Your Strength

Jensen felt good. And he was glad. It had seemed to him, for a while at least, that ever feeling good again was being too optimistic. He would have settled for not bad. He often reflected that it was sort of pathetic that, after literally years had passed, he had still been so affected by Charlie. After he’d graduated college, right after the last fight with Charlie, Jensen had sought out therapy, without telling a soul. He hadn’t told anyone not because he was ashamed, but because he hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone that he felt worse than ever. Like the entire world was a huge black hole that just tore at him until eventually there was nothing to tear at anymore. And that scared him—enough that he went to talk to a therapist. He only went once. In the one session, he had told, very briefly, what had happened between Charlie and him.

“Do you blame yourself?” was the first thing the nice elderly man had asked him, from across a coffee table in an extremely warm and well lit room.

“Yes,” he had replied honestly, and the elderly man nodded. At first, Jensen had thought he was agreeing with Jensen, thought the doctor was stating that everything was, in fact, Jensen’s fault.

“This is common in many victims of abuse,” the doctor informed him, which Jensen knew. Many of the nurses at the hospital had tried to gently help him handle being a ‘victim of abuse’ with many pamphlets on the subject. It would’ve been a nice gesture, Jensen thought, if all the nurses hadn’t touched his shoulder with a light touch that suggested any more pressure was too much for him. He was a victim, he knew and did not deny. But he wasn’t made of glass. “And depression is a common aspect of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” the doctor continued.

Jensen nodded again. He knew all this. He almost couldn’t believe that he was paying the old man as much as he was for the hour of talking, since he was only telling Jensen what he already knew.

“Many victims of abuse suffer from PTSD,” the doctor went on. “However, one of the biggest obstacles many victims face is the acceptance that they’re not to blame.”

“I know,” Jensen agreed, a little testily.

“There’s a difference between knowing that you’re not to blame, in theory, and accepting that you’re not to blame, in practice,” the man told him, and Jensen was surprised that his face gave nothing away: no pity, no anger, no understanding. He was passive, clinical.

“Well, time heals all wounds, right? That’s what you’ll tell me next,” Jensen guessed. It wasn’t meant to sound as cynical and broken as it did, but the doctor didn’t jump at the bait.

“Attempted murder,” the doctor instead replied, which made Jensen tense.

“What?” Jensen crossed his arms.

“Defensive body language,” the doctor tsked. “That’s not a good sign.”

“Oh?” Jensen narrowed his eyes.

“No, it tells me that you disagree,” the doctor said knowingly. “You don’t think it was attempted murder?”

Jensen didn’t want to answer, but the old man crossed his ankles and leaned back in his chair, like he had all the time in the world to simply wait for Jensen’s answer. Finally, Jensen managed to murmur, “He wouldn’t have killed me.”

“That’s bullshit,” the doctor replied immediately. Jensen knew he was waiting for that exact answer from Jensen. “Mr. Ackles, that’s bullshit. He would’ve killed you. Murdered you. With his own two hands. He would’ve squeezed the life from your body, watched the light go out of your eyes. Eventually.”

“No,” Jensen’s voice was quiet and sounded unconvincing, though at that time, Jensen really had believed it. “He wouldn’t have killed me.”

“Why?” the doctor challenged.

“Because he loved me.” It was a weak answer, Jensen knew.

“You’re making excuses for him,” the doctor shook his head, all knowing. “No, it was attempted murder, plain and simple. Love had nothing to do with it, only power. He wanted to exert power over you, at whatever the cost. Had your friend not been there, the cost would have been your life.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jensen tried, though he knew it was feeble. What scared him most, in that moment, was that nothing the doctor was saying made him feel any different. He still felt worthless. He still felt adrift. He still felt at fault for all that had happened. He didn’t even feel particularly inclined to argue with any sort of vehemence, either way.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” the doctor corrected. “And I know that what you lack is conviction. You came here because you’re scared of yourself. You’re afraid of the darkness that you feel, but you can’t make yourself really, really commit to fixing yourself, because you still blame yourself. PTSD is a horrible disease, Mr. Ackles. And it’s one that you have to work on fixing proactively. You have to want to get better, have to want to move on from your traumatic relationship, from Charlie trying to kill you, trying to murder you. Now, coming to me is a good first step, but it will take more to get better. You have to want to get better.”

Jensen had been spooked by the accuracy of the diagnosis, and so he never went back to the perceptive old doctor. Sure, he thought he should get better, which was what had prompted him into seeking counseling. However, at the time, he hadn’t wanted to get better. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the anger in Charlie’s eyes, and every time he tried to sleep, he would wake clutching his throat. He thought he was being punished; however, for what he did not know. He thought about the pure anger directed at him through Charlie, thought there was no way that anger had simply been bad luck. Somehow, he had deserved what he got.

