Bag Of Bones No. 1

[soncnica]

Title: Bag Of Bones No. 1
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, coz of language
Genre/pairing: Jared, Jensen, h/c, general
Characters: Jared, Jensen
Word count: cca. 5.080 words
Summary: Jensen gets send to a camp. Jared is the psychologist there. J2-AU. This story is a continuation of Cracked Bones, which is a continuation of Boneless.
Warnings: Umm, child abuse!!!!, suicide attempt&talk, language, drugs, self-harm. And Jensen is 16 and Jared is 26; I played with their ages a little, and I don't care.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is not mine!
A/N: Story no.10 in the Kosti!verse. Oh wow, 10!?

Gen's office is awesome, no other way to describe it. The door is heavy wood, chestnut probably, judging by the color, and the room is soft looking even if everything in it is made from hard wood. The smell is flowery, part Gen's deodorant and part the flowers that're standing proud in the vases on a small desk below a huge window. Gen's desk is large and standing directly opposite the door, so that whoever comes in, Gen is the first thing they see. The large window is clean glass, no curtains so that she can see outside on the campground and people can see inside, wave or stop for a chat.

Inviting. Approachable. Open for anyone who wants to talk.

Right now though, Jared wishes for curtains, because Gen's eyes are pushing him into the ground and if no one will see him disappear in the ground, he will be lost forever.

"Damnit Jared, what the hell were you thinking? What?!"

He's feeling like a small child, even if he is 6'4" and Gen is a pip-squeak, but damn, if she isn't making him feel like a little kid. Her eyes are dark, her arms crossed at her chest, her hip leaned to the front of the desk and her voice could cut a diamond in half. But then again, he isn't expecting anything else from her. Because anything else, and she wouldn't be who she is.

"Gen..."

He tries to placate, his arms raised in a 'calm down' gesture, because she's looking a bit like she'll have a heart attack any second now.

"Don't ... don't Gen me, don't ... fuck!"

"Gen, just hear me out..."

He's trying for calm and composed, soft and soothing, because he really doesn't want Gen to have a stroke.

"We have to call his parents. We ... we have to."

That makes him take a step closer to her, and he grabs the backs of the two chairs that are placed in front of the desk, placing them between him and Gen, because now the fire in her eyes has died down, but that just means she found a solution and she is not gonna be swayed in any other direction. And that could be dangerous.

"No!" he yells, because no, just no. They can't do that. He promised to Jensen and he doesn't want to break the promise, because that ... could probably mean death for Jensen, be it physical or mental, it just means death.

He can see he scared her with the shout, but damnit, just no. He grips the wooden backs tighter, reigning in his anger and frustration. He doesn't wanna scare her. That's the last thing he wants to do.

"No... no, please, just don't."

"It's the freaking law, he tried to kill himself. No, no I have to call them."

She's already turning around, trying to reach for the folder that contains Jensen's contact information, and he can't have that. He can't.

"Gen!" he yells again, but this time when she turns around at he sound of his booming voice, his eyes fill with pleading and he knows she can see it.

"Look, Gen, listen to me, okay? Just gimme five minutes to explain."

He can feel he's winning, he can actually see her relaxing and shutting down her 'I'm the boss here' body posture.

"Okay, go."

"Okay, uh..."

Now that he has his one time opportunity, he doesn't know where to begin. Because there's just so much to say. Too much. But in the end it all comes down to: "He didn't try to kill himself. He just cut himself, and you know the difference."

He cringes inwardly, because he's one pig pile of lies. Mike and he never told Gen that Jensen actually did try to kill himself a few days ago, but ... this maybe isn't the perfect time to say that. Not yet anyways.

"Not suicide, Gen, just cutting. Look, just ... please, please don't call them."

"Jared..." she sighs and he sees her loosening up. He might even be winning this one. It's a heady feeling, because he hasn't won a fight between them in years.

"I'm asking you as a friend here Gen, we've known each other for twenty years, you know me. Please, please trust me."

