Neil Armstrong and the Wicked Witch of the West, J2 AU, 1/2, complete, [PG-13]

[sandymg]

Title: Neil Armstrong and the Wicked Witch of the West
AO3
Author: sandymg
Beta: borgmama1of5
Summary: On the day of the U.S. celebrating marriage equality in all states, Jared is shocked into facing his biggest fear.
Wordcount: 17.5K
Genre: RPS, J2 AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is fiction. No harm intended. No profit made.
A/N: Banner by the wonderful apieceofcake
A/N2: This is a timestamp to One Small Step and takes place four years after the end of the original story.

Part 1
~ Jensen ~

The buzzing builds like a low swarm, not sound but vibration, pulsing through the crowd, accelerating Jensen’s heartbeat to a quick hummingbird flutter.

Hundreds of people surround him, all shapes, sizes - a gorgeous mosaic of faces glowing in expectation - a waving sea of rainbow flags flapping in the Friday morning sunshine. Some hold placards: It’s Time - Vote Love - Equality. Earlier they were chanting but now, suddenly, it’s quiet as folks frantically refresh their cell phones.

The Supreme Court steps are barricaded with police and officials. Across from them a podium stands waiting for comments on the decision. Tom squeezes his hand and Jensen smiles up at him but his friend’s attention is already elsewhere.

With his free hand, Jensen grips the marriage equality flag he’s holding and wishes again that Jared could be here with him. It’s wrong to experience this earth-shattering moment without his husband. Husband. His soul stirs because if this goes well then their marriage will be that much more real. It’ll be recognized in every state of the union. Even in his home state of Texas.

He thinks of his father having to acknowledge that both his sons - straight and gay - are indeed married and he swallows bitterness because even such a huge law change won’t make that happen. He knows that Josh and Brittany are somewhere at home awaiting the decision along with their mom. While back in New York, Jared is with their friend Sandy, showing nothing outwardly, but Jensen knows his husband will be shaking inside with anticipation.

Tom puts his arm around Jensen in a very uncharacteristic half hug. “Can you believe this?” his friend asks.

Jensen nods no because it still stuns him how quickly things have progressed. It’s been four years since New York passed its Marriage Equality Act. Four years since Jensen almost made the biggest mistake of his life and nearly married the man next to him just because he’d thought that nobody would ever really want him enough to be a true partner for a lifetime. He’d thought a marriage in name only would at least make a political point, and it was the best he’d ever get. Despite fighting his homophobic father’s hateful ideas for years, Jensen had been secretly harboring self-hatred that wasn’t all that different.

Until Jared.

As if reading his mind, Tom pipes in, “Clifford would wig out in a crowd this big, eh?”

It is futile at this point to get Tom to stop calling Jared some big or giant-related nickname although it still irritates Jensen every time. He supposes it’s Tom’s leftover resentment at how Jensen dumped Tom at the altar. Even if the romantic aspect of their relationship wasn’t real, the humiliation had stung his friend.

Jensen feels the urgency in the throng around him. People are pushing against him as they wiggle in place, waiting, scooting up closer, becoming a mob of one, and there is truly nowhere to go. No, Jared would not like this.

A soft sigh escapes. “This isn’t Jay’s thing.”

Tom laughs and as Jensen hears no derision he lets it go. He knows that Jared and Tom will never be friends. Tom doesn’t understand Jared’s pure heart and honesty, plus he doesn’t have the patience to deal with Jared’s idiosyncrasies.

Call it like it is, Jensen … I’m weird.

No. You are not. You’re different. Perfect in a perfectly imperfect way.

Jared had laughed at that.

That makes no sense.

But Jensen had argued. Yes it does. I wouldn’t wish anything about you to be different.

And his beautiful then-fiancé had blushed a faint pink and remained silent as is his way when emotions become too much.

Smiling at thoughts of Jared, Jensen catches Tom’s attention once more. “Did you know there’s a tree planted on the White House grounds - a Loblolly Pine - that travelled to the moon as a seed with the crew of Apollo 14?” Tom’s eyes widen and his mouth drops slightly. Jensen can see the start of incredulous negativity but perseveres. “There were dozens of them planted all over the world. They’re called ‘Moon Trees.’”

Tom angles his head in a studious look. “I didn’t know that shit was contagious.”

Jensen frowns. “Tom …”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Heaven forbid I say anything about Saint Jolly.”

Jensen’s awareness of the crowd fades as he tries once again to call Tom out on his ridicule. “Jared’s on the spectrum for what used to be called Asperger’s - that doesn’t make him some sort of specimen. Jesus, Tom, you go ape shit if somebody says anything against the queer community but when it comes to Jared’s ASD …”

Momentarily introspective, Tom looks up as if seeking higher guidance before returning his steely blue gaze to Jensen. “You know what? You’re right. It’s not the autism. It’s just him, he rubs me the wrong way, can’t help it.”

