Paw Prints

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Master Post

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 16:27:26 GMT

"Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you."
~N.Hawthorne

Quote courtesy of taliosi_x.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four
Chapter Five (Part One) | Chapter Five (Part Two)
Art Post | Notes & Soundtrack

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Notes & Soundtrack

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 16:22:00 GMT

Being able to participate in this challenge was such a pleasure; I've really enjoyed it. I haven't written fanfic for a number of years, so this was a big jump back into something I had really missed. I have a few thank-yous to give out!

chase_acow: Happy birthday! Thanks so much for spending the time to pour over my rusty writing and help shape this story into something I think is much better than my original draft!

taliosi_x: Your art. Oh my god, your art. I couldn't have wished for anything better - this was PERFECT. I'm tickled pink, thrilled, whatever words you want to use to express how amazed I am.

Notes:

This fic came about while I was listening to Snow Patrol's CD A Hundred Million Suns. The first track, If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It, had some lyrics that simply spoke to me, and despite this story being from Jared's perspective, the song is all from Jensen's. Due to a computer wipe during this time, I didn't get my song act together to ask my artist make up a cover for the soundtrack, so I hope this bare-bones version serves just as well.

Soundtrack:

Download the zip here!

1. Snow Patrol - If There's a Rocket Tie Me To It
2. VNV Nation - Carry You
3. Muse - Stockholm Syndrome
4. Silverchair - If You Keep Losing Sleep
5. Snow Patrol - Crack the Shutters
6. Sick Puppies - All the Same
7. Frou Frou - Hear Me Out
8. Dido - Here With Me
9. Everything Absent or Distorted - Beehive

Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Art Post

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 16:10:20 GMT

Because my artist, taliosi_x, had the chance to extend a fantastic vacation a few days, I'm making an art post for her. Please leave your comments here and tell her how amazing her art is! :)

Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter Five (Part 2)

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:53:09 GMT

Chapter Five, continued-

When Jared hesitantly climbed the steps to Jensen's front door the next day, the screen door hung open, the front door slightly ajar. A rush of panic nearly had him shoving his way into the house, but he knew it wouldn't do him any favors if Jensen was just one of those people who left his door open from time to time. So he knocked.

He felt a presence in the house - muted, but it was there. One thing he'd never been able to do was determine individuals from reading their emotions; feelings weren’t specific enough for him to make a personality call. The one coming towards the door registered curiosity, annoyance, and a little frustration.

Jared sucked in a deep breath, ran his hand through shaggy hair that desperately needed to be cut, and braced himself to come eye to eye with Jensen Ackles.

It threw him for a loop when the man who pulled open the door was nothing resembling Jensen. He was shorter than Jared, but a little bulkier. His square jaw and slightly heavy brow weren't displeasing to the eye, and Jared saw he had a dishtowel over his shoulder and a mug in one hand, clearly having been in the middle of drying it.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh. Yeah." Jared tried to assemble the pieces of his brain. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been a boyfriend, but it made perfect sense. Jensen was beautiful and smart and funny and probably was completely committed by now. But Jared still had to know what had driven him here. "I'm actually looking for Jensen Ackles."

The guy's eyebrows rose. "How do you know him?"

"We, uh, we went to school together." Lie better, he told himself. "I was traveling through town and thought I'd stop by and see him." He stuck out his hand. "Jared Padalecki."

“David Boreanez.”

“Good to meet you. Is Jensen home?”

David’s eyes flickered over Jared subtly, and Jared could tell that David didn’t trust him. “I’ve been working in my office all afternoon, so I’ll have to check to see if he’s home. Be right back.” He shut the door in Jared’s face, almost rudely.

Jared leaned up again the house’s siding, staring up at the afternoon sky. This was not going so well.

A minute passed before spike of Empathic shock snapped his eyes open, but the emotion had been so quick, Jared almost thought he imagined it. He reached out, trying to sense its source, and instead of coming back with one emotion inside the house, he got the faint image of two, barely. The first, clearly David's, still registered the same curiosity and annoyance as before, but this other, dimmer emotion was so jumbled Jared could hardly make heads or tails of it.

The front door swung open almost like it had been thrown, and the accompanying, outward-swinging screen door came open so quickly it smacked into Jared’s side and came bouncing back toward the house, eliciting an “ouch!” from a familiar-sounding voice. Jared stepped back into the entryway and saw Jensen there, cradling one hand where the door had clearly banged his knuckles.

“Jared!” Jensen’s voice was surprised, as if he hadn’t been expecting him, despite David’s apparent introduction. Jensen’s hand dropped forgotten to his side as his eyes widened and he obviously examined Jared from head to foot. “You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jared felt a nervous smile flutter cross his face and he couldn’t stop from sticking his hands in his pockets, ignoring the throbbing pain where the door had attacked his arm. A shy smile also crossed Jensen’s face, and it struck Jared how much he missed this man.

Jensen had clearly only gotten better with age, like a fine wine or a fine brandy or fine something, because damn – he was still fine. The piercing green eyes were still as bright as Jared remembered, framed by crow’s feet that showed that Jensen still laughed, and it was seeing that feature that had something deep inside Jared relax just the tiniest bit.

Jensen was still in shape. He wore a simple grey tee shirt and long blue jeans, but his feet were bare. Jared remembered those arms around him and the tender way they’d held him.

“You look good,” he heard himself say to fill the void that had opened up between them. It brought the small smile back to Jensen’s face.

“Yeah, you too.” Jensen tried to collect himself as he straightened up and said, “What are you doing here?” He felt a clear emotion of curiosity and Jared was almost overwhelmed knowing that he sensed this.

“I – I found out that you were living here and I had to come. Just, with everything – you know, um, I thought you were in trouble?” Jared and coherency were not relating, and the confused look on Jensen’s face told Jared he needed to try harder. “Well, see, you have this neighbor—“

“Is everything going ok?” David stepped into view next to Jensen, hand clapping possessively down onto Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen seemed unaware of the protective stance David had taken, but to Jared, the waves of hostility emanating from David were quite clear. The other man didn’t want him here.

“Fine,” Jared cut in before Jensen could speak. He wanted – needed – Jensen to hear him out, even if he was with this rather unfriendly petri dish specimen. Be nice, he told himself, but Jared hadn’t always been that good at listening to directions.

“You sure? Jen?” David cocked his head down to catch Jensen’s gaze.

“Sure, fine.” Jensen’s voice was hesitant, completely different from the moment before. Jared wondered what had just changed. Jensen’s emotions had once again become subdued and quiet, causing Jared to lose track of him again. “Just catching up.”

“I see.” David stepped forward, putting himself between Jensen and Jared. “We were working on some stuff, Jensen, so maybe now wouldn’t be the best time?”

Jared blinked, realizing that not only was David suggesting that visitation time was over, but there was also the unspoken assertion that Jared probably shouldn’t come back, and there was no way that suggestion was going over well.

“Hey, I’d really like to speak a few moments longer, if that’s possible. Maybe go for a coffee. Being that it’s been a while and all.” Jared wished he was up that next step into the house’s foyer because it would put him taller than David, who wasn’t earning any points with his behavior.

“Really, we were busy.” David’s quick smile was fake, and Jared had it.

“No, Jensen and I were talking and you came over and butted your head in. It’s clear from your attitude that you know who I am, or more importantly, who I was, and I don’t appreciate your insinuation that you know best. This is between Jensen and me.” He wrapped one hand around the screen door handle and opened it, not allowing David to keep the barrier in place.

“You don’t know one damn thing,” David said, words clipped in anger. “Jensen has very little sense in this respect, and I think it would be best if you left, Jared.”

Jared smiled around his sneer. “Only my friends get to call me Jared. You can call me Mister Padalecki, and preferably you can do it from another room.”

He returned his attention to Jensen. “Please, let’s talk?”

Jensen began to nod, and that was when David’s fist came out of nowhere, knocking Jared flat against the wooden baseboards of the porch. His head rebounded off the floor and it took him a minute to get his bearings, at the same time trying to watch for another attack. By the time he’d crawled to his knees, he came aware that Jensen was shouting at David to get back upstairs, and that he needed to keep his distance.

Jared was glad to hear it. Part of him had started to think that the Jensen he knew was gone and replaced by someone with no backbone. He couldn’t get a proper fix on the situation anymore, not with Jensen’s emotions fading in and out of readability and his new and exciting throbbing headache.

The saving grace was Jensen’s hand clasping his arm and helping him the rest of his way up and into the house, David nowhere in sight. Jared stumbled through the entryway and into a wide hallway with several rooms branching off of it. To the right, a living room filled with expensive-looking furniture. To the left, a small office.

They continued forward, and as they reached the end of the hallway, Jared looked up and came face to face with The Clock.

It wasn’t as tall upon first inspection, but the sharp edges and sleek, polished dark mahogany from the dream remained the same. In fact, that was the only thing that Jared could find that resembled the object of terror from so many nights’ sleep. Beyond that, the clock stood silent, nonworking, the hands stuck perpetually at 9:17. He vaguely wondered if it had stopped at 9:17 in the morning or night, as if it made any difference.

“Jared?” Jensen’s hand gripped his arm tighter and Jared realized he’d come to a complete stop in the hall, staring at the silent monolith in a combination of fascination and horror.

“Yeah.” Jared stumbled forward, trying to ignore the way that Jensen didn’t even seem to notice that the clock was there, like it was just another piece of furniture. What was it doing here? Where had it come from? Why?

Jensen pushed open a set of double doors and led Jared through into the kitchen, a spacious area that impressed Jared immediately. His shock over the clock aside, he would have been wowed upon entering this room no matter what.

It was clearly a man’s kitchen, with black marble countertops, dark cherry wood cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. Not that Jared would have considered it any different had it been in a woman’s house, he got the impression that this room had been specifically designed to Jensen’s tastes. It was beautiful.

A pot rack with expensive steel cookware hung above a center island that contained a gas stove and room to cut food. Behind the stove was a sink, and to its opposite side, the refrigerator. For a room this size to be in an old Denver house like this, Jared wondered what other room had been sacrificed.

He walked further in and saw a few photos on the fridge. One of David and Jensen wearing New Years Eve hats and holding drinks, clearly inebriated. Another, a postcard, flipped to reveal a picture of the Eiffel Tower. The last one took his breath away. It was a photo of him and Jensen on Field Day, lying in the grass and laughing. It must have been taken right after they won the three-legged race, but Jared couldn't remember anyone snapping a photo. They both looked so happy and young, and the familiar ache returned to his throat and he struggled to keep his tears inside.

"It's us."

Jensen looked up from a drawer he was digging around in, holding a few cotton swabs and antiseptic. A small smile flickered across his face. "Yeah. Sophia took it."

“I don’t remember that at all.”

“I have no idea when she took it, but she left it one day when you weren’t in the room.” Jensen’s eyes dropped to examine a piece of invisible dirt on the countertop. “I guess I never got around to showing it to you.”

Jensen motioned Jared over. “Let’s get your head cleaned up. David clocked you pretty well.”

“Yeah, about that. Your boyfriend’s pretty jealous.” Jared couldn’t keep the snippy tone out of his voice.

Jensen barked a laugh. “My boyfriend? David’s my cousin on my mother’s side. He works with me a few times a week. That’s it.”

“That’s it? So why did he feel the need to knock my head in?”

“He’s just protective. Luckily, you have a licensed physical therapist to take care of you now.”

“Jensen….” Jared sat down on a nearby stool and accepted a swab of antiseptic across his brow and cheek, wincing as it stung. “I don’t think he was just being protective. There’s something else going on. Something wrong.”

“I don’t understand.” Jensen’s voice was light, but Jared knew it was a deflection tactic. Jensen knew something was wrong and was hiding it.

“No, I don’t imagine you do,” Jared agreed, playing along. He didn’t want to put Jensen on the defensive. “But, Jensen, don’t you ever wonder who you are? Why things have happened to you? Why David’s protecting you, or whatever is going on?”

Jensen’s expression remained blank, but Jared caught flashes of fear, uncertainty, and something akin to shame.

It puzzled him only a moment why Jensen would feel these things when it clicked in to place, and Jared felt like a piece of the puzzle had finally come together. “He doesn’t want you to use your Craft,” he said. “David’s here to keep you hidden.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jensen shook his head.

"Liar." The words popped out before Jared could shove them back down, and the look on Jensen's face was almost worth the trouble Jared knew he was brewing. "I can tell when you lie, Jensen.”

“No you can’t.” Jensen’s eyes narrowed and he took the bandaging supplies back to the drawer and tossed them in, shutting it with a loud bang. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“No, I don’t think it is.” Jared hopped off the bar stool and stalked toward Jensen, using every inch of his six-foot-five height. “You don’t get to tell me to go when the last time something slightly bad happened between us you fucking quit school and hid. That’s not fair. And it’s not right. What the hell happened, Jensen? What’s with this attitude?”

He backed Jensen up against the counter, bodies nearly touching. Jensen’s tight-fitting gray tee-shirt practically made his eyes glow. He made an attempt to slide away from Jared, but Jared slammed his hands down on the counter, trapping Jensen.

“Listen,” he said, “you can’t avoid this. I’m here now and I’m not letting you get away this time. You dream. You project your dreams. What happened and why does it keep happening? I can tell you’re nervous, but goddammit, Jensen, you’re ok. Whatever David’s doing, whatever he’s telling you, he’s wrong.”

“You can’t guarantee that.” Jensen’s voice was low, and his eyes wouldn’t go higher than Jared’s chest. Jared didn’t care. Jensen wasn’t even arguing against Jared’s assertions, and it meant he was on the right track.

“I can guarantee it. Jensen….” It was now or never, he told himself. “I’m Empathic. I sense emotions and I can send my emotions to others. Five years ago that’s what I did, and something happened to you. What did I do? Why do you keep hiding it? Why do you think it’s wrong?”

“You’re crazy.” Jensen didn’t sound convinced. His words were more rehearsed than anything else.

“No, I’m right. And you know it too. You have a power, Jensen. You can project things, amplify them. Like five years ago. Like now, when you chase away any neighbors that are sensitive to it. You ran away when we triggered it, but it’s time to stop running.” Jared couldn’t stop himself, and reached up to put his hand along Jensen’s jaw. “Why do you keep running?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want me, that I was broken.” A tear rolled from Jensen’s eye. “Do you know how long I’ve struggled to be normal? To hide this freak show I carry around?”

“Jensen! You’re not a freak. Don’t you get it? Didn’t you feel it?”

Jensen’s eyes remained blank, and that was when Jared realized that Jensen wasn’t the only one who needed to get it. Jared was just as guilty. He was the one who had assumed that Jensen’s dreams were an expression of inner pain rather than asking him straight up about them. He was the one who hadn’t tracked Jensen down to make sure that things were ok. He was the one who had felt the love in the room, but hadn’t understood that with Jensen so completely blocked off to Craft, he couldn’t discern the love Jared had reflected back at him. For all his worrying about ethics and force and rape, Jared hadn’t ever seen it from this angle before.

Jared felt his eyes widen as it all hit him. “Jensen,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Even then Jared could tell that Jensen didn’t know why Jared was apologizing. He had to start – somewhere.

He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his emotions rattling nearly tangibly around in his chest and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. He felt David in the other room, listening, waiting to come in and tell Jensen that he needed to make Jared leave, that Jared was poisoning him.

“Can we go somewhere private?” he asked, and although Jensen’s eyes were wary, he gave a brief nod.

“David,” he called out. “Head home.”

David appeared in the doorway in record time, concern and frustration clear. “Jensen, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

The heat of anger bubbled to the surface inside Jared. “No,” he cut in, surprising Jensen and David, “it’s the best idea. David,” he spat, sending waves of intense dislike in David’s direction, “you really need to go.”

David literally staggered backwards, hand over his heart. Jared knew he wasn’t physically hurt, but dammit, David needed to know that Jared wasn’t some kind of pushover. Empaths were highly regarded as in-touch with their feelings, seen as calm, rational human beings. But that wasn’t everything. Jared was one of the most powerful Empaths in North America, and there was more to him than touchy-feely hugging Kumbayah sessions. He was no Deanna Troi, tears springing to his eyes every time somebody felt a measure of pain.

“Jensen, don’t do this!” David pled, while Jensen was staring at Jared, eyes wide. Suddenly, David’s tone changed. “I’ll call your parents, I promise.”

Jared barked out a laugh. “Seriously? You can’t control him for the first time ever and you’re going to go running to his mom and dad? He’s twenty-eight, David. He can make his own choices.” Jared rose to his feet, using his height to make the emphatic point that every male on the planet understood. Mess with me and I’ll fuck you up.

David nearly growled. “He’s dangerous. Don’t you get that, Jared? He could hurt everyone. He needs to keep his wickedness inside.”

Idiots. Jared was dealing with idiots. “So? I could grab a knife and kill my roommate in his sleep, but it doesn’t mean I will. Jensen’s got an amazing talent and you’re trying to subdue him. Don’t you see how much you and his family have already messed things up? David, Jensen’s powerful. It doesn't matter if you all see Craft as this evil power from Satan, or whatever it is that has you all sticking your thumbs up your butts, it’s an amazing part of who he is.”

He turned to face Jensen. “It is!”

“No.” David’s voice sounded different, and Jared turned just in time to see David’s hand rise. “You don’t get to do this, to lead him astray.”

“David, what are you doing?” Jared sidestepped, putting himself between David and Jensen.

“Sometimes it takes evil to turn evil away, and if that’s what I have to do, I will.” David’s hand clenched into a fist, and then his fingers splayed out, sending an invisible force into Jared that knocked him backwards. He and Jensen tumbled to the ground in a heap.

“You’re telekinetic!” Jared clambered to his feet, tugging Jensen behind the center island, away from David’s vision. He knew telekinetics, how they worked, how their power needed sight, and that meant that he knew how to take them down.

He grabbed Jensen’s hand and hissed, “Don’t move.” Then he squeezed his eyes shut, and a deep breath later, he formed an image inside his mind. David’s body at the kitchen entrance, tall, bulky, and vividly emotional. Anger, rage, fear, shame – the same mix that Jensen kept inside himself, but a mix David believed so much more strongly. That was the key.

Jared sent out a wave of his own power, hearing something clatter to the floor beside his body. David was mentally flinging items over the countertop. He focused, trying not to let something so physical distract him from the true fight. He knew David. He knew his weakness. Fear. And he could work with that.

Inside himself he imagined what he’d been like the morning after Jensen had left, afraid and sad that he’d fucked up so badly, but also terrified that if he went to look for Jensen, he’d only destroy him further. The emotions he’d questioned for five years and the private fear that he’d only hurt someone that he wanted to love. It was all for David.

Jared pushed the fear forward and into David, and only seconds later felt David’s whole emotional state of being waver. David gasped out loud, and Jared felt him tumble to his knees.

Before he could rise, Jensen’s hand clutched his arm, tight to the point of painful.

“What was that?” he hissed.

Jared’s eyes blinked open and he turned his head, still trying to come back to himself. “Me,” he responded, and let a wave of compassion wash over Jensen.

Jensen sat back on his heels, a stunned expression crossing his face.

Leaving Jensen for just a minute, Jared hurried over to David, who was lying on his side, tears streaming down his face.

“Leave,” he said, “or I call hell down on you in the form of people much stronger than you’ll ever be.” He yanked David to his feet, and the man left without a word, stumbling toward the front door, his eyes wide with fear. Jared knew that David had never met someone willing to use their Craft like that before.

He collected his breath a minute before going back to Jensen and dropping to his knees. “Jen,” he said, “it’s ok. David’s gone. You’re free. You’re going to be ok.”

