Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
Entry tags:	fandom: supernatural rps, fic pairing: jared/jensen, fiction

Long Time Coming Chapter 9/25
Title: Long Time Coming
Genre: Angst/romance/drama
Pairings: Jared/Jensen, some Jared/Sandy
Warnings: Language, possible smut, hard drug use!
Disclaimer: Ye...yea...nope don't own them.  I am not insinuating Chris and Steve are drug peddlers either, it is merely for this fic that they are supplying Jensen so I can create angsty situations which lead to manschmexin.
Rating: 15
Summary: Jensen can't handle being around Jared anymore, not when his feelings are so strong.  So when hiatus starts and Jared notices Jensen drawing away and acting strange can he find out what's happening in time to save him?

A/N - My amazing beta realscape  gets loadsa huggage

1~2~3~4~5~6~7~8~9~10~11~12~13~14~15~16~17~18~19~20~21~22~23~24~Epilogue~Soundtrack

Jensen woke up from a broken sleep, plagued by dreams of fists and whispered threats, covered in sweat and shivering under the heavy blankets.  He groaned and rolled over, his stomach churning uncomfortably as overwhelming desire racked his body.

Just what he needed.

He groped blindly in the dark of his room for his phone and dialled Steve’s number.  He picked up on the third ring with a jovial, “Jensen!”

“Hey Steve, where you at?”

“I’m at our place, practising for the upcoming tour, dude!”  Jensen could hear Chris whooping in the background and couldn’t help the grin that slid onto his face.  Then their words sank in, and he froze.

“What did you say?”

Steve sounded confused, “I said we’re practising…for the tour?”

“You’re going on tour?”  Jensen asked, suddenly breathless.

“Yeah, man you knew this!  We told you weeks ago,” Steve replied.

Jensen felt like shouting and hitting something really hard, but his arms still ached every time he moved them, and his knuckles were raw from punching the guy who’d attacked him.

“I don’t think you did,” He replied, his tone accusing and hurt, “Look man, I need to talk to you.”

And something in his voice must have sunk through, because the background noise on the other end of the phone faded, and there was the sound of a door shutting, “You need more?”

Jensen paused, just as he was opening his mouth to speak, and he considered the question instead.  The need was pulsing through him, strong and hot, and yes he wanted more, but he couldn’t…he was risking his career, he was risking Jared.

“Yeah, I want more,” Were the words that spilt out of his mouth, even as his brain was screaming at him ‘you’re doing the wrong thing’, his body was shaking in anticipation of the pleasure, the sweet oblivion to come, “How do I get it if you’re gonna be away?”

“I’ll give you a number,” Steve said, almost hesitantly, and then added, “Jensen, you’re not…you’re gonna stop this…before hiatus is over right?”

And white hot anger flared up inside of him right then, at the insolence Steve had, to fucking ask him that, “How the fuck do you expect me to do that, then?  You’re the one who fucking gave me this stuff…you’re the one who fucking got me beaten up by some freaking drug cronies…”

He trailed off, flinching at the shocked silence emanating through the phone, “What happened Jen?”  Steve’s voice was gentle, soft, and Jensen just wanted to go back to before all this shit started, because every time he stuck the needle in his arm now, the feeling of guilt and of fear grew that tiny bit stronger.

“It was the dealer you told me about, I found him at a club, I thought…I thought he was okay, man. You told me about him.  Then he sent guys after me, threatened to tell…tell Jared, and he asked for too much money, said you owed him.  Fuck Steve, I think I’m in trouble here,” Jensen spoke quietly into the phone, eyes trained on the floor, even though he knew there was no one in his apartment, judging him.

For a few seconds all he could hear was Steve’s breathing, and then, “I’m sorry Jen, you shouldn’t have gone to him.  If you’d asked…”  His voice cracked with some indefinable emotion, “Oh god Jen, I’m so sorry.  What have I done?  He…he’s not a good man, he’s fucking scary. I never wanted you to go near him.  I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

Jensen shook his head, wanting to forget it had ever happened…and he knew one way to do that, a sure thing, “Just give me a number…a number I can call safely.”

And Steve did that, his voice shaking slightly with guilt, or worry, as he read out the digits, but Jensen didn’t care.  He didn’t blame Steve, not fully, he knew any time he had gone near the needle, he’d always had the option of saying no.  But he hadn’t said it.

