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Title: Red As Blood, Ch. 2
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Jared, will become Sam/Dean/Jared
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction
---
Dean told John about Jared's ability to teleport, and then detailed Jared's firsthand encounter with the big, bad and supernatural. John listened with a frown and shook his head when Dean finished.
"Never heard of anything like that, but Lawrence actually has a decent library. We can look into it tomorrow. Now, as for Sam, Missouri believes he took off on his own. She can't tell exactly where he is, but from what she's been able to pick up… Sam's not well, and she thinks he's running." John paused, reaching out to take Dean's wrist. "Missouri thinks that whatever killed your Mom is now going after Sam."
"Jesus." Dean didn't know what to make of that; it was so much worse than any worst-case-scenario he'd imagined. "Why would she think that? And why the hell didn't Sam come to us?"
John looked at him gravely. "Missouri came to the house not long after the fire. She said there was a . . . some sort of energy marking, nothing she'd seen before, but she's picked it up now . . . with Sam." He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Come on, Dean; you know I've never understood your brother like you do. Why do you think he didn't come to us?"
Dean rubbed his brow and sighed. "He's probably trying to keep us out of it to keep us safe." Anger and worry warred with frustration, and Dean lashed out, punching the table and cracking his hand. "Damn it, Sam's such an idiot!"
"Hey, take it easy." John took both of Dean's wrists, and leveled him with a look. "That's not my property you're messing with." He nodded to the map on the table. "Let's work on that game plan, okay? Like I said, Missouri can't pinpoint him, but she's picked up a couple of things that might lead to him."
---
Dean woke to the smell of bacon and . . . pancakes, maybe? He groaned and rolled over, catching himself with a grunt when he nearly fell off the air mattress. The room was filled with light, so there was no way he was going back to sleep and sometimes Dean really hated the Sun, but at least there was real food waiting for him.
He shuffled into the kitchen in sweats and a t-shirt, scratching his stomach and yawning.
"John, your boy's got nice manners. Congratulations." The woman holding a spatula seemed a little on the testy side, glaring at John indignantly over Dean's entrance.
"Sorry." John didn't seem too sorry though. He winked at Dean and gestured to the woman. "Missouri, this is Dean. Dean, Missouri's of my oldest friends."
Dean straightened up and gave Missouri a bright smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." She narrowed her eyes with a hmmph, and turned back to the stove. Dean raised his eyebrows and looked to John for a clue, but John just shrugged. "Where's Jared?"
"He's taking a shower. Thankfully, I still had some of my son's old clothes, so he'll have something clean to put on." Missouri kept her back to Dean as she spoke, and made the last bit sound like an accusation.
"Oh, that's great. We didn't have a chance to stop and get him anything. Um . . . I'm going to check on him, make sure his cuts are healing okay." Dean hastily retreated and headed upstairs. He stopped in front of the bathroom door, knocking when he realized the shower wasn't running.
"Yes?" Jared sounded pretty awake--ugh, he was probably a morning person.
"You decent? I need to check your wounds."
"One second."
Dean leaned against the wall and talked at Jared through the door. "You sleep okay?"
"Yeah," Jared answered, pulling the door open. "How about you?" Apparently he'd just finished showering; the room was full of steam, and Jared only wore a towel around his waist.
"Not even sure I slept." Dean stepped in and motioned for Jared to turn around. He was momentarily distracted by the disparity in the width of Jared's shoulders and his narrow hips. Jared was going to be a big guy when he stopped growing and filled out. He was whipcord lean and tan all over, and too damn thin. Dean's mind wandered to Sam; had he ever looked this fragile? Dean hadn't seen him in a couple of years and he wondered if Sam had finally bulked up a bit.
"Oh man, I'm sorry. Did I snore or something?" Jared looked over his shoulder worriedly, and Dean soothed him with palm pressed to his lower back.
"No Jared, it wasn't your fault." Dean tested the skin around Jared's cuts with light fingertips. The gashes had scabbed over, and they were healing well, no sign of infection. Dean hoped they wouldn't scar, it'd be a shame for that baby-fine skin to be marred.
Dean announced his findings and stepped out to let Jared dress. He went back to the kitchen, grabbed some coffee and took a seat by his dad.
"How's the kid?" John asked, handing over the sports section.
