lucifersprize (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lucifersprize) wrote2013-07-18 03:57 pm
lucifersprize) wrote2013-07-18 03:57 pm
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Big Bang 2013: Have Hatred and Gravity Won - 7/19
Back to Masterpost
Jared awoke to the aroma of coffee and the familiar comfort of a green eyed slave. “You didn't leave me.” He remembered having Jensen unchained in his bed, and there was a measure of relief in the realization.
“There was breakfast to make. You can't get rid of me that easily, Master,” his slave answered softly.
He reached a hand out to touch Jensen's arm. “Don't. Don't call me that any more. I don't want to be that any more. Not when we're alone.”
“Can't change history, Jared.” Jensen looked sad. “It won't change what I am, but I will try to remember to only use Master in the company of others.”
“Good.” Jared glanced at his watch and his gut twisted with anxiety, “Has nobody come to get us?”
Jensen sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed a tray to him. “No,” he replied simply. He stirred a bowl of thick cereal, and opened a jar of maple syrup. “Obviously there isn't anything fresh, but the oatmeal seems good, and there's orange juice.”
Jared wrapped his fingers around the individual carton and sipped at his juice. It was cold and refreshing but it felt like acid in his stomach. He couldn't understand how Jensen remained so calm. He dabbed the spoon at the oatmeal without eating it. “Where's yours?” he asked.
“I had army rations earlier.”
Jared sat up. Jensen placed pillows to aid him. "What were they like?” He'd seen them in the stores but never tried them.
His slave laughed, “Nutritious but not delicious. It's all good, we'll manage.”
He drizzled maple syrup on the top of his oatmeal, and then stabbed it with his spoon once more. He took two mouthfuls, stirred the rest and pushed the dish aside. He wasn't hungry and his stomach rebelled against every portion. Jensen looked disappointed, so he reassured him, “It's not your cooking. I just can't eat,” explained Jared.
“It was a long day and energetic evening. You have to be hungry, Jared.”
Jared bit his lip. He couldn't help the guilt. He had been fucking while others suffered. Awful images and thoughts raced through his head. “Do you think they're all dead?”
“No, I think they're hiding, like us.”
“But, it's only a matter of time, isn't it? We'll run out of food and water, or they'll come in and get us. Do you think it will be quick? I don't. They'll want it to be public. There were rumors about what they did at the official residence. It's gonna be worse for Pa and for me. I could ask them to go easy on you, but it might make it worse.” Jared’s breath was quickening and a sweat broke on his brow. He felt the dip of the bed, the tray was lifted away, and the warm bulk of Jensen was by his side, arms around his waist, pulling him into a solid embrace.
“Stop! We talked about this. They aren't going to know we're here. If it takes too long we will get out of here and make a run for it together. Now, breathe in.” It was a command.
Jared breathed in.
“Hold it. Now out, slowly, calmly. Repeat.” Jensen breathed with him. Jared's heart gradually steadied and he melted into the warmth and security of the older man. “That's it. Good boy.”
They stayed like that for a while, before Jensen reached to grab the tray again. “You have to stay strong.”
Jared didn't have a moment before the spoon was nudging at his lips, “Open up baby boy, want to see you take all of this.” Jared's mouth opened obediently to take the offered food. For some reason it didn't feel humiliating. It was a token of care, and Jared let Jensen feed him like a baby, and wipe the traces from the side of his mouth with a tissue. “You need someone to look after you,” crooned Jensen.
Jared didn't object, he accepted his mug of coffee from him, warmed his hands around it, snuggled into Jensen's side and drank it slowly.
Fingers carded through his hair. “I warmed some water for you to wash, but it's probably cold by now,” Jensen mentioned.
“I'm not fragile!” protested Jared.
“No, but you're still stressing,” his slave retorted.
“Can we just …maybe stay in bed for now. We could play cards, or there's a book of crosswords. You can find my iPod, it still has some charge, so we can have music. The silence is driving me insane. I can't believe there's no TV.”
Jensen hmphed, “Kids! There are batteries, and solar power is being generated somewhere but it's barely managing the lights. Luckily there are candles if it fails.”
“Oh, right.” It was humbling to have to think about every watt of power. There were towns and villages which regularly blacked out with terrorist action, or simple lack of facilities, and yet, with the exception of his camping trips, he had never been without TV and games. Even then he had music. “Hey!” he almost shouted, “There's a wind-up camping radio in my back pack. I thought we could use it when we were fishing, then I forgot about it. We can hook it into the aerial for the comms unit. We can find out the news.” Jared’s face fell, as he thought about it, “I'm not sure if I'm ready to know.”
Jensen was staring at him with something like open-mouthed amazement, “I didn't pack a radio.”
“No, I found it when I was poking around the lodge earlier. It's one of those gadgets that seemed like a great idea, but we never got around to using.”
Jensen placed a smacking kiss on his cheek. “You're brilliant,” he grinned.
It was a genuine compliment. For the first time that day, some of Jared's tension melted away.
Jensen caved in to his request to wait before using the radio. They curled close in the bed and shouted answers to a crossword puzzle Jared had chosen. Everything about being with Jensen felt right. It felt like love.
“Sexy star of Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Jared chewed his pencil.
“Angelina Jolie,”
“Brad Pitt!” they shouted together.
Jensen dissolved into laughter, “Angelina Jolie. Are you serious?”
“It's what they're looking for,” pouted Jared, showing him the blank spaces.
