Falling Feels Like Flying (in a Vee): Two

[qblackheart]

 



Jared Padalecki held up a hand to stem the flow of words from Coach Morgan's mouth, his gaze suddenly focused on the man standing on the ice next to his son.

"Wait," he said, "Coach Ackles?"

It couldn't be, Jared thought to himself, trying to calm the frantic drumbeat of his heart. The man was turned away from him but that profile was unmistakable. Could it be? He pressed a hand to his sternum, as if to hold his heart within his ribcage, even though his body's reaction cemented what his mind refused to believe.

Jensen Ackles.

He placed a placating hand on his son's head, before walking out onto the ice, the soles of his shoes slipping a bit. He was out of practice - it had been a really long time since he had last stepped foot on the ice - but he maintained his balance effortlessly, his feet and his heart skittering to a standstill though, when a young boy skated to a halt in front of them.

"Daddy?" The boy asked, looking up at Jensen in concern. Jared blew out the breath he had been holding and for a moment, it was almost as if he had been transported back in time to when he and Jensen had been around ten or eleven, for the boy - Jensen's son - was the spitting image of his father at that age. Identical in exactly the same way Ryan and Jared were: like father, like son.

Fate must be cackling with laughter somewhere, the fickle bitch.

Of its own volition, Jared's hand reached out and touched Jensen, the warmth of his body seeping into Jared's cold, bare fingers, warming him from the outside in, and the inside out, in the way only Jensen ever could.

Then Jensen turned to face him and he stopped breathing. His face was the same, just a little older, more rough around the edges. Deeper crinkles around those green eyes he would know anywhere, scruffy beard adorning that chiseled, tightly clenched jaw. Still heart-stoppingly handsome.

"Hello, Jay."

Sarcasm dripped from the moniker, a nickname Jensen had coined when they were kids and only he had ever been allowed to use. His voice was cold though, and his expression icy. It was almost eerily identical to the way he had looked when they had last seen each other, just before Jensen had walked right out the door of their apartment and out of Jared's life for good. For the longest time, it was the only expression of Jensen's that Jared could remember. Years had passed since then though, and now the memories, when he chose to dwell on them, which was more often than not, were better, sweeter, more reminiscent of happier times.

Jared took Jensen's aloofness for what it was: a defense mechanism. Jensen was all about self-preservation and lashing out first if there was the slightest possibility that he could be hurt, and it killed Jared to know that he still held the power to hurt Jensen in his hand.

"Hey, Jen." Jensen blinked at that, momentarily nonplussed. Jared tried for a smile, but it felt forced and uncertain, even to him.

And now what? Jared persevered; after all, one of them had to - a quick glance reminded him that they were both being closely watched by their sons, not to mention almost everyone else out on the ice. "I hear you're the replacement coach for the Ducks," Jared ventured lamely, his voice hesitant.

"Just until Coach Collins gets back on his feet," Jensen brusquely replied.

"Er... right. Umm... it appears that Ryan..." Jared grabbed his son by the jersey and yanked him across his body like a shield. Yeah, he was a grown man hiding behind an eleven year old, what of it? "This is Ryan," Jared introduced. "My son." He poked Ryan in the ribs, and the kid yelped.

"Er... Hi, Coach Ackles," Ryan reached his hand out to Jensen after tossing Jared an aggrieved look over his shoulder. Jensen studied Ryan's hand for a moment before reaching out to shake it and Jared wondered if he would extend him the same courtesy.

Jensen smiled hesitantly at Ryan but then frowned mightily at Jared.

Maybe not.

"So," Ryan looked hopefully up at Jensen, dimpled grin flashing to maximum effect, "can I play with the Ducks, Coach?"

Jensen looked stricken, mouth open but no words coming out, his eyes glued to Ryan's face.

"Dad!" Jensen jumped as his son less than subtly elbowed him in the gut.

"Oof!" he grunted, his pent up breath gusting out of him. "What?"

"Dude's one of their best players!" he exclaimed as Jared watched him intently, his green eyes lighting up with an all-too-familiar flourish. "We could use him on our team! Although he's gonna need a really big jersey to get his entire name to fit on it." The boy snickered at Ryan who rolled his eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I don't hear that all the time."

"How do you pronounce that anyway?" Jensen Jr. asked with a smirk. "Padalicky?"

Ryan snorted in amusement. "Funny, Frackles."

"All right, enough," Jensen muttered, putting a stop to the good-natured ribbing, before darting a glance at Jared. "At least they’re not as bad as we were when we first met."

Jared chuckled, hope soaring in his chest. "Dude, we were babies when we first met. We hadn't quite mastered the ability to speak yet."

