San Antonio. Texas, 2007

The house was small and white with tiny blue flowers all lined up in a row at the curb side. The post box said Kane, but when the glass windowed door swung open, the woman behind it was not the Kane James had been hoping for.

Tipping her a smile, James held out a hand. "James Marsters, ma'am. I'm looking for Christian Kane." Her curious smile dimmed a little, the dimples he had recognized as Kane's vanishing.

She held the door open wide. "I'm Jenny, his granddaughter. You'd better come on in."

Nodding his thanks, James followed Jenny into the house and was immediately besieged by walls full of photographs. The line of Kane's hallway was a story in the development of the camera film, from faded black and white snaps to glowing sepia, colors slowly mutating into full bloom. There was a very masculine feel to the place, very little lace and dozens of pictures of cars. Kane never married, James knew. His son was born out of wedlock, and he'd raised the kid with the help of friends.

There wasn't much James didn't know about Christian Kane. He's come prepared, hours of his research spent off topic in preparation for this meeting. He followed Kane's granddaughter into the sitting room and was presented to the man he could only assume was Kane himself. The latest picture James had seen of the man had presented a figure that had lived life full and well, his face lined with graft and laughter. That had been taken some years ago now, Kane now well past the seventy road mark. His hair was entirely white, bleached by age and sunshine, and his face was decorated with a map of lines that told a story all of their own.

Despite his age, Kane's eyes were still sharper and bluer than any eyes James had seen before. He eyed James curiously, taking in every detail. "What can I do for you, boy?" He asked.

Jenny left them be after taking James' order for coffee, leaving the two men alone in the room.

Steadying his nerves, James stepped straight on in, no small talk, no 'you have a beautiful home,' "I'm looking for Jared Padalecki."

Kane blinked slowly, his old face registering surprise and a strange amount of sadness. He sat straighter in his chair and fixed James with a stern stare. "I ain't heard that name in a long time." He admitted. "What you wanting with Jared?"

"I have some questions for him." James said quietly.

Accepting a cup and saucer of coffee from Jenny, Kane eased himself back down with a wince. "Fucking arthritis," he complained once his granddaughter was out of earshot. "I ain't seen Jared Padalecki in close to forty years now."

James' heart sank. He'd been counting on Kane. The man was his last resort. He needed to hear Padalecki's side of the story. He needed to see the full picture. "Do you know where he is?" He asked a little desperately. "It is vitally important that I-"

"Oh I know where he is alright." Kane laughed heartily. "1186 ST Michael's Street. He's in the plot furthest from the church boundaries, under the oak tree."

The bottom dropped out of James' stomach. "He's dead?"

"Very." Kane said gruffly, his eyes dark. "Family tried to keep it quiet when they brought him back here. Couldn't burry him in consecrated grounds, of course-"

James spat out a mouthful of sweet coffee. "He was a suicide?!"

"Hmm. Threw himself off a bridge, the crazy fucker. Made a right mess." Kane spoke almost affectionately of his dead friend, and James absently wondered how many of them he had seen buried over the years.

Just like that, the bottom fell out of James' hard work. All his efforts were for nothing without Padalecki. "When?" James asked in a whisper.

Shrugging, Kane drained his teacup, the china delicate in Kane's large, wrinkled hands. "Was forty years ago this year." His gaze grew distant. "Doesn't seem like five minutes." Coughing, he cleared his throat. "Now what was it you wanted to ask him?"

James sighed and flopped down restlessly in one of the wicker backed chairs littered around the room. "I wanted to ask him about Jensen Ackles."

China clattered nosily. James started and looked up. Kane's face had stilled, his eyes fierce and his teeth bared. "What do you know about that?" He hissed angrily, the words escaping through his clenched jaw.

Unperturbed, James glared right on back. "I know he knew Ackles. I know he was probably the last person to see him alive."

To his surprise, Christian laughed. "And what if he was?"

Swallowing his unease at the old man's candor, James pressed on. "There are a great deal of discrepancies regarding Ackles' death. Crime scene reports that went missing, an autopsy that recorded his appendix, despite him having an appendectomy at the age of seventeen, the 911 call that came from a phone box at the end of Ackles' street, ten minutes after a previous call was made from inside Ackles' home. Take your pick."

Kane's eyebrow rose. "I'm not sure if I should admire your enthusiasm or find your actions somewhat sinister." He said dryly.

"I'm just looking for the truth."

"The truth?" Kane scoffed. "The truth is that Hollywood's golden boy was as fucked up as he was a flaming cocksucker."

James choked and blinked. "So you admit that he had sexual relations with Jared Padalecki?"

"Relations?" Kane snorted. "They damn near made out on the dance floor in the middle of my set." He said mildly. "Gave my girlfriend fantasies for a month." There was a wicked twinkle in his eyes that made James wonder what Christian would have been like as a younger man.

Leaning forward, James hung eagerly on every word. "How did they meet?"

Christian sighed. "I only know what Jared told me. Of course the bastard went into rather graphic detail, but he always did get carried away with himself…"

James fished a recorder out of his pocket. "You mind?" Kane shook his head and settled comfortably in his chair.

"It was winter of 66. Syria had just allied itself with Jordan, and Walt Disney dropped dead of lung disease. We were still at war with the Vietnamese, and quite frankly, they were kicking our asses. Jensen was the biggest name in Hollywood and Jared worked at a club in downtown LA with my girlfriend, Sandy. I played there a couple a times a week. The place was a dive, but it had good spirit, and Connor McManus kept the beer running strong. Jared was usually one of the last to leave…"

________________________________________

Los Angeles 1966

The way Jared saw it, tonight could go three ways. He could tell Liam upfront that no, he didn't have his cash, and he's just have to wait. In which case he'd likely wake up at the bottom of the river.

Or he could calmly suggest they reach a suitable compromise like gentlemen. In which case he might wake up sore, but in an environment more suited to his survival

Or he could avoid the conversation altogether and hope Liam simply forgot.

Unlikely.

Cursing, he huddled beneath his thin jacket as the rain poured down from above. LA was not known for its rain, so naturally it had to pick the worst night of Jared's life to open the heavens on him.

Sticking to the well lit roads between the bar and the rendezvous point he had set with Liam and his band of Merry Men, Jared kept his footsteps small in the hope of drawing out any time he had left before he lost several important limbs.

He took the old railway bridge to take the route closer to his home and paused as he squinted through the rain.

It looked like he wasn't the only one having a bad night.

Standing with his back to Jared, a man had climbed out over the barrier and looked down onto the disused track bellow.

For all that he had his own problems, Jared couldn't in good conscious walk away.

Cursing the little voice in his head that edged him closer, Jared hastily looked around to see if he could call on anyone else for assistance.

There was no one. Just him and the rain to convince a man not to end his life.

Wonderful.

"You know," he said casually when he was close enough to reach out and grab the man if he looked set to jump, "You're gonna cause a lot of people a really big headache if you do that. Myself included."

Startled, the man on the other side of the barrier jumped, only his white knuckled grip on the unsteady poles keeping him from a painful, not to mention messy, death. "Stay back." He stuttered. "I'll jump."

"I figured." Jared said dryly. "Look, if you want to kill yourself, can't you just O.D on morphine? Hell of a lot less painful."

The man looked at him as if he had lost his mind as well as his umbrella. "Wha?"

Jared shrugged. "No, I mean it. You've picked a pretty lousy place to jump from. Fall probably won't kill you. Just break a fuck load of bones. You'll be left there all night, hell, possibly all tomorrow. Awake, and aware, and completely fucked to hell."

He wasn't sure it was possible for a man to be whiter than his would be jumper already was, but at Jared's words, he turned the color of sour milk.

"What do you say you climb on over here. If you still feel like topping yourself we'll go find you a six shooter. Or you could join the army. That's damn near suicide these days." Jared held out a hand and hoped his bullshitting wasn't about to land him with nightmares for the rest of his life. However short it may be.

The jumper frowned, his lip caught between bright white teeth.

Then he moved.

A pale hand settled perfectly in Jared's, the skin damp and feverishly warm when his fingers closed around it. The railing wobbled precariously, and Jared held on tighter. "My name's Jared." He offered, smiling through the rain.

For a moment Jared was simply fixed with a quiet, intense stare. "You are crazier than I am." The jumper said, his teeth chattering. Then a slow smile broke out across his mystery man's face, and the puzzle all at once fell into place.

Jensen fucking Ackles.

Mister motherfucking Hollywood himself.

Jared's jaw dropped as Ackles shuffled around to get a better grip on his hand. At that vital moment, his palm, suddenly sweat slick and shaky, slid against the actor's and the flimsy barrier finally gave way.