“Judging by the way you took my cock, she's not what you're looking for eh, baby boy?”
Jared shrugged. Jensen propped himself up on one elbow, to look at him, “You're bi? Have you even been with a woman, Jared?”
“Yeah!” Jared defended himself, but he unconsciously tensed and his self-doubt swirled angrily in his mind. His shoulders dropped with the tone of his voice, “I don't know, I thought I was bi, or I wanted to be. It would be easier. I might be.”
“It's not unusual at your age. Lots of people spend their entire life, confused. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“When, I'm around you, I'm not confused.” It was the truth. Here and now, Jared understood he was gay, or maybe Jensen-sexual. He pressed close to Jensen's side.
Jensen looked thoughtful. “What was the girl like? Was she pretty? Did daddy take you to a brothel to lose your virginity? Was she a slave like me, or like Fin?”
Jared remembered every detail of her. His nails bit into his palms. “She was an employee, not a slave. She was beautiful. She was slim, but not thin, with dark hair, dark eyes, and an attitude.” Jared smiled fondly, “She could kick your ass.”
Jensen's eyes slammed shut and he let out a peculiar gasp. Jared was momentarily terrified that he had offended Jensen, but the older man opened his eyes and smiled at him, “What else? Was she as good at sex as me?”
Jared chuckled, “I was sixteen, she was nineteen. It wasn't Love Story. There is nothing to compare. She was like a sister.” His cheeks colored, “Well, a sister with benefits. It was fun for a while. I think mostly it was an experiment, or to prove that I wasn't gay. In the end I think it confirmed the opposite.”
Jensen's fingers curled into a fist. “What happened?”
“We broke up.” Jared couldn't help the abrupt answer. It hadn't been love, but the details opened a rancid, painful sore.
Jensen's eyebrows rose and his mouth twisted, “Broke-up isn't code for what happened to Fin is it?”
“No! Why would you even …?” Jared was defensive, even if the truth wasn't far from it.
“Sorry. How does the youth of today break up? Did you have an angst-filled heart to heart, or what?” There was something insistent about Jensen's questioning.
This time, Jared flamed with color. He couldn't meet Jensen's gaze. “Text, or lack of it” he murmured. Every word Sophie had typed was burned like a brand on his memory.
J where r u?
Is this u dumping me?
J? pick up
J pls we need to talk
They're close – pls Jay – don't want to die angry with each other-talk 2 me
Pls – need a friendly voice
J? pls
Coward. Bastard. Grow some balls
DIE IN AGONY AND BURN IN HELL JARED PADALECKI
Jared shook himself from the memory, blinked back a tear and put on his best couldn't-give -a-shit face.
“Wow. Text. That's cold.” There was something unsettling in Jensen's reaction and Jared thought he had no right to judge him.
“Wasn't asking the opinion of a slave,” he sneered, before turning his back on him. He didn't know why he had to do that, and silently cursed his adolescent temper.
Jensen stood and Jared heard him walk away, then pause to say, “I guess your relationship skills haven't improved.”
“There's no relationship here Jensen, it's a fuck, not love; you said it yourself.” Jared's mouth was running away with itself and it wouldn't stop.
“Keep kidding yourself, Jared. I'm going to hook up the radio. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from me.” Jensen was cool and tightly controlled. It made Jared furious.
“How dare you tell me what to do! I'll flog you!” he yelled, without thought.
Jensen's reaction was unexpected, out of character for the man he'd got used to. He doubled back and had Jared in some sort of wrestling grip in the blink of an eye. Jared was thrown, terrified and naked, over the bed, with his arm bent painfully and a knee in the small of his back. His slave was remarkably strong and Jared knew he was in trouble. Every threat he could issue was redundant in the circumstances, and he didn't have the remote for Jensen's collar. “Please don't,” Jared begged, without knowing what he was begging for.
He could hear Jensen's teeth grinding and a low growl from his throat, “You're a spoiled brat. You have no idea how to act, no respect, and no control.”
Jared swallowed. He thought it was probably all true. It didn't make his fear and humiliation any less. He couldn't form an answer.
“Mommy treated you like a Prince but she wasn't there to guide you. Daddy likes the idea of an heir but can't be bothered with you. They never had time to praise your achievements, or discipline you, did they?” The pressure reduced on his arm, Jensen hissed his words in Jared's ear. “You wanted acknowledgment, respect and parental guidance so much that you came back to this dump of a country looking for it, and now you know your father isn't capable of any of it, I am the next best thing. It might not be love, but it sure as hell is something. You're not going to punish me, because I can give you what you need, Jared. When you can admit it, come and find me by the comms.”
The weight on his back disappeared and, as quickly as he had subdued Jared, Jensen was gone, leaving him cold, naked and ashamed on the bed. The air rushed from Jared's lungs, taking his fear with it, leaving him calmer and a little aroused. He replayed the scene, trying to understand how Jensen got into his head so easily. None of it made any sense, which was pretty much the story of his life.
The wiring was simple. Ross could fix the entire console if he was inclined, but Jensen wouldn't know where to start. Setting up the aerial for the radio was easy, even for an accountant, so he concentrated on that. His hands were steady, but his fury burned deep. It disturbed him that his focus had shifted. He wanted to hate Jared with the same venom that had fueled him for so long, but it was getting harder all the time. Jared was stupid, selfish and arrogant, yet there was a vulnerability to him, something that attracted Jensen to the boy. There was a sense that Jared was open to change, even waiting for it. Jensen snorted. It was nothing but his inner control freak getting off on a young body ripe for molding. If he even liked him. Which he didn't, not at all. Collateral Damage, he reminded himself. There was no way it ended well for Jared Padalecki, and it was fitting, after all Jared had taken his family from him 11 months, two days and…he checked the time, about 3 hours…earlier.
