Fic: Walk the Fire [For You] (1/2)

[non_tiembo_mala]

Jared hasn’t quite figured out how he wound up in this situation. He’s sweaty - has sweat clean through his tunic - his hair is in wild disarray, sticking to his face obstinately despite how often he’s tossing his head to get it out of his eyes, and he’s certain that by the time he locates his quarry he’ll be dirty enough to blend in with the leaf-covered earth underneath his feet.

This was supposed to be an easy venture. A two-day leisurely journey through Stull Forest, which serves as border between the Kingdoms Cortese and Pellegrino, a few days’ sit-down with Sir Mark himself to discuss a trade deal he’s brokering with the Huffmans whose lands border him to the North - it’s nothing Jared hasn’t been called upon to facilitate countless times before. As if his family’s prestigious lineage isn’t enough, growing up Jared very quickly established himself in his own right as a powerful mage and excellent source of counsel. Between himself and his older brother Jeff, who is particularly gifted in the healing arts, they do the Padalecki name proud and provide a great deal of services to the many lands surrounding theirs.

For all his wisdom, it hadn’t occurred to Jared that this might make him a target for less than savoury individuals - which is really just a testament to his genuine good nature and kind-heartedness. That being true, apart from the power he so deftly wields, in person Jared also cuts an imposing figure. At six-feet, four-inches tall and piloting a frame packed with lean muscle, few are brave enough to disrespect him. To say he was surprised when he was ambushed on the road to Pellegrino might be an understatement. To say he could have ever guessed how that encounter would play out, well, that’s another thing entirely.

Jared wasn’t too worried at first, not when the first three ruffians approached him on the path bearing sneers and flaunting their weapons. Jared keeps a dagger in his left boot - an old family habit - and he knows more than a few spells for warding and protection, not to mention the odd offensive trick up his sleeve. But the thugs just kept on coming, emerging from the trees until Jared was surrounded and his attackers numbered close to twenty. This was clearly no random attack; someone had been waiting for him specifically and their intentions were not even remotely friendly.

Jared had masked his trepidation and let his hands clench into fists at his sides, glowing bright with the threat of all that he’s capable of doing. Some among the party had appeared startled, perhaps not knowing what they were up against, but urged on by their leaders the attack commenced nonetheless. Jared narrowly avoided catching an arrow in the shoulder and the closest men were on him, knives and fists flying. The first attacker Jared connected with took a palm strike to the chest that flashed brightly on impact. The man’s body seized up and he dropped to the ground like a felled tree only to disappear in the continued onslaught. Jared went down to one knee while getting pummelled, a necessary cover for retrieving his dagger as well as beginning to cast another spell. Murmuring the words quickly under his breath while trying to protect his head, the spell culminated in a pulse of light that emanated from him like a shockwave, pushing back his attackers and knocking the closest of them onto their asses. The brief respite allowed Jared to regain his footing, tighten his grip on the hilt of his knife, and look up just in time to see the most unexpected thing - a dragon.

The creature was massive but lean and sleek in the lines of its long body, which was covered in an armour of dark scales. Where it crashed through the treetops, it left a huge, gaping hole in the canopy and rays of sunshine streamed in behind it, turning its impressive covering a brilliant emerald in the bright light. It roared and even from its airborne position Jared felt the resulting tremor at his core. The very ground shook with the beating of its extraordinary wings and Jared could see both its talons and teeth from where he stood - neither were anything he wanted to see from any closer.

The men still on their feet had scattered immediately. They took off into the woods while others felt the scorching hot wrath of the creature as it breathed its fiery breath across the path. Jared stumbled back to outrun it only to find that the beast kept all of its attention on Jared’s fleeing attackers while moving itself into position above him. Jared could hardly conceive of why, but it certainly looked as though the dragon was… protecting him? He was more than happy to retreat to its sizeable shadow and watch in awe as it laid waste to the trap that Jared had walked into. As the last of the brutes took to the trees, Jared’s eyes fell on the leader - an older, ugly man with yellowed eyes and a sallow face - as he lined up the shot with his arrow. The tip of it dripped and Jared suddenly understood - it'd been laced with something.

“No!” he’d shouted as he threw a hand out in front of him, feeling the ripple of his magic kick back across his skin while the white-hot light shot from his palm, but it was too late. In the next breath, the man was knocked down by Jared’s spell, crying out as it burned him, but the arrow was already loosed.

The dragon had screeched and its anguished cry was piercing and broken. Jared watched as it thrashed in the air with the arrow lodged under a scale at the joint where one of its majestic wings met its body.

“No…” Jared had exhaled, panicked. Dragons were all but rumour now - had been for centuries - and Jared couldn’t believe his luck. To actually see one, only to witness the incredible creature come to such harm as it defended Jared from the men who’d meant to do him injury - it broke Jared’s heart.

The beast had flown away, awkward and lopsided - clearly pained - and sunk lower to the earth as it went, knocking into trees and branches in its path.

Jared was frozen as he'd watched it disappear in the distance, standing alone but for the few bodies that remained - some smoking and charred - in the grass around him. He'd barely even debated before he blinked and sprang to action, taking off into the woods in the direction of his injured rescuer.

