dime_liora | The Broken Heart is Blind Part 2

If Jensen could qualify in words how badly he wanted to keep Jared in his life then maybe Jared would still be curled against him on the couch in Jensen’s run-down little apartment. He’s never been a man who wielded pretty sentiments. His father taught him that it was important to speak plainly, to get at the truth, and to always be honorable in his dealings.

His father never imagined that Jensen would be a thug at thirty-three, with a number of robberies and assaults under his belt so voluminous no one thought to question Jensen’s commitment to the cause of organized crime. His father never imagined Jensen would sleep with a gun under his pillow and a scar on his belly that still ached late at night.

He’d never told Jared the story behind that particular scar. Never told his lover about the ache, but somehow Jared had known. Jensen would wake sometimes in the night, covered in sweat and panting like he’d run a marathon, and Jared’s hand would go automatically to the mark and soothe it. Sometimes Jared would press his lips against it, gentle and sweet, and Jensen thought it was a little like a benediction, and a lot like absolution.

When he’d come home to find Jared drunk and finally aware of the depths of Jensen’s sins that was honestly the moment Jensen thought Jared would leave him. He knew his boyfriend too well. Knew the depths of compassion and sweetness he was capable of, and how much he looked down on people who took advantage of the weak and wounded. It was one of the many things Jensen loved about Jared.

But after the initial fight, after a night of holding Jared and listening to his tearful pleas, Jensen had woken up with all six foot four of Jared still in his bed. They weren’t touching, there were none of the usual kisses or love exchanged, but he was still there. The wary look that settled into the corner of Jared’s eyes disturbed him, but he understood it. He could admit to putting it there, and he could take responsibility.

He had been made to promise that he would never bring it home, that he would never kill anyone, and most importantly that he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t a part of the life. Jensen made all of those promises except the middle one.

It took two months for Jared to do more than touch Jensen’s hand again, and when it happened it was subtle and sweet. Sitting on the couch in Jared’s apartment, Enter the Dragon playing on the TV, Jared’s lips had pressed once against Jensen’s jaw. When he turned to look Jared was already back on his side of the couch, fists clenched tightly in his lap and face pointedly turned away. Still, it had happened, and Jensen was grateful. He’d take what he could get.

But the tension, it never really went away, and then one day it did. One day Jensen came to Jared’s apartment, and the taller man simply stared at him. The look was unreadable, a first for Jared who was always so open, and Jensen tried to pry it out of him but Jared wouldn’t budge. Instead they’d sat across from each other at the little table and eaten copious amounts of take-out. Jared’s hand kept straying out, brushing Jensen’s knuckles and pressing gently along the lines and ridges of his fingers.

Jensen, for his part, held perfectly still. He was a little afraid he’d spook Jared like this, break the spell that seemed to hang in the air between them. When dinner was finished and they had no better excuse Jensen figured it would follow the same pattern it always did. The slow edging out that Jared favored, and that Jensen was willing to live with. He honestly believed at the time that any little bit of Jared was better than none at all.

But when he stood up and glanced around before clearing his throat to say goodbye Jared grabbed his hand and shook his head. His eyes were wide, and suddenly Jensen could read some of it. Desperation, indecision, fear. He hated that. Hated being the one who put that look into Jared’s big, trusting eyes. Still he stood in one place and waited for the verdict.

“Stay Jen.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, and that must have shown on his face because Jared made a little noise and then stood and pulled Jensen into a kiss. Lips pressed against lips for the first time in what felt like forever, and Jensen wasn’t about to look this gift Jared in the mouth. Bad analogy.

He pressed harder, sweeping his tongue against Jared’s lower lip and gaining entry. It was like a dream. Jensen was being offered everything he’d lost, everything he’d betrayed, and he wasn’t going to lose it a second time.

They trailed clothes down the hall, Jensen pressing Jared against every flat surface on the way and making it a point to taste every inch of Jared’s skin. When they finally reached the bedroom all Jared had left was a sock, and Jensen was completely naked and hard enough to drive nails.

He pressed Jared into the bed and began to murmur against his boyfriend’s tanned skin as he fumbled with the lube bottle and got his fingers slick. “So beautiful-so good Jay-I’ll be so good for you sweetheart-“

Jared moaned low and deep in his chest, hips bucking when Jensen’s finger circled his entrance and then pressed inside. “I know. I know.”

One finger worked in slow, his thumb circling the rim around it as he licked a hot trail over Jared’s shoulder and against the graceful column of his neck. “So sorry baby. Sorry, but I’ll be good to you. Make it up to you.”

There was a hitched sound, and when Jensen looked up Jared’s eyes were full of tears and his sweet mouth was pulled into a tight line. “I know Jen.”

“Jay? Jared what’s-do you not want this?” His fingers stilled, but when he tried to pull the one that had made it inside out Jared clenched down on it.

“No.” There was a fire there now, burning behind the anguish and the tears. “Please Jen. Please.”

He felt like it was all slipping out of his grasp. Something was happening here, something was moving without him, and Jensen couldn’t even begin to guess what. He’d never been put into this position before, and he had no idea how to handle it. When Jared nipped his lower lip and shifted his finger deeper with a snap of his hips Jensen responded with a slow and sweet kiss and a second finger.

Three digits worked inside of Jared’s tight channel and his boyfriend had his head tilted back into the pillow, messy hair hanging into his eyes and mouth open on pleading moans. Jensen dipped down low, licked one hipbone and then placed sucking kisses along the line of Jared’s cock. He stroked his own erection with a lubed hand until he was properly prepared, and then pulled his fingers out. Jared’s eyes swept open, bright and shining in the lamplight of the bedroom, and then Jared gripped his own thighs and pulled his legs up towards his chest.