“Didn't need words," Jensen groused, and Jared could have mouthed his next words right along with him, they'd had this dispute so many times since the day their mothers had shared the tale of their first meeting. "You hit me with your rattle! Scared me for life,” he mumbled, fingering the miniscule mark over his right eye.

“You totally deserved it for stealing my binkie,” Jared quipped, still completely remorseless.

One corner of Jensen's mouth tipped up in the beginnings of a smile, but then he seemed to suddenly remember that he didn't smile at Jared anymore and it vanished. Hope died a swift and painful death as Jensen took a deep breath and licked his lips before worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Jared gulped and looked away, focusing instead on mini-Jensen in front of him.

The boy beamed up at him, and Jared kind of wanted to squish him close. "You and dad knew each other when you were kids?"

Jared gave Jensen a sideways glance before responding. "Yeah. We grew up together." Jared held out his hand to the little boy who, in many ways, seemed more familiar to him than his own son. "I'm Jared."

Jensen's son's face lit up like a beacon as his little hand was engulfed in Jared's. "Hey!" he declared with barely contained enthusiasm. "I'm a Jared, too!" And Jared - Padalecki - thought he would need the emergency defibrillator by the time practice was over, with his heart beating so erratically and basically stopping on a dime every time an Ackles appeared or said something. "Umm… well, Tyler Jared Ackles! This is so cool! Dad! How come we have the same name? Did you name me after him?" Tyler excitedly yanked on Jensen's jacket as Jared waited with baited breath.

"Yeah," Jensen finally said, his jaw clenching, as he pinned Jared with a hard stare. "Because I keep my promises."

Meaning that Jared didn't. Jared supposed he deserved that, but not in this instance. When Jared spoke to his son, his voice was quiet, and his eyes remained locked with Jensen's. "Ryan, tell your new coach your full name."

"Ryan Jensen Padalecki."

"Whoa!" Tyler exclaimed in the background, excitedly thumping Ryan on the bicep. "Dude, Jensen's my dad's name!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Ryan groused, rubbing his arm as both boys studied their fathers.

Jared decided to ignore his kid's colorful language just this once. All he could focus on right now was the man standing in front of him, and Jared could actually see the breath stutter in Jensen's chest, and every emotion that flitted across Jensen's beautiful, expressive face resonated within him: confusion, anger, pain, abandonment... and underneath it all, carefully hidden away from prying eyes, there was love. It was fleeting, and Jared didn't think anyone else in the world would have recognized it, but it was there. Second chances didn't come along every day; Jared could build on that tiny spark.

It was a start.



"So you and Coach Ackles, huh?" Ryan asked as the door of their condo swung shut behind them. Jared started in surprise; sometimes he wondered where his kid had picked up that no-nonsense manner of his.

"Yeah," Jared answered, and then shook his head as panic flooded through his brain. "Wait - what do you mean?"
"You guys grew up together."

"Oh," Jared's breath whooshed out of his lungs in relief. "Yeah. Our parents were next door neighbors when we lived in Kingston."

"He must've been a pretty good friend if you named me after him."

"He... was." And God, it still hurt so much to admit to that and use the past tense.

"Yet you've never mentioned him before," Ryan looked up at him, openly curious. "How come? What happened between you two?"

Jared sighed and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of takeout menus from the drawer and sitting down at the table in an attempt to stall for time. "What do you want tonight?"

"Chinese," Ryan said, unsurprisingly. "And don't avoid the question, dad."

Jared glared at him but only got a perfectly arched eyebrow in response. "We had a... misunderstanding."

"When?"

"Back when we played in the OHL."

"When you were with the Kingston Frontenacs?"

"Yeah." Jared could almost see the wheels turning in his son's head. "Actually, it was just after the move to Vancouver."

"He's JR Ackles!"

"Give the kid a prize."

"Dad!" Ryan's enthusiasm kicked up a few notches and he went from cross-examining attorney to excited kid in the blink of an eye. "You guys were tight! JT Padalecki and JR Ackles! Left and Right Wing! I watched some of those old tapes - you were both awesome."

"We were," Jared agreed softly. And then he had gone and ruined it for the both of them. Playing hockey had been abysmal without Jensen at his side.

"So what happened? You got drafted to the NHL and he didn't? Is that why he's sore?"

"No. We both got drafted to the Canucks." Jared huffed out a breath. Reliving that time was his life was not conducive to his peace of mind. "You know how guys can get. We had a falling out and one thing about Jensen is that if he's been wronged by someone - that's it."

"So," Ryan considered him carefully and Jesus, the kid had a future in law for sure; Jared was practically squirming under his scrutiny. "You messed up and he never gave you a chance to make it up to him."

"That's it in a nutshell," Jared muttered, pretending to peruse the menu in his hand that he practically knew by heart. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Did he end up playing with the Canucks at all?" Ryan pressed, and Jared sighed.

