Five Times Two - Part three
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As soon as the cab dropped them in front of Vancouver General Hospital, Jensen all but ran inside, letting Danneel pay the driver. He felt almost hysterical with worry, and his girlfriend’s attitude had only served to increase his tumultuous state of mind.
After Jensen had received Tom’s call, he hadn’t wasted any time and managed to get two direct flight tickets to Vancouver, departing in two hours. He had seen the way Danneel’s lips tightened while he pleaded with the airline agent on the phone, explaining that it was an emergency, but Jensen decided to ignore her reaction.
When he finally got what he wanted, he immediately started packing until she’d stopped him and suggested that they could, at least, wait until tomorrow. Aghast at her lack of concern, Jensen had threatened to leave without her, and only then did she realize that it was one-way tickets he’d booked.
The three hours of flying time between Los Angeles and Vancouver were full of tension and silent recriminations. Jensen was on the edge; he couldn’t check his phone during the flight, and he didn’t know if anything had changed with Jared’s condition. He was scared and angry while Danneel seethed beside him.
When they landed at Vancouver, Jensen wanted to go straight to the hospital but she argued that they needed to take their luggage to the house. After a shouting match, Jensen relented. When they reached his and Jared’s home, a wave of horror and anger washed through him. Cops were in front of and inside his house. He didn’t stop when they called him and just hurried into the living room, where he promptly slid on a puddle on the floor. A puddle of something red. Blood. Jared’s blood.
Jensen remembered throwing up, men talking, hands holding him, and Danneel’s voice. He remembered asking for Harley and Sadie with a dread feeling in his stomach. He remembered crying in relief, face burrowed in their fur, when a woman in uniform brought them to him.
When he and Danneel left the house and took a cab to the hospital, Jensen’s mind flashed images of the blood on the floor, the broken furniture, and the deep scratches that Harley and Sadie’s claws had left on the wooden door of the closet they had been locked into. This time, the silence during the drive was full of sorrow and fear. Jensen didn’t know how badly Jared had been injured, but all that blood...
Finally inside the hospital, he spotted the reception desk and asked the startled nurse where Jared Padalecki was. His appearance must have been a little scary, judging by the uncomfortable looks the nurse and her colleague kept sending him, but Jensen couldn’t care less. He headed towards the elevator and pushed the button of the floor Jared was on, Danneel silently trailing behind him. Jensen realized that she'd been very quiet since the house, and he was about to ask her if she was ok when the door of the elevator opened, revealing Tom and Mike standing not too far ahead.
“Jensen! Thanks God, you’re here!” Mike said.
Jensen hurried towards them and immediately started asking the questions that had been torturing him since Tom’s call.
“Where is Jared? Is he ok? Is it serious? What the hell happened? How did you find out? Why…”
“Whoa!” Mike exclaimed, raising a hand to stop Jensen’s panicked rant. “Slow down and calm yourself, Jen, Jared is… fine, he’s still unconscious and the doctors are with him.”
Mike's words didn’t reassure Jensen in the slightest, and something in his expression must have shown it. Tom put a solid, comforting hand on his shoulder while he guided him to a plastic chair right under the sole window in the hallway.
“Jensen, me and Mike didn’t get any news since I called you, aside from the fact that none of his injuries are life-threatening,” Tom said softly while sitting next to him.
Jensen nodded dumbly, his mind still reeling from having to hear the words “Jared” and life-threatening” in the same sentence, but he managed to realize that neither of his friends had answered the rest of his questions. He took a deep breath and sat straight on his chair, his tired and haunted gaze traveling between his two ex-cast mates.
“What happened?”
Tom and Mike exchanged a look that Jensen immediately recognize as their “Let’s spare the poor guy’s feeling” look. He’d seen it before but never directed at himself, and while all the other times Tom and Mike used it had amused him greatly, all Jensen wanted right now was total honesty.
“Don’t you dare,” Jensen warned them harshly. “Do not hide anything! I want… no, I need to know everything! Got it?”
