Early Mornings and Late Nights Under Overcast Sky (Jensen/Jared RPS) -- 42/? (WIP)
Title: Early Mornings and Late Nights Under Overcast Sky
Characters/Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki; Jensen Ackles / Luanne (OFC); Jared Padalecki/Pete (OMC); Jared/Eric Kripke/JDM; stated Jared/Sandy; stated Jared/Rebecca (OFC) and stated Jared/Ryan (OMC)
POV: Jensen Ackles
Author's Notes: It’s fiction. That means it’s not real, folks. Jensen and Jared are real people. So is Eric Kripke. The show “Supernatural” is a real TV show on the WB11. If anything else in this is real, I wasn’t aware of it.
Summary: Jared’s girl (Sandra) breaks up with him. Jensen tries to help. Things go (rapidly) downhill from there... then fester... then get better?
Come on! Hop in the handbasket! There be room here for everyone!
Spoilers: Overall there’s really nothing to see here… there are a few very vague spoilers for “Bugs” and some minor spoilers for “Faith”, “Bloody Mary” and "Shadow".
-------------------------
Chapter Forty-Two: The Getaway
Rating: R, for language and gore/imagery, adult content
Pairing: getting on towards the promised Jensen/Jared, but we’re still not quite there yet…
Word Count: 2,301
Chapter Forty-Two: The Getaway
The car comes to a screeching, sudden halt at the side of the road, in a squeal of tires and smell of rubber-at least to my heightened senses. I fumble with the seatbelt, eventually getting it undone, then struggle to make my fingers work, unlock the door and open it in one movement. I tumble to my knees in the dirt just in time to see dinner come up.
I don’t know how long I’m on my hands and knees, coughing and retching, spitting saliva and bile and coke into a pile between my hands before Jared’s by my side. I just know it’s not long at all.
Jared’s got a hand on my back, rubbing slow circles to calm me, and even though I’m aware of his touch, aware of the fact that I’m panicking, I can’t get enough control to stop it. I claw at the dirt-it’s dry against my wet hands, my forehead is damp and hot, I feel sweaty. The nausea seems to have passed, and I sit back on my heels, close my eyes and try to breathe. My hands are trembling in my lap.
Jared leans close to me, reaches an arm around me when I shy away. Too close, too close, I think, but then I can’t think anymore. He asks if I’m sick or if it’s a panic attack in a whisper, but I can’t answer him. I’m breathing heavy-short gasps that turn into rasping long ones when it feels like I can’t get enough air, but the long, deep breaths don’t last. “Jenny?” He asks, but I’m too far gone to answer him. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest.
Jared lifts me back into the car. He gets his hands under my arms and just pulls/lifts/tugs until I’m on my ass in the passenger seat, slumped and sprawled, all legs and arms and spit and bile-stained shirt. When he opens the bag with the sandwich the smell makes me lean over and heave again.
He closes it quickly, a napkin in hand, and when I lean back against the seat, head lolling against the headrest, he wipes my mouth for me, nudges my legs into the car. He presses something into my hands, and I hold on to it out of instinct.
“Water.” He says, leaning over me to reach blindly into the backseat, to the floor. He hauls out a black bag, fishes in it until he finds what he wants-two yellow-brown prescription medicine bottles-my medication.
I push weakly at his chest. “No…”
He reaches to unscrew the cap on the water bottle he previously pressed into my hands between my legs, then he fiddles with one of the medicine bottles, I hear the pills rattling.
“Jenny…”
“I’m fine…” I try to whisper, but the words sound garbled even to me.
“You’re not.” He says simply, dropping a pill between my parted lips. “Swallow, Jenny.”
I gulp down water, swallowing the pill with it. Jared takes the bottle away from me, pushing my arm down when my hand follows the bottle, looking for more. His voice is gentle. “Easy, Jen… that’s enough… you just threw up dinner…” His hand comes to my cheek, and it’s warm, soft, grounding. I turn my cheek into the contact, try to sit up straight. “Easy…” He whispers.
