SOS Red- Chapter Two

[wastetheyears]

Shock.

Jensen knows this feeling well, the claw of dread slicing heavily through his stomach. The feeling animates itself through shallow breathing, through crushing chest constriction and pounding heartbeats. It shakes through him in jitters, anxiety pulsing his through his veins, bubbling to the surface in quick, one-off shivers, gone as quickly as they arrived. It’s the numbness in his limbs, in his mind, doubt-fogged as it keeps stumbling over one singular question, reframing it as many ways as it can to try to make sense of it.

Jared is alive? How can he be?

It’s impossible. Jensen knows this, knows it to his core, knows it from the way he became acquainted with this feeling in the first place. He learned it from a stretch of sunbaked asphalt, from screams that turned to wails, from a nightmare that turned to reality. It’s that feeling of bracing for impact, of trying to make sense of that impact once it rips through your life. Jensen knows this feeling, this feeling of shock, because he lost Jared that day, on that perfect, sunny day, simple as that. Life ruining as that.

He moves mechanically throughout the police department as Chief Wallace leads him through the crowds of people, cutting a swath on instinct alone. Everything feels surreal, like he isn’t here at all, like he’s a thousand miles away and watching himself moving through a blurred video reel. His senses are fading in and out, his brain only able to process them in pieces, and even then not fully understanding. The room is loud, a cacophony of conversations he can’t even begin to distinguish, and while he’s aware the chief is speaking to him, the words don’t process as anything with meaning.

When they finally reach a narrow hallway, the noise dims and Jensen feels his body adjust to an equilibrium, his vision going blurry for a moment before honing back into his surroundings. The hall is cold, white walls and tiled floors, but he breathes a quick sigh of relief when he sees it’s empty.

“Jensen?” Chief Wallace asks, and he looks to her, the concerned look on her face telling him this isn’t the first time she has said his name.

“Yeah. Yes,” he manages, channeling all his focus onto the woman before him.

She gestures at some chairs, set by a big table in front of a blinds-drawn window. “Sit. I will get Megan.” Bobbling his head, Jensen steps towards the chairs, fingertips skimming along the cool metal of the folding chair. He stares at the table, at the chunks missing from the finish and swirls of wood grain, but doesn’t make any move to sit down.

“Jensen!” He spins at his name just in time to catch an armful of Jared’s little sister, a flailing embrace of long hair and even longer arms. She hugs him, like she has many times these last few years, and Jensen screws his eyes shut at the thought, at the memories with which those hugs are associated. He can’t go there, can’t focus on anything but this moment, not when he already feels a hairline trigger away from falling apart.

“Hey,” he whispers, any power he had for speaking lost in the moment. It’s so good to see her, to see someone he knows, that he can’t do much else but lean into the embrace, holding her tight.

“Hi,” she inhales, pulling back to meet his eyes. Her own are wet with tears, but she looks happy, and Jensen tries not to let himself read too much into what that means. “How are you doing?”

“Um,” he laughs, a breathy and humorless sound, edged with a bit of hysteria. “Not well?”

Megan frowns, empathy etched into every inch of her face. “Jesus, I know. This is insane, huh?”

“Insane? Megs, this is crazy. I don’t even-”

“I know. When they told me, I. I don’t even know. I lost it,” Megan mumbles, dragging her palms over her face. “I was yelling, telling them they were wrong, that they were sick bastards for thinking this was some stupid joke. I was so mad.” And maybe on paper that doesn’t track for the National Merit Scholar, Dean’s List student, but knowing Megan, yeah, Jensen can see it. She always has been a little hot tempered, fire-passionate about what she loves, just like Jared, and-
Jared.

“Have you seen him?” Jensen asks, voice small, barely over a whisper. It’s the question he has been avoiding, but it’s the only answer he wants to know. Because if she says no, if she says all this is a lie, Jensen can’t even imagine the fallout. But if she says yes… if she says yes. Well, he isn’t really sure where that leaves him either, can’t even wrap his mind around it.

“Yeah,” she breathes, wonder playing at her features like she’s still amazed at the thought. “I have.”