It was the best invitation Jensen had ever received. When he was sunk all the way in to the hilt, Jared surrounding and squeezing him, Jensen kissed the man underneath him again. Kissed him all through the first few tentative thrusts, and then set a slow and steady pace. He relieved Jared of the burden of his own legs, wrapped one around his waist and propped the over his shoulder.

Each push, each rhythmic pull of Jared’s ass around his cock reminded him what had almost happened. How close he’d come to losing this. His mouth moved without him, and he pressed his face against Jared’s neck so he wouldn’t see if the response was disbelief or disgust.

“I haven’t been a good man, and I know that, but baby you gotta believe me, I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna fix all of it. I promise. Just stick with me Jay. Just don’t give up on me, ‘cause I love you and I’m gonna make it better.”

He heard a sob again, and then Jared was pushing back, thrusting upwards even as the heel he had pressed into Jensen’s ass pulled him in tight and hard.

The next day, when Jared told him he was leaving him for Pileggi’s son, Jensen would remember that moment and wonder. Jared had found the perfect way to send him off. Paid for Jensen’s forgiveness with his ass.

Jared’s eyes, wet and wide had taken in the tightly controlled rage in every line of Jensen’s body. He’d wanted to hit him, to beat the beautiful and pleading face, to end everything right there and then. Instead he’d stood from the kitchen table and grabbed his jacket. He was almost to the door when Jared had the gall to grab his wrist, and Jensen spun on one heel and drove a fist into Jared’s midsection. The younger man staggered back, hand against his stomach and mouth open in shock.

“Don’t touch me. Never touch me again. I don’t fuck around with whores.”

----

Sandy wasn’t wrong. What had followed was a calculated attempt on Jensen’s part to make Jared so uncomfortable in his new relationship that he would run screaming. The crew was willing to work with him, mostly on principle, as long as Liam never figured out what exactly they were doing.

They’d made sure whoever was on that night had dropped one of the many words for whore as often as possible within Jared’s hearing, they refused to do anything other than polite gestures, and Jensen’s personal favorite at the time had been when he’d walked into the club Jared had been taken to with the world’s clingiest twink. The look in Jared’s eyes had been gratifying. At least, it had then, but now Jensen was starting to wonder.

He’d figured it was simple, that Jared was a simple case, and he’d put it all aside. All his reservations, all his doubts, anything that could have been considered a positive word about the man he’d spent two years with was tucked underneath that blinding rage and heartbreak. Now though…

Now Jensen was starting to wonder what he’d missed. What had slipped past his notice while he was so involved in his own heartbreak. It wasn’t that Jared was unhappy, because of course he was, it was that Jared was hurt and terrified. That he was lashing out on a regular basis to keep Jensen at a distance, and that didn’t make much sense at all.

Even if he could believe that Jared was the type of guy to whore around for position or money, and that was starting to come into question, the guy wasn’t actively malicious. Didn’t have a mean bone in his body really, and Jensen had known that once upon a time. Sandy and Chad knew something, but they were loyal to Jared. Jensen needed someone who wouldn’t be ready to keep the younger man’s secrets. Someone who would sympathize with him.

Which was how he found himself using valuable planning time for a meet at Sterling’s house, sipping his beer as Sterling’s wife sniffled and offered him more snack food.

“No thanks ma’am. I’m really alright. I just need to talk to Sterling.”

She gave him a knowing look before placing a kiss on her husband’s bald pate and stepping out of the room. Jensen wondered how long she’d known her hubby was in the life, and how she reconciled that. It was something he’d considered more than once when he thought about telling Jared half of the truth.

“So what’d you need Jensen?” Sterling’s eyes roamed over the game on TV once before landing on him.

“I was wondering who broke Jared’s wrist.” It wasn’t a question, and from the suddenly tight look on Sterling’s face it didn’t need to be.

“Jensen I don’t think-“

“I just want to know Sterling. If Liam has already taken-“ and then all the breath went out of him, because that was pity on Sterling’s face. It wasn’t pity that Jensen had expected.

In the five years he’d been in the Pileggi organization Jensen had learned a lot of lessons. The first, and most important for his sanity, was that criminals had two faces, and both of those faces were real and honest. It should have been a contradiction, he’d believed it was for the longest time, but Jared had taught him differently.

Hands that had become devoted to hurting, to scaring, had been able to hold Jared’s angular face gently. Fingers that had pulled countless triggers could stroke moles so softly Jared would complain of tickling even as he beamed. Jensen had been able to come home from a particularly hard job, wash the blood off, and then smile and joke with Jared like nothing had happened. Because when he was on the job that was Jensen the Enforcer, but when he was at home he was just a man who was helplessly in love with a big kid.

The look Sterling was giving him now reminded him of all of that, even as the man’s voice began to shatter the rest of his delusions. “I know it’s hard on you Jensen. Shit, it would kill me, but you didn’t ask Pileggi for retribution and now the time for it has passed. You’ve got to let him go.”

Retribution. It hadn’t occurred to Jensen to ask for it, because as far as he knew it didn’t qualify. Occasional mindless violence aside they weren’t a gang. The big difference being that a mob was all about money and family. They were the two sacred creeds, and you never messed with either. A man with a family that was respected by his boss was a man with something to protect, and something to lose. A family made you stable, and it made you vulnerable.

