hemrage

RETURN TO PART THREE

Jeff stared at his pants, at the dark stains that were drying and making them stick to his legs. They'd be painful as hell when he pulled them off. Even though he had no experience of doing it he was sure it'd feel like getting them waxed.

He'd have bald patches on his legs.

He’d look ridiculous and Jensen would … Jensen would laugh and poke fun and … Jensen would …

Maybe he should try that? He frowned, considering. There was something fundamentally ridiculous about the idea and he couldn’t work out what it was. What was wrong?

He could get his legs waxed and Jensen… Jensen could sit and watch and laugh at the faces he would no doubt make because he was certain men were not meant to do that kind of thing. Jensen was… Jensen was lucky. He was lucky. The lack of hair on his body meant he’d never be subjected to sadistic beauticians and …

Jensen was lucky…

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog.

He was sure he’d seen a sitcom once where a woman insisted her big, strong husband get his legs waxed after she'd gone through labor just so that he could experience a little pain of his very own. Nothing compared to hers of course, just a token gesture.

A token gesture? Yeah. That's all it would be. Giving birth was painful. Fact of life, but the payoff was meant to be worth it, right?

Worth it.

It was all worth it.

He plucked at the material of his pants. Stains making the cloth arrange itself into sticky folds that were beginning to harden. They were ruined and it probably meant the suit might as well be binned. It was a shame really, because Jensen really liked him in this suit. Liked him out of it too, but that was a totally different story.

Maybe they could go suit shopping together. They’d need one. Both of them, for the…

Where was Jensen?

The fog started clearing and panic descended. His heart racing, his skin cold and clammy even though he was sure he could feel the heat from the strip lights above.

He heard the hum of the lights, the slide of the doors, the distant murmur of voices and the beeps of machines.

Machines?

Jensen?

He stared at his pants.

At the blood!

Jensen's blood.

The baby's blood.

Everything flooded back, vivid images of things he didn’t want to see playing in front of his eyes, but closing them was no escape.

"Jeff?"

Looking up he saw Sam, Lena and Chris rushing through the doors and he felt the overwhelming urge to cry. To scream. But he had to rein it in. This was not the time. Not the place. He only had a vague recollection of calling Sam when he’d arrived at the hospital. Told her to tell whoever needed to be told. He hadn’t been capable of more than that.

Chris held back, staring at Jeff, at the gruesome sight he must be, before shaking himself. Jeff didn't have the inclination to spare Chris' feelings. Couldn’t see why the fuck he’d ever be tempted to bother.

For just a moment he forgot the reason for them being there. The reason for him being there.

Sam grabbed him, pushed clothes at him. "Get cleaned up. I've called Jensen's mom. You are not going to be looking like that when she gets here."

Jeff didn't argue. He let himself be pushed towards the room a passing nurse pointed out and gratefully let the door close on the outside world, locking it out for just a minute.

He felt sick and he didn’t know how since he’d not eaten since that morning, but trying to rationalize that concept with his stomach was arguing a lost cause as he found himself leaning over the toilet, emptying bile into the bowl.

Struggling to his feet he allowed the familiar activity of showering and dressing to distract him. Refused to acknowledge what he was seeing as swirls of pink tinged water disappeared down the drain.

He was fully aware that he only had a tenuous hold on his emotions, on his stability, but he was determined not to let go of it again. He had to be stronger than the shell shocked man who’d been sat in the corridor of the hospital by himself for an eternity waiting for others to come to tell him what to do.

Jensen's parents were outside by the time he re-emerged from the staff washroom.

His previous meetings with them had led him to believe they were strong and confident people – not the diminished man and woman who stood before him now.

Could it have only been a couple of hours ago that he'd spoken to them? Happy, relieved at how the judge had ruled in Jeff’s favor? Despite their adamant assertions that it could go no other way he'd known their worry had mirrored his own.

"What happened?" Peter Ackles' voice sounded nothing like the man who'd laughed and joked and suggested a party was in order.

