Desperate Times - 38
Nov. 16th, 2008 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hemrageChapter 37 here.
Title: Desperate Times (37/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
Additional Warnings For This and Upcoming Chapters for those that want them – Reading these may, in my opinion, spoil your enjoyment of the story: (Highlight to read) Extreme medical practices, acts of terrorism, violence - murder and CHARACTER DEATH (I only kill original characters.)
Jensen sat uncomfortably on the hard, wooden seat, determined not to squirm, or look away, as she stared at him.
“You weren’t like this when Josh brought Lexi home. Damn it mom, you weren’t like this when Joe brought his first boyfriend home, either. Why are you doing this?” He hated the edge of pleading that had leaked into his words, but she’d been like this for days. She’d deliberately made Jared uncomfortable and, as he’d told his brother yesterday, before he took Jared back into his bed, he wasn’t prepared to try to hide them anymore. She didn’t have to like it, she just had to accept it. Accept that he knew what he was doing.
He hated that it hurt her – but she was responsible for the ill feeling, for the tension - she had no right to hurt Jared. It was the atmosphere round here that had caused Jared to leave with the others this morning, and Jensen couldn’t bear the possibility that Jared would look for other excuses to increase the distance between them if it continued.
“Because you’re not one of your brothers. That’s why?”
Jensen frowned, “What does that even mean?” He turned to his dad, who was sitting passively at the end of the table. Staring at his wife, but not contradicting her. “Dad?”
Alan sighed before turning to look at Jensen.
Jensen could see that his dad looked tired. His health had been deteriorating in recent years and acting as a buffer for his wife’s anger had to be a strain he didn’t need.
Jensen hoped he wasn’t wrong in assuming he had an ally in his father. “You’re mom’s right, Jen.” But, maybe he was. “You’ve never been like them. Never been the type to fight for something you want for yourself, or to retaliate when someone hurt you. Turn the other cheek, that’s you. Your mom’s just worried that this thing you’ve got going with Jared is happening for the wrong reasons.”
Before Jensen could comment, tell his dad that those fears were unfounded, his mother’s harsh tones filled the room, “Don’t you dare speak for me, Alan. Just don’t do it. I know what I mean. I know what I think.”
Jensen’s head bounced between his parents. His dad looking sad and resigned, his mom looking pissed. “Then you tell me mom. Tell me why. Please.”
He saw her deflate a little as the maternal side of her responded to the tone of his voice. To the pain and confusion she must’ve seen on his face. Her voice softened, but there was still something hard and unyielding lying beneath it. “I’m not angry at you baby. Please don’t think I am.”
Jensen shook his head, he did know that, even though he still felt the need to be defensive. “You’re angry at Jared?”
“I’m angry, Jensen, because this life shouldn’t be yours. You were happy.”
Jensen held his hands out, contained the wince when he moved on the seat. Reminding her of last night’s activities really wouldn’t be appropriate right now. “I am happy. Why can’t you see that? Accept it? You’ve not given us a chance. You just jumped to conclusions and refused to see that he – Jared – makes me happy.” He needed her to believe him, “I am happy.”
Donna shook her head, her hands doing that thing with her rings that he’d seen through countless hours, days, of unrest and anxiety. “Are you? Are you really? Or are you just making do?”
Making do?
“I don’t understand you.” Jensen sighed, looked down at his stomach, at the evidence that there were things more important in his life now than had ever existed before. How could she say these things? How could she say that what was happening in his life was him ‘making do’?
“Yes you do. Do you love that boy or are you…” she took a breath before she continued, the words obviously finding obstacles on their way out of her mouth – but not enough to stop her from saying them - “sleeping with him because it’s something he wants?”
“He’s not forcing me mom. Don’t think…”
“I didn’t say he was. I’m not suggesting …” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “Look honey, I don’t doubt that you have feelings for him. I may not like it, but I accept it. He seems like a nice enough man. But the sex. Are you sleeping with him just to make him happy? Do you actually enjoy it?”
Jensen stared at his mother, incredulously. Had she really just asked that question? Did she believe he was giving Jared his body just so Jared would smile occasionally? So he could sleep better? So that he got a little additional exercise? What the hell was she implying?
Jensen fought the irrational urge to laugh. He should be feeling angry now, furious, but instead he felt embarrassed that his mother was asking him about his sex life. That his reserved, ultra religious mom, was asking him whether he liked having someone stick a cock up his ass.