In a well-organized mob it was understood that a happy significant other was one who wasn’t going to turn state’s evidence. To that end if they wanted to leave then you let them leave. If it looked like they’d turn snitch then that would be dealt with, but in the meantime you never pissed off a partner. Asking Pileggi for retribution in this case would have been pointless because Jared had decided to leave Jensen of his own free will. It had nothing to do with the other man being Pileggi’s son. The Don wasn’t interested in nepotism, and he’d proven that by given his feckless offspring no responsibility or duty beyond looking good and not besmirching the family name.

Retribution would only have been available if Liam had lobbied for Jared. If Liam had tried to take Jared away, or had done so by force.

“Why did Jared hook up with Liam? What aren’t you telling me?”

The look of pity turned into one of confusion. “What are you talking about? Jensen I thought everybody knew.”

He had to bite down on his anger, and then while his hand clenched and unclenched he forced himself to meet Sterling’s eyes and keep his gaze steady. “Well I’m not everybody, and apparently everybody didn’t see fit to tell me. What exactly is it I’m out of the loop on?”

“Liam pushed your boy to leave. I don’t know what he said, but I took him over to your boy’s apartment more than once, and the last time I did Liam came out looking very pleased with himself. That was two days before you two broke up and Jared officially became Liam’s. I could hear shouting, but I really don’t know how he did it man. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

“If everybody knew why the fuck did they help me make him so miserable?”

Sterling lifts his eyebrow and settles back into his chair. “You don’t have the most pleasant of reputations. We all figured you kind of hated the kid for folding.”

Jensen’s blood had apparently been replaced with ice water. “Who broke Jared’s wrist?”

Sterling looked away for all of two seconds before his eyes settled back on Jensen’s face. “You know who broke it Jensen. You know, and you know that there’s nothing you can do about it. You have to let him go now. For your own sake.”

Except that wasn’t really an option. Because Jensen had brought Jared into this, had introduced him to Liam, and had made him vulnerable. Then, when Jared needed him most, Jensen had let himself be blinded by his broken heart and his wounded pride. Jensen had fed Jared to the wolves.

---

When he was fourteen Jensen was sure that the world ran on nothing but baseball and Lucas Reinhold. His first crush was their catcher, and the two of them had kissed the day before behind the bleachers. It hadn’t been Jensen’s first kiss, but it was his first boy. He wasn’t sure yet if he’d tell his parents, and that particular problem was all he was thinking about when he came home.

So seeing his aunt standing on the front porch waiting for him didn’t immediately set off any alarms. After all, she liked to visit his mom on a pretty regular basis, and she usually didn’t schedule those visits. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the steps that her red, wet eyes caught his attention, and Jensen dropped his glove and sprinted the rest of the way to her.

The story was simple. Jensen was a logical kid who grew into a fairly rational man, and he could follow it without much trouble. His parents had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A mob hit, someone so controversial they had to be taken halfway across the country before they could be executed and dumped into the Gulf of Mexico.

His father had died at the scene, but his mother had lived through the trip to the hospital. She died two days later. She never woke up. It would be years before Jensen was allowed to see the pictures of the crime scene, the car riddled with bullets, the blood splatters. What he did see was his mother’s pale face, the bandage applied over the hole in her skull, and the way her hand seemed to be made of china. The hand that had wiped his tears away when he was little and still prone to crying, the one that had always fussed with his hair before important events, and the one that just that morning had stroked his cheek and adjusted his glasses before sending him off to practice.

At fourteen Jensen was an orphan, and his aunt tearfully took him in. He changed after that. Became quiet in a way that unsettled his classmates, had odd moments of violence, and most importantly he got rid of Lucas. Connections, love, any sort of emotion really made you vulnerable, and Jensen Ackles could no longer be vulnerable.

At sixteen he spent several months in juvie. One too many fights for the local authorities to ignore, and his aunt tearful again as they locked him in and told him it was for his own good. An extra three months for a fight inside that resulted in the other kid losing two teeth and getting his jaw wired shut.

He was eighteen when his godfather showed up from Boston and set an ultimatum. He could get his shit straight and come to Boston to be something, or he could devolve into the very sort of animal that killed his parents.

Jensen’s father had been a good man. An engineer, volunteer in the community, deacon at their church. His mother baked cookies, taught at the elementary school, and loved her family more than anything in the world. They’d taught Jensen that the first and most important aspect of living was doing it right. Making your impact on the world be something that you could be proud of, and being a force for others to look to. Every interaction, his father would say, meant something. Everyone, whether they recognized it or not, could be changed and influenced in a moment by the people around them. Jensen’s father had believed that the whole world could be made better by tiny positive interactions, and when he was a boy Jensen had believed the same thing.

But at eighteen, with a track record that no one would be proud of and two headstones he visited every year Jensen believed something a little different. Jensen believed that it only took a second to destroy someone’s world, but that a lifetime wasn’t enough to return that level of suffering.

So he accepted his godfather’s offer, and he moved with Jeff to Boston. Then he got started on that lifetime.

---

When he got to the apartment the door was cracked, and Jensen heard raised voices somewhere deeper inside. He pulled his gun on instinct, flipped the safety off and rested his finger outside of the trigger guard even as he eased his way inside. The first, and loudest, voice resolved itself into the ever annoying Chad Michael Murray.

“-leave! My dad said he’d pay for you to take a vacation Jay. Anywhere, you name it and you can go. Hell, take off back to Texas and gather cattle or whatever it is you shitkickers do. Anything but staying here, because the way this is going you’re going to get seriously hurt. He broke your goddamn arm!”

Jared’s voice is softer, slightly fuzzy, and Jensen imagines he’s taken a painkiller or two already. “You know I can’t Chad. You know I need-“

“Fuck Ackles! Fuck him and the rest of them! Why do you have to protect him when the fucker obviously doesn’t give two shits about you?”