The words hit Jensen like a punch, the air forced from his lungs at their impact. It’s the only answer he’d been prepared to accept, but, still, hearing them aloud is such a mindfuck that Jensen’s brain keeps tripping over the words, trying desperately to process them in any way other than what they are. Meg has seen him, Jensen thinks, the words foreign and oddly shaped. Megan has seen Jared.

“It’s true, Jen. I didn’t believe it either. I mean how could…” she trails off, voice breaking as she looks away to regain composure. “How could this be true, you know? It’s crazy. But I’ve seen him. I’ve talked to him. I’ve spent the last hour with him, and it’s him, Jensen. It’s Jared.”

Eyes flooding hot with tears, Jensen shakes his head. “That’s… that’s not. That’s impossible.”

Megan looks wrecked, her hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. “I know. And I’m sorry, Jen, I can’t imagine what this must be like for you, what all of this has been like for you. But I wouldn’t lie about this, you know I wouldn’t. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it’s him. It is.”

“I can’t,” he shakes his head, though there’s no real intention behind the sentiment. They’re dead in the air, meaningless words that just fall off the tip of his tongue.

“You don’t have to do this today,” Megan says gently, her hand moving to rest on his forearm. “It’s okay. If you need some time; no one would blame you. Everyone would understand.”

Jensen furrows his brow, confused now. He’s here. Painfully, one hundred percent, absolutely here. There is no universe in which he is not doing this right now.

“Understand what?”

“If you can’t see him today,” Megan clarifies, her voice soft as if she’s coaxing a wounded animal. “It doesn’t have to be today.”

See him. Today. Jensen’s heart churns up into his throat at the thought, at the impossibility of it. Seeing Jared today.

“I’m not,” Jensen starts, words forming slowly in his mouth like the synapses in his brain aren’t firing out the orders fast enough. Everything feels in halftime, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “I’m not saying I don’t want to see him.”

“It’s a lot to process-”

“Megs,” he croaks, his voice strangled with the conviction now growing in his chest. “I have to see him. I can’t… if he’s here, if he’s really here, there’s no way I can’t see him.” There isn’t. For three years, he has been hoping for this, been crying for this, been praying for this, to, in some impossible way, get Jared back, to see him even one last time. If this is real, if Jensen isn’t locked in a padded room somewhere, hallucinating all of this, he isn’t blowing his chance. Hell, even if none of this is real, he still isn’t blowing his chance.

Relief flashes on Megan’s face, so quick Jensen almost misses it. “You can. You can see him.” She smiles at Jensen, gesturing to the chairs they are standing by.

“Sit.”

“I don’t want to sit. I want to see him.”

“I know, but this is better. This is what my mom and I did,” she coaxes, giving him a pleading look. “Please?” Jensen eyes her suspiciously but, never able to tell Jared’s sister “no”, he begrudgingly pulls the chair out and sits. Satisfied, Megan takes a seat beside him.

“He’s in this room,” Megan says, pointing at the window positioned in front of their table. Jensen’s heart constricts, eyes snapping to the drawn blinds before them. He’s that close? Feet away? “My mom and I did this, just looked in at him for a few minutes. It helped to do that before we saw him. I think just seeing him without anything first would have been hard.”

“So, what? Just peep in on him for a few minutes, without him knowing?” Jensen asks, nerves bubbling to the surface because they’re talking about Jared, his dead fiancé. Alive on the other side of this window. And he’s, what? Just supposed to peek in at him, like that will be enough? Like every cell in his body isn’t screaming for him to just run in there, launch himself at him and never let go?

Megan chuckles. “I know it sounds weird weird, but it helped. Seriously. I think if I just saw him for the first time when I had interacted him, I would have lost it. I mean, I did anyway, but seeing him first? Knowing he was alive and what to expect? That really helped. I wanted to see him, but it was like I was glued in place, you know? Like I couldn’t make myself move. I wanted to, but I was scared of what was in the room.”

Jensen closes his eyes, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah you’re probably right.” Jensen knows she’s right, actually. Because as much as he just wants to barge into that room right now, he’s also terrified. Nothing in his life has ever prepared him for the possibility of Jared coming back, and even if a thousand people were to tell him Jared is alive, Jensen knows he’ll never truly believe it until he sees it with his own eyes.
And seeing Jared with his own eyes for the first time a couple feet away, able to touch him, to smell him, to hold him? The thought seems almost too overwhelming to bear.