“How can I be ok? Why do you even care?” Jensen’s voice was soft, and Jared could see wet streaks on his cheeks.

“Why do I care? Jensen, I never stopped caring. I was young and stupid and didn’t know any better, and I’m an asshole.”

Jensen looked up at last, and his eyes were wet with tears. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. You felt it. That…power. The way it broke…me.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?” Jared shook his head. “Jen, you’re all I’ve thought about since that night. What would make you think that?”

“Because I’m not right, Jared. This power I have…it’s wrong. And you were there. You felt it. And suddenly I couldn’t hide it anymore and I had to leave. Jared, I’m broken.”

Jared was pretty sure his mouth was hanging wide open, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to close it. Jensen, broken?

“Did your family tell you that?” he whispered. His need for Jensen to feel the warmth and rightness of how Jared thought of him spread through Jared’s body like a low flame. He grasped Jensen’s arms. “You are not broken, Jensen. Because if you are, I am, and for two people who are apparently not right, we’re doing damn good. Look at us. Look where you live, who you work for. I’m a licensed psychologist. I help people and so do you. What’s so broken about that?”

“Because it’s not natural,” Jensen hissed, and tried again to yank from Jared’s grasp. Jared didn’t let him go anywhere. Instead, he sent a wave of emotion to Jensen. One of love and concern and happiness at seeing him again.

Jensen’s eyes widened and his emotional awareness abruptly filled Jared’s mind, like Jensen had opened a door to himself. All sorts of emotions flooded into Jared, almost too many to name.

Without warning, the emotions got stronger, more powerful. Jared’s hands began trembling, and he had to let Jensen go. They were so strong that they were painful.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clutching his head. “Jensen!”

“I’m showing you,” Jensen said, a look of sadness in his eyes. “You have to see why I’m not right.”

Strong frustration and pain. Loneliness. Fear. Disappointment. Jared crumpled to his knees and began to lock down his mind where he could. Jensen was using his own power against him, amplifying Jared’s emotions to extreme levels.

His head knocked against Jensen’s knee and he knelt there, trying to get his mind back under his own control.

“Tell me you feel it, Jared. Feel what my mother, my father, my cousin said I am. A freak! ‘You’ve got to hide it, Jensen, or you’ll never be accepted!’ That’s what they told me. What do you think, Jared? Am I a freak?”

Jared groaned, still clutching his head. He sucked in a deep breath, and with all his might, sent a burst of love and acceptance to Jensen. It was one of the strongest emotions he’d ever pushed at another person, and when the painful onslaught abruptly quit, he knew he’d done something to get through.

“If you’re a freak,” he growled, “then you had better consider me one too, because whatever you just did to me? I can do it back.” He pushed another wave of concern Jensen’s way and grabbed the edge of the counter, pulling himself upright.

“Your family are the people who should be ashamed of themselves, to try and tell you that just because you couldn’t hide who you were like they said you should, you were somehow wrong.”

Jensen’s mouth set in a firm line and he stared at Jared like he didn’t quite believe what he heard.

“Don’t you realize how amazing you are? The things you’ve made me feel? You are an amazing man, Jensen, and you’ve given me so much. Don’t you know that?” Jared’s memories of Jensen flashed through his head, and as they did, he let Jensen feel each accompanying emotion.

Jared’s excitement at having a roommate who wanted to help people. Jared laughing at Field Day, feeling free and fun. Jared seeing Jensen kissing the guy on his walk and the flash of desire he’d felt. Being proud of Jensen’s studying and wanting to achieve good things the same way.

He let Jensen feel it all, and with a small noise, Jensen’s arms slid around Jared. He buried his head against Jared’s chest. “I’m sorry, I was stupid for leaving. I – just – I don’t feel like I’m ok.”

“I know.” Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen’s huddled body and laid a small kiss to the top of his head. “But what you’re doing now is better than letting your family tell you that you’re evil. Do you really think that you are?”

“I don’t know what I am.”

“I know what you are.” Jared tilted Jensen’s head up so they were eye to eye. “You’re smart and practical. You are sexy. You’re fun. You’re curing people every day at whatever therapy job you have.”

“Physical therapist for the Denver Broncos.”

“Right, curing people as a rich-ass therapist for a sports team. But whatever. If I’d known you were going through all of this, well, maybe I still would have been a little bitch and not done anything to help, but I don’t think so. Shutting yourself off isn’t the answer.”

“Jared, it was the only way they’d let me leave. I had to prove that I wasn’t using those powers.”

Jared snorted. “I don’t think that worked too well. It came out in your dreams. In fucked up ways. I mean, what’s with the clock?”

Jensen blinked at him. “The clock?”

“In the entryway. It was in every dream you ever projected.”

Jensen’s eyes widened, and he sat back on the tile, mouth slightly agape. “That clock was supposed to be like a mental box where I kept my abilities. My dad said that as long as it was around, I would be reminded that I could never share what I was, that it would always tick and remind me that I had to be vigilant.”

“That’s nuts. A clock? It’s stopped anyway.”

Jensen shrugged. “It worked for a long time. But then…what happened in college. I could never seal it away the same after that, and after my parents found out. That’s when David came to work with me.”

“How long has he been here ‘working’ with you?”

“A couple of years now. He means well, Jared, he really does. I’m not just saying that. He’s not abusing me or whatever you’re thinking.”

“Yes, he is.” Jared grabbed Jensen’s hands and held them tight. “Anyone who tells you that you’re not ok with the ability you’ve been given is abusing you. I know it’s not intentional abuse. David doesn’t know better because that’s what he’s been taught. But I’m not going to let you keep thinking that. You are amazing, Jensen. You always have been.”

He led Jensen out of the destroyed kitchen and into the living room. They sat down together on a plush couch where Jared angled himself to face Jensen. “Jen. I can’t even tell you what you have at your fingertips. You can project, amplify—“

“Whoa, whoa.” Jensen put a finger up against Jared’s lips. "Start from the beginning. Please. I don’t even know where to sort this all out in my head.”

“Right.” Jared breathed in deep, collected his thoughts, and began to talk. And talk.

_____

The sun had just begun to creep over the edge of the Earth when the conversation dwindled. Both men were still sitting on the couch, each thinking thoughts of how the last five years could have gone so differently. Jared wasn’t sure where they’d go from here, if he should leave, give Jensen some time. It had been an emotional rollercoaster of a day, but he had felt more and more that Jensen was coming to terms with who he was and what he could be.

Everything that had felt so raw just hours before had finally subsided into quiet peacefulness, Jared simply talked about Craft and how it was to be able to use his abilities, how other people lived with their talents. He’d been able to feel Jensen becoming more and more curious, accepting that this world was now a possibility.

A cricket chirped outside. “Show me,” Jensen said, breaking the stillness. His voice was rough with talk, and Jared knew his sounded much the same.

“Are you sure? It’s late. Or early. I don’t know anymore.”

“Jared, I’m completely sure.”

Happiness swelled through Jared’s body and he felt his smile threatening to overtake his face. “Ok.” He settled himself back against the side of Jensen’s couch and closed his eyes, ready to start teaching Jensen about his Craft.

“I know you’ve been trying to suppress it, but touching your Craft is really easy—" The words stuttered to a stop as he felt Jensen’s hand touch his forearm and his eyes sprang open.

“No, not like that.” Jensen reached out and clasped Jared’s chin lightly, raising his head to meet Jensen’s gaze. Jared’s breath hitched as he saw Jensen’s lust-darkened pupils and the serious intent behind his expression. “I want you to show me what you do. Make me feel it.” Jensen surged forward, straddling Jared’s lap on the couch, stroking his hands across Jared’s chest.

“Are you sure?” Jared found himself impossibly hard, wanting this. To help Jensen touch what had been hidden from him so long, and to make it something warm and happy and full of love. In a way, he’d be putting his own demons to rest as well, knowing he hadn’t damaged Jensen beyond repair.

“Stop asking me that. I want it more than anything.” Jensen’s voice was husky with want, and Jared became aware that he could feel desire and curiosity and a complete certainty that let him know that this was right, at last.

And there the perfect moment was, Jensen in his lap, plush lips capturing his own in a tender kiss. Jensen lapped at his mouth with an eager tongue, exploring Jared’s mouth with an intensity that hadn’t been present five years ago, but mirrored exactly how Jared felt now.

He slowly rolled his hips up, grinding against Jensen’s lithe body. Even through their double layers of denim, Jared could feel Jensen’s excitement, his need. It was heady knowledge, almost like a responsibility that had been laid down at the Altar of Jared to make this right this time, to let Jensen know how reverently he had waited for this moment.

“You’re not going to think worse of me after this, will you?” Jensen whispered as he planted slow kisses up the side of Jared’s neck.

“I don’t mind if you’re slutty with me. My opinion won’t change. Besides, I’ve seen your dick already.” Jared panted, head lolling back against the sofa. “I think we’re destined to forever have sex on furniture too tiny for us, though.”

“True,” Jensen said. “Do you want to move upstairs?”

“No,” Jared growled. “I want fuck you right now.” He tugged at Jensen’s shirt.

“Yes, please,” Jensen whispered, so Jared did, despite the awkward angle on the cramped couch.

_____

Jared tossed another piece of wood into the fire, watching the flames flare as the new fuel began to break down into ash. He held onto Jensen’s clenched fingers with his other hand. They’d been sitting here on this log watching the fire burn for the last hour or so, nothing passing between them except the strength of Jensen’s emotions.

“That was the last piece.” Jared finally spoke. “It’s gone.” He looked over at Jensen, at the beautiful profile belonging to the man he loved. Jensen still gazed at the flames, the light illuminating his freckles, his long lashes, his delicate features. Jared’s breath almost caught in his throat and he marveled again at how lucky he was to be here.

“Thank you,” Jensen whispered. He blinked and turned his gaze to Jared. Outwardly, Jensen’s expression stayed masked, calm. Even knowing him as well as Jared did, if he hadn’t been able to feel what was going on underneath the surface, he might have been fooled into thinking that Jensen was completely at peace.

This moment had been a long time coming, and Jared ached at the trepidation and sadness coursing through Jensen, but he also admired the fact that Jensen had approached Jared without any prodding, telling him that it was time for the clock to be destroyed.

It had been a really hard few months. David came back to cause trouble a few times, and it wasn’t until Chad and Jeff had met him at the front door, promising legal action, that he had gone back to Los Angeles, tail tucked between his legs. Jensen went back and forth feeling like he had failed his family, but at last was coming to realize that he could only move forward, not hide forever.

Now, hearing the crickets chirp in the clearing around them, Jared felt his heart relax.
Here they sat, destroying the place Jensen had hidden his power and his fears, but also one of the triggers that had brought them together at last. Jared couldn’t help but think of the Phoenix, the bird who was reborn out of its own ashes. It made a good stepping stone for the next phase of their lives together, to let the past be the past, and the future start anew.

He couldn’t help but peek over at Jensen again. “I love you.” Jared kissed Jensen’s temple and squeezed his hand. “You ok?”

“I am,” Jensen said, and even through his anxiety and sadness about leaving this chapter of his life behind, Jared could feel with every bone in his body that Jensen truly was going to be fine. He felt his love swell and expand until it was the only thing the two of them knew as they watched the fire burn itself out, leaving behind the stars twinkling in the crisp Colorado night.

Art Post | Notes & Soundtrack | Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter Five (Part 1)

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:49:48 GMT

Part 2 – Chapter Five

-Five Years Later-

"I am completely exhausted." Jared fell backwards onto his brown leather couch and stared up at the ceiling. Sadie and Harley circled around his legs, clamoring for attention, but the most he could do was hold his hands out and run them over the dogs' backs. Neither seemed to mind too much.

"Dude, you couldn't have done more than sit in your chair all day and take patient notes. You're not, like, running or anything." Chad poked his head around the partition that divided their kitchen from the living room. Jared suspected that Chad was washing dishes, but didn't have the energy to ask. He kind of assumed the world would implode if he caught Chad doing actual housework.

"It's not that. It's reading them. Trying to figure out what the hell is going on inside their heads and pointing them in the right direction. I always thought that being a psychiatrist would be easy with my Craft, but it's not. In the slightest. People are so fucked up, Chad, I can't even tell you. And it's those creepy sensations I've been getting lately. It's keeping me up at night. Sometimes being a full Empath sucks."

"Jared, a few things. First, yes, I know people are fucked up. Why do you think Sophia's broken up with me three times?"

"Common sense?"

"Shut up. Anyway, you know I'm kidding. I know people are messed up. I'm pretty damn impressed that you're even trying to get out there and help them one-on-one. You can do so much more." Chad left unsaid what Jared felt all the time anyway. He could make people feel things. He could influence them toward a better life. But after what happened five years ago, it was an ability he took very, very seriously, and the fact that Chad avoided even mentioning it told Jared how sensitive the subject still was.

"Next, it's your first week. Give your newbie ass a break and chill out." Chad came back into the living room and handed Jared a beer.

"It's not like I'm completely new to it, though. I did so much work during my practicum."

"But this? It's yours. Your name is on that door, Jared, and you're holding all the responsibility. But it's your first week. It'll get easier. Maybe not the Craft part, but the experience part. You still haven't even made the office home."

"I put up pictures! It's got a nice atmosphere! I have a plant."

Chad rolled his eyes and sat down on the sofa chair nearby. "A plant your mom gave you, but that's not the point. And you're being a dick. You aren't comfortable there yet, but you will be. So chill."

Jared narrowed his eyes and mock glared at Chad. "I'm still exhausted."

Chad shrugged and changed the subject. "So, you say you've been getting 'creepy sensations.' What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. Things just don't feel right. I mean, people I meet still give me all the normal reactions as I'm used to. But I just keep picking up this tension in the air."

"Just keep sleeping on it. It'll resolve itself eventually. And if it doesn’t, you can call Sam Ferris. I think she sees you as her ‘Mini Me.’"

"When did you get so wise? It's not fair."

Chad knocked his foot into Jared's. "I just hang out with you, oh people reader." He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and flicked on the television.

The two watched a football game in companionable silence for a while, but Jared found himself drifting in and out, glad to finally just have the chance to sit. They'd only been in this house a few weeks, a small, yet roomy place in the heart of Denver. Jared had fallen in love with Colorado, especially the hiking opportunities it offered him and the dogs, who he'd adopted a year ago on a total whim. He'd also picked up a psychiatry job in the nearby ritzier Cherry Creek neighborhood.

At first, Jared had thought he'd be meeting with bored housewives all day, or possibly frustrated executives. He had expected a dose of normalcy, teenage drama, and mid-life crises. Instead, he'd already picked up on two cases of abuse, some kind of post traumatic stress disorder, and an abnormal fear of coffee mugs. And that was three days in.

Chad was working odd jobs at the moment, trying to find a good place to use his own degree, which had nothing to do with his telepathy Craft. He had ended up majoring in Applied Sciences, and had sent his resume to several schools in the area to see if they were interested in a teacher. Several positive replies had come back, but for the moment, Chad was stuck in waiting hell.

Jared finally roused himself an hour later to make some dinner, relieving Chad of his duties. Chad was a much better cook, but Jared felt he needed the time to do something with his hands, rather than letting his mind stretch around other people's problems. He had more of it tomorrow, and although he was making a good salary, he really hoped that Chad was right and things would get marginally less stressful.

As he chopped up vegetables, he couldn't help but play his usual game with himself. Here he was, five years after Jensen had run, quit school, and literally dropped off the face of the map. Jensen had left him, and Jared didn't want to go after someone that didn't want him. Still, it didn't keep him from feeling guilty, from feeling like he should have gone to make sure he hadn't done Jensen any irreparable harm. But he hadn't looked, and now Jared had to make do with wondering what Jensen was doing now. If he was ok. If Jared forcing his Craft barrier wide open had somehow harmed him. If Jared had crossed the rape line.

He couldn't think of it for long. He just had to be content thinking that somewhere else, maybe Jensen was also chopping vegetables, wondering what his life would have been with Jared.

This game? It kind of sucked.

_____

Jared's three clients the next day were about as different as any three people could be. Mrs. White, he had been informed, was a long-time client who asked to see the "new young hot thing,” and apparently was well known for switching psychiatrists whenever a younger man started working at the office. Her case file was startlingly slim for someone who had been going to sessions for as long as she had, and the secretary, Alona, informed him that she was there just to get out of the house and alleviate some of her boredom. He figured they'd spend a lot of time talking about gossip at the health club, but if she wanted to pay for it, it was up to her.

His second client was a wiry little shopkeeper who had been labeled as schizophrenic. Meeting her gave Jared no other hints as to how to help her better, so he mentally filed her under "by the book" and considered that his Thursdays might be pretty slow in terms of brain-breaking frustration. It wasn't that he wanted to marginalize what the first two patients had or why they were being treated, but he was just glad that his Craft didn't tug at him with them. It was just being given a chance to breathe.

His last client was late in the day. He was a man who had clearly just come from work, tie loosened around his neck, waves of tiredness seeping off his body. It was his first time in the office, so Jared didn't know what to expect. Alona had given him the few notes the client, Mr. Thyne, had provided. The man suffered from disturbing, yet vivid dreams. After having such a slow day beforehand, Jared found himself almost anticipating his end-of-day meeting.

Upon meeting Mr. Thyne, Jared felt like he’d met the man somewhere before. Thyne was giving off fairly regular emotions - tiredness, nervousness, anticipation – so Jared couldn’t pin down when and if they’d ever met. The man was fairly ordinary, otherwise. Worked nearby as an investment banker, lived in an older house that had been divided into three smaller units, was allergic to cats. But he was also having dreams that literally had him tossing and turning all night long, and that's why he'd come to see Jared.

"So what mainly happens in your dreams?" Jared scribbled away on his yellow notepad.

"I'm running from something. Hiding. It's like dreaming a horror movie every night, but I don't know who the villain is." Thyne rubbed at his eyes.

"And when did they start?"

"Three weeks ago. I just moved, so I thought it was the stress coming out at night, but it hasn't stopped. I've tried sleeping pills, booze, warm milk, a massage, and I'm at wit's end." He flopped back against his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"So walk me through a dream. Pick the one that sticks with you the most."

Thyne continued staring at the ceiling, but Jared was getting strong emotions as if he was composing himself, getting ready to walk through this again. It disturbed Jared that the dreams were so vivid that the guy had to prep to even think about them.

"I've just come down off a mountain made of boulder when I'm suddenly in a field," he started, fell silent. Jared waited for him to continue. As much as Jared liked to talk, this wasn't his session. "It's not just a field. It's bigger than that. But it's like it's owned by someone, and the grass goes as far as I can see. That doesn't matter, because I'm next to the only thing in the field. It's a giant clock."

Jared felt his stomach drop out from underneath him. "What kind of clock?"

"Like a grandfather clock. Cherry wood or something. It's really dark, but the hands and everything else shine really bright, like they've been polished. And I'm not kidding you. This clock is huge, I mean, it's abnormally large for a clock of its type. Maybe four stories tall." Jared scribbled meaningless swirls on his notepad, trying to buy some time to let his brain catch up.

"So, what happens next?" It was a formality. He knew what happened next. The king would find him. They would fight. But Jared wouldn't win. The king, a man made of darkness, would hit him, and he would feel blood run from his nose, feel dizzy from the force of impact against his temple. And when he had almost lost, Jensen would abandon him.

His head snapped up, and he realized that Thyne was talking, but he hadn't heard a word of it. He didn't need to hear anymore. He let Thyne finish the rest, which was just as he predicted, and then led the man through a few breathing exercises that could help him sleep better, and he'd never been so happy to see someone go.