Mike looked anxious and Tom’s eyes seemed to pierce through Jensen’s. Whatever the brunette was looking for must have shone in Jensen’s eyes, because Tom nodded slowly and started to talk.
“Jared called us earlier this evening. He invited Mike and I over to hang out at your house, you know, play with that new X-Box he bought you for your birthday? I think he was a little lonely… so Mike and I planned to come by around eight and to bring dinner.”
Jensen’s heart couldn’t help but twist painfully at the thought of Jared feeling alone or, god forbid, abandoned during Jensen's stay in L.A. Damnit! He never wanted to go in the first place, he should have trusted his heart. If only he had, then maybe Jared wouldn’t…
Jensen immediately cut off his dangerous train of thought and focused on Tom’s voice.
“The front door was wide open and we could hear Harley and Sadie howling from pretty far away… that’s… that’s when we knew something was wrong. We entered and went to the living room calling for Jared and…huh…”
Tom swallowed and looked away while Jensen was fighting the shivers running down his frame. Mike continued with a low and sorrowful voice:
“Jared was lying on the ground and there was blood on his shirt and on the side of his head. He had his left arm thrown against his face as if… as if he was trying to protect himself from a blow or something, except that his arm was obviously broken. He was… completely beat up and he wasn’t moving. I thought…”
Jensen started to feel his head spinning as Mike’s description formed a clear picture inside his head. He didn’t need to hear the rest of Mike’s sentence. He knew damn well what the other man had thought, and he couldn’t tolerate - much less stomach - the idea of it.
Except that it could have been. It could have happened. Jared could have died tonight and Jensen would have been - where? In L.A, once again faking that he was in love with someone else, because he’s been too chicken shit to take what he already considered his. Because of Jensen, Jared could have died alone.
Jared could have died.
Oh, God.
Before he knew it, Jensen was lying on the floor, unable to remember how he ended up there. He felt dizzy and found it difficult to breathe. He vaguely heard Mike and Danneel ‘s voices and felt Tom’s hand on his neck, but all strength had deserted him. He didn’t want to make any effort, he didn’t want to think. What was exactly the point at standing up or focusing? What mattered beyond the horrifying outcome of his cowardliness?
Jared is still alive.
Jensen opened the eyes he didn’t remember closing. Of course. That was the point, that was the focus. That mattered. Jared was still alive and Jensen loved him so much. He could still make things right.
“Mr. Ackles? Sir?”
Now, that was a voice he didn’t recognize. His green eyes darted to his left side, where a man with brown hair and warm black eyes was scrutinizing him.
“Deep breath, Mr. Ackles… that’s it, head between your knees. That’s good… there.”
Jensen obediently followed the man’s - the doctor’s, he assumed - instructions for several minutes before he straightened up, too exhausted to feel embarrassed by his lack of control and too worried about Jared to think much of it.
“How are you feeling now, Mr. Ackles? I’m Doctor Archer Stendhal, by the way. I’m also currently Jared’s surgeon.”
Whatever weakness Jensen felt went through the window as he heard those words, and adrenaline coursed his veins. He turned to face the other man and hastily fired his questions.
“How is Jared? Why does he need surgery? What are his injuries? Is he conscious? Can I see him?”
“Jared will be fine. He needs surgery because his left arm was fractured in two very delicate places, but none of the physical harm done to him tonight will be permanent. As I said, he has a broken arm; in addition to that, he has two broken ribs and four bruised ribs. He also needed twelve stitches on the right side of his forehead and twenty-three on his stomach. Thankfully, the blunt object that caused this particular flesh wound wasn’t deep enough to damage any internal organs, but Jared still lost an significant amount of blood. His legs and thighs are severely bruised; I think some heavy object, like a baseball bat, was used on them and on his back too, but again, nothing more was broken. The left side of his face is badly bruised but will heal nicely with the right treatment and some time. Jared is not conscious right now and I doubt that he will be until late tomorrow. As for seeing him, that will have to wait until after the surgery, which I need your authorization to perform, Mr. Ackles.”
