A/N: Sorry for the wait; I know I promised a speedy update and haven't delivered but November has been a busy month for me, so bear with me (which I know you will) :).

The next chapter deals with something that a few of you may think of as inconceivable. I won't tell you what it is but the last few parts of the chapter are involved with this issue. I will explain it (and why I wrote it that way) in the chapter's end author notes.

Thanks to those who reviewed; keep 'em coming guys!

On with the show.

Blood of a Stranger
Chapter Six: Neutral

Balance. A pure equality of two beings. Perfect, symmetrical. Completely synchronised at a neutral point. The scales didn't tip; they didn't even move. They were perfectly still. Whatever power balanced them was potent, hot and singeing like a raging fire in the heat of the day. This power fought equally against each other, opposites for a purpose far greater than life itself. Some may have argued that it was life that this power gave; that was only half true. But all life must be born from death. Death was a state of stillness, in all fairness. Death wasn't something to be feared or dreaded; death happened to be a force equalled only by life. Those who hated their life found themselves hoping for death, yet those who enjoyed and even initiated their life seemed to forever deny death, like it were a fatal plague that would strike them down.

The irony was that those who lived their lives happy were most likely to die tragically and suddenly, while the few who hated and despised life suffered through it for a greater time than most.

Jack Harper couldn't understand why she never listened. Why she never believed him when he said he was only doing fate's work. Which was true, of course. Jack's work was to ensure the cycle of life, and death alike. He had to make sure the deaths of those he monitored went according to plan. He couldn't let anything disrupt those deaths, because fate had planned it in a particular order.

She messed up that order, disrupted it and turned it into chaos.

Jack trailed his eyes over the figure of one such chaotic mess. He watched as Jensen picked his way across the thick-laden snow, trudging his feet heavily. The younger man seemed to be deep in thought, his head down and buried until his chin found itself grating against his neck. The black shirt he was wearing was upturned at the collar. To keep out the cold, Jack guessed casually. Black pants were cold and wet at the ends, dripping water as the snow melted when he walked. The ebony trench coat hung deftly around his body, drifting in the breeze.

Watching carefully from a nearby tree, Jack wondered tentatively at the absolute aimlessness of Jensen. He didn't have any objectives anymore. He just…drifted – for the lack of a better word – through life. He didn't know where he was going, or what he was really doing. He just was.

It saddened Jack strangely. If not for Tru and her stubbornness, Jensen wouldn't be suffering in such a way. His soul had never wanted to come back. It hadn't asked to be saved from the other side. And yet Tru brought him back anyway, regardless of knowing his soul hadn't followed.

Jensen was nothing anymore. Just a body moving through life monotonously. Never knowing, never wondering, never thinking. Just doing.

In life and death, balance was everything. And balanced it would be again. Time just had to run its course. Tru just had to see for herself how life was affecting Jensen. She had to bring about his death soon, otherwise he would lose control. Jack didn't want that, he didn't need that. It would only bring more chaos to a darkly bleak situation. And things needed to be balanced.

Tru laughed. It sounded hollow and unnatural. Forced, almost. She knew she shouldn't be laughing. Not at a time like this. A time when she didn't feel safe, or satisfied with the fact that she held something over her enemy.

She knew that Jensen was alive, and that she had saved him a while back. But his behaviour was scaring her. He was distant, aloof and desiring something beyond this life. She didn't know what that was. Maybe a side effect, a consequence as Jack liked to call it. A breech of the order. Chaos.

Tyler glanced at a weary Tru with a worried look. "You seem tired today. Long night?"

Tru smiled reassuringly despite herself. "Not really. Caffeine hasn't kicked in yet."

Avery frowned and sketched something on her pad of paper roughly. "That's why you don't get addicted to that stuff. The withdrawal is hard."

Wondering curiously at the emphasis her friend played on that last word, Tru stifled a yawn and stretched her arms over the laboratory table. It was morning, pushing into the afternoon, and the three of them were sitting around one of the rooms in the campus and studying. Well, studying was not the right word. There was no right word, or at least Tru couldn't think of one.

Despite the lazy mood and the relaxed atmosphere, nothing could keep Tru from lurking back to the previous night when she had seen Jensen. Omitting the after hours meeting from the talk with her friends, Tru was left alone to mull over the eerie encounter with her assumed boyfriend.

He had seemed out of it, completely consumed by something that was not there. He hadn't responded to her calling his name, and it took a rough jerk of his arm to lure his attention. He had relayed his revelation to her, how he was no longer trying to prove himself to his father, how he no longer cared what his parental thought of him. A far cry from the Jensen she had once known.

His eyes had been cold, showing no emotion to betray his stoic stature. It had been a moonless night, no light shining on his features to offer them warmth. It was pure coldness in the chilled night.

