Release Me (6/?)
Title: Release Me
Author: 3rd_leg
Rating: PG-14
Summary: Part 6 of the Release Me verse. Sick!Jensen Angsty!Jared
Disclaimer: It's on my Christmas List, but I'm thinking I'd have to take a pilgrimage to the North Pole to make sure that request is um..handled correctly.
Release Me (6/?)
And I walk and I fall ‘til I can't feel a thing. I am sick of the sound of my own shattered mind. I don't know who I am. I don't know where we all will be. - “Happy Endings” David Usher
The smell of the room is unfamiliar, a dull clean scent that he struggles to identify. He twists in the too warm sheets and struggles to open his eyes. He blinks, sees nothing but fuzzy round blobs and something that looks like a tree. The tree is talking, kind of, it’s muffled and Jensen is too damn exhausted to attempt to make out the words.
He tries to fight off the blankets, but a searing pain all over his leaden limbs thanks him for the effort. On the up side, his brain is bordering alert now. Jensen chooses to swat at the covers until something moves off of him. He jerks in surprise when the tree stretches out its limbs to stop him and pulls the covers off.
The grip on his hand is firm, grounding, and Jensen wants to express his thanks but suddenly realizes that he can’t. Shit, he can’t. There’s something choking him, the rhythm in his chest one he can’t keep time with.
His heart pounds in his chest quietly agonizing. He grunts to express it, unsure if the tree got the message. If it didn’t god knows the screeching wail coming from somewhere nearby filled in the blanks because the grip is gone and a voice growing louder and louder penetrates the fog suffocating him.
He’s not sure how much time passes before the darkness claims him again.
XXXX
“Whu?” Jared grumbles as hands wrap around his torso, pulling him. He closes one eye and tries to convince his other one to focus.
“I should’ve let you fall out the bed.”
Ah, yes. His savior and knight who better watch his fucking ass because once Jared can get outta bed, well, Chris just better not turn his back. Jared wipes at his eyes furiously.
“What time is it?” Jared murmurs, sliding his tongue across the desert dry roof of his mouth and chapped lips.
Chris cracks the knuckles on his right hand. “Ten after three.”
Jared lets out a massive yawn, and wrinkles his nose as he catches a good foul whiff of stale nicotine and liquor. His visions cleared enough to catch the smug smirk on Chris’ face, and Jared’s muddled brain goes from half speed to full capacity.
“You fuckin’ jerk.” Jared bites his bottom lip firmly as he works to slide over to the edge of the bed.
Chris plants a firm hand to Jared’s chest and Jared’s only moderately embarrassed it doesn’t take more than a light shove to push him down. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”
“Slept too long. Gotta get back.” Jared mutters, and moves toward the edge of the bed again. This time Chris doesn’t stop him and Jared doesn’t really know what to make of that. His knee throbs as he swings his legs to the floor. Jared looks down past the edge of his boxers to see a spectacularly bluish purple stain where his kneecap used to be.
“I’d wait there, Padalecki,” Chris comments, a warning mixed with an impending I told you so.
Fuck him, Jared decides and pushes up. He inhales sharply against the pulsating agony that his leg and feels himself swaying. Chris’s hands are there, but Jared swats them away. He totally blames Christian Kane for distracting his efforts and making him slam into the nightstand.
“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Jared demands in the loudest roar his throbbing head can handle, clawing at the small table for support.
Miraculously, Chris does.
XXXXX
It takes Jared about mid-way through scrubbing his gritted teeth to realize the bathroom he’s in is his very own. He’s home. He finds it odd because really it doesn’t feel it should to be in his sanctuary. It feels empty. Just like everything else.
He spits and rinses, then lifts his head. He needs to shave and a pair of aviator sunglasses to hide the dark circles and bloodshot appearance of his eyes. He looks and feels old, shoulders drooped and back hunched as if his world truly is resting there. Jared gives his reflection an unsteady, closed-lip smile before wobbling out into the hallway.
The more Jared teeters the looser his paining joint feels and Jared makes it to the living room without much hassle. Chris is planted on the sofa, drinking coffee and watching John Wayne on TMC. Jared sinks into the recliner, hands folded in his lap like he’s waiting on a scolding from the principal.
