Desperate Times - 12
Aug. 12th, 2008 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hemrageChapter 11: here.
Title: Desperate Times (12/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
“What the fuck man, stop it.” Jared grabbed Jack, holding him in a bruising grip as he strained to get at Sam. Jack may have had a smaller build than Jared, but he was fuelled by fury and Jared was struggling to restrain him.
“Why don’t you let him go?” Sam smiled, pushing himself away from the wall, walking to where he was only just beyond Jack’s reach.
“Because, you asshole, if he hits you he’s out of here.” Jared shouted at Jack. “D’ya hear me? You’ll be thrown out. You won’t be trusted around any child, not even yours.”
Jared felt Jack pull one more time before sagging against him, breathing heavily. Jared didn’t release his grip, didn’t let him go. Everyone was going stir crazy, that’s all this was. It didn’t help that Sam was a prize shit, but Jack couldn’t do this. Couldn’t leave him alone with Sam and Jensen. “It can’t be worth it man. It can’t be worth being kicked out, never seeing Tom. It can’t.”
Jared waited for the tension to slowly leach out of Jack’s muscles before he released him. But he remained poised to jump in if it looked like Jack was faking - or if Sam said anything else to provoke him.
“Just stay the fuck away from me.” Jack snarled before striding across the garden, waving his arm behind him, heading back inside.
“How the hell do you suggest I do that Jackie? Not like I can leave, is it?” Sam touched his chest as he shouted towards the retreating man’s back, obviously worked up, but not driven to violence like the other man.
Jack stopped and though he didn’t turn Jared prepared himself for round two. It didn’t come. After a few moments Jack continued on his path, back inside, leaving Jared and Sam alone.
“What’d you say to him?” Jared hissed.
Sam raised his eyebrows before choking out a laugh, bitter and scornful. “It has to be my fault does it? It can’t be him?” He pointed in Jack’s direction, shaking his head as he dropped his arm.
“Jack’s not a violent man. He had to’ve been provoked.”
“Really? Sure. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. After all, you know the man so well.”
Jared didn’t miss the sarcasm or the implication. Didn’t miss it at all. He’d been willing to admit to Jensen that people changed over six years, which meant there was no guarantee that Jack actually was the man he used to know.
Jared turned to Sam, taking no small measure of confidence in his ability to look down at him. “You and he met before?”
Sam shook his head, “No. Day before we came in here was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on him. Why’d you ask?”
“He seemed to know stuff about you.”
“Like?”
“You’ve been to the Farm.”
Sam’s eyes turned cold, “It’s not like I had a choice. I didn’t wake up one morning and think, hey, I wouldn’t mind lining up with a bunch of guys to rape a kid in restraints.”
“I never suggested …”
“The fuck you didn’t Jared. The fuck you didn’t.”
Jared watched Sam pace, breathing out slowly. The man was intimidating when he was angry and Jared suddenly felt like he’d shrunk six inches.
Sam rested his hands on his thighs, and Jared looked away, barely making out movement beyond the glass.
“You’re not going to hurt him are you?”
Sam stopped and twisted to look at him, and then saw where Jared was focused, who he was looking at. But his expression remained unreadable.
Damn, Jared wasn’t used to feeling intimidated, but it happened a lot round Sam. The man was old enough to be his dad and standing there, staring at him, Jared had the desire for the ground to open up and swallow him. Save him from the scrutiny.
But then there was Jensen and Jared had to know he was safe. Had to. Even if Jensen chose to spend all of his nights with Sam, he needed to know he wasn’t going to come to any harm.
“I have no intention of hurting Jensen.” Jared’s expression must’ve told Sam that he was questioning his sincerity, told him that Jared didn’t trust him, because he continued. “I have sex with him Jared, that’s all. You and Jack both do the same.”
“But…”
“I’ve not hurt him. I won’t. Why’d you think I would?”
Jared couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why he was so sure that Sam was bad news. Had no idea of anything anymore, but he needed to. “You were reading that book.”
“Which…?” Realization came to Sam slowly and he shook his head, disbelief written across every feature. “Tell me Jared, did every man who ever read ‘Mein Kampf’ decide to overthrow his government and make a bid for world domination?”
“No, but…”
“No but nothing. It’s a book. I was curious – the end.”
Jared found his fingers had made their way, inexplicably, into his mouth. Fuck. He hadn’t bitten his nails since he was twelve. “How was he last night? Jensen, I mean.”
“Tired, that’s all. Just tired.”
“He’s tired a lot.”
“Yes, he is. He’s tired and he doesn’t eat and he barely talks to anyone. He’s heading towards a breakdown, if he isn’t already in the middle of one – or haven’t you noticed?”
“I…” Jared had noticed something, just hadn’t wanted to think the worst. Hadn’t wanted to accept that things weren’t going to be as easy as he wanted them to be.
