PRS AU fic: Change your name and come seek me; Part 6
Masterpost
One week later, Jensen bangs on Jared’s door carrying a pizza and a six pack of beer in his hands, and Jared makes a the mistake of opening it, “I googled how long you should wait till your significant other stops getting mad at you after you screwed up. Statistically, this is considered as an average time.” Jared gives him a hard look. “Please don’t hit me.” Jensen adds quickly.
“I hate you, just so we’re clear. Now leave.” Jared slams the door in Jensen’s face.
Jensen opens the door with his own key, barely balancing the boxes in his hands, “Well, that is very unfortunate, because I feel quite the opposite of hatred.” He pads into the kitchen and Jared hears him rummaging in the fridge as if he still has a right.
Indignantly so, nothing in Jared screams the opposite.
Jensen comes to stand close to Jared.
“We are out of milk.” He notifies Jared as if nothing happened, chewing on the cookie he apparently found in Jared’s stash.
“I am out of milk, not we.” Jared points out vehemently.
“Don’t focus on pronouns, Jared.” Jensen says with displeasure.
“I want to know what you’re doing here.” Jared says, insisting.
“Fair enough.” Jensen finishes the cookie and licks his fingers. Jared tries not to watch. “I came to conclusion that us being apart is stupid and impractical.
It’s not good for anyone. We both feel the same for each other, and it makes perfect sense to put the useless blame and fighting aside and start doing what we’re good at. Being together.”
Jared looks at him, frustrated and hating himself for asking, “You are killing people I want to save. Are you planning to continue doing this?”
“Yes,” Jensen looks puzzled. “But it’s just our jobs. Why do you keeping pressing this issue?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Jared asks, disbelieving, but Jensen just shrugs and evidently waits for Jared’s positive answer.
“Just get out!” Jared screams, jumping to open the door wide, looking pointedly at Jensen, eyes flaring.
Jensen blinks at him, puzzled, and then, he goes into the kitchen and returns with a box of chocolate chip cookies.
“So, tell me how it works?” He shoves his hand down into the box, looking at Jared expectedly as if he is preparing for a big revelation.
“What?” Jared asks tiredly. He thinks he might cry.
“I don’t have any experience with falling in love with someone, so I need your knowledge on that matter. What should I do to-,” he searches for the right word before he settles, “-to woo you back?”
“What?” Jared looks at him incredulously.
Jensen is not joking, Jared understands that, but still, he feels obligated to give explanation to this asshole, “You don’t get to do that. You can’t act that shitty to someone and then, expect him to love you back.”
“Why not? People make mistakes all the time. It’s not like I start World War II or anything.” Jensen frowns, biting into the cookie, displeased with Jared not willing to cooperate.
Jared stares at him with resentment, “No, you just can’t do that. Let me bury your hopes right away. I’m not forgiving you. I don’t trust you. Knock that into that thick skull of yours.”
“So, that means you’re not gonna help me then.” At Jared’s glare he continues, “Well, then I have to warn you, I don’t know the rules of wooing, so expect some major fuck-ups.” Jensen gives him a blank stare as if his warning of washing his hands off should be accepted.
Jared shakes his head in disbelief and spits, “Fuck you, Jensen.”
“I’ll be working toward that direction, thank you,” Jensen takes the box away with him, leaving Jared with an improper impression like Jared is the one acting immature here.
The next morning starts suspiciously silent, and Jared eyes Jensen’s door when he leaves for work.
At the traffic light, Jared hums to the music from the stereo when he catches the sight of the street’s huge banner. Black ink on the white background insists: Jared, please come back to me. J.
Jared’s smile slips from his lips, and he has a horrible, horrible thought that his block is not the only one decorated with such a huge, ostentatious banner.
Jared catches the sight of five more banners - sliding down lower in his seat as if people will find out he is a reason for this offence - before he finds salvation in the morgue.
Chad welcomes him squeaking. Of course, he is.