“Have a good tour Steve; I’ll see you when you get back.”

~**~

Jared slammed the door of his car shut, finding himself once again outside the house where the only two people who knew what was going on with Jensen lived.

Sandy’s words echoed through his head, but he shook them away.  There was no such thing as caring too much about your best friend, Jensen meant more to him than he’d like to admit, and he needed to know what was going on with him.

He raised his fist to knock on the front door and stepped back waiting for someone to answer it.  No footsteps came trudging to the door though and he frowned, confused, definitely sure he had seen movement in the front room as he’d walked across the road.

He cautiously turned to knob on the door, only a little surprised when it readily gave way beneath his hand. He opened the door slowly, peering into the dark shadows of the hallway, “Steve?  Chris?  Is anyone here?”

A sudden clatter from the front room, and what sounded like muffled cursing, reached his ears, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, “It’s just Jared, I wanna talk.”

He blinked, his heart pounding unsteadily as someone stepped into the hallway, but then they flicked on the light switch revealing that it was Chris.

“Hey Jared!  What are you doing here?”  He carefully closed the door to the front room behind him, blocking whatever was going on in there from Jared’s view.

“I need to talk to you about Jensen; I know what you said before Chris.  But he’s my best friend, okay?  And nothing’s gonna stop the fact that I want to help him!”

Chris nervously scratched at his arm, drawing Jared’s attention to where the sleeve was rolled up and dark marks littered the bare expanse of flesh, some emitting fresh dewy balls of blood. Jared’s intake of breath was loud in the silence of the hallway.

“Chris, man, you alright?  Your arm…”  He gestured at said arm, surprised when Chris hastily shoved down the sleeve, swearing softly under his breath.

“It’s nothing, I…”  His voice cracked slightly, and Jared noticed how he was swaying slightly on his feet, and that beads of sweat were rolling down the sides of his face.  Jared’s stomach twisted and rolled inside of him, and dark fear consumed him.

He strode forward, getting right into Chris’s personal space and using his height to his advantage. He loomed over him, before grabbing his arm and rolling the sleeve back up again, ignoring Chris’s struggling.

“What the fuck are you doing Jared?”

But he’d seen enough. He knew what those marks were, and anger bubbled up inside of him, hot and dark, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Chris?  Are you fucking serious?” 

Chris flinched at the icy quality of Jared’s normally so jovial voice and drew away from him, drawing his arm back, “It’s not what you think Jared…it’s…me an’…just…”

Jared stared at him in disbelief, his breathing shallow with anger, “Is this why Jen’s been weird lately, ‘cause he’s fucking worried about you or something?”

Chris was staring at him with wide eyes, and Jared clenched his fists, waiting for his reply.  Chris just stood there his mouth open, but no words would come.  Then Jared pushed past him and, without asking, barged into the room Chris had been so keen on him not seeing.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Steve stretched out on the floor, the area around him littered with tin foil and string and needles and, oh Christ. 

“Heeey Jay,” Steve waved lazily at him, and Jared could do nothing but stare, as some forlorn fear grew and invaded his brain.

He turned back to Chris, his anger shut beneath restraints, simmering beneath the surface, burning in his subconscious.

“How the fuck could you do this, Chris?  You better tell me right fucking now what’s going on with Jensen, because for all I know you’ve gotten him…mixed up in…shit, what were you thinking?  This is fucking serious Chris…it’s not like smoking a joint in the back garden or something!”

Chris was looking at him with a sad expression on his face, and Jared couldn’t help the words that just kept pouring out, from weeks of Jensen acting strangely, and his curiosity being piqued, and now he’d found out about this?

The fear that had bloomed inside him grew, as his brain made connections that just couldn’t be possible. 

“I’m sorry Jared, but it’s really…none of your business,” Chris said in a broken voice, his point clear.  Stay the fuck out.

Jared backed slowly out of the door, his head swimming with confusion, and he slumped down on the front step of their house, surprised when he felt wetness on his cheeks.  And he had no idea whether the tears were from anger, or fear, or sorrow, because that possibility just couldn’t be.

Because Jensen wouldn’t do that.  Would he?
 

 
 ‘If it can be broke then it can be fixed, if it can be fused then it can be split
It's all under control
If it can be lost then it can be won, if it can be touched then it can be turned
All you need is time’

-          Bloc Party ‘Pioneers