Chapter 13: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead (J2, NC-17)
Fic title: Past the Garden Shed and Straight Ahead
Artist name: amberdreams
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: past domestic abuse, sexual language, non explicit sex, cussing, Chad
Back to full description and chapter index.
***
It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t bear to let Jensen go.
Jensen clucked about him with gentle touches and gentler words. He had driven them back to Jared’s apartment after the hospital had applied a cast to Jared’s ankle then helped him onto the couch, found his remote and set up his games with a controller to hand. He gave him his meds and produced a chicken broth from goodness knows where. It reminded Jared of something. “Where' d Christian go?” he slurred.
Jensen stopped fussing with his pillows, “Why?”
“I’s jus weird. Jus’ *poof* n’ he’s gone.”
“Man, they gave you the good stuff. Chris *poofed* away to cover an event for our mother. She can be difficult but she has a way of getting what she wants and we love her anyway.”
“Ah he’s safe.”
“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t he be?”
Was’t a bet? Him n’you?”
“Jared, we both date who we want to date. I was jealous and pissed with him when I found out but it wasn’t a prank. He likes you, and he doesn’t do relationships.” Jensen shrugged. “What can I say? He gets his good looks from my side of the family and his douchebaggery from his father.”
“ ‘kay. But you sh’d go. No datin’. Not safe.”
“Jared, you fell through my porch, which by the way, I feel awful about and you’ve every right to sue but it did have a huge yellow DANGER sign. “
“No, s’faeries. Not s’posed to date. Please. Go. Please.” His plea was heartfelt, he felt like he was going to cry for real this time and it would be ugly.
“We had this conversation, literally this morning. You told me it wasn’t faeries.”
“S’wrong. S’white stag. Go.”
“Jared you’re loopy on meds and I want to respect you, really I do, but you bumped your head on your way down and somebody has to be here. If it makes you feel better to not be dating, then we’re not dating. I am a concerned employer whose gardener fell through my porch floor and I don’t want to be sued. Does that make you feel better?”
Good enough, thought Jared, but his heart hurt more than his broken ankle, “ ‘Kay.”
They played FIFA and Jensen won. The strong meds began to wear off and Jared was in pain and distracted. He worried about being useless, wondered where the paperwork was for his insurance, and how he was going to complete all the work he had booked. Summer was busy for everyone in the trade. He fretted that something bad might happen to Jensen because he had been selfish and chased his own pleasure, ignoring what he had been warned about, all his life.
Jensen ordered in pizza. “You’re worrying. I can tell,” he spoke between mouthfuls.
“I don’t know how I am going to do it. It’s just me and Chad. How will we complete the work for you? For anyone?”
“Chad said something about an Aldis Hodge and how his ass should be good for business. He’ll be over later. Also, you are insured, and I am insured.” He leaned close enough for Jared to smell the garlic on his breath, “And I wanted you for your mind, not your body. Somebody needs to pull the strings together on our project.”
Jared had collaborated with Aldis a few times, on civic work, he was a cheerful hard worker with talent for floral art. Chad had made a good choice. He nodded, relieved, “He creates great flowerbeds, if you wanted us to plan anything with a family crest or clock or something.” He had a sudden idea. “We could have flowerbeds in the design of flower fairies for your trail, if you wanted.”
“See! A beautiful mind! Include it.”
He filed the idea away, well aware that he might not be around to complete anything if his faerie contract was called in. He remembered the moose, weeks earlier and the appearance of the white hart had left him in no doubt, he had been given a warning. It wasn’t something to worry Jensen about. To protect him he had to maintain a strict business relationship from now on.
Jensen nagged him to rest. He couldn’t be bothered to try and arrange his plaster cast in his bed so he chose to stay on the sofa and catch whatever sleep he could, while Jensen slept in his bed.
The next day he woke, sweaty and rumpled, from a nightmare in which his father snatched his precious china tea set and berated him for acting like a girl, before smashing it against the wall, until all that was left was a smear of red juice. The smear grew, deepened and dripped until there was nothing but a pool of blood and his father, gasping blue in the centre. He could almost feel the soft fur of a rabbit in his arms, and somehow he knew it was white, but however hard he looked, he couldn’t see it.
He remembered the tea set. He had loved it and his father had hated it “because boys shouldn’t play with girl toys”. He was sure his father hadn’t smashed it. In fact, he thought he remembered playing with it, the day his father died. He shook sleep off, he needed a pee and the distance to the toilet seemed a lot further when you were on crutches.
It was already light and Jensen was gone. He’d left Jared’s meds, with a glass of juice and a note, on the kitchen counter. The coffee machine was set up and ready to brew. Jensen had got to know him very quickly.
