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#agent ackles and padalecki
deanstryker · 1 month
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The Winchester Brothers as FBI Agents - My Edit
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lol-jackles · 5 months
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do you really believe that jared is a better actor than jensen?
specially in the l few seasons?
his name is the first on the call sheet” you guys go around with this like it’s his saving grace , jennifer aniston’s name was the first but if it weren’t for characters like Monica and Chandler no one would have watched that show .
I don’t have anything against jared , but his fans are so bitter and they can’t praise him without belittling jensen,his acting, his looks, his wife, or even his a*s
body shaming him won’t make jared better.
I’m sorry you had a rough time with jensen’s bitter stans , but boy oh boy try seeing jared bitter stans talk about jensen (without engaging) with them , you could physically taste their hate
Jared is a character actor. People like to say character actors are "better actors" than personality actors, however there is a reason why character actors are usually not leads in movies or tv shows because most people actually prefer personality actors, which Jensen is good at. Jared is a character actor trapped in a leading man role.
Jared's first on the call sheet isn't a saving grace, it's facts, and it gets brought up more by Ackles Army than Jared fans. Why? Butthurts, Anon, all butthurts. You got to read this treasure. In the early days of SPN, AAs tried to downplayed first billings ....
AAs 2005: “The only reason why this Jared guy has first billing is because the ‘a’ in Jared comes before the ‘e’ in Jensen.”   
AAs 2007: "Jared only got first billings because he was better known thanks to Gilmore Girls."
AAs 2008: "Jensen is the real star, this credit order business only happened because of their agents, and Jensen's agent was asleep at the wheel."
AAs 2009: "Billing order is of no importance, both Jensen and Jared have top billings."
AAs 2011 through 2017: “Jared has top billings only because the ‘a’ in Jared comes before the ‘e’ in Jensen.”
Newbie fans: "But doesn't Ackles comes before Padalecki in the alphabet?"
AAs: "Shut up Jared stans! Why do you hate Dean so much?!"
AAs 2021: "Dean was originally supposed to die by the end of the 1st season, that's the only reason why Jared's name was first".
The bitter AAs hate that the first billing t hing because it was evidence of Jared’s success at an earlier age than Jensen’s.   The only reason why Jared’s fans bring up his first billing because they know how much it needles and aggravates the AAs who just won't let it go and keep bringing it up, if not more than the Jared girls do.
Jared fans stay in their lane when they're on a bash bender and don’t actively tag actors and their fans their hate. AAs (and Destiel hellers) aggressively and relentlessly tag Jared and his fans their hate. See the difference? AAs, minions, and hellers would go into Jared’s SM to send threats of violence and even death. Jared fans don't return the favor and stay out of actors' SM. Sure they’ll take screenshots to laugh about it in their own TL or blogs and tag it “anti”, but again they’re not sending their hate directly to Jensen. See the difference?
I've never body shamed Jensen what the hell are you talking about?
Whenever Anons tell me that Jared fans are just as bad as AAs and hellers, I always ask for receipts. I'm still waiting for them to pony up the receipts years later. Anon, you could be the first! I'll be right here waiting for your receipts of Jared fans sending public threats of violence and death to Jensen on twitter, intagram, and tick tock. You know your mission, now go!
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Won't Leave You Alone
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Summary: Y/N is lost without her mom, grief is pulling her under and overwhelming her life. She doesn't want to deal with anything. What can Jensen and Jared do to help?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: TW talk of parental death and grief. Reader has lost her mother. Mentions of depression, anger, and deep grief.
Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader
Word Count: 1,622
A/N: As a follow up to my story, What Do You Say, I had a request from the same follower, asking to do a story about the reader being depressed, not eating, and not being able to work after her mother's death, and how the boys come to help her. I'll keep the reader and their complete request private, but I'm thinking of you, sweetie, and hope this helps at least a little.
A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen (and Jared) from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with his real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊
The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist || Tag Lists
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Y/N heard her apartment door open down the hall, but she wasn’t worried. Even though they hadn’t been invited, she knew exactly who was entering her apartment even before they made their way to her bedroom door - the same two people who had been texting her and calling her all day, the only other two people with a key. 
Jensen called out to her as he walked down the hallway. “Y/N! Sweetheart, it’s just us. I texted to say we were coming by. Did you get it?”
I got it. Y/N thought sullenly.
“You haven’t texted back today,” Jared’s booming voice was easily identifiable, “we were worried. Why haven’t you texted back?”
Because I want to be left alone.
She could hear one of them knocking gently on her bedroom door, and she hoped they’d leave when they found it empty.
“Y/N?” Jensen said softly and she could hear her bedroom door squeak open. She knew the room would be dark and deserted, she hadn’t slept there in days. 
She’d spent every moment of the last week, engulfed in her mom’s big king-sized bed. It had been nearly two months since her mom died, and her scent - a soft, sweet vanilla scent - was starting to fade from Y/N’s life. But her mom’s room had remained untouched, and, as a result, the homey smell still lingered there, in her bedsheets, blankets, and pillows. So Y/N’d made herself a little cocoon out of them, and ensconced herself inside it. 
“Shit.” Jensen swore. “She’s not here, Jared. What the fuck?”
She heard the panic in his voice and guilt overrode her annoyance and desperation to avoid the world. She called out from behind the door across the hall. 
“I’m in here.” 
She said it quietly, half hoping they wouldn’t hear it. But in seconds the door to her mom’s room was opening and the two giants walked in. The apartment was on the small side and the bedrooms reflected that. So the two towering men seemed distinctly out of place in her mom’s smallish, very feminine bedroom. Her mom’s tastes had run along the lines of pastels and pillow shams, and Jensen and Jared, in their plaid and denim, contrasted sharply. 
When they finally caught sight of her in the dimly lit room, wrapped up completely in her mom’s blanket she could see the brief relief that spread across their faces, before worry set in again. 
“Hey, kiddo.” Jared said quietly, moving to sit beside her on the bed and pull her into a side hug. Jensen sat on the other side of her, facing her, and gave her a soft smile. 
“We texted you a bunch of times today, why didn’t you answer?”
Y/N shrugged. She didn’t want to answer, didn’t know how. But she could feel her annoyance bubbling up inside her, as it had been all week. 
The boys hadn’t left her alone. All she’d wanted, when she told her agent, Melanie, to tell the show that she needed time off, was to fall off the face of the earth for a while. She just wanted to succumb to the darkness that seemed to permeate her life these days. She was so sick and tired of smiling and performing as though her heart was still beating like normal, as though her world wasn’t shattering around her. 
But she hadn’t been able to disappear. She’d had messages and phone calls daily from the boys, and from other castmates and friends. There were lawyers calling her, and Melanie too, all working on her behalf, trying to get her emancipated so she could live on her own and not have to go live with her Auntie Bev in Seattle, or become a ward of the state. She didn’t want to leave Vancouver, and she was nearly 17 years old; it was ridiculous to consider putting her in a foster home for barely a year.
It was all just too much; she was so tired of thinking, tired of trying to figure out the next step, tired of faking normalcy. She needed quiet, rest…she needed nothingness for a while. 
And she needed to scream.
She could feel it like a bubble in her chest, could feel the frustrations and fears and overwhelming sadness rising up like air in her lungs.
“Y/N.” Jensen said with a bit of a frown at her prolonged silence. “You have to talk to us.”
Y/N clenched her fists in her mom’s blanket. “There’s nothing to talk about, okay? I’m fine. Sorry I missed your texts, I was just sleeping.”
Jensen gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her and she gritted her teeth. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jared answered. “Y/N, honey, we know you’ve barely been sleeping, you’ve barely been eating too.”
“What?” Y/N asked angrily. “You don’t know that!”
“You’re skin and bones.” Jensen said quietly. “And your face is exhausted and gaunt. Y/N we know you’re struggling.”
Y/N scoffed. “Okay, whatever.” 
“What does that mean?” Jensen questioned with a frown. 
“It means, I don’t want to talk about this.” Y/N said, in a warningly low tone.
“Y/N -”
“It means leave me the fuck alone!” She screamed. And once the seal on her emotions was broken, they all came spilling out. 
“It means I took time off to get the fuck away from everyone, yet you’re all still here, you’re all still demanding answers, and I don’t have any! I don’t know anything, I don’t know where I want to live, or what I want to do about work. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I don’t know if I’ll be back. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I don’t know how I’m doing. I. Have. No. Answers! So, just get out and leave me alone!”
The ensuing silence was pulsing with energy, and echoing with her angry screams. She was panting heavily, like she’d run a marathon, and she felt a slowly dawning embarrassment. Surely Jared and Jensen would leave now, and tell everyone that she’d cracked. 
Jensen moved closer and took her face in his big hands. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t do that, I won’t leave you alone.” He looked at Jared and then back into her eyes. “We won’t leave you alone. We promised, remember?”
A noisy, broken, choked sound came out of Y/N’s throat, and then another. She shook her head harshly. “I’m fucking everything up.” She said, her words jagged and uneven, spit out between ugly sobs. “I’m letting everyone down. The show, Melanie, you, Auntie Bev, everyone. I’m failing.”
Jensen moved forward to hug her from the front and Jared pulled her tighter into his side so that she was in a kind of L-shaped hug sandwich. After a minute or two of letting her sob, Jensen pulled back to brush her tears away with his fingertips, and push her oily hair back behind her ears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d showered and she suddenly felt gross. 
But Jensen pressed his lips to her forehead and Jared kissed the top of her head, clearly not concerned or bothered by her recent abandonment of proper hygiene. 
Jensen looked into her eyes again, snaring her attention. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You are not failing. And you are not letting anyone down.”
He took her hands and squeezed them. “People are calling and texting you because they’re worried, and just want to know you’re safe. All we need back is a simple, ‘Bad day, but I’m here.’ or ‘I just need to be alone, I’ll text you later.’ We don’t need you to explain anything to us, or apologize, or make any kind of excuse. We all understand the enormous grief you’re experiencing, and the adjustments you’re dealing with, sweetheart, and we don’t expect anything from you.”
