Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 19/24
Jensen’s fingers move swiftly over the keyboard. He’s calculating at speed, but it’s following a pattern and easy enough. He doesn’t like to think about the reasons he is doing this so he lets the numerical flow overtake him. Misha’s task is completed in Nevada and he returns home tomorrow.
Jared takes a break from his laptop, grateful that Jeff thought to bring an extra one home for Jensen. He stretches out and glances at the stack of Jensen’s envelopes and knows he has to read the day of the Linden fire sooner or later. He can gather his resolve but he needs a coffee first. He flits a hand briefly over Jensen’s screen to grab his attention and asks, “Coffee?” He smugly signs the word too. He’s been picking up fragments of ASL from Jensen over the last few days.
Jensen nods and puts up two fingers for a double shot and Jared tuts because it’s not advised with his meds. He’ll still make it that way. Jen has him twisted around his little finger.
It has been easier since the first day when Jensen and Jared made their together plan. It had tired Jensen to the point of total social withdrawal twice and Jared had to walk off his frustration with Sadie as his excuse. Jensen has had two appointments with Doctor Singh and met his speech therapist. Jared has had one session with his own counsellor which raised more questions than it answered.
Jensen and Jared ‘talk’ every day but they are only skimming the surface, restricted by lack of verbal communication and the tacit avoidance of the issues around the significant and troubled way that their history is tangled.
They have tackled the issue of money. Jensen has agreed not to leave coins or IOU notes in the kitchen and by the shower. They have worked out a contribution that Jensen can make to the household each week. It is carefully based on half of the utility bills and groceries. Jared has refused any rent because the house was a part of his grandmother’s bequest. For now, Jensen will keep a note of what is due and he can pay the balance when he has a job, or when Jared finally convinces him that the compensation payment in his safety deposit boxes is his to use, as needed.
They don’t mention the past or consider the future. They are rooted in the now and their present is sexually charged to a degree that is undoubtedly unhealthy. Jared isn’t sure how to define their relationship and wonders if the same question ever bothers Jen. Every night Jensen comes to his bed and Jared lets him. He encourages a man, who was his obsessive stalker for two years, to tie him up, hold him down, touch him, lick him taste him, use his mouth and come on his skin. He hasn’t told Jensen that he fantasized about this. In the days after discovering the existence of his stalker, he had imagined Jen grabbing him in a dark alley, or taking him unexpectedly in the night. He had wanted Jen to push him to his knees and take him hard and dirty. He had displayed himself at his window, cock in hand, and it had felt powerful to tease him but there was a part of him that wanted to tempt Jen into action. It is too difficult to admit, he thinks he must be sick in the head.
Wherever they have been Jared hasn't once refused a touch, a kiss or a lick. Jensen hasn’t had full intercourse with him but he fucks into his mouth enthusiastically, grinds their bodies together and in the past two days has experimented, probing wet fingers into his ass and watching Jared squirm, moan and push down on them. When it’s over there are no hugs, no post-coital petting or idle chat. Sometimes Jensen will collapse asleep, curled into Jared’s side, others he will leave Jared, wash and return to his own bed. Jared likes it best when Jen stays, sweaty and sated, by his side, but Jensen shows no preference.
There’s the other elephant in the room. It is huge and as grey as the sooty ash that covered his hometown the day after the Becks explosion. Jensen works to transfer the illegal funds from Padalecki accounts to a holding account, but he hasn't been told the significance. He knows the practical mechanics but he hasn’t been told his own connection to the fraudulent activity or what Jared’s intention is. Jen has offered to be the one who lures Misha to his fate, but it wasn't explained to him why it will work better if it is him. Jared hasn’t told Jensen about the danger it will expose him to, and that it all started because Jared killed Josh Ackles. The Becks explosion may not have been his fault exactly, but he set up the scene and sent Jen’s brother to his death as surely as loading bullets into a gun and firing at his target. Josh had trusted Jared and without that, none of the rest of their awful plot could have worked. How can Jensen trust Jared once he knows that? How can Jared trust Jensen not to take his own revenge?
Jared sets a mug of coffee by Jensen’s side and Jensen minimises his screen and puts down his laptop. He pats the space by his side and licks his lips. His eyes glimmer emerald in the early afternoon light and his freckles stand out, as golden as the shine of his hair. He holds out a hand to Jared and gives an encouraging nod, “Tch” he says.
Jared knows it is an invitation to participate in something that Doctor Singh has suggested. There’s a lot of annoying, trivial or uncomfortable things that the doctor has suggested but this particular exercise he loves. It makes Jensen nervous but it is surprising how quickly he is accepting it.
“You want me to touch?”
“mhm.”
“I want to do something differently. Can I do something different? You let me once, in Kindergarten.” Jared asks.
