![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: King Nothing
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rose_the_hat
Pairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count 31,000-ish
Summary: In which Jensen is a powerful mob boss who has been kidnapped and Jared is his Enforcer willing to do anything to get him back
Warnings:allusions to past molestation and prostitution; graphic torture; blink-and-you-miss-it bottom Jared; PTSD
Notes:This is a companion piece to The Power Behind The Throne from Jared's POV. Yes, you do need to read/have read that to understand this.
I never planned on writing from Jared’s POV, so any inconsistencies you may notice from the previous story and this one, just chalk them up to me doing a little retconning or Jared being an unreliable narrator.
Huge thanks tojdl71 for doing the beta and being an awesome cheerleader and support even when I kept sending her the same parts multiple times to read.
Fic title and chapter titles are all Metallica songs.
4 - Hero of the Day
Keeping Peter’s words in mind about what Jensen would think if he knew Jared was abusing himself, Jared ceases taking the occasional pinch of coke and sticks to coffee. It’s a poor substitute but Pete is right. Jensen wouldn’t want Jared to kill himself. If Jared were to accidentally OD it would probably be a death sentence for Jensen as well. He’s irritable and twitchy, realizes he’s probably suffering some minor withdrawal symptoms even if he hasn’t been using much or long. Fuck it. If he has to go to rehab and detox he will, after Jensen is safe and sound. His guys are out running down leads, the way they have been over the last week and a half. Pete is beside him, reading what looks to be a letter over and over again. Petey is very old school, disdaining much of technology besides his e-reader. Pete refolds the piece of paper and puts it in back into his jeans pocket.
“You slept yet, Kid?”
“No,” Jared says and rubs his eyes. He sinks back into the chair and sighs. What else can he possibly do to help Jensen?
He and Peter were back at the Compound, in Jensen’s office. Pete had dragged him away from Collins and The Ranch and brought him here to decompress and feel close to Jensen. This is Jensen’s favorite room, other than their bedroom, and Jared cannot bring himself to go up there. Not after that nightmare of Jensen dead and rotting in their bed.
“You?” Jared inquires.
“A bit. On and off, like the other guys. You should take a showah and shave. Might make ya feel bettah. Definitely make ya smell bettah.”
Jared dismisses the suggestion and Pete’s attempt at levity. He’ll feel better when Jensen is with him again. “Petey, do…do you think we’ll find him? Be honest with me.”
“Ya know I’ll always give it to ya straight, Kid. And yeah, I do. I’m not saying that to blow smoke up youah ass or make ya feel bettah. This Collins guy ain’t smaaht. His crew ain’t eithea and they ain’t loyal. He’s made a mistake somewheah and Mr. Ackles’ guys’ll find it.”
Jared’s throat closes up and his eyes begin to sting. He knows Petey is right but it’s just been so long and a person can only endure so much. As it is Jared feels as if he’s at his breaking point. Everything he has done has yielded no results. He had never felt as useless and desperate as he does now. What must Jensen be feeling?
“What if—“
“Thinkin ya ‘what ifs’ ain’t gonna do a damn bit’a good, Jared,” Peter cuts across him. “Only thing that is doin’ foah ya is drivin’ ya closah to the edge, and you aah already dangling one foot ovah it.”
Jared is opening his mouth to speak, to say what he doesn’t know when he stops at the roar of an engine and tires screeching out in the central turn around. He and Pete exchange tense looks.
A moment later Aldis bursts into the office a wide grin on his face. “Mr. Padalecki, sir!”
Jared’s heart leaps into his throat and he feels dizzy. His entire world hangs on what Aldis is about to say. He knows it must be something good or Aldis wouldn’t be smiling. He allows himself to feel a sliver of hope that this nightmare is about to end. “What?”
“We got a possible line on Mr. Ackles’ location. Get this shit. Collins bought an old dude ranch in Alpine. About seven hours from Dallas, near the Davis Mountains. That is some isolated out of the way area.”
Jared’s pushing to his feet before he’s even aware of doing so. A ranch. A ranch? Jesus fucking Christ. Was that asshole trying to imitate Jensen and the Organization? Hadn’t Pileggi explicitly used the word Organization when referring to Collins’ mob of wannabes? It actually makes a lot of sense. Insofar as Jared’s sleep-deprived mind can make sense of anything.
“Anything else you can tell me about it?”
“He’s had some work done on it. Lindberg found some receipts for heavy equipment rentals—augers, excavators, Ditch Witchs, front end loaders.”
“Augahs? Loadahs?” Pete says getting to his feet as well, black brows knitted together in a deep frown of concern. “That’s some diggin’ shit, deep diggin’ shit.”
“That’s where he is,” Jared says, sure of it. Bile rises in his throat and he struggles with his gorge. Dear God, digging equipment. His hand shakes as he extracts his phone from his pocket, the terrifying idea dawning that Misha has buried Jensen alive.
Peter takes the phone from him and fixes him with an understanding gaze. “Youah gonna wanna go off half-cocked on this, Jared. Ya can’t,” he cautions pressing a thumb to Kane’s contact info. “Kane, get the crew togetha. We know wheah Mr. Ackles is.”
Jared slaps Aldis on the shoulder, grips it hard. It’s the only kind of thank you and apology he can offer.
The IC, plus Mad Mike, are back at the Compound in record time. They all wear tense and angry expressions. Those looks become even more wrathful when Jared relays to them the information Aldis gave him. They want their boss, their friend, back every bit as much as Jared wants his lover back.
“That motherfucker,” Kane says, looking ready to chew steel and spit nails.
“Exactly. Aldis says it’s seven hours from Dallas. I want Tommy Blue and Lazy Jase to go on ahead for some reconnaissance. We’ll be behind by a couple of hours. Learn everything you can. Guards, firepower, anything and everything.”
“You got it, Boss,” Jase says.
“I’m not the boss,” Jared states flatly. “We’re going to go get him.”
“Kane, Petey and Stevie Guitar will be with me. And Mike, you too, unless you want to go with Tommy?”
“I’m cool riding with you guys.”
Jared nods. “Doc Morgan is gonna follow us. We don’t know what condition Jensen will be in when we find him; Doc will be there to assess and triage him.” Jared holds out six phones. “Everybody take one. Burners. Aldis and Lindberg have already programmed our contact info into them. He’ll wipe and destroy them after we get Jensen back. Now, let’s arm up and head out.”
“A'oo!” Mike cheers as if he is a Spartan soldier. It almost makes Jared smile.
Jared knows he should take more time to plan a careful and well thought out assault on the building they suspect Jensen is being held captive in, but he just can’t. He doesn’t believe in psychic flashes, premonitions, or other metaphysical shit, but he knows that Jensen is in serious trouble if they don’t get to him soon. Jensen has been gone ten days now. That could possibly be without food or water. They have to act now. Each IC member is armed to the fucking teeth and wearing Kevlar vests. Jared is packing his .357 and his beloved Thompson submachine gun that Jensen gave him for his twenty-fifth birthday. He never felt more like a gangster from the prohibition-era than when Jensen gave it to him.
Given what Jared has gleaned from his men’s interrogations of Collins’ stooges he doesn’t expect much resistance. There is no loyalty in them. Collins neither earned nor inspired it in the men he recruited. So much the better for Jared’s guys. The men who follow Jared are loyal to him and Jensen; years of friendship, trust, and love bind them together.
