FIC: "A Million Points Of Light" 1/1
Title: " A Million Points Of Light" 1/1
Pairing: Jared / Jensen
Author:
caramel_maddy @
maddys_slash
Word Count: 4,668
Summary: A million points of light are ascending toward the sky. I'll always see you.
Warning / Rating: Deals with schizophrenia and other mental health issues. Strong R
Disclaimer: Not true, All fiction. I swear it on all the Piccadilly rent boys
A/N: The story is inspired by VNV Nation's - Carbon ,which to me is a song about humans destroying the earth, but also made me think of how a person would feel knowing that their lover is suicidal. This is NOT death fic!
A Million Points Of Light
I will go wherever you go. . .
That was a promise, one of a million made on a night where the sky stayed blue and never turned black. It was raining and to Jared the earth smelled a little cleaner, crisper like all that was dirty was becoming clean again being reborn into the night. He remembers that evening, everything about it from the clothes that he wore to the way Jensen’s hair had too much product in it making it lay unnaturally flat against his head. It was warm out, the kind of warm that only Californian spring evenings can bring, where winter is gone and you can practically taste summer on your tongue if the wind blows just right.
“Aurora borealis,” Jensen had said staring up into the stars, “that’s what they call northern lights.”
“How do you know that?” Jared asked keeping step, the clip-clap of his dress shoes sounding almost like laughter against the slick pavement.
“Because I do. It’s just one of those things I remember from high school.”
“And you say I’m the random one.” Jared smirked at him. Jensen didn’t smile back. He just stared up into the sky, something dark clouding over in his eyes. It was like his head was a million miles away. “Hey,” Jared grinned pushing his shoulder into him, “what’s wrong?”
“You ever wonder. . .wonder what happens when you die?”
“What?” Jared laughed. “Okay, Mr. Morbid.”
Jensen didn’t crack a smile. He kept his eyes up looking out into some far off place where Jared couldn‘t quite reach. “I read this book once, where this little girl was dying of cancer and she was afraid of death -naturally, so every night she’d ask her mother what would happen to her after she’d die. She’d ask if Heaven were real and if she’d get there and if she‘d become an angel.” Jensen paused, clearing his throat before continuing in a softer, more hushed tone. “Her mother told her that when someone dies, before they go to Heaven, they become light first. Some people become stars, others rays from the sun or rainbows in the sky, and this was called a before-Heaven until the real Heaven was actually ready for you. Once it was, you would turn into auroras so when we see northern lights, we‘re actually seeing souls going to Heaven.”
“Sounds like an interesting book.”
“Yeah, it was. Made me want to see it.”
“Heaven?” Jared joked eliciting a soft smile from Jensen.
He didn’t respond.
“I saw them once -those lights. I was like eleven and my brother told me that aliens were taking over. Scared the shit outta me, but once my mom convinced me to stop hiding in the basement and to come out and see them, it was just a beautiful sight. All the colors, the mist. It was like something outta movie.”
Jensen was quiet, the soft smile still on his face as he hooked his arm through Jared’s.
“Would you be pissed if we just went back home?”
“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Jared asked eyes full, wide, blinking with concern.
“I’m just. . . I don’t know. Not really up for hanging out with a million people tonight. Kinda just wanna lay on the couch with a beer.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that an hour ago before we put on these monkey suits?” Jared teased wrapping his arm around Jensen’s waist pulling him closer walking instep with him.
“I’m sorry. It was just I knew you wanted to-”
“Hey,” Jared whispered. “I’m just kidding. What’s wrong Jensen? Come on, something’s off tonight, I can feel it.”
Jensen looked at Jared and smiled sadly.
“You’re the most important person in my life right now. I just need you to know that.”
Jared paused mid-step withdrawing his arm from around Jensen’s waist, the loss of contact making him feel cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just want you to know that. I want you to always know that.”
“Dude, what the hell is up with you?”
Jensen looked away and didn’t speak, not at first. He coughed, cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then coughed again. In the smallest of voices he said, “I’m sick.”
* * *
Jensen goes on meds on a Thursday. The doctors say they are supposed to stabilize his moods, keep the highs and lows balanced to where the lows don't get so bad he wants to kill himself. Depixol makes him nauseous, but it's just as well because Thorazine and Promazine makes him lose his appetite, so he mostly just dry heaves and spits up orange juice.
Jared tries to understand what it all means because even after Jensen spends the entire weekend trying to explain it, Jared just never fully gets it. He drives to Borders and buys books on schizophrenia because he doesn’t trust the things that he reads online. He calls up is uncle Nelson down in Florida. Nelson’s a physician and he tells Jared things he doesn’t want to know. Tells Jared in point-blank matter-of-fucking-fact that his boyfriend is mentally ill. That his boyfriend will probably try to kill himself at least twice if he’s not successful the first time and that there is no definitive cure, he can only be treated, never healed. Eventually, one day his medication will more than likely stop working. Then Uncle Nelson asks Jared if he’s ready to make that kind of commitment, ready to spend the rest of his life taking care of a that kind of person, having to play doctor, friend, enemy, lover and savior. Before Jared can even think the question all the way through, he hears Jensen in the bathroom gagging into the toilet and he hangs up the phone.
“I’m here,” he says after a moment stroking his heavy palm down Jensen’s back. “I’m here.”
* * *
Jared rents a home in Colorado for a few weeks in November. It’s a small cabin with two bedrooms, cable television and a gas stove that can only stay hot long enough to cook a ten-minute breakfast on. He tells Jensen that he wants to see snow, but really, Jared just wants to get away from everyone. He’s grown sick of the random visits from friends, the parents calling at all hours of the day just to check up on things. Jensen’s doing fine, just fine because Jared’s taking care of him. Jared’s taking care of everything.