Jeff looked at Jensen's dad and shook his head, trying to piece together what the police officer had told him as they'd escorted him to the hospital. The ambulance crew too busy working on Jensen's failing body to allow Jeff to travel with them no matter how much he had begged to be allowed to do so.

"Adam Connors."

Sleep was not even attempted during the next twenty four hours.

At various times Jeff had been aware of the comings and goings of everyone else. Of a cup, or a plate, being thrust into his hands, of a blanket being placed round his shoulders when he'd refused to exchange either the chair near the theatre nor the one outside ICU, for a more comfortable bunk elsewhere.

He knew Chris never left. Knew he always had the company of at least one of Jensen's parents, while Jensen’s siblings, Sam, Lena and his dad were there in shifts. The small hotel on the far side of the hospital car park had become the base of operations for the Ackles and Morgan clans, at least as far as showers and nap times were concerned.

After an initial six hours of surgery they'd been advised to prepare themselves for the worst. Jensen had hemorrhaged and there'd been enough blood loss for his heart to fail. The extent of the internal damage called for a second surgeon to be called in to work alongside the first and even when they finally wheeled him out, put him into a bed hooked up to so many monitors and machines Jensen was lost in amongst them, the prognosis was still less than hopeful.

How could he be expected to eat or sleep when every breath could be Jensen's last?

How could he be expected to do anything?

Instead his mind skittered from one half formed thought to the next.

Painful thoughts.

Horrifying memories.

Shattering predictions of possible futures.

He cursed himself for failing them.

His Mate.

His son.

They were his to protect.

To keep safe.

He’d failed them!

It was like fighting to rise to the surface of a lake. He kicked and kicked but for every inch he rose higher something else, something old and dark and consuming, dragged him back down. He tried to break free, tried so hard, and sometimes he almost managed to see beyond the surface.

Voices enticed him onwards. Beckoning. Begging. Pleading.

He was trying, but it was so hard.

But there was something lurking on the shore. A threat. Something waiting, threatening to destroy him and everything he'd ever grown to love. Fear of facing that creature tempted him to stay where he was. Tempted him to take comfort in the dark oblivion the depths offered.

He could do that, he could.

Letting go would be so easy.

If it wasn't for the voices.

"You shouldn't still be here." Chris looked up from his seat at Jensen's bedside to Jeff's sister who closed the door behind her as she stepped inside.

"I'll go when Jeff gets back." He didn’t have the energy to argue.

"Jensen's mom is here. He won't be on his own."

"I can't go."

"Yes you can. The place at his side is reserved by someone else. It most definitely isn't yours, no matter how much you might want it to be."

Chris shook his head. He knew Lena was right. Jeff had a right to be here and Chris, he didn't. It didn't stop him talking to Jensen when they were alone together. Didn't stop him taking the opportunity to tell Jensen how much he was loved. The only opportunity he was ever likely to get.

He let Lena drag him out of the room before Jeff returned. Before Sarah Ackles walked in with her sorrowful but knowing looks.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Dropping coins into the vending machine, he ignored her words even though she would undoubtedly know he'd heard them.

"He's my brother's Mate."

The coffee was surprisingly palatable.

"He sleeps in my brother's bed. Spreads his legs for him. Lets my brother fuck him. Loves it. Probably begs Jeff to take him harder, deeper, faster."

Chris choked, "Fuck Lee, he's your brother. You talking about his sex life is seriously messed up."

The tension was broken by laughter as Lena started rocking on her feet, "Well at least I know you're not ignoring me."

"How the fuck am I meant to ignore you, you're a fucking psycho?"

"Takes one to know one."

Chris closed his eyes, hated the idea of facing the truth. "I'm going to have to leave, aren't I?"

Lena didn't say anything, but then he already knew the answer.

Neither one of them were talking about the hospital.