Hell, it had been Joe’s job to tell him the facts of life because neither of his parents could bring themselves to do it. This was not a conversation he wanted to get into, but, since she wanted an answer, he’d give her one.
“So you’re asking me what? Whether I get hard? Whether I come when I’m having sex with my boyfriend?” That was the very first time he’d referred to Jared as his boyfriend, he liked it, even if he had to fight to ignore his mother’s blush and his father’s sharp intake of breath. “Yes mom. The answer to both those questions is yes, I do. So can we please change the subject now?”
Jensen knew he was embarrassed, flushed, but he didn’t know, couldn’t tell, whether his face was any redder than those of his parents who looked at each other briefly before turning away.
His father stared at the plate in front of him, ate a little more, not because he wanted it but because it was a distraction.
His mother stood stiffly, back to him. Occasionally stirring the oatmeal that she’d abandoned to the mercy of the stove. Oatmeal that he knew he was going to eat, even if it was burned, just to please her.
Nothing more was said until his mother placed his breakfast in front of him, contents of the bowl steaming, even as he poured sugar onto it to make it more palatable.
He glanced wistfully at his dad’s plate, at the bacon, the eggs, but wouldn’t lift his eyes to his dad. Couldn’t do it. He picked up the spoon again and, after stirring the sugar in, began to eat. Each spoonful an effort to swallow round the lump that happily took up residence inside his chest.
It shouldn’t be so hard to be in the company of people he loved so damned much.
He just wanted to be allowed to be happy.
“Thanks mom.” She didn’t answer, but he felt her hand on the back of his head as she moved behind him, felt the hint of a kiss as her lips met his hair.
“You’re welcome, baby.” Her words were clipped, almost whispered, and Jensen knew that if he dared to look her way there’d be tears.
He knew it wasn’t over, that she still had problems with his relationship with Jared, and he didn’t know how he could convince her that things weren’t the way she feared. But he had hope, at least for today, that they’d called a truce.
Especially as he was planning on going over to have a little chat with Jeff soon as he could force enough of the oatmeal down to appease his mom’s desire to take care of him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jared looked nervous, stood outside the door, casting glances over his shoulder as if he was worried someone was going to jump him. Which, to be honest, in this neighborhood, in this building, wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility.
Through the partially open door Sam could see that the junkie had made it a few feet further along the hallway. From down the hall came the unmistakable sounds of violence: curses and grunts and bitten off screams as flesh impacted with flesh. There were screams of another kind coming from the room opposite. If the sounds were honest then someone was a great fuck, if not then the screamer was simply a great actor.
A particularly loud scream and even the gloom of the hallway couldn’t conceal Jared’s blush. Sam marveled a little at that ‘cause, fuck, he and Jen made more noise than that on a bad day.
Jared finally found his voice, forced out the words in between squeals and wails. “Chris wanted me to tell you, you got ten minutes before we move on.”
Sam silently cursed. If this was some dumbass idea to test Jared’s loyalty, to see if the boy would help or turn tail and run, it was ill judged.
He could see agitation on Jared’s face. Anxiety and about a million and one questions.
When Jack audibly groaned behind him he didn’t miss Jared’s frown and was almost tempted to close the door in the kid’s face. Keep him out of it.
Almost.
“Was that Jack?”
Sam didn’t answer, “Go back down and tell Chris I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Sam, is Jack with you? What the hell is going on?” Jared placed his hand on the door, but didn’t put any weight behind it. Sam could still close the door on him.
Jack grew louder, more determined to be heard, and Sam made a snap decision that he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t regret. He stepped back, let Jared in.
He watched as the young man froze, hand outstretched, but not touching the man who stared, bound and gagged, at him. Eyes, pleading for help.
“Why?” Jared didn’t turn, but Sam didn’t mistake the anger he heard in his voice. Didn’t miss the fear it was laced with.
Sam leant against the wall. He didn’t need Jared to be worried that he’d attack him, he needed to look unthreatening. Or at least less threatening, given that Jared had seen enough to know that Sam had blood on his hands. “You were so worried you may have been the cause of what happened to Sarah. So concerned that I might’ve blamed you for what happened to her. Once you knew it wasn’t you, did you even think about who had betrayed us?”
Sam watched as Jared’s confusion was replaced by realization. His eyes widened as he turned to Jack, stared at him before looking back to Sam. The blood had drained from his face, but the anger hadn’t abandoned him. “How do you know?”
“You think Sarah was the only person the Network had working at the Center?” Sam pointed towards the restrained man, stepped away from the wall as he did so. “He turned us in – it was only luck that more of us weren’t killed. Who knows? If Center security had actually been competent they may’ve been able to take us all.”
