Smoke & Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder [5/?]
Title: Smoke And Lightning, Heavy Metal Thunder (5/?)
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG all the way to NC-17 in future chapters.
Wordcount: 2,181
Summary: AU. Jared's a classic case of rich kid gone wrong, whose only sense of family comes from his motorbike, the guy he rents a garage from to live in and the precinct cops who know his face better than most already. Jensen's a hard-working student whose family are helping push him towards great things. What happens when their two worlds collide, and will Jared's troublesome nature be too much for Jensen to handle?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
CHAPTER FIVE
The study was quiet and tidy. Alan preferred everything that way, especially his home life. Everything was always in order. There were never any surprises.
That was why, when his son suddenly acted out of the ordinary, Alan was out of sorts. He, of course, had done his best with the boy. He’d given him everything that he hadn't had as a child and, for the past nineteen years, Jensen had acted exemplary. His grades were all A's, he had good morals and he was well liked by his teachers.
Alan just didn't understand where this sudden lack of responsibility had come from.
"Dad."
Alan didn't turn away from the window, recognizing his eldest child's voice.
"It's time to go."
He nodded his head at Josh. "Your brother?"
Josh frowned as he stood in the doorway of the study. "He...he's not here."
Setting his jaw in anger, Alan nodded again. He straightened the lapels of his suit jacket and turned away from the window. He smiled at Josh, over-friendly. "Well, then," he said, "let's get a move-on."
Josh watched him walk past, pausing long enough to pat him on the shoulder. He didn't know what Jensen was up to, but he hoped his brother made good. Dad could hold a grudge forever.
After gathering up Donna, Mackenzie and Josh's girlfriend, the two men of the house shepherded everyone out of the house. When they were down the front steps, they finally saw Jensen. The family all came to a halt, except Donna. She smiled and neared her son, clasping his hands in hers.
"Jensen, sweetheart," she whispered. "Where have you been?"
"I'm sorry, Mom," he apologized. "I was with Chris all weekend and we just got busy."
"With what, for Heaven's sake?"
He tilted his head, trying to come up with the quickest lie he could. "With the band," he finally said.
"Donna," Alan interrupted. He separated her and Jensen and gently pushed her away. "Go wait in the car, please."
"But, Alan."
"Now."
She knew not to push him. Quickly, she gave in and put her arm around Mackenzie. They, Josh and Cathy headed for the cars.
Alan remained motionless for only a moment and then, with anger in his eyes, turned towards his youngest son. Jensen was still in his school uniform, now wrinkled from overuse. There was the slightest of blondish-brown beard stubble on the boy's chin and he reeked of cheap deodorant. "Just what is it that you think you're pulling, young man?"
Jensen shook his head, gazing over at his father. "I don't think I'm pulling anything," he answered.
"Look at you," Alan snarled at him.
Jensen frowned and looked down at his wrinkled clothes. "I'm sorry, Dad," he returned. "I lost track of time."
"I don’t think that you expect me to believe that."
"Dad."
"I won't be seen with you like that."
"Fine," Jensen shrugged, his own anger starting to boil beneath the surface. "I won't go then."
"Alan?" Donna called. She had stepped from inside the vehicle to urge them on.
Turning, Alan looked over at his wife, attempting a reassuring smile. "Alright, dear," he said to her, waving her back into the car. He turned back to Jensen and pointed a finger in his face. "You're not getting out of church just because you were ignorant. Get in the car. And I don't want to hear a peep out of you."
Jensen suppressed a sigh. He followed his father to the car, shoved himself in the back seat and gazed out the window on the drive to church. Neither Mom or Dad talked; the ride was painfully silent. Church was equally uncomfortable. Jensen sat closest to the large stained-glass windows, his father on the aisle side of the pews. Just as well; he preferred to be as far away from the man as possible for the time being. He felt like everyone's eyes were on him, but the most important gaze was from his father. He could almost feel the anger as a solid presence, could just about taste the disappointment.
All throughout the service Jensen thought about Chris, wondering what he had said. Alan had cornered the young man before church started and grilled him. Dad was a lawyer, he knew how to ask some tough questions. Jensen had been unable to get to Chris before Alan spoke to him. All he could do was watch from a distance, praying that Chris's words would calm Alan down, rather than fuel his anger.
