True Night
Title: True Night, Epilogue
Author name: frostian
Artist name: thruterryseyes
Genre: rps
Pairing: JA/JP
Rating: R for language and violence
Word count: ~49k
Warnings: Artistic license taken and abused.
Summary: Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.
Disclaimer: So much fiction, it could be spotted from an orbiting satellite!
San Antonio, Texas
July, 2012
Jared watched as the hair stylist put the final touches on Donald Hemingway, currently number two host for Living Large, San Antonio’s most popular morning show.
Jared couldn’t remember being so nervous for an interview, not even when he’d just broken into the entertainment industry and was desperate to make himself noticed.
“Mr. Padalecki, are you ready?” a PA asked, one of a dozen who’d swarmed over him earlier.
“Yes, thanks.”
Jared stood up from the stool and pulled off the makeup bib. He took another glance at the mirror, glad he'd managed to reclaim most of the weight he’d lost. When he was ready to be released back to the world, he found out he had sloughed off nearly twenty pounds. Jared was flabbergasted and had asked the discharge nurse to recheck the number.
He panicked at first, thinking how he was going to gain it all back for work, but when he realized he could never go back to Vancouver, Jared calmed down. And that went a long way for him to get a handle on his body and his physical needs.
The PA led him to the studio, which to his relief, felt comfortable even when it was crammed wall-to-wall with lights and personnel.
“There you are,” Reya Soto, the current chief host, said with a dazzling smile. “Thank you for waiting.”
“I’ve been working on television long enough to expect delays,” Jared said, grinning. “Which is why I brought a book.”
Reya’s smile grew. “Smart man.” She looked down at the notes in her hands. “So, are you ready? This is the first interview you’ve given since Seattle.”
“I’m ready, and I’ve been giving interviews, just to doctors.”
“True.” She pointed to a leather armchair. “That’s yours, and it’s long enough so your legs don’t fall asleep.”
“Thanks,” Jared said with genuine gratitude.
They got comfortable and soon Jared found himself looking at the camera behind Soto and its blinking red light which turned green in just few seconds.
“So, Mr. Padalecki, welcome back to San Antonio,” Soto said.
“Glad to be back,” Jared replied. “And I know that sounds like a lie considering it’s dead of July, but I’m being honest here.”
“But do you love San Antonio enough to never go back to Hollywood?”
“That decision was not based on who or where I love or love more,” Jared explained in a more hesitant manner. “It was based solely on what I wanted to do.”
“And acting was no longer an option?”
Jared shook his head. “I need to have certain amount of calm inside my head to act. And after what happened, I just couldn’t find that place. I know it all sounds like foofy crap, but it’s true. I just couldn’t bring myself to return to Hollywood. And it didn’t take long for me realize it was because I didn’t want to.”
“So, you decided to take a break and find out what you wanted to do next,” Soto prompted. “Which is perfectly understandable.”
“Yes, I came back home, which was exactly where I needed to be by the way,” Jared said. “And few months afterwards, I decided to start a business.”
“A restaurant,” Soto prompted. “Which isn’t so novel an idea.”
“No, not at all. My love for food is very well known. So, my desire to open one wasn’t at all a surprise to anyone who knows me.”
“But your desire to be a restaurateur and not an actor was.”
“Yeah, that was a shocker.”
“And the divorce?”
Jared couldn’t stop himself from wincing a little. “That wasn’t much of a surprise. Especially for Gen - you see - she knows me very well. And when I was discharged from the hospital … the man she married didn’t exist anymore.”
“Did you know that?”
Jared shook his head. “No, the truth is Gen realized it first. It was I who refused to see what had happened to us. I put up one hell of a fight, but there wasn’t a battle to begin with. You can’t look at a relationship that way and expect to keep it healthy and … clean.”
“Clean?” Soto echoed.
“Yeah, clean,” Jared repeated. “Relationships are messy and people are messier. We bring with us certain amount of baggage, and the people we marry … well, unless we’ve completely bamboozled them, they know what we bring to the table.”
“So, after Seattle, you brought something else to the marriage: something she couldn’t handle?”
“No, something I couldn’t handle,” Jared corrected gently. “And since I couldn’t deal with it or even voice it, how could Gen or anybody else deal with it?”
“What happened after that?”
“The divorce went through quickly, mercifully, and I drifted a bit more afterwards … but then the restaurant idea came around, and once I latched on that - I found my footing.”
“We all know better than to ask what happened during your stay with the military, but is there anything you can tell us?”
“They had really good food and a great gym.” Jared sat back and said, “People get this Dr. Strangelove notion, but the truth is their lives are routine. And most of it is completely recognizable since their jobs resemble ours a great deal.”
“But, you must admit, the Strangelove notion isn’t without merit.”
Jared shook his head. “No, it isn’t. But what else could the government do? Herd us into camps? Then sit back and watch what happens?”`
“Were you roomed with other patients? Or did they try to separate you as much as possible?”
“I had three roommates. The facilities weren’t big enough to give us all private rooms. Besides, it was better for all of us to have company. If we sat alone, we would’ve thought too much, and that’s never good.”
“Solitary confinement?”
Jared nodded. “It could feel like prison and I know for a fact there were others who didn’t handle it well. Not that I could blame them.”
“How did you manage?”
“I was damn tired,” Jared answered. “And hungry. I was also wounded so I didn’t get much of what was happening until weeks afterwards. By then most of the medical stuff was done, and they were more focused on helping me with my rehab.”
“Do you know how you were immune to the virus?”
Jared looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know how some people never catch the flu? How they sometimes go through life with barely a sneeze?”
“Too familiar, my brother’s one of those.”
