Blood Ties - Chapter 2
Blood Ties - Chapter 2
Jensen liked to tell people that he knew Jared before he was even born and in all honesty it wasn’t far from the truth. Heather Padalecki worked as Yvonne Ackles’ personal assistant, keeping her schedule and organizing her luncheons, but it seemed the thing that Yvonne needed the most assistance with was Jensen. Yvonne didn’t possess much in the way of maternal instinct and anything dealing with her only child was delegated to Heather. When Yvonne was too busy doing whatever occupied her days to pay attention to her sandy-haired, green-eyed angel, Heather was there. She read Jensen stories, played games with him, but most importantly she gave him the gift
of her time. Her laugh came easily, the sound like the tinkling of the hanging crystals on the hall chandelier when the maid cleaned them, and she never tried to hide it behind her hand like Mother did. She allowed Jensen to learn and explore, safely encouraging his childish curiosity and feeding his need for knowledge. She supported him developmentally, intellectually and emotionally. Jensen was never turned away when he sought her out for affection or attention, was always welcomed with open arms, and he loved her.
Her husband, James, was just as kind as his wife. He worked for the Family, capital F, and sometimes he would stop by to see his wife and would spend a few minutes with them. Jensen could remember asking James one day what he did for his dad. Even at a young age, he knew that his father was important, but didn’t understand exactly what made him so. James winked at his wife and smiled at Jensen. “I’m an accountant, buddy. Do you know what an accountant does?”
Jensen shook his head.
“They account. Like this.” He took Jensen’s hand and extended his index finger. “Ah-one, ah-two, ah-three.” He ticked off the numbers on pudgy little digits, Heather regarding them both fondly.
Decades later, Jensen still had to suppress a nostalgic smirk every time he met with his accountant, Vincent. No matter how hard he tried, he always pictured the mousy man sitting in his office surrounded by stacks of coins like Scrooge McDuck and counting them out one-by-one…ah-one, ah-two, ah-three.
Jensen was the first in the family and the Family to know that Heather and James were going to have a baby. Heather was reading him The Tale of Peter Rabbit as he sat snuggled up against her side enraptured by the story of mischievous Peter and his three sisters. At a page turn, he looked up at her and took the finger he’d been sucking on out of his mouth.
“What’s it like?”
Heather smoothed down the page and gazed down at him with loving curiosity. “What’s what like, Sweetie?”
He jabbed a slightly damp finger at the drawing with Peter, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail. “Having a brother or sister?”
She gently took his finger between hers and dried the spit-wet digit then pressed a kiss to the pad. “It’s like never being alone.”
Jensen stared longingly at the picture. He’d asked for a baby brother for his last birthday and his mother had laughed - not a pretty tinkling laugh like Heather’s, but a harsh, mean laugh like the villains in Disney movies - telling him quite plainly that there wouldn’t be any baby brothers…or baby sisters for that matter. His little heart sunk at the thought of being alone.
Heather picked up on his change in mood and hugged him tightly to her side. “Hey,” she whispered into his hair, “Will you help me with something?”
Jensen dragged his eyes from the pastel illustration, the lower lids heavy with moisture, and nodded at her sadly. Maybe they were going to bake cookies. Jensen always liked helping Heather bake cookies.
“James and I are going to have a baby.” Her hand fluttered to her midsection. “And I’m going to need your help. See, babies are small and need a lot of love. They need people to look out for them and protect them, make sure that nothing bad happens to them or hurts them. Do you think you can be my big boy and help me with that?”
Smile turning tentatively hopeful, Jensen’s heart grew lighter as he sat up on his knees. “Like a big brother?”
Dropping a kiss to his forehead, Heather smiled. “Exactly. Just like a big brother.” She knew that her child and Jensen would grow up close, could feel it in her bones that they’d always be in each other’s lives.
Jensen flung his arms around Heather’s neck and hugged her. “Yes!” He exclaimed a little too loudly to be so close to her ear. “Imma be the best big brother and me and baby will never be alone.”
“That’s right, dear. Neither of you will ever be alone.”
Seven months later Jensen was called into the sitting room by his mother. He’d been playing in his room most of the morning, running his Matchbox cars along the chair rail and door moldings in an attempt to stave off his mounting boredom. It had been a week since the last time he’d seen Heather and he felt a little smaller every day without her warm smiles and gentle touches. Yvonne checked on him sporadically during the day, but was always on her way somewhere so she couldn’t stay and read or play or talk with him.
He timidly stepped into the overly decorated room, all shyness dissolving the moment his eyes landed on Heather sitting on the small loveseat. He ran across the room, feet skidding to a halt at the sight of a lumpy, blue, mounded blanket in her lap. Heather smiled that smile she saved for Jensen and James and motioned him closer.
“Jensen, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She shifted the blanket at one end and Jensen gasped at the set of clear blue eyes that stared up at him. “This is Jared.”