I close my eyes, just let myself feel as Jared’s hand stays on my face, his thumb pressing gently at my mouth. My breath is still ragged and shallow, fast-paced as is my heart rate. I try opening my eyes, but close them again quickly as a wave of dizziness washes over me.
“Shhh…” Jared soothes when my breath catches, rasping, a sob caught in my throat.
I sink into the leather upholstery, my body going lax as the drug starts to take effect, and just listen as Jared buckles my seatbelt for me, closes my door. I hear the car engine start up, a quiet, low rumble, followed by wheels over loose gravel and rocks as he pulls back onto the road. One of his hands works its way into mine, and he says my name as he squeezes my hand. “Jenny?”
I can’t squeeze his hand back, so I let my head turn towards his with a murmur of what I’d like to think was his name, but in reality is just a sound.
I’m still working through the dizziness when we arrive at our destination, though it’s dizziness brought on by the Xanax, not from the panic attack anymore. I’m breathing normally, my heart rate has returned to normal, and my hands no longer shake.
Jared hands his credit card to the man at the entrance gate when we pull through. “Supposed to snow this weekend. You two sure are brave.” He says, giving us an odd look while swiping Jared’s card and handing him a key to one of the cabins.
“Yeah.” Jared flashes him a winning smile. “We’re roughing it. ‘Sides, you take what you can get for a weekend away from the wife, right?”
That earns a chuckle from the man, and a wink. “I understand that, man, I do.” He waits for Jared to sign the charge slip. “Y’all be careful up here. No one else is expected all weekend, so… you guys get stranded up here with the weather or you see a bear, you call this number…” He taps an emergency number on the back of the campground brochure, circles it in red before handing it to Jared, along with a copy of the sales receipt and a validated red parking sticker that Jared slaps on my windshield. “Have a good one.”
“Yep. Take care.” Jared rolls up the window and drives through the campgrounds to the cabins, parking between two of the units. The place is abandoned, eerily silent. “Stay here.” He tells me as he exits the car.
When he comes back, I’ve got my seatbelt undone, and I’m sipping at the water he left in the center console cup holder. There are lights on in the cabin to my left, and the front door is open.
Jared takes the water from me. “Come on, Jen.” He says, depositing the water back in the cup holder. I get out of the car, waver on my feet but steady quickly. Jared offers a hand to steady me anyway. “Arm around me, Jen. C’mon.”
That’s another thing I’ve noticed about the Xanax. It makes me more open to suggestion. More compliant. Eddie tells me he knows a couple dommes who would like to see me after I’ve taken it. But he’s always been more into that sort of thing than I have.
I drape my arm around Jared’s shoulders, let him guide me to the cabin. He gets me to the bathroom, where I brush my teeth and take care of business on my own. He points to the bed closest to the bathroom door. “Lie down.” He tells me. I do.
He takes off my shoes for me, and my socks, lets me wriggle out of the heavy sweatshirt I’m wearing. I don’t bother taking off the sweatpants or undershirt.
“You’ll sleep okay?” Jared questions, standing in the bathroom door. He’s already stripped down to his boxers and undershirt.
I nod, mumble, “Sure,” and when the door to the bathroom closes, my eyes do too. I feel myself drifting.
When I wake up hours later, it’s still dark, and I’m still exhausted. It’s the steady drip-drip of water amidst the heavy pounding of torrential rain against the slatted roof of the cabin that wakes me.
I get up, and after looking for a non-existent leak in the ceiling, head into the bathroom to find the sink faucet not completely turned off. I twist the metal knob, seal the tap, and the offending drip ceases.
On the way back to bed, I pass the bed Jared’s sleeping in, notice the sheets are rumpled, pulled off to the side. He’s obviously been there, the bed’s been used, slept in-but he’s not there now. Funny I didn’t notice before.
“Jared?” I call his name, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence by yelling too loudly. I look around the cabin, try his name again when I receive no answer. “Jared?”
The pounding of the rain gets louder, and a flash of lightning casts an eerie whitish glow on my surroundings. I shrug to myself when I don’t see Jared in the sudden burst of light, figure maybe he’s getting something from the car, or that he couldn’t sleep-maybe he got up and passed out on the couch or went out on the porch. I’m about to head back to bed without giving it another thought when a cool breeze draws my attention to the open front door of the cabin.