Ackles was no feather weight, the sudden jarring snap of his entire weight pulled tight across Jared's shoulder and they both cried out. Jared clawed desperately at the damaged remains of the barrier, searching for his own anchor even as he was unable to look away from the wide, startled green eyes that pinned him from below. If nothing else, Jared had enough evidence to convince himself that his little would-be-suicide was as terrified of death as he seemed to be of life.

"I got ya." Jared grunted, the strain pulling at every muscle from his fingers to his calves. The grip he had on Ackles was slippery and desperate, one handed as he struggled to ground them both. With every passing second, it threatened to break completely.

He had just pulled Ackles back from the abyss. He had no intention of letting him fall now.

"Please." Ackles whispered, his voice almost lost under the pounding of Jared's heart. "Don't let go. Don't..." He trailed off and scrunched his eyes tightly together, his free hand reaching up to cling to Jared with greater urgency.

Jared had made a lot of promises before in his life. He'd failed to keep more than half. This time, he swore that God himself would not stop him. "I won't let you go. I promise. I won't let you fall." Throwing all his weight back, Jared jammed his knees against the stump of the barrier and heaved Jensen a foot higher. His shoulder burned. A path of fire racing across his back as muscles flared into action without warning. One more look down at Ackles' pale face, rain damp, tear smeared and blotchy, such a far cry from the polished perfection Jared felt he should be seeing, and resolve settled heavy in his gut.

He heaved again, a pained growl escaping his lips as he struggled to counter balance Ackles' weight and the force of gravity.

The effort was worth it. Showing a sense of self preservation for the first time since they had met, Ackles reached out and grabbed a hold of the bridge gutter long enough for Jared to get a better grasp on him. Working together they were able to awkwardly haul him up and across the broken barrier to safety.

Jared got an arm around Ackles' waist, grateful for the stability of the grip, and they both fell sideways, panting heavily.

Ackles hit the ground first, Jared still wound around him, pressing him down against the cold sidewalk. "I'm Jensen." Ackles' gasped, making no move to shift Jared from on top of him.

Jared nodded, his face against Jensen's throat. "I noticed." He panted. Looking up, Jensen's face pressed against his own, Jared fully understood Sandy's fascination with him. Jensen had impossibly green eyes and the softest, fullest lips he had ever seen. He was also soaked to the bone, wet and shivering under the blanket Jared's body had formed. "You okay?" He asked cautiously, unsure how Jensen would react to the question. It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't okay, but that wasn't what Jared meant.

Jensen nodded shakily and accepted Jared's hand once again, this time without apparent thought, and let himself be pulled to his feet.

"Jesus," Jared shook his head. "How long have you been out here?"

Jensen shrugged, arms wrapping protectively around his middle as his shivering grew worse. Without thought, Jared shrugged off his own jacket and wrapped it around the actor's shoulders, something inside clenching at the startled look he received in response.

Huddling an arm around Jensen's shoulders, Jared asked, "Where can I take you? You live close by?"

Jensen shook his head and Jared realized it had been a stupid question. People like Jensen didn't live within spitting distance of people like Jared. "I don't even know where here is." Jensen admitted quietly.

"Hmm," Jared muttered, "well, let me be the first to welcome you to Downtown." He flashed Jensen a grin in the hopes that it might cheer him up a little. It didn't work. "I could call you a cab." He offered, knowing there was a payphone at the end of the street. "You need to get home and into something dry."

Jensen pulled out from under Jared's arm and glared. "No. I really don't."

Growling impatiently, Jared shook his head and pulled Jensen close again when the actor swayed violently on the spot. "You ever have hypothermia before?" He asked, not waiting for a reply before continuing, "No, of course you haven't. Believe me, it ain't pretty."

Again, Jensen tried to pull away. Jared let him. "You don't have to babysit me, thank you. I appreciate you stepping in back there, but you can leave now." He said angrily, as if he had merely been involved in a minor scuffle at a bar and not attempted to take a nose dive onto a train line.

Jared snorted. "Right, I'm really gonna leave you by yourself in downtown LA." He'd ask if the actor had a death wish, but well, he supposed that was a little redundant. "You're not in the burbs now, sweetheart. It ain't safe round here at night. No telling who you might stumble across."

"No telling who I have already stumbled across." Jensen shot back acidly.

Jared rolled his eyes. "Right. I just saved your ass, nearly dislocated my damn shoulder in the process," he rolled said shoulder and winced, "only to drag you into an alley and have my wicked way with you." He rolled his eyes across Jensen's body, taking in the wet shirt, thin slacks and unlaced shoes. "You ain't got a penny on you." He declared, "Not even a watch I could fence. If you're lucky you might get ransomed off to whatever rich friend you have waiting at home for you. Personally I'd figure you were more likely to get left to bleed out on the street."

Oddly enough, that actually brought a twitch of amusement to Jensen's lips. "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

Huffing, Jared rolled his eyes, "I am trying to get you to take a cab home, or somewhere safe, wherever. Hell, call the cops for all I care." Jensen flinched. Cops, Jared supposed, equaled the press. Jesus, they were gonna cream their pants once this got out. Hollywood heartthrob in failed suicide attempt.

"And if I refuse?" Jensen asked, huddling inside Jared's jacket, his jaw set stubbornly.

Jared shrugged. "Then I will have no choice but to kidnap you and take you home with me until the morning." He said easily, hands stuffed in his pockets. "But could you decide sooner rather than later? It's fucking freezing."

Eyeing him warily, Jensen slowly uncoiled himself and stood tall. It lasted for all of a second, before he faltered and looked down at the ground. "There's no one I can call." He said quietly.

Great, just perfect. "What big hotshot like you must have a library full of phone numbers." Jared laughed.

Jensen said nothing, and the laughter soured in Jared's stomach. He hadn't meant to- fuck. His hair was soaking when he ran his hand through it, and he couldn't get Jensen's miserable face out of his mind. He'd meant what he said. Leaving Jensen alone out here all night was just asking for trouble. He let out a heavy breath of air so loudly that it made Jensen flinch. "Alright, well, it's been a while since my last felony. Might as well get back on the horse." He shot Jensen a sideways glare, "If anyone asks, I dragged you kicking and screaming all the way, okay? I have a reputation to protect."

Finally, finally he got a laugh. It was small and pained, but there, and it eased the knot that had begun forming in his chest.

"Cross my heart." Jensen whispered.

*****

Jared was rarely embarrassed by his lifestyle. He'd made the best of what he had, which wasn't all that much. His home was clean, and it was dry, and so what if it was probably smaller than Jensen's broom closet?

That wasn't to say he didn't kick the newspaper under the couch, or shove the morning's breakfast dishes in the sink before he huddled Jensen into the sitting room-cum-dining room-cum-social area.

The actor didn't seem to pay much attention to the peeling wallpaper or the faded couch, barely glancing up from his toes the entire trip from bridge to bathroom. He only showed any signs of awareness when Jared stripped him and threw him bodily in the tub. Even then he simply continued to adopt that stray kitten body curl, oddly silent and subdued once the adrenalin had worn off. Jared made it a point not to let his gaze wander to places it had no business wandering and busied himself with the water. He knew better than to turn the heat on full blast. Jensen was young, but for all Jared knew he could have a heart condition. The last thing he wanted was to send the actor further into shock by drastically screwing his body temperature up.

Finally, after a great deal of cursing and complaining, he got the water running just right and let Jensen slowly warm in the heated bath. He left to prepare for Jensen's stay, putting the kettle on the burner as he passed, and pulling clean bedding out of the closet. One ear was always kept open, just in case Jensen decided to drown himself in the bath.

As he worked, he tried to get his head around the facts of the night. He had Jensen Ackles, arguably the most famous actor alive, fighting off hyperthermia in his bathtub.

Sandy was going to flip.

"You want coffee or hot chocolate?" Jared called into the bathroom. There was no working door between the two rooms, and he could see Jensen's shoulder in the reflection of the hallway mirror. He got no answer, so he made chocolate in the hope that the drink would help the actor sleep better. By the time he was ready, the bedcovers turned back and two hot water bottles stuffed under the comforter, Jensen had pulled himself out of the bath and dressed in the clothing Jared had left for him. The sleeves hung over the tips of his fingers and he'd not bothered to roll up the cuffs of the pants, so they pooled around his feet on the floor. He reminded Jared of a sleepy little boy wearing his daddy's clothes, and it was against every instinct he had that he led Jensen to the bed without bestowing a hug of some kind.

Jensen gripped the chocolate he was passed without adjusting the length of his sleeves, obediently draining the warm drink before settling under the covers.