“But, why would he?”
“Because they promised him that kid he was always talking about. He thought it was his, believed it when they fed him the lie.”
Jack’s protests were muffled, his attention fixed on Jared. Sam moved forward, fast enough for Jack to flinch as he pulled out the gag. Jared needed to hear the words from Jack’s own mouth.
“Jared, I didn’t …”
Sam grabbed a hold of Jack’s purpling jaw, squeezing his mouth into an obscene pout. “Tell him. Tell him how you’re still fucking us over. How you’ve offered to give them Jensen and Trey.”
“Jensen?” Jared whirled towards the man in the chair, “Why?”
Jack didn’t speak, not even to plead his innocence, so Sam filled in the blanks. “Jensen’s pregnant isn’t he?”
Sam could see his words were getting to Jared. The chance that Jack was the father of Jensen’s child wasn’t lost to anyone, but that Jack would do this to gain access to him – to them.
“The baby might not be his.”
“Maybe not. It wouldn’t really matter, though.” Sam moved behind Jack, leant on his shoulders and patted his cheek, hard, with the flat of his palm. “What Jackie here doesn’t seem to appreciate is that he’s expendable. They get Jensen back, they don’t need him. They’ll bury him just as surely as I will.”
The low winter sun plunged deeply into Chris’ eyes, seared its way directly through to his brain. Shit, it hurt.
Sensitive fuckers, his eyes.
Squinting into the gloom beneath the seat he fished around, stretched his fingers as far as he could, cursing that he hadn’t gotten Jared to do this. That guy had arms like a gorilla’s, they were so fucking long.
He’d half expected Jared to be back out by now, either with Sam on his heals, or not, depending on how he’d taken what he found up in that room.
It was all well and good Sam claiming Jared was one of them, a fighter, loyal. But there was too much at stake to risk so much on someone who may be too soft to do some of the more unsavory elements their roles in the Network required.
The kid wasn’t violent, that much was obvious. But being a part of this life meant you couldn’t avoid it. Jared had to be able to accept it when it became necessary, and not flinch from its aftermath.
When Sarah had first introduced Sam into the group it was obvious he could be a vicious fucker, but Sarah had put him on a leash - a long one – and his proclivities had become assets. He excelled at the face to face stuff, bringing it up close, making it personal.
Unlike Chris.
Chris didn’t enjoy the violence that came with what they did, but he’d long since accepted its role in his world. He’d lost too many people, spent too long grieving, to worry about how those who’d cost him so much would feel over a little spilt blood. It was true he preferred to cause his bloodshed from a distance, munitions allowing him to keep himself removed from the casualties of his actions – but he wasn’t a coward.
Cowardice was a luxury the need for survival circumvented.
Growing up, his parents had been vocal in their opposition to some of the government’s more unpleasant deeds. Not the breeding program, no, that had been after their time, but other things. Things that had shown how corrupt and vile people with power could become when they let it go to their heads.
He hadn’t been aware of the specifics of their causes – until after.
He pushed the unpleasant memories to one side. He didn’t need to put himself on such a downer.
His fingers finally caught onto the arm of his glasses and he pulled them out, crowing in victory. “Eureka!”
The grin slipped from his face as he caught sight of the men moving, purposefully toward the building he’d parked next to. If they saw him they were unconcerned by his presence.
There were three of them, two flanking the one in the middle. The leader, the boss. The scars, the leather, the weapons in their hands, it was blatantly obvious that they weren’t military, weren’t even the law, not around here.
They wouldn’t be concerned with the existence of either Sam or Jared, but then you didn’t need to be their intended targets to get caught in the crossfire.
Fuck.
Chris kept low, pulling the semi automatic from under the dash just before he closed the truck’s door.
There was a vehicle parked opposite the hotel’s entrance. Blacked out windows and engine running. Whether it contained reinforcements or just the getaway driver, it really didn’t matter.
Sam could look after himself, but Jared?
There was no fucking fire escape, not that would carry a full grown man’s weight. If they were getting out of there any time soon, they’d be walking into a gunfight.
Chris sat on the floor, back to the truck, and reasoned out his options.
It took him less than thirty seconds to venture back into the truck and retrieve the grenades he’d been saving for a rainy day.
A/N: Been playing. A who's who for this fic can be found here. I'm open for suggestions as to who else needs to be included ...
