Ripples in the Water (2/7)
Title: Ripples in the Water
Author: yahnknshadows
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Genre: Dean/Jared; AU
Warnings: AU, slash, mpreg (non-graphic), language, hunting, life
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you! It's all a lie!"
World Count: This part: 4,136; Total: 24,561
Summary: Jared keeps waking up in the wrong place, with people he doesn't know, in a world he doesn't understand, and he falls in love with it.
Beta: Let's all give a rousing round of applause to Sarah <3 <3 <3 <3! Thanks so much for your help, honey!
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Epilogue
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Part II
~*~
It had been four months since the first shift into Sam’s life and he was getting used to waking up in strange places or walking through doors only to find he wasn’t where he’d thought he was going to be.
Jared’s sixteenth birthday dawned with a chorus of loud male snores. He woke up to find Dean’s face two inches from his own and Dean’s knee shoved sharply in his belly. Jared groaned and rolled out of bed, staggered to the bathroom and took a piss before washing his hands and brushing his teeth. It was too early to be awake, but then he was also in the wrong place again.
He washed his face in the sink and then stumbled back into the room, surprised that Dean and John were still asleep. Apparently this motel didn’t have a convenient roll-away like the others Jared had been in with the Winchesters, because Jared and Dean had been sharing.
“Dean, gimme some money and I’ll get some coffee and breakfast,” Jared whispered, trying not to wake John. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently shook Dean’s shoulder. “Dean?”
Dean made a face in his sleep at being shaken awake. He blinked twice and looked at the clock that was on the other side of the bed. Turning towards Jared, he rubbed his eyes. "Huh?" he asked, still half asleep.
“Money, Dean. I need some to go buy food and coffee,” Jared repeated softly, absently rubbing his thumb over the curve of Dean’s shoulder.
"Wallet’s in my jeans," Dean grumbled back and cocked his head slightly. "Just take whatever you need." He looked at Sam a second longer and a little more closely. "Want me to come with you?"
A small smile curved Jared’s mouth and he shook his head. “I’ve got it. Go back to sleep. And if you promise not to knee me in the stomach again, I’ll think about bringing back doughnuts.” He winked, patted Dean’s shoulder, and stood from the bed.
Dean laughed softly and turned his head into the pillow. "Hey, it could have been worse; I could have hit your balls by mistake," he joked softly. "Thanks." He buried his face in the pillow and pulled the blanket up again, half over his head and fell back to sleep in just a few seconds.
Jared shook his head, smiling fondly at Dean’s ability to drop off to sleep at a moment’s notice. He turned only to realize that John was watching him with a confused frown on his face. “What?” Jared prompted curiously, scratching his hip.
But, John just shook his head and dropped it back down on the pillow, obviously giving up on whatever he had been trying to figure out. Jared chalked it up to John dreaming and set about getting dressed. He took a pair of tens from Dean’s wallet and shoved them into his hoodie pocket, grabbed a key, and headed out.
Luckily, the motel wasn’t too far from a coffee shop. Jared got three tall, plain black coffees, three jelly, four chocolate and Bavarian crème, and five plain glazed doughnuts. Jared had already eaten a Bavarian crème and drank a third of his coffee by the time he got back, too hungry and in need of caffeine to wait.
“Breakfast,” Jared called as he made his way inside, balancing his burdens carefully to make sure not to spill.
Dean lifted his head and blinked twice as Jared came back in. He pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on and heading into the bathroom. He was only there a minute or two and came out looking just about ready to drop back into dreamland. That wouldn't change until he'd had coffee, though, Jared had come to discover.
"Sam, did I ever tell you that you're my favorite person?" Dean smirked as he took one of the coffees and sat down at the small table to the side of the room by the window. He looked over, saw food, and grabbed the first thing he saw and sat back in the chair.
Jared snorted and shook his head. He made his way over to John and handed off the last cup and a jelly doughnut before plopping down on his and Dean’s bed to nurse his coffee. John stared at him like he’d gone crazy and Jared frowned at him. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, I’m wondering when you got possessed.” John took a bite out of his doughnut, contemplating his youngest.
“What? I can’t be nice on my birthday?” Jared asked petulantly, regretting his coffee and food run if it was going to draw suspicion.
Dean took a good mouthful of his coffee, still hot and tasty. His eyes shifted from his father and then back to Sam for a second. "Sam, your birthday was two months ago," he said. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Jared froze for a moment, darted a look between Dean and John, and then snorted. “At least now I know you pay attention to things like that.” It came out awkward and unsettled, but there was nothing he could do about it. It kind of sucked that he wouldn’t get to celebrate with a party and presents and friends over and his mother’s famous barbecue ribs, but he was starting to like being with John and Dean.
His gaze flicked over Dean briefly, taking in the sleep tussled hair, the pillow creases on his cheek, and the adulation on his face when he took a sip of coffee. Yeah, Jared liked being here as much as Sam liked getting away.
