Funny Bone 2/2

[soncnica]

Title: Funny Bone 2/2
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, coz of language
Genre/pairing: Jared, Jensen, h/c, general
Characters: Jared, Jensen
Word count: cca. 3.100  words
Summary: Jensen gets send to a camp. Jared is the psychologist there. J2-AU. This story is a continuation of Bag Of Bones No. 3, which is a continuation of Bag Of Bones No. 2.
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.13 in the Kosti!verse.

He loves coming here. By the lake. Just sit on the pebbly shore and watch the dark water glow in the moonlight. The stillness of the water stills his thoughts, makes him process what he heard through the day, makes him set up a plan for the next day, makes him ... breathe.

He knows he should be in bed, asleep because it's around one in the morning and he has to get up early, but this ... this is his time. Time to breathe in and breathe out, to relax and hear nothing but some boats rubbing sides by the pier and some frogs that haven't yet found sleep.

He needs this. Every damn night, he needs this. To stop, to relax, to close his eyes and breathe in the smell of pine and spruce trees and hear the sounds of the water.

This is his time and even if he's tired down to his bones, he really can't fall asleep if he doesn't have this first.

Sometimes he sits here for hours after the camp goes quiet and asleep; there are nights when he only needs a few minutes, but he always needs this.

The soft, warm breeze, the sounds of animals that only come out at night, the sounds of the water. It's what keeps him going, what makes him still see the beauty in the world. Night has magic, his mom used to say. She said to use it, to allow the night to calm him down, make him see light in the darkness, because the world's dark even in the brightest of sunshine and he should see light all the time, or he is going to wither and die.

He grabs a fistful of little pebbles mixed with some long pine needles and throws it all in the water. It makes a splash and the ripples spread throughout the surface, shiny little waves in the silver moonlight.

He leans back on his hands and looks up at the sky; millions and millions of flickering stars and a plane with a red pulsing light. That is the sky tonight and it's beautiful. He closes his eyes and pushes his feet deeper under the water that is spilling to the shore.

It's cool, the water, not cold, but nicely cool chasing away the day's lingering heat.

He groans quietly, because it feels so good to relax like this. To make every bad thing float away from him and into the water, to still his thoughts, to make himself think of nothing else but how the night can be so bright.

He feels sleepy, so sleepy but he shakes himself awake. He can't sleep here. He searches for his socks and pulls them on over his wet feet. He groans when he stands up and stretches up to the sky; his muscles feel sore, but his heart and head are lighter, brighter and purer than they've been when he got here. He finds his shoes and turns toward camp. It's all dark there. All cabins are lights out and sleeping. He starts walking back to his own cabin, even though he would much rather stay here, enjoy the calm water and the silent night, but he can't. He mustn't. No one should ever find out about this, because he doesn't want company here. He doesn't want Mike or Gen or anyone else asking him if he's alright, if everything's okay, if he wants some company. He doesn't want that, because this is his time. It's his time to regroup. To get back the strength the kids all but leech away from him during the day. But ... there's nothing else he would rather be doing than what he is doing.

These kids ... they are precious, misunderstood, fighting with teeth and nails, disregarding normal, like it is disregarding them, and ... he knows he can help. Has helped. Will help.

But he needs this time for himself.

He understands the kids in that regard. When they sometimes all but yell at him to back off and leave them the fuck alone. He understands the need to just be left alone sometimes. But there are times when he can't do that. When his instinct screams at him to not do that, even if he gets kicked or hit or spat on or cussed at. He trusts his instincts, he has to or the kids will eat him alive and then some. They'll abuse him and the trust he puts in them and that'll not end well.

He recharges his instincts on nights like these too. They must never become damaged, cracked. He needs time away from everyone and everything to make sure he will function like the grown up, capable psychologist that he is.