Jeff held Jensen's hand and gently stroked along the lengths of his fingers. Ten days had passed and the doctor had finally declared Jensen out of danger. Two more trips to theatre and a major infection had aged Jeff twenty years, but Jensen was out of the woods and Jeff had been convinced to spend brief periods away from his bedside. For food, for a much needed shower, but he came back here to sleep. He could barely cope being away for minutes at a time without extending it to the hours a quick nap would descend into.

He looked up as the door opened, half expecting to see Chris re-joining the vigil and was ever so glad it was someone else. Once Jensen was out of here and on his feet he would have to deal with Chris' infatuation once and for all.

"You want a coffee?" Jeff shook his head as Jensen's dad left the room and his mom took the seat on the opposite side to Jeff. Took Jensen's other hand.

"There's no change. They thought he was waking up earlier but he didn't open his eyes."

Donna stroked Jensen's hair back off his face, "He always used to be fond of sleep when he was little. He'll wake up when he's ready."

"Hey baby. Open your eyes."

Jensen's eyes fluttered and Jeff had never been happier than when confused green gazed up at him. There was no pain, the doctors had promised that, but Jeff worried whether the drugs would add to Jensen's bewilderment, his reaction when he learned the price they'd paid on the side of a road.

It didn't take long.

Jensen's face crumpled as his hands moved to his flat stomach. The tears didn't fall but the silent scream was enough to break Jeff's heart all over again.

Jeff had already said goodbye to their son, Jensen's doctors sedated him before Jensen could even begin to do the same.

Three more weeks passed before Jeff was able to take Jensen home. Walking was difficult and his flesh was still tender and sore, but he was improving. Bones were mending and bruises had faded.

Jensen didn't talk about the baby.

At first Jeff had thought being home would be a good thing, but Jensen rarely left their bed, hardly ate, and needed pills to sleep.

Visits by both friends and family didn't improve matters. They wept and offered sympathy while Jensen was impassive, unresponsive. That's the way he was during the day, at night, that's when he cried, when his defences were down and he couldn't rein it in. That was when he mourned the loss he couldn't bear to acknowledge when he was conscious.

Two months after Jensen came home not a lot had changed.

He stared at his sleeping mate and carefully pushed the door, leaving it ajar, unwilling to let it close completely less one of Jensen’s nightmares wake him up and Jeff not hear. Worse than the knowledge that Jensen was waking up bereft, broken, was the idea of him doing it alone.

Chris and Sam were waiting for him when he returned to the kitchen. Sam placed a coffee cup in front of him and leant back against the kitchen counter as he sat at the table next to Chris, waiting for the interrogation to begin. He figured he should be grateful that they’d waited until Jensen was in bed.

“What’d the doc say?”

"He doesn't think it'll be long. Days at most, but he's of the same opinion as me. Jensen's not ready."

"So what are you going to do?"

Jeff bit his lip. Stalled. He knew his suggestion wasn't going to go down well but he couldn't think of any other options. He'd discussed it with Jensen's parents - the people most likely to object - and even they had eventually accepted his plan as the only feasible one. "I'm going to ask someone to come into seclusion with us. To be with Jensen when I can't be so he doesn't have to suffer withdrawal along with everything else he's going through right now."

The silence was strained and uncomfortable and Jeff expected the fireworks to start at any moment. Before any words were spoken, however, Chris left the room. The door slamming behind him.

"You'd better go talk to him." Sam's eyebrows rose at Jeff's querying look. "Well he is the person you're going to ask, isn't he?"

"How did...?"

"Because I'm not stupid, Jeff. You would do anything in the world to make this easier on Jensen and you know that Chris loves him. Chris would never hurt him. What you've got to ask yourself is this. How you going to feel if Chris gets him pregnant?"

"Legally..."

"Fuck legally, Jeff. I know that any child produced by Jensen would be legally yours, but what if it was biologically Chris'?"

"The child would be Jensen's. I can't say I'd be happy, but the fact that the baby is Jensen's would be enough for me to love it."

"Fair enough. Go talk to Chris, I'll keep an ear out for our boy."

