Fic: 300 Seconds On The 13th Floor 2/2
Jul. 18th, 2009 01:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
secretlytodreamPart two.
part one
Jared can't sleep tonight, which is pretty strange for him. Usually he falls asleep before his head hardly touches the pillow, and in the morning he wakes up to the alarm at 6 o'clock, jogs, drinks his morning cup of coffee, drives to the pizzeria (where he drinks another cup of coffee), then he reads the newspaper, and only closer to midday does he starts delivering orders.
Usually.
Now Jared shifts in the bed, not able to find the right position, and he thinks about what he learned today.
In his whole life he’s never experienced anything stranger than pierced tires. He can't say that he’s had a happy childhood, but he can't say the opposite.
Though he always thought that he just didn't pay much attention, he’s starting to realize that maybe he just didn’t care. Everything that happened around him wasn't interesting.
It happened, it was a part of reality, but it didn’t interfere with his tiny sliver of reality. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with him, he doesn't care.
So now Jared vaguely imagines what he should do in this situation. He’s never had anyone who he wanted to take care of. His parents were always something he was used to, something that was just there for him to take for granted. He’s never thought about the abstract theory of, “there can be no parents.” They are his parents, right? They’ll always be here.
He moved when he was eighteen, after he saw some movie on the old TV. It was about two friends, who started the journey across the states. They had no money, no dreams; they just wanted to see the world, because life's too short to spend it so uselessly.
Jared's ardor didn't last long, and he stayed here, in this town, where it rains almost every day, and he kept his job at this pizzeria, where your work day starts at noon, but where he goes, nonetheless, 9 o'clock everyday.
He just thought that, though life is too short, he had time anyway. The world won't disappear, how many years has it stood until now? It'll stand a little more.
Now Jared thinks, for the first time, if he did the right thing. Now, when the green numbers on his alarm show him that it's after 2AM already.
He rolls over again onto the other side of bed, turning to face the window, watching the rain drops that are streaming down the glass.
It really does rain almost every day in this town, and Jared doesn't know why he’s lived here so long, because he's from Texas, and he should hate rain. Though now it's relaxing him, even lulling him to sleep.
He's been thinking about Jensen the whole evening, imaging this lump in his head, and that Jensen could die because of it. He seemed so childish and happy when Jared saw him last time, and his paintings are really interesting.
And though Jared doesn't understand practically anything about art, he does understand one thing - he likes them. And he likes Jensen. And he likes spending time with him.
He, generally, likes to feel this 'like', because he hasn't felt anything like this before.
The next morning Jared has to skip his morning jog, not because it's raining (again), but because he overslept.
Which is pretty strange and new for him, also, because he’s never overslept before.
He drinks his coffee fast, and goes to work, because it's almost nine, and though Tom wouldn't say anything if Jared was late, Jared doesn't want to be late.
He doesn't want to break his usual way of life, this routine, this habit, that he's so used to now. And, of course, he doesn't want some artist to be the reason for it.
Jared is sitting at his usual place, drinking his second cup of coffee, and reading the newspaper when Katie comes up to him.
"You're late," she notices, turning on the small TV. She likes to have something buzzing in the background.
"As usual," says Jared, without tearing his eyes away from the paper. Katie just nods, mumbling something like 'yeah, sure,' and then she turns to the TV.
He's running through the sports section, when he hears Katie gasp, surprised. Jared slowly raises his eyes, noticing how worried she is.
"God, what a terrible accident-" she says quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. She looks so small right now, so unprotected, that Jared wants to...do something. Though, he remains seated on his chair.
He moves his eyes to the TV screen. It's some kind of an urgent news block, showing images from the place where the accident happened: a few cars are crushed like they’re toys; policemen and medical professionals are everywhere, as are people, sirens, and the voice of an announcer, though Jared can hardly hear anything.
"It's right next to where Jensen lives," Katie says absently, biting her nails. Bad habit: she always does that when she’s afraid or worried.
Jared puts the newspaper aside and gets up from his chair, moving closer to the TV.
"When did it happen?"
"This night. Or in the early morning, very early, it was slick on the roads because of the rain. Jared, they say the whole family died, and there were little kids." Katie looks at Jared, scared, but then she turns to the TV again.
She always takes everything too close to her heart. Sometimes Jared wonders how she hasn't gone crazy yet, because accidents happen in this town almost as often as it rains.
It's only after a few announcers' lines, which Jared doesn’t hear, that he remembers what Katie said.
It happened right next to where Jensen lives. It means that he, at least, knows about it. And surely not from the news.
Jared remembers this frightened gaze, and this empty face, and how Jensen told him 'that man didn't die immediately.' Only, then it had looked like he was joking, just a joke in which Jared didn't believe or understand.
Now, though, there's some strange uneasiness inside of him, which doesn't let him breathe easily. Strange thoughts and forms start to sneak into his head, and Jared feels the fear.
He doesn't know what fear is, because he’s never been afraid of anything before. Not that he was that fearless, it's just that he’s never thought that it's possible to be scared of something until it actually happens to you.
He knows what fear is from his mom's stories, from his childhood, when she took him down from the tree, or somewhere else, and she told him how scared she was.
Now Jared understands his mom like he never did before.
"Tell Tom, I’m taking the day off," Jared shoots and heads to the door, slipping on his jacket on his way out.
Katie blinks a few times, not knowing what to do now. She can't stop Jared, but it’s too late to ask him about anything too – he already got in his car.
**
Jared tries to drive slowly, carefully, but his foot itself makes the most mileage out of his car. Wipers hardly manage to take away the water from the windshield, and Jared has to squint so he won't fly into something on his way.
He nervously looks at his watch, thinking about how much time has passed since the accident. The news was live and it means ER and police are still at work down there, it means nothing has ended yet.
Now Jared is ready to believe anything Jensen says, anything to prove it really was a joke. He absolutely doesn't like this feeling of fear and worry, ignorance and incomprehension.
When he flew out of the pizzeria, he didn't think of anything except of Jensen and the accident. And, even if Jared doesn't believe in Jensen's 'abilities,' he saw what he did to himself last time there was an accident, and Jared believes that Jensen believes, and that’s enough. He must protect Jensen from this belief.
After twenty minutes Jared is running to the front door. He's surprised by how he’s managed to drive that fast and make it to Jensen’s house this quickly.
He doesn't wait for the elevator, thinking that he'll run faster. On the thirteenth floor his breathing becomes heavy and he thinks absently that he needs to go jogging more, but the stream of his thoughts is cut when he hears the loud scream emanate from behind the Jensen's door.
Jared stands still, as if in some kind of a stupor, because he’s never heard such scream, so full of pain. The scream doesn't calm down; it only becomes louder, and if Jared hadn't fallen into the emptiness, he'd hear the words behind the cries instead of one solid, steady, inhuman wail.
He flies to the apartment, barely managing to not knock down the door, which, to Jared's surprise, isn’t locked.
"Jensen?!" he shouts, looking around. It's dark in here, the curtains are pulled, and only from the side of the kitchen there is some light.
Jared almost chokes when he sees Jensen: he's lying on the floor, curled up in a small ball, his head wrapped in his hands, dirtied with fresh blood. Next to him there are a few knives, one of which is covered in blood, from the other side - broken cup.
Jensen moans, curling up even more, trembling with his whole body, and only then Jared finds strength in him to move.
"Jensen!" he falls on his knees near Jensen, picking him up to his shoulders, trying to see where the blood is coming from. God, there's so much blood...
Jared raises Jensen slightly, half-hugs him, trying to take his hands away from his head. His face is covered with blood, his eyes are shut tightly, and his lips are bitten through. He keeps on murmuring something though, and Jared is glad Jensen, at least, stopped screaming.
"Jensen, hey, come on, look at me." Jared lays his hand on Jensen's cheek, absently stroking his cheekbone, trying to catch his attention.
Jensen, not understanding himself, snuggles up even closer to Jared, gripping Jared’s collar with his hand.
"Onehundredtwentythree...onehundredtwentyfour...onehundretwentyfive-"
"What?" Jared can't understand what Jensen says, he thinks that he's counting, but he can't understand why. "Jensen!" he shouts, slightly shaking him. "Look at me!"
"Please, God, stop it, please, I can't-" Jensen moans, breathing brokenly, desperately trying to catch the air with his gaping mouth. "Onehundredtwentysix...onehudredtwentyseven-"
"Jensen, please, wake up." Jared doesn't understand himself, when his steady voice becomes pleading. He firmly presses Jensen to his chest, as if he's afraid that the space between them hurts Jensen, and rocks him slowly, lulling him, soothing.
After a few minutes, which seem to Jared a whole eternity, Jensen looks at him almost consciously: his eyes are red and puffy, and there are tears in the corners. On his cheeks, covered in blood, the trails of tears can be seen, and on his chin the thin track of blood almost dries up.
Jared swallows, pushing back Jensen's hair from his wet forehead.
"Hey, it's me, Jared," he smiles slightly, because he can't do anything else right now.
Jensen looks at him for a moment, and then, with closed eyes, he snuggles closer, burying his face in Jared's neck, holding harder onto his jacket with lacerated hands.
"Don't go," he murmurs, barely audible, and Jared feels something wet under his hand, which he still refuses to move from Jensen’s face. "Please," Jensen whispers, not trusting his voice. "Please, just don't go," he asks and Jared feels a lump in his throat.
He can physically feel the fear that captured Jensen, the fear of being left alone, alone with his (or someone else's?) emotions, which he can't fight. Can't fight alone.
"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," Jared whispers, burying his chin in Jensen's crown, carding his fingers in Jensen's soft and short hair. "You're not alone, you'll never be alone anymore, don't be afraid," Jared keeps soothing till Jensen, not able to fight oblivion anymore, falls in the cozy and empty silence.
**
Jared easily lifts Jensen from the floor and takes him to the bedroom.
He's never been here before, and he's surprised a little, because the room is absolutely different from the other part of the apartment.