He's going for the low blow, the last punch to make it count. He needs to win this one. There's just no other option.

"Jared, I don't know..."

"Please ... uhh, look you call his parents, they'll come and drag him to that house and he will die there. Either by his own hand or by theirs, but he will die. And I can't," he takes a deep breath, "I can't let that happen. I can't and I know you can't either."

There. Truth. The painful, real truth. Now it's all on Gen. And by the look on her face, by the sadness in her eyes, he knows he won.

"Jared ... fuck."

"I'll look after him, make sure he doesn't do this again. I'll talk to him, try to find a solution, I don't know, just..."

"And the rest of the kids?"

What? What's that supposed to mean? What? What about the other kids? He frowns.

"What? 'm not neglecting them. I talk to them more than any other person in this camp, you know that."

"Yeah, yeah I know," she sighs, "I just ... I don't know. We could get in a lot, and I mean a lot of trouble hiding this from his parents."

He understands. He does. This is Gen's job as the boss here and she could get in so much trouble for this and so could he, but he can't let Jensen go back yet. He can't allow that. He won't.

"I know, I know, but trust me, Jensen's parents, they won't care if we tell them and even if they will see those new scars ... they'll be just that, just more scars. They probably won't even notice and trust me, Jensen won't tell them. And they probably won't sue or anything, because the last thing they need is publicity. Of the bad kind."

He's winning this. He's actually going to win this argument. He can't believe it and it makes heat spread throughout his whole body.

"Okay. Well, what about his brother, huh?"

"You mean Josh?"

"That his name?"

"Yeah."

She's right. They should call his brother; he seemed to care about Jensen. But he's sure that the guy can't help him anymore than he can.

"You can call him, but please just gimme some time. Let me try to help the kid, let him stay until the end of the camp, it's just three more weeks. He needs this, Gen. You have no idea. Just give him these three weeks of being safe and carefree and let him enjoy them like a kid should, okay? I know he's starting to loosen up a bit, he's sleeping, kinda, and," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "he is a good kid, okay?"

"Alright. Lord knows why I trust ya, but I do, so just, just keep him away from sharp objects."

"Thanks. And you trust me, because you know you can."

"Yeah, yeah... just go and take care of the kids."

Before he can answer that with a 'will do, munchkin'', the sound of someone screaming makes them both turn towards the window.

There is dirt flying every which way, and they can see legs sticking out from the cloud of brown and some kids standing in a half circle.

"What the hell?"

He's the first one out the door, running down the stairs and to the fight. He knows Gen is right behind him, because that's her job and because even when they had been kids, she always ran where he did.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" he shouts and forces his way into the half circle, grabbing for the first pretzel he can get his hands on.

It's Jensen.

"Whooooah, Jensen, come on, stop!"

The kid is like fire in his arms, twisting and turning, trying to wiggle his way out of his arms, but he just pulls him tighter to his chest and lifts him up in the air. Which gives Jensen a very good opportunity to kick him in his left shin with his heel and he grunts, but doesn't let go.

"Stop it, calm down."

Nick is holding the other kid, Gary. Of course. Gary. Crap. The kid is bleeding from his nose, his cheeks are bruised, his shirt is torn at the neckline, his knees are scraped and bleeding ... he's a mess.

"Okay, okay break it off, break it off, come on, kids, chill." Nick is yelling at everyone, while trying to hold onto Gary's wiggling form.

There's another kid, Marcus, sitting on the floor, tears running down his face, but he isn't looking injured. Just ... sad, upset. Jared gets it then. He understands.

"Okay, okay, Jensen calm down." he feels Jensen go limp in his arms and he sets him back to the ground.

"Okay, Nick take Gary there to Mike's, I'll come by in a few, Gen grab Marcus and take him to your office. Jensen come with me and the rest of you, go to your counselors. Go."

They all scatter around like headless chickens.

-:-

"Sit down."