Jeff caught up with Chris in the garden, standing next to Jensen's flower bed, barren and empty now since winter had taken hold, but under the surface there was no doubt new life waiting to emerge. Chris wouldn’t turn to look at him but Jeff noticed how stiff he was holding himself as he hissed his question. "How can you want someone else to mate with him?"

Jeff stood at his side, almost close enough to reach out and touch. It was easier that they weren't face to face. Chris had been making noises about leaving and Jeff realized the moment he’d heard about his plans that it would be entirely the wrong thing to happen. "I don't want anyone else to have that honor, but you give me an alternative plan of action, Chris. Please."

"You don't attend the trial. You stay in that fucking apartment and you don't leave him alone."

Shaking his head, he was sure Chris was aware of his response. "Then the man who put Jensen in the hospital, killed our baby, might get away with it."

"He wouldn't."

"I can't risk it. I need Jensen to be - to feel - safe. I'm responsible for taking care of him. That's my job and I failed." His voice almost broke at that last admission and Jeff swept his hands through his hair. Bit his lip. "Besides, I'd be subpoenaed if I didn't show willingly. Any other ideas?"

"Delay his seclusion."

"Not going to happen.” Chris’ shoulders stiffened further, the white knuckles blanched even more. “Jensen… he isn't strong enough physically to go through the treatment that would postpone it. His biological need to procreate really is going to screw him over.” He felt the tears threatening as the ball of pain, which had been lodged firmly in his chest, rose up to his throat, threatened to choke him. “As soon as the baby died this was going to be inevitable."

“Jamie.” The name was whispered but Jeff heard it. Jensen’s Jamie. His Jamie. One day he’d be able to say that name without wanting to scream at God for the injustice of it. Hate was a satisfactory substitute for grief – it kept him functioning.

"Who do you have in mind?"

Chris’ words brought him out of a fantasy in which Adam Connors was the body lying in the street in a pool of his own blood, while Jeff sat behind the wheel of a car, contemplating reversing and finishing the bastard off.

He placed his hand on Chris' shoulder, felt it begin to shake. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"He's my friend, Jeff. Fuck it, you're my boss. How can this work?"

"It will work because you care about him. It will work because you love him."

"I..."

"There's no point in denying it, Chris. I see it every time you think no one is looking. The only person who doesn't have a clue how you feel about Jensen is Jensen."

Chris looked pained. "I never meant..."

"Hey. I'm not judging. I can admit I'm not happy about it but, hell, how can I blame you for loving him? How can I? He's pretty damned irresistible."

"I was going to leave."

"I know that."

Chris sighed, "If I agree to this, how's it going to work? What if he doesn't want it?"

Jeff shook his head. "We can't force him into this if he doesn't want it, but we can convince him that it's a good idea."

"I'd love for you to come up with an argument that'd make sense to him."

Jeff smiled, but there was no humor in it. "I promise to work on it."

"You can't be serious."

Chris looked at the food in front of him and realized he wasn't going to be eating it. He shouldn't have been so reluctant to bring this up with Lena. There was going to be no easing her into the idea no matter how long she had to get used to it. "Serious as a heart attack."

Lena stood up, strode across the room and opened the door onto the back porch. She didn't close the door and Chris could see she was breathing heavily as her breath billowed around her.

She'd come back in once she calmed down. Once she'd rationalized her argument against the insanity Jeff had talked him into.

Jeff's conversation with Jensen had been brief. Jensen had been passive as Jeff explained how three parents were ideal in a family where two might spend a lot of time in seclusion. How Jeff and Chris could make sure that any youngster didn't miss out on parental involvement and attention. At least Jensen had appeared to listen, to digest what was said. He didn't veto the idea, anyway, and Jeff saw that as a win even if Chris was still left uncertain.

Lena closed the door behind her as she stepped back into the room. Her therapist's lesson on taking timeout had never worn off and Chris was grateful given how she was known to act if she was overly emotional.