She felt scared of what was showing through to be the person he had become. Because of her.

No, she reasoned. It couldn't be because of that. Jensen was probably going through something that had caused a reaction in him. That was all.

Then why did Tru's blood seem frozen within her veins at the thought of him?

She didn't want to think about what she may have inadvertently created. She just wanted to live in a state of numbing disbelief, an innocent ignorance. In spite of what she knew deep within herself.

Jensen's absence during the study session was noted by all of them, though it remained unspoken. It was a sort of embracing grace that silenced them. They all knew something was wrong with him, but didn't want to be the one to say it. Maybe it would all disappear into the day and not be noticed ever again. Maybe it was just a passing thing. Maybe it would go away.

Maybe.

The swinging doors were opened, white and pure against the tall figure awash in black walking through them.

Crystal blue eyes met with deep hazel ones in the poor light of the room. Just a brief encounter and one, it seemed, of pure malice. Then his eyes became warm and alight before the three of them as he sauntered into the room, his long black coat flailing behind him.

There was a fleeting silence, though it was compelling and filled the room.

Tyler was the first to speak, his voice loud and embracing. "Jensen, glad you could make it! Pull up a chair, we only just started."

"Thanks," Jensen countered with a grateful happiness, shrugging off his coat and searching for a lab coat. "Freezing outside. Nice in here, though."

He kissed Tru's cheek in a quick, fluid motion when he straightened the collar on the white lab coat. Tru smiled at him warmly and for a moment it seemed like they really were happy. That it wasn't just a pretence for a more disturbing motive.

Outwardly, Tru showed no sign of the deep confusion she was feeling. It felt like a knife twisting deep in her heart. She hadn't known why Jensen's eyes had been so cold to her. She didn't know why it all felt like an act. She didn't know why she felt so betrayed.

She turned to him, suddenly and daringly. "You're still coming tonight, aren't you?"

He frowned, confused. His eyes were warm and curious. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

She brushed off the thought with a shrug, offering another smile. "No reason."

Avery twirled the pencil between her fingers, flicking away stray blonde hairs with her other hand. "What plans befall you two tonight?"

Jensen threw his voice, deepening it and making it sound hoarse. "A night of Alfred Hitchcock."

Tyler met Jensen's eyes and the two of them laughed manically, revelling in the madness of the thought. Tru rolled her eyes while Avery feigned a yawn.

Something caught Tru's eye as she turned around. There was someone lurking around outside the room; she could see him through the small, metric windows on the doors. Something fluttered within her, excitement raged deep within her nerves.

He paced outside the room, knowing she would notice him without any effort. Jensen noticed him, too, and he threw an agitated look towards him. Tru excused herself from the group, leaving them to stare after her as she walked over to a waiting Jack Harper.

"Are you aware that loitering is a crime?" she spoke with heavy-laden sarcasm, almost like a dripping venom from her lips. The previous night was all but forgotten. Maybe it was the four straight vodka shots she had dared to throw down.

Jack ceased to pace and leaned against the wall with a casual foot. "Well aware. How is he?"

Tru glared at him, inching closer. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. I just saw him as I was walking to pick up some breakfast and noticed he looked," he paused, searching for the right few words to roll off his tongue, "not quite right."

Scoffing lightly, Tru crossed her arms over her chest. "That's none of your business."

"Well," Jack retorted with a light tone, "considering he's messing up fate's plan, I'd guess it is my business."

Her features didn't falter, her piercing look didn't give way. "Did you just come her to play word games…?"

Offering a small smirk, Jack tilted his head. "No, actually I came here to throw you a bone."

"Speak," she spoke sharply, not giving him an inch of emotion.

He spoke quickly, not wasting precious time. "I want you to think about Jensen. I want you to notice how he's been affected by you keeping him here. I want you to see what your selfishness has caused and what it might cause him to become."

"Jack," Tru said loudly, rasing her voice, "if you think you're going to beat me by using that weapon, think again. I'm not giving Jensen up. I've already done the hard part; I beat you. So go away."

"You're seeing it more clearly now, aren't you?" Jack's voice sobered, his words barely whispers. "The way he's been acting, how he looks at you now, his distance from you…it's all there, and you're seeing it."

"You don't know anything, Jack," Tru said clearly before turning around and walking back towards the large doors.

Jack smiled after her, a sad, fleeting gesture of sympathy. "I hope not. For your sake."

He watched her push the doors open and stride through, not giving him a glancing look over her shoulder. No goodbye. No thanks for the help. Just her back to him. It saddened him that she didn't listen. This problem could be fixed so much quicker otherwise. Jack gave a final look before retreating. He would make her listen, one way or another. If it took forever, he would make her listen.

