Chapter Text
Jensen blinks slowly up at the dark ceiling. He sighs. He looks over at Jared. He is fast asleep, his breathing deep and quiet. Still too loud. Jensen rolls over on his side. Covers his ear with his hand. He stares at his own face, reflected in the mirrored closet door. He looks tired. They won’t like that. He closes his eyes. He can feel the blood move through his veins, can feel every nerve ending firing off, like ants under his skin, every organ in his body vibrating with tension.
Jared lets out a snore and Jensen flinches. He looks at the clock on his nightstand. They have to be up in five hours and twenty-four minutes. Jensen closes his eyes again. He is too hot under the thin sheet, but he can’t sleep without something covering him. He lets one foot peek out. It helps cool him down, but it also means he is not completely covered anymore. His foot starts to tingle. He pulls it back in, rubs it against his other foot.
He checks the clock. They have to be up in five hours and nineteen minutes. Jared lets out another snore, louder this time. Jensen curls his fingers, counts to ten. He’s only at seven when Jared snores again. Jensen rolls over and pushes Jared’s shoulder, again and again, until he finally stirs and mumbles something unintelligible before rolling over on his other side.
Blessed silence.
Jensen closes his eyes again.
Jared breathes.
Jensen is up and out of bed, stomping out of the bedroom, across the hall to the spare room. Flips off the bedspread and crawls under the heavy duvet. It smells of laundry detergent and disuse, but it’s cool against his skin. For now. He closes his eyes. His breathing is loud and erratic in the quiet room. He hears soft feet pad across the floor and after a moment Sadie’s weight sinks the mattress before she settles by his feet. His breathing slowly calms down. His head and limbs grow heavy.
He jerks awake to his alarm going off in the other room across the hall. It must have been ringing for a while because he can hear Jared grunting and then loud whacks as he tries to silence the clock, finally succeeding. Then, “Jensen…?”
Jensen’s eyes burn with exhaustion. His body is boiling hot. He turns over on his back with a groan, throwing off the thick duvet. He’s been sweating buckets under it, the sheet and his pillow are soaked, the duvet damp and heavy. A vague memory of fire slips away before he can grasp it, leaving only his heart beating painfully in his throat.
Jensen stares up at the ceiling. He feels like he weighs four hundred pounds, half of them in his head. Moving is out of the question. He can’t go to work. He can’t. He can’t get up. He can’t get dressed. He can’t go out. He can’t.
A soft noise makes him turn his head. Jared is standing in the doorway, wearing only his boxers. He takes in Jensen’s sweat-soaked t-shirt and raises an eyebrow. “Hey. You okay?”
Jensen throws an arm over his eyes.
He hears Jared’s bare feet cross the floor. Then lips descend on his pinched mouth, kissing him softly. He smells minty toothpaste and sighs in relief. He kisses Jared back, despite having morning breath himself. Jared never minds.
“Rough night?” Jared asks.
Jensen nods. Help me, he thinks. Tell them I can’t. Tell them I’m sick. Tell them anything. Just don’t make me go. I can’t.
“I’ll take first shower. You just relax a few more minutes.” Then Jared’s gone, back across the hall and into the bathroom. Jensen hears him close the door.
He tries to relax, but the bed is too clammy. It’s unbearable. He wants to rip his skin off. He drags himself out of bed, strips off his t-shirt and underwear, and shuffles naked to their bedroom. Crawls under the still warm sheets and closes his eyes. He’s not getting up. He’s not. He can’t.
By the time Jensen comes down Jared has made coffee and put Jensen’s All-Bran on the table. The shower washed away the sweat that was sticking to his skin, but he feels just as tired, just as heavy. Jared kisses the side of his head but otherwise leaves him be. Let’s the dogs in from the yard and fills their bowls.
Jensen drinks his coffee. He eats his All-Bran. Jared tops up his mug. The car will be here soon, but they’ve still got a few minutes.
“Did you get any sleep?” Jared asks.
Jensen looks up but Jared only seems concerned, not hurt or annoyed at him for having moved over to the other room. “Yes. A few hours.” Jared is still watching him, so he adds, “You were breathing.”
The smile is slow but soft. “Well, thank God for that. It would have been worse if I stopped,” he points out when Jensen huffs.
“Yes.” Jensen sighs.
“You know you can ask me to move to the other room, so you can have our bed to yourself. I don’t mind.”
“It’s my problem,” Jensen points out. “I’m the one who can’t sleep, so I move.”
“I’m the one who breathes too loud for you to sleep,” Jared counters.
Jensen doesn’t answer because this whole conversation is too stupid to waste energy on.
Jared sighs and says, “At least let me change the bedding. It’s still got the winter set since last time your mom visited. Just in case I breathe too loud again,” he says before Jensen can argue that he’s making it sound like Jensen is swapping beds all the time when it was just. One. Stupid. Night.
Jensen rolls his eyes. He sips his coffee. He inches away when Jared tries to put his arm around him. “Ants,” he says so Jared won’t feel hurt, even if there aren’t any, not at the moment. He just feels too tired to be touched.
Jared’s phone buzzes. “The car is here,” he says.
Jensen doesn’t say anything because he knows, and Jared knows he knows, and he just wants to go back to bed, because he can’t do this! He can’t step outside the door, he can’t go to work, he can’t talk to all those people. He just wants to go back to bed and not have to do anything!
He gets up, puts on his shoes, his jacket. Nods goodbye to Sadie and Harley. Follows Jared to the car. Smiles like a normal person and says, “Good morning!” and “Great to be back!” and “Crazy heat we’re having.” Ignores Jared worried glances. Feels the smile slip away as soon as the car starts moving. Closes his eyes and leans his head against the window.