“I hope you showered.” Chris states, his focus never leaving the screen as he takes a drink from the mug.
Jared rolls his eyes, because no, he did not. Thank you fucking much, and Chris ain’t his momma. “No time. I’ll take one after I go see Jensen.”
Chris sighs long and deep. Jared thinks maybe he’s missing something. He was out for a long time, anything-oh shit, oh shit. Jared sucks in a rapid breath and his heart thuds against his ribcage in a violent threat to burst free. Jared’s up and slamming his thumb against the TV’s power button before the action registers with his brain.
“I wanna know what the hell is going on!” Jared snaps, and figures it probably would’ve sounded better if the words hadn’t come out so fucking desperate.
Chris sets down his mug and tucks a loose strand of long hair behind his ear as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. Jared swallows nervously. “Sit.”
Jared doesn’t readily comply with that order, but decides his overall health is safer than his stubbornness when Chris rises from the sofa. “Okay, okay.”
Jared’s butt hits the recliner before Chris too, sits back. “You ain’t gonna like it,” Chris begins, and Jared nervously brings his thumbnail to his teeth. “But you know, we all decided it was the best thing to do.”
“Not following, Kane.” Jared shifts anxiously, and God this must be what Hell feels like because waiting to get fucking answers is the worst kind of torture he’s ever experienced.
“It’s been almost two days, Padalecki.” Chris says matter-of-factly, and Jared stops. Freezes like a damn statue, mouth open and eyes wide.
“What?”
Chris pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look I’m pretty sure you can’t remember the last time you actually slept outside of today ‘cause no body else can either. Alcoholism don’t count as quality rest and I ain’t the smartest man in the world, but I figure half your problems the past week is ‘cause you ain’t been.”
Jared straightens, back rigid and teeth clenched. “What’s your point?”
“Point is Sandy cleaned your ass up after you woke up and puked all over yourself and your bed.” Chris returns firmly, and Jared’s sure his face shows the bewilderment his brain’s going through trying to remember that event. “I don’t expect you to recall it. Gave you more than aspirin, Padalecki.”
Jared blinks in confusion, then bolts upright and across the room toward Chris. His hand grips the collar of Chris’ tee and it takes less effort than Jared thought it would to pin the man to the couch. “You fucking drugged me? How the hell is that supposed to help? Huh? I asked you a fuckin’ question, Kane!”
“Let go.” Chris locks Jared’s furious stare with one of his own, and wraps his fingers around Jared’s wrist. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
Jared releases his hold, but takes to manically pacing to give his rage an outlet that doesn’t involve kicking a size 13 hole in the side of Chris’ head. Chris rubs his neck and stands, keeping a decent distance away.
“You needed it, and I ain’t sorry,” Chris smoothes out his shirt. “I ain’t gonna be the one to blame when Jensen asks how you’re doing.”
Jared halts, and turns a needy almost frightened glance over toward Chris. “Jensen’s alright?”
“Got a call this morning. Seems our boy finally decided to wake his ass up.” Chris informs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his face that Jared wants to share with him and slap Chris for having all at the same time. He must look too hopeful, ‘cause Chris frowns. “A lotta alarms went off soon after. Alan said he’d call when he found anything else out.”
Jared ponders the new information, and lets his heart cling to the small fraction of hope. Jensen’s fighting. He is, god, Jared’s heart knows he is. His brain, however, is full of all the things that could go wrong. Jared threads shaky hands through his tacky, sweaty hair, twisting and pulling at the locks as if the action will remove all horrible possibilities from his mind.
“Tell me you don’t need a drink that bad.” Chris grabs Jared’s arm, eyeing the still quivering hand.
Jared wants to pull away, and in his mind, rightfully rip Chris a new one, but he can’t seem to muster the energy anymore and his knee would quite possibly betray him if he tried. He’s drained, emotionally and physically. Judging by the way Chris is staring at him, Jared knows that Chris can see it all too clear.
“Smoke,” Jared whispers, pulling his hand away and clenching his fist to stop the tremors.
