he’s in the trunk of Morgan’s car with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around him. It’s a tight fit, but Jensen can make it work for a while.
It finally occurs to him that he’s actually outside. He’s free - well, sort of. And wow. That was anticlimactic. Or maybe he was just out cold for the exciting parts. Whatever.
***
When he wakes next, he’s in the backseat of a car and Morgan is hovering over him, trying to get him to drink some water.
“Come on, just a little bit.”
Jensen downs half the bottle. “How did you…?” Speaking is easier now, but it still feels…off. Like he’s more than just out of practice.
Morgan gives his first genuine smile since the first day Jensen met him. “I’m in charge of the base; I approve all work schedules.”
He considers asking why he helped, but Jensen figures that pointing out that Morgan just betrayed his country would be plain stupid at this point.
“We’re almost there, and then we can get you some soup and a bed.” He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the car. He glances at Jensen in the rear view mirror and grins. “Oh, and my name’s Jeff.”
Jensen smiles and it hurts - oh, it hurts - but in a good way. A way that gives him hope for the first time in weeks. “Still just Jensen.”
***
He’s on a soft bed with a thick blanket over him. But, more importantly, something smells really good, and Jensen’s pretty sure it’s really close.
“Hey,” a strange voice coaxes his eyes open.
Sitting beside his bed, a ridiculously tall guy with floppy brown hair is holding a bowl of - Jensen guesses - steaming soup. Jensen should probably be worried that he’s with a stranger, but that soup really does smell good and what’s more important than that?
“Hungry?” The guy sets the bowl on the bedside table, and reaches out to help Jensen prop himself against the headboard. Under other circumstances, Jensen might have fought back, or at least struggled a little, but. Soup.
Once Jensen’s situated, the guy picks the soup back up and hands a spoon to Jensen. Jensen thinks it’s going to be pretty awkward with the guy holding the bowl, but it works out well and Jensen is seriously considering licking the bowl clean when the guy sets it aside and takes the spoon back. And if the guy just drugged Jensen? Totally worth it.
The two of them study each other for a minute before the guy speaks up. “Jeff had to get back to the base, but he said he’d come by soon to check up on you.”
Jensen nods. “Who are you?”
The guy grins and wow. He’s pretty hot. “I’m Jared. Padalecki. And you’re Jensen. At least, that’s what Jeff called you.”
He nods again, not sure what to say now.
“Um,” Jared looks a little uncertain. “I hope you don’t mind staying with me for a while. I’ll take good care of you, and when you want to go, I won’t try to stop you.”
“What has…Jeff told you?”
He shrugs. “Enough. I know you were being held, and Jeff was pretty worried about you.”
“Yeah, I was being held. You’re not scared that I might try something?”
“Jeff wouldn’t have brought you here if you were dangerous.”
And yeah. That one leaves Jensen a little speechless. The two of them stare at each other a few more moments, then Jensen says, “Okay. Thanks.”
***
Jensen drinks down the bottle of water sitting at his bedside table, and consequently has to piss an hour later. It takes a little while, but he manages to stand and make it across the room on his own. However, from there, he’s lost. He’s standing in a long hallway with four other doors and that’s just not fair.
Luckily, after checking the first door and only finding a supply closet, Jared comes along.
“Hey, what do you need?” he asks.
Jensen grimaces.
Immediate understanding shows on Jared’s face. “Right down here. Next door on your left.” He comes up to stand beside Jensen, within reach if Jensen needs support. “Here, I’ll walk with you.” It’s only when they’re standing next to each other that Jensen realizes just how gigantic the guy is. Seriously, it’s a little freaky.
Pushing himself, Jensen makes it most of the way using the wall for support and only relies on Jared when they turn into the bathroom. “Thanks. Again.”
“No problem. I’ll wait out here in case you need help getting back to bed.” With a smile, he closes the door to give Jensen some privacy.
And at that moment, Jensen finds it really hard not to like the guy. Yeah, he’s still totally fucked.
***
“Why are you doing this?” Jensen finally asks the third time Jared brings him food - the second being a mid-afternoon snack that Jared said was a must for growing boys. This time, Jensen’s able to hold the bowl himself, and Jared sits beside the bed with his own bowl of soup and two full bags of candy that he says they’ll split after they both finish their dinner.
Jared’s eyebrows knot together in silent question.
“I mean, why are you helping me?”
Shrugging, he answers, “Jeff said you needed help.”
Jensen waits to hear what’s next, but soon realizes that nothing else is coming. “That’s it?”