They decide to take the new Lincoln Navigator. Jared sends Pete into the main house for some blankets and pillows. He folds down the third row of seating, making a kind of bed for Jensen, when they find him. After last minute checks of weapons and ammo they hit the road.
Jared’s leg bounces and he fiddles with the Sirius radio buttons, changing from one station to another hoping to find something to take his mind off things for just a little while. All the stations are Jensen’s favorites. Every song, every artist—Blue Oyster Cult, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Bob fucking Segar—make him think of Jensen and better, happier days. He cannot bear to listen to them with the nightmare scenarios playing in his head. Them finding Jensen only for him to be dead for only minutes prior to their arrival, his gently tanned skin still warm, or they find him and he has been dead for days his beautiful features and body distorted by bloat, rotting from the inside out. Shit like that went though Jared’s head every second of every day that Jensen’s been missing and people expected him to sleep? Idiots. He wants a bump of Coke, but won’t, can’t, do that shit anymore. He doesn’t really need it, knows its working his way out of his system, that’s part of why he’s so irritable and twitchy. He doesn’t miss the way it made his heart beat out of control or how it made his nose run.
“Will you fuckin’ stop, Jared,” Pete snaps, uncharacteristic of him, after Jared punches over to yet another radio station. Night Moves had just started to play.
“Fuck off, Pete!” Jared snarls. “Just drive the damn car!”
They had been on I-20 for an hour and a half when traffic grinds to a halt.
“What the fuck!” Jared explodes, slamming a palm into the dash.
“Must be an accident,” Stevie says sensibly.
“You don’t say,” Jared replies in a viscous snark.
“What crawled up your ass, Jay?” Kane asks.
“You can fuck off, too.”
“Little Boss, you need something to take the edge off?” Mike asks, already reaching into a pocket.
Jared’s nose tingles and the urge to say yes gnaws at him but he won’t. “No,” Jared answers absolute. “What I fucking need is this goddamn traffic to move!”
A tense quiet settles over the SUV as the traffic continues to crawl. Jared really needs teleportation to be a thing. Seriously, they had communicators, PADDs, and other sci-fi Star Trek shit, but not the coolest most useful thing? Fucked up, man. He almost smiles thinking about Star Trek and Jensen being a closet Trekkie. One night after sex Jared had listened to Jensen speculate for three goddamn hours about the Breen. He had still been talking about what could possibly be under the environmental suits the Breen wore as he dropped off to sleep. Jared’s heart clenches at the sweet memory.
The accident, once they get close to it, turns out to be a semi that jackknifed and spilled its load—cases of M&Ms—all over the interstate and people were taking packages of the colorful candies by the armful even as police tried to direct traffic and discourage the looters.
“I could really go for some M&Ms,” Mike says smacking his lips.
Jared rubs his eyes. “I could go for coffee.”
“A-fuckin-gree,” Kane said.
After they pass the accident sight, Pete makes an executive decision, takes the next exit to hit up a Starbucks and orders a dozen coffees. Once they are back on the interstate, and properly caffeinated, Pete speeds like a motherfucker.
Jared’s burner trills and he immediately answers it. “Go.”
“We got eyes on the place, Boss,” Lazy Jase’s usually languid and playful voice was hard and all business.
“You’re there already?” It eased something inside him to know that other IC men were close to Jensen’s location. His man wasn’t entirely alone. Help was there and more was on the way. Jared knew if he ordered them to storm the place where Jensen was, Tommy and Jase wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
“We shagged ass,” Jase replies simply.
Jared grins. He knew they would. “What ya seeing?” Jared asks.
“The dude ranch is set way back off the main road. There is a turn off onto a dirt road that goes for about half a mile that leads up to a gate. There is a perimeter fence and its guarded by a dozen men by our count. We haven’t been here long enough to notice any shift changes. Each guard is dressed in street clothes, appears to not be wearing body armor and are carrying semi automatic rifles. Looks like…Smith & Wesson M&P 15-22s. So not a lot of firepower.”
“Overall impressions?”
“Amateur as fuck, sir,” Jase says. Tommy Blue laughs in the background.
“Keep watch. Relay any important developments back to us. We’ll be there soon as we can.” Jared ends the call.
When at last they rendezvous with Tommy and Jase, Jared is about to come out of his skin knowing Jensen is close, feeling it in his bones, needing to stampede into that ranch house, find and get him into Doc Morgan’s care.
Their rendezvous point is two miles from the mouth of the turn off that leads to the ranch where they suspect—know—Jensen is being held. Lazy Jace and Tommy Blue are waiting for them.
Jared, Pete, Stevie Guitar, Kane and Mad Mike exit the Navigator. “New developments?” Jared immediately asks.
Tommy Blue shakes his head, scrubbing a hand across his face. “These guys are so goddamn unprofessional. I don’t know if it’s laughable or pathetic.” His handsome features twist in distaste. “There is a big guy, looks as big as Big Pete, and he’s supposed to be standing guard at the entrance to the ranch house itself. He’s there by the door alright, playing on his fucking phone.”
The other members of the IC all make noises of disbelieve and disgust. Jared absorbs the information. It’s no more or less than he’d expected. Low level thugs wanting some kind of power and buying into whatever shit Collins was selling them.
“Sheeeit,” Lazy Jase drawls. “The guards by the gate are fucking sittin’ down, one looks to be asleep. The other guards stationed around the fence and the house itself are all doin’ similar shit.”
“How many totahl?” Pete asks.
“Fourteen.”
They all turn, drawing their weapons when they hear the crunch of tires on dry earth and the approach of an engine. It is only Doc Morgan in his cherry red Caddy. He kills the engine and climbs out of the car, approaching them with a loose-limbed gait. He greets them with a nod, .45 tucked into the waistband of his black slacks. Jared has a new respect for the doc after he fearlessly plucked the scalpel from Jared’s fist that he had been holding to Morgan’s throat. That man was a badass and capable and he would do everything to care for Jensen.
They holster their weapons and return to their conversation. Jared is fucking done. “They are unprepared for any kind of attack. We move in now, and hit ‘em with everything.”
Kane is nodding. “Agreed. We go in hot and hard.”
“That’s what he said,” Mad Mike snickered, but his eyes were glowing at the prospect of mayhem and violence.
Tommy groaned and nudged his boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Boss.”
“I am not the fucking Boss!” Jared snarls.
“Jay,” Pete says.
“No,” Jared says shrugging off Pete’s placating hand.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Stevie Guitar says. “Sounds like it won’t take much to neutralize them. Then we can sweep the house for Jensen.”
“We going on foot?” Tommy asks. “More stealthy that way. They might be slacking off now, but if they hear an engine they might come to attention.”
“We need to get closer. I want to check shit out with my own eyes first,” Jared says. “Follow in your Caddy, JD. You got your bag?”
“Of course. Got any and all supplies I think might be needed to triage Mr. Ackles.”
“Let’s go.”
The men nod and all pile into the Navigator. It’s a bit awkward with the third row of seating gone. Pete drives at a crawl, and Jared understands why. Sound seems to carry with the earthy-colored mountains surrounding them. He turns down the track that leads to the ranch and stops as the house comes into view. There is a slight dip and curve in the road that is excellent to hide them from sight of the guards.
“This is where we did our recon,” Tommy says.
