I Fought The Law, Part 4/4!
IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME. I'm pretty sure I got my mojo back, and I just finally finished this damn thing. What a relief! Time to submit for the possessive!Jensen challenge over at topjensen_dean. Now I can start working on spook_me and the rest of my 100 prompts for fanfic100! And then prepare for NaNo! Hopefully, I won't lose my mind.
I have flisty things to get caught up on, like fics and comments and such. I will do that!
Also, this happened to me. Be warned!
Title: I Fought The Law
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 063. Summer.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 22,324
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language and hardcore smexing, both het and slash.
Summary: Jensen Ackles feels trapped in Richardson, Texas, living according to others' expectations and doing his best to abide by the law. He longs for more excitement in his life, and turns to tracking down outlaws, earning himself a badge and a good reputation. But the men he captures seem more alive than he could ever be, and when the infamous Jared makes himself known in Richardson, Jensen makes a decision that changes his life forever.
Disclaimer: Not only do I not even know them, but this is an AU...clearly not trufax.
Author's Notes: tishawyman wanted a historical AU. This is what I've got so far. Jensen's character is based slightly on Burton Alvord. You gotta love Google. And I kind of love Christian Kane.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
1900 - Eleven Years Later - San Antonio, Texas
It wasn’t as if Jeff didn’t know any English words. He just didn’t always know enough to string together a complete sentence, and, mostly for that reason, he preferred speaking in his native tongue. Polish was easy for him, familiar. He would’ve liked to say that it reminded him of simpler times, living at home. But those times hadn’t been simple after Jared was born and their mother had died. No, life hadn’t been simple or easy in those days, and he’d never dream of going back there, where his little brother was hated by his own father for a crime he didn’t commit. If he’d had to relive that moment where he lit out after Jared, he’d make the same choice again and again. He’d take the danger and uncertainty over watching Jared fall to his father’s hand any day.
He’d never thought they’d end up like this, though. It seemed impossible to feel so settled when always on the move, evading the law. But it was something they were used to by now, and they’d almost created a little family of their own out here on the run. Jeff found more comfort with these four men than he ever had with his father, or anyone else back home. But of the three members they’d added to their gang, Jensen was his favorite. He had no trouble admitting it, though Chad had been around longer, and Christian was always nice enough. But Jensen looked out for him the same way Jared did, looked out for Jared the way Jeff used to before his brother had gotten older and quicker. He knew that Jensen was more than a friend to Jared, and while he couldn’t help but wonder what their father would’ve thought of that, he’d never seen his little brother happier. Jensen had changed all of their lives for the better, giving Christian a new job with the gang, helping to keep Chad in line, loving Jared, and quickly becoming Jeff’s best friend, even with the language barrier.
That was why he had to save Jensen. He’d never forget the day that Jensen saved his life. He could still feel the fear, the chill that swept through him when the gun had stared him down. He still flinched when he remembered the sound of the gunshot, so relieved to realize it had been Jensen’s gun that had gone off and not the farmer’s. Now, so many years later, he cursed himself for not being able to help Jensen when the law had first set upon them. They’d split up again, Jared and Christian off on a robbery, while Jensen took him and Chad out to rustle up some more cattle. It had been the wrong place, wrong time, the area already so rife with cattle rustlers that everyone’s eyes were peeled. Jeff not only cursed himself, but cursed Chad. Chad had gotten too carried away, too cocky, and he’d flaunted his speed and agility, purposely riding too close to the men who were after them. Jensen had yelled back to him, told him to cut it out and ride like hell, but Chad hadn’t listened. For all that Jensen kept him in line, Chad still had one hell of a stupid streak, and in the end, it was Jensen who took the fall. Jensen, always the hero, doubling back to get Chad out of a jam and getting himself caught in the process. Jeff had almost done the same for him, but Jensen screamed at them both to get the hell out of there. He knew that Jensen was right. They needed to get away first and come back later, unexpected. But that didn’t mean he felt good about what he’d done, leaving Jensen roped and wrestled to the ground, where no man of his power should be.
That was why Jeff was here, now, San Antonio prison, gun in hand, Chad still in hiding where he belonged. It made him nervous, carrying the weapon around like that, but he’d just do as his brother always did; hold it, wave it around, threaten and shoot, but don’t injure. “Nobody gets hurt.” That was what Jared always said. The gun wasn’t a weapon, but a tool. And at that moment, it was the key to busting Jensen out of jail.
****
Jensen sat back in the corner of his darkened cell, feeling like a caged animal. He stretched his jaw, craned his neck, working out the kinks and feeling out the bruises. For people intent on keeping the peace, the lawmen around here sure had a tendency for unnecessary roughness, at least when it came to the sort of men with Jensen’s reputation. Then again, he guessed he couldn’t blame them, what with being a former lawman himself and running them all ragged. Still, it tore him up to hold back, to resist fighting and giving them a few bruises of his own. He sat and seethed, wondering how long it would be before he could find a way out. He was sure that Jared would come for him if he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and pictured his lover, blowing out a soft sigh, sweat trickling down his neck in the damp heat of the prison.
He never expected it to be Jeff. He never expected to open his eyes and see Jeff bursting into the jailhouse, gun raised, and he shot to his feet, eyes wide and hands clinging to the bars.
“Jeff?!” he called out, through the surprised shouts of the sheriff and deputy, their game of cards rudely interrupted. They were on their feet, and Jensen could see them contemplating going for their own guns. He shifted, suddenly feeling nervous. “Hey, hey, calm down, men,” he said, voice low. “Nobody has to get hurt, here. He’s just a friend of mine, that’s all.”
“Well a friend of yours ain’t a friend of ours,” the sheriff growled, tossing a glare back at him. “We don’t let our prisoners go easy.”
“Nobody gets hurt,” Jeff said suddenly, accent thick, looking to Jensen and nodding, as if agreeing with what he’d said. He turned back to the sheriff and deputy, gun still held high. “Nobody gets hurt,” he repeated, then nodded towards Jensen’s cell. “Jensen.”
“Jeff, you be careful,” Jensen murmured, hoping Jeff understood him. He’d been getting better at that, with Jensen trying to talk to him more and more, English phrases finally making sense to him. His stomach churned, praying that nobody would get hurt, but also hoping that Jeff would have the ability to shoot first if it came down to it.
“Jensen,” Jeff bit out, his voice coming harder as he stepped closer to the men, gun poised and ready. They finally relaxed, giving in, the sheriff grabbing the ring of keys off the wall and trudging over slowly to unlock Jensen’s cell.
“Oh, you crazy son of a bitch,” Jensen breathed, barking out a nervous laugh as he smiled at Jeff. The cell opened, and Jensen took one step out.
One step out, and the sheriff grabbed him by the arm, quickly reaching for his gun, ready to either kill him first or hold him hostage while standing off with Jeff. Jensen flinched at the sound of the first gunshot, swearing he’d heard the bullet fly past him, the sheriff groaning in pain and falling away just before another shot sounded and the deputy hit the ground.
Jensen had no time to register what had happened, looking back just enough to see that the men were merely injured, one shot in the shoulder, the other in the foot, and then Jeff was grabbing him and hauling him out of there, the two of them running for their lives. Jensen wasn’t even thinking, his mind a blur as he blindly followed Jeff to where he’d brought two horses, quickly mounting one and riding away with him into the night.
****
“Fuck, you shot them?!” Chad yelled, pacing around the second floor room of the brothel. “You all hate me for the stupid mistakes I make, and then Jeff goes and shoots people? Do you have any idea what that means for us?”
“Yes,” Christian hissed, the five of them back together again. He grabbed Chad by the shoulders and stopped him in mid-pace. “We do know. It means we’re more hunted than ever now. As if it wouldn’t have happened sooner or later, anyway. Now sit down and shut the fuck up.”
Jared watched the exchange, watched Chad grumble and bow out of the argument, bending to Christian’s will and taking a seat in the closest chair. He watched as Jensen approached Jeff, who stood in the corner with his head bowed, and gently gripped his shoulder, speaking soothing, familiar words.
“Nie martw się.”
All the knots in Jared’s stomach, all the anxiety he’d been riddled with upon returning and hearing what his brother had done, disappeared when he saw the way that Jensen comforted him, speaking his own language to him, Jeff looking up and returning the small smile that Jensen offered him.
“It’ll be alright,” Jared said softly, his eyes still on Jensen. Jensen turned to look at him, and Jared held his gaze, even while talking to the others, his heart swelling in his chest. “It’ll all be alright. We’ll make it through, just like always.” He smiled, repeating Jensen’s words in English. “Don’t worry.”
****
Jared moved even as Jensen laughed and told him to slow down, kissing him hungrily. It scared him, not just losing Jeff, but losing Jensen. None of them had been caught before, and the fact that it had been their strongest member was worrisome. More than that, it was terrifying to think that the two people he loved the most had been in such danger. And Jensen only was because he’d been protecting Chad. Jensen, protecting his men. Jensen, protecting his brother. Jensen caring for him, comforting him, and speaking his native language. He moaned into Jensen’s mouth when the other man relaxed into the bed beneath him, kissing him one more time before breaking apart, panting.
