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Entry tags:
FIC: So Close to My Heart 1/2 (j2, NC-17)
Title: So Close to My Heart
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction.
Words: 15,900 (complete in two parts)
Summary: Dr. Jared and single-dad Jensen in Seattle, with love and complications.
Notes: I’ve never had so much fun writing anything ever. Much gratitude and love to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wendy and destina for the fabulous beta. juice817 did an awesome podfic version, available here.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fluffandfold. My prompt is at the end.
beautiful cover bysandrainthesun
The bike ride to the hospital took 13 minutes.
Jared had timed it. Eighteen in traffic, twenty-one in bad traffic, with another two tacked on if he missed the light at 2nd, but never, ever more than thirty, so it makes no sense at all that a quick trip at seven pm on a Thursday would feel like it was endless.
It probably didn't help that Jensen's terse, half-sentenced message was playing over and over in his head; it had been practically incoherent but he'd gotten the gist -- Jonah, the slick front steps in front of Jen's apartment building, Jensen saying, "He turned blue," with his voice so tightly controlled Jared could feel the tension stretching right through the phone. Jared had hit speed dial before Jensen finished saying, "Can you --? Please. I need you to come down here."
Jared pushed his headset tighter against his ear and waited impatiently for the operator to come on the line.
"Seattle Children's Memorial Hospital."
"Yes, this is Dr. Padalecki, I'm on staff at the Heart Center. I'm calling about a patient that came into emergency about fifteen minutes ago; male, five years old, the name is Jonah Ackles. I need to speak to the attending immediately."
Jared mentally shuffled through the list of possible head trauma complications Jonah could be facing, each more horrifying and far-fetched than the last while he waited through an impossibly long delay that he knew could only have been a few seconds. Finally the operator came back on-line. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone by that name in the system yet."
Jared exhaled sharply. "Fine, then just put me through to ER admitting -- hello?" he said, losing the connection under the viaduct. "Goddammit!" He didn't bother re-dialing, just made a quick left into the Children's Memorial parking lot.
He practically raced through the wet lot, streetlights gleaming on the puddles like moonlight, even though the real moon was buried in December clouds. He bypassed the front entrance and made straight for the emergency room, propped his bike out of the way behind a planter and rushed through the entrance, scanning the plastic chairs in the waiting room as soon as the door slid shut behind him. The admitting area was almost empty, with just a few people scattered around the room. His eyes immediately found Jensen standing near one window, dark wool coat still on like he'd just come from work and his face set with tension that eased just a fraction when he saw Jared.
"Thank God," Jensen said, talking to Jared while he was still half-way across the room, striding across to meet him. "They wouldn't let me go in with him -- said he needed to go straight down to Imaging, whatever the fuck that is." Jensen waved one hand toward the swinging doors past admitting.
Jared put a steadying hand on Jensen's arm. "Okay, I'll find out what's happening -- just wait here," he said, already moving toward the desk.
He flashed his ID and grabbed a steth from the nurse's station, confirmed that Jonah had been taken down to x-ray and was in the elevator before the admitting could pull up his chart. The voice in his head saying hurryhurryhurry hadn't quieted at all and he was starting to wonder where he'd put his professional distance.
Jonah was coming out of Imaging as Jared came out of the elevator, looking small and scared on the gurney but very much awake and alert.
"Uncle Jay!"
Not to mention loud. The relief that surged through Jared almost made him dizzy.
"Jonah, Jonah, Jonah," he said, stopping the orderly pushing the gurney with a smile and a nod. "What are you doing, man? Didn't we agree I'd never see you in my hospital again?"
"I didn't want to come," Jonah protested, indignant. "Dad made me." Jonah made a disgusted face, looking up at him with eyes the exact color of Jensen's and a matching expression of stubbornness, but Jared noticed his chin wobbling just a bit.
Jared resisted the urge to hug him and reached out to ruffle Jonah's hair instead. He set his fingers on Jonah's forehead and lifted one eyelid, than the other. "If you wanted to visit me, all you needed to do was ask. Falling down the stairs is a little extreme, dude."
"Those steps are slippery!" Jonah complained. "Dad said to wait for him but I wanted to talk to Drew. He's getting a puppy for his birthday."
"Oh, yeah?" Jared said, pushing aside Jonah's shirt and setting the stethoscope against his chest. "Deep breath."
Jonah obediently took a breath, automatically held it because God knows he knew the drill by now, and impatiently waited to talk while Jared listened.
"Again," Jared said, moving the scope, concentrating on the sound of Jonah's heart. Strong and steady. Jared could feel his worry leaking away with every beat. He pulled back. "Sounds good, kiddo."
"Hey, do you think I could get a puppy, too?" Jonah asked, brightening.
Jared let out a relieved breath. "If you asked your Dad right this second? I'd say you're golden."
A blonde woman in a white coat came around the corner, carrying a chart. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Hey, Padalecki, didn't you just get out of here? Can't keep you away, huh?"
"What can I say, Mack, I'm a slave. What have you got?" He reached for Jonah's chart, flipped it open.
If Allison was surprised at Jared's interest, she didn't show it. "Head injury -- but we've got no external hematoma, no reduction of function." She looked at Jonah and smiled. "His father says he had respiratory trouble and brief loss of consciousness, but pupil reflex is normal. I ran a cranial x-ray just to be sure, but at this point I'm going with Grade One, unless the pictures comes back differently." Allison sounded doubtful about that possibility.
Jared let his fingers relax around the chart. "That's good to hear. Hey, do me a favor, though -- get an EKG going."
Allison nodded, delicate eyebrows raised. "I saw the post-op scarring. He's one of yours?"
And oh, was that an understatement.
"Yeah," he said quietly, then looked over at Jonah and winked. "We go way back, don't we, buddy?"
Jonah nodded, smiling for the first time since Jared saw him. "Uncle Jay fixed my heart."
**
When Jared got back to the waiting room it was like Jensen hadn't moved. He was still standing by the far wall, still wearing his coat, head bent and arms crossed like there was something on the floor he needed to glare into submission. He looked up immediately at the sound of the door opening, face pale and jaw set and suddenly Jared was in a different waiting room two years earlier, deja vu so swift and sudden he almost stopped walking.
He remembered Jensen's face, exhausted and worn, pinched thin with worry until Jared had spoken to him, given him the news. He'd watched all that tension break, and then Jensen had grabbed him, almost shaking with relief, hard fingers digging into Jared's back and the brief, firm touch of his body a shock. Jared couldn't pinpoint one moment and say, it started there, but that one came close. Jared shook off the memory and met Jensen at the desk.
"He's fine," Jared said, not wasting any time.
Jensen looked almost surprised. "Fine?" he blurted. "Really? You're sure?"
"Minor contusion, but he's got clean x-rays, EKG like a greeting card... I'm going to let it run for awhile, but Jen, we checked everything. Nothing to worry about. He's fine."
"But." Jen still looked tense. "You didn't see him. He couldn't breathe."
Jared crossed his arms, considering. "He fell on his back, didn't he?"
Jensen nodded, mouth tightening like he was remembering.
"A hard blow to the back can cause brief paralysis of the diaphragm."
"What? Is that --?"
"In other words, I'm pretty sure he got the wind knocked out of him."
Jensen blinked. Jared schooled his expression so he wouldn't smile.
"He got the wind knocked out of him?" Jensen repeated, and Jared watched the realization finally wash over Jensen's face. His grin was sudden and crooked, hesitantly glad and vaguely embarrassed and Jared had to look down so he wouldn't laugh.