“How’s my hair look?” Jensen asks staring in the mirror. He’s not sure how he feels about the haircut the girl in town gave him. It’s a little too short on the sides and too long on the top. He thinks it’s a borderline mullet, but he’s not sure if it’s just in his head or not, but it‘s too long on top. Too long.
“Looks good,” Jared smiles scrambling three eggs into a black skillet. “Wanna go to a movie?”
“Depends. What’cha wanna see?” Jensen’s not really paying attention to what Jared’s talking about, his eyes keep focusing in the mirror, staring at his hair. It’s awful. Just awful.
“We could see that Will Ferrell movie.”
“But he’s not even funny,” Jensen replies quickly, each word seemingly tumbling from his mouth one after the other. “He’s annoying and overrated. I think he’s boring.”
“No, he’s not,” Jared laughs. “He’s hilarious.”
“How’s my hair? Seriously. It doesn’t look weird to you?”
“No, it looks fine-”
“Why are you lying to me for?” Jensen interjects.
“I’m not. You look-”
“I’m going out for a walk.”
“What? It’s like thirty degrees out.”
“I don’t care,” Jensen grunts opening the door. “I need air. Can’t breathe in here.”
“Wait a minute,” Jared turns the stove off, wipes his hands down the front of his shirt. “Let me get a coat. I’ll come with you.”
“I don’t need you to come with me. I’m thirty-one years old, I don’t need you to baby-sit me!”
There’s a wild look to Jensen’s eyes, almost crazed. His pupils are dilated and he’s sweating far more than he should be.
Jared’s heart sinks down into his stomach. It almost hurts to talk.
“Did you take your meds today?”
“I’m out,” Jensen laughs in a singsong voice. “Been out for four days now. Don’t need em, don’t need em! ”
* * *
“Please get up,” Jared whispers placing his hand on Jensen’s back. Jensen doesn’t stir. “You’ve been in bed for two days. You gotta eat something.” Still, no response. Jared grows impatient, shakes Jensen with a little more force than necessary. “Get up, dude, come on!” He pleads.
Jensen curls up into a ball burying his head in his hands.
“Why are you here,” he sobs into his palms. “You hate me don’t you? Why?”
Something inside of Jared breaks, but he won’t allow himself to cry, no, not right now.
“I made dinner. Your favorite.”
“You don’t know my favorite,” Jensen cries. “YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAVORITE!” He screams curling his body into a tighter ball.
To Jared, Jensen looks frail, weak and almost childlike.
For the first time in months, he’s afraid that he doesn’t know what to do.
* * *
In December they fly home to Texas. They’ve done this for years; Christmas Eve spent with Jared’s family, Christmas Day spent with Jensen’s. This is the way they’ve done it for two years so this year on the third, when Jensen decides that he wants to spend Christmas Eve with his parents, Jared doesn’t argue. He smiles and complies, just happy to make Jensen happy.
“How is he doing?” Jensen’s mother asks as soon as she gets a moment alone with Jared. Donna is a small, tender kind of lady with a bright smile and warm, bluish-brown eyes.
“Honestly. . .” Jared pauses wonders if he should tell the truth. Wonders if he should tell her about the night terrors and the fits of crying. He flirts with telling her about the agoraphobia and how he had to practically sedate her youngest son just to get him on the plane.
He thinks maybe it would be wise to tell her what the doctors said, tell her that they’ve yet to find the right combination of meds to work for more than a few weeks. It’s just that it’s Christmas Eve. . .it’s Christmas Eve.
“Good Mama Ackles, he’s doing good.”
* * *
They move their bodies slow, Jared being careful, tender, downright gentle as he enters Jensen for the first time in what feels like years. It’s actually been six months since they’ve shared intimate contact, not even kissing. The cocktail of pills that Jensen has to take everyday leaves him too tired to do most of anything besides sleep.
“I love you,” he grunts into the pillow arching his back as Jared pushes all the way in.
“I-” Jared grits his teeth. The feeling of Jensen’s body is so right , so new again and he loses control. He’s like a fumbling teenager spilling his seed with a shake of the hips barely ten seconds in.
* * *
Jared gets offered to do a movie. He hasn’t done one in a year, not since Jensen started getting sick and he’s tempted to take it. It films on location in Louisiana. It’s a buddy-cop film and they want Jared to play the bumbling partner to a smooth talking, ladies man. He finds it hilarious that Will Ferrell is already attached to the film and for a few weeks he considers taking it. It only shoots for a month and Jared’s been itching to get back in the business. He’s only done a handful of television appearances since Supernatural ended and most of those roles have been forgettable.
He decides not to take it. He knows Jensen barely likes to leave the house and he can’t imagine him being ready to move down to the Bayou for thirty-four days. Even if he would, who would keep him company? Make sure he took his pills three times a day because sometimes Jensen forgets and only takes them in the mornings. If Jared took the job, he’d be too busy filming to make sure of these things.
“What’s this?” Jensen says coming in from the backyard. His clothes are covered in mud, his face caked with dirt. He’s taken up gardening over the last two months, says it relaxes him and he’s gotten quite good at it, planted rosebushes all over the backyard.
Jared takes a look at the crumpled script in his hand and snatches it away.
“Nothing. Just a movie I was offered-”
“Take it,” Jensen says firmly snatching it back.
“I’m not interested in it.”
“You’re a bad liar. This is a Farrelly Brother’s film -you love the Farrelly brothers and you love Will Ferrell. I know you want this -this part is so you!”
“You read it?” Jared exhales. He knows the part is tailor-made for him.
“Jare,” Jensen sighs placing the script down on the kitchen table. “You should work. Just because I’m not doesn’t mean you shouldn’t -this is a golden opportunity. I want you to take it.”
“I can’t just leave you here.”
“You’re not leaving me. You’re going to work.”
* * *
Jared decides that he loves Louisiana about an hour after he steps foot off of the plane. Danneel’s from here, wrote out a list of places she said he has to visit. At the top of his list is Madam Laveau's Voodoo Shop just out of curiosity to see if it’s as eerie as Danny makes it out to be.
