[BB 2013] Your Signal In the Distance (2/3)

[dugindeep]

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Over the next two days, Jensen and Misha meet up with Jared to interview residents in Ellen Thompson’s building and the one across the creek. Five doors in a row, they get five similar descriptions of a man with shaggy blond hair who walks a large grey dog through their complex. Most insist he doesn’t live in the area, one man reports that while out for a run, he’s seen the blond leaving a building from the complex that’s connected by the creek and adjacent path.

Jensen has to admit that Jared has been helpful through introductions and questioning, taking enough of the lead that Jensen could stew quietly in the background while Misha mentally hunted around each apartment for anything that triggered him.

“Just, think real hard,” Jared kindly asks a working mom set to leave for an evening shift and insists she doesn’t have time to talk. “You ever see anyone hanging around in the building?”

As she steps into the hall, the woman calls goodbye to her children, five from what Jensen could see, toddler up to teenager. She shakes her head as she locks the door and checks it to be sure. “I’m never really home that late, I already told you. I’ve got the night shift then a morning shift at another shop.”

“What about your children? Maybe they’ve seen someone?”

“I’m really sorry, it’s awful about that young girl, but I don’t know.”

As she walks towards the front lobby, Jared follows to give her his card and Jensen sighs. Suddenly, they both stop. The woman looks towards her apartment, points and shrugs, and carries on with the rest of her night.

Jensen and Misha share a look, unsure of what’s just happened to bring such a bright, proud smile to Jared’s face.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asks harshly.

“Something good?” Misha guesses.

“No, not good. I don’t like that face.”

Jared frowns then rolls his eyes before knocking at the door. “Please. You liked that face when-”

Jensen knocks harder at the door to interrupt and when Misha asks what he’s doing, Jensen sighs. “I don’t even know.”

The slides open a few inches with a chain lock in place and the teenage daughter glancing at them without a word.

“Hey, Tracey,” Jared says warmly. “Your mom told me you’ve been spending your weekends as a dogwalker? Have you ever seen a guy with …”

As Jared goes on with his questions, Jensen does his best to not let his mouth drop open, because now the young girl is giving them a detailed account of where she sees the man with the shaggy hair walk his dog every Saturday morning. It includes a long stroll along the creek and up to this building, though she’s unsure if he just meanders this way or ends his path here.

When they’re done getting her statement, Jared’s eyes are sparkling and Jensen’s irritation at Jared getting this break ebbs into self-satisfaction. He then realizes that he and Jared are staring at one another, that Jared is bleeding into him once again.

He’s broken from the shared emotions when Misha slaps Jared on the shoulder and steers them onto the next door.



On the second day, the last few doors go unanswered, apartments dark and empty as the sun draws over the property. Light shines off the creek, and Jensen is strangely mesmerized by the tiny ripples in the surface of the water that create a sparkling effect in the daytime.

“What do you think?” Misha asks from Jensen’s side.

“Gotta check the next complex.” When Misha checks his watch, Jensen thinks of his partner’s family at home. They’re on a case, but there are limits to what Jensen will keep his partner from. “You have plans?”

“Doctor’s appointment. First ultrasound.”

Jensen smirks and recalls Misha’s easy happiness when announcing his wife was expecting their second child. “There’s only one first ultrasound, man.”

“Yeah, I know.” Misha nods yet frowns. “But we can’t keep someone out there for another night.”

“I can go check it out,” Jared offers.

Reminded that Jared is still with them, Jensen glances at him and goes from irritation to contrition when Jared frowns and sighs, taking a step or two away.

“I can head out on my own to ask around. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Jensen mumbles. “You should have back-up just in case.” He pats Misha then nudges him away with a small smile. “Go on home, see your new baby girl.”

Misha smiles back. “We don’t know that yet.”

“I’ve got a feeling on it.” He pushes Misha once more. “Go on, we’ll be fine without you.”

“I know you will.”

Even when Misha’s statement seems to be enough to end on, he rubs over Jensen’s shoulder and lets out a wave of patience before he leaves.

Jared motions down the path and Jensen walks forward, feeling the remnants of Misha’s comfort ease his bones. “So, at some point,” Jared says, hesitant, “we should get an artist down here to sketch the suspect, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. “But not until we’re more certain he’s our guy.”

“You don’t think he is?”

“I think it’s possible there’s more than one creep around here.”

Jared chuckles and Jensen reluctantly smiles. “Is it something you can really tell?” When Jensen aims a confused look Jared’s way, Jared flips his hand in circles as though he’s digging for the right phrasing. “Like, with the empathy? Can you tell that there’s more than one thing going on now?”

Jensen tucks his hands into his pants pockets and pulls in a deep breath of fresh air. He’s not used to discussing it; many people these days think oddly of him for even being an Empath, let alone what his specific abilities are. He knows there’s no good time to explain it to Jared, or that he doesn’t really have to. Still, he winds up saying, “No, I can’t. That’s not how it works.”

“How does it work?” Suddenly, Jared seems freaked, nervous, and prepared for Jensen to attack. “I mean, if you don’t mind explaining it.”

He does, no matter who’s asking, but he figures it helps to explain it to the only guy who will have his back if something backfires during these interviews. “I’m a Cognitive, so it’s kind of different from many of the others. I can pick up on some emotions, mostly those with extreme harm.”

“Like a car accident?”

“If it’s an angry one,” Jensen mumbles. As Jared frowns and glances at him, Jensen decides to finally just admit it. “It’s mostly in cases of violence, or rage.”

“So, you’re good at picking out the bad guys, then? That’s pretty cool.”

