Ripples in the Water (4/7)
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: 3,971; 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 IV
~*~
Jared wasn't useless at this by any means, but that didn't mean that Dean trusted him with guns and knives yet. Besides, John had called and said he would be a while longer. So, for now the beat up old house was home and there weren't any wolves or vampires in the state so there were no hunts that Jared could get caught up in. Dean could protect him here but it was when he went back home that was the problem.
They were out in what passed as the backyard; Dean was in a stance behind Jared. His steps were soft and silent. Jared's back was to him and he tried to pick up on how Dean would attack and from what angle. So far, Dean had taken Jared down twice in a row.
It was hot out but the sun had started to go down so it was getting cooler as the breeze started to pick up. Dean gave no warning and attacked Jared from the left hand side, his movements quick as he kicked out, and knocked Jared's legs out from under him.
Jared hit the dirt with a grunt and rolled to the side, pushing himself up as fast as he could, despite the ache in his elbows from his landing and his bruised pride. He swiped sweat from his eyes and rolled his shoulders to work out a kink, and then closed his eyes again. “I still think that I should learn how to fight opponents that I can see before I start working on the ones I can’t.”
"I'm not trying to get you beat anyone here, but you have to start learning how to pay attention, listen to where your opponent is, and know what they’re going to do before they do it," Dean explained. "I mean, yeah, learning to throw a few kicks and punches is all great, but it's not going to get you anywhere in the long run."
“Fine,” Jared sighed. “But it’s been my experience that bullies tend to make lots of noise when they’re coming after you.”
"You enjoy just being difficult, don't you?" Dean asked as he stepped around in front of Jared, a few feet away. "Alright, fine, first bit of basics; you want to take someone down, you get their feet out from under them. Weakest points: throat, groin and kneecaps, but you have to make sure you don't lose your balance. Next is punching; you need a clean shot, quick and to the point; hit the stomach, sides and face, you want to tire the fucker out. Get him in pain and tired as fast as you can so you can go in for the kill. So try it on me, just go for it; don't think too much about it, use your instincts."
It was ridiculous to even think he could land a hit on Dean, so Jared decided not to have any kind of plan and just go for it. He moved in and feinted a cross-punch left, and swept his left foot at Dean’s ankles.
Dean made no move to get out of the way of the kick, but smoothly deflected Jared's arm and blocked the punch. He hit the ground, but was smiling as he got up. "Good, but you’ve got to follow through. Don't let up even for a second. When you move to throw a punch, throw it and don't lose speed. Try again."
Jared frowned but put his guard back up and moved back in. This time he darted in fast, and when he threw the same punch again, anticipating Dean blocking it, he whirled and came across with an elbow jab.
The jab caught Dean in the face, drawing blood and knocking him to the ground again. He rolled over a bit and spit the blood out of his mouth before getting up and wiping it away. "Now that's my boy," he said, taking stance again. "Come on, keep going. Throw everything you can think of at me." Dean wasn't hitting back yet; Jared needed to work on breaking down defense first.
Though there was a stirring of pride at Dean’s praise, Jared was reluctant to go in again. Seeing Dean bleeding, especially by his own hand, made Jared’s stomach turn over sickly. He held his hands up and took a step back. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Dean. You’re bleeding, for fuck’s sake.”
"That's because I'm not hitting you back yet," Dean said with a shrug. "I want you to learn how to attack before I throw attacking and defending at you at the same time. Besides, I've gone toe to toe with my father before; I can handle the paper cuts you're going to give me." He smirked, willing to push Jared further if he had to. He knew Jared had it in him; they just had to find it.
Jared still looked reluctant, but put his guard up and moved in anyway. He threw a straight punch, but it lacked any kind of power, and then tagged a weak kick at Dean’s knee before scrambling backward again, cringing.
Dean blinked and looked at Jared. "Seriously?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the weak attempts. "You do realize that at some point dad is going to drag us both off on another hunt and if you can't defend yourself you may just end up getting yourself killed or me killed trying to protect you, right? So, with that thought in mind, want to try that again?"