However, the more he looked back on it, as more time passed, he began to get angry. He began to think that, even if it wasn’t pure happenstance that had led him to Charlie, it was unfair all the same. And that anger led him to realize that he felt wronged—and feeling wronged meant a certain lack of responsibility. It wasn’t his fault. And slowly…slowly, he began to want to get better.

And he was getting better—even before Jared had come along. Granted, Jared had helped. Exponentially. But Jensen thought, that given a little more time, he’d probably would’ve reached where he was now: feeling good, feeling happy.

“You’re smiling,” Jared’s soft voice startled Jensen from his reflective reverie. They were lying in bed early in the morning. The alarm was about to go off in five minutes, signaling that they needed to get up. The sun hadn’t risen yet.

Jensen turned to Jared, the small smile still playing across his lips, and wrapped his arm around Jared’s waist, pulling him close.

“You hardly ever smile in the morning,” Jared murmured into Jensen’s neck. “Especially not on a morning where we have to wake up before the crack of dawn to go and get on a fourteen hour flight.”

That was true, Jensen agreed. He was certainly not looking forward to spending an entire fucking day on a plane. However, he still couldn’t quite shake the smile.

“I’m good,” Jensen told Jared.

“Really? Before spending an entire fucking day on a plane, you’re good? You hate flying,” Jared replied softly.

“Okay, I’m not good about the whole flying deal,” Jensen allowed. “But…I mean…in general. I’m good. Like, I’m…better. Better than I have been in a long time. Happy.”

Jared pulled back from Jensen’s embrace to get a good look at his face, looking a little mystified, but smiling. “You’ve told me that you’re happy.”

“I know.” Jensen nodded. “I just…I like telling you. It’s…kind of new, happiness. I mean, it wasn’t always, I used to be a happy kid. But, you know, then I…I wasn’t. But things were getting better and I was content. Danny told me that being content and being happy were different, and I guess I just like not only being content. I like being happy. I love you for making me happy.”

“Jensen…” Jared leaned his forehead against Jensen’s. “I love that you’re happy. And I love that you make me happy, too. You’re amazing. Perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Jensen chuckled.

“Whoever said that never met you,” Jared argued.

Jensen sighed contently. “You’re too kind, Jay.”

“No, I could be much kinder,” Jared told Jensen matter-of-factly. “And from now on, I vow to be much kinder.”

“If you’re any kinder to me, you’ll be a goddamn Care Bear,” Jensen rolled his eyes. “You spoil me.”

“You deserve every Care Bear in the world.” Jared laughed heartily before stretching and glancing at the bedside alarm clock. “Well, our alarm is going off in a minute. Why don’t you lie here in bed and wait for it while I go start a pot of coffee.”

“Too kind,” Jensen reiterated with a smile.

“No such thing.” Jared leaned in and kissed Jensen, slow and meaningful for a long moment before leaving the bedroom, letting the dogs into the bedroom, who both jumped up momentarily onto the bed to greet Jensen before running out after their dad.

Jensen reflected for a few moments longer on just how amazingly lucky he felt suddenly before the alarm went off and he got out of bed.

“Danny’s supposed to get here in a few minutes,” Jensen said as he entered the kitchen, running a hand across Jared’s bare back as he passed to the coffee pot.

“And she’ll be good to our babies?” Jared asked.

“Yes, she’ll be very good to our babies,” Jensen laughed. “Harley and Sadie won’t even want to come back and live with us after they’ve been with her for an extended amount of time.”

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t let her watch them, then…” Jared grimaced at Jensen, who rolled his eyes.

“Then let Chad watch them like usual,” Jensen challenged and Jared frowned at him.

“No,” Jared replied quickly.

“I can’t believe you’re still giving him the cold shoulder,” Jensen threw up his hands, exasperated. “He’s not hiding his marriage from you! They went to Vegas two and a half months ago, Jared! Had they gotten married when down there, they would’ve told at least someone by now. Misha hasn’t mentioned anything to Felicia or Gen. Chad hasn’t said anything to you. So it didn’t happen. Fuck Felicia for ever planting the idea in your head.”

“There’s been evidence,” Jared protested.

“Circumstantial and situational, at best,” Jensen shook his head. “You’ve read way too much into everything they’ve done since Vegas. You need to talk to Chad about it, or else it will fucking kill your friendship, Jared. Which I know you don’t want. Right now, Chad is completely in the dark as to why you’re being such a dick. He doesn’t deserve your mistrust. Besides his general personality, there’s nothing to suggest that he would lie to you about something this important.”

Jared sighed, holding his coffee to his chest protectively. “I know,” he eventually agreed. “It’s just…he hasn’t even remotely approached the topic of their relationship with me at all.”

“Yeah, that is weird,” Jensen nodded. “Maybe their relationship isn’t as perfect as they’re painting it. Maybe he’s embarrassed to admit to that.”

“Maybe,” Jared shrugged. “Or maybe it’s going great, and he wants to marry the guy, and he just hates me.”