The mood on the set is fun, easy. Jared knows that spending four years on a television show where the cast and crew began to feel like family was a luxury that he’ll probably never experience again, but he’s not expecting anything more than civility anyway. When shooting wraps on the first night they all go out drinking. Will Ferrell is surprisingly a lightweight, can only down three shots before he calls it quits for the night. Jared stays out drinking with Christina Applegate until some time after three. She drinks him under the table. She tells him about her divorce, he tells her as much about his life as he can without giving away too much. He talks about his boyfriend, but never says his name, he talks about how he hated leaving him, but doesn’t elaborate as to why. They form an instant connection and he can already smell a friendship forming.
He stumbles into his hotel around 3:15, drunk dials Jensen, but Jensen doesn’t pick up. It’s midnight in L.A. and Jared surmises that Jensen’s probably sleeping.
* * *
“You taking your meds, right?”
“Yes sir, three times a day like clockwork and yes, before you ask, Danneel’s here right now. She slept over -did you ask her to do that?” Jensen asks, his voice dragged and not at all amused. He hates it, hates how in the span of a year he’s gone from being totally self-sufficient to everyone thinking that he needs a caretaker twenty-four hours a day.
“I just asked her to come in every now and then to check up on things-”
“I told you, I don’t need a babysitter Jared. I really hate how you don’t listen to me.” Jensen sighs. “I gotta go.”
“We haven’t spoken in two days and you-”
Jensen hangs up the phone and Jared sits in his trailer, mouth hanging open. He’s frustrated and annoyed and confused.
* * *
Jared calls Jensen every night. As soon as Peter and Bobby call it a wrap, Jared’s on his cell phone dialing up any random set of three numbers. First he calls their main phone line, then if Jensen doesn’t pick up that he tries their bedroom line. Calling Jensen’s cell is always the last resort and on a night when Jensen doesn’t pick up any of the three, Jared gets worried. He calls up Danneel. It’s a Monday and it’s some time after two in the morning and she doesn’t answer. Jared leaves her a calm message, asks her to call him back as soon as she gets it.
Danneel calls him back at seven the next night, apologizes for taking so long, but her battery had died. Jared asks her the standard questions: How’s Jensen? Is he taking his meds on time? Did he try to hurt himself again? Is he sleeping alright? Danneel tells Jared that he’s fine, doing surprisingly well and that she’s stunned because she thought for sure Jensen wouldn’t be able to function on his own for a day let alone two weeks.
Jared wonders if maybe he’s been pulling the reins a little too tight. Maybe Jensen’s not as sick as Jared thinks.
* * *
He flies back home to California on the third weekend of the month. He doesn’t tell Jensen, wants to surprise him and stops at the corner store two blocks away from their house just to pick up Jensen’s favorite brand of coffee.
When Jared walks into the house, he’s the one surprised by what he sees. Everything is messy -not sloppy and slightly disorganized, but disastrous. The living room is littered with junk, piles and piles of old pizza boxes and cartons full of half-eaten take out rot on the tables. There’s some sort of red and blue stains on the walls, almost like spilled ink. There’s a crack in one of the windows and if Jared didn’t know any better, he’d think that someone must have broken in.
“Jensen,” he yells. No response. “Jensen, where are you?”
Jared makes his way around the house, sees the mess in the kitchen that rivals the one in the living room. It’s a pigsty, there are little black bugs that Jared doesn’t know the name of crawling across the filth on the counters and floors. It smells like pure hell and he has to hold his hand over his nose so he doesn’t vomit.
His pulse races and his heart pounds in his chest as he searches the first floor for Jensen. Something is wrong, Jared knows this, Jared can feel this. Where is Jensen? Where is he?
Jared can’t breathe by the time he finds him. Jensen’s curled up in bed staring at the television. The bedroom is surprisingly clean, pristine even and this troubles Jared so much that he can feel his stomach twisting. He barely makes it to the bathroom hurling up airplane food into the sink.
When he comes back into the bedroom, Jensen barely acknowledges him. Sure, he says ‘hi’, but his tone is flat, monotone.
He’s watching a news program. Jared walks out of the room. He needs to clean the house.
* * *
“You have to finish it!”
“No I don’t! Fuck it, YOU come first Jensen!”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“I know you’re not -look at the house! It took me all day just to clean it.”
“So it was a little messy, I promise you I’m fine.”
Jared grips Jensen’s wrists, pulls him closer, searches his eyes for the truth, for an answer, for an explanation. “You’re sick baby. You’re sick. I need to take care of you.”
“Don’t you get it,” Jensen sighs. He closes his eyes. His face twists, but he doesn’t cry. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want this for you -I don’t want to be your life. You shouldn’t have to take care of me Jared. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”
“I just. . .I want you to be alright. I just want you to be alright.”
* * *
Jared goes back to the Bayou on a Tuesday and stays gone for thirteen more days. He calls Jensen four times during this period, only talking to him twice before Jensen starts to keep the phone off the hook. Jared begins to lose his mind with worry, can’t concentrate, forgets his lines and he’s sure that everyone knows something is off with him, knows for sure that Bobby and Peter Farrelly are probably wishing they had cast Josh Hartnett in his place.
He calls up Danneel, even though they are officially not on speaking terms. He knows he was wrong to take his anger out on her, but she had made it seem like Jensen was doing fine. She never mentioned how he kept the house in shambles, but he’s worried, calls her and asks about Jensen before he asks how she’s doing.
“He’s doing all right Jared,” she states.
“What does that mean? Is he taking his meds?”
“Yes Jared, he’s taking his meds,” she sighs. In a softer, more hushed tone she whispers, “You really should come home though. Yesterday he had these. . .these cuts on his arms. Said he hurt himself gardening.”