Jensen hesitantly smiles whereas Jared is grinning. “Not quite. It’s typically latent.”

“Oh, okay.” After a moment, Jared scratches behind his ear. “What does that really mean?”

“Just, that, I don’t usually pick up on it unless it’s a large group. Otherwise, I kind of search for it.”

“Usually?”

Jensen clears his throat, feeling them skating close to the edge of his discomfort in this topic. “When I was younger, I would pick up individuals. Mostly those I was extremely close with. My mom, dad, sister.”

Jared aims a soft, interested look at Jensen. “Why doesn’t it work that way now?”

He shrugs, not knowing how to truly explain it. He doesn’t really want to anyway. He figures it’s mostly because he doesn’t allow himself close relationships anymore. “I don’t know.”

“I’ve heard of some psychome-cognitives, I mean,” Jared corrects with a small smile, “who share trauma or even a long-distance connection with those that they’re most aligned with.”

Jensen sucks in a long breath and focuses on his feet stepping forward. That’s pretty much what happened to him, exactly what he experienced. It doesn’t mean he’s capable of discussing it; he never really has been.

“So how does your ability help with the cases then?”

Jensen slows to a stop in front of the building they’re set to check out. Jared is next to him, watching carefully, and Jensen still isn’t sure how to describe it, even after decades of living with it. “I connect with the victims,” is the best he comes up with.

Jared frowns with raised eyebrows, which somehow annoys Jensen. He’s not sure what he wanted to get in response, but pity certainly isn’t it. “Like when they die?”

Shrugging again, Jensen shifts away from Jared. “Someone has to.”

“That’s really noble.”

“Noble,” Jensen snorts. “Right.”

Jared sets his hand to Jensen’s shoulder and there’s immediate relief to the icy tendrils that were beginning to coil in his stomach. “It’s not like you have to do that, you know?”

“Yeah, well, what else am I gonna do with it?” Jensen brushes off.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to witness that all the time.”

Jensen figures they’ve discussed this enough. “So, once we’re inside-”

“You can take the lead,” Jared says, following the subject change. “I’ll just observe.”

“No, you won’t.” When Jared looks over, Jensen shrugs. “You’ve been doing a good job so far.”

“Thank you,” Jared replies softly.

Jensen pulls the front door open and lets Jared slip in before him. “Besides, you wanted experience on the job, not a backseat, right?”

“Yeah, I did.”

Ignoring how Jared’s thrilled smile is affecting his breathing, Jensen walks to the first apartment on the left. “Good. Then do your thing and I’ll be sure to tell you when you make a mistake.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jared chuckles.

Surprising them both, Jensen doesn’t have to.



A handful of residents nod to the description of the man with the dog, yet no one knows what his name is or what apartment he lives in. At the north end of the second floor, a dog barks and Jensen immediately sparks to life, heat coursing his veins.

“It’s not our guy,” Jared says as they step up to the door.

“Why not?”

“It’s gonna be a tiny puffball. I bet you.”

Jensen narrows his eyes at Jared, even as the rough growling continues on. “What’s the wager?”

“Dinner.”

He lifts an eyebrow and continues to watch Jared, feeling warm with the guy’s cocky insistence.

“Not like that,” Jared insists. “Just, two guys, two burgers, your dime.”

Jensen knocks on the door as he continues to look at Jared. He licks his lips with his own burst of confidence. “And beers.”

Jared grins. “You’re on.”

When the door swings open to a tall blond male, Jensen clears his throat and they both show their badges. “Agent Ackles, this is Detective Padalecki. If we can have a few moments of your time?”

The man tucks a few strands of dark blond hair behind his ear and nervously smiles. “Uh, sure, yeah, come on in.”

They slowly follow him inside and Jensen’s nerves itch with interest of finding this guy in the apartment with the dog growling from the front room. The hair fits the description, though a bit shorter, sure. A haircut isn’t out of the question. The kitchen is a mess and the garbage is overflowing, which also triggers Jensen’s suspicions.

That is, until there’s a high-pitched squeal, and the patter of quick footsteps coming at them. Jensen reaches for the weapon at his hip and plants his feet in a firm stance.

“Becca, what’re you doing?” the man complains. A second later, a toddler is running into his arms, still squealing and now laughing. “You need to leave Pola alone.”

Jensen eases his hand off the butt of his gun, confused even further when the dog barking becomes more like excitable squawks. A short-legged, white Yorkie nips at the edges of the man's jeans, and Jensen groans with the knowledge that he’s lost the bet.

Jared’s already grinning at him. “And beers,” he repeats Jensen’s words.

“I’m so sorry detectives,” the man says in a rush, putting the girl down. He shoos her back into the living room and leads them to the kitchen table in the back corner. Once they’re seated, he brushes hair away from his face again. “What can I do for you?”

Jared starts talking, asking about the area and its safety, asking about his neighbors and his own residence here. The easy demeanor Jared carries keeps the man-Paul Wilson, he introduces-answering like there’s no reason to worry.

Jensen watches the man talk and he realizes that his face is rather shapely, handsome even, whereas many descriptions talked about pinched eyes and a fat-ended nose, scruff covering the lower end of the face.

Jensen starts to ask Paul about any questionable residents, about other pets in the building, but Paul comes up empty every time. Nervously laughs that he works long hours and that his wife, a stay-home mom, may know more, but she won’t be home for a few hours.

He’s about to call it quits when Becca comes running in to beg about going to the dog park that her mom always takes her to. Jensen is suddenly more interested in the tiny dog than he thought he would be.

“Hey, uh, Becca,” Jensen asks, “What’s your doggie’s name?”