-:-

The path to his own little cabin is so familiar to him; he doesn't need a flashlight to light his way. He knows every root that could make him stumble and fall; he knows where to go left and where to go right. He has been a counselor at this camp for a lot of years, knows it inside and out, knows all its hidden places and all its traps. There's nothing that could shock him, because year after year nothing changes, everything stays the same. The cabins, the equipment, even the staff. Well, Mike and Gen certainly never will change, because they bought the camp two years ago, it's theirs, so ... and they asked him to stay, begged him, Gen even cried a little, but he can't. He needs to move on, help more kids, search for opportunities to be better, to do better, to help kids who are never gonna come to this camp.

It had been a tough decision to make, one he spent almost a year chewing on, but he knows it's the right one. He already has a job waiting for him in the city when the summer ends, and it's an amazing job.

He stops on the path and leans on a spruce tree. He'll miss this. Will miss this little haven that he shares with his friends, miss spending summers here, weeks of adventures, hiking, swimming, lessons in so many awesome things and watching happiness in the kids eyes when they hit a target with their handmade bows or catch a fish for the first time. He'll miss their carefree laughter when they do something awesome and aren't being judged for doing something a bit more badly. He'll even miss their cries and screams and demands to be taken back home.

He will miss this place. Maybe ... maybe one day ... when the city life will become too dark, he'll come back. Maybe. But he won't tell that to Gen or Mike, because he doesn't want to give them hope and then crush it.

He smiles and looks left and right, up and down the path at the cabins he can see. The place holds a lot of memories, good and bad.

A lot of memories.

He shakes his head and pushes himself from the tree. He needs some sleep.

-:-

The camp is silent, everyone sleeping peacefully - he hopes. There'd been a day - two, three days ago when Nickolas had a nightmare, woke up screaming, waking up the whole camp. It took him almost an hour and a half to calm the kid down and no one really got any sleep after that. It hadn't been a good night. Or day. Everyone'd been on edge and the kid felt horrible for what happened, and no matter how many times everyone, including the rest of the kids, had reassured him that it was fine, he still couldn't let it go. It hadn't been Nickolas' fault; dreams can be a nasty thing, fears and memories mixing until everything explodes and that's what made Nickolas scream until his voice gave up and then he just wailed silent words into his chest until dawn came. The kids had been scared; they will probably never forget the sound of the screams that woke them all up. But it hadn't been Nickolas' fault and the kids knew that, because they can sniff a fellow soldier down like sharks smell blood. The kids can be vicious, but there's still compassion in them, that he's sometimes in awe of. He shouldn't be, not really, but is. Because no matter how much and how many times life kicks these kids, they still know compassion, especially for someone who carries the same wounds as them.

-:-

The leaves rustle in the wind and he stops again. It's a sound that grounds him, a sound that speaks of the here and now. A sound that is real, when so many things aren't. Fake smiles, fake words, fake comfort, fake, fake, fake and lies. He fakes comfort sometimes, he lies, he does it yeah, and he doesn't ever feel sorry for it. Ever. Because these kids crave it. Need it. Even if they know it's fake, false, all lies, it still brings a smile on their faces. Even if for just a little while.

It's been four days. Four days of peace and quiet, no drama, no nothing. Four days of just doing what he was meant to do in the camp. Talk to the kids; help them understand why certain things are as they are, try to bring them out of their shells that they so gladly hide in and cling to, even in the safest of environments. Try to make them speak, try to make them shut up, just ... listen to them, when no one does and talk to them, when no one talks to them. Sure people talk but it's mostly at them, never to them and some kids get so frustrated at that, they develop all kind of behavior 'abnormalities' as Mike would call it.

"You deal with abnormalities, Jared. There's nothing normal about that."

He smirks remembering that little gem of Mike's. That man is all kinds of weird, but he's an excellent doctor and an amazing friend and he wouldn't want it any other way.

So for the last four days, he has just been there for them in any way the kids needed him.

