Jensen hadn’t spoken to Jared during the week. Not since he’d stood him up to get his fix. He was thoroughly immersed in his double life now, barely surfacing to speak to anyone during the day, and living instead at night, drinking and getting high, fucking strangers and having his fair share of awkward ‘morning afters’.
Chris and Steve had left for their tour, each looking vaguely guilty for some reason as they’d said goodbye. Chris had mentioned something about Jared, but Jensen was trying his hardest to ignore Jared existed, and had waved off the comment.
He’d used up the supply the guy had given him at Crimson, and his arms bore the proof, scabs were starting to form over the early marks, but he’d become accustomed to wearing long sleeves wherever he went. Every time he saw his face in his bathroom mirror he wanted to punch it, to break the glass that reflected his shame.
It was nearly eleven at night, and already dark the humid air was causing him to sweat under his long sleeved shirt. He’d tried ringing the same dealer earlier, but the guy hadn’t picked up his phone. Jensen figured he was either ‘retired’, which was not something he wanted to dwell on, or otherwise occupied.
So he’d decided he was going to try fishing the clubs and bars he’d heard were prime spots for dealers. It was getting worse, the withdrawal, even a few hours without his fix now, and he was sweating and shivering at the same time, his stomach threatening to empty itself.
He grabbed a jacket and cash for the bus; he’d learnt it was better not to take his car out now, and headed out of his front door, turning right once he hit the main street, unaware of the dark figure that slipped around the corner, following him and staying hidden in the shadows.
He made good time to the first club, stepping in cautiously, scanning the room immediately for a familiar face. During his late night sojourns he’d become familiar with a number of people who’d offered him their services, if ever needed. And right now he needed.
He smiled triumphantly as he recognised a man leaning against the back wall, chatting up a girl standing next to him. Jackpot.
~**~
He sidled up next to him, still not feeling the eyes that tracked his every move, watching him intently.
“Hey man,” He said, once he was close enough to be heard over the music. The more clubs he visited, the more they seemed to melt into one giant cliché. Each one was the same, just with a different layout.
The guy turned to him, annoyance clearly shining through in his tone, “Do I know you?”
Jensen quirked an eyebrow, “We’ve met, you offered help…I want help.”
He was starting to learn how to play the game now. Never say the word outright, or the guy would bolt, afraid of detection.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the guy replied, turning back to the girl, and completely ignoring Jensen.
Anger started to well up inside of him, this guy was just annoying him now, and he wanted, needed, his fix. He’d wanted it ten minutes ago, but now was all he had, so he tapped the guy on the shoulder, forcing him to face him, “No man, I don’t think you understand. I need some help.”
The guy furrowed his brow, feigning innocence, but Jensen could see in his eyes that he knew what he was talking about, he just wasn’t in the mood for sharing, “Look man, I don’t think you understand. I can’t help you.”
“Quit the bullshit,” Jensen said, wheeling the guy forcibly around again, and getting right into his face, “Just get me the stuff and I’ll leave.”
He wouldn’t have done anything if the guy hadn’t pushed him. He really wouldn’t have. But then he did, he pushed him hard enough to go stumbling backwards into some girl behind him. Jensen apologised shortly, before his eyes narrowed, and he lunged forward, grabbing the collar of the guy and shaking him, “Don’t fucking push me, man.”
The fist came out of nowhere, curving up and smashing into Jensen’s face, sending him backwards again, this time against the wall.
The guy stepped forward, fists still clenched, “What aren’t you getting here? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and you don’t fucking touch me, you got that?”
By way of an answer, Jensen retaliated, punching the guy in the face, sending him sprawling backwards, before he again lunged forward. Soon they were locked in a full on tussle, falling to the floor, kicking and punching, and inflicting pain in anyway possible.
Jensen was fuelled by his need and anger, annoyed that this guy seemed to be going back on his promises, annoyed that now he’d have to go hunting down someone else.
Then someone was grabbing him and pulling him off the guy, who was groaning weakly, blood spurting out of his nose, and a bruise already blossoming around his eye, the skin cracked and split.
“Jensen, what the hell are you doing?”
Time seemed to stand still as he immediately recognised that voice, and his heart skipped a beat, his stomach lurching in disbelief.
He turned slowly, his eyes wide, as he took in the familiar shaggy hair and ridiculously tall frame, “Jared.” He breathed out.