“Oh, my God, this is amazing. This is the most romantic gesture I’ve ever seen anyone perform, including my cousin stealing the fluffy cuffs for his fiancé,” Chad gives him a squeeze which Jared awkwardly accepts. “I’m so happy for you. He’s such an achiever. Did you gift him with morning sex in appreciation?” Chad grins too enthusiastically for Jared’s liking.
“No,” Jared says grudgingly, freeing himself from Chad’s arms.
“No? What does that mean, no?” Chad looks as if Jared just told him that Santa isn’t real. “Did you have a fight or something? Is this his way of caving and crawling back to you? This is a perfect, I approve. Act like you are an abused partner and then, demand diamonds before generously forgiving him after.”
Jared says nothing.
“Oh, my God,” Chad has his hand against his mouth in shock, eyes watering, “Did he? Did he cheat on you? The bastard!”
Jared looks at him, paralyzed, wanting to be pulled out of this conversation immediately, “No! Stop Harlequin’ing our relationship. Are you sure you are not gay?”
“You’re not gonna corrupt this perfect romance for me, Jared. Even if he’s an emotionless robot most of time, when he’s with you, he’s-,” Chad fishes for right words, hand waving.
“He’s less of an asshole than usual?” Jared supplies and Chad glares at him.
“He has feelings, okay?” Chad cuts him short.
On the way home, the banners keep mocking Jared, the radio talks about some girl or guy named J who is obviously in love with Jared, isn’t it perfect, and isn’t Jared such a lucky guy? Romance is not dead and yada, yada, yada.
Like he hadn’t got enough of that romantic crap during his day.
Megan calls in the middle of the day to scream into his ear, “I’m gonna be a bridesmaid in your wedding,” and Jared pointedly hangs up on her.
Jared’s old pal that he hasn’t seen for a long time suddenly decided to drop a call wondering how he is, and then, prods him with “have you seen those banners, Jared? How many Jared’s do you know live in Boston?”
Jared politely says bye, and not, you know, screw you.
After, when the dreadful thought of receiving a call from his father pops up in Jared’s head, he switches his phone off.
Jared slams open Jensen’s door, feeling violent and revengeful.
Jensen looks fresh from the shower - naked toes and damp hair, appearing somewhat vulnerable, and looking like Jared's Jensen- and for a moment Jared forgets why he should be pissed in the first place, but it passes, serving to spike his blood with more rage.
“You need to stop this shit, take the damn banners off the streets!” Jared yells.
“This is indisputable,” Jensen gives him a hard stubborn stare, jaw set.
“You don’t even understand what you’re doing, okay? You don’t get it!” Jared restrains himself from hitting Jensen, fists curling at his sides.
“I do.” Jensen frowns, eyebrows drawn together, “I-,
I-” he stutters, picking the right words.
“What?” Jared bites out, “Love me?” This time, he uses the words to hurt Jensen, “What do you even know about it? You’ve never loved anyone but yourself.”
Jensen flinches. It works.
“You’re wrong. Not with you,” Jensen says hollowly, disbelief in his eyes.
And it touches Jared more than it should.
“Get the fuck out of my life, Jensen!” Jared hisses, grabbing Jensen by his shirt’s lapels and slamming him against the nearest wall for a good measure.
“And go where?” Jensen asks quietly, looking lost and broken, but Jared is not done with hurting him.
His face is close to Jensen’s, chests heaving against each other, and he pays no attention to their frantic heart beats. Jared’s eyes bore into Jensen until Jensen’s eyelashes flutter down.
Jared looks at Jensen’s closed eyes with grim satisfaction and hisses into
Jensen’s ear, “Watch me not give a flying fuck about this.”
Jared comes home and feels sick. He left all the venom in Jensen’s apartment, but it doesn’t get easier to breathe. He bites his lip to keep from crying, feeling fragile and just done.
