Real Person Fic - CW: On Rough Seas
Title: On Rough Seas
Fandom: Real Person Fic: CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R for sexual content, gore, and general creepiness
Word Count: 5,370
Author’s Note: This was written for to_pm_with_love as a gift for petite_madame. It was 100% inspired by her beautiful Merman Jared arts, which you can find here and here. This story has not been beta’d.
Summary: AU: Jensen is a sailor who falls in love with a siren.
“Beyond the terror of being eaten alive is the ineffability of being drunk alive.” - Victor Hugo, The Toilers of the Sea
By the light of not enough moon, too many clouds crowding in front of it, and lanterns swinging too wildly in their hands to be much use, Jensen drops the anchor. It's a choppy night, ship lurching in every direction, and their best bet is to dig in, nothing for it now but to hope everything is still in one piece by the morning.
It's not the worst storm Jensen's sailed through, not by a longshot, but it never hurts to be safe. No reason to rouse the captain, but he knows Jeff will agree with his decision when he wakes in the morning. They're making good time on this trip, and one night staying in place shouldn't cause them to arrive more than a few hours late. Better a late delivery than a sunken one.
"Will you return to your cabin, sir?" one of his men asks, and Jensen waves him off.
Ideally, after so many years of constant sailing, Jensen wouldn't get seasick anymore. He's certainly improved, but right now there's no hope of him returning to sleep right away, not with this much turbulence and his stomach already unsettled.
"I'll take the watch for now," Jensen says. "The fresh air will do me some good."
Whoever it was-Jensen isn't familiar enough with this crew yet to be sure just from their voice-they don't stick around for him to change his mind. The man had sounded exhausted.
Jensen goes over to starboard and hangs his lantern up, bracing his arms on the railing as he leans over it just a bit. It's been an odd journey so far. Every time he looks over this side of the ship, he thinks he sees something swimming alongside, a fish he can't identify. Huge, but not a grampus or a whale, and thankfully not a shark. Big enough, though.
All he sees of it is a long tail, a deep green color until it moves as the creature swims, and then it's something else entirely. An iridescent tableau of colors as the sun dances over the scales, until it reaches gold, and then it shifts back to green. Jensen hasn't been able to determine just how big it is, the tail doesn't seem to lead to anything, and it never surfaces enough for Jensen to see its head.
It's fast, too. Whatever the beast is, it's been keeping up with them for days. Jensen doesn't know of a creature that wants to stay near a human vessel, and now his curiosity gets the best of him. With the anchor dropped, the mystery fish has probably long since passed them by, but he'll be sad to lose the game he's made out of searching for the kaleidoscope of color that interrupts the monotonous blue of the ocean.
When he leans over the side and gazes down, there's a pair of eyes staring right back up at him. Human eyes, by the look of it.
Fear seizes up in Jensen as he catches sight of the body, arms and torso caught in ropes dangling off the ship. He hadn't heard anyone go overboard; the storm hadn't seemed nearly wild enough for that. And yet, here this boy is.
He doesn't recognize the face that is looking up at him, and Jensen thinks, not without a dose of shame, that he would remember this face, no matter how unfamiliar the crew is to him. Jensen became a sailor for one reason and one alone: nobody in this profession asks very many questions. They're all misfits, fleeing their natural habitat, the safety of land beneath their feet, to escape something. Most of them are criminals, driven from their homes, a ship the only place they can find work, food, and a place to lay their heads short of prison.
For Jensen, it's this. It's the fact that he looks over the edge of the ship and sees a boy there tangled up, probably dead. His first thought isn't to rush to try to rescue the boy-that comes second. The first thought is pure desire, even though the boy he's looking at is the very picture of masculine attractiveness, nothing feminine about him for Jensen to pretend he's drawn to. His veins feel like fire, a heat this entire ocean couldn't quench, as he roves over the boy's features, taking note of the catlike eyes and wide mouth, broad shoulders, strong torso that leads down into…
His breath catches in his throat.
"Don't call for the others," the boy says.
Jensen nods, too stunned to disobey. He found his mystery fish.
"What-what are you?" Jensen asks stupidly, though he knows. He's heard the stories, just like everyone has. Never believed them, but it’s clear what this means. He's been too long on the ocean, no one at port he could risk revealing his perverse desires to. It's been so long since he had anyone, and now he's finally gone mad. He's not the first of his profession to dream up this particular illusion, even if most of them see women with fish tails.
"I'm trapped," says the siren, holding out his wrists so Jensen can see the thick ropes twisted around them. "I was swimming too close to the ship, and I got caught up during the storm."
"You've been following us," Jensen says. "I've been watching you."
The boy pulls his hands back toward his chest and smiles up at Jensen. "Oh, yes. I've been following you."
"We don't have gold, or anything valuable," Jensen tells the monster, because he knows what this is about, if it's really happening at all. Aren't these creatures famous for smashing ships, causing men like Jensen to make stupid calls during storms and landing their entire crew at the bottom of the ocean? That's the game this boy is playing with him. He'll fall for it, too. He's never seen anyone like this, he's never felt so drawn to anything. "Our shipment is of no use to you."
"I didn't say I was following the ship." The boy's teeth seem to sharpen in the moonlight. "Not all treasures are made of gold, lovely one."
Jensen feels a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The voice is melodious, seems to promise everything his lonely heart has ever ached for. He knows this is just a game for the siren, that he's just another idiot falling for the same old song, but he desperately wants to dive in anyway.
Again, those slim wrists reach out to him. "I'm still caught," the creature teases. "You caught me."
"You think I'm a fool," Jensen tells it. "If I get near enough to untie you, you'll drag me under."
"Now, that's not a very nice assumption to make," the boy says. He bats his eyes, coquettish expression on his face. Jensen has seen the working women behave the exact same way toward sailors on a thousand piers, always felt sick at the shamelessness of it. Now, he understands why other men always cave so easily.
"It's true though, isn't it?"
"Please," the boy replies, seeming to drop his act and letting some urgency show. "I'll die if you start sailing again with me caught up like this."
"And how many men like me have you let die?" Jensen responds. "To take their ship and smash it to matchwood."
"Enough." The siren admits with a light, airy laugh. "But they weren't half as much fun as you." He holds his arms out again. "Set me free, Jensen. I won't hurt you."
"How do you know my na-?"