“And that’s what I think happened,” Jared leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s just a pet theory of mine but this thing, whatever it was, had to behave like any other virus. It was probably one of the most destructive ones in human history, but in the end … it was a virus. And some people just had natural immunity.
“Whether the bas… its creator knew it or not, I don’t know. But I’d bet a week’s worth of paycheck that he didn’t.”
“Speaking of the man responsible for this tragedy, what is your personal opinion of Dr. Compton? Especially since you’ve actually stayed in his home for a while.”
“I am in no way competent enough to give a psychological viewpoint of what or who he was. I don’t know if anyone can.”
“But in your personal opinion?” Soto needled.
“I think he was arrogant beyond measure,” Jared answered promptly. “And if I met him today I’d probably beat him senseless for what he did not just to myself but to everyone who fell victim to his insane plans.”
“I don’t think you’re alone in feeling that.”
“No, and isn’t that a tragedy?” Jared’s face softened for a moment. “But I am also amazed by how some people reacted. I mean bravery beyond belief, making sacrifices no human being is expected to make. And for every one story reported - there were probably dozens that never made the papers.”
“You know of one?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure if the family wants it publicized so I don’t want to speak about it.”
“Understood. So how are you doing?”
“Doing a little better every day which is all I can ask for, honestly.”
“And your friend? Jensen?”
“He’s gone home and into hibernation,” Jared answered. “The dude needs more sleep than I do. And he deserves the rest.”
“So it wouldn’t surprise you to know he declined to be interviewed?”
Jared shook his head slowly but firmly. “No. All Jensen wanted was to catch some sun and rest. Also, eat. I know I was dreaming about food the way soldiers would about women.”
Soto threw back her head and laughed.
Jared’s grin returned and with it confidence. “Hey, I love food. And you know that!”
“I do.” Soto looked piercingly at her interviewee even as her smile remained genial. “So, about Jensen?”
“He needed some time off and so did I. It’s what we both wanted. And we need to process everything, you know?”
“That is a lot to process.”
“It’s … it’s almost as harrowing as what had happened. Because if you want to come to terms with what happened to you and what you did to survive - you have to think about it. And the last thing you want to do is just that: to think about it.”
“But you must, to a degree.”
“Yeah, there is no choice there: not if you want to sleep through the night.” Jared sat back and blew out a deep sigh. “I didn’t do that very well, if you want to know.”
“What happened? Or didn’t happen?”
“First, I ate my body weight. Then, I worked out like a fiend. Four hours a day and that’s seven days a week. I practically owned the gym. I’m so grateful everybody else at the compound was so patient with me. They let me do my reps and have my time on the treadmill, and nobody bothered me once.
“For my downtime I plowed through all the books available to us. We’re talking fiction, nonfiction, and even technical manuals. I learned how to wire a house, work on cars: you name it I read it.”
“And that wasn’t enough?”
Jared shook his head. “No, when it comes to the bad stuff there’s never enough things to do to stop you from thinking about what could have been.”
“You’re talking about the fact that you were the one who suggested visiting Seattle?”
Jared paled visibly. “Yeah, that. I mean … I just wanted to make Jensen happy and the next thing I know we’re in an episode of Supernatural with real, lethal consequences.
“The entire time I was kicking myself for putting us in this situation but Jensen? Never pointed a finger, not once. He just took charge and…”
“Became Dean Winchester?”
Jared blinked furiously, refusing to shed tears. “Yeah, kind of,” he said hoarsely. “He was the big brother - the larger-than-life guy who never thought of himself as a hero and because that was exactly what he was.
“The truth is I had a lot to process but it was just a drop compared to what Jensen had to deal with. You see, I was in a bit of a fog half the time and the other half: well, I was scared out of my mind. But Jensen? His feet never left earth. He knew from the get-go what to do, what needed to be done, and what we could actually do.”
“Could you elaborate on that please?”
“As scared as I was, I wanted to do a lot. But there was no way we could’ve done everything I wanted and come out alive. So, Jensen parsed out everything and figured what we could do for ourselves and for others.
“That, more than anything, was how we got out alive. And how we succeeded in bringing the antidote to the right people.”
“What happened when you did find the antidote? Or what you believed at that time was the cure?”
“I was so terrified I could’ve emptied out my bladder right then and there.”
“But after everything you’ve been…”
“Imagine the responsibility of finding the cure and trying to make sure it got to the right people before it was too late.”
Soto’s demeanor immediately turned somber. “I see.”
“Not an easy task,” Jared said with a huff. “But once we had it: we had it. There was nothing left to discuss. We had find some way to get it off Santos.”
“Without being killed by roving bands of infected people or the military for that matter.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much the situation.”
“Are you surprised that you succeeded?”
“Completely shocked, but so damn glad.”
“You and just about the rest of the world.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Jared said and slapped his knees. “And that went a long way in helping me deal with the aftermath.”
“Still…”
“Yeah, still. I was lucky on a scale I can’t even comprehend now. I still am damn lucky. I have great friends and family, and they ran through more than their share of hoops to make sure I was going to recover and recover fully.”
If Soto noticed how neatly he sidestepped the issue, she didn’t comment on it. “Is it true you still have to get weekly exams?”
Jared nodded. “Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt, both figuratively and literally, but what can you do?”
“Do you know what they do with the results?”
“I figure they keep tabs on everyone who was discharged,” Jared answered. “CDC has to have a database that keeps track of the virus and what it did to us.”
“And you don’t feel violated?”
“Not at all. Not even a drop.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I’ve seen firsthand what this virus does to people, to families … to an entire city. Hell, to the military who must have seen combat action before Seattle. This is something new to all of us: completely uncharted territory.”
