The Sword of Stars: Chapter 7, Part 1 (J2 AU NC-17, Fic)

[paleogymnast]

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Chapter 7:

Jensen awoke in a cold sweat, the sound of a woman’s voice calling his name still echoing in his ears. He’d had the dream again. The one where he was a child and running through the halls deep under the monastery, fast approaching the archive and pressing his hand to the door, ready to go in. It was the seventh time he’d had the dream. A perfect number. A significant number. It meant something; he just wasn’t sure what, yet. Every time he walked the halls in his sleep, two points became more and more clear: the dream felt real, more like a memory, and he’d seen that same guard wandering around the monastery grounds.

The guard was real, but Jensen didn’t recall seeing him in memory until after he’d had the first dream. It was possible he’d seen the man and not really noticed him and then imagined the man as the guard in his dream, only… guards weren’t really inconspicuous, and this guard was particularly tall and memorable. Everything about the dream felt real except for the idea of placing his had on the handle. Each night when he reached the door, he hesitated. He imagined the feeling of touching his hand to the door handle, but even in his dream, it was imagination. Nothing else in the dream felt that way, and invariably, he always woke up right before his hand closed around the handle. It was as if he were actually reliving a memory, but the memory stopped there. Whatever had happened next, he certainly hadn’t closed his hand on the handle and opened the door to the Archive.

Only… how could it be a memory? The boy in the dream was a high-ranking noble, whose Mother’s voice was urging him on. Jensen didn’t have a mother. He didn’t remember his mother. But… that voice… it was the same one calling in his ears when he awoke. It was saying his name, and he was certain it was his mother.

Considering the unsettling start to Jensen’s day, he wasn’t particularly surprised when Jared met him (almost out of breath and about two seconds past ‘on time,’ which was a first with Jared’s enviable punctuality) in the Foyer and asked Jensen to accompany him back to the Tavern, or rather the private residence attached to it, for breakfast, rather than taking a trip to Mill Market. Jensen didn’t object. He’d often been curious to see and learn more about Jared’s life with his aunt and their tavern, but it wasn’t his place to ask. So, Jensen agreed excitedly, and after bidding Father Peleggi-who was leaving the monastery grounds as they were entering-a pleasant morning, he settled into stride by Jared’s side, curious and eager to catch a bigger glimpse of Jared at home.

Only, something was definitely bothering Jared, and he was acting strangely-almost vibrating with the energy of whatever was bothering him. Jensen was certain Jared’s odd mood and Jensen’s dream were somehow connected.



“I am… excited to share breakfast with you at your home, Master Lecki,” Jensen said sincerely. Jared had been quiet, so quiet since they’d left the monastery grounds, walking quickly along the now-familiar route to Ferris’s Tavern.

“Just Jared,” he said, stopping suddenly on the cobbles and turning towards Jensen. “Please, no… you don’t need to call me Master, Jensen, not anymore.” He shuddered, pain showing in his eyes.

Jensen wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort Jared. He didn’t understand what was wrong, but he could tell it was bad. Scenarios sprang to mind, his imagination running vivid and wild, but none of the ideas seemed plausible. Jensen couldn’t help himself. It hurt to see Jared in pain. Not caring he was in public, Jensen reached out and touched the edge of Jared’s wide sleeve.

“After today, you’ll probably never want to call me Master ever again. You never should have…” He broke off his ramblings and looked down at Jensen’s hand. Hope and, maybe, longing flashed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked, ever more confused by Jared’s behavior. He gripped Jared’s sleeve a little tighter, as his feet slid closer seemingly of their own accord. He was standing as close to Jared as he dared. Jared was usually so curious, sure, confident even in his relative unfamiliarity with St. Pious. Recently-ever since he asked Jensen if Jensen remembered his parents, actually-Jared had seemed subdued, almost haunted, plagued by a burden that seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each passing day. Yesterday it had seemed worse by far, but there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to talk, what with Jared’s delay and Jensen assisting at Misha’s debut. Jensen thought Jared must have learned something especially troubling while he was delayed. And today… today was a million times worse.

The Church didn’t officially avow such things, but… well Jensen had overheard some of the acolytes talking about struggling with sins or actions that were not clearly good or evil. It had seemed almost blasphemous at the time, but now, looking at Jared, Jensen was beginning to wonder if maybe there really was something to what they were saying, where it wasn’t clear if an action would be blessed by the God and Goddess or invoke their wrath. Could that be what Jared faced? What could he have done, what choice could he face that would trouble him so? “Please,” he begged, “tell me.”