“Because he’s a good guy Chad. You don’t understand. You don’t know what I said to him or-“

There is the sound of something crashing, a loud grunt, and then Chad’s voice angrier and harder than Jensen has ever heard it before. Gone is the flippant asshole, gone is all manner of joking. In its place is something desperate and hard. Jensen has heard that voice before, but it usually came at the wrong end of a gun.

“I don’t give two shits if the guy is a cop. Fuck his whole sting operation or whatever it’s called. It’s not worth your life Jay. It’s not worth your life if he can’t even be bothered to recognize you wouldn’t-”

But Jensen has heard enough. There should have been no way that Jared would know that. Five years of being undercover with the organization, three years of pretending in jail, and even the men he was supposedly a brother to have no idea what he really is. None of them know that a gold shield is waiting for him on the other side of all of this. None of them know where he’d really gotten his scar.

Jensen pushes through the bedroom door and takes in the two of them, Jared pressed against the wall by Chad with his broken wrist in between them and a look of anguish on his face. Chad’s mouth is twisted in fury and eyes narrowed down to slits. Jensen re-engages the safety on his gun and then levels his gaze on Chad. “Get out.”

In seconds the slighter man has let go of Jared in favor of coming at Jensen, and he easily deflects both blows before grabbing Chad’s arm and twisting it up behind his back in one smooth motion. Chad lets out a cry and Jared holds out both hands in an attempt to beg or placate. Jensen doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

“Fuck you motherfucker! Fuck you! You left him to this! It’s your fault that he-“

Chad rants all the way to the door, and then goes silent when Jensen gives his wrist a hard twist before pushing him out of the door. They stare at each other for a long time, and then Jensen clears his throat and points down the hall. “I know what I did. I’m going to fix it. Leave.”

With that Jensen shuts the door in Chad’s face and then turns around to find Jared standing in the short hallway, clutching a doorframe and looking so pale and fragile it’s hard to remember that he is incredibly tall and ripped.

“Jensen you shouldn’t-“

“Tell me I shouldn’t be here and I’ll start throwin’ shit sweetheart.” The place isn’t big, and it takes seconds for him to reach Jared and gently cup his chin. “What the fuck did you do Jay?”

For a moment defiance wars with something darker and deeper, and then the up-turned hazel eyes he’d fallen in love with fill with tears and Jared’s head slumps into his touch. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Didn’t want me to know what, Jay? What crazy fucking ideas been going through that head of yours?”

Jared takes one deep breath, another, and then pulls back and rubs at his face. “Liam came here.” He sounds dead and buried, and Jensen fights the urge to reach out for him. “He kept hitting on me, and I kept saying no. I thought he’d get the picture, but one day he showed up with this envelope. Had a picture of you on your graduation day. In uniform.”

He doesn’t need Jared to go on. Jensen knows where this story is going. Can picture in his head Jared standing in the shabby little living room with a photo of him in blue as Liam gives him an ultimatum. A threat that Jared, stupid, gorgeous, big-hearted Jared, couldn’t deny.

“He said you were undercover. That he’d expose you if I didn’t agree. That you’d-that Pileggi would kill you even if all you were was two-bit muscle with no real information.”

And Liam would think that. He has no idea how his father’s business is run, or how important Jensen has become. His playboy bullshit has kept him out of the loop for so long that it isn’t surprising his father hasn’t told him about the weapons deal that is coming up, or how lowly Jensen Ackles was in charge of security for it. Which meant Liam has no idea how much danger his father’s business, and his legacy, is currently in.

The only question is how Liam figured it out when his paranoid father has never even gotten a whiff.

“So I agreed.” Then Jared’s face turns up, and Jensen can see how haggard and pale it is. The desperation and fear there, and if it was feasible he’d take himself out back and put a bullet in his fucking brain for putting it there. For putting Jared in this position, and then not backing him or taking care of him. Then Jared finishes breaking his heart. “And I’m so sorry, Jen. So sorry for hurting you and lying to you, but I needed you to back off. I needed you to be safe, and you weren’t gonna let it go. I just had to be sure you’d be safe.”

And Jensen had been safe. Wrapped up in his grief and anger he’d been as safe as this life could be while Jared was being hurt, being forced to-

The time in between Jared apologizing and Jared grabbing desperately at his forearm is lost to Jensen, but the hole in the wall and the blood smeared across his knuckles tells its own story. He can hear the sound coming from his own mouth, the howl of rage and anguish, and Jared wraps him up and presses him close making the oddest soothing noises Jensen has ever heard. He doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend how this man is willing to touch him after Jensen had basically offered his lover up on a platter. Had let him be raped, beaten, humiliated and all because Jensen was too stupid and willful to see the truth.

Jensen remembers his father’s admonitions, about how tiny little interactions could become life-changing moments, and all of it comes to this moment. He’s been so consumed, so interested in the job, that he’s missed what was right in front of him. How he’d turned Jared, twisted him, and then left him.

“Why? Why would you do this to yourself?” Underneath his face Jared’s chest shifts once, and then the heartbeat he can feel against his cheek slows just a little.

“Because you told me the truth. You’re a good guy, and you were in trouble. Because I love you Jen.”

Of course. Of fucking course.

He pulls back and thumbs Jared’s sharp cheekbone once before collecting himself. He has to have it together. He has to fix this. “Chad’s right. You’re gonna pack your shit and take a trip sweetheart. You’re getting out of this goddamn city tonight.”

Defiance comes up again, and Jensen curses at it even as he pulls back and away from Jared’s hold. He isn’t willing to listen to the self-sacrificing arguments. Jared is leaving, tonight, and Jensen won’t hear anything different. He storms his way into Jared’s bedroom, grabs a duffel from the tiny closet, and starts throwing clothes in. He can hear Jared breathing behind him. “Jen I can’t-“

“Yes. You can. Where the fuck are Harley and Sadie?”