Mesmerized, Jensen’s finger drifted up. He wanted to touch but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “Hey, Jared.” Awe quieted his words, made them come out reverent. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared wiggled in Heather’s arms, the swaddling loosening and a chubby arm coming free. Warmth surrounded Jensen’s finger and he looked down to see tiny fingers wrapped around his. His eyes widened, afraid that he’d done something wrong, and shot up to Heather’s face.
She laughed her tinkling crystal laugh. “Jared’s saying hello back. He likes you.”
“I like him, too,” Jensen answered, staring back at Jared. Jared’s tongue poked through his pursed rosebud lips and Jensen mimicked him. “Can I keep him?”
“Jensen!”
He snapped back having completely forgotten that his mother was even in the room. He only had eyes for the little baby being held by his favorite person in the world. “S-sorry,” he stammered, tears springing to his eyes. It was an automatic reaction to his mother, the tone the only one he’d ever known from the woman.
“It’s okay, Yvonne,” Heather assured. “You can’t have him, Jensen, but when he gets older I might let you borrow him to play with.” She watched the small boy for a minute, taking in the way he was completely enamored with her newborn son. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Heather, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Jensen might hurt him.” Yvonne had sat back and witnessed the exchange between her assistant and her son, thinking for the first time that she might have made a poor decision not being more involved in Jensen’s life. She’d never seen him look at her like he was looking at Heather.
“Jensen won’t hurt Jared.” Heather scooted over a little to make room for Jensen on the loveseat beside her. “Will you, Sweetie?”
“Never,” Jensen breathed as the weight and warmth of Jared was settled into his arms. Heather adjusted his hold, shoring it so Jared was secure, before grabbing the camera from the diaper bag at her feet. Jensen managed to pull his gaze from Jared at the prompt of “cheese” just in time to see a flash of white.
Jared fussed at the sudden light, blinking his eyes and squinting against the harshness. Jensen shushed him gently, Jared quieting at his soothing words. “It’s okay, Jared. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will,” Heather murmured, running a hand over Jensen’s head as she sat back down beside her boys.
Years passed and Heather’s bones were proven correct. The boys grew up close despite the four year age gap and Jensen “borrowed” Jared every chance he got. It was never the plan for Jared to accompany Heather to work each day, but seeing how much Jensen enjoyed having the infant there, Yvonne suggested it. Yvonne was willing to put up with another carpet crawler in her home as long as it kept her in Jensen’s good graces.
Jensen doted on Jared even when the younger boy didn’t do more than smile at him from his bassinet and when Jared was older he hero worshipped Jensen. When it was time for Jensen to attend school, Jared cried all day over the loss of his friend and Jensen barely paid attention in class, mind constantly distracted by thoughts of how Jared was doing without him. A few years later, Jensen held Jared’s hand and guided him down the impersonal halls to his classroom, soothing first day jitters with promises of new friends and Jensen waiting for him at the end of the day. Neither realized it at the time, but they were setting a precedent of Jensen walking Jared to class each day that would last until Jensen graduated nearly a decade later. It was just one of the many ways that Jensen fulfilled his promise of protecting Jared, keeping him safe.
They were your typical boys, thick as thieves and twice as sneaky. What one didn’t think of, the other did. Heather loved to sit and watch them at play, able to picture in her mind’s eye the adults they’d become. She could plainly see the utter love and devotion they had for one another and the way their personalities complemented each other - Jared’s tender heart gentling the temper Jensen inherited from his father and Jensen’s natural adventurousness coaxing Jared from the timid nature he’d gotten from her. If she ever doubted the existence of soul mates, these two were proof positive that they were real. They completed each other, balanced one another, and gave her hope that her boys would escape the harsh reality and bitter violence of the world they were born into.
Unfortunately, Heather wasn’t the only one watching the boys, witnessing their interactions and imagining their future, but instead of feeling hope at the idea of Jensen and Jared having lives outside of the Family, this person only felt fear.
*****
Jensen leaned against the door jamb to the back study and grinned at the sight of Jared bent over a thick Algebra book, working a line of problems. This room had been designed for them to use. It served a dual purpose of giving them a space to study or play video games while confining them to a single part of the house, away from the business dealings conducted at the front of the mansion.
“Hey, Jay,” he called, dangling a key chain from his index finger. “Wanna go for a ride?”
“Go for a what?” Jared looked up, brow creased in confusion. Seeing the car keys in Jensen’s hand, his mouth fell open and his eyes widened comically. “No way!”
“Yes way!” Jensen answered. “So, you coming or what?” He jiggled the keys. He’d turned sixteen the week prior, but his father felt Jensen driving himself posed too much of security risk. The younger Ackles appealed to his mother, who for some reason always loved it when Jensen turned to her, and she’d used her own brand of persuasion to help Andrew see Jensen’s point. Given his father’s status and his mother’s need to keep up appearances, he’d expected a sleek, foreign-made car, but apparently when Heather heard of Andrew’s acquiescence she reasoned with him that their enemies would expect Jensen to drive something flashy and imported. She suggested that something more blue-collar might be less conspicuous. Andrew took Heather’s words to heart, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Jared would occupy the passenger’s seat more often than not, so Heather did have a vested interest in the subject, and now Jensen was the proud owner of a shiny black Chevy Silverado.