Then reality kicked in, and his brow furrowed, “What are you doing here?”
Jared didn’t get a chance to answer, as one of the bouncers grabbed Jensen’s arm and started dragging him towards the entrance, “You’re getting out of here now, man.”
~**~
Humiliatingly , he was kicked out of the club in a much worse state than when he’d gone in. His shirt was ripped, and a few buttons were missing now. His hair was mussed, and blood was slowly trickling out of his nose.
He sniffed and wiped it away on his shirt sleeve, just as Jared burst out of the door, rushing up to him and grabbing his shoulders. Jensen thought for a heart stopping minute that Jared was going to hug him, but then he was being shaken as Jared vented, “Seriously man, what the fuck? You don’t fight! You just don’t! What did that guy even do? Why’d you start it, man?!”
Jensen kept silent until Jared finally ran out of questions and then he just said quietly, “How’d you even know I was here?”
Jared was silent, and he looked almost guilty, but then resolve spread over his face, and he replied, “I followed you.”
“You…you what?” Jensen said in disbelief, staring up into Jared’s eyes, and ignoring the heat he could feel spreading through him from where Jared’s hands were still resting on his shoulders, “You fucking followed me? Why?”
Jared snorted, removing one hand to run it through his hair, keeping the other one firmly gripped on Jensen’s shoulder, as if to reassure himself that Jensen wasn’t about to run off, “Cause…cause man, I haven’t seen you in days…last time we spoke, you said you were going to come meet me, then you stood me up. I found…I found out something about Chris and Steve, and Jensen…Jen, I was fucking worried, ok?” Jared’s voice cracked, and Jensen started, as he realised Jared sounded like he was about to cry.
But then Jared’s words sunk in, and he froze, stiffening in fear. He was almost afraid to ask, “What did you find out?”
“They’re…fuck man, you know already, don’t you?” Jared asked, almost as if he was talking to himself, “Of course, you’d know first if they were using fucking heroin, cause they’re your friends.”
Jared saw the shock and fear in Jensen’s eyes…and the guilt. And his stomach dropped into his fucking knees. In one swift movement, his hands locked on Jensen’s left arm, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up, and over his elbow.
Jensen tried to retract his arm, desperately twisted against Jared’s grip, but he’d taken him by surprise and had a strong hold on his arm. And he could see.
He could see the marks, the tiny scabs that dotted over his veins, the evidence of his worst nightmare scarred on Jensen’s arm. He dropped Jensen’s arm as if he’d been burnt, his eyes wide, and he swallowed in horror.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, not willing to look into his friend’s eyes, to see whatever darkness resided there. But when he did manage to look up, he hadn’t expected to see tears in Jensen’s eyes, threatening to spill over, “I didn’t think you’d been doing it man, I couldn’t believe it, not even if Chris and Steve were. But you said you’d been spending so much time with them…I found out about them. I thought there was no way you could avoid it, if you’d been hanging with them so much. But I didn’t want to…”
“I…” Jensen said. He had no idea what he could say to Jared that would fix this. He had nothing, no excuse that he was willing to admit to Jared. Jared, who cared so much for him that he would follow him to see what was wrong. Jared, who had betrayed his trust and, against his will, found out his secret.
And those thoughts were all he needed for the anger to rise again, threatening to spill over the edges, just like the tears in his eyes, which he angrily wiped away.
“Jensen…man, you need to get help…” Jared started, before Jensen interrupted.
“Don’t tell me what to do Jared,” He hissed, “I can look after myself. Why don’t you stay the fuck out of my business? You had no right to follow me tonight.”
Jared was taken aback at the sudden onslaught, but then his eyes narrowed, and he almost shouted, “Jensen, listen to yourself. You’re using heroin, fucking heroin man! You’re gonna end up…killing yourself, or shit…I couldn’t…I can’t…”
Jensen ignored the way he just wanted to reach up and kiss the pain away from Jared’s face, the enormity of his love scaring him, as he retorted, “Why don’t you stop being so fucking nosy Jared, and stay the fuck away from me.”
Then he turned around and walked away, willing Jared not to follow him. He wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretence of anger if Jared said anything else with that hurt tone to his voice. He walked off, quickly swallowed by the shadows, as Jared stood still, watching him disappear into the night.
‘Wash me away
Cleanse your body of me
Erase all the memories
They will only bring us pain’
- Muse ‘Citizen Erased’
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