“Do you think there will be further action?”
“To us, the survivors?” Jared paused for a moment and thought. He began hesitantly, “I can’t say for sure but the logistics on that would have to be pretty much herculean. There were more than ten thousand patients and to control that number of people after being released? I can’t see how that’s possible.”
“That makes sense,” Soto agreed. “How do you feel now?”
“How do I feel?” Jared echoed, looking surprised. “Um, I guess fine most of the time. I have bad days, but I knew that would happen. I guess I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”
“Maybe it has something to do with your sunny disposition.”
“Maybe,” Jared said, grinning widely. “I like to think it’s being back to Texas. You know, big sky, big room, big portions.”
“Again with the food!”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was obsessed with food.”
“I believe you. And that’s all the time we have. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Jared Padalecki, ex-thespian and current owner and creator of Staton, which is scheduled to open by the end of September.” Without warning, she shook Jared’s hand. “Thank you for joining us today.”
“Thanks for having me here.”
September, 2012
Jared looked over the balcony, keenly studying the throng currently gathered for pre-dinner specials. The waitstaff was kept on their toes, convincing Jared to hire more. If they were this strained during happy hours, they would definitely be swamped for the weekend dinner scene.
When the bar got crowded enough he was tempted to go down, walk among the clientele, shake hands, and make small talk. But Jared refrained at the last moment. They might not react so well to his presence. His fame was attractive, but Jared’s near-brush with death might turn off some customers who would otherwise continuously patronize the restaurant.
A gentle tap on his shoulder made Jared turn. “Hey, Ceci, how are you?”
The manager gave a huff of breath. “We are going to be in the bush and it’s only Tuesday!”
“We’re definitely hiring more staff,” Jared said. “I’m safe in assuming you still have the interview files?”
“Yep,” Ceci said. “And I’ve already drawn up a list of people I want to call back.”
“Good, do it tonight, when you get a breather.” Jared paused for a moment and corrected himself. “Or tomorrow morning if it gets too late.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s never too late to get a call about a job,” Ceci said. She looked down at the crowd. “I think hiring Jason as executive chef was the best idea you’ve had.”
Jared gave her an I-told-you-so look but gentled it with a crooked grin. “He’s amazing, right?”
“A New Yorker in San Antonio and he’s rocking the scene,” Ceci said, pointing at a table whose plates were being emptied at lightspeed. “And the vegetarian dishes are a phenomenal hit.”
Jared gave a low whistle of relief. “I have to admit I was worried about that. A vegetarian-friendly restaurant in the heart of meat country?”
“It was a big risk,” Ceci agreed, “but you were right. And the fish plates are being ordered at a dancing rate too.”
“Do you think this is going to work out? Or is it just a fad?”
Ceci leaned against the balcony and crossed her arms in a thoughtful pose. “When I first heard about Staton I thought, ‘another B-list celebrity trying to make it like J-Lo’. But then I read about what happened to you in Seattle, and what you wanted to build made perfect sense.”
Jared rubbed his face. “You know, I never googled myself after Utah. I just didn’t have the stomach.”
“Don’t worry,” Ceci said. “What I’ve read is pretty flattering. I honestly can’t believe you survived that hell. Or that you’re so … well…”
“Sane? Not a raving lunatic?” Jared supplied.
Ceci blushed. “You know what I mean. After all you’ve been through - you could’ve bought a small island to live out the rest of your days and nobody would’ve questioned why.”
“Do you really want to know what kept me up at night? I mean after we were rescued?”
Ceci leaned forward. “What?”
“That one guy - just one fucked up bastard - killed nearly fifteen thousand people. And he did it because he believed in God and that God told him to do it.”
“The Fourth Horseman,” Ceci said. “I couldn’t believe the media gave that bastard a nickname. My God, talk about bending over and taking it.”
Jared chuckled. “What would you have called him?”
“Fucker, or maybe dickless son of a bitch,” Ceci said promptly. “What he created was scary, but the guy? He was a coward, pure and simple.”
“That he was,” Jared said. But then he remembered the shack. “He was also crazy to a degree I can’t even begin to fathom.”
“Yeah, but he knew what he was doing. He thought he was doing the right thing, but let’s face it: he was playing judge, jury, and executioner. And something tells me he got off on that last part.”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
Ceci reached over and squeezed his arm. “Honey, listen to me, I’ve grown up in a town full of such fruitcakes. And they might scream and shout how humble they are, but inside? They love to judge. And if they had power over life and death - fifteen thousand deaths would not be considered an outrageous count.”
“Do you know some churches are actually claiming Compton was a prophet?”
Ceci made a rude noise. “I swear, there’s never a shortage of stupid people!”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Jared nudged Ceci. “Do you want to go downstairs? Schmooze with the common folks?”
Ceci placed a hand on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. “And ruin my Jimmy Choos?”
“Yeah, I know. But we gods do have to make such sacrifices when necessary.”
Ceci cracked a wide smile. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs and see what the fun people are doing.”
“It’ll give us a chance to scope out what’s selling and what’s not,” Jared added.
Ceci frowned. “Do we need to do that? It’s only happy hour.”
“It’s always good to know what the clients like and don’t like. And Jason would love us if we came to him with a list.”
Ceci rolled her eyes. “Him and his lists. But you’re right: he’ll love us if we do make one.”
With that the two wound their way down the stairs. And though they hadn’t planned it, their entrance to the main dining room was dramatic enough to catch most of the diners’ attention. So, it was easy for them to move about, asking questions and fielding ones. To Jared’s quiet gratitude, Ceci never left his side, radiating happiness while resting her hand on his forearm like an old fashioned belle.