It wasn't as if Jared was tucking him in, merely making sure he was warm enough…

When he pulled back, he caught a glimpse of the same fear he had seen earlier that evening as he had pulled Jensen back over the edge. "Get some sleep." Jared encouraged, not reaching out to brush the hair from Jensen's eyes as he really wished to.

Again, Jensen said nothing, and within five minutes of his head hitting the pillow, he was fast asleep.

Jared watched him for the rest of the hour, though he was at a loss to explain why. Finally he gathered the bedding he had removed and set up camp on the couch.

He didn't sleep that night.

*****

Jensen shuffled into the kitchen in an oversized pair of slacks and a pale green shirt, and Jared was once again forced to compute the knowledge that he had the most famous actor in the world standing in his one bedroom rundown apartment. Jensen looked nothing like the polished, slick figure of Hollywood dynasties, and extraordinary attractiveness aside, his hunched shoulders and tousled hair would have seem more in place at the local tram shelter.

Jared greeted him with a glass of juice and a kind smile. The glass was chipped, but it was the only one he had without rude figures on the side. Jensen accepted it warily, holding the juice as if he still wasn't certain of Jared's motives. Jared couldn't help but frown. He'd let the actor sleep through the night -in Jared's own bed, mind you- unmolested and comfortable. That had to go some way in buying a little trust, surely?

After a tentative swallow, Jensen relaxed a little, and his shoulders eased out of the bow tight set that looked painful just to watch. "Thank you." He muttered, lips pressed close to the rim of the glass.

"You're welcome." Jared replied, leaning back against the counter and eyeing Jensen critically. For a man who had always looked perfect on screen and larger than life, Jensen was both shorter and skinnier than Jared. He held his hands close, as if he expected to have to defend himself at a moment's notice, and the bright green eyes that Sandy had once called 'enchanting' darted nervously around in search of an escape route. If this man was the epitome of the Hollywood dream, Jared failed to see the appeal.

Jensen passed the empty glass back with hands that shook only slightly. Sunlight reflected off the window and lit a golden sheen across Jensen's eyes, and Jared could perfectly recall the terror he had seen in them the night before. As if following his train of thought, Jensen shuffled and forced himself to look at Jared. "Look, about last night-"

"It's fine." Jared said quickly, wanting to erase the utter mortification he read in Jensen's eyes almost as much as he wanted to find a way around the unquestionably awkward conversation that would follow. He wasn't a head doctor- how the hell did he talk to a man who tried to top himself?

Jensen shook his head rapidly, "No, I mean, I don't, I didn't, fuck-" he broke off.

"I didn't think you-"

"I mean it's not like I have anything to-"

"Right."

"So, thank you." Jensen shuffled on the spot, finally meeting Jared's eyes.

Jared nodded. "Look," he said, "since you're here, and since the last thing I want to do is turn you out on the street just for you to come up with a more imaginative way to meet your maker."

Jensen flushed. "I won't."

"Well forgive me if I don't believe you. Look, it's none of my business, and you can tell me to fuck off, but whatever the fuck you are going through, is it really worth dying over?"

Jensen's eyebrow rose. "Fuck off." He said mildly, a touch of a smile edging at his lips.

Jared grinned. "Yeah, okay." He laughed. "Look, if you wanted to repay me for last night, there is something you can do for me."

Jensen tensed, his eyes narrowing warily. "What?"

"There is this funfair in the park, see, and all the rides are two person only. No one at work will go with me, because they are all boring fuckers."

"You want to take me to a funfair?" Jensen asked incredulously.

"Yep." Jared nodded.

"You are crazy."

Weighing his hands like a pair of scales, Jared simply grinned. "Pot, Kettle, Kettle, Pot. It'll be fun." He said, wiggling his eyebrows. "And since I technically kidnapped you, I can drag you to a fair if I want to."

"Utterly insane." Jensen shook his head in amazement.

"There's candy floss in it for ya if you say yes." Jared pleaded.

"Can't I just write you a check?" The actor said a little desperately.

Jared shrugged. "I dunno, can you put a price on your life?"

Jensen stopped frowning and bit his lip."Do I have a choice?"

"No." Jared said brightly. "Not really."

*****

Jared did have a reason for dragging Jensen to a funfair, the two on a ride rule aside. If the actor was going to kill himself as soon as Jared let him loose on the world, then he wanted Jensen to at least have had a fun last day on earth.

Besides, the candy floss really was good.

For all his initial reluctance, Jensen treated the fair with more childlike glee than most of the kids running around their feet. He tried to hide it, but Jared caught the way his eyes lit up and gave himself a mental pat on the back. There was nothing like a funfair to solve the problem of suicide. If Jensen had really been serious about killing himself, he'd have topped himself at the first tea-cup ride.

"What next?" He asked, resisting the urge to lick Jensen's candy sticky lips.

The actor looked up at the big wheel, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Jared's smile froze. Fucking perfect. "Super." He squeaked.

Halfway up, his knuckles turned white as the don't look down mantra rolled over and over in his mind.

"You okay?" Jensen asked, his eyebrow raised high and his lips tipped down into a frown. Jared nodded bluntly and refused to look down.

"I'm good." He hissed, teeth clenched. "Just don't like heights, s'all."

"Then why in the Hell are we up here?" Jensen exclaimed. His hand found Jared's and squeezed tightly. Jared simply shook his head, furious with his own stupidity. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves- he was supposed to be showing Jensen the time of his life. Not freaking out sixty feet up.

"It's fine. I'm good. I'm fine. I'm good. I'm-" He never got the chance to finish his whispered delusions. Jensen caught his face lightly against his palm and as Jared opened his mouth to ramble on, his quiet mutterings were silenced by the feather light press of Jensen's lips against his.

Jared was so surprised he could not immediately respond. Jensen's hands were soft on his skin, his lips warm and gentle against Jared's. When Jensen pulled back, he let his forehead rest against Jared's, a sweet smile on his lips. "I won't let you fall." He promised, whispering the same words Jared had promised him the night before.

They were back on the ground and across the park before Jared's head left the clouds. Grinning stupidly, he pulled Jensen into the House of Mirrors. If he was going to kiss Jensen back, he wanted to have the best view possible. Slipping the tender an extra twenty to hold back the next entrants, Jared steered Jensen through the gate.

"You're crazy." Jensen laughed at Jared's dazed grin. Jared shrugged. He fastened his arms around Jensen's waist and backed him into the wall of mirrors, his lips silencing Jensen's laughter.

The actor must have had hours of practice kissing, Jared though dizzily as his tongue slipped into Jensen's mouth. He was good. Better than anyone Jared had kissed before, and nothing like kissing a woman. For starters, Jared didn't have to get a crick in his neck just to reach Jensen's lips. He wedged a knee between Jensen's thighs and nudged him up onto his toes and the difference in their height almost vanished.

He could get lost in kissing Jensen. It was the most cliché, romantic statement he's ever thought, but with every breathy whimper he drew from between Jensen's candy link lips, the further he fell. It was worse than being up on the wheel. He could see the ground beneath his feet melt away until they were hanging over nothingness, images of their entwined embrace reflected a hundred times around them.

"If I was your date," Jensen gasped when they broke apart, "what would you do now?"

Jared panted against his neck, unwilling to release Jensen from the circle of his arms. "I guess I'd buy you dinner." He said, trying to remember his last date.

"We had hotdogs," Jensen said, "You've fed me. What next?"

God, Jared knew what he wanted to do…"Depends. This a first date? Because if it is, then I'd respect you too much to do more than walk you home."

Jensen shook his head, fingers tight in Jared's sweater. "No. No, we've done this lots of times." He whispered, and for a moment Jared heard the longing in his voice.

He kissed the side of Jensen's neck, just above the curl of his collar. "Then I would take you home, lay you out on my bed, and kiss every inch of you."

The quiet moan that slipped past Jensen's lips went straight to Jared's dick. "Please," Jensen whispered, "take me home with you. Kiss me."

So Jared kissed him, slow and deep, and didn't stop until he heard the sound of footprints in the maze.

*****

Jared's hands skimmed across Jensen's ribs, his mind remembering where each touch made Jensen shudder and where it made him laugh. He'd fulfilled his promise and catalogued every taste as he kissed his way from Jensen's lips to his toes. Gentle fingers reached up to brush his cheek, and Jensen's eyes were dark and shining in the dim light of the room.

"Have you?" Jared asked hesitantly, his lube slick fingers pausing against the tight entrance to Jensen's ass.

Jensen nodded, reaching up to brush sweat damp hair from his eyes. "It's fine." He encouraged, spreading his thighs further until they fell either side of Jared's knees.