“You really are clueless. You think because you sweet talk him and make him come you’re showing him care and consideration? Have you ever been in a relationship that lasted more than a week?”
Jared wanted to feel insulted by what Sam was saying, wanted to get angry, but instead he felt like a failure. Sam was right. As far as relationships went Mandy was his longest and that’d only been a matter of convenience as far as she’d been concerned. He hadn’t had to work at keeping her, or making her happy. He hadn’t really meant anything to her, the one and only letter she’d sent in the last couple of weeks proved that.
Sam sighed, “Fuck, you look like a puppy I’ve kicked out into the rain.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize Jared. What you need to do is think about what you want from Jensen. What you want him to be to you. What you want to mean to him. Once you’ve got that straight in your head you just might get somewhere.”
“Why does he come to you? What do you give him?”
“Peace, Jared. I give him peace.”
He’d actually made it all the way to his car on the other side of the parking lot before he remembered that he had yet to take Thomas Hollingwood’s file to Dr Metcalfe’s secretary. The request for it had come in this morning while Jeff had been with a patient and he’d allowed it to slip his mind, though how the hell he’d been able to forget that woman’s superior attitude was beyond him. That bitch was scary.
For all of ten seconds he contemplated leaving it until tomorrow, coming in a little early to make sure it was there before the redheaded battleaxe got to work, but it just wasn’t worth the aggravation. If she was making demands then they were Metcalfe’s demands and the man was working his ass off to drive Jeff nuts. He may have been in traction, high on morphine most of the time, and with more tubes poking out of him than Jeff had pens in his desk, but he was determined not to let go of the reins. Adamant that no one dared forget that he was still the physician in charge of Gestate care at the Center.
Care!
Now wasn’t that a fucking joke?
Nate Metcalfe was an arrogant idiot who enjoyed the humiliation he inflicted on his patients. Enjoyed ‘putting them in their place’ whenever he could. Hell, if he treated women the way he treated Gestates he’d be up on charges for discrimination .. but no such legislation protected the rights of the men cursed with that particular condition.
Jeff couldn’t help but think that the world would be a far better place if Dr Metcalfe wasn’t in it, and wasn’t that a terrible thing for a man who valued all life to believe?
Metcalfe was paranoid that someone would make a play for his position while he was laid up and he’d managed to convince himself that Jeff held such an ambition. It was a joke as far as Jeff was concerned, he didn’t want the job, but he did want someone in the post who possessed at least an ounce of empathy, of sympathy.
Security didn’t bat an eye in his direction as they waved him through, too intent on watching the screens that were displaying images from closed circuit cameras positioned all over the complex.
It took him less than ten minutes to retrieve the file and make his way to the third floor where Metcalfe’s secretary should still be at her desk in front of the man’s office. Why she couldn’t come and get it herself was beyond him, she couldn’t have that much to do with Metcalfe absent, and it wasn’t as if Jeff had limitless amounts of time, not with the increased workload.
But, he supposed, it was best not to make too many waves. The arsonist at the clinic had been found to be someone who had worked there, and any dissention, or grumblings of ill content, would now be jumped on with suspicion.
Bloody woman wasn’t there when he arrived and, checking his watch, he came to the conclusion that she’d already left for the evening. Shouldn’t really have been surprised. “Fucking wonderful.”
He tapped the file on the desk and contemplated the merits of just leaving it there, on her desk. Claim he believed she was only gone temporarily, but he ruled that option out. Confidentiality had to be seen to be kept, even if the patient would never know to make a complaint about the information being divulged.
He walked past her desk and stopped at Metcalfe’s door, knocking it just below the brass name plate.
There was no answer, he hadn’t really expected there to be even though it was possible that the secretary – and what the hell was her name? – could’ve been inside. The door wasn’t locked, and the room beyond was uncharacteristically dark. The blinds were drawn and the CCTV screens didn’t illuminate the room as they normally did when Metcalfe was around to observe the activities of the men in confinement.
He dropped the file on the desk, next to the others which had already been pulled out for the report Metcalfe was composing on Gestate postpartum mortality.
Six files on the desk.
At least the child had survived this time.
He made his way out to his car contemplating the merits of scotch over gin. He’d always criticized his father for his tendency to drown himself in a bottle when things were rough.
Turned out he was a lot like his dad.
Part 13
Title: Desperate Times (12/?)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/OMCs, AU, Non-con, Dub-con, MPREG
“What the fuck man, stop it.” Jared grabbed Jack, holding him in a bruising grip as he strained to get at Sam. Jack may have had a smaller build than Jared, but he was fuelled by fury and Jared was struggling to restrain him.
“Why don’t you let him go?” Sam smiled, pushing himself away from the wall, walking to where he was only just beyond Jack’s reach.