“Oh my God!” Jensen sighed heavily. “Obviously, you’re going insane if you think Chad, the man who sent me hate mail when we moved in together because I was taking you away from him, could possibly hate you.”

Jared frowned sullenly. “Then why isn’t he talking to me?”

“You haven’t talked in weeks because you’ve been avoiding him because you think he’s keeping something from you,” Jensen told Jared sternly. “It’s a vicious circle. What you need is to hang out with him, one on one, with every intention just to hash it out. Talk to him, Jared. After all the premier madness, you should have some quality Chad time. You have Ellen and Fallon once we get back from Sydney, right?”

“Yeah, almost back to back. Off the plane from Sydney, onto a plane to New York, then back to L.A. for Ellen all in the span of twenty-four hours. And yeah, you’re probably right,” Jared sighed. “I’ve been acting a little paranoid, I guess. I just have this…feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me he’s lying to me. Or withholding something. I know he is.”

“You know, maybe that’s not the best way to follow the paranoid statement,” Jensen pointed out.

A knock on their door paused the conversation and Jensen went to answer.

Danny stood on the threshold, clutching a to-go coffee container with red eyes and a grimace.

“Morning, Danny,” Jensen greeted with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Danny shuffled in past him, heading towards the kitchen where she undoubtedly was searching for a refill on coffee.

“Great,” she grumbled as they both entered the kitchen.

“Hey, Danny,” Jared greeted brightly.

“Don’t you talk to me,” Danny snapped at him. “You’ve managed to turn the worst fucking morning person in the world into a talking, smiling resemblance of a human being and now I’m forced to be the grouchy one.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Danny,” Jared assured. “He’s usually horrible in the mornings, can’t string two sentences together if the world depended on it. You just managed to catch him on a good day.”

“No way he’s this serene and…person-like this early in the morning before a flight,” Danny argued. “What, did you blow him before I got here?”

“No, I’m just a sunny person now,” Jensen glared at her. “Or at least I was before you showed up.”

“Aw, now see, that’s the anger I love to see in the morning,” Danny said, giving him a very un-heartfelt thumbs up. “Anyway, I’m here for the dogs. I’m house sitting. Please leave so I can go to sleep again.”

“We’ll be out in a half hour,” Jared told her, laughing and rolling his eyes at Jensen. “Feel free to go back to sleep, but we’ll be making a little bit of noise until we leave.”

“I’ll make do with a little more coffee,” Danny said, going to the pot and refilling her cup.

“You plan on drinking all my coffee?” Jensen grumbled at her, to which she gave him a tremendous pout.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Danny exclaimed bitterly. “I was wrong to question happy Jensen. Bring back happy Jensen.”

Jared walked over to Jensen and planted a huge kiss on his lips, which forced Jensen to smile.

“Yay.” Danny deadpanned. “Good. Happy Jensen.”

Jensen rolled his eyes at her. “Whatever, drink the damn coffee. I’ll get coffee at the airport. C’mon, Jared. We need to finish packing and call the cab.”

They went back into their bedroom, where they began the final preparations for their trip—which really just meant washing up, and throwing a few last things into their carry-on’s. Jensen dialed for the cab in the bathroom with Jared while Jared brushed his teeth. Once Jensen had hung up, he watched Jared fondly.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jared asked, voice muffled by the toothpaste in his mouth.

“I love you,” Jensen replied, shrugging. “I like looking at you.”

“While I’m brushing my teeth?” Jared laughed and a few droplets dripped down his chin. Jensen scrunched his nose.

“You’re right, that’s disgusting,” Jensen chuckled. “Don’t talk with toothpaste in your mouth.”

Jared laughed again and leaned down to drink water from the faucet, making Jensen scrunch his nose again.

“God, I love when you do the nose scrunch,” Jared told him when he straightened.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Jared nodded with a grin. “It’s adorable.”

“My nose scrunch is adorable?” Jensen laughed incredulously.

“Very adorable,” Jared agreed.

“Sure.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “Well, now that we’ve firmly cemented that I am, in fact, adorable, we should grab our things and head out to load up the cab.”
“You think it’s here already?” Jared asked.

“Well, they gave me an ETA of five minutes,” Jensen told him. “I mean, they have to be quick now, to compete with Uber.”

“Why didn’t we just get an Uber?” Jared inquired innocently, and Jensen rolled his eyes.

“Because the last time we got an Uber, the driver raved at you about how big a fan he was for the entire ride,” Jensen said. “Which would have been fine, and probably flattering for you, if he had let either of us get a word in edge wise.”

“That was a freak accident,” Jared replied. “I mean, I am not well known. That guy was just one of those horror movie nuts. I doubt it would happen twice in a row.”

“Yeah, but anyway,” Jensen shrugged. “I feel like we should support the cab companies a little, here and there. They’re going out of business.”

