Desperate Times ~ 45
Jan. 18th, 2009 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hemrageChapter 44 here.
Title: Desperate Times (45/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
A/N: Cast of this story available here.
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.) Oh, and I believe in happy endings!
Trey didn’t make any secret of the fact that he had wanted to leave immediately. He had no reason to stay here now, but, two weeks after the death of his son he was still living a half life in the fucking camp in the middle of nowhere that doubled as his prison.
Whenever someone arrived in camp they were quick to tell him that they were just bringing supplies, checking if anything was needed. They were not, in their words, ‘providing a bus service’. It didn’t stop him asking though – every single time.
Subconsciously, he brought his hand up to rest on his stomach. It wasn’t flat yet, but he’d be able to work on that soon. The stitches were, at last, out, and though the wound was still red and tender he couldn’t help looking at the ugly raised flesh whenever the chance arose.
It proved that the last twelve months hadn’t just been a nightmare. Hadn’t been some figment of a fevered imagination. The scar was the only thing he had to show for what he had endured.
He tried to tell himself he didn’t care.
What would he have done with a baby? He wasn’t parent … fuck, mother material. ‘Cause that’s what he would’ve been. The kid’s mother. The person responsible for bringing him into the world, for caring and nurturing… What the hell did he know about all that shit?
Absolutely nothing.
And if he was the mom, well, the father left even more to be desired.
He thought about the men, the ones that could have sired his child, and wondered whether he’d have had blue eyes like Tim, a nose like Frank, dimples like Neil…
He’d never know, he hadn’t even seen him. Donna said … Donna said he’d had a shock of black hair on his head and the cutest little nose …
He didn’t want to feel the burn behind his eyes, the lump in his throat.
He didn’t care.
He didn’t.
Couldn’t.
What the hell would caring do anyway? What good would it do since his baby was gone?
He walked aimlessly, not understanding how he’d managed to stumble across it: the small unmarked patch of ground. A little mound, insignificant if you didn’t know any better.
They’d chosen a beautiful spot to lay him to rest. You couldn’t see the cabins from here, couldn’t see the lake. A nowhere place in the middle of nowhere and he wouldn’t have been able to find it if he’d been looking.
Not that he would’ve ever looked.
As he knelt he ignored the pull and complaints of the large ‘T shaped’ wound on his abdomen. He ignored how the ground was cold when he reached out to touch what would never be his.
He didn’t care.
The tears came anyway.
Jensen used the increasingly frequent excuse for bathroom breaks to check to see whether the bleeding had stopped – it hadn’t – but there was still no pain and the babies were still as active as ever. Logic, at least the version he chose to believe, told him it couldn’t be too serious.
If it wasn’t serious why the hell hadn’t he mentioned it to anyone? He ignored the voice that sounded a lot like Jared.
The dizziness was entirely unrelated. The feelings of detachment, floating, of tilting uncomfortably, had been around for far longer than the few days he’d been hiding this latest development from everyone.
He washed his hands, his face, and stared into the mirror. Who are you? And what have you done with Jensen Ackles?
He shook his head, it wasn’t as if he expected an answer.
He heard his mother as soon as he opened the bathroom door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Jensen frowned and walked towards the bedroom. Jared had the four sides of one crib leaning up against the wall while another had been assembled and was sitting at the foot of the bed.
“I’m getting ready for my children to be born Donna, I thought that was obvious.”
Donna’s laugh was cruel. Jensen froze, he’d never heard it before. “Your children. Yours? Really? They’re Jensen’s, Jared. No one knows if they’re yours.”
Jared kept his voice calm, quiet. He obviously had no intention of letting the argument escalate, not if he could avoid it. “The fact that they’re Jensen’s is enough for me.”
Donna turned her back, her hiss instead of shout, the only concession to the fact that there were other people in the cabin. “If you care so much then what the hell are you doing putting them up?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s bad luck, Jared. Or are you a complete idiot?”
“Look, Donna. Even if it was your business, which it isn’t, all I am doing is making sure these fit.” He indicated the cribs, the space, while Donna rounded on him.
“Not my business? Not your business. These children probably have nothing to do with you, but they are most definitely my grandchildren.”
Jensen closed his eyes, the impression of the room swaying and the floor coming up to greet him, just an illusion. He allowed the doorframe to take his weight.
Jared noticed him first, the smile, warm and tinged with a generous helping of relief.
His mom turned an interesting shade of pink when she turned and saw what had caught Jared’s attention.
“Is there a problem?” Jensen tried to not let the constant fatigue creep into his voice as he pushed himself upright.
Jared looked at Donna before smiling once again in Jensen’s direction. “No, not really. Your mom’s just a bit superstitious, that’s all.”