Chad wasn't home when Jared arrived, and he couldn't have been happier. Chad's unsettling ability to pick up thoughts and worries were a perfect, yet annoying compliment to Jared's Craft, but there were times that he couldn't talk about what was going on with him, and this was definitely one of them.

Jared wasn't stupid. He'd spent five years thinking about everything that had led up to Jensen's flight: his inept bumbling with his Craft, his desire to hide nothing from Jensen after the inept way he handled his failed friendship with Sandy, and he knew that the dreams he'd had all that semester were because of Jensen. They'd stopped the moment Jensen was gone. He'd always worried about why Jensen had dreams like that. And how he could find out.

It was time to make a call.

"Hey, kid." Jeffrey Dean Morgan's warm, calm voice went a long way to helping Jared know he'd made the right decision.

"Jeff, I think I found Jensen."

Jeff was silent a beat, but Jared had to give him credit, he jumped right back into the discussion. "I thought you'd decided not to look for him, Jared. I thought you were going to let him be."

"I know, Jeff." Jared leaned his forehead against the entryway wall. "But it's not just because I want to find him. A client came to see me today. He's been having dreams, really bad ones. Worse than I had in college. I think Jensen lives in his building."

"How do you know that Jensen's the one having these dreams? Or that it's any worse. Maybe this client of yours is just very sensitive."

"Jeff, I appreciate you playing Devil's advocate here, but let's not pussyfoot around this. I'm the most sensitive Empath in pretty much all of North America. My client? If he's dreaming, yeah, he's apparently got some sensitivity to Craft, but he's not even a blip on the radar. I think Jensen needs help. I mean, who dreams that shit every night for their entire life?"

"A Projectionist does." Jeff's voice was quiet, and Jared knew why.

They'd spent many an hour discussing why Jensen had been able to hide his sensitivity to Craft, and the only reason Jeff had been able to come up with was that Jensen had a very strong Craft: Projection. He could project dreams or images, but apparently in Jensen's case, he could also become completely blank. Jared thought that until he blew Jensen's defenses away, Jensen’s hiding had all been instinctual. Jeff hadn't disagreed. Jensen was clearly protecting himself, and there was something inside Jared that said time was running out for Jensen, and fast.

"Jeff, he needs help. If he's running blind on something, then it's time I made up for being such an ass."

"Jared, you were a kid."

"Yeah? I'm not a kid now. I'm twenty-four, Jeff. I've got two degrees, good friends, and the chance to help the one person in this world that I fucked over."

"What if he doesn't want your help?"

Jared's eyes fluttered shut as he imagined the possibility. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

They said their goodbyes, and Jared sat down to start forming a plan of attack. He couldn't go tonight - it was already getting a bit late, and conversations like the one he hoped to have were better left to happen with plenty of daylight hours to spare. The wait until the weekend seemed interminable, but Jared knew that would be the best time.

By the time Chad got home, Jared had written out several plans, questions, and ways to approach Jensen. He heard the front door slam, Chad toss his keys on the table near the door, stop, and say, "Son of a bitch."

_____

"In some states, this is considered stalking." Chad took a sip of his soda and rooted around in the bag of chips that sat between them in the SUV's center console.

Jared's drink remained untouched. They sat parked across the street from Jensen's house. A quick call to a local friend who worked at the city confirmed Jensen’s residence on the main floor of the separated house. Jared decided that Friday afternoon was the perfect time to take a quick look-see at the place Jensen had apparently been living in for several years.

A "For Rent" sign stood outside the front door. Jared wasn't surprised to see that Jensen’s landlord likely had a revolving door of people who rented the other spaces. If Jensen was projecting as badly as Jared suspected, any Craft-sensitive person would have trouble living near him. Maybe even non-Craft-sensitive people depending on how strong Jensen's talent was.

Despite the large “For Rent” sign, the house looked inviting. Three-stories tall, with eaves that arched up into upside down V's that Jared would have expected to see on a gingerbread house. Jared and Chad had even looked at a few of the places nearby when they were looking for somewhere to live. It kind of freaked Jared out at how close he and Jensen had been all this time. Jared was pretty sure the house had a few entrances. There were likely two around back that led downstairs for the basement resident, then steep stairs up to the attic residence. Jensen seemed to have the main and second floors to the place, and Jared suddenly wondered what Jensen did for a living. Houses like this weren't cheap.

"C'mon, dude, this is freaking me out."

"Do you sense him at all?" Jared extended his senses as far as possible. He didn't know if the place had a garage or if everyone parked on the street.

"I'm getting radio silence from the house. Nobody seems to be home, if you're operating on the assumption that he's no longer able to shield himself."

"I am." It was getting physically hard for Jared not go get out of the car and go to the house right now. "Chad, remember that creepy feeling I was having earlier this week? It's really, really strong right now. I'm getting goose bumps."

He didn’t know how to describe it to Chad, but it was more than just a “creepy feeling.” A sense of hushed silence played over his mind, reminding Jared of times he’d hidden under his covers from the bed monster as a child. He’d known that only his blanket separated him from the outside world, but sometimes the air inside his hidey-hole would get too warm, too stifling, and he’d have to burst free to get a breath of fresh air. Right now his entire head felt like it was buried under a pile of blankets. He needed to take a breath.

Chad talked on, oblivious to Jared’s sense of foreboding. "So this feeling has something to do with Jensen? That's bizarre, dude. If you haven't felt him once in the last five years, and suddenly you do, I don't know what to think."

"Maybe it's always been there, but not this strong?"

"That's pretty coincidental, don't you think?" Chad had another handful of chips. "Besides, what can you do right now?"

"Nothing. Stress. Worry." Jared banged his head against the top of the steering wheel.

"Then we have nothing to do here, Jared. You're coming back over tomorrow, and hopefully he'll be home."

"What if he's not?"

"Then you'll ring the bell on Sunday, too. Jesus, Jared, calm down." Chad grabbed his shoulder and made Jared look at him. "You being a nervous wreck isn't going to help Jensen, especially if he's sensitive to your abilities now. Your Crafts are so close in nature that you guys could amplify each other to death or something."

Jared only knew how true that was. The orgasm, when everything had fallen apart - he knew now that it hadn't been just him. Together, their Crafts had resonated, and kind of like one of those toys where the balls kept tapping back and forth (he tried to ignore that pun), hadn't stopped until one side broke.

He started the car and headed home. Chad was right. If he projected worry and nerves all over the place, he could mess up everything with Jensen. It took just a few miles for them to arrive at home. Unexpectedly, Jeff's car stood out front, their former professor sitting in one of the lawn chairs set up under the house's awning. He saluted them as they climbed out of the SUV.

"Long time, no see," he said, blue eyes twinkling.

"You're only in Boulder, not that far. But why are you here?" Jared unlocked the front door and they all trooped inside.

"Because if tomorrow rolls around and you need someone to intervene on a more serious level, I'm going to be around. Just seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, I've never met a Projectionist before, and I'm curious." Jeff rounded the corner and grabbed three beers out of the fridge, then passed them around. They all stood in the kitchen, each lost in his own thoughts, when Harley and Sadie came in, weaving around their legs and showing their love.

"Jeff, what if I really damaged him? What if I made everything worse?" The words came tumbling out of Jared's mouth before he could stop them.

"Hey." Jeff put his arm around Jared's shoulders and steered him into the living room, where they sat down on the couch. Chad was conspicuously absent. "You have to stop looking at this like you meant to hurt him, Jared. I know you didn't, you know you didn't, and Jensen knows you didn't. But what happened is in the past. You can't go back, and even if you did, you wouldn't know what you do now. You had no idea that he was hiding anything. You still don't know if he's hiding anything, or if the guy just has wacky dreams, though I doubt it.”

"Something is going on. I've had this odd feeling all week long, and when we drove by Jensen's house today it was like I was swimming in it."

"Describe 'odd.'"

"Odd. Spending all week being creeped out. Feeling at all times like there's something behind me. Generally feeling like something is wrong. I don't know, Jeff. It all has to do with emotions, and I don't know how to describe this. It just won't go away. And yes, that is my professional description. It'd be like if you ran into someone with a Craft you'd never seen before. That would give you pause, right?"

"I can see where you're coming from. Jared, the only advice I can give you is to just go. Maybe you are picking these sensations up because something's gotten worse in the last week. Or because you spend all day trying to get emotions from your clients at work. Did you think of that? You're essentially stretching your abilities every day, and as great as that is, it also leaves you open to new things that you may not be expecting."

Jeff had a point. Jared offered him a spot in their spare bedroom, then went to get his shower done before they started getting dinner ready.

As he stood under the deluge of water, Jared's eyes fluttered closed and he slowly began to draw his senses back into himself. Normally he operated with his Craft facing outward all the time, letting sensations rush by him. It was like walking past a clothing rack in a store, feeling each garment as he went by. They all had different textures, different purposes, but in the end they were all clothes. People were like that too. Most emotions weren't too different from one another, once it got boiled down. Anger, fear, frustration, happiness, sadness, joy, excitement - Jared had gotten familiar with all of them.

Now, though, he closed himself off from them, simply giving his mind a chance to rest. It was something he hardly did, since the sensation was so odd. But it felt good today. The uneasiness he'd felt for the past week subsided, and the tension in his shoulders that Jared hadn't even been aware he was carrying eased away with the water.

Just for the simple feeling of release, he began to jerk himself off, letting his mind drift to Jensen, to other partners he'd had, but always back to Jensen. Nothing had ever been the same since then, no matter how badly Jared had wanted to find someone. Only when he was alone like this could Jared admit that it had always been Jensen. It was kind of sad considering that he'd been without Jensen for five years, yet the thought of Jensen's lips on his, their eyes meeting in love, that was the thing that brought him to release more times than not.

It was also only when he was alone, closed off from even Chad's telepathy, that he could admit to himself that he might be chasing a pipe dream, that the Jensen he hoped to see would never exist again.

With a sob he came, crying out his frustration and fear, and hoping that tomorrow would be the day he could put things right.

Go to Part Two, HERE! | Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter Four

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:47:19 GMT

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

At first things didn't seem so different. Their friendship was tighter - Jared was sure of that - but he found himself responding to Jensen in ways he hadn't expected. Shooting him private grins. Still spending an inordinate amount of time trying to read his emotions. Accepting invitations to hang out with Jensen's friends, despite feeling like a little kid around them. It was weird, but nice, and Jared thought he could get through the year if they continued with the routine. He could be friends with a Null, maybe throw a little curveball in Professor Morgan's statistics.

The weird thing about Jensen was that for a Null, Jared saw him hanging around a lot of people he knew either from Craft class or the once a week get-togethers Professor Morgan held as study sessions, but were really meant to keep the Craft users connected and getting to know one another. They didn't have a button or anything - "Hi, I'm a Craft user, ask me how!" - and it wasn't like Jared had suddenly developed Craft-dar, which was pretty much Professor Morgan's talent.

Running into Jensen's friend Chris at one of the evening meetups was a shock in itself. Jared hadn't made it for a few weeks due to other study commitments, so walking in and seeing someone he'd had a Mario Kart race with the night previous was somehow ironic. Chris' jaw had visibly dropped, and he had stalked up to Jared and said, "Ok, this is freaky shit. What do you do?"

Jared knew that asking someone what they did as Craft could be considered a bit rude, but he figured he'd let it slide in Chris' case. "Full Empathy. You?"

Chris' mouth quirked down. "Impressive. I've got some Bard in me. Good with music."

They'd spent the rest of the evening discussing the world of Craft, and Jared hadn't mentioned Jensen at all. He didn't know if Chris knew Jensen was Null, and "outing" him as such seemed awkward, even if Jensen himself didn't know.

Aside from Chris, several times Jensen came by the room with friends from class who were picking up books, and Jared knew them too. They all played the "nice to meet you" game very well. Jared had to catalogue these things away in his "weird stuff about Jensen" folder.

Things with Sandy had never quite returned to normal. They finished up their project for their Native American Lit class, but she grew distant. Jared could feel sadness in her emotions; he just couldn't fix them. It was frustrating that the strangest night of his life gave him a strengthened friendship and a weakened one. He just wished he knew what to say.

Of all the things in his life that had changed, his Craft had gotten even stronger. Sam Ferris had spent some time on the phone with him, working on techniques on how to shield himself from the emotions around him. Ever since discovering that what he'd thought had been "hunches" all his life were actually him reading someone, it was almost like he couldn't turn it off. Being able to dampen it had given Jared a renewed sense of freedom to be with people.

Midterms had come and gone, and they were rolling into the end of October. Football season was in full swing, and while Jared hadn’t made it to a game yet, everyone around him was beyond elated that CU’s football team had crushed the University of Oklahoma in last weekend’s game.
The dorm was hosting a Halloween party, challenging each student to find a masquerade costume. Students had been buzzing about it all week. Despite being a dorm-held event, it had the reputation as being incredibly fun.

Jared hadn't seen Jensen all day. He'd been busy prepping his costume - a stylized Clark Kent / Superman mix. He'd gone to the thrift store and found a semi-decent pair of black dress pants and a blue button-up shirt that fit him, and had ordered a Superman jersey online. It left him able to unbutton the front of his outfit to reveal the blue underneath, and he felt pretty damn proud of his achievement. He'd popped the lenses out of a pair of glasses and gelled his hair into the trademark Superman hair twist on his forehead.

He figured that he'd grown at least another inch since arriving, putting him solidly as the tallest guy in the dorm. Superman was definitely the way to go.

The party was in full swing when Jared arrived in the dorm's basement. There was a large room for social functions just down the hall from Chad. Two girls dressed as slutty Marie Antoinettes ran past him, giggling, as he thundered down the stairs to Chad's room.

"Yeah?" Chad called as Jared knocked, and he took the invitation to let himself into the room.

Chad was applying the final touches of fake blood. He wore a black suit that fit him surprisingly well, a long red cape he'd apparently bribed his mom to make, and had fake teeth lying on the dresser next to his hand.

"You're going as Dracula?" Jared tried to suppress a giggle.

"Dude, Drac got all the ladies. Besides, I wore this two years ago and since it still fits, I thought I'd get another use out of it." Chad's blonde hair stood spiked up all over his head instead of in the usual Dracula widow's peak look, but Jared figured that when you had hair as short as Chad's, it was just best to run with what you had.

"Who are you? Clark Kent? That's cool."

"Not just that!" Jared popped open the first few snaps on the dress shirt and let Chad give him the "Motherfucking awesome" he'd been waiting for, and they headed to the party.

Because it was a dorm-hosted party, there wouldn't be any booze. It wasn't quite like a high school dance, either, Jared noted, since most of the dorm staff were the Resident Advisors, and also enjoying the party and wearing costumes. He noticed a few people sipping out of conspicuous cups, and when one was passed his way, he didn't turn it down. Jared wasn't going to drink enough to dull his Craft; after learning his lesson at the frat party he never wanted to be caught unawares again, but a sip or two wouldn't hurt. He passed the cup on to Chad, and set off for the snack bar.

It was a typical Halloween array, decoration and food wise. Spider webs crept up the walls and hung down from the ceiling, and all the lights had been replaced with orange and purple globes. Fake trees edged the walls, branches bent out like hands begging for charity. The food was even better. Marshmallows with legs meant to look like spiders, jello shaped in the form of bats and ghosts - Jared loved it. He got some of the tangy orange punch and a few finger-weenies and barbeque sauce, and chatted up a couple of people he thought he recognized. Chad dropped by and produced a flask of his own, spiking Jared's punch just a tiny bit, then moved off to mingle.

"Hey."

Jared turned as someone tapped him on the back. He found Sandy dressed as Xena the Warrior Princess, and he couldn't help but break into a wide grin. "Hey yourself. Nice costume."

"Thanks. Sophia totally put me up to it, but you should see what she's wearing. You two would be a match made in Heaven."

"Yeah? Is it Wonder Woman or Supergirl?"

"Oh, totally slutty Wonder Woman. It's kind of awesome."

Jared had opted to leave his dress shirt partway open; it was easier than unsnapping it every time someone asked who he was.

"You having a good time?" This was the part he hated. Their conversation had grown so formal over the last few weeks.

"Yeah." She sighed and looked around the room. "I thought there'd be more people."

"It's only ten. Give it time. The dorm's running an anti-drinking campaign, so they've got all sorts of door prizes going on. I bet twice this number will be here by eleven."

They watched the room get fuller, but also happier. Jared reached out to feel Sandy's emotions, and was surprised to find contentment there. Maybe things would be ok.

"Hey," she suddenly said, "Jensen." She pointed at a group of men who had just entered, but Jared couldn't figure out which one was Jensen. They were all dressed as the Dread Pirate Roberts from The Princess Bride, and were just far enough away that specific facial features weren't obvious yet.

"How can you tell? They're all identical."

"Dumb butt. Jensen's bowlegged." She smirked a bit as Jared gaped at her, but when he looked back over, there was quite an obvious difference between Bowlegged Dread Pirate Roberts and All The Other Dread Pirates. Jared's heart did a little dance of happiness, and he waved Jensen over.

"Dude. That costume is fucking sweet!" Jensen punched Jared's arm, and Jared smelled the faint tinge of alcohol on Jensen's breath. He found it amusing to know that his completely legal roommate had pre-partied before coming to a dorm function.

"I am here to save the day." Jared waggled his eyebrows, and behind the mask, Jensen's overly green eyes shone brightly. "However, you look dreadful. Why are you and all your buddies dressed up identically?"

"Masquerade! Makes us harder to tell apart."

"I see." Jared guessed if you didn't know who Jensen was, he'd be one with the crowd, but now that Jensen was up close and Jared could see the plush lips, he wouldn't miss Jensen in this crowd, ever. It was only just a shame his freckles were covered by the top of the mask.

Sandy had drifted off in search of Sophia, leaving the two of them to hover near a wall and split Jensen's flask back and forth. Jared realized he was apparently failing a college life, since he didn't have a flask of his own. He felt pleasantly buzzed, and when one of his favorite songs came on, he couldn't help but break into dance.

Jensen's grin flashed brightly at him. Jared knew his roommate found him amusing, but he was completely in the moment. The DJ had started mixing songs that had a bit more beat, but also changing them up with slower, sappier things. There seemed to be enough couples in the crowd that every song had a fair number of people to dance. Jared had to admit, he was having a good time. The room was dark, emotions elated, and it was infectious. Jared bounced up and down to the song, and by the time it ended he was out of breath, and he staggered back over to where Jensen was standing, always a bit more reserved.

A slower song started up, and Jared leaned against the wall, arm-to-arm with Jensen, whose green eyes scoured the room.

"Looking for anything specific?" Jared tilted his head down, conscious of the few inches he rose above Jensen in height.

"Nah, just watching." Jensen's eyes met his and they shared a smile. The music wrapped all around them, the happiness.

Jared hardly noticed it at first, but Jensen seemed closer, and suddenly he realized they were going to kiss. He began to lean down to meet Jensen's lips, and suddenly two figures were in front of them, bouncing up and down, grabbing at Jensen and Jared's arms. They sprang apart, eyes anywhere but each other.

Jared tried to affix a smile to his face and listen to Sandy, who had been flirted with by the "cutest guy at the party." Sophia had grabbed Jensen for a piece of advice, and despite the happiness coming at him from all directions, Jared couldn't help but feel more than a little disappointed.

It struck him right then how much he enjoyed spending time with Jensen, how natural and fun their conversations were, and how much he wouldn't mind their relationship becoming more than friends. Oh.

Oh.

"Just figured it out then?" Chad appeared by his side, bouncing on his heels while eating a baby carrot.

"You knew?"

Chad rolled his eyes. "Telepath, hello."

