PRS AU fic: Change your name and come seek me; Part 1
Masterpost
Protocol #9858-09. Top Secret.
On July 18, 2010, eleven special folders named “J. T. Padalecki” are handed to J. Ackles.
Chief Ray is assigned as the handler of the operation.
Further information is classified under a higher level, authorized personnel only.
Any duplication or distribution of the information contained herein is strictly prohibited.
“Jared!”
A loud voice rings in his ears when Jared jerks his head and wakes up with a loud gasp.
Jared finds himself sitting in the chair at work and not in his persistent cycling nightmare.
He closes his eyes for a moment to let the dark, male figure dissolve behind his eyelids before his gaze snaps to his wrist watch to check time: 4PM.
“You woke up, sleeping freak?! The ability of yours to sleep at the fucking morgue is beyond my understanding.” Jared raises his head to studiously observe a blond guy approaching him.
“29 percent of people nap at the workplace, Chad.” Jared states while rubbing a hand over his face.
Chad answers with a mildly annoyed expression, “Thank you for that valuable information, Wiki. Still, it’s a morgue. Gross, dude.” There’s a moment’s pause, and Jared tilts his head to look at Chad. “Anyway, did you check the crypt with our last client?”
Jared quirks his eyebrow in question, and Chad winks, giving him a leering look.
“I don’t even want to know, Chad.” Jared quickly stands up, throwing his hands up in protest, palms out, and starts walking out of the room in order to pass on the following information.
“Hey, you should treat dead people with the same respect as the living, dude. She was hot, and you should appreciate her beauty,” Chad insists while following Jared out.
Jared catches no hint of humor in Chad’s voice, and he’s not even surprised.
If you asked Jared what he does in his spare time, he’d answer with “nothing”, because it’s hard to explain that he saves people’s lives on a constant basis.
It gets routine when you get used to this.
Dead people find Jared everywhere, starting from his workplace and up to the middle of the street. They are dead to the world, but the moment Jared comes close, they open their eyes to whisper “help me”, and Jared is taken back to the start of the day the person has died, opening his eyes in the morning with a mission to seek the person and prevent the death while he or she is still alive.
It’s like having déjà-vu once a week.
Luckily for Jared, it doesn’t happen often and not to all dead people he sees in his workplace, just to some of them. Jared has a theory that the reason is that they shouldn’t have died in a first place.
When he was a kid, Jared dreamed of becoming a Superhero. Now, he can be considered as one of them.
Unfortunately, when you do this for more than a year, it becomes your job.
Full-time job.
Jensen moves into a rented apartment, courtesy of his agency, one week after he passes the last tests for this assignment.
The first thing he has to do is to check his apartment for any “special presents” (aka covert listening devices) the agency might have left for him.
It’s not that Jensen doesn’t trust his agency; he just knows how it works. After all, it’s what he would do.
Moving quietly with a bug detector in his hand, Jensen finishes his search with four tiny devices.
He moves to sit at the kitchen table, placing the bugs in front of him.
With a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Jensen leans down to cheerfully declare, “Hello, guys! Thanks for your concern, but I already settled in. No need to check on me. Love the apartment by the way.”
The next moment, he pulls out a pair of needle-nosed pliers to destroy the bugs one by one, grinning wickedly. He wishes he could have seen the faces of the poor bastards with earphones on the other side of this lovely chat.
Jensen sorts out his clothes first, with economic and practiced moves. When the last shirt takes its place in the wardrobe, Jensen settles comfortably in the chair in the living room, blue folder in his hands.
He opens the folder, eyes scanning the information he knows by heart, and after, he takes out the photo of a young man to study it closely. Jensen’s eyes take in bright hazel eyes, dimpled smile and floppy hair.
Pretty impressive. Not that Jensen loves it. Too attractive. Any chance of distraction is not welcomed by him.
Still, this has the potential to become a very interesting assignment.
Jensen’s eyes drill into the hazel ones as he draws out the words with a wicked smirk, “Hello, Jared. You and I are gonna become very good friends.”
Jared comes home from his shift feeling like he might as well take the place of one of his clients. He considers, for a moment, the possibility of a quick shower, but the moment his gaze falls on his bed, the decision is made for him.