“I’ll open the blinds a bit if you’re ready,” Megan offers, reaching for the turning rod for the old, time-yellowed blinds covering the large window before them.

“Won’t he notice?”

Megan levels him a patient look. “Jensen. You know Jared. He is about as perceptive as a bat.” Jensen’s thought immediately drifts to how Jared, who always knew an unhealthy amount about animals, would probably chime in correcting his sister about the all weird ways in which bats actually are incredibly perceptive if he heard her say that, but then it hits him.

Jared is perceptive. Jared is in that room. Jared is, present tense, is. Jared hasn’t been present tense in years, and Jensen is once again rendered breathless. He’s about to see Jared; Jared who is here.

“Do it,” he manages, leaning forward and bracing himself with his elbows on the table. He’s acutely aware of Megan watching him, but his entire focus is on the window before him, watching as the blinds tilt a bit and then a bit more, bringing in a view of the room inside. Jensen’s eyes dart around the room, seeing just gray concrete and white walls before settling on the two figures seated at the table.

He sees Sherrie first, Jared’s mom leaning forward across the table with a light about her Jensen hasn’t seen in so long. He drags his gaze across the table, heart stopping as he sees him, eyes processing him inch by inch.

The hands, folded together and tanned. Even from this distance Jensen can see the glint of his engagement ring, the band Jensen had saved up for over the span of several months and presented with a full, bursting heart after Jared had proposed. His arms are still thickly muscled, sense memory triggered from the evenings he would wrap them around Jensen from behind when he was cooking and the nights when they snuggled in bed. He’s wearing a scrub top, this much unfamiliar, but his hair is still long, chestnut, and shiny in the dull light of the interrogation room. And that face. God, that face.

It’s Jared. It’s the fox-slanted eyes, crinkled with a smile, the lopsided grin twisting at Jensen’s heartstrings as it pounds uncontrollably in his chest. It’s the angle of his nose and the crook of his tooth, just slightly out of line with the rest of them. It’s the dimples, the indention Jensen knows fits his fingertip perfectly, from the countless times he was unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching them when Jared couldn’t stop smiling, and, as a result, Jensen couldn’t either.

It’s Jared, and it’s sunshine, warming a landscape that has been shaded for far too long. It’s years-long tension finally draining from the muscles of Jensen’s body, the age-refined tightness in his muscles finally revealing itself to be simply grief-coiled, the heartbreak finally giving way to hope. Jensen’s entire body is pulsing with emotion, with grief, with disbelief, with hope, with elation.

There’s a detachment, being this far away, like he’s watching a TV show play out from the distance of film and time, but he keeps reminding himself that this is real time, this is now. It’s only a pane of glass that separates them, that and about fifteen feet. Reaching out, Jensen’s fingertips touch the cool glass of the window, grounding him to the scene. This is here. This is now. This is real.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Megan murmurs beside him, her voice paper-thin and gentle, that sense of awe from earlier still just beneath the surface. Jensen can only nod his head, watching with fascination as Jared moves before him, talking to Sherrie and moving his hands to illustrate his point. He always has talked with his hands.

Part of him expected to be afraid by the sight of Jared, with all the uncertainty of how and why this is all possible. In the back of his mind, there were silent questions of it would actually be Jared or some imitator, the lame zombie movies Jared always used to make him watch playing at his insecurities. But in seeing him, watching him like this, Jensen only feels resolution, an absolute calm and comfort that this Jared. He’d know Jared from anywhere, still knows him better than anyone, even after all this time, and there are no feelings of doubt when he peers in at him now. Only certainty.

He watches in fascination for minutes, losing track of time in the angle of Jared’s smile, relearning all the familiar expressions that have been slipping like the sands of time through his fingers. He curses himself for ever forgetting the exact crinkle of Jared’s nose when he smiles, or the way his hair falls in his face when he ducks his head. It’s all so important, so precious, and Jensen resolves to catalogue each moment again, to worship each change of expression with everything he has.