It feels now like he’s been forcing his way through the brush for ages and still nothing. Jared only knows he’s still headed in the right direction for the wake of fractured trees that indicate the dragon’s passing.

He’s absolutely focused on the task at hand - tracking down the injured creature - but his mind is racing in a dozen different directions. He’s worried that someone seemingly is out to get him, and he’s worried about his now waylaid meeting with Pellegrino. Genevieve and Danneel - his two closest friends - are going to be furious that this happened, that he took his leave of their company, refusing an escort for his journey, only to be ambushed enroute. He also isn’t sure what his immediate plan is. His instinct told him to seek out the dragon so he didn’t hesitate, but what happens when he finds it? It’s injured and perhaps that makes it even more dangerous. Maybe Jared can’t even help it - it’s always been Jeff who did all the healing, and while Jared knows his way around the basics, he doubts that knowledge will get him far in this situation.

He sighs and tries to force away the worry, focusing instead on the way his gut feelings ground him and give him strength. He trudges onward and pushes a branch out of his face before stumbling into a small clearing. Brushing the leaves and other debris from his sleeves and giving his head another shake to clear the hair from his eyes, Jared takes in his new surroundings.

There’s a small, sheltered stone cottage with a thickly thatched roof. It looks like something from a time long past - old, forgotten and in disrepair, the grounds around it hardly maintained in any way. The trees at the edge of the clearing are damaged and it looks like the weary dwelling only narrowly avoided a similar fate, because lying in the tall grass before it is the dragon.

Not that he currently looks like the great, hulking beast that set the forest ablaze. Instead, sprawled awkwardly and face-down in the lawn, there is a man. Still, he can only be the creature Jared is seeking. The clearest giveaway is that despite the human body, there are still two horns that protrude from the front of his head, out of a mess of dirty blonde hair. They’re smooth, a rich charcoal ringed with amber, and they guarantee that even in his human form this age-old creature could never be mistaken for anything else. His skin is winter pale despite the summer sun that filters through the forest above, and freckles are littered across his shoulders and down his arms. He’s naked and looks more than a little worse for wear; dirt and already-blooming bruises mar him, and the arrow that struck him is still there, wedged deeply into the front of his shoulder and propping it up at an unnatural angle where he lies.

Under any other circumstances Jared would surely blush and stutter because even just the dragon’s backside is, well, beautiful, and while Jared favours other men in theory, he’s never allowed himself to test that out in practice. Jared has deliberately led a life without such emotional attachments, and it has served him well thus far, making it easier to up and leave at a moment’s notice and travel for uncertain periods of time, wandering here and there as his services are required. But now is hardly the time to be distracted by such musings, and so Jared quickly gets to his knees at the dragon’s side, gently easing him onto his back so Jared can better look at the damage.

The arrow is well-lodged into his flesh; the gash around the shaft is rough and blood still oozes from it. His chest is painted with sanguine streaks, bright and bold on the pale canvas of his skin, but as gruesome a sight as the injury makes, Jared gasps not at it but at the dragon’s face.

Even with smears of earth across his cheeks and eyes closed in his unconscious state, Jared is certain the dragon is the most handsome man he’s ever seen. More freckles dance across the bridge of his nose. He has a strong jaw and fine features, soft in sleep, long lashes and the pinkest, plushest lips. Jared swallows hard and makes himself focus on what’s important. He’s got to get the creature inside, somewhere safe and dry, and get to work extricating the arrow. Surely there’ll be time for gawking later when the dragon’s life is not so endangered.

Jared adamantly tries not to let his attention wander down the inviting length of the dragon’s body and instead gets back on his feet. He opens the door of the small dwelling and feels reasonably certain that it belongs to the dragon. Inside is a fireplace, a large down mattress in the corner covered in skins and heavy wool blankets, a small table with a single chair, a shelf jam-packed with books that appear to be much older than Jared, as well as an ancient-looking chest. The place is absolutely a mess, stacks of books and random items strewn about wherever there is space.

Jared goes back to the dragon and bends down to tuck his hands underneath his shoulders. He closes his eyes and speaks an incantation quietly under his breath. Light radiates out from underneath the injured creature and Jared stands, effortlessly raising the body with him and guiding it into the cottage.

Jared sets the dragon down in what presumably is his bed, quickly drawing the covers up to his waist. He sets his pack down on the table and, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he surveys the hovel for items he can use. He’s got work to do.

---

It’s many hours later and well after dark when Jared finally drops into the chair, his work done, and wipes the sweat from his brow, brushing the mess of his hair off his face. There’s a roaring fire in the hearth and water still boils in the cauldron that hangs above the flames. Jared will have to thank his big brother for always insisting he have medical supplies with him when he travels, since he was glad for the needle and thread to sew the wound shut once the arrow had been removed. Jared had to conjure up the water for the pot himself, not wanting to waste time searching the unfamiliar area.

It’s been a long time since Jared has had to stitch anyone up, but he’s quite pleased with the results of his efforts, and now the injury is closed and carefully wrapped with fresh, clean cotton bandages. The bloodied arrow Jared cleaned as well by dipping into the boiling water, and it now rests on the otherwise empty table. Jared sighs, exhausted and satisfied that he’s done all he can for the time being, and he reaches into his pack for the folded cloth that contains his forgotten lunch. He picks the wax off the cheese and breaks off pieces, eating slowly and allowing himself to contemplate the creature still sleeping before him.