“I-not here, Jensen. Just… I will tell you, I’ll tell you everything, but I can’t tell you here.” Jared’s voice was full of regret, and he brought his other hand up to squeeze Jensen’s hand where it was still clutching Jared’s sleeve.

“All right, sir. Jared,” Jensen agreed.

They walked the rest of the way to the tavern in silence, a knot of dread growing in Jensen’s stomach, swelling larger and larger until it distracted him from the song of mittenswoops, the magnificent cerulean expanse of the clear morning sky, the sound of bells chiming the time at a nearby church, the laughter of young children, and the scent of fresh cut malus fruit baking, until all that was left was Jared by his side and a dark pit of impending doom in his belly.

Jared led him up to the side entrance to the Tavern residence, the same as always. Jensen noticed the familiar scents of fresh-baked bread and fresh fruit, two of Jared’s favorite breakfast foods. For a moment he hoped everything would be all right, the same as usual, normal, safe, predictable-perhaps nothing had changed, and Jared’s odd behavior was all in Jensen’s imagination.

Then Jared squeezed the latch and pulled open the heavy wooden door, and Jensen heard arguing coming from inside.

“I don’t care what trumped up story you sold Jared on, I’m not buying it, Mirabile, I’m just not.”

It was Madam Ferris’s voice, rougher than usual, and very angry… angry and scared. Madam Ferris was always friendly, almost jovial, easy going. She interacted with tavern patrons all day long, and while Jensen had never set foot in the tavern, he’d gathered that they were prone to being somewhat difficult and maudlin at times. And she had to be level headed and… unflappable… that’s what she’d called it, in order to deal with them. She was anything but calm now, and Jensen shuddered to think what would make Madam Ferris afraid.

Jared had stopped in the doorway, so Jensen couldn’t see across the threshold to get a better picture of what was happening.

“You’ve had twenty years, twenty, to contact us and twenty years to get corrupted. I just think it’s a little convenient that you show up now, when we’re this close and almost out of time, and suddenly you wanna be friends again. Have us welcome you back into the fold.”

“I-Sam, it’s not like that. You know-you can imagine what would have happened if I’d tried to contact the ministry. I couldn’t take the risk of leaving him here alone-”

“Oh ‘cause you’ve done such a bang-up job of making sure he wasn’t alone,“ Madam Ferris snorted, interrupting the other speaker-a woman with a deep but beautifully melodic voice, not as rough as Madam Ferris, and… was the other woman calling her Sam She had introduced herself as Samantha all those months ago, but Jensen had never heard anyone call her Sam.

There was a clattering slamming noise, and Jensen was abruptly jerked out of his contemplation.

“As I explained to Jared yesterday, I was doing the best I could with very limited resources. You were in the Ministry then. You know how it was-”

“See, I don’t understand how you know, seeing as you were cut off-” Madam Ferris interrupted again.

“I know how quickly they pulled out-abandoning people, property. They ran. They would have either cut me off or called me home. I told Jared this already, and I really don’t see why I need to go through it with you again. If you are so uncertain of my loyalty, then why don’t you just call up your Director and turn me in,” the other woman finished, sounding frustrated, but sure, defiant.

He had no idea what or who they were talking about, but it added to the overall mood of panic and doubt, and he sidled closer to Jared, subconsciously seeking protection.

“I’m Jared’s superior, that’s why,” Madam Ferris answered.

Jared stepped through the door, letting Jensen follow in his wake and giving Jensen his first view of the goings on inside as the door slipped closed behind them. Madam Ferris was leaning back against the counter that ran along the wall on the left of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. Her body language was different than he’d ever seen it-foreign somehow-and Jensen shuddered at the unfamiliarity. She was glaring at someone he couldn’t see, and the window behind her had the drapery lowered across it-another anomaly. The Tavern Residence’s kitchen was usually a blissfully bright and sunny spot, but instead it was unexpectedly dim, gloomy even, lit only by two godlamps. Jared could also see that the door that led from the kitchen into the hallway that connected the residence to the tavern was closed. It surprised him so much he almost tripped-he’d never seen it closed before.

Jared held his hand out, steadying Jensen and keeping him tucked in behind him, as if protecting him.