The house is an unremarkable single story ranch-style house, but what surrounds it is anything but unremarkable. The perimeter fence Jase had mentioned is roughly eight feet high chain-link topped with razor wire. The slide gate appears to be a cantilever system with an automated locking mechanism that has two guards stationed outside it. Taken individually the fence and gate wouldn’t be out of place at an industrial building or surrounding a warehouse, but here in the middle of nowhere surrounding a ranch house? No. It looks like what Jared suspects it is: a prison. Stupid thing to do really. The Ackles Organization’s Ranch looks dilapidated and anyone who happened on to the property wouldn’t think anything of it nor be curious to investigate. This? This set up screams LOOK AT ME.
As Tommy had said, both guards were on their asses on the hard earth, guns disregarded, one slumped over sleeping.
“Any sign of guahds inside the house?” Pete asks.
“We saw no one go in or out of the house. I doubt there are any, tell ya the truth,” Jase says. “I think Collins has put all his confidence in the big fucker by the house door.”
Jared rolls his eyes. Collins even has his own giant of a man. He really was trying to imitate Jensen.
“He ain’t no Big Pete,” Stevie Guitar says leaning forward to look out the windshield. “Big Pete’d never be playin’ on a phone when he had a job to do.”
“Can we drive through that?” Jared inquires pointing at the gate. Charging in guns blazing seems the best course of action, and not because Jared wants to inflict as much damage as possible in an opening gambit but because the element of surprise is with them. They need to take full advantage of that.
Mike grins, that mad eager light in his eye. “Nav is armor plated and heavy as fuck. We could get through it easy if Big Pete backs up and guns it.”
“That’ll wake ‘em up,” Pete says in that dry deadpan tone of his. The IC guys laugh. Jared almost joins them.
Ten days of missing Jensen and Jared worrying himself half to death and retrieving him is really easy.
Steel or not, the gate fucking erupts when Pete drives the SUV through it with the speedometer approaching ninety. That draws the attention of the perimeter guards and they all coming running. The IC vault from the Nav and spray bullets at anything that isn’t them. The opposition finally clue in to the fact that something big is going down and begin returning fire. Worryingly, Jared hears someone shout “KANE!”
Jared makes a beeline for the ranch house and the big motherfucker “guarding” it. Jared mows him down with his Tommy gun, putting enough lead in him to nearly saw him in half. The Big Man clutches his mutilated guts and collapses back onto his ass. Pete, who had been behind Jared, covering him, puts a single bullet into the Big Man’s brain, ending his suffering. Jared scowls. He wanted anyone and everyone involved in this shit to endure untold suffering.
More gunfire and shouting from behind him but it fades into the background as Jared turns his attention to the house’s door. He gazes in dim alarm and burgeoning hope. Across the door is a three inch solid steel bar. There was only one reason for that kind of security. Jensen is captive in this fucking house.
“JENSEN!” Jared bellows. “Can you hear me?” He levels his Tommy gun at the steel bar. “Take cover if you can!” Jared steps back and curls his finger around the trigger.
“No,” Pete says grabbing Jared’s shoulder and pulling him back.
Jared damn near pumps his oldest friend full of lead. “What the fuck, Peter!” Jared howls.
“Won’t woahk. They’ll just ricochet and huaht us.”
The action behind them seems to have tapered off. There was no more gunfire but there were shouts and cries of pain.
“Big Pete is right,” Jared turns and sees Mad Mike looking none the worse for wear, a little blood splatter and a split lip. His grin is wide and wild as he holds up and fucking grenade. “I can take care’a that for you, Little Boss.” He wags his brows, fingering the pin in the grenade lovingly. Jared really fucking likes this guy.
“JENSEN! Please, if you can hear, get as far away from the door as possible!” Jared and Pete take cover behind the Navigator. Mike waits thirty seconds before pulling the pin on the grenade and running full-tilt boogie toward them, jumping over the hood and landing on his ass beside them, eyes alight.
“You coulda just busted a window out, ya know?” Pete says again calm as anything and deadpan as usual.
Before either Mike or Jared can retort the grenade detonates and the entire door and front wall of the house is blown away. Shrapnel goes flying in all directions. Mike, Pete, and Jared are unharmed. The blast has barely finished reverberating and Jared is running toward the house, his heart in this throat.
Please, don’t let my baby have been near the door.
Jared jumps over the smoking rubble and into the house. Though the front wall was decimated Jared can see a hall off to the left. Straight ahead was what was left of a living room with a dining area and kitchen beyond. Jensen is nowhere in sight.
“JENSEN!” Jared shouts.
“You and Mike do the hallway,” Pete says moving past Jared and into the living area. “I’ll check through theah. Be caahful.”
“Yo! Boss Man! You in here?” Mike shouts, moving down the long hall and cautiously pushes open a door on the left.
Jared follows behind him, mimicking his action of pushing open the door on the right before sticking his head in. He can hear Peter calling for Jensen as well in the kitchen.
“Jensen!” Jared calls out. The room is totally empty. No furniture. Nothing. He feels as if he’s moving through sludge can’t, pick up his feet, but he knows he’s moving feeling as if the last grains of sand in an hourglass have run out. Where is he? He has to be here. Has to be!
“Boss Ackles?” Mike calls, a little further down the hall.
“I found ‘im!” Comes Petey’s powerful bass voice from somewhere deep within the house. “He’s heah!”
Panic and excitement war inside Jared as he sprints back down the hall, through the obliterated living room and into the kitchen. He stops glancing around. Heart thundering breathing deep and ragged, he’s drenched in sweat. He feels dizzy and is shaking all over. Where the fuck was Petey? Had he imagned Pete saying he found Jensen? Maybe he was finally going insane. The machine gun feels very heavy in his arm. If Jensen isn’t here after all this Jared may just use it on himself.
“Petey?” Jared calls voice raising an octave. “Where?”
“Down heah!”
“Must be a basement,” Mike says, at Jared’s shoulder.
“Is he alive?” Jared forces the words out. His entire existence hinges on Pete’s answer.
“Yeah, but he don’t look too good.”
“Motherfucker!” Jared yells.
There is a bright light coming from a doorway that looked as if it had been camouflaged into the wall. Jared thunders down the wood steps. When he reaches the bottom he sees Pete looking down into a hole or well. Swallowing, Jared gazes down and his world drops. At the bottom of the pit is a naked man, smeared with dirt, that doesn’t appear to be breathing or moving. It’s Jensen. He’d know that form anywhere.
Jared grips Petey’s bicep, feeling all of ten again. “Are you sure he’s alive?”
Doc Morgan had a spinal board in the trunk of his Caddy, and, with some rope from the Nav, they lowered Mike, who was the smallest and the lightest, down into the pit. With care and gentleness Jared wouldn’t have expected, Mike positions Jensen onto the board and they lift Jensen up and out. Jared dances from foot to foot, on a knife’s edge. He needs to see Jensen, to touch him, let him know, let them both know that he was safe and everything would be okay. Jensen is naked and unresponsive on the board. Jared wants to scream and cry, rend his clothes, and tear out his hair. On legs that feel like pudding, Jared approaches the man he loves, but Doc Morgan shoves him out of the way with his bulging duffel of medical supplies.
Pete wraps an arm around Jared’s shoulders to hold him back. “He needs to check ‘im out, Jared.” Pete’s voice is soft with understanding, but his hold is firm. “Best thing you can do foah Mr. Ackles now is let ‘im. I know it’s killin’ ya.”