Lit only by the flames of the fire and the moonlight pouring in the window, he looks somehow even more beautiful than he did in the daylight. Jared figures it’s fitting that the way the firelight dances across his skin makes him seem to be ablaze himself, considering that the creature does in fact burn hotly inside, even in this form if the occasional small clouds of smoke are anything to go by. As he finishes his cheese and reaches for the small loaf of bread, Jared tries not to worry that the dragon barely stirred even as Jared tended to him. He seems in a peaceful sleep for now, so Jared tries to take that as a good sign. Jared knows there are some elixirs he can mix to aid the healing process, maybe ease some of his pain, but the dragon will need to be conscious to consume them, and at this very moment Jared’s own exhaustion is getting the better of him. Finished with his meal, Jared feels the day’s efforts settle in as an overwhelming weariness. He tucks away the cloth and lays out a blanket where he can find space on the straw-covered floor. He reaches for his pack to use it as a makeshift pillow, massaging the items inside until he finds a comfortable dip for his head, and promptly falls asleep.



Jensen wakes up slowly, as though consciousness is staying just one step out of reach, and then suddenly all at once as the pain registers. He groans and shifts as his eyes blink open. He’s back in his bed - still naked underneath his blankets - though he doesn’t remember getting there. His body feels heavy like a rock and aches sharply when he moves, waves of pain radiating from where he was struck by the arrow. The goddamn arrow-! He curses internally at the memory, feeling his chest, throat and nose heat with the puff of smoke that rises with his anger. His scales are thick and impenetrable, but it would be his bloody luck that the first time he ventures out in years some goon gets lucky and finds a chink in his armour.

Jensen winces as he tugs down the blanket and looks at his shoulder. The arrow is gone and in its place are bandages wrapped snuggly around and under his arm. He blinks, confused, because he absolutely did not do any of this himself and he has no recollection of who did. He tries to shimmy back against his pillow and sits up somewhat despite the way it pulls at what feels like stitches under the bandage, and as he settles again his eyes finally fall to the strange man lying on his floor, facing away from him and presumably sleeping.

Jensen’s eyes immediately narrow and he can feel his chest burn hotly.

There is a stranger. In his house. And worse still, the stranger is a goddamn Padalecki. Jensen’s lip twitches up in a snarl and smoke escapes his mouth but he clenches his jaw and his fists, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

The man’s only saving grace - apart from the sorcery that landed Jensen in this mess to begin with - is that Jensen can only assume he’s responsible for getting him back home and patching him up. If the man is looking for gratitude, he can damn well look somewhere else. He won’t be getting any from Jensen, that’s for sure. All of this is the man’s fault anyway. Jensen hates people to begin with - having lived his long, long life as a thorny hermit - but any Padalecki especially will find no welcome with him.

Jensen moves to get up, not really sure of his own intention except to wake the man and forcibly remove him from the premises if need be, except pain shoots through him and he’s suddenly struck weak and lightheaded, collapsing back down onto his bed. He sighs and it’s more of a disgruntled rumble, more wisps of smoke appearing with his growing frustration. He huffs and resigns himself to his current position.

He wants to roar, shake the rafters and startle the man awake, but for all his quick temper and dislike of company, he has lived a very long time and dragons are wise, quick wits. He knows, with sobering understanding, that for the immediate time being anyway, he’s stuck where he is and at the mercy of the person who has already begun to help him. The realization makes him sneer again but there’s nothing to be done about it. If he can’t even sit upright in bed on his own, he’s going to have to suffer more assistance of the mortal currently taking up space on his floor.

Finally, he sighs again and deflates. He may have to put up with this situation but he doesn’t have to like it and he definitely does not have to be pleasant about it.

Finished fuming, Jensen looks around the room to survey the effects of his uninvited guest. The man’s tanned jacket is slung across the back of Jensen’s chair and his boots are tucked away underneath it. The fire in the hearth is nothing more than a pile of ashes and the arrow from Jensen’s shoulder is lying on his table. The Padalecki’s stocking-clad feet poke out the bottom of the blanket under which he barely fits - he appears to be rather tall - and his head of shaggy, soft brown hair rests on his pack. His body rises slowly and steadily with each silent breath and Jensen finds himself annoyed by the man’s peaceful, oblivious sleep. The fire that burns deep in his belly churns and Jensen can feel himself try to tense up but his body resists him. His eyes feel heavy and his head swims. It would seem he lacks the energy even for anger. His lashes flutter and his body goes slack as he succumbs once again to sleep.



It’s early morning when Jared wakes. His neck and back are a little sore and stiff from sleeping on the floor - something he hasn’t done in recent memory - but he tries to be quiet as he stretches out the kinks and twists his spine before standing up. The dragon still sleeps, but as Jared looks at him closely, he seems pained even at rest, which makes Jared furrow his brow in concern.