A morbid silence settled upon the small group. Jensen stared at the doctor the entire time as the man answered all his questions, and now found himself battling a myriad of emotions. Horror was the most powerful one. The actor couldn’t help feeling like he was playing a part in some dramatic scene. Those awful things couldn’t happen in real life, and certainly not to Jared, of all people. Never to Jared.
But there were no one to scream “cut” and no red mark on the floor. The only red marks he had seen were from the blood Jared had lost when some animals decided to hurt him.
Jensen took a deep breath.
“Ok… ok. Thank you, Doctor Stendhal. Can you… can you explain to me again about the… the surgery? What risks does it entail?”
Doctor Stendhal watched Jensen with piercing eyes, evaluating the young man’s physical and emotional state before smiling softly and explaining the procedure to him.
As he listened to the surgeon, Jensen noticed that Danneel was pale and sporting a dark frown. Tom and Mike seemed very shocked by the extent of the youngest man’s injuries, but as Jensen paid closer attention, he couldn’t help but think that something was… off about their reactions. While Mike looked like he was going to get sick, Tom looked… torn and scared which completely confused Jensen. And why did Danneel seemed so nervous?
Soon enough, Jensen gave his go-ahead for Jared’s surgery and Doctor Stendhal took off, but not before ordering Jensen to at least rest in the waiting room and eat something.
When he was gone, Danneel grabbed Jensen’s arm.
“Why does the hospital need your authorization to perform surgery on Jared? Why can’t they just do it?”
Jensen frowned as he felt her hand squeeze his arm a little too tightly.
“Because I’m his medical proxy.”
Before he could yank his arm away, Danneel released him like he had burned her. Her eyes were full of betrayal and… hatred, he realized, and for the first time since the beginning of this whole mess, Jensen focused entirely on her.
Keeping his face impassive and mentally praising his skills as an actor, he asked in his most oblivious voice.
“So?”
It was like someone flipped a switch in her, and it truly shook Jensen. Danneel shot forward, her face only a few inches from his, and snarled with impressive fury.
“So? So? I’m not even listed in your emergency contacts and I’m your girlfriend! Why are you his medical proxy? You’re not family, you’re not his girlfriend! Why does it have to be you?”
Jensen violently yanked his arm away and murmured in a cold, hard voice.
“Jared is family to me and I’m family to him. We’re working together, we’re living together. I’m the most obvious choice to make legal decisions if something happens to him, just like I trust him to do right by and for me if I can’t do it for myself. What is your problem?”
Danneel’s face went a deep shade of red, and Jensen’s eyes hardened as he continued.
“We’ve got each other's back and it’s always been like that. Must you really do this? Now? When he’s lying in a hospital bed? Do you realize how petty and self-centered you just sounded?”
“You…” Danneel started but was interrupted by the loud vibration of her phone. As she checked it, her gaze fixed on the caller’s name for a few seconds before she composed herself and looked back at Jensen.
“I’ve got to take this. We’re not done yet.” And with that she strode out of the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria. As Jensen watched her go, something in his belly curled uncomfortably. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt that he was missing something. As possessive and sometimes, he could admit it, bad-tempered as Danneel was, the behavior she just showed, actually the behavior she'd demonstrated since he got called in L.A, was over the top, even for her. And there were something strange with the way she had checked her phone. Almost like she was... expectant.
About what he didn’t know, but it didn’t help the knots inside his stomach.
Needing to take his mind off his girlfriend, Jensen turned around only to find Tom and Mike looking at him with very strange expressions.
“What?” he asked, immediately feeling on edge.
Tom and Mike exchanged another of their special looks and Jensen growled. He opened his mouth to demand them to spill it already when two policemen walked straight up to Jensen.
“Mr. Ackles?”
“Yes?”