“And you don’t believe that?”
“Of course not,” she laughs sadly. “Would you?”
* * *
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Jared thinks that’s a lie because he’s been home for a week now and he’s wishing that he was still in the Bayou, still smelling that swamp air instead of the smell of Jensen‘s vomit as he strokes his back, trying to bring Jensen some sort of solace as he upchucks into the toilet.
“Why are you with me?” Jensen mutters, white foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth. He‘s thrown up so hard he‘s popped a blood vessel in his eye. He still looks beautiful.
“I love you, stupid. That’s why.”
* * *
The dysphoria begins to set in some time around March. Jensen starts to keep to himself, more so than ever. He’s practically mute all day, barely says two words and most nights he cries into the pillow, refuses to let Jared comfort him, refuses any kind of human touch. He begins to lose weight, his face becomes gaunt and the bones in his shoulders protrude almost grossly. The light in his eyes dim and when he looks at you, it’s like he’s not really looking at you, but behind you, like there’s something more interesting about the shadows you stand in rather than the person you are. He gets withdrawn. Starts to cut himself. Stops eating and Jared loses weight from the stress. He calls up his mother in tears asking her what he should do, how he can fix Jensen, help make him better?
“Get him to a doctor,” she says with motherly concern, “as soon as possible.”
* * *
Round three of the new meds work after a few days. Jensen starts to become more like his old self. He starts telling jokes again, starts laughing at all of Jared’s bad ones. He starts eating more and showering without being prodded. He even starts being more affectionate, kissing Jared whenever he gets a chance, holding his hand while they laze around on the couch. He thanks Jared for being there for him, for not giving up and leaving him like he’s sure anyone else would have.
For the first time in months, Jared feels like he’s getting his life back.
* * *
“We should go back to Colorado. Back to that place we went to last time,” Jensen smiles as he unzips his sweat jacket. Jared peels off his sweaty T-shirt chucking it to the floor with the rest of his workout clothes before stepping into the shower.
“I loved that place,” he says over the fall of water. “Should be fun?”
Jensen pulls back the shower curtain with a devilish grin, his eyes ceremoniously traveling up and down Jared’s body.
“I can think of a few other things that could be fun.”
* * *
Jensen is perfectly fine and healthy. He’s smiling and he’s laughing and he’s can hold a basic conversation. He’s perfectly fine and healthy, but Jared wonders about the marks on his wrist. Is he hurting himself again? No, of course not. Jensen’s is perfectly fine and healthy. The medicine’s been working for two months now, for two months straight and that’s the longest any cocktail has. Yeah, Jensen’s just fine Jared tells himself this over and over. He has to believe this, needs to believe this.
He gets a call from Christina Applegate. She wants to meet for lunch, wants to see Jared because it’s been forever since she has. Jared asks Jensen if he wants to go, if he wants to get out for a while, but he refuses, says he wants to stay home, wants to fix up his garden so Jared meets her at some diner on Ventura alone. They share a few laughs. After an hour he begins to feel human again and then he feels guilty for not feeling this way with Jensen, but sometimes it’s hard to. Sometimes it’s just too hard to feel a lot of things around him.
It’s a little after four in the afternoon when Jared gets back home. There’s a light rainfall and to Jared, it makes the earth smell a little cleaner, crisper like all that is dirty will soon become clean again. Still, he can feel something tense in the air. He knows something is wrong, can tell by the way the house is eerily silent as he walks inside.
He finds Jensen in the backyard, sitting in the garden, legs folded Indian style. His hands rest neatly in his lap and at first, Jared doesn’t notice the blood.
“You ever wonder. . .wonder what happens when you die?” Jensen asks staring up into the sky. Despite the light rainfall, it’s a beautiful spring afternoon, the clouds are all ghost-white and blue-jay blue and the earth smells sweet, sweet like the roses Jensen spends so many hours needlessly tending to.
“Jensen baby. . .what’s wrong?” Jared’s voice shakes as he bends down, takes Jensen’s hands in his own.
The blood. There’s so much. How could he not have noticed this before? How could he not have noticed how pale Jensen is or how dead and almost glassy his eyes look?
“I wanna see the lights Jare, I wanna see the lights.”
The blood pumps warmth all over Jared’s hands. It feels sticky and thick like honey, but it smells horribly pungent, makes Jared wishes he were somewhere else.
“What lights baby?” It hurts to talk.
“In the sky,” Jensen whispers. “I wanna be one.”
There. That’s when it breaks, that’s when it gets too much for Jared and he begins to cry. He doesn’t care that he’s a full-grown man, doesn’t care that he’s supposed to be the strong one, supposed to keep things together. He breaks like a levy in a storm, a million emotions tear him down right through the middle until he’s torn apart, sobbing against Jensen’s chest like a little baby. Jensen’s blood is warm and coating his hands and red and there.
“You can’t,” Jared sobs pulling him to stand, “Not yet.”
“Jared,” Jensen says closing his eyes leaning against Jared as he leads him toward their car. “I’m getting sick again?”
When he blinks, Jensen sees colors, beautiful iridescent shades of pink and green and vibrant streaks of blue. He sees a million points of light ascending toward the sky and he swears he’s one of them.
“Aurora borealis, right? That’s what they call the northern lights?”
“I’ve always wanted to see them,” Jensen yawns as Jared starts up the car. “I think I see them now. Can you?” Jensen closes his eyes, feels the unsullied breeze of wind brushing against his face as Jared speeds down the road.
I will go wherever you go. . .
“Yeah Jensen,” Jared whispers, vision blurring as he veers the car toward the left. Almost there, almost there. “ I can see them, all the colors, the mist. Like a million points of light, I can see you. . .I can see you.”