He quietly slips outside to relieve himself and collect some wood to start up the fire again. Once it’s burning steadily, Jared rolls up his blanket, setting it and his pack neatly against the wall behind the chair. He spares a final glance at his unknowing host before heading back outside, this time to forage for some of the wild herbs that he knows will help with swelling and inflammation, in addition to keeping his patient sleepy so that he continues to rest and let his body heal.

It doesn’t take Jared long to track down the familiar flowers and weeds, things he’s hunted for with his brother while they were growing up, learning everything from their mother, who was also a world-renowned healer. During the course of his search, he finds a small spring that’s not too far from the cottage. It will supply him more fresh water as needed as well as providing him a place to wash up when he next gets the chance. For now, the splash of water on his face will have to do.

When he returns to the cottage, he sets to work right away preparing his bouquet of herbs and drops them into the pot over the fire to steep. Jared sits quietly in the chair, minding the concoction, and when it’s ready - the rich, earthy smell of it heavy in the air - he digs his own cup out of his bag to pour it into, not about to go rummaging through the dragon’s personal belongings.

With the cup of steaming hot liquid in his hand, Jared is suddenly anxious. This has been easy because the dragon has slept. It’s important that he drink this and Jared will have to wake him for it; to say he’s apprehensive is an understatement. He hovers a moment looking down at the creature before reminding himself that it was the dragon that came to his aid, so at least there’s that. He clings to that encouragement as he sits down on the edge of the dragon’s bed.

The mattress is firm, not shifting too much under his weight, and the dragon doesn’t stir. Jared bites at his bottom lip another long moment while he collects the courage to speak. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath.

“Hey,” he starts gently. “I need you to wake up for me…”

Jared tentatively reaches out to stroke the dragon’s face, if for no other reason than it is such a beautiful, tempting face, when the creature’s eyes blink open. Jared is caught - frozen in his gaze. They’re a bright, piercing emerald green, immediately bringing to mind the gem tones of the dragon’s scales, and Jared holds his breath with the elixir gripped tightly in one hand while the other is stopped midway between them.

The dragon looks him up and down and then returns his gaze to his face, eyes going wide as they take him in and finally narrowing harshly.

“Don’t you touch me,” the dragon hisses, and Jared’s own eyes go wide when a small plume of smoke escapes from between the creature’s bared teeth.



A soft voice breaks into Jensen’s dreamless sleep and he blinks awake. He’s still groggy and weak; it takes him a moment to focus and understand, but there’s a gently smiling face in front of his eyes, with dimples and bright, multi-coloured eyes. It’s a nice face, Jensen thinks vaguely, and while he doesn’t know all that many to compare it to, he’s pleasantly surprised by the pleasing features of the man in front of him-

All at once he finds his clarity and his mood immediately sours for the outrageous turn of his own thoughts. Defensive, he glares at the man sitting - uninvited - in his space, on the edge of his bed, and as he notices the way the stranger’s hand is so close to his face he can barely contain his growl.

“Don’t you touch me,” he grits out and the man looks appropriately terrified. Jensen feels smug at the way the man pales and his eyes go wide, but he keeps his smirk to himself and his teeth bared instead.

There’s a long moment of quiet between them and then the stranger seems to get a hold of himself, withdrawing his hand, and then he returns Jensen’s intense glare with a resolved look of his own.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’ve made something. To help you heal,” he speaks calmly and deliberately, measured, and gestures to the cup in his hand. Jensen can smell it, it’s not entirely unappealing, but he resists purely because he’s not inclined to do anything easily.

“I don’t want your poison, human,” he spits out, sneering. The man looks in turns confused and offended.

“It’s not-” he begins, defensive, before stopping himself to try again more calmly. “I’m trying to help you, dragon. I’m not about to poison you, for god’s sake.”

The man breathes in deeply and then continues. “Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. My name is Jared. And you… you saved my life. I owe you great thanks.”

Jared looks at him in such earnestness and his voice is reverent. Jensen is very uncomfortable. He’s also wary. Jared is still a Padalecki and Jensen has been tricked by them before. It’s some kind of sick joke if Jared really thinks he owes Jensen anything, considering Jensen doesn’t have any choice in the matter. And yet, Jared’s apparent sincerity still manages to unsettle and confuse Jensen enough that Jared gives up waiting for an answer and resumes speaking.

“Anyway, I saw that you were injured and followed the obvious trail of destruction that lead me to where you crash-landed at your own doorstep. You were so out of it you didn’t even flinch when I removed the arrow. I’ve stitched you up but the bandages need to be tended to and you’re clearly weak. Please, let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”

He holds the cup out to him and Jensen wants to scoff at him. The least he can do, ha! Jensen isn’t sure what to make of this Padalecki in particular but he’s still left with no choice but to accept because, loathe as he is to admit it - he absolutely will do no such thing aloud - Jared is right.

Jensen doesn’t say anything, only reaches for the cup with his good arm. His fingers close over Jared’s and Jared’s other hand is close underneath the cup to keep it steady as it transfers between them. Jensen is vaguely aware that it’s the first time he’s been touched by another person in… more centuries than he can remember. He might be more distracted by that thought except Jared’s fingers are sliding out from underneath his, leaving the mug in Jensen’s hand.