“Heck, yeah!” Jared jumped up, tipping his chair backwards and knocking his knee on the underside of the desk in his haste. “Ow!” His face scrunched up and he rubbed when there would undoubtedly be a bruise tomorrow.
Jensen chuckled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Jared had shot up over the summer, his arms and legs lengthening disproportionately to the rest of his body and making him clumsy and accident-prone. “Spaz,” Jensen teased, watching Jared struggle to slot his arm in the sleeves of his coat.
Adjusting the collar and making two failed attempts to grab his scarf from the bookshelf, Jared finally snagged the wool tartan. “You love me,” he quipped wrapping the softened plaid around his neck.
“Yeah, I do,” Jensen sighed without thought, voice soft and resigned rather than dripping with sarcasm like it normally would. He froze, stunned. It was a familiar banter back and forth, one they’d done hundreds of times since Jared learned to talk and Jensen taught him to be a smart ass, but this time it was different. As Jensen said his expected line, it dawned on him that he’d never said truer words. He loved Jared. Not as a brother, not as a friend, but as something more.
Jared, oblivious to Jensen’s mood change, snatched the keys from Jensen’s finger with a deftness that one wouldn’t have expected given his fumbling of the past few minutes and darted out the door with a laugh. Jensen stood rooted to the spot - he was having an epiphany here. Shouldn’t there be a light bulb over his head or a choir of angels singing when these things happened?
What was he supposed to do? Even if Jared somehow felt the same way, he was twelve years-old for Christ’s sake. Jensen bit the side of his mouth, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“Jen? You coming or what?” Jared yelled down the hallway, tossing Jensen’s own words back at him.
Jensen swallowed, taking a deep breath. He would do what he had to, push these feelings deep and never let Jared know. He promised to protect Jared, even if it was from his own feelings. If someday, by some miracle, Jared gave him any indication then he would act on it, until that happened, he would be Jared’s friend, his brother…nothing more.
“Coming!”
*****
It wasn’t long after Jensen had his revelation that his and Jared lives changed forever. They were in the back study, Jared kicking his ass at Super Mario Kart as usual.
“Come on!” Jensen growled at Luigi as Jared’s Mario slipped past him to take the lead.
Jared’s crow of victory was cut off abruptly when Jensen’s father came in. It was such a rare occurrence for Andrew to visit them during the day that Jensen knew something was seriously wrong, but his father’s pale, drawn face cinched it. Jensen slowly put his controller down on the table and sat back, Jared pausing the game and mirroring him. He could feel Jared trembling beside him - the younger boy also sensing the odd heaviness in the air - and he pressed his shoulder to his friend’s in comfort.
Andrew took a seat in the squashy arm chair and faced the two boys, elbows on this thighs and hands clasped together between his spread knees. “Boys…” He licked his lips and seemed to be looking for the right words.
Jensen’s sense of foreboding doubled. His father was never uncertain, never had to search for the correct thing to say. He was a smooth talker, words falling from his lips like water from a faucet. “What is it, Dad?”
“There was an accident,” Andrew started, tenting his fingers.
Jensen’s heart faltered. Who was it? Who’d been hurt? Mom? Was it Mom? When was the last time Jensen had seen her? Yesterday? The day before? Jensen could barely get air past the lump in his throat. Yvonne would never win Mother of the Year - hell, she wouldn’t even be in the running - but she was still his mother.
“I…” Andrew stared at his hands. “I’m so sorry.” His sad gaze flickered up to them, lasting a fraction of a second longer on Jared before returning to his hands.
Jensen was a bright boy, ask anyone who knew him, and sudden understanding dawned on him. The lump in his throat grew, robbing him of breath completely. Yvonne was fine, probably in the house somewhere preoccupied with something that wasn’t Jensen. No, this was worse. Jensen’s chest felt hollow, his beating heart replaced with a yawning ache that felt all consuming.
Unfortunately, Jensen wasn’t the only bright boy in the room. The Nintendo controller fell from shock-numb hands and landed with a muted thud on the lush carpeting, the game unpausing with the impact. On the screen, Mario veered to the right and tumbled to his death over the side of the Rainbow Road.
“No!” The gasp was low and Jensen’s eyes slowly slid shut at the wretched, pained sound coming from someone he loved so much, that ache settling into the marrow of his bones. Licking his lips, he opened them again knowing that the worst was yet to come.
“Jared, I’m so sorry.” Andrew moved to the coffee table, picking up Jensen’s Biology book and setting in his lap. Leaning his elbows against the hardback cover, the tips of his left hand fingers rested on the young boy’s knee. Jared tensed at the touch, but didn’t jerk away. “We’re pretty sure Vandermeer was behind it. I’m not sure why he chose to target them,” fine tremors vibrated against Jensen’s shoulder, “but I promise we’ll make this right.” He pulled his hand back, lifting it to rub at his chin. “Do you…do you have any other family? Someone we should contact?”