“Exactly.” Jared agreed. “And people are only asking you questions because they want to take care of you, and help you in whatever way they can. But, you can only give us what you’re capable of that day, and that is perfectly okay. And if anyone you talk to ever suggests differently? Well, you just let us know, and WE will deal with them and their attitude.”
Y/N sniffled and nodded. “Okay.” She said gently. “I’m sorry I yelled at you and swore at you.” She said to Jensen and then turned her head to include Jared in her apology. “Both of you.” 
But he just shook his head. “No, baby girl, you don’t owe us any apologies.” He smiled his deep-dimpled smile and it made the room a little brighter. “You go ahead and feel free to scream at us anytime you’re frustrated and angry.”
Jensen nodded and banged his chest twice, like an angry gorilla. “Yeah, we’re tough, we can take it.”
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, though it was a watery one. 
Jensen shifted to sit on the other side of her, so that she was tucked up comfortably between them both, warmed by them. 
“We’re gonna be here,” Jensen said as he adjusted the pillows behind his back, “no matter what. But we promise that we’ll be more than happy to simply let you cry, or scream, or sleep, or read, or dance to loud music, or watch awful movies, or walk in the park, or lay without moving, or play board games, or talk about your mom, or not talk about anything, or talk about everything.”
The boys squished her tight and she felt their love pressed into her. 
“Whatever you need, however you need it…” Jensen told her.
“We’re here.” Jared promised. 
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1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @nt-multi-fandom @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester
3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @sunshineandwings86 @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26
4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @awkward-and-indecisive @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @b3autyfuldisast3r @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @mysherlock221b @jensensgotyoudean @stixnstripesworld @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @norman1967 @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @b-i-t-c-h-i-e @twirpbunwarrior @mysweetlittledesire @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous
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tiktaalic · 8 months
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trying to think of all the showrunners in spn and the in text references.
eric. he didnt do any references to himself. someone said can we make john's middle name oyur name. and he said who give a shit. and they said. can we kill you on television. and he said great! and then they said. agents singer and kripke. but he was working for amazon by then. but he did write in and immeidatley kill his girlfriend? so he was power tripping a little and als o definitely wroking thru issues of i was a bullied nerd but none of this resulted in name dropping.
sera. there was the episode where no one took her seriously as a showrunner and she experienced misogyny written by ben edlund. there was the campbell cousin who was almost certainly a self insert who just went around calling dean a pussy before she got killed. there was the s15 dig about leviathans being stupid but that wasnt her that wrote that.
carver. carver edlund. next. wait actually its kind of funny that jeremy carver was the one who brought back chuck named after him and said he's god for realsies
edlund. carver edlund. next.
dabb. i dont think theres any in your face dabb self inserts or name drops or episode references. i think. dont quote me on this. i think the only one is that in 15.19 in the background a shop is named dabb's pies or something.
singer. honorary mention. well not honorary but you know. not a showrunner. an executive producer. the only name besides jensen ackles and jared padalecki to slog all the way from season one to season 15. fan favorite character bobby singer. french mistake director robert singer. agent singer. i have collected all this data now someone synthesize it to say something about society
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sapphyreopal5 · 5 months
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Jared Padalecki/Sam Winchester: Born to Be Bad? Interview snippets
These are some tidbits from the "Born to be Bad?" interview exclusive with Jared Padalecki and Kate Lloyd to the Supernatural Magazine's 5th issue published in Aug/Sept 2008, pages 10 to 16. [x]
"Just before she blows I the police station to hell in Jus In Bello, Lilith has a query I for Agent Henrikser and Nancy. “Excuse me. I'm looking for two brothers? One’s really tall and one’s really cute." While the majority of Supernatural fans would argue that both Winchester brothers are really cute, It's only when you meet Jared Padalecki In the flesh that you fully understand why the writers went for that particular characteristic of Sam's, rather than say, his dimples or his floppy hair. When the actor stands to greet The Official Supernatural Magazine In the downstairs bar of the exclusive Brown’s Hotel in London, we can’t help but notice that he goes up and up… and up. (He’s also extremely cute, but that always was a given.)"
Interesting Ruby goes on to talk about how one is really tall and one is really cute in this episode. Even though both of them [Jared and Jensen] are handsome men, it does seem that this reflects how a lot of the fandom see the two of them. I wonder if this is one reason why Jared has said things like he's the scary one and Jensen is the good looking one (paraphrasing here), and seems to put himself down quite often. I don't know why but I find it quite interesting that this line was in the episode Jus in Bello when Jared did have one of his meltdowns while in Italy for a Jus in Bello con back in May 2015.
Born to Be Bad?
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"Dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt, with his hair swept back under a bandana, Padalecki is in the UK as part of a two-day whirlwind press tour Following the media blitz, he and his girlfriend (and now fiancée) Sandra McCoy, are heading to Barcelona and Paris for a romantic European vacation. As Supernatural Magazine settles down onto the sofa opposite Padalecki, we’re surprised to learn that despite having only been in the country for 48 hours, the happy couple have already managed to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing.
"After we landed, we forced ourselves to stay awake and went to Stonehenge," explains Padalecki in his distinctive Texan drawl. “It was much smaller them I thought, I still thought it was cool and creepy and eerie, but it was smaller than I thought and I was disappointed by [its] proximity to the highway. I [felt like I] could throw a stone from the street and topple it. “There was one point when I was about to take a picture and there was a rainbow in the background,” he continues with a chuckle. “I thought, ‘Cool, I can make it look like it’s coming out of Stonehenge. I went around the back and started to line up the shot with my camera. I was zooming in and zooming out, and I got down [on the ground] and I swear to God, right as I was trying to center it, a double-decker bus drove past. It was just so funny, because there I was at this centuries-old monument and suddenly there was a [modem day] double-decker bus!"
Jared also stated “It would be a great setting for a Supernatural episode” in this story.
Three and Easy
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"Hey, what about this?’ Yes!' ‘How about this?’ ‘Yes!’ They were knocking it out of the park, so it was tough when we had to stop because we finally felt like we not only getting somewhere, but [we were] getting there fast." Padalecki is, of course, referring to the writers’ strike that saw production on Supernatural, as well as virtually every other TV show in America, grind to a halt for more than three months. Thankfully the strike was eventually resolved, but it did mean that Supernatural's third year had to be cut from 22 episodes to 16. Despite the shortened season, however, Padalecki was thrilled with the surprising direction many of the episodes took, and also the opportunities the year as a whole presented to both he and Jensen Ackles as actors."
"'I talked with Eric Kripke about where [we were] going during the shooting of A Very Supernatural Christmas' Padalecki reveals. “He came up to Vancouver to have a discussion with Jensen and myself about where we were going to go, what we thought, what we felt, and whether we had any ideas. He excited me, because he talked about really [exploring) the dark side of Sam and Dean. We've seen their relationship and how they are so close, and how they live off each other, and Eric kind of hinted that wanted to see what would be like if the brothers really started to butt heads."
Now this paragraph from this section of this magazine interview caught my eye for a couple reasons. One, it seems that Jared is referencing to the time Kripke came up to Vancouver around the time Jared had his breakdown on the set of Supernatural back in 2007. According to some Redditors, Kripke had a very unpleasant conversation with Jared around this time [while season 3 was filiming], NOT just about ideas pertaining to "the dark side of Sam and Dean"... or should I say Jared "threw a hissy fit" according to one of the Redditors.
Two, I mentioned a tarot reading I did per an anonymous ask I received from a so called "tinhatter" last month here and did mention this breakdown in 2007. One of the cards in this reading was the 3 of cups and brought up one of the meanings being "three's a crowd". I noticed this section of the magazine interview is called "Three and Easy". It seems this meltdown was the start of Jared being perceived as unreliable on the set. Maybe this conversation was actually Kripke hinting he was contemplating having Sam Winchester aka Jared Padalecki leave the show in the name of "exploring the dark side of Sam and Dean". Hmmm...
More from this section...
"The shoot-first-ask-questions later Sam Winchester we saw in season three certainly was a far cry from the reluctant soldier who questioned every kill in seasons one and two, most noticeably in the episodes Jus In Bello and Time Is On My Side, when it seemed as if Sam was prepared to risk anything and everything - even the lives of innocent men and women - to save his brother."
This tidbit also caught my eye for another reason. I don't know if you're familiar with my blog or not but I write a lot about divine blueprints, divination, etc. Based on the context of this particular magazine interview, I do believe that the content in this magazine article was unknowingly predicting Jared's second publicized breakdown in May 2015 while he was overseas in Italy for a Jus in Bello con. It was reported he went to a watch museum in Geneva "to clear his head". Interesting coincidences if you ask me...
Girl Power
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"Being on the road as much as they are, the Winchester brothers seldom have time to form any meaningful relationships, and this was especially true of Sam in year three. In fact, his only real dalliance with the fairer sex during that season was in Dream A Little Dream Of Me, when he had a naughty fantasy about Bela (of all people).
"That scene came right after the holidays, and they were like. 'Hey, you're going home for Christmas and stuff, but don’t eat too much because you have a sex scene two weeks after you get back,"’ recalls Padalecki with a chuckle. "I’m like, 'C’mon, how can you do that to me?' because I like nothing more than going home for the holidays and gorging.
“I remember Lauren coming up to me and saying [adopts posh English accent], I hear we have a saucy scene,'” he continues. “And I’m like [adopts posh English accent again], 'Oh, do we have a saucy scene?’ I love that word, ‘saucy,’ It wasn't that saucy a scene, but it was a little saucy. That’s a really funny episode, and it’s clever how it’s done. The guy who directed that episode, Steve Boyum, also directed Crossroad Blues, and we really like his work. He makes really interesting episodes. He’s very good and very hardworking, and a lot of fun to have on set."
