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fufarawMORE THAN US
chapters 9-10, epilogue
nine
Jensen was up early the next morning. Jet lag wasn't fun, but there were things that had to happen, so he forged through it. He contacted the local solicitor the family had worked with before about their dual citizenship. The man had a few moments he could spare, so Jensen went to his office, briefly discussed JJ's situation, and the solicitor agreed it would be best to file JJ's Irish citizenship quickly, voluntarily relinquishing his US citizenship at the same time. Jensen called his dad's cousin Mairead, who lived in a town to the south. She was happy to hear from him, and wasn't fazed at all by his inviting himself for a visit just before lunch.
The family had gotten to know her, and she them, when they had lived here. She was a very pretty woman, about his mother's age or a little younger, and she welcomed him with a hug and insisted he stay for lunch. He was frank with her, presenting JJ's situation, and the fact that having a resident citizen of Ireland as his legal guardian would smooth possible bumps in JJ's path. She thought about it over tuna sandwiches and tea, and gave her agreement, along with the chocolate biscuits for dessert. Jensen told her the solicitor would soon have papers for her to sign, and left her with a promise he and his children would bring them by themselves and have a visit.
He drove the rental car back to their little hotel to find both his kids just finishing lunch in the dining room. Shannon rolled her eyes, as the first words out of JJ's mouth were, "Dad! I need to call Glenn!" Apparently this wasn't the first time she'd heard those words today.
Jensen managed to both stall and soothe JJ, recommending he wait until he had seen a doctor and they were sure he was pregnant, how far along, and had a better idea of how they should proceed from there. JJ wasn't happy with that plan, but lunch began to disagree with him, so Jensen took him up to their room and sent Shannon to shop for saltines. JJ managed to keep his lunch, but he was tired and jet-lagged, and Jensen made him lie down for a nap. When Shannon returned with the crackers, he asked her to keep an eye on her brother and left the room so he could look up doctors in the local directory.
The family doctor they had all seen before was still in practice, and Jensen managed to get him on the phone. Dr. Farrell didn't think an obstetric specialist was necessary for an initial exam, or even for early care as long as there were no problems. And certainly he could see JJ in the next day or two.
Just as Jensen disconnected with Dr. Farrell, his phone rang. It was Jared.
Reassured they had all arrived well, JJ was fine, and the wheels were in motion to instate his citizenship, Jared had news of his own.
"I got your parents and mine, and Jeff and your sister Mac over here for supper after you left, and told them about JJ."
"How'd they take it?"
"Well, they're excited. They're also worried Repro's going to snatch him. I told them our plans so far, and they're all on board. Your mom and mine were working out a visiting roster when they left."
"A what?"
"Sort of a rotation calendar, where everybody visits for a week or two, so there's always somebody there to help out."
"I…huh. I don't know what to say to that. I don't think we're actually going to need help…"
"Well, I think a lot of it is them not wanting to lose touch with JJ, and wanting to meet the new baby. Surrounding them--and you--with family. At least that was the feeling I got about it."
Jensen's eyes stung with unexpected tears. He cleared his throat. "That's really sweet," he said.
"Yeah," Jared agreed. "It really is." He changed the subject. "So, Mac and I are flying out tonight; we have a rental car booked, and we should be there by morning."
Jensen's sense of relief was palpable. He swayed where he stood, just knowing Jared would soon be here to help get through this.
"I'm glad," was all he said. And then, "How'd Mac take the news?"
It was Jared's turn to clear his throat. "He wasn't actually surprised, once he had some time to think about it. But he's gotten really grim and protective. I had to call him off going after Glenn, and make him promise to stay away from him."
"Oh lord, that's all we need."
Jared huffed out an ironic laugh, "I know, right? It was kind of scary there for a minute, but he simmered down pretty quickly when I reminded him what would happen if Glenn reported him and why, and Repro got involved. He backed right down."
"Good," Jensen was relieved.
"Yeah, really. I'd suspect he might do something underhanded and anonymous--only then Glenn wouldn't know why he was getting the crap beat out of him."
"Jared--"
Jared was quick to reassure. "It won't happen, Jensen." He changed the subject. "Listen, we'll be there tomorrow. I miss you. It's only been a day, but you're a long way away, and I miss you. The kids too, but I miss you."
Jensen couldn't speak for a second, the distance between them looming wide. "Tomorrow, man. We'll see you both tomorrow. Love you, Jared."
"Yeah." The voice in his ear was suddenly a little hoarse. "Love you too. Kiss the kids."
"You can kiss them yourself, tomorrow."
"Do it anyway," Jared insisted.
Jensen grinned. "I will. Safe flight. Get here soon." He had to hang up, but it was hard to let go.
* * *
Jensen woke the next morning with a warm body snugged up behind him. The beds were narrow, two to a room, and JJ slept in the other one. Jensen stretched a little and pushed back against the solid, warm weight.
"When did you get in?"
"Not long. Half an hour," Jared murmured into the nape of his neck.
Jensen turned in place to face Jared, whose eyelids had started to droop. "Nuh uh," he scolded gently. "None of that. Jet-lag's a monster, but we can nap this afternoon while the kids are out."
Jared rubbed his nose along Jensen's. "Mmm," he said, with a happy note and a lazy thrust of his hips that promised more than sleep. "Nap."
"Pop?" came a voice from the other bed.
"Yeah, bud, it's me."
JJ started to sit up, but Jensen reminded him, "Crackers, Jadge. On the nightstand."
"Sucks," JJ complained, but there was the rattle of the plastic wrapper as he got a couple of saltines to munch.
Jared rolled out of bed and went over to give him a kiss and sit while he finished the crackers. Jensen put a can of ginger ale in his hand and, so fortified, JJ sat up and hugged his papa.
Being in the village was familiar and comfortable, like old times. At a nod from their parents, Mac and Shannon decided to take a walk and see if they could run across old friends, which left Jared and Jensen alone with JJ.
They went back to the room Jensen and JJ were sharing. This was going to be a difficult discussion, and they needed some privacy.
Jared began. "Robby came by yesterday to check on you. He said to tell you hi."
"Okay." JJ didn’t sound interested; that wasn't the person he wanted to hear from. "Did Glenn come by? Did he call? Did you find my phone, 'cause I need to call him."
Jared exchanged a glance with Jensen, who nodded his agreement. Now was the time to give JJ the hard truth.
"JJ, you can't call Glenn."
"What? But--"
"Jadge, he's right," Jensen said. "Listen to him."
"I know you want to tell him about the baby," Jared began, and JJ nodded. "I know you think it's his right to know, and maybe under other circumstances, it would be. But as things stand, you can't tell him. Ever."
JJ blanched, the color drained from his face. "Pop? What are you saying--?" He turned a puzzled, pleading look on Jensen. "Dad?"
"He's right, Jadge, and I'm sorry," Jensen agreed. "But this is the way it has to be.
"Glenn's the father, so he will have sole custody when the baby's born--or, actually, his parents will, since Glenn's not legally an adult. You, well, Repro will take you for training. You won't see your baby, you won't see us, except when we're allowed to visit. And when you're trained you'll be assigned to a stranger who'll be your pere."
"JJ, if this is what you want," Jared said when Jensen stopped. "If this is the life you want, then we'll go home. We'll call Glenn and you can tell him, and he'll tell his parents, and they'll call Repro, and they will come and get you and keep you somewhere comfortable and safe till the baby's born."
Jensen added, "If Glenn and his family don't want the responsibility of raising the baby, Repro will adopt it out to a couple who can't have their own children. This baby will be loved and well taken care of, but he or she will never know you, or our family. We'll never see your baby."
"But why can't you keep her?" JJ sobbed. "You could raise her--you're the baby's family!"
Jared sat down on the bed beside his son and hugged him. "JJ, we would be so glad to, but the law says children belong to the father. As far as the Department's concerned, you're an undeclared ceiver, which is against the law. As your family, we've been helping you break the law, and they would never allow us to keep your baby."
"It's not fair!" he wailed, and Jared rocked him like the little boy he'd been not so long ago.
"No, Jadge, it's not," Jensen agreed. "But it is what it is, and we can't change it."
"I don't want to give her up!" JJ sobbed. "It's my baby, I don't want to give her up."
Jared stroked the sweat-damp hair off JJ's forehead and brushed the tears away. "We don't want that either," he assured his son.
"But Jadge," Jensen persisted. "If you tell Glenn, that's what's going to happen."
The boy was silent for a few minutes, thinking hard. Jensen reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand and offered it to JJ, who blew his nose and wiped his eyes, and took a deep breath. He gulped back more sobs, and nodded, meeting Jensen's eyes.
"Okay," he said. "Okay."
"We have to stay here," Jensen told him. "We're moving here to live. I've already filed to make you an Irish citizen and relinquish your US citizenship. They can't touch you once that's official."
"I can't go back?"
"Not now," Jared told him. "Maybe someday. We're working on it. But not yet."
Jared hugged him tighter, then got off the bed and went to the mini-fridge for water, poured it into one of the plastic courtesy cups for JJ, and offered what was left in the bottle to Jensen. Jensen waved him off, so Jared finished the bottle.
Jensen took note how drained JJ was. "Okay, how about you take a little nap?" he suggested. "You'll feel better when you wake up."
There was no resistance. JJ was done, for now. "Okay," he nodded.
Jensen flipped the pillow over so his face would rest on the dry, cool side. He pulled the light blanket up over him and kissed his forehead. "We'll be right downstairs when you wake up," he promised. JJ nodded, and was probably asleep before his parents left the room.
* * *
It was lunch time, and though neither of them felt hungry, when the food arrived Jared realized he was famished. Talking to JJ had taken a lot out of him. As they were finishing up over lagers, Mac and Shannon arrived, and joined them for lunch. They had run into several people they knew, and had walked by their old house just for old times' sake. New people were living there now.
"Where do we want to live, Dad?" Shannon asked, and Jensen realized he hadn't even thought about it.
"Probably something similar to our old place," he began, but Mac cleared his throat.
"I won't need a room," he said, his chin coming up in anticipation of a fight. "So you can look for a smaller place."
"Mac? What are you talking about?"
"I'm not staying," he said, simply. "Pop? What are you going to do?"
Jared took his time, but he finally nodded. He had a little trouble meeting Jensen's eyes. "I think I have to go home, Jensen. Back to the states."
"What?" Jensen was completely blindsided. "I thought we were moving back here, as a family, for JJ." His voice registered how upset he was with this turn of events. "What are you guys--" He shook his head. "No," he said, the word coming out with explosive force. "No way. You two are not going back to get deeper involved and get yourselves arrested! Or hurt! Or both!"
He stood and threw his napkin down on the table. Jared reached out and clamped a hand on his arm. "Jensen, calm down. We're just talking. This is the first chance we've had for all of us to talk about this. You've been running on high to get JJ safe. Well, now he is, so we have to figure out where we go from here."
Jensen resisted for another moment, but Shannon said, "Dad?" He relented, and took his seat, and met his daughter's eyes. "I want to stay," she said. "I'm staying with JJ."