Jensen manages to hold it but the weight of it seems unreasonably difficult for him to keep up considering it’s nothing and he’s a goddamn dragon. His entire arm shakes with the effort and as he tries to bring the trembling cup to his lips the hot liquid inside sloshes up and spills over the rim.

“Here- stop. Let me, please,” Jared fumbles to get his own hands back on the mug and Jensen lets him take it even though what’s coming feels like a serious beating on his pride.

He struggles to sit up a little more against his pillow, wincing when it hurts him, and he’s exhausted, practically panting with the effort when he finally settles. Jared is watching him with unveiled concern.

“There now. Ready?” He starts to bring the cup to Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen rolls his eyes.

“Yes. Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Jensen glares at him and Jared sighs in return, exasperated.

Jared purses his lips and focuses on his task, carefully placing the cup against Jensen’s bottom lip and tipping it up, allowing the liquid to pour into his mouth. They get through it all in silence, Jared being annoyingly attentive and considerate, pausing to give Jensen breaks because even this seems to drain his energy.

When the cup is finally empty, Jared turns and leans away to set it down on the table. When he turns back to face Jensen, worry is etched in the lines across his forehead. Jensen feels more drowsy with every passing second. He begins to suspect there was something in that elixir after all, but he’s too tired and dopey to even muster up the accusation.

Jared sighs heavily beside him.

“Just, relax. You need lots of rest. I’m not about to leave you,” Jared says it like it’s a promise, like it’s supposed to be reassuring. Jensen does huff out a small, hot, smokey laugh at that.

“Pity,” he manages to get out, and he catches the way Jared frowns and narrows his eyes at him before he shuts his own. It makes him grin, sly and full of teeth. He hears Jared sigh and somehow the sound is already… familiar.

“D’you at least have a name, dragon?”

Jensen considers saying nothing. He’s already half gone to sleep and maybe that’s why he answers after all.

“Jensen,” he breathes out, quiet, and finally drifts off entirely.



Jared sits quietly at Jensen’s bedside, watching him fall back asleep. As far as Jared is concerned, his earlier suspicions about the liquid on the arrow head are bolstered by the dragon’s seriously weakened state. Unfortunately, only time will tell if he’s going to get better or worse. Moreover, Jared has no idea what to make of the dragon. He does understand that as far as the lore goes, dragons are known to be bristley and unfriendly, but Jared is trying to nurse him back to health. The sheer level of apparent disdain the creature has for him is both unfortunate and makes his rescue of Jared that much more puzzling.

Jared sighs and moves to the table to eat some of the jerky from his bag for breakfast. While Jensen sleeps, he might as well tidy up inside the cottage and clean up himself, too. He resolves to bathe down in the spring and collect more water to keep on hand.

It’s a quiet and productive day, if trying to organize the dragon’s large and varied collection of dusty old tomes can be called productive. By nightfall, however, Jared is worried. Jensen hasn’t woken, though he has occasionally mumbled and loosed some smoke in his sleep, grumbling about being left alone and cursed humans. It made Jared roll his eyes at the time but now that the moon lights the sky and Jensen is shivering relentlessly, his teeth chattering audibly in his mouth, Jared is far from laughing. Jensen’s whole body looks tense, the muscles in his chest twitching and his arms occasionally shaking as the fibers inside flex subconsciously. Jared tugs down the blanket to expose more of Jensen’s skin and help the heat escape. Jensen is sweating profusely. It’s dripping off his face and pooling in the hollow of his throat, as well as soaking clean through his bandage, which is steeping pink with watered-down traces of blood.

Earlier in the day he collected more herbs and they’ve been brewing in the boiling water so they’re ready the next time Jensen wakes or Jared deems it necessary to wake him, but if a fever is setting in, Jensen is surely going to need more than the basic concoction that Jared has going. He really wishes Jeff were with him; this is his brother’s area of expertise, not his.

Jared gingerly removes the soiled bandage, careful where the cotton catches in the stitches, and has the materials for a clean replacement on hand, right next to a freshly poured mug of tea. When he’s ready, he extends a hand to the fire and reaches with his fingers, whispering under his breath. He finishes speaking and the fire extinguishes with a woosh, casting the cottage into darkness. When his eyes are adjusted, Jared soaks a cloth in water and sits on the scrap of space at edge of Jensen’s bed. He holds the cloth between his hands and works a spell in his mind, his lips moving silently to the unvoiced words. His hands glow a soft, light blue and the wet cloth cools between his palms.

Jared braces himself in the event Jensen wakes and is particularly displeased with him, but he has to help cool him down. He starts by cleaning around Jensen’s wound, then gently pats down Jensen’s chest. He folds the cloth and places it on Jensen’s forehead. As he adjusts it, making it balance so it doesn’t slide off, he’s tucking it around the base of one of Jensen’s horns when Jensen starts to shudder. Jared stills, worried.

“Jensen?” Jared is quiet and Jensen doesn’t wake. The shuddering has stopped so he resumes what he was doing, fussing over the cloth, his fingers still brushing the horn, but Jensen tenses sharply and the dragon’s eyes fly open on a gasp.

Jensen shoots upright before Jared has a chance to register. The dragon’s hand closes tightly on his wrist and yanks his hand back angrily. Jensen is baring his teeth and hissing, right in Jared’s in face.