~*~
John had been gone barely three hours. Jared and Dean had been left behind in a rickety shack that had all of three rooms. The main room-since it couldn’t be called a “living room” by any stretch of the imagination-had a couch and black and white TV on one side, a two-seater breakfast table done up in puke green and only had three legs, a pair of counters, a stove, refrigerator, and a coffee pot. The bedroom had a cramped double bed, a stack of milk crates in place of a dresser, and a broken window that had plastic stretched over it. The third room was a combination laundry room slash bathroom.
The only thing the house had going for it was the washer and dryer. The pipes groaned and screamed when the shower was turned on, the toilet barely flushed, the drain in the tub was clogged just enough to make the drain slow but not stop, and the walls were a color on par with baby shit. There wasn’t a curtain in the entire house, so Dean spent the first hour nailing towels up over the windows to keep people from looking inside, while Jared took on the chore of scrubbing the green and black mold off of the wall in the bedroom. Suffice to say the place was a dump, even by Winchester standards.
The second hour was spent buying staple foods, such as bread, milk, eggs, and juice, along with a vast array of canned foods. Jared had never wished he knew how to cook before that shopping trip, but he was determined to have his mother teach him to make something healthy, cheap, and relatively easy when he got back home. Luckily, Jared and Sam’s visits in each other’s lives generally only lasted a couple of days at the most and were spread apart by a minimum of two weeks. Jared was confident that he could learn how to make something in that time.
Now, Jared was plunked down on the floor in front of the television with several books and Sam’s notebook, writing down his adventures so far and keeping him up-to-date the same way Sam was doing back in Jared’s own home. “Can you cook anything, Dean, or are we just going to Chef Boyardee it while J-while dad’s gone?” he asked absently. He’d never seen Dean cook, but then he wasn’t around most of the time and usually when he was around they were all piled up in the car or in a motel room, so cooking wasn’t exactly an option.
Dean was in the kitchen putting what they had picked up away as he moved through the room. He shrugged and joined Jared in the main room. "Sam, I've never been able to cook, you know that. We got Mac and Cheese, though. I'm fairly sure I can handle that."
Jared slowly lifted his head and turned to look at Dean. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how the hell Dean had managed to keep Sam alive if he fed them diner food or cans of ravioli or Mac and Cheese, but he swallowed back the urge. “We could make some hot dogs to go with it? Mac and Cheese by itself doesn’t sound all that appealing.”
"Okay, we’ll do that. We grabbed hot dog buns, too." Dean leaned back into the couch. "You want to eat now?"
“Not really. I want a shower, but I don’t want to listen to it scream like a dying cat while I’m in there.” Jared groaned and dropped his head onto Dean’s knee, and left it there. “I wonder if d-dad picked this place on purpose. There’s no way that this place has been lived in for at least fifty years.”
Dean looked down at Jared’s tussled hair. He shook his head and frowned, unsure how he felt about affectionate Sam. "I doubt it, Sammy; he was just in a rush. I don't think he paid much attention."
“That’s comforting,” Jared snorted and straightened. “Well, I’m gonna skip dinner, skip the shower, and go straight to bed.” He got to his feet and stretched his arms up over his head, letting his spine pop before relaxing again. “Night, Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes and watched Sam get up. "Okay, seriously, dude," he started when Sam headed towards the next room. "I am not sleeping on this thing. You take the couch."
“Fuck you, jerk. I’m too tall to sleep on that thing. You sleep there, shorty.” Jared didn’t bother to stick around. He stalked off into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, stripping his shirt off as he went.
Dean was right on his heels and shoved the door open. "What the fuck, Sam, you think you can slam a door in my face and I'm going to go away?" he snapped. "I slept sitting up in the front seat of the car all last night while you laid out on the backseat so either your ass is sharing or get on the damn floor."
“Fine, I’ll share, but if you knee me in the balls, you can bet I’ll be shaving your head.” Jared stripped out of his jeans, left them in a pile on the floor with his shirt, and crawled into bed in just his boxers.
"Sure, cross my heart and all that crap." Dean rubbed at the back of his neck and then started to undress, too tired himself to worry about eating. He hit the light and crawled into bed with his brother. Turning over onto his stomach, he sighed. The bed wasn't awesome but it could have been worse.
Jared rolled over to face the wall, with Dean at his back. “And you’d better can any ideas you’ve got of making me the little spoon. That falls under the same heading as kneeing me in the balls.”
"This coming from the octopus?" Dean laughed softly as he pulled the blanket up and moved up onto his pillow, burying his face.
“And you’re the king of revenge,” Jared pointed out, wriggling a bit to get comfortable.
"Oh please, like my baby brother scares me?" Dean asked with an eye-roll.
Jared shivered at the term ‘my baby brother’, but ignored the implication. “Good night, shorty.”