“And I can’t exactly go to the Deputy Director with you after the orders he gave Jensen yesterday. But then again, you know that, whether I like it or not, because Jared up and told you,” Madam Ferris growled.

“He really didn’t have much of a choice. He believed me,” the other woman replied. “We really should not be having this conversation here.”

Madam Ferris gave a rueful chuckle. “Don’t I know it, but like you keep pointing out, my options are rather limited. If I want to have this someplace more secure I either have to trust that your secure comm is actually secure, or I have to let you in, and I’m not ready to do that yet.”

Jared chose that moment to clear his throat, making Madam Ferris jump when she turned and saw the two of them standing just inside the doorway.

“Oh, Jensen,” she said, her voice much warmer, but still sad. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Jensen?” the other woman’s said in surprise.

Jensen wasn’t sure why, but she seemed to have a strange amount of recognition in her voice as if she knew him; he couldn’t place her voice though, and without being able to see her…

“Jared, Jensen, you can come in. Please,” Madam Ferris requested.

Jared steppe to the side so he wasn’t blocking Jensen’s way, and gently reached out to wrap his arms around Jensen’s shoulders, pulling Jensen’s smaller frame close to him and steering Jensen into the kitchen.

Jensen gasped when he saw the other woman. She was looking at him. Jensen nearly tripped slipping into a bow.

Beside him Jared hesitated, but then seemed to remember himself and bowed as well.

She was a noble woman, wearing an elegant green silk dress covered in embroidery and gathered at the waist with an aqua and teal braded rope. She was wearing lighter green tights underneath layered with an open sapphire blue robe. He knew nobles frequented Ferris’s Tavern, but he’d never seen a noble person in their residence. Actually, he’d seldom seen anyone but Jared and Madam Ferris there unless it was the occasional vendor making a delivery. Besides, he’d never heard a noble woman yell or use that sort of language or… slouch… the way this woman was standing or be on such familiar terms with a non-noble. But it was more than that. He knew this woman. She was the very same noble woman who had wished him a good day as he carried the scrolls to the Central Plaza on the morning of the Piety Festival, just minutes before he’d met Jared. What was she doing here? Why did she sound like she knew his name?

Before Jensen could burst out with any of the myriad questions tumbling around his mind, Jared murmured softly in his ear. “I’ll explain them later. They need to sort out some differences before I do.”

“Okay,” Jensen agreed, blinking and swallowing hard. No, the two women were still there, still standing strangely and staring at him.

“I know I promised you breakfast, but there’s something I need you to see, and I think it might be better to do this before we eat,” Jared explained. His voice shook a little as his hands squeezed tighter against Jensen’s shoulders.

“Jared,” Madam Ferris began warningly.

Jensen watched glanced at Jared in time to see him glare at Madam Ferris.

“Sam, don’t,” the noble woman said. “Don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

Madam Ferris didn’t say anything else, and Jared steered Jensen between the noble woman and Madam Ferris and over to the now-closed door to the hallway.

Jensen tried to bow while moving, but the noble woman wasn’t really paying attention any more, certainly wasn’t making eye contact, so he supposed it wasn’t strictly necessary. After all, why else would Jared be leaving without also showing his respect?

Jared let go of him long enough to open it and then gently prodded Jensen out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. He led Jensen down the hall towards the Tavern.

Jensen wasn’t particularly surprised. Confused, yes, but surprised, no. Jared had taken him as far as he could possibly go considering he was a Burgundy-Jensen had stood just outside the doorway to the tavern itself, and had seen all the adjoining areas. He’d also seen the residence in its entirety, including the upstairs, where Jared’s room was and where he kept some of the stores for baked goods. Jensen was shocked though when Jared led him by the stairwell and paused in front of a strange alcove which held the “taps,” as Jared had called them-which were something to do with the beers and ales that were so popular.

“What did you need for me to see?” Jensen asked, when Jared had hovered for a full minute without speaking.

“I have to show you something important. Something about who you are.” He pressed the lever and hit the catch and watched Jensen’s expression as a new world opened up beneath him.

Jensen gasped in surprise. “Wh-what?” he asked, sudden panic rising inside him. He’d heard stories of things like this. Hidden levers. Crazy machines-it sounded like science. But he couldn’t think that of Jared. He couldn’t.