Jensen felt a flash of bright hot anger shoot through him as he glared incredulously at his father. Everyone knew Heather and James were only children and that both sets of Jared’s grandparents were long since dead. How could his Dad not? James had worked for the man for almost 17 years. The shivers along his shoulder grew worse, shaking Jensen as much as they shook Jared.
Jared ducked his head, eyes trained on the thinning knees of his worn jeans, and slowly, dully shook his head. His normally tan skin was distressingly white and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths that passed noiselessly through his parted mouth and his face twitched as he tried to master his emotions.
Jensen wanted to grab him, wrap him up and never let go. He snaked his arm around bony shoulders and tugged Jared into his side. He laid his other hand over Jared’s where the other boy was knotting his fingers together until the knuckles blanched. The digits were cold.
“Don’t worry, Jared.” Jensen’s gaze snapped up at the tone in his father’s voice. If he didn’t know better, if the circumstances were different, he’d have sworn it bordered on satisfied. He thought he caught a flash of something in the man’s eyes, but it was gone before he could get a better look. “We’ll take care of it. You’re family, Jared,” Andrew reached out again and squeezed Jared’s knee, a paternal smile forced on his face, “and we take care of our family.”
Jared didn’t lift his head, didn’t indicate he’d heard Andrew at all, just continued to stare at his knees. Jensen hugged him tighter, Jared’s head shifting to the side to lean against Jensen’s shoulder.
“All right, then.” Andrew slapped his hands down over the flower pictured on cover of Jensen’s text book then moved it back to the table. Rubbing his hands together, he stood up and looked down at the two boys. Nodding, he walked out of the room.
Jared’s teeth were chattering he was shivering so badly, his whole frame vibrating. Jensen tugged and pulled until Jared was sitting across his lap and wrapped him in his arms like he’d been wanting to. Shaggy hair tickled the tender skin of Jensen’s neck as Jared tucked his head against him. Long fingers fisted into Jensen’s sweater and the warm breaths ghosting just above the collarbone turned increasingly damp. Jensen squeezed him to his chest as the first of the sobs broke free. He dropped kisses to silken hair and let the scent of coconut shampoo soothe his own mourning heart. Heather had been more mother to him than Yvonne ever dreamed of being and Jensen felt the loss deeply.
Jared curled into him, bowed under the weight of his grief, and Jensen blinked his budding tears away. Heather may be gone, but Jensen would keep his promise to her. Clutching the weeping boy to his chest, he reaffirmed his vow to keep Jared safe and protect him.
When Jared had cried himself out for the time being, eyes red and dry and sniffles dying out slowly, Jensen helped him to his feet and guided him upstairs to his bedroom. Jared went pliantly, walking as if in a trance. In the room, Jensen set him on the edge of the bed and knelt down to remove his shoes. He quickly stripped Jared down to his boxes then dug through his drawer until he found the softest shirt he owned. Jared lifted his arms obediently, but the movements were mechanical. The shirt was a little big on Jensen’s stockier frame and practically swallowed the slighter boy. Jensen tucked Jared under his thick comforter, pulling it up high on Jared’s chest like he knew his friend liked.
He dropped his clothes and climbed into bed. He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around Jared’s waist, pulling his cold and still shivering body into his warmth. Jensen felt Jared’s fingers twitch against his forearm then slowly they trailed down to interlock with Jensen’s own. It was quiet like the night was mourning with them and Jensen pressed his cheek to Jared’s shoulder blade.
“They’re gone.” It was the first thing he’d said since his denying exhale and, in the silence, his whisper was as loud and final as a passing bell.
Jensen turned his face and pressed his forehead to the nape of Jared’s neck. “I know.”
Jared shuddered. “I’m all alone.”
Jensen hugged him tighter. “As long as you have me, you’ll never be alone.”
*****
Less than a week later, Jensen and Jared donned their best suits and somber ties and stood side-by-side as Heather and James Padalecki were laid to rest. Jared didn’t cry, told Jensen he wouldn’t because his mother hated to see him cry, but clung to Jensen’s hand like a lifeline. They stayed at the graveside as the other funeral-goers offered their condolences and drifted off. When they were alone, Jared moved between the two open graves and crouched down, cupping a handful of dirt each hand. He dropped one over his mother’s casket and the other over his father’s. “I love you,” Jared murmured, staring down at the white and gunmetal grey coffins.
He stood up, brushing away the dirt clinging to his sweaty palms, and moved back to Jensen’s side. “I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
Jensen couldn’t hold back his tears in the face of Jared pain. They slid slowly down the contours of his cheeks and fell freely on the manicured lawn. He put his arm around Jared’s shoulders and they started back toward the waiting limousine. Andrew made arrangements for Jared’s things to be moved to the house the day after the accident, Heather and James’ going to storage until Jared was up to sorting through them.
Jensen held the door open for him and shuffled in beside him. Jared leaned against his side, salt water soaking into black wool.