"Does knowing your name give me some power over you? We can be even, then. I go by Jared," the creature tells him, and Jensen can't decide if it's absurd for a monster to have a name at all, or if it should have been obvious. "See, we’re friends now." The sweet, seductive voice gets just a little more demanding. "Now let me loose."
Jensen looks over his shoulder to see if any of the other men are out. Maybe one of them can come look, tell him if they see this or if he's truly lost his mind.
"Don't look at them," Jared snaps, and Jensen turns his attention back to the ocean. "Just look at me."
Jensen swallows hard and there's no point left in fighting. If one of the men catches him talking to himself, he's as good as dead anyway. Better to give in, let this monster have its way. It's a sweet kind of death, isn't it, when everything in him is screaming to do whatever it takes if it means touching that sun-kissed skin.
He lowers himself, and Jared hops up, his long body held above the water, reaching out. Jensen closes his eyes, anticipating a pull as soon as he makes contact. But he touches the rope, gently untangles the knots around Jared's arms, and Jared shifts closer, revealing that his body is wrapped up, too, even his tail.
Jensen works as quickly as he can, expecting the attack to come any moment. His blood is pumping in his veins, but nothing happens. Jared's eyes stay on his. They’re close enough now for Jensen to see them, but he can't name the color. Something as unknowable, as enticing and terrifying, as the depths of the sea.
"There," Jared says as the last knot comes undone. "That wasn't so hard. What does my hero want in return?"
Jensen's face tilts toward the boy without his even thinking about it, and Jared draws in closer. A kiss. Jensen wants nothing more than he wants to die on this boy's lips.
"Jensen, are you up here?"
With a jolt, Jensen's head whips in Misha's direction. He'd forgotten there was anyone else on the ship, anyone but him and Jared in the entire world. "I-yes, I'm here."
He sees the man approaching, and he turns back toward Jared to collect his kiss, but when he does, all he sees are the ropes dangling from his fingers.
"Your watch is over," Misha says, coming to stand at his side. He stops next to Jensen and raises an eyebrow. Jensen must have an odd expression on his face, if it's registering the particular blend of disappointment and confusion he's feeling. "Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"There was a boy," Jensen answers stupidly, still clinging to the ropes as if they'll tie him to his sanity. "In the water."
"Man overboard?" Misha asks urgently. "Why didn't you sound the alarm?"
"No, not someone from this ship," he says, his arms dropping to his side.
"Well, what'd he look like? Was he dead?"
Jensen blinks a few times, thrown by the question. Or rather by his own inability to answer it. He-he'd been sure there was a boy there, but he can't conjure up a picture, can't remember a single detail except…
"He was beautiful," Jensen whispers.
Misha's lips turn down in a frown. Jensen likes Misha; the man is as close to a friend as Jensen has. Unlike most of the crew on the ship, Misha has him figured out. He's probably the only person aboard who knows everyone's sins, he can read people with ease, but he's discreet, and that's what matters.
Jensen knows it's for his own safety that Misha claps a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful who you say that to," Misha tells him.
He nods, suddenly unsure what he said or why he feels so strange. Something-something just happened, he thinks, he feels like it. But he can't remember anything, can hardly remember coming up from his cabin to drop the anchor. Was he sleep walking? There's certainly a mist over his mind, just as there is over the suddenly too-calm water.
"I think I've been dreaming," he says. There's rope coiled around his fist, and Jensen isn't sure why he's gripping it so tight. He drops it onto the deck. "Perhaps it's time I went to sleep."
_______________________________________________________________
They reach their destination in good time, despite the delay caused by the storm. It's calm waters and a light breeze guiding them in just the right direction when Jensen wakes the next morning.
Captain Morgan is pleased with the time they make and offers the crew a few nights at port in reward. Their next engagement isn't far from here, and thanks to the good weather, they won't be pressed for time.
Jensen goes along to the tavern with the other men, sits at the end of the table, drinking his pint of ale and watching as his friends dance with the serving women, everyone laughing and singing. Everyone except for Jensen.
He's not usually this sullen, but there's something hanging over him, has been for days. He had hoped reaching land would help him, that feet firm on the ground would make it easier to quiet the roiling of his mind, but he's more distracted than ever.
There's a call in him so strong it's almost a physical sensation, a tug back toward the ocean. He feels like he's choking on all this oxygen and sinking into this too-solid ground.
He excuses himself from the revelries, claims an upset stomach and fatigue, and heads back to the inn where he's purchased a room for the night. He'd hoped to have company, some man as eager to keep a secret as he is, just to take the edge off. But Jensen can't make himself want anyone he sees, despite an uncharacteristically strong need to be close to someone. Trying to want any of the men he sees feels oddly like unfaithfulness, though who it is Jensen is being loyal to, he doesn't know.
He finds himself standing in the lobby of the inn, staring at a picture on the wall. Like everything else for the last few days, Jensen doesn't understand his own motivation, but the painting has him transfixed, and he can't tear his eyes away long enough to go to his room.
It's a pastel drawing of a fish, not unlike the hundreds of similarly nautical drawings Jensen has seen on the walls of every beach town he's resided in since he took up sailing. The fish in the picture has a tail of bright green and gold, and it feels important to Jensen somehow. It feels like a memory, but Jensen doesn't know of what.
He reaches out, drags a finger across the page, completely uncaring of the fact that he's smudging the pastel, making the green and the gold mix and ruining the picture. He imagines the colors sparkling together in the sun, this tail cutting through bright blue waters and it knocks him back a few steps, the strength of that image.
Jensen has seen it. He knows he has. And there's a drive to touch the resplendent scales in his mind's eye that borders on manic.
The call intensifies, and Jensen gives in. He nearly falls over himself in his haste to get out of the inn and hurry to the ocean's shore.
When he reaches the beach, there's someone else in the water, a little ways out. Jensen can hardly see their head, but he walks toward them anyway, right into the water, fully dressed, not even thinking to remove his shoes.
Whoever it is, they swim nearer once they notice Jensen, so that he only gets as deep as his hips before the man is floating in front of him.
And suddenly, he remembers. The long, magnificent tail. That brown hair that had swayed under the surface as he'd stared up at Jensen through his slanted eyes. The thrum of want that has hardly let up since the first time he met Jared.
"You left," he says before he even gets a chance to think about it. It sounds accusatory in his own ears, and Jensen tries to soften it. "I missed you."
Jared is even more beautiful up close. He ducks his head and his smile comes slowly, gradually, like it's supposed to take enough time to work a spell on Jensen. If only he knew how enchanted Jensen already was.