“I promise I will explain everything, I am so, so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I-I hope you will understand, but there are some people I need you to meet,” Jared said with a melancholy smile. “Come with me.” He reached out and took Jensen’s hand.

Against his own better judgment, Jensen accepted, squeezing his fingers into Jared’s hand, and allowing himself to be led down a spiral staircase made of something he’d never seen before. Alarms were going off in his head, flashing danger like the lights in the dream when he was being chased through the tunnel near the archive. Yet, a voice in the back of his mind seemed to be begging him to trust… follow, see. So he did.

At the bottom of the stairs, several people were gathered in a large open room. He was vaguely aware of Jared rambling on about Chris the Team Leader, Danni the doctor, Eliza in security, and Chad in communications, but he was too distracted by his surroundings to pay it much heed. There were machines-things with little screens and strange contraptions arranged in rows emerging from desks. There was an even stranger wall made of some material he had never seen before, and then there was the place they were gathered around unusual, improper seating before a-a-screen of some sort. With moving pictures.

There was no denying it. He could see what they were. How Master Lecki-Jared-his friend could be something so-despicable-tainted-unholy-unnatural-depraved-he didn’t know. He had trusted him. Trusted him. Given in little by little to the pull between them, thinking maybe it wasn’t evil. Maybe it wouldn’t invoke the wrath of the God and Goddess if he loved, but it was all a lie. All a ruse to take his corrupted soul and tarnish it further. The stench of their impurity overwhelmed him.

“You see-Jensen, you’re one of us. You’re from the Scientist Union. Your parents were Scientists, because they were from our country and they actually studied science. They died trying to save our world-you see there’s aliens-a threat coming from outside the galaxy and-that’s a big group of stars and their planets,” Jared rambled.

“You’re S-scientists!” Jensen exclaimed. He brought his fingers to his mouth in shock. He tried to blow out the evil taint. Seven. Counting to seven. Seven exhales out. He felt light headed, and then he stepped back-he was falling, falling. His back hit one of the strange seats as he crashed to the floor.

Jared reached out a hand for him. His first instinct was to take it, to seek comfort, but then he remembered-

“Don’t touch me!” he shouted. “You’re filthy. Filthy. Depraved all of you. May the God and Goddess smite you down and have mercy on me for not seeing,” he ranted.

“Jensen, Jensen, no. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but you didn’t remember. You didn’t remember who you are.”

Jensen’s stomach rolled; he was pretty sure he was going to be sick right there. There would be no coming back from this. He honestly hadn’t known. Never suspected. But he knew what happened to people who befriended Scientists. The Council ordered them hung in the Central Plaza before an audience often after torturing or beating them. Maybe, maybe if he confessed. If he went to Brother Benedict-no not him-or Father Peleggi… if he got up and left right now. If he could figure out how to get out of here and confess, prostrate himself, throw himself upon the mercy of their Most Holy. Maybe there would be something left of his existence to salvage. Then he thought of Jared’s words and Brother Benedict’s comments to Father Peleggi and his own suspicions about who-what-his parents were. “Oh God and Goddess no,” he moaned.

One of them was waving something at him. Some kind of wand. A wand and the other had a square. What were they doing? What did Scientists do to people? He was afraid of them, but he really didn’t know.

“Jared, I know you wanted to put this off, but I don’t see how we’re going to get anywhere now,” a man, blonde-Chad-whined.

“I’m getting an anomalous reading,” someone-Chris-exclaimed.

Jared dropped down to the floor, moving closer to Jensen. Jensen struggled to squirm away, even though he was half tangled in his robes and had his back to the strange chair thing. Jared seemed to be trying to avoid the way Jensen was struggling beside him, but Jensen didn’t care. He could feel himself twitching, and knew he probably looked horrified and betrayed. He wanted to run away.

Strangely, when he snuck a look at Jared, he thought Jared looked very much the same. That and sick, disgusted. But with whom, Jensen didn’t know.

“What kind of reading?” Jared asked, his tone wary.

“Well, it looks like a bioelectric chip, only, there’s no record of Jensen Ackles having one,” Chris explained, looking up from the box-like thing he was holding. It glowed.

“But wait,” Jared said, “it’s not like Jensen could have one if he wasn’t a Scientist, right? It’s not suggesting it’s not him, not…” he gulped, “not the Lost Son?”

Lost Son? Jensen wondered.