“You,” he murmured, reaching down to cup Jensen through his pants, loving the feel of the hardness beneath them. “What you do for him. For me.”
He’d somehow lost the ability to form sentences, Jensen grunting and pressing his hips up, arching into Jared’s touch. He looked up at him with glazed eyes, reached out and threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling him close and whispering sinfully in his ear.
“Kocham cię.”
Jared shuddered at the words, gasping and quickly moving down Jensen’s body. He didn’t answer him, couldn’t yet, just knew he had to please him, feel him in his mouth. Jensen jerked when Jared wrapped long fingers around his cock, pulling him free of his clothing. He licked at the moisture collecting at the tip, delighted at the sound of Jensen moaning his name, and finally closed his lips around the head, sucking lightly. He cherished the taste of Jensen, the feel of his thick organ stretching his mouth open wide, Jensen’s scent going to his head, making the slight throb in his jaw almost enjoyable as he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head, taking as much of Jensen in as he could. The broken noises escaping Jensen’s throat encouraged him, and he moved faster, harder, his fingers gripping and stroking the length that he couldn’t swallow down, Jensen’s hips lifting just so off of the mattress. He felt Jensen’s tension, his pulse, heard his labored breathing, and took the warmth that flooded his mouth, relishing Jensen’s cry of ecstasy as he swallowed every last drop, the taste lingering on his tongue.
He only answered after Jensen had softened and he’d let him fall from his lips, licking them and crawling back up to kiss him again, Jensen tiredly kissing him back.
“I love you, too.”
****
Running was part of their lives, their jobs. Christian had told him that enough times. But any other time, they would run when they wanted to. They planned their crimes, staged their thefts, pulled light and easy jobs that not enough people cared about, and stayed in places that no one of any level of higher society would dare to venture out to. Their exits were planned. They just couldn’t stay in the same place for too long. That was all.
But Chad couldn’t get behind this. He couldn’t stomach being forced out, running away because of one person’s mistake. They might have been a group, but they each had their own selves to protect, their own feelings of pride, and their own reputations.
But it was more than that. The others all talked about Jeff’s crime as if it were their own. Everything was in a sense of “we.” If it came down to it, they’d all get caught running, and they’d all take the fall for Jeff’s slippery fingers. They were sure to be tracked now, better than before, and what Jeff had done was no laughing matter. What had been a nothing but a fun lifestyle, freedom, booze, and women, was suddenly serious business. And he’d be damned if he was going to go down for someone else’s mistake. It was too much to ask. He could do enough on his own without being led around by the rest of a gang. He could do without the hierarchy. He’d been under it for too long already.
He could save himself.
****
“You don’t think we should leave him behind?”
Jensen looked up at Christian’s harsh tone, the two of them standing out in the morning sun, readying their horses.
“Leave who behind?” he asked.
“Ain’t it obvious?” Christian said, scoffing. “Chad. It’s his fault we’re all in this mess now, isn’t it?”
“That’s not how we work, Christian,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “Chad made a mistake. He may be hard to deal with, but we don’t leave anybody behind. I can handle him. You know the plan?” Christian nodded, but frowned.
“Yeah, can’t say I like it, though. I got a bad feelin’ about his one, and I usually trust my instincts.”
“Well, let’s hope your instincts are wrong, then.”
Jensen turned away from Christian, contemplating his words. They were leaving San Antonio, but that was the best part of their plan. They had to get out now, while they still could. Reputations were one thing, but once your men started shooting people, your head was on the line. Running was part of their job, their lifestyle, but this was different. They were complicating things once they crossed the border of the city, running together and taking their chances on a train robbery, following the K-T tracks east and waiting for their opportunity to strike. The take was irresistible, and with the five of them, it should be easy. But Christian’s hesitance gave Jensen pause, his own stomach twisting with apprehension. The sun beat down on him, and he could feel his clothes sticking to him already, like they always did in the height of summer. And, through the heat, he felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of what could possibly be in store for them.
But he would never admit his fear, and, when the time came, he mounted his horse and rode out with the others, leading them out of San Antonio and into uncertainty.
****
The K-T train was running slow just outside of San Antonio, taking its time to get back up to full speed after stopping at the city’s station. It quickly came to a complete stop when the engineer spotted Jensen and Christian on the tracks just ahead of it, still on their horses. Once stopped, Jensen led his horse off the tracks, heading closer to the train, Christian close behind.
“Jensen.”
Christian’s voice was quiet and flat, carefully toneless, and Jensen slowed his horse to a stop, looking around. His anxiety was back, full-fledged, knowing Christian had spotted something he hadn’t. Jared had already burst from the surrounding trees, horses hidden there, Jeff and Chad in tow, ready to mount the train, and he paused, eyes catching Jensen’s and taking on his fear and confusion.
“What is it?”
“Back to your horses!” Christian suddenly shouted, drawing his gun and moving around Jensen, the sound of his horse’s hooves being drowned out by a team of others. Jensen turned and felt his heart stop in his chest, staring at the group of men heading for them, weapons at the ready. He recognized one as the sheriff that Jeff had shot, shoulder still wrapped as he rode at them awkwardly “Run! Go! Now!”
“They followed us!” Jensen shouted in disbelief, wondering how the he could’ve let this happen. Nobody was ever able to track them before. How the hell had he missed this?
Jared had heard his words, followed his gaze, and grabbed Jeff, running back for the trees and their horses. He pushed Jeff ahead of him, and Jensen could hear his frantic shouts at Jeff to go, get back to safety. Jensen rode after them, he and Christian doing their damnedest to block them as their pursuers came closer. Jensen stopped his horse and turned to look back when he realized they were missing one.
“Chad!” he yelled, and he heard the sound of Christian halting and turning, too, readying himself to go back for him.
And Chad was still standing by the train, far away, watching the men who were coming for them. Chad was standing there, keeping away, and waiting. He was calm and patient in the midst of their storm, and that was when it hit Jensen. Chad had done this. He’d given away their plan. He’d given them away.
“No,” Jensen muttered, fear striking through him. “NO!”
He turned around, catching sight of the band of men closer to them now, the wounded sheriff leading the way, gun drawn and aimed. He drew his own gun, trying to move as quickly as possible, but he was too late. He fired off a shot to disarm the sheriff, but only after the sheriff had pulled his own trigger.
Jensen turned until his eyes found Jared and Jeff, his head feeling as though it was turning in slow motion. Jeff was still running ahead, almost there, so close to the trees and the horses. He was so close.
And then he fell, jarred by the bullet that hit him.
The world was muted, Jensen barely hearing the agonizing scream that tore from Jared’s throat as his brother hit the ground. He sat dumbly on his horse, feeling as if he’d somehow wandered into a nightmare, where everything had just been ripped out from under him, watching Jared drop to his knees beside Jeff. He couldn’t even move when Jared rose back up, tears already streaking down his face, gun pointed towards the sheriff, firing off shots that were muffled to Jensen’s suddenly deaf ears.
It was a shot that fired behind him that brought him back to reality, and Jensen turned to see Christian’s gun smoking, his eyes hard and furious. Back by the train, Chad lay dead on the ground.
The scene had changed so drastically in a matter of seconds, from calm, quiet, and planned, to chaotic, bodies strewn on the ground. The sheriff had been shot right off his horse, unmoving on the ground, two other men taken down with him. Jared’s look was crazed and distressed, so suddenly pushed to the edge of his sanity.
“Get on your horse!” Christian commanded, and, for once, Jensen was happy to have the lead taken away from him. He’d never been so helpless, so unable to function. Jared ignored the call, poised to keep shooting at the remaining band of five men charging at them, and Christian moved his horse in front of him and reared it up on its hind legs. “Let’s GO!”
****
It was a mess, getting Jensen and Jared out of there, especially having to leave Jeff’s body behind. But Christian managed it, unwilling to let them stand there and die. He’d never run in a gang like this for this long, and he’d come to care for these men more than he’d thought was possible. But from the moment he’d spoken to Jensen from inside his cell, he’d made a friendship that he’d be damned to let break, and Jared was too good of a man to leave behind. He pushed Jeff’s death out of his mind for now. It was too much for him to deal with. Somewhere deep inside, he knew how much it hurt him, but he couldn’t afford to acknowledge it now, or he’d be just as lost as the others. They still needed to survive.
If he thought about it, it even stung a little that he’d killed Chad. The bastard may have deserved it for what he’d done to them, but Christian still couldn’t help but yearn for the old days, over a decade ago, when Chad was only a moody little prick who was still fun to drink with and times were simple, even for them. He guessed that lives like theirs couldn’t stay that way forever, but he wished that they had; that things had never changed. He’d never made a habit of being the dangerous type, hurting and killing people, and he didn’t want to start now.
He wasn’t sure how the three of them had made it out of there alive, or, if he was honest with himself, how he’d even managed to get Jared back on his horse. He was surprised the man had even listened to him, turning his tear-stained face to Jensen before finally mounting and riding off. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to lead the leaders, but there he was, changing direction, managing to evade their pursuers and head south, towards Mexico. He didn’t know how Jensen or Jared would feel about crossing the border, but he thought it’d be best to at least stick close to it, at this point. He doubted they’d make it over any of the state borders in one piece.