And that went a long way into people being relaxed enough around Jared, even when he was within their comfort zone.
They didn’t have any chance to go upstairs when the dinner crowd began filtering in.
This became routine, and as the days passed into weeks Jared became more and more comfortable being up in front with the public. His ease was made greater by the fact that the restaurant was a solid success. The reviews were uniformly stellar, and though Jared’s fame was the initial draw, it was Jason’s talents that kept the diners coming back for more.
This gave Jared hope that Jensen, wherever he was, would read about Staton and give him an excuse to make contact.
His prayer was answered Christmas week. He was flipping through a stack of mail at the restaurant when he saw the familiar scrawl. For a moment his heart paced so quickly he actually felt pain. With stiff, uncooperative fingers, Jared opened the envelope.
There was a two-page letter and a bland business card.
Jared,
I just read about Staton. I’m proud of you, and before you ask: it’s going to be a success. I know it. So, take it easy.
Dr. Weston told me you wanted to talk to me, so it wasn’t the military that kept me from answering your e-mails. You probably know this, but I was released a month before you. As far as I could figure, either my immune system was very impressive or they found something that told them I wasn’t a threat to the general population.
They were wrong.
I came back to Dallas, vegged for a while, and then I tried to eat a bullet. I would’ve succeeded if Dad hadn’t come home early. For an old guy he’s pretty fucking strong. After taking the gun out of my hand, he forced me to have a talk with him.
I couldn’t even really begin to outline why I wanted to kill myself but I want you to know it had nothing to do with you.
It was because I couldn’t process what happened in Seattle. You see, I shut down completely when things went crazy then. It was my way of dealing with it, but after we were rescued, I couldn’t find my way out of the dark. And then I didn’t want to. This happened while I was still quarantined, and by the time I was released I was so tired of everything I set my mind to ending it.
Suicide is not a comforting thought but it is relaxing, as odd as that sounds. Once you make up your mind to kill yourself things get lighter. Not easier mind you, but you suddenly find yourself able to manage things because you just don’t give a fuck.
So, I wasn’t crying out for help when I put the barrel in my mouth: I was ready to go. But my Dad snapped me out of my fugue and forced me to see someone.
You think Texas is hot? Try Arizona desert during summertime.
I think I sweated out my suicidal tendencies more than anything. Things didn’t get easier for a long time after that. I didn’t expect it to either. You see just waking up from a nightmare isn’t enough: you have to crawl out of your bed, get dressed, and then step outside. I think that last part was the hardest because I didn’t know what was on the other side of the door and it terrified me.
But I did. I had to.
‘What choice do I have?’ was what got me through the hell that was Santos. So, I decided to use that mantra again.
It didn’t work, which sucked. But then I started volunteering at a ranch near the center. I like horses, always did. Not that I had a career goal of being a cowboy but working with them always made me feel good. And somewhere along the line things got better. Maybe it was the rhythm of the days or just the fact that I didn’t have to talk to people so much, but whatever the reason, I started to look forward to waking up and getting out of the house.
I got job offers from all over Hollywood but like you, I had no desire to go back. It was amazing while it lasted, but there were downsides to that life and you know all about that so I won’t get into it.
I was released on my own recognizance four months after I went in, but I stayed around the ranch. Melissa Hopkins, the owner, was a godsend. She let me putz around and work with her horses. She also fed me and gave me a roof over my head for which I’ll forever be grateful. It was also Melissa who answered the question that nearly drove me to my grave.
"How many monstrous things do you have to do before you become a monster?" I kept asking myself because I killed people. Yes, they were bugshit crazy but they were still human beings.
She told me bluntly, "One. The trick is not to remain a monster by doing it again."
I don't know why but what she said made sense. I got better and better, and even though it was slow going I finally stopped thinking about killing myself and started thinking about the future.
I bought the ranch and Melissa went to the one she owns in Idaho. She’s got three believe it or not. I’d like to think I got the cream of the crop!
So, now I got a ranch in Arizona and about a billion more freckles. I also lost even more weight and gained about three inches of calluses on my hands and feet.
Life is slow here but that’s okay. It’s not beautiful in the sense we’re used to but my God, it is beautiful. And on most days I can find peace, peace with what happened back then, but most importantly with what I did.
And that’s good, right?
Yours,
Jensen
PS: I watched that television interview you gave. You dumb fuck, you were never a burden. And it was your brain that got us through in one piece, remember?
Jared looked down at the business card and read the address and the number. The name of the ranch made him smile.
Winchester? What the hell? Couldn’t he come up with something more original?
He knew other people would read the letter as a kiss-off, but Jared knew better. Without saying much Jensen had shown everything that had happened after they separated. And for a private person to do so was a benediction because it meant Jensen trusted Jared with his most intimate emotions.
Also, there was the open invitation. This meant Jensen was giving him the choice: telling Jared he would wait.
Means we’ve got time and neither of us are going anywhere. Not after everything that had happened between us. Against us. For us.
Jared thumbed his cell, tempted to call. In the end, he desisted.
We have to find our peace separately. Then we can find it together.
Jared programmed Jensen’s phone number into his cell before tucking the business card into his wallet.
“Hey there, handsome,” Ceci said as she walked up to him. She saw the radiant smile on his face and asked, “Got good news?”
“Yeah, the best,” Jared answered. He didn’t say anything else and Ceci knew well enough not to pry.
The End
Conclusion * Author's Notes & Soundtrack
Author name: frostian
Artist name: thruterryseyes
Genre: rps
Pairing: JA/JP
Rating: R for language and violence
Word count: ~49k
Warnings: Artistic license taken and abused.