"Don't make me kick your overgrown ass out of bed," Dean mumbled and finally fell asleep.
~*~
When Jared woke, it was incredibly early. Sometime in the night, Dean had stolen all of the blankets and left him shivering in the chilly morning air. He grumbled and blindly groped for the blankets, only to find them wrapped tightly around Dean. With a soft whine, Jared pried his eyes open with every intention of bitching and whining until Dean gave up at least part of the blanket, only to stop and stare.
Dean had scooted over in the middle of the night and his head rested on the pillow with Jared’s, barely an inch between their noses. A sleep heavy arm, warm and lax, was draped over Jared’s hips. Jared sucked in a sharp, quiet breath and stared at just how pretty Dean was when he was asleep.
Awake, Dean was gorgeous and cocky about it, but sleeping he looked as peaceful and innocent as a five year old. Well, he would if five year olds were allowed to look as delicious as Dean did, without it being creepy.
It was Dean’s fault. How dare he lay there looking sweet and sexy and adorable? How dare he lay there, blissfully dead to the world, full lips parted and thick lashes fanned over freckle-dusted cheeks? It was entirely Dean’s fault that Jared leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s and held the soft kiss beyond what could be considered innocent.
Dean was dead asleep so he didn't pull back when Jared's lips brushed against his. He moved into the kiss, reacting to it, gentle and welcoming. All at once, however, he seemed to realize who he was in bed with and his eyes flew open. "Sam, what the fuck?" Dean yelled, pulling back and falling out of the bed. He fell onto his ass hard and took the blankets with him. He pushed himself up and threw the blanket off.
“I’m sorry!” Jared bolted upright in bed and put his hands out as though to ward Dean off. “I was… I was dreaming! I’m so sorry, man!”
"Bullshit! Your eyes were open!" Dean snapped back. "What the fuck is going on, Sam?" he demanded as he stood up, looking Sam over as if he were crazy.
Jared scrambled back, eyes huge in his face, and stared at Dean like a deer caught in headlights. “I-I swear. I… I, it was an a-accident!”
"No, something’s up with you," Dean snapped. "I mean, you just tried to make out with your brother! I think you owe me a little more than stupid fucking platitudes."
“You’re not my brother,” Jared admitted quietly. “My name is Jared Padalecki. I… Sam and I have been swapping lives for, uh, about nine months now.”
Dean swallowed and looked at him but didn't say anything at first. "Excuse me?" he asked.
Jared scrubbed his fists into his eyes to wipe away the tears building there before they could fall and Dean could pick on him about being a girl. “I’ve been here a f-few times. John was driving and you were in the front seat. I think we were on our way to h-hunt a werewolf. I didn’t know who you guys were until I came back the second time. Sam had left me notes in his notebook.”
Jared had helped lay the salt lines when they had gotten here, had helped Dean clean the weapons before John took off, some of which were silver. Those things alone proved Jared wasn’t anything supernatural. "The skinwalker hunt?" he asked. "The fuck up with the guns last month? Where is my brother?" he demanded.
Jared nodded and said, “H-he’s at home. My home. With my mom and dad and older brother and younger sister. I can show you our notebook?”
Dean shook his head. "Where's home?" he asked. "Notebook?"
“San Antonio, Texas,” Jared replied and scrambled off of the bed, keeping his distance from Dean in case he decided to beat him up for lying to them for so long. Jared rushed out into the main room and snatched the notebook up from the pile of books and brought it back to the bedroom, tossed it to Dean and snatched his jeans on in case he needed to get out of there fast.
Dean caught the book and watched Jared for a moment before looking down and flipping the back open. There were entries about their dad, about Dean, their life of hunting. Then there were Jared's entries, asking questions and making comments about shit that had happened, all in a vastly different handwriting.
Dean moved through to the main room and sat down, reading carefully. He shook his head as he read. He swallowed hard and kept reading, minute after minute went by as Dean relived the last nine months through the journal, unsure what to make of this.
“It’s safe where I’m from. At least, I couldn’t find anything when I tried to look up hunts while I was home.” Jared stood warily in the doorway between the bedroom and the main room. “I even looked up the newspaper articles about the skinwalker hunt and nothing like that has ever happened.”
"So, a world without…" Dean wasn't sure what to say. What could he say? Sam was in another world somewhere. He cleared his throat and closed the notebook, rubbing his eyes. "How much time have you spent here with us?"
“I’ve been here two days,” Jared answered immediately. “I turned sixteen five months ago. Sam got to have my party with my friends and family. He says that you guys don’t really do that kind of thing, so I’m glad he got to have that.”
Dean nodded, looking down. "He's wanted a surprise party since he was eight," he mumbled after a second.
“He’ll be back soon, I promise.” Jared shuffled his feet and stared at the floor, feeling vastly out of place and very awkward.
"You like it here though, don't you?" Dean asked, looking back up at Jared.