She leans against her father, nearly hiding her face at his knee. “Pola.”

“Did you name her?”

“Daddy let me.”

Jensen smiles up at Paul then again to Becca. “It’s a cute name. Where’d you get it?”

She seems annoyed when she furrows her brow and pushes long blonde hair out of her face. “’Cause he look like a pola bear, duh.”

Jared gives Jensen a look that says he’s on Becca’s side, and Jensen shakes his head. “Well of course she does. “

“Pola’s a boy!” Becca insists and Jensen sits back in his chair with a small sigh.

Children are definitely high on his list of problems with people.

“Becca,” Jared interrupts with a soft, loveable tone, “Do you go to the park a lot?”

She now leans comfortably at her dad’s side and talks with her hands. “Momma takes me during the week. We watch the doggies run and Pola gets to play with his friends.”

“Does he have any big friends?” Jared asks, sitting forward with a friendly smile.

“Yeah, a couple. A yellow one and a brown one.”

“Do you ever see any grey ones?”

She thinks it over, biting her lower lip the longer it takes her to remember. “There’s one downstairs. But his daddy don’t let him play with all the other doggies.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too big and rough. And his daddy is weird.”

Jensen leans forward, dropping his shoulders and head so he can be more on level with the little girl, trying for all he can to actually do some good here. He wants to make sure he doesn’t intimidate her and just keeps the chat easy even while they’re getting info out of her. “How is he weird?”

“I don’t think he ever has bath time.”

“Becca,” Paul admonishes her. He combs her hair down her back. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

She looks up at her dad and frowns. “But he always smells dirty.”

“What does he look like?”

“Like Scooby Doo. But greyer.”

Jensen glances at Jared, who’s just smiling in return when he explains, “The dog, a Great Dane.” Jensen nods then lets Jared ask her what the owner looks like.

He swears there are chills running down his spine when she says, “He has hair like me, but Momma and I brush it. I don’t think he does. And his face looks like Porky Pig.”

Jared casually pushes at the edge of his nose and Jensen recognizes the descriptions they received earlier: a fat-edged nose.

Jensen minutely nods for Jared to continue talking to her in the same friendly, sweet manner he’s been with her. “Do you know which apartment the doggie lives in?”

She slowly shakes her head. “No, but I see him go down the hallway below us.”

“That’s awesome, Becca,” Jared gushes with his huge palm out to high five her. “You’ve got a really great memory.” In a stage whisper he asks, “You think your daddy will mind if we give you a piece of candy for being such an awesome junior police officer?”

Jensen watches in amazement when Jared pulls a few Tootsie Rolls from his pocket to share with the little girl, who is bubbling with excitement that she could help them. She runs off to the living room where Pola is curled up in a doggie bed by the window and tells him that they’re going to be the new police guards for their building now.

Paul seems equally proud and embarrassed when he leads them out the door and gives them directions to the dog park at the end of the walking trail, further from Ellen Thompson’s apartment. On their way down to the first floor, Jensen calls Worthy to tell him what they’ve found, and he’s told that Worthy will be on his way over to further investigate along with them.

Meanwhile, Jensen tries to ignore the flutter of acceptance, even approval, for Jared’s abilities. He does recognize a flash of annoyance for even considering the fact that he likes working alongside Jared.

They check the apartment doors that had gone unanswered on their earlier sweep through the building, yet still nothing yields either their potential suspect or a grey Great Dane. In the end, they wait outside for Worthy and his partner to show up.

While they lean against the front half-wall that provides an attractive, dark brick façade to the entrance, Jared pops a Tootsie Roll in his mouth and offers one to Jensen.

“No, thanks. I had enough sugar watching you with that little kid.”

Jared chuckles. “Yeah, kids are like sponges. You just gotta know how to get through to them, then you squeeze ‘em for all the juicy details.”

Jensen crosses his arms and watches a middle-aged man jog down the pathway at an even pace, strands of his earbuds swaying across his body. He wonders if that’s the jogger heard shouting the night of Ellen Thompson’s death, and he continues to watch the man’s pace as he considers the possibility. Through it all, he remembers Jared’s comment and replies, “Apparently through the power of cartoon.”

“Hey, you gotta know your subjects.”

Jensen makes a short noise and keeps observing the area.

“If you wanna go prowl, I’m fine to wait for Worthy on my own.”

He lifts his gaze from the departing jogger to Jared eying him back. “Excuse me?”

“If you wanna hit up Mr. Rogers over there,” he says, waving at the guy who’s nearly out of sight, “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“I’m not,” Jensen complains. “I don’t want to prowl. Jesus Christ. We’re on a job right now.”

Jared crosses his shoulders and looks across the creek, likely at nothing in particular. “I was just offering, in case I’m keeping you down. Paul Wilson wasn’t too bad looking either.”

“What are you talking about?” Jensen scowls at Jared, unsure if he’s more offended by Jared suggesting Jensen’s that unprofessional or if it’s just because it’s Jared saying it.

When Jared brushes it off with a flippant, “Nothing,” Jensen feels irritation boil inside, bringing perspiration to his temples.

He wipes away the sweat, but still feels it coming in constant measure. When Jared fidgets in place, Jensen’s startled to realize he’s reliving the moment in the precinct a few days ago, or even the day before when Jared got them a break on the teenage dogwalker. Those few times that Jared’s intense responses had flooded Jensen’s own senses.

Jensen’s brain flips into flight mode and he’s itching to run away from Jared. He can’t handle this power that overtakes him, or his own failure to keep it at bay. For years, he’s constructed layers upon layers of defenses, and he’s pissed at himself-and Jared-that they’re collapsing now.