Jensen answers with a nod but he sits stiff with anxiety as Jared reaches his hand slowly to his face. He smoothes his thumb over Jensen's defined cheekbones, trying to ignore worry lines that crease on Jen’s brow. He lifts the pad of his forefinger and delicately places it on the bridge of Jen’s nose where a burst of tan freckles lie, “One,” Jared moves his finger a fraction, “Two.” He continues until Jensen is used to it and becomes blithely relaxed about the touch. Jared reaches 201 and declares it an accurate freckle count of his face and neck. Jensen lets Jared cup his face and dip in for a brief kiss. It feels like real progress.
Jensen drinks the rest of his coffee and takes his meds. Jared asks his permission to read his diary and specifies the dates. It seems a huge intrusion of privacy but it never seems to bother Jen, “iss,” he says as he nods. He’s getting closer to real words every day. Jensen consults his journal and then waves a temporary goodbye as he goes to his studio room for some alone-time. Jensen will probably spend the time washing every surface of the room and then scrub some more. The first two days Jared had tried to stop him cleaning, told him he would put Lorretta out of a job. It only served to make Jen jumpy and anxious. Now they have a compromise. Jensen can clean his studio whenever he likes but he doesn’t clean anywhere else. Jared won’t disturb him.
He sits in the corner of the couch and opens the envelope. He’s not sure what he’s hoping to see but he finds the day of the Linden fire and there is a sketch of the Linden building in dark shadow, the rough outline of a car and a list on the page.
Porsche Cayenne 2011
cool grey 6,
Sure enough the license plate is Jeff’s.
It shows the slightest lick of flames at the South corner and the dark shape of a man. It’s drawn with an HB 2 and everything is rough and sketchy in grey on white. The only real detail is the description of the car. Jared doesn’t know how he feels about it. He picks at the corner before turning the page, curious to find out Jensen’s frame of mind the next day.
The days following the fire are an eye opener when seen through Jensen’s eyes. He keeps reading but is halted in his tracks by an interim entry labelled ‘night’. There is no date and it is an exceptional anomaly. He re-reads it with concentration, then re-reads again, and collects bourbon, which he gulps in one swallow, before reading it again. Between two and three in the morning someone entered his office, moving through the corridor and halting again at Jeff’s office before the lights went out. No alarms sounded and security weren’t alerted. One car exited out of the Padalecki Inc. basement and came to a halt just outside the garage. The make and license plate identify it as Misha’s car. Someone else walked through the gate at the same time, took an envelope from Misha, banged the top of his car and got into another car parked on the street outside the building. It wouldn’t be remarkable if it wasn’t for the stranger’s car and its license plate. Jared has seen it before. It belongs to the local P.D. and is driven by a forensics officer who is working on the Linden investigation.
Jared flicks the pages back and starts again. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for but at least he now thinks he knows one of the people he is looking for. He flips his cell phone up and texts a message to Jim Beaver.
Jeff is looking devastated when he returns home. “I have looked everywhere for the documents. Misha boasted about the existence of his ‘emergency’ account often enough. Fuck! I know the damn thing exists but he’s hidden it deep or he’s hidden it at home, in that stupid steel cabinet, and there’s no way of getting to it. I had to send Alona on a pointless trip to the printers to keep her away from his office. I have gone through every piece of paper twice.”
“Well we’re done here.” Jared pales but he’s determined. “We don’t need it, we can bluff.”
“He can read us Jared. He’ll know.”
Jared huffs and turns his hand idly looking at his nails, “I found one of his dirty cops. We can work on that.”
“It’s not going to frighten him. We’re not enough to frighten him. Even Jim is less scary than the bastards he works for. I’m not torturing Misha. I’d rather be someone’s prison bitch.”
There’s a hand on Jared’s arm and he jumps. Jensen hasn’t lost the ability to appear from nowhere, silently and without warning. Jeff is startled too, “Dude, warn a guy. You’re a fuckin’ ninja.”
He’s scribbling in his notebook. I can get it.
Jeff tries to hide his amusement. He speaks to Jensen as if he is a child, “And even if you are a ninja, I don’t see you being able to break into Misha’s house to magically unlock his secure cabinet.”
“No, Jen, it’s too dangerous,” Jared’s words are refusing the offer but Jeff can see that the possibility is running circles in his mind and he’s stunned by the knowledge.
“Look. None of us has a diploma in breaking and entering so we’ll just toss that idea out of the window shall we?”
“Jeff.” There’s a note of warning from Jared and then Jared is talking to Jensen again. “How sure are you?”
“I can’t believe …”
They both turn to shush Jeff.
The pen scrawls, 100%. He changes his alarm code every month and he uses a formula.
