J2 Big Bang Fic: Two Cures for Love Part 6

[lizzywinks]

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Jensen doesn't want to open the door, not once he's seen who it is on the other side, but the hammering goes on for so long, and is interspersed with such detailed and drawn out threats of bodily harm, that eventually it's enough to penetrate even the deep dark gloom he's mired in.

Doesn't mean he has to be hospitable though, especially when he knows Chris has only opened a portal outside instead of inside his apartment to piss him off. Jensen flings open the door without greeting, and heads straight back to the living room to curl back up on the couch, blankets wrapped round him like a hobo.

"Here," Chris says, dropping a bulging gray cloth sack onto the floor at Jensen's feet. "This has gone on long enough, and it ends now."

"What is it?" Jensen asks without interest.

This isn't Chris's first visit, and as none of them so far have been particularly pleasant, he's not holding out much hope this one will be going any differently.

Jensen had woken the morning after he'd bonded with Jared, shivering and stiff from his night on the hardwood floor, to find Chris staring down at him, a look of deep dislike on his face. Jensen doesn't remember the resulting conversation in any great detail, he'd still been pretty out of it at the time, but the gist of it was that Jared had sent him back to check Jensen was okay, which Chris had dutifully done, although not with a blanket or a pillow, fuck you very much, and that he had Jared to thank for the fact that he still had all his internal organs in place.

Jensen had spent the next three days alternating between sleeping and throwing up, before Chris had appeared again, a long, thin bottle in his hand filled with a liquid that shone silvery white through the fragile glass. Jensen had tried to refuse it, but Chris had grabbed him by his hair, jerked his head back and pinched his nose until his only real alternatives were asphyxiation or swallowing, and in a moment of insanity, he'd chosen swallowing.

Jensen still doesn't know what was in the potion, but he'd started to feel better pretty much as soon as it hit his stomach. At first, he'd wondered if it was something to break the bond he and Jared shared, but he quickly discounted the idea; Jared was still present, a distant and muddy awareness in the back of his head, as if the bond was stretched almost to breaking point, or Jared himself was purposely blocking him out.

It didn't matter. Once the sickness had passed and Jensen could think clearly again he knew that what he felt for Jared had nothing to do with the bond, that it would exist even without it, although right now he was pathetically grateful for the connection because it was the only one he had, thanks to Chris, the utter bastard, who had refused point blank on all his subsequent visits to give him even a hint on how Jared was doing or pass any of his messages on.

"It's his letters to you," Jensen tunes back in to the conversation to hear Chris say, "every picture, every seashell and freaking wild flower the stupid sap saved for you."

Jensen glances quickly up, hope stuttering in his chest. "He sent me a letter?" he glances back down at the huge sack, perplexed.

"No, you idiot," Chris snaps. "It's the letters, the ones Jared wasted half his life writing to you."

Jensen views the bag with fresh eyes, it really is huge, easily big enough to hold the over twenty years worth of letters Jared had claimed he sent. He reaches a hesitant hand out toward it, and then pulls it back not ready to find out yet why Chris has brought them to him. Were they Jared's way of saying goodbye?

"How did you find them? Where have they even been?" he asks to distract himself from his grim thoughts.

"The Queen―" Chris shakes his head, clearly uncomfortable. "You have to understand, his family never believed for a second that anything would come of it, but they still thought it was best if Jared's... obsession with you wasn't encouraged. They hoped that if he didn't ever hear from you, he'd start to forget you. Didn't make a lick of difference. He wrote those damn letters every week, handed them all over completely certain each time the portals lined up that this one would be the one you'd reply to." Chris sighs and drags his hand through his hair. "Read them, Jensen. Read them and then tell me that he doesn't love you."

"It's not about that," Jensen says dully, because it's painfully clear now that there's no secret message to decipher here; Jared didn't ask Chris to bring him the letters. He probably still thinks Jensen had them all along and just ignored them while he was busy convincing himself he wasn't crazy. "I know he loves me, but he doesn't think I love him."