"Okay," he told her. "Good." He looked daggers at his husband and elder son, waiting for either of them to say something.
"Jensen, we have to go. Things are starting to happen at home, Repro's grip is starting to crack. We're at the point of maybe being able to force changes in the law, if we can't topple the Department entirely. And if I can help make that happen, I can't walk away."
"Jared, he's your son. He's pregnant, he's never going to see his lover and the father of his kid again, he's away from home, he's scared, he's confused. He needs his family, he needs both of you. And you're going to leave him?"
"If I do this, then maybe someday my son can come home. Maybe everybody's sons can have a better life."
"We have to try, Dad," Mac said. "I love JJ, but I have to work for his chance to live the way he wants to. Him and all the others."
Jensen looked at both of them. "So the two of you are going back, and Shannon and I are supposed to let you? Somebody has to be with JJ, he's going to need his family."
"You'll be here for him, Jensen." Jared said, and smiled at his daughter. "You both will. And the grandparents and aunts and uncles will be coming, too. You guys won't be by yourselves."
"Jared." Jensen could hardly speak. "This is our son. He needs you. I need you."
One look at his husband's face, and words deserted Jared. Jensen waited a moment, and then stood. Without a word, he walked out of the restaurant, out of the hotel, into the bright afternoon, and just kept walking.
They booked another room for Mac and Jared. Jared assumed Mac would share with JJ and Jensen would move into his room, for as long as they were staying, but Jensen refused.
"Somebody needs to be with JJ."
"Mac will be with JJ." Jared moved up behind his husband, pressing his chest close against his back, rubbing his groin against Jensen's ass. He wrapped his arms around Jensen and nuzzled into his neck below his ear, that spot that always made him gasp and press back against Jared. Not this time. Jensen eeled quickly out of Jared's grasp and out of reach.
"Mac won't know what to do if he's sick," Jensen said. "He won't make him eat crackers before he gets up, or bring him ginger ale. I need to take care of JJ."
Jared reached and caught his arm. "Jensen." Jensen pulled loose and moved away again, not meeting Jared's eyes, not even looking at him.
"Are you mad?" Jared had the nerve to be surprised. "Is that what this is? You're mad at me? What, you're punishing me now because I decided not to stay here?"
"You made up your own mind. I had nothing to say about that. I'm just trying to get things settled for my kids. A place to live, JJ has to see the doctor tomorrow. We have to get the papers for Mairead to sign from the solicitor and go visit her in the next day or two. I'm busy, Jared," Jensen snapped.
"I can see that," Jared said. He wanted to respond in kind, but he held himself back. Jensen had a right to be upset. "It's going to be okay, you know. JJ's going to be fine. You and Nonni will be happy here, too. You don't need us to help you cope, Jensen."
"No." Jensen's eyes did meet his, then, a laser-flare of green. "No, what I need is to be deserted. For me and our son to be left to get through this huge life event by ourselves, and to have my husband and my son on the other side of an ocean, getting involved with illegal activities and putting themselves at risk. Dear Santa, take a note, that's exactly what I want." As Jared reached for him again, the ice in his voice would have frozen a lesser man. "Get your hands off me, Padalecki. You're already gone."
And Jared would not let that stand. He grabbed Jensen and pulled him in tight as Jensen struggled. He leaned down and growled in Jensen's ear, "Do you want me to let Mac go back alone, then?"
That had the intended effect. Jensen stopped still. Jared didn't let go. "He will go whether we let him, or not. He's in it, Jensen. He wants it, he's a believer, and he won't be stopped."
Jensen wriggled. "He can't--"
"He will. No matter what we do, short of locking him up. Now, do you want to let him go alone? Or do you want me to go and keep an eye on him? Try to keep him out of the worst of it, keep him safe?"
He could feel it as Jensen relaxed, as he relented and let Jared take some of his weight. "I don't want you to go," Jensen said.
"I know." Jared loosened his grip and Jensen's arms went around him.
Jared and Mac went with them to see Mairead and have her sign as JJ's guardian. Jensen and Jared retained their dual citizenship, as did Mac and Shannon. "The only real Irishman of the bunch!" Mairead smiled and hugged JJ.
Jared went with JJ and Jensen to his doctor's appointment. "Everything's perfectly normal," Dr. Farrell assured them. He gave JJ a list of vitamins and supplements to start taking, and told him to rest and avoid foods that triggered the nausea. That should ease up when he reached his second trimester, he told JJ, welcome news.
Mac and Jared left at the end of the week. Mac spent the last night in JJ's room, and it was questionable whether any of the kids slept, since Shannon joined them and they talked late into the night.
Jensen laid Jared out and kissed him from neck to knees, making sure to hit the ticklish spots. He lay between Jared's legs and took him in hand, licking over the head of his cock and blowing a cool stream of air over the wet skin before swallowing him down, teasing him with tongue and teeth and a slow, tantalizing slide till his chin brushed Jared's balls. When Jared was hissing and groaning between clenched teeth and Jensen could feel he was on the edge, he pulled off and climbed up to straddle Jared, reaching back to set the head of Jared's cock against his entrance, pre-slicked for just this moment. Eyes locked on Jared's, Jensen lowered himself by inches, grinding down in slow circles. Jared groaned and put hands on Jensen's hips, begging him to move, to take more, but letting Jensen move at his own pace. Soon enough, he was bottomed out, and Jared started rutting up into him, as Jensen ground down and pulled up an inch, and back down, again, and again. Gazes locked, breath pumping in and out of each other's lungs, they each held back as long as they could, and then Jared groaned and pulled Jensen down hard on his cock and held him there. Jensen felt him spurt and ground down harder, riding him until he too came all over Jared's belly. Careless of the mess, he sank to lie on top of Jared, both of them breathless, hearts slowing.
Jared opened his lips to say, "I love you." But Jensen stopped the words with his fingers. He eased off and used his boxers to clean them up, rolled Jared onto his side and snugged up against his back, his arm around Jared and his hand on Jared's chest. He could feel Jared's heartbeat--or maybe it was his own--pressed hard against Jared's back. It didn't matter which; they breathed in the same rhythm, and slid silently into sleep.
* * *
Jensen hugged his eldest tight the next morning, whispering, "Stay safe." He watched as Shannon and JJ hugged their papa. He and Jared shared a quick hug, and no words. They already knew everything the other would have had to say, and both of them were on the edge of tears. Father and son piled into Jensen's rental and headed for the airport and home.
Home. Jensen and the kids looked for a house, and found one on the outskirts of the village, an older place, full of drafts and charm. But it was comfortable for three, and there was space for visitors, so they took it. Jensen and the kids started lists of things they wanted shipped from their house in the states, and things they could likely pick up locally, secondhand. Jensen bought a car, just a small thing that would carry three people, an eventual car seat, and groceries on narrow country lanes.
They settled into village life.
* * *
The weeks flew by, filled with getting reacquainted with their friends and neighbors, the shipments of things from the stateside house, and visiting relatives. Both sets of grandparents came, and stayed for a while. Jared's mom and Jensen's had gotten together and worked out a loose schedule so that someone would be visiting almost continuously. It gave Jensen adult company, someone to talk to about his fears and frustrations and worries over the kids, over Jared, over Mac, and someone to relieve his constant attention to JJ. It also gave the kids someone to complain to besides Dad, a second source of opinion or advice. Fall approached, and time to get Shannon registered for school. He asked her, was she sure she didn't want to go back to the school in the states for her senior year? Donna was spending the afternoon with JJ, so Jensen and Shannon went for a walk outside the village.
"We'll be okay, Nonni, Jadge and I, if you want to go back." Jensen told his daughter.
Shannon found a seat on a rock wall, and gazed off across a hilly pasture, giving him her profile. "I'm scared to go back there, Dad," she said, her voice small, weighted with a confession she'd held onto for a while.
"Scared? Why scared, honey?"
"They're getting closer to testing girls. I..." Her lashes were glazed with tears; he tracked one down the cheek closest to him. "I wanted babies, I thought."
He nodded. He'd been aware of her interest in children.
"I thought I was jealous of ceivers, because they could have babies. I hoped, someday, far away in the future, I could have my own when I got married. But I don't know if I can."
She glanced at him and quickly away again. "If they start testing girls, and I find out I can have babies--I wanted to be happy, if that was true." She hiccupped on a sob, pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose.
"But I don't want--" She gulped, and swallowed down a sob. "I don't want to be handed to some stranger to make babies, Daddy. I don't want to!" And there were the sobs, and the flood of tears. He sat beside her and pulled her in against him, wrapping her up and rocking her in his arms.
"Shh, shh, baby girl. It's all right. It's okay." He murmured comforting nonsense at her until she'd cried herself out a little. She stirred and pulled back, and he let her go. She wiped her face and blew her nose again.
"I'm a terrible coward," she hiccupped. Her gaze met his. "I know about you, Dad. I know you're my birth parent. I kind of guessed some of it, and when Mac and I were talking, I asked and he told me the rest."
"Nonni--" He hardly knew what to say.
"I'm so sorry, Dad, that they could do that to you. I don't know how you got through it. I hate them. I hate them for doing that to you--for doing it to boys whether they want it or not, making them have babies no matter what they want to do." The tears were giving way to anger now. "I don't want to live someplace where they make people do that. It makes me so mad, and I don't know what to do with all that anger. I just. I just want to be a person, and love my family, and find out what I'm good at."
He hugged her again, and she blew her nose and mopped her face. The storm seemed to be over. "So," he ventured. "Local school, then?"
She managed a laugh. "Yes, please."
"Well, all right."
JJ decided he didn't want to attend school. He was already showing a little, and the thought of the boys in his class playing soccer and field hockey and roughhousing the way they did both scared him a little, and made him sad that he wouldn't be joining in on their games. Jensen got him set up with correspondence courses. He wasn't ready to trust JJ on the internet. Email to Glenn or other friends from the states was still too tempting. Jensen would download worksheets for him to work on and send the completed work back himself.
Jared and Mac emailed fairly regularly. They had yet to set up Skype, but they were taking that one slowly. Jason was on a tour of the UK, and he stopped by to visit for a few days. Life was settling into a new pattern.
ten
The phone rang in the dark of very early morning. Jensen managed to find it on the bedside table. "H'lo?"
"Jensen? This is Gerry. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Jared's been injured."
He sat bolt upright in the dark, every nerve awake.
"How bad?"
"It's bad. I'm calling from the hospital. He's going into surgery, and they think his chances are pretty good, but there are no guarantees. I thought you might want to be here."
"Thanks. Thanks for calling. I'm on the next plane."
"Okay."
"Pop?"
"Yes, Jensen."
"If--if he's awake, tell him I'm coming."
He found the light switch, called the airline, got a seat on the first available flight out. He threw some socks and underwear into a backpack, the shaving kit with travel-sized toiletries, jeans, shirts. He threw on some clothes and shoes and as he was easing out of the bedroom, the door down the hall opened.
"Jensen?"
"Hey Mom. Jared's dad just called. Jared's been hurt."
