What you got under your shirt (A cog in the murder-machine) 5/5
Title: What you got under your shirt (A cog in the murder-machine)(5/5)
Author: marlowe78
Rating: R for later-occurring violence
Characters: Jared, Jensen, OCs
Word count: This part only ~1.920, ~21.000 the whole story.
Warnings: Hello! Here we are in "later chapters". So... violence. Bloodshed. Terrified teenagers. Someone with guns in a Highschool. So if you might have been in such a situation (god, I hope not!) you might not want to continue.
Summary: Highschool-AU.
Jared Padalecki is one of the Golden Boys of Hilldale. He has all you need to be sixteen and is a nice guy on top. If there wouldn't be the mystery of his former best-friend Jensen, who transformed into some kind of Grim Reaper, his life would be boring in its' perfection.
Title is taken from "Teenagers", by My Chemical Romance
a/n: Now we're at the end. Last chapter. Have fun.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2
“Drop the gun, kid!”
A jerk from Jensen and the new sound yanked Jay back to reality and his eye-lids shot open, nearly at their own accord. A different, a deep voice full of authority had spoken from behind them. Jared saw Mark flinch, saw him look up and for some inexplicable reason, he followed his line of sight.
Not one, but three dark-clothed men stood in the door and a quick look confirmed that the other entrances were similarly covered, that three more men had moved between Mark and the Farlands, one of them attempting to pry Kevin from Melanie’s grip while they tried to get them moving, tried to get them away. They wore full SWAT-gear; bullet-proof vests, boots and gloves, helmets but no face-masks. They carried heavy weapons, rifles pointed at Mark, keeping him in sight but not yet shooting.
Between the three in the main doorway stood a man in a simple bullet-proof vest. He wore plain clothes, jeans and strangely enough a red woolen sweater with a snow-flake-pattern. His thinning brown hair was a bit messed up and he looked more like a man on his way to a Christmas-party or a skiing-vacation than a police-officer. His voice was calm and soothing, carrying without problems even though the man didn’t raise it one bit over average talking-volume.
“Mark, come on. Drop the gun. We could talk a bit, huh?” Enticing, and Jared was sure that had he been in Mark’s place, he’d tell the stranger everything. “Those your friends, there?” the Officer - negotiator, Jay suddenly realized; they were in a hostage situation, a fact that hadn’t really registered until now - pointed to Jensen and Jared. ‘No’, he thought. ‘Not friends, not both, maybe me’
Mark shook his head. “No. Not my friends” His voice sounded strange, empty when it had been full of emotion before. “Jay, he’s kinda my friend. But friends stick with each other, don’t they?”
“Yes. If possible. But sometimes, they can’t.”
“If possible? I di’n’t make ’t ‘mpossible. Was still possible. So, no. Not my friends, then. Jay didn’t stick with me.” He swayed a bit, like a reed in the wind.
“Mark. Mark, look at me.” Astoundingly, Mark did. “Listen. I don’t know what happened. I have sadly no idea what or who did wrong with you. I will help you, if you’ll let me. You could talk to me, if you want to, or I could call your parents. Would you like that? Yes?” he confirmed at the slight, miniscule nod he’d spotted. “But look, Mark, this? This isn’t a good way to find a solution.”
“Solution?” Mark looked around, taking his time to see every speck of blood, every corpse and every remaining kid - every man in the room. “I don’t think there is a solution” His voice was dead, creeped Jared out like nothing’d ever done before. He felt the shudder pass through Jensen, noticed then that Mark’s grip had firmed, his aim re-set on his friend’s forehead. Jensen kept looking at Mark, didn’t take his eyes off him like he owed him something - as if there was a silent promise or maybe forgiveness passed along that look. There was only a fleeting glimpse to Jared, but even that split-second carried enough meaning for Jay to get it.
Jensen was saying goodbye.
The bullet hit true and deadly, shattering bones and ripping tissue with as much difficulty as a hot knife had ripping through butter.
-*-
Jared felt his friend jerk throughout his hand, all along his arm and into his shoulder to his heart. He’d been so sure that he’d kept his eyes on Jens but found that he hadn’t, that the shot rang through the darkness of his closed lids. With a start and a sudden yell he opened them, staring at the ceiling and listening to the shouting and loud calls from the police, the orders given and affirmed.
He didn’t want to see his friend’s eyes, didn’t want to see the green dulling and dying. He knew he was crying, shaking, but his brain didn’t process more than the mere facts. ‘Jensen is dead, I killed my friend, he is dead, he is dead, he’s deaddeaddeaddead…’
“Kid, hey, kid, come on, get up. Come on, it’s over; calm down. Calm down” didn’t register. He heard it, but it didn’t reach far.