When he slides his hand across the seat, Jared’s is there, waiting. Large and warm and comforting. Only then does Jensen remember that Jared doesn’t even have a scene today, he’s only coming along to keep Jensen company. Oh. He feels guilty for being so cranky. He feels grateful, more grateful than he can explain. He squeezes Jared’s hand and some of the weight slips off his chest when Jared squeezes back. He falls asleep.
Jensen hates first days of shooting. Everyone wants to hug and talk a lot and ask how he is and what he did during hiatus. He says something, hopefully not too incriminating. Most people know about him and Jared, but not all. He has trouble remembering which ones don’t. It’s stressful.
The ants are crawling back, one by one.
He plasters on a smile. Keeps glued to Jared’s side. Goes to wardrobe and slips on Dean’s clothes, like a second skin. Feels slightly better. Goes to makeup and fights the instinct to lash out the minute Jeannie touches him.
“Want some coffee first?” she asks in a hushed voice, and he nods, breathing harshly through his nose. Only then does he notice how quiet it is. The usual music has been turned down, the lights are muted, as much as the girls can manage while still being able to do their job.
Jeannie brings him a cup of coffee and then lets him be while Jared tells her and Shannon about the trip they took to Santa Monica, keeping his voice low, his laughter soft. Jensen closes his eyes, sips his coffee, and breathes.
When Jeannie comes back to him, he takes a deep breath and says, “Didn’t sleep well.”
She smiles. “I know. You never do before the first day.”
He feels a little stupid, and a lot relieved that they know he’s not being rude on purpose.
She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at him in the mirror. “The usual?” she jokes.
He opens his mouth to tell her it’s been four months so, now that he’s alive again, Dean’s hair should be longer, even if he was dead. If all of Dean’s scars got healed, his hair should have grown. It’s only logical. But his heart speeds up, without warning, so fast he has to dig his fingernails into his thighs to keep himself from jumping up and running away.
He says, “I was thinking mohawk,” and manages a smile when they burst out laughing. Jared catches his gaze in the mirror, looking so relieved Jensen wishes he could think of more jokes, so Jared will believe he’s fine, fine, fine, but he’s all tapped out. Instead, he breathes slowly and kneads his anxiety into a small, tight ball in his chest.
By the time they leave for his first scene, he’s built up a strong enough shell around it that when Jared asks him how he’s doing, he can easily lie and say he’s fine.
They close the casket over his head, blocking out the bright sun. For a moment it’s just him, in total darkness and silence, and for the first time all day he feels okay.
Until his lizard brain realizes where he is, and before he can tell it it’s alright, he’s safe, the fragile shell surrounding his ball of anxiety EXPLODES! His heartbeat races up to a million as the oxygen promptly evaporates from the coffin. His body is paralyzed. His chest feels as heavy as if there were six feet of dirt sitting on top of it. He blinks rapidly, forcing himself to take very shallow breaths, even if all he wants to do is gulp in what little oxygen is left.
A voice in his ear asks if he’s alright and he wants to scream that he’s not! He doesn’t want to do this. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home.
He has to do his job.
He lies with a nod, knowing they can see him on the small cameras that are strategically placed to get the best angles.
“Good,” the voice says, sounding calm and soothing. Oh, it’s Kim. Of course. Jensen knew that. He just couldn’t hear it over the whoosh-whoosh in his ears.
“You’re doing fine, kiddo. Remember, there’s enough air in there to last you an hour at least and you’re only gonna be there for a few minutes. If it’s too much, we can get you out any time, you just let us know. Jensen? Nod if you can hear me.”
Jensen nods again. Kim is speaking slowly, carefully enunciating each word, making sure he doesn’t have to repeat himself so they can get this done as quickly as possible. That’s what he said he would do, and he is. Some of the weight lifts off Jensen’s chest. This is Kim, he trusts Kim. Kim is good. Kim is the best. Kim will not let him suffocate and die in this stupid, stupid box.
Then they shovel a foot of dirt over him.
He doesn’t remember anything from Kim saying, “And we’re rolling,” in his ear and until he’s lying flat on his back on the ground, gulping in air. He has no idea how long it took, if he said what he was supposed to say, did what he was supposed to do. His heart is racing. He feels really dizzy. He thinks he might have to throw up. The sky is very bright. It hurts his eyes. There’s dirt in his eyelashes, crusted at the corners of his lips, dusted all over his skin, his hair. His mouth tastes like chocolate. He’s confused for a moment but then he remembers they’re using crushed Oreos in case he swallows any of it. He thinks he did. His throat feels really dry. He might have to throw up. He might have to throw up. He might–
“Hey, you okay?”
Jared’s big head fills the sky. Jensen closes his eyes. No. He’s not. It’s too much. Everything is too much.
Fuck.
It’s the first day. He can’t bail on the first day. He has to do his job.
He nods.
“That looked amazing, by the way. Want me to help you up?”
He starts to shake his head, not sure he can let anyone touch him right now, not even Jared, but he can feel how weak his knees are, even lying down. Tingling. He nods and stretches his hand upwards. Jared pulls him up in one easy move. He’s so strong. He’s been working out a lot. Sam grew up while Dean was in Hell, that’s the idea anyway. Muscles built on grief and fury. And demon blood.
Jared backs off with raised hands as soon as Jensen is standing steady, for which Jensen is grateful, until he realizes Jared is just making sure he doesn’t accidentally dust off any of the fake dirt. It needs to still be there in the next scene.
“It’s Oreos,” Jensen says when he notices Jared looking him over.
“That explains why you smell so good,” Jared says and smiles. He still looks concerned. He’s been looking concerned ever since this morning. Jensen wonders just how bad he looks for Jared to be this worried.
“I’m fine,” he lies. “I’m good. I’m okay.”
“Good,” Jared says gently. “But you know it’s okay to not be fine. That was a really tough thing you just did. You’re allowed to be rattled.”
