Release Me (5/?)
Release Me (5/?)
Author: 3rd_leg
Rating: PG-14
Summary: Part 5 of the Release Me verse. Sick!Jensen, Seriously Angsting/Depressed!Jared
Disclaimer: How I wish someone would at least lie to me and tell me they’re mine.
People change their ways when there's nothing left to lose - “Unfamiliar Ceilings” Fightstar
Jared was five years old the day he managed to scrawl out his full name. He vaguely remembers what it felt like to stare at the result of what four tongue-pinched-between-teeth minutes left on the lined paper. It was him, block lettered and barely legible, but it stated who he was for everybody to see and be proud of him. Nothing’s that simple anymore and these consent forms sure as hell aren’t going to be posted on his refrigerator at home.
Pen meets paper, then snaps back so hard the pages bend. Jared brushes manically at the tiny speck of black ink just above the signature line. There’s water dripping onto the page and Jared sure as hell couldn’t tell you where that’s coming from, but he swipes at that as well.
“Would you like some more time?”
“Was under the impression we didn’t have any,” Jared lifts his head and stares down the petite concerned nurse. There’s a scratching in his throat and a burning in his lungs. His legs are shaking, his fingers cramping and fuck, he needs a smoke.
The nurse scrunches her nose and sighs, but flips open Jensen’s file, and shit, Jared never noticed how thick that thing was getting. She holds out her hand for the consent forms. Jared feels at least one atmosphere of pressure release off his shoulders as she snaps the rings shut.
XXXXX
Jared slides the glass door closed, taking a long look out at the nurse’s station before pulling the plaid courtesy curtain shut. Pride’s all he’s got at this point. God forbid, he loses it on account of a prying nursing staff. Taking a deep breath, Jared turns on his heel, and blinks back tears.
Jensen looks the same, and maybe that should be a relief. It’s not, because Jared sees different IV bags and lower numbers on the monitor. There’s cold packs wrapped around Jensen’s arms and legs. Jared edges closer and realizes that one is wrapped around Jensen’s torso as well. He remembers the doctor telling them about a cool down routine, ten minutes on, ten off, if nothing else to keep Jensen’s brain from frying. Since Jared happens to like Jensen’s brain, no matter how much weird shit is stored up in it, he isn’t going to complain about them.
However, what Jared is going to complain about is that Jensen looks dead. Rigid and stiff like a damn corpse. Jared’s not an expert but he’d think that Jensen would at least be able to hold his hand. Okay, not that Jared is trying to interlock their fingers or anything, well, maybe just a little.
“So…uh, I was thinking earlier about when we were filming that shapeshifter episode and I was all worried ‘cause I thought I’d hurt you with the whole fighting stuff. You remember that?”
Jared studies Jensen’s chapped lips and growing stubble. His gloved fingers brush along the bottom of Jensen’s jaw line tenderly, and Jared contemplates bringing a razor with him next time to save Jensen from Forest Face.
“You told me you could handle it, and not to worry about hurting you ‘cause I wouldn’t mean it.” Jared swallows back the lump in his throat and sniffs. “Jen-if this hurts you, if I…I’d mean it you know? It’d be my fault, and I can’t. God, Jensen. What do they fucking know? The stuff they have you on now is supposed to work! And it doesn’t fucking work!”
So, Jared knows he’s yelling, but the door’s closed. That means the outside world can’t hear, right? Jensen’s monitor gives a two-toned ping and Jared instantly feels guilty. “I’m sorry. Not mad at you, okay? And I know they want to do this to help. I know that. I do. ‘S why I have to.”
Okay, so maybe he knows it, but that doesn’t make it one bit easier to swallow the magnitude of what the doctor wants him to sign off on. “I-I need you to fight. Just hang in there, and don’t leave. Please, don’t leave. ‘Cause I--.”
There’s a gasping break in Jared’s voice that he chokes on. “Can’t. I can’t. Not like this.”
Jared peers over his shoulder, a precautionary check to maintain that the curtain is still in place and leans over, gloved hand smoothing out the excess material on his protective gown. Tears brim in his red-rimmed eyes as he tilts his head and positions his body just right so he can press a soft kiss to Jensen’s fevered forehead.
Jared almost wishes Jensen’s eyes would pop open and he’d get surprised but returned emotion. He feels heartwrenchingly guilty that Jensen being near death is the only way he can even begin to express his need for Jensen to be in his life.
XXXXX
Sandy’s waiting for him outside the ICU doors. Her arms are crossed and her lips a thin line like she does when she’s getting ready to tell Jared something she knows is going to make him angry. Jared grits his teeth, but is too worn out to really muster up any sense of caring.
“Don’t make them stress over this, Jar. Just sign, okay? They want you to.”
“He’s gonna die, Sandy.”
“Baby, I’m taking you home.” Sandy states firmly, crossed arms breaking and hands resting on her hips. “You have to sleep and get something in you other than coffee and, god help me, nicotine.”
Jared’s eyes squint in surprise and he hates the smug smirk on Sandy’s face. “You reek of smoke, Jared.”
“It’s not that bad.” Jared argues, pulling up the collar of his shirt and sniffing the sharp scent. Okay, so maybe it was embedded pretty good. “It calms me down.”
“You never needed them before,” Sandy counters, face softening as she moves closer. “Jar, you gotta stop this. It isn’t good for you, okay? You can’t take all this on yourself.”
“Don’t have a choice,” Jared pulls away when Sandy tries to wrap her arms around him. “I did what ya’ll wanted me to do. So, why don’t you take care of letting people know?”
“Jared, I’m not trying to-“ Sandy grabs Jared’s arm tightly, holding fast even when Jared gives a hard jerk that nearly knocks her off balance. “I’m worried about you. We all are dealing with the fact that we could lose Jensen, but Jared…baby, I can’t-I can’t lose you too.”