_____

Jared lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Jensen had climbed into bed a while back and was now breathing softly, but Jared could still hear him if he chose to listen. So he did. It wasn't surprising for him to discover that he was in love with Jensen. He'd always been someone who freely gave his support and love, though this was the first time it had happened in a romantic sense. He and Jensen had so much in common - wanting to help people, a similar goofy nature, a wide variety of friends - but Jared felt they connected on a deeper level.

He knew he had to acknowledge that Jensen probably didn't feel the same. After all, Jensen was casually dating the guy Jared had seen him with - Tom, he thought Jensen had said. It wasn't serious, but it was still there. Jared wasn't the type who could bring himself to intrude on that.

But the kiss. The almost kiss. If they hadn't been interrupted by the girls, would it have happened? Jared was starting to doubt that it had been Jensen's intention. It was easier to think that he'd been mistaken, that it was just Jared's wishful thinking.

He turned over on his side and sighed. The post-alcohol haze lulled him near to sleep, so Jared let himself fall the rest of the way, away from his concerns about Jensen, and into the field with the clock.

He stood next to the clock again, listening to the loud reverberation of its gears as they solemnly, stubbornly continued to turn. It was too exposed out here, and Jared found himself ducking down even as he searched for the King who came to get him. The only place to take refuge would be inside the clock itself, where time was on his side and he could calculate his next move.

A crow cawed from somewhere in the field, spurring Jared on. He rounded the edge of the clock and spotted a seam in the otherwise flawless exterior. A small pull-ring served as the door mechanism, so Jared grabbed and tugged, surprised by how easily the small door moved. He crawled through and shut the door behind him, and he almost bumped his head on a low, dust-covered beam.

The clock’s interior reminded him of a barn. Bushels of hay lay strewn about the place as if it hadn't been attended to for a very long time. Despite being night outside, a beam of sunlight came through an open window on the far side of the clock, so Jared went over to explore, and found the window was above his head.

A staircase wound around the inside of the clock, so he jogged over to it, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the place where the window opened up into the sunlight. He thought he could also keep an eye out for the King, who was surely on his way, seeking Jared.

At last he reached the window that had appeared so close the ground. Jared had to shield his eyes from the sun coming through, but as he looked out onto the grassy plain, all he could see was the moonlight gently bathing the land in a soft glow. Maybe he was safe.

He turned to head back down the stairs, but standing just a few steps lower was a figure in a dark cloak, cowl raised over his head. The king. Jared stumbled upwards, trying to put some room between himself and his death. His steps echoed loudly throughout the clock as he thumped across the wooden staircase.

The king was standing just a few stairs below him when he turned around, as if Jared were somehow tugging the king with him. He hadn't heard footsteps at all, so this time he backed up, keeping an eye on the hooded figure. As he went backwards, the figure flickered like it was made of television reception, then cut out completely, reappearing just below where Jared stood.

Stunned, he could only react after the king's hands intertwined in the collar of Jared's shirt, holding him close. His leg lashed out, and he tried to land a blow to the king's knee. The king punched him, sending Jared reeling into the wooden banister, and he slumped to the ground. A second punch hit him in his shoulder blade, completely knocking out the movement in his right arm. He managed to twist to the side and avoid a stomp where his head had been, and when he looked up to see the King, he saw a pair of shining eyes inside the cowl, piercing him like lighthouse beacons.

The king came down to punch him once more, and the fist landed solidly on his jaw. Dazed, he could hardly defend himself as he was lifted into the air, slammed against the side of the clock, and hit again. And again.

It was the final blow to his dream-head that finally forced Jared awake. He was overly hot in the room's cool overnight temperature, his heart still hammered in his chest. The dream was strong in his mind; the way the King had pressed him against the wall, holding him so high his feet couldn't even touch the floor. Despite being so warm, he shivered at the dream memory, the way he could almost smell the King's breath, feel it puffing hotly against his cheek.

As was usual, he glanced over at Jensen's bed, expecting a still, sleeping form, but like Jared, Jensen was thrashing underneath his covers, clearly trapped by the heavier comforter over his body. It took Jared just a moment to make a decision, but he threw his own covers aside and stumbled off his bed and across the narrow room to Jensen.

"Wake up, Jensen," he urged, shaking the other man firmly. Jensen continued moving under the covers, still caught in the throes of whatever dream or nightmare held him fast. Jared leaned over him, hoping that a change in atmosphere around Jensen's face would tell his brain to shift gears, and he shook the man again, raising his voice when he barked, "Jensen!"

Jensen's mouth moved, he noticed, something he hadn't seen from further away inside the dark room. Jared leaned down to see if he could hear what Jensen was saying, and it was just one word repeated over and over again: "No no no no no no."

With renewed vigor, he shook Jensen one more time, also putting his palm to Jensen's cheek and tapping it repeatedly in a gentle slap. It was almost hard to do with the images of his own dream still rattling around in his head, but he continued to try and be enough of a bother so he could get through to Jensen.

Switching tactics, he reached over and flicked on the light near Jensen's bed, flooding the room with soft safety, and turned on the tv. It was set at a low volume, but the noise of the infomercial was just enough to be bothersome. That done, he returned to trying to annoy Jensen out of sleep.

Finally, his frustration got the best of him, and despite knowing it wouldn't do any good, Jared projected his own concern for Jensen's well-being at the sleeping man. Jensen's eyes popped open, vividly green in the dim light. Jared leaned back over him, saying, "Hey, man, you all right?" It wasn't until he felt the wave of fear mixed with relief and one other emotion he couldn't quite but his finger on wash over him that he realized what happened.

He could feel Jensen. Every emotion. Everything. And it was addicting. Jared could have happily committed in that moment to eat, breathe, and sleep Jensen for the rest of his life, because the man he thought he knew was even richer inside. Jared locked eyes with him, and as they remained there staring at each other. Jared analyzed how Jensen's pupils were blown wide, and he realized what the last emotion was. Love.

Jared felt himself take a step back, conflicting emotions of his own desire and fear warring to gain control over his next action. He felt himself say, "Jensen, I didn't know." The statement was completely from left field.

Jensen, who still struggled to free himself from his own covers, didn't even break eye contact or ask Jared what he meant. He simply said, "I hide."

The covers slipped down his frame, revealing a bare chest, darkened nipples, and the fact that Jensen was still breathing heavily from his nightmare. Jared felt his own smothered love for Jensen return in full force, sweeping through him almost like a physical presence. He cleared his throat and tried to look somewhere - anywhere - from where his own personal wet dream was gazing at him under long lashes, but he couldn't help but glance back one more time.

Jensen's arm was out, hand raised toward Jared. "Come here." His face was unreadable, but Jared could feel Jensen's want for him - him! - and he couldn't help but respond. He stepped into Jensen's grasp and leaned in, blowing caution to the wind. He wanted those lips on his, to feel Jensen's skin beneath his fingertips, and when their lips met for a blazing first kiss, Jared knew he'd get all that and more.

It was a passionate kiss, open mouthed with Jensen's tongue sweeping across Jared's lower lip. Jared felt himself press into Jensen's mouth, licking and biting as well, and their teeth clacked together with the force of their passion. Jensen groaned quietly, and his hand swept up the side of Jared's body as he tried to shift position without breaking the kiss.

Only too happy to oblige, Jared moved enough to let Jensen slide into a sitting position, then stepped between Jensen's spread legs, noting quickly that he was wearing only a pair of blue plaid boxers. Jensen's hand maintained its place on Jared's ribcage, which gave Jared just enough courage to wrap his hands around Jensen's slender waist. Jensen let out another breathy moan, apparently approving of Jared's contact.

Because the bed sat up on cinderblocks, when Jared scooted in further into Jensen's space, his hips were separated from Jensen's crotch by only a few inches of space, and he badly wanted to touch more. He slid his hands around to Jensen's back, running his fingertips across the smooth skin before tugging Jensen's entire body toward his own, feeling the way their erections bumped between layers of cotton.

"Fuck," Jensen whispered, and using his free hand, he tangled his fingers in Jared's hair and tried to pull him closer.

Jared sought to reclaim Jensen's kiss-swollen mouth with his own, but Jensen was busy planting small nips and kisses down the side of Jared's neck. Jared's head lolled to the side, and he simply stood there, clutching Jensen tightly, but also reveling in the strong emotions racing through his body. They were not only his own, but Jensen's too. Lust, need, happiness, relief - things he never thought he'd feel from someone he'd been so positive was a Null. The effect on him, knowing that he could feel all of Jensen, was heady, filling him with the need to take this further.

Jared moved both of his hands higher, and with them wrapped around Jensen's chest, stroked across each of Jensen's nipples with his thumbs. Jensen's breath hitched, but his mouth didn't break the pattern it was making across Jared's collarbone. Jared tweaked Jensen's nipples, finally getting Jensen to pull away and meet his gaze.

"Let me on the bed," Jared said, and Jensen immediately scooted back against the wall, making room for Jared to hoist himself up. The blankets were still in a heap on the bed, so Jared shoved them to the very end as he climbed up, trying not to break contact with Jensen, who, when Jared looked back, was hooking his thumbs under the elastic of his boxers. Jared's mouth went dry, and his eyes flickered up to meet Jensen's very green, very intense stare.

"You ok with this?" Jensen asked, voice husky with want. Jared took only a moment to examine the view - Jensen's defined chest red with exertion, his sleep-tousled hair stuck up at odd angles, the way his legs bowed out in a silly and completely hot way.

"Yes, yes, Jensen." Jared was always bad at keeping his hands to himself. He reached out and put his hands to either side of Jensen's, and together they pulled off the plaid shorts, stopping only for a moment for Jensen to lift his hips off the bed. His erection bobbed against his stomach, and Jared couldn't help but admire it.

Jensen's cock curved slightly to the left, circumcised, and all-around a pleasing size. Jared hated to admit it, but he was a bit of a size slut, and had seen enough cock in the last couple of years of high school to say that this rated on his top five. He really hoped Jensen knew how to use it.

Jared realized that he'd been staring at Jensen's body a shade too long, and Jensen was likely getting freaked out. Jared flicked his eyes to meet Jensen's once more, and with a mischievous glance, he leaned over and licked a stripe up the bottom of Jensen's cock, and as he reached the head, flicked his tongue across it and then swallowed it down. Jensen's hips bucked beneath him, followed instantly by a mental flare of desire, and although he didn't mind, Jared lay one arm across the other man, just to keep him from choking Jared. He continued to lick and suck, scraping his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin.

He hadn't had sex since discovering the use of his Craft, and it seemed his abilities only got better. With each flick of his tongue, or when he fisted the bottom of Jensen's cock while paying special attention to the cockhead, Jensen's own desire seemed to amplify his own, and his own cock was straining against the soft fabric of his drawstring pajama pants. He was barely coherent enough to amplify the emotions back to Jensen, whose hands dug into Jared's longer hair and tugged him up to Jensen's face for a rough kiss.

"Take off your fucking pants," Jensen ordered, voice lowered to a hiss.
Jared complied, although awkwardly, since he was kneeling on the bed and didn't quite have the right balance. Jensen's hand wrapped around his cock as soon as it was freed from the pants' confines, and Jared found himself falling forward, one hand on Jensen's shoulder for support.

Jensen jacked him like that, hand rough enough that Jared only vaguely realized that he needed to be rough in return. Jensen wasn't one for tenderness, and Jared realized he kept forgetting to use his Craft to read Jensen - he was almost so attuned to him without it. When he focused, he could feel Jensen's vague, but direct need for a bit of pain with his pleasure, and instead of turning Jared off like he thought it might, it was kind of like a drug. Jensen felt these things. He was real, in front of Jared, craving things Jared could give.

"Oh, God," Jared whispered, the emotion coursing through him. Jensen had started doing some kind of twisting motion with his hand that was sending little bursts of pleasure straight up Jared's cock, and he knew that he would come before the fun really got started if he didn't pull himself away. He closed his hand around Jensen's, communicating his need for a little less contact, and Jensen released him.

"You turn me on a little too much," Jared said, capturing Jensen's full lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

"Good." Jensen yanked on Jared's arms, causing him to collapse down on Jensen's body. Jensen humped up against him, cock sliding over the sweat-slick skin at Jared's hip. They kissed more and slowly rutted against each other a while longer. Jared reached out to see how Jensen felt, and was alarmed when he realized that Jensen's emotions weren't as strong as before, like his defenses were coming up the longer he was awake.

It was probably his panic that caused what happened next, but Jared wouldn't think of that for several years. In his need to keep Jensen's mind and emotions open to him, he pushed more of his desire and need back at the older man, and when Jensen whispered, "Fuck me," all Jared could do was comply. All he knew was that he'd wanted Jensen from the first moment he'd seen him, long eyelashes and vivid green eyes drawing Jared in like a spell. He couldn't even count the number of times he'd caught himself thinking about the crow's feet that showed how often Jensen smiled, the confident way he held himself, and how cute Jensen was when he wore his basketball shorts and a wifebeater while hanging out in the room.

"Where's your stuff?" Jared asked, and Jensen twisted around to lean off the bed, somewhere in the vague direction of his dresser. Jared took the opportunity to give Jensen's ass a little slap, and he couldn't help but grin when he heard Jensen say, "Bitch!"
Then Jensen was twisting back around, condom and lube tumbling onto the bed beside him. He pushed Jared down onto the bed and straddled his hips, thrusting against him as he popped open the lube. Jared was all ready for Jensen to hand him the tube and let him do all the work, but Jensen squeezed an ample amount onto several fingers, reached around, and began to work himself open.

Jared's mouth went dry as he watched Jensen's eyes flutter shut, long lashes dusting his cheek, but also noticing how even though he couldn't see Jensen's eyes, his Craft allowed him to feel every burst of pleasure that went through Jensen's body. "Oh, God," he said, and fisted his own cock. Jensen above him, preparing himself - Jared suddenly felt sure this was a wet dream, and it was the best one he'd ever had.

It only got hotter from there. Jensen surprised him by beginning to roll the condom onto his dick - he must have been more engrossed in feeling what Jensen felt than he'd thought - and he couldn't help but toss his head against the mattress as Jensen's hands stroked him thoroughly before the condom went on.

"Fuck me," Jensen repeated, and Jared cracked his eyes, meeting Jensen's blazing stare. Then Jensen was pushing himself onto Jared's straining cock, and both of them groaned with the sensation. Jensen was so tight, but knew exactly what he wanted. Jared figured it was part of the pain/pleasure thing, and felt his body shudder happily in response.

"Go," Jensen moaned, with Jared still only partially settled in.

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

Jensen quirked an eyebrow and thrust himself down, shooting bursts of pleasure through Jared's body. Jared couldn't help but respond, fucking up into Jensen, admiring his beauty, and just wanting Jensen to ride him. Jensen apparently really liked sex. Jared approved.

They set a hard tone, Jared thrusting his hips at a regular, but intense speed, and Jensen coming down back on top of him. It was hot and fun, and Jared knew he could come from it, but he wanted more. When he said, "Let's turn around," Jensen was quick to comply.

Without breaking apart, they flipped over on the tiny dorm bed, which was holding up bravely against the onslaught to its legs. It took only a moment to get settled before Jared set a different rhythm, one that shook the bed frame and had Jensen grasping at the mattress and wall for support. Jensen made tiny noises that would have been cute on a girl, but were seriously sexy coming from him. Jared was aware that he was whispering, "C'mon, god, you're so hot," and other meaningless phrases, but it seemed to work for Jensen, who closed his eyes, apparently just enjoying the sensations. His legs wrapped tightly around Jared's body, encouraging him to keep going harder, faster.

The bed had taken up squeaking in protest to the abuse, but Jared hardly cared. He just wanted this moment. He reached out with his Craft and realized that despite their intimacy, his connection to Jensen was slipping away even faster, and he could barely feel the other man's emotions at all.

He reached between them and grabbed Jensen's cock, jacking it to the rhythm of their sex. It was not the best job he'd ever done, and if it had been him in Jensen's place he would have wanted some lube, but Jensen was getting off on it, hard. "J-Jared," he moaned, and Jared knew that Jensen was close to orgasm. It pushed him too, and as he realized he was going to come, he decided that he didn't want Jensen to only feel one side.

The orgasm burst through him, and as it did, Jared pushed at Jensen's mind with his Craft, sending the waves of pleasure through the thin veil that was left between sensing Jensen's emotions and having Jensen appear a Null once again. When Jensen shouted as he orgasmed, come streaming between them, Jared knew he’d succeded at making Jensen feel.

The sensation was like a magnifying glass between them, amplifying the pleasure that Jared was sending to Jensen with his Craft. Jensen's own orgasm somehow pushed it back at Jared, and that's when he felt it: whatever protected Jensen's mind from Craft just...blew away. It was like watching a window shatter, pieces of glass crumbling from the middle, jagged, painful, but also letting a rush of outside air in. He saw Jensen's eyes burst open, and even in the midst of the orgasm that seemed to last forever, Jared could feel it tinged with fear, shock, and uncertainty.

They pulled apart, and Jensen stared at Jared, emotions raw, mind open, and Jared felt himself retreat, knowing that he'd done this, and now something unexpected had happened and he hadn't the faintest clue what it was. Jensen breathed quickly - too quickly for just an orgasm - and he stumbled out of bed and pulled on his clothing. Jeans, work boots, a tee shirt and hoodie. Jared, stunned, could only watch as Jensen's hyperventilating got worse. He felt frozen, scared.

And then the door slammed and Jared sat there alone, naked, reeking of sex. In Jensen's bed.

Chapter Five | Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter Three

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:44:57 GMT

Chapter Three

Several weeks went by and school settled into a rhythm. Jared's classes didn't get any easier, but he did work out a good research routine with Sandy, and also got ready to accompany her on the Rush events that were happening in the upcoming weekend. She'd filled him in on a few more details. Apparently one was an actual formal, so Jared had his mom ship his suit from home. He could tell he'd grown even taller since he started school, but since the pants didn't highwater and the sleeves still fit, he resolved to get one last wear out of it before selling it on Craigslist.

The other event, more minor than the Saturday night formal, was, of all things, a type of field day on Friday afternoon. Rushers and their dates were encouraged to come play games like "three-legged run," "bob for apples," and other activities Jared remembered doing in elementary-school. He was amused by the whole concept of the matter, but also glad that Chad had readily agreed to be his wingman in the face of all the sorority girls. Jared actually couldn't figure out why Chad hadn't pledged, and when asked, Chad simply shrugged and said, "Too much structure, not enough unstructured porn."

Jensen had insinuated he had a hot date on Saturday (and wouldn't mention who the girl was, only saying, "I don't kiss and tell," which prompted Jared to respond, "So there will be kissing?"), but had Friday wide open, so Jared asked Sandy if Jensen could come along to Field Day. She agreed enthusiastically, and things were set.

It wasn't only the social aspect of his life that seemed to be improving. Professor Morgan had made good on his promise to bring in experts on many of the students' Crafts, and Jared had been able to sit down with a woman named Samantha Ferris, who was Empathic like he was. They'd had an intense week of practice before she had to return home to Alabama, and Jared had been able to ask many questions about how his Craft worked, how it was used to influence people, and why it was widely regarded as one of the stronger Crafts to exist. Samantha had tasked him to practice as often as possible to see if he could subtly influence a crowd of people, to change the atmosphere of a tense situation, and even to continue to try and get some kind of sense out of his Null roommate.

Samantha had also taught him other techniques, such as amplifying his own emotions, taking all emotion away from a crowd, and reaching deeper into someone's emotional state using his Craft to try and discern where an emotion came from. It was all becoming very apparent that his chosen major of psychology was the right thing for him to do.