“Yeah, Sandy told me you picked up the habit,” Chris smirks in mirror to Jared’s pensive frown. Chris’ hand claps him on the shoulder, squeezing the muscle there in friendly affection. “Welcome to the team.”
Jared manages a smirk at that and follows Chris out onto the small deck.
XXXX
The butane flame flickers weakly. Jared’s going to need to buy a new lighter the rate he’s been smoking. Chris settles down on the plastic deck chair and pulls out his Pall Malls. Not Jared’s first choice, but it’ll do. He lights one for himself and leans over to light Chris before taking a place against the ledge of the deck.
“This calm you down?” Chris asks, cigarette pinned between his teeth.
Jared nods, studying the grass below them. “Something to do, you know?”
Chris blows out a wispy stream of smoke and smiles lazily. “Now you just sound like Jensen.”
Jared turns around, sees the reminiscent look in Chris’ eyes and can’t bring himself to consider looking at the grass again. “Yeah?”
“Never seen somebody get so worked up when they supposed to be having fun,” Chris shakes his head, but the fondness in his voice is impossible to miss. “First time he had a network party, he smoked a whole pack of mine ‘til he puked. Told me the same thing. Something to do…”
“He doesn’t smoke much anymore,” Jared comments softly, nudging his bare toes into the wooden deck slats.
Chris flicks off the gathering ashes at the end of his cigarette. “Doesn’t have to.”
Jared meets Chris’ stare then, and clears his throat suddenly feeling all kinds of transparent. “I know better.”
Chris drops the cigarette on the deck and squashes it with the heel of his boot. “What we think is better and what actually is ain’t always the same thing. If you get me.”
Jared’s answer is simply an exhale of smoke and Chris interlocks his fingers, resting them against the back of his neck. “You said you lied to him.”
Jared shakes his head furiously, ignoring the rattling sensation of dizziness it brings. “No, I didn’t.”
Chris reaches out, smacking Jared’s arm to elicit the man’s attention. “You can’t say something like that to me and leave me hanging. Tell me so I won’t kill ya later when Jensen finds out the hard way.”
“You’d tell him before he had the chance,” Jared returns and smirks when Chris laughs in agreement. “It’s stupid.”
Chris’ countenance turns solemn. “Doubt it.”
“I-I told him I wanted to marry Sandy,” Jared admits, flicking his cigarette to the deck.
“She got a ring on her finger, don’t she?” Chris questions and Jared stares at his feet.
“We were drifting apart. And I didn’t want to think--I kept thinking, maybe it’s the distance. So, I should fix it. The distance I mean, that would make it better. Us being closer and all,” the words fly out of Jared’s mouth quickly and he pauses to catch his breath. “I messed up before…before-“
“You fell for Jensen?” Chris interjects and Jared nods, blinking back the burning behind his eyes.
“My mom couldn’t even look at me for a week,” Jared mutters, breath leaving a lot faster than it was coming. “My family loves Sandy. She’s perfect.”
“Ever consider perfect for them ain’t perfect for you?” Chris inquires bluntly, standing and making his way toward the sliding door.
“I can’t choose between them,” Jared argues, stomping out the cigarette roughly. “This is better for everybody.”
Chris shrugs his shoulders. “You talk to Jensen bout it?”
Jared gapes in muted horror. “He doesn’t know about...He doesn’t know and I’m not going to dump my shit on him like that.”
“Then you don’t know if it’s better for everybody or not,” Chris argues, gesturing for Jared to get inside the house. “C’mon, eat something, and we’ll go.”
XXXXX
The first thing Jared sees when the elevator doors slide open is Sandy looking as guilty as Judas Iscariot. He averts his gaze, and barrels down the hallway toward the waiting room. Jared knows she’s following him, and probably using Chris as a fucking body shield, but he’s too preoccupied with Jensen’s well being to care.
Alan is in the doorway to the waiting room as Jared turns the corner. He smiles and Jared is fairly certain that he hasn’t seen that expression cross the elder Ackles in ages.
“Thank you,” Alan whispers shakily, and embraces Jared in a fierce hug. Jared returns the gesture, but doesn’t understand why all the shit he pulled is worth a thanks.
