HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS Part 16
Warnings: This Chapter: None. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended
Detective Chad Michael Murray tidied the papers on the desk in front of him and stretched.
Jensen sat at an angle to the desk. He fingered the photographs, tipping them toward him. His face was overly pale, his shoulders and jaw set rigidly, his watery green eyes blinked a little too often.
“If I remembered anything else, I would have let you know.”
“I know Jen, we just wanted to take another angle y’know. We should break awhile.”
“No. I want to finish this so you can leave.”
“Jen. I need a break. Tom was my friend, we were friends, don’t you remember?” the words were spoken too harshly and he rubbed his hands over his face. “Damnit Jen. I’m not going to apologize because we’ve been dancing this dance for a almost a year now and one thing I know for sure is that Tom wouldn’t want this shit. Not the drinking, not the self-pitying, not the self-absorption, not the running away and certainly not forgetting who you are and cutting your friends out. So I am taking a break because I fucking need a chance to remember that somewhere in here” and Chad poked at Jensen’s chest “is someone I quite like.” He slammed his chair back against the wall and stormed to the door. “You are giving that bastard exactly what he wanted. He said he didn’t finish the job because he’d already killed you. He said he’d won the game. You know what. I think he did.”
“No” corrected Jensen, to the empty room “He said I lost the game.” He gazed into middle distance and added “I’m not sure he meant the same thing.”
Jensen waited for a few minutes and when Chad didn’t return he leaned across the table and tugged at the edge of the file that was just visible at the edge of his ex partner’s briefcase. He stared at the neat label, with case number and a recent date before licking the tip of his thumb and flipping it open.
****
Jared nodded at the Desk- Sergeant and collected his work from the photocopier.
“Hey Jay! Is it going to be a good one this year?”
“It sure will. Get ready to part with your cash.” He chuckled as he unpinned old notices from the board, rearranging the papers to make room for his freshly printed poster advertising the ‘Widows and Families Gala Event’.
They both jumped as the door of the interview room slammed, the noise reverberating. Detective Murray threw his ‘visitor’ tag onto the desk and made for the exit with a short explanation. “I need some air”
They glanced at each other without comment and continued with their tasks.
Jared had just finished on the Sports and Social Club notices when Jensen exited the interview room. The architect smiled and nodded toward him before registering the almost translucent quality of the older man’s skin. Jensen seemed to sway a little before his eyes rolled upwards and he crumpled toward the floor. His cane clattered noisily against the shiny tiled surface and a folder fluttered through the air, scattering photographs in an arc.
***
Chad was directed to the medical room where Jensen was lying on a cot with Misha watching over him.
“Jen”
Chad hurried to his side but Misha grabbed hold of his elbow and steered him out of the room. He was livid with the visiting detective and saw no reason to hide it. “You asked me to help get Ackles back on your case, then you come here, do this to him and just leave him alone? He’s not fit for duty. Any dumbass can see that. I don’t know what the hell you thought you were achieving but don’t you dare put it on me. Don’t you dare.”
“You don’t know him, you don’t know the case and it’s not your call to make. He was OK when I left him, you weren’t there” hissed back Chad.
“Nor were you, so it’s damn good job Jared caught him, wasn’t it?”
Misha shoved a jumbled file of papers at Chad “You’ll need to put this back together too.”
Jensen’s eyes flickered as he came to terms with the harsh overhead light. His nose burnt with the astringent smell of disinfectant and he was aware of voices arguing. He closed his eyes tight and concentrated on sorting through scrambled images. There was blood and guns, empty bottles and an empty bed but those weren’t from today. Today there was a building with a plaque and photographs and Chad. There was the sensation of falling into strong warm arms and the smell of sweet candy musk. He groaned. He’d fainted, like a great big girl and Jay, JT Padalecki, had caught him.
“Hey guys. Sick detective here.” Jensen reached an arm out to wave but only succeeded in knocking a water jug off the counter. “Fuck!”
“Gross. Wet legs here.” Chad hurried to place a beaker of water to Jensen’s lips.
“Y’OK.”
“Feel like crap Chad.”
“You could try drinking less alcohol and stealing fewer folders.” It was spoken with a laconic drawl.
“You should have told me. Should’ve been honest with me Chad. Don’t I deserve that ?”
“I’m a douche-bag and you’re no longer on this case Jenny boy. Them’s the rules. What am I s’posed to do?”
“You’re supposed to break the rules asshole.”
“Break them.” Misha spoke simultaneously.
Jensen raised himself on one elbow and turned to stare at Detective Collins “Fine words from the dickwad who gave me shit for asking to look at the Caitlin Doe file and refused because it’s the rules.”
Misha put his hands up defensively. “Yeah well that has never been your case.”
“Is now, Dickwad.”
Jensen had manoevred himself up and was sitting on the cot swinging his legs.
“So how many saw my elegant nose dive?”
“That would be Jared, Sarge and the security cameras and I have to say it wasn’t particularly elegant.”
Oh God” whined the ex-detective massaging his temples with his hand. Then he frowned a little “I’m curious. Just what is Jared doing here anyway?”
Misha knitted his brows and answered as if it were so obvious he had never really considered it.
“He’s our alpaca. Oh and he raises stupid amounts of cash for the Widows fund and takes stray dogs to the pound and makes coffee and stuff. ”
“Alpaca?”
“Like a Precinct mascot. One of the older guys will know. Supposedly he’s been a fixture here since he was 12 years old but that was before my time.”
“Well that’s all very interesting” interrupted Chad “but I’m wondering if you’re good to go again Jen.”
Jensen Ackles fixed a sad, serious gaze onto his friend and ex partner, “That depends if you’re prepared to come clean with me and start this over.”
“Tom’s dead Jen, we’ve moved on, the investigation has moved on, you can’t beat yourself up over this forever.”
Jensen tensed, his jaw clenched and his green eyes glittered with fury. “No. I saw the file Chad, I saw the photos. This is about a young fireman and his 8 year old nephew. Are you going to tell me how many more bodies we’re estimating are out there because I didn’t stick to my guns and insist they were a possibility? How many because I didn’t tell the profiler to go to hell when I knew. I knew Chad! Even when the Chief was insistent, even when Tom was screaming I didn’t honestly believe there was only one Player. I wanted to believe it. Heck I so wanted to believe it and I needed Tom to believe it. Do you even know?”
“No. How can I?” Chad said sadly. “We can start over though.”
“I made coffee. How is he?” Soft hazel eyes under a mop of brunette hair peered around the doorway.
“Apparently an alpaca caught me, so I’m fine Jay. Thanks bud.”
“Alpaca?”
Jensen just shook his head and pointed at Misha, as if that explained everything.
Continued in Part 17 here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/5714.html