/FIN
THIS fanart inspired by the story as well as VNV Nation's - Carbon ,which to me is a song about humans destroying the earth, but also made me think of how a person would feel knowing that their lover is suicidal
Complete Fiction List new updates found.friend @
maddys_slash
Pairing: Jared / Jensen
Author:
caramel_maddy @
maddys_slash
Word Count: 4,668
Summary: A million points of light are ascending toward the sky. I'll always see you.
Warning / Rating: Deals with schizophrenia and other mental health issues. Strong R
Disclaimer: Not true, All fiction. I swear it on all the Piccadilly rent boys
A/N: The story is inspired by VNV Nation's - Carbon ,which to me is a song about humans destroying the earth, but also made me think of how a person would feel knowing that their lover is suicidal. This is NOT death fic!
A Million Points Of Light
I will go wherever you go. . .
That was a promise, one of a million made on a night where the sky stayed blue and never turned black. It was raining and to Jared the earth smelled a little cleaner, crisper like all that was dirty was becoming clean again being reborn into the night. He remembers that evening, everything about it from the clothes that he wore to the way Jensen’s hair had too much product in it making it lay unnaturally flat against his head. It was warm out, the kind of warm that only Californian spring evenings can bring, where winter is gone and you can practically taste summer on your tongue if the wind blows just right.
“Aurora borealis,” Jensen had said staring up into the stars, “that’s what they call northern lights.”
“How do you know that?” Jared asked keeping step, the clip-clap of his dress shoes sounding almost like laughter against the slick pavement.
“Because I do. It’s just one of those things I remember from high school.”
“And you say I’m the random one.” Jared smirked at him. Jensen didn’t smile back. He just stared up into the sky, something dark clouding over in his eyes. It was like his head was a million miles away. “Hey,” Jared grinned pushing his shoulder into him, “what’s wrong?”
“You ever wonder. . .wonder what happens when you die?”
“What?” Jared laughed. “Okay, Mr. Morbid.”
Jensen didn’t crack a smile. He kept his eyes up looking out into some far off place where Jared couldn‘t quite reach. “I read this book once, where this little girl was dying of cancer and she was afraid of death -naturally, so every night she’d ask her mother what would happen to her after she’d die. She’d ask if Heaven were real and if she’d get there and if she‘d become an angel.” Jensen paused, clearing his throat before continuing in a softer, more hushed tone. “Her mother told her that when someone dies, before they go to Heaven, they become light first. Some people become stars, others rays from the sun or rainbows in the sky, and this was called a before-Heaven until the real Heaven was actually ready for you. Once it was, you would turn into auroras so when we see northern lights, we‘re actually seeing souls going to Heaven.”
“Sounds like an interesting book.”
“Yeah, it was. Made me want to see it.”
“Heaven?” Jared joked eliciting a soft smile from Jensen.
He didn’t respond.
“I saw them once -those lights. I was like eleven and my brother told me that aliens were taking over. Scared the shit outta me, but once my mom convinced me to stop hiding in the basement and to come out and see them, it was just a beautiful sight. All the colors, the mist. It was like something outta movie.”
Jensen was quiet, the soft smile still on his face as he hooked his arm through Jared’s.
“Would you be pissed if we just went back home?”
“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Jared asked eyes full, wide, blinking with concern.
“I’m just. . . I don’t know. Not really up for hanging out with a million people tonight. Kinda just wanna lay on the couch with a beer.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that an hour ago before we put on these monkey suits?” Jared teased wrapping his arm around Jensen’s waist pulling him closer walking instep with him.
“I’m sorry. It was just I knew you wanted to-”
“Hey,” Jared whispered. “I’m just kidding. What’s wrong Jensen? Come on, something’s off tonight, I can feel it.”
Jensen looked at Jared and smiled sadly.
“You’re the most important person in my life right now. I just need you to know that.”
Jared paused mid-step withdrawing his arm from around Jensen’s waist, the loss of contact making him feel cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just want you to know that. I want you to always know that.”
“Dude, what the hell is up with you?”
Jensen looked away and didn’t speak, not at first. He coughed, cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then coughed again. In the smallest of voices he said, “I’m sick.”
* * *
Jensen goes on meds on a Thursday. The doctors say they are supposed to stabilize his moods, keep the highs and lows balanced to where the lows don't get so bad he wants to kill himself. Depixol makes him nauseous, but it's just as well because Thorazine and Promazine makes him lose his appetite, so he mostly just dry heaves and spits up orange juice.
Jared tries to understand what it all means because even after Jensen spends the entire weekend trying to explain it, Jared just never fully gets it. He drives to Borders and buys books on schizophrenia because he doesn’t trust the things that he reads online. He calls up is uncle Nelson down in Florida. Nelson’s a physician and he tells Jared things he doesn’t want to know. Tells Jared in point-blank matter-of-fucking-fact that his boyfriend is mentally ill. That his boyfriend will probably try to kill himself at least twice if he’s not successful the first time and that there is no definitive cure, he can only be treated, never healed. Eventually, one day his medication will more than likely stop working. Then Uncle Nelson asks Jared if he’s ready to make that kind of commitment, ready to spend the rest of his life taking care of a that kind of person, having to play doctor, friend, enemy, lover and savior. Before Jared can even think the question all the way through, he hears Jensen in the bathroom gagging into the toilet and he hangs up the phone.
“I’m here,” he says after a moment stroking his heavy palm down Jensen’s back. “I’m here.”
* * *
Jared rents a home in Colorado for a few weeks in November. It’s a small cabin with two bedrooms, cable television and a gas stove that can only stay hot long enough to cook a ten-minute breakfast on. He tells Jensen that he wants to see snow, but really, Jared just wants to get away from everyone. He’s grown sick of the random visits from friends, the parents calling at all hours of the day just to check up on things. Jensen’s doing fine, just fine because Jared’s taking care of him. Jared’s taking care of everything.