She started to ask questions, and he told her, "No, I don't know exactly how. He's going into surgery right now, and I've got a flight out in two hours, so I'm going to drive myself to the airport. I'll let you guys know something when I get there. Look after the kids--"
His dad joined his mom in the doorway. "Dad, Mom will tell you--"
"I heard. Let me get dressed and I'll drive you. We'll have use of the car and you won't pay parking." Alan disappeared back into the gloom, and dim lamplight flooded the doorway.
"I'll make coffee," his mom said, passing him to head down the stairs.
* * *
Bleachers collapsed, Mac told him, hours later at Jared's bedside. There had been twice as many as they had anticipated at the rally the night before. The weight had caused the supports to buckle. Jared had seen it happen, and had rushed to pull people out of the fallen stands. While he was working to free the trapped leg of a spectator, the rest of the bleachers had fallen on him. Broken leg, broken collarbone, concussion, broken ribs, and collapsed lung. By the time Mac and Robby had gotten Jared free of the rubble, he was not lucid, and was having difficulty breathing. They loaded him in Robby's car and broke land speeds getting him to an ER on the opposite side of town. "Fell off a roof," was the accident of record. Thank god nobody had bothered to ask what Jared had been doing on a roof at ten o'clock at night.
When Jared finally opened his eyes, both bruised black and swollen, Jensen didn't know whether to kiss him or pound him for being heroic and getting hurt.
"Jensen! You're here!"
"Jared. You're a numbskull," Jensen parroted. "Be still," as Jared tried to sit up and reach for him. Jensen moved closer and bent over Jared to kiss him.
"Mm, ow." Jared winced as the kiss pressed on his cut lip.
"The hell were you thinking?" Jensen wanted to know. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? You scared the crap out of me."
"Sorry?" Jared looked like a ten-year-old after a schoolyard scrap. In a small voice, he asked, "What happened?"
He got to go home a couple of days later. Jensen looked around at the house he had left just months prior. It looked--empty.
He rolled the rented wheelchair over to the sofa and helped Jared transfer, propping him up with cushions behind his back. When he was settled satisfactorily, Jensen put the TV remote in his hand and went to look at the rest of the house.
Mac's room was much the same. The bed was slept in, the closet and hamper were both in use. Everything else in the room looked ignored or abandoned. JJ's room and Shannon's had been stripped of almost everything but furniture. Jared and Mac had packed and shipped everything they had written on their lists to them in their new lives in Ireland. The guest room was immaculate and cold, unused for months. The suite he shared with Jared was stripped as well, except for a few pairs of Jared's jeans, a couple of jackets, some tee shirts, socks, underwear.
His studio was as he had left it. He would have to box up the things he wanted to keep and have them shipped so he could have them to work with. He hadn't been doing much work since they'd been in Ireland, but that would have to change. His old bedroom behind the studio was as cold and uninhabited as it had been since he had opened the door to the rest of his life. There was nothing there that he wanted.
He paused at the top of the stairs, wondering how to get Jared up to bed.
"Jensen?"
"Yeah." He went down the stairs, not pausing on the landing.
"I'm just going to sleep down here on the sofa. I don't think I'm going to be able to get up and down those stairs. At least not for a while."
"There's no shower down here. Is your cast going to fit in the half-bath so you can use the toilet?"
"I don't know." Jared reached out a hand for him, and he came closer, sat on the edge of the couch beside Jared's hip. "I don't care. Right now I just want to sleep. And to know where you are." His hand tightened, drew Jensen down for a kiss.
"Missed you so much," Jared whispered. "Wanted you here, in our bed, spread out underneath me." He lifted their clasped hands and kissed Jensen's knuckles, one by one. "Your skin, all freckly and warm. Your breath, that noise you make when I take you. Your heartbeat." He'd managed to slip his hand under the hem of Jensen's shirt and now he pressed his palm to the warm skin of Jensen's chest and left it there, feeling that heartbeat in reality.
"Now you're here," he whispered, the pain meds dragging him down. "And I can't do anything. Want you," he murmured plaintively, nearly asleep. "Want my Jensen."
Jensen smoothed the sweaty hair back from his face with his free hand, still holding Jared's against his heartbeat with the other. "Got me, you ginormous dork. Just give it a couple of days. We'll figure something out."
* * *
The phone rang in the afternoon while Jared was sleeping and Jensen was packing up his studio.
"Hi Gerry. Everything go okay with the flight?"
"Yeah, we landed a couple of hours ago and Shannon picked us up at the airport. You know your daughter is a daredevil driver?" Gerry chuckled. "She wins at chicken on one-lane roads. We didn't have to reverse once."
"Well, I'm glad you got there okay. How's JJ?"
"He's fine. He's really fine. He's in good spirits and he was glad to see us. How's Jared?"
"Better every day."
They talked for a few minutes more, and then signed off. It was good to know Jared's parents were with the kids.
* * *
Jared had exchanged the heavy cast for a walking cast and a cane. The ribs were almost healed, and even the collarbone--the injury that had hurt the most--was better. He had moved upstairs to sleep at night, and as Jensen had promised, they had worked around his injuries to find ways to kiss, and stroke, and finger, and fuck. And Jared was getting stronger and more himself every day.
He and Mac were talking in the kitchen when Jensen came down from boxing up the last of his studio, and Jensen caught just the end of the conversation.
"It's tonight? I didn't realize--"
"Realize what?"
"Hi Dad."
"Hi yourself. What's going on?" He pulled sandwich fixings and a couple of bottles of lemon soda out of the fridge.
Jared and Mac exchanged a glance, and Jared was obviously trying to find something to say.
"Out with it. No secrets. What's going on tonight?"
"There's a big rally, Dad."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Jervis promised a special speaker, and there will be press there." He tried to gauge his dad's reaction. "It's a big deal, and Pop and I need to be there."
Jensen looked up from his sandwich-making. "Oh, no. Your pop is in no shape to be crowd surfing again. Look what happened last time."
Jared huffed in annoyance. "I'll stand somewhere safe, okay? I really want to be at this rally. It's important. I'm going."
Jensen slapped a sandwich down in front of Jared and another before Mac. "Okay," he said, working on a third sandwich. "Count me in. Maybe I can keep you out of the way of falling bleachers."
* * *
There were no bleachers. There was only the graffiti-strewn concrete of a neglected highway underpass, surrounded by scrubby trees, opportunistic nature in a nearly abandoned urban landscape.
A young man, appearing in the flicker of firelight to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, stepped out of the crowd. The light and shadow played across his pleasant features and smooth cocoa colored skin, and the silver frames of his glasses glinted as he moved. Though handsome, there was nothing about him that marked him as different than anyone else, nothing that made him special. His posture and body language were a little reserved, without the swagger most men in their late twenties have by habit and culture. He seemed somewhat more diffident than a man his age should be.
He took the step up onto the milk crate podium, and surveyed the people assembled around the fire. "Hi," he said, and the crowd mumbled "Hi," back. His voice matched his manner: quiet, unassuming. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd, waiting till the murmurs died down.
"I'm Matthew," he told them. "And I'm a ceiver. Or I used to be." The crowd waited, in a hush that felt like a held breath. "I was screened at twelve and taken away to start my training. My parents were sad to see me go; my mom cried. I know she missed me. My dad was brave about it. I had a younger sister, and my grandparents lived with us. Things were tough, and I knew the stipend they got for me would help."
There was a little stirring, a nod or two of affirmation. Others had similar stories to tell. "I learned all I could, worked hard at my classes, did everything that was expected of me, and when I turned eighteen, I met the man of my dreams."
He smiled a little reminiscent smile, but it was edged with sadness. "He was wonderful. Larger than life, an important businessman, wealthy enough to have a home with room for lots of kids. He took such good care of me." Tears clouded his eyes and he paused for a moment to recompose himself. "We were in love. Every day was wonderful, every night even more so. I could not have been happier. I was doing what I had been told was my job, what I'd been trained to do, and I was doing well at it. And then, it got even better. I got pregnant."
Matthew's eyes gleamed, and the smile he shared with everyone was broad and happy. "It was a little boy, the handsomest little boy that anybody ever saw, and two years later, we gave him a beautiful little sister. We were the happiest family. I had no idea anything could ever go wrong." He regarded them all somberly. "But it did."
"My pere fell in love with an executive at his firm. They were excited to be together, they were completely caught up in each other, and…well, he started staying away from home. He'd come home to see the kids, and give me a peck on the cheek, ask how everything was going with the house, leave me money for bills and groceries, and take off again for another week or two."
Tears threatened to spill, but he took a deep breath and blinked them back, and willed the quaver out of his voice. "Then he came home all excited and told me his lover was coming to live with us--and bringing his ceiver, Paul, and their child. We were…all…going to live together. Like…a family."
A babble arose at this turn in his story, and Matthew waited till it died down. "Let me make this short and as painless as possible. In a few months, my pere and his lover were both sleeping with Paul--a threesome, in the bed I used to share with my pere. Paul was soon pregnant, and neither of the peres seemed to care who the father was. Paul had taken over most of the tasks that used to be mine--bill-paying, laundry, cleaning, planning and cooking meals. He even treated my children like his own. Most of the outings and activities were planned for all three kids together. Gradually, he took over my place. My children looked first to him, then to their father, then to his lover, before they came to me.
"And then one afternoon Paul's pere took him and the kids out for the afternoon. My pere called me to him. I was so happy--I thought he'd changed his mind, remembered how good we'd been together, remembered how he'd wanted me. I thought he'd sent everyone else away so we could be alone together." Matthew barked out a hoarse and bitter laugh, and the tears were falling now, unheeded as he shook his head.
"I had never been with anyone but my pere--he was my first, and my only, the only one I ever wanted. Since I'd first been told they were moving into our house, I had dreaded being asked to sleep with Paul's pere. By this time, I would gladly have done that, if it meant that I was part of their family, that I got to stay. But that was never asked of me. My pere told me he was sending me back to Repro to stay until they found another pere for me. That Paul would continue to serve him and his lover, that they would parent the children, and any others to be born, together. That I was no longer wanted. That I was a good ceiver, and it would be no time until someone wanted me, and I would go to a new home and do as well there as I had done for him. And then he dismissed me, without so much as a kiss on the cheek, a hug, or a handshake."
"I had done everything I had been taught to do, willingly, happily. I had given my pere and my children my whole self. And now they were taking my life, my children from me, and I was expected to just--accept it, and walk away. I was to be gone before the kids got back, I had no chance to say goodbye, to tell them I loved them--that might be too upsetting for them. Paul and the peres would tell them when I was gone. I was instructed to call a taxi and go straight to the Repro offices, by myself. He couldn't even be bothered to take me there and say goodbye."
"He gave me cabfare, and I had some cash I'd kept on hand for tips for deliveries and little things for the kids. I got into the cab and rode away, but once I reached downtown, I had the cab stop, and I got out. The cabbie really didn't want to let me get out alone, but I promised him I had an important errand for my pere, just inside the building we'd stopped in front of, so he let me go."
