Tell the Ones That Need to Know 2/5
One foot in and one foot back
It’s not easy falling asleep. He feels like the room is mocking him. Half of the space still displays his high school accomplishments in ribbons, trophies, and plaques, while the other half is full of packed boxes and random items his parents don’t have space for in the rest of the house. He stares at the ceiling, at the walls, at the insides of his eyelids. He feels like he’s just asleep when he hears a heavy thump outside the door.
Jared gets up and checks to his left and right but the hallway’s empty. As he turns back to the room, he hears low curses from the floor below so he creeps down the stairs and to the only place he spies light. The kitchen is illuminated by the glow of an open refrigerator door with hands working through the shelves. Jared sighs while rubbing his eyes. “Woke me up, you punk.”
“No leftovers?”
His mouth drops because it’s not his sister’s voice, and it’s not his sister’s head that pops into view to watch him.
“How much you eat, tubby?”
“Tubby?” he parrots back on a whisper. The voice disappears with the head back into the fridge and Jared blurts out madly, “Chad?”
The face appears again, looking more than smug as he chews around a cheese stick. “Oh baby, I love how you say it.”
“What’re you? You’re here? Why’re you here?”
Chad drops down to the extended counter with an armful of snacks then pulls out his keys, working a travel Swiss army knife open to sliver off pieces of cheese to fold into edges of cracked wheat bread. “I’m here to show you a good time, buddy.” He smirks, lifts an eyebrow, and then happily munches on one of many mini cheese sandwiches.
“You came all the way here? At ass o’clock, to take me out?”
Chad looks confused for a second then gets sarcastic. “Dude, you think I know what time it is? I don’t function on watches.”
“Chad,” he starts, sounding tired yet stern. “You did not fly down to Texas to take me out. We haven’t gone out in over a year.”
He tosses a piece of cheese at Jared’s face. “Yeah, and whose fault is that, pussy?”
Jared stares at the piece of food then nudges it out of his space and into Chad’s. “Guy, we got busy.”
Chad snorts, “Yeah, you got busy. I’m still free to be your second-in-command.” His finger flattens the piece of cheese between them and he sucks it off without delay. Jared stares with slight horror. Chad pops one last mangled cheese sandwich into his mouth and guzzles down a can of soda. He slams the can down, belches, and smiles. “You ready Pada-lucky?”
“We are not going out.”
“Dude, come on,” he argues with hands spread out. “I just wanna show you something, yeah?” He stands and marches off to the front door.
Jared waits a few seconds, finally taking a moment to consider that Chad is in his mom’s house, in the middle of the night, for no good reason whatsoever. Chad’s up to trouble and Jared’s not certain he wants to join in. Except that Chad starts calling for him and is certain to wake up the whole house if he continues. “Jesus,” Jared says on a hush. He hurries into the living room and finds Chad at the front door, hand on the knob.
“You ready, princess?”
“I’m not going anywhere like this?” he argues, motioning to his sleep pants and worn-out tee.
Chad kicks a pair of running shoes across the way. “C’mon. It’ll be a quick little trip. Be back before morn. You won’t have to bother with anyone else.”
He grumbles, but slides them on and moves closer to Chad. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
There’s a sharp smirk on Chad’s face as he reels the door open and pushes Jared right through.
The second he’s out the door, his mind is blown and his eyes are wide. He’s not on his parents’ front porch, he’s not in Texas, and he’s really not dressed appropriately. Instead, he is stuck in the dark rain of a cemetery … a few moments’ thought and he realizes it’s a fake cemetery, it’s a set, and it’s too convincingly like ones they filmed on for five years of Supernatural.
Jared can’t move. He just stares as he catches so many people pass that he knew like family, once upon a time. There’s Bob and Eric and Jeremy and the prop girls and PAs and stunt coordinators and lighting and camera guys. “Hey,” he says with a hand out, but a couple PAs walk right by, his hand swiping through them like it’s not there. Jared walks further on set, watching as everyone brushes by him like they don’t know him. Like he’s not someone they worked with for years. He turns into Jeremy rushing at him and then right through him.