He’d broached the subject of Empathy and ethics with her only once. Samantha clearly wasn’t as concerned as he was about the moral aspects, and had reassured him that he was “a good kid with a strong moral background.” She had told him that the more he practiced, the better he would get at telling which emotions were surface and more available to him to read, and which were more private. He hoped that was the case.

Friday rolled around, and Jared found himself out on Farrand Field, a large grassy area surrounded by dorms. A large bouncy castle had been set up in one corner and was charging admission to any interested student who wanted to bounce, but the rest of the event was for Rushers and guests only. Around the field were various games. Jared spotted piles of burlap sacks for sack races, several large tubs where people were bobbing for apples, and an area where a number of croquet stakes had been put in the ground. There weren't actually any croquet players; instead, people were using what looked like giant chopsticks to roll basketballs around the stakes in a pattern Jared couldn't figure out.

Jared had chosen a pair of knee-length jean shorts and a salmon pink polo for the event, figuring he'd look preppy-causal enough that he wouldn't immediately get pinged as "non-Fraternity material," although he wasn't wearing the little badge on his chest that indicated he was a Pledge or Rush candidate. Jensen had gone with a pair of blue soccer shorts and a tee shirt advertising a local brewing company, New Belgium, and Jared had almost collapsed in a fit of hysterical laugher at him. He'd been sure that Jensen wouldn't fit in at all, but was apparently wrong.

Together they wove through the throng of Sorority and Fraternity members, spotting at least one person trying to drink covertly from a flask. They were supposed to meet the girls at the three-legged race, which entailed running across a field in pairs with their legs closest to each other tied together. Both Sandy and Sophia were already there, each wearing what seemed to be a popular outfit for the female Rushers: short shorts, a tank top, knee-high sport socks, and tennis shoes. Chad was hovering next to them wearing plaid shorts and a yellow polo. Jared wasn't sure who the most ridiculous of them was, and he kind of loved it.

"C'mon!" Sophia barely spared a glance at Jared before grabbing Jensen's arm and tugging him toward the start of the race. "Let's be partners!"

Jared glanced at Chad, who he expected to be jealous, but the blonde gave Jared a thumbs up and mouthed, "Dare." Jared grinned and grabbed Sandy's hand. "You up for it?"

"Let's kick their asses." Her brown eyes were full of happiness, and Jared found himself giving a full-throated laugh as they got in place next to Sophia and Jensen.

A sorority sister affixed Jared and Sandy's legs together, and they waited until the referee blew the whistle, and took off down the grass. It didn't take more than a second for them to end up flat on their faces as Jared's long legs and Sandy's short ones didn't meet up on their second step, sending them toppling into each other. They squirmed around, and Jared saw Jensen and Sophia were in a similar predicament just a few feet away.

Several other couples were making much better time, probably because they were more similar in height. Jared twisted around and got his free right foot on the ground, then tugged Sandy up. "I'll take shorter steps, go!" They moved again, this time doing better, and Jared was glad to see that they were beating Jensen and Sophia, who were apparently using the same technique. Neither of them was about to win, though, so Jared simply made it his personal goal to get some ammo with which he could tease Jensen.

They toppled across the finish line just a second or two before Jensen made it and all collapsed to the ground, giggling hysterically. After unwrapping their legs, they made their way to the start, where Sophia had already found Chad, and the two were planning a "3-leg domination" over the other entrants.

"Let's go again, too!" Sandy said. "I just want to get a soda!"

"Ok, I'll be here." Jared waved at her and she set off across the field toward the big food stand that was selling hot dogs, hamburgers, and all sorts of carbonated sugar.

He leaned back against the nearby chain-link fence, arms crossed. Jensen stood next to him, and after a minute, kind of leaned into Jared. It was odd until Jared realized Jensen was getting heavier and heavier, and they stumbled to the side, laughing again. "Let's try the race together against Chad and Sophia," Jensen said as they regained their balance.

"You're on."

The race was just about to start, so they quickly got tied together, and when the referee yelled for them to start, Jared found this was much easier with a guy almost his size. He was pretty sure he had another inch or two to grow - his father had always said that he hadn’t stopped growing after graduating from college - but right now he and Jensen were almost even.

Jensen was howling like a madman beside him, this time in control of the right leg. Jared knew he was grinning from ear to ear, and they raced down the field ahead of the other groups. He couldn't even spare a glance behind them to see where Chad and Sophia were in the race; this was about winning. A few steps from the end, one of them rushed a bit and they stumbled, going down on top of the finish line. Jared ended up lying on top of Jensen, who was still giggling helplessly over the whole deal. Jensen's face was so open and free, and Jared almost felt his heart ache for want to feel the happiness coursing through his roommate's body.

He joined Jensen in the laugh, and when Jensen's eyes popped open he examined Jared, a strange look in his eyes. Jared realized he was just lying there on top of his roommate, and rolled away, got stuck because he rolled to the wrong side from where his leg was tied, and had to climb back over Jensen to get up on the correct side. Jensen's eyes tracked him as he moved, and Jared couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

By the time they got separated and were standing, Jared turned to find Sandy watching them, a drink in each hand, and a strange sense of sadness coming from her. He instinctively tried to reach deeper, to figure out where her emotions had come from, but shied away when he realized he was prying into her personal business.

"Hey," he said, walking over. "You ready to run the race again?"

Sandy glanced over at the area set up for it, and Jared felt a spike of something run through her. He didn't know enough about his abilities to know what it was.

"No," she finally said. "Let's move on to something new."

She was distant a while longer, but Jared put all his energy into cheering her back up, and by the time they made it to the bouncy castle, where they found that any form of continued jumping made Chad sicker than a dog, Sandy's emotions had returned to bright and happy.

_____

Jared stared at himself in the mirror. He felt like a reject prom date. It wasn't that the suit was bad. Or that his hair was bad. He just didn't want Sandy to feel like she brought some sub-par date to a function that needed to show how awesome and amazing she was. He sighed, and prodded at his hair again.

"Your makeup is fine, Jared. Stop it with the touch-ups already," Jensen said from behind his desk. The desk was near the back of the room, and Jared couldn't even see Jensen from where he stood.

"But I can't decide if I should go with Innocent or Slutitty Slut Slut for my lipstick choice,” Jared whined.

"Always Slutitty Slut Slut. Or the boys won't kiss you."

Jared heard a paper flip, and he craned his head back, just barely able to see part of Jensen's back and his ear. "I always get the kisses. I thought you knew."

"I must be doing something wrong, then, because my lipstick is always perfect." Jensen’s voice was unsteady with suppressed laughter.

"Does yours smell like grape?" Jared asked.

"No, it's odorless." More paper shuffling.

"That's where you're going wrong, then. Seriously, do I look ok? I feel like I'm going to prom." Jared smoothed down the front of his suit one more time.

Jensen wheeled his chair back and regarded Jared, pen between his lips. Jared felt his throat go a little dry - he was having a love affair with those lips - but he coughed to cover his momentary blankout and gave Jensen an expectant look.

"Dude, you went to prom less than six months ago.” Jensen said. “Did the girls like you then?"

"Uh, sure?" He hadn't actually gone to prom with a girl. But he was positive that if he was straight, he would have been ok.

"Then you're fine."

"So you don't have an opinion?"

Jensen rolled his eyes, not unfriendly, but also softened it with a smile. "You're not an eyesore. Get going. Aren't you meeting Sandy in ten minutes?"

Jared glanced at his watch and yelped. "Shit, yeah. You still going out on that date tonight?"

"Yes, mom, don't wait up."

He grinned, and as he walked out the door said, "I won't, patootie pants!"

Jensen's laughter followed him out of the room.

He arrived with only seconds to spare after jogging most of the way to Sandy's dorm, Sewell Hall, which was a bit off the beaten path. Apparently, a lot of the girls rushing lived there. It was completely across campus from Jared's dorm, but his long legs were damn trusty. Sewell was also on the way to the event house, which was a few blocks off campus in a little neighborhood area called The Hill.

Sandy was waiting out front, looking as adorable as a girl could get. She wore a knee-length black dress that curved to her form in all the right places, and her open-toed heels had little laces up the front. He was glad his suit was also black, so they matched.

"Hey, you look wonderful," he said, trying to be the image of a good friend. "I like the shoes." His mother had taught him long ago to always compliment a woman on something she wore when she looked nice.

Sandy's face blossomed into a huge smile, and Jared realized that compliments with Sandy could be dangerous since her crush on him was still raging strong. "Thank you! I love them too. And you look really nice too. Better than a lot of the Frat guys I've seen who are going to this thing."

"Excellent," He said, trying to recover his aplomb. He grinned, took her arm, and they set off to the event.

"Have you heard from Chad? He was supposed to meet Sophia a few minutes before you and I left, but hadn't shown by the time I went out front."

"You know him," Jared said. "I think he'll be there to sweep her off her feet and have them make a mad dash to the event. More fun or something." He continued to chatter, but inside, as loud as he possibly could, and hoping that Chad could pick it up, thought, Get to Sophia's room, STAT. He had no idea if Chad could pick up projections from non-telepaths, but it never hurt to try.

Sandy had prepped him on the basics for the evening. Go, mingle, probably get a little drunk, and try and show off what a shining star Sandy was to all the sororities in attendance. Jared just wasn't sure what to expect beyond that. Drunken antics? Drinking games? Being snubbed by anyone who didn't like him or Sandy? He knew he was working off all sorts of preconceptions about the Greek system, but didn't want to offend Sandy by asking rude questions.

He got his answers soon enough. They strolled through a neighborhood that seemed to be peppered with an array of tiny houses followed by voluminous mansions, and arrived at a lit up sorority house. Pink, black, and white balloons littered the fence around the front yard, while yard sconces glowed on each side of the walkway up to the house. The door stood wide open, and the inside was even more outlandish. Ribbons and bows and decor of all kinds - but only in pink, black, and white - hung around the walls. The throng of people inside surprised Jared, but they were all animated and happy, and he could only read excitement with his Craft.

A girl standing near the entrance took a pair of tickets from Sandy, then handed her two cups. With a "have fun!" she sent them off into the crowd. Jared was pretty sure the beer that ended up in his cup wasn't supposed to be served at a party for freshmen, but he rolled with it and escorted Sandy toward the back where a crowd of girls stood. He wasn't quite sure what to say, or if Sandy wanted him to say anything, but she burst into the crowd all on her own, introducing him as her friend, then getting introductions from all the girls there. That's when Jared realized he wasn't really there to do anything. He was there to be eye candy. It was rather obvious with the way the girls all gave him a strict once over with their eyes.

He had to stop himself from squirming, and vowed to stick close to Sandy to keep any advances from happening.

That whole plan fell to shit about an hour later, when Sandy disappeared into the crowd with a few new friends, and Jared found himself wandering aimlessly around the party, a little drunk and more than a little bored. This lifestyle just wasn't for him. He'd never had any trouble making friends, and didn't really require a pre-set group of friends to be given to him after he passed a bunch of tests. That's how he saw it, anyway. He knew that the resume opportunities that the Greek system gave were supposed to be good, but it was just not who he wanted to be.

After swallowing one last cup of beer, he deposited his cup in the trash, resolving not to get drunker than he was, already aware that his ability to sense emotions was muted. He then fought off the advances of a cute Sister who didn't seem to get that "no" meant "no." In an attempt to escape her, he went upstairs, expecting to see more partygoers, but found the area to be conspicuously silent. It also put him away from the throng of drunken emotions, and that was when he felt the first tinge of outside panic. It wasn't strong, like it was buried under a layer of blankets, but he recognized it as not his, and definitely nearby.

On autopilot, Jared began to open all the doors, trying to find whoever was in trouble. He was afraid that in a house like this, with numerous bedrooms and several stories, he'd be looking forever. The panicked emotion he felt was so strong, though, he "accidentally" broke the frame on one door and pushed his way inside a room, the scene inside justifying his vandalism.

Sandy was lying on a bed, two tall guys on either side of her. One was leaning over the top of her body, holding her wrists, while the other one had his hands between her legs. Her dress was shoved up around her waist, but Jared was relieved to see that she still wore underwear.

The two guys whipped their heads around as he burst into the room, and the one holding her wrists released his grip enough that Sandy squirmed away and off the side of the bed.

"Jared!" she screamed, and his drunken haze fell away. The subdued emotions were coming stronger now - Sandy's fear, the lust (now anger) of the two men - and Jared knew that he'd gotten lucky to find her.

"Get outta here," he said, and stood up to his full height. Jared could hold his own in a fight. He'd had enough brawling experience with his older brother that he knew how to use his height to his advantage, and he'd been picked on enough as "that Padalecki fag" in high school that a two-against-one situation had ceased being scary long ago.

"Dude, kick his ass," the blonde guy on the bed told his friend. The friend, a brunette with acne scars, rushed Jared, who weaved to the side and snaked out an arm, punching the brunette hard in the face. The kid went down cursing and clutching his face, and Jared regarded the blonde again.

"Leave or I will mess you up. And take him with you." Using every bit of knowledge he had, Jared sent a wave of fear toward the guy, trying to diffuse his anger into something Jared could manage. It seemed to work, as the guy slid past Jared, grabbed his friend, and hauled him out of the room and around the corner.

Jared rushed over to Sandy, who was huddled in a corner. Her hair was a mess and her makeup running as she cried, but she was safe. "I got you," he said. "Let's get outta here."

"I can't, Jared," she sobbed, and hugged him. "I need to stay and make a good impression."

"Sandy, those guys--"

"Weren't fraternity. They were talking about how they snuck in. Can I just have a hug?" She pulled him in and he wrapped her up, feeling how tiny she was, and resolved to never let this happen again to her. She tucked her face beneath his chin, and he just held her, whispering in her ear that it would be ok.

When her lips touched his chin, he thought that she was just shifting position. He moved his head to get out of her way, but her lips captured his, and he couldn't quite disguise the way he pulled back in shock.

"Sandy, I--" The words died on his lips as he saw the knowing look in her eyes.

"Oh." She sighed, and buried her face against his chest. "I should have gotten it."

"Gotten what?" All he could feel from her was embarrassment and resignation.

"You. You and Jensen. Yesterday on the field."

"He's my roommate."

"No." Sandy stared him in the eye. "The way you guys looked at each other. The way you looked at him. I thought maybe I was wrong, but I'm not. Are you gay, Jared?"

He froze, then nodded, trying to tell himself he'd kept it from her for a good reason.

She sighed, then clutched at the nearby night stand and pulled herself up to sit on the bed. Jared sat down next to her. "I had hoped it was just me being a girl or something, but no. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Fear?" He shrugged, feeling like an idiot. "It wasn't about that, Sandy. You don't have to walk around announcing your sexual preference, so why should I?"

"Wasn't I obvious enough?" A shade of anger entered her emotions. "Wasn't asking you out enough?"

"I thought we could be friends." It was the only thing he could think to say. All the other reasons he’d told himself – that he was being a good friend, that he could ignore away Sandy’s crush – they all sounded so hollow in his mind. He had just scared off two guys, knocked one out, and here he was, reduced to helplessness.

"Not tonight, Jared. Can you go? Sophia texted me. She and Chad are here. I'll hang with them."

"But, what about those guys?"

"I'll be safe, Jared. I'll tell Chad to keep me safe. I just need to get touched up and I'll be fine. I just--I need some time."

He didn't like it, but he knew that she wouldn't be happy around him for the rest of the night. "Fine. But can you text me when you get home so I know you're safe?"

Sandy nodded, mutely, then stood and entered the room's adjoining bathroom. She shut the door and Jared knew a dismissal when he saw it. He went downstairs, couldn't spot Chad or Sophia, and exited the party.

The night was still warm, so Jared removed his suit jacked and untucked his shirt, then took a few deep breaths and stared up at the stars as he walked. He didn't know what to do, especially if his friendship with Sandy was inexorably altered. They still had the project, and if that was all messed up, there went his grade. Not just that, but he had to consider the friendship was permanently over. He thought back to the first time they met and how frustrating he found her interest, but over time it had simply become a part of the creature that was Sandy. He liked her and wanted her in his life, and here he’d gone and fucked it up.

Jared found himself ambling around campus instead of heading straight back to the dorm room. He didn't want to go back and lie there and worry about Sandy, wonder if Jensen was having a great time on his date, while generally feeling alone in the world. He could sense all these emotions, all the time, yet he couldn't figure out his own friendships. He had a crush on his roommate, who was the only person whose emotions were closed to him. The girl he thought could be his best friend was pissed at him for not exploding his gay all over her from the moment they first met, and he couldn't find much else to be mopey about, but wasn't this enough?

He ducked between two buildings and sat down on a bench for a while, trying to ignore the little Jared on his shoulder who was reminding him that he did good tonight, that his Craft had enabled him to save Sandy from a rape. He hated to admit it, but it helped him feel better about the whole proceedings. Even if he lost her friendship, he'd helped her out, and that was a small consolation.

He sent a text to Chat – everything ok?? – and got a quick affirmative in return. It made him feel better that things hadn’t fallen apart any further.

After putting everything in its mental place, Jared resumed his walk around campus. He was near the English building, a very pretty area that had vines growing up the sides of the brick buildings, and very few lights at night. He kind of liked it, so he slowed his walk and took a detour around a building to give him the chance to walk by the school's Shakespeare-esque theater, a small, outside amphitheater made of flagstone, and surrounded by lush greenery.

His brain was so full, when he stumbled upon them, it was a total surprise. Jared became aware that he was walking toward a couple that was standing under one of the barely-there lights, kissing. It took him a moment to register the two male bodies, one slightly grinding against the other. The shorter guy was pressing the taller one up against the brick wall, greenery obscuring the taller man's face. A quiet moan carried to where Jared could hear, and he was transfixed. There was just something incredibly sensual about the two of them, the slow movements of their bodies against one another, the way their breathy enjoyment was so secret.

Jared knew he was intruding, and finally got the wherewithal to back away. He reached out, just a tiny bit, to feel their lust and their happiness, and that was when two things happened. He only found one mind, and the taller man whispered, "Jensen."

Jared's foot scraped across the ground, and the two men stopped. The shorter one, Jensen, turned his head at the noise, and Jared's heart thudded in his chest as he saw Jensen's heavy-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips, and Jared had never wanted anything so badly in his life. All he could do was stand there and blink, and try not to explode into a thousand little pieces of want, now.

"Jared?"

Jensen's question seemed to be a few parts confusion, a few parts exasperation, and something else Jared couldn't figure out. It served to break him out of his shock, and he found himself shuffling backwards.

"I - sorry. Uh, room, later, bye." He turned and walked as fast as he could without making it look like he was running, but Jared knew that was what he was really doing.

He arrived at the room in record time, stripped down to his boxers, and went to go take a cold shower. His brain was in a loop, seeing Jensen's tiny thrusts against the other man over and over. It was as if a whole new world had opened up to Jared. His roommate was interested in guys, same as him, and suddenly all his daydreams took on an entirely new meaning. Despite the shower's temperature, Jared quickly brought himself to orgasm, imagining the way Jensen would look, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as Jared fucked him senseless.

_____

Jared woke early the next morning, another dream of being chased fresh on his mind, checked his phone and saw that Sandy had made it home safely, and then became aware that Jensen's form was curled up snugly in bed. Jared was used to Jensen being gone by now - the other man had admitted to hating mornings, but didn't want to sleep in on weekends because it would mess up his sleep schedule.

It was already 9:30, and Jared's stomach was rumbling. He didn't want to wake Jensen up - that was one conversation he wasn't sure he could handle before breakfast - so he slipped on his clothing and ducked out of the room, imagining all the while that Jensen was exhausted from the night before from fucking some unknown guy that Jared would kill to be.