“I know, I just… I’m kind of freaked out that I made you bleed. I’ve never hit anyone before.” Jared scrubbed a hand over his pale face and turned away, breathing deeply to calm the roiling in his gut down.
Dean stepped closer to Jared and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, it's getting dark anyway. We’ll call it for tonight and pick back up tomorrow, okay?"
Jared’s shoulders sagged in defeat but he nodded his agreement. “Maybe I should grow my hair out and start wearing dresses. I’m never going to learn this stuff.”
"It was your first day; don't be a drama queen just yet." Dean put his arm around Jared and pulled him towards the house. "I've been training since I was seven, for Christ sake's, and my father can still kick my ass and hand it to me. You aren't going to get it over night. You did really well today."
“But, that’s just it: I have to learn this over night. If I don’t, John is going to notice and start asking questions.” Jared leaned into Dean’s side, head hanging low. “I’ll be useless on hunts except for as bait, and you know how well that went last time.”
"Jared, you've been here on and off for almost a year. Dad might notice you acting weird, but he doesn't train Sam and me anymore. Besides, worst case: next hunt you'll play sick and that way we don't have to worry about it. When dad puts his attention on a hunt, he ignores everything else, believe me," he said, rolling his eyes and pushing the front door open to let them in. "You need something for pain or are you doing okay?" he asked over his shoulder.
“I’m fine.” Jared sighed and made his way to the couch, flopping down miserably. “I want to learn all this stuff, not just because of those asshats beating the shit out of me, but because I can’t see you get mangled again. Once was more than enough.” He shivered at the memory and wrapped his arms around his belly.
Dean leaned over the back of the couch, running a hand down the back of Jared’s hair. "Man, chances are you're going to see me get hurt again. It's just the life and I'm one of the best at what I do but that doesn't mean shit doesn't go south, you know?"
“I know you will, and I’m sure I will and John will, so that just means I have to learn all of this faster. I have to be able to say I did everything I could to keep it from happening, even if it does happen.” Jared leaned his head back against Dean’s shoulder, eyes closed and mouth tight. “I’ll practice at the gym down from my house when I’m not here.” He snorted a laugh, but his lips turned down on the corners. “Maybe I’ll even put on a little muscle, too.”
He laughed and put an arm around Jared, hugging him from behind and kissing his ear. "You can only go as fast as your body is going to let you. Push yourself, fine, that's great, but if you start moping around I'm going to smack you, fair warning," Dean joked, ruffling Jared's hair before hoping over the couch back and settling down next to him.
Jared slumped against Dean’s side, head resting on his shoulder again. “I’m not moping. My ribs ache a little bit, and I’m pissed off that I’m not learning fast enough.”
"Jared, you trained for a few hours; did you really think you were going to learn that much in such a short time?" Dean asked as he leaned against Jared and shook his head. "I mean, I wish I could give you a pill and make it go faster, but training is the only thing I can offer you."
“I know, and I’ve tried to pay attention to how you move so that I can try to mimic it, but I’m a little taller and Ma says I’m going to get even taller. If I’m anything like Jeff, I’ll end up somewhere around six-five-six-six. It’s a giant gap in the center of gravity, and growing pains don’t really help.” Jared turned his head, nuzzled Dean’s jaw briefly and then turned to stare straight ahead again, face pinched in thought.
Dean shrugged and looked back at Jared. "You can use the height, though." He smiled softly at the feel of Jared against him. "It's not going to hurt you, at least."
“God, I’m turning into Sam; learning to cook, sew, take care of all of my school work, tests, and now I’m learning how to hunt.” Jared shook his head and gave Dean a rueful smile. “As if it wasn’t bad enough that I look just like him.”
Dean frowned and looked back at Jared. "You don't have to," he offered. "I mean, Sam hates it. No one says you have to be into the life, you know?"
Jared glared at Dean incredulously. “And sit on my thumbs while you’re out risking your life? No way! I’m gonna be right beside you, making sure that you don’t get hurt.”