“Officers Oliver and Johnson, we were at your house earlier…”
“Yeah. I… I recognize you”
The two men, shorter than Jensen but not by much, were in fact the two officers that had tried to stop him when he sprinted inside the house, needing to see for himself the proof of this nightmare.
“Mr. Ackles, we would like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”
Jensen looked perplexed but nodded.
“OK. Mister Padalecki and yourself are currently living together in the house, correct?” Officer Oliver asked in a professional voice.
“Yes, we are.”
“And the house belongs to Mister Padalecki?”
“Actually, no. Not since January. We had the mortgage split. It’s our house jointly now.”
Behind him, he could sense that the news had startled his friends, but the two officers remained focused.
“Does anyone besides the two of you have keys to your house?”
“What? No! Of course not. And before you ask, we have a rule. We don’t make copies without asking the other first. Jared would have told me if he did.”
Officer Johnson spoke then.
“Mr. Ackles, we were unable to find any trace of someone breaking in. There were no broken windows, no picked locks and no sign of shattered wood. As it is, it seems that whoever attacked your friend are most likely people he knows, people we believe he let in.”
“Wha… N…No… what?…”
“Mr. Ackles…”
“Oh my God… oh my God!”
“Mr. Ackles!”
“Jensen!”
There were no walls holding him prisoner, so why was it so hard to move? There was no bag over his head, so why was it so hard to breath? Jensen felt the world change its coloring and settle into shades of grey, in harmony of the horrifying hollowness he was feeling. Not safe, not safe, not safe… those words were now the only ones he knew, the only ones he could think of.
But as his head was once again forced between his knees, as he started taking deep breaths, something feral and dark, unrefined and vicious, hidden and savage made its way past the pitiful remains of his sanity. And that twisted thing, full of anger and hatred was howling one word, only one but so loudly that the “not safe” mantra was fading away.
Who?
Notsafenotsafenotsafe…
Who?
Not…
WHO!
Suddenly diverse images flashed through his mind with a terrifying clarity. Him reading the weird text message Danneel received at L.A. Tom and Mike’s strange behavior and nervous glances as the doctor filled them on Jared’s state. The front door of their house, wide open, the broken furniture, the blood on the living room floor. The officers telling him Jared had let his attackers in the house, had known them, had trusted them… and finally, Jared’s smile, wide but a little wistful as Jensen departed for Los Angeles what now feels like years ago.
The shrill voice that was tearing his soul apart settled in a disturbing, cajoling whisper.
Who?
Nobody could accuse Jensen Ackles of being a stupid man. Nobody could even call him naïve. Yet, dear God, he really hadn’t seen this coming.
He had lied to himself for so long about his feelings for Jared that he hadn’t realized he wasn't fooling anyone. Or anyone that mattered, anyway.
He vaguely heard Tom thanking the policemen before they left. He was distantly aware of the world that dare to continue existing, when everyone and everything should have been curled on the ground screaming and sobbing like he wanted to do. Minutes passed - maybe one, maybe a thousand. Tom was murmuring things now. He was murmuring the truth, the ugly, vile truth, what Jensen guessed - what he was too scared to say since Tom had called him hours ago.
“I wish I was wrong, Jen, but I know what I saw. I tried to think of a thousand different explanations but nothing else comes to mind. They were here, when I looked at the kitchen window… Christian, Steve and those two guys, their two side-kicks, I forgot their names… they had a bag, I didn’t see what it was but… It was them, Jensen. It was them.”
Of course it was. And yet, the dark and twisted voice wasn’t soothed.
Who!Who!Who!
Jensen didn’t think, he just let that voice, that part of him that wanted to know, to hurt, to blame, take over. It was like he was outside himself, watching himself pick up his cellphone, masking his number before dialing a man he'd been friends with for more than a decade. One, two, three, four, five rings later and Christian Kane’s voice, tense and angry, sounded in Jensen’s ear.
“Damnit, Danneel, stop calling me! Everything will be fine! The little fag won’t breathe a word of any of this, what more do you want? Now leave me alone!”
