Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 22/24
Jeff and Jared’s cab turns from the freeway two junctions before the airport and the driver navigates busy morning traffic to place them at the empty development where concrete walls have still to be covered and timber remains unpainted. There’s no work being carried out here today. The contractors have called a work stoppage, their firm in disarray as invoices remain unpaid. It makes the site just right for Jim’s purposes and he busies himself with cables and instructions. They can only wait and hope that their absence from the book-in and flight isn’t noticed by Misha or his associates. Jared picks at his fingernails before employing his time dusting the surfaces of the furniture in the show apartment and laying out sales literature in a realistic pattern.
Lorretta has cleared the breakfast dishes and made the beds with a loud tutting noise and then gone home, leaving Jensen and Sadie alone. There’s a sense of unreality, or another reality, as the hands of the clock continue to move and Jensen knows it is nearly time. He checks his journal again and runs the pad of his finger over the plan. He’s not sure how he will get through this but he owes it to Josh, Jeff, Jared and Grandma Padalecki. Even Misha should have his chance to explain what he has done.
The squeal of brakes announces the arrival of a yellow cab and he’s trembling with nerves because the hands of the clock haven’t yet reached the twelve, which means it is early. It isn’t supposed to be early. It’s the first stage in the plan and it’s already wrong, wrong, wrong.
A door slams and the doorbell rings. Jensen grabs his rucksack and Sadie presses close to his side. He puts one foot in front of the other and he walks until he’s at the door. His fingers pull it open, to reveal a smile and deep blue eyes. Misha offers a soft, elegant hand. Jensen looks at it blankly and Misha moves it back to his side. “I’m Misha,” he announces, “but you already know that. Jared asked me to help out, but you already know that too. I thought you might be nervous about the cab ride so I came on over with it.” Misha stretches a hand to stroke Sadie and the dog backs up slightly with a curl to her lip. Jensen places a reassuring hand on her head. Misha beckons them both.
Jensen freezes. He wants to run but he fakes a smile. With a single finger he indicates, one minute and then forces his limbs to move. He dashes back to his studio room, opens his journal and scribbles new words over the neat list he made the night before. He can do this. Doctor Singh said there would be days when he would have to make adjustments and that he would manage. He breathes deep, mentally numbers the colors of his drapes, and shuts his journal. He picks up the cell phone that Chris gave him. It is alien and confusing. He’s used the phone for texting once before, but he was calm that day. Today he is panicking and unsure and there is no time to find letters to form words. The contacts are in alphabetical order and Christian’s name is displayed on a reassuringly bright background. He presses send before returning to Misha with his new coat over his arm and his muted phone in its pocket. Jensen takes his time checking that the house is secure and sets the alarm. By the time he slams the front door closed the hands of the clock are in the right place. He trails behind Misha to the cab and the financial director holds the door open for him to get in.
Jared is pacing and Jeff curls his fist in annoyance. “Stand still!”
“It’s not like the floor will wear out.”
“It’s annoying.”
“So is your face.”
“Quit it you two, I’m trying to concentrate,” Ash snaps, without looking up from his laptop.
The brothers turn speechless glares on the scrawny computer geek. He doesn’t even notice. “S’better,” he comments about the sudden silence.
Jared’s attention is diverted as his cell phone vibrates. He’s supposed to be mid-flight so he won’t be answering it but he pulls it from his pocket anyway. Christian’s number lights up and Jared frowns because there’s no good reason for the man to be calling him. He lets it ring off but a text arrives, “Answer asshole.” He ignores it. A minute or so later he gets another text, “Hurt Jen, I’ll hurt you.” Something is wrong.
He glances at Jeff and Ash, “I have to take this.” Jeff shakes his head in despair as Jared steps outside.
Chris picks up on the first ring and there’s no stopping the tirade that assaults Jared’s ears. He waits for him to take a breath and then interrupts, “Jensen isn’t with me Chris. What the hell is up with you?”
“There’s no other explanation for it.”
“Calm down Chris! For what?”
“Don’t bullshit me. If I don’t like your explanation, my next call will be 911. I got two empty texts from Jen and then nothing. He’s not answering.”