Jared’s eyes flicked quickly over Dean and then just as quickly away. “Some things are better here,” he answered softly, shrugging. “I’ve always liked adventures and ghost stories, and I used to wish I could be the hero in the tall tales we heard in school. Sam just likes having his own room and living in the same place all the time.”
Dean closed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, heading into the kitchen. "I need a fucking drink," he said and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the hardest drink he could find, and taking a mouthful.
Rather than bother Dean, Jared backed up and closed the bedroom door, twisting the lock behind him. He sagged against the door for a long minute, and then swiped his shirt from the floor, yanked it on over his head.
Jared sat down on the side of the bed and braced his elbows on his knees, head hanging between his shoulders. Sam, if he could find a way, was going to kill him for telling Dean about this. And there was no way in hell Jared would admit that his crush on Dean was the reason Dean found out.
Dean took another long drink and set the bottle down. He just let Jared be for the time being. Pushing himself up, he sat on the counter for several minutes and took another drink or two, just mulling things over for a while.
Finally Dean got up and went to the bedroom door. He knocked and waited a moment. "Jared, I swear to God I will kick this door down if you don't open it."
The lock clicked and the door opened a few moments later, and Jared turned his back, heading back to sit on the side of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, nervous and fidgeting. “I thought-I thought you wanted to be alone for a minute.”
Dean shook his head and followed Jared inside. "You lied to me," he said simply. "You put yourself in danger, going on hunts when you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, Jared. Why the hell would you do that?" he yelled, getting madder as he went on. "I mean, Jesus Christ, have you ever even held a fucking gun in your life? And you're out trying to take down skinwalkers and vampires? You could have gotten yourself killed, you moron!" He got louder, getting in Jared's face.
“I didn’t have a choice!” Jared yelled back. “Do you honestly think that John wouldn’t have performed every single exorcism and bloodletting rite and test on me if I’d said, ‘Hey, I have no idea who you people are. Can you pull over and let me out’? He’d have fucking crucified me!”
"You think I would have let him?" Dean bellowed back. "Besides, you had nine months to come clean and you didn't, you jackass."
“What was I supposed to do? Huh?” Jared shoved Dean back, too freaked out to handle having the other man close to him at the moment. “John is fucking terrifying! And you, God, Dean, look at it from my perspective! You handle weapons like you were born with them in your hands, you’ve got all this military style training and you could probably rip someone apart with your bare hands. Would you be able to just tell someone like that the absolute truth if you had no idea how to defend yourself?”
Dean put his hands up and backed away. “Did I break your neck and bury you in the backyard?” he asked, glaring at Jared. “As far as I can tell, you just told me everything and you’re standing here in one piece. All the shit you’ve done, that Sam would never think to pull, but you’re still standing here.” He turned away a second. “You think I didn’t know that something was going on? I was ignoring it, I’ll give you that, but I fucking raised my brother.”
“What good would it have done, to tell you I mean? You can’t change it, can’t stop me and Sam from swapping lives at random. It would’ve pissed you off, and made you worry, and make you hate me for stealing your precious little brother.” Jared stood from the bed and made to go around Dean, heading for the door.
Dean grabbed Jared’s arm and for the first time Jared felt just how strong Dean was when he slammed him back hard against the wall. Dean’s eyes burned into Jared’s face. “You have any idea what kind of mind game you’ve been fucking me up with?” he demanded. “What kind of a person you had me thinking I was, ready to pounce someone I helped to freaking parent? You stupid son of a bitch, you’re lucky I don’t beat the living fuck out of you,” he growled, his voice laced with betrayal and smears of relief. He pushed Jared again, away this time, and grabbed his keys.
Confusion colored Jared’s face, twisting his brows and lips. “What are you talking about?” he called after Dean. His hands were shaking, but he stood his ground. “I never did anything to you before today, and I didn’t mean to do that. I-I wouldn’t have if, if I’d have been thinking.”
“You think Sam would rub my shoulder or grab my hand the way you do? You give me this look sometimes, Jared, like you’re interested, and when Sam’s here it’s gone. So, then I think: fuck, it’s all in my head, and then I blink and it’s back again,” Dean explained, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You know, you were right; I need a minute, a long one.” He stalked out the front door, slamming it behind him even though he didn’t get further than the front steps.
Pale and wobbly, Jared made his way to the couch and grabbed the notebook, flipping rapidly to the first clean page. He grabbed his pencil from the floor and started filling Sam in on what had happened, that Dean had found out and how it was all Jared’s fault. He didn’t go into detail, didn’t tell Sam how, exactly, Dean found out, or about the strange conversation and yelling match that had happened. He just warned Sam that Dean was pissed and to expect a possible brawl over it.
When he was done, Jared tucked the pencil inside the notebook and made his way silently to the kitchen area. He opened the fridge to get some juice only to realize he was home once again. Jared sagged to his knees in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, dreading for the first time going back and having to face Dean again.