Jensen swallows. “I’m okay. I can do my job.”
Jared looks at him. He reaches out but then remembers, and his hand falls by his side. “Okay. They might wanna go again,” he says, watching Jensen carefully.
Jensen hopes his face doesn’t look too pale under all the dirt. He feels like he must be very pale. Like there’s no blood left in his skin because it’s all pumping wildly in his heart.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m fine.” He’s not. He’s not, he’s not! He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. “Don’t worry.”
He spots Kim coming over and quickly checks that his face isn’t doing anything weird. He can never be sure, but it feels okay. Slack. Calm. “I’m fine,” he lies again before Kim has time to open his mouth. “Was it okay?”
“It was great,” Kim says. He smiles. “Really good. I’m keeping it.”
The relief is immense. He feels dizzy. “Really?” He doesn’t say he can’t remember what he did.
“Really. One Take Ackles strikes again. We’re taking ten. Drink some water, kiddo. It’s hot as hell. Well, you would know.” Kim chuckles as he leaves them.
Jensen looks at Jared. “He means because Dean was just there,” Jared explains with a smile.
“I’m not Dean. I’ve never been to Hell. And we don’t know if Hell is hot. Hell might be cold, even freezing. Nordic mythology–”
“Want me to get you some water?” Jared says quickly and Jensen remembers he promised to stop talking about Hell.
“Yes. Thank you. Sorry.”
“It’s alright. You can probably go sit down if you want,” Jared suggests before jogging to fetch him a water bottle.
Jensen looks over where his chair is. With his name. As if he might forget. It’s at least twenty-five feet away, closer to thirty. His legs still feel like they might collapse. He sits down on the grass instead. He’s already dirty so no one should yell at him for it.
There’s not a cloud in the sky, the sun is burning hot and bright, there are about sixty people around, at least half of them are talking. Louder and louder and louder. Jensen rests his arms on his knees and breathes. Gathers the tattered snarls of his anxiety and kneads it back into a ball. Tighter, tighter, tighter.
---------
Jared doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy to be back at work. Don’t get him wrong, he loves having time off. He especially loves having time off with Jensen. But with the writers’ strike and not knowing for the longest time whether there even would be a fourth season... Well, he’s just awful glad to be back, that’s all.
They’ve got some interesting challenges lined up for this year as well, not that they know half of it, or even that. Kripke likes to keep his plans close to his chest. Shocking his actors as much as the audience. The sadistic little gnome. Jared loves him but the man has some strange ideas of what constitutes as fun.
Dealing with Sam’s guilt of having Dean sell his soul for him? Not fun. Playing Sam falling deeper and deeper into despair as Dean’s final day on Earth crept closer? Not fun. Crying over his brother’s ripped-apart corpse? Not fun!
Especially not since he had to balance it with Jensen’s own apprehensions and listen to regular infodumps about various religions’ ideas of Hell and what kind of torture awaited Dean down there. It gave them both nightmares, but Jensen just couldn’t let it go. Still can’t, even if Jared asked him to please stop talking about it, sometime midseason. Like Jared, Jensen had been brought up in a religious household, and, even if he claims to have outgrown it, some of the doctrine clearly still lingers. Jared suspects Dean’s false bravado awaiting Hell was as much Jensen’s, and that he hadn’t had to dig very deep to bring out Dean’s real fear. Even if he kept insisting he was fine, and got irritated when Jared kept checking on him.
But that’s all behind them now, thank God. Eric won’t tell them exactly what Dean had to endure in Hell; possibly because he’d noticed Jensen’s discomfort, more likely because he wants to drop a bombshell on them when they least expect it. Seriously, sadistic gnome.
They’re only in their second week, but so far things are going well, even if Jensen seems unusually high-strung. Not surprising maybe, considering all he’s been put through, right off the bat.
Reading the script for the season premiere, Jared wanted to call Eric and ask what the hell he’d been thinking. Jensen kept insisting it was fine, it was no problem, he could do it, but Jared couldn’t help but worry. Jensen can get really claustrophobic when constrained, which is a bitch as the bad guys just love using Dean to explore their bondage fetish. This was so much worse. And seriously, crawling out of their own grave would freak anyone out.
After they yelled for the cameras to roll Jared had held his breath while counting the seconds. He swears to God, one more and he would have run over and dug Jensen out himself. Seeing Jensen’s hand finally shoot out of the artificial dirt kicked Jared in the heart with so much adrenaline, he’d felt faint.
Jensen claimed he was fine, although he’d been pale and quiet. Honestly, Jared thinks he’s a goddamn superhero for not losing his shit in that damn box.
Apart from a few cuts from the windows in the gas station exploding all over Dean (Jared had been livid! “What the fuck do you mean you used real glass??”), Jensen got away from the ordeal of Dean returning from Hell seemingly unscathed. Jared actually thought it had been more stressful for him than Jensen.
Which shows how good Jensen is at compartmentalizing because the minute they declared it a wrap for the day, he’d walked straight to the car Dean was supposed to steal – still covered in dirt and fake blood, with pieces of glass clinging to his hair and clothes – got in, locked the door and put his face in his hands. Jared ended up borrowing the car to drive Jensen home, still in costume and smelling like chocolate and sour sweat, after trying for almost an hour to coax him out of there. Jared isn’t sure what pushed him over the edge: being shut in a coffin, having to dig himself out of a grave, or being bombarded with exploding glass. Probably all three.
“Next time, how about we start with the hugging scenes before we bury him alive?” Jared had told Kripke, who’d just looked at him confused and said, “Jensen hates hugs.” Which, okay. But still!
“I don’t hate hugs,” Jensen had objected when Jared told him. “I give great hugs.”