During the service, Jensen quietly sang along with the congregation, pretending that nothing was wrong. As he did, he glanced over at his father, seeing the man return the look. He tried to apologize with just his eyes, but his father was blind to it. After the service, everyone filed out of the church, smiling and greeting each other happily. The Ackles family was well-known and they all acted as though life was grand.
Outside, cars were beginning to leave the packed parking lot. In the sunshine, Jensen made a beeline for the car until he felt a hand clamp down upon his shoulder.
"Joshua, take your mother and sister home," Alan said, looking over at his eldest. He didn't let go of Jensen.
"But, Dad," Josh said. "Cath and I were going to--"
"Joshua, don't make me repeat myself."
After a moment of silence, Josh nodded his head and held his hand out to Mackenzie. "Come on, creep," he said without a smile. She readily took his hand, glancing back at her mother as they headed towards Josh's car.
Jensen watched his family leave, wishing with every fiber of his being that they would stay. His father's grip was tight on his shoulder, not letting him run away as he felt like doing. Eyes drifting closed for just a moment, Jensen tried not to sigh too loudly.
"Jensen," Alan said. "Let's go for a drive."
"Yes, sir," he answered softly. He went with his father, seating himself in the passenger's seat. It was silent in the car until Dad finally got out onto the highway; he was taking the long way home. "Dad, I'm really sorry."
"Did I address you, son?"
"No," he said. "I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"You know why, Dad."
"Yes, but I'm not convinced that you know why, Jensen."
Taking a deep breath, Jensen figured he should be used to this. Rarely, Dad accepted an apology. And if he did, he held a grudge, and would remind you of your past mistakes years down the road. "I...I should have called," he admitted. "I know I should have."
"Yes, the voicemails we left should have been an indication that we were worried."
"I know," he nodded. "I...I don't have an excuse."
"What if something serious had happened to your brother, to your sister? Or God forbid, your mother? What then?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know," he said, a note of sadness and defeat in his voice.
"Or, what if something happens to you one day? If you keep disappearing like this, how are we to know when something is really wrong?"
"Like this?" he asked. "You say that like I've done this a million times before."
"Answer my question, son."
He sighed, not bothering to quiet it this time. "I don't know," he repeated.
"I talked to your friend, Chris," Alan continued. "He told me that you were there with him all weekend, but I'm not sure he's being truthful."
Swallowing nervously, Jensen glanced over at his father. "He is," he lied.
Alan met his son's eyes for a moment. "The world is a cruel place, son," he warned. "You can't put your trust in just anyone."
He was tired of the conversation, of getting verbally bashed about. "I get it, Dad."
"No, I don't think you do, JR," Alan said, using the old nickname that Jensen was called when he was a child. He knew that Jensen hated the name, and used it only when he thought his son was being immature. "I'm going to ask you this once and only once, and you are going to tell me the truth, do you understand?"
Jensen looked away from him, facing the passenger's side window.
"Were you with that boy and his father?" Alan asked. "The ones that came for dinner the other night?"
Yeah, well, Jensen thought silently, he always did know everything anyway. Sighing, Jensen spoke while gazing out the window at the passing traffic and scenery. "Yes," he answered.
Alan's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That is precisely the kind of company that we do not keep, JR," he reprimanded.
He was furious at the statement. Turning, he looked directly at his father. "You kept it," he reminded him, daring in his voice.
Alan let go of the steering wheel with one hand and pointed a warning finger in his son's face. "Do not use that tone with me," he snapped. "Your mother made that decision, not me. I kept up appearances, but that's it."
Shaking his head, Jensen turned back to the passenger window. He remembered Jeffrey's reprimand to Jared; fatherly, stern words or a gentle physical reminder, and then all was forgotten. Life went on. Not with Alan, however. Things were talked about, re-hashed again and again. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Jensen pinched at the bridge of his nose where a headache was brewing.
"Now," Alan began, breaking the momentary silence. "You're going to go home, go up in your room and not show your face again until you have all your homework done. I want to see it."
Jensen clenched his jaw. I'm not nine years old anymore, Dad, he wanted to say.
"And as punishment for your behaviour, and your lying about it all, you're grounded for one week," he continued.
Whipping his head around, Jensen looked mortally wounded. "A week?" he repeated. "Dad, that's unfair."
"You'd prefer two weeks then?" he challenged. "You said it yourself, Jensen. You have no excuse."
He clamped his mouth shut, teeth grinding as he stared at his father. "No, sir," he finally said. "One week."