“Never do that again!” He growls, his lips curling in a snarl. Jared is stunned and confused.

“W-what?” He stutters out, his wrist still held tightly in Jensen’s grip. Jared is all at once certain that on a good day, Jensen could probably crush the bones if he wanted.

“My horns,” Jensen is still growling, though Jared can feel that the momentary show of strength is draining him. His grip is loosening and his arm shakes. Jensen finally relents, letting go of Jared’s arm and casting it away as he drops like deadweight back to the bed. He sighs, exasperated and weak.

“I told you not to touch me,” Jensen reiterates, his eyes closing as he succumbs to his fragile state and sinks back down against the pillows.

Jared swallows thickly, flustered and embarrassed to have possibly touched Jensen somehow… inappropriately. He wills himself to relax now that Jensen isn’t actively threatening him. He takes a deep breath and resumes his initial position while reaching for the cloth, which had fallen and landed low on Jensen’s stomach in the scuffle.

“My apologies,” Jared starts sincerely. “I didn’t know- your horns- it won’t happen again.”

Jensen doesn’t open his eyes but he makes a low rumbling sound in his chest that could be more threat or agreement or something else entirely - Jared can’t be sure. Jared purses his lips together as he refolds the cloth and clears his throat.

“But I think you have a fever. You’re burning up. Please, just let me…” Jared bravely leans forward to replace the cloth, moving slowly to let Jensen know it’s coming. The dragon’s eyes open and he glares at Jared as he puts the cloth down on his forehead. Jared is especially careful not to accidentally touch the horns, and Jensen looks irritated but doesn’t move or say anything to stop him.

Jared leans back and silently cheers his tiny victory.

“I’ve made more tea. You need to stay awake to drink it, then I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when I damn well please, mortal,” Jensen returns quickly, but there’s less heat in his words than Jared imagines he hoped for. For the briefest moment, Jared almost thinks that the tiny curve on the right side of Jensen’s mouth might actually be a smile, but then it’s gone and Jared reaches for the cup.

Jensen allows Jared to help him drink again in silence. The process goes smoothly enough that when Jared puts the empty mug back down on the table and sees how Jensen still sweats, he feels emboldened enough to suggest it.

“Jensen, listen to me a moment?” Jared starts evenly, and Jensen lazily opens one eye to look at him expectantly. “I’m a mage, and a pretty good one at that-”

Jensen huffs, chuckling weakly, and it turns into a bout of coughing. Jared narrows his eyes, not appreciating Jensen’s presumptions about him or his derisive laughter, but he continues.

“-but healing is really more where my brother excels. If you would let me summon him here-”

“Absolutely not.” Jensen spits out, cutting him off.

“Jensen!” Jared scoffs. “You’re sick. I haven’t the first clue how to help you. Please-”

“I said ‘no’!” Jensen interrupts him again and this time his eyes are wide open and lit up, glowing like embers as smoke trails up from his mouth. His voice has an edge, an echo of the deafening roar Jared heard in Stull Forest, but instead of being frightened, Jared is frustrated. He wants to roar right back in the face of Jensen’s stubbornness.

“You- you’re insufferable!” Jared throws his arms up as he stands and moves away from Jensen’s bed.

“I’m a dragon,” Jensen is hissing again. “That’s my right. And one of you treacherous Padaleckis is already more than I care to suffer.”

Jared whips around at that but Jensen has already relaxed in place, satisfied that the nearly non-existent discussion is over, and his eyes are closed as he pulls the blanket back up his stomach. Jared wants to remind him he still needs to replace the bandage but there was finality to Jensen’s last words that makes Jared feel like he should keep his mouth shut for now.

Of course, Jared never told Jensen his family name, so that is certainly an interesting development. Curiouser still is the accusation and insult to his lineage. Treacherous? Jared is shocked to have the word applied to himself or his brother, who are generally both widely regarded as kind and anything but the dragon’s allegation, a disposition for which his parents were also known. But… could it be possible that his family has dealt with dragons before?

Jared gives up on the notion of rebandaging Jensen’s wound as he watches the creature succumb to sleep underneath his blanket. Even in the low light, Jared finds Jensen’s poor colour vexing. As he sits tiredly in the chair, Jared’s mind is burning with many questions, not the least of which is how long he’s really supposed to wait before summoning Jeff for help, with or without Jensen’s permission.



Jensen can’t be sure if he’s awake or dreaming. He’s dimly aware that a fever wracks his body. He finds it difficult to breathe and the heat is stifling, sweat pouring off him and soaking his bed while he tosses and turns. Sometimes he smells smoke, his own familiar thick and earthy scent. Sometimes it’s that tea the human has been feeding him, slightly bitter but earthy and floral, too. He might even taste it, too. It’s possible that Jared has woken him to pour more of the liquid past his drying lips, but Jensen can’t be sure. When he opens his eyes - if he is, indeed awake - Jared is hovering above him, soft and a little blurry in Jensen’s eyes but still beautiful, his fingers barely there and so gentle as he tilts Jensen’s head. His thumb is on Jensen’s lower lip, pulling it down just so before the cup rests there, too, and Jensen can’t quite focus on Jared’s face but he tries. Jared’s brow is tightly drawn and there are lines on his face that Jensen understands are worry but-

“...why?” Jensen croaks, and the cup slips as he speaks. The liquid spills down his chin.