The walls are light-blue. Next to a small curtained-off window there's a table, and next to the other wall - a big bed. On the opposite side there's a bookcase, and as a matter of fact, there's nothing else in the bedroom. Only a small cupboard with the lamp on it next to the bed.
There are no thrown brushes, or cups from paint, or any other art paraphernalia. The only one word that spins on Jared's tongue is 'empty'.
Jared lays Jensen down on the bed and goes to the bathroom to look for a first-aid kit, towel and everything else he needs.
Jensen's hands are deeply and determinedly cut that Jared doesn't want to think that he did it to himself. He is afraid just to think so.
He looks into the cabinet in the bathroom and hardly manages to catch the fall of a bottle of pills. He glances over and practically moans - the cupboard is filled with all kinds and sorts of bottles with different lables. Some are empty, some are new.
Jared puts the bottle back carefully and slowly closes the cabinet, taking the first-aid kit from only.
From the mirror some frightened kid is looking at him: his face is covered with blood, his hair is a mess, and his gaze is tired and scared. Jared feels sorry for himself.
He grabs a towel from the kitchen, where he also takes the deep bowl, and fills it with warm water.
He returns to the bedroom, where Jensen, lying on the very edge of the bed, has already come to his senses.
"Hey," Jared calls quietly, dragging the chair with him, trying to balance with everything in his hands. Jensen just turns his head, looking at him tiredly. "I...here-" Jared puts everything on the nightstand, and sits on the chair before Jensen, uncertain.
He starts to sit on the bed, slowly, but when he almost falls, Jared catches him and lays him on the pillows. "Don't, lie down." He takes another seat on the bed, wetting the towel, and carefully takes Jensen’s hand in his own.
Somewhere blood is already dried off, turning into crust, and now Jared sees that the cuts aren't as deep as they seemed, it's just that there are too many of them.
He carefully washes Jensen's hand, trying not to touch the cuts, constantly whispering 'sorry' when Jensen hisses sharply or screws his eyes shut.
Jared looks at him, uncertainly, feeling like there's something between them, like a big pink elephant in the room, that doesn't give a rest.
"Just ask," Jensen says quietly, looking somewhere.
"I've met this old lady from the ground floor the other day," Jared starts, unsurely, taking Jensen's other hand in his.
"Mrs. Roberts," Jensen echoes even quieter, watching as the pink water trickles down from the towel to the plate.
"I guess, she's your neighbor?" evasively asks Jared, already sorry that he started all this. Jensen just nods. "She said-" Jared falls silent, not knowing what to say next. How to say what he wants to say.
"Ask me," Jensen says almost silently again, closing his eyes.
The room is filled with a heavy silence, and even Jensen didn't think that silence could be so unpleasant. "Just ask-" he opens his eyes, desperately trying not to look at Jared. He just can't look at him right now, not into his eyes.
"You-" Jared swallows, shifting in his seat. He instinctively squeezes Jensen's hand tightly.
"Yes, Jared, I'm dying," Jensen says firmly, finally lifting his eyes to look at Jared.
There aren't any emotions in his gaze, and it makes some sloppy feeling move inside - Jensen's eyes have never been that empty, there was always something in them.
"And I don't know when it'll happen. And no one knows. I can fall asleep today and never wake up, and no one will know. And-" Jensen doesn't understand when he starts to talk one tone higher, and it becomes harder to breathe, and his chest is being squeezed by something, and suddenly the room is starting to fill with this terrible grey color.
Jared gets much closer, starts to say something, and tries to interrupt Jensen, as if he’s trying to make himself heard.
"You're not alone. You'll never be alone anymore, you hear me?" Jared takes Jensen's face in his hands, looking right in his frightened green eyes. Jensen breathes deeply, trying to calm down and to concentrate on the eyes before him.
"Jared-" Jensen whispers, feeling his voice trembling. "I don't want to die alone." Unable to hold his gaze anymore, he blinks, and two tears stream down his pale cheeks.
Jared tightly presses Jensen to his chest, hugs him, buries his nose in the soft crew cut of his hair, and just holds him, because he doesn’t know what to say.
Jensen is trembling slightly; face still buried in Jared’s shirt, afraid to look him in the eyes – all because he’s afraid that he, regardless of what’s been said, will be alone. He’s afraid that everything will turn out to be a lie, one of those nightmares that he sees so often in his sleep. A nightmare, because there's nothing worse for him - to find and loose at once.
**
After a few hours, when Jensen finally falls asleep, Jared carefully lifts himself from the bed and goes to the kitchen. Thinking, he decides to cook something, something normal and edible - pizza right now is so not what Jensen needs.
Besides, Jared fled from the pizzeria so fast that he totally forgot about Jensen's order.
Looking in the fridge, he understands that his joke about Jensen eating just pizza isn't really a joke. The fridge is absolutely empty, so Jared decides to walk a little, especially because the rain is over.
He looks in the bedroom, and, convinced that Jensen is still sound asleep and will stay that way, he exits the apartment.
Since the day he moved here, Jared liked only one thing - this time, right after the rain. This sky, when grey clouds start to go away, and somewhere, like small islands, the blue sky punches out.
It doesn’t take an hour for Jared to return, and he thinks that Jensen is still asleep.
He silently enters the apartment, takes the shopping in to the kitchen and goes to the bedroom to check on Jensen.
"Jensen!" getting over the space between them practically in two steps, Jared knocks out the bottle full of tablets from Jensen's hands, which he is desperately trying to swallow. "Are you nuts?!" Jared grabs Jensen's neck, while his other hand tries to unlock his jaws, forcing him to spit everything out. "Spit! Don't swallow them!"
Jensen coughs, spitting the tablets on the floor, trembling with his whole body, desperately trying to breathe.
His eyes are covered with a shroud; it seems like the whole palette of colors comes down upon him. His chest is squeezed painfully and his blood is pulsing in his veins.
Jensen doesn't immediately understand that someone is leading him to the bathroom, dipping him into the cold water.
"Come on, Jensen!" Jared opens his mouth with force, pushing two fingers inside, causing him to vomit.
Jensen coughs and dry heaves a bit, but he spits out the tablets.
How many times has he done this? Nothing new, usual pain, usual darkness. But now strong hands hold him, and a steady voice is telling him something. And though Jared can't make out what this voice is saying, he tries to catch on these words, on this voice, like it's a life belt that is keeping him conscious.
"Come on, come here, I got you." After a few minutes, Jensen feels something cold on his neck, then on his face. "Why did you do it?" Jared puts his hand on Jensen's face, attentively looking him in the eyes. It makes Jensen go warm inside, it feels right - Jared's hands are enormous and Jensen is sinking in this strange, new condition. Jared only has to take his face in his hands.
Jensen closes his eyes, slowly breathing in and out, trying to calm his heart, pounding like crazy. Jared is still here, near, so close that it seems like they breathe the same air.
The chaos made with colors now turns to the cozy emptiness, warm shades, and Jensen feels the weakness that practically knocks him off his feet.
"Hey!" Jared catches him when Jensen almost falls, nearly hitting his head on the basin. "Jensen?" Jared asks, carefully holding him in his arms.
Jensen slowly opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling, blinking as if he's trying to focus on something. Then he turns his gaze on Jared.
"It was too loud," he says quietly, still looking at Jared.
"Loud?"
"I couldn't make out anything... I just wanted silence," Jensen answers, again closing his eyes, softening in Jared's arms.
"Come on, let's go back to the bedroom," and though 'let's go' means that they both have to actually walk, Jared carries Jensen almost the whole way to the bed.
Jared lays Jensen on the bed, his peripheral vision noticing the cups on the floor. He made out that almost all tablets were sedatives, not the strongest ones, but one bottle of that was enough to calm someone down forever.
"You're such an idiot," Jared mutters, looking tiredly at Jensen. He looks away guilty.
"I thought you were gone and I just wanted some peace," Jensen closes his eyes, breathing brokenly.
"I was in the shop, sorry I didn't warn you. You were asleep," Jared adds, justifying himself. He doesn't understand himself, why he says this; he just wants Jensen to know it. "You shouldn't take so many pills," he says quietly, throwing the empty bottle on the nightstand, in the pile so many others.
"It helps me doze off." Jensen turns to Jared, hoping that he understands him.
"Jensen, do you live alone? Where's your family?" Jared starts carefully, hoping that Jensen won't shut him out.
"My mom's at home, and my dad-" he falls silent for a second. "I know you don't believe me. No one believes me," Jensen says, suddenly conscious looking at Jared.
"Jen-" Jared starts, but Jensen interrupts.
"Even if you tell me that you believe me, I know that it's not true. You, like everyone else, think that I'm some kind of a freak, who gorges on pills, cuts himself, and doesn't eat anything but pizza!" Jensen now speaks louder; his words are clearer, and from that, much angrier.
"You don't know what I think! You told me that I'm different, you can't 'see' me!" Jared makes quotes in the air, calming a little. "Whatever it means," he adds quietly, breathing deeply.
"Whatever it means? I can tell you what it means," Jensen says, hardly containing himself. Jared watches him attentively, not able to speak.
He wants to refuse, to say that he doesn't need to prove anything, he believes Jensen without it. He believes, because it's Jensen, because he can't not believe him.
"My dad died when I was fifteen, and after that it all started-" Jensen waves in the air with his hand. "Since then I can feel what other people feel. My mom immediately sent me away to the mental home; she thought that I went crazy after dad’s death, that I was off my rocker or something. Doctors just parted their hands, and each time I started to tell the truth, they pumped me with the sedatives, so I laid there for a few days, like a living dead body, not feeling anything, not me, not someone else. And after three years my mom told me that she wouldn't pay for me anymore and that then I was my own boss. And then they "released" me, they said that I hadn't had any attacks for a long time, and they could let me out. And you know why I hadn't had any attacks? Do you know why, Jared? Because I didn't fucking feel anything! Even myself! What are you talking about if you couldn't sit straight, huh? And then there was college. I'd been accepted because the doctors took advantage of the opportunity. I painted a lot when I was in the hospital, and they decided that I'm some kind of special, and they accepted me without any exams," Jensen shrugs.
