Let your mind go, let yourself be free (pt9)
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~*~
Flying like this is a funny thing. While Jensen has no problem with heights or with crawling head-first over, into and underneath anything that's out there, the free fall is not really his favorite thing. He can do it, usually does it without thinking, trusting Jay to never lead him wrong that he never checks for himself. And he can try to tell himself that trust is the only reason he doesn't check, but the truth is: it's like standing on top of a diving-board and looking down into the clear water, which doesn't hide the ground from view so it looks double the distance it really is And when you stand there, shivering from the water cooling your skin, when you hear the boys and girls behind you sneer and joke and tease, pushing verbally to jump, jump, jump, fucker, jump... well, that double-distance grows more and more until you either close your eyes and do it, or tug your tail and pride between your legs and climb back down, trying to ignore their laughter and nasty words, the ”bock-bock-boooak” they lay on you during your walk of shame.
So no, Jensen doesn't like looking beforehand. But when he's actually in the air, he can't pretend it doesn't give him a thrill that rolls through his veins and makes every body-part perk up.
~*~*~*~
His feet touch the flat, gravel-covered roof and he follows the force, lets his knees bend to soften the impact and just leans slightly to the left, like he already did during the flight. Fall. Jump. Whatever.
He rolls over his left side, over his shoulder and pushes up once his legs hit the surface again, two, three, four more steps until he stops the momentum, right in front of Jared, who probably knew where he would land and how far he would roll and where he would come to a stop, down to the last inch.
“Hi.” Jensen grins into Jared's beaming face, feels his own mouth nearly split his skin in two. It's a heady feeling, souring through the air like this, even though it's just a few seconds of free-fall.
“Hi.” Jay replies and bumps his shoulder “how about we find something to eat?”
~*~*~*~
When they finally find a McDonald's to get Jared his pound of food, Jensen's tongue is burning in his mouth and his chin feels like a piece is missing. He can't stop touching, to reassure that it's still in one piece. It is, Jay has checked once he noticed that Jensen was bleeding. He declared it a minor bump and Jensen didn't even mention the ribs. He's used to them being bruised, it's pretty common to have a black and blue ribcage when you're doing parkour. But the tongue? That's a bitch. It stings and he's sure it's swollen to three times its size, a heavy, hurting flob of flesh in his mouth. He shakes his head when Jared asks if he wants coffee - the thought of drinking that hot tar they call coffee makes him flinch.
He excuses himself to the bathroom, checking the damage in the mirror. Once he swallows the blood, he can see the broad, deep cut. A glance to the underside confirms his suspicion: his incisors bit straight through. Fuck.
Back in the restaurant, Jay has a large McBreakfast in front of him, and he slides one of those ice-cream-cones over when Jensen sits down. It's cold and soothing, but the sweet vanilla-stuff hurts. He shakes his head sadly. He loves ice-cream.
Jared drops his burger and walks over to the counter again, and before Jensen can figure out what for, he's back, handing him a cup filled with ice-cubes. It's chilly and hurts a bit, but soon his mouth is nearly numb from the cold and tries to pretend not to notice Jay's concerned looks whenever crimson-colored water spill between his lips. It's probably even more disturbing when you're the one watching instead of bleeding.
“Uh, I think we should let a doctor check that.”
“Hm, mabe.”
“No, not maybe. Definitely. Come on, Doc Harris should be awake already.” Jay stuffs the rest of his Muffin between his teeth and pulls Jensen with him, swiping a bunch of paper-napkins on his way out that he shoves into Jensen's hands. “Use them, this is kinda disgusting!”
“Shangs.” he tries to snark, but Jared stops him.
“Don't speak, man. That's even worse.”
~*~*~*~
Doc Harris is one of those always friendly, ever-happy people who actually like minor injuries. So many physicians seem to be annoyed when people come in with headaches and stomach-pain, as if their presence is holding them off from the fame and glory they so obviously deserve. Harris, though, loves to see stuff like that. No wonder, he's seen so many splintered bones, gaping head-wounds and crushed testicles to last a lifetime.
His practice is right next to the skate-park.
A bitten tongue is minor stuff, ordinary, routine. He gives Jensen a local anesthetic that hurts like a bitch and leaves him feeling like he's got huge dead flab of meat in his mouth, tuts a little and sets to work.
It's really weird to have your tongues sewn closed. Jensen notices the tugging, but can't feel it. His saliva is drying on his tongue and he wishes the doc would hurry the fuck up.
~*~*~*~
On their way back to Goldi's, Jensen wishes he were still bleeding. Jay keeps trying to make him say something with that glob of dead flob and the stitches tickle against the inside of Jensen's mouth whenever he swallows.
“Fuck off!” he growls and Jay sniggers, teases him even more. “Gog, Shay! Shush she fuck up!”
It's a fucking long way back.
~*~*~*~
“Suck!”