“No, no way,” Chris agreed shaking his head. “It’s definitely our tech, and the DNA is definitely a match for the Lost Son, but…” He looked down at Jensen. “It seems to be coming from your arm?” It was a question, but Chris reached out.

Jensen flinched, pulling away again. Jared’s proximity was one thing, but this man; this man he didn’t know. And his eyes didn’t hold the same enthralling, transfixing hope Jared’s always had (and still did), so he wasn’t willing to be gentle. “Don’t touch me you… you heathen?” his eyes were wide and wild. He didn’t know why he felt so uncertain now.

Jared looked sicker still, like he might actually feel guilty, might actually care about the torment Jensen was enduring. Jared even looked afraid, betrayed.

“Wait, let me see your arm,” Chris insisted, grabbed Jensen’s right arm, pulling it closer to the soft, blue light emanating from his box-thing. “Is that, is that a scar?” he asked.

Jensen looked down. He didn’t know what-Oh!

As Chris spoke, he pressed his thumb to a jagged white line that ran horizontally across Jensen’s right wrist.

Jensen flinched, and then went frighteningly, shockingly still as the world dissolved around him.



A sharp flash of pain washed over Jensen, white light blinding his eyes, every nerve ending screaming as if on fire, and then he was there, in that place that haunted the edges of his dreams, always wanting to be seen, remembered, acknowledged, known but never quite materializing. He saw himself, his four-and-a-half-year old self, sitting cross-legged on a tufted, brown cushion, rimmed with thick piping and long tassels hanging from all four corners… He was wearing a soft-looking-blue-short-sleeved shirt and loose pants in a deeper blue made out of a sturdier fabric. The floor beneath the cushion was a warm, terracotta tile a shade or two lighter than the frescoed walls. There were godlamps jutting out of smooth, curved silvery fixtures, adorned with scalloped, copper-colored glass shades. The cushion on which he sat was placed in front of a tall bed with a dark broodwood frame and crisp white sheets with eyelet trim topped by a puffy, plumiert down duvet that looked like a fluffy cloud. Jensen was facing a matching broodwood vanity complete with a mirror.

He recognized the room, and yet didn’t. Jensen could not recall such a place, or ever wearing such clothes-he had no memories of being so young. And yet, he had no doubt that he was seeing his younger self, watching, remembering, feeling events that had truly happened. He was both an observer and living the scene. Both the small child, seeing through the child’s eyes, and outside himself looking on. As the realization dawned on him, his conscious awareness seemed to float into his four-and-a-half-year-old self, just as he turned his small head and watched a beautiful woman approach.

She was young, maybe in her early thirties, with honey-colored hair swept back in a twist that was pinned with two long, black lacquered sticks. She wore flowing, green, silk pants under a long, shiny, close-fitting blue tunic that was slit up the sides, and adorned with gems and beads of every color in simple-but-elegant patterns long the bottom hem and slits and down the front center of the tunic. Jensen’s twenty-five-year-old self realized he had only seen clothes like that a few times when he’d seen glimpses of the honored nobles who assisted the Council or even rarer still, when he’d encountered a high-ranking noble person on the street. While his older self wanted to widen his eyes in shock, his younger self just smiled, pure love and adoration filling his heart.

“Three things, Jensen; I want you to remember three things, and no matter what happens, you can’t ever forget,” the woman said as she sat down at Jensen’s right side.

“I’ll remember, mommy, don’ worry, I won’t forget.”

“I know you won’t, baby.” She smiled, her eyes looking a little sad, only four-year-old Jensen hadn’t known what the expression meant. “One, put your hand on the door handle of the Forbidden Chamber, it will open for you and when you put your palm on the computer terminal inside, it will tell you what you need to know.” She paused, and Jensen had blinked up at her, trusting, but not quite knowing how he would remember something he wasn’t sure he understood. But this was Mommy, so it would be alright.

“Two, hard and digital copies of my diary are in the base of the Skyfarer’s monument at Freedom Beach Spaceport; if you press your palm to the plaque it will open, for you and only for you, and tell you what you need to know.”

“What about you mommy, won’t it let you in?” He asked in his tiny four-year-old’s voice, incredulous that there could be something of his mother’s that she could not access.

“No, baby, only you,” she murmured sliding closer to Jensen and wrapping her arm around his shoulders, her hand warm and soothing against his bare skin exposed by the short sleeves of his soft, blue shirt.

