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agt_spookyWell, folks here it is. My longest fanfic story EVER. :-)
The idea for this came after I was watching an episode of Cops that was all about domestic violence. I've always found it difficult to understand why someone would stay in an abusive relationship, so how could I make Jensen a victim and make it believable?
I don't want anyone to think that Jensen is a wimp, cowering in the corner getting beat up. He's a strong man who feels that the abusive relationship is of his own making, his punishment for a perceived mistake.
Even if you feel this might not be your type of story, I ask that you give it a shot. Because even though the abuse is the catalyst that brings Jensen and Jared together, the story is about so much more than that.
Thanks, and enjoy.
Title: Shadows in His Eyes
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agt_spooky
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 45,121
Genre: Police AU
Warnings/Spoilers: domestic violence themes
Disclaimer: It’s RPS, people. It never happened, but I wish it would. :-)
Author’s Notes: Many thanks tosn_24lover, charityflint and queeberquabbler for their beta work and invaluable input. Thank you for being my cheerleaders!
Summary: For K-9 Officer Jared Padalecki, transferring from the San Antonio police department to the elite L.A.P.D. was a dream come true. He nearly forgets he’s in Hollywood until he responds to a 911 call that brings him to the home of actor Jensen Ackles.
It appeared that Jensen had it all – a career that was on fire and a loving, long-term relationship with his partner, Mark. But then Jared uncovers the truth that Jensen had been trying to hide, and the illusion comes crashing down.
Can Jared help Jensen break free of a life he’s convinced he deserves before it’s too late, and in the process help them both find love?
(banner by agt_spooky)
Shadows in His Eyes
By AgtSpooky
February 22, 2010
There’s something about you,
I wanna rescue
I don’t even know you
So what does that mean?
- Bon Jovi, “Superman Tonight”
A small smile played across the face of L.A.P.D. officer Jared Padalecki as he gazed out the open passenger side window of his squad car. Life is good, he thought as he breathed in the warm California air, the bright lights of Hollywood illuminating the night sky all around him. Jared let the small smile turn into a full fledged grin. Tonight marked the accomplishment of a goal it had taken him months to achieve – his last day of field training. Come Monday morning he’d be on his own as a K-9 patrol officer, this time for the Los Angeles Police Department.
It’d been a long road to get here, a long way from the San Antonio Police Department where Jared had gotten his start in law enforcement three years ago in the K-9 division. Jared was proud to wear the police uniform of his hometown, but it had always been his goal to work for the elite L.A.P.D. So when he heard about the opening in the canine unit, he had immediately put in for a transfer.
That was six months ago. During that time Jared had gone through a rigorous interview process and psychological screening before being accepted, along with his partner Harley, into the L.A.P.D. After that it was packing up and leaving home, leaving his family, and entering into the academy for 18 weeks of training. For even though Jared was already a cop, he needed to learn the way the L.A.P.D. wanted things done. It was hard work, more like boot camp than anything, but Jared excelled, graduating at the top of his class.
But he wasn’t ready to hit the streets quite yet. For the next month he and Harley worked with the L.A.P.D. K-9 instructor, proving that the bull mastiff was just as good an officer as his master.
Then it was finally time for he and Harley to be assigned their squad car, their call sign and their beat, and begin their month of field training with Sergeant Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Jeff was an excellent FTO officer, committed to the job and drilling into the rookies valuable knowledge that could save their lives. Jeff was tough, but underneath that gruff exterior was a warm, funny guy, and he and Jared hit it off pretty much right from the start.
Jared raked his fingers through his wind-blown shaggy brown hair, and turned to look at Jeff in the driver’s seat.
“Shift’s almost over, Sarge. Gonna give me an A+ on my final eval?” Jared smiled.
Jeff glanced over at Jared. “Oh, there’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Padalecki,” he grinned.
Jared chuckled and looked over his shoulder through the mesh grating at Harley, laying in the backseat. “It just pains him to admit I’ve been his best rookie ever, right, boy?” he said, and the big dog gave a small wuff as a response.
Before Jeff could reply, the radio crackled to life with a series of beeps, drawing both men’s attention, Harley’s ears perking up at the familiar sound.
Over the speaker came the voice of Maggie, one of the dispatchers. “Six-Adam-Twelve.”
Jeff snagged the mic and depressed the button. “Six-Adam-Twelve, go.”
“Six-Adam-Twelve…Code 242 at 441 Highland Avenue. Please respond.”
Jared saw Jeff’s jaw tighten. “Six-Adam-Twelve, responding,” the sergeant answered Maggie, shaking his head and muttering, “Great,” as he replaced the mic back in its cradle.
Jared’s cop sense immediately started tingling. “Something tells me you’ve been out there before,” he said, needing to know if there was a repeat offender in his beat. “Battery call then, too?”
Jeff sighed and nodded. “This is the third domestic call out there in four months.”
Now it was Jared’s jaw that tightened. “What’s the story?”
“House belongs to Jensen Ackles, who’s regularly getting beaten up by his partner, Mark Fisher, whenever Mark gets high. Ackles is never the one that calls, it’s usually the neighbor, and Ackles never presses charges. So we do it for him.”
Jared’s jaw dropped open and he sagged back against the seat, trying to process what Jeff had just said. Jensen Ackles…the actor that Jared just happened to be a fan of, and admired, for years now. And if truth be told, a fanboy crush on as well.
Like Jared, Jensen was a Texas boy, from Richardson, near Dallas. Jensen had started on the soaps when he was just a teenager, winning several Daytime Emmy awards before making the leap to dramas in his early twenties. He was on several hit shows in a row for the next six years, then decided to jump to the big screen and a movie career while his star was on the rise. It was a smart move. His first movie was a hit and his popularity jumped. He was on the verge of becoming a huge star, and his next movie, due out in about six months, should do it for him, if the early buzz was anything to go by. At age 31, Jensen seemed to have it all – a skyrocketing career, and a long-term, loving relationship with Mark Fisher.
Or obviously not so loving, as Jared was finding out, despite all the photos and red carpet appearances that showed them as a happy couple, holding hands and smiling.
“Jensen Ackles? I just…I can’t believe it,” Jared said in disbelief, shaking his head.
“Pick up your jaw, kid,” Jeff told him as he flipped on the lights and sirens and Harley started barking. “You’re in Hollywood now.”
~*~*~*~
There was already one other squad car at the Ackles residence when Jeff and Jared arrived, Jared recognizing the squad number as belonging to Officer Brady and Officer Oatley. Leaving Harley in the car, much to the dog’s dismay, Jared exited the vehicle and automatically smoothed his hands down his chest, straightening his dark blue uniform over his Kevlar vest, then adjusted his heavy gun belt.
He took in the scene quickly as he approached the house – Officer Claudia Brady was out front, standing near the steps leading up to the front porch, talking to Jensen Ackles, who was seated on the steps, a towel pressed to his left cheek. The front door was open, and Jared could hear the voices of two men inside - Officer Andrew Oatley and Mark Fisher. And standing on the edge of Jensen’s yard was another man, watching intently at everything going on, his arms crossed over his chest, a frown on his face. Had to be the neighbor that called 911.
Officer Brady turned as Jeff and Jared walked up, her short blonde ponytail bobbing with the movement. “Sarge,” she nodded at Jeff.
Jeff nodded back. “Brady. You mind letting Padalecki take over?”
Officer Brady shook her head and flipped her small notebook closed, tucking her pen back in her shirt pocket. “Not at all, sir. Maybe he’ll have better luck getting something out of him,” she replied, cocking her head toward Jensen, then went to step past Jared, knocking her fist on his arm. “You got this, rookie,” she grinned in encouragement, then went inside the house to join her partner.
For a moment Jared froze, staring down at the man he’d seen so many times on his television and in the movie theaters, not really believing he was standing in front of him. Jensen was dressed casually in a gray Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, well-worn blue jeans and gym shoes. His short hair looked soft to the touch, free of the gel that usually made it stand up in short spikes. His eyes flitted up to Jared’s then away, as he lowered the towel from his face.
One look at the angry cut on Jensen’s cheek and Jared was immediately all cop, pushing aside his awe at being two feet from his favorite actor.
“Mr. Ackles, I’m Officer Padalecki and this is Sergeant Morgan,” Jared said, taking out his own notebook and pen. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”
Jensen again wouldn’t meet Jared’s gaze, looking off to his left instead. “Nothing,” he said flatly.
“Nothing?” Jared cocked his head, pointing at Jensen’s face. “How did you get that cut on your face, then?” he asked, his voice soft and even.
A brief look at Jared, then away. “I tripped and fell down the steps, okay?” Jensen answered defensively.
“Bullshit!”
Jared’s head whipped to the right, to the man at the edge of Jensen’s yard who had just uttered the curse. The man stepped forward as Jared took a step toward him. He was much shorter than Jared’s six-foot-four frame, with a stocky, muscular build and long hair. And he was pissed.
“Bullshit!” the man swore again, pointing. “I saw him hit you, Jensen! I saw him kick you after he knocked you down!”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jensen jump up and Jeff put a hand on his chest to prevent Jensen from going any further.
Jared put his hand up in front of the other man. “Sir, I need you to calm down and tell me who you are.”
The shorter man took a deep breath and looked away from Jensen. “I’m Christian Kane. I live next door.”
Jared wrote Kane’s name in his notebook. “And what exactly did you see tonight?”
Kane’s voice was controlled anger. “I was just coming home, walking up to the house when I saw Jensen and that asshole Mark come out. Jensen was going toward his car and Mark was screaming at him about God knows what. Jensen was ignoring him, so Mark grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and hauled off and punched him in the face. Jensen went down, then that bastard kicked him in the stomach.”
Jared nodded, jaw tight as he wrote down the information in his notebook. “And was it you that called 911?”
“You bet your ass I did,” Kane answered forcefully.
“Goddamn it, Chris!” Jensen yelled, still held back by Jeff, green eyes flashing in anger. “Mind your own damn business!”
“I won’t!” Kane yelled back. “Not when I see it happen right in front of me!” Then he swallowed and his voice dropped several octaves. “You’re my friend, Jen. I can’t stand to see you treated like that.”
Jensen’s anger deflated at Kane’s sincere words, and he opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Officers Brady and Oately came out of the house with a handcuffed Mark Fisher between them. He tried to lunge at Jensen, but Oatley and Brady held him back, while Jeff stepped between he and Jensen.
“Screw you, Jensen!” Mark spat, struggling against the officer’s grips. “How could you do this!? Have me arrested?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m sor-“ he began but Jeff cut him off.
“No. Don’t say it,” Jeff told him, voice hard, then turned toward the blonde man in handcuffs, whose blue eyes were dilated.
“You know very well the L.A.P.D. can press charges even if the victim doesn’t if there’s evidence of domestic violence, Fisher. This isn’t your first rodeo.” Jeff nodded at Brady and Oatley. “Get him out of here,” he told them, then turned back to Jensen as the two officers put a still struggling Mark Fisher into the back of their squad car.
“What’s he on?” Jeff asked Jensen wearily. “Is it coke again?”
Jensen looked down and away, nodding, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Jeff sighed. “You’ve got to get away from him, Jensen,” he told the injured man, then walked over to Jared and Kane.
“I’ll take Christian’s statement,” Jeff said to Jared. “You go finish up with Jensen.”
“Sure, Sarge,” Jared replied, then beckoned Jensen to follow him over to his squad.
“Do you need medical to come out and look at that cut?” Jared asked Jensen.
“No!” The other man sharply shook his head, then lowered his voice. “No, I’m fine, really. I don’t…I don’t need anyone else out here,” he finished, glancing up and down his block.
Jared nodded. “Okay, but be sure to clean it and put some ice on it to keep the swelling down.”
Jensen was quiet for a moment, just looking at Jared curiously with a question in his eyes. “Thanks,” he finally replied. “I will.”
It was the first time that Jensen had actually looked at Jared for more than a split second and Jared found himself holding the older man’s gaze, feeling a sudden, sharp connection to the other man, while staring into green eyes that were filled with shame and embarrassment.
“Sergeant Morgan was right,” Jared said quietly. “You need to get away from Fisher. Don’t go down to the jail and bail him out tonight.” He popped open the trunk on the squad and opened his briefcase that was inside. He shuffled through a stack of papers before pulling out several and closing the trunk.
He held out a few of the sheets to Jensen. “This is how to go about getting a restraining order. Since it’s Friday night Fisher won’t be able to go before a judge until Monday morning at the earliest for sentencing. If you fill this out and get the paperwork going he can’t come back here if the judge cuts him loose.” He handed Jensen another sheet of paper. “This is information on a victim’s advocacy group that the L.A.P.D. uses.” He paused, voice imploring, “Call them. There are support groups and counseling available if you just ask.” He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a card, then impulsively scribbled a number on the back. “Here, this is my card, if you have any questions…or if you just want to talk. I put my cell number on the back.”