"I had to," Jared tells him. "We were interrupted."
"I forgot you," Jensen adds. "How could I forget?"
Jared throws his head back on a laugh, a sound that booms like a cannon, and yet there's almost a sadness to it. "I tend to have that effect on people."
"But I remembered, too," he insists.
Jared reaches out, the backs of his fingers skimming over Jensen's cheek. "I left you alone. I tried to let you get away."
"But you're here now." Jensen loops an arm around Jared's narrow waist, a thrill shooting through him when he traces the deep slits of the gills on Jared’s sides and feels where skin gives way to smooth scales. He strokes his hand down and then up, memorizing the way the scales catch when tugged in the opposite direction.
"That doesn't feel as good as you might think," Jared says, his tone teasing, but Jensen lets go anyway.
He shouldn't be touching Jared like that. Shouldn't be touching any man, not out in the open like this, where anyone could see. "I'm sorry."
Jared makes a 'tsk'ing sound and shakes his head as he draws closer, one arm draping over Jensen's shoulders. "Didn't say you couldn't touch."
Jared's other hand is moving down, his fingers slipping under the fabric of Jensen's soaked shirt, and Jensen curses the clothing he forgot to take off, less for the discomfort and more for the way it separates him from Jared's fingers.
"You still owe me," Jensen reminds him. "For saving you."
"Yes," Jared agrees, his voice drawing out into a hiss. "What does my brave Jensen want in exchange?"
"You know," he says, angling his head the way he had before they'd been interrupted. "Please kiss me."
Jared's mouth turns down, his lips thinning, and the dimples Jensen had been so enjoying are tucked away. "No, no. Not that."
"But why not?" Jensen asks. "You were going to. The other night. I know you were."
"I wasn't thinking straight," Jared says. He brushes his fingers through Jensen's short hair and smiles softly. "I would never do that to you. I like you."
"Please," Jensen begs.
Jared ducks his head and presses his lips to Jensen's neck, which isn't quite what Jensen had in mind, but his eyes drop shut anyway, the soft kiss on his flesh feels like an eruption is going off in the spot where Jared is touching.
Jared lifts his head and looks up at Jensen, must see something he likes there, because he does it again, mouth on the other side of Jensen's neck. He keeps going, unbuttoning Jensen's shirt and kissing his way down Jensen's chest, until he's disappeared under the line of the water.
Then he opens Jensen's trousers and pulls his dick out, lips wrapping around what is already hard and desperate for him.
Jensen moans out Jared's name even though Jared probably can't hear him, submerged as he is.
For a moment, he has the panicked thought that Jared will drown down there if he tries to do this, and then he remembers, laughing at himself. Jared can't drown, can he?
He lets one hand rest on the back of Jared's neck as Jared works at him, his mouth unbelievably skilled, and Jensen wants him so much that it doesn't last more than a few minutes before he loses himself, pouring his seed into Jared along with the salt water.
"Jensen, is that you?"
He looks up toward the shore, again having forgotten where he is and that there were other people. He can still feel Jared, whose mouth is slowly dragging up and off of Jensen's dick, but he doesn't come up, doesn't let anyone see what Jensen has gotten himself into. Jared holds his eyes under the water as he tucks Jensen away and ties his trousers, and Jensen swallows hard.
"Yes, it's me."
"Well, what are you doing out there?"
Under the water, Jared places a finger over his lips. Jensen coughs and looks up to meet the Captain's eyes. "Just felt like taking a swim."
"At this hour?" Jeff laughs. "You're an odd one, Ackles."
"That's why you like me, sir," Jensen replies, trying to force his usual banter.
"Why did you go in dressed?"
Jensen looks down at himself, at the water up to his chest. He doesn't know why. It had seemed important at the time. He does a circle in the water, trying to find…something. There had been something here.
"I'm not entirely sure, sir," he admits as he treads the water back to the beach. He feels loose and sated, though, after days and days of being wound tight, and he lets out a light laugh. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Well, come on back to have some supper. We'll have to leave earlier than expected. There's another storm coming, and I want to try to beat it to the next port."
Jensen nods and follows and when he glances back toward the ocean, it's vast and empty, and Jensen feels a pang of sadness in his chest, but he's not sure what he's mourning.
_______________________________________________________________
The storm catches them. Three men are lost. Jensen has the oddest sense of envy for his fallen comrades.
Once they anchor in the next harbor, the other men are all too eager to clamor to land, find places to sleep for a few nights where they can rest assured they won't wake up at the bottom of the ocean. Not Jensen. He stays aboard.
He's waiting for something. He's not sure what. Something important.
The ship has been waiting at port for three days when Jared finally surfaces.
Jensen leans over the edge of the ship to see him, and he smiles, even as he tries to look stern. "You killed those men."
Jared tilts his head. "No 'hello, nice to see you, Jared'?"
"Why did you take them?" Jensen asks, and he just barely manages not to ask his real question. Why not me? Why don't you want me?
"I'm a creature of habit, love," Jared replies with a beguiling smile.
Jensen's fingers tighten around the ship's rail. "You're a monster, is what you are."
To his surprise, Jared's smile slips entirely. "I've tried to be good," he says. "Tried to give you a chance. Tried to whet my appetite on lesser men. You're the one who killed them."
Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything."
"You came back," Jared says, his tail dancing under the water. "Don't you see I've tried to drive you away? All those storms. These deaths. And yet here you are, still afloat."
"You want to get rid of me?" Jensen asks. "But you kill others instead?"
"I want you to be safe," Jared says. "Go up on land, dear. Far from me. Find yourself a pretty woman. Have some pretty children. Don't ever come near the ocean. Don't let your children come here, either. I'll be waiting for you. I'll take the closest thing I can get until I have you."
"I don't want that," Jensen insists. "I want to remember you."
Jared slaps the water in frustration. "There's only one way to remember me. I'm trying not to hurt you, Jensen."
"How?" Jensen asks. "I'll do anything."
"A kiss," Jared whispers.
A laugh bubbles up past Jensen's lips. "Haven't I been asking for a kiss?"
Jared shakes his head. "You wouldn't like my kiss."
"Do you think I'm afraid of dying?" Jensen asks. "I can't bear the way it feels when I don't remember you, Jared. Please. Take me, stop taking others. They don't deserve that death. It's supposed to be mine."
"You're madder than I am," Jared replies. He sighs. "I won't hurt you. I won't."