This could be interlude to a dirty offer or a dirty joke, Jensen thinks. Sadly, it's nothing like that, he realizes as he stares disdainfully at the huge glass with ice-water. Jared put it in front of him right after they got up at two in the afternoon, the happy green straw mockingly declaring the liquid the best experience like, ever. Jensen is thirsty, though, and his tongue has unfortunately stopped being numb during sleep and is now a steadily complaining nuisance.
“You okay to work still?” Jensen glares up from his drink and growls. He totally doesn't need words to growl at such a stupid question. Jared gets the meaning at once. Hands high in the air to imply surrender - as if - he nods and grins. “Dude, don't bite me. I was just askin'.”
If it weren't for the competition, if it weren't for the fact that it's already Saturday, he would consider it. But it is Saturday, and the next project might not be such a dangerous, as in: possibly deadly location, but it's their most tricky place yet.
Myer-Building? Was difficult. This? Will be impossible.
He can feel Jared's eagerness all through his own bones.
~*~*~*~
“Jay...” Bones trails off. His lips flatten and he looks intimidated. It's not news, what they've planned, so it's a bit of a surprise that he's nervous now. “You sure this'll work?”
“Bonesey, of course I'm sure. See? I'm completely sure. And why do you think I'm so sure?” Jay raises his eyebrows and looks around in their little circle of friends “Because, my friends, this is completely, utterly, one hundred percent insane.” His smile is blinding and his dimples seem to spread up to his ears. Jared loves shit like this. Insane, crazy, dangerous, lunatic shit like this.
And Jensen has always been swept up in that tide of glee and mirth that's Jared with a plan, just like their friends are now, judging from their faces. Only Bones looks uncertain still, and he would love to ask him why but Blue is faster, and also more capable of talking, without wincing in pain and instigating unwanted hilarity.
“Hey Tommy.” she hangs herself over Bones' shoulders, drapes her thin, tattoo-covered arms over his chest and squeezes a bit “why that hang-dog look? It's an awesome piece, it'll look thrilling there. We can totally pull that off, you know we can.” Bones mutters something and Blue tightens her arms, nearly unnoticeable, to give comfort. He seems really upset, and she whispers in his ear something that makes him smile and look up at her while Cropper scowls at them. Jensen shakes his head, hopes that there won't be any sexual tension between these freaks along with the tension they already have. Blue is not the type to settle down, not yet, and not with any of them. Jensen once dreamed of them staying together forever, but it was just a one time-dream that ended in chaos and terror. When he woke, he knew Blue and he would never end well on the long run.
His stint in prison happened not long after, and in a weird way, it saved him from breaking up with her. Or being broken up with by her, same difference. This way, as shitty as these two years were, they can just pretend it never happened and be friends again. Satisfyingly unhealthy, he reckons, but a great relief.
Still, it's good to see her being nice to Bones. The kid may be a mouthy fucker, but he looks a bit scared right now, and considering that this is the guy who's not afraid of anything they'd so far encountered, that's a bit troubling. Jensen would like to know what the deal is, but it's none of his business.
~*~*~*~
It's seven, Jared and Jensen are in the car. Robin called them, bout an hour ago to say they need more paint, gave them a list of what they'd need and sent them off to go buy it on the other end of the city. The shops close by are nearly empty of the good stuff, no montana, no Krylon, no Rust Oleum. It's a bother, but that's all, they figure. Jump in the car, get the cans they need.
Now, they have the trunk filled with two backpacks full of spraycans, heavy shit.
“Man, I'm really happy that we don't have to carry those,” Jay grumbles when they dumped the packs in the car. He's babbling happily about some band he listened to recently and Jensen is listening attentively. Not that he's interested much, but it keeps him from thinking about poking his tongue against his teeth every second. It's weird, and it doesn't hurt much anymore but it's itchy and distracting.
The roads are pretty empty this time of day on a Saturday, some moms with full-packed mini-vans and soccer-kids in the backseats, some sorry guys coming from their weekend-shift and some even sorrier guys just going to their weekend-shifts. Jay turns right at the intersection that leads them to the city-tunnel, and that's when the car coughs and stutters.
“Oh, no, come on. No, please.” Jay coaxes and soothes and coos at the car and if it were a woman, it would totally carry them to the moon. It is not a woman, though, and so the old clunky warrior coughs twice more and stops with a jolt. “Oh baby, no, please, baby, come on, come back to me.”
“Shared, it'ss no usse.” Jensen tries to tell him, and it's a sign of Jay's worry that he doesn't even grin at the sounds and spit that's coming from his mouth. The car stopped and won't start again. “No gash?”
“No, the needle is still on half.” Jay taps the gauge and pouts when it suddenly drops to way behind empty, apparently having been stuck there for a while now “Fuck. Gimme your phone.”
“Why mine?”
“Because I left mine at Goldi's, now gimme.”
“Baddery'sh dead.”
“Why's it empty?”
“Why is yours ad Goldi's?”