Jared wails; the emotional turmoil at last breaking free from the duct taped dam of his will and flooding out. Pete’s grip on him tightens. Tommy, Mike, Stevie and Kane all exchange worried puzzled looks.
Doc Morgan flashes his penlight in Jensen’s eyes. “Pupils reacting.” He taps his stethoscope before pressing it to Jensen’s bare chest. “Heartbeat erratic.” He plucks at Jensen’s skin. “Dehydrated. Badly.” Morgan says. “Gotta get some fluids in him.”
The doc puts gloves on before pulling several things out of his duffel. Jared recognizes a bag of IV fluids, a length of tubing, and a needle catheter. He cleans Jensen’s arm, ties on a tourniquet, and inserts the catheter in the crook of his elbow and hooks the tubing and IV into it. “I think it is just dehydration. Very severe dehydration, which accounts for his lethargy and heartbeat. Let’s get him into the SUV and back to the Compound. I’ll hook him up to a heart monitor to make sure his heart rhythms stabilize as he gets hydrated. Jase needs a hospital ASAP though. Kane, you’re good for now, right?”
Kane nods. Jared notices a bloody bandage on Kane’s shoulder and that Lazy Jase isn’t amongst their number.
“What happened to Lazy Jase?” Pete asks.
“Got it in the back,” Stevie Guitar says. “He’s conscious but says he can’t feel his legs.”
“Aww, Jesus,” Petey says and crosses himself.
Jared feels strangely disconnected from the news about Jase and Kane. It’s the risk inherent in their lifestyle. If needed Jared would have taken a bullet for Jensen. He gazes down at Jensen who looks somehow small and frail. Jared wants to strip out of his own clothes and cover Jensen. His nakedness is not for anyone else’s eyes, but they weren’t really looking at Jensen.
Unable to help himself, Jared collapses to his knees beside the man he loves. “I got you, baby. It’s okay. We’ll get you home and you’ll be fine.” Then he does something he has never done before and presses a kiss to Jensen’s pale parched lips in front of everyone.
“Well, shit fire and save matches!” Mike exclaims looking agog at Jared. “You and the Boss?”
“Mike, I am too tired to kill you so just shut up,” Jared says caressing Jensen’s bearded cheek.
“He didn’t mean anything by it, Jared,” Tommy says. “We figured the Boss had someone. We didn’t figure on it being you though.”
“Y’all kept that secret locked up tighter than a ten year old’s pussy.”
“For fuck’s sake, Michael,” Tommy cringes.
“Little Jay?” Stevie says tentatively.
Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen’s still form to look at the other man. “What?”
“What’re we doin’ about this fuckin’ place?”
Dimly Jared realizes that although Jensen is found and seems to be relatively stable. Jared is still the Big Boss Man until Jensen is in control of his faculties. He is more than ready to lay down that mantle. If this ordeal has taught him anything it’s that he is not meant to be King. Jensen can wear the crown; Jared is content to support and protect him, offer advice if he feels he can, and love him.
“Burn it to the goddamn ground. And get a crew in here to get rid of the bodies. Stevie, get Jase to a fucking hospital, now.”
Stevie nods and quickly departs.
“Kane, you gonna stay and help Mike and Tommy or you riding with us back to the Compound?”
“I’ll stay, sir.”
Jared nods. “Let’s get to it.”
Jared falls asleep for the first time in days in the back of the Nav with Jensen, holding his hand. He doesn’t dream.
As much as Jared wants to tend to Jensen when they arrive back at the Compound as the sun is rising on a new and better day, he has one thing he has to do. He sees that Jensen is comfortably ensconced in their bed, kisses his forehead before leaving him in Doc Morgan’s capable hands. He has to settle things with Misha fucking Collins.
Anger pulses through Jared with every beat of his ice cold heart as he enters the cell. Everything Jensen must have suffered in that dark pit, the worry, the fear, all of Jared’s worry and fear, color his vision red as he sets eyes on the man responsible for it all. Misha is where Jared left him, on the embalming table; somehow still alive.
Quickly and efficiently, Jared doesn’t want to take too long with this task, but he won’t be able to rest until it is done and done by his own hand, he locks the shackles around Misha’s wrists and hoists him up, suspending him just so the toe of his remaining foot drags the ground.
Then, he grasps the Bowie knife.
He hits Collins with a vicious backhand. “You conscious, asshole?”
He thinks he hears a weak wheeze from the hanging man. Jared grabs a handful of hair and lifts his head up. Collins’s blue eyes were half mast and bright with fever and pain, but Jared thinks there is a spark of recognition in them.
“We found him, motherfucker. Enjoy hell…until I get there.” Jared plunges the eight inch long blade deep into Misha’s guts and wrenches up. He steps back as Misha’s intestines spill out in a grotesque red flood, like a garden hose coated with cherry syrup.
Jared tosses the knife down and exits the cell without a backward glance
When he returns home to the Compound, Doc Morgan is in with Jensen who is still asleep. Someone must have given him a sponge bath because he looks clean though his hair is still filthy and he still has a patchy beard. The doc is looking at a print out from some heart machine he has Jensen hook up to.
“Is his heart okay?” Jared asks softly approaching the side of their bed.
Doc Morgan lifts his head from the lengthy print out and tugs his wire-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I took an EKG,” he indicates the printout. “There was some arrhythmia when he was first hooked up, but his heart rhythms have begun to stabilize. He’s still dehydrated and I have some vitamins piggybacking his IV fluids because he’s obviously been starved as well. I want him to eat and drink as soon as he’s awake and able. How are you, Jared?”
Jared scrubs a hand over his face, feels grit and who knew what else covering it. He can’t imagine what he looks like. He feels like a zombie, but better now that Jensen is home and safe. “Tired as hell.”
“You still taking Coke to keep yourself awake?”
Jared takes a seat beside the bed and takes Jensen’s hand in his. “No, sir,” Jared says. He never calls anyone sir, but Morgan just has that presence about him, commands respect, and Jared will give it.
“Good. Leave that shit alone. I want you to rest and eat as well. I’ll be in from time to time to check on the heart monitor and change the IV. I think Jensen will be fine once properly hydrated.”
Those words soothe Jared’s ragged soul and he relaxes back into the chair.
“Thanks, Doc.”
Doc Morgan gives a nod and departs.
Jared remains by Jensen’s bedside, intermittently dozing, but never fully dropping off. At some point, Mike, Tommy, Stevie and Kane cautiously come in. They relay that everything at Collins’s “ranch” had been taken care of and they were off to the hospital to check on Lazy Jase.
Jared thanks them for their help and asks that they pass on his good wishes and get-wells to Jase, then he and Jensen are alone again.
When Jensen begins to stir, making small whimpering noises, Jared snaps out of his doze and grips his hand. “Jense? You with me, baby?” His voice sounds hoarse and his heart jumps from his chest to sit in the back of his throat. What if Jensen has sustained some kind of neurological damage they don’t know about because he has been barely conscious or asleep?
When Jensen opens his eyes, eyes that are clear and bright and burn with recognition, Jared allows himself to breathe freely for the first time in ten fucking days.