Jensen wants to say something, defend Jared or criticize Tom’s prejudice, explain that it is hard to get to know Jared, but it’s so worth the effort. Although this is a conversation they’ve been having for four years.

And then, it happens.

A collective gasp wavers through the field of activists and spectators and media.

Tom is staring at his telephone screen but by then the screaming and elation permeating around them makes the decision obvious. “Five to four,” Tom says. “Legal in all fifty states.”

Jensen’s heart throbs in his chest and he can hardly breathe, his legs feel rubbery as he absorbs the tears, hugs, waving flags and collective joy all around him.

“Oh god,” Tom says breathless next to him. “Jen …”

It happens without warning. One minute Jensen is doing his best to not fall over or bawl or both, and the next, Tom is squeezing his ribs to the point of pain and then pressing his lips down against Jensen’s, hard, bruising, with years of frustration and hurt and pain pouring from Tom in a crushing kiss.

Two beats later Jensen snaps out of it, pushes Tom back forcefully, lips still wet and open in shock as he swipes the spit off them. Tom grins crookedly and utters, “Old habits” before turning to the person next to him and taking him into a hug as well.

Jensen feels paralyzed as the crowd jostles and hollers, a chant of ‘Love Wins’ beginning as phones take to the air to capture it all in photos. He wraps his arms around himself, dazed at the magnitude of this ruling. Expected, yet still shocking. His lips are numb from that bizarre kiss and Jensen feels the wrongness of it burn his cheeks. He can’t quite believe Tom did that. Even when they had been a sort of couple, they’d hardly ever kissed. Why in the world would Tom want to kiss him now that Jensen has been married for years?

An arm squeezes his shoulder. “Sorry, bud, got carried away.” Tom smiles, teeth gleaming in the sun. “No worries. I’ll never tell if you don’t.”

And suddenly it’s so much worse. Jensen hadn’t yet thought of whether he’d mention it to Jared or not. It is all just too much, the Supreme Court of the land has just said that he was like everyone else. That his marriage was as valid and real and special as every straight person’s marriage.

Not that he’d thought that what he and Jared share is anything less than miraculous.

Except now he’s kissed someone else. Well, been kissed by someone else, but the distinction keeps blurring in his mind.

It clicks then that he expected Jared to call him post decision. Surely he’s heard by now. Jensen takes out his phone.

“The internet’s exploding, man,” Tom says next to him, his eyes on his own small screen.

There are no missed calls and given the noise level Jensen thinks Jared knows that Jensen would never be able to hear him. It would be more practical to text. Except Jensen knows that Jared doesn’t do texting. Just not one of his things.

He sees that he has texts from his brother, Josh, and one from his mother. Other friends and coworkers. He's thinks about responding to them when someone at the podium starts reading from Justice Kennedy’s decision.

“No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death.

“It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization's oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right. The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit is reversed. It is so ordered.”

The crowd explodes again in tears and hugs, yelps of excitement and sighs of relief. It presses on him, the full weight of history, every bullied child and secret assignation, every petrified moment of discovery and the emptiness of families lost. He hears the sobs of the tens of thousands of their brothers and sisters lost to AIDS - if only they could have lived to experience this day, this joy, this affirmation.

He swallows hard past the lump in his throat that won’t dissipate, wishing again that Jared was with him - could hug him and embody what it all really means, what it was all for.

His text lights up again. It’s from Sandy and Jensen wonders if she’s sending it on Jared’s behalf and nearly fumbles his phone because he can’t read it fast enough.

Jay saw the Instagram.

As far as congratulations go that one seems odd but Jensen knows that there must be thousands of photos already posted of the celebrations erupting all around him - must be what she means. He glances around and realizes that he’s lost Tom to the fluttering flags and jubilation. Probably time to start working his way out, he thinks, but still takes a second to write back to Sandy.

It’s such a happy day.

Walking is nearly impossible as he’s slapped across the back and smiled at and squeezed and prodded with every step. It’s very slow going to break through to the outskirts. On the podium he knows folks are still talking of the history made today in the solemn building rising above them.

He sneaks another look at his phone hoping that maybe Jared will text him directly.

For some clearly more than others.

Jensen stops.

His face nearly crashes into the bushy hair of a woman in front of him. He smells her citrus shampoo and mumbles his apology into her curls. She hugs her girlfriend closer as she steps aside and he can see them murmuring to each other to be heard over the deafening din.