Jared looks around helplessly, eyes filled with tears, searching for something he can’t put a name to and for someone he shouldn’t. Jared lets out a shuttering breath and decides to take a walk in the park to breathe out his pain.
The park is all but empty. There is only one couple cuddling on a bench, hidden in the darkness as the street light ignores the part of the bench they occupy, and it tugs at Jared’s heart.
Jared averts his gaze from them and decides to walk deeper into the park, under the shadows where the bushes can hide him from everyone, darkness an additional cover.
Jared turns down a narrow path where no one can see him.
He takes a few steps when a male voice “don’t move” startles him. Jared freezes when a blunt object is pressed into his spine.
“Give me your money,” shaking voice says.
“Shit,” Jared mouths, his mind calculating his chances of turning and knocking the gun out of the guy’s hands, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness while he bides time.
“Are you sure it’s a gun in your hand and not a candy bar,” Jared draws the words, aiming for a friendly voice and barely managing to keep the fear out of his voice while his mind is on the edge of panic.
“Shut up! Give me your money!” The guy spits out, and the gun barrel - it is obviously a gun - is pressed deeper into his back. Jared swallows thickly.
“Jared!” There’s a familiar voice, and the sounds of running steps approaching them. The voice belongs to Jensen.
Jared’s heart stops for a brief moment, and then, it starts beating like crazy.
Jared fights not to lose the ground under his feet, pushing down the rising bile in his throat, feeling cold chills running down his spine.
NO. NO. NO. Jensen! He will turn around the corner and then- It’s too dark for Jensen to see properly.
“Jensen, no!” Jared screams desperately. Jensen needs to stay away!
“This is a trap!” The voice shrieks at the same time into Jared’s ear, gun barrel twitching.
“Jared,” it’s Jensen.
He wasn’t supposed to be that close.
Jared spins around blindly, heart in his throat.
The gun fires, and it lights up the darkness for a brief moment.
Like a snapshot, Jared catches the face of an unknown guy who is running away and abruptly, Jared falls down-
Because Jensen does it first.
Jared grabs Jensen into his arms, his lips trembling.
“That was stupid. This is not happening,” They both lie on the cold ground, and Jared can’t seem to comprehend which one of them is shaking more. “This is not happening.”
“I’m calling 911,” he hears himself saying, hand fumbling for the cell phone in his jacket pocket.
Jared watches Jensen’s green eyes, sheer fear tightening his chest.
“Jensen,” he calls desperately, not knowing what he’s asking, “Jensen.”
Jensen blinks up at him. “Does it count-,” Jensen barely manages to get out the words, fighting for breath with each one, and Jared holds his breath to catch them, “-count that I love you more than myself?”
Something violent snaps inside Jared.
“This is not happening, Jensen, okay?” Jared insists angrily, palm pressed tightly against Jensen’s chest to stop this thing, avoiding thoughts of why his hand immediately gets wet.
Jensen doesn’t answer, his gaze frozen, and Jared jerks his head in denial. But nothing changes.
“Jensen,” Jared prods, voice hoarse.
Jared stares at Jensen for a minute, hands digging into Jensen’s flesh while it feels like his breath gradually leaves every cell of his body, eyes watering.
“Call for me!” He remembers, a drop of hope adding to the massive amount of despair. “Just call for me! Like everyone does. Call for me, you insensitive asshole.”
Jensen’s lifeless eyes remain the same. And it’s just not fair. This should not have happened.
Jared’s throat is tight, an uncontrollable sob finds its way to the surface, and Jared pushes down any other cries.
“I hate you,” Jared screams. “Can’t you just do this little thing for me?! Call for me!”
He takes another chance to threaten Jensen because this bastard is not leaving him.
Jared’s fingers recall dialing 911, and his mouth forces out the address through the gritted teeth, but Jared’s eyes are fixed on Jensen.
His cell phone slips down from his fingers to the ground, and Jared pays it no attention as it has lost its value.