Dean shifted a little to face Jared. "Listen, I get that you want to keep me safe but, Jared, think about it. Look at Sam; he'll do anything he needs to, just to get away from hunting. Is this really something you want to devote yourself to? Honestly? Have you thought about it?"
“Of course I have. I know it’s dangerous and I know we’re going to get hurt and we’re not going to be able to save everyone, no matter how hard we try, but it’s what I want to do,” Jared said firmly, jaw tight with resolution. “I’m not going to back out because it’s hard or scary. I wanna help.”
"Alright. I'm not trying to talk you out of it, but I just don't want you to feel like I'm making you. My brother was forced into hunting and he hates my father for it sometimes. I just don't want you thinking you have no say in the matter," Dean said as he leaned back to stretch, tired.
“Dude, you couldn’t force me to get off of this couch if I didn’t want to, much less force me to hunt.” Jared grinned cheerfully. “Sam’s got nothing on me as far as stubbornness goes.”
"Man, you are a Winchester at heart." Dean rolled his eyes. "I want food." He got up to head into the kitchen on the most important hunt of the day: the hunt for food.
Jared rolled over and popped up on his knees, leaning his front against the back of the couch to watch Dean rummage for food. “Well, there’s a certain Winchester in my heart, at least,” he said softly, unsure if Dean heard but unwilling to look away if he had.
Dean blushed and he looked back at Jared before licking his lips. "You know, I think I need to take you out on a date or something." He looked down at the counter. "I mean, you've never done the boyfriend thing and most first kisses and all that jazz aren't done post-ass kicking," he said over his shoulder.
“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Winchester?” Jared teased, blushing cheeks dimpled beside his wide smile. “Maybe you’ll take me out one day, but you know you don’t have to, right? I’m content to watch black and white re-runs of whatever show is on TV and eat hotdogs, as long as I’m with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “You don’t have to make a special effort just for me.”
"Hey, I can be romantic," Dean said, turning back around with a smirk.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, though I haven’t seen evidence to the contrary, just that you don’t have to.” Jared propped his elbows on the back of the couch and let his backside stick out, swaying side to side absently. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the people in this town know that Sam is your brother, and since I’ve got the same face, it wouldn’t be very smart to-” he broke off and sat back, yanking his shirt up and staring down at his belly with a frown.
Dean opened his mouth to speak but Jared stopped talking all at once and Dean by now knew that was never a good sign. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning around. He rejoined Jared in the living room, leaning on the couch again.
“What?” Jared looked up and then back down. “Oh, nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s nothing.”
"Again, I say, what's wrong?" Dean asked, not letting it go.
Jared looked up and grinned sheepishly, sorry for scaring Dean. “Well, I said that Sam and I have the same face, so it made me think that maybe we were just swapping consciousness’s, but I’ve still got the burn mark from Uncle Dave’s cigar on my stomach.”
Dean frowned, looking at Jared a second. "Well, you don’t act anything like Sam when you're not trying to pretend to be him," Dean answered. "I mean, you guys might look alike but anyone who pays attention can tell that you're two different people. And when you swapped over this time you took all your cuts and shit from the fight."
Jared nodded. “Yeah, but I was in pain, and I didn’t know if shifting my consciousness would bring the cuts with me or not. But, it’s my own body. I wondered about it because my clothes change into Sam’s when I come here. And, as Sam pointed out, I wear a lot of pink and Sam owns none. When I got beaten up, I was wearing just a pair of athletic shorts and my tennis shoes, but when I came inside, I was wearing Sam’s clothes. So, it only made sense that we were only swapping our minds.”
Dean smirked. "Pink, really?" he asked but then moved on. "From what I can tell in that notebook, the two of you share thoughts; Sam is always Sam and you're always you. I mean, do you ever feel different?" he asked, concerned.
“No, no; I feel like me, and I still have my own scars. It would’ve been awkward sharing Sam’s body; I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to even kiss you if that were the case.” Jared blushed an even darker shade of red. “And pink is very manly, thank you very much. It makes my tan stand out more.”
"Dude… just wow." Dean leaned down a little further. "Makes sense, though. The body swap I mean, not the pink," he teased. "I mean, let me ask you this: notice any type of pattern when you guys swap, like anything going on, anyone always around or anything going through your head that's repetitive?"