Matthew wiped at his face, clearing the tears away, and faced the crowd again. "I found the nearest thrift shop, bought a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, tee shirts, socks, a jacket, shoes, and a backpack, dressed in the alcove in the back that functioned as a changing room, and bundled the extra clothes and my ceiver clothes into the backpack. I don't know why the people at the shop didn't challenge me, didn't ask any questions. Maybe they'd had other runaways shop there. Maybe they were sympathizers. But they didn't say anything, didn't ask me any questions I couldn't answer. I just paid in cash, picked up the backpack, and walked out."
"I had no idea what I was going to do next. I thought about trying to contact my parents, but if they were going to be able to keep seeing my kids, I thought I'd better not. I wandered around, spent almost the last money I had on a cheeseburger and coffee--"
There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd at the food choices. "And wandered out on the street with no plans, and nowhere to go. All I knew was, I couldn't go through being used like that again. I couldn't invest everything I had in a pere, in a home, in children, that could all be taken away from me in the blink of an eye at someone else's whim. I had no recourse. There was no court I could appeal to to get my kids back, to be compensated for the work I'd done, the--the--life. I had." Matthew stuttered to a stop, his face hidden in his palm. His emotions shook his frame, and another man stepped out of the crowd, wrapped an arm around Matthew and spoke into his ear. Matthew leaned against the man for a few moments, then seemed to settle. He nodded. Again he wiped tears off his face with his fingers, and he raised his face to the crowd and took a deep breath.
"Sorry." He tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. A murmur of sympathy encouraged him to continue. "I wandered around till after dark, and I was trying to decide whether to pay one of the two dollars I had left for a bed in a flophouse, find a men's shelter and risk being discovered and turned in as a runaway, or find some reasonably safe hiding place to spend the night. I saw a bunch of people gathered around an oil drum fire in a vacant lot, and more seemed to be arriving, in ones and twos. In a while, someone stepped out of the crowd and started talking about Repro, and about the movement to shut it down. To liberate the ceivers and end the power the Department holds over the country, the citizens, even the federal government. I stayed to listen, and was shocked, and immensely heartened, to realize that I wasn't really alone, after all.
"I found some friends that night, and have been with them, or others like them, ever since. It's been hard, and some of us have been caught. But I can't do anything else but fight. I have two kids I haven't seen in three years, being raised by someone else in a house where I used to live. I want my kids back--" The crowd yelled out agreement, and Matthew raised his voice and went on. "But I wouldn't take that life back for anything. I want my kids to be proud of the man I've become." Another shout went up from the crowd. Matthew smiled, and continued, his voice growing stronger. "I want to teach them things, and help them stand on their own feet. And if my son turns out to be a ceiver, I want him to have the power to choose what sort of life he's going to have." This time the yell was a roar, and Matthew stood, basking in the crowd's support and approval.
* * *
Jensen was shaking, as the crowd surged and roared around them. He wasn't really aware of the tears that flooded his eyes and streaked his face where it was turned into Jared's shoulder. Jared's arm was around him, holding him tight. "It's okay, Jensen," Jared murmured reassurance against his temple. "It's okay."
Jensen shrugged and moved back so he could look Jared in the face. He scrubbed the tears away with the heels of both palms. "No, it's not," he said. "It's not okay. It never was. Damn Repro. Damn them to hell." When their eyes met, Jared saw a light of battle and determination in Jensen's he'd never seen there before. "I'm tired of being scared, Jared. I'm tired of them ruining people's lives. It's time I stopped being so damned frightened of the bogeyman and started fighting back."
* * *
The three of them finished packing up the house. They stored some things at Jared's parents', and some at Jensen's parents', and shipped the rest to Ireland.
"I have to go back, Jared. I have to be there with JJ. I know what he's going through, being pregnant. I may be the only one who does know, the only one he can talk to, anyway. And I worry about him. He's fine, I know he's fine. Your mom called and told me how he's doing. I know they're taking good care of him, but I need to be there."
"Don't apologize, man," Jared told him. "If anybody feels guilty for not being there it's me. When are you leaving?"
"I thought on Monday?"
Jared nodded.
"Can't you and Mac come too? You know he wants to see you. He misses you both."
"In a few weeks. There's some stuff I started with the movement that I need to see through to the next step, and then I can hand it off to somebody else. If I do that, my conscience is clear, and I can stay till the baby comes, and for a while after."
"You think Mac will come?"
"Will Mac come where?" The person in question carried in a couple of bags of takeout. They'd cleaned out the fridge and the freezer; this would be their last meal in the house. They gathered around the breakfast bar to eat.
"I'll come if I can," Mac said, around a bite of cheeseburger. "I want to be there to welcome my niece or nephew. Don't want to miss it."
They packed up the trash from the takeout and stood looking out at the quarter court, the pool, and around the interior. Everything that showed they'd ever lived here was gone. It felt empty, like they'd already left, already moved on in life. Jared had a room at a residential hotel downtown. It wasn't great, but it was clean enough, and there was a couch for Mac, when he wasn't staying elsewhere, with other people in the movement. There wasn't really anything of value left here. They left through the door to the garage and locked the door. They would drop the keys off at AE in the morning. Tonight there was a rally they didn't want to miss.
* * *
Jensen and Jared stood together at the back of the crowd, in the shadows. Mark addressed the gathering, welcoming all who had come out, and providing some news on recent progress the movement was making. He introduced a new speaker, "Someone we haven't heard from before. But he has some important things to say, so let's give him a warm welcome."
A young man came out of the crowd and stepped up onto the milk crate to speak. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sandy brown hair that curled a little, even cut short, and vivid green eyes looking around at the crowd, he seemed self-possessed and sure of himself beyond his obvious youth. He waited till the crowd quieted, giving him their attention, before he started to speak.
"I'm here for my dad, and the life he had taken away from him by Repro. I'm grateful to be here, I'm grateful for my siblings, and for the wonderful dad he's been. But he should have been free to choose this life, or not.
"I'm here for my pop, who's done everything he ever could to support his family, no matter what we needed, or what we wanted to do. None of us would have made it through some pretty tough times without my pop.
"I'm here for my little brother, who I don't know when I'll ever see again, and the niece or nephew I may never get to meet. I want that child--and all children--to grow up in a world where they're free to work toward whatever they want to be in life, free to be with their families.
"I want families not to be torn apart by a government juggernaut that cares nothing for the lives of citizens, only that those lives increase. I want children to grow up in their homes, not to be taken and trained, and awarded like trophies to people the Department chooses." The crowd had started to murmur. The gathered voices rose like waves after each new exhortation. Mac raised his voice to be heard above the crowd.
"And I don't want to wait any longer for it. Things have to change--they're already changing. Let's not be discouraged or turned aside in our work, let's continue to insist on change, on making things right. Let's not fail in our fight! We have to keep working for freedom!"
A background noise grew slowly above the crowd noise, and Mac was shouting to be heard. Suddenly a wind swirled through the underpass, throwing dust and trash into the air, and the sound resolved as a helicopter when a brilliant light speared down from the sky. "This is the police!" a loudspeaker grated out, while people ducked and scattered in all directions. Jared and Jensen saw Mac scurry away into dark shadows beyond the searchlight as they hurried in the opposite direction. "Everyone here, stay right where you are!" the loudspeaker growled again, and now the sound of sirens was growing loud and close.
"Here!" Jared said, pulling Jensen after him into an alley, at the end of which was a door that looked as though it had been locked and left for a long time. Jared twisted the handle, and it gave with an oiled smoothness; the two of them ducked into velvet darkness, and a quiet that belied the noise and confusion outside.
"Where?" Jensen wanted to know.
"Stay here,"Jared said. Jensen could hear him limping a few steps on his cane, and then there was the scratch of a match, and the sputter and glow of a candle.
"Looks like we're safe," Jared said. He raised the candle to reveal a row of cots, neatly made with sheets, blankets and pillows.
"What is this place?"
"Way station for rescues and runaways," Jared told him. "Looks like we have a couple of hours before we can make it back to the car." He set the candle down and walked close to Jensen, right up in his space, breathing his air. "Got any ideas how we can pass the time?"
* * *
epilogue
three years later
Shannon chased Seamus around the garden, both of them doing a bad job of hiding, but enjoying the pounce of "finding" the hider. Seamus had the best giggle: it lit up his bright blue eyes, and scrunched up his nose with the freckles scattered across it. Shannon was convinced there had never been a cuter nephew. She tickled him and his giggles turned to shouts of glee. She swooped him up from his hiding place behind the rosebush and was about to carry him inside for bathtime and supper, when someone cleared their throat.
There was a young man at the gate, a stranger. Tall, with brown hair and eyes, a day's worth of sparse, unshaven scruff. He was nice enough looking, dressed in good walking clothes, rather than in a suit and tie. "Hello," he said.
"Hello."
"You're Shannon, aren't you? I remember you. Is JJ here?"
He had an American accent, and Shannon felt a faint buzz of alarm. Why would a strange American appear out of nowhere at their doorstep?
"Do I know you?" she asked. Seamus wiggled where she held him on her hip, and peeked around her to look at the stranger.
"Shannon, it's me. I'm Robby," he smiled a little hesitantly.
"Robby?" JJ's little friend from school? The one he'd been inseparable friends with until--
"Yeah, it's me."
"Oh!" She set Seamus down and moved to open the gate, pulling Robby in for a hug. "My, it's been awhile," she said.
He grinned. "Yeah, I know. And I've grown."
"You sure have."
"So," he asked again. "Is JJ here? I've kind of come a long way to see him."
End
Author's note: First of all, I have to thank![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wendy and thehighwaywoman for all their dedicated hard work organizing this challenge and cat-herding the participants. It's an effort far above and beyond duty, and you make it look easy.
I couldn't ask for a more patient and supportive beta thanspn_j2fan. From the moment, back in the dark days of January, when I got an itch to write a little more, to explore "what next," she was there to kick around ideas, directions, and possible plot points. It was her extrapolation and brainstorming that gave me the courage to sign up for BB this year, with the idea in mind I could always default on the first draft if it didn't pan out. Her tough calls, honest opinion, and unflagging encouragement that never gave up on the story, or on me, even when I didn't know what the next word would be, made this story possible. Me: when in doubt, list things. spn_j2fan: No lists! You should all be grateful.
My thanks to a small choir of cheerleaders--and yes I know cheerleaders don't come in choirs, I don't care--you know who you are. Also tomeus_venator for a last-minute emergency tech assist. Thanks!
My fabulous artistbflyw did the art for my Big Bang last year, and I know her work was a strong visual connection for the story--people have even remarked on remembering the story by her amazing art. I was so incredibly lucky she was eager to work with me again. She's outdone herself; her art this year is completely different, unique, evocative, and perfectly in key with this particular story. I'm so grateful--she is also the one to thank for the awesome PDF and E-files. Please check her art post and tell her how wonderful she is!
And if you've got this far, thank you for reading! I always felt that More Than Words was at heart Jensen's story. More Than Us is Jared's.