He went to the dining hall, got a Jared-sized portion of pancakes, and flopped down at a small table by himself, then stared out the window. The day was overcast, but not yet rainy. Jared liked that it fit his mood.

"If you were a horse, I'd ask, 'Why the long face?'" Chad said, slipping in across from him. Chad was bravely trying the quiche.

"Life suddenly went crazy on me."

"Yeah, what happened last night? Sandy just said that you and she had a bit to work out and it was best you had some space. And also that you saved her butt, but you know that part."

Jared resisted the impulse to face plant into his pancakes. Instead, he picked at one with his fork, and finally took a bite, considering what to say to Chad.

"So. There's this thing you should know about me. I'm gay."

He waited for Chad to blow up or recoil in horror or something, but Chad just took another bite and said, "So?"

"So? That's it. I'm gay."
"Dude, I know. I'm a telepath. Every telepath on campus probably knows you're gay, the way you've been angsting over hiding it from Sandy."

Jared gaped at him, then set his fork on the table so he wouldn't poke his own eyeballs out with it. "You knew. For how long?"

"Dude, you're gay. It's a lot of what you think about, on your very surface thoughts. I pick that shit up. I know you think Professor Morgan in smoking hot - no, don't deny it, I know it's an idle thought - and I know that you have it bad for your roommate." Chad pointed his fork at Jared and squinted. "You think you can hide from me? Nah."

"But, you played along with me. You didn't even mention this when we met Sandy and Sophia that day."

"Jared, it's not up to me to spill your secrets. If you want to be quiet about it, that's your prerogative."

They ate in silence for a while, and then Jared couldn't take it any longer. "And you don't care. It doesn't bug you."

"More girls for me, dude." Chad winked at him and gave a quick, sleazy smile. Jared found himself laughing, and began to explain everything that had happened. By the time he was done, both their plates had been empty for a while, and Chad had a serious look on his face, but no good advice other than, "Just talk to him, Jared. Sandy's out of your hands for now, but you're living with Jensen. You two need to talk."

"That's the weirdest advice, coming from you," Jared said, but left the dining hall feeling more confident in his ability to tackle the issue.

When he entered the room, he found Jensen lying on his stomach in bed, watching a football game on the small tv they had set up in the corner. They locked eyes, and Jared calmly slid off his sweater, then hopped up on his own bed and tried to figure out what to say. There was a large cup of dining hall coffee next to Jensen's bed, and Jensen was wearing his jeans and a maroon tee-shirt, so he must have come and gone while Chad and Jared had their talk.

All sorts of random things popped into Jared's head, like, </i>"So how 'bout them Broncos?"</i> but he knew that being flippant wasn't going to start this conversation off on the right foot. He also considered maybe ignoring the whole deal, sweeping it under the proverbial rug, but even being unable to read Jensen's emotions, Jared could see that Jensen was expecting some kind of confrontation.

"I'm sorry for last night," he found himself blurting out, and could feel a blush coming on. "I, uh, I didn't know you were going to be there, but you know that, and Sandy and I had a fight, so I left early. I was just walking around, totally minding my own business, and I really shouldn't have even stopped. I didn't want to intrude, but I did, and I'm sorry. And I'm babbling. I'm shutting up now." He clamped his mouth shut, watching Jensen's expression go from wary to almost amused. The silence stretched out between them, and he finally cratered one more time. "Say something, please."

Jensen sat up, hanging his legs over the edge of the bed, and finally spoke. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"Why would we have a--oh." Jared suddenly realized he was leaving out something that would help equalize the moment. "Uh, no. It's funny, since the residency office must have incredibly good gaydar or something."

Jensen raised his eyebrows, and Jared sighed. "I'm not being clear, sorry. I'm gay, Jensen. I could care less that you were with a guy. I'm just sorry--" it wasn't me "--I intruded."

"You're gay." The note of disbelief in Jensen's voice was obvious.

"I'm gay. No reason to lie to you. Why else would I not be into Sandy? She's every guy's wet dream."

"So why didn't you just turn around when you saw us? What was that about?"

"Are you serious? I'm walking along, catch two guys making out, and you expect me to have enough wits about me to immediately turn around, and also not just think for a moment that it was hot?" He clamped his mouth shut again as he realized what he'd said. It must have embarrassed Jensen too, because he flushed and ducked his head.

"Can we just proceed as normal, please?" Jared felt himself wincing. He would have given anything to be able to read Jensen.

"You realize I'll never be able to think of you as anything less than a peeping tom, right?"

Jared gaped at Jensen's utterly serious face, until the side of Jensen's mouth twitched and he dissolved into laughter.

"You asshole!" Jared threw his pillow at Jensen, and badly wanted to follow it up with a punch to the shoulder, but unexpectedly realized that there was a new level of awkwardness he felt with Jensen. It wasn't a bad feeling, but more that he was aware of a boundary between them that hadn't existed before, the boundary that was drawn between friends versus flirting. Because Jared didn't know anymore how to tell one from another with Jensen.

He was so fucked.

Chapter Four | Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter Two

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:38:19 GMT

Chapter Two

A few boxes lay scattered throughout the room, and Jared could see that Jensen's bed had been raised up on cinder blocks to accommodate the dresser underneath. It was a common thing to do, and Jared had done the same thing to his bed. It meant there was more room overall, since both their dressers stood out of the way. He liked it. A dark green comforter lay across the bed that had been empty this morning, but had a few items scattered on top of it. Some clothing, a blue body pillow, but no Jensen. Jared hoped the guy wasn't someone who just left his door open for anyone to come steal stuff.

"Hello?" he said, and heard a bang and a bark of pain from underneath the bed.

The guy who had to be Jensen popped out from his crouched position, rubbing his head where he must have hit it. Jared's first instinct was to say something apologetic, since accidentally hurting your roommate the first day you've met doesn't bode well for the rest of the year, but after looking at the guy, his tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth and the words died on his lips.

Jensen was possibly the most stunning man Jared had ever laid eyes on. Just slightly shorter than Jared, which was a huge plus in his book, Jensen's tee shirt showed off a slightly thicker build than Jared had, but one that demonstrated that Jensen probably worked out and cared for himself. Jared couldn't see past the guy's waist because stacked boxes were in his way, but that didn't matter. Aside from his strong build, Jensen's eyes were what caught Jared the most. Framed by long, delicate lashes, Jensen's green eyes were nearly transfixing in their intensity. The lush lips, laugh lines at his eyes, and slight cleft in his chin were almost an afterthought, though Jared knew he'd appreciate those plenty later.

"Hey, caught me by surprise, sorry," Jensen said, which Jared barely heard as he was trying to take in everything in front of him.

"Uh, yeah!" He forced himself to respond. "I'm Jared, your roommate."

"Good to meetcha." Jensen sidestepped some boxes, showing off delicious bowlegs, and Jared reached out to shake his hand, automatically going to see what Jensen's mood was like, how the situation felt.

Jared’s surprise must have shown on his face because his smile suddenly felt very fake and frozen. Jensen delicately took his hand to give a small shake. "You ok, buddy?" The easy smile hadn't left Jensen's face, but it didn't matter to Jared.

He didn't know what Jensen was feeling. He couldn't read Jensen at all. The man was completely blank. Jared had never run across anyone before who had affected him this way. It was like suddenly being blind after seeing his entire life, and it was so nerve-wracking he almost couldn't cope. The only thing that saved him was the realization that he had gone from being unable to distinguish his Craft to knowing exactly what it felt like.

"I'm fine. Just - just a long day." Jared moved past him, still reeling with the implication that Jensen felt like he wasn't even there, and hopped up on his bed. "When did you get in?" He could cover for this. He could make conversation.

"Just an hour or so ago. Like I wrote you, I had my aunt's third or fourth wedding to attend. It's something crazy. I can't get over it." Jensen knelt down to crawl back under the bed, apparently fiddling with some speaker wires. Jared definitely didn't look at his butt. "I can't believe I had to attend, but my mother is just so dedicated to her sister, and it wouldn’t have gone over well with the family."
"That's lame, dude. Missing class and all."

"Ah, nothing too important happens on the first day. I'll be fine." Jensen unfolded himself again, this time careful not to bang his head. "You a freshman?"

Jared's eyebrows shot up. "You're not?"

"Heh, no. I'm entering my senior year."

"So why are you rooming with a freshman like me? No apartment off campus? No girlfriend you're moving in with?"

Jensen shrugged. "I just want to finish out the year. I like company and my buddies all got a place together without me - and I gave them endless shit for it - but it's not so bad having someone make your food and clean your bathroom."

It didn't escape Jared's attention that Jensen had dodged the question about living with a freshman. He felt pretty sure a regular senior would have at least tried to get a single or room with another senior, but there was nothing he could do to read Jensen's emotion regarding the subject. Any kind of emotion would have given him something to go on, but all he could sense was a large void. Despite his natural tendency to dig information out of people, he decided to let the subject rest. It rankled, though. Jared was used to knowing exactly what he could do to handle a situation.

"So, anything I can do to help with the unpacking efforts?"

"Nah, I got it." Jensen flashed a smile and continued to organize his stuff in the room. Jared watched for a while, but after starting to feel a bit stalkerish and lame, he pulled out his laptop and got started on his assignments.

Despite having the screen open in front of him, he couldn't help but wonder if Jensen regretted having him for a roommate. He’d already gone all weird on Jensen during their introductions. Did Jensen think he was some dumb freshman and was wishing he’d been more aggressive about living with an older roommate? The whole thing was freaking Jared out just enough that when Chad texted his phone and said, "Let's catch dinner," Jared was only too happy for the break.

He was about to leave for dinner when he realized that Jensen hadn't had food either, and being that Jared was from Texas, he couldn't just walk out to get food without inviting the guy he'd be spending the year with. “Hey,” he said, “I’m grabbing dinner with a pal. Interested? It’s dining hall food.”

Jensen looked up from where he was shelving a few books in the meager bookcase the school supplied, a wide grin on his face. "Yeah, that'd be great." He stood and wiped his palms on his pants, and Jared had yet another twinge of thinking that Jensen was possibly the cutest guy he'd ever seen.

When they arrived at the dining hall, Chad wasn't anywhere in sight, so the two of them shared what Jared could only assume was an uncomfortable silence as they made their way past the salad bar and soda machines to get in line behind the other students. From what Jared could see, it was something that looked like mac and cheese, so he figured it was pretty safe. It wasn’t anywhere close to what his momma would have cooked back home, but when he saw Jensen get a generous helping, he figured he could trust the senior’s experience. Jared scouted the room one last time for Chad before they found a table near one of the windows.

Jared sent a quick text with their location and they dug in to eat.

"You sound like you're from Texas," Jensen said after a few bites, eating more daintily than Jared could have ever hoped to.

"Yeah, San Antonio. You?"

"Richardson. You don't run into many Texans up here in Boulder. Why'd you choose to come? I personally got sick of hearing ‘Hook ‘em Horns!’ every time someone worshiped at the altar of UT."

Jared barked out a laugh, but forced a casual look on to his face and rattled off the excuse he'd gotten really great at giving since realizing he couldn't tell people, Because they're going to teach me how to use my Craft. "I just heard really good things about it, and I felt like a break from Texas for a while. Besides, I'm signed up as a Psych major right now, but I have no idea if I'll keep it or move on to something else. What are you studying?"

"Biology. I'm interested in doing Physical Therapy as a Master's, but I definitely needed the biology degree to back it up."

"Burly." Jared felt kinda stupid next to all these people who were doing Engineering and Biology, and wondered, just at the back of his mind, if he should look into something other than Psychology. He’d heard quite a few jabs about getting his major in “Arts and Parties.”

A tray slid in next to Jared's, and he looked up, seeing both Chad and Kristen getting ready to settle themselves. Both were radiating strong emotions of happiness, he felt, and it was such a relief to get those cues. He'd been so focused on trying to read Jensen, he'd completely forgotten to open himself up to the emotions of the other students in the dining hall.

"I'm starved. How ya doing?" Chad started attacking his meal right away, and Jared laughed.

"Dude, take a breath. You haven't met my roommate yet. Chad and Kristen, this is Jensen. Jensen, Chad and Kristen."

"I assume you're Chad?" Jensen said to Kristen, smile playing at the corner of his mouth and reflected in his eyes. She giggled, but took his hand in a firm shake.

Chad was next, but as they grasped palms, Jared could see Chad's bemused expression drain from his face, mirrored by a sudden change in his emotional presence, one that Jared could only describe as cold. He knew Chad had picked up on something from Jensen, and wanted dinner to be over already so he could question his friend about it.

Kristen was the one who ultimately saved dinner from being a completely awkward affair, keeping up conversation with all the guys about sports, movies, and other lightly trivial topics. Jared, despite being slightly clueless about things like that, picked up that Kristin was flirting with Jensen.

He was fine with that, really. After all, it wasn't like the chances of Jensen being gay were high, and the chances of Jensen being gay and into Jared were even lower. Really, fine.

After the meal, Jared made a quick excuse to stop by Chad's room before returning to his own, and as soon as the two cleared the dining hall, even with a flood of students still coming by to get dinner, Chad's fists clenched in Jared's tee shirt and he leaned in close, hissing, "What the fuck, Jared!"

Jared felt his hands clench, not in anger at Chad, but in sympathy. He knew the frustration Chad was feeling. "I don't know, man. He's like a blank wall to me. I walked into the room and didn't even feel that he was there. I have no idea if he's happy, sad, whatever!" He knew he was getting a bit loud when a couple of girls wearing pajama bottoms and slippers shuffled by them, shooting them both alarmed looks, and he tried to lower his voice. "I don't know what to do."

"C'mon." Chad tugged him down the stairs until they reached the basement. They slipped inside Chad's room, a single that was wallpapered with pictures girls out of Playboy centerfolds, expensive cars, and gory horror films (all of which caused Jared to roll his eyes in amusement). After Chad shut the door, he whirled back around. "Did you call Morgan?"

"No," Jared said, abashed. He hadn't even thought of it. "But we'll see him tomorrow, right? It's not like Jensen's dying or anything?" He hesitated, eyes wide. "Or could he be?"

"I don't know, man. I've never touched anyone who didn't at least give me some impression before. I mean, I don't read thoughts intentionally, but whenever I touch someone, I get surface shit, like that general level of 'Oh, look, Chad has blue eyes and ain't he hot stuff' type things. Jensen? Nothing. It's creepy, dude, that's what it is. You gotta talk to Morgan."

"I will!"

"Okay. And tell me what he says."

"I will!"

"You better." Chad flopped down on a wheely chair that was clearly not dorm issue, and rolled backward on the tile floor until the chair hit the wall. Jared was impressed that Chad's room was so clean, despite the trash for decor.

"So...wanna play some Xbox?" Chad grinned and pointed to the video game system conveniently hidden underneath his bed.

"Uh, you know I do!" Jared made himself comfortable on Chad's bed and did his best to forget about the Jensen issue.

_____

Jensen was asleep when Jared got back to the room, which was a slight blessing. Jared turned in as well, realizing he'd gotten none of his homework done, but couldn't find the energy to be angry at himself. He felt he'd actually done something even more important with his time. If a few hours of video game playing in Chad's room helped him find a really solid friend to start his college career, he was all for it. Of course, he wasn't going to tell his mother that he spent the night not doing homework.

He drifted off to sleep thinking about how busy today had been, despite the fact his schedule had not been that full.

Jared abruptly found himself dropping a few feet on to a rock ledge, looking around to see who else was out there in the darkness. He couldn't hear any sounds beyond the rustle of branches and grass in the slight wind that ruffled his hair, but the way his skin dotted with goose bumps, he knew there was something out there. Watching him. Stalking him.

When he looked up, all he could see was a large rock formation behind him. He knew he'd come from up top, but not why or how he'd gotten there. Despite knowing that higher ground gave him an advantage against whatever it was, he knew that he couldn't stay there, that he had to keep moving.

Spurred by his spark of fear, Jared hopped the rest of the way down the rocky hillside, stumbling over the steeper areas and hoping he wouldn't fall. The dark of night seeped across the landscape in front of him, inky black with only a few stars to light his way. Where there should have been a moon was nothing.

A rock tumbled down the outcropping behind him and he whirled, expecting to see something flying at his face. It was nothing. It had to be nothing. He sucked in a deep breath, but before he could exhale, a hand grabbed his neck from behind and a deep, masculine voice hissed in his ear. "Caught you."

He came awake with a gasp, covers pooled around his waist and hanging off the bed. Jared had evidently done an excellent job of getting himself wrapped up in them, because it took more than a few seconds to extract himself from the places where his sheets wrapped around his legs. Sweat pooled in the small indent between his pecs, and he felt disgusting knowing it was already drying on his skin. No wonder he'd had such a crazy dream, being trapped in the covers like that. Yuck.

He rolled from the bed, aware that his alarm was just about to go off. Jensen's bed - apparently he was going to be looking for Jensen every time he came in the damn room - was already empty and made. Jared wasn't terribly worried. He didn't have class today until ten, then one at eleven and finally noon would be his chance to speak with Professor Morgan about how his life had taken a turn for the weird.

Breakfast, homework, and his first classes couldn't seem to go fast enough. Although both earlier classes were brand new and focused on subjects Jared enjoyed, right now they simply seemed a waste of time. His mind whirled, caught up in the unsettled feeling the dream had left him with. The combined stress of the dreams and his upcoming conversation with Professor Morgan left Jared feeling off-kilter.

It wasn't until someone tapped him on the shoulder during Native American Literature that Jared realized how far away his mind had been, and the teacher had evidently called for the class to group into pairs.

A small, very petite woman was shuffling her things over next to his from a few chairs away, her bright, white smile infectious and truly happy. Jared felt his mood lightening already. The prospect of making a new friend was good. He gave the girl the once over while her head was turned, noting well-kept long brown hair, a simple white and blue sundress, and flip-flops.

The girl was also incredibly pretty. Jared bet she got hit on all the time. And got free tire rotations. Sometimes he wished he could play the cute-girl-card.

She finally got settled in the chair next to him and stuck out her hand, smile back on her face. "Hi, I'm Sandy."

"Jared."

"So, Jared, you looked like you were spacing out there."

"A little," he admitted. "Just getting used to everything."

"Me too." Sandy shifted so her legs were crossed, then leaned in. Jared was suddenly aware that she was flirting with him.

"So, since I was a bit out of it, what is it that we're supposed to do?" He was going to try his best to deflect, deflect, deflect. He didn’t want to have to deal with a flirty classmate while trying to figure out the Jensen issue.

"We're just picking teams for a presentation in a few weeks. The teacher said she'd pass around an instruction form." Right on cue, the student to Jared's other side tapped him on the shoulder and shuffled a pile of papers into his hands. He grabbed the top two and kept the pile going, then he and Sandy took a few minutes to read over the instructions.

The assignment was a comprehensive analysis of one Native American author's line of works, with a list of suggested authors to read and study. Jared had the feeling he'd be seeing a lot of Sandy in the next few weeks, and also realized that he was going to have to fight for every available minute of time he could to study his Craft. The warm, happy feelings he thought he was getting from Sandy told him she, too, knew they'd be together quite a bit.

Somehow he was going to have to tell her he was gay. It wasn't as if he was ashamed of it. Boulder, as far as small towns went, was pretty liberal. Jared had already seen two girls holding hands on the field outside the library, and he knew that if he picked up a boyfriend during school, he wasn't going to hide it behind "football dates" or other weird excuses. He'd fought long and hard with his parents to be accepted for who he was, which was funny considering his mother hadn't minded at all when the subject of his Craft had come up, and Jared had already vowed to never take a job that made him hide his true self.