Each word is too hard for him to tell, like his memories physically hurt him, and it burns from the tears that stand stark in the bottom of his eyes.
"I didn't make it till the end of the first semester, because college for me - it's like minefield. I couldn't study right, talk to people, I was on the edge. In the end of the first semester everything got shot to hell. Because I couldn't stay in one room with more than one person, because I was ready to shoot myself. But, you know, why I didn't do that yet? Because even this desire - is not mine. I can’t even want to kill myself! Someone next to me always wants this more than me," Jensen couldn't hold his tears anymore, slowly streaming down his face. "You wanted to know, what it means when you can't talk to your neighbor, because all you feel is indifference and readiness to die, and then it's sympathy and pity. When you're afraid to look in the windows, because some boy can hit the other, and it would be you who's hurt. When you feel, like you’re burning alive, like your skin is torn apart, because next to your house some car crash happened, and all you can do not to get lost in this pain is to cut yourself, just to feel your own pain, not someone else's," Jensen falls silent, turning away from Jared. "And after everything, all you can do is, even though you don't want it, take the pills, the sedatives and the hypnotic, to finally fall asleep and hope that you will never wake up," Jensen falls silent, looking at his own hands in bandages.
He doesn't know why he just told this man everything, how he couldn't control himself, he just started and he couldn't stop anymore. Even if Jared now thinks that Jensen is a total freak and goes away, at least Jensen will know that he told him the truth.
He's ready to hear 'freak' or 'softhead', but instead of that, he sees like Jared's hand covering his own and squeezing a little.
"You're the only one who I don't feel anything strange around," quietly, almost whispering, says Jensen. "I feel normal when I'm with you," Jensen slowly lifts his eyes to Jared.
He sits here, circled in the usual yellow haze and smiles softly.
"You are normal to me, like everyone else," Jared says softly. "It’s just that you eat pizza like a total freak," he grins slightly, and Jensen grins back. "That's why I went to the shop and bought quite a bit of normal food," Jared grins again. "Rest a little, sleep, I'll make us something to eat," Jared stands slowly, taking away his hand why Jensen feels cold.
Jensen lifts his gaze on Jared, frightened, not knowing what to say or ask, but it seems like Jared already learnt how to read Jensen. "Don't worry; I won't go anywhere further than kitchen. I'll hear you if you call me," Jared takes the comforter, helping Jensen to lie more comfortably, and then he covers him.
"Jared?" Jensen calls quietly when Jared is almost out of the room. He turns away, smiling slightly. "Thanks," in the same quiet tone says Jensen. "For everything," he adds. Jared just waves a hand, going out of the bedroom.
**
When Jensen wakes up, it's raining again outside the window. Heavy drops hit the roof, and maybe that's why Jensen woke up.
He sits on the bed slowly, listening to his sensations. He already forgot when the last time that he woke up to such a nice silence, such a cozy emptiness was.
He shivers, snuggling tighter in the comforter, and slowly stands from the bed. He exits the bedroom, carefully stepping with his bare feet on the floor.
From the kitchen he can smell a tasty aroma, and Jensen understands that Jared really didn't go anywhere.
He feels warm and comfortable knowing that, and this new feeling scares him, while at the same time it relaxes him.
He quietly goes to the kitchen, watching how Jared tinkers with the range. Around him there is the usual light yellow haze that now is even orange and Jensen smiles slightly.
Jared mumbles something under his breath, some melody, not noticing anything in the room.
When he turns around to take the plate with something on it (Jensen doesn't understand what it is), he stands still and looks at Jensen.
"And how long have you been standing there?" Jared asks carefully.
"Not long," Jensen comes slowly and sits at the table, which, to Jensen's surprise, is absolutely clear.
"I’m almost finished," Jared smiles slightly, turning to the range.
**
Jensen doesn't know what this dish is called, because Jared said it's his mom's recipe, and no one outside his family can know about it.
Jensen doesn't care actually, because it's unbelievably tasty, and he decides to let this secret be a secret.
"Jensen," Jared says carefully, not lifting his eyes. Jensen stops for a second, holding the fork with food still on it in the air, looking at Jared. "When you-" Jared is fiddling with his food on the plate. "When you knew that-" Jared doesn't finish, lifting his gaze. It's strange; he just can't say this word.
"In the hospital," Jensen lowers his fork, frowning. It seemed that after a few years you've given up, accepted it, but it still hurts just to talk about it. "Back then the tumor was small, the doctors said it was inoperable, too close to the nerves and I could die if they tried to do something. They said I had a few years. I haven’t checked since then,” Jensen finishes, picking at his food.
"But...why?" Jared asks, not understanding. "Maybe, the doctors could-"
"They can't do anything!" Jensen screams, and Jared even flinches. "They said - they can't do anything. What's the point trying? Why even think about it, hope for some miracle, counting the days? I don't want this, Jared!" Jensen sharply stands up, throwing his fork on the plate. "Don't!"
Jared is looking at him, uncertain, not knowing what to say or do.
"But doctors can-" Jared carefully stands up, too, but Jensen just moves away from him.
"I don't want to go back, don't want to, please, don't, no-no-no-" Jensen moves backwards from Jared, till he stands right against the wall, feeling the sticky fear, the dark-red poisoned liquid spreading all over his veins. The walls start to move closer, and he doesn't know where to run, what to do.
"Hey, hush, I won't let you go anywhere, I won't let anyone take you away from me, you're here, you're ok, no one’s gonna take you away," Jared tries to calm Jensen, he says something quietly, but steady, calmly, and it reminds Jensen so much of the doctors in the hospital. They seemed so friendly and nice at first sight, and now even Jared doesn't seem who he is.
"Don't, please, not there, not again, please-" it's hard to breathe because of the fear, each breath is pure pain.
"Jensen-" Jared walks towards him, almost face to face. He could touch him now if he reaches out his hand, but right in this moment Jensen loses control.
The walls are closing threateningly, leaving less and less air, and the fear is almost paralyzing, and it seems like after just one minute it won't be possible to do anything.
Jensen rushes, shoving Jared in the chest, pushing him away, trying to reach to the door.
It thunders on the street, and the lightning flashes in the window, but it seems like everything is happening in some other place, not here, where the only one person who Jensen could trust just betrayed him.
**
Jensen runs out on the street, under the heavy rain, trying to collect his thoughts, deciding where to run.
Around him bright scarlet is mixing with the almost black color of the sky, and shades of blue are dissolving in the puddles.
Jensen takes a few steps, but his feet desperately resist; his head is buzzing with thoughts and it seems like someone cuts him without a knife, and the blood streaming down his hands, soaking in the crystal white bandages, turning it in the dirty cloth.
"Jensen!" Jared almost catches up with him, almost. His breath is heavy and wet hair gets into his face and eyes. He now so resembles a lost puppy, Jensen thinks, and he wants so much to reach him, feel this comfortable emptiness again.
But he still remembers too well, how this emptiness changes with full oblivion, when you don't remember your own name, and everything around you stops, and you don't understand how much time has passed - one hour or one day, or maybe a week?..
"I won't go back there!" he shouts, running on the road.
It's evening, almost dark outside, and it's hard to see further than a few feet because of the rain.
Jensen slowly goes backwards, and only now he feels cold water under his feet - when he ran out of the apartment, he forgot to put on his shoes.
"Jensen, please," Jared slowly walks to him, not knowing what to do. He can't even imagine that Jensen could be sacred so much of him. But he said that Jared was the only one...
"Why are you doing this? Why, Jared?!" Jensen grabs his head with his hands, stumbling, almost falling into the water.
"I'm not doing anything!" trying to shout over the rain and thunder, Jared screams. He walks slowly, not paying any attention to the puddles. "I promise, I won't let anyone take you away!" it is a childish, naive promise, but now it seems the most appropriate and needed. The one that Jared is ready to keep - never let anyone take Jensen away. Always be here for him. Always holding on. "Jensen!"
Each lost in his own thoughts, they don't see the car right away, leaving the darkness.
Headlights, like projectors, light up Jensen, who stands there, in the middle of the road, and the only thing Jared has time to think about is to scream his name.
**
Jared sits in the corridor, staring at the white wall, not understanding how the colors can change with such rapid speed.
He's been sitting here for a few hours now - since the ambulance brought Jensen and him here.
Here is grey, almost black, interchanging with yellow; maybe, someone's been told some good news?
Jared sits, wondering if Jensen saw everything like this. Were the colors that bright?
"Mr. Padalecki?" the doctor with the clipboard in his hands walks to Jared, attentively watching him.
Around him different colors are mixing, but there are more of the warm shades, and Jared thinks that it's a good sign.
He sharply stands up from the chair.
"How is he?" Jared rubbing nervously on his still wet jeans, and then puts them on his chest.
"I have good news. Mr. Ackles got off easy, there are a few bruises, his leg is dislocated. If you hadn’t have push him away, everything would be much worse." The doctor smiles slightly, putting the clipboard under his armpit. "He's resting now, if you want-"
"Doc, what's with his tumor?" Jared interrupts, shifting from foot to foot.
"Excuse me?" the man asks him, uncertain.
"The tumor? In his head?" Jared asks, watching the yellow haze turning into grey, but then it becomes white, and then maize-yellow again.
"Sorry, but I don't understand what you're talking about," the doctor shrugs.
"He was at the hospital, he said there's a tumor in his head, inoperable, and he's dying!" Jared cries, not understanding, not knowing what to even think. It didn't seem like Jensen deceived him, he wouldn't do that. Besides, all these pills...
"Sir, I think, you should talk to him about it, but-" Dr. Morgan, as Jared read on his badge, is silent for a moment. "We took a CAT scan, because the last note in his medical card is five-years old. Seeing the diagnosis, we were worried and pretty much surprised, that he made it till today-"
Morgan falls silent, trying to speak as delicately as he could. "There's no tumor."