When Jared’s head hits pillow, he’s already sleeping so hard he misses the buzzing of his phone inside his jacket’s pocket.
Jared wakes up with a grunt, a sound is bugging him and he just wants to kill it and go back to sleep.
He rolls over on to his back, eyes tight shut, while his hand blindly reaches for his jacket he threw somewhere on the bed. Jared pulls out a phone, swearing, and he hopes that the caller has an important enough reason to wake him up.
“Hello, big brother. Are you awake?” Jared recognizes the voice and grunts in answer. “I called and called-”
“Megan, what time is it?” He finally finds his voice to interrupt her.
“Time to talk to your sister.” Megan cheerfully informs and Jared is not wake enough to retort.
Eyes closed, Jared continues grunting, “It’s my day off, and I’m planning to get my beauty sleep. Are you dying?”
“Noo,” Megan answers, frown coloring her voice.
“Then, it can wait until I fully wake up.” Jared concludes.
“Hey, don’t hang up on me. Teenagers tend to commit suicide if they’re not paid attention to.” Megan screams, understanding of her loss making her sound slightly desperate.
“Call you later,” Jared mumbles before switching the phone off, turning to sprawl on his stomach across the bed, sighing contently, and falling back to sleep.
Jared wakes up four hours later feeling fresh and hungry.
He hits a shower, fills his stomach with food, moaning happily between the bites, and only after, calls his sister.
“Hey, Megan.” Jared says and beams as his gaze catches a bag of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen countertop.
“Hello. Who is this?” Megan says dryly on the other side of line.
Jared pulls a face, munching on the cookies, “Megan, please stop.”
“Stop what, mister? Do I even know you?” Pure innocence in Megan’s voice is well played.
Jared smiles, despite himself, while moving into the living room, “I had a really bad day at work, and I needed to get some sleep in order to function. Besides, I’m your only family, and you love me.”
Megan sounds playfully embarrassed on his behalf, “Weak, dude. And did you forget that we also have a father?”
“The man I haven’t seen for about twenty years?” Jared slumps down on the couch, bag in his lap, and turns the TV on, flipping through the channels.
“Still, he’s not ass enough to not send the money, like for this college thing which we couldn’t afford.” Megan sing-songs, and Jared huffs in answer.
“Yeah-yeah, he’s a real sweetheart and a life savior.”
Jared hears some background murmuring, and he wonders if it’s a family thing to watch some crap show while talking on the phone, “No, you are the only life savior in this family. How many lives did you save since the last time we talked?”
“And you need this information, why?” Jared rolls the possible answers in his head.
“Hey, I told you to slip my number to every hot, straight guy you save. They owe you.” Yes, this was an answer #2.
Jared’s voice is full of resolve. “No. And no.”
“Hey, just because it failed once with your ex-boyfriend, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work. Your ex was a loser to begin with, and I don’t know why you saved him in the first place.” Megan never liked the guy, but Jared always cringes hearing her talking about him this way.
“That’s a mean thing to say, Megan Padalecki.” Jared says while deciding to settle on watching South Park. It’s not like Megan is here to proclaim what a perverse message it sends to the kids. And it’s not like there are any kids to pop up to bear witness to her.
“I’m a mean person. Go on.” Jared can easily imagine Megan shrugging his words off.
Jared thinks he should feel insulted on his ex-boyfriend’s behalf, “Hey, Zach is not a bad guy. We just didn’t work out.”
“I bet he was bad at giving head, wasn’t he?” This immediately shifts Jared’s attention off the TV.
“What? Shut up!” Jared gasps in indignation.
“Hey, don’t be a prude; it’s me feeling for you, brother.” Megan pauses, and Jared gives her time to change the topic of conversation. “Now, c’mon, was he?”
“I’m ending this call before you lose a brother.”
“Just because I’m the only one getting laid in this family-,” and that’s Jared’s final cue to end this conversation.
“Bye, Megan. I still love you. Don’t do drugs.”
Jared hurriedly puts his cell phone away and tries to forget the talk by busying his mouth with cookies and turning the TV’s volume up, forcing himself to concentrate on Eric Cartman’s problems.