Pausing, Jared leaned forward, his lips pressed against the soft skin of Jensen's belly. "So beautiful." He whispered, and eased one gentle finger past the ring of muscle. He continued to kiss across the taunt skin under his lips as he slowly stretched Jensen open, each choked off moan burning desire hot in his belly.

For once, Jensen was utterly relaxed. His fingers curled loosely in the sheets as Jared carefully worked him open.

"Come 'ere." Jared slid an arm beneath Jensen's back and helped him rise to sit across Jared's thighs, admiring the way the muscles in the actor's lean belly tightened with the motion. "Better," he growled appreciatively, stealing a kiss from lips that were only inches away.

Steadying himself against Jared's shoulders, Jensen rose up on his knees and reached back to line Jared's dick up with his entrance. "God, you're perfect." He whispered, and then slowly sank down, inch by agonizing inch.

Either Jensen wasn't as practiced at this as he had appeared, or it had been too long since Jared had indulged in sex with another man. The gentle rhythm of the actor's hips was as perfect as it was maddening. He'd asked for this, Jared supposed, his hands reaching around to cover Jensen's ass. Palming each firm cheek, he spread them apart, his hips thrusting upwards in an attempt to go deeper, harder.

Jensen gasped low in his throat, the sound halfway between a chuckle and a moan, before his lips settled on the skin bellow Jared's ears, Jensen's fingers teasing Jared's nipples.

Jared liked having his throat kissed. It was one of his things, and Jensen's warm tongue and sinful lips set him up for a dive into insanity. That was before you added whatever it was he was doing with his thumbs.

With a growl, Jared lunged forward, pressing Jensen back into the bedding and thrusting his hips forward in one fluid move. Jensen whimpered and reached for his dick, but Jared caught his wrists and pressed them down. "Tease." He growled playfully, teeth biting down lightly on the fleshy part of Jensen's ear.

Jensen laughed and squirmed, his heels dragging up the back of Jared's calves before he locked his ankles behind Jared's back.

Setting up a pace of his own, Jared continued to languidly thrust his hips, until Jensen's back arched and his eyes rolled with pleasure.

"God," Jensen gasped, the sinews in his wrists straining against Jared's hold. "Please, I need-"

Jared kissed away his plea and smiled. "I got ya." He promised, releasing one of Jensen's wrists to wrap his hand around the hard cock that pressed against his stomach. Jensen didn't need much more. Several quick jerks of Jared's hand and he came, sinking boneless into the comforter.

Stroking damp strands of Jensen's tarnished golden hair from his forehead, Jared pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. Jensen's legs had slid limply from their locked embrace around Jared's back, and so Jared slid his hands under Jensen's knees to hold him open. Should he come in Jensen's ass, or was that rude? Maybe he should pull out, come on his thighs instead? Jensen reached up lazily, his fingers tangling in Jared's hair to pull him down for a deeper kiss than the one Jared had just bestowed, and the question became moot. He came with a grunt and only pulled out when they had both caught their breath.

Tangled up in sweaty limbs, Jared couldn't summon the energy to give them more than a cursory clean up before pulling Jensen's sleepy body close and dragging up the comforter. Tomorrow they could come back to the real world, but for now, Jared was happy where he was.

*****

"So this is you?" Jared whispered, his heart unexpectedly heavy as they stopped outside of a sprawling Malibu beach house. It was exactly as he had expected, with perfectly manicured front lawn and shining white woodwork. The house was huge, and huddled inside one of Jared's jackets, his eyes shadowed, Jensen looked small.

"You want to come in?" Jensen asked quietly. The question made something curl up and die in Jared's chest. How could he go in that perfect house, into Jensen's polished and shiny life, when there was three years worth of dirt on his shoes and a dozen holes in his jeans? If anything, Jensen's home had just brought back every difference between them. Jensen was adored by the world. Jared's own mother didn't speak to him.

"Nah." He shook his head and tried to sound as though he was happy with the sudden wall that had sprung up between them.

The front door to the house flung open all of a sudden, and a guy who made Jared feel small came charging out onto the law.

"Bodyguard." Jensen mouthed, stepping in front of Jared to spare him from the wrath of the man mountain. Jared snorted darkly. Obviously a good one.

Jensen ignored him and greeted the bodyguard. "Morning Edward."

"Mister Ackles," Edward looked close to crying tears of relief. "We've been so worried, sir. Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention? Should I call the studio?" Jensen held up his hand to stem the flow of questions as Jared's eyebrow rose.

"I'm fine. I just needed some space." Jensen said tiredly. To Jared's concern, the weariness that had begun to leave Jensen voice seemed back in full force. When Jensen turned to look at him, eyes so hopeful, and asked, "You sure you don't want to come in?" it hurt Jared more than he expected to say,

"I've got to get to work."

"And you are?" Edward asked, very polite bar for the subtle edge of steel in his voice. He really was enormous, and Jared resented the fact that he had to look up to meet his gaze.

Then of course he didn't know what to say.

Jensen saved him. "Jared is a friend." He said softly. "And he is to be treated as such."

Edward nodded amiably enough and wrapped an arm around Jensen's shoulders. "Yes sir. Let's get you inside now, mister Ackles. Manuela is still here. She can make you something warm, you look half starved." He began to steer Jensen towards the house, and though Jensen cast a longing look over his shoulder, Jared still had to get to work, still couldn't bring himself to step onto the perfect lawn of Jensen's perfect home.

Which didn't explain when it took him over an hour to make it back to the other end of the street.

"For Christsake, Jared," Connor McManus sighed for the fifth time that night, "Are ye gonna serve me customers or not?"

Jared looked up, startled, and the pint glass in his hands overflowed with beer. "Aw fuck, sorry man."

Connor rolled his eyes and shook his head, tossing a bar cloth over his shoulder. "Aye, I've heard that once or twice tonight. You gonna tell me what's going on in that head o' yours?"

"Jared's got himself a girlfriend." Sandy said coyly, accepting a ten dollar tip from a happy customer and stuffing it in the jar by the till. "I know that sappy, heartbroken look any day of the week."

Jared glared and pulled another pint.

"Aw, what's the matter, sugar?" Amy asked sweetly, her eyelashes fluttering, "She break your heart?"

"No." Jared grunted, thrusting the pint under his punter's nose and receiving no tip for his surely attitude.

"Cos, you know we'd happily break her legs for ya, darling." Amy laughed. "You being our favorite boy and all."

"I thought I was your favorite boy!" Connor held his hands to his chest in mock hurt.

"You're our favorite boss." Sandy corrected. Connor shrugged, apparently happy with the answer.

"What about Christian?" Connor then asked.

Sandy shrugged. "Favorite boyfriend. Seriously, Jay, what's up with you?"

"He's probably still freaking out about the money he owes Liam's boys." Connor chuckled. When Jared continued to stay silent, he stopped and looked up in concern. "That ain't it, is it? Jesus Jared, I thought you sorted that!"

In truth, Jared had forgotten all about Liam, all about the money. He'd been on his way to plead for more time when he'd stumbled across Jensen. After that, it had pretty much slipped his mind.

Talking of Jensen…

"Oh my gawd!" Besides him, Sandy squeaked. Jared looked up and his jaw dropped. There was Jensen, clean and shaved, well dressed and shuffling uncomfortably in one of the roughest pubs in downtown LA. "Is that?"

"What are you doing here?" Jared gaped. Sandy's jaw dropped besides him.

Jensen looked around before hesitantly meeting Jared's eye. "I need to talk to you. When do you get off?"

Jared looked at the clock. In about five hours. Fuck that.

"I'm taking my break." He barked in Connor's direction, then without waiting for an answer he dragged Jensen around to the bar hatch and down into the ale cellar.

Jensen followed, frowning. "You owe someone money?"

"Hmm," Jared nodded absently, trying to find a clean spot for Jensen to stand in.

"Can you pay it?"

"Not really, no." Jared laughed a little hysterically. His life really was beyond surreal.

"I could-"

"I don't want your handouts." Jared snapped angrily, instantly feeling guilty. Jensen didn't so much as flinch. He stepped closer and laid his fingers on Jared's cheek.

"Not a handout." He said coyly. "You did save my life. You're allowed to collect your reward." Their lips met, and something inside Jared snapped. He'd thought he'd never kiss Jensen again, lived with that knowledge for less than a day, and it had nearly driven him mad. Seizing hold of Jensen's arms, he pushed him back against the wall and clumsily began fumbling with the actor's belt.