“Liam didn’t-they’re staying with Chad. Jensen if I leave-“

“When you leave darlin’. When you leave.”

“I’m not. I’m not, because you know he can do it. He can expose you.”

“Let him.” It’s a growl, much harsher than he intended, but there nonetheless. “I don’t give two shits. You’re getting out of here and you’re gonna be safe. That’s priority one, and my safety comes second. No more of this sacrificial lamb bullshit Jay you’re gone as of now.”

“Jensen you’re not listening to me. This is my choice. I made it and I’m going to stick with it so that-“

He drops the sneaker he’d been stuffing into the mess of clothes and personal items and turns to see the panicked look on Jared’s face. “So that what? I get another day of not being outted while you let that lyin’ swindlin’ bastard touch you? Hurt you? I can’t live with that Jay. Sure, you saved my ass, but you didn’t think of the rest of it. How you think that makes me feel? Knowin’ what I know now about how you been hurting? I can’t live with it Jay. I can’t.” He steps forward and covers Jared’s mouth before he can argue. “I love you. Too much to see you being treated this way. I fucked up, and I can’t apologize enough for that, but I can do this. I got two or three more days before the big bust and then I’m out Jay. In the meantime I can’t do my job knowing that you’re-“ His voice betrays him, craps out mid-sentence, and all he can do is stare into those big and soft eyes and hope Jared understands the message he is trying to convey.

“You’ll go to a bar downtown tonight called Pieces. It’s on the East side. The bartender is a shorter dude, stocky, longish blonde hair. You tell him who you are. He’s gonna get you outta here Jay. No more arguments sweetheart. Promise me.”

Shaggy hair dips down for half a second before Jared lifts his head and meets Jensen’s gaze seriously. “I can’t leave you to- you know what they’ll do Jen. You know.”

“Yeah. I know. And it would be better than losing you to him. Than letting you get hurt.” His hand disobeys his brain and reaches out to cup Jared’s face, tilt it up so that he can look into the multi-colored eyes. “I was a real asshole Jared, and I can’t make up for that, but I can do this. Let me do this.”

And then Jared is surging forward, lips pressed to Jensen’s and one hand tangling in the short hair at the base of his skull while the other presses against him and the cast attached to it rubs heavily. It’s bittersweet, the pain that’s encapsulated all this time apart mixed with the sweetness and bliss that defined the beginning of their relationship.

Jensen should break it off, move away from him and get the space necessary to convince Jared that leaving is his only option before something worse happens to him. He should, but he can’t. This is his last chance at having this, at being with the man he loves, and there’s no way he’ll waste it.

Jared pulls back just enough to breathe across Jensen’s slick lips, to mutter low and soft. “I forgive you. I love you too Jensen. Come with me if I leave?”

It’s not really something he should be proud of, but at this point lying to Jared is a bit second nature.

“Okay. If you promise to go I’ll follow.”

From there it’s a short trip to the bedroom. They’re all hands and mouths, Jared’s tongue finding its way past Jensen’s lips and those big hands traveling every inch of him and making short work of his shirt. Jensen has to slow him, respond to his desperation with gentleness and sweetness.

He takes his time pulling Jared’s shirt off, is as careful of the cast as he can be, and at the sight of fading bruises on Jared’s torso Jensen sucks in a breath and bites down his rage. Jared cries out once, pain and pleasure when Jensen kisses one spot softly and then brushes his fingers up Jared’s sides.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. It doesn’t look like there’s a way to do this without hurting you.” His hands stall out on the button of Jared’s jeans, and his mouth is pressed against a patch of unblemished skin just underneath his navel.

“Don’t care – Jen, please, I don’t care. You gotta, you gotta do something. I’ve been wanting this for too long.”

And that’s enough. That breaks what last bit of control he had and he unbuttons Jared’s jeans and pulls them and his boxers down in one practiced move. It’s too easy, too familiar, and everything that follows stretches out in front of him like hometown terrain. Jensen mouths his way from Jared’s navel, along the sharp v-cut of his hips, and circles the ultimate prize.

Jared’s already half-hard, thighs trembling under Jensen’s hands as he moans and squirms. Long fingers tangle in the sheets, and Jensen reaches up and entwines their fingers before licking a slow stripe along the length of Jared’s cock. It tastes just right, smells just the way he remembered, and Jared lets out the same whimper he always did when the real action started.

“Jensen don’t – Jesus, don’t tease.”

But that’s the point. Everything he hasn’t been able to do for the last few months, everything he’ll miss in however long he has left, and whatever comes after, has to be done now. Tonight.

“Shhh, sweetheart I got you. I’m gonna take care of you.” His tongue traces patterns along the velvety skin, soaks in the taste of Jared’s shaft before he flattens it at the head and seeps up the salty precome waiting for him there. Jared’s mouth is open, moans pouring out as he tries not to buck up into Jensen’s mouth despite how overwhelming the urge obviously is.

Jensen slips his fingers from Jared’s and then hooks his hands under the muscled thighs to lift them up easily. He settles them over his shoulders and then licks his way over Jared’s balls, nuzzles once before sucking some of the skin in softly and playing with it. Jared’s gasping now, hips moving in tight little motions as his legs twitch on Jensen’s shoulders.

From there it’s a slow trip, down and over the perineum until Jensen’s pushing Jared up higher to dip his tongue against the furled entrance. Jared tastes just right, musky and earthy, and Jensen alternates flattening his tongue against Jared’s hole and circling just the tip along the muscle.