He does. For about five seconds, which Jared knows he is counting in his head. Jared once tried to explain to him the science of twenty second hugs and oxytocin, but Jensen had just frowned and instead hugged Jared tighter to compromise. Which was awesome but Jared wouldn’t mind it for fifteen more seconds. At least he gets to enjoy Dean’s prolonged hugs since apparently he doesn’t have the same problem. Even if they’re in character, it’s still Jensen’s arms holding him.
Not that the brothers hug that often but when they do, it always feels special. Which is why Jared was a bit disappointed that they had to do their reunion hug with Bobby and new Ruby in the room, as that put a bit of a damper on it. Jensen is always very conscious of Dean holding back his emotions in company, especially if they’re strangers. It would have been different if it had just been Bobby, he feels as much as a second father to Sam and Dean as Jim Beaver does to Jensen and Jared. But with the added presence of new Ruby, Jensen was clearly reining in Dean’s emotions, despite the circumstances. Still hugged Jared hard enough that the air umph-ed out of his lungs.
She is to become a regular, this new Ruby, which means Genevieve, the actress, had been let in on Jensen’s special circumstances. Jensen doesn’t like it, he says she looks at him funny. “She smiles at me like she’s proud of me for doing my goddamn job,” he’d told Jared after they’d wrapped up the reunion scene. “Like I’m a child.”
Jared didn’t know what to say. Jensen is right, but Jared isn’t sure talking to her will help. It’s like with the crew their first season. Sometimes people just need to be proven wrong to realize they’re being stupid.
It doesn’t help that she keeps hitting on Jared. Like, not subtly at all. It wouldn’t really bother him if Jensen wasn’t so clearly disturbed by it. He doesn’t say anything, but he gets really tense every time she’s in the room and he stays so close to Jared that he might as well climb into his lap. By now most of the more trusted cast and crew know Jensen and Jared’s situation, and if this continues she’ll probably buy a clue soon enough. It makes Jared uneasy. They don’t really know her yet.
She’s not the only new addition. And frankly Jared would rather deal with her misguided attention than whatever the new guy, Misha something, has got going on. He’s friendly, sure, but he’s also new age-y and kinda weird. Keeps mostly to himself and mutters under his breath a lot, possibly rehearsing his lines. If Jared didn’t know better, he would suspect him of smoking up in his trailer. (Jared might have sniffed him, jokingly, but really, he’d been slightly concerned.)
Maybe it’s just part of his work process in playing Castiel, an angel. Which apparently are real now. When they got told Jared had wanted to remind Eric of his own rule regarding the existence of angels. It's one thing killing demons and sending people to Hell, it’s a whole other thing adding angels and, by proxy, God and Heaven. He’s not sure why, it just makes him uncomfortable.
Anyway, this season’s arc, as much as Kripke will tell them, features Sam being seduced – literally, judging by Jared’s first scene – by Hell’s demon, aka new Ruby; while Dean will be Heaven’s favorite marionette via Castiel, the new guy.
“Sam is going evil?” Jared had asked, uneasy. He’d felt Jensen shift beside him, and then his knee started bouncing like crazy.
Eric had grinned and refused to say anything. It was infuriating. It wasn’t until Jared pointed out that if he was going evil, he might want to subtly and gradually add that to his performance, that Eric relented and offered, “Whatever happens, just remember, Sam fully believes that he is doing the right thing.”
Okay. Still makes Jared apprehensive about how far they will let Sam go. What exactly does ‘tension between the brothers’ mean? Frankly, Jared thinks they’ve had enough tension between them these last three seasons to last the rest of the series, however long that is. Two more years at least, he hopes.
“Not like this,” Eric had said and honest to God cackled, rubbing his hands in glee.
So yeah, Ruby is Sam’s new comrade in arms while Castiel is Dean’s. Which means Misha will be doing a lot of scenes with Jensen, just the two of them. The guy seems pretty easygoing, despite his eccentric manner. Happy to be there, eager to please, very serious about his character, according to Jim. Jared hasn’t had the opportunity to observe for himself. He and Jensen usually keep each other company when working on scenes just featuring one of them, but he’d been called to wardrobe for some extra fittings – apparently, he’d filled out more during the summer hiatus than they’d accounted for – just as Jensen was heading to set for Castiel’s first appearance. Which Eric had described as ‘really cool’ and is supposed to look even more impressive once they’ve added wings with CGI. Jared’s not sure how wings can make anyone look cool and not like a weird man-swan hybrid, but Eric told him to trust them and well, he mostly does.
He’d expected to hear all about Castiel’s grand entrance from Jensen once they got home. But, as Jared was heading back to his trailer, Kim had called him and asked if he was free to come pick Jensen up. Seems he’d sunken down on his haunches as soon as they called it a day, hid his face in his hands and was not responding to anyone. Kim’s obvious worry made Jared’s heart speed up, but by the time he got there Jensen was more or less himself again, except snippy and short tempered, the way he gets when he’s embarrassed. He hates losing his cool in front of people.
Jared never found out exactly what caused his shutdown. Jensen wouldn’t say, even when Jared pushed for more details. Just insisted he was fine, fine, fine! Even as he kept rubbing his eyes until Jared covered them softly with his hand to give them a rest. Jim couldn’t provide any hints; from where he’d been lying ‘unconscious’ on the floor, things seemed fine. But when Jared called Kim, he’d gone quiet then said maybe Jared should stay close next time Jensen and Misha did a scene together.
“No, the guy’s good,” Kim had hurried to add when Jared asked what the fuck he’d done! “There was no confrontation, nothing like that. But I’m looking at the dailies and… He’s made some interesting character choices.” Then Kim had excused himself and hung up before Jared could ask him to explain further.
Now Jared realizes he should have asked to see those dailies.
