Nicholas: Just a quick fic I wrote. It started out me just wanting to write a drabble, but ended up a bit longer than that. If you've just seen the movie, this might not make too much sense because it's based off the part of comic that wasn't in the movie. Read it anyway! And then review!
Disclaimer: I'm not that crazy. I'm only this crazy. That? That's all them.
Rating: T...content inappropriate for children...namely Jensen.
More than anything, Jensen hated safe houses. More than he hated cucumbers and ingrown toenails. At least they managed to hole up in a place with working air conditioning and plumbing, so that was saying something. Grumbling quietly, he stuck the sugary end of his Tootsie Pop in his mouth and tapped the enter key on his laptop a couple more times. Bored couldn't begin to describe what he was feeling and this was only the second day. He knew that it was all Clay's fault. The damn Colonel had this way of making Jensen feel like he's actually doing something with his life—the whole "Kill Max (Evil Bastard Number 2), Save the World" shindig—and then makes him sit and wait around right in the middle of everything. Jensen still had adrenaline coursing through him from when he miraculously managed to escape imminent death at the hands of Roque (Evil Bastard Number 1). That survival-induced hard-on wasn't going away anytime soon.
The screen of his laptop blinked a delightful "Download Complete" message at him and his day started to get just a little bit brighter. He double-clicked the video file and started to undo the buttons on his t-shirt. This was going to be fun, and he needed that. He didn't get nearly as much fun as he thought he should. Sure blowing up bad guys and hacking into some of the most secure systems in the world was pretty awesome, but it was the simple stuff that he really enjoyed. He slipped his shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Now he just reclined as comfortably as he could in this crappy chair and watched.
About forty minutes into the video, Jensen heard a noise behind him and practically fell out of his chair when he turned around to see Cougar about three centimeters away from his back. "WOAH! I'm putting bells on you, Cowboy. BELLS!"
Cougar just smirked lightly under his hat and stared at the computer screen. "Star Wars?" he inquired.
"Yeah, so? I like Star Wars." Jensen righted himself in his chair and hit pause on his video before turning a mock-hostile glare on his friend. "How long have you been standing there, Creepy McCreeperson?"
Without answering, Cougar stepped back and hooked a finger over the brim of his hat, drawing it down over his face. The smirk faded into a defined frown, the only thing now visible beneath the hat. Jensen had seen this before, and he barely had to think "Afghanistan" before he remembered exactly where.
"What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to let the seriousness that Cougar was emanating get the best of him. "Clay find your collection of silk panties?"
It wasn't funny, and yeah, Jensen would admit not his best attempt at making light of a situation. By what he was seeing though, he was pretty sure there was no way to make light of what Cougar was feeling. "Nightmares again?"
Cougar shook his head. The way he was standing, body vibrating with movement like he wasn't comfortable in his own skin, was just wrong on so many levels. Cougs was the epitome of calm and collected. It was how he worked, the basic programming of his being. It was why Jensen always trusted him to have his back. This was weird, seeing him so out of place and uncertain. Jensen didn't like it.
"Talk to me," Jensen demanded gently.
Hesitantly, Cougar took a few silent steps to his left and lowered himself down on the foot of Jensen's bed. "You were dead," he stated.
Those words hit Jensen right in the core like a blast of ice-cold wind. A harsh shiver racked through his body. He remembered that smothering hug that Cougar had inflicted on him a few days ago in t he zodiac after he'd saved all their asses from going down with that ship. Then, it hadn't seemed like such a big deal, he was alive by the grace of a god he didn't believe in and all was good. But now he thought maybe this ran a bit deeper than he'd originally figured.
He got up and plopped down right beside Cougar on the bed. The man was probably the best friend he'd ever had, and not just in the military. Out of all the Losers, he connected with Cougar the most. They were a pair, the two of them. Jensen and Cougar, Cougar and Jensen. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him what effect his "resurrection" might have. He wanted to say something funny, he had a whole string of clever things he could pull out just to make this terribly serious moment less consuming. But for once, he didn't feel right making a joke. Not while Cougar looked like that. Instead, he tossed his arm around his friend's shoulder and sighed dismally.
"We're all dead."