Keeping his elbows close to his sides he pecks out another text to Sandy.

What’s that mean?

Not giving her a chance to reply, he follows that immediately with another text.

Is Jared okay?

There’s no reason to imagine anything being wrong. He left Jared in excellent spirits telling Jensen to go be a part of history. Jared was steadfast in his belief that the Supreme Court would not vote against them, having statistical evidence to back up his claim from studying Justice Kennedy’s every gay-rights-related ruling from when he first joined the bench. According to Jared, this one was in the bag.

His phone gets many more texts but none from Sandy or Jared, and Jensen continues to work his way out of the crowd. He turns left and makes his way toward East Capitol where he hopes to catch a taxi to his hotel near Union Station. The excitement in his gut is churning into something sour and he’s anxious to get somewhere quiet so he can finally call Jared.

It’s still too busy to hail a taxi and so he starts walking in the hopes that he’ll catch a ride shortly. Dialing Jared gets him only voicemail and he leaves a short message asking Jared to please call him back.

He tries Sandy instead. She answers on the third ring, voice sharp with anger. “What the hell, Jensen?!”

“San?”

“How could you?”

“How could I what?”

“That wasn’t you and Tom lip locked all over like two hundred Instagram accounts? Not to mention turning Twitter into a gossip frenzy?”

Blood drains from his face and he brings his fingers to his mouth. She can’t mean … but she does. Of course she does. Because the only thing more ubiquitous than rainbow flags in front of those steps were clicking iPhones.

“Sandy … it’s not-“

“Did you kiss him?”

Jensen feels like the air has thickened to glue. “No … I mean, he … he kissed me.”

“Someone Vined it and it sure looks like both of you are doing the kissing.”

Oh God. It’s on the internet? On a loop?

“Jared … is he …?”

Sandy sighs. “Jay said he was fine. But he left … said he needed to be home. Practically ran out of here.”

“He’s not answering his phone.” Jensen feels sick, his stomach roils. His husband can be nuanced about many things, but others he’s very black and white. Cheating is clearly defined and … oh God, this is so bad.

A red and gray taxi nears and Jensen flags it down. Fingers shaking, he searches for his name in various social media. It’s the first thing that comes up - he and Tom with Tom’s arms around him, Jensen’s own hand on Tom’s chest, heads tilted in what appears to be a serious kiss. He swallows hard. But … it wasn’t like that. Tom pulled him into it so quickly that Jensen hadn’t had time to think, his lips weren’t open in passion, but rather in surprise. They hadn’t touched each other since even before the wedding that wasn’t. And certainly never since Jensen had married Jared.

His fingers flicker over more sites. The Vine loop is the worst as it takes the second and stretches it to seem like minutes. He shuts his eyes and tries to imagine himself in Jared’s place. What would Jensen think if he saw Jared kissing another man like that? That’s all it takes to stab Jensen as surely as someone had skewered him clear through his sternum. He darkens his phone for the remainder of the ride.

As soon as he enters his hotel room, he sends a text to Tom.

Heading home ASAP. That kiss went viral, you asshole.

He’s throwing the last of his things in the suitcase when Tom replies.

Was just in the moment. Tell Clifford to chill.

The Fuck You he sends in reply is not nearly harsh enough to express the rage he’s feeling toward his once friend. It’s not so much what happened but Tom’s blatant disregard to how Jared might feel about it. He honestly feels that if he sees Tom again, he’ll punch his lights out.

He’s tried Jared’s phone repeatedly to no avail. Finally he texts Sandy that he’s heading home as soon as possible and to please take care of Jared.

It’s not until some ninety minutes later as the Amtrak train is pulling out of the station that he hears from Sandy again.

“Jay’s not letting me in,” Sandy says, sounding unhappy. “Says he’s fine but wants to be alone.”

Jensen knows that’s not unlike Jay if something is upsetting him. Frankly, it would be out of character for Jared to reach out to anyone when he’s emotionally distraught.

“San, it didn’t mean anything. Tom just … I don’t know why he did it. But I was surprised for a second before pushing him away. That loop makes it seem much longer.”

There’s a prolonged silence and then Sandy says, “I get it. A lot of posters think it was nothing but a publicity stunt anyway. Was it?” she asks.

“I don’t know. He said it just happened.” But this is Tom and Jensen knows how much he loves attention. Smacking one on his former runaway groom on the day marriage is made legal everywhere does sound like something he’d plan.

Not that Jensen wants to know but he has to ask. “What did Jared say?”

“Well, he got pale and his eyes started darting side to side like he does sometimes.” Sandy pauses to take a breath and Jensen pictures her tucking her long hair behind one ear. “He handed me his phone and that’s when I saw … well, you know. And I didn’t know what to say after that.”