"Tell me you brought something." He grunted desperately, teeth dragging across Jensen's throat. Jensen handed him a small tub of Vaseline from his jacket pocket and Jared almost cheered in delight. He'd not fuck Jensen dry, but sweet Christ Almighty, if he didn't get in that ass soon…

Jensen clawed just as desperately at Jared, his fingers under Jared's work shirt, blunt nails dragging raised lines of pain down his back. "Fuck," Jared groaned. He waited until Jensen had kicked off his pants before liberally slicking his cock with the clear balm and wiping the excess off on the apron that hung around his ankles.

With Jensen backed against the wall for support, Jared grunted and lifted the actor off his feet, his hands under Jensen's ass and Jensen's legs once more wrapped around his back.

They fucked hard and messily, and kissed even messier. Tongues and teeth clashed as Jared's cock pounded mercilessly at Jensen's ass. The muscles in his arms and back burned, the same why they had when Jared had pulled Jensen back over the bridge, and the parallels were not lost to him. It was brutal, desperate, and nothing close to the slow, gentle kisses they had traded the night before.

Jensen reached up to brace himself against the water pipe above his head, and Jared took the moment to transfer his hands to the wall, his own body weight keeping Jensen elevated. That both of them avoided a concussion was a miracle.

Jensen came, his voice lost somewhere between kisses. Unlike the last time, Jared followed him almost immediately.

"We need to talk." Jensen said softly, his words a whisper in Jared's ear.

Jared nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Can you wait, read the paper or something?"

"Sure." Jensen said, "Or I could help you out."

The idea of Jensen pulling pints behind a bar had Jared cracking a grin. "You serious?"

Rolling his eyes, Jensen said, "I've not been entirely cloistered. I can serve a mean cocktail." He ducked to climb back into his pants.

Jared snorted, tucking his shirt in. "Don't serve many of them here." But he nodded, more from the desire to keep Jensen close than any real need for anyone else behind the bar.

When they left the ale store, Sandy was still gapping, and when Jared asked Connor if he'd mind the extra help, she let out a little squeal.

"He ain't getting paid." Connor said gruffly, but he didn't say no, so Jared steered Jensen over to a pump and set him loose on the bewildered punters.

"Girl, you better close your mouth before the 10:02 train comes along. Might mistake you for a tunnel." Amy teased her roommate and bumped Jared with her hip as she passed, pint glasses stacked high over one shoulder. Sandy's jaw snapped shut and she glared. Jensen, admirably, pretended that she wasn't all but drooling over him. When Christian arrived, her boyfriend provided a suitable distraction as he set up the stage.

Within the hour, the solid country rock that was Kane had filled the bar to the brim, and after some careful diplomacy on Amy and Jared's part, both staff and customers quickly recovered from the shock of finding a Hollywood A Lister serving behind the bar.

Jensen, for his part, had started grinning within five minutes of tying the apron around his waist, and it hadn't dimmed for even a second. Jared caught himself looking over his shoulder, or in the mirror behind the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of the actor as he smiled and laughed at Sandy and Amy's lighthearted banter.

As soon as Jensen promised to give Sandy a studio tour, Jared made a mental note to warn Christian for excessive squeeing.

The rest of the shift passed faster than Jared had ever remembered it doing before. Even five separate demonstrations of his ability to tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue didn't bum him out. Which was probably more due to the look Jensen shot him whenever he did it. As soon as last orders were done, Jared threw down his towel and dragged Jensen out from behind the bar.

"You're dancing!" He yelled gleefully, his arm curled around Jensen's back. He could feel each laugh as Jensen's body shook with poorly suppressed giggles.

"Fuck no!" Jensen shouted back, tugging halfheartedly as Jared pulled him through the crowd of bodies to the dance floor.

As soon as their feet hit the hard wood, Jared crowed, "Too late. Now you have to dance. It's the law."

"How about I kiss you instead?" Jensen asked, his eyes glowing and his cheeks flushed.

Jared had half a second to compute before Jensen's lips were pressed firmly against his own, and he was outted spectacularly in front of every friend he had. When Jensen pulled back, he spluttered.

From the stage, Christian had stopped singing. "Boy," he said over the microphone. "That had betta not be your idea of a proper kiss." He scolded Jared.

Jensen laughed freely, not a trace of shadow in his eyes. "Fuck you Kane." Jared shouted back over the catcalling. He caught Jensen firmly around the waist and kissed him hard.

He was vaguely aware of Kane acknowledging his efforts before he forgot everything around them and gave over to Jensen's touch.

*****

"I can't believe you just did that!" Jared shouted loudly to the deserted street as he and Jensen stumbled arm in arm from the bar. The hour was well past the second witching hour, and they'd spent too long drinking their way through one of Connor's bottles of whiskey after closing up house. Jensen and Kane had struck up a drunken friendship over country music, and Sandy had spent nearly an hour babbling Jared's ear off. By the time they were ready to leave, Jensen had been unable to walk in a straight line without giggling, and Jared had been seeing double. "You know that is going to be all over the papers by tomorrow!"

Jensen threw his head back and laughed. "The fuck if I care!" He shouted gleefully as they stumbled through the door to Jared's apartment. When they fell, still dressed, onto the bed, Jensen wound his arms around Jared's neck. When he spoke, he looked sober and serious, and despite the copious amounts of whiskey in his system, Jared paid attention. "I'm done. I'm done with it all."

"You don't mean that." He whispered. He'd seen Jensen's movies. He was good, so good.

"I do. I really do." Jensen buried his face in the curve of Jared's neck. "I've felt more alive with you in the last two days than I have in the last twenty years." He froze then looked up and met Jared's eyes. "Let's go somewhere."

Jared laughed; he really was too drunk for such an important conversation. Hugging Jensen close he said, "where?"

"Anywhere!" Jensen said earnestly. "Back to Texas, hell, Mexico. Let's just go. You, me and a beach somewhere."

"Hmm," Jared grinned, half asleep, "I always wanted to see Hawaii."

"Hawaii it is." Jensen promised.

"Tomorrow." Jared yawned. Jensen kissed his throat and the last thing Jared heard before he drifted off to sleep was Jensen say,

"Tomorrow."

*****

Tomorrow came and went without either of them leaving the bed for more than ten minutes at a time.

When the next day came, Jensen emerged from the shower in Jared's dressing gown and snuck a kiss before sitting down at the table.

"I was thinking," Jared said, setting down a plate of pancakes and handing Jensen the syrup. "Are you serious? About leaving?"

"With you?" Jensen asked, syrup dispenser poised above his breakfast. "Very."

Jared nodded slowly and sat down with his own breakfast. "If I leave without paying Liam he'll think I'm skipping town." He frowned. "Which I would be."

"How much do you owe him?" Jensen asked around a mouthful of pancake.

"Twenty grand." Jared said flatly. He waited for the look of shock on Jensen's face and for him to demand to know what he had spent all that cash on. It never came. Jensen simply nodded slowly.

"Does he take check?"

The question was so innocent, Jared laughed around a mouthful of OJ. "I doubt it."

Jensen hmmed. "It's gonna take me a day or so to come up with that kind of cash."

"Jen." Jared started.

Jensen waved him off. "Hawaii?" he asked.

Jared grinned. "Hawaii."

"What about your friends?"

Jared snorted. "I'm sure they would enjoy having someone to visit." He paused. "What about you? You don't have any commitments?"

"Tones." Jensen said dryly. "They can go fuck themselves."

"It's not like you can just skip the country incognito." Jared pointed out. It was true; Jensen had one of the most recognizable faces in the world.

Jensen sighed. "Yeah." He pressed his hands to his forehead and sighed. "Fuck, yeah."

Jared sat back, his breakfast going cold. Somehow, he thought, this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.

*****

A day passed, then two.

Forty eight hours after he and Jensen decided to leave, Jared's debt was called. In return for his promise to repay in full, Jared got a scattering of cracked ribs and a broken nose along with his twelve hour extension.

When Jared hung up the payphone his hands were shaking. Liam's boys had done a number on him, and the bruises the stretched across his skin were nothing compared to the fear that had wrapped around his heart. "Fuck." He whispered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Pressing his thumbs to the corners of his eyes he took a deep, steadying breath. He'd arranged to meet Liam at the bridge at midnight. He'd arranged to meet Jensen at the same spot two hours earlier. Hopefully they'd be long gone by the time Liam showed up.

He looked at his watch. Nine hours. If he hadn't heard from Jensen in nine hours, they'd go ahead as planned.

Jogging back home, he planned to throw together the basics he needed before swinging by the bar. He couldn't tell anyone where he was going, but he could say goodbye. Jensen would send any messages via Connor. For once, Jared cursed not having his own phone.