“Because, you asshole, if he hits you he’s out of here.” Jared shouted at Jack. “D’ya hear me? You’ll be thrown out. You won’t be trusted around any child, not even yours.”
Jared felt Jack pull one more time before sagging against him, breathing heavily. Jared didn’t release his grip, didn’t let him go. Everyone was going stir crazy, that’s all this was. It didn’t help that Sam was a prize shit, but Jack couldn’t do this. Couldn’t leave him alone with Sam and Jensen. “It can’t be worth it man. It can’t be worth being kicked out, never seeing Tom. It can’t.”
Jared waited for the tension to slowly leach out of Jack’s muscles before he released him. But he remained poised to jump in if it looked like Jack was faking - or if Sam said anything else to provoke him.
“Just stay the fuck away from me.” Jack snarled before striding across the garden, waving his arm behind him, heading back inside.
“How the hell do you suggest I do that Jackie? Not like I can leave, is it?” Sam touched his chest as he shouted towards the retreating man’s back, obviously worked up, but not driven to violence like the other man.
Jack stopped and though he didn’t turn Jared prepared himself for round two. It didn’t come. After a few moments Jack continued on his path, back inside, leaving Jared and Sam alone.
“What’d you say to him?” Jared hissed.
Sam raised his eyebrows before choking out a laugh, bitter and scornful. “It has to be my fault does it? It can’t be him?” He pointed in Jack’s direction, shaking his head as he dropped his arm.
“Jack’s not a violent man. He had to’ve been provoked.”
“Really? Sure. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. After all, you know the man so well.”
Jared didn’t miss the sarcasm or the implication. Didn’t miss it at all. He’d been willing to admit to Jensen that people changed over six years, which meant there was no guarantee that Jack actually was the man he used to know.
Jared turned to Sam, taking no small measure of confidence in his ability to look down at him. “You and he met before?”
Sam shook his head, “No. Day before we came in here was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on him. Why’d you ask?”
“He seemed to know stuff about you.”
“Like?”
“You’ve been to the Farm.”
Sam’s eyes turned cold, “It’s not like I had a choice. I didn’t wake up one morning and think, hey, I wouldn’t mind lining up with a bunch of guys to rape a kid in restraints.”
“I never suggested …”
“The fuck you didn’t Jared. The fuck you didn’t.”
Jared watched Sam pace, breathing out slowly. The man was intimidating when he was angry and Jared suddenly felt like he’d shrunk six inches.
Sam rested his hands on his thighs, and Jared looked away, barely making out movement beyond the glass.
“You’re not going to hurt him are you?”
Sam stopped and twisted to look at him, and then saw where Jared was focused, who he was looking at. But his expression remained unreadable.
Damn, Jared wasn’t used to feeling intimidated, but it happened a lot round Sam. The man was old enough to be his dad and standing there, staring at him, Jared had the desire for the ground to open up and swallow him. Save him from the scrutiny.
But then there was Jensen and Jared had to know he was safe. Had to. Even if Jensen chose to spend all of his nights with Sam, he needed to know he wasn’t going to come to any harm.
“I have no intention of hurting Jensen.” Jared’s expression must’ve told Sam that he was questioning his sincerity, told him that Jared didn’t trust him, because he continued. “I have sex with him Jared, that’s all. You and Jack both do the same.”
“But…”
“I’ve not hurt him. I won’t. Why’d you think I would?”
Jared couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why he was so sure that Sam was bad news. Had no idea of anything anymore, but he needed to. “You were reading that book.”
“Which…?” Realization came to Sam slowly and he shook his head, disbelief written across every feature. “Tell me Jared, did every man who ever read ‘Mein Kampf’ decide to overthrow his government and make a bid for world domination?”
“No, but…”
“No but nothing. It’s a book. I was curious – the end.”
Jared found his fingers had made their way, inexplicably, into his mouth. Fuck. He hadn’t bitten his nails since he was twelve. “How was he last night? Jensen, I mean.”
“Tired, that’s all. Just tired.”
“He’s tired a lot.”
“Yes, he is. He’s tired and he doesn’t eat and he barely talks to anyone. He’s heading towards a breakdown, if he isn’t already in the middle of one – or haven’t you noticed?”
“I…” Jared had noticed something, just hadn’t wanted to think the worst. Hadn’t wanted to accept that things weren’t going to be as easy as he wanted them to be.
“You really are clueless. You think because you sweet talk him and make him come you’re showing him care and consideration? Have you ever been in a relationship that lasted more than a week?”
Jared wanted to feel insulted by what Sam was saying, wanted to get angry, but instead he felt like a failure. Sam was right. As far as relationships went Mandy was his longest and that’d only been a matter of convenience as far as she’d been concerned. He hadn’t had to work at keeping her, or making her happy. He hadn’t really meant anything to her, the one and only letter she’d sent in the last couple of weeks proved that.