For the first time in a long time, he wishes his partner were here to steady him.

Jensen wipes his face free of sweat once again, anxiety now blending with Jared’s petulance, and Jared side-eyes him.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Jensen angrily laughs.

A thin layer of worry slinks beneath all of Jensen’s churning emotions as Jared pushes off the building to stand closer. “What’s wrong?” He checks out the area, eyes wide with focused concern. “Is there something going on?”

“No, damnit,” Jensen spits out as he steps back from Jared. “Just relax, alright? You relax and I’ll relax, and we’ll be fine until Worthy gets here. And stand, like, over there, or something,” he adds with a rough motion to the other side of the entryway.

Jared frowns and moves, which alleviates plenty of Jensen’s tension so he’s operating at a normal level of uneasiness. His stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten since early that morning, and it was just half a donut on the road. Once he gets some sustenance in him, a little bit of rest in there, too, he can build his walls back up to full power, so to speak.

They remain silent until Worthy shows up with a handful of uniforms following his trail. Jensen stays a decent distance from Jared as a group gathers near them to hear the full story of what had been uncovered about their potential suspect living on the first floor on the north end of the building and a description of his face and the Great Dane he’s often seen with.

Worthy grins at them both and genially slaps them each on the back. “Great work guys. Stop at The Badge tonight, and drinks are on me.”

Jared is shyly proud with a smile and short laugh. “Appreciated.”

“But no thanks,” Jensen says quickly. “Got other stops to make, including the food I haven’t had all day.”

“You sure?” Worth asks.

“Jensen owes me dinner,” Jared mentions and Jensen isn’t sure if he’s thankful to have a real reason to not fraternize with his coworkers or pissed off that Jared’s made it about them.

“Oh?”

Jensen does his best to not make it sound more than it is, even when it really isn’t anything to begin with. It just feels like everything Jared does or says becomes more. “Lost a bet,” he admits.

Worthy chuckles. “Didn’t know you were the betting kind. I’ll have to keep that in mind for the horses.”

“Well, Jensen lost on a dog,” Jared says, “So I’m not sure you want him anywhere near a track.”

“Ready to head out?” Jensen cuts in, terse and tired. “You’ve got my notes,” he tells Worthy, “So you should be set from here on out.”

Worthy gives a short salute. “Good job, guys. When we get someone in custody, we’ll call you.”

On the way to the car, Jared is frowning and Jensen can’t keep his restraint to not ask what’s wrong.

“I didn’t realize you’re just cut off now. All the work you do to get them to the main event and you’re not invited.”

Jensen doesn’t reply until they’re in the car and he’s revving the engine over the anger in his voice. “Yeah, well, what do you want?”

“How about Shooter’s?”

“What?” Jensen asks, confused by Jared mentioning a sports bar at least two towns over.

Jared smiles. “They’ve got half-pound burgers that are almost the size of my face.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles. Now he’s annoyed that he has to spend more time with Jared, that he lost a stupid bet about a dog. “Before, with the-”

“I know,” Jared admits evenly. “I was giving you the out. Besides, we’re off-duty now, right? No need to keep talking work.”

Jensen’s never been happier to agree with Jared.



“You are a total lightweight,” Jared grunts, fumbling to lead them up the sidewalk to Jensen’s place.

“Am not,” Jensen sighs. He huffs a breath when Jared tugs him off the lawn and to the cement, and now he’s dizzy beyond belief. And perhaps he was a bit of lightweight tonight, because he swears they only had a handful of beers a piece and had laced their stomachs with burgers that were truly almost as big as their heads.

“I’m just tired,” Jensen insists, because that’s definitely part of it, too. Keeping his walls up all evening while Jared was friendly and laughing through random conversations drained Jensen of most of his energy. At dinner, Jared had stayed away from work topics, but did try to casually ask more about Jensen’s condition. Jensen cut him off at every turn and spent half the time watching basketball on the flat screens over the bar and listening to Jared blabber on about his short-lived dream of playing pro ball when he was eight, but at the time he was, surprisingly, shorter than most of the kids in his class.

Now Jensen is imagining Jared in a sleeveless jersey, memory filling in the strength in those arms that Jensen had experienced more than a week ago. He drifts off to those legs and remembers the press of tight thighs against the back of his own, and he groans. He hates himself for recalling that moment right now, when Jared is standing too close with a shoulder shoved under Jensen’s arm to keep him upright at the doorway.

“’m just tired. Sleepin’ too little, workin’ too much.”

Jared turns his head to look at Jensen and they are only inches apart, eyes honed in on one another. Jensen blinks when he can feel Jared’s want sink into his own bones, and he gulps as he pushes away from Jared.

“But I’m fine now,” Jensen insists. He grabs his keys from Jared and gets the door unlocked so he can escape inside. He only let Jared drive him home because they had been travelling in his car anyway, and Jared had insisted Jensen was in no shape to drive himself home.

As soon as he’s inside, his cat runs through the doorway with a tiny meow, and he belatedly remembers he should have checked on the black tabby. “Oh, shit, she…”

“Hey there, baby,” Jared coos, having swept her up into his arms, and strokes over her jaw. He steps inside and tugs the door shut with his foot, all while giving the cat long strokes over the bend of her spine. “I don’t remember you the other night.”

Jensen clenches his eyes shut at the thought, but refuses to comment on it.

“And what’s your name?”

He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a tall glass of water, drinking a good deal before he answers. “Crazyface.”

Jared looks flatly at Jensen. “I really hope you didn’t name her.”

“I did,” he admits. “Misha and I found her at an abandoned apartment of a suspect.”

“Really?”