“Yeah. You needed help, and I could give it. What more reason do I need?”
Jensen blinks. He knows his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t seem to close it on his own as he stares blankly at Jared.
“Are you finished with your soup?”
Shaking himself, Jensen looks down at the mostly empty bowl and nods. “Um. Yeah. Thanks.”
Jared grins and reaches for the bowl. “My pleasure.” He’s halfway out the door before he stops and turns back to Jensen. “Hey, do you mind if I come in here and hang out? You can totally kick me out when you’re tired, but you look like you’re feeling a lot better and there’s not exactly tons of stuff to do in here by yourself and I just thought-“
It becomes pretty evident that if Jensen doesn’t stop Jared, he will just keep talking and talking and talking, so Jensen interrupts, “Yeah. That. That sounds fine.”
“Great! Be right back.” Jared beams back at him, then disappears out the door.
***
The next time Jared comes in, he’s got two big dogs with him - Jensen has no clue as to the breeds since his dog classification system consists of big, medium, and small. Jared’s holding onto both of their collars so they don’t rush across the room and jump on the bed with Jensen.
“Um. Who are these two?” Jensen asks, eyeing both of them as they strain against Jared’s hold.
Jared, though, turns on his billion watt smile. He looks so pleased, but Jensen has absolutely no idea what put that smile there. All Jensen knows is that if Jared doesn’t turn it away from him, he may never recover.
Turning the smile down to the point where Jensen can look upon it without feeling his heart stop, Jared introduces his two companions as Sadie and Harley. Apparently, they are quite pleased to meet him.
“Uh, the feeling’s mutual.” Jensen scoots closer to them and stretches out a hand for each of them to sniff. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared’s smile is a little softer when he says, “They know. I’ve talked about you a lot.”
***
“What?” Jared asks.
Earlier that morning, Jensen got up and dressed in some of Jared’s smaller clothes - which were still pretty loose on him - on his own and walked into the living room to sit down on the couch. He’d even talked Jared into letting him have some coffee with his oatmeal, and that had been heaven in a cup. But that’s not really on his mind right now because he’s working on minute ten of the ‘stare at Jared in the hope of figuring the sasquatch out’ plan. And Jensen knows it’s a bad idea the instant it enters his head. He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he has to know. “Aren’t you curious about who I am? Or why they were holding me?”
Smiling, Jared shakes his head. “You’ll tell me if you want me to know.”
“…But…”
“Let me ask you something: if I asked that stuff, would you tell me the truth?”
Jensen blinks in surprise, and doesn’t reply.
However, his silence must be answer enough for Jared. “See? And I’d prefer you not lie to me, so I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
He hesitates a moment. Jared doesn’t look angry and Jensen just doesn’t know how to react to that complete acceptance. They really should have sent someone else instead of him because he seems to be terrible at the whole human interaction thing. “What if I’m never ready?”
Jared shrugs. “Then I wasn’t meant to know.” He studies Jensen a moment, his forehead wrinkled. “Are you always like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Suspicious.”
Jensen’s mildly affronted. Sitting up slightly, he comments, “I’m cautious.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Whatever you say, shorty.”
“Hey!”
***
Jensen’s up and about with no trouble after a few days at Jared’s house, and he learns three things pretty fast. 1.) Jared lives in the middle of the woods with two dogs that, as it turns out, love Jensen. A lot. 2.) When he’s not afraid that Jensen will pass out at any second, Jared? Never. Shuts. Up. 3.) Again, when he’s not afraid that Jensen will pass out at any second, Jared has absolutely no respect for personal boundaries. Ever. Jensen’s convinced that if he didn’t lock the door when he showered, Jared would be right there in the stall beside him trying to hug or something.
And it doesn’t really matter that Jensen thinks it’s a little cute because they? Have no hope.
***
Jensen could live on coffee. He’s always known that, but after having to go without it for weeks while he was being held in that hell of a cell? He’s surprised he survived the experience. But now that he’s free, he drinks it all day long, completely ignoring Jared’s bitching that it’s bad for him in such obscene quantities. But Jared inhales sugar 24/7, so he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to giving advice for healthy living.
He goes into the kitchen to refill his cup and runs into Jared coming in with groceries. With as much as this guy eats, Jensen’s surprised Jared doesn’t just live at the grocery store and save himself the trouble.
“And how many cups does that make today?” Jared uses his chin to point at the mug in Jensen’s hand while he sets the grocery bags on the counter.