It’s the laugh that snaps him out of it. A clear, crisp laugh that just barely drifts from the closed door, but the sound is so unexpected it jolts Jensen upright, eyes wide and wild as they meet Megan’s. Seeing Jared was one thing, but hearing him? That’s quite another, and it ignites a new need within him. Suddenly just seeing him isn’t enough. He needs to be with him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Megan soothes, hand finding its way to his bicep to comfort him.

“No,” he shakes his head, making to stand. “No. I need to see him.”

The young woman motions for him to sit, standing herself. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Jensen grits through his teeth, his patience gone. “Meg, I have to-”

“Okay, okay,” she concedes, moving towards the door. “Give me a second, okay? You can see him, just sit tight.” It’s against all Jensen’s instincts not to get to his feet and brush past her into that room, but he humors her, instead turning his attention back to the room.

Through one of the slots he watches as Sherrie and Jared both snap their attention to the door, where Megan stands, telling them Jensen is here and ready to see Jared. Sherrie nods, gathering her stuff, while Jared immediately jumps to his feet, fidgeting nervously. He messes with his hair, smoothing it down, and fusses with his clothes, running his hands over the wrinkles in the light blue scrubs. He’s trying to make himself look nice, Jensen thinks, heart swelling in his chest, as if

Jared could ever not look perfect. It only makes him love him that much more.

When Sherrie emerges from the room, Jensen forces himself to tear his eyes away from Jared, standing to be pulled into a hug.

“Oh honey,” she says, her voice muffled in his chest. “It’s a miracle, isn’t it?”

Jensen nods. “Yeah.”  Before today he would have scoffed at the idea of calling anything a miracle, the idea of anything good happening so foreign in Jensen’s life that he couldn’t imagine anything fitting the term. He still isn’t sure what to call this, exactly, but knows Jared’s mother is a religious woman, and he doesn’t have an ounce of argument in his body.

“He’s been asking about you, every chance he gets,” Sherrie beams, pulling away and holding him with a hand at each shoulder.

“Yeah?” Jensen asks thickly, the lump in his throat returning with a vengeance.

“Oh yeah,” Megan chimes in bumping his hip lightly. “Won’t shut up about you.” He nods numbly at the information. Fuck, Jared would. Jared would ask, and that makes it feel all the more real, his brain straining to process that this is real again now that his eyes aren’t on Jared. He’s getting fidgety, anxiety growing in him with the fear that Jared may disappear now that he isn’t within range of sight. He needs to see him, needs to quell this separation anxiety that is threatening to tear him apart.

He gestures at the door behind Jared’s family, barely managing the words, “I need to-”

“Okay,” Sherrie smiles, giving his shoulder one more squeeze before stepping aside. “Okay, honey.”

“Are you okay to go in alone?”

Jensen smiles at Megan, hoping it’s more convincing than what he feels inside. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” She chews her lip, looking concerned, but nods as he walks to the door, stalling for a moment in the threshold in front of the mostly closed door. Eyes shutting tightly, he coaches himself to take several deep breathes, grounding himself to the moment. Then, hand shaky, he reaches for the knob, pulls the door open, and takes a blind step inside.

For all that Megan talked about watching Jared through the window helping her seeing him in person, Jensen still feels it like a freight train. Suddenly it’s not just Jared through glass, like watching primetime television. It’s actually Jared in front of him four feet away, leaning shyly against the interrogation table and watching him. Having Jared’s eyes on him was a factor he didn’t account for, a variable he had never considered, especially not when he’s looking at him like that, like Jensen is the most precious part of his world and Jared is terrified of breaking it.

Jared stands up, slowly like he’s approaching a spooked animal, his hand offered out in a placating gesture, palm up and unassuming. He stands back, cautious, but Jensen can read it in his expression just how much self-restraint this is taking, to hang back and not rush to him like he has time and time again when Jensen has been upset.

And Jensen, Jensen can’t move. His legs are shaking, colt-weak but stubbornly bolted to the floor, refusing to let himself crumple. His entire body is shaking, he realizes, in shiver-tight convulsions that are so self-contained someone on the street may barely notice, but he knows Jared does.

“Hey,” Jared murmurs, voice soft and sweet, the edges of his lips twitching up briefly in a hopeful smile, but Jensen can see the tears playing at the corners of his eyes, is acutely aware of the silent tears falling from his own. Jensen chokes on a sob, the word, his voice, an instant jolt to every synapse on his body and Jared instinctively takes a step forward, fingers reaching out before he stops himself.