“Ross?”
“Who is this?” he asked, but he already recognized the pitch and the accent. Christ, he'd missed her.
“Oh, thank goodness. I thought you might have ditched this number. Last time I used it was a year ago, at the zoo.”
She passed the 'not under duress test' with an old password. They'd never been to the zoo.“Soph?”
“Yeah, surprise!” her voice was full of fake cheer and stress.
“You okay? You finally getting out?”
He could hear her choke up, “I guess, sort of. Just thought you'd want to hear my news.”
There was no way the call was a casual catch-up, he let her continue. He thought he could hear the sound of gunfire in the background.
“I got the posting I wanted. Passed the psych, the physical, the lot. Youngest on the President's own security team. You taught me to kick-ass with the best.” It was a proud statement, but there was a shake in her voice.
He was confused, “According to CNN, the President is under attack. Where are you? When did you get out?”
Her reply was barely there, “The family and government needed a diversion. I said I was getting out, and I am.” there was a pause, “The hard way.”
Ross sat bolt upright, “Sophie, I'll come, hold on.”
There was the slightest laugh, “My hero,” she crooned, “There's a full-on battle and it's too late. It's my job, remember? I'm fine with it, really. I just needed to hear your voice.”
His heart splintered, Sophie wasn't the dramatic sort. She was the most capable soldier he knew, and if she said there was no way out, he believed her. He could do this for her. He had to.
“How's your mother?”
“She eloped with a saleswoman, and I'm not even joking. They're very happy, living in a camper van and growing their own weed.”
Jensen's laugh was genuine, “Your mother was always the best. Baby sitting you was the wisest decision I ever made. I got a little sister and an awesome mother, all in one.”
“Promise me you'll look out for her?”
“Yeah, of course Sophie.”
There was rapid fire and a splintering sound. “Uh-oh, just gotta - hey, don't ring off Jen – stay with me.” She left her cell on, and he heard it all as it happened. Familiar sounds of battle assaulted him, but this time he was left frustrated and helpless, listening to her distress as she begged staff and slaves to hide behind the barricade and then the shots as revolutionaries picked off helpless slaves who ignored her, looking for rescue. She was panting when she came back to him, in a brief respite. He pictured her holed up, covered in blood, mud and debris, face fixed in a stalwart frown.
“I fell in love, or lust, or maybe a crush, and I had sex. Hot, bed-breaking sex. I'm glad I did that.” Sophie didn't waste breath on small talk.
“Is he with you?”
“I'm pregnant,” she continued over him, “So. I got almost everything. I've done things, been places.”
“What the hell? Why are you there?”
“You're supposed to say 'congratulations',”
He heard the plea in her words, “Congratulations, Soph. I'm an Uncle, right? Do you know if it's a boy or girl? Damn, you're going to need names.”
“I thought Samantha, for a girl, or Jared for a boy, after his daddy.”
It took a minute to process her statement and then he exploded, “Jared? The son? Sophie, why aren't you with him?”
He heard her sniff, “My C.O. said we were chosen specially by the President, that our unit could take the heat for the longest, to get the family out. It's an honor.”
Ross couldn't help shouting, “You are family, that baby is his family. Does he know?”
“He knows. I guess I'm not Presidential daughter-in-law material. Jared's young, he freaked out. I should have been more careful.”
“Son-of-a-bitch! Sophie…”
“Ross, don't lecture, I can't…”
Ross's face was wet with tears but he kept talking, about all the fun he would have with them, day trips to the beach, weekends at Disney World, movies, diapers and sleepless nights. He talked, even after Sophie's last gurgled scream, and after the call got disconnected. He was in a haze for days, returned briefly to Monkota, with fake papers, to hook up with Sophie's ma. They shared countless joints, got high as kites and remembered the good and bad times, in their own private wake.
Jensen twisted wires together and sighed. Revenge was within sight, but the view wasn't the same as he expected. Before it, he had a job to do, and there was no place for personal baggage.
He heard Jared approach, but he didn't look up.
“You're right.” The kid sat heavily on the nearest bunk.
“I was out of order,” Jensen admitted.
You called it like it is, and it hurt. I lost my temper.”
Jensen didn't look up from his task. “You're entitled to do that. I'm not.”
Jared was fiddling with the pen they had used for the crossword, “I think I needed to hear it. I want Pa to like me, but sometimes I need him to be a father. It wasn't always like this. When we were little he would work hard but he had time for us. He would check on my school work, help me with projects. If we misbehaved then it was his job to spank or strap us, but he was fair. I wanted to think the best of him. Jeff, my brother used to tell me all sorts of reasons why ma left him, but back then I never saw anything. I never believed it. Naive, I know,” he shrugged, “I had rose-tinted ideas of how it would be when I came back. He can be a lot of fun, and he never used to show his temper in public. He was always the nice guy, the reasonable man, but it was a front. I should have left the very first time I experienced his rage, but I'm not right in the head. He flogged me and the only thing I could think, through the pain, was, at least he was seeing me, that he cared enough to correct me. Maybe that's why he never did it to me again. I kept rebelling, looking for attention, that he can't give me. He should have punished me, not the people around me. I saw what he was doing and didn't learn. I kept pushing him for it.” He scuffed his foot along the floor, “I still love him. I know it's stupid, but he's my Pa. Can you look at me, Jensen?”