Jensen gets a call when he burns the blue folder in the kitchen sink watching the papers turning into the ashes.
The cell phone identifies the number as an unknown caller, and Jensen’s lips form a half grin, while he leans against the kitchen counter and stretches his legs before answering.
“Hello, Chief Ray.” Jensen uses his cool, business-like voice, keeping his crooked smile from slipping into his tone.
“Jensen, good day. Please report.” The man is one of the specialists nobody dares to mess with, and such informality as calling everyone, including the top management, by their first name is one of the things the agency lets him get away with.
“Things are going according to plan, sir.” For now, this is all Jensen can provide him with. As to removing the bugs, Jensen is assured the man has already been informed, and if he did find that unacceptable, Jensen would have surely known by now.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
The click of dead line indicates the end of conversation.
Jared plans to spend his whole day off constructively - sprawled out on the couch in front of TV, not willing to leave the house in case some dead man wishes to mess with Jared’s day off.
Jared orders pizza over the phone, promising to pay extra for quick delivery.
The minute there’s a knock and shout of “pizza delivery” behind the door, Jared barefooted hurries to open the door - the only obstacle between him and his food - and welcomes, with a huge smile, the short guy in red uniform holding two boxes.
Jared quickly pays the guy, takes the boxes, and opens the upper one to stick his head into, “Man, this is amazing.”
The delivery guy smiles in answer, “Enjoy, dude. And thanks for extra.”
After the guy leaves, Jared, arms full, plans to kick the door shut with his foot, when the door across the hall opens and an unknown guy walks out, holding empty boxes in his hands.
“Hey,” says Jared automatically and shuts up because he needs a moment to take in the way this guy looks.
Jared lets himself have a few seconds of pure admiration, wondering how his eyes can be so unbelievably green and his lips so sinfully full, noticing that on top of that, the guy is tall and well built.
Jared swallows hard and tries to stop staring, commanding his brain to kick in.
Balancing the boxes in one hand, Jared stretches out his spare hand offering a handshake, grinning brightly because he can’t help himself, “Hey, you must be my new neighbor. I’m Jared.”
The guy puts the empty boxes down to answer with a firm handshake, lips stretched in a polite smile, “Jensen. Yeah, I just moved in.”
Jared’s smile gets wider, dimples shown, and he comments brightly, “It’s a nice place. You’ll love it.” His gaze falls down on the boxes. “Hey, man, do you need a help with those?”
Jensen declines his offer with a light shrug of his shoulders, “No, I’m good, thanks. Enjoy your pizza. It will get cold if you don’t start paying it attention.”
He pointedly looks at the boxes in Jared’s hand, and Jared’s gaze follows his.
Jared’s next words leave his mouth before he has time to consider them, “Hey, are you hungry? I’ve got two pizzas, and I don’t mind a little help with finishing them.” Jared grins at the guy.
“You look like a big enough boy to eat them all,” Jensen points out - the same polite smile in place - while shifting uncomfortably and looking down as if he plans to pick up the boxes and end the conversation.
Jared blindly takes a step forward, sounding sincere, “No, I’d really love you to join me.” This catches Jensen’s attention; his gaze intensely fixes on Jared as if he’s trying to read him. Jared openly meets green eyes, his breath unexpectedly hitching for a moment before he continues with a hopeful smile, “You just moved in, and you need to start making new friends. And I promise you, I’m not some serial killer or something.” Jared puts his palm over his heart and tries to look as friendly and non-threatening as possible. “Cross my heart.”
Jared catches a shift in Jensen’s eyes before Jensen sobers up, giving him an unreadable stare.
“Okay, but this doesn’t mean I have to provide you with the same promise, right?! I swear the axe and knifes I’m keeping in my kitchen are for Top Chef Contest,” Jensen declares sincerely, nodding, before he moves the boxes inside the apartment (actually kicking them in) and swiftly closes the door.
Jared watches him with an amused and smug smile, “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”
Jensen gives his a piercing glance before answering in a flat tone, and Jared is dumfounded, can’t distinguish if Jensen is serious or not.