Some cussed at him, Sarah even spat at him, which had been just gross and completely uncalled for and ruined the last clean t-shirt he had, but whatever, he's used to all kinda crap flying out of kids mouths. It's just how it is and he's used to it. It could've been worse, she could've spat at Mike and then she would probably be on cooking duties for the rest of the camp. Peeling potatoes is a horrible punishment, but doing it for the rest of camp. Every day? Just cruel.

-:-

But still, it's tough to do this, especially with kids, especially with these kids, that society or their parents just kind of forgot about, kicked them out the door and said, there, now go your merry way and stay the fuck out.

He sighs and looks up through the canopy of shadows. The nights, even with all their calmness and stillness, are the worst. He spends them by the lake and after that lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing for it to give him all the right answers to all the questions the kids ask him during the day.

Why do my parents hate me?

Why don't I have any friends?

Why do people never talk to me?

Why did my parents leave me?

Why am I so stupid?

Why can't I do anything right?

Why do others pick on me?

Why does it feel so good if I hurt myself?

Why can't I just die?

Why, why, why. But the ceiling never has any answers. Neither does the darkness.

-:-

Four days of nothing. It will have to end. Peace and quiet are always, aaalways just the calm before the storm.

He doesn't want a storm, literally or figuratively. He wants sunny days, warm nights and everything to be okay. But life doesn't work that way.

He shakes his head and wipes sweat from his forehead. He doesn't have the strength to shower, even if he smells of sweat and the food Ms. Lash made for dinner, but all he wants is to just crawl to his bed and fall asleep without anything on his mind. He's calm right now, heartbeat slow and steady, and his thoughts no longer in disarray. He could sleep and dream of good things, oh, like beer. Chocolate cake. Gummy bears. Good memories.

-:-

Sixteen more steps and he closes the door to the cabin. Its dark inside, but he knows the path to his bed and he collapses on it on his belly, heaving out a huge breath. There are shirts and pants and probably some socks on the bed, but he just doesn't have the strength to clean it all up. He'll do it in the morning. Maybe.

He sighs and puts his arms on the pillow, supporting his heavy head on his forearms. The moon is still huge and everything is silver light, bright like in the middle of the day. And it's still hot. The heat has been relentless the whole four days and he's just waiting for the rain to hit. He has spent enough summers here to know how things go and he can smell the rain coming. Every heat here ends with thunder and lightning, maybe even hail. But definitely rain. He's dreading that, because that means the kids will be cooped up in their cabins, with their cabin leaders and shit will go down. Always has, always will. And he's ready for it. He has tissues, he has water, he knows the kids more now than he did a week ago, he knows what makes them tick, what makes them break and what mends them, if only a fraction.

He's ready for the storm to come. He just hopes everyone else is too.

-:-

He turns on his left side and hugs the pillow, punching it a few times to make it somewhat more comfortable. He sighs again. He twists to his right and puts his hand on his forehead, pushing his sweaty hair back.

He should have stayed by the lake for a few more minutes. Maybe half an hour more, because he was sleepy there, but here? He's so far away from sleep. Everything is starting to ... cling to him. His t-shirt, his pants, his socks, the bed is a prison that takes away the freedom he felt when he'd been outside.

And...

... Jensen.

He can't not think of that kid. For these past four days the kid had been fine, doing what he had to do; eating, sleeping, talking to the other kids, even laughing. He seemed fine. Happy, maybe, in his own way. But happiness can be faked just like everything else and if anything, Jensen is the best faker out there.

But watching him interact with other kids, it makes him feel good, like he actually made some progress. Some crazy weird step forward in making Jensen see that not all people, not all kids are cruel.

He still has questions for the kid. Questions that he really doesn't know how to ask; doesn't know where to begin, because he doesn't want to spook the kid. But he needs to know. Do your parents hurt you every day? What is the worst thing that ever happened? Did you ever tell anyone? What did the doctors say? Where is your brother? Does he hurt you too? And then the awkward questions like, do your parents ever - touch - you? That question makes him sick to his stomach every time he has to ask it. And Jensen isn't the first nor the last person he will have to ask that question. But it never not makes him wanna vomit.