“Holy shit – Jen, Jen oh my god. Jensen please.”

He doesn’t pull back, keeps his lips pressed against Jared’s hole when he speaks.

“Please what baby? What do you want me to do?”

“Eat – eat me out.” He can hear the blush, looks up to see the flush of blood in Jared’s chest as he tries to cover his face with his cast. It’s always been one of Jensen’s favorite things to do but half the fun is having Jared say it.

He goes for broke, the shamed lust in Jared’s voice so perfect it deserves a reward, and Jensen lets his hands slip down to part Jared’s cheeks fully so that he can bury his face in. His tongue dances along the rim, one thumb stretching to add random spots of pressure as he licks at it.

Jared is gasping and moaning, his fingers buried in Jensen’s hair as his cock bobs hard and full above Jensen’s head.

For his own part Jensen is already hard enough to pound nails, more than ready to sink deep into the tight hole that his tongue is trying to get into, but this is about more than getting off.

That’s hard to remember in the moment though.

Muscle fights his entrance, but Jensen hooks his thumb as gently as he can and pulls slightly so that he can get his tongue past the first ring. He presses his mouth tight against the hole and spears his tongue in and out, mimicking what his cock will soon be doing as Jared cries out above him.

“Fuck, fuck, Jensen please. Please fu-fuck me with-fuck me with your tongue. Harder!”

And he complies, speeds up the rhythm and works his tongue faster and deeper and Jared starts to relax against his mouth. When he’s gotten loose enough Jensen works a finger into the spit slick hole and moves it beside his tongue. Jared is clamping down on him, heels digging into Jensen’s back as he humps down onto the tongue and digit combination.

“Jensen I’m – oh fuck I’m gonna come just from –“

But he can’t. It has to last longer. Jensen pulls his tongue from Jared’s hole, slides the finger out slow and careful, and then slithers back on his knees to grip Jared’s ankles and lift them. He starts at the knob of bone on the left, and then begins a long and torturous route of kisses up Jared’s calf and towards his groin.

It’s supposed to be something special, something gentle, but when Jensen looks up from the beginning of his descent down Jared’s right leg he sees tears in Jared’s eyes.

“Jay? Jared am I hurting you?” It’s hard to ask, to work past the sudden lump in his throat, and Jared shakes his head before reaching out with grabby hands and gesturing Jensen in.

He settles between the v of Jared’s legs, cock still hard despite his concern, and is surprised when Jared presses lube he must have gotten from their under the mattress stash before meeting Jensen’s eyes.

“Please.”

There’s nothing else. No context and no real request, but Jensen doesn’t need one. He knows what it means.

Jensen squirts lube into his palm before slicking his shaft and gripping the base tight to angle the head of his dick against Jared’s entrance still loose and slick with spit.

He should say something. Tell Jared how much it means to have this again, to be allowed inside despite all the damage he’s done and the pain he’s caused. Maybe he could extol the virtues of the younger man beneath him, explain to Jared that since the day his parents died he’s never loved anything until the day he walked into that vet’s office and saw Jared’s smile.

If Jensen was feeling like being particularly vulnerable he could tell Jared that being with him, holding his hand, was the only time he forgot what it was like to sit in the laundry room of the prison he’d been incarcerated in for his cover and hold the little shank, consider his options, before slicing his own stomach open to give himself credibility.

But all of it is meaningless. At this point words have only brought them trouble, and Jared knows how he feels. Has preserved their love even as Jensen denigrated and twisted it. Kept it safe for the two of them so that when the time was right they could come right back here to Jared’s bed and live in it again for just a little while.

He sinks in slow, holding himself so that the tightness of Jared doesn’t end this too soon, and uses his free hand to pull Jared’s face so that he can look directly into his eyes. Jared is still crying softly, never a pretty sight but wholly endearing even in this moment, and Jensen thinks he gets it.

“I’m sorry Jay. I’m sorry this is how it is.”

“But you’re – I’m yours and you’re mine again, right? Right Jensen?”

He presses his forehead against Jared’s and pushes all the way in until his balls are resting against the hot skin of Jared’s ass and his hand is buried completely in Jared’s hair.

“That’s the way it’s always been sweetheart. Always been and always will.”

And it’s true. Even when he hated Jared he loved him, and there’s never been a time when he didn’t want him. When he didn’t long for this particular brand of closeness. If it all goes down tomorrow the way it’s supposed to by some minor miracle then Jensen can have this. He can keep Jared safe in the circle of his arms and forget the past for once.

But more likely this is it, and Jensen doesn’t plan on wasting it. Jared will have a life. He’ll find someone who’s honest and kind, and be happy. That’s what Jensen wants for him, and that’s the best he can offer. A goodbye that won’t break Jared’s heart completely.

They move together, Jared’s legs wrapping around him and his back arching as Jensen sets the pace the way Jared always preferred, deep and steady. He knows the angle to reach Jared’s prostate, the right way to stroke Jared’s thigh to ramp him up, and all the places he can kiss to make the younger man crazy.

Nibbles along his collarbone, wet sucking kisses over the length of his neck, and steady reassurances that he loves Jared, that he’s never wanted anyone this much, and that he will never let go.

Jared’s hands scrabble at his back, grab onto his ass and pull him in deeper to speed him up, and Jensen loves it, loves how easy it is, how natural to have Jared coming undone in his hands. The sounds he makes push Jensen over the edge, sudden and unexpected, and Jensen rides it out and jerks Jared off as fast as he can so that the end of his orgasm is the beginning of Jared’s.

It’s a perfect cycle.