They rode in silence, and when he finally made them stop, it was away from any cities or towns, among rocks and trees, a small creek rushing by, and he set about finding wood for a fire while the others climbed down off of their horses. When he returned, he found Jared sitting on the ground, staring into nothingness, Jensen beside him with his arm around him and his head on his shoulder. He paused, something in his chest finally breaking, and suddenly found himself fighting off tears. He opened his mouth, attempting to find words of any kind that would soothe the three of them, but could think of none. He was better off not saying anything.
****
Jensen was hesitant to sit down next to Jared, to comfort him in any way. Guilt choked him from the inside, the grief he felt indescribable, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Jared thought of him now. He’d never felt anything like this. He thought back to when his father was shot and killed and the relief that had come with it. What he felt after losing Jeff was torture, pain shredding his insides, and he prayed that it would stop, but he knew it wouldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jeff falling and felt his heart drop all over again. It never should have happened. He never should have let it. All he wanted was to have that time back. All he wanted was to save Jeff and have him there, with them, sitting by Jared’s side, smiling in their light conversations that would be half English, half Polish. Without even thinking about it, the language came to mind, the second nature it had become after so many years of speaking with Jeff.
“Przepraszam.”
“Don’t,” Jared said, the word solid and flat, and Jensen stiffened, saw Christian freeze out of the corner of his eye, pile of wood in his hands. “Don’t say it like that.”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispered, both apologizing for his mistake and repeating the Polish phrase in English. He felt the bite of Jared’s words, but understood it. The language was too close to Jeff, and everything he’d just lost. “I’m sorry for everything. It’s my fault.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Christian said quietly, and Jensen lifted his head to look at the man, surprised to find a sorrow matching his in his tone and expression. He let his shoulders slump forward, looking at Christian apologetically.
“You warned me,” he said, hating himself more with each word that left his mouth. “You told me you didn’t like this plan. Hell, you told me about Chad. I didn’t listen. And then I wasn’t fast enough. I should’ve known better.”
“My brother just died,” Jared cut in suddenly, his tone cold and laced with venom. His eyes were still staring straight ahead, his body going tense beneath Jensen’s arm. “We left his body on the ground for them to take away and make an example of. Can we have a fucking moment of silence, please?” Jensen lowered his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I’m so-”
“Don’t apologize!” Jared spat, shrugging Jensen off and standing up. “Just stop fucking talking.”
His voice broke on that last word, and he walked off towards the sounds of the nearby stream. Christian dropped the wood he was carrying and sat down next to Jensen, sighing.
“He’s gonna need some time,” Christian said, his voice strangely hoarse. He sniffed before continuing. “We all will. I’m not sayin’ anybody deserves this kinda thing, but someone like Jeff, just…It shouldn’t happen.”
“You know, I’d like to blame Chad for this?” Jensen said, struggling to get the words out through the tightening in his chest, tears slipping slowly down his face. “But I can’t. Yeah, what he did was wrong, but…I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve known. I’m not s’posed to make mistakes like this.” Jensen looked down at his hands, and Christian sighed again.
“I think maybe you expect too much of yourself,” he said. “I think maybe we do. We all make mistakes, Jensen. You’re no different. Hell, in a perfect world, we wouldn’t even be doin’ this shit. Everyone’d be happy, and nobody’d get hurt. But this? This is just…life.”
“And death,” Jensen said, feeling hollow inside. He couldn’t bring himself to find comfort in Christian’s words; not yet. “You said before that this life was excitin’. Said it was worth all the pain, and even gettin’ caught. Well, let me ask you this: Was this worth it?”
“Dammit, Jensen!” Christian cursed, a quiet sob escaping his throat. He wiped at his eyes, settling more into the dirt. “I’m just tryin’…” He thought for a moment, and then spoke again. “Yeah. Yeah, this was worth it. This life was worth it, because we got to know Jeff. And you wouldn’t be sittin’ here cryin’ over him like this if you didn’t know that was true.”
****
Jared stood by the creek, watching the water roll by. He concentrated on his breathing: in and out, in and out. He found himself in a trance, floating between time and space. His breathing faltered when he heard footsteps behind him, the presence of another being breaking his concentration. He knew it was Jensen, and he felt his muscles tense, anger surging through him for no apparent reason, his emotions running wild in the moments that he wasn’t allowing himself to drift away from reality. He felt Jensen stepping closer, flinched at the arms that circled his waist from behind.
“I’m sorry.”
His anger flared at those words, words he didn’t want to hear, though he couldn’t really explain why. He just hated them, hated the tone that accompanied them, the thought, and what it all meant. He’d never been filled with so much rage before, and he spun around in Jensen’s grasp, forcefully shoving him away, hands balled into fists.
“Fuck you!” he screamed, and he moved closer, shoving at Jensen again, the lack of response pushing him even further. He raised his fist, moving to strike Jensen, but the blow somehow softened when it hit the other man’s chest, Jared’s body slowly losing its strength as he tried again with the opposite fist, landing too softly to do any damage. And then he was crumbling, falling apart, an enraged shout followed by a sob wrenching its way up from his chest. Jensen caught him when he fell forward, and he finally gave in, let himself find comfort in Jensen’s arms, let himself cry on his shoulder.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he moved again, only that night was falling, the world growing darker around them. He lifted his head, met Jensen’s eyes, found his lips with his own, needing that solace, that connection. Jensen kissed him back, soft, gentle, just what they both needed to ground themselves. He let his head fall to Jensen’s shoulder again when they parted, hands clinging to Jensen’s sides, pulling at his clothing, desperate to keep hold of him while dark and ugly thoughts swirled inside his head.
“I killed people,” he whispered, almost afraid to say the words aloud and suddenly aware that he was shaking. “Three of them. I’ve never…”
“It’s okay,” Jensen soothed, hands rubbing at his back, and Jared clung to him tighter, loving him so much more for saying it and meaning it. Because he knew just how not okay it was, and how it felt. “It’s okay.”
****
“I think we should be gettin’ on,” Christian said early the next morning, never questioning the fact that Jared and Jensen had spent the night elsewhere, away from the warmth of the fire. “They’re gonna be lookin’ for us.”
Jensen nodded wordlessly, looking to Jared, who remained silent while readying his horse. He thought about the night before, how they’d laid each other down and moved against each other desperately, longing to feel something, anything other than the sorrow and guilt they were burdened with. He remembered moving inside of Jared slowly, trying to make those moments last with long, drawn out kisses, and how all he could taste was the salt of Jared’s tears. But they did crave each other, did give each other something to hold onto, a reason to keep going.
It was hard to let that feeling stretch out into the next day, when you woke up to the harsh reality of losing someone so close to you carving your heart into pieces all over again.
“You okay?” Jensen asked quietly, moving to stand next to Jared. Jared shook his head.
“Of course I’m not okay,” he said, not unkindly. He rested his head against his horse, closing his eyes and sighing, and Jensen rubbed a hand over his back. “I just feel so…weak. It’s like I just failed him, and now…” He trailed off, shrugging, his voice dropping lower. “I’m just weak. Almost don’t even wanna run anymore.”
“You’d get caught.”
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t care.”
Christian cleared his throat, walking towards them, giving a bit of an apologetic smile for interrupting them.
“You ready to go?”
1903 - Three Years Later - Del Rio, Texas
They all knew it would eventually come to this. They’d hugged the Mexican border for a few years now, each one of them surprised they’d managed to last so long on the Texas side of the Rio Grande. They’d made their way back up, northwest, always sticking close to what they’d deemed their salvation, should they ever be tracked down again. They’d looted and robbed along the way, keeping low and alive, staying wherever they could. But it would have to end sometime.
Jared knew it was over when he looked out the window of the nearest brothel and saw a group of lawmen outside, checking over their horses and asking questions. They could’ve been looking for anyone, but Jared’s instincts kicked into high gear. They had to make a run for it.
They did. The gracious women of Del Rio were kind enough to take the attentions of the man away from their horses, and Jared, Jensen, and Christian quickly mounted and took off. Jared had never been much of the praying type. But as he rode ahead of the others, he prayed like hell that he wouldn’t have to experience the same loss he had when they’d run three years before. He constantly looked behind him, keeping as much of an eye on Christian as he did Jensen. Both men were instrumental in keeping him alive after his brother died. Christian’s role had been less noticeable to him before he finally found his way out from the fog of shock and despair.
Jensen was his emotional rock, though the other man didn’t keep his own feelings about Jeff’s death a secret. But that helped him more than anything else. Jensen was his lover, his everything, his sole reason for not giving up. He’d leaned on Jensen in the past three years more than he’d ever leaned on anybody in his entire life. And while he was busy grieving and giving Jensen his heart, Christian was always there in the background, making plans, leading them without Jared ever even realizing it. Christian kept them going, kept them moving, fed and healthy. He owed his life to both of them, and while he hadn’t forgotten how distressing it was to realize that he’d actually killed another human being, he made the disturbing realization that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anybody who hurt the remaining members of his gang. He needed them.