"Yeah." Jared let his own smile slip out.
Jensen's mouth twisted even more. "So what you're saying is, I might have over-reacted?"
"I'm saying that it's possible, yes."
Jensen stood frozen for a moment, focusing on nothing, then rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God. I'm one of those parents, aren't I?" he asked, sounding resigned. "I've become one of them. The over-protective crazy ones."
"The ones we laugh at in the staff room. No, wait, I'm sorry -- that's with. Laugh with."
"Oh, great. That's really great. It's just," Jensen was laughing a little, but it sounded kind of out of control and he couldn't seem to find the words. "It was like before, you know? Just like before. He couldn't breathe."
"Hey, I know," Jared said, suddenly wanting to take it all back because God, he knew how Jensen had felt; had felt his panic like it was his own. "And given his history -- I'd have been shocked if you hadn't shown up here. Only, the thing is, this is nothing like before, Jen. Nothing."
"No?" Jen asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, but sounding disbelieving all the same.
"No," Jared answered firmly. "Trust me, Jen. That valve is as good as new. Jonah's heart is fine." Then he grinned. "Because his surgical team was comprised entirely of gifted geniuses. I can't believe you keep forgetting that."
"Not for a minute," Jensen said, almost under his breath. The he looked up at Jared, embarrassed and gorgeous and smiling for real this time. "Hey, thanks for coming down here like this. I'm sorry that I'm, you know. Insane, now."
For a second Jared was taken aback. "Don't mention it," he said. He looked at Jensen's smile and his still-pale face and the remnants of tension around his eyes, and before he realized it he was reaching out. He put his hand on Jensen's shoulder, curled his fingers briefly over the soft wool and hard muscle underneath; just for a second. Shook it a little. "Of course."
Just for reassurance, Jared told himself. That's all.
"So, hey, can I see my kid, now?" Jensen continued, oblivious.
Jared let go almost immediately, but the contact left him with an echo of warmth he could feel down to his spine. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, would you, please?" he said finally, his voice light. "I think he's working on his escape plan. It doesn't look good for me when they get away."
**
"That's it for Carter Nieran, then," Dr. Morgan said, marking the bottom of the chart with a ballpoint and flipping the folder closed. He moved it to the farthest pile on his desk. "Schedule a six-month follow-up , but we can close the active file." He glanced up at Jared. "You did good work, there."
"Thanks," Jared said, and fought the urge to shift in his chair. Seven years of surgical residency and he had the exact same ear-burning reaction to praise from Jeff Morgan that he'd had when he showed up fresh out of U of Chicago med school. It was embarrassing.
"Okay, who's next?" Jeff asked, immediately back to business.
Jared looked down at his list. "Last one. Abby Creighton," Jared said, sobering. He passed over the chart. "Results from this morning are on top."
Jeff scanned the top page, then tossed the file on his desk. "Hell." He rubbed his eyes.
"EF's dropped to 32%," Jared said, though he knew Jeff could read as well as he could. "Edema under control for now, but the LVAD's only functioning at 75%." A death sentence in detached, professional terms.
"Anything change on the transplant list?" Jeff asked.
Jared shook his head. He checked at least three times a day.
Jeff nodded, lips pressed tight. "Keep me posted."
Jared knew there was nothing else to say at this point, and less to be done, but he didn't have to like it. He was at the door when Jeff spoke again.
"Dr. Padalecki. Have you given any more thought to staying on after March?" Jeff's voice was casual, infinitely careless but the look he gave Jared reminded him of hawks circling over Issaquah.
When had Jared stopped thinking about it was the more accurate question. "Pretty much continuously."
"Plan on reaching a decision at some point?" Jeff seemed to be interrogating him with his eyebrows. For the first two years of Jared's residency just a twitch in the upward direction had been enough to make him cower. Jared thought using them in this context was a little unfair.
"As soon as possible, believe me. I'd like to know myself."
Jeff looked down at a file in front of him. "67."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said, 67. That's the number of septal defect reconstructions you've led in the past two years." Jeff continued reading. "You've assisted on 110. Since you've been on the surgical team, you've performed 32 aortic valve replacements... implanted 23 cavopulmonary shunts... and assisted on four complete transplants. By my count, that's a total of 234 Carter Nierans."
And Jonah Ackles, Jared's mind supplied automatically. Jared swallowed. "I'm proud of that number. And I'm very grateful to have had the opportunity."
Jeff's lips tightened. "I'm not going to pull any punches here. You're a gifted surgeon, Jared. The most promising resident who's ever come through this program. If Glover lures you out to that research lab in Rochester, it's going to be a loss to more than just my surgical team."
"Thank you," Jared said, finally. He didn't think he was capable of saying anything else, other than that he was probably going to file this moment away next to the memory holding his med-school diploma in his hand. Then he cleared his throat. "I'll let you know what my decision is by the first," he said. "I won't leave you and the team in the lurch."
"Good." Jeff looked down at the chart on his desk, then flicked his gaze back up to Jared. "You do know it snows in Rochester?" Jeff asked abruptly, eyes narrow. "Lots of snow. All the time. You should consider that, too."
And apparently after seven years, Jared was still never entirely sure when Jeff was joking, either. "I'll keep that in mind," he said carefully.
"You do that." Jeff nodded.
The one thing Jared was completely sure of was that Jeff's nod was the universal signal for "leave my presence immediately", so Jared headed for the hallway, making turns without seeing where he was going, mind whirling.
The joke of it was that it shouldn't be a decision at all. Rochester should be a slam dunk, the prize in the cereal box that Jared had spent seven years trying to win with Seattle as his launching pad, just the start to his career. It shouldn't be so hard to leave, he told himself. He should never have let the means to an end become more like an end in itself, with work he loved and people he --.
He headed for the closest nurses station and flipped open his cell, needing to talk to Jensen so suddenly he ached. That his first reaction was to call Jensen set off all the vague alarm bells he'd been ignoring for months.
"Jay." Jensen sounded pleased, rushed. "What's going on?"
Jared took a breath. "Well, I still work here."
"Wonderful," Jensen said, sounding distracted. "I'm glad to hear you didn't get fired since last night." Jensen's voice suddenly became muffled. "Larry, are those the transit prints? No, the bottom ones. Yeah, I need them. Thanks. Sorry. So that's a good thing, right?"
"Morgan's pulling out the hard sell."
"Oh, sweet. Cars? Villas in Tuscany?"
"More like professional validation. A little guilt. But I'm sure the villa's next." Jared paused. "I told him I'd make a decision by the first." Jared waited, for what he wasn't exactly sure. He didn't expect Jensen to beg him to stay, not on the basis of a friendship and honorary uncle status with his kid, but was it too much to hope for some kind of an objection, something? For a second, Jared thought he could actually hear crickets in the silence of Jensen's response. "So how's my patient?" he asked a little desperately.
He heard Jensen take a breath. "Apparently rock-headed. And opportunistic. I heard him trying to parley the hospital visit into another day home from school about two seconds after Nala showed up for work. She was totally going to cave."
Jared looked at the ceiling. "Another day? Jen. He's fine."
"I didn't let him stay home. Right away." Jensen kept going before Jared could say anything. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But he's five, it's kindergarten, big deal. He was scared."
So were you, Jared thought. And so was I. And I am so fucked.
"We're going to be at the park tomorrow, like always. Saturday play date with the Rosenbaums, excitement all around," Jensen continued. "You can see him for yourself. Tell me what a pushover of a father I am."