Before Jensen can argue, Jared has dived back under, and all Jensen sees is a flick of green tail before the memory is receding and Jensen finds himself dangling nearly off the boat, unsure of what it was he was reaching for.
_______________________________________________________________
Who knows how many times they meet, what words they exchange, in the weeks that follow. Jensen lives in a half-state, not alive until his eyes rest on Jared, not aware what he's dying for the rest of the time.
Men keep disappearing. The crew starts to whisper that the ship is haunted or cursed or that there's a leviathan in the water. Jensen laughs at their superstitions, which doesn't exactly make him popular. Half of them believe he's responsible for the curse, and if it wasn't for Captain Morgan's fondness for him, he would probably be stranded on the next remote island they pass.
Then one night when Jensen is on watch, he sees Jared again. He sees Jared, and Jared is not alone.
Jared is resting on a rock by the shore, curled up with only the tip of his tail touching the water. There's a man in front of him. A man as enraptured as Jensen, but where a million arguments suddenly flash into Jensen's memory-Jared refusing to kiss him, no matter how Jensen begs-this man leans in and Jared opens to him easily.
There's a moment, just after their lips touch. Jared transforms. Not the sweet, ethereal boy Jensen has come to know and unknow so many times. No, he gets a glimpse of the monster below. Jared's face changes to a snarl when he kisses the stranger, his teeth sharp, his skin turning a gray green color and his hands becoming claws as they grab the man and pull him into the water.
Jared's victim screams in fear and tries to struggle away, and Jensen feels anger and jealousy rise up in him. The man fights, breaking the surface of the water and crying for help several times before finally he sinks, pulled under. He doesn't understand. He doesn’t appreciate what he's been given.
Jensen saw Jared's true face, and nothing, not even the enticing curl of Jared's hips when he swims or the dimples or the way the sun catches on his smile, could ever have prepared Jensen for how gorgeous Jared is when he's let himself show.
He waits by the rock a small eternity for Jared to come up again, not caring that the dawn is only a few hours off and Jensen is supposed to be watching the ship. They can all go under for all he cares. The only thing that matters to him now is miles below the waves lapping at his feet, his lips and body tangled up in someone that isn't Jensen.
Jared doesn't disappoint. He reappears before long, the corpse of the man dragged behind him like an afterthought.
He's crying. Jared is crying, and Jensen hops off the rock, into the water, swims to Jared's side and tries to brush the tears from his cheeks.
Jared's skin is still green, his teeth and claws still sharp. His eyes are the same brilliant hazel as they always are, but the pupils are blood red instead of black.
"Why are you here?" he demands. He pulls his victim closer so that the body is floating between Jared and Jensen and shoves it toward Jensen. "I brought you a gift, Jensen. Do you see now what happens to the people I kiss?"
Jensen doesn't waste his time on the dead. That man took a kiss that should have been Jensen's. Drowning was a kinder death than Jensen would have chosen. "Why him? Why not me?"
Jared lets out a sob. "I tried not to," he says. "It was a test. I tried to fight it when I kissed him. I tried to let him live." He looks toward the corpse and lets 'look how that turned out' go unspoken. "I didn't even want him. I only want you. I only want you and yet I couldn't fight it for him. It'll be so much stronger if I kiss you, Jensen. I can't do that. I can't. I-I want to. But then you'll be gone, so soon. Gone."
Jensen lifts Jared's chin with a finger and the edges of his lips curl upward. "Don't you see? That's what I want. I want to be yours."
Jared shakes his head, but Jensen draws closer. "Please kiss me," he begs. "Jared, kiss me."
Something snaps in his siren then. Strong arms wrap around Jensen's neck and Jared's mouth meets his with a violent force. The kiss is everything Jensen could have wished for in a life and then more, the sweep of Jared's tongue tasting of salt and blood and magic.
He hardly registers when they go under. He doesn't fight, not like the unworthy prey Jared chose before him. He won't waste these moments fighting, they don't have very long. Jensen can feel his lungs filling with water, the urge to return to the surface for air. He's already drowning and his eyes are burning from the salt in them, but he won't close them, won't look away from his Jared.
It's not hard to read the horror in Jared's eyes. His monster is trying very hard to let go, to make himself give Jensen up. Jensen will never forgive him if he succeeds.
Then, nothing. His lungs stop screaming for air. The pain all subsides. He can see Jared, but the kiss begins to change. Jensen can't move. He can't even kiss Jared back. He feels his heart freezing, his legs. His arms, wrapped tight around Jared, are no longer his to move.
Jensen goes under.
_______________________________________________________________
When he wakes, Jensen is still sunken. He's not dead, though. He's somewhere that looks like a cave, but the cave is littered with signs of life-and of death. There are chests of gold and gems scattered across the sandy floor, a large bed, and Jensen can see a pile of corpses.
But he can't see Jared. He doesn't wonder how he can be alive or worry that maybe he isn't. He just feels relief. He can't see Jared, but he remembers him. He knows what he's looking for.
"Are you awake, my treasure?"
Jensen's relief is overwhelming. He tries to turn to face Jared, but he can't. He's still frozen, and as he looks down as much as he can without moving, he realizes he's changed. His body is bright white, a shimmer where a ray of sun has managed to penetrate through the water and into the cave that tells him his body is a beautiful, smooth surface.
"I hope you aren't upset," Jared says, finally swimming into vision. "It was the only way I could keep you. My Jensen. You were going to drown."
Jensen can't smile. Can't reassure him. All he can do is look and look his fill. A wonderful way to spend eternity.
"Don't be upset," Jared continues, approaching Jensen. He drapes a gold necklace around Jensen's pearl neck, jewels hanging off of it the like of which Jensen has never seen in his life. He kisses Jensen, and that's the most valuable gift in this cave full of prizes. "I'll give you anything you could ever want."
Jared turns toward one of the bodies, picks up a skull. There's a crown on its head, and Jared snatches that off, tossing the head over his shoulder. He places the crown on Jensen instead. "Anything, anything. I'll sink a thousand ships for you. We can be together forever."
Jared curls up in his arms, which are still posed as they were when last Jensen could move. They're in just the right position to hold Jared close to him. Jensen can't feel the warmth of his skin, but it's enough to imagine he can.
"Forever," Jared promises again, kissing him. "You'll like it. Don't be upset with me. I couldn't just let you die."
Jensen can't reassure him, can't make that guilty edge leave Jared's perfect hazel and crimson eyes.
"Forever," Jared promises.