Thankfully, they managed to cross the river without incident, their head start leaving the law too far behind for their shots to really mean anything. They crossed the border and kept riding, stopping only when they passed through a bustling town, satisfied that they were safe.
“Those guys were Texas Rangers,” Christian said as soon as he dismounted, Jared taking a minute to catch on to what he was saying. “We’re in trouble.”
“You’re saying they’ll follow us here?” Jensen asked, shooting a worried glance at Jared.
“I’m sayin’ we better stay hidden,” Christian answered. “This sure ain’t over yet.”
****
They traveled, stayed hidden, kept moving. It was harder to spot a moving target, after all. They moved for a year, and Jared was suffering from his paranoia, barely sleeping. When he did sleep, he’d wrap himself around Jensen so tightly that he’d almost suffocate him. He was terrified; terrified that they’d gone too far, things had gotten too out of control, and that they’d never be able to escape. He was terrified that someone else close to him would die.
Every day, it was all he thought about, and even when Jensen managed to get a smile or laugh out of him, it faded quickly. His fears plagued him, and after a year, those fears moved far too close to the truth.
1904 - One Year Later - Naco, Sonora, Mexico
They were running, this time on foot, and Jensen knew that they would never make it. The Rangers had followed them, trapped them here in Naco on their horses. He could already hear the gunfire, but he didn’t dare look for it, just shouted at Jared and Christian to keep running. Ducking behind a building with the others, hooves and gunshots drowned out all other noises.
“We’ll never make it!” Christian said, shouting to be heard, his eyes wide in fear, but somewhat resigned to his fate. Jensen looked to Jared and saw both fear and anger there, murder to anyone who tried to hurt them. Sweat trickled down his neck as he struggled to catch his breath in the heat and humidity of Mexico, the sun burning his skin.
He looked at Jared and saw everything that had ever made his life worth living, even for this. Christian had been right before. This life was worth it. All of it was worth it. If he’d never had this, if he’d never known Christian, Jeff, or Jared, he’d be empty, hollow. Nothing could ever compare to this experience. His life had been a true journey thus far, and he had these men to thank. He had these men to save.
“You can!” he shouted, watching the realization dawn in Christian’s eyes, able to see Jared shaking his head out of the corner of his eye already. “You can make it if I distract them! If I turn myself in!”
“NO!” Jared yelled, and Jensen could still hear the growl in his voice, the emotion and frustration, eyes already appearing wet as he gripped at Jensen’s shirt. “No, you son of a bitch, you are not leaving me! You know what they’ll do to you!”
“They won’t!” Jensen said, shaking his head, even though he wasn’t so sure of the consequences himself. “I haven’t hurt anyone! You two…They’ll have your heads! You’ve killed people!” Christian looked away, and the tears pooling in Jared’s eyes began to slip down his cheeks. Jensen felt his heart break, but continued anyway, knowing he had to do this. “They’ll hold me, but not forever! Get the hell outta here and stay safe! I’ll find you!” He turned and looked deep into Jared’s eyes, swallowing roughly. “I’ll find you.”
Jared wanted to protest with every fiber of his being, but Jensen held him with his stare, told him without speaking that everything would be alright. Then he uttered familiar words that he felt he hadn’t heard in a lifetime.
“Nie martw się.”
Jared surged forward, gripping his shirt and pulling him into a bruising kiss, pouring all of his emotion into that one moment. Jensen wound his fingers in Jared’s hair, held him close even after their lips parted, Jared dropping his head into his shoulder and breathing in deeply.
“It’ll be alright,” Jensen said. “You have to go. It’s the only way this’ll work. Go, now.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Jared said, sniffling as he straightened back up, giving him one last look before turning away. Christian stepped into view and Jensen smiled as he pulled him into a hug.
“I owe you, man. I’ll see you soon.”
“You owe me for what?” Christian asked, pulling away looking up at him. Jensen’s smile just grew wider.
“Everything.” He nodded towards Jared’s retreating form, aware of the Rangers moving in closer, satisfied that they weren’t going to be shooting back at them any time soon. “Take care of him for me.”
1906 - Two Years Later (Now) - San Antonio, Texas
Everything important happens on the hottest day of the year. Every significant memory he has is accompanied by the feel of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, his body slick with it beneath leather and chaps, the brim of his Stetson casting a shadow over his face and shielding his eyes from the brutal rays of the sun. The streets would be dry, horse hooves kicking up clouds of dust, women sitting on the old, creaking chairs on their porches, fanning themselves. The greatest amount of water wouldn’t be enough to quench his thirst, his mouth as dry as the dusty roads. He knows that, once the temperature rises to one hundred degrees, he’ll see him again. He looks up at the sun through the barred window of his prison cell and sees that the haze is just strong enough. His time is here. It’s now.
Two years he’s served in prison for robbery. Two years he’s been confined to a cell, and it’s been worth every second for the life he’s lived. Two years served in jail, and yet his life has been so rife with freedom, that this is just a drop in the bucket. And now it’s over. He’s learned patience. He’s learned that he can wait for what he really wants. And what he wants now is to find him, see him again. It’s all he can think about.
He rides at varying speeds, constantly changing direction in case he’s followed. The last thing he wants to do is lead the authorities to Jared and Christian. He can wait a bit longer if he’s already waited two years. He slowly makes his way south, south of the border, into Mexico. He checks Naco, even though he knows they’d be smarter than to take up residence there again.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Of course, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t ride through every now and again.
Jensen turns on his horse at the sound of Christian’s voice, a smile already lighting up his face, and Christian returns the expression, but doesn’t waste time on niceties. They can’t linger here.
“Follow me. We got a long ride.”
It is long, longer than even Jensen expected, but he’s happy that they moved so far out of the way. He wonders if they’ve settled for good, and Christian says that they have, that they’ve been in practically the same spot ever since Jensen turned himself in. They catch up during the stops they have to make, the sun rising and falling with each day, and it’s almost as if they’d never separated. It’s easy, it’s the family Jensen never had back home in Dallas, and any sorrow they felt in previous years is forgotten now that they’ve reunited. He’s happy, smiling and laughing with Christian in ways he hasn’t in years, and he thanks God for this man before him and the one he’s aching to see.
It’s such a long journey that Jensen wonders if he’ll ever get to see Jared again. But when they finally reach Panama, Christian takes him to a house, an honest to God house, and tells him he’ll see him later. He rides off to give Jensen some time, and Jensen leaves his horse outside, tied down, and steps up to the doorway. Jared’s there before he can do anything, be it knock or enter on his own, as if he simply felt his presence there, and the door swings open. They stare at each other for a moment, and Jensen can’t believe what he sees. He swears that Jared is ten times more beautiful than he remembered. He looks good, healthy, happy, if not yearning for something he’s been missing. He steps inside slowly and realizes he’s shaking.
“Jared,” he says, moving closer. Jared’s eyes are wide, shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “I…”
Jared grabs him, pulls him in, desperate to touch him, to kiss him, and for all the waiting he’s done, Jensen’s patience is suddenly nonexistent. He pushes back against Jared, completely unaware of the layout of the house and its furniture, and they tip back onto a couch, Jensen’s tongue sweeping into Jared’s mouth when he gasps. They fumble with each other’s clothing, tearing when things get in the way or get tangled, and they both moan at the feel of their bodies coming together again, hardness against hardness, slick and sweaty.
“Two years,” Jared groans, fingers digging into Jensen’s shoulder blades. “Two fucking years. God, I missed you.”
Jensen reaches a hand down between them, circles it around Jared’s shaft and tugs, so satisfied with the feel and weight of it in his palm and the way Jared whimpers and arches beneath him. He leans down, close to Jared’s ear, and whispers.
“Kocham cię.”
Before he knows it, they’re moving again, to a bed behind closed doors, and he’s sinking deep into Jared’s welcoming heat, two years gone in a flash.
****
“How’d you know when I’d be out?” Jensen asks afterwards, Jared lying in his arms, head on his chest.
“Christian knew,” Jared explains, shifting his weight and rolling into Jensen some more. “He’s done time before. He knew the laws better than I did. Knew that if they didn’t pin any of the shootings on you, they’d keep you about two years. Figured he’d try to time it as best as he could, and hang around in Mexico for a little while, lookin’ for you.”
“That man,” Jensen says, shaking his head and chuckling. “He’s got instincts like a goddamn animal. What have you been doing?” He feels Jared smile against his skin.
“Working on the canal.”
“Working?” Jensen asks, smiling himself. “Actual, honest work?”
“If you can believe it.” Jared props his chin up on Jensen’s chest and looks up at him. “I expect you to join me, you know.”
Jensen sighs, pretending to give it some thought, but he knows he’ll agree to Jared’s plan. After the lives they’ve lead, they may as well settle down, at least for a little while. They’ve lost and paid enough. They’ve enjoyed more years of real freedom than most other men have. He looks at Jared, into those wild hazel eyes that have changed so much over the years, and he thinks this will be good for them. It’s the second time Jared’s given him a new beginning in his life, and this time it’s a new country and a fresh start. And he’s more than happy to take it.