Jared blinks a few times, uncertain if he misheard the doctor.
"What?"
"There is no tumor. We called that mental hospital where Mr. Ackles was, they confirmed the diagnosis. Unfortunately, the doctor who's been treating Mr. Ackles doesn't work there anymore, so we don't have one-hundred percent confirmation of the diagnosis.”
"So, this is-" Jared looks at the doctor, surprised, trying to calm the chaos of his thoughts.
"I doubt this is a miracle," Morgan smiles, and the haze around him turns to orange. "I think there was a mistake."
"Mistake?! Are you kidding me? What fucking mistake?! They told him he was dying! And that they couldn’t do anything!" Jared fires up, drawing attention of other visitors. "And you call it 'a mistake'?!"
"Mr. Padalecki, please calm down or I will have to call security," Morgan says calmly, and his haze turns to grey.
Jared falls silent, trying to calm. This thing with colors and emotions really helps to read people, though he still doesn't understand why he can do it now.
"I'm sorry," he excuses himself quietly, looking at something on the floor.
"I'll check everything one more time, try to find that doctor, but for now I can't tell you anything else."
"Can I go to see him?" Jared asks carefully, uncertainly looking at the doctor. He just nods, walking to the side and letting Jared go.
**
Jensen lies on the sickbed, curled up in a small ball, like a kitten, trying to occupy as little room as he can. He put one hand under his cheek, the other he's fiddling with the edge of the pillowcase. His lips are moving silently, as if he’s speaking to someone, or just whispering something.
Jared slowly walks to the bed and sits. Jensen doesn't move, just closes his eyes, squeezing his lips in one tight line.
"Hey," Jared lifts his hand, he wants to lay it on Jensen's shoulder, but he isn't certain, that Jensen is conscious.
"I can't see anything," Jensen whispers quietly, fisting the edge of the pillow.
"What?" Jared practically opens his mouth: first they tell him there's no tumor in Jensen's head, and he isn't dying, and everything is ok, and now he says he can't see…?
"Everything is grey, Jared, I don't feel anything, even when you're not around," Jensen whispers frightened, looking at the window, watching the rain drops streaming down the glass.
Jared calms down a little, puts his hand on Jensen's shoulder, feeling his tension. He watches him attentively, trying to see any colors, but everything around is grey.
Nothing superfluous, nothing that shouldn't be in the hospital room. Jared wonders if Jensen saw him like this.
"Doctor said you got off easy," Jared says quietly, pressing his hand on Jensen's shoulder, soothing him. "We can go home soon," Jared smiles slightly, when Jensen, finally, looks at him.
"I'm so sorry, Jared," barely audible, he whispers, looking at Jared with his emerald eyes. So green, that Jared thinks for a moment that he's hallucinating.
"The most important thing is that you're ok," Jared says, shyly lowering his eyes. It's only now that he notices that it's warmer in the room, even brighter a little, and he's sure that Jensen doesn't see it. Now.
Watching the warm haze around Jensen, Jared doesn't feel right away as he takes his hand and now squeezes it tightly, as if he tries to hold on.
Jensen turns around, lying on his back, watching at the ceiling, his other hand on his belly.
Now that he knows the truth, he doesn't know what to do with it. His life had seemed so meaningless just a few hours ago, and now he feels like some strange feeling creeps inside of him, making him sick to his stomach, making his head spin, and he feels like it becomes harder to breath now, like there's less and less space in the room.
"Hey," he hears Jared's soft voice, and now there's a warm, big hand over his on his belly, pressing slightly, soothing him. He closes his eyes, sinking in this feeling, trying to catch onto it, to stay here, with Jared.
"They said, I'm not dying anymore," Jensen says quietly, and Jared almost wants to laugh - so stupid everything is. He’s angry - at the doctors, at Jensen, because he thought that he was dying, at himself, because he wasn't around before…
Maybe, if Jared met Jensen earlier, he would have known that he was okay earlier, too.
"You were never dying, Jensen," Jared says silently, looking at him. Jensen's eyes seem even bigger because of the tears that are in the corners. "When we're home, I'll bring you the biggest pizza we have, one with ham and mushrooms," Jared promises, smiling, "and everything will be different. We'll eat it, and then I'll drive you to the pizzeria. You'll see Katie, and you'll meet Tom, he's our boss and cook, and he makes that pizza you love so much, with ham and mushrooms," Jared begins to chatter, squeezing Jensen's hand even harder, not knowing who he tries to calm.
"Yeah," Jensen breathes, smiling, and there are wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the haze around him turns to blue.
**
After a few days Jared, as he promised, goes to see Jensen.
They let him go home right after they made all the analysis, and they were convinced there wasn't a tumor in his head.
And now Jared carries to Jensen his pizza. One with ham and mushrooms, as he promised, as Jensen likes.
The weather today is like Jared doesn't remember seeing before - the sun is shining and there are no any clouds on the blue sky.
The shades of yellow are spreading down the streets, somewhere changing into violet or purple - Jared isn't used to this yet, but almost unconsciously he notices every change - there kids are laughing, and here someone's car is stolen, and all these events create a unique palette of colors, which now only Jared can see.
He drives up to the familiar multistory, takes the box with pizza from the backseat, and goes to the front door.
"Pizza!" he shouts, loudly banging on the door, and then he smiles to himself. Everything looks like usual, but at the same time, Jared knows that everything is totally different. And it won't ever be 'as usual.'
When no one answers him, Jared pulls open the door - which, as he thought, isn't closed. He quietly goes into the apartment, puts the box on the table in the kitchen - at Jared's surprise there are no any cups or brushes, nothing superfluous.
Jared frowns, putting the box on the table and goes to the living room.
"Jensen!" he calls, unable to hear him in the flat. He looks in the bedroom, then in the bathroom and in the big room - studio - but Jensen is nowhere to be seen.
First Jared thinks that Jensen went somewhere, because nothing stops him. But he knows that Jensen would never miss this morning, he just knows it.
Jared walks out of the apartment, and heads to the door that leads to the roof. He strangely hopes that Jensen is there, not anywhere else, because Jared hopes that Jensen is waiting for him.
Walking up on the small stairs, Jared walks out to the roof.
The sky here has pink and purple colors, and from above the fluffy clouds look at him. Not far away, next to the board of the roof, Jared sees Jensen.
He just stands there and watches the sky, the streets, people who look like small dots on the clear canvas from here.
Jared walks closer, barely touching Jensen's hand. His eyes are shinning with green, and Jared thinks that they just seem to shine, because now he knows why he sees the colors not like the others. Though, he still doesn't know how.
Jensen told him that he couldn't feel him, Jared remembers. He thought that he couldn't feel Jensen, too, but what is happening right now in Jensen's head couldn't be called 'an emptiness.'
Jared looks at Jensen, frightened, not understanding which thought to catch - he feels too much, when Jensen - Jared knows - doesn't feel anything.
They stand on the roof, from where the whole world seems to be under your hand, where you can feel yourself as the king of the world, on top of everything, and only now Jared feels how he falls down swift.
"Before you started to come," Jensen starts, quietly, looking down, at all those people, "I counted. I always counted, hoping that it would become silent. When I was a kid, my dad always told me to count, when I couldn't sleep. So I counted. And then I fell asleep," Jensen falls silent for a second, lifting his head to the sky, to the rays of the bright sun, why the freckles on his pale face seem to be bright orange dots. "When the accident happened, I was counting. Before I lost it, I reached three hundred. Five minutes. It's been just five fucking minutes. And then I woke up, and they told me, that my dad died. And everything started. And I counted. And then you appeared, and I never reached the three hundred since then. You always came before I could. And everything was silent." Jensen turns to Jared, smiling slightly. "I counted. I hoped that I'll start to feel again, but-" Jensen breathes, shrugging. "Nothing."
Jared watches him, watches how the colors around Jensen change, how the sky changes its color, how everything around him becomes brighter.
"I can't, Jared," Jensen stands on the board, closing his eyes. "Two hundred ninety-eight-"
"Jensen?" Jared, shifting from foot to foot, lifting his hand, trying to reach out, but not sure if he can catch Jensen and pull him down.
"It's too silent, Jared, too dark," Jensen says quietly, opening his eyes, that are shining even brighter now. "Two hundred ninety-nine-"
He turns away, biting his lower lip, breathes deeply and, stands with his back to Jared and to the whole world.
"Jensen, come here, come to me," Jared waves his hand, calling Jensen, trying not to give in to the panic, raising inside of him, spreading all over his veins.
"I can't, Jared, it's too silent," Jensen whispers, making one step back. "Three hundred."
He closes his eyes, sinking in the emptiness that wrapping its hands around him, feeling like someone grabbing his hand, embracing him, and the darkness inside of him turns to light, and the cold emptiness - to full warmth, and he finally feels what he wanted to feel so badly on the three-hundredth second.
~end.
part one
Jared can't sleep tonight, which is pretty strange for him. Usually he falls asleep before his head hardly touches the pillow, and in the morning he wakes up to the alarm at 6 o'clock, jogs, drinks his morning cup of coffee, drives to the pizzeria (where he drinks another cup of coffee), then he reads the newspaper, and only closer to midday does he starts delivering orders.
Usually.
Now Jared shifts in the bed, not able to find the right position, and he thinks about what he learned today.
In his whole life he’s never experienced anything stranger than pierced tires. He can't say that he’s had a happy childhood, but he can't say the opposite.
Though he always thought that he just didn't pay much attention, he’s starting to realize that maybe he just didn’t care. Everything that happened around him wasn't interesting.
It happened, it was a part of reality, but it didn’t interfere with his tiny sliver of reality. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with him, he doesn't care.
So now Jared vaguely imagines what he should do in this situation. He’s never had anyone who he wanted to take care of. His parents were always something he was used to, something that was just there for him to take for granted. He’s never thought about the abstract theory of, “there can be no parents.” They are his parents, right? They’ll always be here.