Jensen huffed, and did as he was asked. Jared tipped his head at him, his stare was wide-eyed and genuine, “I was running my mouth about flogging you, but I wouldn't have done it. You didn't do anything wrong. Then, what you did after, when you held me down – it helped. Sometimes, I feel that I'm going to fly apart unless someone stops me. You're the first person to have done that. Like glue, preventing me from shattering.” He was twirling the pen so fast Jensen thought it might take flight, “I spent some time thinking.”
“Got dressed too,” Jensen spoke gruffly.
“Even brushed my hair. Didn't want to disappoint you.” He looked shyly through strands of it. Jensen took another look, because damn, even fully clothed, Jared was a fine view.
Jensen moved to be with him, stroked fingertips over his cheek, “I’m not disappointed, and there's nothing wrong with you. I can give you what you need, if you'll trust me.”
Jared stood and extended a hand to shake, “You can stop me when I'm being unreasonable, and there'll be no more threats,” he promised.
It was easier taking his hand than Jensen expected. He shook it warmly.
“Shall we do this?”
Jared nodded hesitantly. Jensen wound the handle and turned the dial until they found a news program. It was reporting on an international business conference and Jared gave a nervous laugh, “The rest of the world is still going on around us.”
Jensen adjusted the tuner, “I'll try to find something more local, but some will be blacked out.”
They dialed past the government channel, spewing propaganda without mention of an uprising, and settled on a weak signal purportedly broadcasting from a building less than five miles away. Words washed in like waves and broke up, but they heard enough.
“...siege within the President's compound continues…gunfire …ceased…. troops breaking through the cordon formed by revolutionaries…are outgunned and outnumbered, unlikely to hold out...”
They both held their breath until the reporter clarified that it was the government troops who were outgunning the revolutionaries, then Jensen switched the radio off. Jared opened his mouth to argue, and Jensen shushed him. “It's hopeful. There's no more to learn for now. Listening to it, over and over, will only stress us out. We'll work-out, play a game, and check in regularly.”
Jared reluctantly agreed. A game of poker with monopoly money quickly degenerated into friendly insults when Jensen hoarded a full stash of fake cash and laughed at him. They bet 'all-in' on a single, childish game of snap which Jared played with rambunctious enthusiasm and won. Jared scrambled to grab the money and Jensen tackled him to the ground where they wrestled and rolled on a scratchy rug until Jensen triumphantly knelt, straddling Jared's waist and pinning his arms to the floor. A confetti of colorful money was strewn around them and they were both breathing hard. It wasn't all that was hard, noted Jensen. He leaned forward and Jared lifted his head to meet his lingering, soft, kiss. They made out, right there on the floor, and Jared's mouth was the perfect shape for Jensen's, his body fit just right to his body. The way he squirmed into Jensen's hold, whimpered in his ear and begged for more, was everything Jensen needed. Jensen let go and felt it all.
Two hours later, rumpled and breathless, Jared leaned into Jensen, with his head on his shoulder, and they cranked the radio back into life.
“…renewed battle... gunships heard…President has broadcast a short message. The government stands firm…control from safe space…refugees continuing to flood highways from...unconfirmed reports of fresh graves being found...”
Jensen felt Jared flinch and looked around at him. All color had drained from his face as he bit his lip, hard enough to raise a spot of blood.
“Oh! God!”
“Jared?”
Jared remained motionless. Jensen grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Jared, what are they talking about?”
Jared shook his head slowly, as if returning from a trance. “Huh, no, nothing. I don't know. Fin maybe. You didn't use the furnace.”
Jensen thought about it, “I guess, maybe. They said graves, were there more?”
“I don't know, no. It's easy to exaggerate once one is found.”
“There's a war, Jared.” Jensen splayed his hands as if it was obvious.
“He was a registered, marked slave, and I was the last person anyone saw with him, after I lost my temper and whipped you. What is anyone supposed to think?”
The kid had a point. Killing a slave was a lesser crime than murder, but if an owner couldn't prove treason or gross disobedience, it still carried some weight, especially in the international forum where it was a human rights transgression. Jensen put his arm around Jared's waist and kissed the top of his head. His palm rested on the nape of Jared’s neck, to massage the tense muscles, yet his mind couldn't help the little spark of glee at the leverage Fin's death offered. “Stop worrying. There are always rumors like that. You didn't do it, it wasn't your gun, and we're going to get out of here safely. I'm here for you. I saw what happened.”
“Okay, thanks.” Jared relaxed for a moment then tensed again, “But then… Pa…”
“Sshh. You come first. He taught you to tell the truth surely?”
“Yes, but…”
“No excuses, Jared. If it comes to an inquiry, you'll be honest, or so help me, I will put you over my lap and spank you myself,” There was a hard edge to Jensen's threat. The fight left Jared and he nodded dumbly. “Good. Now, you and I are going to find out what weapons are of any use and we are going to break some mirrors and fishing rods to make something that lets us look around corners. It will keep us busy.”
“Breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck.”
“Not having a mirror might be immediate bad luck, and that is fact rather than superstition. Don't be a pussy.”
Jared bristled at the insult and Jensen squeezed the back of his neck tightly, “Let it go! I mean it affectionately.”
Jared leaned into his hold, letting the tension out on a long exhalation of breath. “Yeah, okay. What do I need to do?”