He is standing to the side, watching them shoot a scene in Bobby’s kitchen with Dean and Castiel talking. Well, Castiel is talking, voice oddly deep and gravelly, while Jensen – not Dean – is growing steadfastly more anxious. It’s so obvious that it’s not a character choice, that Jensen is actually on the brink of freaking out, that Jared is amazed no one else is picking up on it.
Castiel moves closer, gradually becoming more threatening, while Dean is trying his best to stand his ground. Jared has a pretty good view of one of the split camera screens and okay, wow, Misha’s gaze is really intense. Plus he keeps tilting his head, angling it as if… Okay, this is what Kim was talking about.
Dean is supposed to be intimidated, this is a real angel he is talking to after all, and more importantly, someone who could, if he wanted, send Dean hurtling back to Hell. So, Dean trying to avert his eyes makes sense. Him breathing a little faster is understandable as well. Hands twitching nervously, yes.
But it’s not in character for Dean to squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head and… Shit, yeah, he’s leaving.
Phil yells, “Cut!” as Jared hurriedly slinks between the jungle of crew and equipment, ignoring one of the lighting guy’s mutter of, “Here we go again,” and Misha’s bewildered, “Where is he going?” From what Jared can tell from Jensen’s retreating back he is furious, most likely with himself. He hates causing disruption in their schedule, never mind that it’s in his contract that he can take breaks if he needs to.
Jared takes it as a good sign that while Jensen does slam the trailer door shut behind him there’s no sound of the lock sliding in place. Taking a deep breath Jared knocks their usual ‘shave and a haircut’. He hears Jensen knock ‘two bits’ somewhere inside. So, responding but too upset for words. Jared opens the door and steps inside, closing and locking the door behind him.
Jensen is sitting in the small space between the couch and the wall, eyes squeezed shut, rocking back and forth. He’s clutching his knees and making deep throaty noises, mouth shut tight. Like he wants to scream but is trying to be quiet.
Jared walks over and sits down at the end of the couch, as close as he can get, putting his hand briefly but firmly on Jensen’s shoulder, just to let him know he’s there, before letting him be. He’s been very sensitive to touch lately, probably because he’s still having trouble sleeping. Jared is not sure why. He’s not even sure Jensen knows why. It’s like the start-of-the-season jitters just refuse to let go of him.
Jared leans back and closes his eyes, using the opportunity to take a few moments to rest. It’s only the second episode and he swears he’s exhausted already.
“Fuck,” Jensen hisses and Jared opens his eyes to look at him. He’s still got his eyes squeezed shut but he’s massaging his temples, right by the corners of his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“It was the staring, right?” Jared guesses.
Jensen blows out his breath. “Yes. He keeps moving his head,” he says, voice high-pitched in frustration, “trying to stare into my eyes.” He rubs his eyes with his fists. “Always hated it. Always hurt.”
Jared frowns. That sounds specific. “When?”
“School. After school. All the time. Fucking therapists. My parents wanted them to fix me.” Jensen grits his teeth. “To keep eye contact and be quiet and stay still.” His hands shoot out, like they’re spasming, but he quickly grips his knees again, knuckles turning white. “To not be me.”
Jared reaches over and carefully loosens Jensen’s iron grip on his knees. “You don’t need to do that with me,” he reminds him, smiling softly when Jensen starts patting the sides of his thighs instead, fast but steady.
He tries to imagine what it must have been like, being constantly told to fight his instincts and instead follow rules that made no sense and only made him anxious. To do things that were physically painful, just to seem ‘normal’, like everyone else. As if Jensen could ever be like everyone else. He is uniquely himself.
“Why didn’t you just tell Misha to back off?” Jared asks. Jensen isn’t confrontational by nature, but he doesn’t usually shy away from pointing out acting choices he disagrees with.
Jensen shakes his head. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t talk. I’m not good.” He huffs out a shaky breath. “I’m not good, Jared. I have to stay focused. I have to stay focused, or I can’t do my job.”
Jared’s stomach twists. He'd noticed Jensen was having a hard time. He’d just thought he was tired. He hadn’t realized it was this bad. “I can talk to Misha if you want,” he offers.
Jensen breathes out. “Thank you. Yes. He’s weird.” He barks a laugh and Jared smiles. Usually, Jensen is the one worried about coming across as weird.
“He is weird. I’ll talk to him. He knows, right?” Jared asks, just to be sure. As an intended regular, he should have been told. Unless he was just made to sign the non-disclosure agreement, and no one bothered explaining why.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Jensen murmurs. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut.
“Is it okay if I tell him? I can figure something else out if you’d rather,” Jared says, although he has no idea what that would be.
Jensen shakes his head. “It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s–”
He slams the heel of his hand rapidly into his temple – bam-bam-bam! – making Jared flinch. He hates when Jensen hurts himself but sometimes it’s like he needs to physically hit the reset button when he’s spinning out of control. Jared should be used to it by now, but it never stops being disturbing.
Jensen presses the heel of his hand against his forehead, breathing harshly. “Yes. Tell him.”
“Okay. You just stay here. Want me to turn off the lights?”
Jensen nods. Jared stands up, reaching down to rest his hand briefly on Jensen’s knee. Jensen grabs his hand, squeezing it tight for a moment before letting go.
“Okay?”
“Okay. Yes. Fine.”
“Alright. I’ll let them know you’re taking twenty. Want me to come get you?”
“I have to know what he says,” Jensen huffs, like Jared’s being stupid. Which is fair.
“Okay. Don’t worry about the time, just do your thing. I’ll be back.”
He hears Jensen echo, “I’ll be back,” in a clear imitation of Terminator’s voice, just as the door closes. Jared’s lips tug up into a grin. Such a dork.