Dean took it with a grateful expression, glad to have an excuse to avoid Missouri. "Healing well, should be good as new by the time we get him home."
Jared managed to get downstairs right when the food was ready. He was still flushed from the shower, and he looked about twelve in the slightly-too-big t-shirt and jeans Missouri had supplied. Missouri smiled and loaded up Jared's plate first, patting him on the cheek and calling him sweetie. Dean tried to share a pained look with John, but he was giving Jared the same doting smile. This was really getting out of hand.
"Ms. Missouri, Dean says you're a psychic. Is that true?" Jared put a hand over his mouth, like that made it okay to speak with a mouthful of eggs.
"Baby, finish chewing before you speak." She didn't actually seemed bothered though. "Yes, it's true. I can pick up a few things here and there, but I can't read minds or anything fun like that." She winked at Jared playfully and he smiled, still covering his mouth. "How about you? I've heard you have a gift, too."
Jared obediently finished chewing before he answered. "I guess so. I can't just make it happen yet, though. I've only done it a few times, when I panicked."
Dean frowned. "Obviously you panicked when you were attacked by that invisible . . . whatever, but what else could've upset you that much?"
Jared's gaze dropped to his plate and he stabbed at his eggs, a blush rising in his cheeks. "Um, I used to have these nightmares. I'd get so worked up, not knowing it was a dream, and I'd just . . . I'd wake up somewhere else. One time it was my friend Rob's house, and the other time I woke up in the park."
Missouri made a thoughtful noise and reached over to push Jared's bangs back. "I'd like to hear more about these nightmares, but it can wait until after breakfast."
They finished eating and Dean was assigned dish-washing duty. Jared wanted to help, but Missouri wouldn't allow it, informing them that it was time for her to have a little heart-to-heart with Jared. John squeezed Dean's shoulder and followed Missouri and Jared into the living room.
---
Dean finished the dishes and headed after the others. When he reached the doorway to the living room though, he stopped short. Jared was sitting on the couch and Missouri was sitting in a chair she'd pulled up in front of him. She had Jared's hands and was leaning in, speaking in low, soothing tones, and Jared was crying.
Dean walked over to John, hissing, "What the hell is this?"
"Calm down, Missouri's just hypnotized him. She's trying to find out more about his nightmares." John motioned for Dean to sit, but Dean just frowned and moved closer to Jared.
"He can't hurt you, baby." Missouri's eyes flicked to Dean in warning, stay back. "Jared, does he have a name?"
"No, no, n--I don't know!" Jared whimpered pitifully, rocking and crying, and drawing Dean like a magnet. Dean ignored Missouri, sitting next to Jared and pulling him close.
"Shhh, it's okay. Dean's here now, we're with you, Jared. You don't need to be scared." Her eyes softened as Jared tucked his snotty face into Dean's neck, and Dean's heart did a weird little jump. His grip on Jared tightened involuntarily. "What does this yellow-eyed man want from you?"
"I don't know. He just says I'm like him, like the other boy he wants. Says I'm close enough . . . " Jared trailed off with a shuddering sigh.
"Jared, what do you say to that? What do you say to him?"
"I say no--I don't want anything to do with him! Stop it, stop it!" Jared was losing it, and Dean glared at Missouri.
"That's enough, isn't it?" He demanded.
"Yes, it's enough for now." She leaned in to speak into Jared's ear. After a moment Jared tensed in Dean's hold and then turned and wrapped Dean in his lanky arms, burrowing in with a heavy sigh.
Dean rocked him, stroking his hair and muttering soothing nonsense. He looked over and found John watching with a stricken expression. Dean understood, and reluctantly pushed Jared back. He held that achingly familiar face, thumbing Jared's tears away, and tried to smile.
"You okay, buddy?"
"Yeah, I . . . I don't even know what happened. I just had the most horrible feeling. Oh God, did I do that to your shirt?" The poor guy looked mortified as he gestured to the soaked neckline of Dean's t-shirt.
"Don't worry about it, I think I'll recover." Dean smiled and Jared quirked his lips in return, no dimples though.
"John, I'm going to need your help with something outside." Missouri spoke from the doorway, and Dean knew they were going to talk about whatever was going on with Jared. Dean wanted to be part of that conversation, but he wasn't about to leave Jared; he was too shaken up. "You boys can watch television."