“Alright,” Jared smiled at him. “Whatever you say.”

“Damn straight,” Jensen agreed.

“So, are you going to dope up and pass out for the flight?” Jared asked as they exited the bathroom and grabbed their suitcases, flinging their carry-on backpacks over their shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jensen replied honestly. “I don’t want to abandon you on a fourteen hour flight. I’ll stay awake with you.”

“Dude,” Jared laughed. “No need. Really, I’d much rather you were comfortable instead of tense. I mean, I’m probably going to sleep a lot of the time anyway, and when I’m not, I’ll read.”

“Are you sure, man?” Jensen asked, feeling a fair bit guilty.

“I know you, Jensen.” Jared put his hand briefly against Jensen cheek before heading into the hallway. “Knocking yourself out will be much better. Plus, you’re not exactly loquacious when you’re flying anyway.”

Jensen smiled at him as they reached the front door. “Too kind.”

“Boy, is our conversation redundant this morning,” Jared joked before peeking behind the curtain of the bay window next to the door. “You’re right, cab’s outside.”

“Great,” Jensen exclaimed before yelling, “Danny!”

“Bye!” she called back, just as Jared gave a whistle for the dogs, who came running. Jared gave warm goodbyes to both dogs, and Jensen gave them both kisses before standing back up.

“Come say bye to us like a real friend!” Jensen admonished, to which he heard incoherent grumbling before Danny came out with a wide, fake smile plastered across her tired face.

“Bye,” she said again, hugging Jared then Jensen. “Hope you have a safe flight.”

“I hate when people say that,” Jensen told her with a frown, to which a real smile replaced the fake.

“I know,” she grinned at him. “You hate it because it suggests an alternate scenario where you don’t have a safe flight, which you’d rather not think about.”

“Which I now am,” Jensen frowned deeper, real nerves prickling down his back.

“Thank you for that,” Jared grumbled at her, but was hiding a small smile as they waved and opened the front door, walking out to the cab with a final wave.

Once at the airport, security surprisingly quick this early on a weekday, they hardly waited in the terminal before boarding. Jensen had worked himself into a fairly respectable frenzy as they walked the jet way. Though he hid his building panic from Jared, he knew the younger man sensed his tension. They spilled into their seats from the aisle and almost immediately, Jared was handing Jensen two sleeping pills, and a bottle of water that Jared had quickly talked the flight attendant into handing over on the walk to their seats.

Jensen downed them and was out like a light before the jet was even in motion. He dreamt a disgustingly vivid dream that started with sunflowers, his favorite type of flower because they used to grow wild at the edge of the lake at the ranch. But soon, the flowers would only turn their seeded faces away from Jensen, which gave him a great sense of cold. Then, he was with Jared, but it wasn’t completely Jared. Instead, it was Jared with Charlie’s eyes, and he was incredibly hurt and angry when Jensen wouldn’t let Jared-with-Charlie-eyes near him.

“I’m not him,” Jared kept screaming and Jensen couldn’t utter a sound, not even to tell Jared screaming at him was only making him more and more on edge. He eventually gave up trying to evade him, kneeling down in defeat. When he did, Jared knelt down with him, and his eyes were suddenly his own. “I’m not him,” he reiterated and Jensen rolled his eyes, before slipping into a quiet darkness that was tremendously comfortable and warm.

When he woke, it was because his shoulder was being gently prodded. He pried open his eyes with difficulty and stared uncomprehendingly at Jared, who was smiling at him.

“Benvenuti a Roma,” Jared said to him huskily, voice sexily hoarse from disuse.

“Grazie,” Jensen replied groggily, feeling like he was look at everything through a thin veil of fog.

“You slept through the entire flight,” Jared said, seemingly impressed. Jensen realized the plane was still moving and glanced out the window to see that they were indeed landed on an airstrip, heading to the main airport.

“Good,” Jensen replied, relieved. He stretched and frowned at Jared. “I hate sleeping pills, though. They give me the weirdest dreams.”

“Oh? Like what?” Jared asked.

“Sunflowers wouldn’t look at me,” Jensen murmured, trying to grasp at the wisps of disappearing details. “And you had different eyes…or something…I don’t know.”

“That is weird,” Jared conquered and the flight attendant came onto the intercom to announce their ended flight. Within the hour, they had been rushed out of the airport and into a dark SUV by a very happy young Italian girl who worked for the hotel they were staying at. They were driven into Rome to a very ritzy hotel and Jensen nodded in surprised appreciation.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Looks like the studio is paying for the best. The movie must’ve impressed some executives or something.”

“That’s a good sign, right?” Jared asked a little nervously and Jensen turned to grin at him.

“That’s a very good sign,” Jensen reassured. “I mean, it means they loved the movie, right?”