Again Jensen remained quiet with that same question in his eyes. But this time he asked it. “Why do you care what happens to me? You don’t even know me. Aren’t I just another case number and pile of paperwork to you?”
Jared shook his head. “I became a cop to help people, not just strut around with a badge and a gun, acting like a tough-ass.” He paused, glancing down at the ground, then back up at Jensen. “And I know first hand how this kind of violence can destroy people. No one deserves to be treated like this. And there are ways out.” He reached out, his hand curling around Jensen’s upper arm. “Please. Fill out the restraining order.”
And there it was again, that wide green gaze looking back at him, that connection pulling at him from deep inside. And Jensen was staring back at him just as intensely, causing Jared’s stomach to twist and flutter.
The moment was broken when Jeff approached, closing his notebook. “Are we finished here?” he asked.
Jared blinked, dropping his hand from Jensen’s shoulder. “Umm…yeah, Sarge,” he answered, backing away from Jensen, who remained silent as Jared climbed into the passenger side of the squad. But he never broke eye contact with Jared, even as the squad pulled away into the dark.
~*~*~*~
Jared didn’t sleep that night.
He lay in his bed on his back, staring up blankly at the ceiling in his dark room, Harley’s heavy weight pressed up all along his side. He absently stroked the big dog’s belly as he replayed over and over in his mind the events of tonight with Jensen Ackles.
How did a man like that end up in an abusive relationship? Being a fan of Jensen’s for years he naively thought he knew the older man. He’d watched and read countless interviews with him, had seen him with Mark Fisher at many events over the past three years, looking like the picture perfect happy couple. Little did he, or anyone else, apparently, know what was really going on between them.
He respected and admired Jensen – a solid, down-to-earth Texas boy who never let the Hollywood life corrupt him, who put family above all else, and was a gifted and talented actor – and the thought of him going through this tore at Jared. He had to convince Jensen to leave Mark. His gut was giving him a sense of foreboding, telling him he needed to intervene. And he knew by now, with his many years on the police force, to trust his instincts. But he also knew convincing anyone in an abusive relationship to leave their abuser was a massive uphill battle. They all had their reasons for staying and Jared knew all too personally what the end result could be.
He’d never forgive himself if he let the same thing happen to Jensen.
~*~*~*~
The next morning found Jared driving back out to Jensen’s house, with Harley in the backseat, his large head sticking out the window, happy as a clam to be going for a ride. Jared almost always drove with the radio on, singing along – badly – to his favorite songs, but the ride out to Hollywood was spent in silence, Jared going over and over in his head exactly what he wanted to say to Jensen.
Pulling into the actor’s driveway twenty five minutes later, Jared sat for a moment and took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of his truck. He let Harley out of the backseat, clipped his leash to the dog’s collar and walked them both up to Jensen’s front steps, where he looped the leash around the railing. He climbed the steps, then paused before knocking, wondering what he’d do if Fisher answered the door, having been bailed out by Jensen.
But to his relief it was Jensen himself who answered his knock and stood in the open doorway. He was barefoot, wearing khaki cargo shorts and a plain maroon t-shirt today. The cut on his face was an angry red with a vivid bruise now surrounding it, and Jared unconsciously clenched his fist at the sight.
Jensen’s brows drew together in confusion. “Officer Padalecki?”
Jared smiled at the official title. “No uniform today. Name’s Jared, Mr. Ackles.”
Jensen’s mouth quirked slightly. “That always sounds like my father. Please, call me Jensen. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could come in for a few minutes,” Jared asked.
“Umm, sure, yeah,” Jensen answered, stepping aside, and Jared walked into the house.
Jensen’s home was large, but had a comfortable, relaxed feeling to it. The living room held an overstuffed leather couch and two chairs, with a rough hewn wood coffee table between them. Above the couch hung a breathtaking oil painting of a sunset across a desert landscape. A fireplace was along one wall, the mantle holding several framed photographs, flanked by two bookcases. On the opposite wall was an entertainment center that contained a flat screen TV, DVD player and stereo. The house wasn’t flashy or Hollywood pretentious, exactly what Jared would expect from a Texas boy like himself.
Jared stepped into the living room, not seeing or hearing any sign of Mark inside as Jensen closed the door behind them, then moved to stand across from Jared.
“I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing,” Jared started, and again that same curious look crossed Jensen’s face, just like last night, like he couldn’t believe any one cared about him. “And to see if you’d filled out the paperwork for the restraining order.”
At that Jensen’s face closed up. “I’m fine,” he replied curtly. “And no, I’m not filling out the paperwork.” He went to move around Jared, to open the front door, but Jared stopped him with a hand on his forearm. The skin to skin contact was like a little electric spark that raced through Jared’s entire body. It startled him, and from the way Jensen was looking at him, the older man had felt it, too.
“Please,” Jared said softly. “Give me five minutes.”
For a long moment Jensen remained silent, and Jared thought for sure the other man was going to show him the door, but then Jensen nodded slowly and took a step backwards, breaking their contact, leaving Jared’s fingertips tingling.
Jensen turned and led Jared through the living room to the large kitchen, to the bright breakfast nook filled with morning sunshine. He indicated for Jared to sit, then pulled out his own chair on the opposite side of the round table.
Jared took a long breath, remembering all that he wanted to say to Jensen. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years,” he started. “I’ve seen countless pictures of you and Mark together, how happy you both looked.” At this Jensen looked down and away, but remained silent, so Jared continued. “But after last night I know that’s not true. At least not anymore. You have to know that this relationship isn’t healthy.” Jared spread his hands out. “I just…I don’t understand why you stay. You don’t fit the mold that nine out of ten abuse victims do – that you’re dependent on your abuser. They have no job, they have children, they wouldn’t have anywhere to live, they’re smaller physically and can’t defend themselves.” As Jared ticked off the points on his fingers he could see Jensen becoming uncomfortable, but he pressed on. “But you’re none of those things. You’re the successful independent one and you could easily take down Fisher in a fight.”
Agitated now, Jensen pushed back from the table, scraping his chair across the floor. “You don’t understand,” he told Jared through clenched teeth, standing with his fists balled up at his sides.
“Then help me to understand,” Jared implored.
“It’s my fault! I deserve this!” Jensen yelled.
Jared closed his eyes and shook his head. “Every abuse victim says this, Jensen, and it’s not true,” he said gently. “You’ve done nothing to deserve this, no matter what Fisher told you.”
Jensen shook his head, green eyes brimming with guilt. “I’m the one that got him hooked on cocaine! I deserve this, it’s my punishment!”
At Jensen’s words Jared went absolutely rigid. He couldn’t believe that Jensen was a drug addict. “How long have you been doing drugs?” he asked, voice stone cold.
Jensen shook his head, pacing. “Never. I’d never touch that shit.”
Jared relaxed his posture at Jensen’s answer, but it left him confused. “Then how are you responsible for Mark’s habit?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m done talking,” he said tightly. “Please, just go.”
Jared stood, playing his trump card now that Jensen had shut him down. “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that the police may have been out here three times, but Fisher has hit you more often than that. It’s only been three times that someone’s seen or heard it.” He paused, swallowing, voice rough. “Just like my older sister. Her husband ended up killing her.” He let the statement hang for a moment, watching as Jensen’s face registered the gravity of what he’d just said. “Mark is going to escalate, I can guarantee it, especially being on cocaine, and I…I don’t want to see you end up like my sister,” Jared finished, voice wavering slightly.
And with that sobering thought, Jared turned and walked out of the house, leaving Jensen standing stock still in the middle of his kitchen.
~*~*~*~
It was another sleepless night for Jared.
He kept telling himself he’d done all he could for Jensen. Like the situation with his sister, he knew that you couldn’t force a person to leave their abuser. But it didn’t stop him from being distracted the rest of the day and tossing and turning all night.
Sunday morning dawned clear and bright, and a bleary-eyed Jared stumbled from his rumpled bed toward the shower, nearly tripping over Harley, who was ready for his morning run and training session. His master, however, was anything but.
“In a minute, boy,” Jared mumbled, scratching the dog behind his ears with one hand, while scrubbing the other over his own face. Harley seemed to accept the answer and stretched out across the entire bathroom doorway, where Jared found him still patiently waiting ten minutes later, when Jared emerged from the shower, now feeling much more human.
After a quick cup of coffee and the realization that breakfast would have to wait since his pantry and refrigerator were pretty much empty, Jared opened his sliding glass patio door and stepped outside.
Truth be told, Jared’s backyard looked like a junkyard at first glance. But it was actually a training area for Harley, with crates and pallets, garbage cans, the back half of a 1967 Chevy Impala, a small refrigerator, several tires and various other items.
K-9 training was constant, seven days a week. Harley’s skills needed to always be top-notch. To the big dog it wasn’t training, though, it was a game, and one he loved to play. While his partner was inside, Jared placed several scent bags throughout the yard, hidden in the garbage can, the refrigerator and in the trunk of the car. Each was a different smell – cocaine, marijuana and gunpowder – that Harley needed to find. And when he did so successfully he got Jared’s praise and his favorite orange rubber ball to chase as a reward.
Stepping back inside the house, Jared clipped Harley’s short leash to his collar and led him out into the backyard. “Ready to work?” he asked the dog and Harley barked happily in reply.
He took Harley to one end of the yard. “Sit,” he told him firmly and the dog instantly obeyed. After another moment, sure that Harley was focused, Jared issued another command. “Seek drugs, Harley. Seek.”
The dog’s ears perked up immediately and he stood and started sniffing the nearest object, Jared leading him from one to another, working their way down the yard. When they got to the garbage can, Harley immediately gave his alert – he sat, barked once and scratched at the can with one paw.
“Good boy, Harley! Good boy!” Jared responded, grabbing his partner by his large head and playfully shaking him back and forth. Harley’s tail started wagging madly as Jared withdrew the orange rubber ball from his pocket and threw it to the opposite end of the yard. Harley took off after it with a high bark, catching it in his mouth as it bounced off the back end of the car. He brought it back to Jared, and the two started the process all over again, until Harley had located all three scent bags.
Next he brought out the dog whistle. It wasn’t a tool that was used often, but having Harley be able to take commands by non-verbal means was a useful skill.
Last were Harley’s agility exercises. The K-9 dogs were frequently called upon to enter a house and locate a suspect, and that sometimes meant being lifted through windows and having to crawl through tight spaces in basements or attics. Or having to jump over fences in the pursuit of a fleeing suspect.
So Jared put Harley through his paces, having his partner crawl through a dark, flexible tunnel, jump over several hurdles and practice being lifted up and over objects.
As always, Harley performed his tasks with flying colors and was rewarded not only with his rubber ball but several dog treats as well. Then it was time for the dog’s other favorite part of the day – his morning run with Jared.
They hit the trail in the park down the block from Jared’s house, setting a brisk pace, feet and paws hitting the gravel in a smooth rhythm. Running was a big part of Jared’s life. It was his quiet time, when he cleared everything from his head, pushed all his stress away.
Except for today. For no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard and how fast he ran, he couldn’t get the image of a pair of green eyes filled with shadows and pain from the forefront of his mind.
~*~*~*~
A few hours later Jared pushed open his front door, juggling grocery bags and trying to step around a dog who could smell his new bag of food.
“Sorry, boy, but you already ate your breakfast,” Jared said a bit distractedly as he put the bags on the kitchen counter and started looking around for his cell phone. He realized he didn’t have it with him while he was at the store, and was afraid he’d dropped it somewhere.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it on his dresser, but it was short lived when he saw he had a voicemail. Hoping it wasn’t the station trying to get a hold of him for some reason, he pressed the button…and nearly dropped the phone in astonishment when he heard Jensen’s voice.
“Jared, this is Jensen. I, um…I wanted to thank you for coming over here yesterday and checking on me. You didn’t need to do that and it…it meant a lot. I’m sorry for the way I acted, telling you to leave when you were only trying to help. Mark…he’s been calling from the jail, demanding I come bail him out. But after what you told me…about your sister…that was the eye opener I needed. I wanted to let you know I’ve decided to go ahead with the restraining order. Just…thanks, Jared. For everything.”
Jared stared at the phone in silence for long moments, absorbing what Jensen had just said, feeling like a giant weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He knew he should just call Jensen back, tell him how glad he was that he was taking the first step in getting Fisher out of his life, but ten seconds later he was in his truck with Harley driving out to Jensen’s house in Hollywood.
This time when Jensen opened the front door he greeted Jared with a smile that said he wasn’t surprised to see the policeman on his porch. “Hey, Jared.”