Jensen is silent, and Jared keeps using his anger as a shield.
“They’ll be here soon.” He informs Jensen sternly, not caring to point out who they are, “I advise you to open your stupid mouth and say ‘help me’. Everyone does. Why can’t you?”
Jensen is stubborn and determined, and Jared can’t lose him because of that.
Jared presses his palm harder against Jensen’s heart; it’s not beating. It’s wet and sticky, and this is when Jared realizes they are not going to be okay. “It’s not beating, Jensen. Did I finally break it?” He whispers, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Why. Can’t. You. Wake up?” He repeats slowly in a broken voice, eyes glassy.
When Jared’s lips touch Jensen’s, they find warmth, and Jared hopes that it means something.
Jared’s body sags on the ground, tightening his embrace around Jensen in a senseless hope to warm him.
Jared passes out.
Jared wakes up to the voices and sounds, everything is unfamiliar and alien. Jared screams when he realizes that Jensen is not in his arms.
It’s still dark when Jared opens his eyes in the hospital, white walls and blinding light, numbness holding his body.
Megan stands by his bed, her eyes red.
Jared looks at her, focusing his gaze and licking his cracked lips, “Where is Jensen?”
“Jared-,” Megan’s voice sounds strange, scraping across his ears. She gives him a look of sorrow, and he feels disgusted.
“Where is Jensen?” He insists, snapping his gaze away, not willing to look at her, fingers tightening the covers into the fists.
“Jared-,” she whispers his name like it should fix things, “Jensen is gone.”
Jared’s brain doesn’t find a clue behind this information.
What the hell does it mean? Gone? What does it mean? Gone where?
What a stupid meaningless word, Jensen won’t like this one.
Jared jerks his head violently to level her with a look, eyes flaring with anger.
“Megan, where is he? Can you tell me where the stupid guy who could not stay in his stupid apartment and followed me is?”
She shakes her head, lips trembling.
Jared’s throat is sore, but he finds strength to croak, “Where is the bastard?”
“Jensen is dead. Jared, I’m sorry-,” She starts crying.
“Get out!” He hisses.
Jared bites his lips and determinedly turns to the other side to fix his gaze on the wall. She leaves and he stays mute until they give him a needle to put him to sleep.
Jared wakes up in his own bed. He jerks up and realization makes his head spin. This is it. This is the bed in his apartment. He’s back. He doesn’t know how but the day was re-written; he has been given a chance to fix this. To save Jensen.
Jared’s hand searches for his cell phone to confirm the date, and he breathes out slowly as if not to scare it away, checking the numbers on the screen.
He’s back. He’s back to yesterday, the day that will never happen again. He needs to find Jensen.
Jared throws off the covers and slips on some clothes.
He stumbles across the hall, trying to move faster as everything seems to go in slow motion. Jared’s legs feel weak and aren’t carrying him fast enough to Jensen’s apartment.
Jared doesn’t bother with knocking. He uses his key to swing open the door and calls out to Jensen, searching through the apartment.
He stands in the middle of apartment, feeling dizzy and sick, trying to get things under control.
Jared’s brain urges him to use his cell phone, and he pulls it out with shaking fingers. Jared’s fingers feel numb dialing Jensen’s number, and Jared stares at it dumbly.
He calls and calls, but no one answers. Jared’s mind won’t accept that, dialing again and again, fingers twitching. Jared wants to break stupid answering machine.
He saved Jensen, he only needs to find him and protect him from anything that might threaten him. Jared needs to forgive him and keep him safe for the rest of their lives.
This is Jared’s plan. It all seems so simple.
Jensen only needs to be found.
Jared leaves four messages.
The first one is whirl of emotions, fear and hope, and softness because he loves Jensen so much, and he doesn’t want to explain it to a soulless answering machine, “Jensen, it’s Jared. Where are you? I’m waiting in your apartment. Come back and I’ll explain everything to you. We are okay. I just need you to be here. Please? I’m waiting.”