"What?" Chris says angrily. "That's what this is about? Are you kidding me? Jared can be stupidly noble on occasion, but that kid is crazy for you. He'd take whatever crumbs you throw at him and act like it's a banquet! I don't get it, man, where is this even coming from?"

Jensen drops his gaze, embarrassed. "Something went wrong when we bonded and I messed up; he thinks I blame him for making me his mate, for, um, bonding with me."

"Bonding? You mean you two hadn't... So that morning, you were, oh, gross," Chris grimaces at Jensen's awkward nod. "I cannot believe what a complete fuckwit you really are. What did you think was happening? All those years spent faithful to a mate you didn't even know you had? As faithful as a fickle human could hope to be anyway with the whole women instead of men thing," he adds with begrudging generosity when Jensen opens his mouth to protest. "And even without that big fucking clue, Jared straight up told you he was here to court you, I mean, that's what he did, right? Sequestered you away from your family and friends, protected you, provided for you, plied you with tokens of his affections?"

Jensen hesitates, about to say no, except was that what Jared had been doing? It suddenly all falls into place; Jared's reluctance for Jensen to leave the apartment or to meet up with Misha, the cooking duties he'd happily taken on, the endless little cakes and sweet treats that kept appearing―although that one was probably more for Jared's benefit than Jensen's―the art installations encroaching on every spare inch of space, and the threatened destruction of Pauly and Sid. It would actually be pretty damn adorable if he hadn't cast Jensen so firmly in the heroine's role in the romance movie he was playing the lead in.

Of course, it would have been helpful if someone had bothered to explain to the dumb human what exactly a dragon courtship was the precursor to.

"Is Jared okay?" he finally asks, hopeful now that Chris knows just how badly he's fucked up that he'll take pity on him and answer.

"No, he looks like he's spent a week too long in his shell. Almost as bad as you, in fact."

Jensen nods, and his eye is caught again by the sack at his feet. He throws the blanket off his shoulders, and reaches out to paw through the letters. Some of them are open, torn roughly or neatly with a paper knife (or a razor sharp claw, his mind helpfully supplies) but as he searches through the pile, most of them seem to be completely untouched. Perhaps his mother had been protecting his privacy, or perhaps she'd just grown bored with his outpourings.

He doesn't mean to read them, not when he still doesn't have a plan or while Chris is lurking, watching him through a critical, narrow-eyed stare, but he glances at one that's lying half open, and he's lost.

The earliest, oldest envelopes are faded and crumpled, childish handwriting in bright colours, uneven spacing and sizing. Inside the paper is a little brighter, protected from the years by the envelope, but the lettering on the page is no tidier. They're joyous, chatty letters, filled with affection and questions about what Jensen is doing without him.

Over time the questions changed, became less direct, as if Jared had given up on ever receiving a reply. Instead of asking why Jensen hadn't written back, he said he hoped he was well, that he liked his teachers, that he had a brother who was more fun than Jared's own.

As the letters became neater, the tone changed, equally open, but more now about sharing his life with Jensen. There was surprising maturity in his words, discussions about how they would merge their lives, fights with his parents, and, as he aged, the changes he fought for so they could be recognized as a couple in his world.

Through it all, the hardship and the loneliness and the silence, what stood out the clearest was that Jared had never given up on Jensen. Not once.

Jensen had thought he'd had it hard growing up, suspicion and watchfulness from his parents, doubting himself, doubting his sanity, but he'd never had to face what Jared had. Jared had been loyal to the end, faithful and unswerving in his devotion.

And when the day he'd dreamed of his whole life had finally come, he'd been met with Jensen's rejection, his refusal to accept his love and the barriers he'd placed in their way. Even when Jensen had given in, it had been hard fought, with him controlling the pace, refusing to commit, and guarding his emotions so that if it didn't work, they could both walk away mostly unscathed.

But Jared had never had that option, for him, it had been for life, for better for worse, and all Jensen had been interested in was the better.

And, after all that, the final sacrifice had still been Jared's; releasing Jensen because he truly believed it was what he wanted, and even then sending Chris to him to ensure he was cared for.