“You’re shaking,” Jared observes, voice tear-thick and whisper-thin as he settles cautiously into his space, about a foot away and Jensen’s mouth is agape now, jaw set and trembling. He’s still shock-paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare, watch now as the tears track their way down Jared’s face and choose to jump from his jawline or slick a curve down his neck. He’s so close Jensen can see his pulse point pounding, knows that Jared’s heart must be ready to burst from his chest like his own.

Jensen tries to shift his weight a bit on his legs, growing sore in their lock-kneed stance, but the right one starts buckle for a moment before he catches himself, and Jared hand flies out to steady him. The contact of his palm to Jensen’s bicep is searing, like a jolt to start the battery that has been stalling out, keeping Jensen stuck in neutral. Feeling it like electricity in his veins, Jensen steps back on instinct, gasping in surprise.

“Shit,” Jared hisses, guilt spreading over all his features. “Jen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Jensen stares for a long moment, breathing hard before sucking in a deep, steadying breath. Reaching out a shaky hand, his fingers skid along Jared’s jawline in hesitant skip-touch contacts before pressing firmly and more resolutely trailing down to his neck, settling over his pulse point. The skin there is impossibly warm, and the beat is strong, rapid like Jensen’s, but indisputable. Absolute. Alive.

“Jared,” Jensen whispers, sure now, against all impossibilities. Glancing up from his fingers on Jared’s neck, Jensen meets his eyes. A watery smile greets him back, relief playing strong over his features, Jared’s perfect features, and Jensen tries to convince himself, tries to remind himself, that he isn’t dreaming, that somehow this is really happening.

Jared reaches out to where Jensen’s fingers still linger at his pulse point, carefully lacing his them with his own and that is the point at which Jensen loses it. Staggering forward, he collapses into Jared’s arms, previous attempts at composure giving way to unrestrained wails, years of pain bubbling to the surface as he clings to Jared. Jared holds him, shouldering nearly his entire weight, whispering to him that it’s okay, that he’s here now, like that isn’t just going to make Jensen cry all the harder.

After a few moments, a few minutes, a few hours, for all Jensen knows, Jared backs them up to a chair, sitting down and hoisting Jensen into his lap, allowing him to straddle him and giving him more leverage to comfort him as he rubs soothing circles on his back. Jensen isn’t wailing any more, at least he doesn’t think he is, his face buried in the warm crook of Jared’s neck. Inhaling his scent, he feels Jared’s vocal chords vibrate as he whispers soothing words to him, though his brain only catches every few words of what those are.

“You… okay… alright… love… you… here. I… you… I love you, okay? I’m sorry Jen, I never meant-”

“Fuck,” Jensen manages at last, the word quiet and broken, but Jared jolts up like he’s speaking gospel.

“Jen? Hey,” he says, pulling away just far enough to get a look at his face. “You okay?”

People seem to be asking him that a lot today. “No,” he laughs, digging his palms at the corners of his eyes to remove the tears there as he groans. “I mean. I don’t know, man.”

Jared watches him, worry in his eyes. “I know this is a lot. I can’t even imagine…” he trails off, shaking his head before repeating, “I can’t even imagine.”

“I’m happy,” Jensen says, because it seems too basic not to state. “Obviously, but I just. Seeing you again, shit.” Jared nods his head, but doesn’t look particularly comforted. It twists ugly at Jensen’s heart, and all he wants is to make him smile. “All I wanted was you back, Jared, for so long. It just. It doesn’t seem real.”

“It doesn’t,” Jared snorts, running his fingers through his hair, and for the first time Jensen really notices how tired he looks, dark circles under his eyes like when they’d pull all-nighters in college, stressed over finals and perfect GPA’s. “When they told me, I didn’t believe them. I mean, obviously, I didn’t believe them.”

For the first time, Jensen takes a moment to consider what this must be like for Jared, to wake up and be told you’re dead, have been dead, and the world has moved on without you. He wants to fix it, to tell Jared it will be okay, but he knows he isn’t in any shape to be making promises right now, so he offers what he can.