And then ... a question that he can't really ask without coming off as an insensitive asshole, but ... how is it, to live your days in such fear? In pain?

He wants to know that. Wants to know what still makes Jensen so ... okay. What makes him keep going?

He knows the kid had tried to commit suicide a lot of times, but there had always been - something that pulled him back from death. The last time, it was him. He will never forget Jensen with that plastic knife that he stole from the kitchen. He will never forget the cold shiver that ran down his spine when he saw Jensen leaning against the wall, beside his bed, sleeve up and the knife pressed to his delicate wrist. He will never be able to delete that fucked up image from his mind.

But still ... there has to be something inside the boy, making him fight. He's a strong spirit; smart with a wicked sense of humor and compassion.

His parents and all the people around him couldn't take that away from him no matter how much they, probably, tried.

He's strong. Maybe he will, one day and with a little push, be able to be alright. Safe. And even stronger. And trust in people.

He has so many questions; questions he probably will never get answers to.

-:-

And Marcus and Gary were still fighting about Batman and Superman last he saw them three days ago. So, that's going well. They're just friends, because they instinctively know that they shouldn't look for support in one another. Not like it would be with Jensen. Marcus would know Jensen would be the strong one and so he wouldn't have to be.

It's for the best. Jensen knows it too.

He turns on his back and groans. He played soccer with some kids in the afternoon and he's definitely feeling the burn in his legs and the bruises on his whole left side when the kids tackled him to the ground. He's sore like hell. He hadn't played soccer in years, since he was seventeen and while the mind never forgets the rules, the body sure forgets how it is to run after that ball for an hour. Or even more.

"Never playing soccer again..." he whispers to the ceiling and again, the ceiling doesn't say anything. No comforting lies from it.

"You suck..."

The ceiling doesn't reply.

Maybe some things just don't need answers. Maybe some things just are.

He closes his eyes and breathes out, sinking into the mattress, letting go. He can't do anything right now, but rest. And hope that tomorrow will be a good day again.

It hurts like getting hit on his funny bone ...

... when tomorrow turns out to be a bad day.

CHAPTER 1

A/N: I am super late with this update, I know, but my laptop died on me last week! Bummer, you know? It is getting fixed, but its not looking so good. Bigger bummer. And because of this, I have no idea when I will be able to post another story, which is the biggest bummer. Lets hope I will get my laptop back soon. Thank you for reading!

Comments

[ayane42.livejournal.com]

awesome chapter!!

bummer about your computer :(

still totally loving this verse!!

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Hey, thank you for reading! I am really glad you are enjoying this :-)
And *sigh* yeah, bummer! But at least the fix-it-guy said that all data can be saved, which means all my stories-in-writing can be saved too, phew .. :-)

Thank you! And I will try to post the next story as soon as I can! :-)

S.

[ferrous-wheeler.livejournal.com]

Now I want to curl up next to a lake for some 'me time' too :) Wonderful insight into Jared's mind.
Sorry to hear about your laptop. Hopefully it can yet be saved!

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Hahahha!! And you probably wouldn't mind Jared interrupting your "me time", huh? :-)
Thank you so much for reading and I promise next story will have both guys interacting again and I can't wait to throw myself into writing that story. :-)

Yeah bummer about my laptop, but at least the guy said that he can save all my data, which means all my stories-in-writing can be saved, phew! :-)

Thank you!
S.

[tcs1121.livejournal.com]

Such a contrast between these two people.

But, I could feel the tension roll off Jared as he sat by the water. I almost was able to re energize along with him.