And there they live, ever after.
Fandom: Real Person Fic: CW
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R for sexual content, gore, and general creepiness
Word Count: 5,370
Author’s Note: This was written for to_pm_with_love as a gift for petite_madame. It was 100% inspired by her beautiful Merman Jared arts, which you can find here and here. This story has not been beta’d.
Summary: AU: Jensen is a sailor who falls in love with a siren.
“Beyond the terror of being eaten alive is the ineffability of being drunk alive.” - Victor Hugo, The Toilers of the Sea
By the light of not enough moon, too many clouds crowding in front of it, and lanterns swinging too wildly in their hands to be much use, Jensen drops the anchor. It's a choppy night, ship lurching in every direction, and their best bet is to dig in, nothing for it now but to hope everything is still in one piece by the morning.
It's not the worst storm Jensen's sailed through, not by a longshot, but it never hurts to be safe. No reason to rouse the captain, but he knows Jeff will agree with his decision when he wakes in the morning. They're making good time on this trip, and one night staying in place shouldn't cause them to arrive more than a few hours late. Better a late delivery than a sunken one.
"Will you return to your cabin, sir?" one of his men asks, and Jensen waves him off.
Ideally, after so many years of constant sailing, Jensen wouldn't get seasick anymore. He's certainly improved, but right now there's no hope of him returning to sleep right away, not with this much turbulence and his stomach already unsettled.
"I'll take the watch for now," Jensen says. "The fresh air will do me some good."
Whoever it was-Jensen isn't familiar enough with this crew yet to be sure just from their voice-they don't stick around for him to change his mind. The man had sounded exhausted.
Jensen goes over to starboard and hangs his lantern up, bracing his arms on the railing as he leans over it just a bit. It's been an odd journey so far. Every time he looks over this side of the ship, he thinks he sees something swimming alongside, a fish he can't identify. Huge, but not a grampus or a whale, and thankfully not a shark. Big enough, though.
All he sees of it is a long tail, a deep green color until it moves as the creature swims, and then it's something else entirely. An iridescent tableau of colors as the sun dances over the scales, until it reaches gold, and then it shifts back to green. Jensen hasn't been able to determine just how big it is, the tail doesn't seem to lead to anything, and it never surfaces enough for Jensen to see its head.
It's fast, too. Whatever the beast is, it's been keeping up with them for days. Jensen doesn't know of a creature that wants to stay near a human vessel, and now his curiosity gets the best of him. With the anchor dropped, the mystery fish has probably long since passed them by, but he'll be sad to lose the game he's made out of searching for the kaleidoscope of color that interrupts the monotonous blue of the ocean.
When he leans over the side and gazes down, there's a pair of eyes staring right back up at him. Human eyes, by the look of it.
Fear seizes up in Jensen as he catches sight of the body, arms and torso caught in ropes dangling off the ship. He hadn't heard anyone go overboard; the storm hadn't seemed nearly wild enough for that. And yet, here this boy is.
He doesn't recognize the face that is looking up at him, and Jensen thinks, not without a dose of shame, that he would remember this face, no matter how unfamiliar the crew is to him. Jensen became a sailor for one reason and one alone: nobody in this profession asks very many questions. They're all misfits, fleeing their natural habitat, the safety of land beneath their feet, to escape something. Most of them are criminals, driven from their homes, a ship the only place they can find work, food, and a place to lay their heads short of prison.
For Jensen, it's this. It's the fact that he looks over the edge of the ship and sees a boy there tangled up, probably dead. His first thought isn't to rush to try to rescue the boy-that comes second. The first thought is pure desire, even though the boy he's looking at is the very picture of masculine attractiveness, nothing feminine about him for Jensen to pretend he's drawn to. His veins feel like fire, a heat this entire ocean couldn't quench, as he roves over the boy's features, taking note of the catlike eyes and wide mouth, broad shoulders, strong torso that leads down into…
His breath catches in his throat.
"Don't call for the others," the boy says.
Jensen nods, too stunned to disobey. He found his mystery fish.
"What-what are you?" Jensen asks stupidly, though he knows. He's heard the stories, just like everyone has. Never believed them, but it’s clear what this means. He's been too long on the ocean, no one at port he could risk revealing his perverse desires to. It's been so long since he had anyone, and now he's finally gone mad. He's not the first of his profession to dream up this particular illusion, even if most of them see women with fish tails.
"I'm trapped," says the siren, holding out his wrists so Jensen can see the thick ropes twisted around them. "I was swimming too close to the ship, and I got caught up during the storm."
"You've been following us," Jensen says. "I've been watching you."
The boy pulls his hands back toward his chest and smiles up at Jensen. "Oh, yes. I've been following you."
"We don't have gold, or anything valuable," Jensen tells the monster, because he knows what this is about, if it's really happening at all. Aren't these creatures famous for smashing ships, causing men like Jensen to make stupid calls during storms and landing their entire crew at the bottom of the ocean? That's the game this boy is playing with him. He'll fall for it, too. He's never seen anyone like this, he's never felt so drawn to anything. "Our shipment is of no use to you."
"I didn't say I was following the ship." The boy's teeth seem to sharpen in the moonlight. "Not all treasures are made of gold, lovely one."
Jensen feels a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The voice is melodious, seems to promise everything his lonely heart has ever ached for. He knows this is just a game for the siren, that he's just another idiot falling for the same old song, but he desperately wants to dive in anyway.
Again, those slim wrists reach out to him. "I'm still caught," the creature teases. "You caught me."
"You think I'm a fool," Jensen tells it. "If I get near enough to untie you, you'll drag me under."
"Now, that's not a very nice assumption to make," the boy says. He bats his eyes, coquettish expression on his face. Jensen has seen the working women behave the exact same way toward sailors on a thousand piers, always felt sick at the shamelessness of it. Now, he understands why other men always cave so easily.
"It's true though, isn't it?"
"Please," the boy replies, seeming to drop his act and letting some urgency show. "I'll die if you start sailing again with me caught up like this."
"And how many men like me have you let die?" Jensen responds. "To take their ship and smash it to matchwood."
"Enough." The siren admits with a light, airy laugh. "But they weren't half as much fun as you." He holds his arms out again. "Set me free, Jensen. I won't hurt you."
"How do you know my na-?"
"Does knowing your name give me some power over you? We can be even, then. I go by Jared," the creature tells him, and Jensen can't decide if it's absurd for a monster to have a name at all, or if it should have been obvious. "See, we’re friends now." The sweet, seductive voice gets just a little more demanding. "Now let me loose."