Fan Tribute
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“It's so nice to be part of a [series] that people are watching because they actually enjoy the show. I know people who watch Grey's Anatomy because their friends at work watch Grey's Anatomy. It’s almost like a book club. So if you’re missing these gigantic shows [to watch Supernatural], which are also good shows, but if you're missing Grey's Anatomy and Lost and CSI and House, it’s because you really are a fan of the show, and that’s so humbling and flattering. “Supernatural might not be as successful as Lost or CSI or any of those, but the people who know the show are fans of Jared and myself,” Padalecki concludes. “That means a lot, because I know some people who can’t tell you a single actor on CSI even though they watch it every week.'"
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Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench
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Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.
That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex
Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench
Word Count: 5279
Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.
This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!
Masterlist
Nightingale Masterlist
     Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy.  You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you.  Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry.  Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.
     “Y/N?  Sweetheart?  The play is starting…”
     The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine.  Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air!  Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall.  He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves.  And the fall of golden hair.
     Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N!  Baby?!” 
     He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled.  Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.
     Dead.  He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you!  The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig. 
     “Shit!”  Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room.  He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.
      “Solomon.”
      “She’s gone!  She’s gone, you son of a bitch!  You said she was safe!”
     “We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.” 
      “Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body!  He’s got her!  Fuck!”
      “Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background. 
      He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”
      “That’s an order, Ackles!  I need details, not another missing person.  I have agents converging on your location.”
      Jensen ended the call and tried your number.  It rang several times then went to voicemail.  “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on.  I’m coming.  I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”
       Consciousness came to you in fragments.  Different parts of your body were numb.  There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long.  Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet.  Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere.  An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat.  Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard.  It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window. 
     You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”
     This wasn’t Jensen’s car.  The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun.  An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties.  The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench.  The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.
     “Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they?  That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine.  Administered through absorption through the skin.  Remarkable.  It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”
     Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted.  Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York.  Large, hawk-like nose.  Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes. 
     “Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin.  “Hate for you to miss out.”
     He was right.  You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes.  You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head.  You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you.  In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd.  Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you. 
     You forced your mind to focus.  Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them.  You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced.  Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife.  Anything that might have been useful was long gone. 
     Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist.  You could still feel the cool silk against your skin.  Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you.  The fourth wall.  The stage was set, and this was just another part to play.  If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.
     “Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.
     “Tsk, Tsk!  Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”
     You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar.  A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set.  No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides.  Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.
      Show time.
     “Why haven’t you killed me?”  You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor. 
     “Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.
     Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat.  You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash. 
     “What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”
     “Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff.  “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N.  One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”
     “What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.”  You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”
     “Slut.  Useless whore.  No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles.  You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.”  His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”
     “Someone like you, I suppose.”  You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you?  That’s pathetic, Artie.  It really is.  You know he just kept you around out of pity.  Poor little Artie from the block…”
     He backhanded you right across the mouth.  Your lip split and you tasted blood.
     “Shut up!  Just shut your whore mouth!”  He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat.  Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.
     “You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds!  If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it.  One last loose end… but not now.  Now, I get creative.  I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him.  Your bestie with those cute kids?  I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”
     You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh!  But what about your baby sister?  Frankie.  Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”
     With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it.  The cigarette was still clenched in your fist.  Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face.  It sizzled and he screamed.
     He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might!  The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin.  The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed.  The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash.  Then, silence.
     “Black SUV, headed east on Market.  That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”
     “We got the video from them?”
     “Nada.  Their surveillance system went down last week.”
     “Safe bet that was our perp.  Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”
      “SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”
     “Naturally.  Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”
      Jensen had never felt more useless in his life.  While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair.  Waiting.  There was literally nothing else he could do.  They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl.  The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously.  There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot.  It was as if he was showing off.  Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.
      Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were.  Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it!  His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes.  Blood everywhere.  Running like a river from her slit throat.  It could have so easily been you.  It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.
     The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him.  Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline!  You were smart and you were a fighter.  You’d come back, you had to.  He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you.  Marriage.  Children.  Big family Christmases.  Quiet date nights.  He even planned a proposal in Paris.  You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him.  Nothing made him happy like making you happy.  His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours. 
      In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”
      When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped.  He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you.  “Y/N?!”
     “Jensen!  Oh God…!”
      Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused.  But he did put it on speaker.  “Sweetheart, where are you?  Are you okay?!”
     The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out. 
     “I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”
     “Crashed?!  What happened?”
      Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”
     “No.  We crashed…. Left…”
     “Was he alive when you saw him last?”
     “…. Unconscious… don’t…. “
      “What kind of vehicle was he driving?”
     “Blue pickup… Dairyland.”
      “Dairyland?”  Jensen repeated. 
     “AJ… 677.”
      “Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search.  Even fragmented information would pull up something.
     “Doctor West, do you know where you are?”
     “Highway.  I don’t… mountains.  Jay!  Its… otter… Kimmy…”
     The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”
     “I don’t know,” he shook his head.  “Kimmy who?”
     “Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”
     It clicked for him then.  The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy.  She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.
      “It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”
      “Good.  Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”
      If she heard, she didn’t reply.  The phone screen showed the call dropped.  Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders.  The well-oiled team shifted into their roles.  Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level.  One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt.  It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when.  And would it be in time?
     “Ackles, you’re with me.”
     Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest. 
     “I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest.  “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight.  Let’s move.”
     You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking.  It seemed like forever.  That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing.  The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage.  The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield.  Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder.  It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green. 
     He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield.  The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do.  He was breathing, and that was enough.  You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 
      You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun.  The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window.  With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield.  You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs. 
     You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!
     The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected.  The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you.  You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped. 
     “No, no damn it!”  Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service.  You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun.  Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.
     There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were!  The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in.  Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with.   You well and truly screwed.
     You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic.  The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff. 
     “Breathe, Y/N.”
     “I can’t.”
     “I’m right here, Sweetheart.  I’m with you.”
     “He’s going to kill me!”
     “You can do this, come on.  Deep breath.  In and out.”
     You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb.  Like magic, you saw the closet.  Warm and filled with color-coded clothes.  The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling. 
     “You’ve got this, Y/N.  Keep moving, keep fighting!  I’m coming for you.”
     The actor’s trick worked.  Your mind cleared and you focused.  Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going.  You didn’t.  Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves.  Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you. 
     You eyed the woods.  It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green.  If he came to, he’d be looking for you.  Best to make that as difficult as possible. 
     “Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra.  Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you.  You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for. 
     With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.
     “R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99.  Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”
     “Any confirmation on passengers?”
     “Two.  A male and a female.”
     “Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”
     “Any hits on the cell?”
     “No, sir.”
     “Keep trying.  If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”
     Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV.  The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information.  They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time.  Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time.  Were you hurt?  Scared?  Running or hiding?  Were you alive? 
     God please, let her be alive!
     As if on cue, his cell phone rang.  Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number.  And it was enough.
     “Got it!  Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”
     “We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”
     “All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”
     “The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”
     The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions.  Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth.  Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once.  Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries.  The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.
     You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath.  Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it.  There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away.  It had an unusual split in its trunk.  Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap.  Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night. 
     You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries.  It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best.  Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome.  The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.
     Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling.  The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.  You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them.  Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive.  It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it. 
     “All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”
     Your eyes popped open.  When had you shut them?  The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding.  The woods were still.  There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife.  But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it. 
     “The monkey thought was all in fun.”
     “A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”
     “That’s the way the money goes.”
      “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     There it was again.  Singing.  You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur.  God!  It seemed like you were making a racket!  Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows.  Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark?  It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you. 
     “Up and down the London road.”
     “In and out of the Eagle.”
     “That’s the way the money goes.”
     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     He was playing with you.  The monkey and the weasel.  Cat and mouse.  You should have kept running!  Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you.  You would have stood a chance!  Now you were in a trap of your own making.
     “I’ve no time to plead and pine.”
     “I’ve no time to wheedle.”
     “Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”
     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from.  Running now would do you no good.  It was too late.  The son of a bitch was closing in on you now.  Would they even be able to find your body?  Would Jensen ever know what became of you?  You should have ran the minute you remembered your name. 
     “All around the cobbler’s bench.”
     “Arthur chased the doctor.”
     “The doctor thought was all in fun…”
     God, please keep him safe from the psychopath.  And Frankie!  Make sure they know I love them!  No matter what happens to me… I love you!
     “Pop!”
     Arthur.  Blood, dirt, and broken glass.  A twisted grin split his grotesque face. 
     Time stopped; a shot rang out.  Then, nothing.
     Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck.  Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.
     The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.
     His blood ran cold.  “Y/N.”
     A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move.  Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.
     "Let me go!"
     "Not a chance."
     "That was a fucking gunshot!"
     "Yeah, it was.  You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."
     “I don’t care!”
     "Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N.  You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”
     Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair.  “Fuck!”
     "We've all got a job to do.  Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  “You want to help your girl?   Stay put.  Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."
     Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier.  It was agony.  There was no word.  Not a sound from anyone.  Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it.  He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane.  Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought.  A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him.  And he was powerless to prevent it.
     He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them.  Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face. 
     Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear.  A grim look passed his features.
     "Let's move."
     He said nothing more.  No word on if you were alive or dead.  No hint at who that ambulance was for.  An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress.  But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing.  There was a mass of people milling around.  F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P.  That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing.  Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office. 
     Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park.  He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard.  The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run!  Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.
     The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.
     "Ackles.”
     "Where is she?!"
     Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard.  A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.
      "Jensen!"
     He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester.  Fighting monsters.  Some you could see, some you couldn't.  But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act.  Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real.  Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy.  The man who always knew what to do.  The man who always saved the day.
     And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time.  That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once.  But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line.  There was no Dean, there was clarity. 
     Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”  
     Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.
     He ran to that ambulance.  On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.  
     You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting.  Bruised and bloody.  But breathing!  The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.
     “Jensen.”
     The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms.  That was when you broke completely.  Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child.  You weren’t sure how you got there.  One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance.  It was so surreal!  It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped.  Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe. 
     Jensen tried to will his own panic away.  You were alive.  He had you.  Bloody and trembling, but in his arms.  He could hear himself telling you soothing things.  Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later.  He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook. 
     But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you.  After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness.  You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak. 
     “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head.  “I’m right here.”