“Did you tell them to fuck off?” Jensen deadpans, pride blooming in his chest when he earns a deep laugh from Jared. Reaching his arms around Jensen again, Jared pulls him to his chest, tucking his head under his chin. Jensen closes his eyes and smiles, knowing he at least did something right.

“Am I that predictable?”

“Just know you, s’all,” Jensen smiles, his body relaxing further into the hold.

“Yeah, well. You’d tell them to go to hell, too. They sounded insane,” Jared chuckles lightly before turning serious. “But then they showed me the date. The articles.The… the accident file. My damn headstone,” Jared’s grip grows tighter on Jensen as he tenses in his arms. “And it was still hard to process, still couldn’t believe it, but then… I mean, all I could think about was you.”

“Me?”

“I just wanted you here. I knew I’d make it through this if I could just see you,” Jared continues, voice gone quiet and shy as he releases his hold on Jensen. Pulling back, Jensen looks at him, but Jared is looking at the floor, not meeting his eyes. “Then I got here and I wasn’t sure,” he stops to clear his throat, eyes flicking to Jensen’s. “Wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me.”

The words knock the air from Jensen’s lungs. How could Jared even think that? “What do you mean? Of course I’d want to see you.”

“There are some other couples here, where someone came back. An old guy, he and his wife had been together forty years. She saw him, said this was the work of Satan and she could smell the death on him. She said she didn’t ever want to see him again,” Jared recounts the story, his voice shaking progressively with every word. “And another guy, his wife came to see him. With her new fiancée, eight months pregnant.”

It’s obvious where this going. “Jared, I-”

“Three years is a long time Jensen. It is. It’s okay if you moved on. I would want you to. To move on,” Jared mumbles, face tilted downward and chewing hard on his bottom lip, like he does when he’s trying not to start bawling. “It’s okay.”

“Jared,” Jensen coaxes, fingers sliding gently under Jared’s chin to guide his eyes to meet his. He feels something break in him at the sadness there, the defeat, the tears marring his perfect face. “Babe. I just started being able to get out of bed every day on a consistent basis. I can assure you, I have not moved on.”

“But-”

“I’ve gone on exactly one two blind dates on the instance of other people so they’d shut up and stop worrying about me and both were total disasters. I’ve spent so much money on a therapist it’s ridiculous and my family still asks every time I see them if I’m still going to a therapist because they think I should be doing better than I am. Friends too. Trust me, I haven’t moved on.

“And as far as still wanting you… the only thing I’ve wanted these past three years was you back. The only thing. So yeah, this is all crazy, and it will take some adjusting. But having you back? I’ve missed you so goddamn much, Jay. So much. And I love you more you than anything, okay? That hasn’t changed. That won’t change.”

Jared is still crying, but his lips quirk up, pressing together like he’s trying to contain his emotion. “So… I mean. Shit, there’s no way to say this and not sound like a thirteen year old girl,” he laughs, Jensen laughing with him as he thumbs the tears off Jared’s cheeks.  “You still want to be with me, then?”

“Always have,” Jensen replies earnestly, and Jared grins, pulling him into a deep kiss before once more hugging him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, Jen, I was so worried.”

“You’ve just been sitting around all day thinking I wanted nothing to do with you, then?” Jensen asks, gut twisting at the thought.

“Yeah. You didn’t see them, the other couples. It was brutal.” Jared pulls back, shaking his head. “But I understood it too, you know? I couldn’t blame them for moving on. And like I said, I would want you to move on. It’s just the thought of coming back and not having you. Of having to do this alone, of being here and not having you-”

Jensen breathes a humorless laugh. “Yeah, trust me. I get it.

Jared winces. “Yeah, you would. Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”

“No it isn’t,” Jensen shakes his head, brushing the hair out of Jared’s eyes and giving him a small smile. “You’re right. It’s the worst.”

“I’m sorry I left you. I never would have wanted to-”

“I never thought you did, Jay,” says earnestly, “it was just one of those things. But you can’t leave me again okay? You can’t do that to me and Sades.”

Jared’s face brightens up at the mention of their dog. “Sadie! You still have her?”

“Of course I still have her,” Jensen bristles, offended. “What do you think I would have done, dumped her with someone?”