Jared could hear Jensen's smile. He could have drawn it from memory. It was probably way too fucking late for self-preservation to kick in, but maybe he should try. "I don't know if I can make it -- I've got rounds at noon." The excuse sounded weak, even to himself.
"Oh." Jensen waited a beat and then said easily, " Well, we're meeting Mike and Erica at ten." Like it would be different than it's been for the last year. "If you change your mind."
**
"Good morning, Dr. Padalecki."
Jared nodded gravely. "Dr. Rosenbaum."
"I thought Jen said you weren't coming." Mike sat down beside Jared on the park bench, smiling around his latte like a cat. Jared wondered if continual sarcasm made for some mixed messages during patient consultations.
"I wasn't."
"But?"
Jared tried to take a sip of his own coffee but it was still hot enough that drinking it would mean skin grafts. "I didn't want to miss today's fifteen minutes of official sunlight." He looked across the playground to where Jensen was chasing Jonah and Mike's son Tyler around the jungle-gym, growling and flinging his arms in the air as the two boys screamed in terrified joy.
"Or your chance to worship from afar," Mike drawled, dry as sand. His twitch of a grin took the sting out of it.
"Have I told you that I find your interest in this situation vaguely disturbing?" Jared asked. He propped his elbows on the back of the bench.
"Oh, come on. How could I not? We're all friends; it's fascinating. Like theater." Mike smirked. "Musical theater..."
"It's very, very wrong that you, of all people, are the only one enjoying this." Jared glanced briefly at Mike. "Not that I consider it your fault in any way. Oh, wait."
"Oh, no. You're not putting this on me." Mike sounded amused, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I just referred his son to you. I had no way of knowing it would give you a two-year hard-on." Mike sipped his coffee. "Besides. Now he spends more time with you than he does with me, so obviously, I'm the injured party here. Believe me, if I'd known..." Jonah screeched his way down the slide while Jensen roared, grabbed his son at the bottom and flipped him upside down to the sound of Jonah's hysterical laughter. "I'd have done it anyway."
Jared tipped his coffee toward Mike. Jensen had turned Jonah right side up now, and was pointing out Jared sitting on the bench. Jonah started running but Jensen just stood back and smiled, wearing some soft-looking gray sweater and dark jeans that Hugo Boss should be paying him to wear. Jared sighed gloomily.
"Pathetic," Mike commented.
Jared was saved from answering by Jonah barreling into him, jumping into his lap and practically knocking him off the bench.
"Dad said you weren't coming!"
"Coffee, coffee!" Jared warned, holding it out of the way. He smiled. "Dude. Like I'd miss our park date."
Jonah frowned suddenly, thinking. "Hey, will you come to my t-ball games? Dad said me and Tyler are gonna play t-ball next year and that's on Saturday, too. But it's okay, if you come to that instead."
"T-ball, huh?" Jared said weakly. Obviously Jensen hadn't said anything to Jonah about Jared leaving. Or possibly leaving. Jared wasn't sure how to process that. "That's so cool, buddy. Yeah, if I can. Sure."
That seemed to satisfy Jonah, who immediately jumped down and ran back to where Jensen was waiting for Tyler to take his turn on the slide. Jared watched him go and saw Mike's wife Erica break away from a group of people talking at the side of the playground. Her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail that fell in one perfectly straight, shining blonde line from the back of her head to the middle of her back, large sunglasses in perfect proportion to her face like everything else about her. She always made Jared feel like he should tuck in his shirt.
"Oh, good, Jared -- you're here," Erica said. "I never trust Mike with these things. I want to make sure you've got the 18th on your calendar."
Jared blinked at her, drawing a blank until he saw Mike's frantic nod as he mouthed something that looked like, "Party".
"Oh, sure. Of course. The 18th. It's in stone."
"Dude. You can't miss the 18th," Jensen said, walking up with Jonah on his back and Tyler hanging off his leg. "It's the Christmakuh Party."
"I thought we decided to go with Hannamas," Mike said.
"No," Erica said, with a pleasantly brittle calm. "That's what you two decided. And that was last year. This year, the Tehrani's are coming, and Allison celebrates solstice -- if you have to call it anything, why can't you go with... The Rosenbaum's Pan-Cultural Holiday Event?" She waved a hand, the sun flashing off a diamond the size of a marble. "I get half my first quarter bookings from this thing. Jokes make me cranky."
"My wife, gentlemen," Mike said lightly, slipping an arm around her waist. "Love her and despair."
"Every day, baby." Erica kissed his cheek. "Jay? The 18th. Tyler? Whatever that is, put it down." Erica walked back toward the playground as Jonah and Tyler ran for the swings.
Mike watched them for second and stood up. "Well. I'm going to go push my kid. And for God's sake, Jared," he said, walking off. "Write that date down. I like my life."
"It's down, it's down," Jared called after him and tossed his coffee cup in the trash. He rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God. I better get going. I've got rounds and a consultation with Morgan at one. Fuck." He glanced at Jensen, who had sat down next to him. "I'd rather stay here."
"Morgan buy you that villa yet?" Jensen asked after a moment, watching the kids on the swings.
"I'm sure it's in the works." Jared decided staring at Jensen's profile was getting more ridiculously obvious than usual, and looked away. "You didn't tell Jonah, huh?" He was surprised how much that question hurt.
Jensen shrugged. "Nothing's definite, right? Why upset him?" Jensen turned to look at him, eyes serious and intent. "You've got to know how much he'd miss you."
Jared stared back, holding his breath because for a second it seemed like there was more in Jensen's words than Jared's own wishful thinking. Jensen looked away almost immediately and the moment was gone.
"Sometimes I think he still doesn't really get why Alona's not here anymore," Jensen went on.
"Really?" Jared was surprised and vaguely uncomfortable. Jensen didn't mention Alona often. "He was so little when she left..."
"She's his mother, Jay. It doesn't matter how little he was." He shook his head. Jen's smile was wry as he stood up. "He doesn't need to think about someone else he loves leaving. Not until he has to." He nodded toward the swings. "I'm going to get back over there. Take care."
Jared nodded, feeling dazed. "You, too."
Jensen walked off with a backward half-wave that Jared remembered the whole way to work, replaying the whole conversation in his head until the moment Abby Creighton's world blew up, and then there was no time to think of anything else.
**
Jensen lived on First street, downtown overlooking the Harbor Steps and the the bay itself. He could walk to the art museum across the street, to Pike's a block away, and to no less than three sushi restaurants in five minutes. As Jared looked up at his building and counted two windows over on the fifteenth floor, he wondered why he'd never noticed before that the location wasn't exactly cut out for kids.
Jensen's light was on. Jared was eternally glad Jensen was used to him calling at bizarre hours.
"Jay?" Jensen sounded surprised but awake.
"Hey, how's it going?"
Jared was going for casual, but apparently it didn't work, because Jensen immediately said, "Something wrong?"
"No, not really. Just -- kind of a long day. Look, I've got something for Jonah." That he'd bought by impulse on the way to the hospital, because at the moment it had seemed really important. Now it was hard to remember why.
"Now? Where are you?"
"Downstairs. But hey, if you're busy..." Sudden realization hit. "God, what time is it?"
"Don't worry about it," Jensen said abruptly. "Just come up."
**
Jensen was leaning in the open doorway when Jared came out of the elevator. "Hey," he said. Jensen was barefoot, with his shirt untucked over old jeans and he looked rumpled and sleepy and Jared really, really wanted to touch him.
Apparently exhaustion made Jared stupid. "I wanted to bring this for Jonah." He held up the bag.