Shrugging, Jensen noses through the bags, “Lost count.”
“I’ll bet.” He busies himself putting things away, and it’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to avoid looking at Jensen but Jensen has absolutely no idea why.
“What’s up?”
“I, uh, heard from Jeff this morning.”
Oh. “And?”
“They’re still looking for you pretty hard, so he can’t come by for a while. I told him you’re feeling better; that you’ve recovered really fast.”
“Always did recoup quick.”
“Yeah,” Jared offers a small smile, but he still looks uneasy. “Um, he says that you need to keep out of sight, so you need to stay here at least a few more days. Probably more.”
Jensen blinks. He still doesn’t get what’s up with Jared. “Okay.”
Instantly, Jared’s eyes widen. “You mean…you don’t mind…” he makes vague gestures to the house around them that Jensen is surprised to see that he understands.
“I don’t mind staying here with you a little longer, as long as you don’t mind,” he grins. And again, he’s shocked to know that he means it. Jared’s a good guy, and if Jensen has to stay with him a few more days? Well, that is just fine with him. He’ll be on his way soon enough, no matter how much he might not want to be.
***
Jensen notices that Jared takes the dogs for a run every morning before dawn, so he gets up ridiculously early to go along the next day. Usually anything that happens before the sun comes up is banned in Jensen’s book, but he needs this. He needs to get back in shape for when he has to run again. And he definitely needs to get familiar with the surrounding terrain, in case he has to make a quick getaway. Besides, it’s not exactly a hardship to spend some extra time with Jared.
So that’s why he’s leaning against the wall beside the backdoor with his eyes mostly closed at 6:20 am. He hears Jared’s surprised huff of laughter when he comes out, but he keeps his eyes shut those last few precious seconds.
“You sure you want to come running with us? I mean, just a few days ago you looked like you were on death’s door,” Jared comments.
Jensen opens his eyes to see Jared scratching both dogs behind their ears, and he has to swallow. “I feel fine. Like I said, I’ve always recouped fast. Besides, I need to see how out of shape I am now.” He throws in a grin that he hopes will help convince Jared of his innocent sincerity, and evidently it works since Jared beams back at him.
“Okay, let’s get going.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Jensen’s hand is propped against a tree, holding him up.
Beside him, Jared is chuckling. Bastard. “I warned you, man.”
And Jensen would totally respond to that. If he could get enough air into his lungs. That seems to be a problem currently.
“Should I walk you back to the house?”
Immediately, Jensen shakes his head, still gasping for breath.
“Dude. You look like you’re about to pass out. Jeff is going to kill me if I nursed you back to health just to turn around and get you killed on a simple jog.”
Jensen flips him off.
Full out laughing now, Jared squats down to pet the dogs again. “Alright, we’ll take a few minutes, then start back up. And we’ll take a slower pace this time. Deal?”
All Jensen can do is nod. But at least he’s not gasping anymore.
***
Jensen doesn’t want to think about how far he makes it in their run before he’s gasping for breath again - it would just depress him. Best to think of it as motivation to get back into shape as fast as possible. Because if the powers that be decided to come after him now? He wouldn’t even make a descent showing of resistance, and that’s just too dismal to think about.
So that settles it. He’s going to run with Jared and the dogs every morning until he’s back up to par. Even if it kills him. Which, getting up before dawn and running before he’s gotten his coffee? Just might.
***
Jared turns to Jensen once he pauses Live Free or Die Hard just as McClane is gearing up to kill some more bad guys. “Would it ruin your mystery guy image if I asked you where in Texas you’re from?”
Jensen swallows the bite of pizza in his mouth, and sets the rest of the piece on the paper plate in his lap. As if sensing his unease, Harley, who’s lying down at his feet, raises his head to look up at Jensen. Time to employ the first lesson in handling friendly interrogation: stall. “What makes you think I’m from Texas?”
“The accent. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
He doesn’t quite know how to answer because he really doesn’t want to lie to Jared - which is enough of a shock - but telling the truth is just not an option. “Richardson.”
“I’m from San Antonio, and please don’t tell me you’re a Mavs fan.”
The side of his mouth quirks up slightly when he turns back to the television. “Alright, I won’t…as long as you don’t say you’re a Spurs fan. Now play the damn movie; I want to see McClane blow shit up.”
***
Out by the backdoor the next morning, Jensen pointedly ignores Jared’s chuckling just beside him.
“Dude,” Jared grins, “you’re not ready to go running yet. There’s nothing wrong with that. You need to ease back into activity, man.”