He unfolded the note, ‘Rest. Stop worrying, Try not to poke things into your cast to scratch. Fli will be over to work with you.’
Damnit! Now his ankle itched! He searched for something to sate the maddening impulse and groaned in relief when an old chopstick did the job. “I hate you, Jensen Ackles,” he muttered into an empty kitchen, but of course, he didn’t.
Right on cue, Felicia arrived, with her arms full of books and a flask of home made soup. “How are you, darling?” Her substantial pile of books made a thud as she placed them on his table. She didn’t waste any time in getting to the point. “We can spend an afternoon talking about sparkly stones, wood carvings and flowers, or we can acknowledge the elephant in the room. Jensen told me what happened. If you saw a white stag and you truly believe that it is linked to your betrothal, then I would say that it is essential you face up to it. Once faerie magic is set into motion it can cause devastation. The magic is in the contract and even a faerie is helpless to prevent it without the right steps being taken. Jensen also told me that that you don’t think you can go back for your quest. We may be able to resolve that.”
“How would you know all that?”
“I read a lot, I study. Magic can never be taken lightly. Faerie magic, doubly so.”
“Are you some sort of witch?”
“Definitely not, though I can weave minor healing spells.”
Jared perked up at that, “Can you fix my ankle?”
“Nature has its own spell for that. Given time, it will knit. I can give you a tincture to hasten it though.” She scribbled a note to remind herself.
She’s batshit crazy, he thought, like me, his mind added involuntarily.
She sat heavily on the couch beside him and he winced as his leg was painfully jostled. “Tell me everything. Including the details you didn’t tell Jensen.”
“What?”
“If you’re certain that the white hart is significant then it implies that this is not the first time you have seen one, or at least white animals in general, and I bet they accompanied a life event or turning point.”
How did she know?
“I’m impressed,” he admitted.
“Then let’s not waste time.”
He recounted everything, all over again, this time including the white rabbit which visited during his childhood and the white moose the day he had met Jensen. He described his mother’s ramblings and his own dreams. Felicia took copious notes of it all. He was emotional and exhausted when he finished.
She checked the time and patted him on the back. “You look socked. Have a nap. I am going to read through my notes and do some research,” she tapped her enormous book pile. “Then, we’ll make a plan. No time like the present,” she smiled prettily, before adding mysteriously, “Except maybe, the past.”
This time his sleep was dreamless.
***
Next Chapter
Artist name: amberdreams
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: past domestic abuse, sexual language, non explicit sex, cussing, Chad
Back to full description and chapter index.
***
It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t bear to let Jensen go.
Jensen clucked about him with gentle touches and gentler words. He had driven them back to Jared’s apartment after the hospital had applied a cast to Jared’s ankle then helped him onto the couch, found his remote and set up his games with a controller to hand. He gave him his meds and produced a chicken broth from goodness knows where. It reminded Jared of something. “Where' d Christian go?” he slurred.
Jensen stopped fussing with his pillows, “Why?”
“I’s jus weird. Jus’ *poof* n’ he’s gone.”
“Man, they gave you the good stuff. Chris *poofed* away to cover an event for our mother. She can be difficult but she has a way of getting what she wants and we love her anyway.”
“Ah he’s safe.”
“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t he be?”
Was’t a bet? Him n’you?”
“Jared, we both date who we want to date. I was jealous and pissed with him when I found out but it wasn’t a prank. He likes you, and he doesn’t do relationships.” Jensen shrugged. “What can I say? He gets his good looks from my side of the family and his douchebaggery from his father.”
“ ‘kay. But you sh’d go. No datin’. Not safe.”
“Jared, you fell through my porch, which by the way, I feel awful about and you’ve every right to sue but it did have a huge yellow DANGER sign. “
“No, s’faeries. Not s’posed to date. Please. Go. Please.” His plea was heartfelt, he felt like he was going to cry for real this time and it would be ugly.
“We had this conversation, literally this morning. You told me it wasn’t faeries.”
“S’wrong. S’white stag. Go.”
“Jared you’re loopy on meds and I want to respect you, really I do, but you bumped your head on your way down and somebody has to be here. If it makes you feel better to not be dating, then we’re not dating. I am a concerned employer whose gardener fell through my porch floor and I don’t want to be sued. Does that make you feel better?”
Good enough, thought Jared, but his heart hurt more than his broken ankle, “ ‘Kay.”
They played FIFA and Jensen won. The strong meds began to wear off and Jared was in pain and distracted. He worried about being useless, wondered where the paperwork was for his insurance, and how he was going to complete all the work he had booked. Summer was busy for everyone in the trade. He fretted that something bad might happen to Jensen because he had been selfish and chased his own pleasure, ignoring what he had been warned about, all his life.