“How’s my hair look?” Jensen asks staring in the mirror. He’s not sure how he feels about the haircut the girl in town gave him. It’s a little too short on the sides and too long on the top. He thinks it’s a borderline mullet, but he’s not sure if it’s just in his head or not, but it‘s too long on top. Too long.
“Looks good,” Jared smiles scrambling three eggs into a black skillet. “Wanna go to a movie?”
“Depends. What’cha wanna see?” Jensen’s not really paying attention to what Jared’s talking about, his eyes keep focusing in the mirror, staring at his hair. It’s awful. Just awful.
“We could see that Will Ferrell movie.”
“But he’s not even funny,” Jensen replies quickly, each word seemingly tumbling from his mouth one after the other. “He’s annoying and overrated. I think he’s boring.”
“No, he’s not,” Jared laughs. “He’s hilarious.”
“How’s my hair? Seriously. It doesn’t look weird to you?”
“No, it looks fine-”
“Why are you lying to me for?” Jensen interjects.
“I’m not. You look-”
“I’m going out for a walk.”
“What? It’s like thirty degrees out.”
“I don’t care,” Jensen grunts opening the door. “I need air. Can’t breathe in here.”
“Wait a minute,” Jared turns the stove off, wipes his hands down the front of his shirt. “Let me get a coat. I’ll come with you.”
“I don’t need you to come with me. I’m thirty-one years old, I don’t need you to baby-sit me!”
There’s a wild look to Jensen’s eyes, almost crazed. His pupils are dilated and he’s sweating far more than he should be.
Jared’s heart sinks down into his stomach. It almost hurts to talk.
“Did you take your meds today?”
“I’m out,” Jensen laughs in a singsong voice. “Been out for four days now. Don’t need em, don’t need em! ”
* * *
“Please get up,” Jared whispers placing his hand on Jensen’s back. Jensen doesn’t stir. “You’ve been in bed for two days. You gotta eat something.” Still, no response. Jared grows impatient, shakes Jensen with a little more force than necessary. “Get up, dude, come on!” He pleads.
Jensen curls up into a ball burying his head in his hands.
“Why are you here,” he sobs into his palms. “You hate me don’t you? Why?”
Something inside of Jared breaks, but he won’t allow himself to cry, no, not right now.
“I made dinner. Your favorite.”
“You don’t know my favorite,” Jensen cries. “YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAVORITE!” He screams curling his body into a tighter ball.
To Jared, Jensen looks frail, weak and almost childlike.
For the first time in months, he’s afraid that he doesn’t know what to do.
* * *
In December they fly home to Texas. They’ve done this for years; Christmas Eve spent with Jared’s family, Christmas Day spent with Jensen’s. This is the way they’ve done it for two years so this year on the third, when Jensen decides that he wants to spend Christmas Eve with his parents, Jared doesn’t argue. He smiles and complies, just happy to make Jensen happy.
“How is he doing?” Jensen’s mother asks as soon as she gets a moment alone with Jared. Donna is a small, tender kind of lady with a bright smile and warm, bluish-brown eyes.
“Honestly. . .” Jared pauses wonders if he should tell the truth. Wonders if he should tell her about the night terrors and the fits of crying. He flirts with telling her about the agoraphobia and how he had to practically sedate her youngest son just to get him on the plane.
He thinks maybe it would be wise to tell her what the doctors said, tell her that they’ve yet to find the right combination of meds to work for more than a few weeks. It’s just that it’s Christmas Eve. . .it’s Christmas Eve.
“Good Mama Ackles, he’s doing good.”
* * *
They move their bodies slow, Jared being careful, tender, downright gentle as he enters Jensen for the first time in what feels like years. It’s actually been six months since they’ve shared intimate contact, not even kissing. The cocktail of pills that Jensen has to take everyday leaves him too tired to do most of anything besides sleep.
“I love you,” he grunts into the pillow arching his back as Jared pushes all the way in.
“I-” Jared grits his teeth. The feeling of Jensen’s body is so right , so new again and he loses control. He’s like a fumbling teenager spilling his seed with a shake of the hips barely ten seconds in.
* * *
Jared gets offered to do a movie. He hasn’t done one in a year, not since Jensen started getting sick and he’s tempted to take it. It films on location in Louisiana. It’s a buddy-cop film and they want Jared to play the bumbling partner to a smooth talking, ladies man. He finds it hilarious that Will Ferrell is already attached to the film and for a few weeks he considers taking it. It only shoots for a month and Jared’s been itching to get back in the business. He’s only done a handful of television appearances since Supernatural ended and most of those roles have been forgettable.
He decides not to take it. He knows Jensen barely likes to leave the house and he can’t imagine him being ready to move down to the Bayou for thirty-four days. Even if he would, who would keep him company? Make sure he took his pills three times a day because sometimes Jensen forgets and only takes them in the mornings. If Jared took the job, he’d be too busy filming to make sure of these things.
“What’s this?” Jensen says coming in from the backyard. His clothes are covered in mud, his face caked with dirt. He’s taken up gardening over the last two months, says it relaxes him and he’s gotten quite good at it, planted rosebushes all over the backyard.
Jared takes a look at the crumpled script in his hand and snatches it away.
“Nothing. Just a movie I was offered-”
“Take it,” Jensen says firmly snatching it back.
“I’m not interested in it.”
“You’re a bad liar. This is a Farrelly Brother’s film -you love the Farrelly brothers and you love Will Ferrell. I know you want this -this part is so you!”
“You read it?” Jared exhales. He knows the part is tailor-made for him.
“Jare,” Jensen sighs placing the script down on the kitchen table. “You should work. Just because I’m not doesn’t mean you shouldn’t -this is a golden opportunity. I want you to take it.”
“I can’t just leave you here.”
“You’re not leaving me. You’re going to work.”
* * *
Jared decides that he loves Louisiana about an hour after he steps foot off of the plane. Danneel’s from here, wrote out a list of places she said he has to visit. At the top of his list is Madam Laveau's Voodoo Shop just out of curiosity to see if it’s as eerie as Danny makes it out to be.