I have flisty things to get caught up on, like fics and comments and such. I will do that!
Also, this happened to me. Be warned!
Title: I Fought The Law
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki
Prompt: 063. Summer.
fanfic100 table: here
Word Count: 22,324
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language and hardcore smexing, both het and slash.
Summary: Jensen Ackles feels trapped in Richardson, Texas, living according to others' expectations and doing his best to abide by the law. He longs for more excitement in his life, and turns to tracking down outlaws, earning himself a badge and a good reputation. But the men he captures seem more alive than he could ever be, and when the infamous Jared makes himself known in Richardson, Jensen makes a decision that changes his life forever.
Disclaimer: Not only do I not even know them, but this is an AU...clearly not trufax.
Author's Notes: tishawyman wanted a historical AU. This is what I've got so far. Jensen's character is based slightly on Burton Alvord. You gotta love Google. And I kind of love Christian Kane.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
1900 - Eleven Years Later - San Antonio, Texas
It wasn’t as if Jeff didn’t know any English words. He just didn’t always know enough to string together a complete sentence, and, mostly for that reason, he preferred speaking in his native tongue. Polish was easy for him, familiar. He would’ve liked to say that it reminded him of simpler times, living at home. But those times hadn’t been simple after Jared was born and their mother had died. No, life hadn’t been simple or easy in those days, and he’d never dream of going back there, where his little brother was hated by his own father for a crime he didn’t commit. If he’d had to relive that moment where he lit out after Jared, he’d make the same choice again and again. He’d take the danger and uncertainty over watching Jared fall to his father’s hand any day.
He’d never thought they’d end up like this, though. It seemed impossible to feel so settled when always on the move, evading the law. But it was something they were used to by now, and they’d almost created a little family of their own out here on the run. Jeff found more comfort with these four men than he ever had with his father, or anyone else back home. But of the three members they’d added to their gang, Jensen was his favorite. He had no trouble admitting it, though Chad had been around longer, and Christian was always nice enough. But Jensen looked out for him the same way Jared did, looked out for Jared the way Jeff used to before his brother had gotten older and quicker. He knew that Jensen was more than a friend to Jared, and while he couldn’t help but wonder what their father would’ve thought of that, he’d never seen his little brother happier. Jensen had changed all of their lives for the better, giving Christian a new job with the gang, helping to keep Chad in line, loving Jared, and quickly becoming Jeff’s best friend, even with the language barrier.
That was why he had to save Jensen. He’d never forget the day that Jensen saved his life. He could still feel the fear, the chill that swept through him when the gun had stared him down. He still flinched when he remembered the sound of the gunshot, so relieved to realize it had been Jensen’s gun that had gone off and not the farmer’s. Now, so many years later, he cursed himself for not being able to help Jensen when the law had first set upon them. They’d split up again, Jared and Christian off on a robbery, while Jensen took him and Chad out to rustle up some more cattle. It had been the wrong place, wrong time, the area already so rife with cattle rustlers that everyone’s eyes were peeled. Jeff not only cursed himself, but cursed Chad. Chad had gotten too carried away, too cocky, and he’d flaunted his speed and agility, purposely riding too close to the men who were after them. Jensen had yelled back to him, told him to cut it out and ride like hell, but Chad hadn’t listened. For all that Jensen kept him in line, Chad still had one hell of a stupid streak, and in the end, it was Jensen who took the fall. Jensen, always the hero, doubling back to get Chad out of a jam and getting himself caught in the process. Jeff had almost done the same for him, but Jensen screamed at them both to get the hell out of there. He knew that Jensen was right. They needed to get away first and come back later, unexpected. But that didn’t mean he felt good about what he’d done, leaving Jensen roped and wrestled to the ground, where no man of his power should be.
That was why Jeff was here, now, San Antonio prison, gun in hand, Chad still in hiding where he belonged. It made him nervous, carrying the weapon around like that, but he’d just do as his brother always did; hold it, wave it around, threaten and shoot, but don’t injure. “Nobody gets hurt.” That was what Jared always said. The gun wasn’t a weapon, but a tool. And at that moment, it was the key to busting Jensen out of jail.
****
Jensen sat back in the corner of his darkened cell, feeling like a caged animal. He stretched his jaw, craned his neck, working out the kinks and feeling out the bruises. For people intent on keeping the peace, the lawmen around here sure had a tendency for unnecessary roughness, at least when it came to the sort of men with Jensen’s reputation. Then again, he guessed he couldn’t blame them, what with being a former lawman himself and running them all ragged. Still, it tore him up to hold back, to resist fighting and giving them a few bruises of his own. He sat and seethed, wondering how long it would be before he could find a way out. He was sure that Jared would come for him if he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and pictured his lover, blowing out a soft sigh, sweat trickling down his neck in the damp heat of the prison.
He never expected it to be Jeff. He never expected to open his eyes and see Jeff bursting into the jailhouse, gun raised, and he shot to his feet, eyes wide and hands clinging to the bars.
“Jeff?!” he called out, through the surprised shouts of the sheriff and deputy, their game of cards rudely interrupted. They were on their feet, and Jensen could see them contemplating going for their own guns. He shifted, suddenly feeling nervous. “Hey, hey, calm down, men,” he said, voice low. “Nobody has to get hurt, here. He’s just a friend of mine, that’s all.”
“Well a friend of yours ain’t a friend of ours,” the sheriff growled, tossing a glare back at him. “We don’t let our prisoners go easy.”
“Nobody gets hurt,” Jeff said suddenly, accent thick, looking to Jensen and nodding, as if agreeing with what he’d said. He turned back to the sheriff and deputy, gun still held high. “Nobody gets hurt,” he repeated, then nodded towards Jensen’s cell. “Jensen.”
“Jeff, you be careful,” Jensen murmured, hoping Jeff understood him. He’d been getting better at that, with Jensen trying to talk to him more and more, English phrases finally making sense to him. His stomach churned, praying that nobody would get hurt, but also hoping that Jeff would have the ability to shoot first if it came down to it.
“Jensen,” Jeff bit out, his voice coming harder as he stepped closer to the men, gun poised and ready. They finally relaxed, giving in, the sheriff grabbing the ring of keys off the wall and trudging over slowly to unlock Jensen’s cell.
“Oh, you crazy son of a bitch,” Jensen breathed, barking out a nervous laugh as he smiled at Jeff. The cell opened, and Jensen took one step out.
One step out, and the sheriff grabbed him by the arm, quickly reaching for his gun, ready to either kill him first or hold him hostage while standing off with Jeff. Jensen flinched at the sound of the first gunshot, swearing he’d heard the bullet fly past him, the sheriff groaning in pain and falling away just before another shot sounded and the deputy hit the ground.
Jensen had no time to register what had happened, looking back just enough to see that the men were merely injured, one shot in the shoulder, the other in the foot, and then Jeff was grabbing him and hauling him out of there, the two of them running for their lives. Jensen wasn’t even thinking, his mind a blur as he blindly followed Jeff to where he’d brought two horses, quickly mounting one and riding away with him into the night.
****
“Fuck, you shot them?!” Chad yelled, pacing around the second floor room of the brothel. “You all hate me for the stupid mistakes I make, and then Jeff goes and shoots people? Do you have any idea what that means for us?”
“Yes,” Christian hissed, the five of them back together again. He grabbed Chad by the shoulders and stopped him in mid-pace. “We do know. It means we’re more hunted than ever now. As if it wouldn’t have happened sooner or later, anyway. Now sit down and shut the fuck up.”
Jared watched the exchange, watched Chad grumble and bow out of the argument, bending to Christian’s will and taking a seat in the closest chair. He watched as Jensen approached Jeff, who stood in the corner with his head bowed, and gently gripped his shoulder, speaking soothing, familiar words.
“Nie martw się.”
All the knots in Jared’s stomach, all the anxiety he’d been riddled with upon returning and hearing what his brother had done, disappeared when he saw the way that Jensen comforted him, speaking his own language to him, Jeff looking up and returning the small smile that Jensen offered him.
“It’ll be alright,” Jared said softly, his eyes still on Jensen. Jensen turned to look at him, and Jared held his gaze, even while talking to the others, his heart swelling in his chest. “It’ll all be alright. We’ll make it through, just like always.” He smiled, repeating Jensen’s words in English. “Don’t worry.”
****
Jared moved even as Jensen laughed and told him to slow down, kissing him hungrily. It scared him, not just losing Jeff, but losing Jensen. None of them had been caught before, and the fact that it had been their strongest member was worrisome. More than that, it was terrifying to think that the two people he loved the most had been in such danger. And Jensen only was because he’d been protecting Chad. Jensen, protecting his men. Jensen, protecting his brother. Jensen caring for him, comforting him, and speaking his native language. He moaned into Jensen’s mouth when the other man relaxed into the bed beneath him, kissing him one more time before breaking apart, panting.
“You,” he murmured, reaching down to cup Jensen through his pants, loving the feel of the hardness beneath them. “What you do for him. For me.”