His breathing stops then speeds up and he blinks so many times before he can turn to the crowd and realize this is absolutely not true life.
He spots Jensen being prepped. One of the hair ladies, Shannon, he thinks, is plucking Jensen’s hair into the best fauxhawk possible considering the rainmaker drenching everything on set. She moves onto Jared, flicking pieces off his forehead …
His eyes burn for the sheer impossibility of this moment. He has to be dreaming, has to be, because right now he’s watching himself in a moment that is distinctly Season 3. They’re filming Season 3. In the cemetery in the rain, when he and Jensen couldn’t focus through the ridiculous downpour, no matter how often everyone begged them to bear down and get the scene done. He sees himself, rocking hips and swaying hands, humming some random song.
Jensen calls out, “Why don’t you try focusing your memory on your lines?”
Jared replies on a laugh. “I’m good. You stick to your job.”
“I’m doing my job. What’re you doing?”
“Working my inner energy out.”
“Maybe you could work on shutting your mouth?”
“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” Jared asks on a smile.
With a roll of his eyes, Jensen brings the shotgun to his head and mocks a gunshot, tipping his head to the side. Everyone’s laughing, though Jensen’s hiding his amusement. Until Jared’s giggles take over and Jensen’s smiling, turning to Jared, and in seconds he’s dancing and singing along with him.
Jared looks for Chad, but he’s on his own to watch this memory flash before his eyes. His young eyes, happy and bright, responding to Jensen and winking through jokes as they get ready to work. He watches as they riff so easily, bantering in character while bringing so much believability to their actions and voices. It’s been so long since he’s felt that, the give-and-take and give-some-more. The effortless way he and Jensen worked off each other. He’s felt lost these last few years, trying to find that same connection on other sets. Ones he tries to make like the one he loved for five years, but they never come close.
As action dies down and cut is called, Jared moves to follow Jensen and himself as they head off to the trailers, laughing, patting hands, and just being so typically them. But Chad stops him, hand heavy around the elbow and scooting away.
"What is this?” Jared asks sharply, almost worried.
“You don’t know your own show when you see it?”
“No, I know … it’s Supernatural, yeah. But. I’m dreaming … but this is,” he trails off while looking around him. The noise is pitch-perfect to the fuss of the show and all the voices are fresh, the colors rich. His words come out quiet, “This can’t be a dream.”
“Nope. It’s the past.”
Jared snorts then sighs. “Obviously, jackass. I know this ain’t the future.”
“Nah, someone else does that.”
He stares for a second. “What?”
Chad tugs on the elbow again and walks him away. “You ready for your next stop?”
Jared yanks his arm back and stalls. “Wait, what do you mean another stop?”
“C’mon, man. We ain’t got all night.” Chad walks close, pushes at Jared’s back. “Three stops each. I gotta get two more in. Vamanos!” He shoves hard to force Jared out a nearby set door and they’re tumbling into a conference room. Bright lights and creamy colors contrasting with the dark cemetery they just left.
A tiny noise reverberates through the room as he tries to see beyond a sea of heads, all buzzing with excitement. Then a voice comes through the speaker system. “Now that you live together, who takes longer to get ready in the morning?”
Jensen’s voice is flat as can be, but picking up as he says, “Every day ... I wait. I could write a book. 'Waiting on Jared'.”
Jared moves around the few gathered standing room only participants and finds the source of attention in time to hear himself say, “I take longer … but because … I have dogs. I like to shove them out the door.” His voice keeps going, his young face still animated and defending. Jared just stares, seeing himself and Jensen like they’d been for so many conventions and interviews. Sitting casually in tall chairs and smirking at each other, playing off one another in a Grumpy vs. Dopey debacle … and then Jared’s smirking, remembering when Jensen gave them that label. 2009, Chicago he thinks, and then it’s like the levee busts open and he knows exactly where he is. Same city, one year earlier.
He catches the last few words of his rambling. “Just out of the shower and all glistening - ”
“And I’m in the car. Waiting,” Jensen cuts in.