"I love you and I love my brother, but I can't believe you want to get involved with his sex life."

Chris shook his head, "I'm not going to be having sex with your brother."

The laughter was bitter and cruel, "Oh, I don't doubt you're both only interested in fucking Jensen, but he'll see you at it and you'll see him. Eventually you'll end up fucking each other, it's inevitable."

"Lena..."

"And what about Jensen?"

"What about him?"

"You really think he wants you that way? Chris, I know you love him but does he love you? Is he even capable of it right now?"

The same doubts plagued Chris' thoughts but he'd already agreed to this. Besides, Jensen hadn't loved Jeff at first.

"You stupid bastard. I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?"

"Sorry."

Lena leant over and kissed him, “I sincerely hope you won’t be.”

The crib had already disappeared from the nursery, the toys, the clothes, were in piles ready to be packed and taken away.

"He said he wanted it gone."

Jeff turned away, the ever constant lump in his chest putting pressure on his bruised heart. "Where's it going?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He could've wept at the sympathy in Sam's voice. Jensen had handed out the instruction and Jeff hadn't been consulted... but then the nursery had been left to Jensen before, why should he think to consult Jeff now?

He shook his head. "No. No, I guess not." The nursery door closed silently behind them as they stepped back out onto the landing. "Do you fancy a bit of remodeling? Reorganizing up here?" He held his arms out, indicating that he didn't just mean the suite of rooms that had encompassed the nursery and master bedroom.

"What do you have in mind?"

The house, all told, possessed a dozen reasonably sized bedrooms. Six had en suite bathrooms. Half were on this side of the main stairs, half were on the other.

"Would you be willing to move over here?"

"You want to go to my side?"

Jeff nodded. "Chris is moving in so if he has a room on one side of the new nursery, Jensen and I can have the other."

"Do you want anything from your old room?"

"Just my clothes."

He looked at the closed nursery door one last time before turning away, the bottle of scotch sitting in his office calling him like a siren.

The first day of the trial was scheduled to coincide with the second day of Jensen’s seclusion. Jeff took the opportunity to have the first day with Jensen on his own and Chris would enter the apartment when Jeff left on the morning of the second day. It wasn’t ideal, but Jeff doubted he was prepared to watch Jensen with Chris, just yet. Avoiding it wouldn’t be something he’d be able to do for very long, but while he could…

The differences between the first and second time in the apartment were more than just the obvious. With Jensen's birthday only days away it was almost a year since they'd entered their first seclusion, and the best part of nine months since they'd walked out the door. Jeff ignored the cruelty of that little fact. Nine months. Jamie's due date had passed with tears and hangovers, and that had just been him. Jensen had refused to acknowledge it at all, no matter how much Jeff had tried to bring it up.

He watched as Jensen limped over to the glass wall, his hands settling against it.

The garden hadn't yet awoken from its winter slumber but Jeff doubted Jensen was interested anyway, not really. His Mate wasn't focusing on the planting or the heavy storm clouds looming overhead.

As he stepped closer, placed a hand on Jensen's shoulder, he could see from his reflection in the glass that Jensen's eyes were closed. The trembling that cascaded along Jensen’s muscles at the contact wasn’t missed. They’d not really touched since before and Jeff had worried over causing him any pain. Now intimacy was being forced and pain or discomfort wasn't going to be a consideration.

He lost track of time as he brought his other hand up to Jensen's other shoulder. Felt the very visible shudder at thunder's first roar.

"We're not replacing him." It was a whisper, hardly loud enough to hear over the storm unleashing its wrath beyond the pane.

"Never."

Jensen turned then, took Jeff's hand, and led him toward the bedroom, "I guess we better do this then."

Jeff watched Jensen slowly remove his clothes. There was no shyness, no reticence, just resignation. His body was making demands and even though he no doubt wanted to deny it what it wanted he knew he had no choice but to surrender.