His mother’s easy acceptance of Jared’s innate magical ability was such a polar opposite to the panic she’d first expressed when he’d come out of the closet. She’d said such things as, “Oh, you know your grandmother had a touch of the gift,” and, “The gift is something that runs in our family.” Jared had found the statements to be more than a little hypocritical. He just didn’t get how she could find magic to be perfectly acceptable, since it was something he couldn’t ever mention to “normal” people, while his sexual orientation was so scary.

His mother took nearly a year to come to the point where she called him “gay” without the word sounding like an insult. She was still coming to terms with being able to say “boyfriend” around him, but was getting better. Jared’s father had been much the same, but Jared had the impression it didn’t bother his father nearly as much.

The thing was, he didn't want to try and figure out how to handle Sandy’s interest right now. Sandy seemed involved in the course content, which was more than he could say for other students, and the prospect of having a motivated partner was more important to Jared than trying to be out and proud to deny her interest. He figured that after they worked together a few times she'd either get it that he wasn't interested or his affections lay elsewhere.

At last class ended. Sandy and Jared traded phone numbers ("Do you mind if I call you for fun, too, Jared?”) and the exchange took just long enough that by the time Jared got to his Craft class, Professor Morgan was beginning to speak.

"Craft takes practice. Concentration. Ability. It's also something that you are either born with or without. Like your five senses, you can strengthen your Craft by practicing.

"I'm not saying you can see better if you practice seeing, but take art as an example. A trained eye may be able to tell you if you're seeing Monet or Manet. If a piece is done in oil or acrylic. A trained ear can tell you if you're hearing a viola or a cello.

"All this comes back to your brain. Your eyesight, hearing, smell, taste, everything. It connects to your brain, so if you are born without the right link to Craft, you cannot do Craft. It's like being able to hear, but being tone deaf. Being able to see, but being color blind. A person who cannot manipulate Craft won't be in this class, but you are likely to be able to include them in your world. For instance, our telepath Chad can read everyone’s thoughts, not just the ones who are sensitive to Craft.

Jared's hand shot up. This was exactly what he had wanted to talk about. Professor Morgan gave him a nod, the go-ahead to speak. "What if you run into someone that you can't sense with Craft or who seems to be completely...numb to it?"

"I was just getting there, Jared, but that's a good point. It doesn't happen very often, but sometimes we find individuals who are completely numb to Craft. They can't practice, receive, or even influence it. It's like knowing someone who was born without an optic nerve. They may have all the biological equipment except for one vital piece. Since we don't know what part of the brain controls Craft, we can't fix it. It's a very frustrating thing to experience."

"What about people who get their eyesight repaired? Like a donor organ?"

"Good point, Chad, but it relates back to my point. If we can't pinpoint it, we can't fix it. Perhaps someday Craft will become recognized within the medical community, but until then, there is no solution."

Another student raised her hand. "Do people who are numb to Craft--"

"Nulls," Morgan cut in.

"Nulls...do they affect people who don't use Craft?"

"Another good question. Because most people are not consciously using a Craft or don't have access to it, no, they probably aren't affected by a Null presence. They might find a Null a little hard to read sometimes, or choose not to form a close friendship, but by far and large, Nulls live just as great a life as everyone else. They tend to surround themselves with other Craft-insensitive people, much like you'd probably form a tight friendship with someone who loved music, and you were into it as well."

Professor Morgan walked to the blackboard and scrawled a large word across it. PRACTICE. He faced the class.

"I know I told you this yesterday, but I want it to sink in. If you can humanly practice your Craft once a day, I want you to do it. Last night I sent in a profile of your unique abilities to a few friends who will be able to gather me a list of other people with similar abilities. I expect our first tutor session will happen in about a week. Be ready to stretch."

He spent the rest of class going over various Craft abilities, which definitely opened Jared's mind to how big his universe had just become. Things he didn't even know about, like people who could start fires with their minds, or people who could levitate objects. Professor Morgan asked everyone in the class to stand up, introduce themselves, and announce their abilities. Several were "repeat" abilities, though it was emphasized that as each human had varying degrees of ability with their own senses, Craft was much the same.

Like Chad, other people were telepaths, so at some point they were going to learn to all talk together and broadcast their own thoughts if they were able. Kristin was the only Seeker in the class, as Jared was the only full Empath. There were partial Empaths, and he hoped that there wasn't any weird Craft jealousy going around. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if the person next to him had a stronger, better ability than he did.

Beyond the abilities he’d expected, there were students who were able to manipulate the world in ways Jared hadn’t imagined. One student could turn any liquid into water, and Jesus Christ jokes aside, Jared thought that ability was really cool.

By the time class ended and he'd stepped out the door, Chad just a few feet behind, his head felt so full he thought it might pop. "Is it going to be like this every day?" Jared groaned, turning his face into the sunlight, trying to soak in a little calm and relaxation, or whatever.

"Dude." Chad's eyes were excited and wide when Jared glanced at him. "Think how tired we're gonna be when our mentors get here and we're practicing for two hours straight. Our friends are going to think we all caught Mono or something, with how much we'll be sleeping."

"That is not helping my enthusiasm, Chad." Jared steered them toward the student center as they talked, intent on getting a coffee or a burrito or something.

"At least Professor Morgan answered your question about Jensen. Dude, imagine not being, like, sensitive. That would drive me crazy."

Jared had to stifle a grin at Chad's naivety. "How do you go crazy if you don't know what you're missing?"

"I dunno, I'd get laid a lot less often. Like, that girl right there? She's totally digging you. Her friend digs me. If I didn't know these things, how could I set up excellent flirting opportunities?"

Standing inside the student center, directly where Chad pointed, were Sandy and another dark-haired girl who was just as beautiful. Sandy raised one arm hesitantly, but as she realized that it was Jared and not some other tall guy who simply looked like him, she gave an excited wave, then dragged her friend over, a huge smile plastered on her face.

"You know them?" Chad's voice was filled with a little awe.

"One of them," Jared managed to reply as Sandy arrived within earshot.

"Dude," Chad breathed, and launched into conversation with the girls, almost as if Jared wasn't there. He didn't mind, since he wasn't quite sure of Sandy's intentions. The flirt-o-meter from her friend, who he was pretty sure was also a freshman, was raring at an all time high.

Chad took a moment to breathe, and Sandy cut in. "Hey, Jared! I thought that was you. This is my friend Sophia." She pushed Sophia not-so-subtly toward Chad, who took the opportunity to give Sophia's hand an emphatic shake and immediately start in to ask about what she thought of her classes.

Jared had just a moment to marvel at how easily they both took the obvious hookup before Sandy claimed his ear to tell him the ideas she'd already had about their group project. They set up a date to meet in his room on Thursday evening, both coming equipped to talk about the project. Despite still feeling the flirty emotions coming from Sandy, Jared found himself enjoying speaking with her more and more.

Before he knew it, a few hours had passed and his stomach was growling, the after class burrito forgotten under Sandy's conversational onslaught. They all decided to eat together in the dining hall, and, as Jared's luck would have it, ran into Jensen as they were sitting down.

Jared couldn't help but notice the emotional flares of those around him in response to Jensen's presence. Chad felt wary and frustrated, while both Sandy and Sophia were impressed with his looks, at the very least. Now that Jared knew Jensen was a Null, he felt hyper-aware of the other man's presence, his quick smile, and piercing green eyes that most likely had every person at the table trying to meet his gaze. Or Jared could have been projecting.

He and Jensen ended up talking about what it was like to go into a major that would teach them to care for others, either mentally or physically. Jensen was animated as he spoke, clearly excited to be going into physical therapy. Not only was he anticipating his future, but was also interested in the basic coursework, which impressed Jared quite a bit. He found himself questioning Jensen in-depth about what had drawn him into the field (a busted knee in high school and the desire to continue working near sports), and where he wanted to practice once he graduated (Jensen didn't know). Jared found he could easily relate with Jensen’s desire to help people heal, despite not needing physical help himself.

"So, have you started any of your psychology classes yet?"

"Just basic psychology, and I think it's going to be killer." Jared grinned. "We've had one class so far and I think I took ten pages of notes. I don't know how I'm going to study for the tests."

"Show up every day,” Jensen advised. “Don't they say that you'll get a minimum of a C if you're there and listening?"

"I think so." Jared pulled his dessert over - a brownie - and began to eat it with relish. Jensen's eyebrow quirked up, amused. "Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Jared took another big bite.

"Suuuure." Jensen leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. "Any idea what kind of psychology you like? Laboratory? Clinical? Fuzzy-wuzzy-hugging?"

"Shut up. I don't know. I like hugging."

Jared's phone buzzed, startling him, and he looked down to see who it was. Still there? – Chad. He looked around, realizing that he and Jensen were the only two left at the table, and there was a lone worker walking around spraying the other tables with disinfectant. The August sun was setting, and Jared knew that they'd been there for at least a few hours. The whole day, his second day, was almost another wash for getting work done. He still didn't mind.

"Shoot, we should get out of here."

Jensen glanced at his watched and shot a startled look at Jared. "Dude, it's almost eight thirty. Dang." They bussed their dishes and hurried back to the room.

Jared felt conflicted. On one hand, he was pleased that he and Jensen seemed to be bonding so well, despite Jared's deficiency where reading Jensen was concerned. On the other hand, Chad, Sandy, and Sophia had all left without him noticing, and he was worried that when he saw Sandy on Thursday, she'd be hurt he hadn't been giving her more attention. This was why he couldn't stand women. Men pretty much said it like it was, and if they didn't, they punched you instead. Jared could deal with punching.

The room was better set up than it had been that morning. Clearly, Jensen had given it a lot of work during the day. There was a corkboard up with photos of Jensen hanging out with a group of guys who looked to be his age, and Jared found himself examining the photos one by one.

"My friends," Jensen said. He'd come to stand by Jared's side. "The guy with the longer hair? That's Chris. He's a music major working on his Master's degree here at the school of music. That guy is Mike. He's a pretty wild character, and I'm not sure I should introduce you two. You wouldn't be safe once he found out you were a freshman."

"Doesn't like freshman?"

"Nah, likes 'em too much. He'll be taking you out to all the bars, making you a fake ID, and you'll be kicked out of school before you have time to blink."

"Sounds fun."

Jensen smirked. "Then you couldn't hang with those cute gals you brought to the dining hall."

Jared's stomach gave a little twist. He knew the chances Jensen was gay, interested, and bold enough to make an advance were at about a snowball's chance in Hell, but he'd kind of hoped. Was this a confirmation in the other direction?

"Eh." He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

"Not interested?"

"Not my type, really."

"You like the bookish ones better?"

Jared eyed over Jensen's shoulder, seeing his textbooks piled on his bed, one open as if Jensen had been studying after his morning classes. "Yeah, I really, really do."

"Not me. I prefer mine a little more...animated."

The Texas accent came through heavily as Jensen spoke, and Jared's response came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. "I'll keep that in mind."

Then, almost on autopilot, he meandered toward his desk and sat down to study, freaked out and a little concerned that he was the only one who felt like that conversation had been one big flirt tactic. Jensen chuckled behind him, and Jared had to resist the urge to knock his forehead on the table, because could he get any geekier?

_____

Wednesday came and went, and Jared hardly saw Jensen at all. The senior was always gone when Jared woke up, despite being a self-confessed late night person. Apparently Physical Therapy classes were only taught in the early hours of the day. Jared himself was caught up his Craft class, where Professor Morgan gave a lecture on ethics in Craft.

Jared badly wanted to delve into his fear of invading others’ emotions. Was it akin to rape? Was there some kind of line he needed to watch? He had no idea where his choice started and another person’s ended.

Professor Morgan asked them all to think of something non-Craft to relate their abilities to, and the only thing that Jared could think of was ”First, do no harm.” The class focused on discussing everyone’s ideas, but time ran out before they got around to Jared. He was alternately relieved and curious, feeling that it was weird to relate his gift to not only the Hippocratic Oath, but also to rape. The former made him feel like he was saying his gift could heal people, which wasn’t really the case; the latter made him feel like a sleaze.

Although Professor Morgan had said the students could talk to him at any time, Jared wasn’t ready to come forward with his concerns. They seemed so drastic, yet he couldn’t stop worrying that he was somehow invading other people’s consent. Ever since he’d realized how his Empathy felt, he couldn’t turn it off. How did he approach a situation where he constantly invaded everyone’s emotions?

Tired and frustrated, he ended up hanging with Chad, who reassured him that the girls weren't angry, just amused at how exclusive Jared and Jensen had been in their conversation. It was a good tactic to take his mind away from his worries.

By the time Jared came back to the room, Jensen's lights were out, and the little reading lamp on Jared's desk was the only thing to guide him around the room to get ready for bed. Still no studying, and Jared knew his mom would really kill him if she knew.

Sandy's emotional state was happy when Jared met her in class on Thursday, and he was glad to see that Chad's version of the truth was the truth. The guy was pretty stand-up, but Jared was quickly learning that Chad's world differed on some basic principles from his own.

"Glad to see you survived the serious conversation." She moved her papers away from the seat she'd clearly been saving for Jared, and he sat down, grateful she'd thought of it. The class was filling quickly, and as much as Jared disliked sitting so close to the front, he hated being in back even more.

"It wasn't serious, just fun! I'm sorry to have been so engrossed I didn't see you go. That sucked of me."

"Jared, it's no problem." Her affection for him came through quite clearly. "If you're as dedicated for the project, I'm gonna be tickled pink. And speaking of pink, I have a favor to ask you which I hope isn't too presumptuous."

"Ok, shoot."

"So. Sophia and I are going to Rush for sororities, and I was wondering if you kinda maybe a little could be my escort to a couple of events in a few weeks, and see if Chad would escort Sophia? She really, really liked him, and you're an awesome guy, and I haven't met a lot of guys yet who want to do more than play Frisbee in the Quad, and, well, yeah." A blush rose in her cheeks.

Jared laughed, nodding. "Sure, it's no problem. You're funny. Do you need me to carry a big stick? Fight off the evil fraternity boys?"

"And a Mag light."

He gave her a serious face. "Yes, ma'am."

Class got going, and Jared was feeling really good about Sandy's not minding about his conversation with Jensen. That was when he realized he'd agreed to be her escort. As in date.

_____

"I'm Sandy's accidental date this weekend to some Rush events." Jared pitched his backpack onto the floor and flopped down face-first onto his bed. The bed, an extra long, was barely tall enough to accommodate Jared's height, but at this moment he couldn't bring himself to care. All he wanted to do was bury himself underneath his covers.

"How do you become someone's accidental date? Did you run into her with your accidental pickup line?"

Jared cracked an eye open and shot Jensen what he hoped was his meanest look, though he had an inkling that he just looked stupid in his facedown position.

"Dude," he said, most of his words getting lot in the mattress, "it just seemed like a nice thing to do, to help her out, and then suddenly I realized I was trapped. Trapped!"

"So tell her something came up. That you've got a dorm thing you can't miss."

"No, then I'll be a big douche bag, and she doesn't deserve that. She’s totally my friend now. She compared me to evil frat guys and everything, and if I cut out on her I might as well be one of them."

"First of all, not all frat guys are evil, so you need to chill out on that, and second, maybe you'll find you like her more than you think you do, and it'll be happily ever after." Jensen tapped his pencil against his teeth, eraser first, and Jared went gooey inside from how much he liked this guy. Sure, they'd only been roommates for less than a week, and Jared couldn't read Jensen at all, but he just felt like they clicked. He also couldn’t help it if he wanted them to click, naked.

"I know they’re not all bad, but even then, I’m not gonna change my mind about her." He put his face back down against the mattress and just lay there listening to Jensen scribble away at notes or reading, and then he was hiding.

The field all around him was filled with tall grass which blew gently in the night breeze. While the atmosphere should have been peaceful, all Jared could feel was terror that he'd be found.

He looked up to see what he was hiding behind, and it was a clock. Not just a clock, but monstrosity of one, a clock that went up and up, towering over the land like a terrible king, hands pointed out in dominion over his subjects. Jared stumbled back, trying to get a better look at it.

The clock was made of mahogany, smooth and sculpted like it had been carved from butter. It stood probably fifty feet tall, and he suddenly realized that it was a horrible hiding position, that all of the King's subjects would know that Jared was at the Clock, and it was the biggest landmark for miles. He squinted, trying to read the hands, to see where the Clock that was a King was pointing, but as his vision cleared and the clock hands came into focus, Jensen slapped the back of his head and said, "Yo, dude, dinner."

Jared roused, wiping away a big wet patch on his cheek, then sat up, aware he probably had his comforter imprinted on his face. "Kay." He stumbled after Jensen into the dining hall, collected his mound of food, and found that the two of them were the only ones around that evening. He recalled that Chad had a study session ("I can't believe I have test in week one. Week one!") and the girls were probably eating in their own dorms.

It was kind of weird. He and Jensen spent all this time alone in their room together, but their interaction was purely on a school-related basis. Jensen had gone out several nights to hang with his older friends, which Jared didn't mind at all - he liked a little time to himself in the room. They spent most of their time discussing schoolwork and teachers. But now, seated together in the dining hall, just the two of them, Jared felt himself clam up.

He focused on his chicken pot pie and tried to think of something smart to say that wasn't school-related.

“You seem pretty quiet,” Jensen remarked as he stabbed a piece of cauliflower with his fork.

Jared shrugged. “Not so chatty tonight. Just groggy from the nap, I think.” He tried to forget about the dream and be better company, but the feeling of being found by some danger stuck with him.

Chapter Three | Master Post

If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It - Chapter One

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:36:11 GMT

Part One - Chapter One

"Craft," said the tall man at the head of the lecture hall, "is what makes this world tick. You're here because you have decided to cast aside the regular world and learn about something most people believe to be falsehoods, trickery, and lies. The reason most people believe it to be trickery is because they don't have the potential to see the truth." He glanced around the hall. "Most of them don't have a relative, who, at some point or another, clued them in to the separate world. They didn't have experiences as children that made them wonder if there was more to life than sports, television, or shopping. Nobody they loved ever came back from the dead, they never woke up floating a foot above their bed, or spoke to an animal like it knew the words of humans.

"You are here to learn about this world. And I'll see you every day for two hours.

"If you didn't receive a copy of the syllabus going around, my name is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and for two hours, five days a week, you're going to forget that there aren't any other people you can tell about this world, that the next class you go to will be about the American Revolution, and that they're never going to tell you that at least one battle was won with the aid of a telepath. The rest of the world outside this class is almost real. I'm never going to tell you that you can pay your bills with Craft. You can't. You can't work a job that pays you to be fantastic. This isn't The Dresden Files or Harry Potter or even Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. This is real magic and the only thing it's going to give most of you is a pile of trouble.

"So why are you here? You want to know more. Maybe you had a class growing up, one your parents or your sponsor found. You were able to practice your abilities a few times a week. Maybe you could practice them at home. Most of you have been waiting for this, though. You were able to see the class title in the syllabus not because we're some awesome force of wonder, or because we're magic all the way to the top of this school. You saw it because you had potential.

“A lot of this stuff can get passed down through families and from grandparents to grandchildren. Consider this course your way to get a more social view of Craft. So many times we Warlocks and Witches live out our lives meeting only a few other practitioners, and I’m someone who wants to help change that.

"Everyone outside of this room thinks that you're in here to learn about magical realism in literature. Roll with that. It's as close to the truth as you can get. I’m paid most of the time to actually teach about the stuff and it’s what I studied for my own graduate degree.

"Ok, I'm getting tired of hearing my own voice. Introduce yourself to the people next to you and let's meet the future of Warlocks and Witches."