Summary: Jared and Jensen take a road trip to Seattle only to witness what looks like the Apocalypse overwhelm the city. They manage to escape to an island only to discover the situation on Santos to be worse than Seattle. But they cannot leave, as the infected roam freely and the military has set up blockades around the island. Faced with immeasurable horror and growing desperation Jared and Jensen plan an escape, not only to save themselves but the sick who are quickly turning into homicidal psychopaths.
Disclaimer: So much fiction, it could be spotted from an orbiting satellite!
San Antonio, Texas
July, 2012
Jared watched as the hair stylist put the final touches on Donald Hemingway, currently number two host for Living Large, San Antonio’s most popular morning show.
Jared couldn’t remember being so nervous for an interview, not even when he’d just broken into the entertainment industry and was desperate to make himself noticed.
“Mr. Padalecki, are you ready?” a PA asked, one of a dozen who’d swarmed over him earlier.
“Yes, thanks.”
Jared stood up from the stool and pulled off the makeup bib. He took another glance at the mirror, glad he'd managed to reclaim most of the weight he’d lost. When he was ready to be released back to the world, he found out he had sloughed off nearly twenty pounds. Jared was flabbergasted and had asked the discharge nurse to recheck the number.
He panicked at first, thinking how he was going to gain it all back for work, but when he realized he could never go back to Vancouver, Jared calmed down. And that went a long way for him to get a handle on his body and his physical needs.
The PA led him to the studio, which to his relief, felt comfortable even when it was crammed wall-to-wall with lights and personnel.
“There you are,” Reya Soto, the current chief host, said with a dazzling smile. “Thank you for waiting.”
“I’ve been working on television long enough to expect delays,” Jared said, grinning. “Which is why I brought a book.”
Reya’s smile grew. “Smart man.” She looked down at the notes in her hands. “So, are you ready? This is the first interview you’ve given since Seattle.”
“I’m ready, and I’ve been giving interviews, just to doctors.”
“True.” She pointed to a leather armchair. “That’s yours, and it’s long enough so your legs don’t fall asleep.”
“Thanks,” Jared said with genuine gratitude.
They got comfortable and soon Jared found himself looking at the camera behind Soto and its blinking red light which turned green in just few seconds.
“So, Mr. Padalecki, welcome back to San Antonio,” Soto said.
“Glad to be back,” Jared replied. “And I know that sounds like a lie considering it’s dead of July, but I’m being honest here.”
“But do you love San Antonio enough to never go back to Hollywood?”
“That decision was not based on who or where I love or love more,” Jared explained in a more hesitant manner. “It was based solely on what I wanted to do.”
“And acting was no longer an option?”
Jared shook his head. “I need to have certain amount of calm inside my head to act. And after what happened, I just couldn’t find that place. I know it all sounds like foofy crap, but it’s true. I just couldn’t bring myself to return to Hollywood. And it didn’t take long for me realize it was because I didn’t want to.”
“So, you decided to take a break and find out what you wanted to do next,” Soto prompted. “Which is perfectly understandable.”
“Yes, I came back home, which was exactly where I needed to be by the way,” Jared said. “And few months afterwards, I decided to start a business.”
“A restaurant,” Soto prompted. “Which isn’t so novel an idea.”
“No, not at all. My love for food is very well known. So, my desire to open one wasn’t at all a surprise to anyone who knows me.”
“But your desire to be a restaurateur and not an actor was.”
“Yeah, that was a shocker.”
“And the divorce?”
Jared couldn’t stop himself from wincing a little. “That wasn’t much of a surprise. Especially for Gen - you see - she knows me very well. And when I was discharged from the hospital … the man she married didn’t exist anymore.”
“Did you know that?”
Jared shook his head. “No, the truth is Gen realized it first. It was I who refused to see what had happened to us. I put up one hell of a fight, but there wasn’t a battle to begin with. You can’t look at a relationship that way and expect to keep it healthy and … clean.”
“Clean?” Soto echoed.
“Yeah, clean,” Jared repeated. “Relationships are messy and people are messier. We bring with us certain amount of baggage, and the people we marry … well, unless we’ve completely bamboozled them, they know what we bring to the table.”
“So, after Seattle, you brought something else to the marriage: something she couldn’t handle?”
“No, something I couldn’t handle,” Jared corrected gently. “And since I couldn’t deal with it or even voice it, how could Gen or anybody else deal with it?”
“What happened after that?”
“The divorce went through quickly, mercifully, and I drifted a bit more afterwards … but then the restaurant idea came around, and once I latched on that - I found my footing.”
“We all know better than to ask what happened during your stay with the military, but is there anything you can tell us?”
“They had really good food and a great gym.” Jared sat back and said, “People get this Dr. Strangelove notion, but the truth is their lives are routine. And most of it is completely recognizable since their jobs resemble ours a great deal.”
“But, you must admit, the Strangelove notion isn’t without merit.”
Jared shook his head. “No, it isn’t. But what else could the government do? Herd us into camps? Then sit back and watch what happens?”`
“Were you roomed with other patients? Or did they try to separate you as much as possible?”
“I had three roommates. The facilities weren’t big enough to give us all private rooms. Besides, it was better for all of us to have company. If we sat alone, we would’ve thought too much, and that’s never good.”
“Solitary confinement?”
Jared nodded. “It could feel like prison and I know for a fact there were others who didn’t handle it well. Not that I could blame them.”
“How did you manage?”
“I was damn tired,” Jared answered. “And hungry. I was also wounded so I didn’t get much of what was happening until weeks afterwards. By then most of the medical stuff was done, and they were more focused on helping me with my rehab.”