“We’ll have to ask Felicia.” Jared replied. “Do you think she’s there already?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen shrugged. “She left for New York a couple days ago, and said she was flying out from there, but she didn’t say when.”

“The premier doesn’t start until six tonight, and the panel isn’t until afterwards, so she has a little bit of time still,” Jared pointed out.

“All very true, but does Felicia really seem like the type to not want to be early if at all possible?” Jensen chuckled.

“Also very true,” Jared agreed. “I guess we’ll just have to see when we get inside. I assume we’re all staying at the same hotel?”

“Yes,” the Italian girl in the front seat confirmed. “Mrs. Day arrived just one hour ago with a Mr. Collins.”

Jared and Jensen both laughed. “Of course,” they said in tandem.

“Poor Gen,” Jared lamented.

“Yeah, it must suck to be too preggers to fly,” Jensen agreed and Jared laughed, pushing his shoulder.

They pulled into an underground parking garage and were taken up to their rooms directly from the elevator, where two bag boys waited, bypassing the lobby completely. It was all a very efficient process that took less than five minutes. They were delivered into separate rooms, to Jensen’s astonishment. Once their helpers had left, all tipped extremely well, Jensen found that their rooms had an adjourning door. He unlocked his side and knocked on Jared’s rather politely. Jared answered with a grin.

“We should really tell whoever reserves the room that one will really suffice for us,” Jared laughed. “It will undoubtedly save them a lot of money.”

“Probably,” Jensen agreed. “Sydney, I suppose. Anyway, look at the view!”

Jensen beckoned Jared into his room and began walking towards the terrace. They had an absolutely gorgeous view of Rome. When Jensen looked back to grin at Jared, he saw the tall man leaning against a sofa, far from the terrace.

“Right,” Jensen said, with a smile. “Heights.”

“Heights,” Jared confirmed with a bashful smile.

Jensen walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Jared’s waist, hugging Jared close. Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen’s neck limply and they stayed like that for a long moment before they both pulled away with smiles.

“So, we have a few hours to kill before we have to get ready,” Jared pointed out. “What shall we do?”

“We could explore the city,” Jensen suggested, which made Jared grin.

“We could, indeed,” Jared agreed. “C’mon!”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and Jensen followed him out with a huge grin. When they got to the lobby, Jensen’s phone rang. He glanced at the display and saw it was Felicia.

“It’s Felicia,” Jensen told Jared, flashing the screen at the younger man as testimony.

“Do you want to invite her?” Jared asked good-naturedly.

“Yeah, unless you have inappropriate plans for me once we’re in the city,” Jensen shrugged.

“Now I do, don’t invite her!” Jared’s eyes lit up mischievously.

Jensen rolled his eyes at Jared and answered. “Hey, Felicia. Benvenuti a Roma.”

“Same to you, Ackles,” she replied. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re just heading out, going to explore the city before the premier. You’re welcome to join us, though get your ass down here quick. We’re hailing a cab as we speak,” Jensen replied.

“No, I can’t. Misha and I have things to go over with the panel after the show. And you realize that the hotel offers drivers, right?” Felicia pointed out, and Jensen grabbed Jared’s arm right as he raised it at a passing taxi.

He slanted the phone a little away from his mouth and asked Jared, “The hotel offers cars and drivers, would you prefer that?”

“Hell no!” Jared exclaimed. “I want authenticity, damnit.”

“Jared wants authenticity, apparently,” Jensen told Felicia.

“Well, tell me how that works out,” Felicia laughed. “Anyway, I’ll see you in a few hours! Have fun, and buy a t-shirt for Gen while you’re out, I’ll reimburse you!”

“You will not reimburse me, how ludicrous,” Jensen laughed. “What size should I get her, current size, or post-baby?”

“Post-baby,” Felicia provided. “So, a medium.”

“Great, coming right up,” Jensen agreed. Jared hailed a taxi and they both got in. “Oh, and before I let you go, do you know whoever reserves the rooms?”

“Yes, why?”

“Can you give me their number, I want to tell them that Jared and I only need one room,” Jensen replied. “Economical, and all that.”

Felicia laughed for a long moment. “How about I just pass the message along. I’m sure I can haggle you a shared room in Sydney.”

“Much appreciated, Felicia.” Jensen smiled at Jared, wiggling his eyebrows. “See you later!”

“See you,” Felicia gave her farewell and hung up. Jensen slipped his phone back into his pocket and smiled at Jared.

“We got ourselves one room, Mr. Padalecki,” he informed.

“Oh, how very scandalous,” Jared laughed.

“First thing’s first: I think we need coffee. Good Italian espresso,” Jensen grinned, and smiled fondly when Jared yawned in return. “You more than me, for once.”

Jared laughed and nodded. “Yeah, you slept the whole plane ride, amazingly. I only slept a solid nine hours.”

They headed downtown, and after coffee, they went to see the sights. Jared was mesmerized by all the statues, and Jensen was fond of the coliseum. They managed to have sex in the restrooms of the coliseum, which Jensen was particularly proud of.