Great writing.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

thank you so much for reading and commenting!!
yes, yes, such contrast between them and that is why I sometimes write these little chapters, I call them intermezzo chapters, where I just wanna go into their heads and personalities and make them a bit more real for you, the readers! so happy its working! :)))
the next story will have both boys interacting again, hope to see you then too!!
S.

[somer.livejournal.com]

This was like taking a very deep breath and just taking some time!! Loved the weather analogy with the rain coming, Jared alredy feeling it. And I thought yes, it's like seeing the thunder clouds on the horizon.

Awesome view into Jared's head!! :)

Hope you're doing better!

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Hey! thank you for reading and hahah, yeah this chapter was just ... a calm before the storm, basically :) I just wanted to have an ''intermezzo'' chapter and get into Jared and Jensen's heads a bit, see what's up in there and I'm really happy it worked! :)

I am doing better, thank you! As a matter of fact, I am just about to post another story ... a space AU ... lol

have an awesome day! :)
S.

[grumpymagrat.livejournal.com]

Great chapter. Made me want to cry.

Hope the laptop gets fixed soon. Really hate it when the computer up and dies on you.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Sorry about the sadness of this ... (maybe for next story I will recommend tissues)!
aaaand in better news, I have a new laptop AND am already writing the next story in this 'verse!

Thank you so much for reading!

S.

[grumpymagrat.livejournal.com]

Yay for the new laptop. Don't you just love it when they are brand new? Can't wait for the next story.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

YAY indeed! :))) now I can write and watch SPN and mmmm, all is good! :)
I love the smell of new things, although I still have to get used to all the new programs and stuff, but I'm getting there :)

S.

[jj1564.livejournal.com]

I've just read through all of the chapters so far in this verse and have to say it's heart breaking stuff, so well written from both Jensen and Jared's angles. The bit that made me cry was when Jensen first opened up and told Jared about the closet, so awful. I like Mike and Gen too, great characters and good support for Jared. You have more titles listed for this verse and I really hope you are continuing?

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, you read every fic in this verse? Wow, I am speechless, thank you!! :-)
Awww you liked that part? Great, thanks for telling me, I like hearing what parts work and which don't so that I can build on that or never write it again :-) and yeah this story is a bit painful to read sometimes because it deals with things that a lot of people shut their eyes from and don't wanna even think about, which makes me sad, because child abuse of any kind should be spoken about out loud all the time! And I love writing this story, I love the characters I created (and 'm so happy you like them too, which is really important) and I will most definitly continue writing this, as you saw there are a lot of titles still waiting to be writen :-) next story: soaked to the bone :-)

Thank you so much for reading!

S.

[jj1564.livejournal.com]

You're very welcome! I couldn't stop once I started and you have a new obsessive fan because Brittle Memories introduced me to your work and now I will be reading my way through it all! As I said before I love hurt!Jensen & hurt!Dean and you write it really well. I'll stop rambling now!

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

*beams* 'm so happy that you wanna give my other stories a try too, which reminds me, I should update my master list! :-) thank you so much and oh you will find plenty of hurtDean and hurtJensen fic here, as I kinda only write those, although my favorite is hurtSam... lol :-)
Thank you so much and I hope you will find a story that you will like and ya know, not regret spending time reading it :-) :-)
Wooohooo!
S.

[(Anonymous)]

hi.
I hope, you remember about this history. Also you will continue it. or even you will finish. because. Well it is worth it that to finish it =)

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

Hi :)

I will continue this, I have the next story all written up just ready to be posted when I'll have some time :)

Thank you so much for being interested in this 'verse :)

S.

[(Anonymous)]

Soncnica, i love this verse!
this so big history and... overwhelming that doesn't allow to forget about itself.
I watch it already few years and... I simply seldom comment (so left) - sorry about this.

[soncnica.livejournal.com]

hey, it's okay :) thank you for reminding me that I have to update this 'verse :) :)
I'm very, very happy you like this. Thank you so much!!!!!! :) :)
I will update very soon! :)

S.