Jensen looks over his shoulder to see if any of the other men are out. Maybe one of them can come look, tell him if they see this or if he's truly lost his mind.
"Don't look at them," Jared snaps, and Jensen turns his attention back to the ocean. "Just look at me."
Jensen swallows hard and there's no point left in fighting. If one of the men catches him talking to himself, he's as good as dead anyway. Better to give in, let this monster have its way. It's a sweet kind of death, isn't it, when everything in him is screaming to do whatever it takes if it means touching that sun-kissed skin.
He lowers himself, and Jared hops up, his long body held above the water, reaching out. Jensen closes his eyes, anticipating a pull as soon as he makes contact. But he touches the rope, gently untangles the knots around Jared's arms, and Jared shifts closer, revealing that his body is wrapped up, too, even his tail.
Jensen works as quickly as he can, expecting the attack to come any moment. His blood is pumping in his veins, but nothing happens. Jared's eyes stay on his. They’re close enough now for Jensen to see them, but he can't name the color. Something as unknowable, as enticing and terrifying, as the depths of the sea.
"There," Jared says as the last knot comes undone. "That wasn't so hard. What does my hero want in return?"
Jensen's face tilts toward the boy without his even thinking about it, and Jared draws in closer. A kiss. Jensen wants nothing more than he wants to die on this boy's lips.
"Jensen, are you up here?"
With a jolt, Jensen's head whips in Misha's direction. He'd forgotten there was anyone else on the ship, anyone but him and Jared in the entire world. "I-yes, I'm here."
He sees the man approaching, and he turns back toward Jared to collect his kiss, but when he does, all he sees are the ropes dangling from his fingers.
"Your watch is over," Misha says, coming to stand at his side. He stops next to Jensen and raises an eyebrow. Jensen must have an odd expression on his face, if it's registering the particular blend of disappointment and confusion he's feeling. "Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"There was a boy," Jensen answers stupidly, still clinging to the ropes as if they'll tie him to his sanity. "In the water."
"Man overboard?" Misha asks urgently. "Why didn't you sound the alarm?"
"No, not someone from this ship," he says, his arms dropping to his side.
"Well, what'd he look like? Was he dead?"
Jensen blinks a few times, thrown by the question. Or rather by his own inability to answer it. He-he'd been sure there was a boy there, but he can't conjure up a picture, can't remember a single detail except…
"He was beautiful," Jensen whispers.
Misha's lips turn down in a frown. Jensen likes Misha; the man is as close to a friend as Jensen has. Unlike most of the crew on the ship, Misha has him figured out. He's probably the only person aboard who knows everyone's sins, he can read people with ease, but he's discreet, and that's what matters.
Jensen knows it's for his own safety that Misha claps a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful who you say that to," Misha tells him.
He nods, suddenly unsure what he said or why he feels so strange. Something-something just happened, he thinks, he feels like it. But he can't remember anything, can hardly remember coming up from his cabin to drop the anchor. Was he sleep walking? There's certainly a mist over his mind, just as there is over the suddenly too-calm water.
"I think I've been dreaming," he says. There's rope coiled around his fist, and Jensen isn't sure why he's gripping it so tight. He drops it onto the deck. "Perhaps it's time I went to sleep."
_______________________________________________________________
They reach their destination in good time, despite the delay caused by the storm. It's calm waters and a light breeze guiding them in just the right direction when Jensen wakes the next morning.
Captain Morgan is pleased with the time they make and offers the crew a few nights at port in reward. Their next engagement isn't far from here, and thanks to the good weather, they won't be pressed for time.
Jensen goes along to the tavern with the other men, sits at the end of the table, drinking his pint of ale and watching as his friends dance with the serving women, everyone laughing and singing. Everyone except for Jensen.
He's not usually this sullen, but there's something hanging over him, has been for days. He had hoped reaching land would help him, that feet firm on the ground would make it easier to quiet the roiling of his mind, but he's more distracted than ever.
There's a call in him so strong it's almost a physical sensation, a tug back toward the ocean. He feels like he's choking on all this oxygen and sinking into this too-solid ground.
He excuses himself from the revelries, claims an upset stomach and fatigue, and heads back to the inn where he's purchased a room for the night. He'd hoped to have company, some man as eager to keep a secret as he is, just to take the edge off. But Jensen can't make himself want anyone he sees, despite an uncharacteristically strong need to be close to someone. Trying to want any of the men he sees feels oddly like unfaithfulness, though who it is Jensen is being loyal to, he doesn't know.
He finds himself standing in the lobby of the inn, staring at a picture on the wall. Like everything else for the last few days, Jensen doesn't understand his own motivation, but the painting has him transfixed, and he can't tear his eyes away long enough to go to his room.
It's a pastel drawing of a fish, not unlike the hundreds of similarly nautical drawings Jensen has seen on the walls of every beach town he's resided in since he took up sailing. The fish in the picture has a tail of bright green and gold, and it feels important to Jensen somehow. It feels like a memory, but Jensen doesn't know of what.
He reaches out, drags a finger across the page, completely uncaring of the fact that he's smudging the pastel, making the green and the gold mix and ruining the picture. He imagines the colors sparkling together in the sun, this tail cutting through bright blue waters and it knocks him back a few steps, the strength of that image.
Jensen has seen it. He knows he has. And there's a drive to touch the resplendent scales in his mind's eye that borders on manic.
The call intensifies, and Jensen gives in. He nearly falls over himself in his haste to get out of the inn and hurry to the ocean's shore.
When he reaches the beach, there's someone else in the water, a little ways out. Jensen can hardly see their head, but he walks toward them anyway, right into the water, fully dressed, not even thinking to remove his shoes.
Whoever it is, they swim nearer once they notice Jensen, so that he only gets as deep as his hips before the man is floating in front of him.
And suddenly, he remembers. The long, magnificent tail. That brown hair that had swayed under the surface as he'd stared up at Jensen through his slanted eyes. The thrum of want that has hardly let up since the first time he met Jared.
"You left," he says before he even gets a chance to think about it. It sounds accusatory in his own ears, and Jensen tries to soften it. "I missed you."
Jared is even more beautiful up close. He ducks his head and his smile comes slowly, gradually, like it's supposed to take enough time to work a spell on Jensen. If only he knew how enchanted Jensen already was.