“Well, the first time I remember wanting to get the hell away from Mr. Heller, because he keeps…” Jared looked away and then cleared his throat, “And then the second time I was wondering about you guys and what was happening here. The third time I was dreaming about the Impala, I think. Or AC/DC; AC/DC always reminds me of you.”
"Hm, I wonder if that has something to do with it, the swapping, I mean. Sam and I did some digging around the past week and if this is a curse or magic or something, it isn't anything any hunter has ever come across before you. The first time that it happened, when you ended up in the back of the car, it was right after Sam and dad got into this huge blow out, like they actually almost came to blows, you know, and he just wanted out."
Dean leaned down a little and frowned. "And Mr. Heller, what, pounced you in the lunch line or…?"
“Nothing,” Jared replied, jaw tight. “Mr. Heller doesn’t do anything.”
Dean huffed and pushed himself up. "Fine, I'm not going to beg," he said, heading back to the kitchen where they had seriously no food.
Jared sighed and lay down on the couch, ankles hanging off the end, and folded his arms behind his head. He wrestled back and forth over whether he should say anything or not. Dean couldn’t do anything about it, but then when he’d told his mother she’d scoffed and told him that he was seeing things or making something out of nothing. He was almost sure that Dean wouldn’t do that, but there was still a chance.
“Hypothetically speaking,” Jared started, before he even realized he was going to say anything. No sense in not going ahead now, though. “If a teacher touched a specific student, repeatedly, and that student started looking around and noticed that he was the only one that that teacher touched, would you think that the student was making something out of nothing?”
"Depends, how and where is he touching?" Dean asked over his shoulder, playing along. "I mean, no one has the right to touch another person anyway if it isn't welcomed. Would the student have asked the teacher to stop?"
“Yeah, the teacher was asked to stop. And the touching looked innocent to anyone looking, but the teacher always stands too close, draping an arm around the student’s shoulders, or kissing the top of his head.” Jared frowned at the ceiling, a chill running down his spine just remembering. “I-the student, I mean, would, at first, think that the teacher was just affectionate since he wasn’t shoving hands down pants and dragging the student off to fuck him or anything. But, then he started breathing right in my ear, whispering things to me; answers for questions, asking me to stay after class to talk about assignments, offering to drive me home, things like that.”
Dean moved back into the room and looked at Jared as ‘student’ became ‘me and I’. He sighed and looked over the couch again. "Yeah, I would say that there's something wrong with that," he said honestly. "I mean, there's an understanding between teacher and student that shit like that just shouldn't happen."
“Well, at least I’m not the only one,” Jared grumbled and pulled one arm around to drop over his eyes. “Ma said I was reading into things too much, making something out of nothing. She said Mr. Heller has been at that school since she was a senior and he’s always been affectionate with his ‘star student’.”
Dean shrugged. "Even if that's the case, it doesn't make it right."
“Well, let’s just hope that he hasn’t tried the same thing with Sam. I can just imagine Sam wailing on him.” A smirk curved one corner of Jared’s mouth up. “Then again you said that Sam and I act different, so maybe he noticed that Sam can take care of himself and that he’d better back off.”
"Maybe. I don't know how Sam acts in your world but if he beat those other guys up, then I guess he's taking care of himself the way he was taught to." Dean smiled at the thought.
“If I keep training hard and learn fast, then maybe I can knock him on his ass myself. God, that would feel so fucking good.” Jared uncovered his eyes and reached up, lightly running his fingers along the swollen corner of Dean’s mouth where his elbow had landed earlier. “But, for now, maybe we should order a pizza and then, um, make out for a while?”
Dean turned his face into Jared's hand and kissed his palm. "You read my mind." He reached down and kissed Jared’s lips for a moment before pulling back and nuzzling him a little. "What do you want on it?"
“I’m a growing boy.” Jared grinned. “I’ll eat anything.”
Dean laughed and moved to find his cell phone. "Fuck, I'm dying. I'll take whatever they’ve got, myself."