The set is pretty much as he left it, everyone is just waiting for Jensen to come back or to be told this is it for the day. That doesn’t happen often but after over three years of working with more or less the same crew, they know the drill.
Jared walks over to Phil and tells him, “He’s taking twenty,” bracing himself when Phil groans.
“It was the staring, wasn’t it?” Phil sighs, echoing Jared’s own question almost verbatim. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it looks great. But hell, it creeps me out. I’m not surprised Jensen needed a breather. Especially after what happened last week.”
“Uhm, yeah,” Jared says, again wishing he’d checked the dailies from the week before. Phil’s sympathy shouldn’t take him by surprise, but sometimes he forgets he’s not the only one who read up on stuff after starting this gig. This is Phil’s ninth episode directing. He’s no Kim Manners but he’s still damn good, and he has a pretty firm understanding of how Jensen works. “I’m gonna go talk to Misha. Is that alright?”
“Better you than me,” Phil says, which is a bit discouraging, considering he’s the director. “No, I mean, you’re much better at explaining that stuff. Is Ackles alright?” he asks as an afterthought, which should annoy Jared more, but better late than never.
“He’ll be fine,” Jared says, then adds after a moment’s hesitation. “Think it brought back some bad memories,” to make sure Phil knows it’s more than a case of simple discomfort.
“Shit.” Phil rubs a hand over his face. “Okay. We’ll work something out with the cameras on the closer scenes. I’ll talk it over with Misha, after you explain things.”
Jared nods and goes to find Misha. He’s sitting slumped on one of the chairs in Bobby’s kitchen, absently studying his tie. As soon as he notices Jared approaching, he jumps up, looking worried but mostly confused. “Is he alright? I don’t know what happened. No one will tell me anything, they just say I should talk to you.”
“He’s fine,” Jared says to cut off the word flow. Misha sags in relief. “C’mon, we’ve got a few minutes. We should talk.”
He suggests Misha’s trailer, in case Jensen wants to go lie down in Jared’s. (For some reason Jensen thinks Jared’s couch is better than his, even if Jared keeps telling him they’re exactly the same.) Once there, Misha fetches a water bottle from the small fridge and offers Jared one as well, before sinking down on the not-nearly-as-nice couch, Jared notices.
“So, what the hell did I do?”
Jared twists the bottle open and takes a sip while he ponders how to put it. He wonders why Misha wasn’t told. Genevieve clearly knows. Or at least Jensen seems to think she does. Now Jared thinks about it, it’s quite possible she just noticed he was a bit different, since she’s been hanging around more.
“Did you sign a non-disclosure agreement?” he asks, even if he knows Misha did. Everyone has to.
Misha nods. “I figured it was about you two,” he says, and Jared almost drops his bottle. “Oh. It wasn’t?”
Jared hesitates. But what the hell, he might as well. If Misha is set to stay for the season, possibly longer, he’ll find out soon enough anyway. “No, but you’re right. We’re together.”
Misha just nods, like it doesn’t surprise him in the least. Makes Jared wonder just how obvious they are.
“But we’re not out, except to a few, so keep that to yourself.”
“Yeah, of course.” Misha shoots him a sympathetic smile.
“The agreement though… That one is about Jensen.” Jared breathes in. “He’s autistic.”
Misha blinks and then he leans back as if a light bulb just went off over his head. “Oh, that makes so much sense.”
Jared frowns. “Okay?”
“No, I just mean…” Misha hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words, then just shakes his head, looking awkward. “Nothing. It just fits.”
Jared smiles tightly. “Right. Well, I trust it’s not a problem.”
“No! Of course not. I’m just… Wow.” Misha shakes his head. “I’ve seen pretty much everything he’s been in – Well, not Days of Our Lives. Not a soap opera fan.”
That sounds disturbingly like stalking. Even if, okay, Jared did the same thing when he was auditioning for the role of Sam.
“I just mean, I never would have guessed. Damn, he’s good.”
“Yeah, he is,” Jared agrees with a proud smile before turning serious again. “He’s an amazing actor. But he has his own methods to make it work and they need to be respected.”
“Yeah, no, of course,” Misha says, nodding enthusiastically.
“And some things are more of a challenge.” Jared takes a sip before pointing the bottle at Misha. “Like eye contact.”
Misha nods. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that.”
Jared looks at him patiently. It takes a moment but then…
Misha’s eyes widen. “Oh shit.” He groans, dropping his head into his hand. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“If you didn’t know, you didn’t know,” Jared says. He doesn’t have the time or energy to be someone else’s emotional support. “Look, that thing you’re doing, it works for the character. Creepy as hell, man. But we need to make it work for Jensen. He’s good at faking eye contact but you’ve got to stop trying to force it on him.”
“Shit. Yeah, of course.” Misha nods, still looking slightly dazed as he looks up at Jared. His eyes are clear blue and oddly piercing. Even Jared is having trouble looking straight at them. He can only imagine how intimidating it was to have those eyes glaring at him in divine fury. No wonder Jensen bailed.
“It’s why he had to take a break,” he says bluntly. “That’s in his contract, by the way, in case anyone starts making trouble.”
It happens. New directors, guest actors… Strangers who thinks they can run the set their way and not the Supernatural way. Which might be different, but it works for them and frankly, fuck whoever can’t respect that.
“Because here’s the thing,” Jared says, and suddenly he’s in that park with Danneel and Jensen, almost four years ago, being let in on the secret. “You and Jensen are gonna be doing a lot of scenes together, just the two of you. And I might not always be there. Not to keep an eye on him, I’m not his nanny,” he adds quickly, before Misha starts getting any ideas. “Long as everyone does their part, he’s good. Anyone starts making trouble, or things go sideways, I like to be there to step in, if needed.”
“Ah. Right. Like now.”