"I had to," Jared tells him. "We were interrupted."
"I forgot you," Jensen adds. "How could I forget?"
Jared throws his head back on a laugh, a sound that booms like a cannon, and yet there's almost a sadness to it. "I tend to have that effect on people."
"But I remembered, too," he insists.
Jared reaches out, the backs of his fingers skimming over Jensen's cheek. "I left you alone. I tried to let you get away."
"But you're here now." Jensen loops an arm around Jared's narrow waist, a thrill shooting through him when he traces the deep slits of the gills on Jared’s sides and feels where skin gives way to smooth scales. He strokes his hand down and then up, memorizing the way the scales catch when tugged in the opposite direction.
"That doesn't feel as good as you might think," Jared says, his tone teasing, but Jensen lets go anyway.
He shouldn't be touching Jared like that. Shouldn't be touching any man, not out in the open like this, where anyone could see. "I'm sorry."
Jared makes a 'tsk'ing sound and shakes his head as he draws closer, one arm draping over Jensen's shoulders. "Didn't say you couldn't touch."
Jared's other hand is moving down, his fingers slipping under the fabric of Jensen's soaked shirt, and Jensen curses the clothing he forgot to take off, less for the discomfort and more for the way it separates him from Jared's fingers.
"You still owe me," Jensen reminds him. "For saving you."
"Yes," Jared agrees, his voice drawing out into a hiss. "What does my brave Jensen want in exchange?"
"You know," he says, angling his head the way he had before they'd been interrupted. "Please kiss me."
Jared's mouth turns down, his lips thinning, and the dimples Jensen had been so enjoying are tucked away. "No, no. Not that."
"But why not?" Jensen asks. "You were going to. The other night. I know you were."
"I wasn't thinking straight," Jared says. He brushes his fingers through Jensen's short hair and smiles softly. "I would never do that to you. I like you."
"Please," Jensen begs.
Jared ducks his head and presses his lips to Jensen's neck, which isn't quite what Jensen had in mind, but his eyes drop shut anyway, the soft kiss on his flesh feels like an eruption is going off in the spot where Jared is touching.
Jared lifts his head and looks up at Jensen, must see something he likes there, because he does it again, mouth on the other side of Jensen's neck. He keeps going, unbuttoning Jensen's shirt and kissing his way down Jensen's chest, until he's disappeared under the line of the water.
Then he opens Jensen's trousers and pulls his dick out, lips wrapping around what is already hard and desperate for him.
Jensen moans out Jared's name even though Jared probably can't hear him, submerged as he is.
For a moment, he has the panicked thought that Jared will drown down there if he tries to do this, and then he remembers, laughing at himself. Jared can't drown, can he?
He lets one hand rest on the back of Jared's neck as Jared works at him, his mouth unbelievably skilled, and Jensen wants him so much that it doesn't last more than a few minutes before he loses himself, pouring his seed into Jared along with the salt water.
"Jensen, is that you?"
He looks up toward the shore, again having forgotten where he is and that there were other people. He can still feel Jared, whose mouth is slowly dragging up and off of Jensen's dick, but he doesn't come up, doesn't let anyone see what Jensen has gotten himself into. Jared holds his eyes under the water as he tucks Jensen away and ties his trousers, and Jensen swallows hard.
"Yes, it's me."
"Well, what are you doing out there?"
Under the water, Jared places a finger over his lips. Jensen coughs and looks up to meet the Captain's eyes. "Just felt like taking a swim."
"At this hour?" Jeff laughs. "You're an odd one, Ackles."
"That's why you like me, sir," Jensen replies, trying to force his usual banter.
"Why did you go in dressed?"
Jensen looks down at himself, at the water up to his chest. He doesn't know why. It had seemed important at the time. He does a circle in the water, trying to find…something. There had been something here.
"I'm not entirely sure, sir," he admits as he treads the water back to the beach. He feels loose and sated, though, after days and days of being wound tight, and he lets out a light laugh. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Well, come on back to have some supper. We'll have to leave earlier than expected. There's another storm coming, and I want to try to beat it to the next port."
Jensen nods and follows and when he glances back toward the ocean, it's vast and empty, and Jensen feels a pang of sadness in his chest, but he's not sure what he's mourning.
_______________________________________________________________
The storm catches them. Three men are lost. Jensen has the oddest sense of envy for his fallen comrades.
Once they anchor in the next harbor, the other men are all too eager to clamor to land, find places to sleep for a few nights where they can rest assured they won't wake up at the bottom of the ocean. Not Jensen. He stays aboard.
He's waiting for something. He's not sure what. Something important.
The ship has been waiting at port for three days when Jared finally surfaces.
Jensen leans over the edge of the ship to see him, and he smiles, even as he tries to look stern. "You killed those men."
Jared tilts his head. "No 'hello, nice to see you, Jared'?"
"Why did you take them?" Jensen asks, and he just barely manages not to ask his real question. Why not me? Why don't you want me?
"I'm a creature of habit, love," Jared replies with a beguiling smile.
Jensen's fingers tighten around the ship's rail. "You're a monster, is what you are."
To his surprise, Jared's smile slips entirely. "I've tried to be good," he says. "Tried to give you a chance. Tried to whet my appetite on lesser men. You're the one who killed them."
Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything."
"You came back," Jared says, his tail dancing under the water. "Don't you see I've tried to drive you away? All those storms. These deaths. And yet here you are, still afloat."
"You want to get rid of me?" Jensen asks. "But you kill others instead?"
"I want you to be safe," Jared says. "Go up on land, dear. Far from me. Find yourself a pretty woman. Have some pretty children. Don't ever come near the ocean. Don't let your children come here, either. I'll be waiting for you. I'll take the closest thing I can get until I have you."
"I don't want that," Jensen insists. "I want to remember you."
Jared slaps the water in frustration. "There's only one way to remember me. I'm trying not to hurt you, Jensen."
"How?" Jensen asks. "I'll do anything."
"A kiss," Jared whispers.
A laugh bubbles up past Jensen's lips. "Haven't I been asking for a kiss?"
Jared shakes his head. "You wouldn't like my kiss."
"Do you think I'm afraid of dying?" Jensen asks. "I can't bear the way it feels when I don't remember you, Jared. Please. Take me, stop taking others. They don't deserve that death. It's supposed to be mine."
"You're madder than I am," Jared replies. He sighs. "I won't hurt you. I won't."