“Do you know how you were immune to the virus?”
Jared looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know how some people never catch the flu? How they sometimes go through life with barely a sneeze?”
“Too familiar, my brother’s one of those.”
“And that’s what I think happened,” Jared leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s just a pet theory of mine but this thing, whatever it was, had to behave like any other virus. It was probably one of the most destructive ones in human history, but in the end … it was a virus. And some people just had natural immunity.
“Whether the bas… its creator knew it or not, I don’t know. But I’d bet a week’s worth of paycheck that he didn’t.”
“Speaking of the man responsible for this tragedy, what is your personal opinion of Dr. Compton? Especially since you’ve actually stayed in his home for a while.”
“I am in no way competent enough to give a psychological viewpoint of what or who he was. I don’t know if anyone can.”
“But in your personal opinion?” Soto needled.
“I think he was arrogant beyond measure,” Jared answered promptly. “And if I met him today I’d probably beat him senseless for what he did not just to myself but to everyone who fell victim to his insane plans.”
“I don’t think you’re alone in feeling that.”
“No, and isn’t that a tragedy?” Jared’s face softened for a moment. “But I am also amazed by how some people reacted. I mean bravery beyond belief, making sacrifices no human being is expected to make. And for every one story reported - there were probably dozens that never made the papers.”
“You know of one?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure if the family wants it publicized so I don’t want to speak about it.”
“Understood. So how are you doing?”
“Doing a little better every day which is all I can ask for, honestly.”
“And your friend? Jensen?”
“He’s gone home and into hibernation,” Jared answered. “The dude needs more sleep than I do. And he deserves the rest.”
“So it wouldn’t surprise you to know he declined to be interviewed?”
Jared shook his head slowly but firmly. “No. All Jensen wanted was to catch some sun and rest. Also, eat. I know I was dreaming about food the way soldiers would about women.”
Soto threw back her head and laughed.
Jared’s grin returned and with it confidence. “Hey, I love food. And you know that!”
“I do.” Soto looked piercingly at her interviewee even as her smile remained genial. “So, about Jensen?”
“He needed some time off and so did I. It’s what we both wanted. And we need to process everything, you know?”
“That is a lot to process.”
“It’s … it’s almost as harrowing as what had happened. Because if you want to come to terms with what happened to you and what you did to survive - you have to think about it. And the last thing you want to do is just that: to think about it.”
“But you must, to a degree.”
“Yeah, there is no choice there: not if you want to sleep through the night.” Jared sat back and blew out a deep sigh. “I didn’t do that very well, if you want to know.”
“What happened? Or didn’t happen?”
“First, I ate my body weight. Then, I worked out like a fiend. Four hours a day and that’s seven days a week. I practically owned the gym. I’m so grateful everybody else at the compound was so patient with me. They let me do my reps and have my time on the treadmill, and nobody bothered me once.
“For my downtime I plowed through all the books available to us. We’re talking fiction, nonfiction, and even technical manuals. I learned how to wire a house, work on cars: you name it I read it.”
“And that wasn’t enough?”
Jared shook his head. “No, when it comes to the bad stuff there’s never enough things to do to stop you from thinking about what could have been.”
“You’re talking about the fact that you were the one who suggested visiting Seattle?”
Jared paled visibly. “Yeah, that. I mean … I just wanted to make Jensen happy and the next thing I know we’re in an episode of Supernatural with real, lethal consequences.
“The entire time I was kicking myself for putting us in this situation but Jensen? Never pointed a finger, not once. He just took charge and…”
“Became Dean Winchester?”
Jared blinked furiously, refusing to shed tears. “Yeah, kind of,” he said hoarsely. “He was the big brother - the larger-than-life guy who never thought of himself as a hero and because that was exactly what he was.
“The truth is I had a lot to process but it was just a drop compared to what Jensen had to deal with. You see, I was in a bit of a fog half the time and the other half: well, I was scared out of my mind. But Jensen? His feet never left earth. He knew from the get-go what to do, what needed to be done, and what we could actually do.”
“Could you elaborate on that please?”
“As scared as I was, I wanted to do a lot. But there was no way we could’ve done everything I wanted and come out alive. So, Jensen parsed out everything and figured what we could do for ourselves and for others.
“That, more than anything, was how we got out alive. And how we succeeded in bringing the antidote to the right people.”
“What happened when you did find the antidote? Or what you believed at that time was the cure?”
“I was so terrified I could’ve emptied out my bladder right then and there.”
“But after everything you’ve been…”
“Imagine the responsibility of finding the cure and trying to make sure it got to the right people before it was too late.”
Soto’s demeanor immediately turned somber. “I see.”
“Not an easy task,” Jared said with a huff. “But once we had it: we had it. There was nothing left to discuss. We had find some way to get it off Santos.”
“Without being killed by roving bands of infected people or the military for that matter.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much the situation.”
“Are you surprised that you succeeded?”
“Completely shocked, but so damn glad.”
“You and just about the rest of the world.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Jared said and slapped his knees. “And that went a long way in helping me deal with the aftermath.”
“Still…”
“Yeah, still. I was lucky on a scale I can’t even comprehend now. I still am damn lucky. I have great friends and family, and they ran through more than their share of hoops to make sure I was going to recover and recover fully.”
If Soto noticed how neatly he sidestepped the issue, she didn’t comment on it. “Is it true you still have to get weekly exams?”
Jared nodded. “Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt, both figuratively and literally, but what can you do?”
“Do you know what they do with the results?”
“I figure they keep tabs on everyone who was discharged,” Jared answered. “CDC has to have a database that keeps track of the virus and what it did to us.”
“And you don’t feel violated?”