“Hey, Jensen,” Jared smiled back. “I, um..I got your voicemail. And I know I should’ve just called you back…” he trailed off.
“No, it’s…it’s good to see you. I’m glad you stopped by,” Jensen answered sincerely. “C’mon in.”
“Um, actually I was on my way to go grab an early lunch and take Harley to the dog park to let him run for a bit,” he replied, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to his partner, sitting patiently at the bottom of the stairs. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Oh…” Jensen hesitated, and Jared felt like shooting himself in the head. What was he thinking? Jensen was a celebrity for crying out loud! Like he’d want to be seen with a nobody like Jared.
“I’m sorry,” Jared backpedaled quickly. “I shouldn’t have…”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Jensen cut him off. “I’d love to go with you, but with my face looking like this, the last thing I need is some paparazzi seeing me and having my picture splashed across the tabloids tomorrow. I don’t need this…situation with Mark to come out.”
Jared again wanted to shoot himself in the head. “Right, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”
Jensen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Listen, I can’t go anywhere, but I’ve got two steaks in the fridge and a grill out back. And Harley can have the run of the yard. Would that work?”
Jared smiled. “You got beer?”
Jensen cocked his head. “I’m from Texas. What do you think?”
Jared laughed and called over his shoulder, “Harley, come!” and the big dog bounded up the steps, instantly jumping up on Jensen, nearly knocking the other man over.
“Jensen, meet my partner, Harley,” Jared grinned.
Jensen chuckled. With Harley’s paws on his shoulders he was looking directly into the dog’s face. “Nice to meet you, Harley,” he said, and patted the dog affectionately on its side.
“Okay, Harley, down,” Jared told his partner and as always, he instantly obeyed.
“C’mon in,” Jensen told them, and stepped aside to let them in the house.
Jensen was barefoot again today, the ends of his faded jeans just brushing the floor as he padded through the living room and kitchen, Jared and Harley following behind. Jensen went to the far end of the spacious kitchen and opened up the French doors that led outside.
“Wow…” Jared breathed.
Jensen’s backyard was twice the size of Jared’s. Surrounded by a high security fence, half of the space was green grass, large plants, trees and beautiful flowers in every color of the rainbow. The other half of the yard was taken up by a large in-ground swimming pool, complete with Jacuzzi.
“This is amazing,” Jared told Jensen as the two men stepped out onto the large deck that held patio furniture and a barbeque grill.
“Thanks,” Jensen answered. “I spend a lot of time out here when I’m home. Can I get you that beer?”
“Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” Jared replied, taking Harley’s orange rubber ball out of his pocket and throwing it out into the yard. Harley gave a happy bark and took off after it at top speed.
Jared sat down on one of the patio chairs as Jensen came back outside with two beers and the marinated steaks on a plate, along with two foil-wrapped potatoes. He handed the bottles to Jared and Jared smirked at the label – LoneStar. Yep, you could take the boy out of Texas but not take Texas out of the boy. Just like him.
Jared popped the cap off the bottle and took a long swallow of the cold beer as Jensen set about firing up the grill and getting the steaks and potatoes on before the older man joined Jared at the patio table. They sat in silence for several minutes, watching Harley out in the yard before Jensen turned to Jared.
“Thanks again for coming by yesterday,” he said softly. “If you hadn’t told me about your sister I wouldn’t be going through with the restraining order.”
“Do you want to talk about it? About Mark?” Jared asked cautiously. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener. You’ve kept this bottled up for a long time, I’m guessing.”
Jensen huffed out a breath and glanced away. “Yeah, you could say that,” he began, then hesitated, getting up to check on the steaks again.
Jared waited patiently, knowing from on the job experience how difficult it could be for abuse victims to open up. He was hoping that even though he and Jensen had just met, he’d feel comfortable enough talking to him, if he felt the same kind of connection between them that Jared did.
Jensen sat back down and started absently picking at the label on his beer bottle, not quite meeting Jared’s eyes. “I met Mark three years ago,” he began slowly, and Jared let out a quiet, relieved breath that Jensen decided to confide in him.
“I moved in here and Mark installed my alarm system. He was here for a few days and things just…clicked between us. We started dating. For two years everything was perfect,” Jensen smiled wistfully. “My career was finally taking off and Mark was my biggest supporter. Always by my side.”
Jensen sighed. “Then Mark’s company downsized and he lost his job. His bills started piling up and he was struggling to pay the rent on his apartment, so I asked him to move in with me. I didn’t have a problem supporting him while he tried to find another job. And because I was gone more and more often, filming, doing PR work, I gave him access to one of my bank accounts so he’d have some money.”
Jared couldn’t help the soft noise he made at that, and Jensen nodded. “I know. It ended up being the mistake that started everything.” He swallowed hard then pushed back from the table, going back over to the grill. He came back with their steaks and potatoes, then went back into the house and came out with two more beers, plates, and silverware.
They ate for a bit, and Jared didn’t push Jensen to keep talking, he needed to let him tell his story at his own pace.
“The Hollywood party scene was never my thing,” Jensen began again. “But it’s a necessary evil in this business to meet the right people, make the right contacts. I always took Mark with me, but too many times I left him on his own as I talked to a producer or director. At first I was glad that he was still enjoying himself, meeting people, having a good time. What I didn’t know until it was too late was that he’d fallen in with a group whose hobby was recreational drug use.”
Jensen stood, agitated, pacing back and forth. “I was too wrapped up in myself, in making my stupid Hollywood dream come true, not paying attention to Mark or my dwindling bank account as he used my money to buy drugs.”
He stopped pacing and gripped back of his chair. “Then one day I came home early from filming and found him high on coke. At first I was stunned, and then I was furious. We’d never fought like that before, up in each other’s faces, and it ended when he punched me for the first time.”
Jared sighed deeply. “Jensen, you can’t blame yourself for this. He’s an adult, he made his own choices – “
“No! I did this to him, Jared!” Jensen yelled, voice choked. “I gave him access to the drugs, I ignored him, and this is what happened.” Jensen took a breath. “I’ve been trying to help him, to fix this, to make up for how I treated him. But he’s so hooked on the coke… Every time he lost control…every bruise he gave me was a reminder that I failed him.”
Jared closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the waves of guilt radiating off the other man. “Have you tried getting him professional help?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, I’ve paid twice to have him attend a discreet rehab facility. He’s okay for a month or two, then he’s right back using again.”
Jared splayed his hands out. “You’ve done all you can, Jensen. You’ve got to stop punishing yourself. He’s made his choices, over and over again.”
Jensen released a long breath, shoulders sagging. “I know. I know that now.” He locked eyes with Jared. “But do you understand my feelings of guilt, why I didn’t want to give up on him? We were happy for a long time.”
Jared nodded slowly, debating asking the next question, if he might be pushing things, but he felt an unexplainable urge to know. “Do you still love him?”
Jensen looked away from Jared, out into the yard, and silence reigned for long moments until Jensen shook his head. “Not for a long time now,” he admitted in a whisper.
For reasons he couldn’t yet explain, the relief Jared felt from Jensen’s words was overwhelming. “Can I ask how long all this has been going on? You’re photographed pretty frequently but until Friday night I never saw a bruise on you.”
Jensen stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s been going on for about a year. And no, Mark was smart. He knew I was his meal ticket and if I reported to set with a black eye and all of this came out, the scandal would tank my career, and my cash flow.”
He paused and pulled up the bottom of his navy blue t-shirt, exposing several old bruises, now turned yellowish-green, and one fresh one from Friday night, scattering across his ribs and stomach. “He never hit where anyone could see, until he slipped up Friday night.”
Jared was instantly sick to his stomach, looking in horror at all of Jensen’s injuries. “Jesus…Jensen…” he breathed.
“I never thought it would be anymore than this or this,” Jensen said, indicating his chest and face, letting his shirt fall back down. “The thought of him actually killing me was never even a thought, until you told me about your sister. It was the wakeup call I needed, that I’d done all I could for Mark and it was time to start thinking about myself.” He smiled, his green eyes warm and open. “Thank you, Jared. I think you probably saved my life.”
Jared’s breath caught in his throat, making him unable to speak, or to look away from the man standing across from him until Jensen blinked, releasing him, and Jared finally took a breath.
Jensen pulled out his chair and sat back down. He leaned toward Jared, arms resting on the table top. “Can I ask…what happened to your sister?”
Jared nodded. It was only fair that he share his story, too. He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, withdrawing a well-worn photo and passing it across to Jensen. It was he and Megan on the last summer vacation they ever took together as a family, smiling up into their father’s camera.
“It happened when I was thirteen and she was twenty,” Jared began. “She was always the wild child, hanging with the wrong crowd, driving my parents crazy. She got mixed up with a guy that was nothing but trouble, but she was in love with him.” He sighed. “They got married despite my parent’s protests. He was a drinker and the abuse started pretty quickly. We tried to get her to leave him, but she kept saying he apologized, said he’d never do it again.” Jared shook his head, eyes sad. “And she believed him. Next thing we know he’s moving her to New Mexico, away from her friends and family, her support system.”
Jared had to pause, swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat. “We had no idea how bad it had gotten until it was too late. Until my parents got a call at 2 am telling us that Megan was dead, stabbed to death,” he finished, voice ragged with the pain of the memory.
Jensen’s eyes reflected his sorrow. “My God, I’m so sorry. Is that why you decided to become a cop?”
Jared cleared his throat. “Partly, yeah. But it is why I can’t walk away from domestic abuse cases.”
Jensen’s reply was soft and heartfelt. “I’m glad you don’t. Thank you for not giving up on me.”
There it was again, that pull, that connection, in the way Jensen was looking at him so intensely. The moment hung there in the afternoon sunshine, hazel eyes locked with green, Jared’s stomach giving a familiar flutter, broken only when Harley suddenly gave a yip out in the yard. Jared released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he and Jensen turned to look over at the dog, who was leaping up into the air for no apparent reason.
“Is he right in the head?” Jensen asked playfully, confused at the dog’s antics.
Jared cocked his head. “Some say it’s what makes us the perfect partners,” he deadpanned and Jensen grinned back in amusement, shaking his head.
The sound of a patio door opening and closing next door at Chris Kane’s house drew their attention, and a moment later the soft strains of a guitar were heard on the summer breeze.
“He’s a musician, eh?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, and a darn good one,” Jensen answered. “It’s how we met, actually. His band was playing at a network party I was at six years ago. I play guitar a bit, too, and wanted to complement him. We ended up talking at the bar for four hours that night,” Jensen smiled. “Been friends ever since. He’s the one that told me about this house going up for sale.”
Jensen paused. “I went over and apologized to him for how I acted Friday night. He did the right thing by calling the police.”
“He cares about you. It’s good to have friends like that.”
Jensen nodded. “And I hardly have any, so I need to hang on to the ones I’ve got.”
Jared gave a surprised laugh. “You? Mr. Hollywood Actor? No friends? I find that hard to believe.”
Jensen’s sigh was long. “In this business you don’t have many true friends. Everyone always wants something from you. They don’t really want to know you, just what you can do for them. It can get pretty damn lonely, honestly.”
And Jared could hear the loneliness in Jensen’s words and all he wanted to do was take it away, to be someone who’d always be there for him.
Jared’s words were quiet, sincere. “I’d like to be your friend…if I could.”
Jensen’s shy smile was like the sun breaking through a cloudy day. “Yeah…yeah, I’d like that.”
“Actually…” Jared struggled not to grin. “Could I get your autograph?”
He was hoping for another smile out of Jensen, but the full blown laugh he got startled him so much he didn’t even try to dodge the beer bottle cap Jensen flicked at his forehead. In a split second Jensen’s entire face changed from tired and world weary to…beautiful. And it took Jared’s breath away.
Jensen smiled and shook his head, but then sobered. “Actually, you can,” he told Jared, then rose from the table and went inside. He reappeared a minute later with a pen and several pieces of paper that Jared recognized as the restraining order paperwork. Jensen scrawled his signature at the bottom of each page, then slid them across to Jared without a word. Their fingers brushed, sending a tingle up Jared’s arm as he locked eyes with Jensen.
And for the first time he saw something new in their green depths…trust.
~*~*~*~
Later that night, back at home, Jared was on his computer, checking his email. He was about to shut down the machine when he paused, and instead opened up YouTube. He did a search on Jensen’s name, looking for a particular video clip. He found it a minute later and pulled up Jensen’s last red carpet appearance, about nine months ago at the premiere of his last movie, Mark Fisher by his side. He’d seen this clip before, and back then all he saw was a successful actor smiling for the camera, holding hands with the man he loved.
But now Jared could see the shadows behind Jensen’s eyes and how his smile never quite reached them.