Jensen thought the boy might have some backbone after all.
Part eight
Part Seven
Jared awoke to the aroma of coffee and the familiar comfort of a green eyed slave. “You didn't leave me.” He remembered having Jensen unchained in his bed, and there was a measure of relief in the realization.
“There was breakfast to make. You can't get rid of me that easily, Master,” his slave answered softly.
He reached a hand out to touch Jensen's arm. “Don't. Don't call me that any more. I don't want to be that any more. Not when we're alone.”
“Can't change history, Jared.” Jensen looked sad. “It won't change what I am, but I will try to remember to only use Master in the company of others.”
“Good.” Jared glanced at his watch and his gut twisted with anxiety, “Has nobody come to get us?”
Jensen sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed a tray to him. “No,” he replied simply. He stirred a bowl of thick cereal, and opened a jar of maple syrup. “Obviously there isn't anything fresh, but the oatmeal seems good, and there's orange juice.”
Jared wrapped his fingers around the individual carton and sipped at his juice. It was cold and refreshing but it felt like acid in his stomach. He couldn't understand how Jensen remained so calm. He dabbed the spoon at the oatmeal without eating it. “Where's yours?” he asked.
“I had army rations earlier.”
Jared sat up. Jensen placed pillows to aid him. "What were they like?” He'd seen them in the stores but never tried them.
His slave laughed, “Nutritious but not delicious. It's all good, we'll manage.”
He drizzled maple syrup on the top of his oatmeal, and then stabbed it with his spoon once more. He took two mouthfuls, stirred the rest and pushed the dish aside. He wasn't hungry and his stomach rebelled against every portion. Jensen looked disappointed, so he reassured him, “It's not your cooking. I just can't eat,” explained Jared.
“It was a long day and energetic evening. You have to be hungry, Jared.”
Jared bit his lip. He couldn't help the guilt. He had been fucking while others suffered. Awful images and thoughts raced through his head. “Do you think they're all dead?”
“No, I think they're hiding, like us.”
“But, it's only a matter of time, isn't it? We'll run out of food and water, or they'll come in and get us. Do you think it will be quick? I don't. They'll want it to be public. There were rumors about what they did at the official residence. It's gonna be worse for Pa and for me. I could ask them to go easy on you, but it might make it worse.” Jared’s breath was quickening and a sweat broke on his brow. He felt the dip of the bed, the tray was lifted away, and the warm bulk of Jensen was by his side, arms around his waist, pulling him into a solid embrace.
“Stop! We talked about this. They aren't going to know we're here. If it takes too long we will get out of here and make a run for it together. Now, breathe in.” It was a command.
Jared breathed in.
“Hold it. Now out, slowly, calmly. Repeat.” Jensen breathed with him. Jared's heart gradually steadied and he melted into the warmth and security of the older man. “That's it. Good boy.”
They stayed like that for a while, before Jensen reached to grab the tray again. “You have to stay strong.”
Jared didn't have a moment before the spoon was nudging at his lips, “Open up baby boy, want to see you take all of this.” Jared's mouth opened obediently to take the offered food. For some reason it didn't feel humiliating. It was a token of care, and Jared let Jensen feed him like a baby, and wipe the traces from the side of his mouth with a tissue. “You need someone to look after you,” crooned Jensen.
Jared didn't object, he accepted his mug of coffee from him, warmed his hands around it, snuggled into Jensen's side and drank it slowly.
Fingers carded through his hair. “I warmed some water for you to wash, but it's probably cold by now,” Jensen mentioned.
“I'm not fragile!” protested Jared.
“No, but you're still stressing,” his slave retorted.
“Can we just …maybe stay in bed for now. We could play cards, or there's a book of crosswords. You can find my iPod, it still has some charge, so we can have music. The silence is driving me insane. I can't believe there's no TV.”
Jensen hmphed, “Kids! There are batteries, and solar power is being generated somewhere but it's barely managing the lights. Luckily there are candles if it fails.”
“Oh, right.” It was humbling to have to think about every watt of power. There were towns and villages which regularly blacked out with terrorist action, or simple lack of facilities, and yet, with the exception of his camping trips, he had never been without TV and games. Even then he had music. “Hey!” he almost shouted, “There's a wind-up camping radio in my back pack. I thought we could use it when we were fishing, then I forgot about it. We can hook it into the aerial for the comms unit. We can find out the news.” Jared’s face fell, as he thought about it, “I'm not sure if I'm ready to know.”
Jensen was staring at him with something like open-mouthed amazement, “I didn't pack a radio.”
“No, I found it when I was poking around the lodge earlier. It's one of those gadgets that seemed like a great idea, but we never got around to using.”
Jensen placed a smacking kiss on his cheek. “You're brilliant,” he grinned.
It was a genuine compliment. For the first time that day, some of Jared's tension melted away.
Jensen caved in to his request to wait before using the radio. They curled close in the bed and shouted answers to a crossword puzzle Jared had chosen. Everything about being with Jensen felt right. It felt like love.
“Sexy star of Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Jared chewed his pencil.
“Angelina Jolie,”
“Brad Pitt!” they shouted together.
Jensen dissolved into laughter, “Angelina Jolie. Are you serious?”
“It's what they're looking for,” pouted Jared, showing him the blank spaces.
“Judging by the way you took my cock, she's not what you're looking for eh, baby boy?”