“Not at all. Not even a drop.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I’ve seen firsthand what this virus does to people, to families … to an entire city. Hell, to the military who must have seen combat action before Seattle. This is something new to all of us: completely uncharted territory.”
“Do you think there will be further action?”
“To us, the survivors?” Jared paused for a moment and thought. He began hesitantly, “I can’t say for sure but the logistics on that would have to be pretty much herculean. There were more than ten thousand patients and to control that number of people after being released? I can’t see how that’s possible.”
“That makes sense,” Soto agreed. “How do you feel now?”
“How do I feel?” Jared echoed, looking surprised. “Um, I guess fine most of the time. I have bad days, but I knew that would happen. I guess I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”
“Maybe it has something to do with your sunny disposition.”
“Maybe,” Jared said, grinning widely. “I like to think it’s being back to Texas. You know, big sky, big room, big portions.”
“Again with the food!”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was obsessed with food.”
“I believe you. And that’s all the time we have. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Jared Padalecki, ex-thespian and current owner and creator of Staton, which is scheduled to open by the end of September.” Without warning, she shook Jared’s hand. “Thank you for joining us today.”
“Thanks for having me here.”
September, 2012
Jared looked over the balcony, keenly studying the throng currently gathered for pre-dinner specials. The waitstaff was kept on their toes, convincing Jared to hire more. If they were this strained during happy hours, they would definitely be swamped for the weekend dinner scene.
When the bar got crowded enough he was tempted to go down, walk among the clientele, shake hands, and make small talk. But Jared refrained at the last moment. They might not react so well to his presence. His fame was attractive, but Jared’s near-brush with death might turn off some customers who would otherwise continuously patronize the restaurant.
A gentle tap on his shoulder made Jared turn. “Hey, Ceci, how are you?”
The manager gave a huff of breath. “We are going to be in the bush and it’s only Tuesday!”
“We’re definitely hiring more staff,” Jared said. “I’m safe in assuming you still have the interview files?”
“Yep,” Ceci said. “And I’ve already drawn up a list of people I want to call back.”
“Good, do it tonight, when you get a breather.” Jared paused for a moment and corrected himself. “Or tomorrow morning if it gets too late.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s never too late to get a call about a job,” Ceci said. She looked down at the crowd. “I think hiring Jason as executive chef was the best idea you’ve had.”
Jared gave her an I-told-you-so look but gentled it with a crooked grin. “He’s amazing, right?”
“A New Yorker in San Antonio and he’s rocking the scene,” Ceci said, pointing at a table whose plates were being emptied at lightspeed. “And the vegetarian dishes are a phenomenal hit.”
Jared gave a low whistle of relief. “I have to admit I was worried about that. A vegetarian-friendly restaurant in the heart of meat country?”
“It was a big risk,” Ceci agreed, “but you were right. And the fish plates are being ordered at a dancing rate too.”
“Do you think this is going to work out? Or is it just a fad?”
Ceci leaned against the balcony and crossed her arms in a thoughtful pose. “When I first heard about Staton I thought, ‘another B-list celebrity trying to make it like J-Lo’. But then I read about what happened to you in Seattle, and what you wanted to build made perfect sense.”
Jared rubbed his face. “You know, I never googled myself after Utah. I just didn’t have the stomach.”
“Don’t worry,” Ceci said. “What I’ve read is pretty flattering. I honestly can’t believe you survived that hell. Or that you’re so … well…”
“Sane? Not a raving lunatic?” Jared supplied.
Ceci blushed. “You know what I mean. After all you’ve been through - you could’ve bought a small island to live out the rest of your days and nobody would’ve questioned why.”
“Do you really want to know what kept me up at night? I mean after we were rescued?”
Ceci leaned forward. “What?”
“That one guy - just one fucked up bastard - killed nearly fifteen thousand people. And he did it because he believed in God and that God told him to do it.”
“The Fourth Horseman,” Ceci said. “I couldn’t believe the media gave that bastard a nickname. My God, talk about bending over and taking it.”
Jared chuckled. “What would you have called him?”
“Fucker, or maybe dickless son of a bitch,” Ceci said promptly. “What he created was scary, but the guy? He was a coward, pure and simple.”
“That he was,” Jared said. But then he remembered the shack. “He was also crazy to a degree I can’t even begin to fathom.”
“Yeah, but he knew what he was doing. He thought he was doing the right thing, but let’s face it: he was playing judge, jury, and executioner. And something tells me he got off on that last part.”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
Ceci reached over and squeezed his arm. “Honey, listen to me, I’ve grown up in a town full of such fruitcakes. And they might scream and shout how humble they are, but inside? They love to judge. And if they had power over life and death - fifteen thousand deaths would not be considered an outrageous count.”
“Do you know some churches are actually claiming Compton was a prophet?”
Ceci made a rude noise. “I swear, there’s never a shortage of stupid people!”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Jared nudged Ceci. “Do you want to go downstairs? Schmooze with the common folks?”
Ceci placed a hand on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. “And ruin my Jimmy Choos?”
“Yeah, I know. But we gods do have to make such sacrifices when necessary.”
Ceci cracked a wide smile. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs and see what the fun people are doing.”
“It’ll give us a chance to scope out what’s selling and what’s not,” Jared added.
Ceci frowned. “Do we need to do that? It’s only happy hour.”
“It’s always good to know what the clients like and don’t like. And Jason would love us if we came to him with a list.”
Ceci rolled her eyes. “Him and his lists. But you’re right: he’ll love us if we do make one.”