He doesn't mean to sound ... angry ... but somehow that just came out angry. He takes a deep breath and leans on the edge of the table, ignoring Gen standing by the window. He only has eyes for Jensen and Marcus right now, both of them sitting on the chairs, Marcus sniffing and wiping his cheeks as best as he can with his already wet hands and Jensen is staring at the floor, fiddling with his hands. Nervous. Scared. Petrified.

"I'm not angry, guys. No one is angry at you two, okay? Everything is just fine, okay? Alright? Trust me, everything is okay. You're safe here, okay?"

He needs to put that out in the open, needs them to understand that they aren't in any kind of trouble, because he knows them both well and the only way they're gonna talk, is if they feel safe and listened to.

He crouches before Marcus, knowing the kid is the cause of all this. Marcus is tiny, thirteen and going from foster home to foster home, always being picked on and teased because he's just so small for his age with a mop of blond hair, freckles all over his cheeks and nose and big brown eyes hiding under huge glasses.

He puts his hand on Marcus' bony knee, because he knows the kid craves touch, and that this is welcomed.

"Hey Marcus, hey look at me."

The kid's eyes are filled with tears that are running from beneath his glasses. He looks like he's gonna shatter into a million pieces any second now. The kid came to camp, because his foster parents thought it would be good for him, after finding him stealing. Stuff. Everything he could, he stole. Screaming for attention, the only way he could, because his voice was that of a tiny mouse. Soft. Barely heard.

"Gary c- c-aalled," sniff, "m-me a four, four-e-eyed dwe-eb."

Yeah, he thought it was something like that.

"It's not my," a hitch, "fault I wear glasses. It's not, not m-my fault."

No, it isn't the kid's fault. It isn't his fault that when he had been a baby his mother, drugged up to her gills dropped him on his face, breaking something in his eyes so that he's partially blind on his right eye and has to wear glasses to see on his left eye. He told him, when they talked for the first time, that he can see blurry shapes on his bad eye, but he truly needs glasses to see anything on his good eye. It probably hadn't been the fall that damaged his eyes, he had thought then, but the drugs flowing in his mother's system when she was carrying him. But it's not the kid's fault; he just has to carry the consequences.

Fuck this world, sometimes.

"Hey, I know, I know. It's not. It's really not, buddy."

He tightens his grip on the dirty knee, feeling the bones grit together. God, but the kid needs to eat more.

The kid nods and sniffs again, a big tear falling down to his dusty shirt.

"Anything else happened, mm?"

"He ca-called me a four eyed re-retard."

He sniffs again and Jared sighs. Goddamn.

"I'm not," shaky draw of breath, "not retarded."

He shakes his head: "Marcus, no, come on, of course not. You're a smart kid, an awesome kid."

"And then Jensen," he sniffs in a huge glob of snot, "tackled Gary to the ground and," he smiles, "it was awesome."

Jared smiles too: "Yeah? Awesome, huh?"

Marcus nods. The kid probably never experienced something like this before. Someone defending him, someone taking his side, someone caring for him, noticing him, focusing on him.

"Well, guys, Gary is bleeding all over Mike's cabin right now, and I bet Mike isn't finding that awesome."

"No."

"No, 's right."

And then he finds himself lap full of Marcus, the kid's bony arms wrapping themselves around his neck, the kid's heartbeat strongly thumping right over his own. The kid really needs to eat more, especially here at camp, where there's plenty of food. He'll have to have a word with the cooks.

"It isn't your fault Marcus, it isn't. Believe me. You're a good kid, you're gonna grow up to be a good person, I promise you. Everything is gonna be okay. Everything."

Little does he know, that Marcus will be dead by the time he'll hit fifteen.

"Shhhh, sh, sh, come on, its okay buddy." he runs his hand through the wild mop of hair, trying to calm the kid down, to give him something to focus on, instead of the hurt he's probably feeling inside his little chest.

"'s not my fault, 's not."

"Its okay, kiddo, 's not your fault. It's okay."