“I’m not the one in the hospital bed,” Jared argues, and steps back when he feels Sandy’s grip on his arm loosen.
“Where are you going?” Sandy asks quietly and undemanding. Jared hates when she does that. It’s some twisted kind of manipulation to get him to talk. He always falls for it, except tonight. He refuses to answer and heads toward the elevators.
XXXXX
A bottle of Jack and two packs of cigarettes don’t make up a Delorean. Seriously, Jared’s tried, even put it to the test in his truck at 88 miles per hour. In his defense the fence moved, that or the road curved after he decided to go straight.
Anyways, beside the point, ‘cause the truck is hissing his stupidity and Jared’s sure the folded, bent hood of the car is a reflection of what his leg has to look like judging by how it feels. He would try to take a gander at it, but he’s not really seeing much right now except black spots and distorted bits of his car.
He’s heard enough drunk driving ads to know its stupid, but he had to get back to the hospital. Time got away, and he has to apologize to Jensen for letting it. And try to take back what he did. God, he signed, and what if…well, if it came to that, then Jared was right to get drunk off his ass because there is no way in hell he’d take that news sober.
His phone is somewhere on the floor. He should call for help, the road was empty, or he thinks it was. The fire in his chest makes him not even care about trying to remember. Jared slumps back in the driver’s seat, letting his eyes slide shut against the pain.
They startle open a second later, accompanied by a harsh pounding on the driver’s window and Chris’s angry glare through the glass.
“Go ‘way,” Jared murmurs, letting his head fall back on the bench seat.
The door squeals open and Jared feels the need to repeat himself because fuckin’ Christian Kane doesn’t listen. “Dammit to hell, Padalecki. You better not be fucking hurt.”
Jared’s swimming brain thinks that’s Kane speak for I’m so happy to find you alive, and a quivering grin crosses his face. “How ya find me?”
“Been looking for you for over two hours, decided to give up. Luck, I guess.” Christian’s voice sounds a ways off, and Jared tilts his head up to see three Chris’s checking out the front end of the truck. “I don’t think this is still driveable, Padalecki.”
Jared blinks heavily and nods. It’s the best he can do, and he’s too exhausted to care that he’s going to have to carpool for a couple days. Chris lets out a long sigh and Jared feels a warm hand press on his shoulder. “Alright, if anything’s broken we’ll find out, eh?”
“My leg,” Jared mumbles, and watches with hooded eyes as Chris leans over him and stares down near the pedals. The jeans scratch his leg as Chris checks it over.
“Just looks like you banged your knee pretty good.”
Fingers press into his ribcage and across his belly. “That hurt?” Chris asks tersely, but Jared can sense the apprehension and worry.
“Nah, I’m alright,” Jared wheezes, leaning all his weight onto Chris’ shoulder.
“Yeah yeah,” Chris mumbles. His shoulders tense suddenly and Jared jerks up, lips squeezing tight in a grimace when the drumming in his head takes on a whole new beat. “Shit.”
Jared can sort of make out the shape of a gray haired man wandering over in slippers and a robe. Chris all but drops Jared and walks over to meet the man. There’s a lot of loud talking that goes down, Jared chooses to close his eyes rather than see the discussion.
“You’re lucky I’m a smooth talker. Damn lucky.” Chris huffs, wrapping an arm around Jared and helping him slide off the bench seat. For Jared’s sake, Chris waits until he has both shaky legs on solid ground before ripping him a new one. “I should take your ass to the ER and get the cops called on you. You’re a stupid son of a bitch you know that? How’d that help, Jensen? He’d wake up and find out you killed yourself.”
“I know,” Jared snaps, trying to pull away, but his swelling knee buckles or maybe Chris just won’t let him go.
“No, I don’t think you do. Last time-Jensen’s lost to this kind of stupidity before.” Chris mutters bitterly, hoisting Jared’s lagging body up and half-dragging him to the passenger side of his truck. “From now until I say otherwise, you ain’t going anywhere without me, got it?
Jared opens his mouth to protest because dammit, he doesn’t need a babysitter. Chris cuts him off. “Don’t. Because tonight could’ve made a bad situation a whole new level of worse.”
It takes a minute or two for Chris to get them situated to get the passenger door open, and Jared safely buckled inside. Jared’s grateful for the few minutes of silence, and kind of wishes he’d just pass out already so he doesn’t have to hear the rest of the lecture he knows is coming when Chris slides in behind the driver’s seat.
“Why you care?” Jared slurs with as much heat as he can muster. He’s not a four year old, after all.
“You think Jensen would care?” Chris inquires rhetorically.
Jared slumps against the truck door. “Had to see Jen.”
“Yeah, well, you ain’t gonna be seeing him until you sober up,” Chris states with finality, reaching for his cell and finding Steve’s number. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jared’s feeling indignant. It’s the usual side affect for his wasted evenings and repressed emotions, so he crosses his arms and forces his eyes wide. “He’s gotta know…the truth, he’s gotta know…”
“It’s gonna have to wait,” Chris chides, but softens his tone when he sees Jared’s panic at the idea.
“I lied to him and he’s gonna die. I lied to him.” Jared stammers, slowly losing the grip on the conscious world.
“Jen’s gonna make it, Jared. And you can tell him when he wakes up, alright?” Chris huffs a long sigh, and turns when he doesn’t get an immediate answer. He sighs again when he finds Jared passed out cold. “Fuck, Padalecki, what were you thinking?”
TBC
Please let me know what you think…I’m not sure this is the best update I’ve ever posted or even something that people can stand to read cause of how bad Jared’s getting but you know…You guys are the feedback that helps me out!