     You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands.  There were burn marks there from the gun powder.  Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel.  A black body bag was strapped to the top.
     “I killed him.”
     Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face.  His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away.  It could have so easily been you.  He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.
     “Don’t look, baby.  Don’t think about it.  Never again.”
     The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital.  He listed a number of injuries that needed attention.  Including another fucking concussion.
     You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”
     “At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.
     With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport.  Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared.  His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch. 
     Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”
     “The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.”  Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you.  The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer.  Almost repentant. 
      “Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case.  You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”
     “You won’t need me to make a statement?”
     “We have everything we need.  And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring.  This victory is yours.”
     “I shot a man.  Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”
     Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”
     “What?”
     “Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place.  “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think.  One clean shot to the head.  Green was dead before he hit the ground.”
     You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense.  But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you.  Well and truly.  Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago.  Words failed you.  An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.
     “Goodbye, Doctor West.  Mr. Ackles.”  Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice. 
     The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain.  Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.
     “It’s over.”
     “Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.
     You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years.  You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan.  You would wonder at the impossibility of it all. 
     Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.
     But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough.  The two of you were drowning; separately but equally.  The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide.  It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free.  You weren’t strong enough, not alone. 
     It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice.  The two of you chose to save each other.  But you also chose to let yourself to be saved.  It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance.  It was a decision.  Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power. 
     Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it.  TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester
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trektraveler · 1 year
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Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench
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Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.
That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex
Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench
Word Count: 5279
Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.
This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!
Series Masterlist
     Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy.  You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you.  Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry.  Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.
     “Y/N?  Sweetheart?  The play is starting…”
     The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine.  Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air!  Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall.  He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves.  And the fall of golden hair.
     Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N!  Baby?!” 
     He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled.  Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.
     Dead.  He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you!  The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig. 
     “Shit!”  Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room.  He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.
      “Solomon.”
      “She’s gone!  She’s gone, you son of a bitch!  You said she was safe!”
     “We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.” 
      “Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body!  He’s got her!  Fuck!”
      “Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background. 
      He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”
      “That’s an order, Ackles!  I need details, not another missing person.  I have agents converging on your location.”
      Jensen ended the call and tried your number.  It rang several times then went to voicemail.  “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on.  I’m coming.  I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”
       Consciousness came to you in fragments.  Different parts of your body were numb.  There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long.  Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet.  Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere.  An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat.  Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard.  It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window. 
     You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”
     This wasn’t Jensen’s car.  The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun.  An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties.  The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench.  The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.
     “Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they?  That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine.  Administered through absorption through the skin.  Remarkable.  It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”
     Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted.  Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York.  Large, hawk-like nose.  Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes. 
     “Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin.  “Hate for you to miss out.”
     He was right.  You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes.  You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head.  You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you.  In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd.  Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you. 
     You forced your mind to focus.  Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them.  You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced.  Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife.  Anything that might have been useful was long gone. 
     Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist.  You could still feel the cool silk against your skin.  Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you.  The fourth wall.  The stage was set, and this was just another part to play.  If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.
     “Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.
     “Tsk, Tsk!  Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”
     You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar.  A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set.  No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides.  Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.
      Show time.
     “Why haven’t you killed me?”  You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor. 
     “Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.
     Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat.  You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash. 
     “What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”
     “Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff.  “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N.  One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”
     “What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.”  You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”
     “Slut.  Useless whore.  No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles.  You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.”  His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”
     “Someone like you, I suppose.”  You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you?  That’s pathetic, Artie.  It really is.  You know he just kept you around out of pity.  Poor little Artie from the block…”
     He backhanded you right across the mouth.  Your lip split and you tasted blood.
     “Shut up!  Just shut your whore mouth!”  He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat.  Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.
     “You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds!  If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it.  One last loose end… but not now.  Now, I get creative.  I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him.  Your bestie with those cute kids?  I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”
     You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh!  But what about your baby sister?  Frankie.  Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”
     With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it.  The cigarette was still clenched in your fist.  Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face.  It sizzled and he screamed.
     He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might!  The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin.  The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed.  The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash.  Then, silence.
     “Black SUV, headed east on Market.  That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”
     “We got the video from them?”
     “Nada.  Their surveillance system went down last week.”
     “Safe bet that was our perp.  Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”
      “SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”
     “Naturally.  Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”
      Jensen had never felt more useless in his life.  While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair.  Waiting.  There was literally nothing else he could do.  They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl.  The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously.  There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot.  It was as if he was showing off.  Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.
      Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were.  Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it!  His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes.  Blood everywhere.  Running like a river from her slit throat.  It could have so easily been you.  It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.
     The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him.  Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline!  You were smart and you were a fighter.  You’d come back, you had to.  He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you.  Marriage.  Children.  Big family Christmases.  Quiet date nights.  He even planned a proposal in Paris.  You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him.  Nothing made him happy like making you happy.  His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours. 
      In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”
      When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped.  He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you.  “Y/N?!”
     “Jensen!  Oh God…!”
      Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused.  But he did put it on speaker.  “Sweetheart, where are you?  Are you okay?!”
     The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out. 
     “I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”
     “Crashed?!  What happened?”
      Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”
     “No.  We crashed…. Left…”
     “Was he alive when you saw him last?”
     “…. Unconscious… don’t…. “
      “What kind of vehicle was he driving?”
     “Blue pickup… Dairyland.”
      “Dairyland?”  Jensen repeated. 
     “AJ… 677.”
      “Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search.  Even fragmented information would pull up something.
     “Doctor West, do you know where you are?”
     “Highway.  I don’t… mountains.  Jay!  Its… otter… Kimmy…”
     The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”
     “I don’t know,” he shook his head.  “Kimmy who?”
     “Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”
     It clicked for him then.  The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy.  She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.
      “It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”
      “Good.  Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”
      If she heard, she didn’t reply.  The phone screen showed the call dropped.  Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders.  The well-oiled team shifted into their roles.  Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level.  One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt.  It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when.  And would it be in time?
     “Ackles, you’re with me.”
     Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest. 
     “I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest.  “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight.  Let’s move.”
     You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking.  It seemed like forever.  That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing.  The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage.  The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield.  Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder.  It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green. 
     He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield.  The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do.  He was breathing, and that was enough.  You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 
      You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun.  The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window.  With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield.  You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs. 
     You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!
     The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected.  The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you.  You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped. 
     “No, no damn it!”  Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service.  You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun.  Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.
     There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were!  The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in.  Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with.   You well and truly screwed.
     You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic.  The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff. 
     “Breathe, Y/N.”
     “I can’t.”
     “I’m right here, Sweetheart.  I’m with you.”
     “He’s going to kill me!”
     “You can do this, come on.  Deep breath.  In and out.”
     You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb.  Like magic, you saw the closet.  Warm and filled with color-coded clothes.  The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling. 
     “You’ve got this, Y/N.  Keep moving, keep fighting!  I’m coming for you.”
     The actor’s trick worked.  Your mind cleared and you focused.  Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going.  You didn’t.  Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves.�� Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you. 
     You eyed the woods.  It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green.  If he came to, he’d be looking for you.  Best to make that as difficult as possible. 
     “Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra.  Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you.  You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for. 
     With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.
     “R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99.  Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”
     “Any confirmation on passengers?”
     “Two.  A male and a female.”
     “Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”
     “Any hits on the cell?”
     “No, sir.”
     “Keep trying.  If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”
     Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV.  The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information.  They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time.  Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time.  Were you hurt?  Scared?  Running or hiding?  Were you alive? 
     God please, let her be alive!
     As if on cue, his cell phone rang.  Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number.  And it was enough.
     “Got it!  Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”
     “We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”
     “All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”
     “The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”
     The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions.  Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth.  Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once.  Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries.  The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.
     You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath.  Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it.  There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away.  It had an unusual split in its trunk.  Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap.  Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night. 
     You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries.  It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best.  Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome.  The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.
     Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling.  The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.  You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them.  Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive.  It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it. 
     “All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”
     Your eyes popped open.  When had you shut them?  The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding.  The woods were still.  There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife.  But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it. 
     “The monkey thought was all in fun.”
     “A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”
     “That’s the way the money goes.”
      “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     There it was again.  Singing.  You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur.  God!  It seemed like you were making a racket!  Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows.  Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark?  It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you. 
     “Up and down the London road.”
     “In and out of the Eagle.”
     “That’s the way the money goes.”
     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     He was playing with you.  The monkey and the weasel.  Cat and mouse.  You should have kept running!  Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you.  You would have stood a chance!  Now you were in a trap of your own making.
     “I’ve no time to plead and pine.”
     “I’ve no time to wheedle.”
     “Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”
     “Pop!  Goes the weasel!”
     The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from.  Running now would do you no good.  It was too late.  The son of a bitch was closing in on you now.  Would they even be able to find your body?  Would Jensen ever know what became of you?  You should have ran the minute you remembered your name. 
     “All around the cobbler’s bench.”
     “Arthur chased the doctor.”
     “The doctor thought was all in fun…”
     God, please keep him safe from the psychopath.  And Frankie!  Make sure they know I love them!  No matter what happens to me… I love you!
     “Pop!”
     Arthur.  Blood, dirt, and broken glass.  A twisted grin split his grotesque face. 
     Time stopped; a shot rang out.  Then, nothing.
     Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck.  Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.
     The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.
     His blood ran cold.  “Y/N.”
     A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move.  Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.
     "Let me go!"
     "Not a chance."
     "That was a fucking gunshot!"
     "Yeah, it was.  You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."
     “I don’t care!”
     "Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N.  You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”
     Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair.  “Fuck!”
     "We've all got a job to do.  Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  “You want to help your girl?   Stay put.  Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."
     Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier.  It was agony.  There was no word.  Not a sound from anyone.  Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it.  He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane.  Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought.  A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him.  And he was powerless to prevent it.
     He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them.  Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face. 
     Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear.  A grim look passed his features.
     "Let's move."
     He said nothing more.  No word on if you were alive or dead.  No hint at who that ambulance was for.  An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress.  But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing.  There was a mass of people milling around.  F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P.  That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing.  Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office. 
     Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park.  He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard.  The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run!  Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.
     The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.
     "Ackles.”
     "Where is she?!"
     Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard.  A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.
      "Jensen!"
     He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester.  Fighting monsters.  Some you could see, some you couldn't.  But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act.  Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real.  Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy.  The man who always knew what to do.  The man who always saved the day.
     And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time.  That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once.  But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line.  There was no Dean, there was clarity. 
     Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”  
     Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.
     He ran to that ambulance.  On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.  
     You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting.  Bruised and bloody.  But breathing!  The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.
     “Jensen.”
     The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms.  That was when you broke completely.  Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child.  You weren’t sure how you got there.  One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance.  It was so surreal!  It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped.  Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe. 
     Jensen tried to will his own panic away.  You were alive.  He had you.  Bloody and trembling, but in his arms.  He could hear himself telling you soothing things.  Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later.  He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook. 
     But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you.  After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness.  You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak. 
     “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head.  “I’m right here.”
     You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands.  There were burn marks there from the gun powder.  Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel.  A black body bag was strapped to the top.
     “I killed him.”
     Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face.  His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away.  It could have so easily been you.  He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.
     “Don’t look, baby.  Don’t think about it.  Never again.”
     The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital.  He listed a number of injuries that needed attention.  Including another fucking concussion.
     You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”
     “At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.
     With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport.  Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared.  His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch.��
     Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”
     “The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.”  Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you.  The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer.  Almost repentant. 
      “Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case.  You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”
     “You won’t need me to make a statement?”
     “We have everything we need.  And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring.  This victory is yours.”
     “I shot a man.  Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”
     Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”
     “What?”
     “Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place.  “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think.  One clean shot to the head.  Green was dead before he hit the ground.”
     You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense.  But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you.  Well and truly.  Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago.  Words failed you.  An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.
     “Goodbye, Doctor West.  Mr. Ackles.”  Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice. 
     The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain.  Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.
     “It’s over.”
     “Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.
     You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years.  You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan.  You would wonder at the impossibility of it all. 
     Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.
     But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough.  The two of you were drowning; separately but equally.  The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide.  It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free.  You weren’t strong enough, not alone. 
     It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice.  The two of you chose to save each other.  But you also chose to let yourself to be saved.  It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance.  It was a decision.  Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power. 
     Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it.  TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester
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They really missed an opportunity to use Agents Ackles and Padalecki
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Cry No More | Masterlist
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Summary: It’s hard to step into the spotlight when someone else is working to perpetually keep you in their shadow. Jensen is an aspiring young musician living in Dallas. He starts to get noticed when his boyfriend, Christian–an already successful country singer–gives him a shout-out on his TikTok and even hooks Jensen up with his talent agent. But the boys keep their relationship under wraps, better for their images for everyone to think they’re straight and single, and that only makes it easier for Christian to keep control of not only Jensen’s burgeoning career but also the rest of his life. 
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Christian Kane & Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Unhealthy BDSM Relationship 
Tags: Musician AU, musician!Christian, musician!Jensen, talent manager!Jared, older!Jared, younger!Jensen, asshole!Christian, domestic violence, abusive BDSM relationship, pain play, sadism, dacryphilia, sub!Jensen, dom!Christian, bottom!Jensen, top!Christian, top!Jared, semi-public sex, blowjob, cumplay, more to follow...
Created for: This mini series is a commission from @katbratsupernaturalwhore 🥰 Long live younger!Jensen / older!Jared pairings!
A/N: This AU is set in modern day (2022) but the characters are not their current ages. Jensen is 24 and Jared and Christian are both 35.
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Prologue
Chapter 1 - TBA
If you'd like to be tagged in this fic, let me know!
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We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore @letsbys-library @fictional-affairs @leigh70
All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @alaufeyson @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler @cluz1babe @maliburenee @delightfullykrispypeach @05supernatural20 
All RPF: @smoothdogsgirl
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my-sherlock221b · 1 year
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J2 Fic recs AU
Re-discovered an old favourite and then read some more by the author and absolutely loved them!
1. Operation: Mistletoe by dimpleforyourthoughts
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553827
FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki.
Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season.
The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other.
2. Like the back of my hand by dimpleforyourthoughts
https://archiveofourown.org/works/904969/chapters/1751305
The year is 2107 and all physical human contact has been outlawed. Jared Padalecki was born into this world and he’s never experienced anything like real human touch. But there’s a secret world that exists on the outskirts of this one; rumors of people who deal and touch in back alleys for the right amount of money. Curious despite himself, he tags along with a friend to witness one of these deals. All it takes is one moment, wrong place, wrong time, and Jared finds himself a part of this secret world, led in by Jensen Ackles. Jensen is everything about this world that gets people killed, but Jared’s curiosity gets the better of him, because while Jared has never been touched, Jensen still remembers what it was like to be touched. Curiosity shifts to passion and Jared’s no longer able to deny himself the need to understand physical touch, and to have Jensen be the one to teach him. In a world where people die to hold hands in the shadows, to steal just one kiss, Jared and Jensen embark down a path that begs the most dangerous and difficult questions of Jared’s life; do you choose to follow the law and deny your instincts because it’s safe? Or do you pursue your inner desires at the risk of getting killed?
Read the tags since this is very dystopic and heartbreaking but absolutely epic. One of the comments compared it to felisblanco’s Doors of Time and I would agree!
3. By a single thread by dimpleforyourthoughts
https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546152/chapters/10348446
Dr. Jensen Ackles is a renowned neuro-psychologist and pioneer surgeon in the field known as Mind Mapping, a procedure that involves entering a coma patient's mindscape and sifting through their memories and trauma to help the patient wake up from the coma. It’s a complex procedure that requires strict rules and no lingering remnants of the visit. But while working with his current patient—Jared Padalecki, male, 24, attempted suicide--Jensen discovers he’s in too deep. He’s formed a dangerous emotional attachment to Jared that could have devastating consequences. He finds himself in the difficult situation of risking his own mind and sense of self by losing himself in Jared. But the more memories he visits, and the more he gets to know Jared, the more Jensen realizes how important it is that he save Jared’s life, whether it costs Jensen his identity or not.
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ao3feed-j2 · 1 year
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Reflective Introspection
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/M05Lw9h
by SamandDean76
Jensen is an FBI agent that has been missing for three years. Jared (his current boyfriend) and Jeffrey (his former boyfriend) had come together while he was missing. But when Jensen turns up mysteriously, the hunt is on for the kidnapper who is still keeping tabs on his experiment.
Words: 7134, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Categories: M/M
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Alexander Calvert, Michael Rosenbaum, Original Male Character(s)
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jared Padalecki
Additional Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternative Universe - FBI, Top Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Hurt Jensen Ackles, Protective Jared Padalecki, Protective Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Hurt Alexander Calvert, Slightly Psychotic Alexander Calvert, Mind Control, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture, Bittersweet Ending, Mystery to be solved, Selectively Mute Jensen Ackles, Rescue, Revenge, Or Justice
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/M05Lw9h
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suchangerlilsam · 1 year
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J2/Wincest Christmas Recs
Operation: Mistletoe by dimpleforyourthoughts
FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki. Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season. The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other.
The Ghosts of Christmas, Present by Casey679
At 4:36 am, Sam is just now pouring his aching body into bed. He's achy and sleep-deprived, and if he had the energy he'd be panicking a little because two of his three managers have asked if he can work overtime tomorrow. If he skips the downtime between each job, he should just be able to juggle it. But Lizzie at the bar tonight was sneezing through her wait shift and even though he's got his flu shot, the last thing he wants is to spend Christmas alone, miserable and feverish in an empty dorm room. Alone and miserable is more than enough, thank you. Just as he clicks the light off and the room goes dark, something at the foot of his roommate Steve's bed catches his eye. Just for a moment, he sees Dean standing there, leaning against the wall and looking at him. He flips the light back on frantically, but Dean's gone.
ain't no saint, sure ain't no savior by sammyatstanford
“Is that for me, too?” Dean asks heatedly, and Sam gives the barest of nods. Dean groans. “What are you trying to do to me?”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098285
Baby, it's cold outside by Merenwen76
Christmas is the best time of the year for Jared. But this time he's caught in a blizzard. With his boss, of all people. - Jensen Ackles
This one not only hates Christmas but is also extremely hot.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177129/chapters/52943050
Christmas Tree Verse by anniespinkhouse
NC-17. J2. AU. Alpha!Jensen and Omega!Jared. "In the end it was a Christmas Tree that saved Jared." A strange lone werewolf finds its way to the home of the Wolf-Pass Pack but how can Alpha!Jensen save a starving and dangerous Were who wants nothing to do with his own kind? Jared finds salvation by the light of a Christmas Tree.
A whole pack of supporting CW characters to help them out because J2 are clueless.
https://archiveofourown.org/series/19789
The Attic Room by anniespinkhouse
Jensen was concentrating on his career, which is probably why he found himself almost homeless just before Christmas. Luckily (?) he found a room in Chad and Misha's house. It wasn't the attic room that was advertised, and in fact, he began to think there was something altogether mysterious about the attic room, and evasive about his housemates. Nothing could have prepared him for what he actually discovered there; a dragon, an egg, and maybe love.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1100168
The Real Miracle of Christmas by waywardelle
After an argument over having their first real Christmas in the Bunker, Dean goes down to the storerooms to clear his head. Instead, he finds himself on a journey to a Christmas from his past, and one from his future that leads him to his ultimate and forever destination: back to Sam.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387624
Christmas Miracle by Jld71
Jensen has been pining after Jared, his coworker, for six months. He thinks he doesn’t stand a chance with Jared until something happens, proving that Christmas might just be a time of miracles.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/37026559
The Billionaire's Christmas by Missyswife37
Jensen Ackles , the gorgeously handsome billionaire CEO and Philanthropist has always
hated Christmas; for him, the festive season holds too many tormenting memories...