He glances at Gen and she's standing there like a statue, but he knows her too well and he knows she's screaming on the inside. Screaming and crying. And then it hits him, like lightning. Gen isn't pulling the kid away from his arms ... so hugging is allowed then. Good. Good.

"Okay Marcus, calm down now, come on. Come on ... come on, buddy."

But the kid is still crying, sobbing, wetting his shirt just like Jensen did during the night and if this is gonna go on, he's gonna need to get some more shirts. Camp issued, of course.

And then a hand joins his in comfort. Jensen. The kid's hand is rubbing Marcus' back alongside his, ironing down the shudders that are coursing through Marcus' body.

He doesn't want to look Jensen's way, doesn't want to break this ... this moment. Because maybe this moment is the last one for both boys that means something. His momma always told him to treasure moments that make him feel good, because you never know when they will come again.

"You're okay, Marcus. It's okay."

He stands up with the kid attached to his body with arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his hips and the strength with which he's being held is insane, nothing he expected from Marcus at all. The kid probably has trouble lifting up an ant.

"m gonna take him to Mike, okay. Be right back."

Gen nods and hugs her middle. She isn't okay and he knows he'll have to deal with her too, before his day'll be over.

"Jensen, wait here."

He whispers and opens the door.

-:-

Mike is not a happy man. He is a pretty pissed off man, but it has nothing to do with Jared. He never imagined the day would come, when Mike would not be angry at him, but someone else. And that someone else is Nick.

He can hear raised voices coming from the cabin where he's carrying Marcus, to get checked out, maybe even sedated, because the kid isn't crying at the moment but he's breathing kinda funny and not easing up on his grip.

He can't really hear the words being spoken by the two men in the cabin, but he does hear the word asshole quite clearly.

"Its okay buddy, gonna get you to Mike, get you checked out, okay. Get you to have some sleep. "

He thinks he felt a nod against his neck, but he can't be sure. He does hear a soft snore though.

When he opens the door to the cabin he sees Mike and Nick standing only inches apart and to be honest, he doesn't wanna know. But he needs to ask, because it is a part of his job. As if the drama the kids cook up during the day isn't enough, he has to deal with the drama the grown-ups cook up too.

He feels Marcus' fingers tug at the curly hair at his nape and he just hopes the kid isn't waking up.

"Mike, take him. Check him out, get him to have some sleep, and if he wakes up or anything tell him I'll come check on him as soon as possible. How's Gary?"

His order makes both men jump into action. Mike to pry Marcus from his body, the kid holding on like a tick, Jesus, and Nick to tell him that Gary's okay. Patched up and already outside doing punishment.

"Good, good. I have to go back to Gen, I left Jensen alone with her. Just keep an eye on Marcus Mike, suicide watch okay? Just until I talk to him, okay?"

Suicide watch was more or less, Mike having the kid lay in his office and not in the rooms. Not until someone could come and keep the kid some company, get his mind off of things.

"Okay, I will deal with Gary later. Or do you wanna do it, Nick?"

"I'll have a word with him, but ..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go find him later and have a chat. So ... wanna tell me what was going on here before I came?"

"Later, alright?"

"Sure."

Mike will spill the beans. They're friends, and the guy always spills the beans. He's gonna deal with that later.

Wow, there are a lot of later's going on today. He maybe should write all this down.

"Okay, well then, I'll be at Gen's. You need me, come find me."

He pats Marcus' back one more time and leaves him with Mike. They'll be alright.

-:-

The walk back to Gen's cabin is ... lonely without someone attached to him like an octopus. He shakes his head and smiles. If someone had told him when he had been thirteen what he'd be doing at twenty-six, he would laugh and punch the person in his face.

But yeah ... life turns out the way it wants and this is it for him.

-:-

When he walks back into Gen's office he sees nothing has changed, sure he has only been away for like five minutes but still ... Jensen's still sitting in the chair and Gen's still hugging her middle leaning on the desk in front of the window.

He isn't sure if this is a good thing or a really bad one, because ... Jensen had just been in a fight, even after he kinda vouched for him, promised to keep him out of trouble, and now this ... Damnit.