He’d somehow lost the ability to form sentences, Jensen grunting and pressing his hips up, arching into Jared’s touch. He looked up at him with glazed eyes, reached out and threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling him close and whispering sinfully in his ear.
“Kocham cię.”
Jared shuddered at the words, gasping and quickly moving down Jensen’s body. He didn’t answer him, couldn’t yet, just knew he had to please him, feel him in his mouth. Jensen jerked when Jared wrapped long fingers around his cock, pulling him free of his clothing. He licked at the moisture collecting at the tip, delighted at the sound of Jensen moaning his name, and finally closed his lips around the head, sucking lightly. He cherished the taste of Jensen, the feel of his thick organ stretching his mouth open wide, Jensen’s scent going to his head, making the slight throb in his jaw almost enjoyable as he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head, taking as much of Jensen in as he could. The broken noises escaping Jensen’s throat encouraged him, and he moved faster, harder, his fingers gripping and stroking the length that he couldn’t swallow down, Jensen’s hips lifting just so off of the mattress. He felt Jensen’s tension, his pulse, heard his labored breathing, and took the warmth that flooded his mouth, relishing Jensen’s cry of ecstasy as he swallowed every last drop, the taste lingering on his tongue.
He only answered after Jensen had softened and he’d let him fall from his lips, licking them and crawling back up to kiss him again, Jensen tiredly kissing him back.
“I love you, too.”
****
Running was part of their lives, their jobs. Christian had told him that enough times. But any other time, they would run when they wanted to. They planned their crimes, staged their thefts, pulled light and easy jobs that not enough people cared about, and stayed in places that no one of any level of higher society would dare to venture out to. Their exits were planned. They just couldn’t stay in the same place for too long. That was all.
But Chad couldn’t get behind this. He couldn’t stomach being forced out, running away because of one person’s mistake. They might have been a group, but they each had their own selves to protect, their own feelings of pride, and their own reputations.
But it was more than that. The others all talked about Jeff’s crime as if it were their own. Everything was in a sense of “we.” If it came down to it, they’d all get caught running, and they’d all take the fall for Jeff’s slippery fingers. They were sure to be tracked now, better than before, and what Jeff had done was no laughing matter. What had been a nothing but a fun lifestyle, freedom, booze, and women, was suddenly serious business. And he’d be damned if he was going to go down for someone else’s mistake. It was too much to ask. He could do enough on his own without being led around by the rest of a gang. He could do without the hierarchy. He’d been under it for too long already.
He could save himself.
****
“You don’t think we should leave him behind?”
Jensen looked up at Christian’s harsh tone, the two of them standing out in the morning sun, readying their horses.
“Leave who behind?” he asked.
“Ain’t it obvious?” Christian said, scoffing. “Chad. It’s his fault we’re all in this mess now, isn’t it?”
“That’s not how we work, Christian,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “Chad made a mistake. He may be hard to deal with, but we don’t leave anybody behind. I can handle him. You know the plan?” Christian nodded, but frowned.
“Yeah, can’t say I like it, though. I got a bad feelin’ about his one, and I usually trust my instincts.”
“Well, let’s hope your instincts are wrong, then.”
Jensen turned away from Christian, contemplating his words. They were leaving San Antonio, but that was the best part of their plan. They had to get out now, while they still could. Reputations were one thing, but once your men started shooting people, your head was on the line. Running was part of their job, their lifestyle, but this was different. They were complicating things once they crossed the border of the city, running together and taking their chances on a train robbery, following the K-T tracks east and waiting for their opportunity to strike. The take was irresistible, and with the five of them, it should be easy. But Christian’s hesitance gave Jensen pause, his own stomach twisting with apprehension. The sun beat down on him, and he could feel his clothes sticking to him already, like they always did in the height of summer. And, through the heat, he felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of what could possibly be in store for them.
But he would never admit his fear, and, when the time came, he mounted his horse and rode out with the others, leading them out of San Antonio and into uncertainty.
****
The K-T train was running slow just outside of San Antonio, taking its time to get back up to full speed after stopping at the city’s station. It quickly came to a complete stop when the engineer spotted Jensen and Christian on the tracks just ahead of it, still on their horses. Once stopped, Jensen led his horse off the tracks, heading closer to the train, Christian close behind.
“Jensen.”
Christian’s voice was quiet and flat, carefully toneless, and Jensen slowed his horse to a stop, looking around. His anxiety was back, full-fledged, knowing Christian had spotted something he hadn’t. Jared had already burst from the surrounding trees, horses hidden there, Jeff and Chad in tow, ready to mount the train, and he paused, eyes catching Jensen’s and taking on his fear and confusion.
“What is it?”
“Back to your horses!” Christian suddenly shouted, drawing his gun and moving around Jensen, the sound of his horse’s hooves being drowned out by a team of others. Jensen turned and felt his heart stop in his chest, staring at the group of men heading for them, weapons at the ready. He recognized one as the sheriff that Jeff had shot, shoulder still wrapped as he rode at them awkwardly “Run! Go! Now!”
“They followed us!” Jensen shouted in disbelief, wondering how the he could’ve let this happen. Nobody was ever able to track them before. How the hell had he missed this?
Jared had heard his words, followed his gaze, and grabbed Jeff, running back for the trees and their horses. He pushed Jeff ahead of him, and Jensen could hear his frantic shouts at Jeff to go, get back to safety. Jensen rode after them, he and Christian doing their damnedest to block them as their pursuers came closer. Jensen stopped his horse and turned to look back when he realized they were missing one.
“Chad!” he yelled, and he heard the sound of Christian halting and turning, too, readying himself to go back for him.
And Chad was still standing by the train, far away, watching the men who were coming for them. Chad was standing there, keeping away, and waiting. He was calm and patient in the midst of their storm, and that was when it hit Jensen. Chad had done this. He’d given away their plan. He’d given them away.
“No,” Jensen muttered, fear striking through him. “NO!”
He turned around, catching sight of the band of men closer to them now, the wounded sheriff leading the way, gun drawn and aimed. He drew his own gun, trying to move as quickly as possible, but he was too late. He fired off a shot to disarm the sheriff, but only after the sheriff had pulled his own trigger.
Jensen turned until his eyes found Jared and Jeff, his head feeling as though it was turning in slow motion. Jeff was still running ahead, almost there, so close to the trees and the horses. He was so close.
And then he fell, jarred by the bullet that hit him.
The world was muted, Jensen barely hearing the agonizing scream that tore from Jared’s throat as his brother hit the ground. He sat dumbly on his horse, feeling as if he’d somehow wandered into a nightmare, where everything had just been ripped out from under him, watching Jared drop to his knees beside Jeff. He couldn’t even move when Jared rose back up, tears already streaking down his face, gun pointed towards the sheriff, firing off shots that were muffled to Jensen’s suddenly deaf ears.
It was a shot that fired behind him that brought him back to reality, and Jensen turned to see Christian’s gun smoking, his eyes hard and furious. Back by the train, Chad lay dead on the ground.
The scene had changed so drastically in a matter of seconds, from calm, quiet, and planned, to chaotic, bodies strewn on the ground. The sheriff had been shot right off his horse, unmoving on the ground, two other men taken down with him. Jared’s look was crazed and distressed, so suddenly pushed to the edge of his sanity.
“Get on your horse!” Christian commanded, and, for once, Jensen was happy to have the lead taken away from him. He’d never been so helpless, so unable to function. Jared ignored the call, poised to keep shooting at the remaining band of five men charging at them, and Christian moved his horse in front of him and reared it up on its hind legs. “Let’s GO!”
****
It was a mess, getting Jensen and Jared out of there, especially having to leave Jeff’s body behind. But Christian managed it, unwilling to let them stand there and die. He’d never run in a gang like this for this long, and he’d come to care for these men more than he’d thought was possible. But from the moment he’d spoken to Jensen from inside his cell, he’d made a friendship that he’d be damned to let break, and Jared was too good of a man to leave behind. He pushed Jeff’s death out of his mind for now. It was too much for him to deal with. Somewhere deep inside, he knew how much it hurt him, but he couldn’t afford to acknowledge it now, or he’d be just as lost as the others. They still needed to survive.
If he thought about it, it even stung a little that he’d killed Chad. The bastard may have deserved it for what he’d done to them, but Christian still couldn’t help but yearn for the old days, over a decade ago, when Chad was only a moody little prick who was still fun to drink with and times were simple, even for them. He guessed that lives like theirs couldn’t stay that way forever, but he wished that they had; that things had never changed. He’d never made a habit of being the dangerous type, hurting and killing people, and he didn’t want to start now.
He wasn’t sure how the three of them had made it out of there alive, or, if he was honest with himself, how he’d even managed to get Jared back on his horse. He was surprised the man had even listened to him, turning his tear-stained face to Jensen before finally mounting and riding off. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to lead the leaders, but there he was, changing direction, managing to evade their pursuers and head south, towards Mexico. He didn’t know how Jensen or Jared would feel about crossing the border, but he thought it’d be best to at least stick close to it, at this point. He doubted they’d make it over any of the state borders in one piece.