"Thank you." Jared scooted forward to pick up the remote and Dean let himself sink back into the couch.
There were a box of tissues on the coffee table and Jared helped himself, blowing his nose obnoxiously. Dean laughed and patted him on the shoulder.
He'd give the grown-ups a few minutes to talk, but then he was going after them--they needed to get moving. Jared sat back, settling close to Dean and Dean fought off a stupid grin. He remembered this; being needed. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until he'd had Jared clinging to him.
Jared turned the TV on, but Dean noticed that he was just staring down at his hands. Dean brushed a hand over the back of his neck and left it there. At the touch, Jared's eyes darted over to him.
"What's up, Jared?"
Jared dropped his head and Dean moved his hand up into Jared's fine, short hair, kneading away the tension. Jared sighed again, closing his eyes and smiling a little. "Thanks Dean, I'm just stuck with that feeling. Must be whatever Ms. Missouri pulled up, feels like . . . the way I used to feel when I had those nightmares. It's stupid, I'll be fine in a little while. Don't worry about it."
Dean opened his mouth to argue, but John interrupted. "Dean, we need to talk to you. Sorry Jared, but it's about Sam."
Dean let Jared go and followed John out, throwing a be right back over his shoulder.
Missouri was waiting on the porch, and she scowled at Dean as soon as she saw him. "Dean, don't coddle that boy! We were doing fine before you came in."
"Jared was crying, I don't think that's 'fine'. Anyway, he's had a rough couple of days, maybe he needs to be coddled." Dean made a face as he spoke; he didn't think he'd ever used that word before . . . coddled--it was unnatural.
She huffed, but let it drop. "Well, you're not going to like this, but it looks like the same thing that's come after your family is after Jared. That same darkness has touched Jared, and I think his rejection must have made it pretty angry. That's why it's trying to kill him now."
---
They headed out that afternoon; John took his truck while Dean and Jared followed in the Impala. Missouri said she'd gotten a few impressions when she focused on Sam's location, and it seemed he was in the southwest, maybe Arizona or New Mexico.
They'd had to fill up before they headed out and Jared took the opportunity to stock up on candy. John had looked on disbelievingly as Jared put a pile of sweets in front of the cashier, and scowled when Dean actually bought them for him.
"Dean, you planning on giving Jared back to his parents without teeth?"
"Dad, it's the only thing that keeps him quiet for more than five seconds." Dean had only wished he was joking.
They'd been on the road for half an hour when the candy failed to be enough to keep Jared entertained. Dean watched in dread as Jared's delicate, long-fingered hand reached for his radio dial. After he'd turned down Dean's favorite tape, Jared curled his lanky frame towards Dean and Dean began a mental countdown, three . . . two . . .
"What's Sam like?" Jared blurted, working enthusiastically on his latest Now and Later. Resigned to his fate, Dean found himself grinning. Jared had become really interested in Sam since they'd gotten around to showing him pictures.
"He's a total nerd, bad sense of humor, and even worse taste in music."
Jared snorted. "Right, I'll make sure to let him know you said that. Anyway, I'm a nerd too, so I'd probably like him."
"Wait, I thought you said you were on the basketball team?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"So you can't be a nerd." Dean needed things to be a certain way, and didn't appreciate Jared messing with his absolutes.
"Dean, I'm on the debate team and I'm in drama." Jared seemed to be enjoying this way too much, waiting for Dean's reaction with a smile perched at the corner of his mouth.
Dean felt his face contort in horror. "You're in drama?"
"Yep. And debate and the basketball team. Are you going to be okay with that?"
"Oh god, maybe you are a Sam clone. Sammy was in drama in high school, too. You people scare me." Dean was only half-joking.
"Really?" Jared leaned over, suddenly breathless in excitement. "What plays did he do? We just did Guys and Dolls--" and that was pretty much where Dean tuned him out.
---
Things got a little more interesting as they were heading into Texas, a little north of the border on 54. It was around dusk and Dean's mind was still on Sam. Jared was quiet, looking out the side window and gnawing on a Snickers bar. Suddenly the car in front of John's truck slammed on its brakes, causing Dean and John to follow suit.
Jared yelped and Dean cursed, turning the wheel hard as he could to avoid slamming into John's truck. He fishtailed and side-swiped the truck, but amazingly enough neither vehicle flipped. They came to a halt not too far off the road.