Author:
rose_the_hatPairing: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count 31,000-ish
Summary: In which Jensen is a powerful mob boss who has been kidnapped and Jared is his Enforcer willing to do anything to get him back
Warnings:allusions to past molestation and prostitution; graphic torture; blink-and-you-miss-it bottom Jared; PTSD
Notes:This is a companion piece to The Power Behind The Throne from Jared's POV. Yes, you do need to read/have read that to understand this.
I never planned on writing from Jared’s POV, so any inconsistencies you may notice from the previous story and this one, just chalk them up to me doing a little retconning or Jared being an unreliable narrator.
Huge thanks to
jdl71 for doing the beta and being an awesome cheerleader and support even when I kept sending her the same parts multiple times to read.Fic title and chapter titles are all Metallica songs.
4 - Hero of the Day
Keeping Peter’s words in mind about what Jensen would think if he knew Jared was abusing himself, Jared ceases taking the occasional pinch of coke and sticks to coffee. It’s a poor substitute but Pete is right. Jensen wouldn’t want Jared to kill himself. If Jared were to accidentally OD it would probably be a death sentence for Jensen as well. He’s irritable and twitchy, realizes he’s probably suffering some minor withdrawal symptoms even if he hasn’t been using much or long. Fuck it. If he has to go to rehab and detox he will, after Jensen is safe and sound. His guys are out running down leads, the way they have been over the last week and a half. Pete is beside him, reading what looks to be a letter over and over again. Petey is very old school, disdaining much of technology besides his e-reader. Pete refolds the piece of paper and puts it in back into his jeans pocket.
“You slept yet, Kid?”
“No,” Jared says and rubs his eyes. He sinks back into the chair and sighs. What else can he possibly do to help Jensen?
He and Peter were back at the Compound, in Jensen’s office. Pete had dragged him away from Collins and The Ranch and brought him here to decompress and feel close to Jensen. This is Jensen’s favorite room, other than their bedroom, and Jared cannot bring himself to go up there. Not after that nightmare of Jensen dead and rotting in their bed.
“You?” Jared inquires.
“A bit. On and off, like the other guys. You should take a showah and shave. Might make ya feel bettah. Definitely make ya smell bettah.”
Jared dismisses the suggestion and Pete’s attempt at levity. He’ll feel better when Jensen is with him again. “Petey, do…do you think we’ll find him? Be honest with me.”
“Ya know I’ll always give it to ya straight, Kid. And yeah, I do. I’m not saying that to blow smoke up youah ass or make ya feel bettah. This Collins guy ain’t smaaht. His crew ain’t eithea and they ain’t loyal. He’s made a mistake somewheah and Mr. Ackles’ guys’ll find it.”
Jared’s throat closes up and his eyes begin to sting. He knows Petey is right but it’s just been so long and a person can only endure so much. As it is Jared feels as if he’s at his breaking point. Everything he has done has yielded no results. He had never felt as useless and desperate as he does now. What must Jensen be feeling?
“What if—“
“Thinkin ya ‘what ifs’ ain’t gonna do a damn bit’a good, Jared,” Peter cuts across him. “Only thing that is doin’ foah ya is drivin’ ya closah to the edge, and you aah already dangling one foot ovah it.”
Jared is opening his mouth to speak, to say what he doesn’t know when he stops at the roar of an engine and tires screeching out in the central turn around. He and Pete exchange tense looks.
A moment later Aldis bursts into the office a wide grin on his face. “Mr. Padalecki, sir!”
Jared’s heart leaps into his throat and he feels dizzy. His entire world hangs on what Aldis is about to say. He knows it must be something good or Aldis wouldn’t be smiling. He allows himself to feel a sliver of hope that this nightmare is about to end. “What?”
“We got a possible line on Mr. Ackles’ location. Get this shit. Collins bought an old dude ranch in Alpine. About seven hours from Dallas, near the Davis Mountains. That is some isolated out of the way area.”
Jared’s pushing to his feet before he’s even aware of doing so. A ranch. A ranch? Jesus fucking Christ. Was that asshole trying to imitate Jensen and the Organization? Hadn’t Pileggi explicitly used the word Organization when referring to Collins’ mob of wannabes? It actually makes a lot of sense. Insofar as Jared’s sleep-deprived mind can make sense of anything.
“Anything else you can tell me about it?”
“He’s had some work done on it. Lindberg found some receipts for heavy equipment rentals—augers, excavators, Ditch Witchs, front end loaders.”
“Augahs? Loadahs?” Pete says getting to his feet as well, black brows knitted together in a deep frown of concern. “That’s some diggin’ shit, deep diggin’ shit.”
“That’s where he is,” Jared says, sure of it. Bile rises in his throat and he struggles with his gorge. Dear God, digging equipment. His hand shakes as he extracts his phone from his pocket, the terrifying idea dawning that Misha has buried Jensen alive.
Peter takes the phone from him and fixes him with an understanding gaze. “Youah gonna wanna go off half-cocked on this, Jared. Ya can’t,” he cautions pressing a thumb to Kane’s contact info. “Kane, get the crew togetha. We know wheah Mr. Ackles is.”
Jared slaps Aldis on the shoulder, grips it hard. It’s the only kind of thank you and apology he can offer.
The IC, plus Mad Mike, are back at the Compound in record time. They all wear tense and angry expressions. Those looks become even more wrathful when Jared relays to them the information Aldis gave him. They want their boss, their friend, back every bit as much as Jared wants his lover back.
“That motherfucker,” Kane says, looking ready to chew steel and spit nails.
“Exactly. Aldis says it’s seven hours from Dallas. I want Tommy Blue and Lazy Jase to go on ahead for some reconnaissance. We’ll be behind by a couple of hours. Learn everything you can. Guards, firepower, anything and everything.”
“You got it, Boss,” Jase says.
“I’m not the boss,” Jared states flatly. “We’re going to go get him.”
“Kane, Petey and Stevie Guitar will be with me. And Mike, you too, unless you want to go with Tommy?”
“I’m cool riding with you guys.”
Jared nods. “Doc Morgan is gonna follow us. We don’t know what condition Jensen will be in when we find him; Doc will be there to assess and triage him.” Jared holds out six phones. “Everybody take one. Burners. Aldis and Lindberg have already programmed our contact info into them. He’ll wipe and destroy them after we get Jensen back. Now, let’s arm up and head out.”
“A'oo!” Mike cheers as if he is a Spartan soldier. It almost makes Jared smile.
Jared knows he should take more time to plan a careful and well thought out assault on the building they suspect Jensen is being held captive in, but he just can’t. He doesn’t believe in psychic flashes, premonitions, or other metaphysical shit, but he knows that Jensen is in serious trouble if they don’t get to him soon. Jensen has been gone ten days now. That could possibly be without food or water. They have to act now. Each IC member is armed to the fucking teeth and wearing Kevlar vests. Jared is packing his .357 and his beloved Thompson submachine gun that Jensen gave him for his twenty-fifth birthday. He never felt more like a gangster from the prohibition-era than when Jensen gave it to him.
Given what Jared has gleaned from his men’s interrogations of Collins’ stooges he doesn’t expect much resistance. There is no loyalty in them. Collins neither earned nor inspired it in the men he recruited. So much the better for Jared’s guys. The men who follow Jared are loyal to him and Jensen; years of friendship, trust, and love bind them together.