Jensen looked at it. Took it carefully. "That's great," Jensen said. "Only, it's after eleven, dude. He's sleeping."
"Eleven? Fuck. I've been in surgery, I lost track. I'm sorry --"
"Hey, I'm awake, it's no problem. Go sit down." He stepped back and Jared followed him into the room.
Jared sank onto the thick leather sofa as Jensen went into the kitchen. Jensen's apartment was two bedrooms and a large living area, all leather and warm, dark colors that some decorator probably thought would work for two "men" on their own, even if one of them was five. Jared remembered when Jensen had moved there, a month or two after Jonah got out of the hospital, and right about when they'd started doing things together without Mike and Erica always being there, too. It had seemed like a happy coincidence that his place was so close to the hospital. Now Jared wondered if Jensen chose this place because he could get there fast if he needed to.
Oh, God, Jen.
Jared saw movement in the hallway, looked up to see Jonah leaning sleepily against the door.
"Hey, kiddo," he said softly. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
Jonah nodded, but immediately walked over to climb into Jared's lap; a warm, sleepy weight that sent comfort through Jared's body, so unexpected it made his throat tighten.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked, his voice raw.
"S'okay."
"Hey, I brought you something." Jared reached carefully for the bag on the coffee table, and handed it to Jonah.
"What is it?" Jonah asked, with a sleepy seriousness that made Jared smile.
"Open it and find out."
Jonah opened the bag and fished out the kid-size baseball glove, blue and dull silver. He smiled, too. "It's a mitt."
"For t-ball," Jared said. "You and your dad can practice. I wanted you to have it now." In case he wasn't there in the spring.
The thought hurt, even more than he expected, but Jonah looked happy and that was the important thing. He reached up to hug Jared, small arms winding around his neck. Jonah was warm and solid and smelled like baby shampoo, and Jared felt his tension unwinding with every second.
"Hey, buddy, say thank you," Jensen said quietly, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Jared leaned back to see Jonah's face. "It's okay -- he's half-asleep." He looked back up to see Jensen staring thoughtfully at the glove in Jonah's hands.
"You know, you never need an excuse," Jensen said.
And God, Jared knew that, counted on that, maybe more times than he probably should have, showing up at Jensen's door when he just couldn't face going home, but the words went right through him anyway. All Jared could do was nod, not quite trusting his voice. He looked away and noticed the square coffee table in the living room was covered with blueprints, and there was light burning over Jensen's drafting table next to the window.
"You were working, huh?" Jared asked in a strangled voice, feeling like the king of the obvious.
"I've got a presentation on Monday," Jensen said. He handed Jared a mug and sat down in the chair next to the couch with one of his own. "Updating the planning commission for about the twentieth time. I'm going to be so freaking glad when this transit project is over." He sat back and closed his eyes. "In four years."
"I'll let you get on that, then." Jared looked down at the mug. "This isn't coffee."
Jensen looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "Like you need coffee. It's soup. Kind of experimental." He lifted his own mug, peered into it. "My latest attempt to disguise vegetables as food." Jared must have looked alarmed because Jensen rolled his eyes. "It's edible. I figured you probably didn't eat today."
Jared tried to remember. "Power bars."
Jensen raised his eyebrows. "Jay, you look like hell. Why didn't you go home?"
That was the million dollar question. Jared ignored it; sipped the soup and closed his eyes in relief. "You know something? This is actually good."
"Don't sound so shocked." Jensen seemed amused. "I have skills."
Jared took another sip and gave the easy answer. "I can't go home yet -- I've got a patient in ICU I need to check on in a few hours."
They sat there in silence. Finally Jensen asked, "I guess it didn't go well?"
Jared shrugged slightly, careful not to dislodge Jonah. He set the mug on the table. "As well as we could expect. We got her through the crisis, anyway." He put his head back and closed his eyes. He felt like his body was dissolving into the couch. "But everything we did today? Stopgap."
"What do you mean?"
"She needs a transplant. We didn't really give her that much time." The clock ticking in the kitchen seemed ridiculously loud. Jared tried to appreciate the irony. "I keep thinking that in Rochester I wouldn't ever be having that particular conversation with anyone's parents again."
He was almost dozing when Jensen finally spoke.
"You gave her tomorrow, though," Jensen said softly. "Her parents, too."
His voice sounded so odd that Jared opened his eyes. Jensen was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at his clasped hands. "When I was in that waiting room, during Jonah's operation?" Jensen's jaw clenched tightly for a second. "I couldn't imagine anything past that minute. It was like there was nothing beyond that room, that second in time. You know why?"
Jared shook his head, mute. Jensen had never talked about this before. Not to him. He was afraid to break the spell.
"Because there wasn't anything." Jensen looked up at Jared, eyes bleak with memory. "That was my son, my baby. You had the whole world in there, Jay, in one room." He looked at Jonah. "I may as well have been on that operating table, too. But then you came out and I had a life again." He smiled helplessly and Jay felt something in his chest give way. "That's what you gave those people today."
I can't do this, Jared thought blankly. I can't be here with you.
Jensen looked away. "Are you on-call right now?"
For a second Jensen's words didn't make any sense at all. "No," Jared said. His voice sounded thrashed. "Not until tomorrow morning. I want to go back over there, though."
"Go lay down for a little while." Jensen spoke over Jared's protest, standing up. "You've got your phone, you're 10 minutes away. Just rest for a few hours." Jensen leaned close, warm hands brushing Jared's chest as he picked Jonah up, and Jared instantly imagined pulling Jensen down instead; keeping the three of them on the couch, close and safe.
The thought was so vivid that Jared automatically stood and headed into Jensen's bedroom before he'd realized what he'd done; realized he'd be laying down on Jensen's bed in Jensen's room, like he needed anything else to fuel his fantasies. But the down comforter was covered in something almost like suede, the light on the dresser dim, and it looked so inviting he decided he'd just have to live with it. He kicked off his shoes and fell on the bed. He was staring at the ceiling, shocked he hadn't just passed out, when Jensen appeared to lean in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
"You good here?" Jensen asked, voice low. "Need a blanket or something?"
Jared shook his head, almost too tired to move. "No, I'm fine. What are you going to do?"
Jensen shifted. "I've got to finish up."
And God, maybe it was the warmth, or the exhaustion that made his head spin, or maybe just the way Jensen was leaning in the doorway like everything Jared wanted and maybe something that he could have. Jared's defenses crumpled like paper.
"You could lay down with me," Jared said.
The words just hung there with the silence stretching around them, longer and longer, until Jared frantically tried to think of a way to make them sound like anything but an unmistakable invitation. He laughed shortly, an awkward croak. "Plenty of room."
Jensen swallowed, his expression blank. "I always..." He trailed off, staring at Jared. Tried again. "I sleep on the couch all the time. It's okay. Good night, Jay."
Jared just nodded, having just enough time to feel a single, sharp stab of disappointment before exhaustion reached up and dragged him down.
to part 2
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction.
Words: 15,900 (complete in two parts)
Summary: Dr. Jared and single-dad Jensen in Seattle, with love and complications.
Notes: I’ve never had so much fun writing anything ever. Much gratitude and love to
wendy and destina for the fabulous beta. juice817 did an awesome podfic version, available here.Written for
fluffandfold. My prompt is at the end. 
beautiful cover by
sandrainthesunThe bike ride to the hospital took 13 minutes.
Jared had timed it. Eighteen in traffic, twenty-one in bad traffic, with another two tacked on if he missed the light at 2nd, but never, ever more than thirty, so it makes no sense at all that a quick trip at seven pm on a Thursday would feel like it was endless.