~*~*~*~
It should’ve been another typical Monday morning. It was sunny and hot, per the usual California weather, the sunshine streaming in through Jared’s bedroom window, glinting off his badge as he put on his uniform. But today wasn’t just any Monday. Today Jared had his final meeting with Sergeant Morgan, who would either give him the go-ahead to begin patrols on his own, or assign him an extended period of field training.
Jared took a deep breath and studied himself in his bedroom mirror. He felt he’d done well this past month during his training with Jeff, but L.A.P.D. standards were a lot different than San Antonio’s and he hoped he’d measured up.
He glanced down at his side, where Harley waited patiently, his own badge, clipped to his collar, shining in the sunlight as well.
He hoped they both measured up.
In about thirty minutes he’d find out.
~*~*~*~
Jared cleared his throat and knocked on the open door of Jeff’s office twenty minutes later, having deposited Harley in the station’s kennel first.
The sergeant looked up from his paperwork and motioned Jared inside. “Ah, Padalecki, have a seat.”
Jared nodded and sat ramrod straight on the edge of the chair, trying to tramp down the internal butterflies dancing in his stomach.
Jeff chuckled at Jared’s pose. “Relax,” he told him and Jared let his shoulders sag a bit and sat back further in the chair.
Jeff opened up a red file folder, containing Jared’s evaluation paperwork. “You’re a hard worker, Padalecki,” he began. “You brought with you your experience from San Antonio and it shows. You’ve got excellent instincts and adapt well to each changing situation you find yourself in. You also work seamlessly with your partner and with other members of this department.”
He slid a set of car keys across the desk with a smile. “Congratulations, rookie. You’re now a full-fledged part of this team.”
Jared didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he pulled in a relieved lungful.
“Thank you, Sarge,” he grinned from ear to ear. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” Jeff smiled in return, then pointed a finger at him. “Just don’t get cocky. You know you’re still on probation for the next six months.” He closed Jared’s file then hooked his thumb toward the door. “Now hit the streets.”
Jared jumped up, snagging the keys and giving Jeff a mock salute. “Yes sir, Sergeant Morgan, sir,” he joked, then practically sprinted from the office, leaving Jeff shaking his head in mock exasperation.
~*~*~*~
Hours later Jared and Harley were patrolling the streets of their beat, Jared’s excitement at finally being on his own having diminished due to the fact that nothing was happening that day. He was eager to tackle his first solo call, but the citizens of Hollywood were behaving themselves that day. He hadn’t even written a speeding ticket all day.
No sooner had a disappointed sigh passed his lips when his radio suddenly issued a series of beeps.
“Six-Adam-Twelve.”
Harley sat up in the backseat as Jared snagged the mic. “Six-Adam-Twelve, go,” he responded to Amy, another one of their dispatchers, feeling his pulse start to quicken.
“Six-Adam-Twelve…Six-Adam-Nineteen is 10-38 at Fountain and La Brea, requesting K-9 assistance. Please respond.”
“10-4. Six-Adam-Twelve, responding.”
Jared’s smile was as bright as the sun as he looked over his shoulder at Harley. “Showtime,” he told his partner, flipping on the lights and sirens, his partner’s excited barking filling the squad car.
~*~*~*~
They arrived on the scene minutes later, Jared’s keen eyes taking in everything at once. Officers Paul Chen and Ray Parker had a dark green SUV pulled over, the male driver handcuffed and seated on the curb. Parker was watching over him while Chen was searching the vehicle.
Jared pulled his squad up in front of the SUV and got out, leaving a disappointed Harley in the backseat, eager to work.
“Paul,” Jared nodded as he approached. “What’ve we got?”
Officer Chen crawled out of the backseat. “Thanks for coming, Jared. We got a solid tip this guy is in the process of transporting a large quantity of cocaine, but Parker and I have come up empty. I mean, take a look in here.”
Chen moved out of the way and Jared looked inside the SUV, wrinkling up his nose in disgust. The odor of rotten food assailed his nose first and foremost, as he took in the multitude of discarded wrappers, bags and cups. Garbage in general littered the entire vehicle, interspersed with clothing, blankets and empty cigarette packs. Jared straightened back up and looked over at the suspect, noting that the man’s disheveled appearance matched that of his vehicle. Here was someone who lived in his car.
“Okay, let me get my partner,” Jared said, then reached down to his gun belt and pressed a button on what looked like a garage door opener. It was a device that allowed Jared to remotely open the backdoor on his squad, releasing Harley. It was an invaluable tool should Jared ever find himself out of his squad and in jeopardy, in need of his partner.
Harley bounded out in an instant, trotting obediently to Jared’s side. Jared reached down and took hold of Harley’s collar. “Ready to work, boy?” he asked, then took Harley up to the front of the SUV.
“Seek drugs, Harley. Seek drugs,” he told the dog and Harley immediately put his nose to the grill of the vehicle and began sniffing.
Jared and Harley made a slow circle all the way around the SUV with no alert from his partner. He then opened up the back and Harley jumped inside, nosing through the debris, but not alerting. Jared repeated the process in the backseat, but still nothing from Harley.
It was a different story in the front seat, however. Within seconds Harley barked, sat down and began pawing at the radio. Jared looked at Chen and nodded in satisfaction. “Harley, out!”
After Harley had jumped down, Chen began prying at the front panel of the radio, using the conveniently located screwdriver on the passenger seat. Minutes later he had the radio pulled out and was reaching around inside the open space.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore, emerging with three bags of cocaine, packaged for distribution.
Jared immediately turned to his partner, dropping down on one knee, a huge smile on his face. “Good boy, Harley! Good boy!” he praised the dog, playfully shaking his head, patting him on his side. Harley barked and licked at Jared’s face, pleased that he’d won the game.
“Good job yourself, rookie,” Chen grinned and shook Jared’s hand.
Jared stepped back and let Chen and Parker finish up, breathing deeply, a huge weight off his shoulders. He looked down at Harley with pride in his eyes. They’d proved with their first solo call that they deserved to wear the badge of the L.A.P.D., and there was no better feeling in the world.
~*~*~*~
On lunch break later that afternoon, Jared was sitting on a park bench, enjoying his chili dog with Harley lounging at his feet when his cell phone rang. He quickly wiped off his hands and fished his phone from his pants pocket, smiling at the name on the display.
“Hey, Jensen.”
“Jared, hey. I’m sorry I’m calling you while you’re working.”
“No, perfect timing. I’m on my lunch break. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know what was going on. I couldn’t take the chance and let anyone see me at Mark’s sentencing this morning, so Chris volunteered to go. He told me that the judge got serious, said that because this is Mark’s third offense for the same charge he’s sentencing him to six months in the county jail this time.”
And here Jared didn’t think the day could’ve possibly gotten any better. “Jensen…God, that’s great news. It’s good to know he’s going to have to suffer the consequences of what he did to you. How are you feeling about all this?”
He heard Jensen sigh. “I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, to tell you the truth. Things have been moving kinda fast since Friday. Still trying to wrap my head around everything, you know? But Chris…” Jared could hear him smile now. “Chris knows exactly what he’s feeling, and insists we celebrate tonight by building a bonfire in my backyard and burning all of Mark’s clothes. Please say you’ll come over after your shift and be my backup in case Chris breaks out the matches.”
Jared couldn’t help but laugh. “Deal. I’ll even bring the beer.”
~*~*~*~
By eight o’clock that night Jared was comfortably ensconced in a patio chair on Jensen’s deck, beer in hand, Chris Kane sitting next to him. They were watching Jensen in the yard with Harley, man and dog playfully wrestling in the grass. Each time Jensen laughed a feeling of warmth blossomed in Jared’s chest.
“Thank you.”
Jared turned to look at Chris. “For what?”
Chris indicated his head toward Jensen. “For finally being the one to put a smile on his face.”
Jared could feel his own face heating up and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, well…you played a part, too. You didn’t give up on him, either.”
Chris nodded and clinked his beer bottle with Jared’s. “I’m just glad this nightmare seems to finally be over for him.” He looked pointedly at Jared. “He deserves someone who will never hurt him again.”
Jared could hear the double meaning in Chris’s words and was pinned by the other man’s intense gaze, broken only when Jensen walked up onto the deck.
“You were right, Jared,” Jensen grinned. “The more time I spend with Harley the more I realize how similar you two really are.”
Chris chuckled as he stood. “Get you boys another beer?” he asked, heading toward the house and received two nods.
“You look good,” Jared said softly as Jensen settled into the chair on the opposite side of him. The cut on Jensen’s face was healing nicely, no longer an angry red, and even the vivid bruising was fading. “Relaxed.”
Jensen nodded slowly. “I feel good. Now,” he answered. “Been turning this jail thing with Mark over and over in my head all day. Letting go of the guilt. Telling myself that he deserves it and that I need all these months away from him to get my life back on track. A fresh start.”
“Good advice,” Jared agreed. “Speaking of that – I checked on your restraining order paperwork today. It’s been processed and Fisher will be informed about it in jail. He does have a legal right to come back here when he’s released to collect his personal belongings, so I suggest you start packing up his things now and store them in the garage. That way when he comes back he can just take the boxes and leave. And if you want I can be here, officially.”
“I’d really appreciate that, Jared, thanks. Could I ask a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Are you busy this weekend? I’d like to get started boxing up Mark’s things, and I know if I do it myself I’ll end up lingering over every freakin’ shirt and book, and probably end up depressing myself. I need someone impartial who can just pick stuff up and put it in a box.”
Jared smiled. “I’d be happy to help,” he answered, then changed the subject. “So, are you going to be here in L.A. for awhile?”
Jensen nodded. “Yep, I’ve got some downtime for the next several months, before I start up PR work for Dark Highway.”
“Man, I can’t wait to see that. From what I’ve heard you’re amazing in it,” Jared gushed, watching as a faint, embarrassed blush stained Jensen’s cheeks.
“Okay, boys, here we go,” Chris said, reappearing from the house with three beer bottles in one hand and a guitar in the other.
Jensen started shaking his head. “Oh, no, no.”
“Don’t even give me that crap,” Chris replied without heat, holding out the guitar to Jensen. “We had a deal, my friend.”
“Deal?” Jared asked curiously.
“Jen here agreed to sing with me a bit tonight if I promised not to start a bonfire in the middle of his yard,” Chris explained.
Turning toward Jensen, Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “You sing and play guitar? I’ve been a fan of yours for years. How did I not know this?”
Jensen shot Chris a look, but took the guitar. “Because I’m not good at either so I kinda keep it to myself.”
“Oh, bullshit. You’re damn good, son,” Chris replied, snagging his own guitar from where it had been resting against the railing of the deck and strummed a chord. “Let’s let Jared here decide for himself, shall we?”
Five minutes later Jared had indeed decided for himself and come down firmly on Chris’s side of the matter. Jensen was a talented musician and Jared was mesmerized.
Chris’s voice was smooth and rich and deep, while Jensen’s slightly higher pitched voice complemented the other man’s in perfect harmony. They sang songs about love and hope and dreams, filling the summer night with beautiful music, and Jared simply could not take his eyes off of Jensen. And each time Jensen locked eyes with him, Jared’s stomach flipped.
It was then he realized with certainty that his fanboy crush was turning into something much deeper.
~*~*~*~
Jared looked at his watch for the umpteenth time in the past hour, urging the minute hand to go just a bit faster. It’d been a long week, and he was looking forward to getting off his shift in half an hour and heading over to Jensen’s. They’d talked on the phone frequently since Monday night, but it wasn’t the same as actually sitting on Jensen’s deck, sharing a beer with the older man.
He was roused from his musings by the beeping of his radio, and Amy’s voice.
“Six-Adam-Twelve.”
“Six-Adam-Twelve, go,” he quickly responded.
“Six-Adam-Twelve…10-32 at 157 North Cherokee, requesting K-9 assistance. Please respond.”
“10-4. Six-Adam-Twelve, responding.”
Man with a gun. Jared felt his heart start to beat faster as he flipped on his lights and sirens and hit the gas.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER TWO
The idea for this came after I was watching an episode of Cops that was all about domestic violence. I've always found it difficult to understand why someone would stay in an abusive relationship, so how could I make Jensen a victim and make it believable?
I don't want anyone to think that Jensen is a wimp, cowering in the corner getting beat up. He's a strong man who feels that the abusive relationship is of his own making, his punishment for a perceived mistake.
Even if you feel this might not be your type of story, I ask that you give it a shot. Because even though the abuse is the catalyst that brings Jensen and Jared together, the story is about so much more than that.
Thanks, and enjoy.