The mood on the set is fun, easy. Jared knows that spending four years on a television show where the cast and crew began to feel like family was a luxury that he’ll probably never experience again, but he’s not expecting anything more than civility anyway. When shooting wraps on the first night they all go out drinking. Will Ferrell is surprisingly a lightweight, can only down three shots before he calls it quits for the night. Jared stays out drinking with Christina Applegate until some time after three. She drinks him under the table. She tells him about her divorce, he tells her as much about his life as he can without giving away too much. He talks about his boyfriend, but never says his name, he talks about how he hated leaving him, but doesn’t elaborate as to why. They form an instant connection and he can already smell a friendship forming.
He stumbles into his hotel around 3:15, drunk dials Jensen, but Jensen doesn’t pick up. It’s midnight in L.A. and Jared surmises that Jensen’s probably sleeping.
* * *
“You taking your meds, right?”
“Yes sir, three times a day like clockwork and yes, before you ask, Danneel’s here right now. She slept over -did you ask her to do that?” Jensen asks, his voice dragged and not at all amused. He hates it, hates how in the span of a year he’s gone from being totally self-sufficient to everyone thinking that he needs a caretaker twenty-four hours a day.
“I just asked her to come in every now and then to check up on things-”
“I told you, I don’t need a babysitter Jared. I really hate how you don’t listen to me.” Jensen sighs. “I gotta go.”
“We haven’t spoken in two days and you-”
Jensen hangs up the phone and Jared sits in his trailer, mouth hanging open. He’s frustrated and annoyed and confused.
* * *
Jared calls Jensen every night. As soon as Peter and Bobby call it a wrap, Jared’s on his cell phone dialing up any random set of three numbers. First he calls their main phone line, then if Jensen doesn’t pick up that he tries their bedroom line. Calling Jensen’s cell is always the last resort and on a night when Jensen doesn’t pick up any of the three, Jared gets worried. He calls up Danneel. It’s a Monday and it’s some time after two in the morning and she doesn’t answer. Jared leaves her a calm message, asks her to call him back as soon as she gets it.
Danneel calls him back at seven the next night, apologizes for taking so long, but her battery had died. Jared asks her the standard questions: How’s Jensen? Is he taking his meds on time? Did he try to hurt himself again? Is he sleeping alright? Danneel tells Jared that he’s fine, doing surprisingly well and that she’s stunned because she thought for sure Jensen wouldn’t be able to function on his own for a day let alone two weeks.
Jared wonders if maybe he’s been pulling the reins a little too tight. Maybe Jensen’s not as sick as Jared thinks.
* * *
He flies back home to California on the third weekend of the month. He doesn’t tell Jensen, wants to surprise him and stops at the corner store two blocks away from their house just to pick up Jensen’s favorite brand of coffee.
When Jared walks into the house, he’s the one surprised by what he sees. Everything is messy -not sloppy and slightly disorganized, but disastrous. The living room is littered with junk, piles and piles of old pizza boxes and cartons full of half-eaten take out rot on the tables. There’s some sort of red and blue stains on the walls, almost like spilled ink. There’s a crack in one of the windows and if Jared didn’t know any better, he’d think that someone must have broken in.
“Jensen,” he yells. No response. “Jensen, where are you?”
Jared makes his way around the house, sees the mess in the kitchen that rivals the one in the living room. It’s a pigsty, there are little black bugs that Jared doesn’t know the name of crawling across the filth on the counters and floors. It smells like pure hell and he has to hold his hand over his nose so he doesn’t vomit.
His pulse races and his heart pounds in his chest as he searches the first floor for Jensen. Something is wrong, Jared knows this, Jared can feel this. Where is Jensen? Where is he?
Jared can’t breathe by the time he finds him. Jensen’s curled up in bed staring at the television. The bedroom is surprisingly clean, pristine even and this troubles Jared so much that he can feel his stomach twisting. He barely makes it to the bathroom hurling up airplane food into the sink.
When he comes back into the bedroom, Jensen barely acknowledges him. Sure, he says ‘hi’, but his tone is flat, monotone.
He’s watching a news program. Jared walks out of the room. He needs to clean the house.
* * *
“You have to finish it!”
“No I don’t! Fuck it, YOU come first Jensen!”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“I know you’re not -look at the house! It took me all day just to clean it.”
“So it was a little messy, I promise you I’m fine.”
Jared grips Jensen’s wrists, pulls him closer, searches his eyes for the truth, for an answer, for an explanation. “You’re sick baby. You’re sick. I need to take care of you.”
“Don’t you get it,” Jensen sighs. He closes his eyes. His face twists, but he doesn’t cry. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want this for you -I don’t want to be your life. You shouldn’t have to take care of me Jared. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”
“I just. . .I want you to be alright. I just want you to be alright.”
* * *
Jared goes back to the Bayou on a Tuesday and stays gone for thirteen more days. He calls Jensen four times during this period, only talking to him twice before Jensen starts to keep the phone off the hook. Jared begins to lose his mind with worry, can’t concentrate, forgets his lines and he’s sure that everyone knows something is off with him, knows for sure that Bobby and Peter Farrelly are probably wishing they had cast Josh Hartnett in his place.
He calls up Danneel, even though they are officially not on speaking terms. He knows he was wrong to take his anger out on her, but she had made it seem like Jensen was doing fine. She never mentioned how he kept the house in shambles, but he’s worried, calls her and asks about Jensen before he asks how she’s doing.
“He’s doing all right Jared,” she states.
“What does that mean? Is he taking his meds?”
“Yes Jared, he’s taking his meds,” she sighs. In a softer, more hushed tone she whispers, “You really should come home though. Yesterday he had these. . .these cuts on his arms. Said he hurt himself gardening.”
“And you don’t believe that?”