"They really didn't want one without the other." He shrugged. "He quit, I went to the Leafs in a multi-player deal soon after, and they never picked me up, sent me down to the Toronto Marlies instead, and I stayed for a year before quitting myself. My heart wasn't in it anymore. Jensen ended up moving to the States for university. Texas, I found out later."

"And you went to Queen's back in Kingston, where you met mom," Ryan filled in the blanks, knowing this part of the story pretty well. "Boy, he must've been real mad at you to quit hockey altogether."

Jared almost felt like crying, but he pulled himself together. "So mad that he cut me out of his life for the past thirteen years."

"Whoa." Ryan looked almost comically shocked.

"Yeah." So much regret infused that one word that Jared felt the physical weight of it on his chest. He drew in a deep breath and picked up the phone to call for takeout. "End of story."

Ryan studied him quietly as he waited for the restaurant to pick up. "Pretty sure a new chapter just started, dad."



Ryan wheezed with laughter as he and Tyler watched another puck ping off of Chad Jr.'s padded gut as he stood, arms securely duct-taped to each of the goal posts.
"We should totally print out a bunch of tickets and sell 'em," Tyler snorted, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "people would pay good money for this kind of entertainment."

"And just think," Ryan snickered, "we get to watch for free!"

"Keep 'em coming, guys!" Chad Jr. hollered from the net. "I am the Great and Powerful Chaaaad!" He growled at Cat who had just taken her shot, the puck glancing off the goalie's helmet. He roared. "I. Am. Fearless."

"Dude! You're awesome!" Christina yelled back, her shot getting him in the shin guard.

The twins skated towards them and Ryan shrunk back a little, suddenly shy - not that he would ever admit that out loud… but jeez, Cat Harris was pretty.

Tyler eyed him knowingly. "It better not be X, dude."

"No!" Ryan hastened to reassure him. "It's Cat!" At Tyler's chuckle, he promptly smacked himself in the face. He'd been had. He whacked Tyler upside the head. "Shut up!"

"Hey guys," Cat called out with a friendly smile as she skated to a stop next to him. His breath caught in his chest, but he didn't feel like too much of a dork because Tyler was actually blushing. Heh. Sucks to be him.

"So Ty," Christina started, smirking at him, "what's the deal with Coach Ackles and Ryan's dad?"

"I dunno," Tyler shrugged, frowning. "I couldn't get anything outta my dad. What about you, Ryan?"

Ryan told them what his dad had told him and Tyler's eyes grew big and round the more he said. "Tyler?"

His new friend shot a hurt glare at his father, and bit his lip. "He never told me he was drafted to the Canucks! That's amazing! Why would he keep something like that from me?" He scuffed the edge of his blade against the ice, chipping the surface. "He always said that he hated hockey."

"Maybe it sucks to talk about it," Cat suggested. "I mean if they were really best friends once, and they had a fight so big that they haven't spoken for years, it must've hurt pretty bad, dontcha think?"

"I guess," Tyler grudgingly admitted. "But we're not supposed to have big secrets from each other."

"Grown-ups are funny like that," Christina consoled him, shrugging and patting his shoulder. "What do you think they fought about?"

"I've been trying to figure that out myself," Ryan confessed. "I tried to Google their player history but I couldn't really find anything, just some old stats. I don't think it has anything to do with hockey."

"Fights between guys that get this bad, dude," Max appeared from behind him and butted in on the conversation, "it's gotta be about a girl. Love makes us all do stupid things." Wisdom imparted, he skated off.

Cat watched him leave. "He has a point."

"A stupid one," Tyler mumbled. "My dad met my mom in Texas."

"Maybe it was about a girl before your mom," Christina suggested. “Maybe Ryan’s dad got the girl and she’s his mom!”

“No way,” Ryan told her, “my dad met my mom after he and Coach Ackles had their big fight.” As he pondered this, a light bulb turned on in Ryan's mind. "Maybe your mom would know what happened between them, Ty! Think she'd mind if you asked her?" Ryan asked, and then watched in slight horror as Tyler's bottom lip wobbled.

"She died," Tyler said quietly, "a long time ago. Like when I was three."

"Oh," Ryan was not usually at a loss for words but now was one of those times. He wrapped his arm around Tyler's shoulders. "Sorry, dude."

"S'okay," Tyler sniffed, giving his head a little shake.

"My parents are divorced," Ryan offered with a shrug, mostly to break the awkward silence. “Can’t ask my mom either.”

"That sucks, man."

"Yeah," he affirmed, "my dad's got full custody."

"How often do you see your mom?"