Part 39
Title: Desperate Times (37/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
Additional Warnings For This and Upcoming Chapters for those that want them – Reading these may, in my opinion, spoil your enjoyment of the story: (Highlight to read) Extreme medical practices, acts of terrorism, violence - murder and CHARACTER DEATH (I only kill original characters.)
Jensen sat uncomfortably on the hard, wooden seat, determined not to squirm, or look away, as she stared at him.
“You weren’t like this when Josh brought Lexi home. Damn it mom, you weren’t like this when Joe brought his first boyfriend home, either. Why are you doing this?” He hated the edge of pleading that had leaked into his words, but she’d been like this for days. She’d deliberately made Jared uncomfortable and, as he’d told his brother yesterday, before he took Jared back into his bed, he wasn’t prepared to try to hide them anymore. She didn’t have to like it, she just had to accept it. Accept that he knew what he was doing.
He hated that it hurt her – but she was responsible for the ill feeling, for the tension - she had no right to hurt Jared. It was the atmosphere round here that had caused Jared to leave with the others this morning, and Jensen couldn’t bear the possibility that Jared would look for other excuses to increase the distance between them if it continued.
“Because you’re not one of your brothers. That’s why?”
Jensen frowned, “What does that even mean?” He turned to his dad, who was sitting passively at the end of the table. Staring at his wife, but not contradicting her. “Dad?”
Alan sighed before turning to look at Jensen.
Jensen could see that his dad looked tired. His health had been deteriorating in recent years and acting as a buffer for his wife’s anger had to be a strain he didn’t need.
Jensen hoped he wasn’t wrong in assuming he had an ally in his father. “You’re mom’s right, Jen.” But, maybe he was. “You’ve never been like them. Never been the type to fight for something you want for yourself, or to retaliate when someone hurt you. Turn the other cheek, that’s you. Your mom’s just worried that this thing you’ve got going with Jared is happening for the wrong reasons.”
Before Jensen could comment, tell his dad that those fears were unfounded, his mother’s harsh tones filled the room, “Don’t you dare speak for me, Alan. Just don’t do it. I know what I mean. I know what I think.”
Jensen’s head bounced between his parents. His dad looking sad and resigned, his mom looking pissed. “Then you tell me mom. Tell me why. Please.”
He saw her deflate a little as the maternal side of her responded to the tone of his voice. To the pain and confusion she must’ve seen on his face. Her voice softened, but there was still something hard and unyielding lying beneath it. “I’m not angry at you baby. Please don’t think I am.”
Jensen shook his head, he did know that, even though he still felt the need to be defensive. “You’re angry at Jared?”
“I’m angry, Jensen, because this life shouldn’t be yours. You were happy.”
Jensen held his hands out, contained the wince when he moved on the seat. Reminding her of last night’s activities really wouldn’t be appropriate right now. “I am happy. Why can’t you see that? Accept it? You’ve not given us a chance. You just jumped to conclusions and refused to see that he – Jared – makes me happy.” He needed her to believe him, “I am happy.”
Donna shook her head, her hands doing that thing with her rings that he’d seen through countless hours, days, of unrest and anxiety. “Are you? Are you really? Or are you just making do?”
Making do?
“I don’t understand you.” Jensen sighed, looked down at his stomach, at the evidence that there were things more important in his life now than had ever existed before. How could she say these things? How could she say that what was happening in his life was him ‘making do’?
“Yes you do. Do you love that boy or are you…” she took a breath before she continued, the words obviously finding obstacles on their way out of her mouth – but not enough to stop her from saying them - “sleeping with him because it’s something he wants?”
“He’s not forcing me mom. Don’t think…”
“I didn’t say he was. I’m not suggesting …” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “Look honey, I don’t doubt that you have feelings for him. I may not like it, but I accept it. He seems like a nice enough man. But the sex. Are you sleeping with him just to make him happy? Do you actually enjoy it?”
Jensen stared at his mother, incredulously. Had she really just asked that question? Did she believe he was giving Jared his body just so Jared would smile occasionally? So he could sleep better? So that he got a little additional exercise? What the hell was she implying?
Jensen fought the irrational urge to laugh. He should be feeling angry now, furious, but instead he felt embarrassed that his mother was asking him about his sex life. That his reserved, ultra religious mom, was asking him whether he liked having someone stick a cock up his ass.
Hell, it had been Joe’s job to tell him the facts of life because neither of his parents could bring themselves to do it. This was not a conversation he wanted to get into, but, since she wanted an answer, he’d give her one.