Jared Padalecki is one of his many dutiful employees, but won't let anything - or anyone cancel Christmas for him.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/25889461
Where the Lovelight Gleams by dollylux
Dean finds something unexpected in the trunk.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798879
Merry Sexmas, Sammy by brokenlittleboy
A sex-obsessed witch curses Sam. Sam has to be claimed by Dean and follow his every order before the clock strikes twelve or he'll die. Sam freaks out at first, worried how Dean will feel, but it turns out Dean doesn't really have a problem with any of that. At all. This is half-angsty, half sexy humor--I dub it "hangst."
It's the True Meaning of Christmas Sam Winchester by dimeliora
What are the holidays without curses and family?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/686634
A Not So Cursed Christmas by hit_the_books
This Christmas is just going to be the two of them, and Sam's looking forward to it. He's got the perfect gift for Dean and they're going to be spending some quality time together. It'll be a million times better than one of their motel Christmases... right?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105294
How the Winchesters Saved Christmas (and Christmas saved the Winchesters) by LaughableLament
Sam and Dean made their choice; they called their truce. Then a nighttime visitor appeared, with an offer of a once-in-a-lifetime hunt.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660263
Baby Please Come Home by non_tiembo_mala
Jensen works as a nurse in the ER and his walk to and from work takes him past a young homeless man who makes a home in Jensen's heart. Also, it's Christmastime.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377676
Merry Chrismoose By NaughtyPastryChef
It all started at a Cracker Barrel. Dean knew he shouldn't buy it but, well, he's never been good at ignoring that voice in his head that said "don't do that." This time, though, it doesn't end up all that bad for him or Sam.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176156
Three Gifts by Theatregirl7299
It's the week before Christmas and Jared's life sucks. He doesn’t see the point of celebrating, but Jensen has other ideas.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332151
don't take this feeling by dimpleforyourthoughts
It's crazy, what you would do for a friend. Jared Padalecki, for example, has hidden his true feelings for his best friend Jensen Ackles his entire life.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534774
A Home For The Holidays by Jld71
Sam and Dean decorate their home for the holidays.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/36029026
Like a Married Couple by Marie_Tomas
Dean and Sam spend Christmas relaxing in a cabin. Dean gets a little drunk and tells Sam that he'd marry him if they weren't brothers. As they jokingly talk about their fictional wedding, Dean starts to realize that his thoughts about marrying Sam might be a little more serious.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786999
Hurry Down the Chimney Tonight by dollylux
Jared goes on a date to a Christmas party, and he meets the evening's entertainment.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758424
Silent Night by dollylux
Jared's plans for Christmas Eve get interrupted by a group of carolers.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2745011
Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe by queenklu
It's a week before Christmas, and Dean is at Stanford hoping for one more impossible thing.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/611079
The Legacy of Old Saint Nick by SmackTheDevil
Jared had wanted to travel since he was old enough to understand what it meant. And it was his grandpa who encouraged him to dare to dream when others around his told him not to. When his beloved grandpa dies, Jared is left with an inheritance and strict instructions in the form of a letter to go see the world because ‘real magic is waiting for you’. Jared’s grandpa had always been whimsical but Jared wasn’t expecting the ‘magic’ to be so damn literal.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35853727/chapters/89402056
The J2 Christmas Anthology by SmackTheDevil
https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036215
Miles to Go by dollylux
As Jensen's assistant, Jared takes care of him at work. As a man in love, he can't help that he wants to wrap him up in a warm blanket and take care of him in every other aspect of his life, too.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402513
Caught in the Cookie Jar... by ashtraythief
Jensen helps his nephew bake at a cookie contest. Unfortunately, his childhood nuisance Jared Padalecki is also there. Sprinkles fly.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035234
J. Frost by morrezela
Jared Padalecki's ski resort business isn't doing very well this year thanks to El Niño. His world and the one outside changes when he summons J. Frost.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538587
Joy to the World (You Are My Joy) by dollylux
Jensen's attendance of a protest at Walmart on Black Friday is interrupted by a little girl who has lost her daddy. (Kidfic!)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708384
It's Just Bubbles -
Jared is dreading Christmas this year ever since his mom told him they were spending it with his sister's best friend's family up at a cabin in the woods. His mother reassures him that Megan's friend has a brother his age but Jared already knows all about Jensen and has no desire to hang out with him. Not that Jensen would want to hang out with him either, they don't exactly run around in the same circles at school.
Jared's break from school turns from bad to worse when they get up to the cabin to find only one bed in the boy's room and Jared has to share with Jensen.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100707
Can‘t Buy Me Love by Merenwen76
Jensen is a millionaire and can buy anything and everything. Jared is not for sale.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35903089
Winter Love by dollylux
Jensen draws some guy named Jared Padalecki for Secret Santa at the shelter where he volunteers.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375084
Full Is Not Heavy As Empty by Exaggerated_Specificity
Sixteen-year-old Sam Winchester seems hell-bent on spending his entire winter break sulking and feeding his inner freak until he comes across a list of New Year's Resolutions he wrote the year prior. This was a new year and he was a new Sam.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139091
follow the star wheresoever it went by dollylux
Union soldier Dean Winchester gets a furlough to come home for Christmas. (Civil War- era AU.)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5455169
Good Tidings We Bring by dollylux
Jared has Christmas Eve dinner with the future in-laws.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842355
Like Everything I’ve Ever Lost by compo67, FaeGentry
Jared gobbles up men the way ordinary men gobble up peanuts. This is what he tells himself at this year’s fantastic family Christmas party in Kennebunkport, Maine hosted by his Aunt Georgina, his mother’s eldest sister.
Featuring bitter, jaded, drag queen Jared, plus stoic, adopted cousin, lawyer turned lobster/fisherman Jensen--this is the kinky, queer, absurd, tragically hilarious Hallmark holiday movie the world needs right now.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785762/chapters/70591245
Calendar Boy by Theatregirl7299
Jensen’s life was his photography business. His thoughts that it would always be that way flew out the window when Jared stepped foot into his studio.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349457
Who Knew by tommygirl
Jared's baking cookies in Jensen's house and Jensen realizes he's in a relationship.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780692
Every Christmas With You by the_milky_way
https://icebear-cw.livejournal.com/21295.html?fbclid=IwAR19wuSqfaOCCgK-rzZPiZ4z9_GujAQrp8qF47LAVMov5zjXXNlhlrWdOKE
We're Cooler Than Hallmark By PadacklesBitches
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233157/chapters/40525154
Make the Yuletide Gay by nomelon
Coda to A Very Supernatural Christmas. First time fic. 5,400 words of angsty, teasing, shaving, porny Winchesters.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009
#fic #ficrecs #fanfiction #J2 #Wincest #Christmas #Xmas #Supernatural
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j2memories · 2 months
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Collider article (February 4th 2021)
Jared Padalecki on the Unique Challenges of 'Walker' and Why He's Still Grieving 'Supernatural'
BY CHRISTINA RADISH
PUBLISHED FEB 04, 2021
The actor also talks about getting to work with his real-life wife and the possibility of Jensen Ackles guest-starring.
From show creator Anna Fricke (Being Human), The CW series Walker follows widower and Texas Ranger Cordell Walker (Jared Padalecki), back home in Austin, Texas after being undercover for nearly a year, which has not made it any easier for him to find his footing again with son August (Kale Culley) and daughter Stella (Violet Brinson). With a former colleague (Coby Bell) now his boss, a new partner (Lindsey Morgan) by his side, a family challenging him every step of the way, and suspicions about the circumstances surrounding the death of his wife (Genevieve Padalecki), there’s plenty to make Walker’s life complicated.
During this 1-on-1 phone interview with Collider, actor Jared Padalecki, who’s also an executive producer on the project, talked about the experience of starting a new TV series after spending 15 seasons on Supernatural, how the dynamic between the Walker brothers compares to that of the Winchester brothers, how special it is to work with his real-life wife, having Lindsey Morgan as his partner vs. Jensen Ackles, how involved he’s been with the show’s development, and that they’ll get Ackles to guest on the show at some point.
Collider: I must admit, it’s very strange to be talking to you about something other than Supernatural, when I figured I would just be talking to you about that until the end of time. Congratulations on Walker doing so well! Coming off of a show where you spent 15 seasons and starting a new show, when you don’t know what the audience will be or how the response will be, how does it feel to know that it’s got so many people tuning in already?
JARED PADALECKI: I still am grieving Supernatural. I really am. It was 15 and a half years. I met my wife on the show. I met my dear friend, and many dear friends. I really enjoyed Sam Winchester. So, I’m still grieving that process. We’ve developed Walker over the last two years, so I’ve had a chance to get to know the character and the show and figure out who this guy is and what the show is gonna be about. It’s been interesting. Ultimately, Supernatural was such a big part of my life. I’m 38, and that was 15 and a half years of my life. There’s no real way to calculate it, and I don’t think I’ll ever really grasp that or make sense of it. But I love, love, love the show I’m doing now. I love the character, I love the cast, I love our crew, and I love the stories we are setting out to tell. I hope Cordell Walker feels different than Sam Winchester. I’ve worked really hard to try to make sure that they’re different people. And I think Anna [Fricke] and her team have done a tremendous job and I’m really excited to explore this new world.
How different does it feel to go from the dynamic of the Winchester brothers to the Walker brothers, and play a big brother after playing a little brother for so long?
PADALECKI: Oh, yeah, it’s ridiculous. It’s like apples and oranges. I’ve been on TV, before Walker, for over 20 years. I’ve done almost 400 episodes of television and I had never played a father. So, to play a father and a widower, and to be a little brother and a law enforcement agent, it’s so many new horizons for me and it’s such a cool privilege that I get to do this and sleep at home. It’s amazing to sleep home, but it sucks to wake up at home because I have three, two-legged alarm clocks that just wanna come in and jump on dad’s head. They’re like, “Time to wake up, I want Lucky Charms! Time to wake up, I want Cheerios! Where’s my yogurt?” And I’m like, “Uh, I gotta go to work.” It’s a very different lifestyle, in many ways, and maybe it’s helping me film Walker because my life is very different today than it was even four months ago when we were finishing Supernatural in Vancouver.