He moved when he was eighteen, after he saw some movie on the old TV. It was about two friends, who started the journey across the states. They had no money, no dreams; they just wanted to see the world, because life's too short to spend it so uselessly.
Jared's ardor didn't last long, and he stayed here, in this town, where it rains almost every day, and he kept his job at this pizzeria, where your work day starts at noon, but where he goes, nonetheless, 9 o'clock everyday.
He just thought that, though life is too short, he had time anyway. The world won't disappear, how many years has it stood until now? It'll stand a little more.
Now Jared thinks, for the first time, if he did the right thing. Now, when the green numbers on his alarm show him that it's after 2AM already.
He rolls over again onto the other side of bed, turning to face the window, watching the rain drops that are streaming down the glass.
It really does rain almost every day in this town, and Jared doesn't know why he’s lived here so long, because he's from Texas, and he should hate rain. Though now it's relaxing him, even lulling him to sleep.
He's been thinking about Jensen the whole evening, imaging this lump in his head, and that Jensen could die because of it. He seemed so childish and happy when Jared saw him last time, and his paintings are really interesting.
And though Jared doesn't understand practically anything about art, he does understand one thing - he likes them. And he likes Jensen. And he likes spending time with him.
He, generally, likes to feel this 'like', because he hasn't felt anything like this before.
The next morning Jared has to skip his morning jog, not because it's raining (again), but because he overslept.
Which is pretty strange and new for him, also, because he’s never overslept before.
He drinks his coffee fast, and goes to work, because it's almost nine, and though Tom wouldn't say anything if Jared was late, Jared doesn't want to be late.
He doesn't want to break his usual way of life, this routine, this habit, that he's so used to now. And, of course, he doesn't want some artist to be the reason for it.
Jared is sitting at his usual place, drinking his second cup of coffee, and reading the newspaper when Katie comes up to him.
"You're late," she notices, turning on the small TV. She likes to have something buzzing in the background.
"As usual," says Jared, without tearing his eyes away from the paper. Katie just nods, mumbling something like 'yeah, sure,' and then she turns to the TV.
He's running through the sports section, when he hears Katie gasp, surprised. Jared slowly raises his eyes, noticing how worried she is.
"God, what a terrible accident-" she says quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. She looks so small right now, so unprotected, that Jared wants to...do something. Though, he remains seated on his chair.
He moves his eyes to the TV screen. It's some kind of an urgent news block, showing images from the place where the accident happened: a few cars are crushed like they’re toys; policemen and medical professionals are everywhere, as are people, sirens, and the voice of an announcer, though Jared can hardly hear anything.
"It's right next to where Jensen lives," Katie says absently, biting her nails. Bad habit: she always does that when she’s afraid or worried.
Jared puts the newspaper aside and gets up from his chair, moving closer to the TV.
"When did it happen?"
"This night. Or in the early morning, very early, it was slick on the roads because of the rain. Jared, they say the whole family died, and there were little kids." Katie looks at Jared, scared, but then she turns to the TV again.
She always takes everything too close to her heart. Sometimes Jared wonders how she hasn't gone crazy yet, because accidents happen in this town almost as often as it rains.
It's only after a few announcers' lines, which Jared doesn’t hear, that he remembers what Katie said.
It happened right next to where Jensen lives. It means that he, at least, knows about it. And surely not from the news.
Jared remembers this frightened gaze, and this empty face, and how Jensen told him 'that man didn't die immediately.' Only, then it had looked like he was joking, just a joke in which Jared didn't believe or understand.
Now, though, there's some strange uneasiness inside of him, which doesn't let him breathe easily. Strange thoughts and forms start to sneak into his head, and Jared feels the fear.
He doesn't know what fear is, because he’s never been afraid of anything before. Not that he was that fearless, it's just that he’s never thought that it's possible to be scared of something until it actually happens to you.
He knows what fear is from his mom's stories, from his childhood, when she took him down from the tree, or somewhere else, and she told him how scared she was.
Now Jared understands his mom like he never did before.
"Tell Tom, I’m taking the day off," Jared shoots and heads to the door, slipping on his jacket on his way out.
Katie blinks a few times, not knowing what to do now. She can't stop Jared, but it’s too late to ask him about anything too – he already got in his car.
**
Jared tries to drive slowly, carefully, but his foot itself makes the most mileage out of his car. Wipers hardly manage to take away the water from the windshield, and Jared has to squint so he won't fly into something on his way.
He nervously looks at his watch, thinking about how much time has passed since the accident. The news was live and it means ER and police are still at work down there, it means nothing has ended yet.
Now Jared is ready to believe anything Jensen says, anything to prove it really was a joke. He absolutely doesn't like this feeling of fear and worry, ignorance and incomprehension.
When he flew out of the pizzeria, he didn't think of anything except of Jensen and the accident. And, even if Jared doesn't believe in Jensen's 'abilities,' he saw what he did to himself last time there was an accident, and Jared believes that Jensen believes, and that’s enough. He must protect Jensen from this belief.
After twenty minutes Jared is running to the front door. He's surprised by how he’s managed to drive that fast and make it to Jensen’s house this quickly.
He doesn't wait for the elevator, thinking that he'll run faster. On the thirteenth floor his breathing becomes heavy and he thinks absently that he needs to go jogging more, but the stream of his thoughts is cut when he hears the loud scream emanate from behind the Jensen's door.
Jared stands still, as if in some kind of a stupor, because he’s never heard such scream, so full of pain. The scream doesn't calm down; it only becomes louder, and if Jared hadn't fallen into the emptiness, he'd hear the words behind the cries instead of one solid, steady, inhuman wail.
He flies to the apartment, barely managing to not knock down the door, which, to Jared's surprise, isn’t locked.
"Jensen?!" he shouts, looking around. It's dark in here, the curtains are pulled, and only from the side of the kitchen there is some light.
Jared almost chokes when he sees Jensen: he's lying on the floor, curled up in a small ball, his head wrapped in his hands, dirtied with fresh blood. Next to him there are a few knives, one of which is covered in blood, from the other side - broken cup.
Jensen moans, curling up even more, trembling with his whole body, and only then Jared finds strength in him to move.
"Jensen!" he falls on his knees near Jensen, picking him up to his shoulders, trying to see where the blood is coming from. God, there's so much blood...
Jared raises Jensen slightly, half-hugs him, trying to take his hands away from his head. His face is covered with blood, his eyes are shut tightly, and his lips are bitten through. He keeps on murmuring something though, and Jared is glad Jensen, at least, stopped screaming.
"Jensen, hey, come on, look at me." Jared lays his hand on Jensen's cheek, absently stroking his cheekbone, trying to catch his attention.
Jensen, not understanding himself, snuggles up even closer to Jared, gripping Jared’s collar with his hand.
"Onehundredtwentythree...onehundredtwentyfour...onehundretwentyfive-"
"What?" Jared can't understand what Jensen says, he thinks that he's counting, but he can't understand why. "Jensen!" he shouts, slightly shaking him. "Look at me!"
"Please, God, stop it, please, I can't-" Jensen moans, breathing brokenly, desperately trying to catch the air with his gaping mouth. "Onehundredtwentysix...onehudredtwentyseven-"
"Jensen, please, wake up." Jared doesn't understand himself, when his steady voice becomes pleading. He firmly presses Jensen to his chest, as if he's afraid that the space between them hurts Jensen, and rocks him slowly, lulling him, soothing.
After a few minutes, which seem to Jared a whole eternity, Jensen looks at him almost consciously: his eyes are red and puffy, and there are tears in the corners. On his cheeks, covered in blood, the trails of tears can be seen, and on his chin the thin track of blood almost dries up.
Jared swallows, pushing back Jensen's hair from his wet forehead.
"Hey, it's me, Jared," he smiles slightly, because he can't do anything else right now.
Jensen looks at him for a moment, and then, with closed eyes, he snuggles closer, burying his face in Jared's neck, holding harder onto his jacket with lacerated hands.
"Don't go," he murmurs, barely audible, and Jared feels something wet under his hand, which he still refuses to move from Jensen’s face. "Please," Jensen whispers, not trusting his voice. "Please, just don't go," he asks and Jared feels a lump in his throat.
He can physically feel the fear that captured Jensen, the fear of being left alone, alone with his (or someone else's?) emotions, which he can't fight. Can't fight alone.
"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," Jared whispers, burying his chin in Jensen's crown, carding his fingers in Jensen's soft and short hair. "You're not alone, you'll never be alone anymore, don't be afraid," Jared keeps soothing till Jensen, not able to fight oblivion anymore, falls in the cozy and empty silence.
**
Jared easily lifts Jensen from the floor and takes him to the bedroom.
He's never been here before, and he's surprised a little, because the room is absolutely different from the other part of the apartment.
The walls are light-blue. Next to a small curtained-off window there's a table, and next to the other wall - a big bed. On the opposite side there's a bookcase, and as a matter of fact, there's nothing else in the bedroom. Only a small cupboard with the lamp on it next to the bed.
There are no thrown brushes, or cups from paint, or any other art paraphernalia. The only one word that spins on Jared's tongue is 'empty'.
Jared lays Jensen down on the bed and goes to the bathroom to look for a first-aid kit, towel and everything else he needs.
Jensen's hands are deeply and determinedly cut that Jared doesn't want to think that he did it to himself. He is afraid just to think so.
He looks into the cabinet in the bathroom and hardly manages to catch the fall of a bottle of pills. He glances over and practically moans - the cupboard is filled with all kinds and sorts of bottles with different lables. Some are empty, some are new.
Jared puts the bottle back carefully and slowly closes the cabinet, taking the first-aid kit from only.
From the mirror some frightened kid is looking at him: his face is covered with blood, his hair is a mess, and his gaze is tired and scared. Jared feels sorry for himself.
He grabs a towel from the kitchen, where he also takes the deep bowl, and fills it with warm water.
He returns to the bedroom, where Jensen, lying on the very edge of the bed, has already come to his senses.