“So you’re asking me what? Whether I get hard? Whether I come when I’m having sex with my boyfriend?” That was the very first time he’d referred to Jared as his boyfriend, he liked it, even if he had to fight to ignore his mother’s blush and his father’s sharp intake of breath. “Yes mom. The answer to both those questions is yes, I do. So can we please change the subject now?”
Jensen knew he was embarrassed, flushed, but he didn’t know, couldn’t tell, whether his face was any redder than those of his parents who looked at each other briefly before turning away.
His father stared at the plate in front of him, ate a little more, not because he wanted it but because it was a distraction.
His mother stood stiffly, back to him. Occasionally stirring the oatmeal that she’d abandoned to the mercy of the stove. Oatmeal that he knew he was going to eat, even if it was burned, just to please her.
Nothing more was said until his mother placed his breakfast in front of him, contents of the bowl steaming, even as he poured sugar onto it to make it more palatable.
He glanced wistfully at his dad’s plate, at the bacon, the eggs, but wouldn’t lift his eyes to his dad. Couldn’t do it. He picked up the spoon again and, after stirring the sugar in, began to eat. Each spoonful an effort to swallow round the lump that happily took up residence inside his chest.
It shouldn’t be so hard to be in the company of people he loved so damned much.
He just wanted to be allowed to be happy.
“Thanks mom.” She didn’t answer, but he felt her hand on the back of his head as she moved behind him, felt the hint of a kiss as her lips met his hair.
“You’re welcome, baby.” Her words were clipped, almost whispered, and Jensen knew that if he dared to look her way there’d be tears.
He knew it wasn’t over, that she still had problems with his relationship with Jared, and he didn’t know how he could convince her that things weren’t the way she feared. But he had hope, at least for today, that they’d called a truce.
Especially as he was planning on going over to have a little chat with Jeff soon as he could force enough of the oatmeal down to appease his mom’s desire to take care of him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jared looked nervous, stood outside the door, casting glances over his shoulder as if he was worried someone was going to jump him. Which, to be honest, in this neighborhood, in this building, wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility.
Through the partially open door Sam could see that the junkie had made it a few feet further along the hallway. From down the hall came the unmistakable sounds of violence: curses and grunts and bitten off screams as flesh impacted with flesh. There were screams of another kind coming from the room opposite. If the sounds were honest then someone was a great fuck, if not then the screamer was simply a great actor.
A particularly loud scream and even the gloom of the hallway couldn’t conceal Jared’s blush. Sam marveled a little at that ‘cause, fuck, he and Jen made more noise than that on a bad day.
Jared finally found his voice, forced out the words in between squeals and wails. “Chris wanted me to tell you, you got ten minutes before we move on.”
Sam silently cursed. If this was some dumbass idea to test Jared’s loyalty, to see if the boy would help or turn tail and run, it was ill judged.
He could see agitation on Jared’s face. Anxiety and about a million and one questions.
When Jack audibly groaned behind him he didn’t miss Jared’s frown and was almost tempted to close the door in the kid’s face. Keep him out of it.
Almost.
“Was that Jack?”
Sam didn’t answer, “Go back down and tell Chris I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Sam, is Jack with you? What the hell is going on?” Jared placed his hand on the door, but didn’t put any weight behind it. Sam could still close the door on him.
Jack grew louder, more determined to be heard, and Sam made a snap decision that he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t regret. He stepped back, let Jared in.
He watched as the young man froze, hand outstretched, but not touching the man who stared, bound and gagged, at him. Eyes, pleading for help.
“Why?” Jared didn’t turn, but Sam didn’t mistake the anger he heard in his voice. Didn’t miss the fear it was laced with.
Sam leant against the wall. He didn’t need Jared to be worried that he’d attack him, he needed to look unthreatening. Or at least less threatening, given that Jared had seen enough to know that Sam had blood on his hands. “You were so worried you may have been the cause of what happened to Sarah. So concerned that I might’ve blamed you for what happened to her. Once you knew it wasn’t you, did you even think about who had betrayed us?”
Sam watched as Jared’s confusion was replaced by realization. His eyes widened as he turned to Jack, stared at him before looking back to Sam. The blood had drained from his face, but the anger hadn’t abandoned him. “How do you know?”
“You think Sarah was the only person the Network had working at the Center?” Sam pointed towards the restrained man, stepped away from the wall as he did so. “He turned us in – it was only luck that more of us weren’t killed. Who knows? If Center security had actually been competent they may’ve been able to take us all.”
“But, why would he?”