"Once or twice a year," he stated, hoping his voice sounded casual. "She works for a magazine in New York." He was used to not having his mother in his life; it had been him and his dad for a whole lot of years now and he liked that just fine, but he still couldn't help feeling abandoned sometimes. Like maybe if he was better or more interesting, his mom would want to hang out with him more. He shook his head to clear it. "I'm used to it. And my dad's pretty awesome."

"So's mine." Tyler smiled as he studied his father from a distance. The coach was skating out onto the rink holding what looked like a big crate of eggs, and a box of Twinkies. He looked at Ryan and shrugged; yeah, Ryan had no idea either. Coach Ackles had a funny way of teaching them how to play hockey, but he preferred his style over Coach Morgan's any day. "I dunno," Tyler mused as he watched his father carefully place eggs on the ice, "they seemed like they were pretty good friends once, you know? I mean, we have their names. It kinda sucks that they don't like each other now."

"Yeah."

"Especially when I like you so much, dude."

Ryan could feel his face growing hot, and a goofy grin came out to play. "Yeah?"

"I've never really had a best friend before." Tyler blushed again. That would never not be funny, Ryan realized with a chuckle.

"Hey!" Christina smacked Tyler in the chest. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

"You're my best girl friend," he argued, and then his whole face went super-red. Ryan doubled over in laughter as Cat giggled beside him. "As in a girl who is a friend! Shut up!" Tyler growled, smiling sheepishly at Christina. "I meant that I want a best guy friend."

"Dude," Ryan choked out, "you should see your face!"

Christina smiled. "I better be your only girlfriend, Tyler Ackles. But you can have as many girls-who-are-just-friends as you want."

Tyler suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "For real?"

"Meh. The other boys around here are kinda gross," Christina shrugged, although the look in her eyes was teasing.

"Gee, thanks," Ryan grumbled good-naturedly.

"It's all right," she winked at him, "You can have Cat."

"Christina!" Her sister shrieked, and Ryan caught her embarrassed glance for just seconds before his gaze hit the ice.

Tyler laughed at him, the idiot. "Dude, you should totally transfer to our school. Then we could be best friends for real and hang out and stuff everyday!" And Ryan grinned like a loon, because yeah, that sounded awesome. He'd never really had a best friend before either, not with his dad moving them around so much for his job.

"Yeah, like that'll work out great when your dads can't stand the sight of each other," Cat reminded them helpfully. Ryan wasn't too far gone to glare at her for a second, but Tyler didn't seem too worried.

"Easy solution to that," he stated, smirking, "we just get them to kiss and make up."

The four of them giggled, as Christina ribbed, "What? Like Josie's two dads?"

"No, silly," Tyler poked out his tongue at her. "You know what I mean. How bad can that fight be after they've had thirteen years to get over it?"

Christina whistled. "That's, like, older than we are."

"But that's just the thing, though," Ryan interjected, "they're not over it. Or - well, maybe my dad's willing, but Coach Ackles is definitely not over it."

"So," Tyler mused, "we work on getting him to come 'round." He looked at Ryan in earnest. "My dad always says that everyone deserves a second chance."

"He must've changed his mind over the years, 'cause my dad said he had one strike and he was out."

"Maybe if we put our heads together, we can make them friends again," Cat speculated.

Max - appearing from nowhere again and causing them all to squeak in surprise - threw his arms around Tyler and Ryan's shoulders. "When dad was coach, he needed parents to help out with away games and stuff. Oh, and don't forget the annual Riverside Camp-Out. Last year my mom, Aunt Sandy and Josie's dads all tagged along to watch us. My parents aren't going this year, but Josie's dads have already signed on to help Coach Ackles out." He shrugged and skated off.

"Yeah. Yeah!" Tyler agreed, like it was a common occurrence for Max to appear from nowhere like a ninja every so often and deliver sage insight before disappearing again. "They used to play hockey then. We're playing hockey now," he gestured between Ryan and himself. "We get them together and maybe they'll remember all the good old times! And away games are a lot of work; Dad told me just last night that could use a hand!"

Ryan grinned widely. "I volunteer my dad!"

"Awesome," Tyler returned his smile cheerfully, high-fiving Ryan's uplifted palm. "And guys, the Riverside Camp-Out is tradition. Coach Collins always takes the team camping up in Algonquin park just to watch the colors change or do some bonding with nature or each other or something. It's Labor Day weekend and dad has to be there!"

"That's perfect!" Ryan declared, an idea forming in his head. "Maybe we can get them to share a tent - they'll be forced to talk stuff out if they’re stuck together. My guidance counselor always tells me it's bad to bottle up stuff inside for too long."

"Dude, you don't know my dad at all," Tyler shook his head a little miserably. "He's so good at it, he should start his own bottling company."