"Hey," Jared calls quietly, dragging the chair with him, trying to balance with everything in his hands. Jensen just turns his head, looking at him tiredly. "I...here-" Jared puts everything on the nightstand, and sits on the chair before Jensen, uncertain.
He starts to sit on the bed, slowly, but when he almost falls, Jared catches him and lays him on the pillows. "Don't, lie down." He takes another seat on the bed, wetting the towel, and carefully takes Jensen’s hand in his own.
Somewhere blood is already dried off, turning into crust, and now Jared sees that the cuts aren't as deep as they seemed, it's just that there are too many of them.
He carefully washes Jensen's hand, trying not to touch the cuts, constantly whispering 'sorry' when Jensen hisses sharply or screws his eyes shut.
Jared looks at him, uncertainly, feeling like there's something between them, like a big pink elephant in the room, that doesn't give a rest.
"Just ask," Jensen says quietly, looking somewhere.
"I've met this old lady from the ground floor the other day," Jared starts, unsurely, taking Jensen's other hand in his.
"Mrs. Roberts," Jensen echoes even quieter, watching as the pink water trickles down from the towel to the plate.
"I guess, she's your neighbor?" evasively asks Jared, already sorry that he started all this. Jensen just nods. "She said-" Jared falls silent, not knowing what to say next. How to say what he wants to say.
"Ask me," Jensen says almost silently again, closing his eyes.
The room is filled with a heavy silence, and even Jensen didn't think that silence could be so unpleasant. "Just ask-" he opens his eyes, desperately trying not to look at Jared. He just can't look at him right now, not into his eyes.
"You-" Jared swallows, shifting in his seat. He instinctively squeezes Jensen's hand tightly.
"Yes, Jared, I'm dying," Jensen says firmly, finally lifting his eyes to look at Jared.
There aren't any emotions in his gaze, and it makes some sloppy feeling move inside - Jensen's eyes have never been that empty, there was always something in them.
"And I don't know when it'll happen. And no one knows. I can fall asleep today and never wake up, and no one will know. And-" Jensen doesn't understand when he starts to talk one tone higher, and it becomes harder to breathe, and his chest is being squeezed by something, and suddenly the room is starting to fill with this terrible grey color.
Jared gets much closer, starts to say something, and tries to interrupt Jensen, as if he’s trying to make himself heard.
"You're not alone. You'll never be alone anymore, you hear me?" Jared takes Jensen's face in his hands, looking right in his frightened green eyes. Jensen breathes deeply, trying to calm down and to concentrate on the eyes before him.
"Jared-" Jensen whispers, feeling his voice trembling. "I don't want to die alone." Unable to hold his gaze anymore, he blinks, and two tears stream down his pale cheeks.
Jared tightly presses Jensen to his chest, hugs him, buries his nose in the soft crew cut of his hair, and just holds him, because he doesn’t know what to say.
Jensen is trembling slightly; face still buried in Jared’s shirt, afraid to look him in the eyes – all because he’s afraid that he, regardless of what’s been said, will be alone. He’s afraid that everything will turn out to be a lie, one of those nightmares that he sees so often in his sleep. A nightmare, because there's nothing worse for him - to find and loose at once.
**
After a few hours, when Jensen finally falls asleep, Jared carefully lifts himself from the bed and goes to the kitchen. Thinking, he decides to cook something, something normal and edible - pizza right now is so not what Jensen needs.
Besides, Jared fled from the pizzeria so fast that he totally forgot about Jensen's order.
Looking in the fridge, he understands that his joke about Jensen eating just pizza isn't really a joke. The fridge is absolutely empty, so Jared decides to walk a little, especially because the rain is over.
He looks in the bedroom, and, convinced that Jensen is still sound asleep and will stay that way, he exits the apartment.
Since the day he moved here, Jared liked only one thing - this time, right after the rain. This sky, when grey clouds start to go away, and somewhere, like small islands, the blue sky punches out.
It doesn’t take an hour for Jared to return, and he thinks that Jensen is still asleep.
He silently enters the apartment, takes the shopping in to the kitchen and goes to the bedroom to check on Jensen.
"Jensen!" getting over the space between them practically in two steps, Jared knocks out the bottle full of tablets from Jensen's hands, which he is desperately trying to swallow. "Are you nuts?!" Jared grabs Jensen's neck, while his other hand tries to unlock his jaws, forcing him to spit everything out. "Spit! Don't swallow them!"
Jensen coughs, spitting the tablets on the floor, trembling with his whole body, desperately trying to breathe.
His eyes are covered with a shroud; it seems like the whole palette of colors comes down upon him. His chest is squeezed painfully and his blood is pulsing in his veins.
Jensen doesn't immediately understand that someone is leading him to the bathroom, dipping him into the cold water.
"Come on, Jensen!" Jared opens his mouth with force, pushing two fingers inside, causing him to vomit.
Jensen coughs and dry heaves a bit, but he spits out the tablets.
How many times has he done this? Nothing new, usual pain, usual darkness. But now strong hands hold him, and a steady voice is telling him something. And though Jared can't make out what this voice is saying, he tries to catch on these words, on this voice, like it's a life belt that is keeping him conscious.
"Come on, come here, I got you." After a few minutes, Jensen feels something cold on his neck, then on his face. "Why did you do it?" Jared puts his hand on Jensen's face, attentively looking him in the eyes. It makes Jensen go warm inside, it feels right - Jared's hands are enormous and Jensen is sinking in this strange, new condition. Jared only has to take his face in his hands.
Jensen closes his eyes, slowly breathing in and out, trying to calm his heart, pounding like crazy. Jared is still here, near, so close that it seems like they breathe the same air.
The chaos made with colors now turns to the cozy emptiness, warm shades, and Jensen feels the weakness that practically knocks him off his feet.
"Hey!" Jared catches him when Jensen almost falls, nearly hitting his head on the basin. "Jensen?" Jared asks, carefully holding him in his arms.
Jensen slowly opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling, blinking as if he's trying to focus on something. Then he turns his gaze on Jared.
"It was too loud," he says quietly, still looking at Jared.
"Loud?"
"I couldn't make out anything... I just wanted silence," Jensen answers, again closing his eyes, softening in Jared's arms.
"Come on, let's go back to the bedroom," and though 'let's go' means that they both have to actually walk, Jared carries Jensen almost the whole way to the bed.
Jared lays Jensen on the bed, his peripheral vision noticing the cups on the floor. He made out that almost all tablets were sedatives, not the strongest ones, but one bottle of that was enough to calm someone down forever.
"You're such an idiot," Jared mutters, looking tiredly at Jensen. He looks away guilty.
"I thought you were gone and I just wanted some peace," Jensen closes his eyes, breathing brokenly.
"I was in the shop, sorry I didn't warn you. You were asleep," Jared adds, justifying himself. He doesn't understand himself, why he says this; he just wants Jensen to know it. "You shouldn't take so many pills," he says quietly, throwing the empty bottle on the nightstand, in the pile so many others.
"It helps me doze off." Jensen turns to Jared, hoping that he understands him.
"Jensen, do you live alone? Where's your family?" Jared starts carefully, hoping that Jensen won't shut him out.
"My mom's at home, and my dad-" he falls silent for a second. "I know you don't believe me. No one believes me," Jensen says, suddenly conscious looking at Jared.
"Jen-" Jared starts, but Jensen interrupts.
"Even if you tell me that you believe me, I know that it's not true. You, like everyone else, think that I'm some kind of a freak, who gorges on pills, cuts himself, and doesn't eat anything but pizza!" Jensen now speaks louder; his words are clearer, and from that, much angrier.
"You don't know what I think! You told me that I'm different, you can't 'see' me!" Jared makes quotes in the air, calming a little. "Whatever it means," he adds quietly, breathing deeply.
"Whatever it means? I can tell you what it means," Jensen says, hardly containing himself. Jared watches him attentively, not able to speak.
He wants to refuse, to say that he doesn't need to prove anything, he believes Jensen without it. He believes, because it's Jensen, because he can't not believe him.
"My dad died when I was fifteen, and after that it all started-" Jensen waves in the air with his hand. "Since then I can feel what other people feel. My mom immediately sent me away to the mental home; she thought that I went crazy after dad’s death, that I was off my rocker or something. Doctors just parted their hands, and each time I started to tell the truth, they pumped me with the sedatives, so I laid there for a few days, like a living dead body, not feeling anything, not me, not someone else. And after three years my mom told me that she wouldn't pay for me anymore and that then I was my own boss. And then they "released" me, they said that I hadn't had any attacks for a long time, and they could let me out. And you know why I hadn't had any attacks? Do you know why, Jared? Because I didn't fucking feel anything! Even myself! What are you talking about if you couldn't sit straight, huh? And then there was college. I'd been accepted because the doctors took advantage of the opportunity. I painted a lot when I was in the hospital, and they decided that I'm some kind of special, and they accepted me without any exams," Jensen shrugs.
Each word is too hard for him to tell, like his memories physically hurt him, and it burns from the tears that stand stark in the bottom of his eyes.
"I didn't make it till the end of the first semester, because college for me - it's like minefield. I couldn't study right, talk to people, I was on the edge. In the end of the first semester everything got shot to hell. Because I couldn't stay in one room with more than one person, because I was ready to shoot myself. But, you know, why I didn't do that yet? Because even this desire - is not mine. I can’t even want to kill myself! Someone next to me always wants this more than me," Jensen couldn't hold his tears anymore, slowly streaming down his face. "You wanted to know, what it means when you can't talk to your neighbor, because all you feel is indifference and readiness to die, and then it's sympathy and pity. When you're afraid to look in the windows, because some boy can hit the other, and it would be you who's hurt. When you feel, like you’re burning alive, like your skin is torn apart, because next to your house some car crash happened, and all you can do not to get lost in this pain is to cut yourself, just to feel your own pain, not someone else's," Jensen falls silent, turning away from Jared. "And after everything, all you can do is, even though you don't want it, take the pills, the sedatives and the hypnotic, to finally fall asleep and hope that you will never wake up," Jensen falls silent, looking at his own hands in bandages.