They decide to take the new Lincoln Navigator. Jared sends Pete into the main house for some blankets and pillows. He folds down the third row of seating, making a kind of bed for Jensen, when they find him. After last minute checks of weapons and ammo they hit the road.
Jared’s leg bounces and he fiddles with the Sirius radio buttons, changing from one station to another hoping to find something to take his mind off things for just a little while. All the stations are Jensen’s favorites. Every song, every artist—Blue Oyster Cult, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Bob fucking Segar—make him think of Jensen and better, happier days. He cannot bear to listen to them with the nightmare scenarios playing in his head. Them finding Jensen only for him to be dead for only minutes prior to their arrival, his gently tanned skin still warm, or they find him and he has been dead for days his beautiful features and body distorted by bloat, rotting from the inside out. Shit like that went though Jared’s head every second of every day that Jensen’s been missing and people expected him to sleep? Idiots. He wants a bump of Coke, but won’t, can’t, do that shit anymore. He doesn’t really need it, knows its working his way out of his system, that’s part of why he’s so irritable and twitchy. He doesn’t miss the way it made his heart beat out of control or how it made his nose run.
“Will you fuckin’ stop, Jared,” Pete snaps, uncharacteristic of him, after Jared punches over to yet another radio station. Night Moves had just started to play.
“Fuck off, Pete!” Jared snarls. “Just drive the damn car!”
They had been on I-20 for an hour and a half when traffic grinds to a halt.
“What the fuck!” Jared explodes, slamming a palm into the dash.
“Must be an accident,” Stevie says sensibly.
“You don’t say,” Jared replies in a viscous snark.
“What crawled up your ass, Jay?” Kane asks.
“You can fuck off, too.”
“Little Boss, you need something to take the edge off?” Mike asks, already reaching into a pocket.
Jared’s nose tingles and the urge to say yes gnaws at him but he won’t. “No,” Jared answers absolute. “What I fucking need is this goddamn traffic to move!”
A tense quiet settles over the SUV as the traffic continues to crawl. Jared really needs teleportation to be a thing. Seriously, they had communicators, PADDs, and other sci-fi Star Trek shit, but not the coolest most useful thing? Fucked up, man. He almost smiles thinking about Star Trek and Jensen being a closet Trekkie. One night after sex Jared had listened to Jensen speculate for three goddamn hours about the Breen. He had still been talking about what could possibly be under the environmental suits the Breen wore as he dropped off to sleep. Jared’s heart clenches at the sweet memory.
The accident, once they get close to it, turns out to be a semi that jackknifed and spilled its load—cases of M&Ms—all over the interstate and people were taking packages of the colorful candies by the armful even as police tried to direct traffic and discourage the looters.
“I could really go for some M&Ms,” Mike says smacking his lips.
Jared rubs his eyes. “I could go for coffee.”
“A-fuckin-gree,” Kane said.
After they pass the accident sight, Pete makes an executive decision, takes the next exit to hit up a Starbucks and orders a dozen coffees. Once they are back on the interstate, and properly caffeinated, Pete speeds like a motherfucker.
Jared’s burner trills and he immediately answers it. “Go.”
“We got eyes on the place, Boss,” Lazy Jase’s usually languid and playful voice was hard and all business.
“You’re there already?” It eased something inside him to know that other IC men were close to Jensen’s location. His man wasn’t entirely alone. Help was there and more was on the way. Jared knew if he ordered them to storm the place where Jensen was, Tommy and Jase wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
“We shagged ass,” Jase replies simply.
Jared grins. He knew they would. “What ya seeing?” Jared asks.
“The dude ranch is set way back off the main road. There is a turn off onto a dirt road that goes for about half a mile that leads up to a gate. There is a perimeter fence and its guarded by a dozen men by our count. We haven’t been here long enough to notice any shift changes. Each guard is dressed in street clothes, appears to not be wearing body armor and are carrying semi automatic rifles. Looks like…Smith & Wesson M&P 15-22s. So not a lot of firepower.”
“Overall impressions?”
“Amateur as fuck, sir,” Jase says. Tommy Blue laughs in the background.
“Keep watch. Relay any important developments back to us. We’ll be there soon as we can.” Jared ends the call.
When at last they rendezvous with Tommy and Jase, Jared is about to come out of his skin knowing Jensen is close, feeling it in his bones, needing to stampede into that ranch house, find and get him into Doc Morgan’s care.
Their rendezvous point is two miles from the mouth of the turn off that leads to the ranch where they suspect—know—Jensen is being held. Lazy Jace and Tommy Blue are waiting for them.
Jared, Pete, Stevie Guitar, Kane and Mad Mike exit the Navigator. “New developments?” Jared immediately asks.
Tommy Blue shakes his head, scrubbing a hand across his face. “These guys are so goddamn unprofessional. I don’t know if it’s laughable or pathetic.” His handsome features twist in distaste. “There is a big guy, looks as big as Big Pete, and he’s supposed to be standing guard at the entrance to the ranch house itself. He’s there by the door alright, playing on his fucking phone.”
The other members of the IC all make noises of disbelieve and disgust. Jared absorbs the information. It’s no more or less than he’d expected. Low level thugs wanting some kind of power and buying into whatever shit Collins was selling them.
“Sheeeit,” Lazy Jase drawls. “The guards by the gate are fucking sittin’ down, one looks to be asleep. The other guards stationed around the fence and the house itself are all doin’ similar shit.”
“How many totahl?” Pete asks.
“Fourteen.”
They all turn, drawing their weapons when they hear the crunch of tires on dry earth and the approach of an engine. It is only Doc Morgan in his cherry red Caddy. He kills the engine and climbs out of the car, approaching them with a loose-limbed gait. He greets them with a nod, .45 tucked into the waistband of his black slacks. Jared has a new respect for the doc after he fearlessly plucked the scalpel from Jared’s fist that he had been holding to Morgan’s throat. That man was a badass and capable and he would do everything to care for Jensen.
They holster their weapons and return to their conversation. Jared is fucking done. “They are unprepared for any kind of attack. We move in now, and hit ‘em with everything.”
Kane is nodding. “Agreed. We go in hot and hard.”
“That’s what he said,” Mad Mike snickered, but his eyes were glowing at the prospect of mayhem and violence.
Tommy groaned and nudged his boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Boss.”
“I am not the fucking Boss!” Jared snarls.
“Jay,” Pete says.
“No,” Jared says shrugging off Pete’s placating hand.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Stevie Guitar says. “Sounds like it won’t take much to neutralize them. Then we can sweep the house for Jensen.”
“We going on foot?” Tommy asks. “More stealthy that way. They might be slacking off now, but if they hear an engine they might come to attention.”
“We need to get closer. I want to check shit out with my own eyes first,” Jared says. “Follow in your Caddy, JD. You got your bag?”
“Of course. Got any and all supplies I think might be needed to triage Mr. Ackles.”
“Let’s go.”
The men nod and all pile into the Navigator. It’s a bit awkward with the third row of seating gone. Pete drives at a crawl, and Jared understands why. Sound seems to carry with the earthy-colored mountains surrounding them. He turns down the track that leads to the ranch and stops as the house comes into view. There is a slight dip and curve in the road that is excellent to hide them from sight of the guards.
“This is where we did our recon,” Tommy says.