At the door, I look out through the pouring rain, see Jared on the front porch of the cabin across from ours, talking to a couple of guys. They’re laughing, joking loudly though I can’t make out the words for the storm. I grab my coat and run across the muddy campground to say hi. I’m drenched by the time I get there. Jared’s dripping wet as well, his clothes sodden and sticking to his lanky frame, water running in rivulets through his hair and down his neck.
Jared introduces me. “This is Jensen. Jen, this is Ray… Aaron… and the quiet one over there…” He points to a taller man with black hair, dressed in chinos and a checkered shirt, who’s leaning against the railing, a beer in hand-“…is Pete.”
Pete tips his beer at the sound of his name, and offers a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his baseball-cap shadowed eyes. Jared’s still talking. “…friends of mine from college. They’ve been here since Monday. Imagine our surprise running into each other like this!”
Yeah. Imagine, I think dryly, taking the beer the offer and standing closer to Jared. They may be his friends, but I don’t trust them. Especially Pete in the corner, who’s walking towards us now, still grinning, his clothing impeccably neat-pants ironed with perfect pleats, pressed shirt-and not a hair out of place. His clothes are suspiciously dry. I turn towards Pete when Jared does, keep Jared at my side. I’m aware of him at all times.
When Ray lightly punches Jared’s shoulder, I give him the evil eye, and get a look from Ray that says I’m probably overreacting. Jared steps in close to me. “Jen?” He asks. “You okay? You’re acting really strange.”
I swallow a mouthful of beer. “Sure.” I step back from him, and Pete smiles a little more. His smile doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, and does little to put me at ease. “I’m fine.”
Jared looks at me and shrugs. “We were going to play poker.” He’s already stepping towards the door of their cabin.
I look down at my wrist for the time, but my watch isn’t there-I took it off before I went to bed. “Jared… it’s late… it’s got to be almost three in the morning.” It’s dark-there’s not even moonlight thanks to cloud cover from the storm.
“So?” He replies, and it sounds completely unlike him. “You can go and be a party pooper.” He’s backed over the threshold, and now looks at me from inside their log house, through the open door.
A party pooper? “Aren’t you tired?” Thunder rolls in the distance. The storm’s still far away, but it’s getting closer.
“Not really.” He glances over his shoulder at his friends, who have set up a card table and are handing out stacks of poker chips. “You can go back to bed.” He offers.
Pete comes over to stand next to Jared, beer in one hand, a couple cards in the other. He has a decidedly unfriendly leer on his face as he leans in towards Jared and whispers with a grin, “You don’t want to go with him?” He winks at me.
Jared swats at his face as if he’s a fly. “No!” He says.
“Oh… so you two aren’t…” He gyrates his hips obscenely, grips the bulge in his pants. “… you know…” He says, winking at me again, lecherously. “…fucking…” he hisses conspiratorially.
Jared rolls his eyes, sighs in exasperation. “No, Pete.” He turns and rolls his eyes at me over his shoulder as he turns to walk towards the table. “We’re not… …Jen, are you coming?” He calls, hooking a leg around the leg of a chair, pulling it over to the table for himself. “Close the door either way, will you?”
Pete stands there still, after Jared brushes past him on his way to the poker table, looks at me expectantly.
I debate going back to bed, turn and look longingly at the cabin Jared and I are sharing-the lights are on, and shine through the windows invitingly-the door is closed, but not locked. Thing is… it’s a long way across a muddy clearing and through heavy rains to get back there. I’m already shivering, dripping wet from my last trek across, and the mud hasn’t yet dried on my shoes.
Pete leans into the doorjamb. “Come on.” He says. “Have a beer… stay for the… festivities.” He winks like I should know what he’s talking about, and as I step through the door, closing it behind me, he elbows me lightly in the side, says in a voice that’s quiet enough so only I can hear, “…good thing you’re not fucking… wouldn’t want the queer…” it’s an evil, knowing tone as he jerks his thumb towards Jared… “to have gotten to you before we got to him.”