He packed a couple of jackets and the only spare jeans he had, along with every t-shirt he owned, which was five. Toothbrush, toothpaste and razor, and he was set. Everything else could be sorted once they arrived.

Just as he was about to leave, there came a knock to his door, heavy and frantic. His heart jumped in his chest.

"Jensen?" He asked, throwing the door open without thought.

The face on the other side did not belong to his lover.

Liam's brother grinned back nastily. "Just a little memo." He said saccharinely. "So you don't forget to attend your financial discussion tonight."

Too late, Jared tried to slam the door closed, but the baseball bat that caught his fingers broke his hold, and the second blow hit him hard across the chin. He hit the ground with a boneless thud and didn't see the third blow.

*****

"Jared!" Jared grunted when frantic hands shook him from the safety of unconsciousness. "Damnit fuckhead, wake up." The dulcet tones of Christian Kane brought the return to consciousness into a not so subtle jolt and with a groan, Jared stirred.

"Fuck me." He hissed, pressing his hand to his head.

Christian was crouched besides him. "What happened?" He demanded. "You didn't show up at work. Connor was worried, and for good fucking reason."

Jared tried to grasp hold of a thought and focus. The first that came to mind was Jensen.

"Fuck!" He looked down at his watch. 10:16. Pm. "No, no, no." Snatching his bag, he threw himself onto shaky legs and stumbled for the door, Christian on his tail.

"Goddamnit, what the hell is going on?" The singer demanded, throwing an arm around Jared's shoulders when he stumbled for the fifth time.

"I'll explain when we get there." Jared grunted, hobbling as fast as he could. It took ten minutes to reach the bridge, and when they got there, there was no Jensen in sight. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He screamed.

"Talking of fuck," Christian snarled, "would you fucking tell me what is fucking happening?"

"He must have thought I skipped out on him." Jared muttered to himself, ignoring Kane. Jesus, what would Jensen be thinking? "We need to get to Malibu."

Christian snorted. "Right. That makes sense."

"I'll explain on the way." Jared swore. He continued to hobble down the street until he found a car that looked like it could handle the drive. Breaking the driver's window with a rock, he paid no attention to Christian's angry demands for an explanation. When he tried to slide into the seat the broken ribs he had amassed screamed and he fell back panting. "Can you hotwire a car?" He asked Christian.

Kane was silent for a good minute, his eyes sharp and searching as he tried to fathom the thinking behind Jared's insanity. Finally he sighed. "Get in and explain."

So Jared did. For the entire forty minute drive, he talked. About everything. From Liam and Jensen, to Jared's stupid dream that they could actually get away from everything. Christian listened without saying a word, and when Jared finally fell silent he simply shook his head.

"And I thought Sandy and I were fucked up." He laughed.

*****

The lights were on in Jensen's house, so Jared tried sneaking around the back. Like any good friend, Christian was the one to climb through an open basement window and sneak inside to let Jared in the back door. Both were wary of the man mountain that was Edward, but there was no sign of any life at all in the house.

With his heart in his mouth, Jared searched every room until he found what could only be the master bedroom.

Jensen lay across the bed, his limbs loose and sprawled like they had been on Jared's bed only days ago. His hair curled gently over his eyes, clean of styling products and shining like tarnished gold. The lips Jared's had kissed were full and pouty still, but tinged blue, and his eyes were as beautiful as the lifeless emeralds embedded in the cufflinks that lay on the vanity.

"No." Jared shook his head as his eyes followed Jensen's arm where it lolled off the bed, down to the wrist that still bore bruises from his touch, to the fingers that brushed the empty needle abandoned on the floor. "No. No. No. No." The word spilled out, repeated in a mantra as he moved across the room, shrugging free from Christian's grip and stumbling towards the bed. "No, Jen. Come on baby, please." Jared hauled Jensen up into the cradle of his arms, sobbing as Jensen's head rolled limply back to rest against his shoulder. There was still a faint brush of warmth to his skin, no stiffness to his limbs. He'd not been gone long.

"Jared." He didn't want to hear Christian say his name. He wanted Jensen. He wanted to hear Jensen whisper it to him when he woke up at night, afraid of the monsters in his mind. He wanted to hear Jensen moan it when he came, a sweet word gasped into his ear. "Jared." Christian whispered again.

"Shut up!" He screamed, burying the words into Jensen's pale throat. He waited for the soothing rush of heat against his cheek and the steady rhythm of Jensen's heartbeat that never came.

Christian ducked, retrieved the empty syringe and held it up between his fingers. His eyes were kind, full of pity, and Jared screamed again.

"I am so, so sorry." Christian whispered, the tears in his eyes for Jared's loss, and not the actor, the pin up he'd known for less than a day.

Jensen's skin was still so warm, still soft and smooth beneath Jared's fingers. His heart shuddered against his broken ribs and he clutched Jensen to his chest, mindless of the pain it caused him. He tried to loop Jensen's arm around his neck, and whimpered when it fell lax to rest at Jensen's side.

"Damnit, Jay," Christian hissed. "We need to go. We'll call the cops, but Christ, they can't find us here; we'd be skinned alive."

Jared shook his head and held on tighter. "Not leaving him. I won't, I wo-" Christian's fist came out of nowhere and landed hard on the bruise decorating Jared's jaw. He fell back across the bed, Jensen slipping from his arms. Before he could recover, Christian had his arms under Jared's and was hauling him out of the room. Dazed and heartbroken, Jared stumbled blindly under his lead.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

"Jensen." Jared moaned, reaching out to grasp at thin air.

Christian was huffing with the effort it took to drag Jared's considerably heavier frame from the house. With one final grunt and a violent tug, he pulled Jared out of the doorway and into the balmy night air.

Like a puppet cut loose from his strings, Jared sagged to the ground, his knees hitting the perfect grass in Jensen's perfect yard, mud still dry on his boots.

"Okay, fuck. We need to call someone. Shit. Shit. Fuck. I'm gonna try the payphone at the end of the street."

Too late. Already there were sirens drawing closer. Chris started to cruse without restraint, once again trying to drag Jared away from the crime scene. Away from Jensen.

Broken, Jared followed, his gaze cast over his shoulder with every unsteady step he took.

________________________________________

San Antonio, Texas 2007

Christian broke off his tale with a weary sigh. "I've never seen a man as broken as Jared was that night. He just…stopped." He shook his head, guilt heavy in his eyes. "I should never have left him alone."

"You didn't know what he would do." James tried to offer some semblance of comfort to the old man. His knuckles were white around the china teacup, his fingers trembling lightly.

Christian laughed darkly. "Didn't I?" he asked. "A man loses the person he loves most in the world and is left behind with nothing to live for but a job in a rundown bar and a mafia debt over his head. I was stupid to think he'd do anything else."

"So what happened?"

"He begged me for some space. I couldn't refuse him anything." Christian said sadly. "I don't know who called the cops. Maybe someone saw us break in, I don't know, but I wasn't about to hang around and find out. Two scum like me and Jay, and a dead movie star- they wouldn't have tried all that hard to look for a motive. We split. I went back to the bar the next day, of course that's when I found the message-" Christian broke off, troubled, his mind in a place that had died a long time ago.

James inched forward. "Message, what message?"

Kane shuffled in his seat. "Jensen had left a message behind the bar. I guess he figured Jared would have been in to see everyone before they left." Christian shook his head. "Sad thing is, if Liam's goons hadn't cornered him, I think Jared would have swung by. He'd have gotten Jensen's message, and it might never have ended that way."

Swallowing, his mouth dry, James asked, "What did it say? The message."

Christian shrugged. "Dunno. Never was able to bring myself to read it."

"Do you still have it?" James asked, not daring to hope. Christian shook his head.

"Sorry. I buried it with Jared."

James nodded, understanding, but still bitterly disappointed. "How did you find out that he had killed himself?"

"Wasn't until the next day." Christian replied. "Liam's boys came into the bar looking for a fight. Said their boss had gone AWOL after supposedly going to a meeting with Jared. We didn't want to get the cops involved, so a couple of us went looking. It was three days before we found him." Christian's face was pale and sad, as if he were remembering those days as clear as if they were yesterday. " Face down on the abandoned tracks. They'd not repaired the broken barrier, and he'd just jumped. We could barely recognize him."

"I'm sorry." James muttered. He was, he really was. Not just for his own lost opportunities, but for Christian's loss of a friend, for the tragic cutting short of two lives. "They ever find Liam?"

Christian shook his head. "Wouldn't surprise me if he ended up in the river. He wasn't a popular guy in those parts. Jared wasn't the only one who owed him money." James nodded, feeling little pity for the man in the wake of the tragedy he had just heard told. For forty years, Jensen's apparent overdoes had been seen as one of the great Hollywood tragedies. James wondered how much that would have changed in the wake of the real human loss behind the story.