Jensen shrugs, feeling odd to share this bit of Good Samaritan in him. “Yeah, it was gonna be short-term, until we could find a spot for her with the humane society, but they were full and I got a little forgetful about finding a place for her.”

“How noble,” Jared says with a smirk. “Except for the atrocity of her name.”

“Trust me, she earned it.”

Jared holds her up in front of his face and smiles at her. “I can hardly believe that, this adorable, soft, pretty, little-”

Just then, she fidgets in place and howls as she tries to get out of Jared’s hold. Jared adjusts his hands to keep a handle on her, then she lets out a fierce reowww! and scrabbles up his neck and shoulder to jump down to the floor.

Jensen feels a flash of shared pain then laughs. “And now you see?”

Jared rubs at his neck, flinching when he touches the scratches. “Jesus, yeah, I guess.”

Against his better judgment, Jensen invites Jared into the kitchen, makes him sit in a dining chair, and gets out antiseptic spray and cotton wipes to clean the wounds. Jared is practically admiring Jensen as he patiently lets Jensen clean his wounds. There’s a quick spark of Jared’s awe, but then Jensen focuses more strictly on cleaning the scratches and he cuts Jared off with another cognitive block.

“Cats are tough, huh?” Jared chuckles softly.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Jared says, “I’m more of a dog guy, myself.”

“I never would’ve guessed,” Jensen deadpans.

Jared smiles up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re, just, like a giant puppy yourself.”

“Is that what reeled you in at Baron’s?”

Now Jared is smirking at him, eyes intent on Jensen’s face, and Jensen can’t chance another mistake where Jared is concerned.

After a long, shared look, Jared’s face morphs into something more caring and he bites his lower lip before opening his mouth to speak. “Did something happen? To make your powers change?”

Jensen’s breath catches and he blinks slowly. “What?”

“To make you this way.”

Now he scowls. “What way?”

“So uptight and cut off.”

He flinches away like he’s been burnt, drops the used cotton pads on the table, and nervously wipes his hands on his pants. “Alright, looks like you’re good.”

“Jensen, I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately.

“No, it’s fine.” He flashes a fake smile and hears the click of yet another shield falling into place, precautionary tactic and all in case Jared starts fishing for more conversation. “It’s late anyway. And you’ve gotta get all the way back home now.”

Jared stands and is careful when he goes on. “I was just wondering, because I sometimes feel like you maybe have real emotions, but then you-”

“Look, just because we hooked up once,” Jensen spits out, “doesn’t mean you get to psychoanalyze anything.”

Jared, sighs and nods as he moves away, but then stalls in the doorway to the living room. “You know,” he starts quietly. “I’ve been thinking about that night a lot. And not even the sex, really. Which was incredible, don’t get me wrong. But what sticks in my mind was that instant connection, to be so tuned into someone. It was really good.” Jared’s eyes are intent on Jensen as he says, “And I swear I keep feeling that.”

Jensen roughly swallows because that connection is something he keeps facing with Jared, and he wonders if Jared truly knows that Jensen experiences it, too. It just might be more fucked up if Jared doesn’t and is just flying without a parachute here to throw himself back out of the plane no matter how many times Jensen pushes him away.

Jared clears his throat and pastes on a smile that, sadly, Jensen can read as awkward. It’s a poor imitation of the real ability for Jared to light up a room. “Thanks for letting me tag along the last few days.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jensen responds quickly. “You did good out there. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

“Really?”

Jensen asks himself that as well, unsure why he bothered to offer. “Yeah, of course,” he excuses away with a flippant wave. “It’s half your case now, anyway.”

Out of politeness, Jensen escorts Jared to the door. Once the sound of Jared’s car has faded away, Jensen’s cat struts across the room and twines between his legs. He thinks of picking her up, but he truly is exhausted from a long, busy day of building up ever-crumbling walls in his mind.

He leans against the inside of his front door and thinks it’s suddenly way too quiet without Jared chattering away.

When he heads to bed, he swears he can still smell something faintly Jared in his sheets, even though he’d changed them the night they slept together. No thanks to his exhaustion, his mind starts to replay moments with Jared over the last week and he falls asleep thinking of the way Jared has slowly wormed his way behind all of Jensen’s carefully constructed defenses.



A few days later, Jensen is in SIU when Worthy calls him about another body at the apartment complex. This one has been found in the forest preserve, a good fifty feet from the edge of the path, when a couple was walking their dog who strayed off into the brush.

Jensen feels tense to head over to the Special Victims Division on the third floor, though those feelings shift into something a bit easier to handle when he approaches Jared. Surprisingly, a subtle dose of confidence and comfort washes over Jensen as he steps just inside the bullpen, as his mind zones in on Jared.

Jared glances up from the conversation he’s having with another detective at a nearby desk. He sits up straight and offers a strained smile. “Hey, Jensen.”

“Hey, Jared,” he replies nearly as awkward as Jared. “I’m sure you’ve got enough going on down here, but can we steal you for a few hours?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jared jumps up and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair then swiftly follows Jensen out of the office area. “Did they find the guy?”

“No, unfortunately.” Jensen sighs and pushes the down button for the elevator. “They found your jogger.”

Jared doesn’t look at Jensen, just continues staring at the wall, but his distress is palatable all the same. Guilt and anger and sorrow spin together, and Jensen is hardly surprised. It’s how he felt when he first heard.

“So what do you need from me?” Jared finally asks once they’re in the elevator.

“We could use as many guys as possible.” After a moment, he tries to dismiss his own impulse to get Jared to help. “Worthy insisted.”

