Desperate Measures ~ 6/?

[hemrage]

Masterpost for the verse: here.

Chapter 5


Chapter 6

Jared had never set foot in a morgue before, ever. It wasn’t an experience he was looking to repeat anytime soon.

He’d followed Sam’s lead, going along with the claim that they were looking for his brother. A man who’d been missing for the better part of three weeks and who, apparently, fitted the description of the John Doe they had on ice.

With his heart in his mouth, his palms sweating and with nausea threatening to reintroduce him to his last hurried meal, Jared didn’t need to fake the worry or the fear that he’d recognize the face under the sheet. Didn’t have to pretend he was being bullied and cajoled by dread as he begged his harried heart to keep beating. But he did have to school his features and make believe the dead man was a stranger when it turned out he did know the man on the slab.

Sitting in the bar, third drink in hand, he stared at Sam. “I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry he’s dead.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “I don’t expect you to. Can’t say I’m sorry myself.” Jared read into Sam’s posture, his tone, that the man was sorry. Not that death had found the person they’d just seen, but that Sam hadn’t been the one to introduce them.

Jared rubbed his hand across his forehead, the headache that had begun with the first whiff of formaldehyde blossoming in the smoky bar. “What I don’t get is,” he sighed, “if he’s not had Jen all this time, where is he?”

Sam took a drink before he answered. His voice measured as he retold intelligence he’d been able to gather over the last ten hours. “Jack was found two weeks ago. He’d been dead a couple of days already by then.”

He did the math in his head. Jack had been dead for sixteen, maybe seventeen days, and Jensen had been missing for damn near four weeks. “He died in the crash?”

Sam turned the glass in front of him, tilting it to let the dark liquid flow to one side. “That’s just it, they’re not sure. There was a lot of blood in the vehicle, most, but not all of it, was Jack’s. They’re thinking he may have still been alive for a little while after the car went off the road, but they can’t even work out why it crashed. Can’t be certain all the broken bones and opened veins are due to the way the vehicle rolled and crumpled round him.”

“Meaning?”

“They’ve not ruled out homicide. He’d already be six feet under if they’d been sure it was something as simple as a car accident. But Jay, you’ve seen how small towns operate these days. They’ve not even sent DNA to the Feds. Hell, there’d be bells and whistles blowing round here if they knew who he was, who he’d been travelling with. Local law enforcement don’t have the resources or the will. Since he’s not one of their own they’ll probably have him under the ground within a week or two regardless of what they find out. Case will be closed.”

Case closed.

Jensen would be safe from any ramifications with the law and Jared was absurdly grateful for the fragmentation occurring in the union of the states. For the increasing lack of faith in central government and the way communities within the states bordering Canada had become more insulated. How, in their isolation, they became more focused on their own local issues – ignoring the federal and national. It should be a tragedy – the devolution of a country – but Jared couldn’t see it as one, not the way the country had treated him and the people he cared about.

Jared couldn’t imagine Jensen, his Jensen, ever being violent under normal circumstances but, with what Jack had done, with what he might have done since, it was more than possible Jensen had been left with no alternative.

If Jensen had killed Jack, Jared couldn’t bring himself to care. Not if there were no repercussions. But it still didn’t answer the question of why Jensen was still missing.

“You think Jen’s hurt, too?”

Sam didn’t cushion his answer. “Probably. Like I said, it wasn’t just Jack’s blood.”

Jared stared at the table and took a deep breath, not wanting to voice the next idea that came into his head in case thought gave it reality. “You think he… you think he could be dead?”

Sam drained his glass and shook his head. “Bad news travels fast, Jay. If he was dead we’d know about it, just like if he’d been picked up. Jack’s is the only unidentified body they’ve had in these parts since before Jen went missing. He’s not dead.”

Jared started picking at the label on his bottle, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes. There were a lot of places a body could lie undiscovered in regions as sparsely populated as this one. “Then why didn’t he come home?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

There was a question in Sam’s voice, but not an accusation. Jared realized that Sam honestly believed Jensen was alive. Honestly believed there was something else keeping Jensen from finding his way home. “Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

Jared was unprepared for the steel in Sam’s eyes, or the hand that clenched his tightly from across the table. “I’d shut the fuck up if you’re going to talk like that. He loves you, you stupid insecure bastard.” He lowered his voice when he realized others in the bar were looking in their direction, released Jared’s hand and sat backing his seat. “And even if he didn’t, even if he was sick of the sight of your ugly face, do you really believe he’d abandon the kids? Or his mom?”

Jared shook his head. He hated how needy he felt, how much he needed Sam to be the voice of reason. “I just … this is hard Sam, you know?”