Masterpost | Comments?
chapters 9-10, epilogue
Jensen was up early the next morning. Jet lag wasn't fun, but there were things that had to happen, so he forged through it. He contacted the local solicitor the family had worked with before about their dual citizenship. The man had a few moments he could spare, so Jensen went to his office, briefly discussed JJ's situation, and the solicitor agreed it would be best to file JJ's Irish citizenship quickly, voluntarily relinquishing his US citizenship at the same time. Jensen called his dad's cousin Mairead, who lived in a town to the south. She was happy to hear from him, and wasn't fazed at all by his inviting himself for a visit just before lunch.
The family had gotten to know her, and she them, when they had lived here. She was a very pretty woman, about his mother's age or a little younger, and she welcomed him with a hug and insisted he stay for lunch. He was frank with her, presenting JJ's situation, and the fact that having a resident citizen of Ireland as his legal guardian would smooth possible bumps in JJ's path. She thought about it over tuna sandwiches and tea, and gave her agreement, along with the chocolate biscuits for dessert. Jensen told her the solicitor would soon have papers for her to sign, and left her with a promise he and his children would bring them by themselves and have a visit.
He drove the rental car back to their little hotel to find both his kids just finishing lunch in the dining room. Shannon rolled her eyes, as the first words out of JJ's mouth were, "Dad! I need to call Glenn!" Apparently this wasn't the first time she'd heard those words today.
Jensen managed to both stall and soothe JJ, recommending he wait until he had seen a doctor and they were sure he was pregnant, how far along, and had a better idea of how they should proceed from there. JJ wasn't happy with that plan, but lunch began to disagree with him, so Jensen took him up to their room and sent Shannon to shop for saltines. JJ managed to keep his lunch, but he was tired and jet-lagged, and Jensen made him lie down for a nap. When Shannon returned with the crackers, he asked her to keep an eye on her brother and left the room so he could look up doctors in the local directory.
The family doctor they had all seen before was still in practice, and Jensen managed to get him on the phone. Dr. Farrell didn't think an obstetric specialist was necessary for an initial exam, or even for early care as long as there were no problems. And certainly he could see JJ in the next day or two.
Just as Jensen disconnected with Dr. Farrell, his phone rang. It was Jared.
Reassured they had all arrived well, JJ was fine, and the wheels were in motion to instate his citizenship, Jared had news of his own.
"I got your parents and mine, and Jeff and your sister Mac over here for supper after you left, and told them about JJ."
"How'd they take it?"
"Well, they're excited. They're also worried Repro's going to snatch him. I told them our plans so far, and they're all on board. Your mom and mine were working out a visiting roster when they left."
"A what?"
"Sort of a rotation calendar, where everybody visits for a week or two, so there's always somebody there to help out."
"I…huh. I don't know what to say to that. I don't think we're actually going to need help…"
"Well, I think a lot of it is them not wanting to lose touch with JJ, and wanting to meet the new baby. Surrounding them--and you--with family. At least that was the feeling I got about it."
Jensen's eyes stung with unexpected tears. He cleared his throat. "That's really sweet," he said.
"Yeah," Jared agreed. "It really is." He changed the subject. "So, Mac and I are flying out tonight; we have a rental car booked, and we should be there by morning."
Jensen's sense of relief was palpable. He swayed where he stood, just knowing Jared would soon be here to help get through this.
"I'm glad," was all he said. And then, "How'd Mac take the news?"
It was Jared's turn to clear his throat. "He wasn't actually surprised, once he had some time to think about it. But he's gotten really grim and protective. I had to call him off going after Glenn, and make him promise to stay away from him."
"Oh lord, that's all we need."
Jared huffed out an ironic laugh, "I know, right? It was kind of scary there for a minute, but he simmered down pretty quickly when I reminded him what would happen if Glenn reported him and why, and Repro got involved. He backed right down."
"Good," Jensen was relieved.
"Yeah, really. I'd suspect he might do something underhanded and anonymous--only then Glenn wouldn't know why he was getting the crap beat out of him."
"Jared--"
Jared was quick to reassure. "It won't happen, Jensen." He changed the subject. "Listen, we'll be there tomorrow. I miss you. It's only been a day, but you're a long way away, and I miss you. The kids too, but I miss you."
Jensen couldn't speak for a second, the distance between them looming wide. "Tomorrow, man. We'll see you both tomorrow. Love you, Jared."
"Yeah." The voice in his ear was suddenly a little hoarse. "Love you too. Kiss the kids."
"You can kiss them yourself, tomorrow."
"Do it anyway," Jared insisted.
Jensen grinned. "I will. Safe flight. Get here soon." He had to hang up, but it was hard to let go.
* * *
Jensen woke the next morning with a warm body snugged up behind him. The beds were narrow, two to a room, and JJ slept in the other one. Jensen stretched a little and pushed back against the solid, warm weight.
"When did you get in?"
"Not long. Half an hour," Jared murmured into the nape of his neck.
Jensen turned in place to face Jared, whose eyelids had started to droop. "Nuh uh," he scolded gently. "None of that. Jet-lag's a monster, but we can nap this afternoon while the kids are out."
Jared rubbed his nose along Jensen's. "Mmm," he said, with a happy note and a lazy thrust of his hips that promised more than sleep. "Nap."
"Pop?" came a voice from the other bed.
"Yeah, bud, it's me."
JJ started to sit up, but Jensen reminded him, "Crackers, Jadge. On the nightstand."
"Sucks," JJ complained, but there was the rattle of the plastic wrapper as he got a couple of saltines to munch.
Jared rolled out of bed and went over to give him a kiss and sit while he finished the crackers. Jensen put a can of ginger ale in his hand and, so fortified, JJ sat up and hugged his papa.
Being in the village was familiar and comfortable, like old times. At a nod from their parents, Mac and Shannon decided to take a walk and see if they could run across old friends, which left Jared and Jensen alone with JJ.
They went back to the room Jensen and JJ were sharing. This was going to be a difficult discussion, and they needed some privacy.
Jared began. "Robby came by yesterday to check on you. He said to tell you hi."
"Okay." JJ didn’t sound interested; that wasn't the person he wanted to hear from. "Did Glenn come by? Did he call? Did you find my phone, 'cause I need to call him."
Jared exchanged a glance with Jensen, who nodded his agreement. Now was the time to give JJ the hard truth.
"JJ, you can't call Glenn."
"What? But--"
"Jadge, he's right," Jensen said. "Listen to him."
"I know you want to tell him about the baby," Jared began, and JJ nodded. "I know you think it's his right to know, and maybe under other circumstances, it would be. But as things stand, you can't tell him. Ever."
JJ blanched, the color drained from his face. "Pop? What are you saying--?" He turned a puzzled, pleading look on Jensen. "Dad?"
"He's right, Jadge, and I'm sorry," Jensen agreed. "But this is the way it has to be.
"Glenn's the father, so he will have sole custody when the baby's born--or, actually, his parents will, since Glenn's not legally an adult. You, well, Repro will take you for training. You won't see your baby, you won't see us, except when we're allowed to visit. And when you're trained you'll be assigned to a stranger who'll be your pere."
"JJ, if this is what you want," Jared said when Jensen stopped. "If this is the life you want, then we'll go home. We'll call Glenn and you can tell him, and he'll tell his parents, and they'll call Repro, and they will come and get you and keep you somewhere comfortable and safe till the baby's born."
Jensen added, "If Glenn and his family don't want the responsibility of raising the baby, Repro will adopt it out to a couple who can't have their own children. This baby will be loved and well taken care of, but he or she will never know you, or our family. We'll never see your baby."
"But why can't you keep her?" JJ sobbed. "You could raise her--you're the baby's family!"
Jared sat down on the bed beside his son and hugged him. "JJ, we would be so glad to, but the law says children belong to the father. As far as the Department's concerned, you're an undeclared ceiver, which is against the law. As your family, we've been helping you break the law, and they would never allow us to keep your baby."
"It's not fair!" he wailed, and Jared rocked him like the little boy he'd been not so long ago.
"No, Jadge, it's not," Jensen agreed. "But it is what it is, and we can't change it."
"I don't want to give her up!" JJ sobbed. "It's my baby, I don't want to give her up."
Jared stroked the sweat-damp hair off JJ's forehead and brushed the tears away. "We don't want that either," he assured his son.
"But Jadge," Jensen persisted. "If you tell Glenn, that's what's going to happen."
The boy was silent for a few minutes, thinking hard. Jensen reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand and offered it to JJ, who blew his nose and wiped his eyes, and took a deep breath. He gulped back more sobs, and nodded, meeting Jensen's eyes.
"Okay," he said. "Okay."
"We have to stay here," Jensen told him. "We're moving here to live. I've already filed to make you an Irish citizen and relinquish your US citizenship. They can't touch you once that's official."
"I can't go back?"
"Not now," Jared told him. "Maybe someday. We're working on it. But not yet."
Jared hugged him tighter, then got off the bed and went to the mini-fridge for water, poured it into one of the plastic courtesy cups for JJ, and offered what was left in the bottle to Jensen. Jensen waved him off, so Jared finished the bottle.
Jensen took note how drained JJ was. "Okay, how about you take a little nap?" he suggested. "You'll feel better when you wake up."
There was no resistance. JJ was done, for now. "Okay," he nodded.
Jensen flipped the pillow over so his face would rest on the dry, cool side. He pulled the light blanket up over him and kissed his forehead. "We'll be right downstairs when you wake up," he promised. JJ nodded, and was probably asleep before his parents left the room.
* * *
It was lunch time, and though neither of them felt hungry, when the food arrived Jared realized he was famished. Talking to JJ had taken a lot out of him. As they were finishing up over lagers, Mac and Shannon arrived, and joined them for lunch. They had run into several people they knew, and had walked by their old house just for old times' sake. New people were living there now.
"Where do we want to live, Dad?" Shannon asked, and Jensen realized he hadn't even thought about it.
"Probably something similar to our old place," he began, but Mac cleared his throat.
"I won't need a room," he said, his chin coming up in anticipation of a fight. "So you can look for a smaller place."
"Mac? What are you talking about?"
"I'm not staying," he said, simply. "Pop? What are you going to do?"
Jared took his time, but he finally nodded. He had a little trouble meeting Jensen's eyes. "I think I have to go home, Jensen. Back to the states."
"What?" Jensen was completely blindsided. "I thought we were moving back here, as a family, for JJ." His voice registered how upset he was with this turn of events. "What are you guys--" He shook his head. "No," he said, the word coming out with explosive force. "No way. You two are not going back to get deeper involved and get yourselves arrested! Or hurt! Or both!"
He stood and threw his napkin down on the table. Jared reached out and clamped a hand on his arm. "Jensen, calm down. We're just talking. This is the first chance we've had for all of us to talk about this. You've been running on high to get JJ safe. Well, now he is, so we have to figure out where we go from here."
Jensen resisted for another moment, but Shannon said, "Dad?" He relented, and took his seat, and met his daughter's eyes. "I want to stay," she said. "I'm staying with JJ."
"Okay," he told her. "Good." He looked daggers at his husband and elder son, waiting for either of them to say something.