Jensen didn’t miss the look his mother shot toward Jared, didn’t miss Jared’s valiant attempt to ignore it.
Jared walked up to him, put an arm round him and drew Jensen’s body close. Jensen sagged momentarily in his boyfriend’s arms, grateful for the support. He pulled back and kissed him briefly before turning to the uncomfortable witness of his display of affection. “Mom, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” The switch in demeanor was remarkable. She didn’t look at him as she left the room.
Jared looked puzzled but Jensen just dragged his mouth closer, kissed him again. “Stay here. Finish what you were doing. I think I need to have a chat with my mom.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Jensen smiled. “This sticking up for each other goes both ways you know? You stay here. See if you can work out a way for them to fit.”
Jared nodded and Jensen reluctantly walked away, back out into the living room where he could see his mom placing the kettle onto the stove. She was obviously where he inherited his desire to avoid confrontation from. Funny, really, since she was so good at confronting others. “Would you like a hot chocolate baby?”
“Sure mom. Whatever.” Jensen didn’t feel like it but there was no point in starting a row before he was sure about what he wanted to say. He just had to find the right words. Words that wouldn’t make her defensive, that wouldn’t make her think that he didn’t love her, that he wasn’t grateful for her presence. He was sure there were some, but as he hadn’t found them so far he had his doubts that they’d come to him anytime soon. “Where is everyone anyway?”
“Your dad’s with Jeffrey.”
“Fishing again?”
“When are they not? They might even catch something today. Your brother is trying to contact Sam, find out more about what’s going on with Joshua.”
So Joseph was at the clinic. It was no wonder Jensen hadn’t seen him, not when he was valiantly trying to avoid the place. Though, maybe, while Jeff was otherwise engaged the clinic would be a safe enough spot to think. If Sam was available maybe he could chat to him too. Sam gave the best advice …
Donna set two mugs of chocolate on the table and Jensen sat down, holding onto it, grateful to get the weight off his legs even as his back protested against his perch on the hard wooden seat.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
Jensen looked across at the woman sat opposite him as he took a sip of the cocoa. He waited for her to continue. Maybe he wouldn’t need to find the words if she discovered them for herself.
“You want me to leave Jared alone.”
Jensen didn’t confirm or deny. He sat back and looked at her as she flushed and turned away.
“I don’t know how to do that. I see him and I think about how you were hurt. How you were taken from me and hurt. I can’t get past that. You are not the same person you used to be and I hate. I hate so much.”
“Mom…”
“Don’t Jensen, I know. Your father keeps telling me and I know.”
“What about the babies? Your grandson, your granddaughter. Are you going to hate them because they remind you of what happened to me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then leave Jared alone mom, please.”
He watched her turn away, get ready to rise, leave him to his cocoa with nothing resolved. His next words stopped her in her tracks. “Do you love me mom?”
Donna looked shocked when she turned his way, as she slumped back into her seat. “How can you doubt it? How…”
“You’ve got to understand that I love him. When you make him hurt, make him unhappy, you hurt me. I’m not exaggerating mom when I say I’ve really had enough of hurting.”
Trey didn’t know how long he’d been at the grave, but something had settled inside him when he left.
He wandered the long way back to the cabin. Even though it was getting dark and he’d not brought a torch the moonlight was already bouncing light off the snow and providing more than enough illumination to get home.
He saw Jensen before Jensen saw him.
It wasn’t that Jensen had been avoiding him lately, but Trey could empathise with the fatigue that drained him. And how much worse would it be for someone expecting two babies?
Jensen looked up from the porch bench and stood, a genuine smile on his face at seeing Trey. “You okay?”
Trey smiled, aware that his eyes had to be red and puffy from all the crying he’d not been doing, with not caring and all. “I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Trey saw Jensen sway, have to right himself on the porch rail. He stepped forward, helped him back to the seat. “I think I should be asking you how you are.”
“Just tired. You know how it is.”
Trey knew, oh God did he know. “What are you doing out here?”
“I needed some space. I left my mom with something to think about and I figured she needed some too.”
Trey sat next to Jensen on the bench and looked out across the lake. “I went to see him.”
Jensen didn’t ask who he’d been to see, which Trey was grateful for. As Jensen reached for his hand he welcomed the comfort that came with it. “Did you say goodbye?”
Trey nodded, “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Trey didn’t miss the gasp and turned, worried, to the one man who would, if he let him, be the best friend he’d ever had. “You sure you’re okay?”
Jensen grinned, took Trey’s hand and laid it flat across his stomach. Trey could feel it – them. He returned Jensen’s grin and realized the injustice in the fact that he’d never appreciated this from Jensen’s side. The confirmation of life inside.
Injustice!
He kept his smile even though any joy in the situation had deserted him. Where was the justice in Jensen having two babies when he didn’t even have one?