Jared shrugged. Jensen propped himself up on one elbow, to look at him, “You're bi? Have you even been with a woman, Jared?”
“Yeah!” Jared defended himself, but he unconsciously tensed and his self-doubt swirled angrily in his mind. His shoulders dropped with the tone of his voice, “I don't know, I thought I was bi, or I wanted to be. It would be easier. I might be.”
“It's not unusual at your age. Lots of people spend their entire life, confused. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“When, I'm around you, I'm not confused.” It was the truth. Here and now, Jared understood he was gay, or maybe Jensen-sexual. He pressed close to Jensen's side.
Jensen looked thoughtful. “What was the girl like? Was she pretty? Did daddy take you to a brothel to lose your virginity? Was she a slave like me, or like Fin?”
Jared remembered every detail of her. His nails bit into his palms. “She was an employee, not a slave. She was beautiful. She was slim, but not thin, with dark hair, dark eyes, and an attitude.” Jared smiled fondly, “She could kick your ass.”
Jensen's eyes slammed shut and he let out a peculiar gasp. Jared was momentarily terrified that he had offended Jensen, but the older man opened his eyes and smiled at him, “What else? Was she as good at sex as me?”
Jared chuckled, “I was sixteen, she was nineteen. It wasn't Love Story. There is nothing to compare. She was like a sister.” His cheeks colored, “Well, a sister with benefits. It was fun for a while. I think mostly it was an experiment, or to prove that I wasn't gay. In the end I think it confirmed the opposite.”
Jensen's fingers curled into a fist. “What happened?”
“We broke up.” Jared couldn't help the abrupt answer. It hadn't been love, but the details opened a rancid, painful sore.
Jensen's eyebrows rose and his mouth twisted, “Broke-up isn't code for what happened to Fin is it?”
“No! Why would you even …?” Jared was defensive, even if the truth wasn't far from it.
“Sorry. How does the youth of today break up? Did you have an angst-filled heart to heart, or what?” There was something insistent about Jensen's questioning.
This time, Jared flamed with color. He couldn't meet Jensen's gaze. “Text, or lack of it” he murmured. Every word Sophie had typed was burned like a brand on his memory.
J where r u?
Is this u dumping me?
J? pick up
J pls we need to talk
They're close – pls Jay – don't want to die angry with each other-talk 2 me
Pls – need a friendly voice
J? pls
Coward. Bastard. Grow some balls
DIE IN AGONY AND BURN IN HELL JARED PADALECKI
Jared shook himself from the memory, blinked back a tear and put on his best couldn't-give -a-shit face.
“Wow. Text. That's cold.” There was something unsettling in Jensen's reaction and Jared thought he had no right to judge him.
“Wasn't asking the opinion of a slave,” he sneered, before turning his back on him. He didn't know why he had to do that, and silently cursed his adolescent temper.
Jensen stood and Jared heard him walk away, then pause to say, “I guess your relationship skills haven't improved.”
“There's no relationship here Jensen, it's a fuck, not love; you said it yourself.” Jared's mouth was running away with itself and it wouldn't stop.
“Keep kidding yourself, Jared. I'm going to hook up the radio. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from me.” Jensen was cool and tightly controlled. It made Jared furious.
“How dare you tell me what to do! I'll flog you!” he yelled, without thought.
Jensen's reaction was unexpected, out of character for the man he'd got used to. He doubled back and had Jared in some sort of wrestling grip in the blink of an eye. Jared was thrown, terrified and naked, over the bed, with his arm bent painfully and a knee in the small of his back. His slave was remarkably strong and Jared knew he was in trouble. Every threat he could issue was redundant in the circumstances, and he didn't have the remote for Jensen's collar. “Please don't,” Jared begged, without knowing what he was begging for.
He could hear Jensen's teeth grinding and a low growl from his throat, “You're a spoiled brat. You have no idea how to act, no respect, and no control.”
Jared swallowed. He thought it was probably all true. It didn't make his fear and humiliation any less. He couldn't form an answer.
“Mommy treated you like a Prince but she wasn't there to guide you. Daddy likes the idea of an heir but can't be bothered with you. They never had time to praise your achievements, or discipline you, did they?” The pressure reduced on his arm, Jensen hissed his words in Jared's ear. “You wanted acknowledgment, respect and parental guidance so much that you came back to this dump of a country looking for it, and now you know your father isn't capable of any of it, I am the next best thing. It might not be love, but it sure as hell is something. You're not going to punish me, because I can give you what you need, Jared. When you can admit it, come and find me by the comms.”
The weight on his back disappeared and, as quickly as he had subdued Jared, Jensen was gone, leaving him cold, naked and ashamed on the bed. The air rushed from Jared's lungs, taking his fear with it, leaving him calmer and a little aroused. He replayed the scene, trying to understand how Jensen got into his head so easily. None of it made any sense, which was pretty much the story of his life.
The wiring was simple. Ross could fix the entire console if he was inclined, but Jensen wouldn't know where to start. Setting up the aerial for the radio was easy, even for an accountant, so he concentrated on that. His hands were steady, but his fury burned deep. It disturbed him that his focus had shifted. He wanted to hate Jared with the same venom that had fueled him for so long, but it was getting harder all the time. Jared was stupid, selfish and arrogant, yet there was a vulnerability to him, something that attracted Jensen to the boy. There was a sense that Jared was open to change, even waiting for it. Jensen snorted. It was nothing but his inner control freak getting off on a young body ripe for molding. If he even liked him. Which he didn't, not at all. Collateral Damage, he reminded himself. There was no way it ended well for Jared Padalecki, and it was fitting, after all Jared had taken his family from him 11 months, two days and…he checked the time, about 3 hours…earlier.