“And here I thought I finally found myself a damsel in distress. But no, every girl considers herself a feminist these days.” Jensen shakes his head in disappointment, and Jared exclaims “shut up”, his ears burning.
Jensen looks smug, hand pointing towards Jared’s apartment. “Lead on, neighbor”.
Jared looks at him for a moment, eyes gleaming with something close to admiration, before he turns away with a fond murmur of “bastard”.
Jared steps inside the apartment and puts the pizzas down on the coffee table in front of the couch, glancing over his shoulder to check if Jensen followed him.
Jensen is busy looking around the place with curiosity, bantering put aside, “Pretty nice. You live here alone?”
“Yeah, I do. Um, I started living here right after college. It’s not big, but I like it. And they have those big windows, almost to the bottom of the floor. I don’t know if your apartment is similar to mine-,” Jared shares, eyes following whatever direction Jensen’s gaze lands.
“Wait,” Jensen’s gaze snaps back to Jared, “were you as friendly with the previous owner of my apartment with this information?”
Gotcha. Jared scratches the back of his head, embarrassment coloring his features, “Not really. She was an old lady who loved her three cats.”
“She denied your attempts at being friendly?” Jensen asks pitifully.
And here they go again.
Jared catches friendly mocking in Jensen’s tone, and his eyes crease in amusement, taking up the challenge.
“No, she was completely charmed by me, and I didn’t want to get her hopes up by hanging inside her apartment.
Not that she didn’t have a chance, but her cats hated me,” Jared explains, sighing soulfully, before his stomach chooses this moment to growl.
“You poor thing. Now, let’s get some food in you, Prince Charming. I will provide my shoulder to cry on later,” Jensen arches one eyebrow, moving toward the coffee table, and Jared gives him a pathetically grateful look - he is starving.
That makes Jensen smirk, and Jared can’t get rid of the stupid grin on his face while they take places on the couch, shoulders accidentally bumping into each other.
Jared glances sideways at Jensen while opening up the boxes and offering the first slice to Jensen, murmuring, “I hope your beliefs have nothing against the mushrooms”.
Jensen shrugs him off with simple “Dream on. It looks cute on you”, grabbing the slice, and Jared’s gaze fixes on his mouth for a moment before he catches himself and shifts his attention to biting into his own slice, moaning in pleasure.
“Why are we watching this again?” Jensen says as he turns away from Peter Parker jumping over the buildings to frown at Jared.
“We need to be fully prepared for comparing when the reboot movie comes out.” Jared says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, shrugging.
“Of course,” Jensen comments dryly, and Jared beams when Jensen turns his gaze back to screen, seeming to give Peter Parker a second chance.
“Still,” Jensen let the words hang in the air, facing Jared, and Jared gives Jensen his unhappy face predicting his unpleasant follow-up, “how will this knowledge help me if I’m not planning to watch the reboot movie?”
“Blasphemy,” Jared gasps, tugging at Jensen’s sleeve, “Take your words back!”
Jensen grins at him and pointedly keeps silent.
“You and me are gonna be at the front of the line at the movie’s premiere.” Jared points a threatening finger at him. “End of discussion.”
“I demand a huge bucket of popcorn, nachos and cola,” Jensen ticks off points on his fingers.
“Deal,” Jared answers promptly, smiling in victory.
They shake hands firmly, satisfied and content.
The next five minutes they spend in silence watching Peter Parker saving the world.
Some thought is bugging Jared and the minute Mary Jane is on the screen with no sign of Spiderman around, Jared lets the thought run further in his head.
Realization makes him gasp in shock.
“You tricked me into buying as you were planning to go all along,” Jared states the fact, looking wounded.
Jensen’s face takes an unpleasant expression. He fidgets on the couch and takes a minute of consideration.
“Every guy has been into super heroes since kindergarten,” he gives his version of excuse which implies Jared is the one to blame for not realizing such elementary things.
Jared’s face still looks sad and disappointed.
“The tickets are on me?” Jensen offers helplessly.
Jared smiles in agreement, and the next moment, it just hits him.
How good they are together.
Jensen leaves Jared’s apartment two hours later with a smile on his face that he wipes off the minute he closes the door behind himself.