The house is an unremarkable single story ranch-style house, but what surrounds it is anything but unremarkable. The perimeter fence Jase had mentioned is roughly eight feet high chain-link topped with razor wire. The slide gate appears to be a cantilever system with an automated locking mechanism that has two guards stationed outside it. Taken individually the fence and gate wouldn’t be out of place at an industrial building or surrounding a warehouse, but here in the middle of nowhere surrounding a ranch house? No. It looks like what Jared suspects it is: a prison. Stupid thing to do really. The Ackles Organization’s Ranch looks dilapidated and anyone who happened on to the property wouldn’t think anything of it nor be curious to investigate. This? This set up screams LOOK AT ME.
As Tommy had said, both guards were on their asses on the hard earth, guns disregarded, one slumped over sleeping.
“Any sign of guahds inside the house?” Pete asks.
“We saw no one go in or out of the house. I doubt there are any, tell ya the truth,” Jase says. “I think Collins has put all his confidence in the big fucker by the house door.”
Jared rolls his eyes. Collins even has his own giant of a man. He really was trying to imitate Jensen.
“He ain’t no Big Pete,” Stevie Guitar says leaning forward to look out the windshield. “Big Pete’d never be playin’ on a phone when he had a job to do.”
“Can we drive through that?” Jared inquires pointing at the gate. Charging in guns blazing seems the best course of action, and not because Jared wants to inflict as much damage as possible in an opening gambit but because the element of surprise is with them. They need to take full advantage of that.
Mike grins, that mad eager light in his eye. “Nav is armor plated and heavy as fuck. We could get through it easy if Big Pete backs up and guns it.”
“That’ll wake ‘em up,” Pete says in that dry deadpan tone of his. The IC guys laugh. Jared almost joins them.
Ten days of missing Jensen and Jared worrying himself half to death and retrieving him is really easy.
Steel or not, the gate fucking erupts when Pete drives the SUV through it with the speedometer approaching ninety. That draws the attention of the perimeter guards and they all coming running. The IC vault from the Nav and spray bullets at anything that isn’t them. The opposition finally clue in to the fact that something big is going down and begin returning fire. Worryingly, Jared hears someone shout “KANE!”
Jared makes a beeline for the ranch house and the big motherfucker “guarding” it. Jared mows him down with his Tommy gun, putting enough lead in him to nearly saw him in half. The Big Man clutches his mutilated guts and collapses back onto his ass. Pete, who had been behind Jared, covering him, puts a single bullet into the Big Man’s brain, ending his suffering. Jared scowls. He wanted anyone and everyone involved in this shit to endure untold suffering.
More gunfire and shouting from behind him but it fades into the background as Jared turns his attention to the house’s door. He gazes in dim alarm and burgeoning hope. Across the door is a three inch solid steel bar. There was only one reason for that kind of security. Jensen is captive in this fucking house.
“JENSEN!” Jared bellows. “Can you hear me?” He levels his Tommy gun at the steel bar. “Take cover if you can!” Jared steps back and curls his finger around the trigger.
“No,” Pete says grabbing Jared’s shoulder and pulling him back.
Jared damn near pumps his oldest friend full of lead. “What the fuck, Peter!” Jared howls.
“Won’t woahk. They’ll just ricochet and huaht us.”
The action behind them seems to have tapered off. There was no more gunfire but there were shouts and cries of pain.
“Big Pete is right,” Jared turns and sees Mad Mike looking none the worse for wear, a little blood splatter and a split lip. His grin is wide and wild as he holds up and fucking grenade. “I can take care’a that for you, Little Boss.” He wags his brows, fingering the pin in the grenade lovingly. Jared really fucking likes this guy.
“JENSEN! Please, if you can hear, get as far away from the door as possible!” Jared and Pete take cover behind the Navigator. Mike waits thirty seconds before pulling the pin on the grenade and running full-tilt boogie toward them, jumping over the hood and landing on his ass beside them, eyes alight.
“You coulda just busted a window out, ya know?” Pete says again calm as anything and deadpan as usual.
Before either Mike or Jared can retort the grenade detonates and the entire door and front wall of the house is blown away. Shrapnel goes flying in all directions. Mike, Pete, and Jared are unharmed. The blast has barely finished reverberating and Jared is running toward the house, his heart in this throat.
Please, don’t let my baby have been near the door.
Jared jumps over the smoking rubble and into the house. Though the front wall was decimated Jared can see a hall off to the left. Straight ahead was what was left of a living room with a dining area and kitchen beyond. Jensen is nowhere in sight.
“JENSEN!” Jared shouts.
“You and Mike do the hallway,” Pete says moving past Jared and into the living area. “I’ll check through theah. Be caahful.”
“Yo! Boss Man! You in here?” Mike shouts, moving down the long hall and cautiously pushes open a door on the left.
Jared follows behind him, mimicking his action of pushing open the door on the right before sticking his head in. He can hear Peter calling for Jensen as well in the kitchen.
“Jensen!” Jared calls out. The room is totally empty. No furniture. Nothing. He feels as if he’s moving through sludge can’t, pick up his feet, but he knows he’s moving feeling as if the last grains of sand in an hourglass have run out. Where is he? He has to be here. Has to be!
“Boss Ackles?” Mike calls, a little further down the hall.
“I found ‘im!” Comes Petey’s powerful bass voice from somewhere deep within the house. “He’s heah!”
Panic and excitement war inside Jared as he sprints back down the hall, through the obliterated living room and into the kitchen. He stops glancing around. Heart thundering breathing deep and ragged, he’s drenched in sweat. He feels dizzy and is shaking all over. Where the fuck was Petey? Had he imagned Pete saying he found Jensen? Maybe he was finally going insane. The machine gun feels very heavy in his arm. If Jensen isn’t here after all this Jared may just use it on himself.
“Petey?” Jared calls voice raising an octave. “Where?”
“Down heah!”
“Must be a basement,” Mike says, at Jared’s shoulder.
“Is he alive?” Jared forces the words out. His entire existence hinges on Pete’s answer.
“Yeah, but he don’t look too good.”
“Motherfucker!” Jared yells.
There is a bright light coming from a doorway that looked as if it had been camouflaged into the wall. Jared thunders down the wood steps. When he reaches the bottom he sees Pete looking down into a hole or well. Swallowing, Jared gazes down and his world drops. At the bottom of the pit is a naked man, smeared with dirt, that doesn’t appear to be breathing or moving. It’s Jensen. He’d know that form anywhere.
Jared grips Petey’s bicep, feeling all of ten again. “Are you sure he’s alive?”
Doc Morgan had a spinal board in the trunk of his Caddy, and, with some rope from the Nav, they lowered Mike, who was the smallest and the lightest, down into the pit. With care and gentleness Jared wouldn’t have expected, Mike positions Jensen onto the board and they lift Jensen up and out. Jared dances from foot to foot, on a knife’s edge. He needs to see Jensen, to touch him, let him know, let them both know that he was safe and everything would be okay. Jensen is naked and unresponsive on the board. Jared wants to scream and cry, rend his clothes, and tear out his hair. On legs that feel like pudding, Jared approaches the man he loves, but Doc Morgan shoves him out of the way with his bulging duffel of medical supplies.
Pete wraps an arm around Jared’s shoulders to hold him back. “He needs to check ‘im out, Jared.” Pete’s voice is soft with understanding, but his hold is firm. “Best thing you can do foah Mr. Ackles now is let ‘im. I know it’s killin’ ya.”