“Like now. But if I’m not there, I need to know that I can trust you to not be an asshole. And to back him up if he needs it.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Misha stares at him, brow furrowed. Jared wonders if he’s aware of how intense it is. Maybe it’s not as much a part of Castiel’s character as it’s just Misha. Staring.
“I feel like shit,” Misha suddenly says, grimacing. “I thought he was just in character, playing the fearful human facing the divine. I didn’t realize I was bullying him.”
“It’s not bullying if it’s not on purpose,” Jared says, although that’s not strictly true. Some people are too mean to even wonder if their actions hurt anyone. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Because it does,” he stresses. “The whole eye contact thing. It physically hurts him.”
“Yeah, no, I’ve read about that. Weird. The human brain, not Jensen,” Misha clarifies quickly when Jared frowns. “So much we still don’t know about it. Okay, what else?”
“I don’t have a guidebook,” Jared says, feeling slightly annoyed, possibly at himself for not being better prepared.
“No, of course not. Just, some pointers would be enormous help. So I don’t put my foot in it again. Like you said, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. I’d hate for him to hate me.”
“Uhm…” Jared tries to think – quickly, because time is passing, and he has to go get Jensen in just a few minutes. “Okay. When he’s doing a scene, even if the cameras aren’t rolling, he’s Dean so don’t call him Jensen.”
Jensen’s gotten more chill about that, but it still clearly annoys him when people pull him off script.
“Off set, no problem; on set, waiting to go, leave him be. He needs to concentrate and switching between himself and Dean all the time is exhausting. And talking about exhaustion, our hours tend to run really long. You’ll see. If he gets too tired, or stressed because of mistakes, or too many retakes, he can lose his temper.”
He doesn’t say ‘have a meltdown’, people tend to react unfavorably to the word. Like he’s calling Jensen an immature toddler and not just explaining what’s happening.
“It doesn’t mean he’s being difficult; it means he's overwhelmed and needs a breather. Long hours, bad weather – which we get plenty of – all the bright lights and loud noises. People touching him, especially casual touches. The fights are better for some reason. It can all overload his senses. He’s still the best goddamn actor you’ll ever work with,” Jared says as Misha is starting to look wary.
“Don’t doubt that at all,” Misha says quickly. “Does he know you’re talking to me?” he asks as Jared stands up.
Jared frowns. “Of course. I wouldn’t go behind his back.”
“Right. Sorry. Still processing. Like I said, don’t want to put my foot in my mouth.”
He will. Most people do. Even after almost four years, Jared still says and does stupid things without meaning to. “Just don’t be an asshole and you should be fine.”
Misha nods. He still looks more concerned than comforted when Jared leaves him.
Jensen’s trailer is still dark but when Jared knocks on the door, Jensen calls for him to come in.
“Turning on the light,” Jared warns before flipping the switch.
Jensen is lying on his back on the couch, one arm shielding his eyes. He looks calmer, even if his breathing seems more regulated than relaxed. “So?” he asks as the fingers on his free hand start tapping his thigh.
Jared sits down on the edge of the couch, laying a firm hand on Jensen’s stomach. He usually likes that. Jensen’s stomach muscles do a small jump before they soften, sinking under Jared’s palm.
“He was cool. Apologized for bullying you.”
Jensen’s arm slips up over his head, messing up Dean’s carefully spiked hair. He blinks against the light, eyes squinting a little. “Wasn’t bullying. Just… uncomfortable.”
“A bit more than uncomfortable,” Jared says gently.
Jensen’s mouth twists downwards but he doesn’t argue. “His character has a weird voice,” he says after a moment.
Jared chuckles. “Yeah. Not sure what that is about. He’s probably gonna regret it. His throat will get real tired.”
“Real tired. Real tired.” Jensen hums. “Weird voice, weird eyes. Intimidating.”
Jared nods. “Dean did look very intimidated.”
Jensen breathes out. “Yes. Dean,” he emphasizes. “Not me. Dean.”
“Okay,” Jared allows.
“I wasn’t intimidated,” Jensen says, sounding peeved. “Just uncomfortable. A bit more than uncomfortable,” he admits when Jared looks at him. “But not intimidated.”
“Okay,” Jared agrees, “but maybe a bit distressed.”
Jensen frowns, thinking it over, then nods. “Yes. Like something was crawling in my chest. A crab. Or four.”
“Ugh.” Jared shudders. “That sounds almost as bad as spiders.”
Jensen gives him a look, like he’s an idiot. “Worse. Crabs take up a lot more space.”
Jared wags his head. “We-ell, that depends on the crabs. And the spiders. Australia has some huge-ass spiders.”
“We are not in Australia,” Jensen points out, but he looks annoyed, the way he always does when he realizes he hasn’t thought something through and is most likely wrong. It’s adorable. “We need to get back on set,” he says quickly when Jared opens his mouth to argue for the existence of tiny crabs.
Jared grins. He can always tease Jensen about it later. At which time he’ll probably have read up on all there is to know about every known crustacean on the planet and will talk Jared’s ear off about them.
Before he lets Jensen get to the door, Jared catches him lightly by the wrist and pulls him in for a kiss. Jensen comes along easily, even if he keeps the kiss short and his mouth closed.
“I didn’t know spiders got you hot,” he says when Jared lets him go.
Jared laughs even if his skin crawls at the thought. “You get me hot,” he says, pushing all thoughts of spiders – and crabs – out of his mind. “We’re having sex tonight, just so you know.”
“I do know,” Jensen says, opening the door and stepping out. “It’s Friday.”
Jared laughs. It’s not a chore, but it has become a sort of tradition. “Even if it hadn’t been Friday,” he says, closing the trailer door behind them. Jensen is already halfway across the lot, but Jared’s legs are longer, and he soon catches up.
“Okay,” Jensen agrees easily. He frowns. “Why?”