“We just had sex where the Gladiator has been,” Jensen laughed breathily as they exited, a fair amount of disgruntled tourists watching as they walked away.

They didn’t manage to see too much before they had to go back in time to shower and get ready for the premier. They managed to buy a coliseum t-shirt for all of their friends, along with both their sister’s, who they knew would love that they a) bought them matching shirts, and b) bought them in Italy. When they finally made it back to the hotel, they had to rush to their rooms and jump into the shower together, without any of the fun usual shower shenanigans. The shower was easily big enough to accommodate them both comfortably, and Jensen was impressed at them being able to keep their showering business-like and quick.

“Okay, note to self, take the proffered hotel approved drivers, because cabbies here are scary as hell,” Jared said as they were stepping from the steaming shower.

“No kidding,” Jensen agreed. “I can’t believe we almost hit an old lady!”

“I can’t believe he pulled over,” Jared muttered.

“Of course he did, he almost ran her over!” Jensen said, ruffling a small amount of gel into his short, wet hair.

“Well, it looked like he was aiming for her deliberately,” Jared almost laughed as he combed through his luscious locks. “I mean, I thought when he got out, he was doing so to finish the job.”

“I wish he’d let it go, now we’re running late,” Jensen said, then felt immediately bad. “I didn’t mean that. Oh, God, I’m going to Hell.”

“Jen, calm down,” Jared laughed. “I’ll be there with you.”

Jensen laughed and briskly walked into his room to dawn his outfit. He hated premiers. That is, he hated the premiers he’d been to, which was one. With his previous film, the only other
production that was produced to the level of warranted international premiers, he’d only been invited to the one in Hollywood, and therefore had only attended one previous premier. However, he had stressed about that one far more than he had about the one he was currently getting ready for. Now, he had Jared to base his outfit off of. Before, he has hardly sure if what he went in was entirely too dressy, or if he needed to tone it down. He had worn a simple dark burgundy suit, and since he had splurged for one that was so expensive he nearly hadn’t, at a stylist’s suggestion, he hadn’t felt so bad. Now, he was wearing another suit, this one dark navy, with a black shirt underneath, no tie. Jared was wearing a black smoking jacket over a deep violet dress shirt, and dark gray slacks that Jensen had forced him to buy because his ass looked completely fuckable, in a horribly unholy way, which Jensen greatly appreciated.

When he was done, he walked into Jared’s room to find a great view of Jared’s ass as Jared tucked his shirt into his pants.

“Mmm, I love those pants on you,” Jensen murmured, coming up behind him to run his hands on his butt then up around his waist.

“Do you mind, I’m trying to tuck in my shirt,” Jared laughed, resting a hand on Jensen’s. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied, and was distracted as his cell rang in his pocket. He looked and smiled. “It’s Felicia again.”

“Why does she call you, more?” Jared pouted at him in the mirror as Jensen stepped away from him. “Does she like you more?”

“No,” Jensen laughed. “Surely not. She calls me every second of every day about our project, I’m probably above even Gen on her call log.”

Jared laughed. “I don’t envy that.”

“Hey, Felicia,” he greeted as he raised the phone to his ear with a dramatic eye roll at Jared.

“Don’t roll your eyes,” Felicia quipped quickly.

“I am not—how did you know?” Jensen was completely astonished.

“Oh please, if I had a dollar for every time you rolled your eyes, I could quit the movie business and live comfortably for the rest of my life,” Felicia retorted. “What room are you guys’ in?”

“415,” Jensen replied. “Are you on your way over?”

Felicia hung up the phone without replying and not ten seconds later, there was an urgent knock at their door. Jensen rolled his eyes again at Jared as they both went to answer it. They were beat to the punch, though, as the door flew open and Felicia waltzed in, Misha behind her, looking as though he were going to throttle her.

“You didn’t lock your door?” Jensen asked Jared, but Felicia answered first.

“I swiped a master key from the passing maid,” she told them and they exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“Felicia, are you okay?” Jensen asked.

“Yes, but you know what? Those studio nut jobs are going to be the death of me,” Felicia seethed.

“What happened?” Jared looked from Felicia and Misha to Jensen, waiting for any sort of reply.

“Nothing,” Misha sighed heavily. “She’s just nervous. And I’m going to kill her. She’s been up for 48 hours straight.”

“Oh, Felicia,” Jensen sighed. “Have you had coffee?”

“Yes,” she replied too quickly. “Four espressos from the café downstairs.”

“And six mochas,” Misha added angrily.

“Well, I’ve been up since the dawn of time,” Felicia snapped then took a deep breath, as though trying to calm her undoubtedly rampaging heart.

“Alright, I think now is the best time to go downstairs,” Jensen sighed. “Hopefully you’ll make it through the movie without passing out, Felicia.”