What does it mean to you to get to work with your wife, Genevieve Padalecki, and to be able to share scenes together as part of this relationship that’s really the driving force for your character?
PADALECKI: She and I met on set. The first words we ever exchanged were on the set of Supernatural in Vancouver. She was a guest star who was gonna do a couple of episodes. She went to Tisch School at NYU, did theater and drama, and had her own TV show. She’s a wonderful actress and she’s a super hardworking A-type. I love seeing her in her element. Like so many women do, she put her passions on the backburner for many years, to make sure that she was there for the kids when I had to be out of the country shooting the rest of Supernatural. During these COVID times, you can’t bring friends and family to set because it’s against the rules, so I just also love that my fellow cast and crew gets to meet her and see her. I get to show her off, off screen and on screen, and I couldn’t be more proud. She brings such a light to Emily and to the set, off screen. I couldn’t be happier. It’s such a special moment. I read the script and we developed a show, with Anna and Dan Lin and Lindsey Liberatore at Rideback Studios. And then, funny enough, Gen and I were in Park City skiing last February, for our 10-year wedding anniversary, and I got a phone call from Anna. She was like, “Hey, I wanna talk about Gen.” And I was like, “Okay, I’m with her.” And she goes, “Does Gen wanna play Emily?” And I was like, “What?!” So, I told Gen, and now here we are, almost a year later, with six episodes in the can and I couldn’t be happier.
How are you also finding the experience of having a female partner on the show with Lindsey Morgan, as opposed to having Jensen Ackles as your partner?
PADALECKI: Well, she’s much better to look at than Jensen. She’s still shorter than I am, so I don’t have to break my neck looking up. I’m just kidding. I love Jensen. I feel like I could see him in 10 years, and we’d go right back into our on screen and off screen vibe. He and I have just spent so much time with each other, more time than with our wives, our kids, and other friends and family, so it’s so easy with Jensen. He’s a wonderful actor, obviously. We get each other. With Lindsey, she’s also just a wonderful person. She’s kind, she’s smart, she’s hardworking, she’s talented, she’s very passionate about her character and the role, and she takes it very seriously and does her research and her preparation. I really enjoy working with her. It’s certainly very different with my co-anchor, so to speak, being somebody who’s not related and a female, then with Supernatural, where he was related and an older brother. It’s also a dynamic that selfishly helps Walker be his own person. I’m not the little brother anymore. Now, I’m the senior Ranger in a duo. It gives me, Jared, an opportunity to explore different aspects of building a character. And Lindsey’s a sponge. She’s eager to learn, and eager to work hard and do a great job.
As a executive producer on the show, are you part of the conversations about what could happen in the future of the show, what you cover in Season 1, and how you lay the groundwork for Season 2?
PADALECKI: I’m part of far more conversations than I wanted to be. Frankly, Anna and her crew of fellow writers have fleshed this show out with phenomenal stories that I’m really proud of. The genesis of this show was me in my trailer, during Season 14 of Supernatural thinking about a story that I would like to watch, if I were gonna have the chance to watch TV. Before this show was ever even called Walker, I had an idea of a guy who was stuck between a rock and a hard place, who was bound by his own moral code, but also bound by his oath and his duty, and they didn’t always mesh. I’ve had a great time exploring it and I’m excited to continue getting to explore it, but it’s been a new world for me.
I certainly think you should put in a bid for having Jensen Ackles come on as a villain because I think it would be very fun to see you guys go up against each other, in that way.
PADALECKI: Your mouth to God’s ears. Count me in. We’ll get him on. We will share a screen together again.
What does your family think of Walker?
PADALECKI: It’s a great show. I’m really proud of it. Supernatural was funny because my kids couldn’t really watch it because dad is dying or dad is killing somebody or we’re cutting heads off or someone is getting their heart eaten. With Walker, I feel very comfortable saying to everybody on the planet, “Hey, you can watch this. You can watch this with your kids. You can watch this with your parents. You can watch this with your friends. It’s gonna be fun. It’s heartwarming. It’s a great show for anybody and everybody.
And I’m a sucker for anything with Mitch Pileggi in it, so thank you for that.
PADALECKI: Me too! I asked for him by name. Not a word of a lie.
Walker airs on Thursday nights on The CW.
Link to the article
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The Last Town - Blake Crouch
(Wayward Pines #3/3)
Welcome to Wayward Pines, the last town. Secret Service agent Ethan Burke arrived in Wayward Pines, Idaho, three weeks ago. In this town, people are told who to marry, where to live, where to work. Their children are taught that David Pilcher, the town’s creator, is god. No one is allowed to leave; even asking questions can get you killed. But Ethan has discovered the astonishing secret of what lies beyond the electrified fence that surrounds Wayward Pines and protects it from the terrifying world beyond. It is a secret that has the entire population completely under the control of a madman and his army of followers, a secret that is about to come storming through the fence to wipe out this last, fragile remnant of humanity.
Read if You Like:
Science Fiction
Thrillers
Horror
Mysteries
Dystopian Fiction
Post Apocalyptic Fiction
Suspenseful Stories
Recommended if You Enjoy:
Paul Tremblay (Survivor Song)
Hugh Howey (Wool Omnibus)
Blake Crouch (Run)
Jeremy Robert Johnson (The Loop)
Supernatural (T. V. Series, 2005)
10 Cloverfield Lane (Movie, 2016)
First Book in Series:
Previous Book in Series:
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arielsaurusart · 2 years
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"Who the bloody hell are you two and where are the Men of Letters?"
The two men stared at the woman who suddenly appeared on the steps of their library. Sam noticed she was dressed in vintage clothing, even stockings, but it didn't look aged. Dean noticed that she was wearing one of those retro bras that made her boobs into cones.
82 notes · View notes
Nightingale Chapter Fifteen - Choose
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Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.
That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex
Chapter Fifteen: Choose
Word Count: 3037
Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.
This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!
Masterlist
Nightingale Masterlist
Jensen stole a look at you as the car pulled up to the dreary office building. The very picture of grace under pressure. Resolute and calm. The best damned poker face he’d ever seen, only the icy hand in his betrayed your fear. He released you only long enough for the two of you to exit the vehicle, immediately resuming his hold as you were led into one of the offices.
Part of him was worried that if he let go, you would simply disappear. There were so many aspects of this that were far beyond his control. Everything seemed to be lining up to rip the two of you apart. It took every bit of persuasion to get the agent that showed up to allow Jensen to accompany you, even still the intimidating man kept shooting dirty looks in the rear-view mirror.
The office was sparse. Four walls, a desk and a few chairs. Glaring, overhead fluorescent fixtures provided the only light source, and one wall had a suspicious looking framed mirror.
“Suppose that’s one of those two-way mirrors?” Jensen said, half joking.
“Oh, I’m sure,” you glanced over and gave the mirror a salute.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Suppose they’ll start with the good cop or the bad cop?”
“Good or bad is simply a matter of perception, Mr. Ackles.”
The two of you turned to see a man with black framed glasses and a charcoal suit enter. He was young, maybe a few years younger than you. A wiry, swimmer’s build and a thick mop of unruly brown hair. He carried a file under one arm and a cardboard drink carrier with three cups in his free hand. With the casualness of youth, he kicked the door shut behind him and tossed the file on the desk.
“Non-fat, vanilla latte for Doctor West,” he said handing you a cup then the next one to Jensen. “Coffee, black.”
“Uncle Sam really does know everything,” Jensen said, accepting the coffee.
“Your tax dollars hard at work,” replied the man, dropping into the vacant seat on the opposite side of the desk. He ran a busy hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end, and opened the file, pulling out several papers in seemingly no order.
You frowned down at the paper cup held in your lap. This was not what you expected at all. “Who are you?”
His head popped up in surprise, “Ah yes! Right… sorry. My name is Frank Solomon. I’m the agent in charge of your case.”
“What happened to Agent Jackson?”
“Retired. Last year,” he resumed his paper shuffling. “I hear he spends most days golfing in Sedona. Nice work if you can get it.”
You furrowed your brow as he spread out several black and white mug shots in front of you. “Now Doctor, I need you to study these carefully. Do you recognize any of these men?”
You looked briefly then shook your head, “I don’t understand… I thought you were relocating me?”
Solomon’s dark, brown eyes were sharp and probing. He gave the impression that he could find your every weakness with a glance. He was the hawk and you the prey.
“Do you want to be relocated?”
It felt like a trap, regardless of how you answered. “Do I have a choice?”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Alright!” Jensen broke in with a huff, “Before we go any further with this spy vs spy double talk crap… where the hell have you guys been?”
“Jensen,” you started.
“No! Seriously, she’s been doing her own thing for what… three years now? How does that work? You guys just drop her in a foreign city with a fresh ID and say good luck? Hope the mob doesn’t come knocking!”
For the first time, Agent Solomon looked uncomfortable. It was slight and he recovered quickly. “Typically, the agent assigned to any given case sees it through to its completion. That means keeping in regular contact with witnesses until trial, and sometimes beyond. The longer a case drags out, the less likely it is it will ever go to court.”
“So… time passes, the trail gets cold, Jackson retires, and I was forgotten about?”
“This wasn’t a top priority case, no.”
“You son of a bitch,” Jensen ground out, the muscle in his jaw clenched.
To his credit, Solomon didn’t flinch. He kept his sharpened gaze on you. “Circumstances have changed, you recall the code name Bishop?”
A chill slid down your spine, that old saying about someone walking over your grave came to mind. “That was the name of Colin’s contact.”
“We were never able to get his real name, anyone he met with in person and could provide an ID disappeared. Or wound-up dead, like Colin Garrett.”
He passed a grainy, black and white picture to you. It was a still from a surveillance camera, you recognized the back stairwell from your New York apartment building. And you recognized him.
“Oh… my God.”
“Doctor West, can you identify this man?”
“That’s Arthur Green. He was Colin’s racquetball partner… they grew up together.” You closed your eyes as you realized just how naïve you’d been. “In the neighborhood. Colin was in it from the beginning, wasn’t he? Before he ever became a doctor.”