Part V
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: 3,971; 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 IV
~*~
Jared wasn't useless at this by any means, but that didn't mean that Dean trusted him with guns and knives yet. Besides, John had called and said he would be a while longer. So, for now the beat up old house was home and there weren't any wolves or vampires in the state so there were no hunts that Jared could get caught up in. Dean could protect him here but it was when he went back home that was the problem.
They were out in what passed as the backyard; Dean was in a stance behind Jared. His steps were soft and silent. Jared's back was to him and he tried to pick up on how Dean would attack and from what angle. So far, Dean had taken Jared down twice in a row.
It was hot out but the sun had started to go down so it was getting cooler as the breeze started to pick up. Dean gave no warning and attacked Jared from the left hand side, his movements quick as he kicked out, and knocked Jared's legs out from under him.
Jared hit the dirt with a grunt and rolled to the side, pushing himself up as fast as he could, despite the ache in his elbows from his landing and his bruised pride. He swiped sweat from his eyes and rolled his shoulders to work out a kink, and then closed his eyes again. “I still think that I should learn how to fight opponents that I can see before I start working on the ones I can’t.”
"I'm not trying to get you beat anyone here, but you have to start learning how to pay attention, listen to where your opponent is, and know what they’re going to do before they do it," Dean explained. "I mean, yeah, learning to throw a few kicks and punches is all great, but it's not going to get you anywhere in the long run."
“Fine,” Jared sighed. “But it’s been my experience that bullies tend to make lots of noise when they’re coming after you.”
"You enjoy just being difficult, don't you?" Dean asked as he stepped around in front of Jared, a few feet away. "Alright, fine, first bit of basics; you want to take someone down, you get their feet out from under them. Weakest points: throat, groin and kneecaps, but you have to make sure you don't lose your balance. Next is punching; you need a clean shot, quick and to the point; hit the stomach, sides and face, you want to tire the fucker out. Get him in pain and tired as fast as you can so you can go in for the kill. So try it on me, just go for it; don't think too much about it, use your instincts."
It was ridiculous to even think he could land a hit on Dean, so Jared decided not to have any kind of plan and just go for it. He moved in and feinted a cross-punch left, and swept his left foot at Dean’s ankles.
Dean made no move to get out of the way of the kick, but smoothly deflected Jared's arm and blocked the punch. He hit the ground, but was smiling as he got up. "Good, but you’ve got to follow through. Don't let up even for a second. When you move to throw a punch, throw it and don't lose speed. Try again."
Jared frowned but put his guard back up and moved back in. This time he darted in fast, and when he threw the same punch again, anticipating Dean blocking it, he whirled and came across with an elbow jab.
The jab caught Dean in the face, drawing blood and knocking him to the ground again. He rolled over a bit and spit the blood out of his mouth before getting up and wiping it away. "Now that's my boy," he said, taking stance again. "Come on, keep going. Throw everything you can think of at me." Dean wasn't hitting back yet; Jared needed to work on breaking down defense first.
Though there was a stirring of pride at Dean’s praise, Jared was reluctant to go in again. Seeing Dean bleeding, especially by his own hand, made Jared’s stomach turn over sickly. He held his hands up and took a step back. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Dean. You’re bleeding, for fuck’s sake.”
"That's because I'm not hitting you back yet," Dean said with a shrug. "I want you to learn how to attack before I throw attacking and defending at you at the same time. Besides, I've gone toe to toe with my father before; I can handle the paper cuts you're going to give me." He smirked, willing to push Jared further if he had to. He knew Jared had it in him; they just had to find it.
Jared still looked reluctant, but put his guard up and moved in anyway. He threw a straight punch, but it lacked any kind of power, and then tagged a weak kick at Dean’s knee before scrambling backward again, cringing.
Dean blinked and looked at Jared. "Seriously?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the weak attempts. "You do realize that at some point dad is going to drag us both off on another hunt and if you can't defend yourself you may just end up getting yourself killed or me killed trying to protect you, right? So, with that thought in mind, want to try that again?"