“OK,” he sighed, breath coming out in a little upward puff that rustled his bangs on his forehead. “You said there were three things I had to remember?” he asked. “That was,” he paused, scrunching up his forehead and counting, “one, two, only two,” he looked up, meeting his mother’s eyes.

She leaned down and pressed a fluttering kiss to his forehead.

“What’s three?” he asked.

“Oh you are so smart my beautiful Jensen, so smart, and I love you so much!” She murmured the words against his temple, hand running up into his hair and squeezing him to her as she rocked.

“I love you too,” he cooed, at the time not recognizing the hitch of sadness in her voice for what it was.

“The third thing...” her voice wavered and trailed off.

He looked up, noticing that her eyes were wet and wondering why.

“The third thing,” she started again, eyes staring off into the distance, “is the code is in you.”

“In me?” Jensen asked after a moment not understanding.

“Yes baby, in you, in your DNA. My journal tells how. Just remember, it’s in you.” Her voice trailed off again, and she kissed the top of his head, little droplets of water-tears, he now knew-falling into his hair, plop, plop, plop.

“How will I remember, mommy? I’m scared I’ll forget,” Jensen whispered, trying to go over and over what she’d told him, recording it like she’d taught him, memorizing, and storing away... only he wasn’t sure he understood, and that made it harder, and this seemed so important. He wanted to make mommy proud, and it felt like it would be scary if he forgot.

He felt her pull away a little, her arm not leaving him, but she was stretching as if she was reaching for something with her right hand. He could hear a clink and some rustling fabric, but he didn’t look over; instead, he leaned back against his mother more firmly, pressing against her, because she could protect him from the fear, the scary thing he felt welling up within him.

“Don’t be afraid, Jensen; this will help you remember if you ever start to forget.” Her voice sounded weird to his young ears; his adult self recognized it was hollow, distant, with a false, put-on strength-the tone of someone forced to cause pain to someone they love in order to save them.

He looked up, and met her wet smile, not really noticing her hand moving. He smiled back before he felt the searing, stabbing pain in his right wrist.

He cried out.

“I’m sorry baby,” she said over and over again, dropping the thing that was in her hand with a metallic clunk, and hugging him tight, squeezing with both arms, pressing his head to her chest as she scooped him onto her lap. “I’m sorry baby, but it’s the only way...”

Jensen looked down at his right arm, which burned like the bone was on fire. He could see the blood-bright red and fresh and glistening-and behind it a rapidly-closing wound that was sealing itself into a raised rippled scar on the back of his wrist.



Jensen came to, groggy and disoriented. He was lying on a bed somewhere-hospital, smells like a hospital-only that was strange and wrong, because no, Zyreta didn’t really have hospitals. They had healers and doctors, but their quarters often smelled a bit like barns unless they were the ones the Council had on hand for select individuals deemed worthy of magic. Those smelled odd, but not like this. But yet he knew. How did he know? Who was he? Jensen was baffled, because the more aware he became the more he realized that he wasn’t all one person, and he wasn’t the same person he’d been when he’d fallen-lost consciousness-it was like he was two people. Two very different people, suddenly joined after a long separation, and then there was more other-memories, data, stray odds and ends of knowledge floating around in his mind.

“It was tied to use of a standard medical scanner. It was completely inactive, no not inactive, dormant, because it was doing something, recording information and storing it in with what was already there, but it was doing it without interacting with Jensen in any way. When he stepped in the room and Chris and I approached him with the scanners, it activated, after that, it was just a matter of pressing on it to activate.” It was a woman’s voice, his memory suggested her name was Danni, and she was a doctor, but he also knew he really didn’t know her.

“I don’t get it, how would, no why would Donna Ackles have triggered the chip to a scanner?” That was Chad.

“Well it makes sense,” someone said sarcastically. He thought it was Eliza.

Jensen had the unsettling realization that one, they were talking about his mother; two, his mother was dead; and three, he could now recall every word Jared had said earlier even though at the time, he’d been too distracted and overwhelmed to let it register. It was like he could stop and rewind the memory in his head. Could it be this chip they were talking about?

No, that’s just you. It was a whisper in the back of his mind that sounded an awful lot like his mother-Donna’s-voice. Eidetic memory. Perfect recall.

Then why couldn’t I remember anything before? How could I forget you? he pleaded.