Sam sighed, “Fuck, you look like a puppy I’ve kicked out into the rain.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize Jared. What you need to do is think about what you want from Jensen. What you want him to be to you. What you want to mean to him. Once you’ve got that straight in your head you just might get somewhere.”
“Why does he come to you? What do you give him?”
“Peace, Jared. I give him peace.”
He’d actually made it all the way to his car on the other side of the parking lot before he remembered that he had yet to take Thomas Hollingwood’s file to Dr Metcalfe’s secretary. The request for it had come in this morning while Jeff had been with a patient and he’d allowed it to slip his mind, though how the hell he’d been able to forget that woman’s superior attitude was beyond him. That bitch was scary.
For all of ten seconds he contemplated leaving it until tomorrow, coming in a little early to make sure it was there before the redheaded battleaxe got to work, but it just wasn’t worth the aggravation. If she was making demands then they were Metcalfe’s demands and the man was working his ass off to drive Jeff nuts. He may have been in traction, high on morphine most of the time, and with more tubes poking out of him than Jeff had pens in his desk, but he was determined not to let go of the reins. Adamant that no one dared forget that he was still the physician in charge of Gestate care at the Center.
Care!
Now wasn’t that a fucking joke?
Nate Metcalfe was an arrogant idiot who enjoyed the humiliation he inflicted on his patients. Enjoyed ‘putting them in their place’ whenever he could. Hell, if he treated women the way he treated Gestates he’d be up on charges for discrimination .. but no such legislation protected the rights of the men cursed with that particular condition.
Jeff couldn’t help but think that the world would be a far better place if Dr Metcalfe wasn’t in it, and wasn’t that a terrible thing for a man who valued all life to believe?
Metcalfe was paranoid that someone would make a play for his position while he was laid up and he’d managed to convince himself that Jeff held such an ambition. It was a joke as far as Jeff was concerned, he didn’t want the job, but he did want someone in the post who possessed at least an ounce of empathy, of sympathy.
Security didn’t bat an eye in his direction as they waved him through, too intent on watching the screens that were displaying images from closed circuit cameras positioned all over the complex.
It took him less than ten minutes to retrieve the file and make his way to the third floor where Metcalfe’s secretary should still be at her desk in front of the man’s office. Why she couldn’t come and get it herself was beyond him, she couldn’t have that much to do with Metcalfe absent, and it wasn’t as if Jeff had limitless amounts of time, not with the increased workload.
But, he supposed, it was best not to make too many waves. The arsonist at the clinic had been found to be someone who had worked there, and any dissention, or grumblings of ill content, would now be jumped on with suspicion.
Bloody woman wasn’t there when he arrived and, checking his watch, he came to the conclusion that she’d already left for the evening. Shouldn’t really have been surprised. “Fucking wonderful.”
He tapped the file on the desk and contemplated the merits of just leaving it there, on her desk. Claim he believed she was only gone temporarily, but he ruled that option out. Confidentiality had to be seen to be kept, even if the patient would never know to make a complaint about the information being divulged.
He walked past her desk and stopped at Metcalfe’s door, knocking it just below the brass name plate.
There was no answer, he hadn’t really expected there to be even though it was possible that the secretary – and what the hell was her name? – could’ve been inside. The door wasn’t locked, and the room beyond was uncharacteristically dark. The blinds were drawn and the CCTV screens didn’t illuminate the room as they normally did when Metcalfe was around to observe the activities of the men in confinement.
He dropped the file on the desk, next to the others which had already been pulled out for the report Metcalfe was composing on Gestate postpartum mortality.
Six files on the desk.
At least the child had survived this time.
He made his way out to his car contemplating the merits of scotch over gin. He’d always criticized his father for his tendency to drown himself in a bottle when things were rough.
Turned out he was a lot like his dad.
Part 13
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-12 11:09 pm (UTC)Didn't expect to have sympathy for Sam at the farm, but, I kinda do (I was wondering what actually happened there). Now I'm wondering what Sam did to get sent there (like Jensen's attacker).
Hope Jared takes Sam's advise this time--at least I think I do! So many twists. No one is black and white. I like that. I did miss Jensen in this one, but the poor guy sure needed a break.
Another great chapter.
Thanks for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 03:14 pm (UTC)As for your thoughts about the Farm? Well, it's not a 'punishment' thing .. think of it more as - now this is putting it VERY crudely - think of it as a stud farm, one mare being serviced by as many stallions as possible with the hope that at least one of them will hit the bullseye .. It can almost be considered a last resort because the Inseminates aren't really compatable breeders with the Gestate ...
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 05:11 pm (UTC)I'm worried about the mortalities!! As always, can't wait for more.