In his peripheral view Jim is approaching him, his face is stone grey and lips are in a tense line. The taxi which had been organized for Jen had been pulled over and delayed by cops. Another taxi of the same color and model had picked up Jensen on time. The surveillance team hadn’t thought anything of it, until the correct car arrived. Ice strands travel Jared’s veins and squeeze at his heart. His world falls apart.
Jim snatches the phone from him and is calmly speaking to Chris about the times of the texts and the details of Jen’s cell. Chris is persuaded not to call 911 for now. GPS is mentioned but nothing is making sense. He hears Jim stress the word danger and there’s a mild threat made to Chris. Then they are on speaker phone, Jim and Ash are both talking to Chris and he seems to be co-operating. The security tape for Jared’s house is silently playing back and everything seems to stop for a moment as they find a sketchy view of the driver who called for Jensen.
“Whoa there,” exclaims Jim.
“Shit,” Jeff mutters.
“Fucking crazy-ass bastard!” Jared says, turning sheet-white when he recognizes Misha's silhouette with his face hidden from the security cameras.
Minutes stretch into infinity and there’s no indication of hope. “I have to go.” Jared can’t wait. He is striding to the door. He has to look, has to find Jen. Jeff catches a hold of him and swings him back against the wall. “What are you going to do? Where will you go? Idiot. Jim’s got this.”
“Jim shouldn’t have let this happen.”
“At least wait till he’s got Jen back, and he will Jay. He will find them.” Jeff is trying to sound convincing but his voice trembles.
“Fuck it!” The fight goes out of Jared and he sinks to the cold concrete floor with his hand in his head. “I told Jim not to tail Misha in case it spooked him. We’re following his known associates and instead Misha waltzes straight in? I didn’t think…Why would he do this? He’s not a stone-cold killer. He can’t be? Jeff? Surely he wouldn’t?”
“He might not be anything we’re accusing him of. Maybe they’re on the way over right now, telling frightful tales about you.”
“You don’t really believe that?”
Jeff doesn’t answer.
There’s a victorious crow from Ash, “Got it!” and he gives a route and direction.
There’s an “OK” from Chris and then, “But there’s nothing out there, just the railroad.” There’s a pause and then, “Shit. I’m closer than you. Going.” There’s no more from him.
Jim’s out of the door, holstering a gun as he moves. He points at Jared and Jeff, “Wait here!”
As soon as Jim’s back is turned Jared pats down a protesting Ash for his car keys and extracts them from his jeans pocket to a loud, “No!”
Ash watches them produce a cloud of rubber smoke as Jared wheel spins his beloved car onto the main street, “I better get a pay rise for this, bitches!” he yells after them.
There’s something scraping Jensen’s knees and the pressure on his neck and shoulders doesn’t let up. His arms ache and his hands are fixed behind his back. He’s trapped and hazy and panicking. He wants to scream but nothing comes out. Cloth stuffs his mouth and there’s only one color, black, 0000, no number, no comfort. The constraint is too much. He squeezes his eyes, but there are still no colors to distract him. His heart thuds against his ribs and he gasps, unable to breathe. The pressure ceases and he falls in a heap, to sharp, stony ground.
“Don’t tell me you can’t even die right.” The words whisper in a terrifyingly cheerful voice, over his ear, “Tell you what, here’s an incentive,” there’s the brush of warm fur on his fingers and a whimper from Sadie, don’t touch Sadie you sick son of a bitch, “You do as you’re told and Sadie won’t go freight hopping with you. I’ll find her a warm shelter somewhere. Of course you’re not going to land your jump on the train, so if you care about her, you should consider my offer. Take your time, there’s a few minutes until the next train is due.”
He can’t be here. It isn’t supposed to happen. The rocking starts but even that is restricted by ties and hands. He checks out.
Katie drives, she tries to remove the baseball bat from Chris’ hand but he won’t let go. He’s yelling instructions and she’s speeding fit to lose her license. There’s a truck yard by the railroad and sometimes hobos will freight hop the short distance between a parked truck and one on the main tracks, as the trains slow for the points. It’s a long shot but she screeches the tires of the van in a sharp right turn between the crossing and the tracks. Grit tears up behind them as she rides rough in the tight space to the yard and pulls up the van with a cloud of dirt when the shiny criss-cross of tracks prevents any further progress.