It probably didn't help that Jensen's terse, half-sentenced message was playing over and over in his head; it had been practically incoherent but he'd gotten the gist -- Jonah, the slick front steps in front of Jen's apartment building, Jensen saying, "He turned blue," with his voice so tightly controlled Jared could feel the tension stretching right through the phone. Jared had hit speed dial before Jensen finished saying, "Can you --? Please. I need you to come down here."
Jared pushed his headset tighter against his ear and waited impatiently for the operator to come on the line.
"Seattle Children's Memorial Hospital."
"Yes, this is Dr. Padalecki, I'm on staff at the Heart Center. I'm calling about a patient that came into emergency about fifteen minutes ago; male, five years old, the name is Jonah Ackles. I need to speak to the attending immediately."
Jared mentally shuffled through the list of possible head trauma complications Jonah could be facing, each more horrifying and far-fetched than the last while he waited through an impossibly long delay that he knew could only have been a few seconds. Finally the operator came back on-line. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone by that name in the system yet."
Jared exhaled sharply. "Fine, then just put me through to ER admitting -- hello?" he said, losing the connection under the viaduct. "Goddammit!" He didn't bother re-dialing, just made a quick left into the Children's Memorial parking lot.
He practically raced through the wet lot, streetlights gleaming on the puddles like moonlight, even though the real moon was buried in December clouds. He bypassed the front entrance and made straight for the emergency room, propped his bike out of the way behind a planter and rushed through the entrance, scanning the plastic chairs in the waiting room as soon as the door slid shut behind him. The admitting area was almost empty, with just a few people scattered around the room. His eyes immediately found Jensen standing near one window, dark wool coat still on like he'd just come from work and his face set with tension that eased just a fraction when he saw Jared.
"Thank God," Jensen said, talking to Jared while he was still half-way across the room, striding across to meet him. "They wouldn't let me go in with him -- said he needed to go straight down to Imaging, whatever the fuck that is." Jensen waved one hand toward the swinging doors past admitting.
Jared put a steadying hand on Jensen's arm. "Okay, I'll find out what's happening -- just wait here," he said, already moving toward the desk.
He flashed his ID and grabbed a steth from the nurse's station, confirmed that Jonah had been taken down to x-ray and was in the elevator before the admitting could pull up his chart. The voice in his head saying hurryhurryhurry hadn't quieted at all and he was starting to wonder where he'd put his professional distance.
Jonah was coming out of Imaging as Jared came out of the elevator, looking small and scared on the gurney but very much awake and alert.
"Uncle Jay!"
Not to mention loud. The relief that surged through Jared almost made him dizzy.
"Jonah, Jonah, Jonah," he said, stopping the orderly pushing the gurney with a smile and a nod. "What are you doing, man? Didn't we agree I'd never see you in my hospital again?"
"I didn't want to come," Jonah protested, indignant. "Dad made me." Jonah made a disgusted face, looking up at him with eyes the exact color of Jensen's and a matching expression of stubbornness, but Jared noticed his chin wobbling just a bit.
Jared resisted the urge to hug him and reached out to ruffle Jonah's hair instead. He set his fingers on Jonah's forehead and lifted one eyelid, than the other. "If you wanted to visit me, all you needed to do was ask. Falling down the stairs is a little extreme, dude."
"Those steps are slippery!" Jonah complained. "Dad said to wait for him but I wanted to talk to Drew. He's getting a puppy for his birthday."
"Oh, yeah?" Jared said, pushing aside Jonah's shirt and setting the stethoscope against his chest. "Deep breath."
Jonah obediently took a breath, automatically held it because God knows he knew the drill by now, and impatiently waited to talk while Jared listened.
"Again," Jared said, moving the scope, concentrating on the sound of Jonah's heart. Strong and steady. Jared could feel his worry leaking away with every beat. He pulled back. "Sounds good, kiddo."
"Hey, do you think I could get a puppy, too?" Jonah asked, brightening.
Jared let out a relieved breath. "If you asked your Dad right this second? I'd say you're golden."
A blonde woman in a white coat came around the corner, carrying a chart. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Hey, Padalecki, didn't you just get out of here? Can't keep you away, huh?"
"What can I say, Mack, I'm a slave. What have you got?" He reached for Jonah's chart, flipped it open.
If Allison was surprised at Jared's interest, she didn't show it. "Head injury -- but we've got no external hematoma, no reduction of function." She looked at Jonah and smiled. "His father says he had respiratory trouble and brief loss of consciousness, but pupil reflex is normal. I ran a cranial x-ray just to be sure, but at this point I'm going with Grade One, unless the pictures comes back differently." Allison sounded doubtful about that possibility.
Jared let his fingers relax around the chart. "That's good to hear. Hey, do me a favor, though -- get an EKG going."
Allison nodded, delicate eyebrows raised. "I saw the post-op scarring. He's one of yours?"
And oh, was that an understatement.
"Yeah," he said quietly, then looked over at Jonah and winked. "We go way back, don't we, buddy?"
Jonah nodded, smiling for the first time since Jared saw him. "Uncle Jay fixed my heart."
**
When Jared got back to the waiting room it was like Jensen hadn't moved. He was still standing by the far wall, still wearing his coat, head bent and arms crossed like there was something on the floor he needed to glare into submission. He looked up immediately at the sound of the door opening, face pale and jaw set and suddenly Jared was in a different waiting room two years earlier, deja vu so swift and sudden he almost stopped walking.
He remembered Jensen's face, exhausted and worn, pinched thin with worry until Jared had spoken to him, given him the news. He'd watched all that tension break, and then Jensen had grabbed him, almost shaking with relief, hard fingers digging into Jared's back and the brief, firm touch of his body a shock. Jared couldn't pinpoint one moment and say, it started there, but that one came close. Jared shook off the memory and met Jensen at the desk.
"He's fine," Jared said, not wasting any time.
Jensen looked almost surprised. "Fine?" he blurted. "Really? You're sure?"
"Minor contusion, but he's got clean x-rays, EKG like a greeting card... I'm going to let it run for awhile, but Jen, we checked everything. Nothing to worry about. He's fine."
"But." Jen still looked tense. "You didn't see him. He couldn't breathe."
Jared crossed his arms, considering. "He fell on his back, didn't he?"
Jensen nodded, mouth tightening like he was remembering.
"A hard blow to the back can cause brief paralysis of the diaphragm."
"What? Is that --?"
"In other words, I'm pretty sure he got the wind knocked out of him."
Jensen blinked. Jared schooled his expression so he wouldn't smile.
"He got the wind knocked out of him?" Jensen repeated, and Jared watched the realization finally wash over Jensen's face. His grin was sudden and crooked, hesitantly glad and vaguely embarrassed and Jared had to look down so he wouldn't laugh.
"Yeah." Jared let his own smile slip out.
Jensen's mouth twisted even more. "So what you're saying is, I might have over-reacted?"
"I'm saying that it's possible, yes."
Jensen stood frozen for a moment, focusing on nothing, then rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God. I'm one of those parents, aren't I?" he asked, sounding resigned. "I've become one of them. The over-protective crazy ones."
"The ones we laugh at in the staff room. No, wait, I'm sorry -- that's with. Laugh with."
"Oh, great. That's really great. It's just," Jensen was laughing a little, but it sounded kind of out of control and he couldn't seem to find the words. "It was like before, you know? Just like before. He couldn't breathe."