“I know, I just… I’m kind of freaked out that I made you bleed. I’ve never hit anyone before.” Jared scrubbed a hand over his pale face and turned away, breathing deeply to calm the roiling in his gut down.
Dean stepped closer to Jared and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, it's getting dark anyway. We’ll call it for tonight and pick back up tomorrow, okay?"
Jared’s shoulders sagged in defeat but he nodded his agreement. “Maybe I should grow my hair out and start wearing dresses. I’m never going to learn this stuff.”
"It was your first day; don't be a drama queen just yet." Dean put his arm around Jared and pulled him towards the house. "I've been training since I was seven, for Christ sake's, and my father can still kick my ass and hand it to me. You aren't going to get it over night. You did really well today."
“But, that’s just it: I have to learn this over night. If I don’t, John is going to notice and start asking questions.” Jared leaned into Dean’s side, head hanging low. “I’ll be useless on hunts except for as bait, and you know how well that went last time.”
"Jared, you've been here on and off for almost a year. Dad might notice you acting weird, but he doesn't train Sam and me anymore. Besides, worst case: next hunt you'll play sick and that way we don't have to worry about it. When dad puts his attention on a hunt, he ignores everything else, believe me," he said, rolling his eyes and pushing the front door open to let them in. "You need something for pain or are you doing okay?" he asked over his shoulder.
“I’m fine.” Jared sighed and made his way to the couch, flopping down miserably. “I want to learn all this stuff, not just because of those asshats beating the shit out of me, but because I can’t see you get mangled again. Once was more than enough.” He shivered at the memory and wrapped his arms around his belly.
Dean leaned over the back of the couch, running a hand down the back of Jared’s hair. "Man, chances are you're going to see me get hurt again. It's just the life and I'm one of the best at what I do but that doesn't mean shit doesn't go south, you know?"
“I know you will, and I’m sure I will and John will, so that just means I have to learn all of this faster. I have to be able to say I did everything I could to keep it from happening, even if it does happen.” Jared leaned his head back against Dean’s shoulder, eyes closed and mouth tight. “I’ll practice at the gym down from my house when I’m not here.” He snorted a laugh, but his lips turned down on the corners. “Maybe I’ll even put on a little muscle, too.”
He laughed and put an arm around Jared, hugging him from behind and kissing his ear. "You can only go as fast as your body is going to let you. Push yourself, fine, that's great, but if you start moping around I'm going to smack you, fair warning," Dean joked, ruffling Jared's hair before hoping over the couch back and settling down next to him.
Jared slumped against Dean’s side, head resting on his shoulder again. “I’m not moping. My ribs ache a little bit, and I’m pissed off that I’m not learning fast enough.”
"Jared, you trained for a few hours; did you really think you were going to learn that much in such a short time?" Dean asked as he leaned against Jared and shook his head. "I mean, I wish I could give you a pill and make it go faster, but training is the only thing I can offer you."
“I know, and I’ve tried to pay attention to how you move so that I can try to mimic it, but I’m a little taller and Ma says I’m going to get even taller. If I’m anything like Jeff, I’ll end up somewhere around six-five-six-six. It’s a giant gap in the center of gravity, and growing pains don’t really help.” Jared turned his head, nuzzled Dean’s jaw briefly and then turned to stare straight ahead again, face pinched in thought.
Dean shrugged and looked back at Jared. "You can use the height, though." He smiled softly at the feel of Jared against him. "It's not going to hurt you, at least."
“God, I’m turning into Sam; learning to cook, sew, take care of all of my school work, tests, and now I’m learning how to hunt.” Jared shook his head and gave Dean a rueful smile. “As if it wasn’t bad enough that I look just like him.”
Dean frowned and looked back at Jared. "You don't have to," he offered. "I mean, Sam hates it. No one says you have to be into the life, you know?"
Jared glared at Dean incredulously. “And sit on my thumbs while you’re out risking your life? No way! I’m gonna be right beside you, making sure that you don’t get hurt.”
Dean shifted a little to face Jared. "Listen, I get that you want to keep me safe but, Jared, think about it. Look at Sam; he'll do anything he needs to, just to get away from hunting. Is this really something you want to devote yourself to? Honestly? Have you thought about it?"