“Perfect sense,” Danni said. “Vissandra said she was planning to do-whatever she did-to all her family, including all the kids? Well, if any of them had made it back to a Scientist facility, the first order of business would have been a medical scan and an examination.”

“So in other words, if we’d rescued Jensen 20 years ago, he would have just remembered then, and whatever’s happening would…” That was Jared, his voice sounded sad, scared, overwhelmed.

I’ll show you. It’s all here, whispered his mother’s voice. It was the same voice from the dream, the dream of running in the tunnels.

Oh! Understanding came to him in flashes-his mother training him, helping him shape his mind, his memories, compartmentalizing. After she’d given him the chip, something… something had happened. There was an event-he couldn’t see it yet-but something had triggered his mind to-separate. Before he was Jensen Ackles, son of Donna an Alan, Scientist, and Zyretan Noble-a little kid who adored his parents and wanted to do everything he could to help out. After he was just Jensen-a lost boy, child of suspected criminals, abandoned, raised, and trained by the Church. Jensen knew nothing of his old life… But he was still there in the back of his own mind, the other side of himself, observing, cataloguing, remembering everything, and developing and growing as it did so. There were also… memories, somehow his mother had put some of her memories into the chip along with a bunch of data Jensen needed to know. It was a jumble, all confused and mixed up right now, but already the different pieces were starting to knit themselves back together. It would take time, but he would be all right.

“We need-we need to wake him, see what happened.”

Oh, he knew that voice. The Noble woman, he knew her… Vi-Vissandra… she was mommy’s friend!

“Now wait just a minute, I may have cleared you to be down here, but you’re not going to do anything that’s going to endanger Jensen. If Danni says waking him is okay, then we wake him, otherwise you’d better hope he’s not injured. If anything happens to that poor dear sweet boy-” Sam sounded furious, and very protective.

Jensen hadn’t known she felt that way about him.

“Sam, babe, back off,” Eliza murmured.

The familiarity of her address… his Scientist mind knew that meant they were-intimate somehow. He’d thought Sam was a widow and in mourning… cover story, his mind supplied.

“Let-let me run another scan. I’ve been getting all kinds of abnormal brain activity, but the last readings made no sense,” Danni said with a gulp.

He could feel them moving closer to him.

“Just don’t hurt him,” Jared pleaded. “It’s bad enough that he may never forgive us…”

Part of him still felt betrayed by Jared, but another part-the part that was Jensen Ackles, the parts that were integrating, blending together-they understood, and actually felt a little sorry for Jared to have had to keep something like that from Jensen for so long. He wondered what had prompted the change in behavior. Something had been eating at Jared for weeks.

The hum and beeping of the wand-scanner-came closer.

Time to stop hiding, baby, his mother’s voice urged.

He sat up, smoothly, fluidly, he went from not quite conscious, to staring, his eyes wide-open, at the shocked faces of the seven people gathered around his bed. “I remember, I remember everything.”

Danni jumped, but stepped closer with her scanner.

“And I can explain,” he gulped. This felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed-”Jared?”

Jared stumbled, dazed, and crossed the two steps that had separated him from Jensen’s bedside. His hands hovered protectively like he wanted to touch, to reach out and hold Jensen, but couldn’t allow himself to.

Jensen relieved him of that burden and reached out, grasping Jared’s hands in both of his. “I am sorry. I realize now you had no choice. I forgive you… and… I hope we can be… friends be… more.”

Jared squeezed his hand back, his eyes were full of tears. “Thank you, I’m sorry, thank you.”

Jensen gazed into Jared’s eyes, a little bit lost… there was still a voice telling him this was wrong, this was wrong, but something-oh, Eliza’s comment to Sam and some of his mother’s memories-were telling him it was okay. Okay to feel this way, this drawn to someone.

Someone cleared their throat.

Jensen reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Jared, and together they turned to look at the rest of the room.

“So, Jensen, you wanna explain what happened?” Eliza asked. “‘Cause we’re all counting on you to know how to save the world.”



Jensen explained. He explained everything he could remember, what was happening with his memories, what his mother’s memories were telling him.

Jared explained the threat they faced-what had happened three hundred years ago to break their two countries apart, what had happened to the religion, what had happened to the Zyretans and the Scientists, why his parents were in St. Pious when they were, what was going to happen in a little over a month if they didn’t stop it. “I-I’m so glad you remembered, Jensen. Morgan-my, my Deputy Director-boss, of the Intelligence Ministry-he wanted me to… us… Danni to experiment on you if you couldn’t remember soon.”