The second one is ten minutes later when Jared realizes that he needs to give more of an explanation, because Jensen doesn’t know how things changed, “I really, really need you here. Jensen, you need to come right now. You have to.”
The third one is half of hour later when Jared drives himself insane - nervously pacing through the rooms - he needs to convince Jensen how important this is, “You died today. You died, and I won’t bare it. I won’t accept it. This is new day, a new day where you end up alive and safe, and with me. Just call me. Please!”
Another half of hour passes and Jared is beyond out of his mind with worry, biting his nails and even calling his father to leave a message on another answering machine, “This is Jared. Whatever you do, make sure Jensen stays alive. Do everything to keep him alive. I’m begging you.”
Then, Jared leaves another message to Jensen, voice wavering, “I love you, you know?! I love you so damn much. Please, just come see me.”
Jared calls Chad to ask him if he’s heard of Jensen, Chad frowns and disaffirms, asking Jared if he plans to show up. Jared says “no” and ends the call.
Jared leaves Jensen a post-it note on the fridge, “Went looking for you. Just let me know where you are. I’ll be back soon. Wait for me.”
Jared has a whole day before the darkness falls down and he intends to use every moment.
Jared goes to Jensen’s favorite grocery store first, planning to check every place they ever visited.
Jared comes home three hours later, worn out and anxious, figuring out where to look for Jensen in the next hours in his head. As he approaches their block, his heart skips a beat.
Something is wrong, there are police cars and an ambulance, and policemen ask the crowd to stay back, making a space in front of their house.
Jared can’t find his breath.
He launches forward, breaking free from one policeman, and running up the stairs, ignoring protests.
There is a guy coming out of Jensen’s apartment with a yellow streamer that says, "Police line. Do not cross.” Jared reads it dumbly and pushes his way inside.
“Hey!” Someone is holding him and there are too many people, and what are they all doing in Jensen’s apartment? Jared wants tell them to get the fuck out before Jensen comes.
“What happened?” his mouth lets out.
“Did you know Mr. Ackles?” A guy in a blue uniform asks. Jared can’t see his face, everything is blurred, and his gaze is fixed at the guy’s shoulder, feeling edgy of him using the past tense.
“This is my friend’s place. This is my Jensen’s place. What are you doing here?” Words said in a rushed, irritating voice.
“Are you friend of Mr. Ackles?” The guy asks.
Jared looks around the apartment, eyes searching, voice slow and distracted when he continues, nodding in affirmation, “I’m a friend of my Jensen, yes. He’ll be back soon.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“He’ll be back soon,” Jared repeats stubbornly and shifts his gaze back at the man.
The blue uniform moves, voice turning sympathetic, and Jared tries to fix his gaze in attempt to read his name tag, “There was a mugger, breaking into the apartment. He was on drugs and looking for money.” There’s a shrieking voice in Jared’s head, ‘give me the money,’ and Jared shakes his head in denial, chasing the image away. “We’ve found post-it note ‘I’m back’ pinned to the front door. Mr. Ackles was obviously waiting for someone.”
“He was waiting for me.” Jared explains, nodding. “I’m supposed to save him.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” There’s a pause and blue uniform shifts.
“Sir, do you need help?”
Jared stares, but he sees nothing through the blur, words are muffled sounds to his ears.
“Will you be okay?” And Jared understands this one.
Jared thinks for a moment, lips curling with sorrow.
“No.” Jared answers sincerely. “When will you leave?”
“Uh, we need to do some work. Can you give us some time here?” Jared doesn’t really understand a word, but he raises his eyes and stares at blue uniform.
“I’m sorry.” The guy repeats.
Jared blinks at him and averts his gaze to look at the post-it notes onto the fridge, “I need some things from here.”
“I apologize, sir, but this is evidence.” The voice strives to be comforting. Jared finds it odd.