It's heartbreaking, humbling, and Jensen is ashamed of himself for spending so long indulging in self pity. It was time he put his own heart on the line, time for him to be the one taking some risks.

Jensen glances up at Chris, lost in his own head for so long he's vaguely surprised to find the other man still waiting, mostly patiently, for him.

"Do you know where he is?" he asks, heart in his mouth. "Can I go to him?"

Chris shakes his head regretfully. "Not something I can arrange, Jensen. Up to now it's been a strictly one way street for interaction with humans. Jared had been working on it, but without him on board..."

Jensen nods. He'd half expected that, and maybe it's for the best. Everything had been too easy for him so far, Jared needed to see that he was with him on this, that he wasn't with him because of a bite and the sharing of some bodily fluids; that their bond meant the same to him as it did to Jared.

"Okay, can you get a message to him then?"

"Sure, but, you better have something pretty damn convincing to pull out of the bag," he warns.

Jensen sucks in a deep breath, mind already racing ahead. "I do, I mean, I think I do, but it's gonna take a little time."

Chris stiffens. "How much time, because I think that boy's waited long enough-"

"No, I know," Jensen hurries to reassure. "This isn't just another excuse to get him to come to me. Seriously, Chris, you can trust me. This time."

Chris watches him, eyes narrowed, and then sighs. "Okay, you've got two days; you get it done then, or you leave him to get over you."

Jensen nods quickly. "Done," he hurriedly agrees. Two days is pushing it, but he isn't about to try and renegotiate. In any case, two days is already three weeks and two days too long as far as Jensen is concerned to have his mate back in his bed.



Jensen is sitting at his work table, the huge box beside him filled to bursting point. He has the last envelope in his hand, when the air shimmers and shifts in front of him and Chris steps into the room.

"To the minute," Jensen croaks out. He runs his dry tongue along the gummed edge of the envelope, desperately hoping to coax enough moisture out to seal it.

Chris takes pity on him and pulls the envelope out of his hands, pausing to consider the large size and bright metallic sheen before he licks it and presses it closed.

"What is this?" he asks, curiously. "Your Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor?

"Oh, screw you," Jensen mutters through dry lips.

"Always the fickle human," Chris says fondly, and hands him the open soda can from his desk. The liquid inside is warm and flat, but Jensen savors it like it's ice cold vintage champagne.

"What the hell have you been doing to yourself?" Chris asks, taking in Jensen's pale features and heavy shadows under his eyes. "Have you even slept since I saw you?"

"Couple of hours, maybe, here at my desk," Jensen says and Chris frowns and sniffs the air around him.

"I guess you didn't have time to fit in a shower, either?" he asks, nose wrinkled.

"No, and before you ask, yes, I did manage to make it to the bathroom when nature called."

"Think this is going to do it?" Chris asks, eyeing the box, any trace of levity vanishing abruptly.

"I-I don't know," Jensen answers shakily, letting the fear creep in for the first time since he came up with the plan. "I hope so. I don't know what else-" he cuts himself off before he makes an even bigger fool of himself, because he doubts Chris will have much patience if Jensen starts sobbing on his shoulder.

"How is he?" he asks before he can stop himself. "Have you spoken to him? Has he...mentioned me?"

"No," Chris says heavily. "His parents are refusing all visitors for him, and for once in his life, Jared isn't arguing." He pauses, conflicted, and then shrugs. "I think they're trying to push him to reconsider their original plans for him."

"The church?" Jensen demands. "He wouldn't, Jared wouldn't agree to it, would he? He told me he thought the destiny thing was stupid-"

"I don't know. You ask me the same question six months ago and I'd have laughed in your face, but now. I honestly don't know."

Jensen feels dread pool in his stomach, because he knows that if Jared makes that commitment, there's no way his parents will let him walk away from it. Not without giving up his place in their life altogether, and is Jensen worth losing everything for?

"How are you going to be able to get this to him?" he asks in an attempt to distract himself, because losing Jared now is so not an option. The box is huge, and Jared needs to see all of the contents, not just a few bits and pieces that could be snuck in with a food tray.