"Hey, I know," Jared said, suddenly wanting to take it all back because God, he knew how Jensen had felt; had felt his panic like it was his own. "And given his history -- I'd have been shocked if you hadn't shown up here. Only, the thing is, this is nothing like before, Jen. Nothing."
"No?" Jen asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, but sounding disbelieving all the same.
"No," Jared answered firmly. "Trust me, Jen. That valve is as good as new. Jonah's heart is fine." Then he grinned. "Because his surgical team was comprised entirely of gifted geniuses. I can't believe you keep forgetting that."
"Not for a minute," Jensen said, almost under his breath. The he looked up at Jared, embarrassed and gorgeous and smiling for real this time. "Hey, thanks for coming down here like this. I'm sorry that I'm, you know. Insane, now."
For a second Jared was taken aback. "Don't mention it," he said. He looked at Jensen's smile and his still-pale face and the remnants of tension around his eyes, and before he realized it he was reaching out. He put his hand on Jensen's shoulder, curled his fingers briefly over the soft wool and hard muscle underneath; just for a second. Shook it a little. "Of course."
Just for reassurance, Jared told himself. That's all.
"So, hey, can I see my kid, now?" Jensen continued, oblivious.
Jared let go almost immediately, but the contact left him with an echo of warmth he could feel down to his spine. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, would you, please?" he said finally, his voice light. "I think he's working on his escape plan. It doesn't look good for me when they get away."
**
"That's it for Carter Nieran, then," Dr. Morgan said, marking the bottom of the chart with a ballpoint and flipping the folder closed. He moved it to the farthest pile on his desk. "Schedule a six-month follow-up , but we can close the active file." He glanced up at Jared. "You did good work, there."
"Thanks," Jared said, and fought the urge to shift in his chair. Seven years of surgical residency and he had the exact same ear-burning reaction to praise from Jeff Morgan that he'd had when he showed up fresh out of U of Chicago med school. It was embarrassing.
"Okay, who's next?" Jeff asked, immediately back to business.
Jared looked down at his list. "Last one. Abby Creighton," Jared said, sobering. He passed over the chart. "Results from this morning are on top."
Jeff scanned the top page, then tossed the file on his desk. "Hell." He rubbed his eyes.
"EF's dropped to 32%," Jared said, though he knew Jeff could read as well as he could. "Edema under control for now, but the LVAD's only functioning at 75%." A death sentence in detached, professional terms.
"Anything change on the transplant list?" Jeff asked.
Jared shook his head. He checked at least three times a day.
Jeff nodded, lips pressed tight. "Keep me posted."
Jared knew there was nothing else to say at this point, and less to be done, but he didn't have to like it. He was at the door when Jeff spoke again.
"Dr. Padalecki. Have you given any more thought to staying on after March?" Jeff's voice was casual, infinitely careless but the look he gave Jared reminded him of hawks circling over Issaquah.
When had Jared stopped thinking about it was the more accurate question. "Pretty much continuously."
"Plan on reaching a decision at some point?" Jeff seemed to be interrogating him with his eyebrows. For the first two years of Jared's residency just a twitch in the upward direction had been enough to make him cower. Jared thought using them in this context was a little unfair.
"As soon as possible, believe me. I'd like to know myself."
Jeff looked down at a file in front of him. "67."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said, 67. That's the number of septal defect reconstructions you've led in the past two years." Jeff continued reading. "You've assisted on 110. Since you've been on the surgical team, you've performed 32 aortic valve replacements... implanted 23 cavopulmonary shunts... and assisted on four complete transplants. By my count, that's a total of 234 Carter Nierans."
And Jonah Ackles, Jared's mind supplied automatically. Jared swallowed. "I'm proud of that number. And I'm very grateful to have had the opportunity."
Jeff's lips tightened. "I'm not going to pull any punches here. You're a gifted surgeon, Jared. The most promising resident who's ever come through this program. If Glover lures you out to that research lab in Rochester, it's going to be a loss to more than just my surgical team."
"Thank you," Jared said, finally. He didn't think he was capable of saying anything else, other than that he was probably going to file this moment away next to the memory holding his med-school diploma in his hand. Then he cleared his throat. "I'll let you know what my decision is by the first," he said. "I won't leave you and the team in the lurch."
"Good." Jeff looked down at the chart on his desk, then flicked his gaze back up to Jared. "You do know it snows in Rochester?" Jeff asked abruptly, eyes narrow. "Lots of snow. All the time. You should consider that, too."
And apparently after seven years, Jared was still never entirely sure when Jeff was joking, either. "I'll keep that in mind," he said carefully.
"You do that." Jeff nodded.
The one thing Jared was completely sure of was that Jeff's nod was the universal signal for "leave my presence immediately", so Jared headed for the hallway, making turns without seeing where he was going, mind whirling.
The joke of it was that it shouldn't be a decision at all. Rochester should be a slam dunk, the prize in the cereal box that Jared had spent seven years trying to win with Seattle as his launching pad, just the start to his career. It shouldn't be so hard to leave, he told himself. He should never have let the means to an end become more like an end in itself, with work he loved and people he --.
He headed for the closest nurses station and flipped open his cell, needing to talk to Jensen so suddenly he ached. That his first reaction was to call Jensen set off all the vague alarm bells he'd been ignoring for months.
"Jay." Jensen sounded pleased, rushed. "What's going on?"
Jared took a breath. "Well, I still work here."
"Wonderful," Jensen said, sounding distracted. "I'm glad to hear you didn't get fired since last night." Jensen's voice suddenly became muffled. "Larry, are those the transit prints? No, the bottom ones. Yeah, I need them. Thanks. Sorry. So that's a good thing, right?"
"Morgan's pulling out the hard sell."
"Oh, sweet. Cars? Villas in Tuscany?"
"More like professional validation. A little guilt. But I'm sure the villa's next." Jared paused. "I told him I'd make a decision by the first." Jared waited, for what he wasn't exactly sure. He didn't expect Jensen to beg him to stay, not on the basis of a friendship and honorary uncle status with his kid, but was it too much to hope for some kind of an objection, something? For a second, Jared thought he could actually hear crickets in the silence of Jensen's response. "So how's my patient?" he asked a little desperately.
He heard Jensen take a breath. "Apparently rock-headed. And opportunistic. I heard him trying to parley the hospital visit into another day home from school about two seconds after Nala showed up for work. She was totally going to cave."
Jared looked at the ceiling. "Another day? Jen. He's fine."
"I didn't let him stay home. Right away." Jensen kept going before Jared could say anything. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But he's five, it's kindergarten, big deal. He was scared."
So were you, Jared thought. And so was I. And I am so fucked.
"We're going to be at the park tomorrow, like always. Saturday play date with the Rosenbaums, excitement all around," Jensen continued. "You can see him for yourself. Tell me what a pushover of a father I am."
Jared could hear Jensen's smile. He could have drawn it from memory. It was probably way too fucking late for self-preservation to kick in, but maybe he should try. "I don't know if I can make it -- I've got rounds at noon." The excuse sounded weak, even to himself.
"Oh." Jensen waited a beat and then said easily, " Well, we're meeting Mike and Erica at ten." Like it would be different than it's been for the last year. "If you change your mind."
**
"Good morning, Dr. Padalecki."
Jared nodded gravely. "Dr. Rosenbaum."
"I thought Jen said you weren't coming." Mike sat down beside Jared on the park bench, smiling around his latte like a cat. Jared wondered if continual sarcasm made for some mixed messages during patient consultations.
"I wasn't."
"But?"
