madebyme_x | Fic - Linger (AUJ2)

Title: Linger
Summary: AU J2. They meet in the gardens of the hospice every morning.

Rating: PG13
Genre: AUJ2.
Warnings: Terminal illness Deathfic, sadfic
Word Count: 1300+
Disclaimer: This is not real, I'm just casting characters in a fic. I'm not making a profit, and this is just for fun. All the standard disclaimers apply.
A/N: This was written for

quickreaver's prompt over at

j2_jukebox based on the song Linger by The Cranberries. Please also take note of the warnings. A huge thank you to my wonderful beta harrigan for giving this a quick once over for me. I've tinkered so all mistakes are mine.

Linger

It's a perfect morning; crisp and fresh, the twinkle of frost sparkling on the tarmac like thousands of tiny diamonds, and the sun is big and bright in the sky. Jared lifts his chin, closes his eyes and just breathes in the frigid air.

“You shouldn't be here.” Jared doesn't have to open his eyes to know it's Jensen. Jared can picture him sitting ram-rod straight on the wooden bench that's next to Jared's wheelchair; his slate-grey suit as sharp as ever, his hands folded neatly on his lap just like they always are.

“What's it gonna do? Kill me?”

“That's not funny.”

“Aw, come on. It's a little funny.”

Jared smiles. It has to be funny, and he has to laugh and joke about this because otherwise he can't deal with how unfair it all is. He's trying so damn hard not be the bitter and angry-at-the-world-and-everyone-in-it guy.

He opens his eyes, and turns to look at Jensen. He's wearing a pinstriped navy-blue shirt today. It looks good on him; makes his eyes look greener somehow.

“This has to stop, Jared. I mean it.” Jensen's got a little frown on his forehead, his lips are pinched, and his eyes even look a little wet, but maybe that's Jared projecting, or some shit like that. But Jensen does look hurt, and actually seeing how much Jensen cares is new, and Jared likes it. Probably more than he should.

“But I like spending time with you. You make me feel like a whole person; not a broken one.” His voice cracks a little, and Jared hates it. He doesn't want to sound so needy and desperate. But the truth is, that he is all of these things, and so many more.

Simply being in Jensen's company makes everything feel...calm, and it's a welcoming escape from the reality of hospice life. Maybe he should feel bad about coming out here, but he doesn't. Not even a little bit.

“It's killing you!” Jensen snaps. “The way you drag yourself out of bed and away from the medications and machines, escaping in your wheelchair when you think the hospice nurses aren't watching, and the fact that you never bring a blanket or dress appropriately for the weather conditions.” Jensen waves his hand at the thin cotton of Jared's white-issue t-shirt and sleep pants as if to make a point.

Jared did put on a dressing gown today, but now is probably not the time to mention that to Jensen.

“Your heart can't take the strain and it's...it's shortening what time you have left. I don't like that you're doing all of this just so that you can see me. I want you to stop.” Jensen nods his head sharply, and then pulls his gaze away from Jared like it's some kind of punishment.

“Don't you think that's a little weird?” It's exactly the sort of thing he's wanted to hear Jensen say ever since they met when Jared first escaped to the gardens of the hospice; it was snowing that morning. “This is your job, Jensen. You're a reaper. You do this everyday. Why is it so different with me?”

“I don't know. This has never happened before and it's unprecedented. But I...I just know that I like spending time with you, and I don't want to be the one to take you away from your life.” Jensen shifts on the bench so that he can look at Jared in the eye, and it feels like time has stopped. “Jared, I don't want you to die.”

“But I am. I mean, that's why I'm here in the hospice; that's why you're here, right? My heart is failing and not even you can stop that from happening.” It's not the first time Jared's given this speech; that he's had to be the strong one for all the people around him that are falling apart. “If you're not here, if you don't come to me, what will happen?”

“When you're out here, you're on the precipice between life and death, so one of my colleagues would come in my absence, and I would go somewhere else; to someone else.” Jensen's face seems to fall at his own words, like he's just come to a terrible realisation.

“I don't get to decide a lot about my life or my death, but I do know that I want you to be here. That when the time comes, I want it to be you. Not anyone else.”

Jared's not sure what he expects Jensen to say, but when Jensen nods slowly, lets his eyes close and then reopen, there's a determination in them that wasn't there before. “OK. I'll be here for you. I can promise you that.”

Jared's not sure he can hide the relief from his face.

The other times they've met here, they've talked; about Jared's family and friends, the places he's travelled as a photographer, the pet snail he had when he was nine (it started as a protest, because he really wanted a dog, but his Mom had refused. He loved that damn snail), but mostly about Jensen's job and what it's like to be a reaper.

“Will you answer a question for me? Just one.”

Jensen raises his eyebrows. “That depends on the question. You know there are rules that I simply cannot break. Not even for you.” That's probably a reference to Jared's questions about God and heaven and hell, and the meaning of life. But Jared had to at least ask, right?

“Were you once alive in this world?”

“I was. A long time ago, but yes, I lived a life and it was...quite wonderful. For a while I couldn't remember it at all, but with some people I reap, memories surface. When I'm with you I remember a lot about my life; my house, my family, the garden I used to tend, and the feel of the earth in my fingers and the pitter-patter of raindrops on my skin. It was a simple life, but it was very fulfilling.”

“And when it was your time, a reaper came for you?”

“They did, and while I don't really remember what happened or who reaped me, I know my death was swift and unexpected. I took the reaper's hand, and then it was all over. There was no time to prepare or to reflect.”

Does that make Jensen the lucky one? Jared's not sure. He's had time to say his goodbyes, to plan, and to make the most of the time he has left. But this...feeling his body get weaker and weaker, the pain, and the certainty of what it all means; it's a bitter pill to swallow.

Sometimes, Jared just gets so tired of it all.

“Jared, you need to-”

“I want to stay. Just for a little longer. Please.”

Jensen nods his head, and they sit in silence for a long time; watching people walk their dogs, go to their spinning classes, and drink their morning coffees, and just carry on with their everyday lives.

Jared watches a flock of tiny birds fly high overhead, and wonders where their journey is taking them.

Then Jensen moves closer to him and reaches out for Jared's hand. There's no hesitation when Jared takes it; Jensen's skin is cool to touch. Their fingers entwine into an impossible knot, and Jensen strokes his thumb across Jared's skin. It feels nice; like he belongs.

Jared smiles at him, and they both tilt their heads back and close their eyes, basking in the gentle warmth of the sun. Jared feels every muscle in his body relax, and he lets his mind and the world around him quieten and drift away on the breeze; until there's nothing but the two of them, holding hands and never wanting to let go.

The End