They rode in silence, and when he finally made them stop, it was away from any cities or towns, among rocks and trees, a small creek rushing by, and he set about finding wood for a fire while the others climbed down off of their horses. When he returned, he found Jared sitting on the ground, staring into nothingness, Jensen beside him with his arm around him and his head on his shoulder. He paused, something in his chest finally breaking, and suddenly found himself fighting off tears. He opened his mouth, attempting to find words of any kind that would soothe the three of them, but could think of none. He was better off not saying anything.
****
Jensen was hesitant to sit down next to Jared, to comfort him in any way. Guilt choked him from the inside, the grief he felt indescribable, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Jared thought of him now. He’d never felt anything like this. He thought back to when his father was shot and killed and the relief that had come with it. What he felt after losing Jeff was torture, pain shredding his insides, and he prayed that it would stop, but he knew it wouldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jeff falling and felt his heart drop all over again. It never should have happened. He never should have let it. All he wanted was to have that time back. All he wanted was to save Jeff and have him there, with them, sitting by Jared’s side, smiling in their light conversations that would be half English, half Polish. Without even thinking about it, the language came to mind, the second nature it had become after so many years of speaking with Jeff.
“Przepraszam.”
“Don’t,” Jared said, the word solid and flat, and Jensen stiffened, saw Christian freeze out of the corner of his eye, pile of wood in his hands. “Don’t say it like that.”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispered, both apologizing for his mistake and repeating the Polish phrase in English. He felt the bite of Jared’s words, but understood it. The language was too close to Jeff, and everything he’d just lost. “I’m sorry for everything. It’s my fault.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Christian said quietly, and Jensen lifted his head to look at the man, surprised to find a sorrow matching his in his tone and expression. He let his shoulders slump forward, looking at Christian apologetically.
“You warned me,” he said, hating himself more with each word that left his mouth. “You told me you didn’t like this plan. Hell, you told me about Chad. I didn’t listen. And then I wasn’t fast enough. I should’ve known better.”
“My brother just died,” Jared cut in suddenly, his tone cold and laced with venom. His eyes were still staring straight ahead, his body going tense beneath Jensen’s arm. “We left his body on the ground for them to take away and make an example of. Can we have a fucking moment of silence, please?” Jensen lowered his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I’m so-”
“Don’t apologize!” Jared spat, shrugging Jensen off and standing up. “Just stop fucking talking.”
His voice broke on that last word, and he walked off towards the sounds of the nearby stream. Christian dropped the wood he was carrying and sat down next to Jensen, sighing.
“He’s gonna need some time,” Christian said, his voice strangely hoarse. He sniffed before continuing. “We all will. I’m not sayin’ anybody deserves this kinda thing, but someone like Jeff, just…It shouldn’t happen.”
“You know, I’d like to blame Chad for this?” Jensen said, struggling to get the words out through the tightening in his chest, tears slipping slowly down his face. “But I can’t. Yeah, what he did was wrong, but…I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve known. I’m not s’posed to make mistakes like this.” Jensen looked down at his hands, and Christian sighed again.
“I think maybe you expect too much of yourself,” he said. “I think maybe we do. We all make mistakes, Jensen. You’re no different. Hell, in a perfect world, we wouldn’t even be doin’ this shit. Everyone’d be happy, and nobody’d get hurt. But this? This is just…life.”
“And death,” Jensen said, feeling hollow inside. He couldn’t bring himself to find comfort in Christian’s words; not yet. “You said before that this life was excitin’. Said it was worth all the pain, and even gettin’ caught. Well, let me ask you this: Was this worth it?”
“Dammit, Jensen!” Christian cursed, a quiet sob escaping his throat. He wiped at his eyes, settling more into the dirt. “I’m just tryin’…” He thought for a moment, and then spoke again. “Yeah. Yeah, this was worth it. This life was worth it, because we got to know Jeff. And you wouldn’t be sittin’ here cryin’ over him like this if you didn’t know that was true.”
****
Jared stood by the creek, watching the water roll by. He concentrated on his breathing: in and out, in and out. He found himself in a trance, floating between time and space. His breathing faltered when he heard footsteps behind him, the presence of another being breaking his concentration. He knew it was Jensen, and he felt his muscles tense, anger surging through him for no apparent reason, his emotions running wild in the moments that he wasn’t allowing himself to drift away from reality. He felt Jensen stepping closer, flinched at the arms that circled his waist from behind.
“I’m sorry.”
His anger flared at those words, words he didn’t want to hear, though he couldn’t really explain why. He just hated them, hated the tone that accompanied them, the thought, and what it all meant. He’d never been filled with so much rage before, and he spun around in Jensen’s grasp, forcefully shoving him away, hands balled into fists.
“Fuck you!” he screamed, and he moved closer, shoving at Jensen again, the lack of response pushing him even further. He raised his fist, moving to strike Jensen, but the blow somehow softened when it hit the other man’s chest, Jared’s body slowly losing its strength as he tried again with the opposite fist, landing too softly to do any damage. And then he was crumbling, falling apart, an enraged shout followed by a sob wrenching its way up from his chest. Jensen caught him when he fell forward, and he finally gave in, let himself find comfort in Jensen’s arms, let himself cry on his shoulder.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he moved again, only that night was falling, the world growing darker around them. He lifted his head, met Jensen’s eyes, found his lips with his own, needing that solace, that connection. Jensen kissed him back, soft, gentle, just what they both needed to ground themselves. He let his head fall to Jensen’s shoulder again when they parted, hands clinging to Jensen’s sides, pulling at his clothing, desperate to keep hold of him while dark and ugly thoughts swirled inside his head.
“I killed people,” he whispered, almost afraid to say the words aloud and suddenly aware that he was shaking. “Three of them. I’ve never…”
“It’s okay,” Jensen soothed, hands rubbing at his back, and Jared clung to him tighter, loving him so much more for saying it and meaning it. Because he knew just how not okay it was, and how it felt. “It’s okay.”
****
“I think we should be gettin’ on,” Christian said early the next morning, never questioning the fact that Jared and Jensen had spent the night elsewhere, away from the warmth of the fire. “They’re gonna be lookin’ for us.”
Jensen nodded wordlessly, looking to Jared, who remained silent while readying his horse. He thought about the night before, how they’d laid each other down and moved against each other desperately, longing to feel something, anything other than the sorrow and guilt they were burdened with. He remembered moving inside of Jared slowly, trying to make those moments last with long, drawn out kisses, and how all he could taste was the salt of Jared’s tears. But they did crave each other, did give each other something to hold onto, a reason to keep going.
It was hard to let that feeling stretch out into the next day, when you woke up to the harsh reality of losing someone so close to you carving your heart into pieces all over again.
“You okay?” Jensen asked quietly, moving to stand next to Jared. Jared shook his head.
“Of course I’m not okay,” he said, not unkindly. He rested his head against his horse, closing his eyes and sighing, and Jensen rubbed a hand over his back. “I just feel so…weak. It’s like I just failed him, and now…” He trailed off, shrugging, his voice dropping lower. “I’m just weak. Almost don’t even wanna run anymore.”
“You’d get caught.”
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t care.”
Christian cleared his throat, walking towards them, giving a bit of an apologetic smile for interrupting them.
“You ready to go?”
1903 - Three Years Later - Del Rio, Texas
They all knew it would eventually come to this. They’d hugged the Mexican border for a few years now, each one of them surprised they’d managed to last so long on the Texas side of the Rio Grande. They’d made their way back up, northwest, always sticking close to what they’d deemed their salvation, should they ever be tracked down again. They’d looted and robbed along the way, keeping low and alive, staying wherever they could. But it would have to end sometime.
Jared knew it was over when he looked out the window of the nearest brothel and saw a group of lawmen outside, checking over their horses and asking questions. They could’ve been looking for anyone, but Jared’s instincts kicked into high gear. They had to make a run for it.
They did. The gracious women of Del Rio were kind enough to take the attentions of the man away from their horses, and Jared, Jensen, and Christian quickly mounted and took off. Jared had never been much of the praying type. But as he rode ahead of the others, he prayed like hell that he wouldn’t have to experience the same loss he had when they’d run three years before. He constantly looked behind him, keeping as much of an eye on Christian as he did Jensen. Both men were instrumental in keeping him alive after his brother died. Christian’s role had been less noticeable to him before he finally found his way out from the fog of shock and despair.
Jensen was his emotional rock, though the other man didn’t keep his own feelings about Jeff’s death a secret. But that helped him more than anything else. Jensen was his lover, his everything, his sole reason for not giving up. He’d leaned on Jensen in the past three years more than he’d ever leaned on anybody in his entire life. And while he was busy grieving and giving Jensen his heart, Christian was always there in the background, making plans, leading them without Jared ever even realizing it. Christian kept them going, kept them moving, fed and healthy. He owed his life to both of them, and while he hadn’t forgotten how distressing it was to realize that he’d actually killed another human being, he made the disturbing realization that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anybody who hurt the remaining members of his gang. He needed them.