“No, but you weren’t exactly her biggest fan,” Jared grins, eyes glinting mischievously. “After she ate your Jordans-”

“Correction: two of my Jordans,” Jensen interrupts, irritation coloring his voice at the memory. “She ate two shoes from two different pairs.”

“I’m sorry, after she ate two shoes,” Jared rolls his eyes, and Jensen feels the flare of annoyance Jared intended, but it’s immediately replaced with a flood of affection. “Anyway, you weren’t really on the ‘keep Sadie’ bandwagon after that, so I wasn’t sure if you’d still have her.”

“I kept her,” Jensen murmurs, thinking back on all the nights after Jared first died when she whined by the door waiting for him to come home. They both missed him, and though Sherrie had offered to take her in, the thought of rehoming her felt like giving up one of the last pieces of Jared he still had left. “We bonded. And she took obedience classes.” Jared laughs, wincing as he shifts his weight a bit in his chair.

“Shit, am I hurting you? Of course I’m hurting you,” Jensen curses, scrambling to his feet. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m never going to complain when you’re in my lap,” Jared quips, though he grimaces as he stretches his legs out.

“Idiot,” Jensen mutters, fondness once again flooding his chest as he pulls the other chair up right beside Jared, taking a seat and leaning in hard against his side as he pulls his phone out. Flipping through his photos, he pulls up one of the latest photos of Sadie, a picture of the German Shepard in his backyard panting at the lens. Smiling, as Jared would say.

“Oh my god,” Jared coos, snatching the phone from Jensen’s hands. “She’s so big!” And she is now, a full grown dog versus the pup she had been the last time Jared had seen her. He watches as Jared studies her, a combination of love, happiness, and sadness flitting over his features.

“She’s in a yard?” he observes, glancing to Jensen with a furrowed brow. “Are you not in the apartment anymore?”

“Nah, she needed a yard to run around in.”

“A house, then,” Jared deduces. “Renting?”

“I actually bought a place,” Jensen says, pride rising in his chest as Jared looks at him with surprise. “I got promoted to project lead a couple years ago and I’m making a lot more money. Figured it was a good investment.”

“Shit,” Jared whispers, awe in his tone. “That’s amazing, Jen. I expect a full recount every second of every single thing I’ve missed, you know that right? I mean everything.”

Jensen grins. He can’t think of the last time he’s smiled this much. “You’ve got it.”

Rap, rap, rap.

They both startle at the knocking at the door, glancing at each other before Jared yells, “Yeah?”

There’s a beat before Megan pokes her head in, the rest of her body soon following, joined by Sherrie.

“Hey,” Megan smiles, glancing between the two of them. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jared answers, looking to Jensen, seeking confirmation. He smiles and nods.

“Here,” Megan says, handing Jared a piece of paper Jensen recognizes as a temporary driver’s license. “They’re working on your other documents; said your social security card should be sorted out within three weeks or so.” Jared nods, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“They need the room, so we have to clear out,” she continues, looking regretful. “Did you talk to Jensen about coming to the house?” Jensen looks to Jared who, for his part, looks guilty.

“Didn’t get to that.”

Sherrie smiles at her son, adoration in her eyes. “No problem, sweetie. Jensen, we were thinking it might be best if everyone stayed at my place for a few days. They said the news will break to the media around noon, and from other cities, they’re expecting there might be reporters camped out on lawns. A real media circus.”

Just what all the families need in a time like this. “Perfect,” Jensen grumbles sarcastically.

“I know. Not much we can do, unfortunately, but bunker down for a few days.” Jensen nods, then realizes everyone is staring at him expectantly. His instinct is to whisk Jared away, never to be seen again, the two of them locked in safety forever. He doesn’t want to share Jared, doesn’t want to be away from him for a millisecond, but he knows that’s unrealistic. And unfair. And yeah, maybe incredibly selfish, when Jared’s family has gone through hell and deserves to spend time with him too.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he agrees against his own wishes, standing from the chair. Jared immediately pops up beside him, their shoulders brushing. “I’ll have to go to my place, though, get some stuff, and grab Sadie.”