Title: Shadows in His Eyes
Author:
agt_spookyPairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 45,121
Genre: Police AU
Warnings/Spoilers: domestic violence themes
Disclaimer: It’s RPS, people. It never happened, but I wish it would. :-)
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to
sn_24lover, charityflint and queeberquabbler for their beta work and invaluable input. Thank you for being my cheerleaders!Summary: For K-9 Officer Jared Padalecki, transferring from the San Antonio police department to the elite L.A.P.D. was a dream come true. He nearly forgets he’s in Hollywood until he responds to a 911 call that brings him to the home of actor Jensen Ackles.
It appeared that Jensen had it all – a career that was on fire and a loving, long-term relationship with his partner, Mark. But then Jared uncovers the truth that Jensen had been trying to hide, and the illusion comes crashing down.
Can Jared help Jensen break free of a life he’s convinced he deserves before it’s too late, and in the process help them both find love?
agt_spooky)By AgtSpooky
February 22, 2010
I wanna rescue
I don’t even know you
So what does that mean?
- Bon Jovi, “Superman Tonight”
A small smile played across the face of L.A.P.D. officer Jared Padalecki as he gazed out the open passenger side window of his squad car. Life is good, he thought as he breathed in the warm California air, the bright lights of Hollywood illuminating the night sky all around him. Jared let the small smile turn into a full fledged grin. Tonight marked the accomplishment of a goal it had taken him months to achieve – his last day of field training. Come Monday morning he’d be on his own as a K-9 patrol officer, this time for the Los Angeles Police Department.
It’d been a long road to get here, a long way from the San Antonio Police Department where Jared had gotten his start in law enforcement three years ago in the K-9 division. Jared was proud to wear the police uniform of his hometown, but it had always been his goal to work for the elite L.A.P.D. So when he heard about the opening in the canine unit, he had immediately put in for a transfer.
That was six months ago. During that time Jared had gone through a rigorous interview process and psychological screening before being accepted, along with his partner Harley, into the L.A.P.D. After that it was packing up and leaving home, leaving his family, and entering into the academy for 18 weeks of training. For even though Jared was already a cop, he needed to learn the way the L.A.P.D. wanted things done. It was hard work, more like boot camp than anything, but Jared excelled, graduating at the top of his class.
But he wasn’t ready to hit the streets quite yet. For the next month he and Harley worked with the L.A.P.D. K-9 instructor, proving that the bull mastiff was just as good an officer as his master.
Then it was finally time for he and Harley to be assigned their squad car, their call sign and their beat, and begin their month of field training with Sergeant Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Jeff was an excellent FTO officer, committed to the job and drilling into the rookies valuable knowledge that could save their lives. Jeff was tough, but underneath that gruff exterior was a warm, funny guy, and he and Jared hit it off pretty much right from the start.
Jared raked his fingers through his wind-blown shaggy brown hair, and turned to look at Jeff in the driver’s seat.
“Shift’s almost over, Sarge. Gonna give me an A+ on my final eval?” Jared smiled.
Jeff glanced over at Jared. “Oh, there’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Padalecki,” he grinned.
Jared chuckled and looked over his shoulder through the mesh grating at Harley, laying in the backseat. “It just pains him to admit I’ve been his best rookie ever, right, boy?” he said, and the big dog gave a small wuff as a response.
Before Jeff could reply, the radio crackled to life with a series of beeps, drawing both men’s attention, Harley’s ears perking up at the familiar sound.
Over the speaker came the voice of Maggie, one of the dispatchers. “Six-Adam-Twelve.”
Jeff snagged the mic and depressed the button. “Six-Adam-Twelve, go.”
“Six-Adam-Twelve…Code 242 at 441 Highland Avenue. Please respond.”
Jared saw Jeff’s jaw tighten. “Six-Adam-Twelve, responding,” the sergeant answered Maggie, shaking his head and muttering, “Great,” as he replaced the mic back in its cradle.
Jared’s cop sense immediately started tingling. “Something tells me you’ve been out there before,” he said, needing to know if there was a repeat offender in his beat. “Battery call then, too?”
Jeff sighed and nodded. “This is the third domestic call out there in four months.”
Now it was Jared’s jaw that tightened. “What’s the story?”
“House belongs to Jensen Ackles, who’s regularly getting beaten up by his partner, Mark Fisher, whenever Mark gets high. Ackles is never the one that calls, it’s usually the neighbor, and Ackles never presses charges. So we do it for him.”
Jared’s jaw dropped open and he sagged back against the seat, trying to process what Jeff had just said. Jensen Ackles…the actor that Jared just happened to be a fan of, and admired, for years now. And if truth be told, a fanboy crush on as well.
Like Jared, Jensen was a Texas boy, from Richardson, near Dallas. Jensen had started on the soaps when he was just a teenager, winning several Daytime Emmy awards before making the leap to dramas in his early twenties. He was on several hit shows in a row for the next six years, then decided to jump to the big screen and a movie career while his star was on the rise. It was a smart move. His first movie was a hit and his popularity jumped. He was on the verge of becoming a huge star, and his next movie, due out in about six months, should do it for him, if the early buzz was anything to go by. At age 31, Jensen seemed to have it all – a skyrocketing career, and a long-term, loving relationship with Mark Fisher.
Or obviously not so loving, as Jared was finding out, despite all the photos and red carpet appearances that showed them as a happy couple, holding hands and smiling.
“Jensen Ackles? I just…I can’t believe it,” Jared said in disbelief, shaking his head.
“Pick up your jaw, kid,” Jeff told him as he flipped on the lights and sirens and Harley started barking. “You’re in Hollywood now.”
~*~*~*~
There was already one other squad car at the Ackles residence when Jeff and Jared arrived, Jared recognizing the squad number as belonging to Officer Brady and Officer Oatley. Leaving Harley in the car, much to the dog’s dismay, Jared exited the vehicle and automatically smoothed his hands down his chest, straightening his dark blue uniform over his Kevlar vest, then adjusted his heavy gun belt.
He took in the scene quickly as he approached the house – Officer Claudia Brady was out front, standing near the steps leading up to the front porch, talking to Jensen Ackles, who was seated on the steps, a towel pressed to his left cheek. The front door was open, and Jared could hear the voices of two men inside - Officer Andrew Oatley and Mark Fisher. And standing on the edge of Jensen’s yard was another man, watching intently at everything going on, his arms crossed over his chest, a frown on his face. Had to be the neighbor that called 911.
Officer Brady turned as Jeff and Jared walked up, her short blonde ponytail bobbing with the movement. “Sarge,” she nodded at Jeff.
Jeff nodded back. “Brady. You mind letting Padalecki take over?”
Officer Brady shook her head and flipped her small notebook closed, tucking her pen back in her shirt pocket. “Not at all, sir. Maybe he’ll have better luck getting something out of him,” she replied, cocking her head toward Jensen, then went to step past Jared, knocking her fist on his arm. “You got this, rookie,” she grinned in encouragement, then went inside the house to join her partner.
For a moment Jared froze, staring down at the man he’d seen so many times on his television and in the movie theaters, not really believing he was standing in front of him. Jensen was dressed casually in a gray Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, well-worn blue jeans and gym shoes. His short hair looked soft to the touch, free of the gel that usually made it stand up in short spikes. His eyes flitted up to Jared’s then away, as he lowered the towel from his face.
One look at the angry cut on Jensen’s cheek and Jared was immediately all cop, pushing aside his awe at being two feet from his favorite actor.
“Mr. Ackles, I’m Officer Padalecki and this is Sergeant Morgan,” Jared said, taking out his own notebook and pen. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”
Jensen again wouldn’t meet Jared’s gaze, looking off to his left instead. “Nothing,” he said flatly.
“Nothing?” Jared cocked his head, pointing at Jensen’s face. “How did you get that cut on your face, then?” he asked, his voice soft and even.
A brief look at Jared, then away. “I tripped and fell down the steps, okay?” Jensen answered defensively.
“Bullshit!”
Jared’s head whipped to the right, to the man at the edge of Jensen’s yard who had just uttered the curse. The man stepped forward as Jared took a step toward him. He was much shorter than Jared’s six-foot-four frame, with a stocky, muscular build and long hair. And he was pissed.
“Bullshit!” the man swore again, pointing. “I saw him hit you, Jensen! I saw him kick you after he knocked you down!”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jensen jump up and Jeff put a hand on his chest to prevent Jensen from going any further.
Jared put his hand up in front of the other man. “Sir, I need you to calm down and tell me who you are.”
The shorter man took a deep breath and looked away from Jensen. “I’m Christian Kane. I live next door.”
Jared wrote Kane’s name in his notebook. “And what exactly did you see tonight?”
Kane’s voice was controlled anger. “I was just coming home, walking up to the house when I saw Jensen and that asshole Mark come out. Jensen was going toward his car and Mark was screaming at him about God knows what. Jensen was ignoring him, so Mark grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and hauled off and punched him in the face. Jensen went down, then that bastard kicked him in the stomach.”
Jared nodded, jaw tight as he wrote down the information in his notebook. “And was it you that called 911?”
“You bet your ass I did,” Kane answered forcefully.
“Goddamn it, Chris!” Jensen yelled, still held back by Jeff, green eyes flashing in anger. “Mind your own damn business!”
“I won’t!” Kane yelled back. “Not when I see it happen right in front of me!” Then he swallowed and his voice dropped several octaves. “You’re my friend, Jen. I can’t stand to see you treated like that.”
Jensen’s anger deflated at Kane’s sincere words, and he opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Officers Brady and Oately came out of the house with a handcuffed Mark Fisher between them. He tried to lunge at Jensen, but Oatley and Brady held him back, while Jeff stepped between he and Jensen.
“Screw you, Jensen!” Mark spat, struggling against the officer’s grips. “How could you do this!? Have me arrested?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m sor-“ he began but Jeff cut him off.
“No. Don’t say it,” Jeff told him, voice hard, then turned toward the blonde man in handcuffs, whose blue eyes were dilated.
“You know very well the L.A.P.D. can press charges even if the victim doesn’t if there’s evidence of domestic violence, Fisher. This isn’t your first rodeo.” Jeff nodded at Brady and Oatley. “Get him out of here,” he told them, then turned back to Jensen as the two officers put a still struggling Mark Fisher into the back of their squad car.
“What’s he on?” Jeff asked Jensen wearily. “Is it coke again?”
Jensen looked down and away, nodding, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Jeff sighed. “You’ve got to get away from him, Jensen,” he told the injured man, then walked over to Jared and Kane.
“I’ll take Christian’s statement,” Jeff said to Jared. “You go finish up with Jensen.”
“Sure, Sarge,” Jared replied, then beckoned Jensen to follow him over to his squad.
“Do you need medical to come out and look at that cut?” Jared asked Jensen.
“No!” The other man sharply shook his head, then lowered his voice. “No, I’m fine, really. I don’t…I don’t need anyone else out here,” he finished, glancing up and down his block.
Jared nodded. “Okay, but be sure to clean it and put some ice on it to keep the swelling down.”
Jensen was quiet for a moment, just looking at Jared curiously with a question in his eyes. “Thanks,” he finally replied. “I will.”
It was the first time that Jensen had actually looked at Jared for more than a split second and Jared found himself holding the older man’s gaze, feeling a sudden, sharp connection to the other man, while staring into green eyes that were filled with shame and embarrassment.
“Sergeant Morgan was right,” Jared said quietly. “You need to get away from Fisher. Don’t go down to the jail and bail him out tonight.” He popped open the trunk on the squad and opened his briefcase that was inside. He shuffled through a stack of papers before pulling out several and closing the trunk.
He held out a few of the sheets to Jensen. “This is how to go about getting a restraining order. Since it’s Friday night Fisher won’t be able to go before a judge until Monday morning at the earliest for sentencing. If you fill this out and get the paperwork going he can’t come back here if the judge cuts him loose.” He handed Jensen another sheet of paper. “This is information on a victim’s advocacy group that the L.A.P.D. uses.” He paused, voice imploring, “Call them. There are support groups and counseling available if you just ask.” He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a card, then impulsively scribbled a number on the back. “Here, this is my card, if you have any questions…or if you just want to talk. I put my cell number on the back.”
Again Jensen remained quiet with that same question in his eyes. But this time he asked it. “Why do you care what happens to me? You don’t even know me. Aren’t I just another case number and pile of paperwork to you?”
Jared shook his head. “I became a cop to help people, not just strut around with a badge and a gun, acting like a tough-ass.” He paused, glancing down at the ground, then back up at Jensen. “And I know first hand how this kind of violence can destroy people. No one deserves to be treated like this. And there are ways out.” He reached out, his hand curling around Jensen’s upper arm. “Please. Fill out the restraining order.”
And there it was again, that wide green gaze looking back at him, that connection pulling at him from deep inside. And Jensen was staring back at him just as intensely, causing Jared’s stomach to twist and flutter.
The moment was broken when Jeff approached, closing his notebook. “Are we finished here?” he asked.