Jared tried to take a sip of his own coffee but it was still hot enough that drinking it would mean skin grafts. "I didn't want to miss today's fifteen minutes of official sunlight." He looked across the playground to where Jensen was chasing Jonah and Mike's son Tyler around the jungle-gym, growling and flinging his arms in the air as the two boys screamed in terrified joy.
"Or your chance to worship from afar," Mike drawled, dry as sand. His twitch of a grin took the sting out of it.
"Have I told you that I find your interest in this situation vaguely disturbing?" Jared asked. He propped his elbows on the back of the bench.
"Oh, come on. How could I not? We're all friends; it's fascinating. Like theater." Mike smirked. "Musical theater..."
"It's very, very wrong that you, of all people, are the only one enjoying this." Jared glanced briefly at Mike. "Not that I consider it your fault in any way. Oh, wait."
"Oh, no. You're not putting this on me." Mike sounded amused, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I just referred his son to you. I had no way of knowing it would give you a two-year hard-on." Mike sipped his coffee. "Besides. Now he spends more time with you than he does with me, so obviously, I'm the injured party here. Believe me, if I'd known..." Jonah screeched his way down the slide while Jensen roared, grabbed his son at the bottom and flipped him upside down to the sound of Jonah's hysterical laughter. "I'd have done it anyway."
Jared tipped his coffee toward Mike. Jensen had turned Jonah right side up now, and was pointing out Jared sitting on the bench. Jonah started running but Jensen just stood back and smiled, wearing some soft-looking gray sweater and dark jeans that Hugo Boss should be paying him to wear. Jared sighed gloomily.
"Pathetic," Mike commented.
Jared was saved from answering by Jonah barreling into him, jumping into his lap and practically knocking him off the bench.
"Dad said you weren't coming!"
"Coffee, coffee!" Jared warned, holding it out of the way. He smiled. "Dude. Like I'd miss our park date."
Jonah frowned suddenly, thinking. "Hey, will you come to my t-ball games? Dad said me and Tyler are gonna play t-ball next year and that's on Saturday, too. But it's okay, if you come to that instead."
"T-ball, huh?" Jared said weakly. Obviously Jensen hadn't said anything to Jonah about Jared leaving. Or possibly leaving. Jared wasn't sure how to process that. "That's so cool, buddy. Yeah, if I can. Sure."
That seemed to satisfy Jonah, who immediately jumped down and ran back to where Jensen was waiting for Tyler to take his turn on the slide. Jared watched him go and saw Mike's wife Erica break away from a group of people talking at the side of the playground. Her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail that fell in one perfectly straight, shining blonde line from the back of her head to the middle of her back, large sunglasses in perfect proportion to her face like everything else about her. She always made Jared feel like he should tuck in his shirt.
"Oh, good, Jared -- you're here," Erica said. "I never trust Mike with these things. I want to make sure you've got the 18th on your calendar."
Jared blinked at her, drawing a blank until he saw Mike's frantic nod as he mouthed something that looked like, "Party".
"Oh, sure. Of course. The 18th. It's in stone."
"Dude. You can't miss the 18th," Jensen said, walking up with Jonah on his back and Tyler hanging off his leg. "It's the Christmakuh Party."
"I thought we decided to go with Hannamas," Mike said.
"No," Erica said, with a pleasantly brittle calm. "That's what you two decided. And that was last year. This year, the Tehrani's are coming, and Allison celebrates solstice -- if you have to call it anything, why can't you go with... The Rosenbaum's Pan-Cultural Holiday Event?" She waved a hand, the sun flashing off a diamond the size of a marble. "I get half my first quarter bookings from this thing. Jokes make me cranky."
"My wife, gentlemen," Mike said lightly, slipping an arm around her waist. "Love her and despair."
"Every day, baby." Erica kissed his cheek. "Jay? The 18th. Tyler? Whatever that is, put it down." Erica walked back toward the playground as Jonah and Tyler ran for the swings.
Mike watched them for second and stood up. "Well. I'm going to go push my kid. And for God's sake, Jared," he said, walking off. "Write that date down. I like my life."
"It's down, it's down," Jared called after him and tossed his coffee cup in the trash. He rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God. I better get going. I've got rounds and a consultation with Morgan at one. Fuck." He glanced at Jensen, who had sat down next to him. "I'd rather stay here."
"Morgan buy you that villa yet?" Jensen asked after a moment, watching the kids on the swings.
"I'm sure it's in the works." Jared decided staring at Jensen's profile was getting more ridiculously obvious than usual, and looked away. "You didn't tell Jonah, huh?" He was surprised how much that question hurt.
Jensen shrugged. "Nothing's definite, right? Why upset him?" Jensen turned to look at him, eyes serious and intent. "You've got to know how much he'd miss you."
Jared stared back, holding his breath because for a second it seemed like there was more in Jensen's words than Jared's own wishful thinking. Jensen looked away almost immediately and the moment was gone.
"Sometimes I think he still doesn't really get why Alona's not here anymore," Jensen went on.
"Really?" Jared was surprised and vaguely uncomfortable. Jensen didn't mention Alona often. "He was so little when she left..."
"She's his mother, Jay. It doesn't matter how little he was." He shook his head. Jen's smile was wry as he stood up. "He doesn't need to think about someone else he loves leaving. Not until he has to." He nodded toward the swings. "I'm going to get back over there. Take care."
Jared nodded, feeling dazed. "You, too."
Jensen walked off with a backward half-wave that Jared remembered the whole way to work, replaying the whole conversation in his head until the moment Abby Creighton's world blew up, and then there was no time to think of anything else.
**
Jensen lived on First street, downtown overlooking the Harbor Steps and the the bay itself. He could walk to the art museum across the street, to Pike's a block away, and to no less than three sushi restaurants in five minutes. As Jared looked up at his building and counted two windows over on the fifteenth floor, he wondered why he'd never noticed before that the location wasn't exactly cut out for kids.
Jensen's light was on. Jared was eternally glad Jensen was used to him calling at bizarre hours.
"Jay?" Jensen sounded surprised but awake.
"Hey, how's it going?"
Jared was going for casual, but apparently it didn't work, because Jensen immediately said, "Something wrong?"
"No, not really. Just -- kind of a long day. Look, I've got something for Jonah." That he'd bought by impulse on the way to the hospital, because at the moment it had seemed really important. Now it was hard to remember why.
"Now? Where are you?"
"Downstairs. But hey, if you're busy..." Sudden realization hit. "God, what time is it?"
"Don't worry about it," Jensen said abruptly. "Just come up."
**
Jensen was leaning in the open doorway when Jared came out of the elevator. "Hey," he said. Jensen was barefoot, with his shirt untucked over old jeans and he looked rumpled and sleepy and Jared really, really wanted to touch him.
Apparently exhaustion made Jared stupid. "I wanted to bring this for Jonah." He held up the bag.
Jensen looked at it. Took it carefully. "That's great," Jensen said. "Only, it's after eleven, dude. He's sleeping."
"Eleven? Fuck. I've been in surgery, I lost track. I'm sorry --"
"Hey, I'm awake, it's no problem. Go sit down." He stepped back and Jared followed him into the room.
Jared sank onto the thick leather sofa as Jensen went into the kitchen. Jensen's apartment was two bedrooms and a large living area, all leather and warm, dark colors that some decorator probably thought would work for two "men" on their own, even if one of them was five. Jared remembered when Jensen had moved there, a month or two after Jonah got out of the hospital, and right about when they'd started doing things together without Mike and Erica always being there, too. It had seemed like a happy coincidence that his place was so close to the hospital. Now Jared wondered if Jensen chose this place because he could get there fast if he needed to.