“Of course I have. I know it’s dangerous and I know we’re going to get hurt and we’re not going to be able to save everyone, no matter how hard we try, but it’s what I want to do,” Jared said firmly, jaw tight with resolution. “I’m not going to back out because it’s hard or scary. I wanna help.”
"Alright. I'm not trying to talk you out of it, but I just don't want you to feel like I'm making you. My brother was forced into hunting and he hates my father for it sometimes. I just don't want you thinking you have no say in the matter," Dean said as he leaned back to stretch, tired.
“Dude, you couldn’t force me to get off of this couch if I didn’t want to, much less force me to hunt.” Jared grinned cheerfully. “Sam’s got nothing on me as far as stubbornness goes.”
"Man, you are a Winchester at heart." Dean rolled his eyes. "I want food." He got up to head into the kitchen on the most important hunt of the day: the hunt for food.
Jared rolled over and popped up on his knees, leaning his front against the back of the couch to watch Dean rummage for food. “Well, there’s a certain Winchester in my heart, at least,” he said softly, unsure if Dean heard but unwilling to look away if he had.
Dean blushed and he looked back at Jared before licking his lips. "You know, I think I need to take you out on a date or something." He looked down at the counter. "I mean, you've never done the boyfriend thing and most first kisses and all that jazz aren't done post-ass kicking," he said over his shoulder.
“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Winchester?” Jared teased, blushing cheeks dimpled beside his wide smile. “Maybe you’ll take me out one day, but you know you don’t have to, right? I’m content to watch black and white re-runs of whatever show is on TV and eat hotdogs, as long as I’m with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “You don’t have to make a special effort just for me.”
"Hey, I can be romantic," Dean said, turning back around with a smirk.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, though I haven’t seen evidence to the contrary, just that you don’t have to.” Jared propped his elbows on the back of the couch and let his backside stick out, swaying side to side absently. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the people in this town know that Sam is your brother, and since I’ve got the same face, it wouldn’t be very smart to-” he broke off and sat back, yanking his shirt up and staring down at his belly with a frown.
Dean opened his mouth to speak but Jared stopped talking all at once and Dean by now knew that was never a good sign. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning around. He rejoined Jared in the living room, leaning on the couch again.
“What?” Jared looked up and then back down. “Oh, nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s nothing.”
"Again, I say, what's wrong?" Dean asked, not letting it go.
Jared looked up and grinned sheepishly, sorry for scaring Dean. “Well, I said that Sam and I have the same face, so it made me think that maybe we were just swapping consciousness’s, but I’ve still got the burn mark from Uncle Dave’s cigar on my stomach.”
Dean frowned, looking at Jared a second. "Well, you don’t act anything like Sam when you're not trying to pretend to be him," Dean answered. "I mean, you guys might look alike but anyone who pays attention can tell that you're two different people. And when you swapped over this time you took all your cuts and shit from the fight."
Jared nodded. “Yeah, but I was in pain, and I didn’t know if shifting my consciousness would bring the cuts with me or not. But, it’s my own body. I wondered about it because my clothes change into Sam’s when I come here. And, as Sam pointed out, I wear a lot of pink and Sam owns none. When I got beaten up, I was wearing just a pair of athletic shorts and my tennis shoes, but when I came inside, I was wearing Sam’s clothes. So, it only made sense that we were only swapping our minds.”
Dean smirked. "Pink, really?" he asked but then moved on. "From what I can tell in that notebook, the two of you share thoughts; Sam is always Sam and you're always you. I mean, do you ever feel different?" he asked, concerned.
“No, no; I feel like me, and I still have my own scars. It would’ve been awkward sharing Sam’s body; I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to even kiss you if that were the case.” Jared blushed an even darker shade of red. “And pink is very manly, thank you very much. It makes my tan stand out more.”
"Dude… just wow." Dean leaned down a little further. "Makes sense, though. The body swap I mean, not the pink," he teased. "I mean, let me ask you this: notice any type of pattern when you guys swap, like anything going on, anyone always around or anything going through your head that's repetitive?"