Jensen can’t drive Jared to the bar, can’t risk it this close to the event, and he has to be as careful as he possibly can. He’s already doomed himself one way.

So he writes a note, simple, easy, reminding Jared of where he’s supposed to go and who he’s supposed to find, and adds the fake promise that he’ll come after Jared.

Because lying really is easy these days. Because Jensen is a liar.

----

Mike shifts nervously from one foot to the other, eyes focused on the door and hands shoved in his pockets.

“What’s taking them so fucking long?”

This is the last time Jensen will stand around with his crew. The last time he’ll be forced to smile and nod like this is all normal and alright.

Like they aren’t monsters, and like he doesn’t belong with each of them.

Sterling comes around the corner and gives the signal, and Jensen takes it and heads through the door of the warehouse and into the main event. Misha is standing beside his bosses, eyes squinty and overly serious as he surveys the layout and doesn’t bother to even try to give Jensen a signal.

Which is the actual signal Jensen is pretty sure.
Jensen waits, and when Mitch comes in and steps beside him that’s the last piece, and the puzzle is complete. Which means Liam hasn’t told him shit, and Jensen isn’t sure if he should be grateful or not. It feels like the axe is hovering over his head.

“You have all of it?”

Abram nods carefully and considers Mitch for a moment before speaking.

“If you have the money.”

His fake boss’s grin turns feral. “Always.”

Misha shifts then, catches Jensen’s eyes, and there’s the slightest quirk of his brow. Nothing that would be noticed by anyone who wasn’t sitting on the insanely paranoid side of hyper-aware. Jensen catches it though, and he drops so quickly the cement floor of the warehouse bruises his knees and rips his palms open.

And then the world explodes in gunfire, and Jensen is keeping low and moving as fast as he can. This is not to plan, nothing they could have forseen, and Jensen knows that the time has come. He fingers open his cell as he keeps low and moves behind crates, hits the speed dial button, and says one word into the phone.

“Dallas.”

It’s his officer safe word, the one he’s only supposed to say if things get so fucked there’s no turning around, and this is that moment. The sting wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes, long enough for them to inspect the shipment of guns and then agree to the deal. Everyone is in place, he knows that, but this isn’t a simple bust anymore.

This is a shoot out.

Mike collapses beside him, hand pressed over his stomach and blood blooming under his fingers. “Shit. Shit. Fucking trigger happy, back-stabbing, Ruskie bastards.”

And Jensen more than agrees. His own gun is in his hand, reflex instead of decision, and the sound in the warehouse is defeaning, gunpowder smell overwhelming as the two groups fire on each other.

He needs to stay low, stay here, because when the team comes in there’s going to be a lot more firepower going off, and Jensen knows better than to get in the middle of it. Except without the deal going down there’s no conviction, and that means his dead parents and all the sacrifices he’s made up until this point are moot in the face of Pileggi walking again. It’s too tenuous, and the slippery bastard has walked too many times before.

Jensen nods at Mike’s stomach, “They got you down for the count man. Where’s Mitch? I’ll get him.”

Mike’s eyes are grateful as he presses his stomach harder. “Yeah, ok. He ducked two stacks over. Just-Jesus this fucking hurts- just make sure you get him.”

“Yeah. I’ll get him.”

Jensen scans the layout. Across from him Misha is firing badly, trying to keep cover without actually hitting anyone. They lock eyes for half a second, and from the intense stare Jensen guesses that Misha knows what’s about to happen.

There’s a warning there, something his fellow officer is trying to convey to him, but it’s already moving. A domino effect that started that day with Jensen’s glove in his hand and has just now come to the grand finale. Jensen stays low, moves fast, and there’s a line of fire that blooms across his back before he comes crashing down behind the crates.

Mitch is there, steely eyes narrowed as he reloads his gun. He turns to Jensen and smiles, sharp and predatory, and then slams the clip into place.

“Glad to have you son. Time to-“

It’s like being outside of his body. Jensen can see the whole thing with a clarity that the world has only possessed when he’s with Jared. Mitch is there in front of him, smile dying and body tightening as Jensen lifts his gun and points.

“This for what my son did? ‘Cause I’ll be honest boy, I don’t have any responsibility for what my son’s dick touches.”

His finger brushes the trigger, solid metal comforting and familiar, and there it is. The moment, balanced on the edge, when Jensen can fall or fly if he can just find the right words to mobilize his own goddamn hand.

“No. You’ll never know what this was for.”

And then he pulls the trigger, and everything is over.

There’s still the sounds going off around him, the explosive rounds as Pileggi’s men share bullets with the Russians, and then the targeted charges that signal Jensen’s team breaking in. He can hear the shouting, the bullhorn announcing the presence of the authorities, and the sudden upsurge in gunfire.

When it finally goes quiet a flak-jacketed officer comes around the side of the crate and scans the scene before pulling the helmet off.

“Jenny? You ok man?”

Chris. It’s Chris. Jensen closes his eyes and the world goes dark.

----

Words fly past him, and they’re probably important but god only knows why. He got hit, they say something about him needing blood, and then he goes back to sleep.

Jensen wakes up again to a hospital bed. He’s on his side, IV planted firmly in one arm and Chris slumped in the chair in front of him with his feet propped up on Jensen’s bed right next to his face.

“Get your muddy fucking boots off my pillow.”

Chris flies forward, eyes wide and bright before they crinkle into laughter.

“That would be your first words you cranky bastard. You gave everybody quite the scare. Why’d you go through with this fucking thing if your cover was blown?”

“What-what are you talking about?” Jensen tries to sit up, but the pain that lances through his back is too intense.

The blue becomes somber, serious, and then Chris leans in close enough that Jensen can smell the lingering traces of the coffee he must have last had and a little bit of whiskey.