It takes a moment for Jensen to stop wheezing long enough to reply. “Don’t have time to ease back in.” He finally pushes away from the house and forces himself to stand straight. “Besides, I’m fine. Did a lot better today. And I’ll keep getting better until I can beat your ass.”
“Whatever, man.” Jared is shaking his head, but he’s still smiling, so Jensen isn’t worried. “Sit down here on the step with me before you fall down.” He even pats the cement step right next to his thigh to emphasize his point. And yeah, maybe Jensen’s a little tired. So he sits.
They stay there, looking out into the woods behind Jared’s house, while both dogs pant at their feet. Not for the first time, Jensen wonders what the hell Jared does. He never leaves unless he’s going to buy groceries - which they go through a ton of almost daily, thanks to Jared’s giant appetite - and Jared definitely doesn’t seem like a park ranger type. Unable to fight his curiosity any longer, Jensen finally asks, “What is it you do, man?”
Jared shrugs. “I write books for young adults.”
“You mean teenagers?”
“Yeah. Every now and then I get inspired and try to write a full novel, but I just can’t seem to stick with it.”
Laughing, Jensen slaps a hand on Jared’s shoulder and can feel the wet heat from Jared’s skin through his shirt, and that’s just something he has to ignore. Right now. He pulls his hand back to his lap, unable to stop himself from clenching it to keep the warmth just a few moments more. When he speaks again, he’s surprised his voice sounds so level. “Got the attention span of a four year old, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Screw you!” But again, Jared is smiling large enough for his dimples to come out, so Jensen simply chuckles in response.
“Hey now. Behave or no snack time today.”
“Dude, even you wouldn’t be cruel enough to deprive a man of his candy.”
“Try me.”
***
“I think Jeff is going to try to come up this weekend to see how you’re doing,” Jared says over breakfast later.
Jensen nods as he gulps down a whole cup of hot, fresh coffee.
“What are you, man?”
That causes Jensen to pause. He freezes in his seat, nervous eyes searching Jared’s face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean how you can drink that coffee black and so hot I’m afraid to touch the cup. Your taste buds must be dead. Or comatose.”
Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Jensen shrugs. “Not my fault you’re a pussy.”
“Whatever. You just wish you were as tall and manly as me,” he says, straightening up in his seat.
Jensen throws a dubious glance to the top of Jared’s head. “Yeah, no, Sasquatch. You keep your freakish height; I’ll stay down here among the land of the humans.”
Laughing, Jared goes to throw the last bite of his bacon, but thinks better on it and pops it into his mouth.
“Do you ever stop eating?” Jensen asks, because yeah. That’s the fourth thing he’s learned since waking up in Jared’s house. The man eats 18 hours of the day, and spends the rest dreaming of eating.
Jared leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach contentedly before thrusting it out so he has a little pooch.
An eyebrow rises. “You’re pregnant, huh? That explains a lot.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Remember, snack time is in jeopardy if you’re a naughty sasquatch.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
***
Friday morning, Jensen makes it thirty whole minutes into their run before he’s ready to pass out against a tree. He thinks it’s quite an accomplishment, but he’s not nearly as proud of it as Jared seems to be. The latter keeps slapping him on the back - not exactly helping Jensen to get his breath back - and grinning so wide that his dimples appear permanent - yeah, that one’s not helping Jensen catch his breath either.
“You keep going like this, and you might actually make the whole jog without stopping by the end of next week,” Jared says.
Jensen just nods because he’s still a little winded.
“Jen?”
Oh no. Jensen doesn’t like the tone of Jared’s voice. He’s heard it from other people enough to know that he’s not going to appreciate what comes next. “Yeah?”
“I know you said that you recoup fast, but. It just seems…”
Shit. “Good genetics. What can I say?” Taking a deep breath he starts jogging again. “Race you back!”
Behind him, he can hear Jared huff out a laugh and both dogs bark in excitement.
***
Jensen can see Jared’s dimples from across the room when Jeff shows up Saturday morning. “Jeff, come on in, man.”
“Jared, I can’t thank you enough for helping. Really.” He reaches out and throws one arm around Jared to pat him on the back. Moving away, he turns to Jensen. “Jensen,” Jeff grins, “it’s good to see you like this. How are you feeling?”
Jensen’s not really sure how to react to Jeff. How to greet him, especially after seeing him hug Jared. So he offers a small smile and takes a single step forward. “Hey. I’m good. Um, thanks. For saving me and all.”