“Did Jay say anything?”

“No. He started to rock at first. Then he got up and disappeared into my bathroom for a while. I was about to knock when he came out and said he needed to be home. I told him no, told him to stay and that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He said he knew that.” Sandy stops again and Jensen squeezes the phone willing her to continue. “His eyes got that far away look, you know what I mean. At the door he mumbled something about Neil Armstrong and … Margaret Hamilton, I think, but I didn’t understand and he was gone before I could get any more out of him.”

Jensen’s heart is somewhere near his knees now. Jared’s Asperger’s is so a part of him that Jensen barely even remembers it these days. But when Jared’s very upset, when something hits him hard emotionally, he shuts down and lets his Aspie out, as he phrases it. Sandy described it to a tee.

“I understand Neil Armstrong,” Sandy says. “But didn’t Margaret Hamilton play the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. He feels like rocking himself. Anything to move the train along faster. He feels impotent sitting here while Jared is hurting. “Sandy, are you still by our place?”

“Right outside.”

Jensen sighs. “Go on home. I’ll be there in a few hours and I’ll call you later. If Jay needs you he’ll call.”

Sandy argues, “No, he won’t, you know that.” Her voice pitches high, agitated. “Maybe he’ll call you. You’re his anchor.”

“Right,” Jensen says bitterly. Jared has called him that, has told Jensen that he keeps Jared tethered to the world, to the planet, keeps him from feeling alone.

He slips his phone back in his pocket and slinks down low in the seat. The vibration of the train matches the stutters of his heart. He tilts his head into the cool window pane and suppresses the sob fighting to escape. The only thing worse than knowing Jared is hurting is knowing that he’s the reason that Jared is in pain.

~ Jared ~

He doesn’t like laughing at his husband but honestly, sometimes, Jensen is just ridiculous. It’s late on Thursday and they are on the phone and Jensen continues to be worried about this decision when Jared already told him that there is nothing to worry about. Jared knows that Kennedy will be the swing vote they need.

“You can’t know that definitively,” Jensen argues.

“I can. Kennedy has written every major decision on gay rights since 1996. Just two years ago, DOMA was struck down because of him.”

“Doesn’t mean …”

Jared sighs. “Jen, if they release the decision tomorrow, then trust me … it’ll be good. It’ll go in our favor.” Jared really hopes that tomorrow is the day, although not exactly for the same reasons as others. He knows that with Pride events scheduled that weekend in New York City, there’s an overwhelming hope for the good news to precede that.

What Jared really wants is for Jensen to come home. It’s funny how he’s gotten so used to living with Jensen that he finds his safe home space feels odd when Jensen is away. Wasn’t always that way, of course. At first, Jared had to up every one of his neurotypical-fooling tricks to not let his frustration show. Jensen has a way of disturbing things. Jared knows that most people would consider Jensen neat, but not Jared. It’s weird to care so much about where something belongs. He knows that. But he can’t help it, and telling himself to stop it does nothing.

One of their early days together, Jared agreed to let Jensen wash the dishes, but Jensen put them in the drainer to dry all wrong. The forks were in the wrong spot and mixed up with other cutlery and the dishes weren’t in the proper order and it was all a mess. His head began spinning with wrong wrong wrong and he got too loud, he knew that, he knows when he scares Jensen. It’s awful to watch Jensen’s face in those moments, his eyes big and his skin flushing as if his blood wants to escape and it hurts Jared, but the dishes also couldn’t stay all wrong so he frantically removed them from the drainer to make it right. But Jensen tried to help and Jared shoved him away and Jensen went flying backward and crashed into the table.

There’s no doubt that Jared will forever hear the thud Jensen made as his elbow struck hard against the wooden surface. It reverberated and Jared dropped the plate he was holding and it shattered into shards. His momma’s china, which he was always so careful when he washed because if you drop it you can hurt yourself and Poppa did exactly that once shortly after momma was gone and there’d been blood and Jared spent hours scrubbing the spot and then trying to put the dish back together until his poppa told him, Stop, son, please. We can replace it.

Jared doesn’t recall everything that happened after Jensen had gone barreling into the table. He’s aware he’d had what his parents referred to as an episode. He’d yelled at Jensen that it wasn’t replaceable and Poppa lied and it was discontinued just like his momma. And it wasn’t until much later, when he’d been rocking slowly for what might have been hours did Jared notice that Jensen was holding his elbow and the realization that Jensen was hurt, that Jared had caused it, started things up again and by the time it settled Jensen looked like someone ran him through the washing machine’s heavy duty cycle.