"Jensen, we have to go. Things are starting to happen at home, Repro's grip is starting to crack. We're at the point of maybe being able to force changes in the law, if we can't topple the Department entirely. And if I can help make that happen, I can't walk away."
"Jared, he's your son. He's pregnant, he's never going to see his lover and the father of his kid again, he's away from home, he's scared, he's confused. He needs his family, he needs both of you. And you're going to leave him?"
"If I do this, then maybe someday my son can come home. Maybe everybody's sons can have a better life."
"We have to try, Dad," Mac said. "I love JJ, but I have to work for his chance to live the way he wants to. Him and all the others."
Jensen looked at both of them. "So the two of you are going back, and Shannon and I are supposed to let you? Somebody has to be with JJ, he's going to need his family."
"You'll be here for him, Jensen." Jared said, and smiled at his daughter. "You both will. And the grandparents and aunts and uncles will be coming, too. You guys won't be by yourselves."
"Jared." Jensen could hardly speak. "This is our son. He needs you. I need you."
One look at his husband's face, and words deserted Jared. Jensen waited a moment, and then stood. Without a word, he walked out of the restaurant, out of the hotel, into the bright afternoon, and just kept walking.
They booked another room for Mac and Jared. Jared assumed Mac would share with JJ and Jensen would move into his room, for as long as they were staying, but Jensen refused.
"Somebody needs to be with JJ."
"Mac will be with JJ." Jared moved up behind his husband, pressing his chest close against his back, rubbing his groin against Jensen's ass. He wrapped his arms around Jensen and nuzzled into his neck below his ear, that spot that always made him gasp and press back against Jared. Not this time. Jensen eeled quickly out of Jared's grasp and out of reach.
"Mac won't know what to do if he's sick," Jensen said. "He won't make him eat crackers before he gets up, or bring him ginger ale. I need to take care of JJ."
Jared reached and caught his arm. "Jensen." Jensen pulled loose and moved away again, not meeting Jared's eyes, not even looking at him.
"Are you mad?" Jared had the nerve to be surprised. "Is that what this is? You're mad at me? What, you're punishing me now because I decided not to stay here?"
"You made up your own mind. I had nothing to say about that. I'm just trying to get things settled for my kids. A place to live, JJ has to see the doctor tomorrow. We have to get the papers for Mairead to sign from the solicitor and go visit her in the next day or two. I'm busy, Jared," Jensen snapped.
"I can see that," Jared said. He wanted to respond in kind, but he held himself back. Jensen had a right to be upset. "It's going to be okay, you know. JJ's going to be fine. You and Nonni will be happy here, too. You don't need us to help you cope, Jensen."
"No." Jensen's eyes did meet his, then, a laser-flare of green. "No, what I need is to be deserted. For me and our son to be left to get through this huge life event by ourselves, and to have my husband and my son on the other side of an ocean, getting involved with illegal activities and putting themselves at risk. Dear Santa, take a note, that's exactly what I want." As Jared reached for him again, the ice in his voice would have frozen a lesser man. "Get your hands off me, Padalecki. You're already gone."
And Jared would not let that stand. He grabbed Jensen and pulled him in tight as Jensen struggled. He leaned down and growled in Jensen's ear, "Do you want me to let Mac go back alone, then?"
That had the intended effect. Jensen stopped still. Jared didn't let go. "He will go whether we let him, or not. He's in it, Jensen. He wants it, he's a believer, and he won't be stopped."
Jensen wriggled. "He can't--"
"He will. No matter what we do, short of locking him up. Now, do you want to let him go alone? Or do you want me to go and keep an eye on him? Try to keep him out of the worst of it, keep him safe?"
He could feel it as Jensen relaxed, as he relented and let Jared take some of his weight. "I don't want you to go," Jensen said.
"I know." Jared loosened his grip and Jensen's arms went around him.
Jared and Mac went with them to see Mairead and have her sign as JJ's guardian. Jensen and Jared retained their dual citizenship, as did Mac and Shannon. "The only real Irishman of the bunch!" Mairead smiled and hugged JJ.
Jared went with JJ and Jensen to his doctor's appointment. "Everything's perfectly normal," Dr. Farrell assured them. He gave JJ a list of vitamins and supplements to start taking, and told him to rest and avoid foods that triggered the nausea. That should ease up when he reached his second trimester, he told JJ, welcome news.
Mac and Jared left at the end of the week. Mac spent the last night in JJ's room, and it was questionable whether any of the kids slept, since Shannon joined them and they talked late into the night.
Jensen laid Jared out and kissed him from neck to knees, making sure to hit the ticklish spots. He lay between Jared's legs and took him in hand, licking over the head of his cock and blowing a cool stream of air over the wet skin before swallowing him down, teasing him with tongue and teeth and a slow, tantalizing slide till his chin brushed Jared's balls. When Jared was hissing and groaning between clenched teeth and Jensen could feel he was on the edge, he pulled off and climbed up to straddle Jared, reaching back to set the head of Jared's cock against his entrance, pre-slicked for just this moment. Eyes locked on Jared's, Jensen lowered himself by inches, grinding down in slow circles. Jared groaned and put hands on Jensen's hips, begging him to move, to take more, but letting Jensen move at his own pace. Soon enough, he was bottomed out, and Jared started rutting up into him, as Jensen ground down and pulled up an inch, and back down, again, and again. Gazes locked, breath pumping in and out of each other's lungs, they each held back as long as they could, and then Jared groaned and pulled Jensen down hard on his cock and held him there. Jensen felt him spurt and ground down harder, riding him until he too came all over Jared's belly. Careless of the mess, he sank to lie on top of Jared, both of them breathless, hearts slowing.
Jared opened his lips to say, "I love you." But Jensen stopped the words with his fingers. He eased off and used his boxers to clean them up, rolled Jared onto his side and snugged up against his back, his arm around Jared and his hand on Jared's chest. He could feel Jared's heartbeat--or maybe it was his own--pressed hard against Jared's back. It didn't matter which; they breathed in the same rhythm, and slid silently into sleep.
* * *
Jensen hugged his eldest tight the next morning, whispering, "Stay safe." He watched as Shannon and JJ hugged their papa. He and Jared shared a quick hug, and no words. They already knew everything the other would have had to say, and both of them were on the edge of tears. Father and son piled into Jensen's rental and headed for the airport and home.
Home. Jensen and the kids looked for a house, and found one on the outskirts of the village, an older place, full of drafts and charm. But it was comfortable for three, and there was space for visitors, so they took it. Jensen and the kids started lists of things they wanted shipped from their house in the states, and things they could likely pick up locally, secondhand. Jensen bought a car, just a small thing that would carry three people, an eventual car seat, and groceries on narrow country lanes.
They settled into village life.
* * *
The weeks flew by, filled with getting reacquainted with their friends and neighbors, the shipments of things from the stateside house, and visiting relatives. Both sets of grandparents came, and stayed for a while. Jared's mom and Jensen's had gotten together and worked out a loose schedule so that someone would be visiting almost continuously. It gave Jensen adult company, someone to talk to about his fears and frustrations and worries over the kids, over Jared, over Mac, and someone to relieve his constant attention to JJ. It also gave the kids someone to complain to besides Dad, a second source of opinion or advice. Fall approached, and time to get Shannon registered for school. He asked her, was she sure she didn't want to go back to the school in the states for her senior year? Donna was spending the afternoon with JJ, so Jensen and Shannon went for a walk outside the village.
"We'll be okay, Nonni, Jadge and I, if you want to go back." Jensen told his daughter.
Shannon found a seat on a rock wall, and gazed off across a hilly pasture, giving him her profile. "I'm scared to go back there, Dad," she said, her voice small, weighted with a confession she'd held onto for a while.
"Scared? Why scared, honey?"
"They're getting closer to testing girls. I..." Her lashes were glazed with tears; he tracked one down the cheek closest to him. "I wanted babies, I thought."
He nodded. He'd been aware of her interest in children.
"I thought I was jealous of ceivers, because they could have babies. I hoped, someday, far away in the future, I could have my own when I got married. But I don't know if I can."
She glanced at him and quickly away again. "If they start testing girls, and I find out I can have babies--I wanted to be happy, if that was true." She hiccupped on a sob, pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose.
"But I don't want--" She gulped, and swallowed down a sob. "I don't want to be handed to some stranger to make babies, Daddy. I don't want to!" And there were the sobs, and the flood of tears. He sat beside her and pulled her in against him, wrapping her up and rocking her in his arms.
"Shh, shh, baby girl. It's all right. It's okay." He murmured comforting nonsense at her until she'd cried herself out a little. She stirred and pulled back, and he let her go. She wiped her face and blew her nose again.
"I'm a terrible coward," she hiccupped. Her gaze met his. "I know about you, Dad. I know you're my birth parent. I kind of guessed some of it, and when Mac and I were talking, I asked and he told me the rest."
"Nonni--" He hardly knew what to say.
"I'm so sorry, Dad, that they could do that to you. I don't know how you got through it. I hate them. I hate them for doing that to you--for doing it to boys whether they want it or not, making them have babies no matter what they want to do." The tears were giving way to anger now. "I don't want to live someplace where they make people do that. It makes me so mad, and I don't know what to do with all that anger. I just. I just want to be a person, and love my family, and find out what I'm good at."
He hugged her again, and she blew her nose and mopped her face. The storm seemed to be over. "So," he ventured. "Local school, then?"
She managed a laugh. "Yes, please."
"Well, all right."
JJ decided he didn't want to attend school. He was already showing a little, and the thought of the boys in his class playing soccer and field hockey and roughhousing the way they did both scared him a little, and made him sad that he wouldn't be joining in on their games. Jensen got him set up with correspondence courses. He wasn't ready to trust JJ on the internet. Email to Glenn or other friends from the states was still too tempting. Jensen would download worksheets for him to work on and send the completed work back himself.
Jared and Mac emailed fairly regularly. They had yet to set up Skype, but they were taking that one slowly. Jason was on a tour of the UK, and he stopped by to visit for a few days. Life was settling into a new pattern.
The phone rang in the dark of very early morning. Jensen managed to find it on the bedside table. "H'lo?"
"Jensen? This is Gerry. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Jared's been injured."
He sat bolt upright in the dark, every nerve awake.
"How bad?"
"It's bad. I'm calling from the hospital. He's going into surgery, and they think his chances are pretty good, but there are no guarantees. I thought you might want to be here."
"Thanks. Thanks for calling. I'm on the next plane."
"Okay."
"Pop?"
"Yes, Jensen."
"If--if he's awake, tell him I'm coming."
He found the light switch, called the airline, got a seat on the first available flight out. He threw some socks and underwear into a backpack, the shaving kit with travel-sized toiletries, jeans, shirts. He threw on some clothes and shoes and as he was easing out of the bedroom, the door down the hall opened.
"Jensen?"
"Hey Mom. Jared's dad just called. Jared's been hurt."