Solomon laid out more pictures, several of Colin and Arthur in their younger days. “We believe so.”
“So, you’ve got a positive ID on this Bishop guy and that’s reopened the case?” Jensen asked. “That’s why you guys finally showed up?”
“Arthur Green has been in and out of the system his whole life. A typical repeat offender. He was released from Federal prison on parole six months ago. Two weeks ago, he failed to check in with his parole officer, that was when his file came across my desk.”
“I don’t get it… If you guys already had him, why let him go?” Jensen asked with a shake of his head. “What exactly do you do at the FBI? Cold cases?”
Suddenly, briefly, the agent looked even younger. Like a kid caught past curfew. “Until recently, I was part of the surveillance department.”
“How recently?” you asked, afraid of the answer.
“Very recently.”
Jensen choked out a laugh, “Great! The FBI lets Green go and send a rookie to clean up the mess!”
“I recognized his face from a file I skimmed nearly five years prior and found it a perfect match. There was no one working on this case after Jackson retired and frankly, my superiors are not exactly convinced it’s worth looking into now.”
Solomon gestured to the papers on the desk, many of them featured information about you. Your aliases. Your testimony. Every detail of your life tracked by the government, some of it even from before you knew Colin. You really wanted to throw a match on the whole damn thing.
“Arthur Green has been out before now, but this is the first time he’s ever disappeared on us, and I believe that is because of you.”
“Because I blew my cover.”
“I have to hand it to you, spectacular work. That Dateline piece really drummed up a lot of interest. Your sister and her husband even went on the Today show.”
“Husband. Frankie married?”
Leaving your little sister behind was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Harder than walking away from your dream job, harder than moving to a city where you didn’t know a soul. How many times had you picked up the phone, seconds away from dialing her number just to hear her voice? How many birthdays had you missed? Christmases. Graduations. Job interviews. Late nights conversations about horrible first dates. Or amazing ones. Frankie was your best friend, and her absence was something you never grew accustomed to.
Agent Solomon nodded, his expression unreadable. “Married with a two-year-old son.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose in an effort not to completely break down. “Great. That’s… that’s really great.”
Jensen’s heart broke for you. On one hand, that was a successful execution of witness protection, wasn’t it? It had kept you alive and your family safe. It wasn’t easy, but a worthy sacrifice given the stakes. Still, it seemed especially cruel to miss so much just trying to do the right thing.
“You mentioned a choice,” he said. “What’s the choice?”
“Well, we can put Doctor West back into witness protection. Make her disappear, just like every other time. Obviously, your fame and nontertiary makes this tricky, but it can be done. It won’t be pleasant or comfortable, but it will be effective.”
“What’s the other option?” you asked.
“We flush him out.” Solomon leaned over the desk and pulled out a file with Jensen’s name on it. “Mr. Ackles’ celebrity status gives us a unique opportunity. You stay here in Vancouver, engage in all of your typical activities. Maybe go out on the town a bit more, see and be seen. When Green shows we take him in.”
“You want to use her as bait?!”
“Jensen,” you quietly admonished him.
“No! No way!” Jensen was up and out of his seat, taking to pace while his thoughts ran wild. “You’ve got her disappearing God knows where for the rest of her life or stay here and hope this nut job doesn’t kill her while you guys are taking a smoke break. Either way, she loses her life and for what? To give you a win big enough to get you out of the mailroom?”
“You are absolutely right.” Solomon’s tone was even and measured. A counterpoint to Jensen’s impassioned outburst. He looked directly at you, his dark eyes not quite as calculating as they were before.
“Dr. West, do you recall your first interrogation session with Agent Jackson?”
You were still wearing the silk camisole and short set you wore to bed. Colin had bought it for you on his last business trip and you liked to wear it when he was away. A romantic notion that maybe it was lucky, that if you wore it, he would return safely to you. Just like he always had.
You sat in a room so freezing cold that you could practically see your breath. Wearing flimsy night clothes that did nothing to keep you warm and even less to keep your modesty. You felt so exposed and vulnerable. And scared. And confused. It was surreal! Like something out of a movie. You must have been there for hours before someone finally came in and spoke to you. It was Jackson. He gave you a coffee. Lukewarm, without a hint of cream or sugar.
He didn’t ask you any questions. Just laid out the case. File after file. Pictures, confessions, fingerprints. It was all there. Utterly undeniable proof that the man you loved, lived with, wanted a future with, simply didn’t exist. He was a con. A made-up persona and you were nothing more than set dressing in the fake life he used to deal drugs.
“He lied… everything he said, everything we did.” You sat there, numb from the cold and now from this bombshell that had blown your life apart. “I thought he was a doctor.”
“He is,” Jackson said, pulling out Colin’s med school records. “Board certified. Has been for nearly two decades.”
“No.” Two fat tears burned a bitter path down your cheek. You brushed them away with an impatient hand. “Doctors help people. They save lives, they don’t destroy them. They take an oath to first do no harm. The opioid crisis is an epidemic, its killed thousands!”
The grizzled agent shook his head as he shuffled through the papers, “I don’t think your boyfriend thought much about that oath when he took it.”
“Well, I did.” You raised your chin a notch as you swallowed down the tears. “When I said those words, I meant them.”
Jackson met your determined gaze and for the first time, you didn’t see distain or suspicion. You saw respect.
“Whatever you need from me, you’ve got it.”
You nodded, “I remember.”
“You were outraged that anyone who would take the Hippocratic Oath would be involved in something that killed people for profit, let alone someone you loved. You offered us your assistance before we even asked. Your actions were motivated out of the desire to help people, because that’s what doctors do. That’s who you are.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that. It seemed like such a long time ago, a lifetime ago. You’d been naïve in your relationship with Colin, and it cost you everything. Even your name. In many ways, it felt like another woman had said those things. An idealistic, stupidly brave woman who acted impulsively and from the heart. A woman who did the right thing because her conscience would never allow her to do otherwise. She was a believer.
God… could you ever really be her again?
“Y/N. The drug ring is done, most of the people involved have plea bargains with the DA or they disappeared altogether. Arthur Green is an outlier; his only motivation now is revenge, and his sole target is you. The only question is, what do you want to do about it?”
You could feel Solomon’s eyes on you, willing you to go along with his plan. Waiting for you to tell him your decision. Your choice. It didn’t feel like it was yours though, it felt like the same choice you’d been faced with seven years ago. The only difference was that you now had an acute understanding of the consequences. Not just for you; for everyone. And it paralyzed you.
Jensen’s voice came from somewhere behind you, “Agent, would you give us a minute?”
“Absolutely,” the younger man replied. He drained his coffee in one, long swallow and tossed the paper cup in the trash can as he passed.
The heavy door clicked closed behind him and Jensen’s hands landed on your shoulders. The steady warmth of his palms helped ground you.
“Every time I think all of Colin’s dirty secrets are out in the open, another one pops up.”
“I know.”
“He’s been dead for seven years and the bombshells are still coming.”
Jensen dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “I know.”
You picked at the hem of your shirt to busy your hands. “I’m still so angry with him, you’d think I’d be over it by now. Its useless to be furious at a dead person.”
“I hate to break it to you, but it’s a pretty normal reaction. I’d be mad too, hell I’d be pissed!”
“I’m more pissed at myself.” You blew out a breath, your head falling back against Jensen who was still behind you, steady as ever. “I should have kept in better contact with Agent Jackson.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, alright?” Jensen came around to face you, “You went above and beyond here. Most people wouldn’t have had the strength to leave their whole life behind. You didn’t even hesitate. That took real guts.”
“It wasn’t guts. It was a complete lack of understanding of the consequences. I thought I’d be gone a month or two at the most. That they’d catch the bad guys and I’d be home in time for Christmas!”
You squeezed your eyes closed, thinking immediately of your little sister. How many important days have you missed? How many times was she alone, mourning you, mourning your parents? She paid the price for your poor judgement, perhaps even more than you did.
“Frankie’s married, she’s a mom! We always said we were going to raise our kids together, you know? After Mom and Dad died… we just didn’t want to be apart.” You dropped your head to your hands, “God! She’s never going to forgive me for this!”
“Baby, I don’t know your sister. But if she’s anything like you, she’s not going hate you for doing what you thought was right. And she’s not going to give up searching for you, she sounded pretty stubborn in that interview.”
“It’s a family trait.” You stood to pace, your mind working over-time only to come to the same conclusion over and over again.
“Disappearing into witness protection was the best option to keep her safe. As badly I as I wanted to take down a drug ring and bring the mob to justice, Frankie was my real motivation. If the mob thought I was dead, she wouldn’t be on their radar. Now that Arthur Green knows I’m alive… she’s a potential target. I don’t care what the Agent Solomon says, she’s in as much danger as I am.”
Jensen studied your determined profile. Your jaw was set and your eyes clear. “Sounds like you’ve made your decision.”
“The only way to make sure the people I love aren’t in the crosshairs, is to put myself there instead.”
He hated it. The very idea of it made him want to throw you over his shoulder and book a private jet to parts unknown. But this was bigger than the two of you. You were right, everyone connected to you was at risk. There was only one way this could go down, but he wasn’t about to let you do it alone.
“Not just you, Sweetheart. This is on both of us.”
“Jensen, I love you. And I know you love me too, but you don’t have to do this to prove it. Even with the FBI backing us up, I don’t know… it’s a risk. A big one.”
“It is,” he agreed, grasping your shoulders. “But there is no risk I wouldn’t take for you. The mob, the drug ring, the damn FBI… it doesn’t matter. You and me together, that’s what matters. I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever.”
You reached up and cupped his face, your thumb tracing the ridge of his cheekbone. His arresting green eyes locked on yours long enough to silence your doubts. The cold fear you’d felt since regaining your memories melted away, leaving resolve in its place.
“Stronger together?”
Jensen winked, causing you to grin back. “Damn straight.”
“Well then. I guess it’s time for Doctor Y/N West to come back from the dead.”
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