“I know. We just aren’t going to give up though, right Jay? Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he’s working on coming home.”

Jared couldn’t say he believed him no matter how much he wanted to. He finished the drink in front of him and waited, silently, until he was served another. “We talked about getting married. Did he tell you?”

“No.”

Jared wasn’t surprised Jensen hadn’t said anything, not with the way that series of conversations had ended. “He didn’t want to.”

Sam didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Why not?”

“Because he wanted to do it right. To have my family there with his. For it to be Jensen marrying Jared, not Ross marrying Tristan. Wouldn’t do it if it was just another lie. If it wasn’t real.”

Sam frowned. “I can see where he’s coming from, can’t you?”

He’d told Jensen it shouldn’t matter, that it would be real to them and that Jensen shouldn’t care about anyone else, but maybe he should’ve put more thought into it before he got down on one knee. “Yes. But…”

“But nothing. You know how he feels about Ross Johnson as much as I do.” Sam paused, frowned and bit his lip. “There might be a way we could work something out though. A way you could do it the way he’d want.”

“You think we could really do it?”

“I think you should really try. The only thing I have ever been truly proud of, never regretted, not even for a second, was marrying Sarah. Well, until her namesake came along at any rate.”

He watched the wistful smile on Sam’s face disappear as darker memories encroached, drowning the pleasant ones. “It would be great if we could. Doesn’t change the fact he said no when I asked him, though.”

Jared knew he was wallowing in self pity, knew from the looks Sam threw him, as he downed one drink after another, that the older man wouldn’t stand for any more crap, that he was being given leeway he wouldn’t be given again.

Sam half dragged and half carried him into a motel room that night, throwing him on a bed to marinate in his own juices. Just before he passed out, curled up with a pillow held close to his chest, alcohol clouding his senses and stealing his sense, he was able to pretend the dreams of green eyes and full lips were real and, for the first time in almost a month, he allowed himself to cry.

---

He was being pathetic.

Ross stared at Mike through the window and tried not to feel hurt as the other man caught his eye and turned his back.

It wasn’t just curiosity. He needed to know who Mike was talking to. Needed to know why Mike was so obliging and patient. It couldn’t be natural when the man was getting nothing out of it.

But then, maybe he thought he would get something for his generosity.

Ross hadn’t missed the way Mike looked at him. It was the same way he’d noticed other men look, but, just like with them, Ross wasn’t interested. Oh, he liked Mike well enough, but there was a difference between liking someone and being attracted to them and when he thought about the type of man he’d be attracted to he didn’t see a shorter man with blue eyes, he envisioned a taller one with warm hazel ones.

He shook himself out of the reverie. His dreams, on the nights they kept the nightmares at bay, occasionally turned to the erotic. All he could remember when he woke up panting and hard was hazel eyes and large hands. Fucking wonderful large hands which held him down, held him up, stroked him and rested low on his belly. He could feel arousal approaching with the memory of his dream lover and he pushed it away. There was a time and a place and this was neither.

After he regained control of his breathing he walked out into the parking lot, pulling the door closed behind him. He approached his travelling companion as he pocketed the phone and leant against the car. “Hungry?”

Mike nodded. “Where’d you want to go?”

Ross couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped. In the few days they’d been in town they’d only discovered one place they could both agree on. The grin on Mike’s face as he climbed into the car meant he knew where they were headed. “What would you have said if I’d wanted to go to that steak house we went to yesterday?”

“I’d have said go on your own.”

“Yeah, right.” That wasn’t going to happen. Mike had developed an aversion to him going anywhere on his own. He’d become a shadow, but for some reason it made Ross feel safe rather than smothered. It was nice having someone looking out for him, even if it did smack a little of paranoia.

His change in mood probably had something to do with the men in suits who’d turned up yesterday. Mike had left the motel room when they’d knocked, leaving Ross still half asleep and struggling out of bed. The three men had spoken for only a brief time and, by the time Ross had made it to the door they were far enough away that their words couldn’t be overheard.

Whatever Mike had said had been enough for them to leave, but he’d been distracted when he got back and uncharacteristically abrupt when he was asked who they were and what they wanted.

Ross figured that Mike’s dear uncle had probably lost what little patience he had left and was sending blood hounds out to deliver the messages personally since the ones being passed over the phone were being ignored.

“Vegetarian stew again then?”

Mike laughed, “Vegetables are good for you.”

“So you say. I have it on good authority that candy and cake are better.”

“Really? Who told you that?”

“No idea, but whoever he was, he was a genius.”



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Comments

[fufaraw]

So good to see an update. Can't wait to see where this goes.


Ah, haha! I notice that so far nobody has given Jack even an RIP. Poor old Jack. That putz.