Jared numbly nods. “That’s good, yeah, I’m happy to help. Whatever you need.” Jared’s nod becomes stronger as they head out into the sunshine of the afternoon. “So, if it’s the same guy, and I’m assuming he’s trying to cover his tracks, why would he wait so long?”

Jensen swallows. “I don’t think he waited all that long. It just took a while to find the body.”

Widening his eyes, Jared obviously gets Jensen’s point. “How far is decomp?”

“Quite a few days.” At Jared’s ill look, Jensen insists, “You don’t have to be there at the scene. I have to stop by and do my thing, but then we’ll check out the neighbors to find out where the suspect is. Misha’s at the guy’s apartment now and he says it feels pretty empty, like no one’s been home in a while.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Like I said, whatever you need me to do.”

“Thanks. We appreciate it.”



Just as Jensen had expected, the scene is a mess. It rained last night so the forest is wet and muddy, and the officers and crime scene techs are making the area worse no matter how hard they try not to. The young male jogger is dressed in bright shorts and a formerly white top that’s dirty and torn at the bottom hem as well as at the neck where dark bruises tell of strangulation.

It’s an odd fact, but Jensen is thankful that the victim is on his back with eyes slightly open. He hopes it means he saw his killer so Jensen can give a positive ID to Worthy.

All on the scene grant Jensen his space to work. Jared hangs back a few feet, but stays within distance. Even offers, “If you need anything, you know …”

Jensen nods in thanks as he stares at the man’s dull blue eyes and his vision goes hazy as he can feel Jared’s own worry slip in. It’s suddenly night time and the decorative lamps that dot the path offer the jogger some light. Jensen can feel his heart pounding in time with the vic’s, can hear feet smacking the hard pavement. His heart speeds up when a dark figure comes into view, leaning against a nearby tree. It gets even faster when there’s the ding of recognition that it’s the man from the night before. There’s a zing of memory, of a man with stringy blond hair hanging out from beneath a hoodie drawn over his head. The man had rushed from an apartment building that Jensen recognizes as Ellen Thompson’s and nearly tackled the jogger to the ground in his haste to get away.

This time, he doesn’t almost; he successfully yanks the jogger to the ground and wrestles in the brush of the forest until he gets on top. Jensen feels the weight across his hips just as they were on the victim’s and there’s no way to move when the man’s knees tuck tight against his sides and he wraps his hands around his throat.

Jensen’s breathing cuts off to a soft wheeze the tighter the man’s hands get and there’s the sting of the man’s fingernails cutting into the back of his neck. The man puts all of his upper body in shoving down on his neck and now there’s no air going in or out of the jogger’s wide mouth no matter how hard he struggles to breathe.

The struggling makes it more difficult. Fighting against it forces the killer’s grip into a stranglehold and now not only is his breathing slowing, but so is the passing of blood to his brain. Jensen can feel his own limbs slowly going limp and finally numb until his vision completely whites out and he drops to the ground, losing all control of his muscles.

Peripherally, he hears voices and sees blurry faces bending down to get close to him. Jared is first and he sounds panicked, but Jensen can’t speak. Jared presses his index and middle fingers to Jensen’s neck to seek out a pulse and it slowly comes back to life, thumping through Jensen’s body. He wants to tell them he’ll be okay, that it’s slowly returning to him, but his throat is rough and constricted.

“Get out of the way,” Jared yells, spreading his arms out for space. He then dives in to administer CPR, pressing his mouth to Jensen’s, forcing air in with five long breaths before leaning close to listen to Jensen’s breathing. Jared goes for another round until Misha shows up, shouting and shoving to get closer.

Misha kneels on the other side of Jensen, and again, Jensen tries to speak but his lips will hardly open and his brain is too sluggish to make himself move. He can just barely hear Misha ask what happened and Jared explaining that Jensen just passed out.

“Has this happened before?” Jared asks, angry yet nervous. “Is this what you guys do every time?”

“No, I’ve never seen him do this,” Misha responds just as frantically. He sets both palms to Jensen’s body, seeking out a hand and his neck to get down to skin immediately. “The jogger was strangled,” Misha complains, “And you let him do this?”

“I didn’t let him doing anything!”

Misha’s hands move to Jensen’s chest and now Jensen can feel the steady up and down of Misha’s own breathing replicated within his ribcage. “He feels everything they feel! If the vic’s not breathing while it happens, then neither is he.”

“I didn’t know,” Jared admits quietly and curls his hand around Jensen’s shoulder with a light touch.

In an instant, power zings through Jensen like a thousand little fires springing his muscles to life. His left arm flings out first, fingers grabbing at the sleeve of Jared’s jacket. Jared’s grip on his shoulder gets stronger and so does Jared, to the point he can finally lift his head off the ground a few inches and open his mouth to gulp in fresh air.

“Jensen!” Misha yells, “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, Jensen nods. He’s still concentrating on how to breathe quickly enough to revive himself without going to the opposite end of hyperventilating and panic. When Jared shifts his arm to hold Jensen’s hand in both of his, Jensen presses his fingers to the back of Jared’s knuckles in a weak squeeze, thankful he has that much strength.

Jared nearly crushes Jensen’s hand with how hard he grips back. “Holy shit, you scared us,” Jared laughs hysterically.

Jensen doesn’t pull away; the compression of his skin and bones is a welcome feeling after not being able to move for five minutes. “I’m fine,” he croaks out.

“Yeah, you’re real fine.” Misha sits back on his haunches. “Nearly killed yourself in the process.”

Jensen smiles a little. “That’s what I’ve got you for.”

“And what would happen if I wasn’t here?”