-------------------------
Characters/Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki; Jensen Ackles / Luanne (OFC); Jared Padalecki/Pete (OMC); Jared/Eric Kripke/JDM; stated Jared/Sandy; stated Jared/Rebecca (OFC) and stated Jared/Ryan (OMC)
POV: Jensen Ackles
Author's Notes: It’s fiction. That means it’s not real, folks. Jensen and Jared are real people. So is Eric Kripke. The show “Supernatural” is a real TV show on the WB11. If anything else in this is real, I wasn’t aware of it.
Summary: Jared’s girl (Sandra) breaks up with him. Jensen tries to help. Things go (rapidly) downhill from there... then fester... then get better?
Come on! Hop in the handbasket! There be room here for everyone!
Spoilers: Overall there’s really nothing to see here… there are a few very vague spoilers for “Bugs” and some minor spoilers for “Faith”, “Bloody Mary” and "Shadow".
-------------------------
Chapter Forty-Two: The Getaway
Rating: R, for language and gore/imagery, adult content
Pairing: getting on towards the promised Jensen/Jared, but we’re still not quite there yet…
Word Count: 2,301
Chapter Forty-Two: The Getaway
The car comes to a screeching, sudden halt at the side of the road, in a squeal of tires and smell of rubber-at least to my heightened senses. I fumble with the seatbelt, eventually getting it undone, then struggle to make my fingers work, unlock the door and open it in one movement. I tumble to my knees in the dirt just in time to see dinner come up.
I don’t know how long I’m on my hands and knees, coughing and retching, spitting saliva and bile and coke into a pile between my hands before Jared’s by my side. I just know it’s not long at all.
Jared’s got a hand on my back, rubbing slow circles to calm me, and even though I’m aware of his touch, aware of the fact that I’m panicking, I can’t get enough control to stop it. I claw at the dirt-it’s dry against my wet hands, my forehead is damp and hot, I feel sweaty. The nausea seems to have passed, and I sit back on my heels, close my eyes and try to breathe. My hands are trembling in my lap.
Jared leans close to me, reaches an arm around me when I shy away. Too close, too close, I think, but then I can’t think anymore. He asks if I’m sick or if it’s a panic attack in a whisper, but I can’t answer him. I’m breathing heavy-short gasps that turn into rasping long ones when it feels like I can’t get enough air, but the long, deep breaths don’t last. “Jenny?” He asks, but I’m too far gone to answer him. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest.
Jared lifts me back into the car. He gets his hands under my arms and just pulls/lifts/tugs until I’m on my ass in the passenger seat, slumped and sprawled, all legs and arms and spit and bile-stained shirt. When he opens the bag with the sandwich the smell makes me lean over and heave again.
He closes it quickly, a napkin in hand, and when I lean back against the seat, head lolling against the headrest, he wipes my mouth for me, nudges my legs into the car. He presses something into my hands, and I hold on to it out of instinct.
“Water.” He says, leaning over me to reach blindly into the backseat, to the floor. He hauls out a black bag, fishes in it until he finds what he wants-two yellow-brown prescription medicine bottles-my medication.
I push weakly at his chest. “No…”
He reaches to unscrew the cap on the water bottle he previously pressed into my hands between my legs, then he fiddles with one of the medicine bottles, I hear the pills rattling.
“Jenny…”
“I’m fine…” I try to whisper, but the words sound garbled even to me.
“You’re not.” He says simply, dropping a pill between my parted lips. “Swallow, Jenny.”
I gulp down water, swallowing the pill with it. Jared takes the bottle away from me, pushing my arm down when my hand follows the bottle, looking for more. His voice is gentle. “Easy, Jen… that’s enough… you just threw up dinner…” His hand comes to my cheek, and it’s warm, soft, grounding. I turn my cheek into the contact, try to sit up straight. “Easy…” He whispers.
I close my eyes, just let myself feel as Jared’s hand stays on my face, his thumb pressing gently at my mouth. My breath is still ragged and shallow, fast-paced as is my heart rate. I try opening my eyes, but close them again quickly as a wave of dizziness washes over me.