Jensen dials a number and counts to five before the voice on the other end picks up. As usual.
“Spit it out,” the husky voice with a southern accent says in greeting.
“You’re so predictable, Christian,” Jensen drawls instead of answering. “Always have to re-check caller ID to make sure it’s not fake.”
“It has saved my ass more times than I can count, boy. Now, how is your asset doing?” Jensen hears the click sound indicating Christian typing on the keyboard and probably trying to hack someone’s security system.
“Smooth as expected. Boy is pretty easy.” Jensen shares the information as Christian is the only person close enough to Jensen for being labeled as a semi-trusted.
“Hmm. Easy?” Christian treats Jensen’s last word with a suspicion. ”Easy on the eye as well? I saw his picture.”
Jensen quirks his eyebrow as he opens the fridge, eyes scanning for beer, “I’m not even gonna comment on you breaking into the secret files, man. But since when do I mix business with pleasure?”
Christian sighs as if the answer should be obvious, and Jensen gets ready for Christian’s ‘get-this-out-in-the-open’ speech, “Answering your first question, all I needed was a name and that wasn’t hard to get in order to look him up. Welcome to the modern world! Everyone is pimping themselves on the social networks which is familiar to you as you are the one always bitching about the primitiveness of privacy settings. As to the second part, just be careful. It’s not your usual assignment. You and this guy are in the same boat after all.”
Jensen pops the cap off a beer with his ring and takes a swig from the bottle before answering, “Thanks for your concern, mommy. I’m glad we shared our feelings. Now, back to business. I need a favor.” Christian’s “of course” is loud enough for Jensen to hear. “Being the techno geek that you are, I’m sure you can come up with a nice bug for me to plant inside Jared’s apartment.”
After a brief moment of silence, Christian’s fingers are back to typing on the keyboard, “Why didn’t you ask the agency for it?
Jensen considers his options before going for the truth, “Chief Ray was pretty clear on keeping Padalecki’s apartment clear.”
Christian’s smirk is evident in his voice, “Still, here you are asking me to do exactly the opposite.”
“With my ass on the line, I prefer to stick to my opinion on the subject, not the execs’,” Jensen explains, trying to keep the exasperating notes out of his voice, his fingers worrying the beer label.
“I hear you.” Christian sounds as composed and efficient as any other agent before his next words give away someone close to Jensen, “I’ll come up with something pretty for a pretty boy like you.”
“Ass,” comes Jensen’s prompt reply, “No wonder the agency locked you alone in that basement of yours you call your office.”
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Ackles.” Christian chuckles. “Gotta go. Will check with you soon. End of session. Bye.”
“Bye,” says Jensen, but the line is already dead.
Typical, thinks Jensen, throat working as he swallows the last of his beer.
Jared’s alarm clock wakes him up at 8:00 AM.
Jared cracks one eye open as his hand fumbles to press the stop button and commands himself to get up.
The next time Jared opens his eyes, the clock indicates 8:49 AM, and Jared’s mind and body are suddenly alert and sober.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Jared hisses as he stumbles out of bed, searching for his pants.
Seven minutes after, Jared revs the car’s engine, early autumn heat of Boston turning the car into the hell on a wheel, as Jared waits for the AC to kick on.
Passing one block and getting stuck in traffic, T-shirt sticking to his body, Jared contemplates the appealing idea of hitting his head against the steering wheel while a musty damp smell fills the car. Jared doesn’t need to check to understand that AC is broken.
It’s one of those days.
The cool temperature of the morgue is a blessing, and Jared sighs happily, stepping inside.
Chad welcomes him with a hard glare and poking into his chest, “You’re late.”
“Hey,” Jared exclaims and ducks out, rubbing his chest, “did anyone tell you that you have boney fingers?”
Chad gives him a suspicious look, “Were you partying last night and I wasn’t invited? At least two of us looking worse than our clients wouldn’t be considered offensive to them.”
“How is that offensive?” Jared asks reflexively before his brain kicks in to inform his that he doesn’t want to know.
“Well, they look better than you, and still, they are the ones who are dead,” Chad explains, the duh coloring his tone.