“Jay?” The whispered question, however, yanked him into the Now and Here faster than light. He hadn’t noticed it but his death-grip on Jensen’s hand had actually been returned through his whole freak-out. Jensen wasn’t dead. Jensen wasn’t dead?
“Jens?” He turned around and there was his best friend, there were those green eyes, troubled, hurt, devastated and surprisingly dry. The dark kohl and black hair tinted Jens’ face in a deathly yellow and there was blood…
There was blood on his cheek.
Jared dared to move some more, rising to his elbows and taking a look-see. He wished he hadn’t when he spotted Mark lying dead, head turned sideways and his empty gaze directed at Jared, still pleading for something Jay wouldn’t ever know.
Mark’d fallen backwards when he’d been hit in the chest, shot by two or three officers simultaneously. Jay’d later hear from his uncle that Chris Roman, the negotiator, had given a signal to shoot when he’d recognized there was no getting to Mark, but right now, all that he saw, knew and realized was that Mark was dead and Jensen wasn’t. All that he saw was that his former team-mate had been so close to Jens, must have been standing over Jensen’s midrift, that his dead body lay half on Jensen’s feet and that the smooth shine on the black boots was, in fact, pooling blood.
He twisted away and violently vomited on one of the medic’s shoes.
-*-
What happened afterwards was a big blur; twisting colors and voices and sensations. He clung to Jensen’s hand through all the hustle of the medics and officers, through the questions he couldn’t answer and the keening sobs of Melanie or Molly who mourned the death of her friend. He knew that he should be sad like them but he couldn’t be. He was detached, walking on air and rubbery legs, not feeling the pinprick of the needle that injected warmth into his veins. Even though the world blurred even further after, he gripped Jens’ fingers harder, determined to not let go, to not let anybody rip the last piece of sanity, the last thing that made sense in his scrambled brain away from him.
He was aware of people touching him, speaking to him. Or maybe they were speaking to Jensen, he couldn’t tell. Somewhere in the deep folds of his brain he noticed Jensen’s voice, maybe answering those questions that didn’t make sense? When someone tried to pry his hands away from his friend, though, he clearly heard Jens growl in warning. It made him feel lighter, knowing that he wasn’t a burden to him ‘cause he sure couldn’t let go even if he were.
-*-
“Jared!” He knew that voice. It shook him awake from his stupor like nothing else, every instinct turning towards it. “Jay! Let me go, you fool, that’s my son over there! If you…” he heard the warning and some weird part of his mind kept thinking: ‘hey, so this is what they mean about stepping between a mother-bear and her cubs’. But his own reaction was instantaneous, like that of said bear-cub.
“Mom” he called. “Mom…”
Jared felt Jensen slacken his grip but he still wasn’t ready to give up the solace it offered, so he just squeezed it again and Jens stopped the withdrawal. So it was that when his mother grabbed him and held him and hugged the bejesus out of him, she also included Jensen in her embrace.
“Jared, when I heard… he-heard…“she sobbed, clinging harder and harder to her son. “Are you ok? Tell me you’re ok. Jared, tell me you’re fine!” Suddenly the hug was gone and his mom had him by the shoulders, shaking him - not altogether gentle.
“He’s gonna be fine, Mrs. P.” Jensen whispered, not daring to be too loud and interrupt her motherly flip-out too much.
“Oh my God - Jensen” she turned her gaze to him - only for a second before she was back to soaking up her own son’s features, memorizing them for whatever might come in the future. “I saw Donna in front, she’ll be here soon. Don’t…” she sobbed a bit more.
“Mom, it’s ok. I’m fine. We…” for the first time since he’d lost his breakfast Jay looked at his friend’s face, taking in the pallor and deep shock set in his eyes. The tiny guy that lived in his head kicked him and told him that Jensen’d been hanging on to his own calm only for the sake of Jay. Now that someone else was there, was able to keep Jared sane, Jens was starting to shake, losing focus and staring into space, just as Jay had done moments before. “We’re both gonna be fine. I’m not hurt, Jens isn’t hurt. Right?” he shook his friend’s hand, demanding a response. “Jens?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. No. Nothing’s… it’s not… I think…” The black-clad boy’s motions were birdlike, fast movements of his head, gaze flickering up, down and somewhere else entirely, where no-one else could follow. Jensen gripped his jeans, over and over pinching the cloth and lifting it up and away from his skin and only then did Jared notice that it was damp - blood-soaked. It wasn’t probably all Mark’s; he distantly recalled that they’d passed many injured and dead kids on their way to the cafeteria and that Jensen’d been interacting with them while he himself had been too focused to find…
“Megan! Mom, where…” he frantically looked around, took in the police-officers and teachers, medics and what he later learned were trauma-counselors milling in the room. Students crying and sobbing, parents wailing, shouting out in grief and loss or in stark relief and Megan wasn’t among them, where was she, where was his sister!