Nodding, he responds, “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
Jared immediately raises his hands, “Nah, y’all stay here. I’ll take the dogs for a walk.”
The two of them sit across from each other at the kitchen table. “I assume Jared told you that they’re still looking for you,” Jeff says as Jared herds the dogs outside.
“Yeah, he passed it along.”
“Jensen,” he hesitates, “you and I both know they’re not going to give up.”
Shit. And yeah, he knew, but it’s different to actually hear it. What little hope he had vanishes with the realization that he’s going to have to run. Soon. He just nods.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
It doesn’t escape Jensen’s notice that Jeff didn’t ask what he was going to do, and Jensen appreciates that. But yeah, what is he going to do? It’s risky. Jensen knows that it’s risky, but Jeff’s been good to him so far. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he won’t turn around and screw Jensen at the first opportunity, though. But. He has to know. He has to try. “What happened to the ship?”
“Jensen, I can’t help you with that.”
He shakes his head. “Just. What happened to it?”
“No one’s going to be flying that thing any time soon. The crash messed it up pretty bad; you’re lucky to be alive, not to mention unharmed.”
Jensen scrubs a hand over his face, biting back his groan. What the fuck is he supposed to do? “Does anything still work?”
“No, but several teams of scientists are working on it. They’ll get something out of it eventually.”
Fuck! He can’t let the Air Force keep the ship, but how in the hell is he supposed to get it back?
“What are they going to find, Jensen?”
Too many things that he can’t allow them to find. This time it’s Jensen’s smile that’s sad. “Where are they keeping the ship?”
“I can’t,” Jeff shakes his head. “I can’t do that, Jensen. It’s one thing to help you, but…I can’t do that.”
“I’m not asking you to help me.” Jensen feels guilty. He actually feels guilty for asking, and that is just. He has no idea how to process that. But without Jeff’s help, getting the pieces of his ship out is going to be pretty hard. Damn near impossible. If only he had the others…
Immediately he pushes away that thought. He can’t let himself think about the others right now. He can’t afford to have any slipups, even if they’re only in his head.
Jeff sighs. “Look, I’m probably not going to be able to get back here for a while. Since I broke you out, security is nearly air-tight. With that, and with trying to keep up appearances, it was hard enough to come this time. I’ll try to keep you informed of what’s going on through Jared, but…I probably won’t see you again.”
Forcing himself to swallow, Jensen fists his hands. “Okay. Um. You know I…if I could…I’d tell you…”
“Thanks.” His smile is soft this time as he stands up. “Take care of yourself.”
Jensen only nods for a moment because he can’t seem to get his voice to work. “…Yeah. Thank you. Again.”
“I couldn’t watch you die like that. You didn’t deserve it.”
“How did you…?”
“Your eyes.”
He has no idea what comes over him, but he stands and moves around the table to Jeff. Jensen hugs Jeff close and squeezes even tighter when Jeff’s arms embrace him too.
***
Jeff’s gone by the time Jared gets back. Jared doesn’t ask what they talked about. He doesn’t ask when Jeff will be back. He doesn’t ask why Jensen is visibly shaken.
And Jensen loves him a little more for that.
***
Jensen’s more than a little pissed at himself for not seeing it coming.
It happens around 6pm on the second Saturday that he’s with Jared. There’s an insistent knock at the door while they’re eating the steaks that Jensen had thrown on the grill outside, and their laughter immediately falls quiet. Both set down their forks and knives and just stare at each other.
“Jeff said he wasn’t…”
“Yeah.”
Jared gets up and walks to the door, Jensen just behind but out of sight of the door. He doesn’t know why, but he’s got a very bad feeling about who’s at the door and he wants to be close in case Jared needs him. And he does.
Jensen can hear it in Jared’s voice when he greets the visitor. The cold politeness - such a contrast from Jared’s usual warm demeanor - and just a hint of fear.
“Mr. Padalecki,” a male voice says. “May we come in?” Shit, there’s more than one of them.
“Um, what’s this about?” Jared asks.
“We really should talk about this inside.”
“I’d like to know what it’s about before I let you into my house.”
There’s a tense pause that Jensen can feel even at his distance. Finally, the guy cracks, “We understand that you’re a friend of U.S. Air Force Colonel Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Is that correct?”
Jensen’s first instinct is to grab Jared and run. Run as fast as he can. But they might just be checking in; they might not know that Jensen’s there. Though it kills him, he has to wait. He has to see if they know.