“Heard Jensen woke up,” Jared states, pulling away from Alan, eyes searching Jensen’s father’s face for details.
Alan nods, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah, they started those new antibiotics and uh, they seemed to be working. So, they reduced the sedative too. His fever dropped. Donna and I were in there with him. Never thought I’d be happy to see my son scared, Jared.”
“Scared?” Jared glances past Alan, staring out at the small family crowd over the man’s shoulder. Might as well ask the entire group, because scared is not the reaction Jared wanted to hear.
“Doctor said that’s normal coming out of something like that. Disorientation and all.” Donna comforts from the back corner. “They let us stay in there most of the morning. He woke up better the second time, only a few minutes, but still it’s something, right?”
Jared rolls his bottom lip under his teeth, casting a stare over his shoulder to the traitorous duo behind him. “Yeah, it is. Can I-I mean, is someone in there now? Or-you know?”
Donna’s small smile fades and Alan clears his throat. Jared looks between the two, trying to ignore the cold sweat beading on his palms and forehead. Jensen’s gonna have hell to pay for turning him into a nervous wreck.
“His fever spiked earlier this afternoon,” Alan reveals and Jared’s stomach churns violently. “Not a lot. But enough that the doctor’s want to make sure he doesn’t have a…uh…”
“Secondary infection,” Donna interjects softly.
“Yeah,” Alan nods, “Sorry, son. But the doctors said that until they figure that out, he’s going to postpone visiting hours. Trust me, none of us are too happy about that. But if it’ll help Jensen then…”
Jared wordlessly holds up his hands to stop Alan’s rambling. Alan steps out of the doorway and Jared knows he should take a seat next to the family and join in the vigil. The rage pulsating through his body won’t let him. He turns on his heels, opening his mouth to scream when he sees Chris and Sandy pressed against the far wall looking ready to bolt.
Nothing comes out, his brain can’t form the words his heart so desperately wants to let loose. He doesn’t even chide himself for wanting to kill them, nor congratulate himself for not doing so when he flees toward the stairway exit.
Author: 3rd_leg
Rating: PG-14
Summary: Part 6 of the Release Me verse. Sick!Jensen Angsty!Jared
Disclaimer: It's on my Christmas List, but I'm thinking I'd have to take a pilgrimage to the North Pole to make sure that request is um..handled correctly.
Release Me (6/?)
And I walk and I fall ‘til I can't feel a thing. I am sick of the sound of my own shattered mind. I don't know who I am. I don't know where we all will be. - “Happy Endings” David Usher
The smell of the room is unfamiliar, a dull clean scent that he struggles to identify. He twists in the too warm sheets and struggles to open his eyes. He blinks, sees nothing but fuzzy round blobs and something that looks like a tree. The tree is talking, kind of, it’s muffled and Jensen is too damn exhausted to attempt to make out the words.
He tries to fight off the blankets, but a searing pain all over his leaden limbs thanks him for the effort. On the up side, his brain is bordering alert now. Jensen chooses to swat at the covers until something moves off of him. He jerks in surprise when the tree stretches out its limbs to stop him and pulls the covers off.
The grip on his hand is firm, grounding, and Jensen wants to express his thanks but suddenly realizes that he can’t. Shit, he can’t. There’s something choking him, the rhythm in his chest one he can’t keep time with.
His heart pounds in his chest quietly agonizing. He grunts to express it, unsure if the tree got the message. If it didn’t god knows the screeching wail coming from somewhere nearby filled in the blanks because the grip is gone and a voice growing louder and louder penetrates the fog suffocating him.
He’s not sure how much time passes before the darkness claims him again.
XXXX
“Whu?” Jared grumbles as hands wrap around his torso, pulling him. He closes one eye and tries to convince his other one to focus.
“I should’ve let you fall out the bed.”
Ah, yes. His savior and knight who better watch his fucking ass because once Jared can get outta bed, well, Chris just better not turn his back. Jared wipes at his eyes furiously.
“What time is it?” Jared murmurs, sliding his tongue across the desert dry roof of his mouth and chapped lips.