Jensen liked to tell people that he knew Jared before he was even born and in all honesty it wasn’t far from the truth. Heather Padalecki worked as Yvonne Ackles’ personal assistant, keeping her schedule and organizing her luncheons, but it seemed the thing that Yvonne needed the most assistance with was Jensen. Yvonne didn’t possess much in the way of maternal instinct and anything dealing with her only child was delegated to Heather. When Yvonne was too busy doing whatever occupied her days to pay attention to her sandy-haired, green-eyed angel, Heather was there. She read Jensen stories, played games with him, but most importantly she gave him the gift
of her time. Her laugh came easily, the sound like the tinkling of the hanging crystals on the hall chandelier when the maid cleaned them, and she never tried to hide it behind her hand like Mother did. She allowed Jensen to learn and explore, safely encouraging his childish curiosity and feeding his need for knowledge. She supported him developmentally, intellectually and emotionally. Jensen was never turned away when he sought her out for affection or attention, was always welcomed with open arms, and he loved her.
Her husband, James, was just as kind as his wife. He worked for the Family, capital F, and sometimes he would stop by to see his wife and would spend a few minutes with them. Jensen could remember asking James one day what he did for his dad. Even at a young age, he knew that his father was important, but didn’t understand exactly what made him so. James winked at his wife and smiled at Jensen. “I’m an accountant, buddy. Do you know what an accountant does?”
Jensen shook his head.
“They account. Like this.” He took Jensen’s hand and extended his index finger. “Ah-one, ah-two, ah-three.” He ticked off the numbers on pudgy little digits, Heather regarding them both fondly.
Decades later, Jensen still had to suppress a nostalgic smirk every time he met with his accountant, Vincent. No matter how hard he tried, he always pictured the mousy man sitting in his office surrounded by stacks of coins like Scrooge McDuck and counting them out one-by-one…ah-one, ah-two, ah-three.
Jensen was the first in the family and the Family to know that Heather and James were going to have a baby. Heather was reading him The Tale of Peter Rabbit as he sat snuggled up against her side enraptured by the story of mischievous Peter and his three sisters. At a page turn, he looked up at her and took the finger he’d been sucking on out of his mouth.
“What’s it like?”
Heather smoothed down the page and gazed down at him with loving curiosity. “What’s what like, Sweetie?”
He jabbed a slightly damp finger at the drawing with Peter, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail. “Having a brother or sister?”
She gently took his finger between hers and dried the spit-wet digit then pressed a kiss to the pad. “It’s like never being alone.”
Jensen stared longingly at the picture. He’d asked for a baby brother for his last birthday and his mother had laughed - not a pretty tinkling laugh like Heather’s, but a harsh, mean laugh like the villains in Disney movies - telling him quite plainly that there wouldn’t be any baby brothers…or baby sisters for that matter. His little heart sunk at the thought of being alone.
Heather picked up on his change in mood and hugged him tightly to her side. “Hey,” she whispered into his hair, “Will you help me with something?”
Jensen dragged his eyes from the pastel illustration, the lower lids heavy with moisture, and nodded at her sadly. Maybe they were going to bake cookies. Jensen always liked helping Heather bake cookies.
“James and I are going to have a baby.” Her hand fluttered to her midsection. “And I’m going to need your help. See, babies are small and need a lot of love. They need people to look out for them and protect them, make sure that nothing bad happens to them or hurts them. Do you think you can be my big boy and help me with that?”
Smile turning tentatively hopeful, Jensen’s heart grew lighter as he sat up on his knees. “Like a big brother?”
Dropping a kiss to his forehead, Heather smiled. “Exactly. Just like a big brother.” She knew that her child and Jensen would grow up close, could feel it in her bones that they’d always be in each other’s lives.
Jensen flung his arms around Heather’s neck and hugged her. “Yes!” He exclaimed a little too loudly to be so close to her ear. “Imma be the best big brother and me and baby will never be alone.”
“That’s right, dear. Neither of you will ever be alone.”
Seven months later Jensen was called into the sitting room by his mother. He’d been playing in his room most of the morning, running his Matchbox cars along the chair rail and door moldings in an attempt to stave off his mounting boredom. It had been a week since the last time he’d seen Heather and he felt a little smaller every day without her warm smiles and gentle touches. Yvonne checked on him sporadically during the day, but was always on her way somewhere so she couldn’t stay and read or play or talk with him.
He timidly stepped into the overly decorated room, all shyness dissolving the moment his eyes landed on Heather sitting on the small loveseat. He ran across the room, feet skidding to a halt at the sight of a lumpy, blue, mounded blanket in her lap. Heather smiled that smile she saved for Jensen and James and motioned him closer.
“Jensen, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She shifted the blanket at one end and Jensen gasped at the set of clear blue eyes that stared up at him. “This is Jared.”
Mesmerized, Jensen’s finger drifted up. He wanted to touch but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “Hey, Jared.” Awe quieted his words, made them come out reverent. “I’m Jensen.”