“Honey, I don’t know if I like the idea of you driving right now,” Sherrie frowns, and normally Jensen would be offended at the implication his mental state might not be the best, but he’s sure he looks like he’s crawled through hell and back right now, and still feels it a bit, too.

“I can drive,” Jared volunteers eagerly, flashing the paper license he just obtained. “Licensed and everything.” Sherrie still looks a bit uncomfortable at the thought, but her daughter nudges her.

“Come on, Mom. It’ll be fine.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sherrie concedes. “And we’ll have to get Jared some clothes, some hygiene products… we could swing by Walmart, maybe?”

“I have most of his stuff,” Jensen admits quietly, prompting everyone to look at him once more. “In storage. His clothes and most of his stuff.”

“I thought you donated his clothes?” Megan asks, and Jensen knows exactly why she thinks that: because he told her he had. In reality, he had tried to, had his car all packed up and sitting in the parking lot of the Goodwill, but he hadn’t been able to pull around to the donation drop off. He had sat there for over an hour, trying to work up the courage, but in the end the boxes had been moved back to his basement, where they’ve sat untouched ever since.

He clears his throat. “Didn’t quite make it there.” Megan gives him a knowing, pitying look, and Jensen looks away. “He uh. Needs hygiene items, though. And socks and underwear. I, um. Didn’t keep those.” Jared giggles under his breath at that, elbowing Jensen, who shoots him a look. Stifling his laugh, Jared moves to tangle their fingers together and Jensen acts like he’s going to hold out for a moment before accepts. He turns his head and smiles, the action so easy, so normal, just their normal, stupid flirting, that it lights Jensen up with butterflies in his stomach.

Oblivious to their antics, Sherrie shuffles around in her purse for her set of keys. “Sounds good. We’ll meet you boys back at the house in a couple of hours, then. Or, Jensen, you have a key?”

“I do. Sounds like a plan.”

They follow the Padalecki women into the hall, he and Jared trailing behind, still holding hands. As they move into the main lobby of the policy department, the noise no longer seems overwhelming; Jared a warm and steadying presence at his side. Jensen is vaguely aware he’s grinning like an idiot, but can’t bring himself to care, flashing a bright smile to everyone who glances his way, ignoring their questioning looks.

Once outside, he digs in his pocket, fishing out his keys as Jared looks around.

“No bike?” he questions at the obvious lack of a motorcycle in the police lot and Jensen simply shakes his head, unwilling to bring the mood down to elaborate, not tonight.

“Nope,” he says simply, tossing him his keys and gesturing to the big Jeep across from them. “This guy.”

“You got a Jeep?” Jared cries, looking at Jensen incredulously.

“What’s wrong with a Jeep?” Jensen asks defensively, climbing into the passenger seat of his car as Jared slides into the driver’s seat, fumbles to turn it on, and immediately moves to mess with the seat controls, adjusting the foot room. Jensen rolls his eyes. This is why Jared never got to drive his car when he had one.

“You know I always wanted one,” Jared complains, glaring at Jensen.

“And now you’re driving one. So what’s the problem?”

“Now if I get one, we’ll be that couple,” Jared grumbles, shifting the car into reverse.

Jensen scoffs. “What couple?”

“The cutesy, matching car couple,” Jared explains, as if it’s obvious.

“So get one in a different color,” Jensen suggests, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Then we’ll be the matching but contrasting car couple, which is even worse.” Jensen is laughing outright now, Jared glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what to tell you, babe,” he chuckles, joy swelling in his chest at the normalcy of this conversation. Jared being ridiculous, Jensen playing into it, and
the two of them bickering lightly with no real heat. It had always been part of their relationship, something Jensen didn’t realized he had cherished so much until it was gone. Having it again, falling back into this flow so quickly, fills Jensen with happiness.

“Whatever,” Jared mumbles, though Jensen can see the small smile playing on his face as he whips to pull onto the main road. After a few seconds he reluctantly concedes, “It’s a really nice car, though.”

“I told you.”

“I told you,” Jared squawks, shooting Jensen a look as he bursts out into laughter again. “Shut up,” he grumbles, reaching over the console and tangling their fingers together. “Now tell me where you live.”

A half mile down the road now, in the opposite direction of his house, Jensen laughs all the harder.

Chapter Three