Chris cracks the knuckles on his right hand. “Ten after three.”
Jared lets out a massive yawn, and wrinkles his nose as he catches a good foul whiff of stale nicotine and liquor. His visions cleared enough to catch the smug smirk on Chris’ face, and Jared’s muddled brain goes from half speed to full capacity.
“You fuckin’ jerk.” Jared bites his bottom lip firmly as he works to slide over to the edge of the bed.
Chris plants a firm hand to Jared’s chest and Jared’s only moderately embarrassed it doesn’t take more than a light shove to push him down. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”
“Slept too long. Gotta get back.” Jared mutters, and moves toward the edge of the bed again. This time Chris doesn’t stop him and Jared doesn’t really know what to make of that. His knee throbs as he swings his legs to the floor. Jared looks down past the edge of his boxers to see a spectacularly bluish purple stain where his kneecap used to be.
“I’d wait there, Padalecki,” Chris comments, a warning mixed with an impending I told you so.
Fuck him, Jared decides and pushes up. He inhales sharply against the pulsating agony that his leg and feels himself swaying. Chris’s hands are there, but Jared swats them away. He totally blames Christian Kane for distracting his efforts and making him slam into the nightstand.
“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Jared demands in the loudest roar his throbbing head can handle, clawing at the small table for support.
Miraculously, Chris does.
XXXXX
It takes Jared about mid-way through scrubbing his gritted teeth to realize the bathroom he’s in is his very own. He’s home. He finds it odd because really it doesn’t feel it should to be in his sanctuary. It feels empty. Just like everything else.
He spits and rinses, then lifts his head. He needs to shave and a pair of aviator sunglasses to hide the dark circles and bloodshot appearance of his eyes. He looks and feels old, shoulders drooped and back hunched as if his world truly is resting there. Jared gives his reflection an unsteady, closed-lip smile before wobbling out into the hallway.
The more Jared teeters the looser his paining joint feels and Jared makes it to the living room without much hassle. Chris is planted on the sofa, drinking coffee and watching John Wayne on TMC. Jared sinks into the recliner, hands folded in his lap like he’s waiting on a scolding from the principal.
“I hope you showered.” Chris states, his focus never leaving the screen as he takes a drink from the mug.
Jared rolls his eyes, because no, he did not. Thank you fucking much, and Chris ain’t his momma. “No time. I’ll take one after I go see Jensen.”
Chris sighs long and deep. Jared thinks maybe he’s missing something. He was out for a long time, anything-oh shit, oh shit. Jared sucks in a rapid breath and his heart thuds against his ribcage in a violent threat to burst free. Jared’s up and slamming his thumb against the TV’s power button before the action registers with his brain.
“I wanna know what the hell is going on!” Jared snaps, and figures it probably would’ve sounded better if the words hadn’t come out so fucking desperate.
Chris sets down his mug and tucks a loose strand of long hair behind his ear as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. Jared swallows nervously. “Sit.”
Jared doesn’t readily comply with that order, but decides his overall health is safer than his stubbornness when Chris rises from the sofa. “Okay, okay.”
Jared’s butt hits the recliner before Chris too, sits back. “You ain’t gonna like it,” Chris begins, and Jared nervously brings his thumbnail to his teeth. “But you know, we all decided it was the best thing to do.”
“Not following, Kane.” Jared shifts anxiously, and God this must be what Hell feels like because waiting to get fucking answers is the worst kind of torture he’s ever experienced.
“It’s been almost two days, Padalecki.” Chris says matter-of-factly, and Jared stops. Freezes like a damn statue, mouth open and eyes wide.
“What?”
Chris pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look I’m pretty sure you can’t remember the last time you actually slept outside of today ‘cause no body else can either. Alcoholism don’t count as quality rest and I ain’t the smartest man in the world, but I figure half your problems the past week is ‘cause you ain’t been.”
Jared straightens, back rigid and teeth clenched. “What’s your point?”
“Point is Sandy cleaned your ass up after you woke up and puked all over yourself and your bed.” Chris returns firmly, and Jared’s sure his face shows the bewilderment his brain’s going through trying to remember that event. “I don’t expect you to recall it. Gave you more than aspirin, Padalecki.”