Jared wiggled in Heather’s arms, the swaddling loosening and a chubby arm coming free. Warmth surrounded Jensen’s finger and he looked down to see tiny fingers wrapped around his. His eyes widened, afraid that he’d done something wrong, and shot up to Heather’s face.
She laughed her tinkling crystal laugh. “Jared’s saying hello back. He likes you.”
“I like him, too,” Jensen answered, staring back at Jared. Jared’s tongue poked through his pursed rosebud lips and Jensen mimicked him. “Can I keep him?”
“Jensen!”
He snapped back having completely forgotten that his mother was even in the room. He only had eyes for the little baby being held by his favorite person in the world. “S-sorry,” he stammered, tears springing to his eyes. It was an automatic reaction to his mother, the tone the only one he’d ever known from the woman.
“It’s okay, Yvonne,” Heather assured. “You can’t have him, Jensen, but when he gets older I might let you borrow him to play with.” She watched the small boy for a minute, taking in the way he was completely enamored with her newborn son. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Heather, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Jensen might hurt him.” Yvonne had sat back and witnessed the exchange between her assistant and her son, thinking for the first time that she might have made a poor decision not being more involved in Jensen’s life. She’d never seen him look at her like he was looking at Heather.
“Jensen won’t hurt Jared.” Heather scooted over a little to make room for Jensen on the loveseat beside her. “Will you, Sweetie?”
“Never,” Jensen breathed as the weight and warmth of Jared was settled into his arms. Heather adjusted his hold, shoring it so Jared was secure, before grabbing the camera from the diaper bag at her feet. Jensen managed to pull his gaze from Jared at the prompt of “cheese” just in time to see a flash of white.
Jared fussed at the sudden light, blinking his eyes and squinting against the harshness. Jensen shushed him gently, Jared quieting at his soothing words. “It’s okay, Jared. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will,” Heather murmured, running a hand over Jensen’s head as she sat back down beside her boys.
Years passed and Heather’s bones were proven correct. The boys grew up close despite the four year age gap and Jensen “borrowed” Jared every chance he got. It was never the plan for Jared to accompany Heather to work each day, but seeing how much Jensen enjoyed having the infant there, Yvonne suggested it. Yvonne was willing to put up with another carpet crawler in her home as long as it kept her in Jensen’s good graces.
Jensen doted on Jared even when the younger boy didn’t do more than smile at him from his bassinet and when Jared was older he hero worshipped Jensen. When it was time for Jensen to attend school, Jared cried all day over the loss of his friend and Jensen barely paid attention in class, mind constantly distracted by thoughts of how Jared was doing without him. A few years later, Jensen held Jared’s hand and guided him down the impersonal halls to his classroom, soothing first day jitters with promises of new friends and Jensen waiting for him at the end of the day. Neither realized it at the time, but they were setting a precedent of Jensen walking Jared to class each day that would last until Jensen graduated nearly a decade later. It was just one of the many ways that Jensen fulfilled his promise of protecting Jared, keeping him safe.
They were your typical boys, thick as thieves and twice as sneaky. What one didn’t think of, the other did. Heather loved to sit and watch them at play, able to picture in her mind’s eye the adults they’d become. She could plainly see the utter love and devotion they had for one another and the way their personalities complemented each other - Jared’s tender heart gentling the temper Jensen inherited from his father and Jensen’s natural adventurousness coaxing Jared from the timid nature he’d gotten from her. If she ever doubted the existence of soul mates, these two were proof positive that they were real. They completed each other, balanced one another, and gave her hope that her boys would escape the harsh reality and bitter violence of the world they were born into.
Unfortunately, Heather wasn’t the only one watching the boys, witnessing their interactions and imagining their future, but instead of feeling hope at the idea of Jensen and Jared having lives outside of the Family, this person only felt fear.
*****
Jensen leaned against the door jamb to the back study and grinned at the sight of Jared bent over a thick Algebra book, working a line of problems. This room had been designed for them to use. It served a dual purpose of giving them a space to study or play video games while confining them to a single part of the house, away from the business dealings conducted at the front of the mansion.
“Hey, Jay,” he called, dangling a key chain from his index finger. “Wanna go for a ride?”
“Go for a what?” Jared looked up, brow creased in confusion. Seeing the car keys in Jensen’s hand, his mouth fell open and his eyes widened comically. “No way!”
“Yes way!” Jensen answered. “So, you coming or what?” He jiggled the keys. He’d turned sixteen the week prior, but his father felt Jensen driving himself posed too much of security risk. The younger Ackles appealed to his mother, who for some reason always loved it when Jensen turned to her, and she’d used her own brand of persuasion to help Andrew see Jensen’s point. Given his father’s status and his mother’s need to keep up appearances, he’d expected a sleek, foreign-made car, but apparently when Heather heard of Andrew’s acquiescence she reasoned with him that their enemies would expect Jensen to drive something flashy and imported. She suggested that something more blue-collar might be less conspicuous. Andrew took Heather’s words to heart, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Jared would occupy the passenger’s seat more often than not, so Heather did have a vested interest in the subject, and now Jensen was the proud owner of a shiny black Chevy Silverado.