“Ross?”
“Who is this?” he asked, but he already recognized the pitch and the accent. Christ, he'd missed her.
“Oh, thank goodness. I thought you might have ditched this number. Last time I used it was a year ago, at the zoo.”
She passed the 'not under duress test' with an old password. They'd never been to the zoo.“Soph?”
“Yeah, surprise!” her voice was full of fake cheer and stress.
“You okay? You finally getting out?”
He could hear her choke up, “I guess, sort of. Just thought you'd want to hear my news.”
There was no way the call was a casual catch-up, he let her continue. He thought he could hear the sound of gunfire in the background.
“I got the posting I wanted. Passed the psych, the physical, the lot. Youngest on the President's own security team. You taught me to kick-ass with the best.” It was a proud statement, but there was a shake in her voice.
He was confused, “According to CNN, the President is under attack. Where are you? When did you get out?”
Her reply was barely there, “The family and government needed a diversion. I said I was getting out, and I am.” there was a pause, “The hard way.”
Ross sat bolt upright, “Sophie, I'll come, hold on.”
There was the slightest laugh, “My hero,” she crooned, “There's a full-on battle and it's too late. It's my job, remember? I'm fine with it, really. I just needed to hear your voice.”
His heart splintered, Sophie wasn't the dramatic sort. She was the most capable soldier he knew, and if she said there was no way out, he believed her. He could do this for her. He had to.
“How's your mother?”
“She eloped with a saleswoman, and I'm not even joking. They're very happy, living in a camper van and growing their own weed.”
Jensen's laugh was genuine, “Your mother was always the best. Baby sitting you was the wisest decision I ever made. I got a little sister and an awesome mother, all in one.”
“Promise me you'll look out for her?”
“Yeah, of course Sophie.”
There was rapid fire and a splintering sound. “Uh-oh, just gotta - hey, don't ring off Jen – stay with me.” She left her cell on, and he heard it all as it happened. Familiar sounds of battle assaulted him, but this time he was left frustrated and helpless, listening to her distress as she begged staff and slaves to hide behind the barricade and then the shots as revolutionaries picked off helpless slaves who ignored her, looking for rescue. She was panting when she came back to him, in a brief respite. He pictured her holed up, covered in blood, mud and debris, face fixed in a stalwart frown.
“I fell in love, or lust, or maybe a crush, and I had sex. Hot, bed-breaking sex. I'm glad I did that.” Sophie didn't waste breath on small talk.
“Is he with you?”
“I'm pregnant,” she continued over him, “So. I got almost everything. I've done things, been places.”
“What the hell? Why are you there?”
“You're supposed to say 'congratulations',”
He heard the plea in her words, “Congratulations, Soph. I'm an Uncle, right? Do you know if it's a boy or girl? Damn, you're going to need names.”
“I thought Samantha, for a girl, or Jared for a boy, after his daddy.”
It took a minute to process her statement and then he exploded, “Jared? The son? Sophie, why aren't you with him?”
He heard her sniff, “My C.O. said we were chosen specially by the President, that our unit could take the heat for the longest, to get the family out. It's an honor.”
Ross couldn't help shouting, “You are family, that baby is his family. Does he know?”
“He knows. I guess I'm not Presidential daughter-in-law material. Jared's young, he freaked out. I should have been more careful.”
“Son-of-a-bitch! Sophie…”
“Ross, don't lecture, I can't…”
Ross's face was wet with tears but he kept talking, about all the fun he would have with them, day trips to the beach, weekends at Disney World, movies, diapers and sleepless nights. He talked, even after Sophie's last gurgled scream, and after the call got disconnected. He was in a haze for days, returned briefly to Monkota, with fake papers, to hook up with Sophie's ma. They shared countless joints, got high as kites and remembered the good and bad times, in their own private wake.
Jensen twisted wires together and sighed. Revenge was within sight, but the view wasn't the same as he expected. Before it, he had a job to do, and there was no place for personal baggage.
He heard Jared approach, but he didn't look up.
“You're right.” The kid sat heavily on the nearest bunk.
“I was out of order,” Jensen admitted.
You called it like it is, and it hurt. I lost my temper.”
Jensen didn't look up from his task. “You're entitled to do that. I'm not.”
Jared was fiddling with the pen they had used for the crossword, “I think I needed to hear it. I want Pa to like me, but sometimes I need him to be a father. It wasn't always like this. When we were little he would work hard but he had time for us. He would check on my school work, help me with projects. If we misbehaved then it was his job to spank or strap us, but he was fair. I wanted to think the best of him. Jeff, my brother used to tell me all sorts of reasons why ma left him, but back then I never saw anything. I never believed it. Naive, I know,” he shrugged, “I had rose-tinted ideas of how it would be when I came back. He can be a lot of fun, and he never used to show his temper in public. He was always the nice guy, the reasonable man, but it was a front. I should have left the very first time I experienced his rage, but I'm not right in the head. He flogged me and the only thing I could think, through the pain, was, at least he was seeing me, that he cared enough to correct me. Maybe that's why he never did it to me again. I kept rebelling, looking for attention, that he can't give me. He should have punished me, not the people around me. I saw what he was doing and didn't learn. I kept pushing him for it.” He scuffed his foot along the floor, “I still love him. I know it's stupid, but he's my Pa. Can you look at me, Jensen?”