He doesn't know why he just told this man everything, how he couldn't control himself, he just started and he couldn't stop anymore. Even if Jared now thinks that Jensen is a total freak and goes away, at least Jensen will know that he told him the truth.
He's ready to hear 'freak' or 'softhead', but instead of that, he sees like Jared's hand covering his own and squeezing a little.
"You're the only one who I don't feel anything strange around," quietly, almost whispering, says Jensen. "I feel normal when I'm with you," Jensen slowly lifts his eyes to Jared.
He sits here, circled in the usual yellow haze and smiles softly.
"You are normal to me, like everyone else," Jared says softly. "It’s just that you eat pizza like a total freak," he grins slightly, and Jensen grins back. "That's why I went to the shop and bought quite a bit of normal food," Jared grins again. "Rest a little, sleep, I'll make us something to eat," Jared stands slowly, taking away his hand why Jensen feels cold.
Jensen lifts his gaze on Jared, frightened, not knowing what to say or ask, but it seems like Jared already learnt how to read Jensen. "Don't worry; I won't go anywhere further than kitchen. I'll hear you if you call me," Jared takes the comforter, helping Jensen to lie more comfortably, and then he covers him.
"Jared?" Jensen calls quietly when Jared is almost out of the room. He turns away, smiling slightly. "Thanks," in the same quiet tone says Jensen. "For everything," he adds. Jared just waves a hand, going out of the bedroom.
**
When Jensen wakes up, it's raining again outside the window. Heavy drops hit the roof, and maybe that's why Jensen woke up.
He sits on the bed slowly, listening to his sensations. He already forgot when the last time that he woke up to such a nice silence, such a cozy emptiness was.
He shivers, snuggling tighter in the comforter, and slowly stands from the bed. He exits the bedroom, carefully stepping with his bare feet on the floor.
From the kitchen he can smell a tasty aroma, and Jensen understands that Jared really didn't go anywhere.
He feels warm and comfortable knowing that, and this new feeling scares him, while at the same time it relaxes him.
He quietly goes to the kitchen, watching how Jared tinkers with the range. Around him there is the usual light yellow haze that now is even orange and Jensen smiles slightly.
Jared mumbles something under his breath, some melody, not noticing anything in the room.
When he turns around to take the plate with something on it (Jensen doesn't understand what it is), he stands still and looks at Jensen.
"And how long have you been standing there?" Jared asks carefully.
"Not long," Jensen comes slowly and sits at the table, which, to Jensen's surprise, is absolutely clear.
"I’m almost finished," Jared smiles slightly, turning to the range.
**
Jensen doesn't know what this dish is called, because Jared said it's his mom's recipe, and no one outside his family can know about it.
Jensen doesn't care actually, because it's unbelievably tasty, and he decides to let this secret be a secret.
"Jensen," Jared says carefully, not lifting his eyes. Jensen stops for a second, holding the fork with food still on it in the air, looking at Jared. "When you-" Jared is fiddling with his food on the plate. "When you knew that-" Jared doesn't finish, lifting his gaze. It's strange; he just can't say this word.
"In the hospital," Jensen lowers his fork, frowning. It seemed that after a few years you've given up, accepted it, but it still hurts just to talk about it. "Back then the tumor was small, the doctors said it was inoperable, too close to the nerves and I could die if they tried to do something. They said I had a few years. I haven’t checked since then,” Jensen finishes, picking at his food.
"But...why?" Jared asks, not understanding. "Maybe, the doctors could-"
"They can't do anything!" Jensen screams, and Jared even flinches. "They said - they can't do anything. What's the point trying? Why even think about it, hope for some miracle, counting the days? I don't want this, Jared!" Jensen sharply stands up, throwing his fork on the plate. "Don't!"
Jared is looking at him, uncertain, not knowing what to say or do.
"But doctors can-" Jared carefully stands up, too, but Jensen just moves away from him.
"I don't want to go back, don't want to, please, don't, no-no-no-" Jensen moves backwards from Jared, till he stands right against the wall, feeling the sticky fear, the dark-red poisoned liquid spreading all over his veins. The walls start to move closer, and he doesn't know where to run, what to do.
"Hey, hush, I won't let you go anywhere, I won't let anyone take you away from me, you're here, you're ok, no one’s gonna take you away," Jared tries to calm Jensen, he says something quietly, but steady, calmly, and it reminds Jensen so much of the doctors in the hospital. They seemed so friendly and nice at first sight, and now even Jared doesn't seem who he is.
"Don't, please, not there, not again, please-" it's hard to breathe because of the fear, each breath is pure pain.
"Jensen-" Jared walks towards him, almost face to face. He could touch him now if he reaches out his hand, but right in this moment Jensen loses control.
The walls are closing threateningly, leaving less and less air, and the fear is almost paralyzing, and it seems like after just one minute it won't be possible to do anything.
Jensen rushes, shoving Jared in the chest, pushing him away, trying to reach to the door.
It thunders on the street, and the lightning flashes in the window, but it seems like everything is happening in some other place, not here, where the only one person who Jensen could trust just betrayed him.
**
Jensen runs out on the street, under the heavy rain, trying to collect his thoughts, deciding where to run.
Around him bright scarlet is mixing with the almost black color of the sky, and shades of blue are dissolving in the puddles.
Jensen takes a few steps, but his feet desperately resist; his head is buzzing with thoughts and it seems like someone cuts him without a knife, and the blood streaming down his hands, soaking in the crystal white bandages, turning it in the dirty cloth.
"Jensen!" Jared almost catches up with him, almost. His breath is heavy and wet hair gets into his face and eyes. He now so resembles a lost puppy, Jensen thinks, and he wants so much to reach him, feel this comfortable emptiness again.
But he still remembers too well, how this emptiness changes with full oblivion, when you don't remember your own name, and everything around you stops, and you don't understand how much time has passed - one hour or one day, or maybe a week?..
"I won't go back there!" he shouts, running on the road.
It's evening, almost dark outside, and it's hard to see further than a few feet because of the rain.
Jensen slowly goes backwards, and only now he feels cold water under his feet - when he ran out of the apartment, he forgot to put on his shoes.
"Jensen, please," Jared slowly walks to him, not knowing what to do. He can't even imagine that Jensen could be sacred so much of him. But he said that Jared was the only one...
"Why are you doing this? Why, Jared?!" Jensen grabs his head with his hands, stumbling, almost falling into the water.
"I'm not doing anything!" trying to shout over the rain and thunder, Jared screams. He walks slowly, not paying any attention to the puddles. "I promise, I won't let anyone take you away!" it is a childish, naive promise, but now it seems the most appropriate and needed. The one that Jared is ready to keep - never let anyone take Jensen away. Always be here for him. Always holding on. "Jensen!"
Each lost in his own thoughts, they don't see the car right away, leaving the darkness.
Headlights, like projectors, light up Jensen, who stands there, in the middle of the road, and the only thing Jared has time to think about is to scream his name.
**
Jared sits in the corridor, staring at the white wall, not understanding how the colors can change with such rapid speed.
He's been sitting here for a few hours now - since the ambulance brought Jensen and him here.
Here is grey, almost black, interchanging with yellow; maybe, someone's been told some good news?
Jared sits, wondering if Jensen saw everything like this. Were the colors that bright?
"Mr. Padalecki?" the doctor with the clipboard in his hands walks to Jared, attentively watching him.
Around him different colors are mixing, but there are more of the warm shades, and Jared thinks that it's a good sign.
He sharply stands up from the chair.
"How is he?" Jared rubbing nervously on his still wet jeans, and then puts them on his chest.
"I have good news. Mr. Ackles got off easy, there are a few bruises, his leg is dislocated. If you hadn’t have push him away, everything would be much worse." The doctor smiles slightly, putting the clipboard under his armpit. "He's resting now, if you want-"
"Doc, what's with his tumor?" Jared interrupts, shifting from foot to foot.
"Excuse me?" the man asks him, uncertain.
"The tumor? In his head?" Jared asks, watching the yellow haze turning into grey, but then it becomes white, and then maize-yellow again.
"Sorry, but I don't understand what you're talking about," the doctor shrugs.
"He was at the hospital, he said there's a tumor in his head, inoperable, and he's dying!" Jared cries, not understanding, not knowing what to even think. It didn't seem like Jensen deceived him, he wouldn't do that. Besides, all these pills...
"Sir, I think, you should talk to him about it, but-" Dr. Morgan, as Jared read on his badge, is silent for a moment. "We took a CAT scan, because the last note in his medical card is five-years old. Seeing the diagnosis, we were worried and pretty much surprised, that he made it till today-"
Morgan falls silent, trying to speak as delicately as he could. "There's no tumor."
Jared blinks a few times, uncertain if he misheard the doctor.
"What?"
"There is no tumor. We called that mental hospital where Mr. Ackles was, they confirmed the diagnosis. Unfortunately, the doctor who's been treating Mr. Ackles doesn't work there anymore, so we don't have one-hundred percent confirmation of the diagnosis.”
"So, this is-" Jared looks at the doctor, surprised, trying to calm the chaos of his thoughts.
"I doubt this is a miracle," Morgan smiles, and the haze around him turns to orange. "I think there was a mistake."
"Mistake?! Are you kidding me? What fucking mistake?! They told him he was dying! And that they couldn’t do anything!" Jared fires up, drawing attention of other visitors. "And you call it 'a mistake'?!"
"Mr. Padalecki, please calm down or I will have to call security," Morgan says calmly, and his haze turns to grey.
Jared falls silent, trying to calm. This thing with colors and emotions really helps to read people, though he still doesn't understand why he can do it now.
"I'm sorry," he excuses himself quietly, looking at something on the floor.
"I'll check everything one more time, try to find that doctor, but for now I can't tell you anything else."
"Can I go to see him?" Jared asks carefully, uncertainly looking at the doctor. He just nods, walking to the side and letting Jared go.