Jared looks at Chad for a long moment, baffled, offering Chad time to give him another reason, which Chad ignores, looking at Jared with the same expression.
Jared shakes his head and starts walking down the hall towards the coffee machine, Chad tagging alone.
Jared places the cup and presses the espresso button, waiting for the machine to brew him a perfect coffee, while Chad looks at him expectantly.
“I was late, and I had no time for showering or breakfast for that matter. End of story,” Jared deadpans.
“You had a day off,” Chad insists. “C’mon, spill the beans, dude! I always tell you all the dirty secrets of my off days.”
“Remember me asking you not to?” Jared points out, not looking Chad’s way as his hand carefully reaches for the cup and brings it against his lips.
The smell and taste of coffee brings a smile to Jared’s lips.
“I’m not holding it against you, dude.” Chad offers genially. “Now, tell me, were there strippers involved?”
“It was just me and my new neighbor, okay?” Jared sighs and concentrates on sipping the coffee, eyes closed, but green eyes and bright smile is the image he sees behind his close eyelids.
“Judging by your blissful smile and you playing for another team, I bet twenty bucks that it was some hot guy,” Chad nods, leering.
“Shuddup,” Jared groans. “I need a sandwich and a new co-worker.”
“So, he was hot then.” Chad concludes as if he wasn’t interrupted, smirking up at him. “Don’t worry, you’re allowed to gross me out with every detail of your yesterday exercises.”
Chad makes air quotes, and Jared snaps his gaze away, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. It’s his way to nirvana.
“Did they bring a new client?” Jared asks, tipping his cup and finishing the rest of his coffee.
Jared puts the empty cup aside and starts walking towards the crypt where they keep the bodies.
“Yep,” Chad miraculously follows Jared’s changed topic. “Something new and shiny for your inner Sherlock to investigate.”
“I’m a forensics attendant, Chad, not a private detective,” Jared clarifies while he moves inside the crypt.
“He is a crime solver!” Chad exclaims, sounding offended.
Jared glances back to find Chad leaning back against the doorpost, arms crossed, chin raised defiantly.
“The name, Chad?
“Holmes. Sherlock Holmes.” Chad declares solemnly.
Jared looks puzzled for a brief moment, glancing towards the vaults and back before understanding kicks in, “The victim’s, Chad.”
Chad’s facial expression turns from perplexity into slight embarrassment in a matter of seconds, “Oh. Her name is Julie Tate. Fifteen years old. Broke her neck by falling down the stairs at approximately 9PM last night.”
Jared’s face falls, and he steps towards the Julie’s vault, “Accident?”
“Her step-dad helped,” Chad’s voice is almost dripping with venom.
Jared huffs in disgust, and then, he hears something.
“Help,” female voice calls, quiet enough only for Jared hear. “Help”.
Jared’s face turns concentrated and detached as he opens Julie’s vault, pulling out the body.
Young blonde girl opens up her blue eyes, turning her head to look at Jared and whispers urgently, “Help me!”
Jared’s cell phone is buzzing and he grunts, waking up, the understanding of being back to a rewritten day catching up with him as his hand fishes for a cell phone in his jacket.
Jared remembers how this conversation begins and he lets his eyes stay closed for a few more seconds, with Megan’s voice cheerfully informing in his ear, “Hello, big brother. Are you awake? I called and called. You could at least pick up for a change.”
That was Jared’s few seconds.
He snaps his eyes open and rolls out of bed, the face of Julie Tate is the only thing he is concentrated on.
“Megan, I’m sorry, but I gotta go. I promise I’d call you later. Love you, sis. Bye.” Jared slips remorse and sincerity into his tone, before he ends the call and lets the outside world step away, his mind fixing on only one task as this is how it usually works.
Jared quickly takes a shower, shovels down some breakfast, and flops down on the couch before opening his laptop.
Modern technologies are your best friend and worst enemy. In order to get more friends, people forget about safety and open up themselves for anything life might throw their way.
Jared’s fingers are clattering over the keys, moving surely and fast over the keyboard, while his eyes check the pages. Facebook gives away four Julie Tate’s living in Boston.
Jared checks their profile pictures and the second time is a charm.