"Are you guys serious?" Cat asked in disbelief. "There's no way Coach Ackles would ever agree to sharing a tent with Mr. Padalecki in the first place!"

Christina grinned, her eyes playful. "So we don't give him a choice."

"What have you got in mind, X?" Tyler asked, taking the words right out of Ryan's mouth.

"You leave that to us," Christina said, grinning at her sister, "we'll come up with something. But for now," she put her hand out into the middle of the little circle the four of them had formed, and three more hands slapped down on top of hers, "mischief managed."



Jared watched as an egg hit Jensen square in the chest, sunshine yellow spattering against his navy hoodie. Jensen leaned down to look at himself, laughing as the kids around him cackled, hands slapping knees, thoroughly enjoying their coach's creative training technique to teach them how to softly handle the puck on the ice.

What the Twinkies were for was anybody's guess, Jared mused with a smile, his heart swelling with affection. Jensen always did have a way with kids, grouchy as he was, and he certainly had a knack for hockey. This coaching gig suited him; he looked so comfortable out there on the ice: Papa Duck with his happy, boisterous little ducklings flocking around him.

Best not to ever mention that analogy to Jensen, Jared thought to himself. The man already hated his guts as it was.

"Your kid's good," Coach Collins spoke from just next to him, and Jared jumped almost a foot in the air. The man was on crutches, for Chrissake; how had he not heard him coming?

"Thanks," Jared muttered once his breathing had returned to normal. "Something good he got from me."

"I'm sure he got a lot of good things from you," the man said thoughtfully. "He looks very much like you."

"Yeah. He looks almost exactly like I did at his age."

"It must be why Jensen's taken such a shine to him," the coach continued. "I heard you two grew up together."

Jared's hackles rose; had Jensen confided in this guy? Jared figured they were friends, but how close were they? "Where'd you hear that?"

"Chad mentioned it last night. It was poker night and you know, all our kids go to the same school and they talk."

"Right. Chad. Mine doesn't. My kid, that is. Er... go to the same school as the others."

"Sure, you guys live at the other end of Riverside. Wouldn't make any sense if Ryan went to school here." Coach Collins mumbled, barking with laughter as Jensen got beaned in the head with an egg, and waving a towel at him before looking up at Jared, his expression inscrutable. "He's amazingly good with them, isn't he?"

Jared nodded, but couldn't speak; Jensen had just skated right up to the rink edge where they stood.

"Not one of my better ideas," he told the other coach with a lazy grin that had Jared gripping the boards just to stop from reaching out and wiping off a smear of yolk at his temple.

Coach Collins grinned. "It's like Disney's Eggs on Ice out there, dude. But on the upside, they haven't broken very many apart from the ones they keep deliberately shooting at you."

Jensen chuckled, still blatantly ignoring Jared's presence. "Yeah, I noticed, believe me."

"So Jensen, I was thinking..."

"Misha - you know how much I hate it when you do that."

Collins laughed, giving Jensen a friendly punch on the shoulder. Jared felt a hot, sharp, painful pang of jealousy shoot right through him. "Shut up. I was thinking we need to find some sponsors and get these kids new safety gear, and maybe try for real uniforms. You think your business could put some cash in the pot?"

"I'll check our budget, man, even though I'm sure we can swing for something. I don't have enough to cover all our expenses though," Jensen stared back at his team, brow furrowed in thought. "I'll talk to some of our suppliers, if you hit up the local businesses."

"My firm can help," Jared volunteered, and Jensen bristled but Jared continued anyway, bracing himself for the undoubted cold front headed right for him. "My company is always looking to sponsor local teams. I didn't bother trying for the Demons because I know they have enough sponsorship, but it's a different story with the Ducks."

"We don't need your charity," Jensen spat, his tone clipped, his eyes barely making contact with Jared's.

Jared gritted his teeth. "It's not goddamn charity, Jensen. You were just talking about getting local businesses on board and I'm volunteering the company I work for, so what the fuck is your problem?"

"You think throwing a bunch of money at us will magically buy you a win?" Jensen huffed, leaning in closer, his gaze fiery. "I know all about corporate sponsors. I don't want to give the kids something that'll be snatched away from them if they lose!"

"I would not let that happen and you know it, Jensen!" Jared argued heatedly. "In case it's slipped your mind, my son is on your team, and I don't want to see him or any other kid crushed like that."

"We can make do without your help," Jensen snarled, practically in Jared's face.

"Your team," Jared growled, infuriated at the man's stubbornness, "is playing with nondescript jerseys that have their names written on duct tape stuck to their backs! You need all the help you can get!"

"Guys, please," Coach Collins interrupted, a hand on each of their chests as he held them apart. "You're attracting an audience and I really don't want to be written up for unsportsmanlike conduct." He sighed when they backed off from each other. "Face it, Jensen. He's got a point. A lot of our equipment is old and needs to be replaced. The kids' safety is on the line here."