“Jay, it’s ok, she’s fine. She’s with Bill, Jared, it’s ok, it’s ok, I swear she’s fine. Just a bit shaken, but she wasn’t -“Sherry swallowed hard “-not as close to … it as you.”
“Jensen!” Without warning, or at least none Jay’d been able to pick up, Donna Ackles ripped her son from the gurney they were sitting on and pressed him to her chest so hard that Jay was pulled down and to the ground. The shock of suddenly sitting on the linoleum shook the last cobwebs of unreality from his mind and only left elation. Jared sat on the floor, still gripping Jensen’s hand with his right, his mother’s with his left hand and looked up in the astonished, slightly puzzled eyes of his friend.
He watched Jensen sag in his mother’s arms, saw his pupils dilate and his eyes roll up in his head, shock finally getting the better of him and his brain shutting down, demanding a time-out.
Jared watched Donna move her son in her arms, calmly taking his pulse and just holding him tight. He felt his mom pull him up in her arms and for a while - hours? Minutes? He couldn’t say - the four of them sat in front of the school on two squeaky stretchers and just breathed.
Megan and Bill coming over and joining them was the last thing Jared was aware of that day.
The end
*********************
a/n:
I know, there were lots of questions that you wanted answers to. I'm really sorry that you didn't get them. I SWEAR, though, that you will. The sequel to this, "Darken your clothes", has been planned from nearly the beginning and I'm pretty far along already. Because I was persuaded by my friend to not wait one week between posts, you'll have to wait a bit for the answers you have.
I wrote this from Jared's POV. And this was Jared's story. To get the story behind Jensen, we have to hear HIM tell it - so "Darken your clothes" is Jensen's POV. We'll also answer the question janes_membrane asked. I promise.
So, here it is: Chapter one of "Darken your clothes"
Marlowe
Author: marlowe78
Rating: R for later-occurring violence
Characters: Jared, Jensen, OCs
Word count: This part only ~1.920, ~21.000 the whole story.
Warnings: Hello! Here we are in "later chapters". So... violence. Bloodshed. Terrified teenagers. Someone with guns in a Highschool. So if you might have been in such a situation (god, I hope not!) you might not want to continue.
Summary: Highschool-AU.
Jared Padalecki is one of the Golden Boys of Hilldale. He has all you need to be sixteen and is a nice guy on top. If there wouldn't be the mystery of his former best-friend Jensen, who transformed into some kind of Grim Reaper, his life would be boring in its' perfection.
Title is taken from "Teenagers", by My Chemical Romance
a/n: Now we're at the end. Last chapter. Have fun.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2J2
“Drop the gun, kid!”
A jerk from Jensen and the new sound yanked Jay back to reality and his eye-lids shot open, nearly at their own accord. A different, a deep voice full of authority had spoken from behind them. Jared saw Mark flinch, saw him look up and for some inexplicable reason, he followed his line of sight.
Not one, but three dark-clothed men stood in the door and a quick look confirmed that the other entrances were similarly covered, that three more men had moved between Mark and the Farlands, one of them attempting to pry Kevin from Melanie’s grip while they tried to get them moving, tried to get them away. They wore full SWAT-gear; bullet-proof vests, boots and gloves, helmets but no face-masks. They carried heavy weapons, rifles pointed at Mark, keeping him in sight but not yet shooting.
Between the three in the main doorway stood a man in a simple bullet-proof vest. He wore plain clothes, jeans and strangely enough a red woolen sweater with a snow-flake-pattern. His thinning brown hair was a bit messed up and he looked more like a man on his way to a Christmas-party or a skiing-vacation than a police-officer. His voice was calm and soothing, carrying without problems even though the man didn’t raise it one bit over average talking-volume.
“Mark, come on. Drop the gun. We could talk a bit, huh?” Enticing, and Jared was sure that had he been in Mark’s place, he’d tell the stranger everything. “Those your friends, there?” the Officer - negotiator, Jay suddenly realized; they were in a hostage situation, a fact that hadn’t really registered until now - pointed to Jensen and Jared. ‘No’, he thought. ‘Not friends, not both, maybe me’
Mark shook his head. “No. Not my friends” His voice sounded strange, empty when it had been full of emotion before. “Jay, he’s kinda my friend. But friends stick with each other, don’t they?”