“Shhh…” Jared soothes when my breath catches, rasping, a sob caught in my throat.
I sink into the leather upholstery, my body going lax as the drug starts to take effect, and just listen as Jared buckles my seatbelt for me, closes my door. I hear the car engine start up, a quiet, low rumble, followed by wheels over loose gravel and rocks as he pulls back onto the road. One of his hands works its way into mine, and he says my name as he squeezes my hand. “Jenny?”
I can’t squeeze his hand back, so I let my head turn towards his with a murmur of what I’d like to think was his name, but in reality is just a sound.
I’m still working through the dizziness when we arrive at our destination, though it’s dizziness brought on by the Xanax, not from the panic attack anymore. I’m breathing normally, my heart rate has returned to normal, and my hands no longer shake.
Jared hands his credit card to the man at the entrance gate when we pull through. “Supposed to snow this weekend. You two sure are brave.” He says, giving us an odd look while swiping Jared’s card and handing him a key to one of the cabins.
“Yeah.” Jared flashes him a winning smile. “We’re roughing it. ‘Sides, you take what you can get for a weekend away from the wife, right?”
That earns a chuckle from the man, and a wink. “I understand that, man, I do.” He waits for Jared to sign the charge slip. “Y’all be careful up here. No one else is expected all weekend, so… you guys get stranded up here with the weather or you see a bear, you call this number…” He taps an emergency number on the back of the campground brochure, circles it in red before handing it to Jared, along with a copy of the sales receipt and a validated red parking sticker that Jared slaps on my windshield. “Have a good one.”
“Yep. Take care.” Jared rolls up the window and drives through the campgrounds to the cabins, parking between two of the units. The place is abandoned, eerily silent. “Stay here.” He tells me as he exits the car.
When he comes back, I’ve got my seatbelt undone, and I’m sipping at the water he left in the center console cup holder. There are lights on in the cabin to my left, and the front door is open.
Jared takes the water from me. “Come on, Jen.” He says, depositing the water back in the cup holder. I get out of the car, waver on my feet but steady quickly. Jared offers a hand to steady me anyway. “Arm around me, Jen. C’mon.”
That’s another thing I’ve noticed about the Xanax. It makes me more open to suggestion. More compliant. Eddie tells me he knows a couple dommes who would like to see me after I’ve taken it. But he’s always been more into that sort of thing than I have.
I drape my arm around Jared’s shoulders, let him guide me to the cabin. He gets me to the bathroom, where I brush my teeth and take care of business on my own. He points to the bed closest to the bathroom door. “Lie down.” He tells me. I do.
He takes off my shoes for me, and my socks, lets me wriggle out of the heavy sweatshirt I’m wearing. I don’t bother taking off the sweatpants or undershirt.
“You’ll sleep okay?” Jared questions, standing in the bathroom door. He’s already stripped down to his boxers and undershirt.
I nod, mumble, “Sure,” and when the door to the bathroom closes, my eyes do too. I feel myself drifting.
When I wake up hours later, it’s still dark, and I’m still exhausted. It’s the steady drip-drip of water amidst the heavy pounding of torrential rain against the slatted roof of the cabin that wakes me.
I get up, and after looking for a non-existent leak in the ceiling, head into the bathroom to find the sink faucet not completely turned off. I twist the metal knob, seal the tap, and the offending drip ceases.
On the way back to bed, I pass the bed Jared’s sleeping in, notice the sheets are rumpled, pulled off to the side. He’s obviously been there, the bed’s been used, slept in-but he’s not there now. Funny I didn’t notice before.
“Jared?” I call his name, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence by yelling too loudly. I look around the cabin, try his name again when I receive no answer. “Jared?”
The pounding of the rain gets louder, and a flash of lightning casts an eerie whitish glow on my surroundings. I shrug to myself when I don’t see Jared in the sudden burst of light, figure maybe he’s getting something from the car, or that he couldn’t sleep-maybe he got up and passed out on the couch or went out on the porch. I’m about to head back to bed without giving it another thought when a cool breeze draws my attention to the open front door of the cabin.