Jared blinked, dropping his hand from Jensen’s shoulder. “Umm…yeah, Sarge,” he answered, backing away from Jensen, who remained silent as Jared climbed into the passenger side of the squad. But he never broke eye contact with Jared, even as the squad pulled away into the dark.
~*~*~*~
Jared didn’t sleep that night.
He lay in his bed on his back, staring up blankly at the ceiling in his dark room, Harley’s heavy weight pressed up all along his side. He absently stroked the big dog’s belly as he replayed over and over in his mind the events of tonight with Jensen Ackles.
How did a man like that end up in an abusive relationship? Being a fan of Jensen’s for years he naively thought he knew the older man. He’d watched and read countless interviews with him, had seen him with Mark Fisher at many events over the past three years, looking like the picture perfect happy couple. Little did he, or anyone else, apparently, know what was really going on between them.
He respected and admired Jensen – a solid, down-to-earth Texas boy who never let the Hollywood life corrupt him, who put family above all else, and was a gifted and talented actor – and the thought of him going through this tore at Jared. He had to convince Jensen to leave Mark. His gut was giving him a sense of foreboding, telling him he needed to intervene. And he knew by now, with his many years on the police force, to trust his instincts. But he also knew convincing anyone in an abusive relationship to leave their abuser was a massive uphill battle. They all had their reasons for staying and Jared knew all too personally what the end result could be.
He’d never forgive himself if he let the same thing happen to Jensen.
~*~*~*~
The next morning found Jared driving back out to Jensen’s house, with Harley in the backseat, his large head sticking out the window, happy as a clam to be going for a ride. Jared almost always drove with the radio on, singing along – badly – to his favorite songs, but the ride out to Hollywood was spent in silence, Jared going over and over in his head exactly what he wanted to say to Jensen.
Pulling into the actor’s driveway twenty five minutes later, Jared sat for a moment and took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of his truck. He let Harley out of the backseat, clipped his leash to the dog’s collar and walked them both up to Jensen’s front steps, where he looped the leash around the railing. He climbed the steps, then paused before knocking, wondering what he’d do if Fisher answered the door, having been bailed out by Jensen.
But to his relief it was Jensen himself who answered his knock and stood in the open doorway. He was barefoot, wearing khaki cargo shorts and a plain maroon t-shirt today. The cut on his face was an angry red with a vivid bruise now surrounding it, and Jared unconsciously clenched his fist at the sight.
Jensen’s brows drew together in confusion. “Officer Padalecki?”
Jared smiled at the official title. “No uniform today. Name’s Jared, Mr. Ackles.”
Jensen’s mouth quirked slightly. “That always sounds like my father. Please, call me Jensen. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could come in for a few minutes,” Jared asked.
“Umm, sure, yeah,” Jensen answered, stepping aside, and Jared walked into the house.
Jensen’s home was large, but had a comfortable, relaxed feeling to it. The living room held an overstuffed leather couch and two chairs, with a rough hewn wood coffee table between them. Above the couch hung a breathtaking oil painting of a sunset across a desert landscape. A fireplace was along one wall, the mantle holding several framed photographs, flanked by two bookcases. On the opposite wall was an entertainment center that contained a flat screen TV, DVD player and stereo. The house wasn’t flashy or Hollywood pretentious, exactly what Jared would expect from a Texas boy like himself.
Jared stepped into the living room, not seeing or hearing any sign of Mark inside as Jensen closed the door behind them, then moved to stand across from Jared.
“I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing,” Jared started, and again that same curious look crossed Jensen’s face, just like last night, like he couldn’t believe any one cared about him. “And to see if you’d filled out the paperwork for the restraining order.”
At that Jensen’s face closed up. “I’m fine,” he replied curtly. “And no, I’m not filling out the paperwork.” He went to move around Jared, to open the front door, but Jared stopped him with a hand on his forearm. The skin to skin contact was like a little electric spark that raced through Jared’s entire body. It startled him, and from the way Jensen was looking at him, the older man had felt it, too.
“Please,” Jared said softly. “Give me five minutes.”
For a long moment Jensen remained silent, and Jared thought for sure the other man was going to show him the door, but then Jensen nodded slowly and took a step backwards, breaking their contact, leaving Jared’s fingertips tingling.
Jensen turned and led Jared through the living room to the large kitchen, to the bright breakfast nook filled with morning sunshine. He indicated for Jared to sit, then pulled out his own chair on the opposite side of the round table.
Jared took a long breath, remembering all that he wanted to say to Jensen. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years,” he started. “I’ve seen countless pictures of you and Mark together, how happy you both looked.” At this Jensen looked down and away, but remained silent, so Jared continued. “But after last night I know that’s not true. At least not anymore. You have to know that this relationship isn’t healthy.” Jared spread his hands out. “I just…I don’t understand why you stay. You don’t fit the mold that nine out of ten abuse victims do – that you’re dependent on your abuser. They have no job, they have children, they wouldn’t have anywhere to live, they’re smaller physically and can’t defend themselves.” As Jared ticked off the points on his fingers he could see Jensen becoming uncomfortable, but he pressed on. “But you’re none of those things. You’re the successful independent one and you could easily take down Fisher in a fight.”
Agitated now, Jensen pushed back from the table, scraping his chair across the floor. “You don’t understand,” he told Jared through clenched teeth, standing with his fists balled up at his sides.
“Then help me to understand,” Jared implored.
“It’s my fault! I deserve this!” Jensen yelled.
Jared closed his eyes and shook his head. “Every abuse victim says this, Jensen, and it’s not true,” he said gently. “You’ve done nothing to deserve this, no matter what Fisher told you.”
Jensen shook his head, green eyes brimming with guilt. “I’m the one that got him hooked on cocaine! I deserve this, it’s my punishment!”
At Jensen’s words Jared went absolutely rigid. He couldn’t believe that Jensen was a drug addict. “How long have you been doing drugs?” he asked, voice stone cold.
Jensen shook his head, pacing. “Never. I’d never touch that shit.”
Jared relaxed his posture at Jensen’s answer, but it left him confused. “Then how are you responsible for Mark’s habit?”
Jensen shook his head. “I’m done talking,” he said tightly. “Please, just go.”
Jared stood, playing his trump card now that Jensen had shut him down. “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that the police may have been out here three times, but Fisher has hit you more often than that. It’s only been three times that someone’s seen or heard it.” He paused, swallowing, voice rough. “Just like my older sister. Her husband ended up killing her.” He let the statement hang for a moment, watching as Jensen’s face registered the gravity of what he’d just said. “Mark is going to escalate, I can guarantee it, especially being on cocaine, and I…I don’t want to see you end up like my sister,” Jared finished, voice wavering slightly.
And with that sobering thought, Jared turned and walked out of the house, leaving Jensen standing stock still in the middle of his kitchen.
~*~*~*~
It was another sleepless night for Jared.
He kept telling himself he’d done all he could for Jensen. Like the situation with his sister, he knew that you couldn’t force a person to leave their abuser. But it didn’t stop him from being distracted the rest of the day and tossing and turning all night.
Sunday morning dawned clear and bright, and a bleary-eyed Jared stumbled from his rumpled bed toward the shower, nearly tripping over Harley, who was ready for his morning run and training session. His master, however, was anything but.
“In a minute, boy,” Jared mumbled, scratching the dog behind his ears with one hand, while scrubbing the other over his own face. Harley seemed to accept the answer and stretched out across the entire bathroom doorway, where Jared found him still patiently waiting ten minutes later, when Jared emerged from the shower, now feeling much more human.
After a quick cup of coffee and the realization that breakfast would have to wait since his pantry and refrigerator were pretty much empty, Jared opened his sliding glass patio door and stepped outside.
Truth be told, Jared’s backyard looked like a junkyard at first glance. But it was actually a training area for Harley, with crates and pallets, garbage cans, the back half of a 1967 Chevy Impala, a small refrigerator, several tires and various other items.
K-9 training was constant, seven days a week. Harley’s skills needed to always be top-notch. To the big dog it wasn’t training, though, it was a game, and one he loved to play. While his partner was inside, Jared placed several scent bags throughout the yard, hidden in the garbage can, the refrigerator and in the trunk of the car. Each was a different smell – cocaine, marijuana and gunpowder – that Harley needed to find. And when he did so successfully he got Jared’s praise and his favorite orange rubber ball to chase as a reward.
Stepping back inside the house, Jared clipped Harley’s short leash to his collar and led him out into the backyard. “Ready to work?” he asked the dog and Harley barked happily in reply.
He took Harley to one end of the yard. “Sit,” he told him firmly and the dog instantly obeyed. After another moment, sure that Harley was focused, Jared issued another command. “Seek drugs, Harley. Seek.”
The dog’s ears perked up immediately and he stood and started sniffing the nearest object, Jared leading him from one to another, working their way down the yard. When they got to the garbage can, Harley immediately gave his alert – he sat, barked once and scratched at the can with one paw.
“Good boy, Harley! Good boy!” Jared responded, grabbing his partner by his large head and playfully shaking him back and forth. Harley’s tail started wagging madly as Jared withdrew the orange rubber ball from his pocket and threw it to the opposite end of the yard. Harley took off after it with a high bark, catching it in his mouth as it bounced off the back end of the car. He brought it back to Jared, and the two started the process all over again, until Harley had located all three scent bags.
Next he brought out the dog whistle. It wasn’t a tool that was used often, but having Harley be able to take commands by non-verbal means was a useful skill.
Last were Harley’s agility exercises. The K-9 dogs were frequently called upon to enter a house and locate a suspect, and that sometimes meant being lifted through windows and having to crawl through tight spaces in basements or attics. Or having to jump over fences in the pursuit of a fleeing suspect.
So Jared put Harley through his paces, having his partner crawl through a dark, flexible tunnel, jump over several hurdles and practice being lifted up and over objects.
As always, Harley performed his tasks with flying colors and was rewarded not only with his rubber ball but several dog treats as well. Then it was time for the dog’s other favorite part of the day – his morning run with Jared.
They hit the trail in the park down the block from Jared’s house, setting a brisk pace, feet and paws hitting the gravel in a smooth rhythm. Running was a big part of Jared’s life. It was his quiet time, when he cleared everything from his head, pushed all his stress away.
Except for today. For no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard and how fast he ran, he couldn’t get the image of a pair of green eyes filled with shadows and pain from the forefront of his mind.
~*~*~*~
A few hours later Jared pushed open his front door, juggling grocery bags and trying to step around a dog who could smell his new bag of food.
“Sorry, boy, but you already ate your breakfast,” Jared said a bit distractedly as he put the bags on the kitchen counter and started looking around for his cell phone. He realized he didn’t have it with him while he was at the store, and was afraid he’d dropped it somewhere.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it on his dresser, but it was short lived when he saw he had a voicemail. Hoping it wasn’t the station trying to get a hold of him for some reason, he pressed the button…and nearly dropped the phone in astonishment when he heard Jensen’s voice.
“Jared, this is Jensen. I, um…I wanted to thank you for coming over here yesterday and checking on me. You didn’t need to do that and it…it meant a lot. I’m sorry for the way I acted, telling you to leave when you were only trying to help. Mark…he’s been calling from the jail, demanding I come bail him out. But after what you told me…about your sister…that was the eye opener I needed. I wanted to let you know I’ve decided to go ahead with the restraining order. Just…thanks, Jared. For everything.”
Jared stared at the phone in silence for long moments, absorbing what Jensen had just said, feeling like a giant weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He knew he should just call Jensen back, tell him how glad he was that he was taking the first step in getting Fisher out of his life, but ten seconds later he was in his truck with Harley driving out to Jensen’s house in Hollywood.
This time when Jensen opened the front door he greeted Jared with a smile that said he wasn’t surprised to see the policeman on his porch. “Hey, Jared.”
“Hey, Jensen,” Jared smiled back. “I, um..I got your voicemail. And I know I should’ve just called you back…” he trailed off.
“No, it’s…it’s good to see you. I’m glad you stopped by,” Jensen answered sincerely. “C’mon in.”
“Um, actually I was on my way to go grab an early lunch and take Harley to the dog park to let him run for a bit,” he replied, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to his partner, sitting patiently at the bottom of the stairs. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Oh…” Jensen hesitated, and Jared felt like shooting himself in the head. What was he thinking? Jensen was a celebrity for crying out loud! Like he’d want to be seen with a nobody like Jared.
“I’m sorry,” Jared backpedaled quickly. “I shouldn’t have…”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Jensen cut him off. “I’d love to go with you, but with my face looking like this, the last thing I need is some paparazzi seeing me and having my picture splashed across the tabloids tomorrow. I don’t need this…situation with Mark to come out.”