Jared wails; the emotional turmoil at last breaking free from the duct taped dam of his will and flooding out. Pete’s grip on him tightens. Tommy, Mike, Stevie and Kane all exchange worried puzzled looks.
Doc Morgan flashes his penlight in Jensen’s eyes. “Pupils reacting.” He taps his stethoscope before pressing it to Jensen’s bare chest. “Heartbeat erratic.” He plucks at Jensen’s skin. “Dehydrated. Badly.” Morgan says. “Gotta get some fluids in him.”
The doc puts gloves on before pulling several things out of his duffel. Jared recognizes a bag of IV fluids, a length of tubing, and a needle catheter. He cleans Jensen’s arm, ties on a tourniquet, and inserts the catheter in the crook of his elbow and hooks the tubing and IV into it. “I think it is just dehydration. Very severe dehydration, which accounts for his lethargy and heartbeat. Let’s get him into the SUV and back to the Compound. I’ll hook him up to a heart monitor to make sure his heart rhythms stabilize as he gets hydrated. Jase needs a hospital ASAP though. Kane, you’re good for now, right?”
Kane nods. Jared notices a bloody bandage on Kane’s shoulder and that Lazy Jase isn’t amongst their number.
“What happened to Lazy Jase?” Pete asks.
“Got it in the back,” Stevie Guitar says. “He’s conscious but says he can’t feel his legs.”
“Aww, Jesus,” Petey says and crosses himself.
Jared feels strangely disconnected from the news about Jase and Kane. It’s the risk inherent in their lifestyle. If needed Jared would have taken a bullet for Jensen. He gazes down at Jensen who looks somehow small and frail. Jared wants to strip out of his own clothes and cover Jensen. His nakedness is not for anyone else’s eyes, but they weren’t really looking at Jensen.
Unable to help himself, Jared collapses to his knees beside the man he loves. “I got you, baby. It’s okay. We’ll get you home and you’ll be fine.” Then he does something he has never done before and presses a kiss to Jensen’s pale parched lips in front of everyone.
“Well, shit fire and save matches!” Mike exclaims looking agog at Jared. “You and the Boss?”
“Mike, I am too tired to kill you so just shut up,” Jared says caressing Jensen’s bearded cheek.
“He didn’t mean anything by it, Jared,” Tommy says. “We figured the Boss had someone. We didn’t figure on it being you though.”
“Y’all kept that secret locked up tighter than a ten year old’s pussy.”
“For fuck’s sake, Michael,” Tommy cringes.
“Little Jay?” Stevie says tentatively.
Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen’s still form to look at the other man. “What?”
“What’re we doin’ about this fuckin’ place?”
Dimly Jared realizes that although Jensen is found and seems to be relatively stable. Jared is still the Big Boss Man until Jensen is in control of his faculties. He is more than ready to lay down that mantle. If this ordeal has taught him anything it’s that he is not meant to be King. Jensen can wear the crown; Jared is content to support and protect him, offer advice if he feels he can, and love him.
“Burn it to the goddamn ground. And get a crew in here to get rid of the bodies. Stevie, get Jase to a fucking hospital, now.”
Stevie nods and quickly departs.
“Kane, you gonna stay and help Mike and Tommy or you riding with us back to the Compound?”
“I’ll stay, sir.”
Jared nods. “Let’s get to it.”
Jared falls asleep for the first time in days in the back of the Nav with Jensen, holding his hand. He doesn’t dream.
As much as Jared wants to tend to Jensen when they arrive back at the Compound as the sun is rising on a new and better day, he has one thing he has to do. He sees that Jensen is comfortably ensconced in their bed, kisses his forehead before leaving him in Doc Morgan’s capable hands. He has to settle things with Misha fucking Collins.
Anger pulses through Jared with every beat of his ice cold heart as he enters the cell. Everything Jensen must have suffered in that dark pit, the worry, the fear, all of Jared’s worry and fear, color his vision red as he sets eyes on the man responsible for it all. Misha is where Jared left him, on the embalming table; somehow still alive.
Quickly and efficiently, Jared doesn’t want to take too long with this task, but he won’t be able to rest until it is done and done by his own hand, he locks the shackles around Misha’s wrists and hoists him up, suspending him just so the toe of his remaining foot drags the ground.
Then, he grasps the Bowie knife.
He hits Collins with a vicious backhand. “You conscious, asshole?”
He thinks he hears a weak wheeze from the hanging man. Jared grabs a handful of hair and lifts his head up. Collins’s blue eyes were half mast and bright with fever and pain, but Jared thinks there is a spark of recognition in them.
“We found him, motherfucker. Enjoy hell…until I get there.” Jared plunges the eight inch long blade deep into Misha’s guts and wrenches up. He steps back as Misha’s intestines spill out in a grotesque red flood, like a garden hose coated with cherry syrup.
Jared tosses the knife down and exits the cell without a backward glance
When he returns home to the Compound, Doc Morgan is in with Jensen who is still asleep. Someone must have given him a sponge bath because he looks clean though his hair is still filthy and he still has a patchy beard. The doc is looking at a print out from some heart machine he has Jensen hook up to.
“Is his heart okay?” Jared asks softly approaching the side of their bed.
Doc Morgan lifts his head from the lengthy print out and tugs his wire-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I took an EKG,” he indicates the printout. “There was some arrhythmia when he was first hooked up, but his heart rhythms have begun to stabilize. He’s still dehydrated and I have some vitamins piggybacking his IV fluids because he’s obviously been starved as well. I want him to eat and drink as soon as he’s awake and able. How are you, Jared?”
Jared scrubs a hand over his face, feels grit and who knew what else covering it. He can’t imagine what he looks like. He feels like a zombie, but better now that Jensen is home and safe. “Tired as hell.”
“You still taking Coke to keep yourself awake?”
Jared takes a seat beside the bed and takes Jensen’s hand in his. “No, sir,” Jared says. He never calls anyone sir, but Morgan just has that presence about him, commands respect, and Jared will give it.
“Good. Leave that shit alone. I want you to rest and eat as well. I’ll be in from time to time to check on the heart monitor and change the IV. I think Jensen will be fine once properly hydrated.”
Those words soothe Jared’s ragged soul and he relaxes back into the chair.
“Thanks, Doc.”
Doc Morgan gives a nod and departs.
Jared remains by Jensen’s bedside, intermittently dozing, but never fully dropping off. At some point, Mike, Tommy, Stevie and Kane cautiously come in. They relay that everything at Collins’s “ranch” had been taken care of and they were off to the hospital to check on Lazy Jase.
Jared thanks them for their help and asks that they pass on his good wishes and get-wells to Jase, then he and Jensen are alone again.
When Jensen begins to stir, making small whimpering noises, Jared snaps out of his doze and grips his hand. “Jense? You with me, baby?” His voice sounds hoarse and his heart jumps from his chest to sit in the back of his throat. What if Jensen has sustained some kind of neurological damage they don’t know about because he has been barely conscious or asleep?
When Jensen opens his eyes, eyes that are clear and bright and burn with recognition, Jared allows himself to breathe freely for the first time in ten fucking days.
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Date: 2020-10-02 04:34 pm (UTC)From:WTF was Collins thinking? He had to be crazy because no way was that going to work out for him.
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Date: 2020-10-31 07:54 pm (UTC)From:Thanks for reading!