The painkillers he still took on occasion had been left outside with Sam. If the pain got so bad that Jensen was in need of them then either Jeff or Chris would get him some. They had to limit the amount of drugs in his system because his temperamental body chemistry was likely to start reacting with them and Jeff doubted Jensen was rational enough to take that into consideration – or to care about any harmful effects the medication may inflict on him.

The scars weren't as angry and livid as they had been, but the crescent that curved round his right shoulder, the tracks that ran from his hip down to his knee, that splayed across the concave curve of his stomach, were a testament to how his body had been broken by Connors that day.

Jensen's eyes closed as Jeff ran his fingers across his scars, tracing the proof of Jensen's survival. "Don't."

Jeff stopped and looked up to see the desperate look on his Mate's face, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Can't we just...."

Jeff took pity on Jensen's inability to articulate what he wanted to say and spent the remainder of their time together attempting to show Jensen exactly how much he loved him with his body.

Jensen made all the right moves, sighed and moaned as Jeff touched and thrust, but one look in his eyes was all Jeff needed to see his heart wasn’t in it.

They barely looked at each other when they met at the doorway of the apartment. Chris had just been about to punch in the code Jeff had provided when the door opened and the shock on his face was met with the resignation and sorrow on Jeff’s.

“He’s still asleep.”

Chris didn’t know what to say and Jeff was gone before he could formulate anything resembling a sensible response.

The desire for Jensen had been with him for months, but as the door closed behind him and he settled into the living room the need for him, for sex, twisted into a solid knot inside.

Jensen was ripe and fertile and Chris wanted to give in to the desire thrumming through his veins. The siren call pulling him to where Jensen was sleeping.

He knew what it was. Knew that what he was feeling was the desire all men felt when confronted with the scent of a fenom who was going through a reproductive phase, and he wondered how the hell Jeff could force himself to walk away. Drag himself from the magnetic pull that was Jensen’s body.

Chris resisted the urge to seek Jensen out. He had to let his mind control his body for as long as possible. He was scared, fuck, he was scared. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. Mess Jensen up.

He walked round the apartment, steering clear of the bedroom. Acquainting himself with the place Jensen had told him about but which he thought he’d never get to see for himself.

The gym brought a smile to his face. He could work off some frustration in there. There wasn’t much in the way of equipment. Treadmill, rowing machine, weights, bike – but it was enough.

He hadn’t even been in there an hour when he felt the prickling along his neck that told him he was being watched. A shower damp and very naked Jensen, leaning in the doorway.

Chris didn’t know where to look and Jensen stepped closer, moving towards him. Chris stepped back, his nerves at war with desire. Jensen wasn’t deterred. He moved until he was easily within arm’s reach. “Why are you in here?”

“I…”

“It’s alright.” Jensen wrapped himself round Chris, rested his head on Chris’ shoulder as Chris brought his arms up, placed his hands on Jensen’s back. “You’re expected to touch me you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

He felt Jensen shake his head against his neck but didn’t look across at him. “Don’t be.”

Chris allowed Jensen to lead him towards the bedroom, the freshly made bed a testament to the fact Jensen was fully aware of the change in watch.

“Can I see you?”

Chris stalled by the bed, unsure of what Jensen meant at first.

“You can see me. It’s only fair that you reciprocate.”

As Chris obliged he couldn’t conceal the fact that he was hard and wanting, but then Jensen didn’t want him to. He studied Jensen’s face, looked for fear and uncertainty, but didn’t see it. All he saw was Jensen’s constant companion, sorrow not even attempting to hide itself amid the bright green.

Slender fingers held him, moved up and down the length of his shaft and he felt himself growing impossibly harder. Taking the initiative, letting instinct take control, he lowered Jensen onto the bed and settled himself between spread thighs.

He couldn’t hold back the declaration of love as he slipped inside, Jensen’s quiet gasp accompanying his own as he bottomed out, not quite believing that he was able to have this.

Have Jensen.

RETURN TO PART THREE | ON TO PART FIVE