Jim’s SUV skids into the opposite end of the yard and Chris has his cell phone on blue tooth, talking to him. “Stay here!” Chris orders Katie but she gives him a hard stare and tells him to, “Fuck off, he’s my friend too.”
By the main railroad there are cattle carts, stretching for what seems like miles. Each has a sliding door that faces the live track. Some cars have a gaping space with the door wide open, others are closed. Chris throws the baseball bat to Katie. “Here!” and then they split up, stalking down the line to peer into each of them.
Metal buzzes with the vibration of a distant train and Christian catches sight of a movement three cars from where he’s standing. He’s running fast, only sparing a moment to indicate for Katie to move flat against the cars in the yard. There will barely be any room for safety between the stationary trucks and the speeding mass of freight when it passes. He grasps the side of the freight container door and swings up, but Misha’s fist is already there. He takes a knock on the chin that unbalances him, but he’s still coming. He’s bulkier than Misha and street-fit. The air is full of the thick smell of diesel and dust and there’s a rhythmic clatter that accompanies the vibration of the line.
Misha is twirling a knife, letting it glint in the light. He is hauling Jen half standing, half slumped in front of him and there is no room for Chris to make a mistake. His friend is blindfolded and there’s no indication that he is conscious. Misha uses Jen as a shield, dragging him to the place where daylight streams in and dust is swirling in the sunlight. In the distance a snaking train has appeared. Misha raises the knife to show Christian and then brings it behind Jen, sawing at the ropes that bind his hands. He rips off the blindfold and Jen’s eyes don’t open.
Jen is boneless and heavy in Misha’s hands and he’s being shuffled to the very edge of the doorway, Misha’s blue eyes meet Christian’s, “Happens all the time, unfortunate accidents when hobos try to catch a free ride.”
There’s a noise like thunder that drowns out the rattle of the tracks and all speech and thought. Wind whips through Jensen’s hair and his eyes dart open, wide and terrified. There are strong, lean arms reaching over the ledge of the car and there’s a confusion of limbs. A tall form with wild brunette hair dives on Jensen, propelling him backwards, into safety and the dark corner of the wagon.
Misha flails. Jared is shielding Jen in the corner of the freight car and Misha has Christian’s wrath to contend with if he wants to get to them. He hits out at Christian before staggering after the bodies strewn on the floor. A line of dark crimson appears and drips blood from Christian’s arm with a piercing hot pain, and he curses Misha’s knife. The light is blocked by a noisy blur which passes within yards of them with a rapid cha-chunk, cha-chunk, cha-chunk over the points. Christian leaps on Misha’s back and they are rolling and struggling for dominance. Chris has Misha’s wrist and is banging it on the surface of the car to make him drop the blade, but Misha shuffles and crawls, pulling away and then he’s gone, falling from the edge of their car as the last container of the speeding freight train passes by, leaving a rush of thick grit in the air and a fading cha-chunk, cha-chunk behind it.
For Jensen there is just the black, then there’s air like a hurricane and noise like a book, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,” Jen opens his eyes and there’s a void to fall into and heavy death that speeds too fast to capture its colors. He doesn’t like this reality. It doesn’t last, hands seem to come from nowhere, clutch at him and knock him into bruises and an echoing floor. He thinks there will be purples and reds, blues and yellows and aching pain but right now he’s being held down, uninvited. Nobody has the right and this time his hands are free. He pulls back his arm, flexes his fist and closes his eyes as knuckles connect with muscular abs and the person rolls off him with an “oof,” followed by, “Shit, Jen! Cavalry here!” in Jared’s familiar and warm tone. They roll together until they are backed up on the rear wall of the freight car. Sadie is here, lying drugged, whimpering and muzzled. Jared looms over them both, blocking all light, with his arms and legs starfish-splayed and body protective. Jen is frantic. He hits out and kicks at this new confinement. There’s a sharp cry as his feet connect with Jared’s shins but the big man is immoveable.