Before Jensen can argue, Jared has dived back under, and all Jensen sees is a flick of green tail before the memory is receding and Jensen finds himself dangling nearly off the boat, unsure of what it was he was reaching for.
_______________________________________________________________
Who knows how many times they meet, what words they exchange, in the weeks that follow. Jensen lives in a half-state, not alive until his eyes rest on Jared, not aware what he's dying for the rest of the time.
Men keep disappearing. The crew starts to whisper that the ship is haunted or cursed or that there's a leviathan in the water. Jensen laughs at their superstitions, which doesn't exactly make him popular. Half of them believe he's responsible for the curse, and if it wasn't for Captain Morgan's fondness for him, he would probably be stranded on the next remote island they pass.
Then one night when Jensen is on watch, he sees Jared again. He sees Jared, and Jared is not alone.
Jared is resting on a rock by the shore, curled up with only the tip of his tail touching the water. There's a man in front of him. A man as enraptured as Jensen, but where a million arguments suddenly flash into Jensen's memory-Jared refusing to kiss him, no matter how Jensen begs-this man leans in and Jared opens to him easily.
There's a moment, just after their lips touch. Jared transforms. Not the sweet, ethereal boy Jensen has come to know and unknow so many times. No, he gets a glimpse of the monster below. Jared's face changes to a snarl when he kisses the stranger, his teeth sharp, his skin turning a gray green color and his hands becoming claws as they grab the man and pull him into the water.
Jared's victim screams in fear and tries to struggle away, and Jensen feels anger and jealousy rise up in him. The man fights, breaking the surface of the water and crying for help several times before finally he sinks, pulled under. He doesn't understand. He doesn’t appreciate what he's been given.
Jensen saw Jared's true face, and nothing, not even the enticing curl of Jared's hips when he swims or the dimples or the way the sun catches on his smile, could ever have prepared Jensen for how gorgeous Jared is when he's let himself show.
He waits by the rock a small eternity for Jared to come up again, not caring that the dawn is only a few hours off and Jensen is supposed to be watching the ship. They can all go under for all he cares. The only thing that matters to him now is miles below the waves lapping at his feet, his lips and body tangled up in someone that isn't Jensen.
Jared doesn't disappoint. He reappears before long, the corpse of the man dragged behind him like an afterthought.
He's crying. Jared is crying, and Jensen hops off the rock, into the water, swims to Jared's side and tries to brush the tears from his cheeks.
Jared's skin is still green, his teeth and claws still sharp. His eyes are the same brilliant hazel as they always are, but the pupils are blood red instead of black.
"Why are you here?" he demands. He pulls his victim closer so that the body is floating between Jared and Jensen and shoves it toward Jensen. "I brought you a gift, Jensen. Do you see now what happens to the people I kiss?"
Jensen doesn't waste his time on the dead. That man took a kiss that should have been Jensen's. Drowning was a kinder death than Jensen would have chosen. "Why him? Why not me?"
Jared lets out a sob. "I tried not to," he says. "It was a test. I tried to fight it when I kissed him. I tried to let him live." He looks toward the corpse and lets 'look how that turned out' go unspoken. "I didn't even want him. I only want you. I only want you and yet I couldn't fight it for him. It'll be so much stronger if I kiss you, Jensen. I can't do that. I can't. I-I want to. But then you'll be gone, so soon. Gone."
Jensen lifts Jared's chin with a finger and the edges of his lips curl upward. "Don't you see? That's what I want. I want to be yours."
Jared shakes his head, but Jensen draws closer. "Please kiss me," he begs. "Jared, kiss me."
Something snaps in his siren then. Strong arms wrap around Jensen's neck and Jared's mouth meets his with a violent force. The kiss is everything Jensen could have wished for in a life and then more, the sweep of Jared's tongue tasting of salt and blood and magic.
He hardly registers when they go under. He doesn't fight, not like the unworthy prey Jared chose before him. He won't waste these moments fighting, they don't have very long. Jensen can feel his lungs filling with water, the urge to return to the surface for air. He's already drowning and his eyes are burning from the salt in them, but he won't close them, won't look away from his Jared.
It's not hard to read the horror in Jared's eyes. His monster is trying very hard to let go, to make himself give Jensen up. Jensen will never forgive him if he succeeds.
Then, nothing. His lungs stop screaming for air. The pain all subsides. He can see Jared, but the kiss begins to change. Jensen can't move. He can't even kiss Jared back. He feels his heart freezing, his legs. His arms, wrapped tight around Jared, are no longer his to move.
Jensen goes under.
_______________________________________________________________
When he wakes, Jensen is still sunken. He's not dead, though. He's somewhere that looks like a cave, but the cave is littered with signs of life-and of death. There are chests of gold and gems scattered across the sandy floor, a large bed, and Jensen can see a pile of corpses.
But he can't see Jared. He doesn't wonder how he can be alive or worry that maybe he isn't. He just feels relief. He can't see Jared, but he remembers him. He knows what he's looking for.
"Are you awake, my treasure?"
Jensen's relief is overwhelming. He tries to turn to face Jared, but he can't. He's still frozen, and as he looks down as much as he can without moving, he realizes he's changed. His body is bright white, a shimmer where a ray of sun has managed to penetrate through the water and into the cave that tells him his body is a beautiful, smooth surface.
"I hope you aren't upset," Jared says, finally swimming into vision. "It was the only way I could keep you. My Jensen. You were going to drown."
Jensen can't smile. Can't reassure him. All he can do is look and look his fill. A wonderful way to spend eternity.
"Don't be upset," Jared continues, approaching Jensen. He drapes a gold necklace around Jensen's pearl neck, jewels hanging off of it the like of which Jensen has never seen in his life. He kisses Jensen, and that's the most valuable gift in this cave full of prizes. "I'll give you anything you could ever want."
Jared turns toward one of the bodies, picks up a skull. There's a crown on its head, and Jared snatches that off, tossing the head over his shoulder. He places the crown on Jensen instead. "Anything, anything. I'll sink a thousand ships for you. We can be together forever."
Jared curls up in his arms, which are still posed as they were when last Jensen could move. They're in just the right position to hold Jared close to him. Jensen can't feel the warmth of his skin, but it's enough to imagine he can.
"Forever," Jared promises again, kissing him. "You'll like it. Don't be upset with me. I couldn't just let you die."
Jensen can't reassure him, can't make that guilty edge leave Jared's perfect hazel and crimson eyes.
"Forever," Jared promises.
And there they live, ever after.