There’d been crying and Jensen promising over and over that he was fine, that it was just a bruise, that he knew Jared didn’t mean it, that he didn’t blame Jared. After that rules were set down … Jensen would follow Jared’s way of keeping things around the house and would stay away from Jared if he got upset. Jared couldn’t be comforted the way NTs liked - constraining him or trying to hug him only made it worse.

And Jensen had proved Jared’s father wrong by tracking down a used set of dishes in his momma’s pattern on eBay, and, boy, did he look proud when he opened the box and triumphantly lifted one out to show Jared.

It has been three nights since Jensen left for Washington, DC with Tom and his fellow activist friends. But it feels much longer.

“Jay … Jay, you there?”

Jared startles back to the present and wonders how long Jensen’s been calling his name. “Yes, sorry.” He blurts out the truth because it’s all he knows. “I miss you a lot.”

“Oh, baby, I miss you, too. So much. I wish-“ Jensen stops himself but Jared knows what he wanted to say. It twists Jared’s insides because, again, he’s so stupid, he can’t accompany his husband to the biggest event of their lifetime.

Jensen immediately argues and Jared knows that he mumbled more of that aloud than he should have. “No, it’s fine. I understand. This is important but so are you. Your book sequel, it’s all anyone I see talks about. What you’ve done matters just as much, you’re making a difference one person at a time.”

Jared followed up his autobiographical graphic novel, The Wrong Planet with its sequel, The New Planet. It took Jared longer to complete than he’d imagined, but it’s been out now for several months. The nearly four years of work were worth it, though, as he knows his soul is on those pages. He is proud of his work.

He can hear Jensen’s smile when Jared says that out loud. “Good. It’s saved lives, Jared. Be proud of that. Be proud of yourself.” Jared’s throat tightens at Jensen’s words. He desperately wants to feel his husband’s arms around him. Jensen must sense how he feels. “Hey, it’s okay to miss each other. I’d worry if we didn’t. But we can talk … text if you want.” Before Jared can remind Jensen again that he likely won’t be texting, Jensen adds, “Or not. It’s fine. We can talk. I love hearing your voice. I’ll be home soon.”

Jared nods even though he knows Jensen can’t see him. He knows that Jensen would Skype but Jared misses him too much if he sees him far away. This has come up before when Jensen has travelled for work or for gay rights events. Always an activist, Jensen has been fiercely working for the cause of marriage equality since their own wedding. So everyone has the right to have what we do, he explained once.

Jared glances at the clock and sees it’s well past midnight, technically already Friday. Jared keeps to a schedule and while he’s eased up a lot since marrying Jensen, well, he has an absolute latest cutoff for going to sleep on weeknights. And it’s approaching.

“I have to go to bed,” he says in a way he knows will not broach disagreement.

“I know. Good night. I love you.”

“I miss kissing you goodnight,” Jared says, uncharacteristically emotional. It’s never Jared that lingers on these occasions. He can sense Jensen’s surprise.

“I miss kissing you, too,” Jensen chuckles deeply. “Among other things.”

Now Jared really has to go, the minute hand just ticked again and it’s starting to make Jared’s belly feel like a snake was let loose in it.

Jensen repeats a soft, “I love you.”

“Me, too.” Jared disconnects swiftly. He flips his reading light off and is breathing steadily into his pillow, but his hand drifts into the empty space beside him and he can’t help the soft plaintive sigh that escapes.

~~

The phone alerts beep at Jared at strobe-like speed. He is smiling at Sandy who has tears in her eyes as she watches the breaking news on the television screen.

“I told you so,” he teases Sandy. She, too, had seemed worried about the outcome. He doesn’t understand NTs, they seem to ignore probabilities yet that’s one of Jared’s favorite things. Why not alleviate stress by knowing your odds?

The image switches to the cheering crowd in front of the Supreme Court building. He knows it’s too crowded to spot Jensen but he can’t help wish that a camera would zoom into his husband’s beautiful face. He misses Jensen like a physical ache. Overwhelmed, he walks to the kitchen for a drink of water to loosen the knot in his throat.

He brings one for Sandy as well and they listen to the last parts of Kennedy’s ruling being recited. As he imagines Jensen hearing those same words he has to rub his eyes with his knuckles. Sandy laughs through her choked emotions and looks up at him. “Hug?” she asks.

There are few people he allows to touch him in that manner but his best friend, Sandy, is one of them. Even so, he appreciates her always asking first. He swallows her small body up in his arms. He thinks he could wrap his long arms around her twice if he had that kind of flexibility. His laugh escapes into the top of her head.

“I just … it’s so wonderful,” Sandy exclaims.