"A wise decision," Alan nodded. "And you won't see this boy and his father again."
He was sure Jared didn't know his phone number.
That didn't stop Jensen from keeping the cell with him all the time, checking it again and again to see if he'd missed any calls.
His homework technically didn't take him as long as he made out that it did. Instead, he found comfort in the seclusion of his room. The more he stayed away from Dad, the better he felt. He and Alan had never truly seen eye to eye, but Jensen had been raised to respect his elders, not to question them. He had always been the peacemaker between he and his father, the first to always come forward and apologize even if he felt he hadn't done anything wrong. It had made him...not Jensen.
Laying on his bed, Jensen started to think about that fact. Who was he? What did he want out of life? Was the desire to go to med-school really his, or was it his father's? Gnawing at his bottom lip, Jensen decided that no, he really did want to be in the medical field. Dad at least got that part right. But the questions got him to thinking more. Jared seemed so sure of himself, happy with who he was even though he didn't have anything near the opportunities Jensen did now.
Interrupting his thoughts, there was a knock at the door. Jensen sat up on his bed and swung his legs over the side. "Yeah," he said.
The door opened, revealing Alan on the other side. In his hands, he had a tray that held a plateful of food; something gourmet. Donna wasn't that much of a cook - sure, she could make a few good things, but the cooking was mostly left to Maricruz, the housekeeper. It had smelled divine while she was making it, but Jensen still hadn't left his room all day. Now that the food was there before him, he realized how hungry he really was.
"Still working on schoolwork?"
Jensen remained seated upon his mattress. "Yeah," he said again, though it was a lie. He'd been done for quite awhile.
"They gave you quite a haul on Friday."
"Yeah," he repeated.
Alan didn't need someone to tell him that his son was upset with him. That much was clear. He wasn't one to go back on his word though. A punishment was a punishment. Without a smile, Alan handed the tray over to his son. "Your mother sent that up."
Clear boundaries. Dad wanted him to know that he hadn't sent it up to him. For a split second, Jensen had the need to ask if his father even really loved him. That was silly, he decided. Of course Dad loved him. But the question didn't wholly leave him, instead stuck in the back of his mind.
--TBC--
Authors: bloody_adorable and eviltwin
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Rating: PG all the way to NC-17 in future chapters.
Wordcount: 2,181
Summary: AU. Jared's a classic case of rich kid gone wrong, whose only sense of family comes from his motorbike, the guy he rents a garage from to live in and the precinct cops who know his face better than most already. Jensen's a hard-working student whose family are helping push him towards great things. What happens when their two worlds collide, and will Jared's troublesome nature be too much for Jensen to handle?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
CHAPTER FIVE
The study was quiet and tidy. Alan preferred everything that way, especially his home life. Everything was always in order. There were never any surprises.
That was why, when his son suddenly acted out of the ordinary, Alan was out of sorts. He, of course, had done his best with the boy. He’d given him everything that he hadn't had as a child and, for the past nineteen years, Jensen had acted exemplary. His grades were all A's, he had good morals and he was well liked by his teachers.
Alan just didn't understand where this sudden lack of responsibility had come from.
"Dad."
Alan didn't turn away from the window, recognizing his eldest child's voice.
"It's time to go."
He nodded his head at Josh. "Your brother?"
Josh frowned as he stood in the doorway of the study. "He...he's not here."
Setting his jaw in anger, Alan nodded again. He straightened the lapels of his suit jacket and turned away from the window. He smiled at Josh, over-friendly. "Well, then," he said, "let's get a move-on."
Josh watched him walk past, pausing long enough to pat him on the shoulder. He didn't know what Jensen was up to, but he hoped his brother made good. Dad could hold a grudge forever.
After gathering up Donna, Mackenzie and Josh's girlfriend, the two men of the house shepherded everyone out of the house. When they were down the front steps, they finally saw Jensen. The family all came to a halt, except Donna. She smiled and neared her son, clasping his hands in hers.
"Jensen, sweetheart," she whispered. "Where have you been?"
"I'm sorry, Mom," he apologized. "I was with Chris all weekend and we just got busy."
"With what, for Heaven's sake?"
He tilted his head, trying to come up with the quickest lie he could. "With the band," he finally said.
"Donna," Alan interrupted. He separated her and Jensen and gently pushed her away. "Go wait in the car, please."