Next
Title: Desperate Times (45/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
A/N: Cast of this story available here.
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.) Oh, and I believe in happy endings!
Trey didn’t make any secret of the fact that he had wanted to leave immediately. He had no reason to stay here now, but, two weeks after the death of his son he was still living a half life in the fucking camp in the middle of nowhere that doubled as his prison.
Whenever someone arrived in camp they were quick to tell him that they were just bringing supplies, checking if anything was needed. They were not, in their words, ‘providing a bus service’. It didn’t stop him asking though – every single time.
Subconsciously, he brought his hand up to rest on his stomach. It wasn’t flat yet, but he’d be able to work on that soon. The stitches were, at last, out, and though the wound was still red and tender he couldn’t help looking at the ugly raised flesh whenever the chance arose.
It proved that the last twelve months hadn’t just been a nightmare. Hadn’t been some figment of a fevered imagination. The scar was the only thing he had to show for what he had endured.
He tried to tell himself he didn’t care.
What would he have done with a baby? He wasn’t parent … fuck, mother material. ‘Cause that’s what he would’ve been. The kid’s mother. The person responsible for bringing him into the world, for caring and nurturing… What the hell did he know about all that shit?
Absolutely nothing.
And if he was the mom, well, the father left even more to be desired.
He thought about the men, the ones that could have sired his child, and wondered whether he’d have had blue eyes like Tim, a nose like Frank, dimples like Neil…
He’d never know, he hadn’t even seen him. Donna said … Donna said he’d had a shock of black hair on his head and the cutest little nose …
He didn’t want to feel the burn behind his eyes, the lump in his throat.
He didn’t care.
He didn’t.
Couldn’t.
What the hell would caring do anyway? What good would it do since his baby was gone?
He walked aimlessly, not understanding how he’d managed to stumble across it: the small unmarked patch of ground. A little mound, insignificant if you didn’t know any better.
They’d chosen a beautiful spot to lay him to rest. You couldn’t see the cabins from here, couldn’t see the lake. A nowhere place in the middle of nowhere and he wouldn’t have been able to find it if he’d been looking.
Not that he would’ve ever looked.
As he knelt he ignored the pull and complaints of the large ‘T shaped’ wound on his abdomen. He ignored how the ground was cold when he reached out to touch what would never be his.
He didn’t care.
The tears came anyway.
Jensen used the increasingly frequent excuse for bathroom breaks to check to see whether the bleeding had stopped – it hadn’t – but there was still no pain and the babies were still as active as ever. Logic, at least the version he chose to believe, told him it couldn’t be too serious.
If it wasn’t serious why the hell hadn’t he mentioned it to anyone? He ignored the voice that sounded a lot like Jared.
The dizziness was entirely unrelated. The feelings of detachment, floating, of tilting uncomfortably, had been around for far longer than the few days he’d been hiding this latest development from everyone.
He washed his hands, his face, and stared into the mirror. Who are you? And what have you done with Jensen Ackles?
He shook his head, it wasn’t as if he expected an answer.
He heard his mother as soon as he opened the bathroom door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Jensen frowned and walked towards the bedroom. Jared had the four sides of one crib leaning up against the wall while another had been assembled and was sitting at the foot of the bed.
“I’m getting ready for my children to be born Donna, I thought that was obvious.”
Donna’s laugh was cruel. Jensen froze, he’d never heard it before. “Your children. Yours? Really? They’re Jensen’s, Jared. No one knows if they’re yours.”
Jared kept his voice calm, quiet. He obviously had no intention of letting the argument escalate, not if he could avoid it. “The fact that they’re Jensen’s is enough for me.”
Donna turned her back, her hiss instead of shout, the only concession to the fact that there were other people in the cabin. “If you care so much then what the hell are you doing putting them up?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s bad luck, Jared. Or are you a complete idiot?”
“Look, Donna. Even if it was your business, which it isn’t, all I am doing is making sure these fit.” He indicated the cribs, the space, while Donna rounded on him.
“Not my business? Not your business. These children probably have nothing to do with you, but they are most definitely my grandchildren.”
Jensen closed his eyes, the impression of the room swaying and the floor coming up to greet him, just an illusion. He allowed the doorframe to take his weight.
Jared noticed him first, the smile, warm and tinged with a generous helping of relief.
His mom turned an interesting shade of pink when she turned and saw what had caught Jared’s attention.
“Is there a problem?” Jensen tried to not let the constant fatigue creep into his voice as he pushed himself upright.
Jared looked at Donna before smiling once again in Jensen’s direction. “No, not really. Your mom’s just a bit superstitious, that’s all.”
Jensen didn’t miss the look his mother shot toward Jared, didn’t miss Jared’s valiant attempt to ignore it.