Professor Morgan fell silent, and Jared sat back in his chair, not having realized that he'd leaned so far forward in his seat. This was it. He hadn't expected the University of Colorado at Boulder to teach Craft, but here he was. Finally.

"I think he was lying when he said he was tired of his own voice." The blonde guy next to Jared leaned over, whispering. "I have never heard someone wax that long before about anything at the start of a class."

Jared grinned. He was so ready for this. "Jared Padalecki," he said, and shook the guy's hand. Jared had a good sense about people - maybe Craft driven, maybe not - and he could tell that this guy was a bit crazy, but solid.

"Chad Murray. Also known as Captain Awesome, but Chad’s fine too" They shared a smile.

"Is this your first year?" Jared asked. Chad seemed to fit the Boulder dynamic that Jared had observed during his time here. Well-to-do, preppy while trying to look shabby, but also interested in the coursework. He wore jeans and a beat-up shirt, but they were expensive clothes, that much Jared could tell. Chad's shoes probably cost more than Jared's bicycle.

Jared felt a little scruffy next to Chad. His family had never struggled, but as Texas ranchers their focus had never been on what kind of jeans a man wore, just that the jeans fit the purpose. Jared wore a sold blue tee shirt that was probably a bit thin, jeans, and a pair of brown cowboy boots that he couldn't bear to give up, even if he'd had them since he was a sophomore in high school - and they looked just as old. For as much of a "cowboy" reputation as Colorado had, Jared had seen startlingly few of them.

"Pretty much. I transferred in about halfway through last semester, so I knew this class was here, but couldn't even enter the stupid room once class was in session. It was like one continual cock block for ten weeks." Chad snorted. "I feel dumb cuz I'm behind, but my grandma - that's who tipped me off to the fact that it wasn't completely normal for me to read other people's thoughts - told me that once I was able to pinpoint exactly what my strengths were, I'd catch up in no time."

"Nice," Jared said. He'd never met a telepath before. He hadn't met a lot of people before.

Chad jerked his head at Jared. "What's your story? New here?"

"Just been here a couple of days getting my dorm room all set up. I haven't even met my roommate yet. I think he was supposed to be moving in today.."

"That sucks. I’d find a way to get my stuff in before the start of school, but that's just me. Is he a Craft user?”

"I dunno.” Jared shrugged. “I'm a bit frightened considering I think he's completely normal. How do you hide this stuff from someone not in the know?"

Chad's eyebrow quirked up. "You don't have any latent talent issues?"

"I don't know what you mean,” Jared said.

“You know, like your Craft springing out at exactly the wrong moment and suddenly you know exactly what your uncle did to your aunt in bed the night before—.” Chad broke off, face reddening. “That kind of stuff.”

“Not really. I was looking through the course catalog online and this stuck out at me in neon lettering. Literally. It made so much sense, I signed up right away. I thought it was going to be a hoax, but a couple of weeks before I left, my mom pulled me aside and told me that I have these things I can do. I just don't specifically know what they are. Apparently she’s got some kind of latent green thumb kind of talent, and I’d spent my entire childhood thinking it was normal to have the kind of garden she did."

"You seem to be taking it pretty well for a guy who's been a regular human all his life."

Jared sighed. "Don't you ever have that feeling that you know you're meant for something more? I mean, I know everyone on earth has that at one point or another. But, I just - things didn't always seem to go from A to B to C. I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Hey!" The girl on Jared's right, a shorter blonde with bright blue eyes and a quick smile, leaned over and jumped into the conversation. "I think most of us know exactly what you mean. For years my mom couldn't figure out how I always could find anything she hid, even if it was in someone else's house. Or her car. Whatever. I finally got to the point where I stopped looking for things and telling her about it, but it never stopped me from knowing. Seeing the ad for this class was like a godsend."

"Didn't that make it boring for Christmas, --" Jared hesitated, waiting for her name.

"Kristen Bell. And no. The fun part for me was always figuring out where everything was stashed. I mean, if I didn't know to look for it I wouldn't find it, but for upcoming holidays? Totally easy."

"Professor Morgan says we can't make money from our Craft, but it totally seems like you could be bankable. Find lost kids, wallets, missing whatever." Chad's eyes were already filling with dollar bills, but Kristin shook her head.

"I dunno, I'm not interested in living my life like a Mrs. Cleo, trying to convince everyone that I'm the real deal. I'd rather help out friends and family and do an actual job, y'know? Right now I’m thinking of doing criminal psychology."

"What are you studying?" Jared asked Chad.

"I’m not sure yet." Chad grinned. "I'm taking a bunch of science classes. I'll probably end up doing some kind of engineering." At seeing Jared’s expression, he laughed. "It's not that hard."

Jared chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“What about you?” Chad asked.

"Psych," Jared said. “I’ve always had this affinity for understanding people, or at least knowing where they’re coming from, so it seemed pretty natural.

They chatted a while longer and met several others around them, but Jared didn't get quite the same kind of belonging from those people as he did from Chad and Kristen. After hearing about their unique abilities, he was getting more prepared to accept the fact that he'd chosen to sit by them not out of random chance, but because his possible Craft was doing what was completely natural for Jared - seeking out the people that made him happiest.

"Back to me!" Professor Morgan called. The class took a minute to quiet, but returned front and center when he called out again.

"Great," he said, and leaned back against the wooden desk. "While you were talking I was doing a bit of learning of my own. My Craft, as you'd call it - you'll discover we Warlocks and Witches confuse ourselves constantly by referring to both our own talents and the ability to perform magic as 'Craft,' which leads to quite a few misunderstandings - is to discover the abilities of others. It's why I teach. I get as much face to face time with people as possible and help set you on your way.

"There are other teachers here who will take over more and more often as the semester goes on. We bill them as guest speakers. You'll also have to do some reading from actual magical realism books so I have work to show for this time, and I know that's extra work for a lot of you, but it's completely worth it considering there are Warlocks and Witches out there that never receive formal training.

"You may feel a bit like lab rats at the end of today, but I encourage you to come spend some time talking to me. It's not going to give me all the answers, but the more time I spend in your presence, the more attuned I get. We have another hour and half left in class, and there are sixty of you. That's definitely not enough time to talk to every single person and give you a direction, so I'd like to start with the people who have a class coming up after this. The rest of you, if you don't mind, hang around and we'll go over as late as we can. I'm free until four pm, two hours after this class ends.

"Can anyone wait?" Several people, including Jared, raised their hands. Jared, being a morning person, had already been to his two other classes today, a history class about World War II and Psych 101. Professor Morgan wrote them down and turned to the rest of the class. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Time passed. Sixty students whittled down to thirty fairly quickly as the students who already had an idea about their Craft checked in with Professor Morgan and went on their way. Jared had moved to an aisle seat once Chad and Kristen were gone, giving his long legs a place to go other than to knee the chair in front of him. He hadn't thought to bring anything to entertain himself with, so he settled into reading Like Water For Chocolate, the first book on the magical realism list.

He'd been surprised at first that more students weren't chatting, but had quickly realized that everyone left in the room was anxious about what they'd learn today. He felt pretty keyed up about it too, but after seeing the way Chad and Kristen seemed so happy to know who they were, he'd been able to put a bit of perspective on the situation.

"Pada..." Professor Morgan hesitated over his name.

"Lecki," Jared said, rising to his feet. His stomach flip-flopped and he automatically removed the cap he wore and stuffed it into his backpack. He'd learned early on that important things required no hats. He jogged down the steps to the bottom of the lecture hall and sat down in a plastic chair that was almost too short for his legs. Professor Morgan looked younger up close, he decided, despite the fact that the man's slight stubble was peppered with a bit of gray.

"Hi," he said, and smiled.

Professor Morgan regarded him just a moment, then scribbled something down on a piece of paper with Jared's name at the top. "Good to meet you too, Mister Padalecki. Sorry about the name confusion. I do better with Smiths and Joneses." He examined Jared again, and wrote a bit more.

"Ever had anyone tell you about your Craft, Jared?" Professor Morgan's voice was deep and commanding, but there was a warmth Jared really appreciated. He hated it when teachers were intimidating from the start.

"No, sir. I always kinda knew I was a bit different, but my mother just confirmed it a few weeks ago and I've been hoping to talk to someone about it ever since. I've been terribly nervous, so getting here was just a great chance--" He stopped as Professor Morgan held up his hand, palm toward Jared. Jared would have been worried, but Professor Morgan was grinning.

"It's ok, Jared. I know you're nervous. You're an interesting fellow, did you know?"

"I, uh. No?" Another thought occurred to him. "Are you having trouble reading me? Should I sit differently? Open myself up? Is this some type of aura thing? Do I need to feel my chakra? Should I try and project?"

Professor Morgan chuckled. "No, you're good. I've known what you were since you walked into the room." He set down his pen and leaned back into his chair.

"What? You did? I mean - what am I?"

"You're a full Empath." At Jared's questioning expression, he continued. "It means that instead of having one half of the Empath gift - either Receptive or Expressive, i.e., with one you receive emotions and intentions and the other you can give them - you've got both parts. I've only met one other person that had the full Empath Craft, and it's something that I'm never going to forget. You probably make friends easily, fall in with the 'right' crowd at school, and find that you can clear up a tense situation with little difficulty. It's a pretty powerful Craft."

Jared thought back to situations where he found talking to people to be easy, to making friends, but he couldn't really pinpoint a special trick he had. "How do you know I have this? Aren't some people just good with other people?"

"In some cases, yes. I'm sure you have a fair amount of learned instinct. It comes naturally from your unique Craft. Jared, don't look at this like you're cheating or somehow 'less' of a person for having this assist you. Some people have great eyesight. Some are physically amazing. You happen to have a sixth sense that gives you a leg up on people and situations. It's a blessing. Now, I'm running a bit short on time and I hate to cut off our conversation, but I promise that I'll give you some guidance in our next class about how your Craft works. I know of at least a partial Empath who lives in Denver who maybe of some help.

"You're probably used to using the ability in a latent manner, so the best I can say is this. Examine the people you meet. Are you feeling an emotion you're projecting on them, or when you see them do you get a sense of who they are by instinct? It's not going to be easy, but it really may stretch you."

Professor Morgan turned his attention back to the paper with Jared's name on it, so Jared took that as a dismissal, packed up his stuff, and headed to his dorm room. He had some actual homework on his first day of college, given in his two previous classes, but he was glad for it. The way his head spun with information distracted him from trying to use his Craft to get a sense of people.

Jared couldn’t help but wonder how being an Empath had affected him all these years. It was kind of freaky to consider that he had pushed people into liking him without knowing what he had done, and his stomach roiled at the thought. Was a gift like his something akin to rape? Could he force others to feel things they didn’t want to feel and not even know their emotions were false?

He thought back to his childhood friendships, how he’d bonded with friends over silly games of Slip n’ Slide in his back yard, and mutual interest in the frogs that lived in the pond down by his elementary school. Nobody had ever resisted friendship, and Jared had never felt like he’d won a friendship with persistence.

From what he understood, violating someone mentally required him to not take their needs into account, just as with a physical violation, and his friendships had always seemed mutually enjoyed. No, he wasn’t that type of person. He couldn’t be.

With that thought in mind, Jared forced himself to sit down in the courtyard outside of the building and watch the students pass by.

Everything seemed so...regular. It was a typical sunny day in Colorado. Co-eds, geeks, jocks, and students of all sorts came by in groups, solo, and on bicycles. Jared couldn't pinpoint a specific emotion from any one of them, and started to think his time in the courtyard was an exercise in wishful thinking. It was kind of a letdown, that he'd just know how to use his Craft now that it had been diagnosed wasn’t true.

He headed back to tackle his homework, give his mind something else to do. He was in Baker Hall on the second floor. Chad was apparently two floors below him in the basement, which Jared would have abhorred, but Chad said he really liked. Jared was simply pleased that he lived so close to his new friend.

On his way into the dorm, he stopped at the mail area, got a letter from his mom filled with gift cards to local restaurants, and thundered his way up to the second floor.

It was the new white board on the door that stopped him. It hadn't been there when he'd left this morning - only his, which was stuck to the right hand side of the door with a marker hanging on to it by a length of green yarn. This new one was identically placed next to his on the left hand side, and written across it in small capital letters was a name.

Jensen.

Jared's whiteboard already had some crazy messages on it, including a phone number for a girl Jared couldn't remember. She was barking up the wrong tree, but he appreciated her attempt. He'd simply scrawled -Jay- across the top, and where his name was hastily written, Jensen's was nearly font-perfect. He sucked in a breath. Okay.

Figuring that the door was unlocked if Jensen was inside, Jared twisted the knob and stepped into the biggest surprise of his life.

Chapter Two | Master Post

4.22 thought

Tue, 19 May 2009 04:29:53 GMT

One thought regarding SPN 4.22:

Did anyone find Sam and Dean killing Ruby together vaguely threesomeish? I COULDN'T STOP THINKING IT, AND I DON'T EVEN SHIP RUBY. Normally I don't wear a tin hat during the actual episodes, but the visual struck me in such a strong manner. Hm.

Or it could be that I spent 4 hours tonight pleating fabric, and I've gone bibbildy.

Wed, 29 Apr 2009 20:24:46 GMT

Today on my way to my dentist appointment I passed a business named Jensen's Flowers. It's the little things.

Also, Big Bang is on course to be done on time. Hopefully it's not boring. O_o

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

Writing

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 08:07:21 GMT

Bigbang total so far: 8642

Rah.

Lame post is lame.

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 07:29:31 GMT

Rah ha ha, new layout. I'm not sure if I like the photos I put in it, but I can always swap them out for others. Now to finish that damn fanfic and get a-crackin!!

Yeah...no.

Fri, 12 Dec 2008 05:37:19 GMT

I'm sorry, but if you use the words "vampire bride" in a fanfic while writing about a slash couple, I'm going to have to stop reading. That's just sad.

You also lose points for:

-you're/your confusion

-past/present tense issues

-anyone in a slash fic saying "angel" in reference to another man

Sigh.

staying up late

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 18:14:27 GMT

I have really got to stop reading J2 fics until 1 in the morning. 6am comes way too fast. 0.o

I am also going to endeavor to write tonight, in addition to working on my dress for the company holiday party. I have way too many creative endeavors to accomplish, and not enough time away from work in which to accomplish them.

On Writing

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 20:21:45 GMT

You know you're writing fic with a high fantasy content when Microsoft Word tries to call shenanigans on at least one word in every paragraph and you just have to ignore it, since, quite obviously, Bill Gates did not understand the finer workings of djinn and other creepy crawlies.

I want to write more.

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 06:39:41 GMT

So. I want to post more fiction, but I find that I hate posting incomplete stories in case they never take off. I've been working on a Supernatural fic that I hope does not suck in massive amounts. It's been so long since I've written anything like this. I seem to have a hard time following more than one passion, and with cosplay taking up so much of my time (plus friends, family, and the poodle that gave me my username), I'm glad to write a few paragraphs a night.

I remember back in college when I wrote every night. It was easy. My roommate would go to sleep and I'd turn on my little desk lamp, put on some inspiring music, and for the next hour or more I would write and write until I knew it was finally time to go to bed. I miss it, but I have so many more things now.

I hate how empty this journal is and I don't want it to stay that way. So I'm going to keep working on this fic - love it or hate it - and hope that it comes to a brilliant conclusion. In a few thousand or so more words. Or perhaps a few TEN thousand or so more words. Because what's a story by me without a plot to accompany?

Oh yeah, nobody knows, as nobody reads this journal yet. I could post some OLD fic here, I guess, but I'm not ready to jump back into those fandoms. And besides. That stuff was written over 5 years ago.

Makes me feel old.

Oh so fannish

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 01:01:22 GMT

I feel kind of lame posting to a journal that nobody reads, but I just don't want to clutter up my regular journal with all the fandom crap. So. Seasons of Stargate for sale at Costco for $20 a piece. How fucking cool is that?

I'm Just a Teenager

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 08:09:15 GMT

Fandom: Sarah Connor Chronicles
Rating: PG
Characters: John + Cameron

I'm a teenager. Most days that's all I want to be. I don't want to have to be a hero, a savior, an anything that Cameron tells me I am. Sometimes I lie in bed at night and stare at the posters on my ceiling of bands I don't yet quite know and dream about how tomorrow is just another day of school.

Mom will come in my room and shake me awake. I'll roll over and go back to sleep because that's what teenagers do. Then, a day will go by where I drift from class to class, making jokes with my friends, checking out the hot girls, and not once have to contemplate the easiest exit route from my classrooms.

After just a few days of school I already know how to get out of all my classes. Which windows are most likely to be open. How far they are from the ground. Which classrooms have two doorways. I always sit close to the window if possible. It makes my chance of escape so much easier.

"John." Cameron comes into the kitchen. She's holding a schoolbook, walking towards me and not even looking where she's going. Yet she doesn't bump her hip on the counter or jar her elbow into the refrigerator's handle. Watching her maneuver is like watching someone dance.

"What?" I'm glad for the distraction. Going from daydreams of regular life to soaring out windows - not always the best way to remain calm about your life. Except if you're Mom. Only if you're mom.

"I don't understand." She places the book down on the wooden table in the kitchen's center. Inside isn't what I expected. Not a mathematical equation (which she wouldn't have come to me with anyway) or a poem (that I know by now she most definitely doesn't understand). Instead, loosely tucked between the pages, is a piece of paper. It's folded in half and obviously came out of someone's notes binder. Whoever it was didn't bother to tear the ragged edges off the paper.

"I found it in my book," she explains.

I take the paper out of the book and unfold it. The handwriting inside is bold, dark, very masculine. It reads -

Come with me to the Winter Formal. Flowers next week. You're beautiful."

I feel a smile creep across my face. "Someone's got a crush on you!" I say in a sing-song voice. Cameron cocks her head.

"I don't understand."

"You know. A guy thinks you're cute. He wants to take you on a date."

"I see." It's clear that she doesn't. I sigh and try to think of a better way to explain. I'm afraid that if I get too broad she'll get tied up in the large picture - mating and pheromones and all of that. Does she even have pheromones?

Different tactic. I take her arm and have her sit down next to me. "You know that people love, right?"

"Yes. Love: A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend. A sexual passion or desire. Sexual inter-"

"Wait, wait!" I cut in. "Enough with the definitions!" I run my hand through my hair. It needs a cut. "That's technically what it is, but what I'm trying to explain is that through crushes is how we get to love." Nice work on the 'not taking the broad route,' John. "What I'm trying to say is that whoever this is thinks for some reason that you look good and being around you makes him feel good, so he wants to spend more time with you by taking you out to get to know you better."

Cameron analyzes this information. "I see. Should I date him?"

"Whoa." I put my hands out in front of me. "That's up to you. I'm not sure what to say. Either Mom would support this because you would fit in or she'd hate it because you'd stand out. Besides, if you're out on a date how can you protect me?"

A stab of guilt goes through my body and I have to remind myself that she doesn't have feelings. However, I do, and I try to push aside my vague sensation of jealousy. Who cares if she goes on a date? I can be alone in my own house.

"You're right. I will ask Sarah Connor." Cameron climbs to her feet and begins to leave the kitchen, then turns back around. "What did I do to make him like me?"

I shrug. "You didn't do anything. Sometimes you don't have a choice in where you end up."

Cameron blinks at me and leaves.

I laugh at myself a little. Here I am, sitting in the kitchen and bellyaching over my troubles and my supposed destiny, and I have the answer all long. It takes a Terminator to protect me, but sometimes it takes a Terminator to teach me.

I may want to be normal, but I'm not. I don't have a choice to end up where I am now, so it's a fate I must accept. But like a date, it's also something I can choose to change or direct. I'm not a victim. I'm a leader.