“What is he talking about Jared?” Jeff’s looking between them, at their unspoken communication and he looks worried and slightly sick.
“He can do it.”
Jensen writes as Jeff crowds Jared to get a look at the pad too, asking, “How do you know that?”
“Because he’s done it before, okay? Jen broke into a bunch of houses when he was a kid and he broke in here, picked the lock on my office and cracked my safe the night you beat me up. ”
Jeff is taking a step back from his brother. He’s having trouble processing the information.
“You let him live here, knowing he’s done that? What else is he capable of bro?”
There’s a loud hum, and they both turn back to Jensen. It is hard for him to follow their involved conversation. He’s been ignoring it to write his own question,You think Misha hired someone to kill me, don’t you? The paper is angled so both brothers can see it.
Jared swallows. He should have known that Jensen wouldn’t be fooled for long. “Why would he?” is all he can manage.
More writing, I see things. I write them down. Then, because it wasn’t Jeff at Linden, not tall enough, wrong colors. Also, Jeff and Jared look over his shoulder as he finishes the sentence. I know what you all did to Josh.
There’s silence. What is there to say?
Jared moves between his brother and his lover, he’s waiting for Jeff to explode, or maybe a third world war, perhaps the apocalypse. The silence reaches the corners of the room. It is all-pervading.
The scrape of the ball pen breaks the quietness. I like it here with you. I don’t want to die.
Jared doesn’t know if he’s more shocked by Jen’s apparent calm about Becks or because Jensen likes being here with him. Or maybe he feels like a terrible partner because Jen has been scared and unable to share his worries. It doesn’t add up and it gives him mixed feelings.
Jeff finally forces some words out, “So you’re saying you want revenge, that’s why you want to do this? What about Jared? What about me?”
Jen’s brow furrows, he looks like he genuinely doesn’t understand the question, or why it would be asked. He shakes his head and writes again. We only have tonight. I need my tools. We have to change our plan.
A fresh silence bounces from the walls before Jared decides he is going to use Jensen’s strategy. He’s going to ignore emotions and painful truths. He’s storing up a stack of trouble but there was already a burgeoning heap of it, what’s a little more? He rubs his hands together and speaks. “I guess you’ll tell us when you’re ready. Okay, not much time to plan. Shall we get started?”
Jeff has no argument, he nods dumbly.
Jensen keys in the fourth number of Misha’s code as the rapid bleep of the warning timer sounds. There are lights on at the house next door and a dog’s bark travels through the thin night air. He has a minute to enter the code and only thirty seconds has passed. The fourth digit appears on the LCD display and then the unthinkable. Code error. There are now twenty eight seconds left before the alarm sounds at the private security office and there’s a text to Misha’s cell. There’s no time to second guess, he’s already seeing the numbers scrolling in his head, applying the formula, estimating that Misha has made one additional change and praying that he didn’t alter his method. The bleep seems louder and faster as the seconds tick by and his heart is speeding, racing in time with it. He doesn’t let it distract him. He’s absorbed in the task, working to the plan. The timer hits ten and he hits the key pad for the third digit of the estimated code, he flexes his feet, ready to run. Jensen almost fumbles the fourth but then it’s there and there is sudden thick silence. He can’t take another breath until he knows. The display changes to unarmed and he gulps in air. He checks his gloves and makes sure his bag is flush to his side and then gives the all clear to Jared who waits in the shadows of a large tree.
Inside, the polished wooden floors echo even the softest socked footsteps and Jared is not stealthy. There’s a hum and soft light where a kaleidoscope of exotic fish dazzle as they drift and dart through the crystal clear depths of a large tank. Jensen stops in awe. He puts a gloved palm flat to the glass and he’s hypnotized by the countless hues of a myriad colors. Untold Pantone numbers scroll in lists through his mind. He’s not sure how long he is motionless and unreachable but there’s a squeeze on his fingers and he’s looking at shades of hazel concern.
“Jen, Jensen, c’mon.”
He shakes himself off, and before he can panic, he remembers that Jared can hold his hand. He trusts Jared.
Misha’s office door is a simple task. A pick-lock handles it smoothly. Jared keeps him focused. The brunette doesn’t allow him to get side tracked by the faint sandalwood scent, the glass sculpture on the desk or the oil painting on the wall.
This file cabinet is more difficult. It’s an elderly model but sturdy, and the locking mechanism was once the best there was to be had. Jensen is steady handed and methodical. There must be no evidence that they were here. There’s a chorus of disapproval loud in his mind which he drowns out with careful concentration and the reassuring presence of Jared, by his side. He reminds himself that he isn’t stealing and there is nobody here to frighten, nothing will be damaged. He hears Jared’s relieved exhale as the drawers are finally released and slide open smoothly on their runners. They choose a set of files each and start their search. Forty minutes later it is a non-descript piece of paper that Jared finds but there is enough to identify the Antiguan Bank and everything they need. Jen carefully transcribes all the data into his journal and then there is the painstaking task of ensuring that everything is left just-so. There is dust that has been disturbed on the top of the cabinet so Jen takes a moment to blow it back into a realistic layer.