Oh, God, Jen.
Jared saw movement in the hallway, looked up to see Jonah leaning sleepily against the door.
"Hey, kiddo," he said softly. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
Jonah nodded, but immediately walked over to climb into Jared's lap; a warm, sleepy weight that sent comfort through Jared's body, so unexpected it made his throat tighten.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked, his voice raw.
"S'okay."
"Hey, I brought you something." Jared reached carefully for the bag on the coffee table, and handed it to Jonah.
"What is it?" Jonah asked, with a sleepy seriousness that made Jared smile.
"Open it and find out."
Jonah opened the bag and fished out the kid-size baseball glove, blue and dull silver. He smiled, too. "It's a mitt."
"For t-ball," Jared said. "You and your dad can practice. I wanted you to have it now." In case he wasn't there in the spring.
The thought hurt, even more than he expected, but Jonah looked happy and that was the important thing. He reached up to hug Jared, small arms winding around his neck. Jonah was warm and solid and smelled like baby shampoo, and Jared felt his tension unwinding with every second.
"Hey, buddy, say thank you," Jensen said quietly, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Jared leaned back to see Jonah's face. "It's okay -- he's half-asleep." He looked back up to see Jensen staring thoughtfully at the glove in Jonah's hands.
"You know, you never need an excuse," Jensen said.
And God, Jared knew that, counted on that, maybe more times than he probably should have, showing up at Jensen's door when he just couldn't face going home, but the words went right through him anyway. All Jared could do was nod, not quite trusting his voice. He looked away and noticed the square coffee table in the living room was covered with blueprints, and there was light burning over Jensen's drafting table next to the window.
"You were working, huh?" Jared asked in a strangled voice, feeling like the king of the obvious.
"I've got a presentation on Monday," Jensen said. He handed Jared a mug and sat down in the chair next to the couch with one of his own. "Updating the planning commission for about the twentieth time. I'm going to be so freaking glad when this transit project is over." He sat back and closed his eyes. "In four years."
"I'll let you get on that, then." Jared looked down at the mug. "This isn't coffee."
Jensen looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "Like you need coffee. It's soup. Kind of experimental." He lifted his own mug, peered into it. "My latest attempt to disguise vegetables as food." Jared must have looked alarmed because Jensen rolled his eyes. "It's edible. I figured you probably didn't eat today."
Jared tried to remember. "Power bars."
Jensen raised his eyebrows. "Jay, you look like hell. Why didn't you go home?"
That was the million dollar question. Jared ignored it; sipped the soup and closed his eyes in relief. "You know something? This is actually good."
"Don't sound so shocked." Jensen seemed amused. "I have skills."
Jared took another sip and gave the easy answer. "I can't go home yet -- I've got a patient in ICU I need to check on in a few hours."
They sat there in silence. Finally Jensen asked, "I guess it didn't go well?"
Jared shrugged slightly, careful not to dislodge Jonah. He set the mug on the table. "As well as we could expect. We got her through the crisis, anyway." He put his head back and closed his eyes. He felt like his body was dissolving into the couch. "But everything we did today? Stopgap."
"What do you mean?"
"She needs a transplant. We didn't really give her that much time." The clock ticking in the kitchen seemed ridiculously loud. Jared tried to appreciate the irony. "I keep thinking that in Rochester I wouldn't ever be having that particular conversation with anyone's parents again."
He was almost dozing when Jensen finally spoke.
"You gave her tomorrow, though," Jensen said softly. "Her parents, too."
His voice sounded so odd that Jared opened his eyes. Jensen was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at his clasped hands. "When I was in that waiting room, during Jonah's operation?" Jensen's jaw clenched tightly for a second. "I couldn't imagine anything past that minute. It was like there was nothing beyond that room, that second in time. You know why?"
Jared shook his head, mute. Jensen had never talked about this before. Not to him. He was afraid to break the spell.
"Because there wasn't anything." Jensen looked up at Jared, eyes bleak with memory. "That was my son, my baby. You had the whole world in there, Jay, in one room." He looked at Jonah. "I may as well have been on that operating table, too. But then you came out and I had a life again." He smiled helplessly and Jay felt something in his chest give way. "That's what you gave those people today."
I can't do this, Jared thought blankly. I can't be here with you.
Jensen looked away. "Are you on-call right now?"
For a second Jensen's words didn't make any sense at all. "No," Jared said. His voice sounded thrashed. "Not until tomorrow morning. I want to go back over there, though."
"Go lay down for a little while." Jensen spoke over Jared's protest, standing up. "You've got your phone, you're 10 minutes away. Just rest for a few hours." Jensen leaned close, warm hands brushing Jared's chest as he picked Jonah up, and Jared instantly imagined pulling Jensen down instead; keeping the three of them on the couch, close and safe.
The thought was so vivid that Jared automatically stood and headed into Jensen's bedroom before he'd realized what he'd done; realized he'd be laying down on Jensen's bed in Jensen's room, like he needed anything else to fuel his fantasies. But the down comforter was covered in something almost like suede, the light on the dresser dim, and it looked so inviting he decided he'd just have to live with it. He kicked off his shoes and fell on the bed. He was staring at the ceiling, shocked he hadn't just passed out, when Jensen appeared to lean in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
"You good here?" Jensen asked, voice low. "Need a blanket or something?"
Jared shook his head, almost too tired to move. "No, I'm fine. What are you going to do?"
Jensen shifted. "I've got to finish up."
And God, maybe it was the warmth, or the exhaustion that made his head spin, or maybe just the way Jensen was leaning in the doorway like everything Jared wanted and maybe something that he could have. Jared's defenses crumpled like paper.
"You could lay down with me," Jared said.
The words just hung there with the silence stretching around them, longer and longer, until Jared frantically tried to think of a way to make them sound like anything but an unmistakable invitation. He laughed shortly, an awkward croak. "Plenty of room."
Jensen swallowed, his expression blank. "I always..." He trailed off, staring at Jared. Tried again. "I sleep on the couch all the time. It's okay. Good night, Jay."
Jared just nodded, having just enough time to feel a single, sharp stab of disappointment before exhaustion reached up and dragged him down.
to part 2
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*sprints off to read part two*
I LOVE this!!!! Doctor!Jared is SO awesome.
PS:
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Off to the second part now!!
*hugs*
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Off to read the next part...
-C-
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Are you planning on ever going back and revisiting these characters? I would love to know what happens to them in the future.
*hugs*
-C-
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Welcome....thanks for writing.
*hugs*
-C-
Amazed
Re: Amazed
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Sandy/sherrold
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And if you ever write another story set in Seattle, swing it my way for a local beta, okay?)
hee! I think this is the fandom of equivalent of "If you're in town, give me a call." Thanks, hon! :D
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I got permission from
I hope you enjoy it!
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(and oh, man -- I'm so tech-illiterate -- I don't know what the difference between a podbook and a podfic is. *desk* But I dl'd, thanks! *g*)
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A podbook (m4b) just adds a cover, makes it automatically bookmarkable, and, for those with iTunes, moves it out of the Music folder and into a separate Audiobooks folder where it won't be seen or heard when browsing or listening to songs. It also then automatically shows up in an Audiobooks playlist on an iPod.
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Podbooks (audiobooks) are awesome. That's why I stopped making them just for myself and started compiling them for everyone. :)
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And yes to "So Close to My Heart". Jared's dedication and the the feeling that he saved all there was in the life of the parents by giving their child one more day makes me cry every single time I read (or hear) it. Which is quite a lot actually :)
Love this to bits. Thank you.
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