"Hey guys. So Gary is serving prison time, Marcus is at Mike's and uh, yeah..."

He tries to sound cheery, because the atmosphere in the room is ... not cold exactly, but not warm either.

"So, uh..."

He claps his hands together and walks toward the desk to get a look at Jensen. The kid is still staring at the floor, probably finding his shoes mighty fascinating, and his fingers are clenching and unclenching ... he's probably still full of adrenaline, but boy, is he hiding it well.

"Jensen..."

"He was teasin' him, he was sayin' all kinda crap, he shoved him to the ground, nearly freakin' breakin' his arm, he was callin' him names, saying he was an asshole and a dweeb and a moron and mentally challenged and that his mouth was just right to suck cock, not as if he'd notice the difference between cock and carrot, because he couldn't see it anyways. I had to, I just had to..."

"Whoah, whoah, jeez, whoah, okay, okay, slow down, slooooow down, man, calm down. Its okay, its fine. I know Gary and he's ... well ... and its okay, you helped Marcus out, its fine."

"Please don't hit me, please don't, please, don' hurt me..."

The words are whispered, like a chant while Jensen is rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

"Jensen, no. Hey, look at me!"

"Please don't, pleaseplease don't..."

"Jensen, look at me!"

His eyes are ... wild. They are those of a wild animal, when it notices it's pray, hopped up on adrenaline and a need to feed.

"Jensen, you know where you are? You know who I am?"

Silence.

"Jensen?"

"Jared."

"Yeah, you're safe here, remember? 'm not gonna hurt you. Never, okay."

"I ... know?"

Fuck. Fuck.

"You know or you know?"

"I, I know."

"Good, good, its okay. Listen, what you did, it's complicated, you understand. It was wrong, but right. Do you know what I mean?"

"I'm not stupid, don't treat me as if I'm stupid. I know it was wrong, but it felt right, but it was wrong. I'm not fucking stupid."

Fuck. First it was pain and sadness, now its fire and fight.

He doesn't know what kinda Jensen he prefers, because both are the same kid.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply..."

"Stop treatin' me like a kid, stop it."

Okay this is going downhill with warp speed.

"Jensen, okay. Then as a not kid, please go to Mike, get that cut," he points to Jensen's cheek, "looked at and then see if you can sit with Marcus a bit, just until I get there, okay?"

"Fine."

Fire and ice.

-:-

When the door close behind Jensen, Jared sighs. This is going to be a long, long day and it's only around nine in the morning. Guh.

"You okay?"

He turns towards Gen and watches her fish for an answer.

"I ... I forgot that you're like the sun."

He frowns, because what? Gen is weird, but not that weird.

"What?"

"Your mom ... you remember when we were like fifteen and we went to swim to that lake? Where Liz finally got that kiss from Chad? Remember?"

He nods, he remembers that day really well, because Chad passed out after that kiss. But not because of the kiss, but because of a heat stroke, the crazy ass.

"Before we went, I was in the kitchen with your mom, you were upstairs looking for your swim trunks, she ... she poured me my first cup of coffee then," she smiles at the memory, "she ... she asked me, or well more like said, uh, Jared shines like the sun, doesn't he? And I was like, what the fuck is this woman talking about, so I just huffed and drank my coffee and then nearly drowned you in the lake. Remember?"

Remember? How could he forget ... it had been an awesome day, well, minus Chad being rushed to the ER.

"But she was right. You do shine like the sun, you ... damn it, Jared. Fuck you."

"Uh..."

He's completely confused now. He obviously fell into a rabbit hole somewhere on his way from Mike's cabin, because he just doesn't get it.

"You are," she shakes her head and walks to her chair, "you're good at what you do, kids love you, you ... everyone loves you. Everyone always loved you."

"Gen..."

He walks towards her and spins her chair to face him. He crouches down before her and takes her trembling hands in his.