"What the hell was that?" Jared gasped, clinging to the dashboard for dear life.
Dean blinked at him a couple of times, trying to rein in his own panic. "I have no idea." He noticed a dark smudge next to Jared's mouth and darted forward to grip his face. Dean brushed the spot lightly and frowned when it came off completely. He sniffed his hand and laughed shortly. "You would bleed chocolate."
Jared wasn't laughing though, his mouth drawn tight as he raised a shaky hand to Dean's temple. "That has to hurt." His hand came away coated in blood and Dean turned to the rear view mirror. He had a shallow gash at his hairline.
"Nah, it's not bad." He got out of the car and saw that John was already checking on the driver of the red Prius that had caused the near pile-up.
Dean was a few feet away when the door of the Prius flew open, knocking John to the ground.
"Hey!" Dean pulled his gun faster than thought, ducking behind the rear of the car.
A young man with eyes as black as pitch stepped out, he was also armed and his gun was trained on John. "Dean, put down your gun."
How the hell did this guy know his name? "Fuck," he muttered, glancing back at the Impala. Thankfully Jared was no where to be seen. "Dad? You all right?"
"Dean, it's a demon. Do what it says." Great, Dean could work with that. He kept a vial of holy water and a rosary in his jacket. He heaved a theatrical sigh and slowly stood, tossing the gun in front of the demon.
It smiled at him brightly. "Now we just need the third member of your party to join us." It raised its voice. "You! Get out of the car."
When there was no movement from the car, the demon shrugged, turned and shot John in the leg. He shrieked and Dean lunged forward, but the damn thing was fast. It brought the butt of its gun down on Dean's already-wounded temple and he hit the ground, hard.
It shook its head as John moaned and gripped at his lower leg. It turned back to the Impala. "I said, get out of the car!"
After a couple of seconds, the passenger door opened and Jared stepped out on shaky legs, walking forward with his hands raised. The demon made a surprised noise. "Oh, this is my lucky night." It gestured Jared closer and leaned in to pet him, stroking his hair and face. "You've been a very bad boy, Jared, and someone wants to make sure you're sorry."
"Get off me!" Jared pulled his head back, but it gripped his shoulders and pulled him tighter.
"Don't touch him, you fucker!" Dean struggled to stand and Jared broke away from the thing, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist to pull him up. Dean had to shake off the dizziness, had to get that freakin' vial. He let Jared take most of his weight as he spoke. "What do you want with us, anyway?"
"You two," it gestured at Dean and his dad, "are just in the way, so I have to get rid of you. Jared, on the other hand, we're not done with him." It smiled at Jared. "You'll be coming with me. I think we're going to take another crack at persuading you to see our side of things."
"Bullshit." Dean flung the holy water in its face and pushed the rosary against its chest as it screamed. "Jared! Get my dad into the car, go!"
Dean retrieved his gun and shot the writhing creature a few times as Jared got John into the backseat of the Impala. The thing finally stopped moving, and Dean grabbed a couple things out of his dad's truck before cutting the brakes on both vehicles. He rushed back to the Impala and hit the road. They weren't stopping until they were out of gas.
---
Shortly after they'd left the accident scene, Dean called Bobby and told him what happened. Bobby knew someone who'd be able to pick up John's truck and hold it until they could get back for it. John was able to direct Jared's attempt to patch up his leg, and by the time they pulled into a Motel 6 in Albuquerque, Dean was feeling a little better about their situation.
Jared helped him get John into the room and settled onto one of the beds. In fact, Jared did everything Dean asked, without hesitation--it was a little disconcerting. Dean glanced over at Jared as he worked on his dad's leg. John was out because Dean had given him a healthy dose of Vicodin, but Jared . . . Jared was perched on the opposite bed, strung as tight as a wire, not twitching and not saying a word.
"Jared, how you doing?" Dean bit his lip as he returned his focus to John's wound, the bullet was lodged next to the bone, but had missed anything vital. Thankfully, Dean was good at multi-tasking. "Jared? You there?"
"Oh, um. Yeah."
"You all right?" Dean closed the forceps carefully, got a solid hold and slowly pulled the bullet out.