Part III
Author: yahnknshadows
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Genre: Dean/Jared; AU
Warnings: AU, slash, mpreg (non-graphic), language, hunting, life
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you! It's all a lie!"
World Count: This part: 4,136; Total: 24,561
Summary: Jared keeps waking up in the wrong place, with people he doesn't know, in a world he doesn't understand, and he falls in love with it.
Beta: Let's all give a rousing round of applause to Sarah <3 <3 <3 <3! Thanks so much for your help, honey!
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Epilogue
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Part II
~*~
It had been four months since the first shift into Sam’s life and he was getting used to waking up in strange places or walking through doors only to find he wasn’t where he’d thought he was going to be.
Jared’s sixteenth birthday dawned with a chorus of loud male snores. He woke up to find Dean’s face two inches from his own and Dean’s knee shoved sharply in his belly. Jared groaned and rolled out of bed, staggered to the bathroom and took a piss before washing his hands and brushing his teeth. It was too early to be awake, but then he was also in the wrong place again.
He washed his face in the sink and then stumbled back into the room, surprised that Dean and John were still asleep. Apparently this motel didn’t have a convenient roll-away like the others Jared had been in with the Winchesters, because Jared and Dean had been sharing.
“Dean, gimme some money and I’ll get some coffee and breakfast,” Jared whispered, trying not to wake John. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently shook Dean’s shoulder. “Dean?”
Dean made a face in his sleep at being shaken awake. He blinked twice and looked at the clock that was on the other side of the bed. Turning towards Jared, he rubbed his eyes. "Huh?" he asked, still half asleep.
“Money, Dean. I need some to go buy food and coffee,” Jared repeated softly, absently rubbing his thumb over the curve of Dean’s shoulder.
"Wallet’s in my jeans," Dean grumbled back and cocked his head slightly. "Just take whatever you need." He looked at Sam a second longer and a little more closely. "Want me to come with you?"
A small smile curved Jared’s mouth and he shook his head. “I’ve got it. Go back to sleep. And if you promise not to knee me in the stomach again, I’ll think about bringing back doughnuts.” He winked, patted Dean’s shoulder, and stood from the bed.
Dean laughed softly and turned his head into the pillow. "Hey, it could have been worse; I could have hit your balls by mistake," he joked softly. "Thanks." He buried his face in the pillow and pulled the blanket up again, half over his head and fell back to sleep in just a few seconds.
Jared shook his head, smiling fondly at Dean’s ability to drop off to sleep at a moment’s notice. He turned only to realize that John was watching him with a confused frown on his face. “What?” Jared prompted curiously, scratching his hip.
But, John just shook his head and dropped it back down on the pillow, obviously giving up on whatever he had been trying to figure out. Jared chalked it up to John dreaming and set about getting dressed. He took a pair of tens from Dean’s wallet and shoved them into his hoodie pocket, grabbed a key, and headed out.
Luckily, the motel wasn’t too far from a coffee shop. Jared got three tall, plain black coffees, three jelly, four chocolate and Bavarian crème, and five plain glazed doughnuts. Jared had already eaten a Bavarian crème and drank a third of his coffee by the time he got back, too hungry and in need of caffeine to wait.
“Breakfast,” Jared called as he made his way inside, balancing his burdens carefully to make sure not to spill.
Dean lifted his head and blinked twice as Jared came back in. He pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on and heading into the bathroom. He was only there a minute or two and came out looking just about ready to drop back into dreamland. That wouldn't change until he'd had coffee, though, Jared had come to discover.
"Sam, did I ever tell you that you're my favorite person?" Dean smirked as he took one of the coffees and sat down at the small table to the side of the room by the window. He looked over, saw food, and grabbed the first thing he saw and sat back in the chair.
Jared snorted and shook his head. He made his way over to John and handed off the last cup and a jelly doughnut before plopping down on his and Dean’s bed to nurse his coffee. John stared at him like he’d gone crazy and Jared frowned at him. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, I’m wondering when you got possessed.” John took a bite out of his doughnut, contemplating his youngest.
“What? I can’t be nice on my birthday?” Jared asked petulantly, regretting his coffee and food run if it was going to draw suspicion.
Dean took a good mouthful of his coffee, still hot and tasty. His eyes shifted from his father and then back to Sam for a second. "Sam, your birthday was two months ago," he said. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Jared froze for a moment, darted a look between Dean and John, and then snorted. “At least now I know you pay attention to things like that.” It came out awkward and unsettled, but there was nothing he could do about it. It kind of sucked that he wouldn’t get to celebrate with a party and presents and friends over and his mother’s famous barbecue ribs, but he was starting to like being with John and Dean.
His gaze flicked over Dean briefly, taking in the sleep tussled hair, the pillow creases on his cheek, and the adulation on his face when he took a sip of coffee. Yeah, Jared liked being here as much as Sam liked getting away.