"Don't worry about that," Chris says with breezy confidence. "I have my ways."

Jensen sucks in a trembling breath, and looks down at the piles of mismatched, often oddly shaped envelopes. This is it, he's gambling everything on this working, and if it doesn't...

"Tell him to read this one last," Jensen says, and holds up the final gold envelope that Chris had sealed.

"You're expecting him to read all these?" Chris says, eyes wide.

"I'm hoping," Jensen says, and pushes his thumbs into his eye sockets in an attempt to hold back the pounding starting up in his head. "I'm really hoping."

~*~

Jensen is on tenterhooks for rest of the day, afraid to risk showering or sleeping in case Jared arrives. He's bared his heart and soul in the letters. Jared surely can't just ignore that, even if all he's going to do is let Jensen down gently in person.

Jared doesn't come.

Soft dusk shades his apartment, followed by dark night. Jensen sits and eventually slumps to one side, misery a hard ball in his stomach as he drifts into a restless sleep.

When he wakes the next morning, he wanders through his entire apartment, finishing up in Jared's old room and feeling foolish. There's no sign of him. His art pieces are still scattered around the apartment, gathering dust, and the almost empty sugar bowl still sits on the kitchen table. Jensen picks up a sugar cube, crunches on it dully, and welcomes the ache the pure sugar leaves in his teeth.

Later, Jensen stands under the shower, letting the scalding heat turn his skin lobster red, and wash away the grime and sweat that feels like it's coating his entire body. It does nothing to melt the ball of ice sitting cold and painful in his stomach, and the terrifyingly fast disappearing hum of connection in the back of his brain.



It's another three days before he finally accepts that Jared isn't coming. He's played his final card, and in the end it hadn't been enough.

The fact that he's brought it on himself doesn't make him feel even slightly better. He wonders vaguely if Jared will send a message via Chris, or whether he'll decide it better to keep the break clean. No contact, no chance for Jensen to beg for forgiveness.

He's sitting in his studio, staring blankly at an empty canvas, when there's a pounding at his door. He considers ignoring it because Chris is seriously pissing him off now, but the hammering continues, loud and unbroken.

Ridiculous hope starts to build when none of Chris's usual threats come from beyond the thick wood of the door, and Jensen lurches to his feet, heart pounding unsteadily in time with the hammering noise.

It's the worst time ever to forget about his booby-trapped apartment, and Jensen is genuinely shocked when he slams his toe into a huge glass block. He's hopping madly around, cursing violently in an attempt to ease the pain, when he slips on a crumpled pile of bubble wrap and crashes to the ground

He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, head bent so he can hurriedly examine his toe, his very possibly broken toe, when the front door opens, and Jared is standing there.

Jensen stares up at him, sweat beading on his hairline, and mouth hanging stupidly open.

"Hey, Jen," Jared says. He sounds uncertain. Of course he's uncertain, he's been gone for a month, and when he finally comes home to his mate, it's to find Jensen sitting on their floor like an idiot. Jared probably thinks he hadn't opened the door when he knocked because he didn't want to see him. That thought has Jensen scrambling to his feet, ignoring the pain and limping, hopefully in a very manly fashion, over toward Jared.

As soon as he's close enough, he reaches out to pull Jared away from the still open door, and firmly closes and locks it behind.

They stand in the hallway, too close and staring silently at each other until Jared sucks in a deep breath that seems to set them both free.

"You came-"

"Can I come in-?"

Jared pauses awkwardly, and Jensen takes the opportunity to grab hold of Jared's hand and pull him forward. But Jared is resisting, and Jensen whirls back round toward him, momentary panic giving way to relief when he sees that Jared is just bending down to retrieve something from the floor.

He looks again, and recognises the box he'd given to Chris. All the envelopes visible have been opened, and are now stacked neatly into bundles tied with ribbon. They seem to be in some sort of order, Jensen isn't quite sure what, but Jared's treasure organisational skills had been thorough, and very detailed, so he knows there'll be some complex and possibly equally unfathomable reasoning behind his sorting here.