Julie’s wall is open for everyone, the last update was made fifteen minutes earlier, “Bored out of my mind. Professor D. is dull, draggy and a dimwit.”
Jared chuckles softly. The girl is a smartass, he will give her that.
Julie’s high school is the next information he needs. Jared writes the information on the napkin - the first thing his fingers come across on the table in front of him, and then, he closes his laptop.
Jared on mission is a guy who doesn’t take chances on anything, preferring to keep information stored into his brain and on paper as back up.
A black suit with the white shirt and black tie is Jared’s choice for today. He rummages through the bedroom drawer before picking the corresponded fake ID.
One year in the field teaches you some tricks.
Jared snatches his keys from the hall table on his way out, the sound of jingling keys is followed by the door slamming shut. Jared stomps down the stairs and into the September air.
Jared walks to Julie’s high school, the place is not far away, and Jared is not in the mood to deal with the traffic and broken air conditioner right now.
He takes a place at a café across the street, checking Julie’s Facebook page for updates on his cell phone.
An hour after, Julie’s new post “freedom for all”, makes him finish his coffee and toss twenty on a table before leaving.
Jared presses the doorbell button of Julie’s apartment ten minutes after she disappeared inside it.
Julie opens the door, cell phone smashed against her ear, “Sorry, will talk to you later. Some hot guy was delivered to my doorstep.”
“Yeees,” she drawls, giving him something she considers for a leering look.
“Social services.” He says, flashing his fake badge, and her face expression changes to troubled, “Julie Tate?”
She nods, biting her lip.
“We’ve been notified that you are having some problem with your stepfather.” Jared uses sincere tone, adding sympathy to the voice.
Julie’s face turns cold, words coming threatening, as much as it possible for a teenager, “You stay away from my dad. Who told you that? That dickhead who lives opposite us?” She raises her voice, stepping out to scream towards the neighbor door.
The next moment she lets out a shaky breath and continues with animosity, “My dad takes good care of me. He’s the only one left. Yes, we do fight. So what? Every family does.”
She sounds defensive and protective, no hint of fear giving her away as a victim of abuse.
“Okay, Julie,” Jared says amicably, spelling out her name to calm her, stepping back. “Thank you for cooperation and help. Sorry for bothering you.”
It gives her strength and courage, “Tell the other fuckers from the services not to come near my father or me.”
She shuts the door in his face, and Jared chuckles, impressed.
There’s another way to keep her from getting into trouble - keeping an eye on her. He plans to wait outside and come back before the clock strikes nine o’clock.
Jared watches people passing him and entering the apartment complex, and he wonders which one of them is Julie’s stepdad.
At 8:45 PM, Jared runs up the stairs, heart in his throat, listening to the screams from upstairs.
“You are not going anywhere! Do you hear me?” Male voice demands.
“I’m not five, okay?” Julie screams in answer.
“That boy is not good for you, Julie.” The man insists.
“It’s up to me to decide.”
Jared raises his head to witness Julie and a person who is obviously her stepfather engaged in a fight, standing on top of the stairs.
Jared is only one landing away from them.
Jared reaches Julie the moment her stepfather tries to stop her, catching her by the wrist. Julie jerks her hand out of his grasp and the next moment, she loses her balance and stumbles, falling down.
Jared has no time to think, he throws his body forward in attempt to catch her before she hits the stairs.
Half of an hour later, Jared bides his time to slip away before Julie’s stepdad welcomes him as a family member for saving his daughter.
“C’mon, dad. Don’t dramatize it. ” Julie rolls her eyes, “What’s the worst thing that could have happen? Me spraining my ankle?”
She turns to give Jared a smirk, “At least, now, I can say that Social Services is good for something.”
Jared gives her a polite smile and says nothing.
Every time he saves someone’s life, he feels worn out for hours as if every saved life sucks out a part of his own.
When Jared gets home, mind blank, climbing up the stairs, taking two steps at one time to get his body into the apartment before the exhaustion hits him, he crashes into Jensen.
Jensen is carrying two boxes in front of him, one above another, in an obvious attempt of moving them inside the apartment and wasn’t able to notice the danger named Jared that comes from his right side.