“What? Jensen, please- don’t speak. I need- you have to drink this, please. Just swallow, come on…”

Jared’s voice is pleading and Jensen finds he likes the tone of it. He might be smiling as he relaxes his mouth and lets Jared keep pouring. He’s drifting though, not all together there, and Jared has to keep reminding him to swallow because the elixir keeps dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

Jensen doesn’t remember finishing the tea but there’s a cool sensation, soft pressure on his cheeks and his eyes flutter open. Jared is there again, expression still somber as he presses a cold cloth to Jensen’s face.

“Why?” Jensen’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. Is he even speaking? Is this even real? He hears Jared sigh. It’s oddly reassuring.

“Why what?” Jared asks. He’s leaning closer like maybe Jensen is speaking so quietly he needs to in order to hear him. Maybe he is, but Jensen isn’t sure he can make himself louder.

“This. You. Me…”

It makes sense in his head, the words he barely manages to scrape together. He’s not sure if he imagines that it takes time for Jared to answer or if that’s just the fever.

“Why am I helping you, you mean?” Jared is looking at him like he doesn’t understand the question. Jensen’s frustration flares - it’s a simple enough question - but he can’t find more words. He rumbles instead, feels the sound rattle low in his throat. Then there’s pressure there, too, and Jensen isn’t sure but he thinks Jared’s hand is resting in the centre of his chest.

“Shh… easy, Jensen,” Jared practically coos at him. It makes him want to growl all the more but he surprises himself and goes quiet. Jared’s hand stays on his chest, moving in smooth, easy circles. Jensen gets a little lost following the feeling.

“...saved me, remember? And you’re a dragon. You- you’re rare, and... beautiful. I would always take care of you.”

Jensen’s eyes flutter open to seek out Jared’s face, looking for some confirmation that he said what Jensen thought he heard, but Jared’s hand is gone suddenly and his face is turned away. Jensen can barely see straight, his body aches and he’s so hot he’s panting. Jensen is confused by Jared’s kindness and even more unsettled by how much he finds he wants to believe that it’s real and not just another trick, another Padalecki setting another trap.

Jensen focuses on Jared’s presence at his side, and when he feels his caretaker get up, Jensen can’t quite place it but there’s an unfamiliar feeling in his gut; it feels a little bit like longing and maybe even fear.

Jensen thinks he might see Jared’s face or feel his hands on his body again but he can’t be sure. He’s not sure of much apart from the current agony of his existence, but he does know he’s having fever dreams. They’re so much more vibrant and somehow easier to remember than the moments he thinks are waking, and he knows they’re not real only because they’re so obviously absurd. He relives moments of his youth nigh on a millennia past; he feels the indignation and anger of when he was entrapped, the smug, triumphant look on that horrible man’s face as he first tapped into Jensen’s power. Jensen wants to lash out just the same as he did that day so many years ago but even in the dream he’s weakened - by the mage before him, by his fever, by his own folly. He can only cry out, anguished, to no avail; it’s like he's watching an injustice occur to someone else, completely outside his power to do anything. He sees the faces of old friends, people he once knew, people he cared for once upon a time when he hadn’t yet learned to harden his heart to the inevitable loss and cruelties of long life. He sees Jared, too, and Jared smiles at him. Jensen’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like Jared does, or, at least, how he imagines Jared looks at him. He’s lost in the dream, his life swirling around him in pieces, all a bit of a blur until suddenly it’s sharp and staggeringly clear. Jared’s face above his, so close to his, his eyes locked on Jensen’s and then his hand is on Jensen’s face. Jensen presses into the touch despite himself, shaky and desperate, starved so long for affection and touch and suddenly aware of it - painfully, unbearably aware of it. Jared’s hand slides along his jaw and up, up until he’s gently stroking his thumb along the edge where Jensen’s horn meets his body and Jensen shudders, gasping and chasing the sensation. Jared shushes him and it sounds like he’s smiling but Jensen can’t be sure because he’s so overwhelmed he can’t open his eyes to see. Jared’s palm moves along the curve of Jensen’s horn and he can’t catch his breath, shivering with the touch even as his body is consumed by fire - the fever or his own, Jensen doesn’t know anymore, can’t tell up from down - but then Jared’s mouth is brushing his, timid and chaste, barely there and Jensen parts his lips instinctively, lets him in against his better judgement, past rational thought. He hears himself sigh Jared’s name and it’s not like any he’s utttered for centuries, nothing in his memory, and he’s surprised at how much he likes the sound.

“Jensen, hey, it- it’s okay. I’m here. It’s just a dream.”

Jared’s voice is jarring and real. Jensen’s eyes flash open, momentarily clear and focused on Jared’s face. He’s sitting in his usual spot at Jensen’s side, his now-expected look of concern somehow etched even deeper than usual. Jensen groans, both in pain and embarrassment. His body shakes as he tries to turn away from Jared’s gaze, but he doesn’t have time to dwell much before he’s drifted off again.