The crowd laughs, giddy and bustling at how easily they work off each other. And Jared’s so close to a laugh. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, because this is still absolute insanity that he is seeing this moment so vividly, but he takes it. He stands to the side and continues listening and watching, seeing how lively they both are. And he’s awed by the shine between them, barely remembering until now how much they really genuinely liked and cared for each other.
His thoughts are interrupted by a girl asking if they’ll keep in touch, be “as good of friends,” once the show’s over. He’s frowning, knowing he hasn’t seen Jensen in person for a couple years …
“Block his calls.”
“I’m just gonna fall off the face of the earth,” Jensen replies to Jared’s off-handed comment.
Jared hasn’t talked to him in so many months he can’t count them right now.
“I mean, no, you know? What’s the point.”
“I’ll change my numbers,” Jared says.
“I’ll change the locks.”
Then he’s laughing, light and happy. “My house!”
Jared feels his heart clench as Jensen rolls his eyes. It’s all a joke, all for show, to make the fans laugh. But he feels the reality that that’s exactly what happened.
As the panel ends and the guys walk off stage, Jared is torn. He wants to see more of Jensen and him together. Yet, he can feel anxiety building with just the one conversation about them losing touch. He doesn’t have much choice when Chad appears at his side and shuffles him off to one of the back rooms where convention staff leads the guys to settle before photos.
People are moving around them, leaving them to their own space. Jensen’s downing a bottle of water while Jared slides up, hands on Jensen’s shoulders and shucking him back and forth. “Your mouth’s startin’ trouble your ass can’t handle,” Jared says with a smug laugh.
Jensen smirks without turning around. His fingers squeeze the water bottle before he takes another sip. “Think I’m just being honest.”
“You take just as much time as I do, you little queen.”
“Impossible,” Jensen laughs as he turns to Jared. He drops his voice and his hands push through Jared’s hair playfully rough. “You totally Marcia Brady this up with one thousand brushes.”
Jared moves in, winding an arm around Jensen’s neck and the other hand goes to scratch over Jensen’s hair. “You jealous of my luscious locks?”
Jensen’s pushing back, but laughing, finally going limp against Jared’s hold. His tone levels out. “Yes, exactly that. I envy the grease ball.”
The voices fall quiet and he can no longer hear it but he can see how they’re laughing and smiling, playful with easy touches and short shoves. Chad shows at his side, hands tucked in his pockets. “Are you gonna cry?”
Jared looks over, surprised that Chad’s voice sounds more impressed than mocking. “What? No.”
“I’ve never made anyone cry. Future always does. Present got a few. You’d be my first. C’mon. Do it,” Chad eggs on. “I get steak knives.”
“What?” he asks, getting more enraged. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
He hears Chad’s explanation but doesn’t look at him because he watches everyone shuffle around him, leading the guys out of the room, fussing over them and where they need to be next. “Management has me on an easier game plan because no one ever cries over past. They get pissy and then maybe kinda sad with the memories, but usually they’re just crabby. A few have been happy. Some people like their pasts,” he ends with a shrug.
Jared stares at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t you get it, J? Don’t you see what this is?”
“No, I have no idea.”
Chad tsks and sighs before he snaps his fingers and they’re suddenly in Jared’s living room. The living room he had in Vancouver. Jared knows it perfectly, even with the way the light is dim and there’s darkness filtering in through the windows, even though the room is fairly bare compared to how they had lived in that space.
Jared gulps as he walks further into the room and finds himself on the ground with Jensen laid out next to him. There is no furniture, just moving boxes, takeout containers, a few empty beers, and two best friends on their last night. He’s gone so long forgetting this night, but right now, he knows it by heart.
“I don’t need this okay,” he bitches at Chad. “Whatever game this is, you can cut it out. I’m done with the mindfucks.”
Chad shakes his head with a smile and he looks onto the scene before them. Jensen and Jared and sprawled across the floor, laughing and drinking, getting warm with beer in their bellies, and going soft with all their memories of living in that house. “It was your last hurrah.”