"But, Alan."
"Now."
She knew not to push him. Quickly, she gave in and put her arm around Mackenzie. They, Josh and Cathy headed for the cars.
Alan remained motionless for only a moment and then, with anger in his eyes, turned towards his youngest son. Jensen was still in his school uniform, now wrinkled from overuse. There was the slightest of blondish-brown beard stubble on the boy's chin and he reeked of cheap deodorant. "Just what is it that you think you're pulling, young man?"
Jensen shook his head, gazing over at his father. "I don't think I'm pulling anything," he answered.
"Look at you," Alan snarled at him.
Jensen frowned and looked down at his wrinkled clothes. "I'm sorry, Dad," he returned. "I lost track of time."
"I don’t think that you expect me to believe that."
"Dad."
"I won't be seen with you like that."
"Fine," Jensen shrugged, his own anger starting to boil beneath the surface. "I won't go then."
"Alan?" Donna called. She had stepped from inside the vehicle to urge them on.
Turning, Alan looked over at his wife, attempting a reassuring smile. "Alright, dear," he said to her, waving her back into the car. He turned back to Jensen and pointed a finger in his face. "You're not getting out of church just because you were ignorant. Get in the car. And I don't want to hear a peep out of you."
Jensen suppressed a sigh. He followed his father to the car, shoved himself in the back seat and gazed out the window on the drive to church. Neither Mom or Dad talked; the ride was painfully silent. Church was equally uncomfortable. Jensen sat closest to the large stained-glass windows, his father on the aisle side of the pews. Just as well; he preferred to be as far away from the man as possible for the time being. He felt like everyone's eyes were on him, but the most important gaze was from his father. He could almost feel the anger as a solid presence, could just about taste the disappointment.
All throughout the service Jensen thought about Chris, wondering what he had said. Alan had cornered the young man before church started and grilled him. Dad was a lawyer, he knew how to ask some tough questions. Jensen had been unable to get to Chris before Alan spoke to him. All he could do was watch from a distance, praying that Chris's words would calm Alan down, rather than fuel his anger.
During the service, Jensen quietly sang along with the congregation, pretending that nothing was wrong. As he did, he glanced over at his father, seeing the man return the look. He tried to apologize with just his eyes, but his father was blind to it. After the service, everyone filed out of the church, smiling and greeting each other happily. The Ackles family was well-known and they all acted as though life was grand.
Outside, cars were beginning to leave the packed parking lot. In the sunshine, Jensen made a beeline for the car until he felt a hand clamp down upon his shoulder.
"Joshua, take your mother and sister home," Alan said, looking over at his eldest. He didn't let go of Jensen.
"But, Dad," Josh said. "Cath and I were going to--"
"Joshua, don't make me repeat myself."
After a moment of silence, Josh nodded his head and held his hand out to Mackenzie. "Come on, creep," he said without a smile. She readily took his hand, glancing back at her mother as they headed towards Josh's car.
Jensen watched his family leave, wishing with every fiber of his being that they would stay. His father's grip was tight on his shoulder, not letting him run away as he felt like doing. Eyes drifting closed for just a moment, Jensen tried not to sigh too loudly.
"Jensen," Alan said. "Let's go for a drive."
"Yes, sir," he answered softly. He went with his father, seating himself in the passenger's seat. It was silent in the car until Dad finally got out onto the highway; he was taking the long way home. "Dad, I'm really sorry."
"Did I address you, son?"
"No," he said. "I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"You know why, Dad."
"Yes, but I'm not convinced that you know why, Jensen."
Taking a deep breath, Jensen figured he should be used to this. Rarely, Dad accepted an apology. And if he did, he held a grudge, and would remind you of your past mistakes years down the road. "I...I should have called," he admitted. "I know I should have."
"Yes, the voicemails we left should have been an indication that we were worried."
"I know," he nodded. "I...I don't have an excuse."
"What if something serious had happened to your brother, to your sister? Or God forbid, your mother? What then?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know," he said, a note of sadness and defeat in his voice.
"Or, what if something happens to you one day? If you keep disappearing like this, how are we to know when something is really wrong?"
"Like this?" he asked. "You say that like I've done this a million times before."
"Answer my question, son."
He sighed, not bothering to quiet it this time. "I don't know," he repeated.
"I talked to your friend, Chris," Alan continued. "He told me that you were there with him all weekend, but I'm not sure he's being truthful."