“I expected it,” Jared replies. “This ruling,” he elaborates. “But … I admit I didn’t anticipate it a few years ago. Even when marriage equality passed in New York, I thought we’d have to slog through state by state and I thought it would take a long time.”

Sandy pulls back and beams at Jared. “No matter where you are, you and Jensen will be recognized as a married couple. Think of it, Jay, you could live anywhere.”

Jared stiffens. “What do you mean? We live here.” He waves his arms. “I mean, not here, not your apartment. But my … our place.”

Very gently Sandy lifts his hand toward her chest and squeezes before letting go. “I know that. And Jensen loves living there with you. His heart is here, in New York. No worries. But if you travel together … it’s just so much safer this way should, God forbid, anything happen to either of you.”

She lowers the volume on the TV and picks up her cell phone. “Twitter must be crazy,” she says, flicking her thumb over the screen.

Jared goes for his own phone. The alerts continue nonstop. He thinks he should text Jensen, he’d probably really be happy if Jared did that. Later, they’ll hopefully get to talk, although Jared anticipates there will be some major celebrating going on. He doesn’t begrudge Jensen this. It’s not his husband’s fault that Jared is socially inept and can’t join in those things.

Before opening his text app he goes to Instagram to see if Jensen maybe posted a photo. The first seven photos he comes across are all the same, although taken from various angles.

It’s Jensen and Tom kissing.

Jared stares and flicks through the images. They don’t change, don’t miraculously become something else. Don’t dissolve into two other men expressing their devotion during a highly emotional and charged event. His eyes flicker as he scrolls.

His husband and the man he almost married. Embracing. Kissing.

The neural connections in his brain short circuit and his thoughts spiral like the curves of the Milky Way. Someone hit a reset button on the world. He sees them standing there like well-dressed Ken dolls, declaring their love. He hears Tom say I do and then Jensen says it and then they kiss. They kiss and kiss and kiss and Jared can only stare and a small part of him yells that it didn’t go that way, that Jensen chose him, but then he sees Jensen kissing Tom again and he shudders as if an electric current is racing through his veins. He can’t speak, just vibrates helplessly with the tremor that starts in his hand and races through his limbs.

“Jared! What is it? What’s wrong?”

With every ounce of willpower he has, he stretches his arm out toward Sandy, gripping the phone tight and aiming the screen at her.

She gasps.

Jared drops the phone and stands and hears himself say something unintelligible as he runs swiftly to the bathroom. There’s bile in the toilet so maybe he vomited but he doesn’t remember and then he’s washing his face, rocking front and back and he can’t be here. He needs to be home. Home. Now.

“I have to go home,” he utters. He’s back in Sandy’s living room and he needs to get out.

“Jay, stop, please. Wait. Take your cell, don’t leave it here.”

He tucks the thing into his pocket and swears it burns like a lit cigarette.

“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like,” Sandy pleads. “You have to wait until you can talk to Jensen. There’s got to be an explanation.”

Jared knows there’s an explanation. Of course there is. He’s feared this truth for years and this is just the evidence he’s refused to let himself absorb. After all, Tom is Neil Armstrong and Jared is Margaret Hamilton.

~ Jensen ~

He lingers in the corridor outside the apartment door so long that there’s a good chance his slightly senile neighbor is going to call the police and report someone loitering. Running his hand once more through his disheveled hair, he twirls his keys with a mindless jingle. He’d rung the doorbell several minutes ago because he knew Jared would not appreciate being surprised that Jensen had come home unannounced. Even without the clusterfuck of the photograph, Jared doesn’t like his routine upended.

Nobody comes to the door and Jensen doesn’t know what that means.

Of course, Jared might not be home. He is an adult and could go anywhere in the city. Except that’s not what Jensen really believes. What he fears is that Jared doesn’t want to see him, that he is so angry, disappointed, sad, betrayed, that he wants Jensen to stay away longer. The edges of the keys dig into his palm, leaving a mark, and Jensen wonders if he should go to Sandy’s first … ask her again exactly what Jared said and did.

That’s when the apartment door opens and Jared peeks out, expression stiff and eyes shuttered.

“J-Jay,” Jensen stutters uselessly.

Jared says nothing but holds the door open and Jensen takes it for the invitation that it implies.

He enters slowly, remembering the very first time he visited Jared, bringing with him a twelve-part miniseries about the Apollo program. Tracing the same steps, he stops again in front of the Earthrise print, still hanging in prominence in what is now their living room. Once this was just a beautiful photograph. Now it has come to mean so much more. The photo represented Jared’s view of the world for so long, an outsider looking down on the blue marble, never feeling quite a part of the humanity that inhabits it.