Five hours, as it turns out. Five hours is how long Jared waits before deciding it’s either risk Jensen’s wrath or risk Jensen’s life. The dragon had seemed to sleep peacefully a short while after Jared administered the tea. At the first signs that he was starting to take a turn for the worse, Jared woke him again for another dose; he was the weakest and least responsive he’s ever been, a good portion of the elixir going to waste because Jensen couldn’t get it down. His condition spiralled rapidly after that. Jensen tossed and turned and cried out in his sleep while Jared watched, chewing his bottom lip and waffling about contacting his brother. He finally decides when Jensen starts calling for him in his sleep, that things have gone much too far.

He coaxes Jensen out of whatever nightmare plagues him and his heart breaks a little for how terrified Jensen looks upon his waking. He’s not conscious for more than a moment before he turns and slips away again. Jared’s mind is made up.

He immediately goes for his bag and fetches his seeing stone from the rich velvet cover where it lays hidden. He makes for the door of the cottage and closes it behind him as he steps into the fresh air outside. It’s a stark contrast in the easy breeze compared to the thick, close air inside that’s heavy with Jensen’s sweat. Jared takes a few deep breaths to collect and centre himself before sitting down cross-legged and holding the foggy-coloured stone up in the sunlight. Jared closes his eyes and thinks of his brother, breathes the words of the calling spell softly to himself, and the stone illuminates in his hands.

Jared?

Jeff’s concern rings clear as day in his mind. It would seem Pellegrino has possibly passed on word of their missed appointment.

“Yes, Jeff, it’s me. I’m alright, I assure you,” Jared says the words aloud only because he’s so tired. The idea of trying to sustain his focused thoughts long enough for their conversation otherwise seems unnecessarily daunting.

Thank the gods. Jeff breathes an audible sigh of relief. There’s talk of a dragon being seen above Stull Forest? When Sir Mark got in touch saying you never turned up, we started to worry. And I’ve been reaching out to you! Where were you that you couldn’t hear me?

“What? I… hold on a moment,” Jared leans and presses his palm to the stone of the cottage, seeking. It appears like any other stone, any other wall, but when prodded it feels alive under his palm, shimmery as the magic that seals it responds to him. Huh. Well, that is interesting. Jensen is full of surprises, it would seem.

“The place I’m staying, it’s enchanted - protected. I didn’t realize. But listen to me, Jeff. I don’t have too much time and I need your help.”

Go on, Jared.

“There was a dragon. But first there was an ambush - I was ambushed. Nearly thirty thugs lay in wait for me on the road to Pellegrino, Jeff. I’m not sure I would’ve made it but for the dragon. It came to my aid and was injured. I think the arrow was laced with something. I’m trying to care for the creature but the fever is burning out of control. He’s hallucinating, delirious. He’s adamant that you not come yourself but I fear for his life. Jeff, please. There must be something I can do.”

There’s a long pause on Jeff’s end but Jared can feel his brother’s contemplation through their connection, can sense vague movement while his brother no doubt flips through various volumes in his study.

When his brother returns, it’s with a list of other plants to add to the brew Jared’s already been giving Jensen, cautioning that while they do grow in Stull Forest they are rarer and will prove more difficult to find. He also offers a spell to use in conjunction, but it bears warnings as well.

Jared, I’m just guessing here. I’ve never treated a dragon, and I’m sure it won’t surprise you the resources on the subject aren’t exactly great in number, Jeff explains seriously. This is the best option I’ve got. The spell will drain you though, you really shouldn’t be alone if you intend to see it through.

Jared can hear the worried parent tone in his brother’s voice, one he’s heard many times before, even though they both know Jared’s going to do whatever he must.

“I’ll be fine, Jeff. Thank you.”

Jared, I’m going to talk to Genevieve and Danneel about what happened. They’re going to want to know. Gen’s been worried sick.

Jared purses his lips a moment. He doesn’t want to get them involved in anything potentially dangerous, but his hands are unavoidably full for the time being.

“Okay, Jeff. Just- make sure they don’t do anything unwise. If someone means to do me harm, who knows what else they’re willing to do.”

Indeed. Take care of yourself, little brother.

“You, too, Jeff.”

Jared relaxes as his brother severs the connection on his end and Jared drops his hands to his lap, carefully cradling the stone in his hands as the light recedes within it. He sits a moment and just breathes, thinks through what it is he needs to find and what it is he needs to do. He stands and lets himself back inside to check on Jensen before he goes in search of the additional ingredients.

Jensen looks terrible. There’s a dreadfully ill pallor to his skin and he still sweats. His breathing is irregular and laboured. For all the fire in his belly and the fever in his blood, Jared hasn’t caught sight of any errant wisps of smoke since last night and while he doesn’t know for sure, his gut tells him it’s not a good sign.

He digs a small side bag out of his backpack and slips the strap over his shoulder, settling the pouch at his hip. He adjusts his tunic, tugging it down to smooth the front, and straightens the navy blue scarf he has tied loosely around his neck. He pauses with his hand on the door, sparing another look back at Jensen where he’s tossing restlessly, looking pained.

“Jensen, I will be back as soon as I can. Just- hold on…”

| Masterpost | Part Two |