“Well, obviously I need to reclaim my territory,” Jared says dramatically.
Jensen slows down. He looks confused. “From whom?”
“Everyone, now Dean’s showed off your luscious abs to half the world. And a shoulder!” Jared gasps, scandalized.
Jensen smiles like Jared is the cutest dumbass he’s ever met. It always makes Jared’s stomach swoop. “Not half the world. Our viewer numbers barely reach three million. And they haven’t even aired the episode yet,” Jensen points out.
“But they will! Three million people will see your cute tummy.”
“Cute tummy,” Jensen echoes with a soft chuckle. “What about Sam? He strutted around half-naked, with Ruby in her underwear.”
“What do you mean half-naked?” Jared protests. “He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt!”
“According to the fangirls, that counts as half-naked,” Jensen says, smirking.
True. “Well, I wasn’t strutting. That was my mating dance, welcoming Dean back,” Jared says and grins when Jensen snorts out a laugh. “I wanted to add feathers, but wardrobe said no.”
“I’ll buy you a boa,” Jensen says, smiling at him. His hand slips into Jared’s and gives it a quick squeeze. Then they’re back on set, and his hand is gone, before Jared can return the favor.
Misha is standing in place, looking slightly nervous as Jensen walks over. Jared keeps back, but still close enough that he hears Jensen say, “I’ll be looking at the spot between your eyes. Do you understand?”
Misha nods but when he opens his mouth, probably to apologize, Jensen lifts his hand and says, “And now I’m Dean,” and Misha’s mouth instantly snaps shut.
Jared grins. He’ll do fine.
He gets out of the way as everyone gets ready, giving Phil a thumbs up when he looks at him in question. Phil nods and within minutes – after Jensen gets a bit of touch up on his make-up and his hair fixed – they’re on, like the well-oiled machine they are.
It’s the last scene of the week, they already shot the one that comes after. They’ll probably have to come back tomorrow for voiceover work and possibly some reshoots, Jared hasn’t checked their schedules yet. But the always-too-short weekend is looming on the horizon and he for one can’t wait to sleep in. Maybe he’ll be able to lure Jensen back to bed, after he’s had his breakfast. God knows he needs the sleep. And some hot sex to get rid of some of that tension.
“What was that all about?” says a voice as a slim hand slips into the crook of his elbow. “I heard Jensen was being a diva.”
He takes a deep breath before freeing himself from Genevieve’s grasp. “Who told you that?” he asks, keeping his voice low but stern.
She looks a little taken aback. “Oh, uh… Someone just said he ran off.”
“He took a short break,” Jared says tightly. “He’s not a diva. Don’t use that word.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean…” Her voice falters and she looks a little unsure for a moment but then she smiles. “You are so patient with him.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that he’s… you know. Special.” She smiles again and it’s so condescendingly sweet Jared wants to yell at her to fuck off. Instead, he slows his breathing and gives her a patient look.
“He is special. He’s amazing. Genevieve, have you watched any of our previous seasons?” She shakes her head, looking puzzled. “Have you watched anything else Jensen’s been in?” She shakes her head again. “Okay, how about you do that and then we’ll talk.”
He turns back to watching Dean and Castiel confrontation. This time Dean has his side turned towards Castiel and although Jensen’s eyes are shooting nervous glances at Misha and away again, it’s pure Dean. When Castiel leans in to threaten him, Dean stands his ground without flinching. Only when they yell cut does Jensen look away, but he still stays put, probably because Misha instantly takes a big step back, giving him extra breathing room.
Jared watches as they do another take, then a third, by which time the fingers on Jensen’s right hand have started to rub together, out of shot. When Phil finally yells that it’s a wrap, Jensen quickly turns his back on Misha and covers his eyes with one hand while the other clutches the kitchen counter, knuckles white. Misha stands awkwardly by, looking like he wants to say something, he just doesn’t know what.
Jared starts making his way across, too late remembering Genevieve, but when he looks back, she’s gone, possibly some time ago. He wasn’t really paying attention. He nods to Misha before sliding over to Jensen and resting a hand on his shoulders.
“I’m good,” Jensen says immediately. “I’m fine.” He doesn’t sound completely fine but still far better than he was earlier.
“Okay. You ready to leave?”
“Yes. No, wait.” Jensen turns around, giving Misha one of his trademark smiles, meant for the fans and red carpets. Practiced and professional, despite the exhaustion behind his eyes. “That was good,” he says. “Much better.”
He probably doesn’t mean to sound condescending but is just too tired to check his tone of voice. From what Jared gathers, when Jensen’s not acting, he has no concept of what he sounds like.
“Oh, good,” Misha says, relieved. “It felt better.”
“If this will be Castiel’s preferred manner of communicating, you should invest in some breath mints. Helps keep you fresh.” Jensen gives a now clearly mortified Misha another polite smile before turning around and heading for his trailer.
Jared snorts and pats Misha on the shoulder. “Welcome to Supernatural, buddy. Hope you like brutal honesty.”
“Uhm, yeah. Thanks.” Misha stares after Jensen who is disappearing fast, not bothering to wait for Jared since they’re both just going to their respective trailers to change and shower. “So, was he just being nice about it being good or…?”
Jared chuckles. “Jensen doesn’t do nice. I mean, he is nice, but he won’t blow smoke up your ass if he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t lie,” he clarifies when Misha still looks unsure. “So, take the compliment. He doesn’t give that many. Not because he’s not nice, but because it honestly won’t occur to him that you need them.” He doesn’t add he learned that the hard way.
He leaves Misha looking slightly less worried, and heads for his own trailer to take a quick shower. In all likelihood Jensen will be done and dressed and sitting in Jared’s trailer, waiting for him to finish before he’s even washed his hair. But that is what the nice couch is for.