She started to ask questions, and he told her, "No, I don't know exactly how. He's going into surgery right now, and I've got a flight out in two hours, so I'm going to drive myself to the airport. I'll let you guys know something when I get there. Look after the kids--"
His dad joined his mom in the doorway. "Dad, Mom will tell you--"
"I heard. Let me get dressed and I'll drive you. We'll have use of the car and you won't pay parking." Alan disappeared back into the gloom, and dim lamplight flooded the doorway.
"I'll make coffee," his mom said, passing him to head down the stairs.
* * *
Bleachers collapsed, Mac told him, hours later at Jared's bedside. There had been twice as many as they had anticipated at the rally the night before. The weight had caused the supports to buckle. Jared had seen it happen, and had rushed to pull people out of the fallen stands. While he was working to free the trapped leg of a spectator, the rest of the bleachers had fallen on him. Broken leg, broken collarbone, concussion, broken ribs, and collapsed lung. By the time Mac and Robby had gotten Jared free of the rubble, he was not lucid, and was having difficulty breathing. They loaded him in Robby's car and broke land speeds getting him to an ER on the opposite side of town. "Fell off a roof," was the accident of record. Thank god nobody had bothered to ask what Jared had been doing on a roof at ten o'clock at night.
When Jared finally opened his eyes, both bruised black and swollen, Jensen didn't know whether to kiss him or pound him for being heroic and getting hurt.
"Jensen! You're here!"
"Jared. You're a numbskull," Jensen parroted. "Be still," as Jared tried to sit up and reach for him. Jensen moved closer and bent over Jared to kiss him.
"Mm, ow." Jared winced as the kiss pressed on his cut lip.
"The hell were you thinking?" Jensen wanted to know. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? You scared the crap out of me."
"Sorry?" Jared looked like a ten-year-old after a schoolyard scrap. In a small voice, he asked, "What happened?"
He got to go home a couple of days later. Jensen looked around at the house he had left just months prior. It looked--empty.
He rolled the rented wheelchair over to the sofa and helped Jared transfer, propping him up with cushions behind his back. When he was settled satisfactorily, Jensen put the TV remote in his hand and went to look at the rest of the house.
Mac's room was much the same. The bed was slept in, the closet and hamper were both in use. Everything else in the room looked ignored or abandoned. JJ's room and Shannon's had been stripped of almost everything but furniture. Jared and Mac had packed and shipped everything they had written on their lists to them in their new lives in Ireland. The guest room was immaculate and cold, unused for months. The suite he shared with Jared was stripped as well, except for a few pairs of Jared's jeans, a couple of jackets, some tee shirts, socks, underwear.
His studio was as he had left it. He would have to box up the things he wanted to keep and have them shipped so he could have them to work with. He hadn't been doing much work since they'd been in Ireland, but that would have to change. His old bedroom behind the studio was as cold and uninhabited as it had been since he had opened the door to the rest of his life. There was nothing there that he wanted.
He paused at the top of the stairs, wondering how to get Jared up to bed.
"Jensen?"
"Yeah." He went down the stairs, not pausing on the landing.
"I'm just going to sleep down here on the sofa. I don't think I'm going to be able to get up and down those stairs. At least not for a while."
"There's no shower down here. Is your cast going to fit in the half-bath so you can use the toilet?"
"I don't know." Jared reached out a hand for him, and he came closer, sat on the edge of the couch beside Jared's hip. "I don't care. Right now I just want to sleep. And to know where you are." His hand tightened, drew Jensen down for a kiss.
"Missed you so much," Jared whispered. "Wanted you here, in our bed, spread out underneath me." He lifted their clasped hands and kissed Jensen's knuckles, one by one. "Your skin, all freckly and warm. Your breath, that noise you make when I take you. Your heartbeat." He'd managed to slip his hand under the hem of Jensen's shirt and now he pressed his palm to the warm skin of Jensen's chest and left it there, feeling that heartbeat in reality.
"Now you're here," he whispered, the pain meds dragging him down. "And I can't do anything. Want you," he murmured plaintively, nearly asleep. "Want my Jensen."
Jensen smoothed the sweaty hair back from his face with his free hand, still holding Jared's against his heartbeat with the other. "Got me, you ginormous dork. Just give it a couple of days. We'll figure something out."
* * *
The phone rang in the afternoon while Jared was sleeping and Jensen was packing up his studio.
"Hi Gerry. Everything go okay with the flight?"
"Yeah, we landed a couple of hours ago and Shannon picked us up at the airport. You know your daughter is a daredevil driver?" Gerry chuckled. "She wins at chicken on one-lane roads. We didn't have to reverse once."
"Well, I'm glad you got there okay. How's JJ?"
"He's fine. He's really fine. He's in good spirits and he was glad to see us. How's Jared?"
"Better every day."
They talked for a few minutes more, and then signed off. It was good to know Jared's parents were with the kids.
* * *
Jared had exchanged the heavy cast for a walking cast and a cane. The ribs were almost healed, and even the collarbone--the injury that had hurt the most--was better. He had moved upstairs to sleep at night, and as Jensen had promised, they had worked around his injuries to find ways to kiss, and stroke, and finger, and fuck. And Jared was getting stronger and more himself every day.
He and Mac were talking in the kitchen when Jensen came down from boxing up the last of his studio, and Jensen caught just the end of the conversation.
"It's tonight? I didn't realize--"
"Realize what?"
"Hi Dad."
"Hi yourself. What's going on?" He pulled sandwich fixings and a couple of bottles of lemon soda out of the fridge.
Jared and Mac exchanged a glance, and Jared was obviously trying to find something to say.
"Out with it. No secrets. What's going on tonight?"
"There's a big rally, Dad."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Jervis promised a special speaker, and there will be press there." He tried to gauge his dad's reaction. "It's a big deal, and Pop and I need to be there."
Jensen looked up from his sandwich-making. "Oh, no. Your pop is in no shape to be crowd surfing again. Look what happened last time."
Jared huffed in annoyance. "I'll stand somewhere safe, okay? I really want to be at this rally. It's important. I'm going."
Jensen slapped a sandwich down in front of Jared and another before Mac. "Okay," he said, working on a third sandwich. "Count me in. Maybe I can keep you out of the way of falling bleachers."
* * *
There were no bleachers. There was only the graffiti-strewn concrete of a neglected highway underpass, surrounded by scrubby trees, opportunistic nature in a nearly abandoned urban landscape.
A young man, appearing in the flicker of firelight to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, stepped out of the crowd. The light and shadow played across his pleasant features and smooth cocoa colored skin, and the silver frames of his glasses glinted as he moved. Though handsome, there was nothing about him that marked him as different than anyone else, nothing that made him special. His posture and body language were a little reserved, without the swagger most men in their late twenties have by habit and culture. He seemed somewhat more diffident than a man his age should be.
He took the step up onto the milk crate podium, and surveyed the people assembled around the fire. "Hi," he said, and the crowd mumbled "Hi," back. His voice matched his manner: quiet, unassuming. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd, waiting till the murmurs died down.
"I'm Matthew," he told them. "And I'm a ceiver. Or I used to be." The crowd waited, in a hush that felt like a held breath. "I was screened at twelve and taken away to start my training. My parents were sad to see me go; my mom cried. I know she missed me. My dad was brave about it. I had a younger sister, and my grandparents lived with us. Things were tough, and I knew the stipend they got for me would help."
There was a little stirring, a nod or two of affirmation. Others had similar stories to tell. "I learned all I could, worked hard at my classes, did everything that was expected of me, and when I turned eighteen, I met the man of my dreams."
He smiled a little reminiscent smile, but it was edged with sadness. "He was wonderful. Larger than life, an important businessman, wealthy enough to have a home with room for lots of kids. He took such good care of me." Tears clouded his eyes and he paused for a moment to recompose himself. "We were in love. Every day was wonderful, every night even more so. I could not have been happier. I was doing what I had been told was my job, what I'd been trained to do, and I was doing well at it. And then, it got even better. I got pregnant."
Matthew's eyes gleamed, and the smile he shared with everyone was broad and happy. "It was a little boy, the handsomest little boy that anybody ever saw, and two years later, we gave him a beautiful little sister. We were the happiest family. I had no idea anything could ever go wrong." He regarded them all somberly. "But it did."
"My pere fell in love with an executive at his firm. They were excited to be together, they were completely caught up in each other, and…well, he started staying away from home. He'd come home to see the kids, and give me a peck on the cheek, ask how everything was going with the house, leave me money for bills and groceries, and take off again for another week or two."
Tears threatened to spill, but he took a deep breath and blinked them back, and willed the quaver out of his voice. "Then he came home all excited and told me his lover was coming to live with us--and bringing his ceiver, Paul, and their child. We were…all…going to live together. Like…a family."
A babble arose at this turn in his story, and Matthew waited till it died down. "Let me make this short and as painless as possible. In a few months, my pere and his lover were both sleeping with Paul--a threesome, in the bed I used to share with my pere. Paul was soon pregnant, and neither of the peres seemed to care who the father was. Paul had taken over most of the tasks that used to be mine--bill-paying, laundry, cleaning, planning and cooking meals. He even treated my children like his own. Most of the outings and activities were planned for all three kids together. Gradually, he took over my place. My children looked first to him, then to their father, then to his lover, before they came to me.
"And then one afternoon Paul's pere took him and the kids out for the afternoon. My pere called me to him. I was so happy--I thought he'd changed his mind, remembered how good we'd been together, remembered how he'd wanted me. I thought he'd sent everyone else away so we could be alone together." Matthew barked out a hoarse and bitter laugh, and the tears were falling now, unheeded as he shook his head.
"I had never been with anyone but my pere--he was my first, and my only, the only one I ever wanted. Since I'd first been told they were moving into our house, I had dreaded being asked to sleep with Paul's pere. By this time, I would gladly have done that, if it meant that I was part of their family, that I got to stay. But that was never asked of me. My pere told me he was sending me back to Repro to stay until they found another pere for me. That Paul would continue to serve him and his lover, that they would parent the children, and any others to be born, together. That I was no longer wanted. That I was a good ceiver, and it would be no time until someone wanted me, and I would go to a new home and do as well there as I had done for him. And then he dismissed me, without so much as a kiss on the cheek, a hug, or a handshake."
"I had done everything I had been taught to do, willingly, happily. I had given my pere and my children my whole self. And now they were taking my life, my children from me, and I was expected to just--accept it, and walk away. I was to be gone before the kids got back, I had no chance to say goodbye, to tell them I loved them--that might be too upsetting for them. Paul and the peres would tell them when I was gone. I was instructed to call a taxi and go straight to the Repro offices, by myself. He couldn't even be bothered to take me there and say goodbye."
"He gave me cabfare, and I had some cash I'd kept on hand for tips for deliveries and little things for the kids. I got into the cab and rode away, but once I reached downtown, I had the cab stop, and I got out. The cabbie really didn't want to let me get out alone, but I promised him I had an important errand for my pere, just inside the building we'd stopped in front of, so he let me go."