"You're right," Jensen muttered, the fire from a few moments ago effectively banked, for the moment at least. He nodded at the coach and then curtly at Jared. "I'll leave the details up to you two. Thanks for the offer, Padalecki. The kids will appreciate it."

Hot-headed to humble in seconds and Jared was still reeling as he watched Jensen skate away from them.

Christ, this was going to be a long season.



Somewhere in Algonquin National Park, Labor Day Weekend

"Well?" Max and Connor asked in unison as Tyler opened the tent flap and he and Ryan scrambled back inside.

"Nothing," Ryan complained dejectedly.

"Yeah, not a peep," Tyler affirmed, "except, you know, for the sound of teeth chattering."

"Who do you think that was?" Max asked.

Tyler shrugged. "Well, considering we only left them with my dad's sleeping bag and his dad's two-man tent, and my dad hogs the covers in bed..."

"Yeah, but my dad's always warm, dude," Ryan said, "like a furnace warm."

"Whatever," Tyler huffed impatiently, "the point is, there was no talking in that tent."

"Jeez, what is it with grown-ups?" Connor asked. Tyler supposed he was being rhetorical and chose not to answer.

The four of them sat cross-legged in a circle, flashlights focused on their chins, eerily lighting up their faces, as they pondered their next move.

"Yeah, I got nothing, dude," Max said after a good five minutes of silence.

Tyler fell back against his sleeping bag in defeat. If Max had run out of ideas, Operation BFF was well and truly doomed.



Jensen slammed the door to his F-150 shut and grabbed a couple of grocery bags from the truck bed; ice cream kept cooler out in the chilly open air than in the heated cab.

The frown that had been marring his face all day finally slid off when he saw his son waiting for him on the sidewalk in front of their house, flanked by Josie and one of her dads, Mike Rosenbaum.

"Hey, guys," he called out, before reaching out a hand to shake Mike's outstretched one. "Thanks for taking care of Tyler, man. I owe you."

"No worries, Coach," Mike grinned as he watched Tyler wrap his body around Jensen's in a big hug. Jensen ruffled his kid's hair, narrowly avoiding the impulse to kiss him in front of a friend. He blew out a sigh of relief at his quick reflexes. The ensuing lecture about public displays of affection would not have been pleasant. Jensen was just glad Tyler's stance on the matter didn't extend to private displays of affection, because his kid gave the best hugs in the world, bar none.

Well, except one, a tiny voice reminded him and he shushed it almost immediately, shaking that train of thought right out of his head.

Tyler and Josie each took a bag from him and walked up to the front door, both dads watching their kids in fond approval. Nothing beat good manners, Jensen mused. Speaking of which... "Dude, you've got to talk to Josie about her... er, temper issues."

"What about her temper?" Mike asked, deceptively nonchalant. Jensen suppressed a grin. He leaned in so the kids wouldn't hear.

"She tends to go apeshit on any boy who looks at her funny."

Mike smiled indulgently, looking way too proud at that. "Then I have taught her well."

"Seriously?"

Mike huffed out a breath. "Jensen, look at her. Cute like a pixie even if she is a bit of a tomboy. She's gonna grow up gorgeous, I just know it. And then, Jensen," Mike turned to him, hands on his shoulders, shaking Jensen slightly to make his point. "Then - they will come. In droves."

"Who?"

"Boys!" Mike exclaimed, growling. Jensen smothered his laughter with his hand. "I'm just teaching her how to protect herself and it's the one parenting technique that Tommy totally backs me up on!" He jabbed a thumb behind him and Jensen turned to see Mike's husband, Tom Welling, sitting on their porch steps across the street, long legs stretched out in front of him. Jensen waved and Tommy returned the greeting with a tip of his coffee mug while Mike ranted on. "After we're done with her training, no boy will dare touch her even with a ten-foot pole!"

Jensen, still shaking with laughter, hazarded a glance up to his own front porch, where Tyler and Josie had their heads together, whispering and laughing, Tyler with his arm slung around Josie's shoulders. He groaned when Mike turned to look at them too.

"Please tell me I'm not gonna need to get a bodyguard for my kid."

"S'okay. Tyler's adorable," Mike assured him with a smirk. "He's genuinely the sweetest kid I've ever met and that's all on you, man."

Jensen's smiled, small and sincere. "No. He's like that in spite of me."

Mike blinked, studying him in silence before shrugging and yelling at Josie that it was time to go. Both their kids jogged up to them. "Hey peanut," Mike addressed his daughter, who scrunched up her nose in offense. "Coach here tells me you're getting a little rough on the rink. Anything I need to worry about?"