"So, I can come in?" Jared asks, when the silence grows.

"God, yes!" Jensen says, and tugs on Jared's hand to guide him into the apartment.

When Jared resists for a second time, Jensen tugs a little harder, fully prepared to all out wrestle Jared into his home, their home if need be. And then keep him there, by fair means or foul. He thinks he remembers seeing some chains in one of Jared's pieces, and he will tear down that sucker in a heartbeat to get at them if it looks like they might be needed.

Despite his resolve, Jared is ridiculously strong, and Jensen's tugging doesn't seem to be having much affect. He blames his weakness on the fact he hasn't been eating much recently. In fact, he realizes, he feels a little weak at the knees. He's not sure if it's from hunger, or just from the wild relief strumming through him at the sight of his mate.

"Let me just get my box, Jen," Jared says, a hesitant smile on his mouth, and Jensen reaches out to grab it, embarrassed.

"Oh, sure, sure! Sorry," he adds, and kicks the box across the floor with his foot. It makes the pain in his toe ache all the more, but he's not quite ready to actually risk letting Jared go yet, and it'll take two hands to lift the box.

They make shuffling, stumbling progress to the living room, where Jensen immediately pushes Jared down onto the couch and joins him there, foot tapping out an impatient rhythm when he realizes he's all out of reasons to be hanging on to Jared.

He ignores the fact, and reaches out to pat at Jared's chest under the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt.

"You look good," he says, pulling his hand slowly away to leave it resting on Jared's knee.

"Thanks," Jared says, eyes roving over Jensen hungrily. "So do you."

"I look like crap," Jensen says, running an awkward hand through his hair. It's true, he does; he can't remember the last time he showered, and the only reason he knows he's eaten at all over the last few days is because of the food stains on his shirt. And pants. And probably in his beard, which he also hasn't shaved. "I missed you," Jensen says.

Jared takes in a stuttering breath. "I missed you, too."

"I want you to come home," Jensen rushes into speech the second Jared gets the words out. Jared's muscles seem to lose all their tension at once, and he grins, smile wide and relieved.

In his chest, Jensen feels a deep unfurling warmth, and the hum of awareness at the back of his head breaks open, joy and happiness leaving him dizzy.

Jensen can't resist, and he leans in with a silent apology for whatever food stuff is lingering in his scruff of a beard to kiss Jared. Jared, thankfully, doesn't seem to mind, and kisses him back just as hungrily.

"I hoped that that was what the letters meant," Jared breaks away to pant. "But I didn't want to get my hopes up-"

"You can get anything you want up," Jensen says, and leans in to nip sharply at the edge of Jared's jaw. "In fact, I may have to insist on it."

"I saved it," Jared says, and Jensen pulls back to look at him. "The letter," he explains, and reaches into the top of the box to pull out the gold envelope.

"You didn't open it?"

"Not yet, I thought, hoped, we could open it together?"

Jensen nods, hands reaching out to trace the muscles in Jared's thigh.

"It's not dirty, is it?" Jared adds, mock reluctant, "because some of those others..."

"Hey!" Jensen slaps his exploring hand down on Jared's leg with a sharp rebuke. "Those were erotic art!"

"They were cartoons. Mostly cartoons of you jacking off."

Jensen grins. "Actually, they were more than that," he says, and pulls the box toward him. "I'm guessing there's some sort of order to this?" he asks, and grins when Jared begins sorting quickly through the bound envelopes, dropping a pile tied up with a red bow on to Jensen's lap. Jensen quickly pulls the contents out of the envelope, snorting when Jared reaches over to smooth out rough edges and line up the tops of the empty envelopes against each other.

When he has them all set out in date order, Jensen folds them in half and then flicks through them, laughing as Jared lets out a shocked gasp.

"Oh, my god, Jen, you're-"

"Live action animation, baby," Jensen agrees. "I figured, by this date, I'd be about fifteen, and maybe my hormones weren't quite doing what they should be back then, I'm guessing because I was half mated to you at the time, but if I'd had any idea of how hot the little green lizard who tried to set me on fire would turn out to be? You'd have totally have had a staring role in all my fantasies."