"Your mom ... our friends, the whole town loved you. You really were, still are, so bright, its crazy and I love that, can't not love it."

"Gen, no, don't do this..."

"But me, well ... you know, I was watching Jensen while you were gone and I ... I saw myself in him. Fucking like looking into a mirror, well, kinda," she smiles sadly.

"Gen no, come on, babe, don't do this to yourself. Don't ... you can't ... he's gone now, you understand? Your dad is gone and he can't hurt you anymore. He can't."

She bites her lip, sucking up her tears.

"Gen, listen to me, listen. He's gone, will never ever come back to hurt you. It's okay, now."

"It isn't, it still isn't."

"I know, and it never will be, but its better, right? I see you every day and everyday you're better, braver. Understand me?"

She nods.

"Don't cry, come on, not for him, okay? Or I'll tell that husband of yours, that you were crying about this and then he'll go all mother hen on ya until the end of days. And I know you don't want that."

He chuckles, because yeah Mike going into a mother hen mode is not something he'd wish even on his worst enemy.

She smiles and lets her head fall forward on her chest: "Fuck!"

Yeah, his thoughts exactly.

"Yeah, I know."

He says while rubbing the inside of her delicate wrists with his fingers. He's tracing the faint scars there, scars made by a knife from his mom's kitchen. It had been winter. Cold. Snowy. He remembers thinking just how much color Gen's blood gave the world in all that whiteness.

"Don't do that, don't..."

He doesn't stop rubbing even when she tries to tug her arms out of his grip. There are three scars, three little reminders of just how far someone can go to escape.

"m not doing anything."

"You are, you are and you know it and please stop doin' it."

He continues to rub her wrists, feeling the wild heartbeat underneath the soft skin become steadier, slow, slower.

"I don't know what you're talking 'bout, I'm not doin' anything..."

"I hate you, I hate you so much, just don't..." she whispers, her voice getting smaller and smaller with each pass of his fingertips across her skin, across the scars. Across her past.

He smiles and continues to rub until he can see her eyes closing and her body becoming limp.

Falling asleep.

He really isn't doing anything; he's just ... there, just listening. He really has no idea why people always assume he's doing something, when he's really not.

He sighs, gets up from the floor and spins the chair so that he can lay Gen's upper body on the desk.

"There ya go, babe. Half an hour of sleep and you'll be just fine."

On his way out he literally bumps into Jamie, making the girl flail wildly with her arms to get her balance back before he can catch her.

"Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry..."

"Jesus, just watch where you're going, dude."

"Sorry, sorry ... uh, maybe this isn't the greatest time to ask for a favor, but could you check on Gen every couple of minutes? Just so that she won't drool all over herself and uh, any papers."

She gives him a look. Frowns and he can just tell she's a bit pissed at him, but hey, he's just trying to help.

"What did you do?" it's almost a growl.

"Nothing, nothing. I didn't do anything, why do people always assume I did something?"

"Uh, because you're ... weird like that? Suspicious, yeah that's the word. Suspicious."

"What am I now? A criminal?"

"Naw, wouldn't say that..."

He doesn't have time for this ... he has to go check on Marcus and Jensen and hunt down Gary and talk to Mike and fuck, Mike. He will go through the roof when he'll find out his wife is, erm, was put to sleep by him. And about her remembering her father again, but Mike won't hear that from him, because he doesn't want to be punched in the face before Gen could get Mike to see some sense.

"Jamie, please. Just check on her okay, until Mike can come and take care of her."

"Okay, fine."

He can hear her mutter freak, but he's too far away to say anything back. Yeah, freak. But he's comfortable with that. Proud of it, even. Because being called a freak now, is so very different than when he had been called that when he was a kid. Now, he takes the word with pride, lets it envelop him, make him feel good about himself, because being a freak is so damn better than being … boringly normal.

He just wishes sometimes, so badly, that he could make the kids see that too. That being different, even if they're teased about it, is okay.

He sighs and steps over a tree root on his way to Mike's.

Bag Of Bones No. 2