Thankfully, they managed to cross the river without incident, their head start leaving the law too far behind for their shots to really mean anything. They crossed the border and kept riding, stopping only when they passed through a bustling town, satisfied that they were safe.
“Those guys were Texas Rangers,” Christian said as soon as he dismounted, Jared taking a minute to catch on to what he was saying. “We’re in trouble.”
“You’re saying they’ll follow us here?” Jensen asked, shooting a worried glance at Jared.
“I’m sayin’ we better stay hidden,” Christian answered. “This sure ain’t over yet.”
****
They traveled, stayed hidden, kept moving. It was harder to spot a moving target, after all. They moved for a year, and Jared was suffering from his paranoia, barely sleeping. When he did sleep, he’d wrap himself around Jensen so tightly that he’d almost suffocate him. He was terrified; terrified that they’d gone too far, things had gotten too out of control, and that they’d never be able to escape. He was terrified that someone else close to him would die.
Every day, it was all he thought about, and even when Jensen managed to get a smile or laugh out of him, it faded quickly. His fears plagued him, and after a year, those fears moved far too close to the truth.
1904 - One Year Later - Naco, Sonora, Mexico
They were running, this time on foot, and Jensen knew that they would never make it. The Rangers had followed them, trapped them here in Naco on their horses. He could already hear the gunfire, but he didn’t dare look for it, just shouted at Jared and Christian to keep running. Ducking behind a building with the others, hooves and gunshots drowned out all other noises.
“We’ll never make it!” Christian said, shouting to be heard, his eyes wide in fear, but somewhat resigned to his fate. Jensen looked to Jared and saw both fear and anger there, murder to anyone who tried to hurt them. Sweat trickled down his neck as he struggled to catch his breath in the heat and humidity of Mexico, the sun burning his skin.
He looked at Jared and saw everything that had ever made his life worth living, even for this. Christian had been right before. This life was worth it. All of it was worth it. If he’d never had this, if he’d never known Christian, Jeff, or Jared, he’d be empty, hollow. Nothing could ever compare to this experience. His life had been a true journey thus far, and he had these men to thank. He had these men to save.
“You can!” he shouted, watching the realization dawn in Christian’s eyes, able to see Jared shaking his head out of the corner of his eye already. “You can make it if I distract them! If I turn myself in!”
“NO!” Jared yelled, and Jensen could still hear the growl in his voice, the emotion and frustration, eyes already appearing wet as he gripped at Jensen’s shirt. “No, you son of a bitch, you are not leaving me! You know what they’ll do to you!”
“They won’t!” Jensen said, shaking his head, even though he wasn’t so sure of the consequences himself. “I haven’t hurt anyone! You two…They’ll have your heads! You’ve killed people!” Christian looked away, and the tears pooling in Jared’s eyes began to slip down his cheeks. Jensen felt his heart break, but continued anyway, knowing he had to do this. “They’ll hold me, but not forever! Get the hell outta here and stay safe! I’ll find you!” He turned and looked deep into Jared’s eyes, swallowing roughly. “I’ll find you.”
Jared wanted to protest with every fiber of his being, but Jensen held him with his stare, told him without speaking that everything would be alright. Then he uttered familiar words that he felt he hadn’t heard in a lifetime.
“Nie martw się.”
Jared surged forward, gripping his shirt and pulling him into a bruising kiss, pouring all of his emotion into that one moment. Jensen wound his fingers in Jared’s hair, held him close even after their lips parted, Jared dropping his head into his shoulder and breathing in deeply.
“It’ll be alright,” Jensen said. “You have to go. It’s the only way this’ll work. Go, now.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Jared said, sniffling as he straightened back up, giving him one last look before turning away. Christian stepped into view and Jensen smiled as he pulled him into a hug.
“I owe you, man. I’ll see you soon.”
“You owe me for what?” Christian asked, pulling away looking up at him. Jensen’s smile just grew wider.
“Everything.” He nodded towards Jared’s retreating form, aware of the Rangers moving in closer, satisfied that they weren’t going to be shooting back at them any time soon. “Take care of him for me.”
1906 - Two Years Later (Now) - San Antonio, Texas
Everything important happens on the hottest day of the year. Every significant memory he has is accompanied by the feel of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, his body slick with it beneath leather and chaps, the brim of his Stetson casting a shadow over his face and shielding his eyes from the brutal rays of the sun. The streets would be dry, horse hooves kicking up clouds of dust, women sitting on the old, creaking chairs on their porches, fanning themselves. The greatest amount of water wouldn’t be enough to quench his thirst, his mouth as dry as the dusty roads. He knows that, once the temperature rises to one hundred degrees, he’ll see him again. He looks up at the sun through the barred window of his prison cell and sees that the haze is just strong enough. His time is here. It’s now.
Two years he’s served in prison for robbery. Two years he’s been confined to a cell, and it’s been worth every second for the life he’s lived. Two years served in jail, and yet his life has been so rife with freedom, that this is just a drop in the bucket. And now it’s over. He’s learned patience. He’s learned that he can wait for what he really wants. And what he wants now is to find him, see him again. It’s all he can think about.
He rides at varying speeds, constantly changing direction in case he’s followed. The last thing he wants to do is lead the authorities to Jared and Christian. He can wait a bit longer if he’s already waited two years. He slowly makes his way south, south of the border, into Mexico. He checks Naco, even though he knows they’d be smarter than to take up residence there again.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Of course, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t ride through every now and again.
Jensen turns on his horse at the sound of Christian’s voice, a smile already lighting up his face, and Christian returns the expression, but doesn’t waste time on niceties. They can’t linger here.
“Follow me. We got a long ride.”
It is long, longer than even Jensen expected, but he’s happy that they moved so far out of the way. He wonders if they’ve settled for good, and Christian says that they have, that they’ve been in practically the same spot ever since Jensen turned himself in. They catch up during the stops they have to make, the sun rising and falling with each day, and it’s almost as if they’d never separated. It’s easy, it’s the family Jensen never had back home in Dallas, and any sorrow they felt in previous years is forgotten now that they’ve reunited. He’s happy, smiling and laughing with Christian in ways he hasn’t in years, and he thanks God for this man before him and the one he’s aching to see.
It’s such a long journey that Jensen wonders if he’ll ever get to see Jared again. But when they finally reach Panama, Christian takes him to a house, an honest to God house, and tells him he’ll see him later. He rides off to give Jensen some time, and Jensen leaves his horse outside, tied down, and steps up to the doorway. Jared’s there before he can do anything, be it knock or enter on his own, as if he simply felt his presence there, and the door swings open. They stare at each other for a moment, and Jensen can’t believe what he sees. He swears that Jared is ten times more beautiful than he remembered. He looks good, healthy, happy, if not yearning for something he’s been missing. He steps inside slowly and realizes he’s shaking.
“Jared,” he says, moving closer. Jared’s eyes are wide, shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “I…”
Jared grabs him, pulls him in, desperate to touch him, to kiss him, and for all the waiting he’s done, Jensen’s patience is suddenly nonexistent. He pushes back against Jared, completely unaware of the layout of the house and its furniture, and they tip back onto a couch, Jensen’s tongue sweeping into Jared’s mouth when he gasps. They fumble with each other’s clothing, tearing when things get in the way or get tangled, and they both moan at the feel of their bodies coming together again, hardness against hardness, slick and sweaty.
“Two years,” Jared groans, fingers digging into Jensen’s shoulder blades. “Two fucking years. God, I missed you.”
Jensen reaches a hand down between them, circles it around Jared’s shaft and tugs, so satisfied with the feel and weight of it in his palm and the way Jared whimpers and arches beneath him. He leans down, close to Jared’s ear, and whispers.
“Kocham cię.”
Before he knows it, they’re moving again, to a bed behind closed doors, and he’s sinking deep into Jared’s welcoming heat, two years gone in a flash.
****
“How’d you know when I’d be out?” Jensen asks afterwards, Jared lying in his arms, head on his chest.
“Christian knew,” Jared explains, shifting his weight and rolling into Jensen some more. “He’s done time before. He knew the laws better than I did. Knew that if they didn’t pin any of the shootings on you, they’d keep you about two years. Figured he’d try to time it as best as he could, and hang around in Mexico for a little while, lookin’ for you.”
“That man,” Jensen says, shaking his head and chuckling. “He’s got instincts like a goddamn animal. What have you been doing?” He feels Jared smile against his skin.
“Working on the canal.”
“Working?” Jensen asks, smiling himself. “Actual, honest work?”
“If you can believe it.” Jared props his chin up on Jensen’s chest and looks up at him. “I expect you to join me, you know.”
Jensen sighs, pretending to give it some thought, but he knows he’ll agree to Jared’s plan. After the lives they’ve lead, they may as well settle down, at least for a little while. They’ve lost and paid enough. They’ve enjoyed more years of real freedom than most other men have. He looks at Jared, into those wild hazel eyes that have changed so much over the years, and he thinks this will be good for them. It’s the second time Jared’s given him a new beginning in his life, and this time it’s a new country and a fresh start. And he’s more than happy to take it.