Josie grinned cheekily up at her father. "Nope."

"All righty then," Mike returned, looking at Jensen. "See? Problem solved."

Jensen rolled his eyes and stared down at Josie. "How about a compromise? How about you don't beat up guys on your own team?"

Josie considered this before finally nodding. "I'll try."

"Awesome," Mike took the words from Jensen's mouth. "You stick to boys like Tyler."

"Tyler's taken, daddy."

"What?" Jensen and Mike exclaimed in unison. Tyler screwed his eyes shut, his face giving new meaning to the term beet-red.

Mike clutched at Jensen's arm. "Can they be taken at ten?"

"We're eleven, daddy," Josie sneered. Her derision was a thing of beauty, and Jensen would totally appreciate it if he hadn't been asphyxiating at the fact that his son had a girlfriend. Christina, of course. And apparently, it was official.

Christ, Danneel was going to kill him. And her husband would cheerfully aid and abet her and dump his dead body in the Don River.

"Are you taken?" Mike asked in wild-eyed panic, and Josie just smirked.

"Not yet."

"Not yet?" Mike squawked, loud enough that Tom actually stood up, watching them intently from across the street. "Not yet? What's that supposed to mean? Jo-sie!"

Josie started walking away, mischief sparking in her eyes. "Dad-dy!"

"Tommy, get our shotgun," Mike yelled at his husband, who thankfully remained rooted to the spot as their daughter looked both ways before crossing their small side street, running straight into his arms, giggling.

Jensen decided to focus on his own little problem and turned away. Tyler bit his lip, smiling up at him from under long lashes that girls would probably kill for, pink still staining his round cheeks. Jensen couldn't resist teasing. "X?"

The color flooded back into his face. "Yeah," he confirmed in the smallest voice possible.

Jensen's lips twitched. "And Josie?" Tyler mimed zipping his lips and Jensen rolled his eyes; he wasn't born yesterday, after all. "Will."

"Holy crap!" Tyler sounded shocked. "How'd you know?"

"She beats him up the most. Dead giveaway," Jensen chuckled, vaguely wondering what a potential wedding between the Beavers and the Rosenbaum-Wellings would look like. Probably an impromptu mix of class and chaos, with both sides bringing their own signature style to the proceedings. Jensen shuddered and hoped he would get an invite just to be an eye-witness to the anarchy. He glanced at his son. "How was your first day of school, champ?"

"Great! I like most of my new teachers," Tyler launched into an account of his day as they went inside and took the groceries into the kitchen. Once there, Jensen finally gave in and hugged him close, Tyler allowing the interruption and even kissing him back, before continuing on with his tale. Finally winded, he asked Jensen, "And how was your day, honey?"

Jensen playfully cuffed him on the head and was about to tell him when the phone rang. He motioned for Tyler to get it as he wondered what they could have for dinner. Tyler was gone all of ten seconds before he ran back into the kitchen, worry etching every line in his frowning little face.

"What is it?"

"It's Ryan, daddy," Tyler started. "He's crying..."

Jensen grabbed the phone from him as Tyler huddled close, his small hand gripping Jensen's belt like a lifeline. "Ryan?"

"Hi... hey, Coach," the other boy's voice stuttered over the line. He sounded stuffed up and forlorn, and Jensen's heart leapt to his throat in fear.

"Ryan, what is it? Are you okay, kiddo?"

"I'm... I'm fine, but Dad isn't..." And Jensen's heart, he swore, literally stopped beating in that split second.

"Oh my God! What happened?"

"He's sick. He's been sick since we got back from Algonquin, but he's worse today. Like a lot worse. He sent me off to school this morning but he didn't go into work and now he's so hot and shivery and I don't know what to do!" Ryan sobbed openly now. "Nana and gramps and Aunt Megan are in Kingston and I can't even reach them right now, and Uncle Jeff is at the hospital. I didn't know who else to call," he sniffed pathetically. "I'm sorry, Coach."

Jensen wiped a hand down his face. "No worries, kiddo - you did the right thing. Give me your address, we'll come right over."



Tyler wasn't quite sure how it happened so quickly, but one minute he and his dad were about to spend another night in together, just the Ackles men, same as always, and then suddenly, they were driving really fast clear across Riverside to rescue Ryan.

In a few hours, his dad - who in Tyler's mind bagged the Father of the Year Award every year, and today was just more evidence of that - had everything sorted. Once Ryan's dad, who really was sick and practically incoherent with fever, was snuggled under a mountain of blankets, knocked out by Nyquil, his dad took their two big, awesome, huge, amazing dogs -Harley and Sadie - out to do their business before making another run for groceries (he was pretty shocked that all Ryan and his dad ate was takeout), and then cooked them dinner which included making some chicken soup that he eventually made Ryan's daddy drink, delirious or not.

