The island sucks

[petunias_fan]

Who: Jensen and Shaun
When: Afternoon, backdated to before Jensen’s post about Clay’s disappearance
Where: Jensen & Shaun’s cottage
What: Jensen finds out that Clay has disappeared

Comments

[chainmailshirt]

Shaun had been checking up on the network and working on a few things when he heard Jensen come in. He smiled to himself, glancing over his shoulder, expecting his boyfriend to pop in, and when he didn't he'd been about to call out to him. Before he could, however, Jensen spoke. For a moment, he just sat there, surprised, but it only lasted a second before he was up and out of the room, moving over to the couch and sitting down beside his boyfriend.

"Shit," he said quietly, and he reached out, setting a hand gently on Jensen's elbow so that he could easily pull away if he wanted to. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Do you know when?"

[petunias_fan]

Jensen unconsciously leaned toward Shaun a little. Swallowing, he shook his head and distractedly replied, "I, um..." he shook his head. "Um, no. Sometime between the last time we talked to him and now." He'd been here mostly. They'd been settling in and he'd wanted to be here for Shaun during George's disappearance.

"The whole place is empty. Even the security system we set up is gone. It's like the whole building just reset itself. He--He's just gone." A memory of Clay's first day on the island flashed through his mind. He'd forgotten all about it, hadn't thought of it since, but now it was as fucking clear as if it were yesterday--Clay dirty with soot, mouth twisting wryly as he said Aisha seems to live by the old adage, kill two birds with one stone. Except in this case, Max and I were the birds and the stone was an incendiary grenade. He'd seen the handy work of incendiary grenades and now he couldn't stop fucking seeing it. All he could think of was skin blackened to a fucking crisp and that smell of burnt flesh and that had

[chainmailshirt]

Shaun just listened, nodding as he talked, his eyebrows knit together in an expression that was something between a mix of concerned and disturbed. It was fucking disturbing that all these people were getting taken and, fuck, the two of them had lost so many people in the last several months.

Carefully, Shaun slid his hand up Jensen's arm and around his shoulder, watching for any sign that Jensen would want to pull away until he finally wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in gently against him. Jensen seemed especially shaken up, and he wasn't sure why. He knew that the two of them were close, Clay was the closest thing to family he had here, but he'd be there when they got back. He expected him to be upset, pissed even, but he just seemed...shaken up.

He stroked his back softly, hand making small circles, and kissed the top of his head. "Is there anything else?"

[petunias_fan]

The touches were comforting and Jensen could feel some of the tension leeching out of his body. He leaned into Shaun more and rubbing the back of his neck, clearing his throat ineffectually against the lump that seemed to have taken permanent residence there. “Clay, um. Clay is dead,” he said. He paused, brow knitting because this whole thing was complicated as fucked and screwed up as fuck. “Not when I’m from. It happens after. I’m not sure when--I don’t think long after. A, um, a incendiary grenade. Aisha--Remember her? I think I showed you a picture. She--she killed him.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Shoulda fucking seen that coming. Crazy bitch collected fucking ears for Christ’s sake.” He should have fucking known it was only a matter of fucking time before she tried to kill them