Jared again wanted to shoot himself in the head. “Right, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”
Jensen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Listen, I can’t go anywhere, but I’ve got two steaks in the fridge and a grill out back. And Harley can have the run of the yard. Would that work?”
Jared smiled. “You got beer?”
Jensen cocked his head. “I’m from Texas. What do you think?”
Jared laughed and called over his shoulder, “Harley, come!” and the big dog bounded up the steps, instantly jumping up on Jensen, nearly knocking the other man over.
“Jensen, meet my partner, Harley,” Jared grinned.
Jensen chuckled. With Harley’s paws on his shoulders he was looking directly into the dog’s face. “Nice to meet you, Harley,” he said, and patted the dog affectionately on its side.
“Okay, Harley, down,” Jared told his partner and as always, he instantly obeyed.
“C’mon in,” Jensen told them, and stepped aside to let them in the house.
Jensen was barefoot again today, the ends of his faded jeans just brushing the floor as he padded through the living room and kitchen, Jared and Harley following behind. Jensen went to the far end of the spacious kitchen and opened up the French doors that led outside.
“Wow…” Jared breathed.
Jensen’s backyard was twice the size of Jared’s. Surrounded by a high security fence, half of the space was green grass, large plants, trees and beautiful flowers in every color of the rainbow. The other half of the yard was taken up by a large in-ground swimming pool, complete with Jacuzzi.
“This is amazing,” Jared told Jensen as the two men stepped out onto the large deck that held patio furniture and a barbeque grill.
“Thanks,” Jensen answered. “I spend a lot of time out here when I’m home. Can I get you that beer?”
“Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” Jared replied, taking Harley’s orange rubber ball out of his pocket and throwing it out into the yard. Harley gave a happy bark and took off after it at top speed.
Jared sat down on one of the patio chairs as Jensen came back outside with two beers and the marinated steaks on a plate, along with two foil-wrapped potatoes. He handed the bottles to Jared and Jared smirked at the label – LoneStar. Yep, you could take the boy out of Texas but not take Texas out of the boy. Just like him.
Jared popped the cap off the bottle and took a long swallow of the cold beer as Jensen set about firing up the grill and getting the steaks and potatoes on before the older man joined Jared at the patio table. They sat in silence for several minutes, watching Harley out in the yard before Jensen turned to Jared.
“Thanks again for coming by yesterday,” he said softly. “If you hadn’t told me about your sister I wouldn’t be going through with the restraining order.”
“Do you want to talk about it? About Mark?” Jared asked cautiously. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener. You’ve kept this bottled up for a long time, I’m guessing.”
Jensen huffed out a breath and glanced away. “Yeah, you could say that,” he began, then hesitated, getting up to check on the steaks again.
Jared waited patiently, knowing from on the job experience how difficult it could be for abuse victims to open up. He was hoping that even though he and Jensen had just met, he’d feel comfortable enough talking to him, if he felt the same kind of connection between them that Jared did.
Jensen sat back down and started absently picking at the label on his beer bottle, not quite meeting Jared’s eyes. “I met Mark three years ago,” he began slowly, and Jared let out a quiet, relieved breath that Jensen decided to confide in him.
“I moved in here and Mark installed my alarm system. He was here for a few days and things just…clicked between us. We started dating. For two years everything was perfect,” Jensen smiled wistfully. “My career was finally taking off and Mark was my biggest supporter. Always by my side.”
Jensen sighed. “Then Mark’s company downsized and he lost his job. His bills started piling up and he was struggling to pay the rent on his apartment, so I asked him to move in with me. I didn’t have a problem supporting him while he tried to find another job. And because I was gone more and more often, filming, doing PR work, I gave him access to one of my bank accounts so he’d have some money.”
Jared couldn’t help the soft noise he made at that, and Jensen nodded. “I know. It ended up being the mistake that started everything.” He swallowed hard then pushed back from the table, going back over to the grill. He came back with their steaks and potatoes, then went back into the house and came out with two more beers, plates, and silverware.
They ate for a bit, and Jared didn’t push Jensen to keep talking, he needed to let him tell his story at his own pace.
“The Hollywood party scene was never my thing,” Jensen began again. “But it’s a necessary evil in this business to meet the right people, make the right contacts. I always took Mark with me, but too many times I left him on his own as I talked to a producer or director. At first I was glad that he was still enjoying himself, meeting people, having a good time. What I didn’t know until it was too late was that he’d fallen in with a group whose hobby was recreational drug use.”
Jensen stood, agitated, pacing back and forth. “I was too wrapped up in myself, in making my stupid Hollywood dream come true, not paying attention to Mark or my dwindling bank account as he used my money to buy drugs.”
He stopped pacing and gripped back of his chair. “Then one day I came home early from filming and found him high on coke. At first I was stunned, and then I was furious. We’d never fought like that before, up in each other’s faces, and it ended when he punched me for the first time.”
Jared sighed deeply. “Jensen, you can’t blame yourself for this. He’s an adult, he made his own choices – “
“No! I did this to him, Jared!” Jensen yelled, voice choked. “I gave him access to the drugs, I ignored him, and this is what happened.” Jensen took a breath. “I’ve been trying to help him, to fix this, to make up for how I treated him. But he’s so hooked on the coke… Every time he lost control…every bruise he gave me was a reminder that I failed him.”
Jared closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the waves of guilt radiating off the other man. “Have you tried getting him professional help?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, I’ve paid twice to have him attend a discreet rehab facility. He’s okay for a month or two, then he’s right back using again.”
Jared splayed his hands out. “You’ve done all you can, Jensen. You’ve got to stop punishing yourself. He’s made his choices, over and over again.”
Jensen released a long breath, shoulders sagging. “I know. I know that now.” He locked eyes with Jared. “But do you understand my feelings of guilt, why I didn’t want to give up on him? We were happy for a long time.”
Jared nodded slowly, debating asking the next question, if he might be pushing things, but he felt an unexplainable urge to know. “Do you still love him?”
Jensen looked away from Jared, out into the yard, and silence reigned for long moments until Jensen shook his head. “Not for a long time now,” he admitted in a whisper.
For reasons he couldn’t yet explain, the relief Jared felt from Jensen’s words was overwhelming. “Can I ask how long all this has been going on? You’re photographed pretty frequently but until Friday night I never saw a bruise on you.”
Jensen stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s been going on for about a year. And no, Mark was smart. He knew I was his meal ticket and if I reported to set with a black eye and all of this came out, the scandal would tank my career, and my cash flow.”
He paused and pulled up the bottom of his navy blue t-shirt, exposing several old bruises, now turned yellowish-green, and one fresh one from Friday night, scattering across his ribs and stomach. “He never hit where anyone could see, until he slipped up Friday night.”
Jared was instantly sick to his stomach, looking in horror at all of Jensen’s injuries. “Jesus…Jensen…” he breathed.
“I never thought it would be anymore than this or this,” Jensen said, indicating his chest and face, letting his shirt fall back down. “The thought of him actually killing me was never even a thought, until you told me about your sister. It was the wakeup call I needed, that I’d done all I could for Mark and it was time to start thinking about myself.” He smiled, his green eyes warm and open. “Thank you, Jared. I think you probably saved my life.”
Jared’s breath caught in his throat, making him unable to speak, or to look away from the man standing across from him until Jensen blinked, releasing him, and Jared finally took a breath.
Jensen pulled out his chair and sat back down. He leaned toward Jared, arms resting on the table top. “Can I ask…what happened to your sister?”
Jared nodded. It was only fair that he share his story, too. He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, withdrawing a well-worn photo and passing it across to Jensen. It was he and Megan on the last summer vacation they ever took together as a family, smiling up into their father’s camera.
“It happened when I was thirteen and she was twenty,” Jared began. “She was always the wild child, hanging with the wrong crowd, driving my parents crazy. She got mixed up with a guy that was nothing but trouble, but she was in love with him.” He sighed. “They got married despite my parent’s protests. He was a drinker and the abuse started pretty quickly. We tried to get her to leave him, but she kept saying he apologized, said he’d never do it again.” Jared shook his head, eyes sad. “And she believed him. Next thing we know he’s moving her to New Mexico, away from her friends and family, her support system.”
Jared had to pause, swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat. “We had no idea how bad it had gotten until it was too late. Until my parents got a call at 2 am telling us that Megan was dead, stabbed to death,” he finished, voice ragged with the pain of the memory.
Jensen’s eyes reflected his sorrow. “My God, I’m so sorry. Is that why you decided to become a cop?”
Jared cleared his throat. “Partly, yeah. But it is why I can’t walk away from domestic abuse cases.”
Jensen’s reply was soft and heartfelt. “I’m glad you don’t. Thank you for not giving up on me.”
There it was again, that pull, that connection, in the way Jensen was looking at him so intensely. The moment hung there in the afternoon sunshine, hazel eyes locked with green, Jared’s stomach giving a familiar flutter, broken only when Harley suddenly gave a yip out in the yard. Jared released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he and Jensen turned to look over at the dog, who was leaping up into the air for no apparent reason.
“Is he right in the head?” Jensen asked playfully, confused at the dog’s antics.
Jared cocked his head. “Some say it’s what makes us the perfect partners,” he deadpanned and Jensen grinned back in amusement, shaking his head.
The sound of a patio door opening and closing next door at Chris Kane’s house drew their attention, and a moment later the soft strains of a guitar were heard on the summer breeze.
“He’s a musician, eh?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, and a darn good one,” Jensen answered. “It’s how we met, actually. His band was playing at a network party I was at six years ago. I play guitar a bit, too, and wanted to complement him. We ended up talking at the bar for four hours that night,” Jensen smiled. “Been friends ever since. He’s the one that told me about this house going up for sale.”
Jensen paused. “I went over and apologized to him for how I acted Friday night. He did the right thing by calling the police.”
“He cares about you. It’s good to have friends like that.”
Jensen nodded. “And I hardly have any, so I need to hang on to the ones I’ve got.”
Jared gave a surprised laugh. “You? Mr. Hollywood Actor? No friends? I find that hard to believe.”
Jensen’s sigh was long. “In this business you don’t have many true friends. Everyone always wants something from you. They don’t really want to know you, just what you can do for them. It can get pretty damn lonely, honestly.”
And Jared could hear the loneliness in Jensen’s words and all he wanted to do was take it away, to be someone who’d always be there for him.
Jared’s words were quiet, sincere. “I’d like to be your friend…if I could.”
Jensen’s shy smile was like the sun breaking through a cloudy day. “Yeah…yeah, I’d like that.”
“Actually…” Jared struggled not to grin. “Could I get your autograph?”
He was hoping for another smile out of Jensen, but the full blown laugh he got startled him so much he didn’t even try to dodge the beer bottle cap Jensen flicked at his forehead. In a split second Jensen’s entire face changed from tired and world weary to…beautiful. And it took Jared’s breath away.
Jensen smiled and shook his head, but then sobered. “Actually, you can,” he told Jared, then rose from the table and went inside. He reappeared a minute later with a pen and several pieces of paper that Jared recognized as the restraining order paperwork. Jensen scrawled his signature at the bottom of each page, then slid them across to Jared without a word. Their fingers brushed, sending a tingle up Jared’s arm as he locked eyes with Jensen.
And for the first time he saw something new in their green depths…trust.
~*~*~*~
Later that night, back at home, Jared was on his computer, checking his email. He was about to shut down the machine when he paused, and instead opened up YouTube. He did a search on Jensen’s name, looking for a particular video clip. He found it a minute later and pulled up Jensen’s last red carpet appearance, about nine months ago at the premiere of his last movie, Mark Fisher by his side. He’d seen this clip before, and back then all he saw was a successful actor smiling for the camera, holding hands with the man he loved.
But now Jared could see the shadows behind Jensen’s eyes and how his smile never quite reached them.
~*~*~*~
It should’ve been another typical Monday morning. It was sunny and hot, per the usual California weather, the sunshine streaming in through Jared’s bedroom window, glinting off his badge as he put on his uniform. But today wasn’t just any Monday. Today Jared had his final meeting with Sergeant Morgan, who would either give him the go-ahead to begin patrols on his own, or assign him an extended period of field training.
Jared took a deep breath and studied himself in his bedroom mirror. He felt he’d done well this past month during his training with Jeff, but L.A.P.D. standards were a lot different than San Antonio’s and he hoped he’d measured up.
He glanced down at his side, where Harley waited patiently, his own badge, clipped to his collar, shining in the sunlight as well.
He hoped they both measured up.
In about thirty minutes he’d find out.
~*~*~*~
Jared cleared his throat and knocked on the open door of Jeff’s office twenty minutes later, having deposited Harley in the station’s kennel first.
The sergeant looked up from his paperwork and motioned Jared inside. “Ah, Padalecki, have a seat.”