The cover drawing of Jared’s first graphic novel featured a similar image, small and alone and foreign. An entity to be viewed from afar. The sequel, however, is so very different. Jay, the main character, is situated in the middle of Times Square, with an explosion of life around him. He’s not quite blending yet, the bubble of his spacecraft protects him from the cacophony of sound and touch and light that geysers from that central spot. But he’s there. He’s landed. He’s allowed it to surround him.

Jensen pulls his eyes away from Earthrise to seek out Jared. He spots him near the window, eyes facing outward but Jensen knows the only things his husband sees right now are his own thoughts.

Jensen is afraid of what they might be.

It takes all his self-control not to pull Jared into his arms and hug and kiss him and show him that the picture with Tom means nothing, that he’s missed Jared with all his soul. Instead, he approaches slowly, as one might a timid child.

“Jay?” he questions very gently.

In typical fashion Jared surprises Jensen because there is nothing like timidity in the glare he receives when Jared’s eyes sharply dart to his.

“Jensen.” Jared’s lips narrow and his voice is so carefully controlled that Jensen just about doesn’t recognize it. He turns fully so he faces Jensen directly, eyes locked and certain. “I have a meeting.”

“What?” Jensen asks stupidly.

Jared glances down at his wristwatch. “In one hour with Mr. Thomson.”

Thomson is one of the foundation attorneys. Jared meets with him periodically. He was a friend to Jared’s parents back in the day. Jared’s known him all his life.

“Okay,” Jensen says because he doesn’t know what else to possibly say to that.

He watches Jared turn back around to gaze out the window and wonders if he’s supposed to stay silent for the next forty minutes until Jared leaves for the attorney’s office. He knows Jared is different and sometimes needs to tackle things in his own way but this is getting ridiculous. Jensen counts, too.

“Jay. I know you saw that photograph.”

Nothing. Not even a twitch to acknowledge Jensen’s words.

“I can explain it, if you are willing to listen.”

Still facing the window, Jared’s voice is as steady as a flat stretch of highway. “I’m not the inexperienced virgin you married. I know what a kiss is.”

Jensen can’t help the frustration from his own voice. “I know you do. But … it wasn’t … he kissed me. I didn’t expect it.”

With ongoing calmness Jared continues, “I think you made a mistake.”

“Yes. I can see how you think that. Although really it was Tom’s mistake. I was just surprised, I don’t know why he-“

“It’s not too late to undo it. It’s like you said once … not everyone is like my parents.”

Jensen is confused and he hates having this conversation with the back of Jared’s head and has no idea what Jared’s parents have to do with any of this. “Please face me when you talk to me.”

It’s not often he directs Jared to act in an NT way but he can’t continue like this.

Several long seconds later, Jared turns around. His expression is flat and unreadable but his eyes … they are no longer harsh like they’d been a few minutes earlier. Now, Jensen sees weariness or, worse, surrender. “You made a mistake,” Jared repeats.

Jensen nods. “I’m sorry, but I explained ...”

“We can fix it.”

That gets Jensen’s attention because what he wants above all is to make this up to Jared and finally get to hug his husband because his body is starting to ache from not touching.

“Yeah. I want that. What can I do?”

Jared looks down and tugs at the bottom of his tee-shirt. He’s wearing a snug shirt, jeans and no socks and it’s everything Jensen can do to keep his hands to himself. The slightest of hitches catches Jared’s voice. “I’ll take care of it. Mr. Thomson primarily handles family law, he helps the foundation on the side.”

Something cold and sharp claws into Jensen’s chest. “Jay … what are you …?”

“I researched and, well, there’s nothing exactly like our situation, of course. Although I do think it must come up rather often. I mean, people make mistakes all the time. I think they should have a ‘changed my mind’ clause. That would make sense. But the closest New York offers is called ‘irretrievable breakdown.’ But that has to take place over six months. On some websites it says we can backdate it but that’s lying and I can’t do that. So we can start with a sep-“

“Jared, stop!”

Jensen rarely ever yells and Jared does silence instantly, taking a step backward and shrinking into himself slightly. Normally this would make Jensen feel bad but his heart is hammering so hard it’s blocking out everything else. “Are you … it sounds like you’re talking about a divorce.”

It hurts that Jared is using one of his NT-emulating techniques, looking at Jensen’s forehead rather than his eyes, even though Jensen realizes that Jared is doing it to meet Jensen on even ground.

Jared nods once sharply.

“Because I kissed Tom?” Jensen asks incredulously.

“You said, Tom kissed you,” Jared replies and Jensen doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry or rage. Anger starts to beat out the other emotions.