“Yes. If possible. But sometimes, they can’t.”
“If possible? I di’n’t make ’t ‘mpossible. Was still possible. So, no. Not my friends, then. Jay didn’t stick with me.” He swayed a bit, like a reed in the wind.
“Mark. Mark, look at me.” Astoundingly, Mark did. “Listen. I don’t know what happened. I have sadly no idea what or who did wrong with you. I will help you, if you’ll let me. You could talk to me, if you want to, or I could call your parents. Would you like that? Yes?” he confirmed at the slight, miniscule nod he’d spotted. “But look, Mark, this? This isn’t a good way to find a solution.”
“Solution?” Mark looked around, taking his time to see every speck of blood, every corpse and every remaining kid - every man in the room. “I don’t think there is a solution” His voice was dead, creeped Jared out like nothing’d ever done before. He felt the shudder pass through Jensen, noticed then that Mark’s grip had firmed, his aim re-set on his friend’s forehead. Jensen kept looking at Mark, didn’t take his eyes off him like he owed him something - as if there was a silent promise or maybe forgiveness passed along that look. There was only a fleeting glimpse to Jared, but even that split-second carried enough meaning for Jay to get it.
Jensen was saying goodbye.
The bullet hit true and deadly, shattering bones and ripping tissue with as much difficulty as a hot knife had ripping through butter.
-*-
Jared felt his friend jerk throughout his hand, all along his arm and into his shoulder to his heart. He’d been so sure that he’d kept his eyes on Jens but found that he hadn’t, that the shot rang through the darkness of his closed lids. With a start and a sudden yell he opened them, staring at the ceiling and listening to the shouting and loud calls from the police, the orders given and affirmed.
He didn’t want to see his friend’s eyes, didn’t want to see the green dulling and dying. He knew he was crying, shaking, but his brain didn’t process more than the mere facts. ‘Jensen is dead, I killed my friend, he is dead, he is dead, he’s deaddeaddeaddead…’
“Kid, hey, kid, come on, get up. Come on, it’s over; calm down. Calm down” didn’t register. He heard it, but it didn’t reach far.
“Jay?” The whispered question, however, yanked him into the Now and Here faster than light. He hadn’t noticed it but his death-grip on Jensen’s hand had actually been returned through his whole freak-out. Jensen wasn’t dead. Jensen wasn’t dead?
“Jens?” He turned around and there was his best friend, there were those green eyes, troubled, hurt, devastated and surprisingly dry. The dark kohl and black hair tinted Jens’ face in a deathly yellow and there was blood…
There was blood on his cheek.
Jared dared to move some more, rising to his elbows and taking a look-see. He wished he hadn’t when he spotted Mark lying dead, head turned sideways and his empty gaze directed at Jared, still pleading for something Jay wouldn’t ever know.
Mark’d fallen backwards when he’d been hit in the chest, shot by two or three officers simultaneously. Jay’d later hear from his uncle that Chris Roman, the negotiator, had given a signal to shoot when he’d recognized there was no getting to Mark, but right now, all that he saw, knew and realized was that Mark was dead and Jensen wasn’t. All that he saw was that his former team-mate had been so close to Jens, must have been standing over Jensen’s midrift, that his dead body lay half on Jensen’s feet and that the smooth shine on the black boots was, in fact, pooling blood.
He twisted away and violently vomited on one of the medic’s shoes.
-*-
What happened afterwards was a big blur; twisting colors and voices and sensations. He clung to Jensen’s hand through all the hustle of the medics and officers, through the questions he couldn’t answer and the keening sobs of Melanie or Molly who mourned the death of her friend. He knew that he should be sad like them but he couldn’t be. He was detached, walking on air and rubbery legs, not feeling the pinprick of the needle that injected warmth into his veins. Even though the world blurred even further after, he gripped Jens’ fingers harder, determined to not let go, to not let anybody rip the last piece of sanity, the last thing that made sense in his scrambled brain away from him.
He was aware of people touching him, speaking to him. Or maybe they were speaking to Jensen, he couldn’t tell. Somewhere in the deep folds of his brain he noticed Jensen’s voice, maybe answering those questions that didn’t make sense? When someone tried to pry his hands away from his friend, though, he clearly heard Jens growl in warning. It made him feel lighter, knowing that he wasn’t a burden to him ‘cause he sure couldn’t let go even if he were.