They all headed into the hallway towards the elevator.

“Oh, this is my baby,” Felicia replied reverently. “This is my favorite of all my projects, so far. I love my baby. There’s no way I could fall asleep.”

“Uh-huh,” Jared grabbed Jensen’s hand and shot a grin at him. “We’ll see.”

“Five bucks,” Jensen murmured under his breath, and Jared squeezed his hand in agreement, adding a nod for further clarification.

They went in two separate limos, Misha and Felicia in one, and Jared and Jensen in the other. When they got there, Misha and Felicia first, Jensen couldn’t help but tremble a little. So many cameras pointed at their door, so many reporters with eager faces.

“I am so glad I’m a nobody,” Jensen murmured as they slid up to the curb. “You and Felicia, you’ll be stopped, interviewed. But Misha and I, we could probably walk right through the gauntlet without a care in the world.”

“You’re lucky,” Jared agreed, scrunching up his face enviously.

“Of course, I’ll stay by your side,” Jensen automatically said.

“No,” Jared shook his head. “I know this kind of stuff makes you nauseous. Please, go ahead of me, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“No, I’m by your side,” Jensen shook his head resolutely. “That way, we can both get through quickly.”

“Okay, but leave the moment you feel like you’re going to start puking, fainting, or throwing punches,” Jared warned, to which Jensen nodded.

They got out and immediately, the flashes of cameras was blinding, and Jensen nearly stumbled. The knot of anxiety in the pit of Jensen’s stomach immediately tripled and he could feel the tension radiating off his body. Jared prodded him forward and they began their walk. They ignored the reporters at the front, instead heading to the say hello to other arriving cast members, then slowly trailing over to the reporters in the middle. The first was a nice young woman whose accent suggested native upbringing, but whose English was better than Jensen’s.

“Mr. Padalecki, you look nice this evening,” she greeted with a large smile, and then turned to Jensen. “And you as well, Mr. Ackles. You make a handsome pair.”

Jensen nodded and smiled, but felt like his knees were giving out as he avoided eye contact with everyone behind the reporter.

“Mr. Padalecki, your presence in this movie has generated a lot of positivity,” she went on. “Many believe, even before seeing the actual movie, that it is most definitely to be nominated for the Academy Awards. Do you believe you will receive an award?”

“Well, I am extremely fond of the film, that’s for sure,” Jared replied, a little evasively. “I think it’s award worthy. Both Felicia Day, the director, and Jensen here deserve awards for their hard work and dedication to this great movie.”

“You’re too modest,” the reporter smiles at him, then turns to Jensen. “Do you think Mr. Padalecki’s performance is worthy of an award, Mr. Ackles?”

Jensen froze for a moment, but managed to blurt reasonably respectably, “Yes, but then again, I’m biased.”

The reporter smiled good-naturedly, and Jared and Jensen excused themselves.

“I definitely should’ve gotten drunk for this,” Jensen murmured to Jared as they walked down a little further.

“Agreed,” Jared laughed. “That would’ve been very entertaining for me.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Jensen replied tightly, then sighed. “Sorry, this is very stressful.”

“I know, babe,” Jared nodded, eyes suddenly understanding. “Go on ahead, I’ll rush through these vultures quickly by myself and meet you in there.”

“No,” Jensen shook his head. “How am I going to make it through an entire panel if I can’t even make it through this? I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Jared immediately replied. “Just because you’re not comfortable with the whole smiling at strangers Hollywood bit does not make you weak.”

“Thanks,” Jensen replied appreciatively. “But I’m still staying with you.”

They managed to only stop at three other reporters before entering the theater. Jensen had to answer mundane, predictable questions at each one, though not as many as Jared. When they got inside, Jensen made himself breathe deeply for a few long moments before sighing heavily.

“You good?” Jared asked, concern coloring his voice.

“Yeah,” Jensen replied, trying to shake the nerves. How as he going to survive the panel?

They went into the theater and before long, the movie started. Jensen sat in between Jared and Felicia, both his hands gripped by his seat companions, Jared’s grip loose and comfortable, while Felicia’s was like a vice. They watched the movie, and Jensen was pleased. Extraordinarily pleased. Though he had been there for the entirety of filming, he was still impressed with Jared’s acting, which was beyond impressive. It made him fall in love with Jared again and again, as the characters waltzed through the plot seamlessly. Halfway through, he glanced at Felicia to see tears trailing down her cheeks. She looked at him, and smiled, leaning over to whisper,

“You know you’re an absolute brilliant fucking writer when the director is crying at your dialogue.”

“That’s not my dialogue, that’s my boyfriend,” Jensen told her, to which she grinned, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.

“It’s both,” she compromised and turned back to the screen.