“Shit,” Jared hisses, he freezes on the spot before he trips the boxes over, hands flying to steady the wobbling boxes and holding onto them for dear life.
“Nice welcoming gesture, buddy,” Jensen bites out, and Jared turns his neck to the left, facing Jensen’s hostile gaze.
“Sorry, Je-,” Jared mumbles apologetically and bites his tongue before he remembers that they actually haven’t met yet.
The universe couldn’t pick another day for re-writing?
Jensen adds suspicion to his gaze which Jared meets with a genuine smile, letting Jensen’s eyes drill into his.
“Is there any chance that I don’t share the same floor with you?” Jensen sounds hopeful while he tries to shift the boxes in order to force Jared loosen his grip on them.
Jensen is not smooth, and Jared is determined to use all his chances and get back to the friendly interaction Jared achieved with Jensen in the first version of the day, so, he tightens his grip on the boxes.
“Sorry, man.” Jared doesn’t sound sorry at all, beaming at Jensen. “I’m Jared. My apartment is opposite yours.”
“Oh, joy,” Jensen says dryly and Jared tries not to wince.
This is not how Jared wants them to start their friendship; Jared wants them back to being something good.
They had it, and he wants it back.
“Let me help you with those,” Jared offers and snatches away both boxes, not waiting for an answer and moving inside the apartment and not glancing back at Jensen.
“Hey!” Jensen yells at his back.
“Where to put them?” Jared says, marching into the living room space.
“Right where you stand.” Jensen rushes to confirm behind him, not hiding his desire to keep Jared from going any further into his apartment.
Well, shit. Jared is not willing to budge on this subject.
“It says kitchen,” Jared says, bringing the box to his eye level, scrutinizing the writing, and after, he glances over his shoulder to show Jensen the box as proof, before intruding towards the kitchen and ignoring Jensen’s loud annoyed huff.
When Jared takes his first step into the kitchen, a drop of water lands on his forehead. Jared scrunches his face, looking above, and promptly stepping aside to let the next drop miss him.
“Argh,” Jared draws awkwardly, twisting his neck to look at bewildered Jensen.
“It’s raining in your kitchen?” He says somewhat hesitantly, predicting the unpleased reaction it will revoke.
Jensen’s lips start forming what when he follows Jared and steps right into the puddle of water on the floor, “Holy shit!”
Jared winces, watching the bottom edges of Jensen’s jeans getting wet and looks up to observe the big wet stain on the ceiling and water dripping down the walls.
Jared hmms and tries to cheer up Jensen’s mood, “Well, at least I’m not the one responsible for this flooding.”
Jensen shots him a dark look, and Jared smiles at him sweetly, “C’mon, man! It’s not that bad. I promise to be your wingman on you dates to your upstairs neighbor and our landlord.”
“Is there a reason someone didn’t strangle you in your sleep?” Jensen asks with unfeigned interest.
Jared sighs dramatically, putting his free hand against his chest, “No one ever had a chance to come that close to me. I was waiting only for you.” Jared intends to add “sweetheart”, but he’s not that suicidal.
Jensen’s lips tighten into a thin line and Jared tries to sober up, but Jensen is still the guy that laughed at Jared’s jokes, eye soft and crinkling at the corners.
And Jared can’t seem to switch into the mood of first time seeing Jensen when he was just a hot guy and Jared had no idea how his face lights up or his voice sounds when he talks about something he likes.
Jared pokes Jensen in the shoulder because tugging at his sleeve in affection seems like a wrong idea, “Now, c’mon, you need me. It’s okay; you don’t have to admit it now. I am willing to give you time.”
Jensen glares at Jared, rubbing his shoulder.
“Dude, I’m that close to hiring assassin to get rid of you.” Jensen says, holding out his thumb and forefinger dangerously close to each other. There’s less heat in his voice, and Jared can’t stop himself from giving Jensen a fond smile.
Jared puts the box aside on the counter where it is dry and turns to face Jensen, “It’s all part of my charm. Just wait and see. Now, let’s go and check on those dates I promised you.”
Jensen eyes him doubtfully before silently exiting the kitchen and Jared follows, biting the inside of his mouth to hide a soft smile.
Part Two