Jensen ordered in pizza. “You’re worrying. I can tell,” he spoke between mouthfuls.
“I don’t know how I am going to do it. It’s just me and Chad. How will we complete the work for you? For anyone?”
“Chad said something about an Aldis Hodge and how his ass should be good for business. He’ll be over later. Also, you are insured, and I am insured.” He leaned close enough for Jared to smell the garlic on his breath, “And I wanted you for your mind, not your body. Somebody needs to pull the strings together on our project.”
Jared had collaborated with Aldis a few times, on civic work, he was a cheerful hard worker with talent for floral art. Chad had made a good choice. He nodded, relieved, “He creates great flowerbeds, if you wanted us to plan anything with a family crest or clock or something.” He had a sudden idea. “We could have flowerbeds in the design of flower fairies for your trail, if you wanted.”
“See! A beautiful mind! Include it.”
He filed the idea away, well aware that he might not be around to complete anything if his faerie contract was called in. He remembered the moose, weeks earlier and the appearance of the white hart had left him in no doubt, he had been given a warning. It wasn’t something to worry Jensen about. To protect him he had to maintain a strict business relationship from now on.
Jensen nagged him to rest. He couldn’t be bothered to try and arrange his plaster cast in his bed so he chose to stay on the sofa and catch whatever sleep he could, while Jensen slept in his bed.
The next day he woke, sweaty and rumpled, from a nightmare in which his father snatched his precious china tea set and berated him for acting like a girl, before smashing it against the wall, until all that was left was a smear of red juice. The smear grew, deepened and dripped until there was nothing but a pool of blood and his father, gasping blue in the centre. He could almost feel the soft fur of a rabbit in his arms, and somehow he knew it was white, but however hard he looked, he couldn’t see it.
He remembered the tea set. He had loved it and his father had hated it “because boys shouldn’t play with girl toys”. He was sure his father hadn’t smashed it. In fact, he thought he remembered playing with it, the day his father died. He shook sleep off, he needed a pee and the distance to the toilet seemed a lot further when you were on crutches.
It was already light and Jensen was gone. He’d left Jared’s meds, with a glass of juice and a note, on the kitchen counter. The coffee machine was set up and ready to brew. Jensen had got to know him very quickly.
He unfolded the note, ‘Rest. Stop worrying, Try not to poke things into your cast to scratch. Fli will be over to work with you.’
Damnit! Now his ankle itched! He searched for something to sate the maddening impulse and groaned in relief when an old chopstick did the job. “I hate you, Jensen Ackles,” he muttered into an empty kitchen, but of course, he didn’t.
Right on cue, Felicia arrived, with her arms full of books and a flask of home made soup. “How are you, darling?” Her substantial pile of books made a thud as she placed them on his table. She didn’t waste any time in getting to the point. “We can spend an afternoon talking about sparkly stones, wood carvings and flowers, or we can acknowledge the elephant in the room. Jensen told me what happened. If you saw a white stag and you truly believe that it is linked to your betrothal, then I would say that it is essential you face up to it. Once faerie magic is set into motion it can cause devastation. The magic is in the contract and even a faerie is helpless to prevent it without the right steps being taken. Jensen also told me that that you don’t think you can go back for your quest. We may be able to resolve that.”
“How would you know all that?”
“I read a lot, I study. Magic can never be taken lightly. Faerie magic, doubly so.”
“Are you some sort of witch?”
“Definitely not, though I can weave minor healing spells.”
Jared perked up at that, “Can you fix my ankle?”
“Nature has its own spell for that. Given time, it will knit. I can give you a tincture to hasten it though.” She scribbled a note to remind herself.
She’s batshit crazy, he thought, like me, his mind added involuntarily.
She sat heavily on the couch beside him and he winced as his leg was painfully jostled. “Tell me everything. Including the details you didn’t tell Jensen.”
“What?”
“If you’re certain that the white hart is significant then it implies that this is not the first time you have seen one, or at least white animals in general, and I bet they accompanied a life event or turning point.”
How did she know?
“I’m impressed,” he admitted.
“Then let’s not waste time.”
He recounted everything, all over again, this time including the white rabbit which visited during his childhood and the white moose the day he had met Jensen. He described his mother’s ramblings and his own dreams. Felicia took copious notes of it all. He was emotional and exhausted when he finished.
She checked the time and patted him on the back. “You look socked. Have a nap. I am going to read through my notes and do some research,” she tapped her enormous book pile. “Then, we’ll make a plan. No time like the present,” she smiled prettily, before adding mysteriously, “Except maybe, the past.”
This time his sleep was dreamless.
***
Next Chapter