“Well, the first time I remember wanting to get the hell away from Mr. Heller, because he keeps…” Jared looked away and then cleared his throat, “And then the second time I was wondering about you guys and what was happening here. The third time I was dreaming about the Impala, I think. Or AC/DC; AC/DC always reminds me of you.”
"Hm, I wonder if that has something to do with it, the swapping, I mean. Sam and I did some digging around the past week and if this is a curse or magic or something, it isn't anything any hunter has ever come across before you. The first time that it happened, when you ended up in the back of the car, it was right after Sam and dad got into this huge blow out, like they actually almost came to blows, you know, and he just wanted out."
Dean leaned down a little and frowned. "And Mr. Heller, what, pounced you in the lunch line or…?"
“Nothing,” Jared replied, jaw tight. “Mr. Heller doesn’t do anything.”
Dean huffed and pushed himself up. "Fine, I'm not going to beg," he said, heading back to the kitchen where they had seriously no food.
Jared sighed and lay down on the couch, ankles hanging off the end, and folded his arms behind his head. He wrestled back and forth over whether he should say anything or not. Dean couldn’t do anything about it, but then when he’d told his mother she’d scoffed and told him that he was seeing things or making something out of nothing. He was almost sure that Dean wouldn’t do that, but there was still a chance.
“Hypothetically speaking,” Jared started, before he even realized he was going to say anything. No sense in not going ahead now, though. “If a teacher touched a specific student, repeatedly, and that student started looking around and noticed that he was the only one that that teacher touched, would you think that the student was making something out of nothing?”
"Depends, how and where is he touching?" Dean asked over his shoulder, playing along. "I mean, no one has the right to touch another person anyway if it isn't welcomed. Would the student have asked the teacher to stop?"
“Yeah, the teacher was asked to stop. And the touching looked innocent to anyone looking, but the teacher always stands too close, draping an arm around the student’s shoulders, or kissing the top of his head.” Jared frowned at the ceiling, a chill running down his spine just remembering. “I-the student, I mean, would, at first, think that the teacher was just affectionate since he wasn’t shoving hands down pants and dragging the student off to fuck him or anything. But, then he started breathing right in my ear, whispering things to me; answers for questions, asking me to stay after class to talk about assignments, offering to drive me home, things like that.”
Dean moved back into the room and looked at Jared as ‘student’ became ‘me and I’. He sighed and looked over the couch again. "Yeah, I would say that there's something wrong with that," he said honestly. "I mean, there's an understanding between teacher and student that shit like that just shouldn't happen."
“Well, at least I’m not the only one,” Jared grumbled and pulled one arm around to drop over his eyes. “Ma said I was reading into things too much, making something out of nothing. She said Mr. Heller has been at that school since she was a senior and he’s always been affectionate with his ‘star student’.”
Dean shrugged. "Even if that's the case, it doesn't make it right."
“Well, let’s just hope that he hasn’t tried the same thing with Sam. I can just imagine Sam wailing on him.” A smirk curved one corner of Jared’s mouth up. “Then again you said that Sam and I act different, so maybe he noticed that Sam can take care of himself and that he’d better back off.”
"Maybe. I don't know how Sam acts in your world but if he beat those other guys up, then I guess he's taking care of himself the way he was taught to." Dean smiled at the thought.
“If I keep training hard and learn fast, then maybe I can knock him on his ass myself. God, that would feel so fucking good.” Jared uncovered his eyes and reached up, lightly running his fingers along the swollen corner of Dean’s mouth where his elbow had landed earlier. “But, for now, maybe we should order a pizza and then, um, make out for a while?”
Dean turned his face into Jared's hand and kissed his palm. "You read my mind." He reached down and kissed Jared’s lips for a moment before pulling back and nuzzling him a little. "What do you want on it?"
“I’m a growing boy.” Jared grinned. “I’ll eat anything.”
Dean laughed and moved to find his cell phone. "Fuck, I'm dying. I'll take whatever they’ve got, myself."
Part V