-*-
“Jared!” He knew that voice. It shook him awake from his stupor like nothing else, every instinct turning towards it. “Jay! Let me go, you fool, that’s my son over there! If you…” he heard the warning and some weird part of his mind kept thinking: ‘hey, so this is what they mean about stepping between a mother-bear and her cubs’. But his own reaction was instantaneous, like that of said bear-cub.
“Mom” he called. “Mom…”
Jared felt Jensen slacken his grip but he still wasn’t ready to give up the solace it offered, so he just squeezed it again and Jens stopped the withdrawal. So it was that when his mother grabbed him and held him and hugged the bejesus out of him, she also included Jensen in her embrace.
“Jared, when I heard… he-heard…“she sobbed, clinging harder and harder to her son. “Are you ok? Tell me you’re ok. Jared, tell me you’re fine!” Suddenly the hug was gone and his mom had him by the shoulders, shaking him - not altogether gentle.
“He’s gonna be fine, Mrs. P.” Jensen whispered, not daring to be too loud and interrupt her motherly flip-out too much.
“Oh my God - Jensen” she turned her gaze to him - only for a second before she was back to soaking up her own son’s features, memorizing them for whatever might come in the future. “I saw Donna in front, she’ll be here soon. Don’t…” she sobbed a bit more.
“Mom, it’s ok. I’m fine. We…” for the first time since he’d lost his breakfast Jay looked at his friend’s face, taking in the pallor and deep shock set in his eyes. The tiny guy that lived in his head kicked him and told him that Jensen’d been hanging on to his own calm only for the sake of Jay. Now that someone else was there, was able to keep Jared sane, Jens was starting to shake, losing focus and staring into space, just as Jay had done moments before. “We’re both gonna be fine. I’m not hurt, Jens isn’t hurt. Right?” he shook his friend’s hand, demanding a response. “Jens?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. No. Nothing’s… it’s not… I think…” The black-clad boy’s motions were birdlike, fast movements of his head, gaze flickering up, down and somewhere else entirely, where no-one else could follow. Jensen gripped his jeans, over and over pinching the cloth and lifting it up and away from his skin and only then did Jared notice that it was damp - blood-soaked. It wasn’t probably all Mark’s; he distantly recalled that they’d passed many injured and dead kids on their way to the cafeteria and that Jensen’d been interacting with them while he himself had been too focused to find…
“Megan! Mom, where…” he frantically looked around, took in the police-officers and teachers, medics and what he later learned were trauma-counselors milling in the room. Students crying and sobbing, parents wailing, shouting out in grief and loss or in stark relief and Megan wasn’t among them, where was she, where was his sister!
“Jay, it’s ok, she’s fine. She’s with Bill, Jared, it’s ok, it’s ok, I swear she’s fine. Just a bit shaken, but she wasn’t -“Sherry swallowed hard “-not as close to … it as you.”
“Jensen!” Without warning, or at least none Jay’d been able to pick up, Donna Ackles ripped her son from the gurney they were sitting on and pressed him to her chest so hard that Jay was pulled down and to the ground. The shock of suddenly sitting on the linoleum shook the last cobwebs of unreality from his mind and only left elation. Jared sat on the floor, still gripping Jensen’s hand with his right, his mother’s with his left hand and looked up in the astonished, slightly puzzled eyes of his friend.
He watched Jensen sag in his mother’s arms, saw his pupils dilate and his eyes roll up in his head, shock finally getting the better of him and his brain shutting down, demanding a time-out.
Jared watched Donna move her son in her arms, calmly taking his pulse and just holding him tight. He felt his mom pull him up in her arms and for a while - hours? Minutes? He couldn’t say - the four of them sat in front of the school on two squeaky stretchers and just breathed.
Megan and Bill coming over and joining them was the last thing Jared was aware of that day.
The end
*********************
a/n:
I know, there were lots of questions that you wanted answers to. I'm really sorry that you didn't get them. I SWEAR, though, that you will. The sequel to this, "Darken your clothes", has been planned from nearly the beginning and I'm pretty far along already. Because I was persuaded by my friend to not wait one week between posts, you'll have to wait a bit for the answers you have.
I wrote this from Jared's POV. And this was Jared's story. To get the story behind Jensen, we have to hear HIM tell it - so "Darken your clothes" is Jensen's POV. We'll also answer the question janes_membrane asked. I promise.
So, here it is: Chapter one of "Darken your clothes"
Marlowe