Jared blinks in confusion, then bolts upright and across the room toward Chris. His hand grips the collar of Chris’ tee and it takes less effort than Jared thought it would to pin the man to the couch. “You fucking drugged me? How the hell is that supposed to help? Huh? I asked you a fuckin’ question, Kane!”
“Let go.” Chris locks Jared’s furious stare with one of his own, and wraps his fingers around Jared’s wrist. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
Jared releases his hold, but takes to manically pacing to give his rage an outlet that doesn’t involve kicking a size 13 hole in the side of Chris’ head. Chris rubs his neck and stands, keeping a decent distance away.
“You needed it, and I ain’t sorry,” Chris smoothes out his shirt. “I ain’t gonna be the one to blame when Jensen asks how you’re doing.”
Jared halts, and turns a needy almost frightened glance over toward Chris. “Jensen’s alright?”
“Got a call this morning. Seems our boy finally decided to wake his ass up.” Chris informs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his face that Jared wants to share with him and slap Chris for having all at the same time. He must look too hopeful, ‘cause Chris frowns. “A lotta alarms went off soon after. Alan said he’d call when he found anything else out.”
Jared ponders the new information, and lets his heart cling to the small fraction of hope. Jensen’s fighting. He is, god, Jared’s heart knows he is. His brain, however, is full of all the things that could go wrong. Jared threads shaky hands through his tacky, sweaty hair, twisting and pulling at the locks as if the action will remove all horrible possibilities from his mind.
“Tell me you don’t need a drink that bad.” Chris grabs Jared’s arm, eyeing the still quivering hand.
Jared wants to pull away, and in his mind, rightfully rip Chris a new one, but he can’t seem to muster the energy anymore and his knee would quite possibly betray him if he tried. He’s drained, emotionally and physically. Judging by the way Chris is staring at him, Jared knows that Chris can see it all too clear.
“Smoke,” Jared whispers, pulling his hand away and clenching his fist to stop the tremors.
“Yeah, Sandy told me you picked up the habit,” Chris smirks in mirror to Jared’s pensive frown. Chris’ hand claps him on the shoulder, squeezing the muscle there in friendly affection. “Welcome to the team.”
Jared manages a smirk at that and follows Chris out onto the small deck.
XXXX
The butane flame flickers weakly. Jared’s going to need to buy a new lighter the rate he’s been smoking. Chris settles down on the plastic deck chair and pulls out his Pall Malls. Not Jared’s first choice, but it’ll do. He lights one for himself and leans over to light Chris before taking a place against the ledge of the deck.
“This calm you down?” Chris asks, cigarette pinned between his teeth.
Jared nods, studying the grass below them. “Something to do, you know?”
Chris blows out a wispy stream of smoke and smiles lazily. “Now you just sound like Jensen.”
Jared turns around, sees the reminiscent look in Chris’ eyes and can’t bring himself to consider looking at the grass again. “Yeah?”
“Never seen somebody get so worked up when they supposed to be having fun,” Chris shakes his head, but the fondness in his voice is impossible to miss. “First time he had a network party, he smoked a whole pack of mine ‘til he puked. Told me the same thing. Something to do…”
“He doesn’t smoke much anymore,” Jared comments softly, nudging his bare toes into the wooden deck slats.
Chris flicks off the gathering ashes at the end of his cigarette. “Doesn’t have to.”
Jared meets Chris’ stare then, and clears his throat suddenly feeling all kinds of transparent. “I know better.”
Chris drops the cigarette on the deck and squashes it with the heel of his boot. “What we think is better and what actually is ain’t always the same thing. If you get me.”
Jared’s answer is simply an exhale of smoke and Chris interlocks his fingers, resting them against the back of his neck. “You said you lied to him.”
Jared shakes his head furiously, ignoring the rattling sensation of dizziness it brings. “No, I didn’t.”
Chris reaches out, smacking Jared’s arm to elicit the man’s attention. “You can’t say something like that to me and leave me hanging. Tell me so I won’t kill ya later when Jensen finds out the hard way.”