**
Jensen lies on the sickbed, curled up in a small ball, like a kitten, trying to occupy as little room as he can. He put one hand under his cheek, the other he's fiddling with the edge of the pillowcase. His lips are moving silently, as if he’s speaking to someone, or just whispering something.
Jared slowly walks to the bed and sits. Jensen doesn't move, just closes his eyes, squeezing his lips in one tight line.
"Hey," Jared lifts his hand, he wants to lay it on Jensen's shoulder, but he isn't certain, that Jensen is conscious.
"I can't see anything," Jensen whispers quietly, fisting the edge of the pillow.
"What?" Jared practically opens his mouth: first they tell him there's no tumor in Jensen's head, and he isn't dying, and everything is ok, and now he says he can't see…?
"Everything is grey, Jared, I don't feel anything, even when you're not around," Jensen whispers frightened, looking at the window, watching the rain drops streaming down the glass.
Jared calms down a little, puts his hand on Jensen's shoulder, feeling his tension. He watches him attentively, trying to see any colors, but everything around is grey.
Nothing superfluous, nothing that shouldn't be in the hospital room. Jared wonders if Jensen saw him like this.
"Doctor said you got off easy," Jared says quietly, pressing his hand on Jensen's shoulder, soothing him. "We can go home soon," Jared smiles slightly, when Jensen, finally, looks at him.
"I'm so sorry, Jared," barely audible, he whispers, looking at Jared with his emerald eyes. So green, that Jared thinks for a moment that he's hallucinating.
"The most important thing is that you're ok," Jared says, shyly lowering his eyes. It's only now that he notices that it's warmer in the room, even brighter a little, and he's sure that Jensen doesn't see it. Now.
Watching the warm haze around Jensen, Jared doesn't feel right away as he takes his hand and now squeezes it tightly, as if he tries to hold on.
Jensen turns around, lying on his back, watching at the ceiling, his other hand on his belly.
Now that he knows the truth, he doesn't know what to do with it. His life had seemed so meaningless just a few hours ago, and now he feels like some strange feeling creeps inside of him, making him sick to his stomach, making his head spin, and he feels like it becomes harder to breath now, like there's less and less space in the room.
"Hey," he hears Jared's soft voice, and now there's a warm, big hand over his on his belly, pressing slightly, soothing him. He closes his eyes, sinking in this feeling, trying to catch onto it, to stay here, with Jared.
"They said, I'm not dying anymore," Jensen says quietly, and Jared almost wants to laugh - so stupid everything is. He’s angry - at the doctors, at Jensen, because he thought that he was dying, at himself, because he wasn't around before…
Maybe, if Jared met Jensen earlier, he would have known that he was okay earlier, too.
"You were never dying, Jensen," Jared says silently, looking at him. Jensen's eyes seem even bigger because of the tears that are in the corners. "When we're home, I'll bring you the biggest pizza we have, one with ham and mushrooms," Jared promises, smiling, "and everything will be different. We'll eat it, and then I'll drive you to the pizzeria. You'll see Katie, and you'll meet Tom, he's our boss and cook, and he makes that pizza you love so much, with ham and mushrooms," Jared begins to chatter, squeezing Jensen's hand even harder, not knowing who he tries to calm.
"Yeah," Jensen breathes, smiling, and there are wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the haze around him turns to blue.
**
After a few days Jared, as he promised, goes to see Jensen.
They let him go home right after they made all the analysis, and they were convinced there wasn't a tumor in his head.
And now Jared carries to Jensen his pizza. One with ham and mushrooms, as he promised, as Jensen likes.
The weather today is like Jared doesn't remember seeing before - the sun is shining and there are no any clouds on the blue sky.
The shades of yellow are spreading down the streets, somewhere changing into violet or purple - Jared isn't used to this yet, but almost unconsciously he notices every change - there kids are laughing, and here someone's car is stolen, and all these events create a unique palette of colors, which now only Jared can see.
He drives up to the familiar multistory, takes the box with pizza from the backseat, and goes to the front door.
"Pizza!" he shouts, loudly banging on the door, and then he smiles to himself. Everything looks like usual, but at the same time, Jared knows that everything is totally different. And it won't ever be 'as usual.'
When no one answers him, Jared pulls open the door - which, as he thought, isn't closed. He quietly goes into the apartment, puts the box on the table in the kitchen - at Jared's surprise there are no any cups or brushes, nothing superfluous.
Jared frowns, putting the box on the table and goes to the living room.
"Jensen!" he calls, unable to hear him in the flat. He looks in the bedroom, then in the bathroom and in the big room - studio - but Jensen is nowhere to be seen.
First Jared thinks that Jensen went somewhere, because nothing stops him. But he knows that Jensen would never miss this morning, he just knows it.
Jared walks out of the apartment, and heads to the door that leads to the roof. He strangely hopes that Jensen is there, not anywhere else, because Jared hopes that Jensen is waiting for him.
Walking up on the small stairs, Jared walks out to the roof.
The sky here has pink and purple colors, and from above the fluffy clouds look at him. Not far away, next to the board of the roof, Jared sees Jensen.
He just stands there and watches the sky, the streets, people who look like small dots on the clear canvas from here.
Jared walks closer, barely touching Jensen's hand. His eyes are shinning with green, and Jared thinks that they just seem to shine, because now he knows why he sees the colors not like the others. Though, he still doesn't know how.
Jensen told him that he couldn't feel him, Jared remembers. He thought that he couldn't feel Jensen, too, but what is happening right now in Jensen's head couldn't be called 'an emptiness.'
Jared looks at Jensen, frightened, not understanding which thought to catch - he feels too much, when Jensen - Jared knows - doesn't feel anything.
They stand on the roof, from where the whole world seems to be under your hand, where you can feel yourself as the king of the world, on top of everything, and only now Jared feels how he falls down swift.
"Before you started to come," Jensen starts, quietly, looking down, at all those people, "I counted. I always counted, hoping that it would become silent. When I was a kid, my dad always told me to count, when I couldn't sleep. So I counted. And then I fell asleep," Jensen falls silent for a second, lifting his head to the sky, to the rays of the bright sun, why the freckles on his pale face seem to be bright orange dots. "When the accident happened, I was counting. Before I lost it, I reached three hundred. Five minutes. It's been just five fucking minutes. And then I woke up, and they told me, that my dad died. And everything started. And I counted. And then you appeared, and I never reached the three hundred since then. You always came before I could. And everything was silent." Jensen turns to Jared, smiling slightly. "I counted. I hoped that I'll start to feel again, but-" Jensen breathes, shrugging. "Nothing."
Jared watches him, watches how the colors around Jensen change, how the sky changes its color, how everything around him becomes brighter.
"I can't, Jared," Jensen stands on the board, closing his eyes. "Two hundred ninety-eight-"
"Jensen?" Jared, shifting from foot to foot, lifting his hand, trying to reach out, but not sure if he can catch Jensen and pull him down.
"It's too silent, Jared, too dark," Jensen says quietly, opening his eyes, that are shining even brighter now. "Two hundred ninety-nine-"
He turns away, biting his lower lip, breathes deeply and, stands with his back to Jared and to the whole world.
"Jensen, come here, come to me," Jared waves his hand, calling Jensen, trying not to give in to the panic, raising inside of him, spreading all over his veins.
"I can't, Jared, it's too silent," Jensen whispers, making one step back. "Three hundred."
He closes his eyes, sinking in the emptiness that wrapping its hands around him, feeling like someone grabbing his hand, embracing him, and the darkness inside of him turns to light, and the cold emptiness - to full warmth, and he finally feels what he wanted to feel so badly on the three-hundredth second.
~end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 10:05 pm (UTC)Yay!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 10:18 pm (UTC)Постить ФИКИ по сообществам куда тяжелее и муторнее, чем клипы...:?
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Date: 2009-07-17 10:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 10:22 pm (UTC)I did it! :P
yeah, I sent you e-mail with my squees and thank you's :D
(no subject)
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Date: 2009-07-18 01:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 06:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 01:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 06:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 03:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 06:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 04:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 06:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:19 am (UTC)I feel like Jared in that I can't really put into words what I liked about your story, I just really liked it.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:23 am (UTC)Well, yeah, it IS an open ending. You can think whatever you want to think - if you want a "live happily ever after", then you're free to think it, in fact, I myself prefer to think that Jared grabbed Jensen and ulled him and noone died.
And thank you! I'm glad you liked this story, and thank you for telling me this :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 10:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 11:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 12:00 pm (UTC)This fic was so tender, sweet and terrible in the same time, I've loved it.
The end was so sad. I didn't believed you let him die, and thanks for your comment on somone com, explaining the "open ending" In my mind, Jared grabs him just in time, but frankly I had to read it twice to fully understand you never said that.
But thanks anyway, and I hope to read you again soon.
<3
Kisses
San
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 12:05 pm (UTC)I think it's ok that you needed to read it at least twice to understand it. I wanted this ending to be like this.
And thanks for your comment :) I hope I'll write something more in future, too ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 04:56 pm (UTC)A somewhat sad, yet very touching fic. Thanks so much!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 04:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-19 06:20 am (UTC)Thanks! Glad you liked it :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-19 06:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-19 02:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-19 02:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-07-20 11:34 am (UTC)And I'm glad you chose the happy ending, thank you for this :) And also I'm glad you enjoyed reading this and thank you for commenting :) It really means a lot to me to know what people think of it ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-25 12:27 pm (UTC)I mean, I have to admit I'm not sure I understood everything, it was incredibly complex, and deep, and intense, but I know that you started with a bang and I'd love to keep reading your stuff.
Your writing is like your vidding, multilayered and shocking.
*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-25 01:59 pm (UTC)I'll make those walls for you as soon as I finish other art hon ;)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-27 01:42 pm (UTC)one word to that fic:
BEAUTIFUL!
;)
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Date: 2009-07-27 01:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-02-20 07:35 am (UTC)