“Ow, ow, ouch. Kick all you like, but I’m not letting him near you, Jen.”
Jen’s head dips into his hands. The rocking starts.
Christian cautiously peers over the edge of the car, at the gap between the tracks. There’s a man running, he’s almost reached their car. His sheer size and his features are unmistakably Padalecki. Misha is on his hands and knees spitting blood and dirt, trying to get up. Christian thinks about jumping down after him but he’s reeling from shock and his first priority has to be Jen.
Jared has somehow managed to entirely cover Jensen’s rocking form. He’s like a mother hen with her wings out, and the comparison is so ridiculous that Christian’s hysterical laughter gathers and bursts from his chest. “Dude. Crazy person is gone. I think your brother has him.”
Jared gradually relaxes but Chris is not looking friendly. He’s almost relieved when Katie’s voice cuts through the air, shouting and swearing.
“Stay with Jen!” Chris instructs, before vaulting to the ground.
Katie has the baseball bat raised for a home-run swing. Misha is being held by the collar of his shirt and systematically beaten by Jeff’s huge fists. His face is a mess of purple, black and red swelling and dripping blood. What damage is under his clothes he can only imagine. Chris reaches out and grabs at the huge stranger, but he can’t haul his weight with his damaged arm. A solid punch to his chin seems to make no difference. “Bastard! Katie, hit him! Just, not on his head.”
Katie smacks the wooden club into Jeff’s arm and Chris manages to get purchase to separate them. He collapses back with Jeff heavy on top of him and Misha by his side. Katie stands over them all, bat raised in a double handed hold, “Don’t even think of moving, fuckers!”
Jim rolls up in characteristically laid back form and holsters his gun, “I would have lent a hand but I could see you had it under control. I hate to involve firearms where they’re not necessary.” Chris considers punching this new arrival, but Katie still has the baseball bat. He groans, “I’m going to need some solid explanations.”
Katie wiggles the bat in her hands, “And a frickin’ huge donation to the shelter if you want this kept quiet.” Everyone turns their head to her. Even Misha looks up, shocked. She flexes her arms, “Try me!” she says with intent, and Chris gives her a thumbs up.
“I’m sure Jared can arrange that. For now you should go to his house, with Jen, until we’re sure this is all over. There is security there,” Jim is speaking to Katie and Christian. He’s already on the move. So far there have been no witnesses but they shouldn’t stay long.
Jared gently maneuvers Jen into Ash’s car and there’s a strained atmosphere while he drives them to his home. Jen curls in the corner of the back seat, taking far less room than anybody could think possible for his size. He’s not communicating and won’t look at anybody but at least he has stopped rocking and trying to bang his head. Chris sits next to Jen and Katie glowers silently at Jared from the passenger seat. Sadie squashes into the foot well beside Jen and rests her snout unsteadily on his leg. She’s obviously been drugged but she’s beginning to waken. Jared thinks Ash is gonna be pissed because there’s dog vomit on the edge of the seat and on the carpet.
Chris keeps darting him angry looks and Jared thinks about the accusations he’s made.
“Chris, did Jen ask for your help learning to say something?”
“Oh, yeah!” the look Chris gives from the back seat is venomous.
“Did he explain anything about it?”
“He didn’t need to.”
Jared nods, understanding why Chris feels the way he does, “Figures,” he says, watching him in the rear view mirror. “That forgiveness? It was for something I did when I was a teenager. I was an asshole and it was appalling but it wasn’t deliberate. I would never hurt him now, in any way.”
“Just being involved with you seems to be enough,” Chris speaks bitterly.
“This is the end of it. I’ll make sure of it. You can keep me to that promise. Jeff can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind if one of you wants to stay in the spare bedroom until you're satisfied he’s okay.”
“If he doesn’t want to stay with you?” Chris is calmer now.
“If he doesn’t want to stay with me, then we will find somewhere suitable for him, and make sure he’s alright. Money isn’t an object.”
Jared pulls into his drive and kills the engine. He turns to look Chris in the eye. Chris holds out his hand to him, “Shake on it.”
Jared does.
Part 23
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