"I tried to go to Jensen's funeral." Christian said. "A few of us did, but the service was small, only ten or so attendees. The crowds outside were significantly larger, or course. That big ass bodyguard of his was there, and a few executives from Jensen's studio. S'funny. Sandy never did stop playing on that conspiracy theory of hers. Said that the bigwigs found out about Jensen's plans to skip town with his gay lover and killed him before it could leak to the press." Kane's gaze was shrewd. "The story from the bar never showed up in any of the papers, and I know there were more than a few guys present who wouldn't have turned down the chance to earn a dollar or two. I guess a dead actor is easier to spin than a fag."

"Is that what you think?" James pushed.

Christian shook his head, sighing. "Doesn't matter what I think," he said sadly. "Conspiracy or not, Jensen wound up dead, and it pushed Jared over the edge. Hell, for all I know it might have been Jay who killed Liam before taking a swan dive. One last fuck you to the world."

James nodded. "Thank you. I, I appreciate your time. I'm sorry for your loss."

Christian chuckled, but he didn't rise when James did. "It's been forty years." He pointed out.

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Well I appreciate that." Christian said gratefully. "Jenny?" he called, and his granddaughter appeared quickly enough to convince James that he had not been the only who had listened to the tale Christian had told with nothing short of rapt attention. "You show mister Marsters out now, there's a good girl."

James cross the room to shake Kane's hand. "Thank you again."

Christian shook off the thanks and turned his attention to the radio.

Following Jenny through the hallway of Kane's home, he couldn't help but look at all the photographs on the wall. Sure enough, there in the far corner, was a faded color picture of two handsome men locked in a passionate kiss. He recognized Jensen from a thousand pictures. They looked good together.

"Did you get what you came for?" Jenny asked him as she held open the door.

James nodded his head. "More." He replied softly. "Much more."

****** Nine Months Later*****

James' wife popped her head around the door to his study and cleared her throat until James looked up from his computer monitor. "You have a call. Someone named Jenny Jane?"

James frowned, trying to tie the name with an acquaintance when a spark of recognition made him frown "Kane? Jenny Kane?"

His wife shrugged. Loving mother and star partner aside, she was not the world's greatest secretary. "Could be."

James snatched up the phone. "James Marsters." He said professionally, in case she was mistaken.

"Mister Marsters?" he recognized the Texan twang instantly. "We met earlier this year when you came to visit my grandfather."

"Yes, yes, I remember. How is he?"

Jenny cleared her throat quietly. "He passed away last month."

"Oh, God. I am so sorry." James winced, unsure as to how best continue the conversation. "My condolences to you and your family."

"Thank you." She said softly. "Look, I won't waste your time. Do you have a fax machine?"

Nonplussed, James admitted that yes, he did, rattling off the number when she asked for it. "I'm sorry, but what is this in regards to?"

"Before he died, my grandfather asked that I find a way of getting in touch with you, and that I tell you that he lied."

"I'm sorry?"

"That is all he said." She apologized. "But he asked that I tell you, and that I send you something. I'm faxing a copy through now. The original is a little delicate."

"Well, thank you." He said, stunned.

"You are welcome." She hung up before he could close the conversation. A minute later, his fax whirled into action and printed out a single sheet.

Aside from the sender details, the only information on the page was a faded photocopy of a scrawled handwritten note.

23a Calii Drive. Orana. Hawaii.
Meet me there.

James sat back in his chair, a slow smile creeping across his face. Carefully he folded the paper in half and rose. He still had a draw of his filling cabinet full of all the information he had intended to put into his book documenting the Life and Death of Jensen Ackles. The story was abandoned, but he could not bring himself to close the lid on his own curiosity. Now, with the last piece sliding in to place, he felt that for the first time it would not hurt anyone if the truth was never brought to light.

Just the opposite in fact.

________________________________________

Los Angeles 1966

Jensen picked up the phone on the second ring, an armful of clothes stuffed between his side and his elbow. "Hello?" He answered.

-it's me-

Jensen's heart sped up at the sound of Jared's voice. It was impossible not to remember how it had sounded whispering such hot, dirty enticements in Jensen's ear as Jared fucked him, or of the way Jared's lips curled around his name when he came.

"What's wrong?" he asked, abandoning the clothing and perching on the arm of his couch.

Jared laughed down the line, his voice static and hysterical. -Liam came to see me-

Jensen knew enough about the world to know how loan sharks worked. He hadn't asked what Jared had needed the money for, he hadn't wanted to know. God, he was being so stupid, throwing his whole life away for a man he had known for less than a week.

But Jared made him feel warm inside. He thawed a part of Jensen that had been frozen for years. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" It was hard to think of Jared being hurt. Like Edward, he projected an aura of impossible strength.

-I'm okay. Jen, he…we need to go tonight.-

Jensen's hands grew clammy. "I can't get you the money that quickly, Jared."

-Fuck the money. We have to go tonight.-

"I-I can't!" Jensen stammered. "I have things that need finalizing, people to take care of. I can't just vanish in the middle of the night!"

-I told Liam I'd meet him at the bridge at midnight. That I'd have the money. He knows about you, Jen. He knows about you and he'll use it.-

Jensen laughed. "What's the worst he can do? Out me to the press. Been there, done that."

-He can hurt you- Jared snapped. -You don't know these people Jensen. If they see a chance to make money then they will take it, and they don't care who they hurt in the process. Please, we have to leave tonight.-

Jensen swallowed around the lump in his throat. "What were you going to do? Before you met me? How were you going to pay him?"

Jared was silent for a long time. -I was going to offer my services.- he said bitterly. -Looks like you saved my life that night, too.-

Closing his eyes against the picture that formed in his mind, Jensen desperately tried to find an answer. "The police-"

-Are not an option.-

"Jesus, Jared."

-I know. I'm sorry. I didn't expect anyone else to be having to deal with this.-

The sadness and the guilt in Jared's voice nearly broke him. "Okay, here is what you are going to do. Pack a bag. Basics, keep it light. I'll get word to you somehow. It will be fine, I promise."

-If I don't hear from you, I'll be waiting at the bridge at ten.-

Jensen nodded to himself, a plan already forming in his head. "Okay. And Jay, just be safe, alright?"

-You too.-

Jensen hung up the phone carefully and sank down into the couch with tears already burning his eyes. Everything was getting out of hand too quickly.

"Sir?" Edward moved silently, for all that he was large, and he wrapped an arm around Jensen's shoulders as he battled against the tears.

Jensen coughed, his throat tight. "I need your help." He whispered.

*****

Several hours later, his affairs hastily arranged into some form of order, Jensen sat on the bed and steadied his nerves. Carefully he slipped the robe from his shoulders. The heating was on, and it wasn't cold.

Edward's hulking shadow appeared in the doorway, his face lined with sorrow and worry. "Sir, please, I'm begging you to reconsider, it's not safe, it's not-"

"Did you get the message to the bar?" Jensen cut him off tiredly.

Edward nodded. "Yes sir."

"And what about-"

Edward stepped forward and handed him a slender syringe of clear liquid. "I had the doctor measure it out for your bodyweight." The burly bodyguard said quietly. "He said there shouldn't be any side effects."

"Good," Jensen nodded. "Good. You don't have to stay." He said quietly. Of all the people in his life, he'd known Edward longer than most, and cared more for him than any save Jared.

Edward shook his head. "Yes, sir. I do."

Jensen nodded and smiled. "Make it look good." He chuckled. "Give them an exit to remember."

Edward said nothing. He hovered close by as Jensen wrapped the tie of his robe tightly around the swell of his arm and carefully flicked the thin skin at his elbow until a vein throbbed thick and heavy with blood. The needle was good quality, and sharp. Sliding it past the skin barely hurt at all and the drug seeped lethargically into his bloodstream. It filled him slowly, like a warm blanket being rolled up his body until he was as warm and comfortable as he was in Jared's arms. When the needle slipped from his fingers, Edward was there to catch him and ease him back against the bed.

A large hand settled in his hair and stroked softly. Jensen smiled, seeing Jared through the slit of his blurry vision, his heart aglow with happiness even as it slowly lost the rhythm of its tempo. The last thing he felt was the soft brush of lips against his forehead before world faded away before his eyes.

*****

Waking up was nothing like dying. It was cold and painful. No wonder babies scream, Jensen thought wearily as pins and needles pricked at every inch of his skin and the feeling slowly came back to his limbs. He couldn't open his eyes, not yet, but he felt the strange sensation of being lifted, and of hovering in the air before he was settled down onto the softest mattress he could remember.