Matthew wiped at his face, clearing the tears away, and faced the crowd again. "I found the nearest thrift shop, bought a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, tee shirts, socks, a jacket, shoes, and a backpack, dressed in the alcove in the back that functioned as a changing room, and bundled the extra clothes and my ceiver clothes into the backpack. I don't know why the people at the shop didn't challenge me, didn't ask any questions. Maybe they'd had other runaways shop there. Maybe they were sympathizers. But they didn't say anything, didn't ask me any questions I couldn't answer. I just paid in cash, picked up the backpack, and walked out."
"I had no idea what I was going to do next. I thought about trying to contact my parents, but if they were going to be able to keep seeing my kids, I thought I'd better not. I wandered around, spent almost the last money I had on a cheeseburger and coffee--"
There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd at the food choices. "And wandered out on the street with no plans, and nowhere to go. All I knew was, I couldn't go through being used like that again. I couldn't invest everything I had in a pere, in a home, in children, that could all be taken away from me in the blink of an eye at someone else's whim. I had no recourse. There was no court I could appeal to to get my kids back, to be compensated for the work I'd done, the--the--life. I had." Matthew stuttered to a stop, his face hidden in his palm. His emotions shook his frame, and another man stepped out of the crowd, wrapped an arm around Matthew and spoke into his ear. Matthew leaned against the man for a few moments, then seemed to settle. He nodded. Again he wiped tears off his face with his fingers, and he raised his face to the crowd and took a deep breath.
"Sorry." He tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. A murmur of sympathy encouraged him to continue. "I wandered around till after dark, and I was trying to decide whether to pay one of the two dollars I had left for a bed in a flophouse, find a men's shelter and risk being discovered and turned in as a runaway, or find some reasonably safe hiding place to spend the night. I saw a bunch of people gathered around an oil drum fire in a vacant lot, and more seemed to be arriving, in ones and twos. In a while, someone stepped out of the crowd and started talking about Repro, and about the movement to shut it down. To liberate the ceivers and end the power the Department holds over the country, the citizens, even the federal government. I stayed to listen, and was shocked, and immensely heartened, to realize that I wasn't really alone, after all.
"I found some friends that night, and have been with them, or others like them, ever since. It's been hard, and some of us have been caught. But I can't do anything else but fight. I have two kids I haven't seen in three years, being raised by someone else in a house where I used to live. I want my kids back--" The crowd yelled out agreement, and Matthew raised his voice and went on. "But I wouldn't take that life back for anything. I want my kids to be proud of the man I've become." Another shout went up from the crowd. Matthew smiled, and continued, his voice growing stronger. "I want to teach them things, and help them stand on their own feet. And if my son turns out to be a ceiver, I want him to have the power to choose what sort of life he's going to have." This time the yell was a roar, and Matthew stood, basking in the crowd's support and approval.
* * *
Jensen was shaking, as the crowd surged and roared around them. He wasn't really aware of the tears that flooded his eyes and streaked his face where it was turned into Jared's shoulder. Jared's arm was around him, holding him tight. "It's okay, Jensen," Jared murmured reassurance against his temple. "It's okay."
Jensen shrugged and moved back so he could look Jared in the face. He scrubbed the tears away with the heels of both palms. "No, it's not," he said. "It's not okay. It never was. Damn Repro. Damn them to hell." When their eyes met, Jared saw a light of battle and determination in Jensen's he'd never seen there before. "I'm tired of being scared, Jared. I'm tired of them ruining people's lives. It's time I stopped being so damned frightened of the bogeyman and started fighting back."
* * *
The three of them finished packing up the house. They stored some things at Jared's parents', and some at Jensen's parents', and shipped the rest to Ireland.
"I have to go back, Jared. I have to be there with JJ. I know what he's going through, being pregnant. I may be the only one who does know, the only one he can talk to, anyway. And I worry about him. He's fine, I know he's fine. Your mom called and told me how he's doing. I know they're taking good care of him, but I need to be there."
"Don't apologize, man," Jared told him. "If anybody feels guilty for not being there it's me. When are you leaving?"
"I thought on Monday?"
Jared nodded.
"Can't you and Mac come too? You know he wants to see you. He misses you both."
"In a few weeks. There's some stuff I started with the movement that I need to see through to the next step, and then I can hand it off to somebody else. If I do that, my conscience is clear, and I can stay till the baby comes, and for a while after."
"You think Mac will come?"
"Will Mac come where?" The person in question carried in a couple of bags of takeout. They'd cleaned out the fridge and the freezer; this would be their last meal in the house. They gathered around the breakfast bar to eat.
"I'll come if I can," Mac said, around a bite of cheeseburger. "I want to be there to welcome my niece or nephew. Don't want to miss it."
They packed up the trash from the takeout and stood looking out at the quarter court, the pool, and around the interior. Everything that showed they'd ever lived here was gone. It felt empty, like they'd already left, already moved on in life. Jared had a room at a residential hotel downtown. It wasn't great, but it was clean enough, and there was a couch for Mac, when he wasn't staying elsewhere, with other people in the movement. There wasn't really anything of value left here. They left through the door to the garage and locked the door. They would drop the keys off at AE in the morning. Tonight there was a rally they didn't want to miss.
* * *
Jensen and Jared stood together at the back of the crowd, in the shadows. Mark addressed the gathering, welcoming all who had come out, and providing some news on recent progress the movement was making. He introduced a new speaker, "Someone we haven't heard from before. But he has some important things to say, so let's give him a warm welcome."
A young man came out of the crowd and stepped up onto the milk crate to speak. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sandy brown hair that curled a little, even cut short, and vivid green eyes looking around at the crowd, he seemed self-possessed and sure of himself beyond his obvious youth. He waited till the crowd quieted, giving him their attention, before he started to speak.
"I'm here for my dad, and the life he had taken away from him by Repro. I'm grateful to be here, I'm grateful for my siblings, and for the wonderful dad he's been. But he should have been free to choose this life, or not.
"I'm here for my pop, who's done everything he ever could to support his family, no matter what we needed, or what we wanted to do. None of us would have made it through some pretty tough times without my pop.
"I'm here for my little brother, who I don't know when I'll ever see again, and the niece or nephew I may never get to meet. I want that child--and all children--to grow up in a world where they're free to work toward whatever they want to be in life, free to be with their families.
"I want families not to be torn apart by a government juggernaut that cares nothing for the lives of citizens, only that those lives increase. I want children to grow up in their homes, not to be taken and trained, and awarded like trophies to people the Department chooses." The crowd had started to murmur. The gathered voices rose like waves after each new exhortation. Mac raised his voice to be heard above the crowd.
"And I don't want to wait any longer for it. Things have to change--they're already changing. Let's not be discouraged or turned aside in our work, let's continue to insist on change, on making things right. Let's not fail in our fight! We have to keep working for freedom!"
A background noise grew slowly above the crowd noise, and Mac was shouting to be heard. Suddenly a wind swirled through the underpass, throwing dust and trash into the air, and the sound resolved as a helicopter when a brilliant light speared down from the sky. "This is the police!" a loudspeaker grated out, while people ducked and scattered in all directions. Jared and Jensen saw Mac scurry away into dark shadows beyond the searchlight as they hurried in the opposite direction. "Everyone here, stay right where you are!" the loudspeaker growled again, and now the sound of sirens was growing loud and close.
"Here!" Jared said, pulling Jensen after him into an alley, at the end of which was a door that looked as though it had been locked and left for a long time. Jared twisted the handle, and it gave with an oiled smoothness; the two of them ducked into velvet darkness, and a quiet that belied the noise and confusion outside.
"Where?" Jensen wanted to know.
"Stay here,"Jared said. Jensen could hear him limping a few steps on his cane, and then there was the scratch of a match, and the sputter and glow of a candle.
"Looks like we're safe," Jared said. He raised the candle to reveal a row of cots, neatly made with sheets, blankets and pillows.
"What is this place?"
"Way station for rescues and runaways," Jared told him. "Looks like we have a couple of hours before we can make it back to the car." He set the candle down and walked close to Jensen, right up in his space, breathing his air. "Got any ideas how we can pass the time?"
* * *
three years later
Shannon chased Seamus around the garden, both of them doing a bad job of hiding, but enjoying the pounce of "finding" the hider. Seamus had the best giggle: it lit up his bright blue eyes, and scrunched up his nose with the freckles scattered across it. Shannon was convinced there had never been a cuter nephew. She tickled him and his giggles turned to shouts of glee. She swooped him up from his hiding place behind the rosebush and was about to carry him inside for bathtime and supper, when someone cleared their throat.
There was a young man at the gate, a stranger. Tall, with brown hair and eyes, a day's worth of sparse, unshaven scruff. He was nice enough looking, dressed in good walking clothes, rather than in a suit and tie. "Hello," he said.
"Hello."
"You're Shannon, aren't you? I remember you. Is JJ here?"
He had an American accent, and Shannon felt a faint buzz of alarm. Why would a strange American appear out of nowhere at their doorstep?
"Do I know you?" she asked. Seamus wiggled where she held him on her hip, and peeked around her to look at the stranger.
"Shannon, it's me. I'm Robby," he smiled a little hesitantly.
"Robby?" JJ's little friend from school? The one he'd been inseparable friends with until--
"Yeah, it's me."
"Oh!" She set Seamus down and moved to open the gate, pulling Robby in for a hug. "My, it's been awhile," she said.
He grinned. "Yeah, I know. And I've grown."
"You sure have."
"So," he asked again. "Is JJ here? I've kind of come a long way to see him."
End
Author's note: First of all, I have to thank
wendy and thehighwaywoman for all their dedicated hard work organizing this challenge and cat-herding the participants. It's an effort far above and beyond duty, and you make it look easy.I couldn't ask for a more patient and supportive beta than
spn_j2fan. From the moment, back in the dark days of January, when I got an itch to write a little more, to explore "what next," she was there to kick around ideas, directions, and possible plot points. It was her extrapolation and brainstorming that gave me the courage to sign up for BB this year, with the idea in mind I could always default on the first draft if it didn't pan out. Her tough calls, honest opinion, and unflagging encouragement that never gave up on the story, or on me, even when I didn't know what the next word would be, made this story possible. Me: when in doubt, list things. spn_j2fan: No lists! You should all be grateful.My thanks to a small choir of cheerleaders--and yes I know cheerleaders don't come in choirs, I don't care--you know who you are. Also to
meus_venator for a last-minute emergency tech assist. Thanks!My fabulous artist
bflyw did the art for my Big Bang last year, and I know her work was a strong visual connection for the story--people have even remarked on remembering the story by her amazing art. I was so incredibly lucky she was eager to work with me again. She's outdone herself; her art this year is completely different, unique, evocative, and perfectly in key with this particular story. I'm so grateful--she is also the one to thank for the awesome PDF and E-files. Please check her art post and tell her how wonderful she is!And if you've got this far, thank you for reading! I always felt that More Than Words was at heart Jensen's story. More Than Us is Jared's.
Masterpost | Comments?
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Date: 2012-07-25 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-26 06:36 pm (UTC)As to a conclusion? Heh. At the moment, I couldn't write a grocery list. But thanks for your enthusiasm! ;o)