“Heck, yeah!” Jared jumped up, tipping his chair backwards and knocking his knee on the underside of the desk in his haste. “Ow!” His face scrunched up and he rubbed when there would undoubtedly be a bruise tomorrow.
Jensen chuckled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Jared had shot up over the summer, his arms and legs lengthening disproportionately to the rest of his body and making him clumsy and accident-prone. “Spaz,” Jensen teased, watching Jared struggle to slot his arm in the sleeves of his coat.
Adjusting the collar and making two failed attempts to grab his scarf from the bookshelf, Jared finally snagged the wool tartan. “You love me,” he quipped wrapping the softened plaid around his neck.
“Yeah, I do,” Jensen sighed without thought, voice soft and resigned rather than dripping with sarcasm like it normally would. He froze, stunned. It was a familiar banter back and forth, one they’d done hundreds of times since Jared learned to talk and Jensen taught him to be a smart ass, but this time it was different. As Jensen said his expected line, it dawned on him that he’d never said truer words. He loved Jared. Not as a brother, not as a friend, but as something more.
Jared, oblivious to Jensen’s mood change, snatched the keys from Jensen’s finger with a deftness that one wouldn’t have expected given his fumbling of the past few minutes and darted out the door with a laugh. Jensen stood rooted to the spot - he was having an epiphany here. Shouldn’t there be a light bulb over his head or a choir of angels singing when these things happened?
What was he supposed to do? Even if Jared somehow felt the same way, he was twelve years-old for Christ’s sake. Jensen bit the side of his mouth, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“Jen? You coming or what?” Jared yelled down the hallway, tossing Jensen’s own words back at him.
Jensen swallowed, taking a deep breath. He would do what he had to, push these feelings deep and never let Jared know. He promised to protect Jared, even if it was from his own feelings. If someday, by some miracle, Jared gave him any indication then he would act on it, until that happened, he would be Jared’s friend, his brother…nothing more.
“Coming!”
*****
It wasn’t long after Jensen had his revelation that his and Jared lives changed forever. They were in the back study, Jared kicking his ass at Super Mario Kart as usual.
“Come on!” Jensen growled at Luigi as Jared’s Mario slipped past him to take the lead.
Jared’s crow of victory was cut off abruptly when Jensen’s father came in. It was such a rare occurrence for Andrew to visit them during the day that Jensen knew something was seriously wrong, but his father’s pale, drawn face cinched it. Jensen slowly put his controller down on the table and sat back, Jared pausing the game and mirroring him. He could feel Jared trembling beside him - the younger boy also sensing the odd heaviness in the air - and he pressed his shoulder to his friend’s in comfort.
Andrew took a seat in the squashy arm chair and faced the two boys, elbows on this thighs and hands clasped together between his spread knees. “Boys…” He licked his lips and seemed to be looking for the right words.
Jensen’s sense of foreboding doubled. His father was never uncertain, never had to search for the correct thing to say. He was a smooth talker, words falling from his lips like water from a faucet. “What is it, Dad?”
“There was an accident,” Andrew started, tenting his fingers.
Jensen’s heart faltered. Who was it? Who’d been hurt? Mom? Was it Mom? When was the last time Jensen had seen her? Yesterday? The day before? Jensen could barely get air past the lump in his throat. Yvonne would never win Mother of the Year - hell, she wouldn’t even be in the running - but she was still his mother.
“I…” Andrew stared at his hands. “I’m so sorry.” His sad gaze flickered up to them, lasting a fraction of a second longer on Jared before returning to his hands.
Jensen was a bright boy, ask anyone who knew him, and sudden understanding dawned on him. The lump in his throat grew, robbing him of breath completely. Yvonne was fine, probably in the house somewhere preoccupied with something that wasn’t Jensen. No, this was worse. Jensen’s chest felt hollow, his beating heart replaced with a yawning ache that felt all consuming.
Unfortunately, Jensen wasn’t the only bright boy in the room. The Nintendo controller fell from shock-numb hands and landed with a muted thud on the lush carpeting, the game unpausing with the impact. On the screen, Mario veered to the right and tumbled to his death over the side of the Rainbow Road.
“No!” The gasp was low and Jensen’s eyes slowly slid shut at the wretched, pained sound coming from someone he loved so much, that ache settling into the marrow of his bones. Licking his lips, he opened them again knowing that the worst was yet to come.
“Jared, I’m so sorry.” Andrew moved to the coffee table, picking up Jensen’s Biology book and setting in his lap. Leaning his elbows against the hardback cover, the tips of his left hand fingers rested on the young boy’s knee. Jared tensed at the touch, but didn’t jerk away. “We’re pretty sure Vandermeer was behind it. I’m not sure why he chose to target them,” fine tremors vibrated against Jensen’s shoulder, “but I promise we’ll make this right.” He pulled his hand back, lifting it to rub at his chin. “Do you…do you have any other family? Someone we should contact?”