“Events are getting pieced together pretty haphazardly Jenny, but it’s been decided that Pileggi’s boy outted you, and Pileggi turned on you during the sting. You must of shot him in self-defense.”

Jensen sighs, slumps back down into the mattress and feels the overly starched linens against his skin as he closes his eyes. It’s a fucking miracle. He gets his revenge, he gets his badge, and he gets Jared. Jared saved his future, and Jensen can pay him back now.

“Where’d you end up putting my boy? I’m surprised he didn’t come with you so he could berate me.”

The silence goes on too long, leaves Jensen cold and exposed, and when he opens his eyes Chris is staring at him in horror.

“Jensen what-what are you talking about?”

“Jared came to you to-he was- how did you know about Pileggi’s kid and me?”

“Your boy-I guess he’s your boy again- he called me. Said you told him to tell me you were in danger of being exposed, but by then you’d confirmed the bust and we didn’t want to risk anything in case the info was wrong. Where was I supposed to be putting him?”

It takes fifteen minutes to talk Chris into letting Jensen out of the hospital bed, and another precious twenty to get him to help Jensen sneak out of the building entirely.

Which is the last time there’s any constraint, because Chris breaks every traffic law he can including a minor hit and run with a parked car getting them across town and to Jared’s apartment before any more time passes.

Except the door is open. The door is open and the chain is broken, the place trashed beyond all measure, and blood everywhere.

Chris reaches to hold Jensen up but he can’t be touched, can’t be supported, and his heavy feet seem intent on making as much noise as possible while he lumbers across the space and towards the bedroom he made love to Jared in the night before.

And there he is. Beautiful face swollen, smeared with blood, and eyes closed. Still and peaceful. Sweet.

Everything Jensen ever believed he wanted was in his hands, and now it’s all ashes. Dreams crumbled, hope destroyed, and he steps forward ignoring Chris’s call and stumbles over some heavy thing in the middle of the floor.

Jensen looks down, and his eyes settle on the too still body of Liam Pileggi, butcher knife buried in his sternum and face twisted in rage. His eyes move up from the corpse, land on Jared again, and there it is. The tiniest of movements, chest hitching on shallow little breaths, and then Jensen is a hurricane of movement.

They call it in, Chris pulling rank in the face of Jensen’s desperation, and however long it takes the ambulance, because Jensen’s rationally sure it’s not an eternity, he spends holding Jared in his arms and talking to him.

“Hey sweetheart, hey, you did a good job, a good goddamn job. But you ain’t done yet. You hear me? You ain’t done. You gotta come back so you can tell me I ruined your life and you never want to see me again. Stay with me Jared, stay with me so you can leave me baby. Please. Please, oh god please. Please don’t leave me like this.”

----

A grand total of fifty-eight stitches, Jared is short blood and badly injured, but they have hope. The gut wound, the most troubling of the ones that Liam dealt him before Jared turned the knife on him, managed to miss knicking the intestines and as a result Jared skirted septic shock and a quick death by millimeters.

On the other hand he’s badly scarred. Hasn’t woken up, and Jensen is banned from seeing him. There’s paperwork to take up his time. Official inquests galore, and when Jeff hands him his badge Jensen accepts it quietly and with little fanfare. Danni and Chris try to get him to live a little, to perk up, but all he can do is wait and wonder.

Days pass, weeks, and then Jensen is finally told something. Jared is awake. He has not asked for Jensen. He learns this from Sandy, because Chad’s only conversation was to throw a punch Jensen didn’t bother to block.

And that’s how he finds himself standing outside of Jared’s hospital room door after hours with flowers in one hand and his eyes searching for roving nurses who will catch him breaking visitor’s hours rules and throw him out.

Logically, this will end badly. Jensen knows it. He had a chance. A chance to do the right thing, to spread good, and instead he abandoned Jared one last time and left him to become a killer. The gentle giant that Jensen fell in love with has murdered a man, and while Jensen would argue every second of the rest of his life, and find no counter arguments he’s sure, that Liam deserved it that doesn’t change the facts.

This is what his dad should have taught him. What he thought he’d learned that day when they were gunned down in their car. Violence builds on violence until there’s nowhere else to go and nothing to do. The end game of vengeance is ruin.

Someone once said before you embark on a journey of revenge you should dig two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself.

Jensen dug three.

The door handle is hard to push, the door itself weighs a thousand pounds, and Jensen steps through into the quiet hospital room and listens to the beeping of the heart monitor as he takes in the flower arrangements and balloons strewn across the room. Jared is on the bed, pale and washed out under the sheets.

He closes the door behind him quietly, carries his dinky bouquet and feels out of place and stupid surrounded by the evidence of people who actually love Jared the way he should be loved. It’s selfish to be here, it will end in misery, but he has to do it. Has to get the closure.

Jensen sits for a long time in the uncomfortable chair, stares at Jared sleeping and memorizes the moles and cheekbones, the soft pink lips, and the rasp of stubble that he longs to touch. Then he reaches out and brushes Jared’s hair from his eyes before he speaks.

“Jay?”

Slanted, multi-colored eyes open slowly, bleary with sleep, and blink before they focus on him.

“Je-Jensen?”

“Hey. Hey I just-uh-I came to give you flowers. And to- well-I guess to let you get-“

“Get in the bed stupid. I’m tired.”

Jensen freezes in place and then closes his eyes.

“Jared I’m not- you don’t have to do this.”

There’s a laugh, low and pained, and then a hand grips his tight to the point of pain.

“No. No, but you do. Get in the bed. We’ll argue another time.”

And Jensen gets in.