"Yeah." Jared's voice was tight with emotion, and Dean wondered if they had something in the bag they could give him. He'd probably be okay after he slept.
"Why don't you go ahead and shower?" He saw Jared nod out of the corner of his eye, and felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders when the bathroom door shut. Dean just didn't know how to handle Jared, and the demon's words kept running through his head. They weren't through with the kid? What all had they done to him up till now? Was there more that Jared hadn't told him?
He finished cleaning up John's leg and wiped him down with a washcloth before tucking him in. Jared came out a few minutes later in a t-shirt and boxers. He didn't say anything to Dean, just climbed under the covers with his back to the lamp.
"Jared, you mind if I take the comforter for the floor?"
"What?" He rolled over and looked at Dean, brow furrowed.
"Just so I have more cushion."
"Oh. I thought . . . yeah, sure." He seemed upset about it though, weird kid.
"Thanks." He made his bed on the floor between the two actual beds and then headed for the shower. Jared had turned the light off by the time Dean was through in the bathroom. Dean got settled in the dark, and didn't realize how banged up he was until he was stretched out on the floor. His body hurt.
In spite of the pain, he'd almost drifted off when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. "Dean." Jared whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Can you just--can you sleep up here? Please?" The kid sounded about ten, all shaky and scared.
Dean got up with a heavy sigh, bones creaking. "Sure, the floor wasn't doing my body any favors anyway." He settled next to Jared and wasn't too surprised to find himself wrapped in lanky boy limbs, almost immediately. He returned the embrace, feeling fine tremors racking Jared's lean frame. "Hey buddy, what's wrong?"
Jared just shook his head, pushing his face into Dean's shoulder. Dean ran one hand up into Jared's still damp hair, and stroked his back with the other, trying to stem the shaking. Jared shifted and hitched his leg over Dean's hips, plastering himself to Dean completely. Dean tensed, he didn't want to upset Jared by pushing him back, but Dean was pretty sure the pressure against his hip was Jared's cock.
Jared made a little noise and suddenly his mouth was touching Dean's neck, and Dean understood what was happening. "Jared, you can't--"
"Please, Dean." He spoke against the sensitive skin at the base of Dean's throat, and the brush of warm breath was followed by the tip of Jared's tongue. Dean shivered and moved his grip to Jared's arms. He firmly set Jared back on his side of the bed, holding him there when Jared strained to follow him.
"I know you're scared. I know what you think you need, but I can't . . . I can't help you with that. I'm sorry." Dean touched Jared's cheek lightly as he spoke and Jared turned into the touch with a broken noise, and Dean's stomach dipped. "Baby, no. You're too young."
Jared pulled Dean's head down and spoke into his ear, heated and desperate. "Dean, please. I'm not asking you to . . . to fuck me, I just need--will you just touch me, please?"
Dean bit his lip and pressed his forehead to Jared's. "I can hold you, but that's it--"
Jared's mouth was pressed to his before Dean finished that thought, licking and biting. Dean's eyes clenched tightly as he fought to remain impassive, let the kid wear himself out, but Jared's mouth was so sweet, so hot. Jared wrapped his leg around Dean again and pulled him into the cradle of his bony hips, rocking into Dean sharply with a soft groan.
"Dean please, please. Just touch me, I'll never ask again and we'll forget about it. Please--" Jared's need was more than Dean could resist, and he wrapped his arms around Jared with a sigh, letting Jared have his mouth.
Dean rolled them and pushed Jared back into the pillows, slowing the kiss and slipping his hand into Jared's boxers. He swallowed Jared's cry and jerked him off as quickly as he could. Jared bucked into Dean's touch and gasped into his mouth, and Dean felt the rush like an electric shock. Jared's hips stuttered and he soaked Dean's hand in release.
"Dean," Jared was breathless and his body utterly relaxed, finally. He nuzzled Dean's neck and sounded drunk as he thanked Dean. "You're so--you're amazing, Dean. I don't want to go home, I don't want to leave you. I never want to go." His voice trailed off into sleep and Dean was able to disentangle himself and make a run to the bathroom.
He shut the door quietly and faced the mirror dumbly, the horror of what he'd done sinking in; Dean Winchester, pedophile. Dean sank to the floor and wondered how he could possibly face his dad or Jared in the morning. If he survived that, what would happen when he saw Sam again?