Jensen felt a flash of bright hot anger shoot through him as he glared incredulously at his father. Everyone knew Heather and James were only children and that both sets of Jared’s grandparents were long since dead. How could his Dad not? James had worked for the man for almost 17 years. The shivers along his shoulder grew worse, shaking Jensen as much as they shook Jared.
Jared ducked his head, eyes trained on the thinning knees of his worn jeans, and slowly, dully shook his head. His normally tan skin was distressingly white and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths that passed noiselessly through his parted mouth and his face twitched as he tried to master his emotions.
Jensen wanted to grab him, wrap him up and never let go. He snaked his arm around bony shoulders and tugged Jared into his side. He laid his other hand over Jared’s where the other boy was knotting his fingers together until the knuckles blanched. The digits were cold.
“Don’t worry, Jared.” Jensen’s gaze snapped up at the tone in his father’s voice. If he didn’t know better, if the circumstances were different, he’d have sworn it bordered on satisfied. He thought he caught a flash of something in the man’s eyes, but it was gone before he could get a better look. “We’ll take care of it. You’re family, Jared,” Andrew reached out again and squeezed Jared’s knee, a paternal smile forced on his face, “and we take care of our family.”
Jared didn’t lift his head, didn’t indicate he’d heard Andrew at all, just continued to stare at his knees. Jensen hugged him tighter, Jared’s head shifting to the side to lean against Jensen’s shoulder.
“All right, then.” Andrew slapped his hands down over the flower pictured on cover of Jensen’s text book then moved it back to the table. Rubbing his hands together, he stood up and looked down at the two boys. Nodding, he walked out of the room.
Jared’s teeth were chattering he was shivering so badly, his whole frame vibrating. Jensen tugged and pulled until Jared was sitting across his lap and wrapped him in his arms like he’d been wanting to. Shaggy hair tickled the tender skin of Jensen’s neck as Jared tucked his head against him. Long fingers fisted into Jensen’s sweater and the warm breaths ghosting just above the collarbone turned increasingly damp. Jensen squeezed him to his chest as the first of the sobs broke free. He dropped kisses to silken hair and let the scent of coconut shampoo soothe his own mourning heart. Heather had been more mother to him than Yvonne ever dreamed of being and Jensen felt the loss deeply.
Jared curled into him, bowed under the weight of his grief, and Jensen blinked his budding tears away. Heather may be gone, but Jensen would keep his promise to her. Clutching the weeping boy to his chest, he reaffirmed his vow to keep Jared safe and protect him.
When Jared had cried himself out for the time being, eyes red and dry and sniffles dying out slowly, Jensen helped him to his feet and guided him upstairs to his bedroom. Jared went pliantly, walking as if in a trance. In the room, Jensen set him on the edge of the bed and knelt down to remove his shoes. He quickly stripped Jared down to his boxes then dug through his drawer until he found the softest shirt he owned. Jared lifted his arms obediently, but the movements were mechanical. The shirt was a little big on Jensen’s stockier frame and practically swallowed the slighter boy. Jensen tucked Jared under his thick comforter, pulling it up high on Jared’s chest like he knew his friend liked.
He dropped his clothes and climbed into bed. He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around Jared’s waist, pulling his cold and still shivering body into his warmth. Jensen felt Jared’s fingers twitch against his forearm then slowly they trailed down to interlock with Jensen’s own. It was quiet like the night was mourning with them and Jensen pressed his cheek to Jared’s shoulder blade.
“They’re gone.” It was the first thing he’d said since his denying exhale and, in the silence, his whisper was as loud and final as a passing bell.
Jensen turned his face and pressed his forehead to the nape of Jared’s neck. “I know.”
Jared shuddered. “I’m all alone.”
Jensen hugged him tighter. “As long as you have me, you’ll never be alone.”
*****
Less than a week later, Jensen and Jared donned their best suits and somber ties and stood side-by-side as Heather and James Padalecki were laid to rest. Jared didn’t cry, told Jensen he wouldn’t because his mother hated to see him cry, but clung to Jensen’s hand like a lifeline. They stayed at the graveside as the other funeral-goers offered their condolences and drifted off. When they were alone, Jared moved between the two open graves and crouched down, cupping a handful of dirt each hand. He dropped one over his mother’s casket and the other over his father’s. “I love you,” Jared murmured, staring down at the white and gunmetal grey coffins.
He stood up, brushing away the dirt clinging to his sweaty palms, and moved back to Jensen’s side. “I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
Jensen couldn’t hold back his tears in the face of Jared pain. They slid slowly down the contours of his cheeks and fell freely on the manicured lawn. He put his arm around Jared’s shoulders and they started back toward the waiting limousine. Andrew made arrangements for Jared’s things to be moved to the house the day after the accident, Heather and James’ going to storage until Jared was up to sorting through them.
Jensen held the door open for him and shuffled in beside him. Jared leaned against his side, salt water soaking into black wool.