~*~
John had been gone barely three hours. Jared and Dean had been left behind in a rickety shack that had all of three rooms. The main room-since it couldn’t be called a “living room” by any stretch of the imagination-had a couch and black and white TV on one side, a two-seater breakfast table done up in puke green and only had three legs, a pair of counters, a stove, refrigerator, and a coffee pot. The bedroom had a cramped double bed, a stack of milk crates in place of a dresser, and a broken window that had plastic stretched over it. The third room was a combination laundry room slash bathroom.
The only thing the house had going for it was the washer and dryer. The pipes groaned and screamed when the shower was turned on, the toilet barely flushed, the drain in the tub was clogged just enough to make the drain slow but not stop, and the walls were a color on par with baby shit. There wasn’t a curtain in the entire house, so Dean spent the first hour nailing towels up over the windows to keep people from looking inside, while Jared took on the chore of scrubbing the green and black mold off of the wall in the bedroom. Suffice to say the place was a dump, even by Winchester standards.
The second hour was spent buying staple foods, such as bread, milk, eggs, and juice, along with a vast array of canned foods. Jared had never wished he knew how to cook before that shopping trip, but he was determined to have his mother teach him to make something healthy, cheap, and relatively easy when he got back home. Luckily, Jared and Sam’s visits in each other’s lives generally only lasted a couple of days at the most and were spread apart by a minimum of two weeks. Jared was confident that he could learn how to make something in that time.
Now, Jared was plunked down on the floor in front of the television with several books and Sam’s notebook, writing down his adventures so far and keeping him up-to-date the same way Sam was doing back in Jared’s own home. “Can you cook anything, Dean, or are we just going to Chef Boyardee it while J-while dad’s gone?” he asked absently. He’d never seen Dean cook, but then he wasn’t around most of the time and usually when he was around they were all piled up in the car or in a motel room, so cooking wasn’t exactly an option.
Dean was in the kitchen putting what they had picked up away as he moved through the room. He shrugged and joined Jared in the main room. "Sam, I've never been able to cook, you know that. We got Mac and Cheese, though. I'm fairly sure I can handle that."
Jared slowly lifted his head and turned to look at Dean. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how the hell Dean had managed to keep Sam alive if he fed them diner food or cans of ravioli or Mac and Cheese, but he swallowed back the urge. “We could make some hot dogs to go with it? Mac and Cheese by itself doesn’t sound all that appealing.”
"Okay, we’ll do that. We grabbed hot dog buns, too." Dean leaned back into the couch. "You want to eat now?"
“Not really. I want a shower, but I don’t want to listen to it scream like a dying cat while I’m in there.” Jared groaned and dropped his head onto Dean’s knee, and left it there. “I wonder if d-dad picked this place on purpose. There’s no way that this place has been lived in for at least fifty years.”
Dean looked down at Jared’s tussled hair. He shook his head and frowned, unsure how he felt about affectionate Sam. "I doubt it, Sammy; he was just in a rush. I don't think he paid much attention."
“That’s comforting,” Jared snorted and straightened. “Well, I’m gonna skip dinner, skip the shower, and go straight to bed.” He got to his feet and stretched his arms up over his head, letting his spine pop before relaxing again. “Night, Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes and watched Sam get up. "Okay, seriously, dude," he started when Sam headed towards the next room. "I am not sleeping on this thing. You take the couch."
“Fuck you, jerk. I’m too tall to sleep on that thing. You sleep there, shorty.” Jared didn’t bother to stick around. He stalked off into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, stripping his shirt off as he went.
Dean was right on his heels and shoved the door open. "What the fuck, Sam, you think you can slam a door in my face and I'm going to go away?" he snapped. "I slept sitting up in the front seat of the car all last night while you laid out on the backseat so either your ass is sharing or get on the damn floor."
“Fine, I’ll share, but if you knee me in the balls, you can bet I’ll be shaving your head.” Jared stripped out of his jeans, left them in a pile on the floor with his shirt, and crawled into bed in just his boxers.
"Sure, cross my heart and all that crap." Dean rubbed at the back of his neck and then started to undress, too tired himself to worry about eating. He hit the light and crawled into bed with his brother. Turning over onto his stomach, he sighed. The bed wasn't awesome but it could have been worse.
Jared rolled over to face the wall, with Dean at his back. “And you’d better can any ideas you’ve got of making me the little spoon. That falls under the same heading as kneeing me in the balls.”
"This coming from the octopus?" Dean laughed softly as he pulled the blanket up and moved up onto his pillow, burying his face.
“And you’re the king of revenge,” Jared pointed out, wriggling a bit to get comfortable.
"Oh please, like my baby brother scares me?" Dean asked with an eye-roll.
Jared shivered at the term ‘my baby brother’, but ignored the implication. “Good night, shorty.”
"Don't make me kick your overgrown ass out of bed," Dean mumbled and finally fell asleep.