He grumbles, “I know what it is,” as he looks down on Chad.
“A few beers, a few laughs,” Chad says while nodding at the guys on the floor. “Supposed to enjoy your last night in the house.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Did you?” He’s looking up to Jared, eyebrow up high.
Jared ignores the words but he does stare right back. He doesn’t want to watch this scene.
When Chad keeps his eyes on the scene, Jared gives up and watches, even though he sighs when he does it. Chad’s voice is a bit taunting, but it’s not loud or pushy. “When’s the last time you talked to Jensen?”
He clears his throat. “Been a while.”
“Why’s that?”
“Been busy.”
Chad clucks his tongue. “Busy not living? Leading that fantastic life where you don’t work and you hate your girlfriend?”
“I didn’t hate her,” Jared argues back with a scowl.
Crossing his arms, he chuckles. “Right, you just didn’t like her as much as the others.” Jared crosses his arms as well and Chad smirks. “As much as Jensen.”
Just then, Jared sees how his arm reaches out, the fingers dangling down Jensen’s chest as they laugh with the memory of a morning Jensen was shocked awake by a daddy long legs creeping up his stomach. Jensen’s smacking his arm away and pushing him over, but they’re both smiling and laughing. He’s got Jared on his stomach and he’s spread across his back, slipping one arm under his chest, the other pulling Jared’s arm back as he teases him. They’re wrestling, but it’s not heated and it’s not rough. Just the right amount of play to make them laugh and tumble over each other until Jared’s hand knocks a can over and beer spills across the wood.
They’re laughing again, even while they clean it up, while Jensen gets them another beer, and while Chad shakes his head. “You get it yet?”
Jared doesn’t say anything. Partly because he doesn’t want to, but so much because he’s struck with how vivid this memory is now that he actually bothers to think about it. It’s been so long since he considered how they were in their last hours together, when they knew it was the end of the ride but held promise for so much else.
“Ghost of Gaybag Past.”
Jared turns quickly. “What?”
“Like Christmas Past, but, you know. Gay.” Jared glares and Chad tosses his hands out to point at the guys in front of them. “Look at you two. Jesus.”
There are casual touches, soft hands squeezing shoulders, one of Jared’s swiping over Jensen’s head before patting it, Jensen nudging a toe at Jared’s foot. All random, but caring and pointed, growing private. They clean up their things, tossing everything into garbage bags before walking off to their bedrooms, separating at the stairs. Jared turns back to Jensen, pulls him into a tight, warm hug and Jensen returns it without question. They stand there for long moments, holding each other, heads together.
“Gonna miss ya, man,” Jared says quietly.
“I know. You’re gonna have a hard time finding a roommate as perfect as me.”
He laughs, repositioning his head against Jensen’s. “Nah, could never replace ya,” he says honestly.
Jensen pulls back, hands holding Jared’s face as they watch each other. “I gave you shit so much over the years. You know it’s not - ”
“No, c’mon,” Jared starts, shaking his head. “Dean this right up. No chick flick moments.”
He’s chuckling but staying in Jared’s space. “I’ll take your Dopey ass forever. You know that, right?” The corner of Jared’s mouth tips up and Jensen moves in, close. This is moment that Jared remembers so well, how his face tips down and Jensen’s eyes flash away and read disappointment and discomfort in the moment. Jensen shifts to kiss at Jared’s cheek with a pat on the back.
Jensen’s smile is strained, but he’s working it well enough to move back. Jared’s murmurs a goodnight, pats Jensen’s shoulder as he turns to the stairs.
The house is quiet with both men in their rooms, but Jared can hear his heartbeat flying. Chad pounds a hand to Jared’s back and they’re suddenly upstairs, in Jared’s room. They watch him stare at the ceiling, chest rising high with his hard breathing. They see how his eyes clench tight and flip back open. His head turns and Jared feels like this other him is staring at them, but he remembers what he was looking for, listening for, waiting on.
“Really fucked that one up.”
Jared takes a deep inhale and pushes past Chad. “Whatever, just end this shit.”
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Part Three
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