“He did kiss me - the asshole - said it just happened because of the excitement of the decision. Maybe that’s true. Or maybe he wanted his mug everywhere and that was a cheap way to get there.” Jensen runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Either way, if you think I’m letting that ruin our relationship, you’re insane.”

Jared doesn’t say anything but looks at his watch again and twitches visibly. He walks into the bedroom and comes back both with sneakers on and a book in his hand. It’s large and looks like one of his mother’s scrapbooks. “I don’t know why I never showed you this before.” He stops and his mouth twists. “No. That’s not so. I do know why.”

Jensen accepts the book. He’s never known Jared to keep anything from him. “Jay, please …” Jensen begs but Jared is already heading toward the door.

“Look at it and then you’ll see that you made a mistake. It’s okay. I don’t blame you. I … understand. I can’t live a lie though.”

“I’ve never lied … Jesus, how can you …?”

The door shutting gently behind Jared sounds like the click of a coffin lid. On legs that can’t support him any longer, Jensen staggers brokenly to the sofa still clutching the oversized scrapbook. If anything has answers to whatever strange path Jared’s thoughts have taken, it must be here.

Right now absolutely nothing makes sense. He’d expected Jared to be mad, hurt. He knew he’d have to explain and make it right. In a million years he hadn’t expected Jared to be speaking to a lawyer about divorce. This can’t be happening. Just hours ago he was euphoric that marriage equality - their marriage - was the law of the land. His lungs contract as if someone is squeezing them and his heart has forgotten how to beat. It’s suffocating and he sees white spots before he instinctively leans down, chest hitting the stiff leather book binding.

Eyes shut, he draws a breath back through his nose, slowly expanding his chest. One breath. Two. He’s talked Jared through his severe anxiety, when he had to use a strange bathroom or walk through an unknown doorway. Jensen’s thoughts are all over, remembering other fights and how they are almost always his fault but Jared forgives him. Always. What’s different? He knows that Jared believes him when he said Tom kissed him and not the other way around. Jared doesn’t lie and their relationship is built on truth.

With trembling fingers he opens the scrapbook. He blinks to understand because the book is filled with newspaper clippings … articles, profiles, stories printed from the internet. Staring dumbly is all Jensen’s capable of because the key person appearing in all of these is Tom.

The book is a chronicle of Tom’s work in gay rights over the years. Several pages in, he spots a mention of himself with others of Tom’s close circle. The further he gets the more he sees himself next to Tom. The entries proceed until they near the date of what would have been his wedding to Tom. The publicity was at a fever pitch as the date grew closer and there are more articles, more references. Jared has taken screen caps of Twitter mentions and Instagram photos … it’s incredible. Meticulous. Obsessive, if Jensen wants to be brutally accurate.

What does it mean that Jared was doing this? Keeping this record as one might immortalize the everyday happenings of a president or royalty? For an insane second he wonders if Jared had been crushing on Tom? If he liked Tom in a romantic way? But if that were so then it would mean Jared had been lying for years. Jensen’s entire world view is shaken by that thought. It implies he’s never known Jared, not really. Not at all.

He rejects that.

Mouth dry, Jensen puts the book down. He goes to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He gulps most of it down at once. Holding the water like it is a magic elixir that will enlighten him, Jensen returns to the book and opens it randomly, then pages rapidly, watching again as the setup to his wedding day to Tom unfolds all over social media.

It stops abruptly with a final image of himself and Tom standing before the judge. Jensen remembers that moment, how he couldn’t stop turning back to look at Jared, how the love he felt for Jared was pulsing through him like a living entity. How it spoke to him and begged him to say no to Tom, to go to Jared. He remembers the tears he shed on his brother’s shoulder as he allowed himself to believe for the first time that Jared loving him meant he was more worthy than a sham marriage, how it meant his life’s purpose didn’t have to be about proving himself loveable. How he was already loved.

Only now there is this scrapbook. Some sort of ode to Tom. If he didn’t know better, by the look of the scrapbook, Jensen and Tom would be living happily ever after now. There is not one crumb of what came next. Nothing about the publicity vomit fest that followed Jensen’s running out on Tom at the altar.

Nothing about his marriage to Jared.

It’s like he and Jared don’t even exist.

Jensen swipes his eyes madly and thinks he should care about ruining something of Jared’s with snot and tears but at this moment he can’t really give a crap.

The doorbell rings and Jensen jumps up, book flying from his lap. He’s swinging the door open and calling Jared’s name before his mind can process that Jared always uses his key and isn’t one to ring doorbells.

Which explains why the man at the door is most definitely not Jared.

The grip on the door frame is the only thing keeping Jensen up as a deep voice tentatively asks, “Can I come in, son?”

Continues in Part 2