Danni was shocked after that, and then Vissandra and Jared both explained why they knew Jensen had to be able to actually remember.

He told them about his memory-what his mother had told him-where they needed to look and what they would find there.

Vissandra wasn’t surprised-nor was Jared-they both knew Vissandra had hidden something for Donna, his mom, at the Skyfarer’s monument. But apparently there was a problem with traveling there and security. “I can help with travel, but we’ll need a good, believable cover story. I don’t know if you’ve realized Jensen, but the Council, especially Brother Benedict, they watch you very closely. We do anything that arouses their suspicion, and they could kill you or us, ruin any chance we have of retrieving the information you mother left. There’s also the small matter of the spaceport having been bombed out… it’s now under Zyretan control.” Vissandra went on to tell him about her memories of his childhood, what had happened when his mother had taken, how she’d stayed to try to watch over him…

Her stories unlocked another piece of the puzzle in Jensen’s mind. Everything seemed to click as it tumbled into place. He knew what his dream meant! He gasped at the realization and spent a very long time explaining his dream and how he now remembered that the night his parents had been taken, while he still remembered everything, he had slipped out while the guards were sleeping and run the path to the Archive. Tried to get in. His hand had been about to close on the door handle when a guard-a guard who was still around and working for Brother Benedict had grabbed him and hauled him away. He’d never had another chance.

That was when Vissandra told them more horrible news about Benedict. Some of it Jared seemed to know or suspect-Chris and Eliza too, Jensen observed, but the rest of them were as shocked as he was. It seemed not only had the Zyretan Church manipulated its teachings to control the population, convince them they had to obey or face the repeated destruction of their world and abandonment by the God and Goddess, but the Church had also, through the Council, sanctioned the use of technology and the limited pursuit of scientific research, because it was necessary, and because they feared the Scientists. Over the years the research organization-at least those who weren’t slaves or prisoners-had grown, forming a secret society within Zyreta. “You’ve heard of the Zyretan Secret Police,” Vissandra asked.

Several heads, including Jared’s nodded.

“Well they call themselves the Scienti. And Brother Benedict? He’s their head.”

By the time all the information they had had been shared and dissected, it was late. So late that Jensen was going to be late returning to the monastery. He felt a surge of panic rising in him, especially since he didn’t want to go back there not now. He wanted to go fetch his woolpup from his chamber and come here and stay-hide-forever. As disgusted as part of his mind still was with the idea of Scientists, with the knowledge Jared was one, he was more disgusted with the perversion he now knew the Church to be. He believed… he couldn’t imagine not believing in the God and Goddess shining down on him, even if now his memories told him they were a binary star system called the Dea Prima and Deus Secundus. But he’d never quite accepted that any powerful deity could be so petty, hateful, or cruel, and now that he knew-and knew because memories of his mother’s were reinforcing that knowledge emphatically, that hatred was created and fostered by humans as a weapon, he didn’t feel comfortable in the Church’s presence.

“We’ve got to get you back,” Jared murmured. They were almost alone together, tucked in the corner of one of the lab-laboratories, while the others were involved in an animated discussion about who got to comm Morgan-the Deputy Director person-and what they would say.

“I don’t want to leave,” he admitted.

“We’ll think of something. You won’t have to stay away long, and hey,’ Jared brushed his thumb over Jensen’s cheekbone, “I’ll see you in the morning; we have an appointment after all.”

“I know, it’s just… I don’t like being away from you for that long,” Jensen said sheepishly.

“I know what you mean,” Jared replied, his voice soft.

There was a moment of awkward hesitation and Jensen leaned in closer, closer, until finally his lips brushed Jared’s. It was hesitant, just a press of lips, but he felt that want spark inside him, and the look in Jared’s eyes told him the feeling was mutual.

“You know… what I am, what you are-liking people of the same sex. We have a word for that, gay, and it’s-it’s not a crime. It’s not an abomination. It’s pretty, pretty normal, actually,” Jared whispered.

“Really?” Jensen asked, in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Jared nodded, squeezing Jensen’s shoulder. “I-I would never pressure you, but I-I like you.”

“I think I do too,” Jensen admitted.

They didn’t get to discuss it any more, because at that moment, Chris called them back to the group. They had a plan.

Continue to Chapter 7, Part 2

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