"I can't believe that you did this," Jared says softly, staring down at the hundreds of letters Jensen had written and mostly, if he's honest, drawn. One a week, just like Jared, for every year they'd been apart. "I love that you did this, Jen."

Jensen shrugs, awkwardly. "I figured it was my turn to show you how much you meant to me. I couldn't write back to you then, because, well, I thought I was crazy and I didn't actually get any of the ones you sent me-" He freezes, terrified he's just blurted out the fact that Jared's mother had lied to him for years, but the soft little throb of sorrowful acceptance he gets from Jared tells him he already knows.

"How did you find out?" he asks quietly, and Jared shrugs.

"I always suspected, but I knew as soon I asked you about them that you would never have have ignored them. It just took me a while to accept that she could do that."

"I'm sorry," Jensen says, thumb rubbing soothingly at the back of Jared's hand.

Jared shrugs again. "She loves me, my whole family loves me. They'll come round once they meet you."

Jensen snorts. "Something for us both to look forward to; meeting the folks. Just lets not do it any time soon, okay? I don't want my parents calling the fire department on you, and I really kind of like my head right where it is."

Jared grins, and drops a smacking kiss on Jensen's lips, and then ducks around to bite hard on the lobe of his ear. "Me too," he says when Jensen lets out a muffled little moan. He reaches down while Jensen is distracted busily chasing Jared's lips to pluck the envelope from between them and waggle it in front of Jensen's face, blocking his attempts to reach him.

"So, the final letter," he teases when Jensen lets out another, louder moan of protest. "I'm assuming now based on the progression of your other 'art'," he mimes quotation marks, "this is going to be off the charts pornographic?"

"I keep telling you, it's erotic art, you heathen!"

Jared snorts, but he's careful and precise as he opens the envelope and pulls out the card with great care. The amused grin on his face fades as he stares down at the painting in his hand. Jensen holds his breath while he waits for him to speak.

"Jen, this is-" Jared trails off and raises shining eyes to meet Jensen's. "This is beautiful," he breathes, and stares back down at picture. "How did you know?"

Jensen glances at the painting, soft watercolour depicting Jared's home, the alien landscape so foreign to Jensen, but beautiful all the same. Pale amethyst tinted hills, and crystal lakes of deep peridot green sparkling in the brightness of cloudless skies and twin suns. In the foreground a small family play on lush flower dusted grass, a tiny dragon with his long, green tail wrapped around the neck of his human brother, while their parents watch on proudly.

"The bond, I think it was too much for me at first," Jensen begins and pauses to kiss away Jared's guilty frown. "Maybe because I was human," he continues, "or maybe because it was so intense, but after that passed, I started to feel things, see things and I knew this place was important to you."

Jared nods jerkily. "These were Queen Cwenhild's lands, my great-grandmother. My great-grandfather gifted them to her and they made their home there. They were bequeathed to me when I came of age. I dreamed of us here, Jen, just like this. Is that, is that how you see us, too?"

Jensen grins, the happiness inside of him growing and multiplying with Jared's. "Well, I'm a little concerned where the baby dragon, and baby human for that matter, come from, because I'm pretty sure I'm not equipped for either of those scenarios, but, yeah." He leans forward and captures Jared's lips with his own. "You can sign me up for everything else."

Jared laughs, drags Jensen up into a bone-crushing hug, but not, Jensen notices, until he's placed the picture safely down on the coffee table in front of them.

"Thank you," Jared says when he pulls away, glance darting back to the painting. "I'll treasure it." He glances at the box and back over at Jensen, joy shining from him. "I'll treasure them all."

"Typical dragon," Jensen sighs, pulling Jared up to his feet.

"Bonded to a human, and living in an apartment in the middle of New York? Not really all that typical, Jensen."

"My dragon?" Jensen tries, and Jared growls, breath hot against Jensen's ear.

"Your dragon," Jared agrees.

Jensen grins. He's got absolutely no objections to that.



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