They have almost reached the front door when a security patrol cruises onto the street and makes slow progress with bright lights that probe through unshuttered windows. The flight reflex hits Jensen with a surge of pure adrenalin, stay in the shadows, don’t draw attention boy, and he’s diving to the floor below the windows. He brings down Jared with a grab of the tall man’s ankles that has him hitting the floor without grace and whimpering with the pain. Then Jared is clinging to him, and Jen is letting him, hanging on just as tightly. They stay motionless, stiff with worry, sweat pouring, until the car completes its circuit with tortuous slowness and drives away. They stay frozen for what seems like an age before they pick themselves up and leave. They close the door, reset the alarm and creep away in the dark.
There’s an awkward atmosphere when the evening is over. Nobody talks about it. Jeff, Jared and Jensen go to their own beds early, but Jared isn’t sleeping. The mattress puffs air as he turns in the bed yet again and checks his clock, 3:00 a.m.
Jared gives up. He slips on a tee-shirt with his boxers and goes to make some cocoa. He’s staring into the swirl of chocolate when Jeff pads in and grabs a mug to do the same. “I can’t sleep either,” he says.
Jared warms his hands on his mug, “Maybe there’s something on TV,” he suggests.
They settle with the TV on quietly, Jared flicks through the channels but in the end they leave it on MTV, watching some sort of classic rock countdown.
Eventually Jeff speaks, “What are you going to do about Jen?”
“How do you mean?”
“Everything, all of this subterfuge. You have Jim so you knew who Jen was. How much more did you know? You’re using him, right? Hot sex, housebreaking, catch Misha, save me. What happens next? Does he disappear?”
Jared sits up straight. He is suddenly alert. “This isn’t a soap opera. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Why would I do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you? It’s not like he can stick around if he knows everything. Why do you think he’s working with us? I’m not buying into the epic love story of Jensen and Jared. I’m living in the same house as you man, and he doesn’t let you touch him outside sex. There’s no affection from him and he looks like he hates you even being close to him. I know you Jare, you’re the most touchy-feely dude ever.”
There are no words to describe the way he cares for Jen or the little things Jensen does which Jared just knows are because he cares for him. “I can’t make people disappear,” is all he says.
“No, but Jim can and you’re not telling me you aren’t prepared for Jen to double cross us.”
“He’s not like that.”
“Tell me little bro, what is he like? You can kid yourself that you’re not using him but he is using you. Has he given you any explanation for the way he’s stalked us? Do you even know how many times he’s broken in to our homes? He was very accomplished at Misha’s tonight. ”
“What would he be using me for? He hasn’t touched his compensation. He doesn’t need our money or our charity.”
“I don’t know. Nothing good. We can’t trust him. Tell me you know that, at least.”
Jared is weary and his brother won’t let the subject go unless he hears what he wants Jared to say. He has no reason to put faith in Jensen and his gut instinct won’t be enough to placate Jeff. “Of course I don’t trust him.”
It is only a little white lie. He gulps the last mouthful of his drink, yawns and stretches. He catches sight of a shape near the kitchen and turns quickly. Jen stands there, looking at them with blank expression and a glass in his hand before he rushes back to his studio room and crashes the door shut.
“Shit!” Jared chases after him, but stops at the door. He knocks but doesn’t enter. It’s one of Doctor Singh’s boundaries, their bedrooms are private and there is an agreement that Jared will not enter without permission. There was supposed to be a similar rule about Jared’s space, but he has never implemented it. He knows he won’t ever enforce it.
“Jen. Let me in.”
There is no answer to any of his pleas and the door stays shut. Jared sinks to the floor and waits with his head in his hands. Jeff steps across him to go to his own bed. “Give it up,” he says.
At four thirty Jared gives up, “Jen. Are you listening? I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t think before I open my mouth. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t run away. We can work it out. You can be pissed at me. You can even leave if you want to, but don’t do it without making a plan. You need somewhere safe and warm to stay. Jen? I’m going back to my bed. You can come to me, you know that, right?”
There’s never been a more terrible silence.
When Jared wakes from a fitful sleep Sadie is waiting in the hallway with her leash and tennis ball, ready for her morning walk with Jared. Jensen’s door is closed. There’s fresh coffee in the pot and a note on the kitchen surface with a schedule attached. The words are stark black on white paper. I made a new plan.
Part 20
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