Jared shifts his weight from one leg to another, gaze frowning, “I’m sorry, does it mean Jensen is not coming back?”
“I’m really sorry, sir.” Guy repeats. What is he sorry for? But Jared politely nods and moves out.
“What happened to the guy? The mugger?” Jared clarifies, standing in the doorway and glancing back. He doesn’t know why he asks, he doesn’t really care.
“We caught him,” the guy informs him.
“Oh, okay. Okay.” Jared leaves.
Jared comes home and stares at the big window, wondering how it will feel stepping out of it.
In the middle of the night, Jared sneaks into Jensen’s apartment, pulling away the yellow line and avoiding looking at the mess the police left behind.
Jared silently collects all the post-it notes from the fridge that were written by Jensen, because he doesn’t want anyone touching them.
He comes back into his own place, pulls out his backpack and throws some clothes in, holding Jensen’s post-it notes to his chest.
He leaves before sunrise.
Jared is hitchhiking, without any destination, keen on being no one. He didn’t take his car, took as little evidence of his life as possible.
But he keeps all the post-it notes in his wallet because Jensen left them for Jared.
When he is riding shotgun, wind ruffling his hair and quiet song from the stereo sharing some story, Jared falls into a familiar numbness and pretends he is someone who doesn’t want to die.
He has a new cell phone number, but he doesn’t know when he’ll manage at least to call Megan, too frightened to recall all that hurt he left behind.
Jared keeps running away, afraid that if he stops, he’d have to face his loss and then, Jensen would be really gone.
One time, Jared is picked up by a girl with bright red-dyed hair in a big dusty truck.
They spend about eight hours on the road, hot air and broken AC.
She talks, and he listens.
She is heading to LA to set up a band and become next Hayley Williams, and when she sings in her raspy voice along with Joni Mitchell, Jared hopes for her dreams to come true.
When Jared says goodbye to her, wishing her luck - standing on the roadside, his hand on the door handle of her car - she sighs before commenting, “Hey buddy, you should let it go. Whatever is haunting you, you should let it go.”
Jared looks at her and says nothing.
“It’s slowly killing you,” she adds sympathetically.
“I don’t mind,” he says and closes the door carefully.
Jared is in the store buying some junk food, and out of nowhere, his cell phone rings, a call from the blocked number.
It’s been three weeks since Jared’s gotten a call from someone as he doesn’t share his number with anyone, and he doesn’t know why he picks it up, eyeing his phone warily, his heart starting to pound in his ears because he starts to feel something.
An unknown voice with a southern accent drawls, “Boy, it took so long to find you. You sure know how to play hide and seek.”
“Who is this?” Jared asks suspiciously with a mix of disturbance and irritation.
Voice sounds grumpy and displeased, “Just come home, kid. He’s waiting for you and driving us all insane.”
“Who is this?” Jared presses and his voice turns different, weak and trembling, giving him away. Why would someone play such a cruel joke on him?
“Come home, Jared. Okay?” The voice is softer now, and Jared lets out a shaky breath and intends to ask million questions, but there’s a click before the line goes dead.
Jared stands in front of his own apartment, backpack in his hand, frozen on the spot, intently staring at post-it note on his front door. He pulls it off with trembling fingers.
“If you could pick just one day you’d have to relive over and over, which one it’d be? I’d pick the one with you.”
And then.
“I’m sorry.”
Jared sags to the floor and closes his eyes, gasping for air, fingers clutching the note desperately.
There are hands on his body, picking him up. The scent and hands are familiar, but who knows what he’ll see when he opens his eyes?!
He is dragged into his own apartment, clinging to the person and sobbing into his shirt, because he can’t take the weight of the pain and guilt anymore.
Jared is pushed onto the bed, and he is forced to open his eyes because Jensen says, “Jared, look at me. It’s me.”
Jared crushes Jensen in his arms; his whole body pushing into Jensen’s to get attached to every part of him and says nothing.
Epilogue