Ryan begged them to stay the night and after thinking about it some, his dad nodded, giving Ryan the sort of hug he usually reserved for Tyler, and they stayed, Ryan lending Tyler an extra pair of jammies for the night.

Tyler was restless though, so after trying to sleep for about an hour, he left Ryan's bedroom in search of his father, finally finding him in Ryan's dad's dimly lit room, looking at a photo frame in his hand.

"Daddy?"

His father jumped, startled but quickly recovered, replacing the frame on the dresser before scooping him up into his arms, something Tyler didn't usually allow but tonight, he felt like he needed extra hugs.

"What's the matter, can't sleep?" His dad whispered, doing that thing where he breathed in at his neck, as if he really liked the way Tyler smelled. It always made him feel loved and toasty-warm inside, and he snuggled deeper into his father's arms, giving a small shrug.

"Different bed."

"Hmm."

"Is Mr. Padalecki gonna be okay?" Tyler asked, nodding towards the sleeping figure huddled under the blankets.

"Call him Jared," his dad whispered, "Mr. Padalecki is his father. And yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine. Ryan says his Uncle Jeff - that's Jared's older brother - usually comes over in the morning after a late shift at the hospital. And Jeff's a doctor, he'll make sure Jared's okay."

"You know their family pretty well, huh?" Tyler asked, pulling back slightly to look his father in the face.

"Yeah... used to." His dad's eyes flicked to the photo frame again, so Tyler looked at it too. His breath caught when he realized he was looking at a picture of them: Ackles and Padalecki, Numbers 13 and 14 on their bright blue Canucks jerseys, worn with pride, as they looked over their shoulders at the camera; bright, happy smiles on their faces, arms slung around each other. Best friends and teammates, but not forever.

"How come you never told me?" Tyler asked, willing his voice not to wobble.

The strong arms that held him tightened, and his dad's voice came out as wobbly as his. "Didn't mean to keep it from you," he said, still looking at that picture.

"You guys looked really happy."

His father nodded. "Yeah. We were. Then it all changed."

"Still wish you would have told me. No secrets, remember?"

Realizing how much that bugged Tyler, his father looked at him. "I never meant not to tell you, but sometimes..." his voice hitched and he had to stop and clear his throat, and suddenly Tyler was horrified because... were those tears in his father's eyes? "Sometimes, the people you love can hurt you, and the more you love them, the more it hurts." He swallowed, tears slipping down his cheeks. Tyler reached out without thinking and wiped them away. His dad took a deep breath and sniffed, hugging him closer, getting a hold of himself. "It's like my love of hockey died the day our friendship ended. I didn't ever want to play again. It was too painful. I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it and I guess I got used to doing it all my life since then."

"It's okay, dad," Tyler comforted him, kissing his cheek. "I'm not mad."

"Good." With another squeeze, he walked them out of the room and down the hall to Ryan's. "Let's get you back to bed... school tomorrow."

"'Kay," Tyler said, leaning in for one more kiss before scrambling into bed next to Ryan. "G'nite, daddy."

"Sleep tight, buddy."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay if you don't want to coach the Ducks anymore," Tyler whispered, his heart squeezing in his chest. "I'd understand."

His father smiled, that smile reaching all the way up to his eyes which meant it was real and from the heart. "And miss out on coaching my son? No way," he assured Tyler. "Besides, you taught me to love hockey again. Never would've thought that was possible."

"You really mean it?"

"Yeah. I really mean it," he said, sounding vaguely surprised. "And I'm having fun with you kids. And if you want to play hockey, I'll be by your side all the way."

"Thanks, daddy. Love you."

"Love you too, kiddo." His dad winked and smiled wider, closing the door behind him. Tyler sighed and turned towards Ryan, not sure what to do or think at that moment. He wasn't too surprised when his friend's eyes blinked blearily open.

"'S'up?" Ryan muttered sleepily.

"Dude," Tyler whispered, not quite meeting his friend's eyes. "I think I want to punch your dad."

Ryan came all the way awake at that. "What? Why?"

"Whatever he did to my dad must've been worse than we ever thought."

"Hey, did your dad tell you something?"

Tyler shook his head, his breath stuttering with pointless anger. "No! But he cried, Ryan!"

Ryan frowned, propping himself up on one elbow, looking scared. "Does that mean we can't be friends anymore?"

Tyler bit his lip, and mulled that over. "No," he muttered, surprised when Ryan gasped. "No! I mean, yeah - we can still be friends. You didn't do anything wrong, you weren't even born yet."

"Oh. Thanks. That's good, right?"

"Not good, dude. So not good."

"How come?"

"Because I don't think they can be friends ever again."