"Sir? Sir!" That was Edward, Jensen knew. The urgency in his bodyguard's voice drew some response from his sleep addled brain.

"Hmm." He mumbled, cracking open an eyelid and wincing at the sudden influx of light. "Fuck."

"Sir, it's Edward. Sir, you must wake up."

"Jared?" Even heavily drugged as he was, Jensen knew he wanted Jared more than anything else at that moment. No response came, and Jensen drifted back into unconsciousness.

When he woke the second time, the cotton wool had been pulled back, and he was able to sit in bed and look around. Edward pressed a glass of cool water to his lips and helped him drink. "Did it work?" he muttered, once he was able to swallow enough to form actual words.

Edward smiled and nodded. "Yes sir." He reported. "I called the police shortly after you were dosed and bribed the coroner. The funeral is scheduled for the end of the week. They'll be burying an empty coffin in your family crypt."

Jensen nodded and sank back into the soft cushions. He realized he was in a motel room, one of many innocuous venues about the city. Already exhaustion was creeping at him and he fought to keep his eyes open.

"Sir…" Edward said hesitantly, "there is something…" he closed his eyes. "Mister Padalecki came to the house." He whispered.

And just like that, Jensen's heart stopped beating once again. His throat was too dry, his hands already beginning to shake."What?" he choked. "He got the message, you left the message?!"

"Yes sir!" Edward said desperately, "but he must not have received it. I was waiting at the end of the street for the police, for the press, and I saw some man drag him from the house."

Jensen threw back the covers and tried to rise from the bed. "Where is he?" he asked shrilly. " Where is he?!" His knees buckled as soon as his feet hit the floor. Edward caught him and eased him back down, easily overpowering Jensen's weak resistance.

Oh god, Jared had seen, he had thought- no, no, no! That wasn't how it was supposed to happen!. It was supposed to be perfect! They were supposed to be free!

Tears burned at his eyes and flowed freely as he curled up miserably on his side and shook. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Sir-"

"Leave me alone." Jensen whispered. He curled his hands into the sheets and let the drugs and his own misery pull him into oblivion.

*****

As soon s the drugs wore off, Jensen was on his feet and out of the motel. Twenty four hours had passed since he had faked his own death, and it was easier than he expected to get by with only a little modification.

He died his hair dark brown and cut it military short. Adding a pair of wire frame glasses to the look and dressing in a heavy woolen sweater that added inches to his bulk changed his appearance dramatically. Edward alternated between being the PR front to the tragic death of Jensen Ackles, and searching the streets for Jared.

Jensen had tried Jared's apartment first, his heart catching in his chest when he found the place in ruins. Someone had taken great pleasure in destroying everything in his lover's life, and anger burned bright and heavy in Jensen's gut.

He found the bar closed, not a sign of Jared in place. Then the next day, he made the mistake of reading the obituaries of a local paper.

*****

It was too late to go back to his old life. Jensen Ackles was already dead.

The number of times he sat looking at his reflection in the mirror grew more and more, until each time it became harder not to smash his way through the lying glass and end his whole miserable existence.

Every time he grew that close, every time his fingers brushed metal or glass, he remembered the way Jared had felt laying above him on the cold road, panting with the exertion spent saving Jensen's life.

And he couldn't go through with it.

It was Edward, once again, who stepped in and saved him. "You should go." He said, a week later, when Jensen had done nothing more than sleep and cry for days on end. "To Hawaii. Live the dream you both had. You can't stay here."

And for all that it felt like a sin to go when Jared would not, Jensen had no choice but to follow his advice.

*****

He went by boat, having put in place the contacts that would be able to sneak him out of the country shortly before his supposed death. He paid them well for their silence, and found the crossing to be blissfully free from complication.

Still, he felt like a ghost. The literal walking dead. He had no life now. No past, no name, and no Jared. He'd given it all up, and everything had gone wrong.

It was night by the time he wandered up the path of the modest beach hut Edward had purchased under Jared's name, his feet heavy and his heart weary. Pushing open the door, he stepped into his new life and was accosted by a stranger in the dark.

Just his luck, he thought bitterly, not having the energy or the inclination to fight. He hung limply in restraining arms, until slowly, the words being whispered in his ear seeped past the roadblocks of depression and his heart gave a sudden, shuddering start.

"Jared?" He whispered, hardly daring to look up. Large hands settled on his face, tipping him up to be blinded by the brightest grin he had ever seen.

"You stupid, brilliant, idiot!" Jared shouted in his ear, once again engulfing Jensen in the safety of his long arms. "I could kill you, you son of a bitch."

Jensen's jaw dropped. He stood, stunned as Jared ran hands over his arms and chest, reassuring himself that Jensen was whole and alive. A low, hysterical chuckle bubbled in Jensen's throat, until it gave way in a broken dam of hot tears.

"Shush," Jared whispered, holding him close. "I've got you. It's okay."

*****

They sat out on the starlit beach, wrapped up in a blanket and each other's arms. Jared had Jensen's head tucked under his chin, and Jensen had never felt safer than he did right then. "I thought you were dead." He whispered. "I read your obituary and I thought you were dead. All my fault." He could feel the tears rising to the surface and marveled at the fact that since meeting Jared, he had cried more than he had done ever before.

Jared's arms squeezed him tight. "Ditto." He said softly. "God, when I saw you, you were so still, so-" he broke off with a pained moan.

Tensing with guilt, Jensen raised Jared's hand to his lips and kissed his palm tenderly. "You weren't supposed to see that." He admitted. "I am so sorry."

He felt Jared swallow then chuckle. "I think we can say we are even on the scaring the fuck out of one another front. What I want to know is what took you so long to get here? I've been going out of my mind."

Jensen shook his head. "When Edward said you were at the house we both assumed you'd not read my message, and that you didn't know the plan."

"I didn't at the time." Jared admitted. "After Chris and I split, I figured it would be a good idea to go drown myself in whiskey. I had a set of keys to the bar, so I let myself in and found the message you left. A led to B, and I realized what you had done. Of course, once I had gotten over the genius of it, I wanted to kill you for making me think you were dead." He chuckled at the irony of the situation.

Jensen smiled, glad that Jared's grief had been dealt with so quickly. After living with his own for so long, he would have given anything to spare his lover that pain. "What about the body they found? I read your obit." He repeated.

Jared stiffened then sighed. He held Jensen tighter, as if he were afraid he might pull away. "Liam." He said, confirming Jensen's theory. "As soon as I read your message I high tailed on out of there, left the damn note on the bar where I found it I was so quick to leave," he chuckled. "Of course in my giddy stupidity, I walked right past the bridge on my way home. Liam was there waiting for me. Let it never be said that I am the smart one of the duo. I was just so fucking relieved."

Jensen tensed.

"Liam threatened me, I told him to fuck off. I was for too happy to be put off by bullying little shits like him. Then he threatened you." Again. Jared tensed. "It was an accident. Well, no, I didn't accidentally hit him, but I forgot the barrier was broken and I didn't catch him like I caught you."

Jensen kissed his palm once more and pressed Jared's hand to his cheek. "He fell."

Jared nodded. "I climbed down to see if he was still alive. He wasn't. I switched our watches took his shoes. Left my own shoes and jacket up on the bridge."

"You let everyone think it was you." Jensen whispered.

"Yeah." Jared agreed. "Chris thought I had killed myself because of you." He kissed Jensen's neck when Jensen tensed in pain. "Everyone else thought I killed myself because I couldn't pay Liam."

"Genius."

"Indeed." Jared paused. "I don't feel sorry. For hitting Liam, I mean. Or for what we did."

"We should." Jensen said softly.

Jared nodded. "I know we should. But I don't."

Curling closer, Jensen laid his head over Jared's heart and comforted himself with listening to the steady thrum. "What now?" He asked. "What do we do now?"

"Well," Jared said, slipping his hand under the hem of Jensen's shirt, "Now I plan on dragging you inside to test our new bed. As for tomorrow, I figured we could learn how to surf."

"Too comfortable to move." Jensen muttered, content to spend the night on the sand so long as he was in Jared's embrace.

In way of an answer, Jared shifted beneath him and before Jensen realized his intention, he was lifted clear off the ground. "Hey!" he yelped.

Jared grinned that adorable little boy grin that set Jensen's heart into triple time. "I'm allowed to carry you over the threshold." He said calmly. "So be good and stop squirming or I'll throw you in the sea."

Jensen smiled back. One day he would call Jared on that threat, but right then, he was all for testing out their new bed. Then maybe the shower.

Tomorrow they could try the couch.

There was no rush.