It was dark, lowly and cosy. There was an eerie aura to it all, though Tru didn't mind. Jensen held her; his arms were embracing her protectively. She was against him, relying completely on him to support her. They were cuddled on her couch in front of the television, Jensen with his head over hers, his chin resting on her dark locks. They were together in a peaceful kind of harmony for the first time in months. They were happy just being there, together. There was no malice, no spite. Nothing. Just pure happiness.

A woman screamed from the screen, the black and white images depicting a time long ago. A time when treachery and murder were in their prime. It was all great entertainment, it sold and people delved right into it.

Tru's face held a scared consternation; she didn't know what was going to happen. The woman could be gunned down at any time, or stabbed to death in the dark of the woods. Tru's fingers gripped the sleeve of Jensen's shirt with a strength she hadn't known she possessed. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating.

Jensen smiled. He loved watching Tru's horrified looks and he listened contently for her worried gasps. He wasn't really watching the movie; he was watching Tru. He wanted to see her reaction to it. He wanted to anticipate how she was going to act, what looks her face would twist into, how hard her fingernails were going to dig into his skin as she gripped his arm. He felt exhilarated by it. He felt empowered.

He spoke quietly, "Do you think maybe we can choose whether or not we die?"

Tru frowned. She felt the chill creeping up her spine again. It pinched her neck and she closed her eyes. She remembered what Jack had said that day, about how Jensen was acting. His behaviour was different, but it changed. Sometimes he was the sweet Jensen he had always been. And other times Tru didn't recognise him.

She felt compelled to answer him, even though the music in the movie had increased dramatically. "I don't know. I guess we can, if we really want to."

"I'm not talking about suicide," Jensen said quickly. "I mean, if we want to die, is there any way we can will ourselves over to the other side?"

Tru felt oddly disturbed. He was scaring her again. Talking about death. It didn't make her feel safe. It wasn't a place she wanted to be. "Jensen, can we just watch the movie?"

He smiled at her pensive reply and retreated into silence again, waiting for the movie to end patiently.

Tru felt an unease seep into her and as the movie ended, she was growing anxious. She hadn't wanted the movie to end; that had been her solace.. her escape from the way Jensen was making her feel uncomfortable. She didn't want to be trapped in his web.

The credits rolled and Jensen yawned, stretching back his arms over the back of the couch. Tru turned around and smiled at him. He returned it, warmth returning to his blue eyes. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, brushing away the hair that strayed over her eyes. His hand found the back of her neck and he pulled her in, capturing her lips with a perfect grace. He wasn't rough like the night before; this time his lips were soft and warm and they rode hers slowly, passionately.

She broke the kiss gently, leaning over him. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, while his other one laced its fingers around her dark hair. She looked into his eyes; they were lustrous and full of passion. She gave him a wicked smile, playful and daring. He laughed quietly.

Her fingers were wound deftly through his shirt and she felt for the top button, twisting it free with an effortless flick. He looked at her, eyes serious. It was a silent question, but one she understood all the same. She had seen that look many times before.

She answered it with a small smile as her finger ran down the front of his chest.

They had never been there before. Had never gone that far. And it surprised him that she would give into him after feeling so insecure lately. He knew how she looked at him sceptically, with hesitant eyes and a watchful gaze.

She pulled herself up, holding his hand and leading him forward.

The snow fell hard, with a quiet vengeance in the darkness of the night. There wasn't a sound. No cars to ruin the peace, no loud, thumping music coming from the many buildings that lay strewn across the roads. None of that.

That was how Jack liked it; quiet, almost silently deafening. It was a solace to him. He would escape the daily demands by walking through the night. There was no moon; it lay hidden beneath the heavy clouds.

Jack felt a deep sinking within himself as he looked up at one particular building, one singular window. There was no light, there hadn't been much all night. Though he knew she wasn't alone.

It hurt him like nothing else. And the worst part was that he didn't even know why. Why should it affect him so much? She didn't love him. He didn't even love her. It wasn't love, it was something else. Something inexplicable. Something that would never really be complete.

Jack knew everything had to be balanced. He looked on, compelled. It wasn't cold for him this night, even though it was below freezing. He didn't feel it. He just looked on.

A/N: So I promised to explain why I put in something that some of you may think of as strange. I'm talking about Tru sleeping with Jensen. Yes, she could tell something was wrong with him. Yes, she was chilled about it. Yes, she was confused. Yes, she doesn't know what she is doing.

This will further be explained in the sequel to this story, when an event causes Tru to decline into darkness and fall apart. However, as far as sleeping with Jensen goes, Tru is in some sort of denial; she doesn't want to believe what is happening to Jensen to be true, even though deep down, she does know.

I hope that is explained somewhat throughout the story, but even if it is not, the sequel will prove it so.

Peace.