The wedding was huge, a splashy affair with forty tons of pink roses and a cake a family of four could vacation in. Chris would have been utterly horrified - particularly at the pale pink bow tie he was forced to wear with his tux - but instead he sniffled through the ceremony and danced with every bridesmaid - twice.
There's photographic evidence of just about everything (except the drunken grope in an empty storage closet with his freakishly tall fellow groomsman) but Chris doesn't mind. It was Jensen getting married and one of the main tenants of being a good best friend is standing up for a fellow when he gets married.
It's especially fulfilling when you actually like the girl.
***
Brig gets it, gets them. She doesn't bat an eyelash during the camping weekends or the get-togethers in which they discuss things she has no interest in or no memories of. Sometimes she listens and laughs, sometimes she brings a bag of knitting and pretends they're not there. She threatens to teach Jared how to knit. Jared recoils - then ends up on the couch with her at some point, attempting to bind wool into something resembling...something.
Chris mocks growls, she refers to him as "Limbo Hips" and Jensen appears delighted.
It's all good.
***
"What the hell is that?" Chris asks as Jared shows off his handy-work. They're up at Jen and Brig's new cabin, christening the place with barbecue and tequila on the small back patio.
"A...a...a knit thing."
"Looks like a noose."
Brig comes out of the house carrying a carafe of coffee and Chris watches as Jensen shoots out of his chair like she's juggling nuclear bombs.
"Hey, lemme get that okay? Sit down."
"Oh for the love of Christ." Brig hands over the pot and plops down in a wicker rocking chair. "How's the knitting coming Jare?"
"He made a NOOSE," Chris points out.
Brig takes the piece into her hands and inspects it with kindness and lying eyes. "It's very nice. I think it'll make a good baby scarf..." She shoots Jensen a look and Jensen turns forty eight shades of red and goofy and Jared lets out a wild whoop before Chris can even process the subtleties of the moment.
Then there's a lot of hugging.
***
"You still okay about...the way shit turned out?" Chris asks quietly that night in bed, Jared fairly vibrating with happiness and sugar next to him.
He isn't surprised by the solid punch to his shoulder but he is pleased.
"In case you haven't noticed jackass, my life is pretty fuckin' spectacular. Now shut up and kiss me."
***
In fact things are pretty spectacular and Chris finds it hard to bitch about anything - though God knows he tries. He finds blissful happiness to be daunting in its pleasantness. You go to sleep with a smile and you wake up glad to face the day. That's some scary shit right there, especially for someone internally wired to be waiting for that half-empty glass to fall over and spill on his shoes.
So when the European tour comes up just as Jared is flying back to Vancouver for the start of the season, Chris goes with "this is a good thing - we're both busy at the same time". About three weeks into this brilliant arrangement, misery soaks him like a hurricane, blowing him from corners of bars to other corners of bars as he sings until his voice bursts.
On stage he's alive and electric, off he's a big waste of fuckin' space. He's miserable with homesickness which isn't anything he's ever felt before. Ever. Because you have to have a home your heart needs before you get all "this isn't the way the sheets are supposed to smell" in a perfectly nice hotel in the middle of Frankfurt.
Steve threatens to kill him, plies him with liquor and makes sure that ALL of Jared's messages get through but Chris remains in a funk until they fly home for Thanksgiving.
And the blizzard. The one that strands Jared in Vancouver. The one that leaves Chris at Brig and Jensen's, the ultimate third wheel as five other couples sit around the nicely made table eating turkey and cranberry souffle and discussing property tax in California.
Jensen drags him into the family room with a case of beer and hides him from the world.
"Wife's gonna be pissed," he mumbles at some point, slurry even to his own miserably drunk ears.
"She's the one who sent us in here," Jensen replies, handing over another bottle.
"I like your wife Jenny."
"Me too."
***
Jared never makes it home for Thanksgiving. He has to be back on set Monday morning so there are some long distance phone calls filled with regret and irritation. They're both on edge and every time they try to get into a rhythm of talking, it's rough and confusing. It doesn't feel right. They both want to be home and they aren't and they aren't going to be home for at least a month. Then the holidays and family obligations and suddenly Chris is pissed at CHRISTMAS and humanity in general.
Chris flies back to pick up the European tour with a burr in his saddle the size of Montana.
***
Jensen hates it when Jared and Chris fight. It makes him cranky and that's the very last thing he's allowed to be these days as Brig labors under the weight of their child and her own issues with the world at the moment. Mostly the fear that this baby is never ever coming out.
He calls Chris in the middle of the night, when he's sure to find him awake, a verbal poke at the turtle in the shell.
"Call him."
"Fuck off."