~*~
When Jared woke, it was incredibly early. Sometime in the night, Dean had stolen all of the blankets and left him shivering in the chilly morning air. He grumbled and blindly groped for the blankets, only to find them wrapped tightly around Dean. With a soft whine, Jared pried his eyes open with every intention of bitching and whining until Dean gave up at least part of the blanket, only to stop and stare.
Dean had scooted over in the middle of the night and his head rested on the pillow with Jared’s, barely an inch between their noses. A sleep heavy arm, warm and lax, was draped over Jared’s hips. Jared sucked in a sharp, quiet breath and stared at just how pretty Dean was when he was asleep.
Awake, Dean was gorgeous and cocky about it, but sleeping he looked as peaceful and innocent as a five year old. Well, he would if five year olds were allowed to look as delicious as Dean did, without it being creepy.
It was Dean’s fault. How dare he lay there looking sweet and sexy and adorable? How dare he lay there, blissfully dead to the world, full lips parted and thick lashes fanned over freckle-dusted cheeks? It was entirely Dean’s fault that Jared leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s and held the soft kiss beyond what could be considered innocent.
Dean was dead asleep so he didn't pull back when Jared's lips brushed against his. He moved into the kiss, reacting to it, gentle and welcoming. All at once, however, he seemed to realize who he was in bed with and his eyes flew open. "Sam, what the fuck?" Dean yelled, pulling back and falling out of the bed. He fell onto his ass hard and took the blankets with him. He pushed himself up and threw the blanket off.
“I’m sorry!” Jared bolted upright in bed and put his hands out as though to ward Dean off. “I was… I was dreaming! I’m so sorry, man!”
"Bullshit! Your eyes were open!" Dean snapped back. "What the fuck is going on, Sam?" he demanded as he stood up, looking Sam over as if he were crazy.
Jared scrambled back, eyes huge in his face, and stared at Dean like a deer caught in headlights. “I-I swear. I… I, it was an a-accident!”
"No, something’s up with you," Dean snapped. "I mean, you just tried to make out with your brother! I think you owe me a little more than stupid fucking platitudes."
“You’re not my brother,” Jared admitted quietly. “My name is Jared Padalecki. I… Sam and I have been swapping lives for, uh, about nine months now.”
Dean swallowed and looked at him but didn't say anything at first. "Excuse me?" he asked.
Jared scrubbed his fists into his eyes to wipe away the tears building there before they could fall and Dean could pick on him about being a girl. “I’ve been here a f-few times. John was driving and you were in the front seat. I think we were on our way to h-hunt a werewolf. I didn’t know who you guys were until I came back the second time. Sam had left me notes in his notebook.”
Jared had helped lay the salt lines when they had gotten here, had helped Dean clean the weapons before John took off, some of which were silver. Those things alone proved Jared wasn’t anything supernatural. "The skinwalker hunt?" he asked. "The fuck up with the guns last month? Where is my brother?" he demanded.
Jared nodded and said, “H-he’s at home. My home. With my mom and dad and older brother and younger sister. I can show you our notebook?”
Dean shook his head. "Where's home?" he asked. "Notebook?"
“San Antonio, Texas,” Jared replied and scrambled off of the bed, keeping his distance from Dean in case he decided to beat him up for lying to them for so long. Jared rushed out into the main room and snatched the notebook up from the pile of books and brought it back to the bedroom, tossed it to Dean and snatched his jeans on in case he needed to get out of there fast.
Dean caught the book and watched Jared for a moment before looking down and flipping the back open. There were entries about their dad, about Dean, their life of hunting. Then there were Jared's entries, asking questions and making comments about shit that had happened, all in a vastly different handwriting.
Dean moved through to the main room and sat down, reading carefully. He shook his head as he read. He swallowed hard and kept reading, minute after minute went by as Dean relived the last nine months through the journal, unsure what to make of this.
“It’s safe where I’m from. At least, I couldn’t find anything when I tried to look up hunts while I was home.” Jared stood warily in the doorway between the bedroom and the main room. “I even looked up the newspaper articles about the skinwalker hunt and nothing like that has ever happened.”
"So, a world without…" Dean wasn't sure what to say. What could he say? Sam was in another world somewhere. He cleared his throat and closed the notebook, rubbing his eyes. "How much time have you spent here with us?"
“I’ve been here two days,” Jared answered immediately. “I turned sixteen five months ago. Sam got to have my party with my friends and family. He says that you guys don’t really do that kind of thing, so I’m glad he got to have that.”
Dean nodded, looking down. "He's wanted a surprise party since he was eight," he mumbled after a second.
“He’ll be back soon, I promise.” Jared shuffled his feet and stared at the floor, feeling vastly out of place and very awkward.
"You like it here though, don't you?" Dean asked, looking back up at Jared.