His gaze slides to Jared and, once again, he feels warmth cover him in their instant connection. He acknowledges to himself that, while he could feel Misha’s powers working through his system, the second Jared touched his shoulder, it had all surged together with a force that pulled him back to life.

“Whatever,” Misha says with a roll of his eyes and wave of his hand. “No more talking. Straight to the hospital.”

“I’ll be fine.” Jensen clears his throat when his words are still rough around the edges. “I’m okay.”

Misha touches Jensen’s bicep for a second and shakes his head. “Yeah, maybe, but just do yourself a favor and do something right.”

Jensen struggles to sit up and then stand without getting dizzy, yet Jared is right there to help him up with strong arms around his waist and back. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

“Maybe you ought to at least get checked out,” Jared suggests. “You smacked your noggin pretty hard.”

He reaches back to feel the crown of his head and it’s sore without much else of incident. “It seems okay.”

“Just … let me take you?” Jared asks with a sigh. “It’ll make me feel better. And Misha. Just to be sure?”

“What about the case?”

“There are a dozen guys out here and Misha.”

“Are you saying Misha’s not a guy?” By the end of his question, Jensen is beginning to smirk, and Jared follows suit.

“What kind of skeletons are in his closet?”

“Plenty, but you really don’t wanna dig in there.”

“Probably not. But what I really do want is for you to get your noggin checked out, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen agrees. “Just so long as you stop calling it my noggin.”



Jensen sits on the medical bench with an ice pack to the back of his head as a nurse checks his vitals. He’s not paying her any attention; Jared is stalking in the hallway, just outside the space they’ve taken Jensen to in the ER, consumed with a call on his cell. Jared has been silent for a little while before he rattles off a few comments, glances inside to Jensen, and gets back to walking back and forth, only stopping to flash his badge at a nurse’s assistant who insists he take his call elsewhere.

Another minute and the nurse, a middle-aged woman with swift hands and greying hair tied high on the back of her head, takes Jensen’s blood pressure. She tsks when she reports it’s far too high for a man his age and is especially troubling for an empath that can be triggered even worse at the drop of a hat.

As she asks general questions about his health, Jensen continues to watch Jared and knows what’s lifting his pressure right now.

“What about work?” she asks.

“What about it?” he mumbles back.

“Have there been any changes there to explain the spike? Or in your personal life?”

“Both?” he harshly smiles. She lifts an eyebrow with a stern look, so he just waves towards the doorway where Jared is now standing still with one hand on his hip as he continues talking on his phone. “He’s kind of new, in both, and I’m struggling to adjust.”

The nurse now smiles sympathetically, soft lines framing her eyes and mouth. “It can take a while.”

“Says you,” he grumbles.

She pulls off her latex gloves and sets two fingers at Jensen’s pulse point. Within seconds, he feels relaxed, like he’s inhaled fresh air for the time in weeks. She’s an Empath, too, which does even more to settle Jensen’s nerves, knowing he can talk about matters that she would understand.

“What court are you?”

She shrugs, like it’s not bother, no matter how awkward Jensen feels asking. “Pacemum. Health care is a pretty decent context for pacifiers, right?”

“Not too bad,” he replies with a small smile.

“And you?”

One long breath steadies him, because it’s been so long since he’s truly admitted to it. “Psychometric.”

“In homicide,” she says, nodding then motioning towards Jared still in the hallway. “I can see the trouble. Especially here.”

“It’s been a week,” he offers. Lord knows he wishes he’d adapted by now.

“Well, it depends on the other party. He seems to be real bound to you.”

“Why do you …”

“It’s a powerful feeling floating between you.”

Jensen clears his throat and glances away from both Jared and the nurse, not wanting to contemplate what is really possible here. “What are you saying?”

“Siring?”

Jensen relives the crux of each connection he’s felt with Jared and then shakes them all out, as if truly considering them. Siring is an old wives' tale, he’s sure: a sudden, enduring connection to one of your kind. Besides, even if it were real, it’s said to only happen once in a lifetime, and Jensen was certain he had that with his sister before …

“No, no, no, we can’t,” Jensen insists with a rough laugh.

“You said earlier that you were taking on his concern while you were linking with the body. It’s very likely that his connection remains open at all times, making you vulnerable during other links.”

He reconsiders the chance that it’s true, and realizes it makes sense even when he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. “We couldn’t, though. He’s not-he’s Null. That’s impossible.”

“I’m a Pacemum working in a hospital, and you came in here because you nearly died reliving a man’s murder. This world is nothing but possibilities.” She pats his knee and steps away when Jared enters the area. “He’s all yours,” she tells Jared.

“He’ll be okay?” Jared asks.

“Yes, I’ll live,” Jensen grumbles.

The nurse snorts. “So long as you don’t knock him out for his attitude, yes, he will live.”

Jared chuckles. “I might not be able to restrain myself, but it’s good to know.”

As the nurse leaves, she touches Jared’s arm and it’s obvious he notices her effect. He watches her go then slowly turns back to Jensen with wide eyes.

“She’s Pacemum,” Jensen explains plainly.

Still confused, Jared points over his shoulder to where the nurse had gone. “So, she just pacified me?”

Jensen removes his ice pack and stretches his neck. “Peacefully, but yeah. To the point, that’s it.”

“You’re really going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I just gotta rest a lot. And stay away from you apparently.” He’d meant for it to be a joke to cover up the fact, but it lands poorly and now they’re both wracked with disappointment. “You know,” he explains, “There’s a reason people like me can’t be a real detective. Not least of which is we’re not entirely trusted with interrogation. Misha’s powers in the wrong hands could convince suspects to plead guilty to the worst of things.”