Jensen huffed, and did as he was asked. Jared tipped his head at him, his stare was wide-eyed and genuine, “I was running my mouth about flogging you, but I wouldn't have done it. You didn't do anything wrong. Then, what you did after, when you held me down – it helped. Sometimes, I feel that I'm going to fly apart unless someone stops me. You're the first person to have done that. Like glue, preventing me from shattering.” He was twirling the pen so fast Jensen thought it might take flight, “I spent some time thinking.”
“Got dressed too,” Jensen spoke gruffly.
“Even brushed my hair. Didn't want to disappoint you.” He looked shyly through strands of it. Jensen took another look, because damn, even fully clothed, Jared was a fine view.
Jensen moved to be with him, stroked fingertips over his cheek, “I’m not disappointed, and there's nothing wrong with you. I can give you what you need, if you'll trust me.”
Jared stood and extended a hand to shake, “You can stop me when I'm being unreasonable, and there'll be no more threats,” he promised.
It was easier taking his hand than Jensen expected. He shook it warmly.
“Shall we do this?”
Jared nodded hesitantly. Jensen wound the handle and turned the dial until they found a news program. It was reporting on an international business conference and Jared gave a nervous laugh, “The rest of the world is still going on around us.”
Jensen adjusted the tuner, “I'll try to find something more local, but some will be blacked out.”
They dialed past the government channel, spewing propaganda without mention of an uprising, and settled on a weak signal purportedly broadcasting from a building less than five miles away. Words washed in like waves and broke up, but they heard enough.
“...siege within the President's compound continues…gunfire …ceased…. troops breaking through the cordon formed by revolutionaries…are outgunned and outnumbered, unlikely to hold out...”
They both held their breath until the reporter clarified that it was the government troops who were outgunning the revolutionaries, then Jensen switched the radio off. Jared opened his mouth to argue, and Jensen shushed him. “It's hopeful. There's no more to learn for now. Listening to it, over and over, will only stress us out. We'll work-out, play a game, and check in regularly.”
Jared reluctantly agreed. A game of poker with monopoly money quickly degenerated into friendly insults when Jensen hoarded a full stash of fake cash and laughed at him. They bet 'all-in' on a single, childish game of snap which Jared played with rambunctious enthusiasm and won. Jared scrambled to grab the money and Jensen tackled him to the ground where they wrestled and rolled on a scratchy rug until Jensen triumphantly knelt, straddling Jared's waist and pinning his arms to the floor. A confetti of colorful money was strewn around them and they were both breathing hard. It wasn't all that was hard, noted Jensen. He leaned forward and Jared lifted his head to meet his lingering, soft, kiss. They made out, right there on the floor, and Jared's mouth was the perfect shape for Jensen's, his body fit just right to his body. The way he squirmed into Jensen's hold, whimpered in his ear and begged for more, was everything Jensen needed. Jensen let go and felt it all.
Two hours later, rumpled and breathless, Jared leaned into Jensen, with his head on his shoulder, and they cranked the radio back into life.
“…renewed battle... gunships heard…President has broadcast a short message. The government stands firm…control from safe space…refugees continuing to flood highways from...unconfirmed reports of fresh graves being found...”
Jensen felt Jared flinch and looked around at him. All color had drained from his face as he bit his lip, hard enough to raise a spot of blood.
“Oh! God!”
“Jared?”
Jared remained motionless. Jensen grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Jared, what are they talking about?”
Jared shook his head slowly, as if returning from a trance. “Huh, no, nothing. I don't know. Fin maybe. You didn't use the furnace.”
Jensen thought about it, “I guess, maybe. They said graves, were there more?”
“I don't know, no. It's easy to exaggerate once one is found.”
“There's a war, Jared.” Jensen splayed his hands as if it was obvious.
“He was a registered, marked slave, and I was the last person anyone saw with him, after I lost my temper and whipped you. What is anyone supposed to think?”
The kid had a point. Killing a slave was a lesser crime than murder, but if an owner couldn't prove treason or gross disobedience, it still carried some weight, especially in the international forum where it was a human rights transgression. Jensen put his arm around Jared's waist and kissed the top of his head. His palm rested on the nape of Jared’s neck, to massage the tense muscles, yet his mind couldn't help the little spark of glee at the leverage Fin's death offered. “Stop worrying. There are always rumors like that. You didn't do it, it wasn't your gun, and we're going to get out of here safely. I'm here for you. I saw what happened.”
“Okay, thanks.” Jared relaxed for a moment then tensed again, “But then… Pa…”
“Sshh. You come first. He taught you to tell the truth surely?”
“Yes, but…”
“No excuses, Jared. If it comes to an inquiry, you'll be honest, or so help me, I will put you over my lap and spank you myself,” There was a hard edge to Jensen's threat. The fight left Jared and he nodded dumbly. “Good. Now, you and I are going to find out what weapons are of any use and we are going to break some mirrors and fishing rods to make something that lets us look around corners. It will keep us busy.”
“Breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck.”
“Not having a mirror might be immediate bad luck, and that is fact rather than superstition. Don't be a pussy.”
Jared bristled at the insult and Jensen squeezed the back of his neck tightly, “Let it go! I mean it affectionately.”
Jared leaned into his hold, letting the tension out on a long exhalation of breath. “Yeah, okay. What do I need to do?”
Jensen thought the boy might have some backbone after all.
Part eight