Once it was over, everyone was silent for a long moment, waiting until the very last note of the ending credit song petered out. It was dead quiet, except for the sniffling that spread throughout the theater. Then, as if the movie-goers had rehearsed it, everyone but Felicia, Misha, Jared, and Jensen began clapping uproariously, jumping from their seats for a standing ovation.

The four of them stood, and Misha joined the applause. Felicia turned to throw her arms around Jensen, then to throw them around Misha. Jensen turned to Jared and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“That was fucking brilliant because of you,” he said into Jared’s ear, having to speak at normal volume to be heard over the roar of applause. “I love you.”

Jared hugged him tight and pulled away to kiss Jensen deeply for a long moment before grinning.

“It was both of us,” he grinned, taking the compliment and Jensen laughed. Then Jared leaned closer again to add, “And you owe me five bucks.”

Jensen laughed. “That was a dumb bet.”

“I thought so too,” Jared agreed. “Easy money.”

The applause died down after a full five minutes. Jensen felt a little peevish as everyone from seats around him clapped him, Felicia, and Jared on the back, along with the rest of the cast that took up the front rows. After it had quieted, a man, presumably the theater manager, walked onto the stage with a microphone.

“Outstanding,” he greeted. “An outstanding film. Truly. Now, in five minutes, we have a special panel featuring Felicia Day, director, Jared Padalecki, lead actor, and Jensen Ackles, screenwriter. This panel is held for students and press only. If I could ask everyone else to exit in an orderly fashion…thank you very much.”

Everyone not included in the panel started to leave, and three chairs were carried out onto the elevated stage in front of the screen. Misha guided the three of them to their seats, beckoning a young boy over who gave them each a microphone. The students and press moved to the front rows, and Jensen felt his nerves kicking up again as he saw that there were upwards of 150+ people in the audience still. Misha took a seat in the front row once they were settled, offering a thumbs up. The theater manager came back on as the last remnants of the other guests trailed out regretfully.

“Thank you all for attending this great event,” the greeted the remaining. “Now, students shall have the floor for questions for the first hour, or until there are no questions left. Reporters may have the remaining time afterwards.”

And just like that, the panel was open. The tech boy that Misha had summoned waited on the sidelines to run microphones to whoever was asking the question. The young students would offer their names and then their question, and whoever it was directed to would answer. It was a fairly straightforward process, and Jensen found himself sweating and feeling sick to his core. Luckily for him, most of the questions were aimed at Jared and Felicia, though a few were thrown at him too.

The first of which had caught him off guard.

“Hello, my name is Sophia,” the young girl had taken the microphone from the tech boy with shaking hands and note cards that undoubtedly immortalized her questions. Jensen had felt for her before she had turned her gaze upon him. “This question is for Mr. Ackles.” Jensen nodded stiffly, trying for what he hoped looked like an encouraging smile. He had always been pretty alright at acting, so he tried to channel the part of him that had once been trained to shed his personality to dawn another. It worked slightly, allowing his smile to lighten, which seemed to encourage the girl. “I love your work, I’d like to say first. And, uh, I also like to write films. So, one of the things that I, uh, find hardest is finding dialogue that really encompasses the personalities and moves the plot forward. So, I was wondering, especially with this film which was excellent in that respect, how do you find the inspiration for such consuming dialogue?”

“The voices in my head,” he blurted, and immediately blushed, though the entire audience laughed as though he had said it on purpose. “Just…kidding,” he added to clarify. “No…well…uh…with my, uh, characters, I draw a lot of my, uh, inspiration from people in, uh, life. Not necessarily people I, uh, know, per se, but just people that I, uh, notice sometimes. If I’m, uh, at a restaurant and see someone unique, that kind of ghost of a personality, I guess you could say, stays with me, and then I, uh, embellish on that. And, uh, I’ve never been really good at, uh, talking in person. I’ve always been better brain-to-pen than brain-to-mouth, uh, you could say, so my dialogue reflects that, I think.”

The girl beamed at Jensen. “Me either,” she agreed, and Jensen felt a little better.

The rest of the questions directed at Jensen were mostly stylistic, and easily answered quickly. The time seemed to fly by as the students kept coming up with question after question. Finally, the manger came up to announce the last question, and then they moved on to the press. The press didn’t have many questions, the students having asked a plethora of them already. They were allowed out of the theater eventually, and then off they flew to the after-party that was pretty much almost over anyhow. Two hours and sixteen shots between them later, Jared and Jensen managed to stumble into Jared’s room, collapsing in a heap on Jared’s bed without taking even their shoes off.

“We have to be on a plane to Sydney in ten hours,” Jensen slurred into one of the pillows.

“I set my alarm for nine hours from now this morning,” Jared replied. “We need sleep.”

Jensen nodded in agreement, already slipping away into unconsciousness. He managed to say before passing out, “I’m madly in love you with, Mr. Padalecki.” He slurred Jared’s last name, but he thought the gist was there.

“Ditto,” Jared murmured and they were both asleep within seconds.