Jared nods awkwardly. “Yeah, I remember hearing about that a long time ago.”

“But also because we’re a danger to ourselves, too.” He can’t believe his mouth is running off so quickly to tell Jared all of this. He figures, though, that Jared is owed the explanation after all of their push and pull in the last week. “If I were on the front lines, too close to the real criminals … I wouldn’t survive. I barely do now.”

Jared appears just as shocked that Jensen’s said it. Especially when he asks, “And where do I figure into all of what you’ve just said?”

He dumps the ice bag in the nearby garbage and looks up to Jared. “I don’t know. Siring maybe?”

Jared glances around the room and finally stares at Jensen, eyes soft and wide. “Like a direct link?”

Jensen shrugs. “If it’s … strong enough, I pick it up. And it’s bad where you’re concerned.”

“Bad,” Jared mumbles, glancing away. “Right, as a cognitive.”

There’s a sudden dip in Jensen’s stomach and he’s certain that he failed in this conversation, so he changes direction. “What was the mess on the phone?”

Jared takes the nurse’s abandoned stool and rests his arms on his knees. “They finally named the suspect: Jeremy Wilkins. Got into his apartment and found out he’d been stalking Ellen for months. A pair of boots in his laundry room match prints found in the back of her closet.”

“He was waiting for her,” Jensen says, filling in the gap of the bad lights in her bedroom.

“They found a copy of her keys in a case in the apartment.” Jared holds up his hand when Jensen is about to talk again. “Which is how he got in and out without any sign. Also how he had audio running throughout her apartment to listen to her every day.”

Jensen inhales sharply, poorly amazed by how long this guy’s plan had run. “He called her sugar, because he heard her dad say it.”

Jared smiles softly with a nod. “Yeah, Misha said you’d want to know that.”

He begins to smile in return. “What about the jogger?”

“The guy hasn’t copped to it yet, but Misha can sense that it was to cover up their run-in the night of Ellen’s murder.”

“But they’ve got enough for the first one?” Jensen asks, hopeful yet worried that he’ll be told otherwise.

Jared pats Jensen’s knee and there’s an immediate rush of warmth up Jensen’s thigh. It settles heavily in his gut then turns ice cold when Jared pulls his hand away with a frown, like he now realizes what one touch really means now. “Yeah, Worthy thinks they do.”

“That’s great, really.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jared suddenly stands and fetches his keys from his pocket. “Well, you’re probably tired of sitting in the ER. We should get you home. I mean, you should get there, to rest, and stuff.”

Jensen agrees and stays quiet with Jared as he’s discharged, out to the parking lot, and all the way to his place. The ride itself feels long with the low hum of the radio filling the space between them, but once they pull up to his house, Jensen wishes they had more time so he could have drummed up the courage to say something.

Once parked, Jared taps his fingers on the steering wheel, nervous energy riling them both up. “I probably should have taken you to the department to get your car.”

“The doctor actually said I shouldn’t be driving. With the concussion and all.”

Nodding, Jared weakly smiles. “Yeah, good point.”

“Well,” Jensen says awkwardly. “Congratulations on working your first homicide case.”

Jared snorts and nods, still looking out the windshield. “I missed all the good stuff. Like getting the bad guy in cuffs.”

Jensen can read that Jared isn’t blaming Jensen at all, just the situation going the way it did. “Yeah, but you were the one with the lead on the jogger. Without that, who knows where we’d be.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“You did a really great job out there. You should be proud of that.”

Jared glances over and they maintain eye contact long enough that Jensen can vividly feel the pride spinning inside Jared’s mind and how grateful he is that Jensen’s said this much. But Jared also seems to wonder why Jensen is still in the car, as if he wants Jensen to just go and end the day where it is.

It sets Jensen into a whole new headspace and his fingers twitch against the door handle. First, though, he forces himself to say, “What you said the other night, about the connection when we first met, I believe you. I didn’t want to, but … you know …”

“Things change?” Jared offers. There’s a little bit of attitude behind his tone, but not enough to make this conversation even more tense than it is.

Jensen looks out the passenger side window and searches for anything but the reflection in his periphery of Jared still watching him. “Something like that.”

With a small dash of hope that Jensen instantly feels yet wants to push away, Jared tips his head in thought. “Have things changed here?”

Jensen takes a few moments to look at Jared-really looks and considers how Jared’s hope begins to dwindle into nerves and slight disappointment. He blinks and faces the windshield, unable to put words together. He only manages, “I just,” and minutely shakes his head, knowing he doesn’t want to shut Jared out again. But it’s all he knows how to do.

“Right,” Jared says then clears his throat.

Jensen opens his mouth to speak, but Jared beats him to it.

“It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? All you do is pick up these links with people, but you’re shit at making real connections.”

He slowly turns back to Jared. He’s weighed down by not only Jared’s disappointment, but his own as well; this isn’t where he wanted to be at this age-lost and impotent with living, human emotions.

Just as Jensen’s prepared to answer, his cell phone rings. He pulls it out of his jacket to Misha on the other line. As the tone continues to ring harshly, Jensen motions with it and frowns at Jared. “I should take this.”

“Yeah, sure, have a good night,” Jared replies with a small, fake smile.

As Jensen walks further from the curb, the link between them fades and Jensen is no longer filled with dread and disappointment. He’s exhausted beyond anything as all of today crashes upon him, but he’s free to take Misha’s call.

He mindlessly mmhmms to all of Misha’s concerns and mother-henning, and gets to the couch with his cat jumping into his lap to plant herself against his chest with a loud purr.

Her contentment with him being home soothes his aching muscles and seconds later, he’s out.

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