[personal profile] vinniebatman
Title: Carved
Author: [personal profile] vinniebatman
Fandom: RPS AU
Characters/Pairings: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Rating/Warnings: Teen, angst
Spoilers: None
Prompt: J2 redemption from [profile] kitty_poker1
Word Count: Out of control. This turned a bit personal for me, so....
Beta: [profile] _beetle_
Disclaimer: I make no money from this, and any ideas or writings contained in this story are pure and utter complete fabrication; this story in no way represents any sort of reality.
Author's Notes: Italics indicate text messages. Also, if you're aware of my life in the last half year, you'll realize how this story took a really personal and cathartic turn.



Jensen suppressed his sigh and rolled his eyes as his phone rang. The shrieking violins indicating Jared was the caller. He reached into his jacket pocket and quickly thumbed the "ignore" button.

"Who was that?" Mischa asked.

Jensen looked across the cafe table at his best friend, smiling weakly. He suddenly wasn't hungry for the remainder of his sandwich.

"No one."

"That ringtone was the theme to 'Psycho.' So it was definitely not no one."

"'Not no one'? I thought you had better grammar than that."

Mischa arched his eyebrow and stared pointedly.

"Fine. It was fucking him," Jensen muttered.

Mischa's gaze turned cold. "You should have let me talk to him."

Despite the down mood, Jensen chuckled. "Yeah right. If you told him half the things you've said to me, he could probably have you arrested. Besides, I told him to text me if needed something. So he can just fucking text me."

Jensen's phone rang again, the piercing tone easily audible. This time, he didn't bother to hide his reaction. "Fuck." He was pretty sure Mischa had muttered a few choice words under his breath, as well.

He hit "ignore" again and typed out a text in response.

What? Busy.

Jensen waited. Jared was a text fiend, always replying ASAP. Sure enough, his phone buzzed not even a minute later.

Can we talk? On the phone?

Jensen's lips thinned into a tight line as he typed out his response. I told you I didn't want to talk to you.

You said that three months ago.

What do you want, man?

Nevermind, Jen.

Jensen clenched his jaw and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"What did he want?" Mischa asked.

"To talk," Jensen mumbled. He grabbed a fry from his plate and tore it into pieces, avoiding Mischa's eyes.

"I'd be glad to talk to him for you," Mischa said, his voice far too nonchalant. Mischa was the most even-keeled person Jensen had ever known. So he had been shocked at the things Mischa had wanted to do to Jared.

"Yeah, I don't have enough money for bail, so no."

"I wouldn't hurt him," Mischa countered, his gaze wounded and insulted.

Jensen laughed. "No, you'd kill him."

Mischa shrugged, a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Just a little bit."

* * * * * * * * * *

In the end, carving Jared out of his life had been as easy as it had been hard. They hadn't been married, hadn't owned joint property. Jensen had just taken the things he'd bought and left. No arguments over ownership, no fights over custody. But it still hurt, every minute of every day. Waking up alone left him feeling cold, his chest hollow. Sure, Jensen got calls from his friends and family all the time; he'd even been forced to upgrade his phone plan for more minutes and unlimited text messages. But when he went to bed at night, when he got ready for work in the morning, he still felt so fucking alone. Each time he though of Jared, hurt would shoot through him, like a lightning strike, quickly followed by anger. And everything reminded him of Jared: from tall men or men with shaggy hair, to the candy the stores displayed at the checkout. But eventually, the hurt lessened and his new apartment became his home. He moved on and kept living.

But that didn't mean the anger was gone, not really.

One evening after work, Jensen walked up to his building to find Jared standing on the stoop.

Jensen clenched his jaw, the urge to scream and rant bubbling up inside him. Instead, he busied himself with checking his mail and getting into the building. Jared followed him inside, so Jensen settled on simply saying "Hey."

"Hey Jen. Just wanted to see how you are," he said, offering a thin smile.

Jensen stared, stunned. Then he laughed, the sound bitter and hollow to his own ears.

"Fuck off."

Jared's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. "Jen-."

"Don't call me that."

"Look, I know I hurt you, and I am so fucking sorry about it, but you said we could be friends."

"No, you said that, and then you said we would take a break, see where we were in few months. And then you told me it was completely over the day I moved out. So I don't really see this whole 'friend' thing happening."

Jared sighed. "I'm sorry, I just... I didn't want to drag things out."

"Then why did you say we could wait and see, let me think there was fucking chance?"

Jared's face fell, his expression sorrowful. "I didn't want to hurt you again."

"Yeah, giving me hope and then ripping it away was painless. You have no fucking clue, do you?"

Jared sighed once more, his expression pinched. "I was just trying to do what I thought was best for us, a clean break."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Jensen turned away, running a hand through his hair. He took a calming breath before turning back to Jared. "In the space of a week, you changed my entire life, and I didn't even get a fucking say. You just did what you wanted to, fuck whatever I wanted, what I thought. Then, you gave me hope, let me think we might have a chance. I loved you, despite everything, despite our problems. But that didn't matter to you; what I wanted, my opinions on the years we spent together, didn't even fucking count. Because you'd made up your mind for the both of us. That is what hurt me the most, that is what pisses me off. That is why I don't ever want to see you again," Jensen said, his throat aching from the pain of holding back his tears, his hands shaking with anger.

Jared frowned and nodded, then shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked smaller somehow. What Jensen said hurt Jared, and a small part of him was glad. He wanted Jared to hurt. But a larger part of Jensen didn't care. He didn't care what Jared wanted or felt, because it didn't matter to Jensen anymore. All of the energy and time he spent caring for and worrying about Jared was gone, and in it's place was nothing.

"I honestly don't hate you, Jared," he finally said, Jared exhaled, looking slightly relieved, even hopeful.

Jensen shook his head. No way in hell would he do that anyone, give them hope and take it away. When he spoke, there wasn't anger in his voice, just a touch of sadness that a relationship that had been the center of his life for so many years had been reduced to nothing.

"But honestly, man, I don't like you. What you did, I wouldn't tolerate that in any friend. So I don't hate you anymore, but I don't like you. I don't want to know you."

Jared stared at him, silent, before taking a shaky breath. He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he just nodded. "Okay," he whispered.

He turned and left the building, the door shutting quietly behind him. Jensen watched him go, surprised at how little emotion there was. He'd expected to feel more, but the anger was burned out, the sadness fading. Because in the end, he didn't hate Jared, he just pitied him.

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vinniebatman

June 2011

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