Jared’s eyes flicked quickly over Dean and then just as quickly away. “Some things are better here,” he answered softly, shrugging. “I’ve always liked adventures and ghost stories, and I used to wish I could be the hero in the tall tales we heard in school. Sam just likes having his own room and living in the same place all the time.”
Dean closed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, heading into the kitchen. "I need a fucking drink," he said and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the hardest drink he could find, and taking a mouthful.
Rather than bother Dean, Jared backed up and closed the bedroom door, twisting the lock behind him. He sagged against the door for a long minute, and then swiped his shirt from the floor, yanked it on over his head.
Jared sat down on the side of the bed and braced his elbows on his knees, head hanging between his shoulders. Sam, if he could find a way, was going to kill him for telling Dean about this. And there was no way in hell Jared would admit that his crush on Dean was the reason Dean found out.
Dean took another long drink and set the bottle down. He just let Jared be for the time being. Pushing himself up, he sat on the counter for several minutes and took another drink or two, just mulling things over for a while.
Finally Dean got up and went to the bedroom door. He knocked and waited a moment. "Jared, I swear to God I will kick this door down if you don't open it."
The lock clicked and the door opened a few moments later, and Jared turned his back, heading back to sit on the side of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, nervous and fidgeting. “I thought-I thought you wanted to be alone for a minute.”
Dean shook his head and followed Jared inside. "You lied to me," he said simply. "You put yourself in danger, going on hunts when you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, Jared. Why the hell would you do that?" he yelled, getting madder as he went on. "I mean, Jesus Christ, have you ever even held a fucking gun in your life? And you're out trying to take down skinwalkers and vampires? You could have gotten yourself killed, you moron!" He got louder, getting in Jared's face.
“I didn’t have a choice!” Jared yelled back. “Do you honestly think that John wouldn’t have performed every single exorcism and bloodletting rite and test on me if I’d said, ‘Hey, I have no idea who you people are. Can you pull over and let me out’? He’d have fucking crucified me!”
"You think I would have let him?" Dean bellowed back. "Besides, you had nine months to come clean and you didn't, you jackass."
“What was I supposed to do? Huh?” Jared shoved Dean back, too freaked out to handle having the other man close to him at the moment. “John is fucking terrifying! And you, God, Dean, look at it from my perspective! You handle weapons like you were born with them in your hands, you’ve got all this military style training and you could probably rip someone apart with your bare hands. Would you be able to just tell someone like that the absolute truth if you had no idea how to defend yourself?”
Dean put his hands up and backed away. “Did I break your neck and bury you in the backyard?” he asked, glaring at Jared. “As far as I can tell, you just told me everything and you’re standing here in one piece. All the shit you’ve done, that Sam would never think to pull, but you’re still standing here.” He turned away a second. “You think I didn’t know that something was going on? I was ignoring it, I’ll give you that, but I fucking raised my brother.”
“What good would it have done, to tell you I mean? You can’t change it, can’t stop me and Sam from swapping lives at random. It would’ve pissed you off, and made you worry, and make you hate me for stealing your precious little brother.” Jared stood from the bed and made to go around Dean, heading for the door.
Dean grabbed Jared’s arm and for the first time Jared felt just how strong Dean was when he slammed him back hard against the wall. Dean’s eyes burned into Jared’s face. “You have any idea what kind of mind game you’ve been fucking me up with?” he demanded. “What kind of a person you had me thinking I was, ready to pounce someone I helped to freaking parent? You stupid son of a bitch, you’re lucky I don’t beat the living fuck out of you,” he growled, his voice laced with betrayal and smears of relief. He pushed Jared again, away this time, and grabbed his keys.
Confusion colored Jared’s face, twisting his brows and lips. “What are you talking about?” he called after Dean. His hands were shaking, but he stood his ground. “I never did anything to you before today, and I didn’t mean to do that. I-I wouldn’t have if, if I’d have been thinking.”
“You think Sam would rub my shoulder or grab my hand the way you do? You give me this look sometimes, Jared, like you’re interested, and when Sam’s here it’s gone. So, then I think: fuck, it’s all in my head, and then I blink and it’s back again,” Dean explained, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You know, you were right; I need a minute, a long one.” He stalked out the front door, slamming it behind him even though he didn’t get further than the front steps.
Pale and wobbly, Jared made his way to the couch and grabbed the notebook, flipping rapidly to the first clean page. He grabbed his pencil from the floor and started filling Sam in on what had happened, that Dean had found out and how it was all Jared’s fault. He didn’t go into detail, didn’t tell Sam how, exactly, Dean found out, or about the strange conversation and yelling match that had happened. He just warned Sam that Dean was pissed and to expect a possible brawl over it.
When he was done, Jared tucked the pencil inside the notebook and made his way silently to the kitchen area. He opened the fridge to get some juice only to realize he was home once again. Jared sagged to his knees in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, dreading for the first time going back and having to face Dean again.
Part III