“Of course not,” she laughs sadly. “Would you?”
* * *
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Jared thinks that’s a lie because he’s been home for a week now and he’s wishing that he was still in the Bayou, still smelling that swamp air instead of the smell of Jensen‘s vomit as he strokes his back, trying to bring Jensen some sort of solace as he upchucks into the toilet.
“Why are you with me?” Jensen mutters, white foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth. He‘s thrown up so hard he‘s popped a blood vessel in his eye. He still looks beautiful.
“I love you, stupid. That’s why.”
* * *
The dysphoria begins to set in some time around March. Jensen starts to keep to himself, more so than ever. He’s practically mute all day, barely says two words and most nights he cries into the pillow, refuses to let Jared comfort him, refuses any kind of human touch. He begins to lose weight, his face becomes gaunt and the bones in his shoulders protrude almost grossly. The light in his eyes dim and when he looks at you, it’s like he’s not really looking at you, but behind you, like there’s something more interesting about the shadows you stand in rather than the person you are. He gets withdrawn. Starts to cut himself. Stops eating and Jared loses weight from the stress. He calls up his mother in tears asking her what he should do, how he can fix Jensen, help make him better?
“Get him to a doctor,” she says with motherly concern, “as soon as possible.”
* * *
Round three of the new meds work after a few days. Jensen starts to become more like his old self. He starts telling jokes again, starts laughing at all of Jared’s bad ones. He starts eating more and showering without being prodded. He even starts being more affectionate, kissing Jared whenever he gets a chance, holding his hand while they laze around on the couch. He thanks Jared for being there for him, for not giving up and leaving him like he’s sure anyone else would have.
For the first time in months, Jared feels like he’s getting his life back.
* * *
“We should go back to Colorado. Back to that place we went to last time,” Jensen smiles as he unzips his sweat jacket. Jared peels off his sweaty T-shirt chucking it to the floor with the rest of his workout clothes before stepping into the shower.
“I loved that place,” he says over the fall of water. “Should be fun?”
Jensen pulls back the shower curtain with a devilish grin, his eyes ceremoniously traveling up and down Jared’s body.
“I can think of a few other things that could be fun.”
* * *
Jensen is perfectly fine and healthy. He’s smiling and he’s laughing and he’s can hold a basic conversation. He’s perfectly fine and healthy, but Jared wonders about the marks on his wrist. Is he hurting himself again? No, of course not. Jensen’s is perfectly fine and healthy. The medicine’s been working for two months now, for two months straight and that’s the longest any cocktail has. Yeah, Jensen’s just fine Jared tells himself this over and over. He has to believe this, needs to believe this.
He gets a call from Christina Applegate. She wants to meet for lunch, wants to see Jared because it’s been forever since she has. Jared asks Jensen if he wants to go, if he wants to get out for a while, but he refuses, says he wants to stay home, wants to fix up his garden so Jared meets her at some diner on Ventura alone. They share a few laughs. After an hour he begins to feel human again and then he feels guilty for not feeling this way with Jensen, but sometimes it’s hard to. Sometimes it’s just too hard to feel a lot of things around him.
It’s a little after four in the afternoon when Jared gets back home. There’s a light rainfall and to Jared, it makes the earth smell a little cleaner, crisper like all that is dirty will soon become clean again. Still, he can feel something tense in the air. He knows something is wrong, can tell by the way the house is eerily silent as he walks inside.
He finds Jensen in the backyard, sitting in the garden, legs folded Indian style. His hands rest neatly in his lap and at first, Jared doesn’t notice the blood.
“You ever wonder. . .wonder what happens when you die?” Jensen asks staring up into the sky. Despite the light rainfall, it’s a beautiful spring afternoon, the clouds are all ghost-white and blue-jay blue and the earth smells sweet, sweet like the roses Jensen spends so many hours needlessly tending to.
“Jensen baby. . .what’s wrong?” Jared’s voice shakes as he bends down, takes Jensen’s hands in his own.
The blood. There’s so much. How could he not have noticed this before? How could he not have noticed how pale Jensen is or how dead and almost glassy his eyes look?
“I wanna see the lights Jare, I wanna see the lights.”
The blood pumps warmth all over Jared’s hands. It feels sticky and thick like honey, but it smells horribly pungent, makes Jared wishes he were somewhere else.
“What lights baby?” It hurts to talk.
“In the sky,” Jensen whispers. “I wanna be one.”
There. That’s when it breaks, that’s when it gets too much for Jared and he begins to cry. He doesn’t care that he’s a full-grown man, doesn’t care that he’s supposed to be the strong one, supposed to keep things together. He breaks like a levy in a storm, a million emotions tear him down right through the middle until he’s torn apart, sobbing against Jensen’s chest like a little baby. Jensen’s blood is warm and coating his hands and red and there.
“You can’t,” Jared sobs pulling him to stand, “Not yet.”
“Jared,” Jensen says closing his eyes leaning against Jared as he leads him toward their car. “I’m getting sick again?”
When he blinks, Jensen sees colors, beautiful iridescent shades of pink and green and vibrant streaks of blue. He sees a million points of light ascending toward the sky and he swears he’s one of them.
“Aurora borealis, right? That’s what they call the northern lights?”
“I’ve always wanted to see them,” Jensen yawns as Jared starts up the car. “I think I see them now. Can you?” Jensen closes his eyes, feels the unsullied breeze of wind brushing against his face as Jared speeds down the road.
I will go wherever you go. . .
“Yeah Jensen,” Jared whispers, vision blurring as he veers the car toward the left. Almost there, almost there. “ I can see them, all the colors, the mist. Like a million points of light, I can see you. . .I can see you.”
/FIN
THIS fanart inspired by the story as well as VNV Nation's - Carbon ,which to me is a song about humans destroying the earth, but also made me think of how a person would feel knowing that their lover is suicidal
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