Jared walked up to him, put an arm round him and drew Jensen’s body close. Jensen sagged momentarily in his boyfriend’s arms, grateful for the support. He pulled back and kissed him briefly before turning to the uncomfortable witness of his display of affection. “Mom, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” The switch in demeanor was remarkable. She didn’t look at him as she left the room.
Jared looked puzzled but Jensen just dragged his mouth closer, kissed him again. “Stay here. Finish what you were doing. I think I need to have a chat with my mom.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Jensen smiled. “This sticking up for each other goes both ways you know? You stay here. See if you can work out a way for them to fit.”
Jared nodded and Jensen reluctantly walked away, back out into the living room where he could see his mom placing the kettle onto the stove. She was obviously where he inherited his desire to avoid confrontation from. Funny, really, since she was so good at confronting others. “Would you like a hot chocolate baby?”
“Sure mom. Whatever.” Jensen didn’t feel like it but there was no point in starting a row before he was sure about what he wanted to say. He just had to find the right words. Words that wouldn’t make her defensive, that wouldn’t make her think that he didn’t love her, that he wasn’t grateful for her presence. He was sure there were some, but as he hadn’t found them so far he had his doubts that they’d come to him anytime soon. “Where is everyone anyway?”
“Your dad’s with Jeffrey.”
“Fishing again?”
“When are they not? They might even catch something today. Your brother is trying to contact Sam, find out more about what’s going on with Joshua.”
So Joseph was at the clinic. It was no wonder Jensen hadn’t seen him, not when he was valiantly trying to avoid the place. Though, maybe, while Jeff was otherwise engaged the clinic would be a safe enough spot to think. If Sam was available maybe he could chat to him too. Sam gave the best advice …
Donna set two mugs of chocolate on the table and Jensen sat down, holding onto it, grateful to get the weight off his legs even as his back protested against his perch on the hard wooden seat.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
Jensen looked across at the woman sat opposite him as he took a sip of the cocoa. He waited for her to continue. Maybe he wouldn’t need to find the words if she discovered them for herself.
“You want me to leave Jared alone.”
Jensen didn’t confirm or deny. He sat back and looked at her as she flushed and turned away.
“I don’t know how to do that. I see him and I think about how you were hurt. How you were taken from me and hurt. I can’t get past that. You are not the same person you used to be and I hate. I hate so much.”
“Mom…”
“Don’t Jensen, I know. Your father keeps telling me and I know.”
“What about the babies? Your grandson, your granddaughter. Are you going to hate them because they remind you of what happened to me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then leave Jared alone mom, please.”
He watched her turn away, get ready to rise, leave him to his cocoa with nothing resolved. His next words stopped her in her tracks. “Do you love me mom?”
Donna looked shocked when she turned his way, as she slumped back into her seat. “How can you doubt it? How…”
“You’ve got to understand that I love him. When you make him hurt, make him unhappy, you hurt me. I’m not exaggerating mom when I say I’ve really had enough of hurting.”
Trey didn’t know how long he’d been at the grave, but something had settled inside him when he left.
He wandered the long way back to the cabin. Even though it was getting dark and he’d not brought a torch the moonlight was already bouncing light off the snow and providing more than enough illumination to get home.
He saw Jensen before Jensen saw him.
It wasn’t that Jensen had been avoiding him lately, but Trey could empathise with the fatigue that drained him. And how much worse would it be for someone expecting two babies?
Jensen looked up from the porch bench and stood, a genuine smile on his face at seeing Trey. “You okay?”
Trey smiled, aware that his eyes had to be red and puffy from all the crying he’d not been doing, with not caring and all. “I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Trey saw Jensen sway, have to right himself on the porch rail. He stepped forward, helped him back to the seat. “I think I should be asking you how you are.”
“Just tired. You know how it is.”
Trey knew, oh God did he know. “What are you doing out here?”
“I needed some space. I left my mom with something to think about and I figured she needed some too.”
Trey sat next to Jensen on the bench and looked out across the lake. “I went to see him.”
Jensen didn’t ask who he’d been to see, which Trey was grateful for. As Jensen reached for his hand he welcomed the comfort that came with it. “Did you say goodbye?”
Trey nodded, “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Trey didn’t miss the gasp and turned, worried, to the one man who would, if he let him, be the best friend he’d ever had. “You sure you’re okay?”
Jensen grinned, took Trey’s hand and laid it flat across his stomach. Trey could feel it – them. He returned Jensen’s grin and realized the injustice in the fact that he’d never appreciated this from Jensen’s side. The confirmation of life inside.
Injustice!
He kept his smile even though any joy in the situation had deserted him. Where was the justice in Jensen having two babies when he didn’t even have one?
Next