“Because they promised him that kid he was always talking about. He thought it was his, believed it when they fed him the lie.”
Jack’s protests were muffled, his attention fixed on Jared. Sam moved forward, fast enough for Jack to flinch as he pulled out the gag. Jared needed to hear the words from Jack’s own mouth.
“Jared, I didn’t …”
Sam grabbed a hold of Jack’s purpling jaw, squeezing his mouth into an obscene pout. “Tell him. Tell him how you’re still fucking us over. How you’ve offered to give them Jensen and Trey.”
“Jensen?” Jared whirled towards the man in the chair, “Why?”
Jack didn’t speak, not even to plead his innocence, so Sam filled in the blanks. “Jensen’s pregnant isn’t he?”
Sam could see his words were getting to Jared. The chance that Jack was the father of Jensen’s child wasn’t lost to anyone, but that Jack would do this to gain access to him – to them.
“The baby might not be his.”
“Maybe not. It wouldn’t really matter, though.” Sam moved behind Jack, leant on his shoulders and patted his cheek, hard, with the flat of his palm. “What Jackie here doesn’t seem to appreciate is that he’s expendable. They get Jensen back, they don’t need him. They’ll bury him just as surely as I will.”
The low winter sun plunged deeply into Chris’ eyes, seared its way directly through to his brain. Shit, it hurt.
Sensitive fuckers, his eyes.
Squinting into the gloom beneath the seat he fished around, stretched his fingers as far as he could, cursing that he hadn’t gotten Jared to do this. That guy had arms like a gorilla’s, they were so fucking long.
He’d half expected Jared to be back out by now, either with Sam on his heals, or not, depending on how he’d taken what he found up in that room.
It was all well and good Sam claiming Jared was one of them, a fighter, loyal. But there was too much at stake to risk so much on someone who may be too soft to do some of the more unsavory elements their roles in the Network required.
The kid wasn’t violent, that much was obvious. But being a part of this life meant you couldn’t avoid it. Jared had to be able to accept it when it became necessary, and not flinch from its aftermath.
When Sarah had first introduced Sam into the group it was obvious he could be a vicious fucker, but Sarah had put him on a leash - a long one – and his proclivities had become assets. He excelled at the face to face stuff, bringing it up close, making it personal.
Unlike Chris.
Chris didn’t enjoy the violence that came with what they did, but he’d long since accepted its role in his world. He’d lost too many people, spent too long grieving, to worry about how those who’d cost him so much would feel over a little spilt blood. It was true he preferred to cause his bloodshed from a distance, munitions allowing him to keep himself removed from the casualties of his actions – but he wasn’t a coward.
Cowardice was a luxury the need for survival circumvented.
Growing up, his parents had been vocal in their opposition to some of the government’s more unpleasant deeds. Not the breeding program, no, that had been after their time, but other things. Things that had shown how corrupt and vile people with power could become when they let it go to their heads.
He hadn’t been aware of the specifics of their causes – until after.
He pushed the unpleasant memories to one side. He didn’t need to put himself on such a downer.
His fingers finally caught onto the arm of his glasses and he pulled them out, crowing in victory. “Eureka!”
The grin slipped from his face as he caught sight of the men moving, purposefully toward the building he’d parked next to. If they saw him they were unconcerned by his presence.
There were three of them, two flanking the one in the middle. The leader, the boss. The scars, the leather, the weapons in their hands, it was blatantly obvious that they weren’t military, weren’t even the law, not around here.
They wouldn’t be concerned with the existence of either Sam or Jared, but then you didn’t need to be their intended targets to get caught in the crossfire.
Fuck.
Chris kept low, pulling the semi automatic from under the dash just before he closed the truck’s door.
There was a vehicle parked opposite the hotel’s entrance. Blacked out windows and engine running. Whether it contained reinforcements or just the getaway driver, it really didn’t matter.
Sam could look after himself, but Jared?
There was no fucking fire escape, not that would carry a full grown man’s weight. If they were getting out of there any time soon, they’d be walking into a gunfight.
Chris sat on the floor, back to the truck, and reasoned out his options.
It took him less than thirty seconds to venture back into the truck and retrieve the grenades he’d been saving for a rainy day.
A/N: Been playing. A who's who for this fic can be found here. I'm open for suggestions as to who else needs to be included ...
Part 39
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 02:28 am (UTC)BTw, Joe is gay?
And I can't wait to see what Jared's reaction to Jack would be like now that he knows Jack was planning on giving Jensen to the Center.