"Call him and say you're sorry you blamed him for a blizzard."
Chris grumbles, calls him names. Doubts his parentage.
"It's gotta go bad at some point, might as well happen now."
"What??" Jensen actually pulls the phone from the ear and looks at it and is grateful Brig is snoring in the next room.
"Things don't last forever."
"Stop talking in country western lyrics."
"The sheriff shot my dog."
"Chris, I swear to God, I will put Brig on the phone and tell her what you said..."
"You're threatening me with a pregnant woman?!"
"Yes."
The silence tells Jensen he's won this round.
***
Talking to Jared is much easier in that Jensen does all the talking while Jared stares morosely at the television as he attempts to get Lara Croft to stop falling off the mountain though Jensen suspects he's doing it on purpose.
Jensen talks until his throat hurts and then he throws his hands up in defeat. He grabs a controller, marches over to the XBox and changes games.
"I'm gonna rip your head off until you break son," he says, elbowing his friend in the side.
They go a few rounds, exchanging insults until Jensen feels Jared relax next to him.
***
"Hi, it's me."
"Oh...hey. Listen..."
"Brig's in labor, get on a plane."
"Holy shit, tell her to hold it in til I get there!"
It's their longest conversation in two weeks.
***
Making up in a public waiting room isn't the easiest thing to do. Chris is jet-lagged and hang-dog and various other hyphenated things. He sits next to Jared, their thighs pressing together, listening to Mrs. Hanley telling stories about Brig as a baby. There's a lot of nodding and smiling and Chris catches Jared out of the corner of his eye. He looks tired and young and Chris really just wants to give him a kiss and remind him he knew Chris was an asshole when they met. In fact, Jared was sure of this fact.
Jensen runs into the room occasionally, giving updates involving centimeters. Mrs. Hanley cries and Mr. Hanley clears his throat a lot. Chris refrains from calling Jensen anything rude in front of him but he does manage to give him the finger.
"Gettin' some coffee," Jared says finally. "Anyone need anything?" The Hanleys want some coffee; Chris does not require a 2 x 4 to get him out of his seat, offering to help Jared carry "everything". Like he couldn't do it with one hand.
***
They wait to kiss until the elevator is empty, Jared leaning against the cold metal wall and Chris crowding his space with apologetic tongue. He holds Jared's face in both hands and gives him his best spit-slicked "I'm sorry baby" which Jared accepts with open mouth and a jerk of his hips.
By the time the door dings open, it's okay.
***
Jillian Hanley Ackles is born at 4am, four days before Christmas. Jensen staggers into the waiting room with unapologetic tears and the biggest smile on his face, making motions with his hands as if to visually explain the miracle of his new daughter. He seems in awe as he makes the announcement, like the idea of him and Brigid having a baby just dawned on him.
He's a father.
Jared doesn't have any restrictions on his public displays of affection. He hugs Jensen tightly and cries a little with him. They pull apart, exchange punches in the shoulder and laugh as they wipe their eyes.
Chris and Mr. Hanley clear their throats.
***
It's at least an hour before they can see Brig but Jensen shows them Jillian through the Plexiglas display of babies. Clearly the placid and red cheeked baby in the middle is Jillian, perfect and adored by the people crowding around to watch every rise and fall of her chest.
Chris buys out the gift shop, flowers and stuffed animals in big bags, garbage bags because they didn't have enough small ones. Jared comes in from outside where he's placed the appropriate calls - he blinks in surprise when he sees Chris waiting for him.
"Anything left?"
"Naw, anyone else has a baby girl here today is shit outta luck."
***
Christmas Eve finds them driving North. They pick up the dogs at the kennel and head home, apologies to friends and family but they're seriously exhausted and sincerely in need of some quiet alone time. There's snow on the distant mountains, the air crisp as the men get out of the truck. Dusk, the perfect time to stop for a moment, forget about the bags and just stand there, breathing in the peace.
Jared sits on the front stairs, watching the dogs run free and wild with joyful abandon. Chris sits next to him, leaning against the broad shoulder. Apologies with words seem silly at this point - they're here, another bump in the road that rattles but doesn't shatter anything important. It'll happen again and again because when you're with someone forever...well, that's just a lot of road to cover and expect smoothness.
"Merry Christmas baby," Chris murmurs, rousing Jared from his meditative trance.
His boyfriend turns and smiles, an enigmatic look on his face. "You're crazy," he says softly. "How could I not love this life?" Then he stands, whistling for the dogs.
Chris follows last, behind Jared and the clattering of the dogs. The glass is filling up - maybe if he's lucky one day he'll see it as full.
Read the second Coda Timmy Has Two Daddys: Coda 2