At the door, I look out through the pouring rain, see Jared on the front porch of the cabin across from ours, talking to a couple of guys. They’re laughing, joking loudly though I can’t make out the words for the storm. I grab my coat and run across the muddy campground to say hi. I’m drenched by the time I get there. Jared’s dripping wet as well, his clothes sodden and sticking to his lanky frame, water running in rivulets through his hair and down his neck.
Jared introduces me. “This is Jensen. Jen, this is Ray… Aaron… and the quiet one over there…” He points to a taller man with black hair, dressed in chinos and a checkered shirt, who’s leaning against the railing, a beer in hand-“…is Pete.”
Pete tips his beer at the sound of his name, and offers a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his baseball-cap shadowed eyes. Jared’s still talking. “…friends of mine from college. They’ve been here since Monday. Imagine our surprise running into each other like this!”
Yeah. Imagine, I think dryly, taking the beer the offer and standing closer to Jared. They may be his friends, but I don’t trust them. Especially Pete in the corner, who’s walking towards us now, still grinning, his clothing impeccably neat-pants ironed with perfect pleats, pressed shirt-and not a hair out of place. His clothes are suspiciously dry. I turn towards Pete when Jared does, keep Jared at my side. I’m aware of him at all times.
When Ray lightly punches Jared’s shoulder, I give him the evil eye, and get a look from Ray that says I’m probably overreacting. Jared steps in close to me. “Jen?” He asks. “You okay? You’re acting really strange.”
I swallow a mouthful of beer. “Sure.” I step back from him, and Pete smiles a little more. His smile doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, and does little to put me at ease. “I’m fine.”
Jared looks at me and shrugs. “We were going to play poker.” He’s already stepping towards the door of their cabin.
I look down at my wrist for the time, but my watch isn’t there-I took it off before I went to bed. “Jared… it’s late… it’s got to be almost three in the morning.” It’s dark-there’s not even moonlight thanks to cloud cover from the storm.
“So?” He replies, and it sounds completely unlike him. “You can go and be a party pooper.” He’s backed over the threshold, and now looks at me from inside their log house, through the open door.
A party pooper? “Aren’t you tired?” Thunder rolls in the distance. The storm’s still far away, but it’s getting closer.
“Not really.” He glances over his shoulder at his friends, who have set up a card table and are handing out stacks of poker chips. “You can go back to bed.” He offers.
Pete comes over to stand next to Jared, beer in one hand, a couple cards in the other. He has a decidedly unfriendly leer on his face as he leans in towards Jared and whispers with a grin, “You don’t want to go with him?” He winks at me.
Jared swats at his face as if he’s a fly. “No!” He says.
“Oh… so you two aren’t…” He gyrates his hips obscenely, grips the bulge in his pants. “… you know…” He says, winking at me again, lecherously. “…fucking…” he hisses conspiratorially.
Jared rolls his eyes, sighs in exasperation. “No, Pete.” He turns and rolls his eyes at me over his shoulder as he turns to walk towards the table. “We’re not… …Jen, are you coming?” He calls, hooking a leg around the leg of a chair, pulling it over to the table for himself. “Close the door either way, will you?”
Pete stands there still, after Jared brushes past him on his way to the poker table, looks at me expectantly.
I debate going back to bed, turn and look longingly at the cabin Jared and I are sharing-the lights are on, and shine through the windows invitingly-the door is closed, but not locked. Thing is… it’s a long way across a muddy clearing and through heavy rains to get back there. I’m already shivering, dripping wet from my last trek across, and the mud hasn’t yet dried on my shoes.
Pete leans into the doorjamb. “Come on.” He says. “Have a beer… stay for the… festivities.” He winks like I should know what he’s talking about, and as I step through the door, closing it behind me, he elbows me lightly in the side, says in a voice that’s quiet enough so only I can hear, “…good thing you’re not fucking… wouldn’t want the queer…” it’s an evil, knowing tone as he jerks his thumb towards Jared… “to have gotten to you before we got to him.”
-------------------------