Swallowing nervously, Jensen glanced over at his father. "He is," he lied.
Alan met his son's eyes for a moment. "The world is a cruel place, son," he warned. "You can't put your trust in just anyone."
He was tired of the conversation, of getting verbally bashed about. "I get it, Dad."
"No, I don't think you do, JR," Alan said, using the old nickname that Jensen was called when he was a child. He knew that Jensen hated the name, and used it only when he thought his son was being immature. "I'm going to ask you this once and only once, and you are going to tell me the truth, do you understand?"
Jensen looked away from him, facing the passenger's side window.
"Were you with that boy and his father?" Alan asked. "The ones that came for dinner the other night?"
Yeah, well, Jensen thought silently, he always did know everything anyway. Sighing, Jensen spoke while gazing out the window at the passing traffic and scenery. "Yes," he answered.
Alan's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That is precisely the kind of company that we do not keep, JR," he reprimanded.
He was furious at the statement. Turning, he looked directly at his father. "You kept it," he reminded him, daring in his voice.
Alan let go of the steering wheel with one hand and pointed a warning finger in his son's face. "Do not use that tone with me," he snapped. "Your mother made that decision, not me. I kept up appearances, but that's it."
Shaking his head, Jensen turned back to the passenger window. He remembered Jeffrey's reprimand to Jared; fatherly, stern words or a gentle physical reminder, and then all was forgotten. Life went on. Not with Alan, however. Things were talked about, re-hashed again and again. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Jensen pinched at the bridge of his nose where a headache was brewing.
"Now," Alan began, breaking the momentary silence. "You're going to go home, go up in your room and not show your face again until you have all your homework done. I want to see it."
Jensen clenched his jaw. I'm not nine years old anymore, Dad, he wanted to say.
"And as punishment for your behaviour, and your lying about it all, you're grounded for one week," he continued.
Whipping his head around, Jensen looked mortally wounded. "A week?" he repeated. "Dad, that's unfair."
"You'd prefer two weeks then?" he challenged. "You said it yourself, Jensen. You have no excuse."
He clamped his mouth shut, teeth grinding as he stared at his father. "No, sir," he finally said. "One week."
"A wise decision," Alan nodded. "And you won't see this boy and his father again."
He was sure Jared didn't know his phone number.
That didn't stop Jensen from keeping the cell with him all the time, checking it again and again to see if he'd missed any calls.
His homework technically didn't take him as long as he made out that it did. Instead, he found comfort in the seclusion of his room. The more he stayed away from Dad, the better he felt. He and Alan had never truly seen eye to eye, but Jensen had been raised to respect his elders, not to question them. He had always been the peacemaker between he and his father, the first to always come forward and apologize even if he felt he hadn't done anything wrong. It had made him...not Jensen.
Laying on his bed, Jensen started to think about that fact. Who was he? What did he want out of life? Was the desire to go to med-school really his, or was it his father's? Gnawing at his bottom lip, Jensen decided that no, he really did want to be in the medical field. Dad at least got that part right. But the questions got him to thinking more. Jared seemed so sure of himself, happy with who he was even though he didn't have anything near the opportunities Jensen did now.
Interrupting his thoughts, there was a knock at the door. Jensen sat up on his bed and swung his legs over the side. "Yeah," he said.
The door opened, revealing Alan on the other side. In his hands, he had a tray that held a plateful of food; something gourmet. Donna wasn't that much of a cook - sure, she could make a few good things, but the cooking was mostly left to Maricruz, the housekeeper. It had smelled divine while she was making it, but Jensen still hadn't left his room all day. Now that the food was there before him, he realized how hungry he really was.
"Still working on schoolwork?"
Jensen remained seated upon his mattress. "Yeah," he said again, though it was a lie. He'd been done for quite awhile.
"They gave you quite a haul on Friday."
"Yeah," he repeated.
Alan didn't need someone to tell him that his son was upset with him. That much was clear. He wasn't one to go back on his word though. A punishment was a punishment. Without a smile, Alan handed the tray over to his son. "Your mother sent that up."
Clear boundaries. Dad wanted him to know that he hadn't sent it up to him. For a split second, Jensen had the need to ask if his father even really loved him. That was silly, he decided. Of course Dad loved him. But the question didn't wholly leave him, instead stuck in the back of his mind.
--TBC--