“You’d tell him before he had the chance,” Jared returns and smirks when Chris laughs in agreement. “It’s stupid.”
Chris’ countenance turns solemn. “Doubt it.”
“I-I told him I wanted to marry Sandy,” Jared admits, flicking his cigarette to the deck.
“She got a ring on her finger, don’t she?” Chris questions and Jared stares at his feet.
“We were drifting apart. And I didn’t want to think--I kept thinking, maybe it’s the distance. So, I should fix it. The distance I mean, that would make it better. Us being closer and all,” the words fly out of Jared’s mouth quickly and he pauses to catch his breath. “I messed up before…before-“
“You fell for Jensen?” Chris interjects and Jared nods, blinking back the burning behind his eyes.
“My mom couldn’t even look at me for a week,” Jared mutters, breath leaving a lot faster than it was coming. “My family loves Sandy. She’s perfect.”
“Ever consider perfect for them ain’t perfect for you?” Chris inquires bluntly, standing and making his way toward the sliding door.
“I can’t choose between them,” Jared argues, stomping out the cigarette roughly. “This is better for everybody.”
Chris shrugs his shoulders. “You talk to Jensen bout it?”
Jared gapes in muted horror. “He doesn’t know about...He doesn’t know and I’m not going to dump my shit on him like that.”
“Then you don’t know if it’s better for everybody or not,” Chris argues, gesturing for Jared to get inside the house. “C’mon, eat something, and we’ll go.”
XXXXX
The first thing Jared sees when the elevator doors slide open is Sandy looking as guilty as Judas Iscariot. He averts his gaze, and barrels down the hallway toward the waiting room. Jared knows she’s following him, and probably using Chris as a fucking body shield, but he’s too preoccupied with Jensen’s well being to care.
Alan is in the doorway to the waiting room as Jared turns the corner. He smiles and Jared is fairly certain that he hasn’t seen that expression cross the elder Ackles in ages.
“Thank you,” Alan whispers shakily, and embraces Jared in a fierce hug. Jared returns the gesture, but doesn’t understand why all the shit he pulled is worth a thanks.
“Heard Jensen woke up,” Jared states, pulling away from Alan, eyes searching Jensen’s father’s face for details.
Alan nods, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah, they started those new antibiotics and uh, they seemed to be working. So, they reduced the sedative too. His fever dropped. Donna and I were in there with him. Never thought I’d be happy to see my son scared, Jared.”
“Scared?” Jared glances past Alan, staring out at the small family crowd over the man’s shoulder. Might as well ask the entire group, because scared is not the reaction Jared wanted to hear.
“Doctor said that’s normal coming out of something like that. Disorientation and all.” Donna comforts from the back corner. “They let us stay in there most of the morning. He woke up better the second time, only a few minutes, but still it’s something, right?”
Jared rolls his bottom lip under his teeth, casting a stare over his shoulder to the traitorous duo behind him. “Yeah, it is. Can I-I mean, is someone in there now? Or-you know?”
Donna’s small smile fades and Alan clears his throat. Jared looks between the two, trying to ignore the cold sweat beading on his palms and forehead. Jensen’s gonna have hell to pay for turning him into a nervous wreck.
“His fever spiked earlier this afternoon,” Alan reveals and Jared’s stomach churns violently. “Not a lot. But enough that the doctor’s want to make sure he doesn’t have a…uh…”
“Secondary infection,” Donna interjects softly.
“Yeah,” Alan nods, “Sorry, son. But the doctors said that until they figure that out, he’s going to postpone visiting hours. Trust me, none of us are too happy about that. But if it’ll help Jensen then…”
Jared wordlessly holds up his hands to stop Alan’s rambling. Alan steps out of the doorway and Jared knows he should take a seat next to the family and join in the vigil. The rage pulsating through his body won’t let him. He turns on his heels, opening his mouth to scream when he sees Chris and Sandy pressed against the far wall looking ready to bolt.
Nothing comes out, his brain can’t form the words his heart so desperately wants to let loose. He doesn’t even chide himself for wanting to kill them, nor congratulate himself for not doing so when he flees toward the stairway exit.