Jared nodded and sat ramrod straight on the edge of the chair, trying to tramp down the internal butterflies dancing in his stomach.
Jeff chuckled at Jared’s pose. “Relax,” he told him and Jared let his shoulders sag a bit and sat back further in the chair.
Jeff opened up a red file folder, containing Jared’s evaluation paperwork. “You’re a hard worker, Padalecki,” he began. “You brought with you your experience from San Antonio and it shows. You’ve got excellent instincts and adapt well to each changing situation you find yourself in. You also work seamlessly with your partner and with other members of this department.”
He slid a set of car keys across the desk with a smile. “Congratulations, rookie. You’re now a full-fledged part of this team.”
Jared didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he pulled in a relieved lungful.
“Thank you, Sarge,” he grinned from ear to ear. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” Jeff smiled in return, then pointed a finger at him. “Just don’t get cocky. You know you’re still on probation for the next six months.” He closed Jared’s file then hooked his thumb toward the door. “Now hit the streets.”
Jared jumped up, snagging the keys and giving Jeff a mock salute. “Yes sir, Sergeant Morgan, sir,” he joked, then practically sprinted from the office, leaving Jeff shaking his head in mock exasperation.
~*~*~*~
Hours later Jared and Harley were patrolling the streets of their beat, Jared’s excitement at finally being on his own having diminished due to the fact that nothing was happening that day. He was eager to tackle his first solo call, but the citizens of Hollywood were behaving themselves that day. He hadn’t even written a speeding ticket all day.
No sooner had a disappointed sigh passed his lips when his radio suddenly issued a series of beeps.
“Six-Adam-Twelve.”
Harley sat up in the backseat as Jared snagged the mic. “Six-Adam-Twelve, go,” he responded to Amy, another one of their dispatchers, feeling his pulse start to quicken.
“Six-Adam-Twelve…Six-Adam-Nineteen is 10-38 at Fountain and La Brea, requesting K-9 assistance. Please respond.”
“10-4. Six-Adam-Twelve, responding.”
Jared’s smile was as bright as the sun as he looked over his shoulder at Harley. “Showtime,” he told his partner, flipping on the lights and sirens, his partner’s excited barking filling the squad car.
~*~*~*~
They arrived on the scene minutes later, Jared’s keen eyes taking in everything at once. Officers Paul Chen and Ray Parker had a dark green SUV pulled over, the male driver handcuffed and seated on the curb. Parker was watching over him while Chen was searching the vehicle.
Jared pulled his squad up in front of the SUV and got out, leaving a disappointed Harley in the backseat, eager to work.
“Paul,” Jared nodded as he approached. “What’ve we got?”
Officer Chen crawled out of the backseat. “Thanks for coming, Jared. We got a solid tip this guy is in the process of transporting a large quantity of cocaine, but Parker and I have come up empty. I mean, take a look in here.”
Chen moved out of the way and Jared looked inside the SUV, wrinkling up his nose in disgust. The odor of rotten food assailed his nose first and foremost, as he took in the multitude of discarded wrappers, bags and cups. Garbage in general littered the entire vehicle, interspersed with clothing, blankets and empty cigarette packs. Jared straightened back up and looked over at the suspect, noting that the man’s disheveled appearance matched that of his vehicle. Here was someone who lived in his car.
“Okay, let me get my partner,” Jared said, then reached down to his gun belt and pressed a button on what looked like a garage door opener. It was a device that allowed Jared to remotely open the backdoor on his squad, releasing Harley. It was an invaluable tool should Jared ever find himself out of his squad and in jeopardy, in need of his partner.
Harley bounded out in an instant, trotting obediently to Jared’s side. Jared reached down and took hold of Harley’s collar. “Ready to work, boy?” he asked, then took Harley up to the front of the SUV.
“Seek drugs, Harley. Seek drugs,” he told the dog and Harley immediately put his nose to the grill of the vehicle and began sniffing.
Jared and Harley made a slow circle all the way around the SUV with no alert from his partner. He then opened up the back and Harley jumped inside, nosing through the debris, but not alerting. Jared repeated the process in the backseat, but still nothing from Harley.
It was a different story in the front seat, however. Within seconds Harley barked, sat down and began pawing at the radio. Jared looked at Chen and nodded in satisfaction. “Harley, out!”
After Harley had jumped down, Chen began prying at the front panel of the radio, using the conveniently located screwdriver on the passenger seat. Minutes later he had the radio pulled out and was reaching around inside the open space.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore, emerging with three bags of cocaine, packaged for distribution.
Jared immediately turned to his partner, dropping down on one knee, a huge smile on his face. “Good boy, Harley! Good boy!” he praised the dog, playfully shaking his head, patting him on his side. Harley barked and licked at Jared’s face, pleased that he’d won the game.
“Good job yourself, rookie,” Chen grinned and shook Jared’s hand.
Jared stepped back and let Chen and Parker finish up, breathing deeply, a huge weight off his shoulders. He looked down at Harley with pride in his eyes. They’d proved with their first solo call that they deserved to wear the badge of the L.A.P.D., and there was no better feeling in the world.
~*~*~*~
On lunch break later that afternoon, Jared was sitting on a park bench, enjoying his chili dog with Harley lounging at his feet when his cell phone rang. He quickly wiped off his hands and fished his phone from his pants pocket, smiling at the name on the display.
“Hey, Jensen.”
“Jared, hey. I’m sorry I’m calling you while you’re working.”
“No, perfect timing. I’m on my lunch break. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know what was going on. I couldn’t take the chance and let anyone see me at Mark’s sentencing this morning, so Chris volunteered to go. He told me that the judge got serious, said that because this is Mark’s third offense for the same charge he’s sentencing him to six months in the county jail this time.”
And here Jared didn’t think the day could’ve possibly gotten any better. “Jensen…God, that’s great news. It’s good to know he’s going to have to suffer the consequences of what he did to you. How are you feeling about all this?”
He heard Jensen sigh. “I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, to tell you the truth. Things have been moving kinda fast since Friday. Still trying to wrap my head around everything, you know? But Chris…” Jared could hear him smile now. “Chris knows exactly what he’s feeling, and insists we celebrate tonight by building a bonfire in my backyard and burning all of Mark’s clothes. Please say you’ll come over after your shift and be my backup in case Chris breaks out the matches.”
Jared couldn’t help but laugh. “Deal. I’ll even bring the beer.”
~*~*~*~
By eight o’clock that night Jared was comfortably ensconced in a patio chair on Jensen’s deck, beer in hand, Chris Kane sitting next to him. They were watching Jensen in the yard with Harley, man and dog playfully wrestling in the grass. Each time Jensen laughed a feeling of warmth blossomed in Jared’s chest.
“Thank you.”
Jared turned to look at Chris. “For what?”
Chris indicated his head toward Jensen. “For finally being the one to put a smile on his face.”
Jared could feel his own face heating up and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, well…you played a part, too. You didn’t give up on him, either.”
Chris nodded and clinked his beer bottle with Jared’s. “I’m just glad this nightmare seems to finally be over for him.” He looked pointedly at Jared. “He deserves someone who will never hurt him again.”
Jared could hear the double meaning in Chris’s words and was pinned by the other man’s intense gaze, broken only when Jensen walked up onto the deck.
“You were right, Jared,” Jensen grinned. “The more time I spend with Harley the more I realize how similar you two really are.”
Chris chuckled as he stood. “Get you boys another beer?” he asked, heading toward the house and received two nods.
“You look good,” Jared said softly as Jensen settled into the chair on the opposite side of him. The cut on Jensen’s face was healing nicely, no longer an angry red, and even the vivid bruising was fading. “Relaxed.”
Jensen nodded slowly. “I feel good. Now,” he answered. “Been turning this jail thing with Mark over and over in my head all day. Letting go of the guilt. Telling myself that he deserves it and that I need all these months away from him to get my life back on track. A fresh start.”
“Good advice,” Jared agreed. “Speaking of that – I checked on your restraining order paperwork today. It’s been processed and Fisher will be informed about it in jail. He does have a legal right to come back here when he’s released to collect his personal belongings, so I suggest you start packing up his things now and store them in the garage. That way when he comes back he can just take the boxes and leave. And if you want I can be here, officially.”
“I’d really appreciate that, Jared, thanks. Could I ask a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Are you busy this weekend? I’d like to get started boxing up Mark’s things, and I know if I do it myself I’ll end up lingering over every freakin’ shirt and book, and probably end up depressing myself. I need someone impartial who can just pick stuff up and put it in a box.”
Jared smiled. “I’d be happy to help,” he answered, then changed the subject. “So, are you going to be here in L.A. for awhile?”
Jensen nodded. “Yep, I’ve got some downtime for the next several months, before I start up PR work for Dark Highway.”
“Man, I can’t wait to see that. From what I’ve heard you’re amazing in it,” Jared gushed, watching as a faint, embarrassed blush stained Jensen’s cheeks.
“Okay, boys, here we go,” Chris said, reappearing from the house with three beer bottles in one hand and a guitar in the other.
Jensen started shaking his head. “Oh, no, no.”
“Don’t even give me that crap,” Chris replied without heat, holding out the guitar to Jensen. “We had a deal, my friend.”
“Deal?” Jared asked curiously.
“Jen here agreed to sing with me a bit tonight if I promised not to start a bonfire in the middle of his yard,” Chris explained.
Turning toward Jensen, Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “You sing and play guitar? I’ve been a fan of yours for years. How did I not know this?”
Jensen shot Chris a look, but took the guitar. “Because I’m not good at either so I kinda keep it to myself.”
“Oh, bullshit. You’re damn good, son,” Chris replied, snagging his own guitar from where it had been resting against the railing of the deck and strummed a chord. “Let’s let Jared here decide for himself, shall we?”
Five minutes later Jared had indeed decided for himself and come down firmly on Chris’s side of the matter. Jensen was a talented musician and Jared was mesmerized.
Chris’s voice was smooth and rich and deep, while Jensen’s slightly higher pitched voice complemented the other man’s in perfect harmony. They sang songs about love and hope and dreams, filling the summer night with beautiful music, and Jared simply could not take his eyes off of Jensen. And each time Jensen locked eyes with him, Jared’s stomach flipped.
It was then he realized with certainty that his fanboy crush was turning into something much deeper.
~*~*~*~
Jared looked at his watch for the umpteenth time in the past hour, urging the minute hand to go just a bit faster. It’d been a long week, and he was looking forward to getting off his shift in half an hour and heading over to Jensen’s. They’d talked on the phone frequently since Monday night, but it wasn’t the same as actually sitting on Jensen’s deck, sharing a beer with the older man.
He was roused from his musings by the beeping of his radio, and Amy’s voice.
“Six-Adam-Twelve.”
“Six-Adam-Twelve, go,” he quickly responded.
“Six-Adam-Twelve…10-32 at 157 North Cherokee, requesting K-9 assistance. Please respond.”
“10-4. Six-Adam-Twelve, responding.”
Man with a gun. Jared felt his heart start to beat faster as he flipped on his lights and sirens and hit the gas.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER TWO
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 12:49 pm (UTC)*hugs My Goddess*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 01:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 02:28 pm (UTC)\o/ Loving it so far! Totally will sneak finishing reading this while I'm at work. :> :>
(Randomly, I see the phrase Sargent Morgan and I immediately think of Dexter, lmao and thus wanting a strange Supernatural/Dexter cross over!)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 02:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 04:53 pm (UTC)Ok I'm gonna switch off the phone,give my boys some food and then I'm off to read! Don't disturb me the next (?) hours! I'm bouncing again and I'm doing the happy dance.
Sending you a big Padahug !!!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 05:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-22 09:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-23 12:30 am (UTC)*RUNS OFF TO READ!!!!!!!!!*
xoxoxoxoxo,
Your #1 Fangirl ;]
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-23 03:35 am (UTC)OMFG! this is ...this is OMG and TOTAL WOW!!!
*back to headdesking*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-23 01:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-24 02:09 am (UTC)Luckily for me i had one special friend that asked me one simple question who do i love more that man or me and my children,it took me a few years but ultimately she helped me get out alive and i thank god for her every day of my life. I'm doing so much better now happier than i have been in like forever so don't sell yourself short you might have help another abused victim to seek out help.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-25 02:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-25 02:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-26 03:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-26 08:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-04-26 01:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-05 07:32 pm (UTC)I found/read this last night via Sinful Desire and it rocked(of course)!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-07 03:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-08 03:22 am (UTC)*HUGGGGGGGGGGGGGS*
And it was awesome-pawsome! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-16 01:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-16 05:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-02 10:39 pm (UTC)I run to read chapter 2
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-03 01:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-05-17 08:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-05-18 08:55 pm (UTC)