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Angry, Jared hits the steering-wheel which apparently hurts because he swears even more after that and sucks on his knuckles. Jensen decides it's better to wait him out - Jared seldom has his tantrums but when he does, it's kinda pathetically cute and always good entertainment.
This time, though, it's already over and they sit in the car at the curb and stare out into the drizzly evening. It's getting late, already closer to eight and the track through the city will take even more time.
“Cab?”
“You got any money?”
Jensen shakes his had but searches through his pockets, just to be sure there isn't a twenty-dollar bill hiding somewhere. There isn't, of course, and the seventy cents he comes up with ain't gonna help them much. Jared digs out one-dollar-eighty from his pants. Crap.
Jay stares at it with a sorrowful, lost-puppy expression like he's trying to make the bill magically mate with the coins and start to reproduce. It would look funny if they weren't a whole city away from where they have to be. “So much for the bus.”
“So, walk, I guess.”
“Yepp. Walk. You know” Jared looks at Jensen, already poised to open the door “you sound like you got a new tongue-piercing.”
“Shud up.”
“Seriously, it's getting funnier every time.”
“Ash-monkey.”
Jared cackles and rounds to the trunk, and though it would serve him right for being a dumb monkey, Jensen reaches to the backseat and retrieves Jay's hat. They'd look weird if only one of them would wear his.
~*~*~*~
It's not allowed to walk through the tunnel. That's a crappy rule, but they can't really afford to be caught with two backpacks filled to the brim with spray-cans, so they take the long way across the bridge. They alternate between a light jog and fast walking, and soon Jensen's tongue is far from his mind, shoved away by the deep ache in his shoulders. He's really regretting now that he never went on nature-hikes with the orphanage's boy-scout-group.
~*~*~*~
It's getting close to ten when Jared swears again. Jensen has been trying to forget his ever-aching back, and so close to home - Goldi's - he wasn't paying attention to anything but the pavement. If he'd stumble with his heavy load as a dead weight, he'd probably flail like a bug on his back. Or a turtle.
He looks up, though, when Jared grabs his arm and yanks him to the left. Right in front, two familiar, stocky shapes point in their direction and start walking faster.
“Aw, crap.” Jensen groans and follows Jay's pace that quickly turns into a jog.
“Stop!” the mall-guards call after them “Stop right there, Security!” and Jensen scoffs a little by the dangerousness of that threat. Mall-guards outside their natural habitat? He doesn't need a law-degree to know they have no authority. They could call the big guys, though, and Jensen hopes they have too much pride to do that just yet. Jay and he were so close to Goldi's, there is no way the police wouldn't check a well-known sprayer hangout when they catch them.
Meaning they can't let them catch them.
“Jens...”
“I know.”
They speed up, dodging left and right but never letting the gap between the guards and them become too wide to let them consider calling the cops. Lead them on, lead them away and when they least expect it, vanish.
Easier said than done, though, because this aren't nuns in long habits and plain but flat-soled shoes. This aren't even railway-cops, weighted down by tons of armory and weapons and crappy insurance. These are plain-clothed, fit men that have a personal issue with them, and even though it's a good thing for they might not call the cops as fast, it makes them considerably more determined to catch them and beat the shit out of them.
Additionally, there is the small matter of the heavy bags bouncing on their shoulders and the by-now shaken loose can's that are digging into Jensen's tailbone. That's gonna bruise.
run, run, run, as fast as you can, you'll never catch the Gingerbread Man
Why there is an old rhyme about walking, talking bakery-products digging into his scull Jensen couldn't say but it's something to focus on, something to pace his stride to, a rhythm to keep up with. run, run, run
Jared is a shoulder-width away, his own steps in sync with Jensen's. They're breathing heavily but they aren't out of breath, not yet. Sure, they have been on their feet for quite a while now, but it's easy to keep the set distance between them and the guards. Few people are still out on the sidewalks and they don't have to dodge many obstacles. For a second, Jensen thinks about how ridiculous it must look to an outsider, like that cab-driver over there. Two men in dark suits, hats and sunglasses chased by two others in jeans and cord-jackets. He wouldn't take a bet of which group looks more suspicious.
They turn around a bend and there, like a beacon in the night - or some such girly crap - is their chance to get ultimately lost. A scrap-yard, stacked with old, rusty cars and newer, still rusty cars. Perfect.
Two fast steps and a jump gets them up on and an elegant side-vault gets them over the chain-linked fence from behind which they raise their hats in a mock salute to their pursuers, who can be heard cursing from the corner. The guards speed up, one of them even tries to follow over the fence but his friend drags him back down. They try the gate but it's securely locked, and Jared cackles when the two rattle the door, cursing.
Jensen is walking backwards, too curious to let the men out of his sight and that's why he notices the evil smirk on one of their faces. The guard pulls out his cell-phone and nods to something on the gate, a sign that can't be read from the inside and wow... that's not ominous at all. “Uhm, I godda bad feeling here, man.” He feels Jared stop and turns, looks at him.
“Uhm, yeah. Me too, actually.”
~*~
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