“Yeah, I know Jeff. Has something happened to him?” Jared asks, the fear becoming more evident.
“Colonel Morgan is fine. We’re here investigating a security breach under Colonel Morgan’s command. He came to visit you right after the breach and we believe he hid something here.”
FUCK!
“Well, Jeff brought out a pizza and a few beers, but that was about it. Sorry I can’t help you, gentlemen.”
Jensen can hear the front door squeaking as Jared closes it, but a thud sounds right before the stranger says, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist you let us in.”
And that does it.
He moves as fast as he can, coming out of his hiding place and getting to Jared’s side at the front door. There are two men, one in a black suit and the other in a uniform, trying to push Jared back so they can gain entrance, and Jensen’s pretty sure there are more outside just dying to get inside. The guy in the uniform reaches for Jared and yeah. Jensen goes a little nuts and punches him right in the face as hard as he can.
The guy in the suit makes a grab for him, but Jared steps in the way. Jensen looks over just in time to see Jared kick at the suit’s kneecaps, then knock him out with a well-placed punch.
Jensen tries really hard not to get turned on because they have absolutely no time.
He fails pretty spectacularly.
***
Jared grabs Jensen’s hand and pulls him through the house to the backdoor. Jensen’s suspects that there are going to be several men waiting back there for them, and what do you know.
He’s right.
At least they have the element of surprise on their side because they come out swinging and manage to take care of the two guys at the backdoor.
The problem is that there are about six more guys in uniform heading their way right now. And that’s when Jensen pushes Jared towards the tree line in front of them because the woods are dense and it’s just dark enough that they may lose the uniforms.
Unfortunately, that’s also when the bad guys break out their guns.
“Holy shit! They’re shooting at us!” Jared screams as he ducks into the woods, Jensen right beside him.
“Just keep running!”
Behind him, he hears the dogs barking, a few distant shouts of pain, and more people coming than he wants to think about. They’ve got to get away somehow. He refuses to go back to that room, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let them get their hands on Jared.
Jared reaches out to nudge Jensen to the right, guiding him to an enormous tree that has no branches within reach. What the hell does Jared expect him to do? Fly up the side of it? But before he can ask, Jared’s got his hands on Jensen’s ass and he’s pushing him up the tree to the lowest branch.
It isn’t graceful, but he gets up there fast enough to reach down and help Jared up before their pursuers can find them.
***
They wait it out, silently. And for several minutes, when the uniformed men are close, neither even dares to breathe. Beside Jensen, Jared has one hand over his mouth and one on his chest, over his heart. Jensen’s not really sure about the reasoning, but it appears to keep Jared calm and quiet, and that’s all Jensen can ask for right about now.
When they’re sure that the uniformed men are nowhere around, Jared lowers his hands and turns to Jensen. “Okay, I lied. You’re going to need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”
Oh hell, what he wouldn’t give to not have this conversation. “Jared…I can’t. I wish I could, but-”
“Jensen,” Jared interrupts, “you have to give me something. I just got shot at!”
“If it helps, they were probably tranquilizer darts.”
“What?”
“They want me alive. They wouldn’t have risked shooting in my general direction with real bullets.”
Jared takes a moment to digest that. “Who are you?”
He really doesn’t want to go into this with Jared right now, but he’s got to make Jared see! He’s got to make him drop it. “What did you think was going to happen when Jeff brought me to you? What did you think I was?”
“I don’t know!” His arms fly around him wildly, and Jensen actually has to duck at one point. “I thought maybe the military thought you were a terrorist and Jeff knew you weren’t! But they don’t do…that for a suspected terrorist, do they? I mean, I don’t know a lot about military protocol but that seemed a little weird to me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Jensen. Help me out here.”
And Jared sounds so. Something. Something that he should never be, and that’s the only reason Jensen can think of that explains why he gives as much as he can. “I crashed not too far from here. At least, I think not too far from here. I wasn’t really awake for the actual impact.”
He blinks. “You crashed. Like, your private plane had engine trouble midair?”
“Um. More like my ship was shot down by the U.S. Air Force.”
“Your ship?”
Jensen simply nods.
“You’re…”
“Not from around here.”
A heavy silence falls between them that lasts for several moments. Jared just keeps staring at him like he’s waiting for the punch line. God, he wishes he had one.
“Okay, so. One of us is crazy, and my money’s on you,” Jared finally says.
Sighing, Jensen scrubs a hand over his face. “I thought you’d say that.”
Part 2 | Part 3