With that the two wound their way down the stairs. And though they hadn’t planned it, their entrance to the main dining room was dramatic enough to catch most of the diners’ attention. So, it was easy for them to move about, asking questions and fielding ones. To Jared’s quiet gratitude, Ceci never left his side, radiating happiness while resting her hand on his forearm like an old fashioned belle.
And that went a long way into people being relaxed enough around Jared, even when he was within their comfort zone.
They didn’t have any chance to go upstairs when the dinner crowd began filtering in.
This became routine, and as the days passed into weeks Jared became more and more comfortable being up in front with the public. His ease was made greater by the fact that the restaurant was a solid success. The reviews were uniformly stellar, and though Jared’s fame was the initial draw, it was Jason’s talents that kept the diners coming back for more.
This gave Jared hope that Jensen, wherever he was, would read about Staton and give him an excuse to make contact.
His prayer was answered Christmas week. He was flipping through a stack of mail at the restaurant when he saw the familiar scrawl. For a moment his heart paced so quickly he actually felt pain. With stiff, uncooperative fingers, Jared opened the envelope.
There was a two-page letter and a bland business card.
Jared,
I just read about Staton. I’m proud of you, and before you ask: it’s going to be a success. I know it. So, take it easy.
Dr. Weston told me you wanted to talk to me, so it wasn’t the military that kept me from answering your e-mails. You probably know this, but I was released a month before you. As far as I could figure, either my immune system was very impressive or they found something that told them I wasn’t a threat to the general population.
They were wrong.
I came back to Dallas, vegged for a while, and then I tried to eat a bullet. I would’ve succeeded if Dad hadn’t come home early. For an old guy he’s pretty fucking strong. After taking the gun out of my hand, he forced me to have a talk with him.
I couldn’t even really begin to outline why I wanted to kill myself but I want you to know it had nothing to do with you.
It was because I couldn’t process what happened in Seattle. You see, I shut down completely when things went crazy then. It was my way of dealing with it, but after we were rescued, I couldn’t find my way out of the dark. And then I didn’t want to. This happened while I was still quarantined, and by the time I was released I was so tired of everything I set my mind to ending it.
Suicide is not a comforting thought but it is relaxing, as odd as that sounds. Once you make up your mind to kill yourself things get lighter. Not easier mind you, but you suddenly find yourself able to manage things because you just don’t give a fuck.
So, I wasn’t crying out for help when I put the barrel in my mouth: I was ready to go. But my Dad snapped me out of my fugue and forced me to see someone.
You think Texas is hot? Try Arizona desert during summertime.
I think I sweated out my suicidal tendencies more than anything. Things didn’t get easier for a long time after that. I didn’t expect it to either. You see just waking up from a nightmare isn’t enough: you have to crawl out of your bed, get dressed, and then step outside. I think that last part was the hardest because I didn’t know what was on the other side of the door and it terrified me.
But I did. I had to.
‘What choice do I have?’ was what got me through the hell that was Santos. So, I decided to use that mantra again.
It didn’t work, which sucked. But then I started volunteering at a ranch near the center. I like horses, always did. Not that I had a career goal of being a cowboy but working with them always made me feel good. And somewhere along the line things got better. Maybe it was the rhythm of the days or just the fact that I didn’t have to talk to people so much, but whatever the reason, I started to look forward to waking up and getting out of the house.
I got job offers from all over Hollywood but like you, I had no desire to go back. It was amazing while it lasted, but there were downsides to that life and you know all about that so I won’t get into it.
I was released on my own recognizance four months after I went in, but I stayed around the ranch. Melissa Hopkins, the owner, was a godsend. She let me putz around and work with her horses. She also fed me and gave me a roof over my head for which I’ll forever be grateful. It was also Melissa who answered the question that nearly drove me to my grave.
"How many monstrous things do you have to do before you become a monster?" I kept asking myself because I killed people. Yes, they were bugshit crazy but they were still human beings.
She told me bluntly, "One. The trick is not to remain a monster by doing it again."
I don't know why but what she said made sense. I got better and better, and even though it was slow going I finally stopped thinking about killing myself and started thinking about the future.
I bought the ranch and Melissa went to the one she owns in Idaho. She’s got three believe it or not. I’d like to think I got the cream of the crop!
So, now I got a ranch in Arizona and about a billion more freckles. I also lost even more weight and gained about three inches of calluses on my hands and feet.
Life is slow here but that’s okay. It’s not beautiful in the sense we’re used to but my God, it is beautiful. And on most days I can find peace, peace with what happened back then, but most importantly with what I did.
And that’s good, right?
Yours,
Jensen
PS: I watched that television interview you gave. You dumb fuck, you were never a burden. And it was your brain that got us through in one piece, remember?
Jared looked down at the business card and read the address and the number. The name of the ranch made him smile.
Winchester? What the hell? Couldn’t he come up with something more original?
He knew other people would read the letter as a kiss-off, but Jared knew better. Without saying much Jensen had shown everything that had happened after they separated. And for a private person to do so was a benediction because it meant Jensen trusted Jared with his most intimate emotions.
Also, there was the open invitation. This meant Jensen was giving him the choice: telling Jared he would wait.
Means we’ve got time and neither of us are going anywhere. Not after everything that had happened between us. Against us. For us.
Jared thumbed his cell, tempted to call. In the end, he desisted.
We have to find our peace separately. Then we can find it together.
Jared programmed Jensen’s phone number into his cell before tucking the business card into his wallet.
“Hey there, handsome,” Ceci said as she walked up to him. She saw the radiant smile on his face and asked, “Got good news?”
“Yeah, the best,” Jared answered. He didn’t say anything else and Ceci knew well enough not to pry.
The End
Conclusion * Author's Notes & Soundtrack