The dial tone played and the dark voice purred.
Jensen couldn’t cry, so he laughed.
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Jared was alone in what appeared to be a field of paper flowers. All of them were green, a familiar green, but he couldn’t really place it. As he looked around and dubiously patted the floor… grass or whatever the hell he was sit on, he was surprised by how soft the paper flowers were. Almost like cashmere. And this green color was very appealing. He decided to lie down and it felt like he was somehow lying inside himself. He chuckled. What a strange thought to have.
He settled down and watched the purple sky fly over him. The white, creamy clouds had such entertaining forms that he felt like he could stay and watch them for hours. It was a peaceful place, warm and silent. The kind of place you go to escape a nightmare, Jared thought unexpectedly. He frowned and blinked as the clouds frowned back at him.
Okay, weird, but not worth moving from his position. He settled again and smiled pleasantly at the sky, not wanting to upset it more than he already had. As his reward, the paper flowers started to hum and Jared’s smile widened. Everything about this place was so relaxing and he was deep-bone tired… so why wasn’t he asleep already?
He realized he wasn’t smiling anymore at the same time the sorrowful nature of the humming reached his ears. His breath hitched. Whatever the green paper flowers were singing was making him… sad. Crestfallen, even. He needed it to stop. He asked the wind, but the wind just howled at him.
Treacherous tears started to fill his eyes, and in response the white, creamy clouds that weren’t so white anymore rumbled a world of raindrops, all ready to tell a story.
Jared knew that story. He hated that story. He didn’t want to hear it again, but no matter how hard his hands gripped the paper flowers, a single tear traveled down his cheek.
At the same time, a single raindrop was falling down on him, and the unthinkable happened when it touched him.
He woke up to reality.
Never in his life had he felt this level of pain. Everything hurt: his ribs, his head, his arms, his legs, and his back. Inside and outside. He gasped for air but it hurt too much to breath and God, fear was filling every particle of his being until he couldn’t think straight. Foggy flashbacks of what had happened to him made their way through his brain and only helped him to lose focus on his breathing.
Something wet made its way down the side of his neck. Right. How ironic that he couldn’t breathe but could still cry. Some shame managed to pierce through the fear that had him in a tight vice and he tried to raise his left hand to wipe the tears away, but he couldn’t move his arm. His eyes darted toward his casted arm and a noise escaped his mouth without his permission. He still couldn’t breathe.
But he could make some noise.
Jared screamed, then choked as some oxygen finally went where it should go. If the only way to breathe was to scream, then so be it.
A few seconds later, a man and two women barged in his room and Jared forgot everything, even his own name, as fear paralyzed him on the bed. The only thing he didn’t seem to have forgotten was how to scream, and his voice - rough, desperate and so frightened - seemed to be bigger than he was. He thrashed and screamed in agony this time, when someone tried to touch him. Jared could hear voices asking him, pleading with him to calm down, but he couldn’t do that. It was when he started to quiet down that Christian had hit him the hardest.
Suddenly a careful hand placed itself on his forehead, and even in his hysterical state, Jared recognized it immediately. But the warm, loving feeling that usually accompanied that touch was not working right now - oh it stopped the screaming, yes, but now all Jared could do was sob like a lost child.
He wanted to ask Jensen why. Why didn’t Jensen ever tell him how Jared was making him miserable? Why didn’t he tell Jared to back off, why did he have to give their house keys to Christian, of all people? And what did Jared really do to deserve it at all?
He knew it was written all over his face[, and he watched Jensen’s face twist in sorrow and something like self-loathing before the man leaned close and murmured softly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby boy, please….please, you need to calm down, rest, Jay. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise, please rest… just rest.”
Against his better judgment, Jared found himself relaxing and going lax. He watched as the previous man introduced himself as Doctor Stendhal before administrating something inside his IV.
As he drifted into sleep, he felt Jensen’s hand retract and murmured “flower papers” , the green eyes of his best friend holding his before everything went dark.
